#I'm sorry but didn't it just come out...?
Note
Going into the restaurant when you and Carmy have only been dating for a few weeks. You weren't trying to visit him, you just like the pasta. He spots you and asks why you didn't tell him you were coming.
"I don't want to bother you at work"
"Next time, bother me."
"next time bother me" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
i would fall HARD. if we hadn't said i love you, i would've that night lol.
i can only imagine his confusion, seeing you and your friends. he hadn't really told anyone, not even richie or sugar or sydney, that he'd been seeing you. ever the secretive person, he nearly falls out when he does see you. when he hears your name on richie's sheet, telling your order.
"i'm sorry," you squeak, a little blushy and bashful when he comes out to see you. "i don't... i didn't mean to be stalker-y. it's my friends birthday, and the pasta is so good." you blink up at him. "didn't mean to bother you."
"you're not bothering me." carmen shakes his head. "never, but next time, bother me. make sure you get the best seat in the house."
he goes out of his way to have marcus put a candle in the cake, really does everything up. always peeking through the window to see your reaction to the food, blushing when your gaze meets his.
"cousin," carmen stops richie. "hey, uh, table nine. there's- don't give them a ticket. no ticket on them."
"why?" richie frowns. "they complain or somethin'? did you mess somethin' up-"
"-no, it's not- no." carmen runs a hand over his face, hoping he's hiding his blush. "that's, uh, that's- i've been seeing the girl on the end." richie nearly breaks his neck turning to look, eyes wide in shock.
"don't fuckin' make a big deal about it, alright?" carmen hisses. "but, i-i can't charge her, y'know? be jagoff of the year if i charged her at my own restaurant."
"yeah you would be." richie snorts. "i got you, cousin." he pats carmen's shoulder, shaking his head as he voids the check. "can't believe you didn't tell me. i knew, i fucking knew something was going on, ya know? natalie thought you finally got medicated or somethin'."
screaming. screaming. screaming.
i might have to do a full work on this, it gave me the butterflies.
#thebearer#bearblahs#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#richie jerimovich#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy fluff#carmen berzatto x you
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thinking about fellow soldier!reader coming back to ghost after having been mistaken for kia
gn!reader x simon "ghost" riley
-maybe he's back in your shared apartment, holding the last photo he took with you.
-it was taken the day of your birthday, with your arms around simon's waist and a gleeful smile permanently etched on your face.
-you were looking directly at the camera with your eyes crinkled at the corners. simon, however, was looking at you and only you with an expression only a lovestruck fool could manage.
-he had long since stopped crying about what he believed was your death. when price came to him with a somber expression and the news that you were on the wrong end of an explosion, the only thing he could do was cry or be angry.
-now, he felt nothing.
-you could imagine his surprise when he hears the front door open. did he forget to lock it? was someone breaking in? he didn't care enough to prepare himself for a potential attack.
-but, no, you walked in with an ungodly amount of bandaged wounds and a tired look on your face.
-you expected him to stand from his place on the sofa to meet you, but he didn't. he thought he was imagining things, again, so he said nothing.
-"simon," you said softly, not bothering to take off your shoes and throwing you things onto the ground next to you.
-still, he said nothing.
-"i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. price said he tried to contact you but that you never answered," you continued. nobody knew where you and ghost lived, and simon's grief took the form of self-isolation.
-he still didn't answer you at this point, and it was becoming unsettling.
-"simon, can you hear me?"
-"you're not real," was all he could muster. he didn't have the heart to tell "fake" you to go away or beg himself to wake up from his supposed dream. "i can't do this again. you're not real."
-you realized just how hard your false death had hit him.
-"i'm real. i promise. i was able to take cover last second and-"
-"no. you're dead with not even a body to recover because i wasn't there to protect you. god, i..." the words got stuck in his throat as he leaned forward on the sofa, holding his head in his hands and near trembling.
-you dropped to your knees in front of him like a follower worshipping their god. taking his hands, you held them tight as you could in a silent attempt at convincing him you were alive.
-there was a moment of silence between the two of you before he drew his hands away from yours. it made your heart hurt.
-"simon..." you were grasping at straws, now, trying to figure out how to convince him of what was true. maybe there was something in your luggage that might help.
-as soon as you turned your body to your bags by the front door, you were pulled right back in by a pair of strong arms.
-he was hugging you like the moment he let go, you'd disappear into thin air (and, in a way, he believed it to be a possibility). after being pulled from your shock, you immediately brought your own arms to reciprocate the embrace.
-"(y/n)," he said, trying to keep his voice stable. there was still a part of him that couldn't believe he had you with him. if he weren't so thankful, he'd be lecturing you about acting wreckless on missions and convincing you to quit your job so nothing like this happened again.
-but, for now, he was content like this.
#call of duty imagine#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#cod imagine#cod mw x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost imagine#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#cod angst#call of duty angst#simon riley angst#ghost angst#rara writes
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you want to? - matt sturniolo
summary: when you ask your classmate matt for a ride home after school, you find out hes a virgin, how could you not offer to change that?
contains: smut, semi-sub!matt, virgin!matt, swearing.
--------------------└── •✧• ──┘------------——-
the deafening bell rings throughout my math classroom, signalling the end of the day. i look down at my phone which reads 3:00pm, i instantly start to pack up my books more than ready to leave.
i watch the brunette boy to my left swing his bag over his shoulders, he doesn't say much but i'm pretty sure his names matt, i'm quite close with his brother nick but i've never got to know him personally.
i follow close behind him as he walks through the hallway.
we exit through the doors of the school, i decide to make my move now, needing a desperate ride home.
"uh- matt!" i call out walking up beside him, he looks over at me fixing the frame of his dark brown glasses.
"yeah?" he replies softly,
it shouldn't be wrong of me to ask for a ride, i've seen him briefly while i've been round at nicks house, and we got paired up for a group project in 9th grade where i spoke to him for a week.
"this is like- really random but do you mind giving me a ride home, i think my house is just down the street to yours and my car broke down this morning." i ramble
"oh- yeah, okay- thats fine." he says nervously "thank you so much" i let out a sigh of relief.
matt and i walk in silence to his car, his lips are red from where hes been biting them.
he opens the door for me, i jump in the passenger seat. the whole car is clean except for a camera battery and an empty mcdonald's cup.
he jumps in as well, "sorry if this is an inconvenience, i'll venmo you gas money and extra." i say.
"no- don't worry about it, it's fine." matt instantly replies.
i decide to start up a conversation, not wanting to sit in silence for the whole 20 minute ride.
"hows nick?" i ask, "hes okay, i think hes just weirded out about the whole audrey situation."
audrey is nick's best friend, who recently became hated at our school for sleeping with a whole friend group then lying to everyone and saying they made her do it.
"oh yeah!? she fucked that whole group of guys oh god." i exclaim, causing matt to tense up, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight.
"you okay? sorry- do you know audrey"
he shakes his head "i don't know her."
"oh you just went tense about the audrey fucking." i repeat, he laughs slightly, the tips of his ears go red.
"have you never had sex?" i ask, my head spinning round to look at him.
his cheeks go a deep red, he takes a hand off the wheel to rubs his eye under his glasses.
"i- yeah- no.. i dont know" he mutters, "you don't know if you've had sex?" i smile,
"i don't know- no" he says awkwardly with a grin.
"oh, thats fine!" i reply,
"you want to?" i continue, matt goes silent. i instantly regret my words, i didn't mean to make matt uncomfortable but it was just a genuine question.
"sorry." i instantly follow my words up, my tone less.. loud.
"yeah, i think i do" matt almost whispers as though he can't get any louder.
i nod my head understandingly , "you got anyone you want to loose it to, or not really?"
matt seems to grow a little more comfortable, his deathly grip on the wheel loosening
"i can't say" he laughs slightly "i mean i'm almost 18 and both my brothers won't stop yapping about their hook ups." he sighs
"do you want to.. with me?" i ask quietly, the words leaving my mouth before i can process
"but only if you want-" i instantly say after.
his head snaps round to look at me, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly. "you- what" he smiles slightly, his eyebrows twisting as his cheeks flush
i stay silent, maintaining eye contact for a couple seconds.
"yeah, okay thank you" his says breathlessly, looking back to the road
"you can uh- come back to my house, nick and chris are at hockey and my parents are away for 2 weeks." matt says, trying to sound confident.
i nod, "yeah okay!"
-
3:42pm
matt pulls into his driveway, we've been having small talk for the past 5 minutes the rest of the way.
i open the door to his car, stepping out onto the concrete. i follow matt inside his house, i'm more than used to being in his house, execpt its usually with nick to hang out, not with his triplet brother to hook up.
i take his hand, he guides us upstairs into his bedroom. i lock the wooden door behind us.
"so uh, where do we start?" matt laughs nervously, reaching a hand up and scratching the side of his head.
i get on my tip-toes, grabbing his jaw and pulling him into a kiss. he hesitates for a second before kissing me back.
it quickly turns into a makeout, i push him back onto the bed before straddling him.
i grind against the fabric of his jeans, matt lets out a pathetic whimper against my lips clearly sensitive.
i pull away for a second to pull my shirt up over my head, revealing the pink lace of my bra. matt shamelessly stares at my tits, his top teeth sinking into his bottom lip.
after a solid 25 seconds of staring he pulls his navy blue crewneck off over his head, his middle part flopping on his forehead.
his breathing picks up as i unclasp my bra, letting it fall down onto his chest. i instantly feel a bulge feel underneath me, his face growing red.
i fix his glasses on his face lingering my fingers on his skin for longer than needed, "oh my god" i hear him whisper under his breath, i shift off his lap onto the floor, matt sits on the edge of the bed.
i fidget with the buckle of his belt, pulling it through the loops of his jeans before unbuttoning the button of his jeans and shimmying the fabric down his thighs.
i don't waste time to yank down his boxers, his erection springs out. matt's tip is slightly more red than his lips, now begging to be touched.
"you ready sweetheart?" i ask him, dragging my nails up and down his thighs.
"yeah- yes please." he nods, i wrap my hand around his length and pumping slowly, i look up at him and his head falls back "fuck.." he groans as i wrap my lips around his tip.
i circle my tongue just around his tip teasingly but it seems to be enough for matt already.
i slowly take more of him in my mouth, taking most of his dick down my throat.
"oh my god oh my god-" matt whimpers as i bob my head up and down,
my pace quickens everytime matt makes noise, only driving me to take more of him. i feel him twitch, meaning he's close already.
after matt bucks his hips up i pull off of him, edging him. "please" matt starts but i cut him off "don't want you to cum yet, don't wanna overstimulate you okay?"
he nods, i get up off the floor to straddle the top of his thighs again, his dick resting against my lower stomach.
"tell me what you want matt." i say, fixing his hair which rests against the glass of his glasses. "please?" matt whispers.
"please what." i tease, kneeling on either side of his legs and pulling down my shorts and panties in one tug. "ride me.." he says shyly. i smile before hovering myself above his tip, slowly sinking down onto his tip.
"oh my god" he groans, i let out a soft groan as i sink further down his length, i grab his wrists and place his ringed hands on my waist instead of him balling up the sheet.
"feels so good" he mumbles shakily, i start to bounce slowly up and down on his dick.
i let out strings of moans as his grip tightens on my waist "please please-" he whines, i start to pick up my pace.
"matt- you wanna try being on top?" i ask quickly, he hesitates before nodding his head eagerly.
he flips us over impressively easily, "grab my ankles" i tell him which he does, his two large hands grabbing my ankles and pushing them down by my ears, i nod.
he starts to thrust into me, matt's middle part flops on his head, his glasses shifting.
"fuck- 'm so close" he groans "you got it matt" i breathe out
matt pulls out, instantly releasing on my stomach as his glasses fall off, landing on my chest.
he flops down next to me on the bed panting, his arms laying across his forehead.
i scoot closer to matt's side, "you okay?" i ask, he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him, a small smile forming on his face.
"you don't understand how long i've wanted that with you." he laughs slightly, "with me?" i reply, my eyes widening slightly
"yeah- i don't know." he sits up, rubbing his eyes. i sit up next to him, grabbing his glasses off my chest and holding them up
i slide the glasses onto his face, his cheeks still flushed
"we should do this again sometime" he suggests awkwardly,
"good idea matt" i smile, pressing a quick kiss to his red lips.
---------------------------------
@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209
#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fluff#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo imagine
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End of the World IV
Katie McCabe x Child!Reader
Caitlin Foord x Child!Reader
Summary: Christmas in Australia
Before Christmas, there was an argument.
Ma wanted to take you with her for Christmas but Mammy also wanted to take you.
There was a big argument, like how there's always an argument when Ma and Mammy are in the same room.
You end up with Mammy though because she was doing more 'child safe' things. That means you're in Australia with her and Caitlin.
Australia is hot at Christmas and you don't think you like that. Mammy had to buy you a whole new wardrobe because your summer clothes are stuck in boxes in the loft and Mammy couldn't get them out in time because Ma decided too late to let you go with her.
You're on a beach right now, digging your toe into the sand in unease as Mammy tries to get you to step foot in the sea.
You shake your head. "No."
"Kiddo," She says," Come on. It's just the ocean. It won't hurt you."
You keep shaking your head. "Ma said that Australia's oceans have sharks that will eat me."
Katie sighs deeply, cursing Ruesha in her mind before Caitlin steps forward.
"I can look after her," She says," At least until you're done swimming."
"Are you sure?" Katie checks. She knows that Caitlin is still a little wary around you and she doesn't want to make either of you feel awkward.
"It's fine," Caitlin insists," We'll have fun in the sand. It'll be good."
You're still holding your bucket and spade as Caitlin leads you away from Mammy. You sniffle a little bit as Mammy paddles out into the sea leaving you with Caitlin alone.
She sets you up next to the towels and the big basket of stuff she and Mammy brought with. You stare at her. She stares back.
"So," Caitlin says," Do you want to make a sandcastle?"
You sniffle.
Caitlin's eyes go wide.
"Wait! No, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you sad! We don't need to make sandcastles!"
You burst into tears and Caitlin grows even more panicked.
"Is it the sand? We can go and sit on the steps!"
"Mammy!" You whine, reaching out towards Katie has disappeared into the sea," Mammy's gone!"
Caitlin follows your gaze. "Oh, she's not gone. She's just out swimming."
"Mammy!" You cry again, tears spilling down your cheeks," The sharks are gonna get her!"
"They won't," Caitlin tries to assure you.
"They will!" You insist," Ma said the sharks in Australia are always in the sea."
Cautiously, Caitlin reaches out for you. She gently manoeuvres you into her lap and you let her. "See that lifeguard there?" She points at a man in a big chair," And that building over there? They make sure that sharks aren't in the water."
"Really?"
"Yep," Caitlin says," If any sharks swim in then they tell everyone so no one goes in the water."
You wipe your nose on the towel that's been wrapped around you. "Promise?"
"I promise, kiddo. Katie'll be very safe. Do you want to build a sandcastle now?"
You shake your head, fisting the strap of Caitlin's swimsuit. "No thank you. Stay like this please."
Caitlin tries not to let her shock show as she nods. "Sure, yeah, we can stay like this."
Katie isn't quite sure what to say when she gets out of the water to see Caitlin trying to sunbathe with a limp and sleeping you lying on her chest.
"Hey," Katie says, with a little smile," What's all this then?"
"She was convinced the sharks were going to eat you," Caitlin replies with an eye roll, gently tracing patterns against your back," But she's fine now."
"Well," Katie says," I think that's our cue to head back and have our own naps. She's dead to the world right now."
"What about lunch?"
Katie shrugs as she very carefully picks you up, adjusting you so your head is buried in her neck. "We can get a late lunch afterwards. The little miss needs an actual pillow to rest her head." She looks down at you with a wince. You're truly, deeply asleep. "And maybe a pull up too."
Caitlin and Katie end up asleep as well and Katie wakes up groggy to small hands shaking her shoulder.
Caitlin's arm is thrown over her shoulder as she blinks awake.
"Kiddo?" She asks," What's wrong?"
"I'm hungry, Mammy," You say," Can we have lunch now?"
"Yeah, we can get lunch. Let me just get Caitlin up."
#woso x reader#katie mccabe x reader#katie mccabe#caitlin foord x reader#caitlin foord#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
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First kiss, what bliss... maybe...
Summary: Neither you nor your partner have had your first kiss yet. What kind of shenanigans would that information bring?
Characters: Cater, Jamil, Vil × GN!Reader (separate)
Warnings: misunderstandings
By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.
-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Facing Cater after what happened felt like the hardest challenge you've ever gone through
Curse Magicam and curse couple tags and couple selfies, curse all of it!
The memory was fresh in your mind, making you cringe at the situation
You just wanted to take a cute selfie with your boyfriend, like any normal person
And you thought it would be funny and cute to kiss him on the cheek mid selfie
But he happened to have the same idea...
And your lips unceremoniously clashed over each other
As if the situation wasn't very embarassing already, Cater's reaction made it worse
He awkwardly laughed while scratching the back of his head, then left the room in a hurry
Horrible feedback for your first kiss, really
Were you that bad at kissing? But you didn't even have time to be bad, it was barely anything but his lips landing on yours
Sevens, even thinking about it made you feel like your face was on fire
You cursed all teen rom coms for lying to your poor teenage heart as you buried yourself under your blankets
But soon enough your phone started buzzing like crazy
One, twice, thrice
Twenty times
You picked it up to check what was going on, when you saw none other than your boyfriend spamming you with apology texts
"i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry"
His apologies only made you more confused
"wait why"
You could tell he was trying to pick between keysmashing his way to forgiveness and trying to find a coherent response as the loading chat bubble appeared and disappeared on your screen for a few minutes
In the end all he sent back was one text
"nvm i'm coming back to ur dorm stay there"
You undug yourself out of your fluffy pity party and, before you could process properly the situation you were in, Cater knocked at your door
You combed your fingers through your hair before taking a deep breath and opening the door
Just to see a Cater just as frazzled as you were
"I'm so sorry I didn't know what to do I wanted to be cute-"
"I was so stupid, I don't know what came over me, I panicked and-"
You talked over each other, then stopped and sunk into a bit of an awkward silence
Not even your conflict solving skills were on your side today
"Uhm, Let's just... I mean, can I come in?"
"I will let you in... before Riddle hears you used 'can' instead of 'may'."
Cater's eyes widened before he snorted, and a small smile blosommed on his lips
"Alright, don't mind me~"
His sing songy delivery came out slightly tense as he hesitated before stepping into your room and making a bee line to your bed
Another awkward, albeit shorter, silence took over the room before you sighed
"Cater, I'm sorry. I wanted to be cute and kiss you on the cheek, I'm sorry if I overstepped something or-"
"Oh, no no no! That's not it at all!"
Cater's cheeks grew redder than you've ever seen them
"You have nothing to apologise for! It's just..."
His eyes went from your face to the floor, then to the lamp on your nightstand
"It took my by surprise, and I was not prepared at all, and I reacted very poorly... It was so much different than what I thought our first kiss to be."
He reached out to his hair and started playing with a strand, something you noticed he did when he needed something to do with his hands
You took a seat next to him on the bed and sighed
"To be honest... I have no idea how I wanted our... first kiss... to be like... Since that was my first and all."
Cater's eyes widened and he snorted
"Yours too?"
Hearing his words, you turned to face him, and saw an expression hard to read
"Wait, what? Really?"
Cater nodded
You snorted, then burst into laugher
He had no idea why, but Cater also joined in with his own confused giggles
"So both our first kisses kinda sucked. Man...!"
Cater lied on your bed, obviously more relaxed than before
"...Well, at least I know I'm not the only victim of the lies about the romcom first kiss."
"You know what they say about misery loving company!"
You lied next to Cater, thinking about how ridiculous everything was
And you were glad to see Cater back to his more relaxed self
"So... No hard feelings, then?"
His question made you giggle
"None. Only if you promise me a proper redo, though."
Cater turned on his side, prompting his head on his arm
"Totally! Not right now, though. My heart had enough of a workout today."
"Same..."
You spent the rest of the day watching cute videos on his Magicam feed
The atmosphere turned back to normal once again, and you almost forgot about the incident
Until a few weeks later, when Cater was finally ready for the proper redo
『••✎••』
You were leaving Sam's and checking items off of a list, making mental notes to yourself
Ingredients for chakli and shankarpali? Check. Enough paper to make origami jasmines until your hands hurt? Check.
The permission slip from Kalim that allowed you and Jamil to stay out of the dorm for the night? Check. The contracts from Azul binding your friends to the responsibility of keeping Kalim in check while you and Jamil are away? Check
Were your preparations a little extreme? Maybe, but you had a very important goal in mind
Several weeks prior, you were bestowed with a very valuable information: Jamil never had his first kiss
Neither did you, but you wanted to do something about it
After a lot of shifts at the Mostro Lounge, you finally were able to put together the perfect date
A picnic under the stars in the garden of Ramshackle dorm, where you could create the perfect opportunity to give your boyfriend the first kiss he deserves!
You skipped on your way to your dorm from excitement and prepared everything for the special night
But whatever deities ruled over Twisted Wonderland decided that it would be funny to cause an unpredictable downpour on the very night you were planning to be out
All Jamil could do to help your disappointed self was to help you gather your things and resume the "picnic" in your dorm room
Despite him trying to comfort you, you still had a hard time recovering, as the night you were so emotionally invested in was ruined
Jamil sighed as it sunk in that the issue was deeper than he thought, and he made you sit down with him
"This wasn't just a normal date, was it? Talk to me, Reader."
You sighed and grabbed Jamil's hand
"I'm just... really disappointed, I guess. I worked really hard to make this date special! And this stupid rain ruined the night. I'm sorry..."
Jamil raised an eyebrow
"Special? Were you preparing something for a special occasion?"
You hated how perceptive he was sometimes
You looked away, and your reaction to his question was all the confirmation Jamil needed
He still waited for you to tell him, regardless of how embarassed you grew with every second of silence
So eventually you caved after what felt like a whole hour of silence
"...You know how you told me you haven't had your... your first kiss?"
Jamil listened to your explanation with a growing blush on his cheeks
"I wanted to make it memorable! I haven't had my first kiss either so I thought it would be great to make it great for the both of us! But then it started raining, and it made the food all soggy, and I just wasted three weeks of my life for a stupid contract with Azul and my friends to make sure Kalim doesn't accidentally start an international conflict while I'm trying to smooch you!"
Your little rant left Jamil speechless
You were expecting some sort of snort or sarcastic remark, but you heard... nothing
So you turned your face to look at Jamil
And he was deep in thought, eyes not even looking at you
His mouth opened and closed a few times
Jamil's face never settled on an expression for too long, his conflicted feelings coming to the surface
The silence was making your nervous, but it was obvious Jamil was weighting his words very carefully
"Reader, I don't need a special setting for you to show you care about me."
"I know you don't need it, but you deserve it! You work so hard all the time and you never get the praise you deserve, I wanted to spoil you as much as I could and give you an unforgettable memory..."
Jamil was rendered completely speechless
And, when your words finally sunk in, his face started burning like a campfire, and he pulled his hood over his head
"You... You are impossible..."
Your hand was still holding his, and you gave it a squeeze in reassurance
The silence that befell on you was just a bit awkward, but you gave Jamil time to recover emotionally
A few minutes passed when he pulled the hood off and asked you to make a pillow fort with him in your room
"I can't let your efforts go to waste, not after... after everything you've said."
Despite your disappointment, you'd never say no to a night with your boyfriend
So you took the chairs, Jamil took the blankets and pillows, and you set up a pretty nice fort
It wasn't the starry sky you imagined yourself sitting under, but maybe Jamil was right
You didn't need anything fancy to have a special moment
And the way he was clinging to you while you were running your fingers through his hair was even more special to you than anything
You chuckled to yourself at the visage of Jamil Viper, the most tense and closed off teen you know, completely making himself comfortable in your embrace as if your body was made to hold him and cherish him
He raised his head, his attention caught by your chuckle
Maybe it was the way Jamil looked more relaxed than usual or the way that he was simply looking at you, expecting nothing but to satiate a small curiosity
But Jamil looked really beautiful to you in that moment
And kissable...
"This is kind of embarassing... I really wanna kiss you right now..."
Jamil smirked at you
"I thought you needed a meteor shower and a full course meal to get a kiss."
"...Never mind, you ruined it."
You were sure he wouldn't let it die until you actually kissed
A problem you could solve really easily
You started plotting another plan; this one was simpler, and it involved just you making him look at you and leaning in a little closer...
『••✎••』
"Did you have any voice acting roles animated movies and stuff?"
Vil contemplated your question for a few seconds while he applied some skin cleanser on his face
"A few, yes. I prefer when people experience my presence fully when I act, but I don't mind bringing a different type of character to life if I like the project."
You were in Vil's room, using your priviledge of being the partner of a Housewarden to spend the night with your boyfriend without the need of a formal pass
As fair as Vil was, he didn't mind your daring actions as they amused him
To pass the time while Vil prepared himself to go to bed, you decided to play 20 questions
"Do you prefer open ended media or do you like to know what comes out of the fate of the characters?"
Vil was good at asking questions, as they really made you fall deep in thought
"Hmm... I think both are pretty great. It depends on the setting the most. An open ending works well with a thriller movie, but I like a proper ending for a romcom."
Your boyfriend hummed at your response
You watched Vil as he reached for his serum, and you caught a glimpse of a smile on his face
"Smart answer. That's the beauty of media, it allows you to tell different kinds of stories in different ways."
Vil opened the serum bottle and let a few droplets fall on his face
"Have you had your first kiss for a role or in real life?"
"Neither."
"Wait. Really?"
Vil snickered at your reaction as he met your eyes through his mirror
"What, is it really that shocking that I haven't had my first kiss yet?"
He was something else: usually people would be embarassed at the prospect of having to admit they haven't had their first kiss at all
"Kind of? I assumed that... well, I know that people who've been acting for as long as you have been exposed to a lot of things before the proper time."
"I can't deny that. I could say that I had a lot of people making sure I never did anything too... extreme."
Vil grabbed his moisturizer, and you had no idea how to feel about losing count of the products he has used so far
While he applied the product, Vil smiled to himself mischievously
"What about you? Have you had your first kiss?"
Your cheeks warmed up in embarassment
"No..."
Your reply was followed by an awkward laugh, and it drew a chuckle out of Vil
For the first time in a while, Vil got up from his chair and sat on his bed next to you, leaning closer
His closeness to you and your confession made your cheeks grow hot
The floral scent of his freshly applied products and the teasing glint in his eyes made you dizzy
"Oh? Is that so?"
Your confusion suddenly vanished as you realised what Vil was about to do
Were you about to kiss?! Right now?!
Vil leaned in very close to your face while you panicked and tried to figure out what to do
He kept a distance of barely two centimeters for a few seconds
Then he kissed your nose, making you confused
"You've been able to go on this long without your first kiss, you'll be fine waiting a little longer..."
You were shocked as Vil backed away with a smile on his face and cheeks dusted pink
It finally dawned on you: he was only teasing you
He only laughed when you gave him a swat to his thigh, wordlessly accepting your offense as warranted
The audacity of this guy...
"You really though I'd allow our first kiss to be anything less than spectacular? My line of work has been advertising a life changing moment, and I feel it's my duty to... live up to the hype."
Your indignation, as lighthearted as it was, refused to allow your pride to be wounded by such teasing
You raised yourself from your spot and, with a courage fueled only by impulsivity, you put your hand at the back of Vil's neck
You pulled Vil close to your face, action that earned you a gasp from your beloved
Almost all courage left you but you still continued with your plan: you waited a few seconds before pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth
"Your... line of work also has teasers and trailers, right? Consider this one of them."
Vil was more than shocked; to your surprise, he seemed awestruck by your actions
A lovely pink took over his face as a proud smile bloomed on his features
"Maybe I will."
『••✎••』
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#cater diamond#cater diamond x reader#jamil viper#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#i wanted to write 2 more characters with this prompt#but this is already long enough that i think my phone is about to burst into tears
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Somewhere only we know
~ Azriel X Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel comes to visit you for the first time in a while.
Warnings: Angsty goodness
He could hear it now; your call beckoning him closer.
The dulcet tones of your laughter echoing amongst the evening birdsong as Azriel approached.
It was a path the shadowsinger had walked a hundred times before. The bowing oak trees and the familiar tune of the flowing beck all working to guide Azriel towards his final destination.
Towards you.
Yet even the forest wasn't safe from the golden hands of time. The gnarled roots and overgrown canopy a glaring sign that it had been far too long since Azriel had last come to see you.
Where he was once able to run freely alongside you, Azriel now found himself uncomfortably squeezing through the wild underbrush. Wings tightly curling into his back out of fear of catching them on the thicket of brambles which now lined the once clear path.
Perhaps a year was too long to wait.
Perhaps Azriel should have visited you sooner.
Your voice continued to grow louder with each step taken, the wind beginning to carry the recognizable scent of your sweet perfume.
Azriel inhaled deeply, allowing the delicate aroma of honeysuckle and jasmine to wash away his worries. A calming peace, that only ever makes itself known when in the presence of your company, began to warmly settle in his chest.
"Hello my love"
Azriel called softly into the air, the gentle twinkling of a wind chime greeting him in response as the evening sun broke through the canopy above to lay a welcoming kiss onto his cheek.
"I've missed you," the shadowsinger continued, moving towards the fallen trunk of a tree in order to take a seat, "I'm sorry I've been gone so long."
Another melodic chime answered, assuring Azriel that his absence needed no excuse.
"But I couldn't miss spending my birthday with you, I don't think you would have let me"
The wind laughed in reply, a soothing breeze coming to caress his smiling cheek as Azriel lifted a shaky hand to meet the ghost of your own.
Eyes beginning to water at your phantom touch, the male cleared his throat before reaching into the pocket of his leathers. "I've brought you a letter," Azriel started to explain, pulling out the carefully folded piece of paper, "of all the things you've missed since I was last here. I wrote it all down just so I didn't forget to tell you anything."
The orange sun glowed a little brighter, so as to provide Azriel with enough light to read his letter. The forest falling into a peaceful silence in order to ensure that you heard every word the shadowsinger had to say.
"Feyre is pregnant again, I think Rhys would kill me if I didn't tell you that first," Azriel grinned at the smile of excitement he could picture you wearing at the news, taking the time to burn the image into his mind before continuing, "Nyx is convinced it's a girl, and if it is her wants her to be named after you of course. He always talks about his favourite auntie."
Azriel allows himself to pause, needing a moment to calm his wavering breath before he could say any more, the harsh lines of a frown beginning to cross his face.
"Cas says hello. He'd come here if he could, you know that. But I don't think I'm quite ready to share this place with anyone else yet. He's fine, Nesta too. They're kept busy by little Sofia most of the time, ever since she learnt how to fly she's been wreaking havoc all over Velaris."
A robin flittered down from the trees, perching by where Azriel was sat, its small head tilted in silent understanding. Appreciating the company, a slight smile flickered across Azriel's lips as he turned his watery eyes back to the letter grasped between his trembling hands.
"Elain and Lucien are finally back from their trip around Prythian. They went to Spring - to that meadow I took you to for our anniversary. She . . . she brought me back some flowers, said they reminded her of you."
Azriel's tears finally began to fall as he carefully folded the letter once more, tucking it away into the safety of his leathers, placing it into the pocket right above his heart.
"And me . . ." Azriel started, voice cracking as he tried to recall what he had done since he was last here, his surroundings taking him back to a time when you had once been sat here with him, "Well I've not really done anything at all."
The male's hands move to clasp onto the two rings resting on a chain around his neck, thumb working to brush the cool metal in the hope of receiving some comfort, "Some days it feels like time has scarcely moved at all . . . On those days I like to close my eyes and picture you - us - here in the forest. Running through the trees like we used to do, hiding from our responsibilities for as long as we could."
Azriel deeply exhaled as he watched the robin fly away, tears still falling as he continued to speak, "And then I open my eyes . . . and remember you're gone" Azriel's words are interrupted by a harrowing sob falling from his lips, "I don't know how much longer I can do this. I'm getting old my love, sometimes I worry that one day I'll come back here and you won't recognize me anymore. That our love will fall victim to the hands of time just as the forest has."
The chimes twinkle once more, a gentle reminder that you are never truly gone, the ever-changing wind whispering promises that your love was one to last for eternity.
"I know" Azriel sadly smiles, letting go of the rings in order to brush away his tears, the thought of your heartbroken expression enough to dry his eyes, "I just miss you, that's all. Not a day goes by where I don't think of you."
The trees lightly rustle in response.
Azriel stayed to talk to you long into the night. The conversation never fading, nor growing dull, even when the moon had said its goodbyes and the sun had risen once more.
If time was all Azriel could offer you these days, then his time was what you would receive. For each hour spent in your special spot, was another hour of keeping your memory alive.
Another hour Azriel got to spend with you.
When the time came for Azriel to reluctantly leave the forest, his responsibilities too pressing to ignore for much longer, the shadowsinger whispered a promise into the wind that he would return once more. Swearing that you would not have to wait so long to see him again.
With each step he took, the scent of rosemary and sweet pea grew stronger, your calming aroma fading as Azriel walked further and further away.
And as Azriel turned to look at you once more, he could have sworn he heard you calling after him. Words unintelligible as your voice became lost amongst the birdsong.
But he could feel it, the assurance that he wasn't alone.
The piece of you that had been trapped here, now safely tucked within the confines of his heart.
So carry you home he would.
#acotar#fanfic#acotar imagine#sarah j maas#a court of thorns and roses#azriel x reader#azriel oneshot#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel imagine#azriel angst
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Even after all this time and awareness, it feels like asexuality is still not treated like a proper sexuality. Recently had a girl tell me that she was at a place where she ‘felt so asexual’ because all the other girls were so beautiful and guys were ignoring her because of it. She didn’t know I was asexual and I didn’t take offence (I know she didn't meant it in a malicious way) but it does feel uncomfortable that people are using ‘asexual’ in lieu of ‘unattractive' or 'lacking sexual appeal.' It's really giving 90's/early 2000's slang of using 'gay' to mean 'lame.' Even shows like Brooklyn 99 which took immense pride in being progressive with their comedy, had an episode where one of the characters says "Oh, and I'm sorry if we implied you're both asexual nerds who can only be friends with service animals."
I have mentioned this before also, when I talked about how I feel like people are more comfortable erasing the identities of canonical aro/ace characters in media but act like it's unacceptable with other sexualities... but it does feel like asexuality (and aromanticism tbh) are still not considered 'real' sexualities. In the case of shipping fictional characters, I understand there is nuance to that issue and so don't want to get into it, but it does kinda add to my point.
Why is it that people treat asexuality like it's not a sexuality? Why is it that when I come out to people I'm met with insistence that I'm wrong about my sexuality, that I'm 'self diagnosing' (it's not a medical condition), that I'm probably 'just inexperienced' or haven't 'met the right person' or have a hormone issue? Why can't people just accept that it's a sexuality like any other??
#asexual#ace stuff#aroace tag#asexuality#ace#don't mind me just needed to vent#just tagging asexuality because it was that 'felt so asexual' comment that made me feel this#but I think it does extend to aromanticism as well#but who knows at least for me I can no longer tell where the ace ends and the aro begins
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Darkness prevails
᯽ Author: bvidzsoo
᯽ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader
᯽ Warning: suggestive, cursing, violence (lots of it), maiming/marking, extreme possessiveness, manhandling, blood, beheading, death, dubious consent, morally grey subjects (you'll see what I mean, but I promise nothing like that actually happens), let me know if I forgot something cries
᯽ Word count: 25.6k
᯽ Genre: Fantasy, Royal, Dark Romance, Gore
᯽ Summary: King Jeong Yunho, first of his name, was a ruler everybody feared and nobody dared mess with. Anyone who didn't oblige to his laws, suffered the consequences. Perhaps stealing an apple seemed like a misstep that many would've overlooked, but not Jeong Yunho. Go against the laws: get punished, branded, humiliated, forever outcasted by society, and the King himself. Unfortunately, you were way too familiar with the King's tyranny, having been the subject of his torture more than once. But what happens, when once and for all, Prince San, his brother, finally decides to get rid of the cruel monarch? Will you succeed with your mission? Will you kill King Jeong Yunho? Or will he wrap you up even deeper in his sick web of lies and threats.
᯽ A/N: My wrists are about to fall off and my eyes are dry despite the eye drops I'm using, but here it is my lovelies, the first part of the Beyond the Obscure series! Guys...it's dark, I'm sorry, so yeah, take the warnings seriously, I promise I haven't written them very in detail (imo) but they are there. I think this is my darkest work so far (even worse than San's part in my pirate series) and y'all have no idea what I have planned for Seonghwa and Yeosang's part (clawing at the wall because that one will be even worse NAUR). I'd like to point out a few things before you start reading:
∞ Yunho is continuously mentioned as the King in the story or Your Grace
∞ perhaps keeping in mind the interaction between Mingi and the redhead will come in handy for future purposes *wink wonk*
∞ I hope I did a good job with this story, and I'm sorry if it sucks, I really tried to tackle this beast of a piece...and sorry for any mistakes, I always proofread but some just slip past me *sighs*
Enjoy the story and let me know what you thought of it, I'm always so grateful to all the feedback I get!! Taglist is open, so just comment on the post if you're interested in the future parts (check out the series' masterlist too to understand how the series works, thank you!) (divider)
᯽ Taglist: @seonghwaddict @thunderous-wolf @simpforyunsangho @kitten4sannie
─═☆Series M.list☆═─
At such an ungodly hour no lady was supposed to be roaming the streets alone, unguarded, exposed to the horrors of the slums. But some ladies had no other choice but to do so if they wanted to survive, to see tomorrow’s sunrise. Not that there was anything to anticipate or love in the Kingdom of the Fallen, ruled by a ruthless and malicious King, who slayed his people left and right whenever he pleased to do so. And perhaps that’s what ebbed me on to keep on walking, made me straighten my back to the point my muscles were straining as I made sure to become one with the shadows as I passed by the long fallen asleep households, headed towards the outskirts of our well-guarded burgh of Aurora. Don’t let it fool you, despite its name, there was nothing beautiful nor welcoming to this place, only terror, fear, and darkness. Our King made sure of that.
I tried to ignore the trembling of my fingers, but it became harder and harder to do so the closer I got to the well-concealed mansion. Large trees loomed over the gravel pathway that led to its enormous marble stairs, not one light was on inside. One would think the mansion was abandoned, but as soon as you stepped foot inside, its well-maintained state gave away the truth. Perspiration had started gathering on my brows, and I realized that underneath my pricey leather glove the skin of my right hand had started itching, begging to be scratched, but I knew doing so would cause my freshly healed wound to open up again. That wound was something I would have to live with forever, maimed, tainted for life. Marked for a wrong doing that cost the life of my little brother. It was hard not to blame or hate yourself when your sickly brother died in his sleep after you failed showing up for three days, begging and screaming to be let out of the dungeons of the wretched Castle, but my pleas fell to deaf ears, unsurprisingly.
King Jeong Yunho didn’t care about his people, and he never would. Famish and crime were at its peak despite the harsh punishments and executions. Despite the King having ears and eyes everywhere, some people managed to get away, escape unscathed, and one of those people just so happened to be Choi San, the crown prince. He fled the night his brother killed King Choi, aware that he would be next to suffer the same faith as their beloved father if he stood in his older brother’s way. Nobody really knew where Prince San went, but upon seeing his most trusted servant and Royal Guard, Sir Jung Wooyoung, around town, it became obvious that Prince San and Sir Jung were still lurking around. And despite what it seemed like, despite King Jeong being awful and vicious, Prince Choi wasn’t like him. He loved his people, he mourned with his people, he laughed with his people, and he lived for his people. Many hated him for disappearing, thinking he had abandoned us and was letting his older brother do however he wished, but many failed to understand that Prince San was powerless if it came down to a war between the brothers. Prince San didn’t have enough men to fight back against King Jeong’s tyranny. And that’s when I was summoned. Barely a day ago, a black envelope with a crown stamp on it had been slipped in my pouch without me noticing. Having opened it, I was rather surprised to find myself being summoned to the abandoned mansion, which belonged to the Royal family, on the outskirts of the burgh.
And when a royalty summoned you, you showed up without asking questions or making them wait too long. The roads were drenched in darkness, mist surrounding the narrow cobblestone streets, and smog escaped my mouth as little puffs left through my lips, heart beating even faster now that I stood in front of the dark mansion. I never fully showed my face in public, but being well past midnight without another soul out on the streets of Aurora, I offered myself the luxury of breathing in the chilly air of the night. The moon was in waxing crescent, and averting my eyes from it, I stared up at the massive mansion and steeled my nerves, pushing away all the swirling thoughts threatening to turn me back around just to run off in the night, far away from Aurora. But even if I ran, I had nowhere to go. And even if I ran, the King’s men would find me and bring me back. I never had a choice, nor the freedom to indulge in my dreams and wishes. So, I took a deep breath, fixed the sheer scarf around the lower half of my face, and ascended the marble stairs with chills running down my spine due to the biting cold. It felt like it had seeped through my clothes, nagging at my skin, injected straight into my bones. But if I dwelled more on this feeling, I knew it was mostly the fear spreading through my blood system that made me react so strongly. And there was no place for fear tonight.
When I reached my hand out to push the front door of the mansion open, I found it already slightly ajar, beckoning me inside. My heartbeat was loud in my ears as I cautiously ventured inside, closing the heavy door behind myself, needing a second to take in the majesty of the interior of the mansion. The floor and walls alike were covered in white marble, glinting under the moonlight as the large windows had no curtains in the large entrance hall. A sturdy round table sat in the middle of the chamber, a large vase filled to the brim with flowers of all kinds sat on top of the table, in the center of it. There was a sweet scent wafting through the air, and as I ventured further inside, the cold chill present in the entrance hall slowly turned into blush inducing warmth, making me shiver as I finally started feeling my frozen limbs.
I was wandering around mindlessly, having no idea where I was supposed to go as nobody seemed to be waiting for me, my eyes straying to the walls, admiring all the expensive paintings. They were brought from lands far from ours, from a land where life was easier and happier. The Kingdom of Light, much like its name, was ruled by a Queen that loved her nation and thrived to unite the two Kingdoms. However, as long as King Jeong was our monarch, that would never happen. Faint whispers caught my attention as I came towards the end of the hall, a large door separating me from the next room. A huge painting was hung up on the wall to the left of the black door, and my jaw clenched as my eyes fixated on the family portrait, more specifically, on King Jeong Yunho. Despite him looking a lot younger in the photo, the evil glint was still present in his sharp stare, and suddenly the skin of my right hand itched again, prompting me to mindlessly try and scrape at it through the leather glove. But the whispers coming to a sudden halt from inside the room, and the faint yellow glow coming to life through the little gap under the door ripped my attention away from the young King and made me tense up as footsteps neared the door. And then, there was a click and the door was pulled open, an emotionless man, with asymmetrical eyes, stood in front of me, taking me in just as closely as I took him in.
“Sir Jung Wooyoung.” I bowed my head, keeping my eyes on the marble floor until the man made a sound of approval.
“You have arrived,” He said, voice sharp and impassive, “Come inside.”
The door was further pulled open and as Jung Wooyoung stepped aside, I stepped forward, hands clenching into fists as I tried to fight the desperate need to turn around and just run. Far away from here, from the crown prince and his loyal guard, far from Aurora. But the King would always find me, and he’d bring me back, matter not if dead or alive, he’d bring me back.
As the door slammed heavily shut behind me, I fought the need to jump at the loud sound, and instead made eye contact with the crown prince. He sat in a large chair, straight across from me, at a round table. The table was massive and could fit at least twenty men if gathered around it, but now, it was just Prince Choi, Sir Jung, and myself in the room. The blackout curtains were drawn together, its color a blood red, shutting out the gentle moonlight, masking whatever would go down in this room from the celestial. Nobody had to know what would conspire in this room soon.
“Your Highness,” I bowed forward, keeping my eyes on the carpeted floor as a low hum traveled through the otherwise quiet room, “you have called for me.”
“I have, yes.” Prince San’s voice was low, and quiet, his sharp eyes narrowed as I straightened back up. We made eye contact as there was movement behind me, Sir Jung walked past me and came to a stop behind Prince San, placing a hand on the chair’s back, grip tightening instantly, “Do you have any idea why?”
“I do not have the power to assume anything.” I answered, eyes quickly seizing the room I was in. It wasn’t awfully big, like the rest of the mansion, and it was a lot less warm in here. Bookshelves aligned the tall walls behind the prince and his guard, and a comfortable sofa was pushed up against the left wall, drenched in shadows as the candlelight didn’t reach there.
“You may speak freely with me, Miss Hong, I am not my brother.” Prince San said, teeth gritting at the mention of King Jeong, “And I do not wish to be ever like that, which is why I have called you here.”
“Don’t you deem it dangerous, Your Highness, calling me here?” I quirked an eyebrow and walked further inside, approaching the table, “King Jeong knows you are still residing in Aurora, and now you’ve given your location away to a mere civilian.”
“Are you threating the crown prince right now?” Jung Wooyoung’s voice was rough and words biting as he leashed out, vein close to popping on his forehead, eyes ablaze. He looked menacing, especially with the long sword sheathed at his hip, handle hidden by the red wool jacket decorated with golden accents falling over it.
“Wooyoung,” It was strange how soft the prince’s voice became, eyes finding the guard’s, “she’s not the enemy. You don’t have to be so on edge.”
“How do you know?” Sir Jung hissed back, eyes still on me, glaring me down. I gulped, but didn’t look away. I didn’t want them to think I was scared, even if I was.
“Miss Hong,” The prince’s attention was back on me, expression losing its coldness for a second, “May I ask you show us your hand?”
My jaw clenched as I remained silent, heart thumping fast. I wanted to tell him no, that he had no right asking such thing of me, but I couldn’t deny the crown prince’s request. And despite detesting what I had to do, with shaky fingers, I still ripped the leather glove off my hand, breathing hard as I threw the piece of fabric on the table, letting my arms fall limply next to my body. Nobody said anything nor moved for a few seconds, Sir Jung’s gaze hurriedly falling onto my exposed right hand. The room was poorly lit, yet it wasn’t hard to miss the discoloration on the top of my right hand, the skin raw and burgundy despite the long-healed wound. It was just a scar now, yet it remained fresh looking, forever a reminder of who I belonged to.
“You don’t have to trust me,” I found my voice, and perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear myself sounding so cold and harsh, “but you can trust one thing. I, in no universe, serve King Jeong Yunho. And I never will. If the scar isn’t proof enough, send me out to kill him, and I will do it with a smile on my face.”
I didn’t expect any reaction from the two males across from me, and so it surprised me when the two held matching smirks, sharing a quick look before Jung Wooyoung slowly approached me again. My eyes stayed on him, and I flinched as he gingerly grasped my right hand, raising it up. I couldn’t bear looking at the skin, so I looked at Prince San instead.
“I’m sorry for what my brother has done to you.” And his words were sincere, there was pain in Prince San’s eyes, and I knew he was sincere. I don’t know why, but despite Jung Wooyoung’s calloused hands, the way he traced my scar with the tip of his finger gingerly, made me relax a little. If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me the second I approached the front door of the mansion.
“You shouldn’t apologize for something that’s out of your control, Your Highness.” I muttered, looking at Wooyoung alarmed when he pressed his lips against my scar, the warm and plush skin lingering against mine for a second. Nobody has every touched my scar, let alone kissed it. When Sir Jung looked at me, he held the same guilt and pain in his eyes as Prince San. It was overwhelming, and so I ripped my hand out of Sir Jung’s gentle hold, and scurried to wear my glove again. I didn’t need their pity, what’s done is done.
“How many times has that devil seen you?” It was Sir Jung asking this time as he slowly stalked back towards Prince San, stopping next to his chair this time. I didn’t fail to notice the way the crown prince grabbed onto the back of his royal guard’s thigh, thick fingers digging into Sir Jung’s skin. They seemed used to the contact, both unphased, so I averted my gaze from it.
“Twice.” I answered, lowering the sheer black scarf from the lower half of my face, “I always wear my scarf in public.”
“And do you think he’d recognize you if he were to see you again?” Prince San asked, his hand slowly sneaking up towards Sir Jung’s ass. My eyebrows furrowed before I shook my head.
“No, he never got a good look at my face the second time, and I was branded three years ago.” I answered truthfully, “There’s not a world in which the King remembers the faces of those he torments.”
“You’re underestimating my brother,” Prince San’s lips pulled into a sneer, “he’s a sadistic man, Miss Hong, you’d be horrified to find out just how much he remembers and gets off to.”
I gulped, but remained silent as Sir Jung bit his lower lip when Prince San’s hand traveled even further up. There was movement to my left, but when I looked over to the sofa, I couldn’t see anything, so I focused on the males again.
“Are you willing to kill him?” Jung Wooyoung seemed to have gotten tired of going around and not getting to the point as he spat, eyes watching me closely. I didn’t hesitate with my answer.
“Yes.” I hissed, eyes turning steely as Sir Jung just smirked, leaning forward as he placed his hands on the sturdy table.
“Then I, Jung Wooyoung, Royal Guard of the Crown Prince Choi San, third of his name, task you with killing King Jeong Yunho, and ridding this Kingdom of his cruelty and horrors.” Sir Jung’s voice was laced with passion, eyes burning with an insatiable fire as Prince San rose from his seat, his strong physique making Jung Wooyoung look small for the first time.
“I promise you immunity and a respectable life once you’re done with your task. You won’t be suffering any consequences, and I will fulfill your biggest wish.” I chuckled, but it lacked humor as my eyes bore into the prince’s.
“I doubt you can bring back the dead, Your Highness.” Tense silence fell upon us, both looking like they understood what it meant losing someone dear. And if Prince San was being honest, then this would be my way out of Aurora, out of the Kingdom of the Fallen, “I shall proceed with the task, Your Highness, Sir Jung. Give me at least a month.”
“You can take even a year as long as you do your task.” Prince San said with a chuckle, looking like a stone had been lifted off his chest.
“Don’t fail us, Miss Hong.” Sir Jung didn’t let his guard down as easily as the prince, however, and the subtle look he sent my way was threatening. I understood. Failing meant death. But I wouldn’t let that happen.
“I won’t.” My voice was strong and I bowed, out of respect and a way of letting them know that I would be leaving now, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.
“Take care, and send us a letter if you need anything,” Prince San smiled, just barely, “I will be keeping an eye on you still, just to make sure you’re safe and everything is working out.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” I bowed my head again, and was slightly startled when a girl, who was smaller than myself and frail looking, emerged from the sofa. How did she manage to conceal herself so well? She looked shy as she avoided looking at me, eyes fixated on Sir Jung as she hurried towards him, “I’ll be on my way.”
“Safe travels.” The prince’s voice carried over the faint whispers of Sir Jung as I turned and stalked towards the door, intrigued by the gasp I heard. I gripped the heavy door and as I went to push it open, I dared a glance backwards, finding the girl seated where Prince San had been previously sat, her eyes round as she stared up at a smirking Jung Wooyoung. And Choi San sported the same expression as he walked behind her, hands slowly slipping over her shoulders, towards her chest. I didn’t want to witness something that wasn’t for my eyes, so I hurriedly fled the room and then the mansion altogether, mind a mess as I tried to work out the best plan to approach the King, and kill him. The waxing crescent moon witness to my new turmoil.
The streets of the burgh of Aurora in the daytime were a big contrast compared to its nighttime shenanigans. It was lively and filled with people going on and about their day, trying to catch the last paper at the printing house, buying resources or selling their best products at the market. Despite the wind being harsh today, it didn’t deter people from coming out to bargain, with the occasional fight breaking out in the square, rowdy men desperate to showcase who was most domineering. I remained inconspicuous as I stood behind the stand of a herbal stall, the vendor a very lovely old lady that would let me work for her while my brother was still alive. I rarely came to the market anymore, having found different ways for survival. Perhaps I was dumb for testing my luck day after day, but three years ago, I lost the reason I had been living for. And on that same day I was branded, forever belonging to King Jeong Yunho. I wasn’t afraid of death anymore; it was only a matter of time until it would catch up to me. Stealing and getting caught only resulted in a severed hand, I would still have my other one if King Jeong felt generous that day. But in order to observe the King and follow through with the task Prince San had tasked me with, I needed to be in the most populated areas, areas which the King often frequented. And the market and square were those places. The King would parade around every day with his Royal Guards, surveying the place and taking anything he liked without as much as a ‘thank you’. Everything belonged to him, he could take whatever he pleased without any consequence. It was something we had grown familiar with quite soon after he proclaimed himself the new King of the Kingdom of the Fallen. It was no secret that Jeong Yunho killed his own father to become King much faster, to assert a regime that his father, the late King Choi, would have absolutely hated and refuted. But as long as Prince Choi San was alive, there would always be a glimmer of hope for better times. Times that would perhaps come sooner than expected if I was successful with my mission.
I had been arranging the spearmint when an old lady stopped in front of the stand, leaning on a cane, face wrinkly, her sniffing loud as she stared at all the herbs displayed on the wooden table. It was cold today, yet the old lady lacked a coat that would protect her from the harsh wind. My eyebrows furrowed, and after checking that my black shawl was in place and covering the lower half of my face, I stepped forward.
“Good morning,” I greeted the lady with an easy smile, “How may I help you?”
Her eyes slowly travelled up to my face, and I was greeted with an unfortunate sight. Her eyes were clouded with cataracts, yet they fell perfectly on my own eyes, “Dear one, please help me out a little.”
Her voice was raspy and airy, so I nodded and went around the stand to approach her, the cacophony of the market too loud for her to properly hear me.
“What would you like to buy?” I asked once I have stopped next to the lady, her grey eyes focused on the herbs.
“I’m too old for my own good,” The old lady muttered with a sad chuckle, “my joints aren’t in their best shape. Do you have something to soothe the ache? Something strong and efficient.”
I hummed and glanced at the wooden table, knowing very well what would help ease the old lady’s pain a little, “Nettle will be great for your painful joints, ma’am. Would you like some?”
“Yes, please.” She nodded, eyes falling on me again, “Could you give me five leaves? That wouldn’t be more than two shillings, right?”
“No, it wouldn’t.” I reassured her with a smile as I walked back behind the stand and crouched down to grab a smaller brown parchment roll. I stood and grabbed five leaves as the loudness of the market seemed to get even louder at once, until it slowly started turning into a low murmur, becoming a mere hum. I paid it no mind as I carefully packed the nettle leaves the old lady asked for, slipping in three more without anyone noticing, before I wrapped the parchment up, making sure the leaves wouldn’t slip out, “It’ll be one shilling, ma’am.”
Despite speaking softly, my voice sounded almost too loud in the sinister silence falling upon the market, and it took me a little to realize what was happening. The old lady seemed unfocused as she had turned around, stepping back to the point she was almost pressed up fully against the wooden table of the stand. Nobody moved, nobody blinked, nobody spoke, nobody breathed. My hands clenched into fists and my leather gloves crunched at the motion, almost too loud in the deafening silence. The hooves of the horses were loud against the cobblestones and the crowd parted in the middle, scurrying to make way for the King and his Royal Guards. Despite not wanting to see them, I couldn’t help but turn my head and watch like the rest of the market, as the tall black horse rode at the front, a Friesian, carrying the King proudly on his back. Nobody would’ve been able to guess the horrors caused by the soft featured King, whose cheeks were full and tinged red due to the cold air, lips full and a dark red, eyes rather round than sharp. And yet, the emotionless expression on his face and the constant leer present on his features would make anyone reconsider their perception of the King, cowering in fear as his dark eyes would settle on you, lips pulling up in pleased smugness at the blatant fear displayed by his people. Everybody hated him, yet nobody was brave enough to finally stand up to him.
Four guards followed after him, a man with silver blonde hair and a towering height that matched the King’s following close behind with his own horse on the King’s right side, with his left side being claimed by a long-haired redhead, with eyes so haunting that they always stared right into your soul. Those two were the King’s Royal Guards, always by his side, his right hands. The King went nowhere without the two, and the silver blonde haired man was like a hound, always breathing down the King’s neck, possessive and murderous at the slightest hint of threat. One would think his obsessive behavior was concerning, but he took his job too seriously, having vowed his life to the King a long time ago. The woman wasn’t much better, but she at least was sly and coy about it, always surveying everyone and everything, sensing danger before it would happen.
The King and his guards passed by the herbal stall, and the poor old lady jumped and covered her eyes as she hung her head low, making sure she didn’t look at the King for too long. Nobody dared look at him for more than a few seconds, afraid that he’d misunderstand their curious stare and sentence them to a painful death. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But I wasn’t scared of death nor the King, and I allowed my eyes to follow his form as he came to a halt just a few stands down, where a loose-mouthed man sold jewelry. They were one of the finest you could find at the market, pricey too if you weren’t on good terms with him. I watched as the silver blonde haired guard got off his horse the second the King’s stopped, and hurried to stand next to the tall Friesian as King Jeong released the reigns, turning his head left and right slowly. The redhead followed close behind, stopping mere millimeters behind the tall guard, the two sharing a sharp glance as the male extended his hand to help the King down. The other two older guards remained on their horses, eyes surveying the market as their faces remained emotionless. I glared at the back of the King’s head sharply, his blood red gown decorated with golden accents too bright and contrasting against his otherwise black attire. His black riding breeches were tucked inside his tall riding boots, covering and protecting the King’s calves, reaching almost up to his knees, the fabric of the pants no doubt worth more than everything I’ve ever owned altogether. A thick looking black shirt clung to his broad body tightly, top buttons threatening to pop as the King rolled his shoulders a few times backwards, patting the silver blonde haired man on the back a little forcefully. The guard adorned a coat that reached mid-thigh, colors similar to the King’s, however his was rather black than red and it was adorned with red and golden accents showing his rank, and that he belonged to the Jeong Royal Court. The redhead’s coat reached down to her ankles and had intricate designs of red and golden down the back of the fabric, hair tucked under the coat.
The King moved, and I found my eyes fixating on him again, sneering to myself as he walked towards the vendor with the gemstones and jewelry. My body reacted instantly at the sight of his right hand, memory burned into my skin, quite literally, for the rest of my counted days. The King’s left hand was protected from the cold with a glove that looked like it was a soft material, however, his right hand was bare of such protection. Instead, his right hand was adorned by rings, claws, that I still could feel in my worst nightmares pressing into my skin. They were made of steel, and they were sharp, the jewelry on his fore- and middle finger sharp to the point they could cut your flesh. The ornaments clung to his long fingers like they were his second skin, part of him. The ring on his middle finger adorned a huge ruby, an addition to the piece made by King Jeong himself. His ring finger was decorated by a ring that curved to the side, caging his pinky finger in as well, which was decorated by a piece that could be compared to a miniature spear. The King’s right hand was a weapon in its own, easily able to stab and kill you just with his bare fingers. The ornaments were a family heirloom, one that only the King was allowed to wear, yet they haven’t been this sharp until they fell into the claws of Jeong Yunho. Their intricate design made them beautiful, but they carried too much terror with them for one to appreciate their beauty.
My eyes snapped up from his hand upon hearing his voice, a sound I still had nightmares about, “Chwe, did the gems arrive?”
“Your Grace,” The vendor called Chwe Hansol quickly bowed his head deeply, “yes, the gems have arrived this morning.”
“Perfect.” The King’s lips pulled to the side, the smirk making his whole demeanor more predatory. Despite only being able to see the side of his face, I knew he had a hungry glint in his eyes as the vendor grabbed a small wooden chest and opened it for the King. The redhead had started walking around while still remaining close to the King, inspecting the items the neighboring vendors of Mr. Chwe had. Everyone was tense as the King wordlessly grabbed the gemstones and inspected them from close, face becoming devoid of emotion again, eyebrows pulling into a frown slowly. I was sneering before he spoke up, well-aware that nothing would please the King, no matter how high quality it was.
“You call this a gem?” The King scoffed, irritation lacing his voice as he threw the gemstones back inside the little wooden chest harshly. Nobody would’ve handled the pricey gems like that, but when you had all the power and money in the world, one wouldn’t care, Jeong Yunho certainly didn’t. I couldn’t help the dark expression that crossed my face, eyes boring into the side of the King’s face, wondering suddenly that if I were to throw my dagger straight into his neck, how many more seconds I’d have left on this Earth before his loyal dogs would murder me in cold blood. Scarily, almost as if the silver blonde haired man was a mind reader, his head whipped around and his sharp eyes found mine, small eyes narrowing and making them appear even smaller. His impassive expression would’ve been nerve wrecking to one that appreciated their life, but I didn’t care for my safety. I had nothing left for me in this world anymore. The redhead was still roaming around, commenting at times about the quality of products, and she took a scarf without dropping any shillings to the poor vendor, her face twisting for a second before she fixed it and thanked the redhead for appreciating her merch.
“Your Grace,” Mr. Chwe found his voice, yet it sounded terrified, “These are from the Kingdom of Light, finest of its kind and most sought after—”
“Are you saying that I am stupid and can’t recognize real gemstones?” The King spat, leaning over the stand, his glaring eyes boring into the vendor’s. The man started to shake, and I grit my teeth to stop myself from interfering. If I got killed right now, I would fail the crown prince, and I couldn’t do that.
“No—no, Your Grace!” The vendor exclaimed, shaking his head furiously, “Your Grace knows better than I will ever know! I was merely say—saying what has been relayed to myself as well, Your Grace. I am ashamed of ever suggesting such thing, and I will never show my face around—”
“Now, now,” The King snickered, lips pulled into an amused, yet irritated, smirk, “don’t be a yapping little boy, are you going to cry?”
My jaw clenched and I found myself gripping onto my skirt tightly, breaths coming out shallow as the silver blonde haired man was still staring into my soul, watching my every move. His lips were pulled into a sneer, and I didn’t fail to notice his hand tightening around the handle of his sword.
“N—no, Your Grace.” Mr. Chwe lowered his eyes and shook his head, lips pulled into a thin line as his whole being shook, “Unless it’s what Your Grace wants me to do—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” The King threw his head back and laughed, yet it lacked amusement and was laced with sheer craze, the sound sending shivers down my spine, “You’d cry for your King?”
Mr. Chwe’s head was shaking as he nodded, still staring at the ground. The King suddenly hissed and I almost took off towards the two as his right hand sprung forward, gripping the vendor’s jaw so hard his claws practically tore into his skin. The man’s face contorted in pain, yet he made no sound except the quiet gasp he accidentally let out, “Then cry for me, you pathetic fool.”
The King leered in the vendor’s face, tone laced with venom, eyes wide as Mr. Chwe watched the King stunned. I bit my lower lip as my eyes switched between the King and his royal guard, whose stare would have long killed me if that were possible. I knew what my eyes conveyed, they were laced with pure hatred and disdain, boring into the King’s profile as my hands shook in anger, threatening to bubble over any time. I was playing a dangerous game; I knew the shawl did little to nothing to conceal my raw emotions pulsating through my eyes.
“Bastards like yourself shouldn’t handle gemstones.” The King hissed just as the silver blonde haired man took off, jaw clenched and eyes set on me, ablaze. I have run out of luck, so it seems. But before he could even come close to the stall I was at, the King’s venomous tone turned to a light and almost airy tone.
“Song Mingi.” It wasn’t a question, nor a chastising, yet the guard froze instantly. His eyes never left my face as the King lazily tuned his head, dark eyes falling on his tall guard. The redhead was by the King’s side instantly, probably thinking that her fellow guardian sensed danger, ready to protect her King. The market seemed frozen in time as nobody spoke or moved, wide eyes now switching between the royal guard, Song Mingi, and myself. For a second, my heart skipped a beat thinking that I have been discovered, recognized, my right hand burning under the leather glove. But as the King’s eyes slowly trailed from his guard onto me, there was no sign of recognition on his face. I gulped, not due to nervousness, but because my throat suddenly felt dry, lungs tightening as the King’s dark eyes burned my skin, tearing me apart. The memory was too vivid in my mind despite it happening three years ago, and I realized that even if I tried my best, I wouldn’t be able to mask my hatred towards Jeong Yunho. But perhaps he was so used to that reaction that he didn’t care anymore as a sinister smile suddenly tugged at his red lips, hastily releasing Mr. Chwe, who fell back with a loud gasp. The King slowly stalked towards his loyal guard, yet his eyes never once left my face, amused smirk tugging at his lips. He was amused at the blatant hatred in my eyes, and I had to steel myself to stop the shaking of my hands at the sudden flare of anger I felt coursing through my veins.
“Stand down.” The King hissed in the guard’s ear as he walked past him, sharp claws grazing against the other tall man’s neck, but he didn’t flinch nor react at the contact. My eyes remained on the King as he neared the stand I stood at, the poor old lady gasping and stepping away with a low bow, probably bad for her already hurting and crooked back. I dared say nothing as Jeong Yunho stopped right across me, the table suddenly not enough to put the much-needed space between us. It felt like he had invaded my personal space, dark eyes boring into mine, narrowing into a blazing glare when I didn’t back down. Everyone cowered before the King, and just last minute, to try to make myself seem less suspicious, I finally lowered my eyes at the various herbs on the table, but I refused to bow. The King chuckled, but it sounded more vexed than amused. I didn’t care.
“Mingi,” He called out, voice low and dark, “grab those gemstones for me, will you?”
I didn’t glance up as I heard Mr. Chwe whimper and mutter apologies, a sharp cry leaving his lips. I could only hope the wound the King’s royal guard left wouldn’t be fatal. The King’s gloved hand suddenly entered my vision as he started touching the herbs displayed on the table, humming lowly in the back of the throat. I followed his hand with my eyes, jaw clenching when he scoffed, probably not satisfied by the scarce display of herbs. Of course, it couldn’t be compared to what he was aided with at the Castle, yet that was a thought Jeong Yunho wouldn’t be able to wrap his mind around.
“You’re running low on spearmint, little dove.” His velvety voice was mocking, and I felt his sharp gaze on my face as I gulped down the retort I had in mind, and slowly looked up.
“I will stock up on them today, Your Grace.” I couldn’t help but allow my tone to turn venomous when saying his title, “Had I known you were visiting our humble market, I would’ve brought out a wider range of herbs.”
The King chuckled, incredulity crossing his features at the blatant mockery and sarcasm dripping with every word I said, “Can you afford a wider range of herbs?”
“Yes, if those who are taking pay me for my services.” It was dangerous saying such things to the King and so openly, and I couldn’t help but glance at his royal guard as his jaw was clenched, the redhead next to him also throwing daggers my way. But surprisingly, the King just laughed, however, it didn’t sound genuine at all.
“Tell me, little dove, if I really hate a person, would this herb help with getting rid of them?” He cocked an eyebrow as he traced his gloved fingers delicately against a green leaf, slightly bigger than most. It was tucked almost underneath another plant, and I had missed that we had it displayed. It shouldn’t even be there; the plant was dangerous and poisonous even at the softest touch.
“Using a Dieffenbachia would lead to a painful and slow death, Your Grace.” I answered as the King grabbed the leaves with his gloved hand, a crazed grin decorating his lips.
“Nothing more entertaining than a slow and painful death, little dove.” The King whispered, dark eyes boring into mine as a harsh gust of wind blew through the market, pushing the shawl off my head, exposing my dark curls. Thankfully it was tied around my nape and it didn’t fall off my face as well, yet I didn’t miss the way the King’s eyes quickly racked over my newly exposed features.
“If you want them to choke to death, you can let them drink the tea ground from its leaves.” I found myself saying, my tone challenging, wondering where this conversation was leading to. The King bit his lower as he looked down at the leaves, chuckling to himself before placing them back down and holding only one still as he raised his hand up, directing it towards my face. I didn’t flinch away, I didn’t even blink as my eyes bore into Jeong Yunho’s, an intrigued glint in his.
“Would you eat it if your King asked you to?” His tone dropped to a low baritone as he tilted his head to the left, features becoming cold. My jaw clenched, and I fought my instincts of turning around and running away as a chuckle left my lips.
“I would like to know how I have wronged you, Your Grace, that you seem to hate me so much you want my dismay.” I raised an eyebrow, the King’s lips slowly pulling into an amused smirk, eyes widening as he tapped the leaf against the tip of my nose, making my palms ball up into fists at my sides. My heartrate had picked up, but I forced myself to remain calm. He could force it down my throat, of course, and then the whole mission would fail because of me.
“Killing people doesn’t always need to have a reason,” Everything in my screamed to break his face in half, but I just bit my lower lip underneath my shawl and tried to regulate my breaths, “I’ll spare you today, little dove. You could be a green witch instead of wasting your life away here, behind a stand, selling herbs to useless people that have no idea how to use them.”
The King placed the Dieffenbachia leaf back to where it initially was and leaned just slightly forward, his eyes searching mine. I huffed, smiling underneath my shawl sarcastically, tilting my head as I raised my eyebrows at him, “So that you’ll have a reason to kill me because I’m a green witch?”
Not that the King needed an actual reason to kill someone.
“No, I wouldn’t kill you if you were my little green witch, little dove.” His voice darkened just as his face did, eyes turning cold and lips turning into a hungry leer as his eyes took in my face, traveling lower, all over my body. I hated the possessiveness he displayed, even more so because I was his, he just didn’t know it. The scar burned on my hand, and it felt so hot that I almost subconsciously yanked my leather glove off my hand. But if I did that, he’d know, and I’d rather die than let the King know.
Just as I opened my mouth to refute such scenario, his royal guard stepped in, looking completely fed up with the exchange between the two of us as his expression was dark, very clearly fuming while the redhead stood a little behind, smirking at the silver blonde man. We made eye contact for a second, and she subtly nodded her head towards me, prompting me to avert my eyes and look at the King again.
“My King, we should get moving.” Song Mingi’s voice was gruff, low, and raspy as his sharp eyes pierced my skull, “We have what we came for.”
“No need to rush, my Mingi,” The King chuckled, grinning at his guard, “I think we should look around today, make sure everything is as it should be. That everyone respects their duties, and King.”
I smirked as the King threw me a glare, for some obscure reason letting me off the hook despite disrespecting him so clearly and constantly.
“Keep your eyes wide open, little dove,” He sneered, jaw clenching, “you might just fall prey to a big, bad, terrifying hunter.”
I bowed my head deeply in plain mockery as the King hissed, turning around and stalking towards his Friesian. To my surprise, and everyone else’s, the redhead walked up to me and tossed a pouch filled with shillings at my chest, smirking in amusement before she was headed for her own horse. Song Mingi seemed displeased and mad, his shoulder knocked against the redhead’s when they crossed paths, and as he mounted his horse, he threw me such a murderous look that it easily rivalled the King’s. And before anyone could even digest the fact that I just got paid by the King despite him not buying anything from me, the King and his royal guards took off, horses neighing and hoofs loud as they galloped away.
Despite the sun settling high up in the sky blazing down on Aurora, the mist settled upon the market never quite went away, the mood of people rather gloomy to after the King’s visit. It had been only a few hours since he had waltzed in with his royal guards, yet it felt like mere minutes. The King’s presence was everlasting and blood-curdling, you couldn’t escape it even if he wasn’t there anymore. It shouldn’t have been surprising, upon one glance, he could make anyone cower in fear, even the bravest and strongest soldier. I had gone about my day, selling and conversing amicably with other vendors while making sure I paid attention to the smallest shift in the atmosphere, so, I wasn’t too surprised to hear a spine-chilling scream cut off the conversation I was having with Mr. Chwe. After the King had left, I rushed to his side and patched him up, the cut on his cheek the only damage done to him, thankfully, and it wasn’t too deep either. Song Mingi had been lenient this time, it was rare. But I suppose the King needs its gemstone supplier alive if he plans on importing more treasures at a low, and illegal, price. What the King wanted, he got, no matter whether it was just or wrong.
Everyone froze as more shouting came from the square, and as the horns were blown, my muscles tensed and my stomach dropped. An execution would take place. The air was charged with suspense as everyone seemed to be at a standstill for a second before they started rushing towards the square, vendors leaving their stands unattended, civilians pushing each other aside to reach the square faster. I wasn’t in a rush, but when the King’s royal guards started shouting at everyone to move to the square while shoving people forward, I knew I had no choice but to actually attend the execution. Not that I had a choice, everyone had to attend these shenanigans of the King. My heart started racing as a man stood on the raised platform in the middle of the square, held by none other than Song Mingi and another guard, who was gruff and angry looking. I gulped as I made sure my shawl covered my face and hair, adjusting my leather gloves as suddenly they felt like they were slipping off my hands. My scar was itching, I knew it was just my brain making me believe that the wound was fresh again, but I couldn’t force myself to stop when my eyes fell on the King, the malicious smirk on his lips morbid. He stood at the side of the platform, looking like he had never been more entertained in his life before as the man his guards held on to was wriggling around frantically, whatever he was shouting didn’t make sense anymore.
I gulped hard as the King’s eyes surveyed the crowd, but when they moved past me, I felt myself relaxing just slightly. The crowd that had gathered around was murmuring lowly, everyone wondering the reason for this execution as there were some people pushing around others in order to get to the front. I did not understand the morbid need of humans to see such gruesome scenes that were to follow in a few minutes, but I couldn’t fight against the wave as I was shoved to the front. My jaw clenched and my hands turned into fists as a man was mumbling to himself behind me, urging the King on to kill the poor civilian.
“Residents of Aurora!” The King’s deep voice boomed over the masses, crazed eyes setting on the crowd. His cheeks were tainted red still, lips redder than they were in the morning, and his black hair seemed dishevelled, “We have gathered here to teach you a lesson, again.”
The crowd froze as the King leered at everyone, stepping up onto the platform, making the civilian scream that he wasn’t guilty, that he didn’t do anything wrong. The King walked past him, but turned sharply and threw such a hard blow against the man’s jaw that I heard something crack. The crowd gasped loudly and I exhaled sharply, trying to calm the rage that was slowly bubbling up in my bloodstream. I couldn’t act out right now, it would bring my dismay, the mission would be over before I could have even started it.
“This man here,” Jeong Yunho’s gloved hands slipped through the strands of the man’s matted hair, and he yanked the man’s head back harshly as he faced the crowd, the King’s neck and ears red from rage, “tried to take something that doesn’t belong to him.”
“Your Grace, I—”
“Silence!” Song Mingi hissed and threw a blow to the man’s gut. He would’ve toppled over if it weren’t for the two guards holding him up. The redhead had sat on the raised platform, shoulders hunched forward as her eyes watched the crowd closely, uncomfortably settling on me for a second too long. I ignored her haunting gaze, and instead looked at the King.
“Will you try and lie your way out of this, peasant?” The King hissed as his ablaze eyes snapped towards the man, who had started whimpering and shaking his head, “You tried to take my riches, peasant. The King’s possessions, more specifically.”
“I—I wasn’t, I swear—” Jeong Yunho’s face twisted into something dark and sinister as he leaned down and got all up in the poor man’s face.
“Were you really not?” The King’s voice was barely above a whisper, laced with calmness. It was frightening, the whole square went silent as the wind howled between the buildings and abandoned stands. The redhead was swinging her legs back and forth, Song Mingi’s face twisted in disgust as the man he was holding had tears streaming down his face.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” He averted his eyes to the ground, lips shaking. It was foolish of him trying to take the King’s ornaments, but I could understand him. He was probably so hungry that he was desperate enough to do something like this. Unfortunately, it would bring his end…or perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, a way out of Aurora forever.
“Shame your apology means nothing to me.” The King whispered, releasing the man as he walked forward to the edge of the platform, the redhead’s back straightened and she stopped swinging her legs. The King briefly glanced at her and she got off hastily, standing to the side as Song Mingi directed the smallest of smirks at her, visibly pissing the redhead off. It was slightly frightening how her height almost matched the King’s and Song Mingi’s, barely a few inches shorter than the two men. She was a powerful warrior and a strong soldier of the Royal Guard.
“There’s order in this world,” The King started, voice eerily steady as a slow grin stretched over his features, “There’s laws in this world, and they have to be respected. They will be respected as long as you all are under my watch, bevans. It’s hilarious how dumb you all are to think that you could touch something that belongs to your King, let alone try and steal it. Such behaviour will not be forgiven, and thus it will be punished accordingly.”
The King paused, licking his lips, right hand settling on the handle of the sword he had sheathed around his hips. My body was tense and my heart was beating loudly, almost so loud that I couldn’t hear the King’s words anymore. Goosebumps covered my skin everywhere, and suddenly the shawl around the lower half of my face made it hard to breathe, it felt like panic was overtaking my whole being. I felt like Jeong Yunho could see through me and I’d be the next one executed today. What if he somehow just knew that his brother sent me to assassinate him? What if the redhead and Song Mingi also knew and were only waiting for the right moment to snatch me away and kill me in the most antagonizing and slow way? My breath stuttered in my throat when the King’s eyes suddenly fell on me, as if he remembered who I was after all those years.
“Usually, severing the hand you had stolen with would do the deed,” The King tsked, dark eyes boring into mine as my right hand was burning up, “But this time it won’t be no good. I have been too lenient with my people lately; I fear you are forgetting the rules.”
The crowd muttered in discomfort as everyone hung their heads low, not wanting to be the next targeted by the King. But I couldn’t look away as Jeong Yunho smirked, narrowing his eyes challengingly at me. I would be next if I didn’t succumb to him, so, I gritted my teeth and lowered my head until the cobblestones were the only thing I could see. The King chuckled as I heard his sword being drawn.
“Good,” He leered, tapping his sword against the wooden platform, “Now, watch.”
Almost at an instant, the crowd whipped their heads up as the King walked towards his two guards, nodding once at Song Mingi as the poor man started frantically begging the King to let him off this time, that he’d serve him for the rest of his life, that he could take both hands if he wanted to. Song Mingi and the other guard holding him down suddenly forced him forward, pushing his head down onto the long table, his chin hitting the table loudly.
“No, please!” The man started shouting, trashing around, but the redhead was up on the platform in an instant, pushing his back flush against the table so that he wouldn’t move around so much, “No—no! I swear! I swear I will do anything! Please, please, be merciful Your Grace, I regret what I had done, I really do! Spear me this one time! Your Grace!”
But the King stood by the edge of the table, next to the man’s head, staring down at him with dead eyes, expression soulless. Because he didn’t have a soul, because Jeong Yunho was the Devil himself, not even trying to disguise it anymore.
“You seem to have forgotten that you are my property, bevan, and I do whatever I want to you.” The King hissed, raising his sword up high, held by both hands. My heart was beating out of my chest, and there was a collective gasp as time seemed to slow down. It wasn’t my first time seeing a beheading, and I knew it wouldn’t be my last either, but the ear-piercing shrill scream the man let out before the King’s sword came harshly down on his neck, slashing his skin, was deafening, and it made my ears ring. The sound of skin splitting open, blood gushing out, the crunching of bones, and then the hard thud of something heavy made me so nauseous that I was afraid I would throw up right then and there. My eyes were glued to the headless body that now lay limply on the table, the three guards releasing it as they stepped back. My eyes were frozen on the stray head that fell onto the platform, slowly rolling forward. It brought blood in its wake, oozing out of it, out of the headless body, his once soulful eyes now wide and unblinking, and mouth open in a silent scream. The man’s eyes were now glossed over and empty, mouth making no noise anymore, yet I could still hear his scream. My body was shaking, my mind was numb, and my right hand felt like it was slowly melting off around the scar. There was someone crying in the crowd, loudly, then there were people who were gagging. Nobody was looking at the head, nobody but me. I couldn’t look away, the rage in my bloodstream forced me to keep looking at it, to lament at the feeling, to gather it deep inside myself and channel it into every particle of my body that wanted to kill the King.
I flinched as the head fell off the platform and continued rolling towards the crowd, towards me. And despite how gruesome it looked, I couldn’t look away, I didn’t want to anymore. My body and brain weren’t working in sync anymore, my thoughts were a bit hazy as my leg raised and stepped on the left cheek of the man’s head, stopping it from rolling forward anymore. A woman next to me toppled over and threw up, everyone else gasping and rushing away from us. Everyone watched, yet nobody wanted to touch it. What was so different about it now? Weren’t we all partaking in the man’s ruthless death either way? A floorboard creaked and my head snapped up, greeted by the tall form of the King as he closed in on me, eyes burning and face covered in droplets of blood. It dripped off his chin rhythmically, soaking his black shirt underneath his gown covered in the Royal colours. The smell of iron flooded my nostrils at once, almost as if the King reeked of it himself, and a sudden dizziness hit my head. But I didn’t look away, I didn’t move. The square was dead silent as the King crouched down without breaking eye contact, he was breathing through his nose hard, jaw clenched. I kept my eyes on his as I looked down at him, left hand fisting my long skirt, brushing against the metal handle of my dagger hidden underneath my thick belt. It would’ve been so easy to kill him, but the risk of failure was too high.
Suddenly, something was yanked out from underneath my foot and it hit the ground harshly, rattling my ankle, making my eyebrows furrow as the King stood to its full height, looming over me. The smell of iron was strong, but something even stronger clashed with it, the smell of vetiver. The King’s lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth, tongue poking out to wet his lips, his chocolate brown eyes blown wide with a darkness I didn’t understand yet. He looked like a man who was crazy, ready to annihilate anything in its path. I was in his path, and he would get rid of me just for the fun of it. I didn’t even realize I had been holding my breath until the King’s eyes finally left my face, he looked over my head at the shocked crowd, holding the dead man’s head up high.
“This,” His harsh voice boomed over the silent square, “is what happens to those disobeying their King!”
I felt eyes on me, I was aware of everything around myself, but I could only stare at the King’s face as everyone else looked somewhere else. Everything was too fresh in my mind, that day when he maimed me, the day I lost my brother…it was suffocating, it was eating me up. I couldn’t breathe anymore, I needed to get air despite being out in the open square. The harsh wind wasn’t cold anymore, my body had become numb to it. My figure was trembling so hard I could hear and feel my teeth clattering against each other, my lips quivering. Yet no tears clouded my eyes, heart too stale and dry to cry anymore. There was nothing except rage and fright left in my body, and the desperate yearning for freedom. The terror wouldn’t stop as long as Jeong Yunho was alive. And when I looked up at his face again, eyes shaking in blind rage, I was surprised to find the same expression on the King’s face. He was sneering, cheeks red and nose flaring as he glared me down, his hand holding the head shook. He wanted all of us dead, and all of us wanted him dead.
My hand tightened around the handle of the dagger, and if I closed my eyes, I could everything play out in front of me. All I had to do was yank the dagger out from underneath my belt, grab onto the King’s gown and yank him closer to myself, pull him down so that we’d be eye-level so that I’d stare into his eyes full of hatred while I plunge the dagger deep inside his neck, cutting his artery. Blood would gush out, spraying on me, coating me in his royal blood, one that was red instead of blue and tasted of iron, just like of the man’s he’s killed. I wanted to stare him in his dark eyes as the life left his, wanted to hear him gargle on his own warm blood, wanted to hear his gasp for air helplessly as everyone watched him fight for his stupidly mortal life. I wanted him to suffer, to feel like everyone he’s ever hurt or killed. I wanted him to shake in terror as his life slipped away from him without him being able to do anything about it. I wanted him to beg to be speared, to be saved, to be forgiven. I wanted him to crumble at my feet and clutch at my legs, grip loosening the harder he fought to stay alive. What a stupid mortal this King was.
Powerless, defenceless, helpless.
“Scatter around everyone!” Song Mingi’s harsh and raspy voice boomed through the square, sharp eyes frightening everyone away, “Go back to your stands!”
There was a promise in the King’s eyes before he turned and threw the head onto the platform, some men from the pub rushing over to clear the platform. And I was walking away stiffly, hand still clutching my dagger as I tried to ignore the painful itch of my scar. It felt like daggers were thrown towards me, and I didn’t have to look back to see the King, the redhead, and Song Mingi stare at my retreating form. I didn’t have to look back because I knew I had made myself the King’s target, a price on my head if I were to misbehave even in the slightest bit. And I didn’t have to see or hear the King as his lips moved, words hushed as he instructed his trusted royal guard to keep an eye on me, suspicious of my identity and intentions.
Once the devil catches you, you can’t escape its clutches ever again. He holds you down, robs you of your soul and sucks the life out of you until you’re nothing but a shell of what you once used to be. He sucks you dry of your life essence; he robs you of the light in your eyes, of the love harboured inside of you, of all of your joy, of the will to continue living. And once he’s done with you, he leaves you alone in this world to rot away, to suffer, to cry, to hate, until your heart is nothing but a rotten fruit. A damned fruit.
Forbidden, tempting, dangerous.
If famish wasn’t such a strong state of mind, so strong that it consumes your thoughts in its entirety, the damned fruit would’ve remained untouched. But when famish mingles with fear and pain, it leaves you desperate enough to go to lengths that you know once caught would make you suffer.
There was nobody but myself to blame as I was veered inside the cold Throne Room, heart pounding and eyes tear filled as people moaned and groaned in pain, a line consisting of five people in front of me. The grip on my right arm was so painful and so tight that it probably had already cut off my blood flow, and I couldn’t fight it off. I was frail and small, a man twice my size and height could easily do whatever to me. And yet, despite knowing that I might not see another sunrise, all I could think about was my sickly brother laying in his bed, struggling to breathe while hungry. I had almost made it outside the market when I heard someone chase after me, shouting as they closed in on me. Somebody saw me take the damn apple, and they snitched to the Royal Guard, to Song Mingi. All I wanted was to feed my sick brother, to prolong his time in this world and fulfil one wish of his. He just wanted to eat an apple.
My body trembled as the lady at the front of the line wailed in pain, choking on her own screams as the smell of burnt skin was horrid in the room, bringing acid into my throat. I was nauseous, I felt like passing out. I tried to yank my arm free again and bolt out of the Throne Room, but the guard holding me just hissed and yanked me forward as the sobbing woman was dragged away, hand cradled to her chest. I couldn’t look, I was too afraid. I knew what would happen to me, everybody knew what would happen to them if they dared steal, but I didn’t want to accept it yet. I just couldn’t. If the King branded you, you were his for eternity.
The Devil would find you in his next life, and he would claim you again as his. He would make you suffer; he would torture you and laugh while you beg for forgiveness.
I jumped as a man at the front started begging loudly, falling to his knees as his arm was forced onto the marble table, the fireplace blazing the closer we got to it. There were only three more people in front of me. The man started crying, trying to free himself, but the King’s laughter echoed in the vast Throne Room, and then the man’s scream was so loud it made my ears ring. I fought against the grip on myself again, breathing getting shallow as my heart was beating so fast, I thought I would die from heart failure before the sizzling metal rod could even touch my skin.
“Stop whimpering, you stupid bitch.” The tall man holding me hissed, sharp eyes boring into mine as he loomed over me with his lanky form. He was frightening, he was the Devil’s right hand, he was his Beelzebub. It felt like the room was closing in on me despite its grandiose size, like it was about to swallow me whole as perspiration gathered on my brows, slowly dripping down my temples. I couldn’t breathe when another man was maimed, marked for life, screams echoing in the vast chamber. My captor just smirked as the fear I felt reflected off my face, pulling me closer towards my tormentor. I wanted to run away, I wanted to save myself, I needed to return to my brother, but I wasn’t strong enough.
The King’s face was twisted in a sick expression as he pressed the metal rod into another man’s hand, his victim having long fainted. The man lay limply on the floor when the guard holding him up released him, and the King kicked him, but the man didn’t budge. The King’s jaw clenched and he groaned, looking at the guard who had held the man as if he was exasperated by his incompetence.
“Take this scum away, you fool!” He hissed, dark eyes settling on his guard as he bared his teeth at him. The King was even scarier in person, from up close, in the Throne Room. His red cheeks and burgundy tainted lips could’ve fooled anyone who didn’t know him. Why did a Devil like him have such soft features when all he did was hurt and hurt others, terrorize them and make them wish they were never born? Why was someone with an Angel face a creature so dark everyone feared its name and existence? My body shook uncontrollably as I realized I was next in line. Time stood still for a second, everything disappearing around me as my ears rung and eyes saw white only. And then, as my captor tugged on my arm, everything hit me at full force.
My rapid heartbeat, the thumping of my head, the desperation crawling up my throat, the need to save myself, I had to get out. I had to return to my brother, he just wanted an apple. Why was life unfair? Almost as if awoken from a dormant sleep, adrenaline kicked hard through my system, flooding my whole being like I didn’t know it was even possible. My lungs expanded and muscles tensed, and when Song Mingi tugged on my arm again, barely three steps away from the marble table, I jumped. I jumped and I kicked at the man’s chest, scratching his neck and making him yelp in pain. Yet he never released me, but I wasn’t giving up. I had to save myself, nobody else would do it for me. And so, I kicked when I was hoisted up by my waist, I screamed at the top of my lungs, I even punched whoever dared touch me. But as if I weighted nothing, I was thrown on the marble table, back hitting it hard, head crushing into the cold table. I gasped, vision fuzzy for a second, until a dark and sinister laugh snapped me back to reality. I froze when I realized I was being held down against the table by Song Mingi, expression so dark I would’ve recoiled if I could’ve. His jaw was clenched and his gaze was so sharp it could’ve cut me if it were possible. But the King, Jeong Yunho, he was calm. He looked the opposite of what his Royal Guard looked like, and something dropped deep in my stomach.
The King looked entertained by the fight I was putting up; he was enjoying it. My lower lip quivered as a hand decorated with rings, metal ornaments, reached out and lightly traced my bottom lip. I couldn’t breathe as my eyes were captivated by Jeong Yunho’s dark ones, pupils dilated as he sneered, a crazed look crossing his features as I gasped for air, trying to catch my breath. The King gripped my jaw tightly, so tightly that I thought he’d break it in two, but what was even more painful were the sharp ends of his rings cutting into my skin. I whimpered as I tried to pull my head away, but I was immobilised by Song Mingi, who was smirking as he watched the exchange.
“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered as his eyebrows furrowed, mock concern crossing his features, “Look at how frightened she is, My Mingi.”
The royal guard’s eyes turned even darker, a predatory look crossing his features as he chuckled, hold on me tightening just a little more as my body started shaking more violently, breathing loud as I breathed through my nose. The King’s smirk matched his guard’s, and he released a long sigh, making me whimper when he dug his sharp claws more into my skin, something hot prickling down my jaw and my neck, disappearing underneath the neckline of my black dress. The King’s eyes followed the drop of blood, and he closed his eyes for a second as he took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, a look so evil was present in his eyes that I shook my head at him involuntarily, begging him wordlessly to spare me, to let me go just this time.
“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered, pursing his blood red lips, suddenly releasing my jaw as he grabbed something. My heart raced faster than before, if that were even possible, and I shook my head as I felt sobs bubbling up my throat.
“Please, please, please,” My voice was hoarse and shaky, my mouth struggled to form the words I so desperately tried to speak, “My brother is sick, please.”
“You know the rules, little dove.” There was almost something like sadness tinging Jeong Yunho’s voice as his mouth pulled to the side, eyes staring off into the blazing fire. My jaw clenched as I looked at what he was holding, and my stomach coiled in even more fear. I couldn’t let this happen, I just couldn’t.
“Let me go, I promise I will never do it again, Your Grace.” I begged, hoping that I could get to him somehow, but the King just hummed as if he wasn’t truly listening to me. I was terrified, but I couldn’t help but feel wronged. If the King provided us with everything we needed, with sufficient food, then we wouldn’t have to go out and steal as a means of survival. He was the one forcing us into doing these things, and yet he was the one punishing us for something he would never change. It was unfair, and I couldn’t help but soak in the sudden anger that flared through my body, making me fight against the royal guard as he pinned my right against the marble table, holding me down by my shoulders with his other hand.
“Why should I pay for something I’m forced to do because you have never once helped your people, Your Grace?” I snapped, glaring at the side of the King’s head. He didn’t react, and I couldn’t remain silent anymore, “Why are you punishing me when you’re the one forcing us to live in poverty and famish, My King?”
I winced when Song Mingi’s elbow dug into my shoulder painfully, but I didn’t stop glaring up at the King as he looked borderline bored, uninterested in what I had to say.
“My brother is dying because of you!” I screamed, losing my sanity as the King didn’t react, only chuckled quietly, “My brother is dying because you took away everything from us and forced us into the slums. My brother is dying because you hold people in such terror that not even an apple can be gifted anymore. I stole that apple, because nobody would give it to me anymore out of kindness. While King Choi was alive, the Kingdom was flourishing. Everyone was happy and content, everyone enjoyed life. You—you are no King, Jeong Yunho—”
“Shut up, wench!” Song Mingi’s face was suddenly looming over mine as he screamed in my face, his whole face red and enraged as I stared back at him wide eyed. My heart was racing and I started trashing around violently, trying to fight the guard off again, but to no avail.
“My Mingi,” The King’s voice was light and soft, head turning to glance down at us, “don’t rile yourself up over the words of a poor peasant.”
“But—My King, she’s—” The guard looked shocked as he stared at the King wide eyed, seemingly confused.
“A stupid, confused, little girl,” The King chuckled, looking down at me with pity on his face that made me sick to my stomach, “she doesn’t know better. Perhaps this will teach her a lesson for once and for all.”
My eyes widened when the King’s hand moved, the sizzling hot rod pulled out of the fire, getting closer and closer to my body as the King moved agonizingly slow, taunting me by the large grin on his face. I whimpered and bit my lower lip, aware that Song Mingi was holding me even firmer than before, jaw set tight as his eyes were glued onto the King.
“No—” I stuttered, gasping for air as the King lightly grazed my hand with his gloved hand, “No! Don’t—don’t touch me!”
A serene smile appeared on his lips, looking into my eyes with a look that made me feel like a small child who had misbehaved and was now getting lectured for it. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to wriggle myself free, trashing my legs around and trying to push Song Mingi off myself, but his strength was incredible, and I was too frail to even as much as make him budge, “Let go of me! I didn’t do anything wrong! Don’t touch me!”
My throat hurt from my screams, but I wouldn’t give up. I would never, I had to get back to my brother. I couldn’t let that iron rod touch my skin; I’d be the King’s forever. I couldn’t let the Devil bound me to himself, I just couldn’t. I’d never be free again, I’d never be able to leave Aurora, “Now, if you stop throwing a fuss it’ll hurt less, little dove—”
The saliva that had gathered in my mouth landed on the King’s cheek as I spat at him, nose flared and eyes wide in rage and fear as my lungs heaved for air, “You’ll burn in the depths of Hell for—”
The iron grip around my throat rendered me speechless in seconds, before I could finish my curse. My eyes bulged as I clawed at the large hand wrapped around my neck with my left hand, Song Mingi’s grip the last thing I’d feel before I’d meet my death. The King just watched us, he didn’t blink, he didn’t react. His lips twitched, but he said nothing as my spit slowly dripped down his cheek, “My Mingi.”
And before I could even wrap my mind around the sudden oxygen rush in my lungs, a searing pain shot through the top of my right hand, so hot and so painful that a scream was instantly ripped from my hoarse throat. My back arched and fingers scraped at nothing as my right arm was still held down by the guard, the King’s eyes boring onto my face as he watched me frail around in excruciating pain. The smell of burnt flesh was disgusting and it made me gag knowing that it was my own flesh burning, branded by the Crown’s emblem for life. My vision went white for a second as the rod was still burning into my flesh, it felt like it would go through my hand at any given moment, creating a gaping hole in it. I heaved for air as I couldn’t scream anymore, body shaking in shock as suddenly the King smirked, yanking the rod off my hand. A loud sob ripped through my body, right hand shaking so badly that it felt like it was an alien limb, not controlled by my own body. The restricting hands were gone from my body, and I was afraid to look at the damage done. I was on the brink of passing out and throwing up at the same time, when suddenly the King’s gloved hand was in the air, and the next second it was connected to my cheek, sending my head flying to the side. The slap echoed in the vast room, and my sobs instantly stilled as my curly hair fell over my face, shielding it from the eyes of the two tyrants. My body stilled, yet my right hand never stopped shaking. The pain was searing, pulsing, traveling from my hand up to my wrist and my whole arm, making me grit my teeth as I tried not to cry out. It hurt so badly that it made me want to claw at the scorched skin.
“You’re mine, little dove,” The King’s dark words were whispered in my ear, voice deep, “and if you try to run, I will find you, and I will kill you with my own hands.”
“Burn in hell.” I managed to grit out through my teeth, throat feeling like sandpaper. The King chuckled; sound high pitched as I heard the metal rod being thrown onto the marble floor of the Throne Room.
“She’s a handful, My Mingi,” The King mused, and I felt a gloved hand grip my right thigh as I was veered off the table. I managed to sit up last minute and save myself from tumbling onto the floor, “Take her to the dungeons, let’s teach her another lesson for being disobedient and trying to curse her King.”
My eyes widened, desperation clawing at my bones as I tried to push the guard off, but he just grabbed my arms and tied them behind my back before I could even as much as protest. My head was spinning and it was a little hard to realize what exactly was happening, the pain coming from my hand the only thing I could focus on as Song Mingi made me walk, veering me towards some stone stairs at the back of the Throne Room. Yet, I was aware that I needed to go back to my brother.
“No, no, no—my brother—” A sob cut me off as I tried to plead with Song Mingi, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore, expression stone cold as I cried harder, “He’ll die, please!”
I was yanked back by my hair and forced to stop as Song Mingi breathed hard through his nose, eyes burning as he glared at me sharply, “I do not understand why My King spared you, but if you won’t shut your fucking mouth, I will gut you right here and right now. Then, you’ll join your brother you keep wailing for in Eden.”
I gasped as I shoot up, clutching at my chest and right hand shaking from the dull ache coursing through it, sweat covering my face and neck. My heart was beating frantically as I gasped for air, eyes searching my surroundings wildly. It was dark around me, but the moonlight shone through the opened curtains. The little candle I had lit before going to bed had burned out, and the sturdy wood of my bed made my back ache. I was safe. I was in laying in my bed, in my pathetic excuse of a cottage, far away from the Castle and the Throne Room. I tried taking deep breaths, tried slowing my heartbeats, tried to reason with myself that all of that was just a dream. But it wasn’t, it was a reoccurring nightmare of that cursed day. It made me miss my brother even terribly more, and as my eyes shifted towards the small dresser I had across from my bed, my eyes landed on the sketch of the King given to me by Sir Jung. Fury flamed inside my chest as my left hand slipped underneath my cold pillow, and in a swift movement, I pulled my dagger out from underneath and flung it at the sketch as a scream ripped through my lips. Jeong Yunho will pay for everything he’s done.
It had been two weeks since the beheading in the square, two weeks of me spying on the King to my best capacities. It wasn’t easy to remain unseen, but I managed to sneak by his Royal Guards just fine each time. Song Mingi and the redhead weren’t as attentive as they thought they were. Perhaps the King wouldn’t sleep so well at night knowing that his most trusted guards were incapable of sensing danger and noticing the littlest changes around themselves.
The King’s schedule was quite simple and easy. He left the Castle grounds early in the morning to go on a hunt in the forest surrounding his estate, then he’d go down to the market and parade down the wealthier parts of Aurora. It wasn’t too often that he went anywhere else but straight back to the Castle once he was done agonizing his people in the streets, however, he had gone once or twice dangerously close to the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhibited now. There was also a time when the King was headed to the slums, to a shop famous for its otherworldly businesses, meaning witchcraft. The King wasn’t opposed to it as long as the witches served him, and him alone. Anyone who dared use their knowledge against the King would be burned on a rug, in the square. There had been witch hunts before, they used to be more frequent while King Choi was the ruler as he was opposed to anything that dealt with darkness, however, Jeong Yunho wasn’t like that. He embraced the dark and he craved the power that came with it, a false sense of immortality laying within him. It only took me two days to realize that the King was plotting something, something that was kept hush-hush and a secret from even his two most trusted guards. The King had let them go back to the Castle one afternoon and then he galloped out of Aurora, only returning the next day. I couldn’t go after him, and curiosity ate me up when the next day the King had gone to the same witchcraft shop, staying in there for hours, looking pale and almost ghostly by the time he finally left the shop. If it weren’t for Song Mingi, who was at an instant by the King’s side, he would’ve crumbled to floor and fainted. The King was doing something very highly illicit, and I needed to find out just what. Both for my own sake, but also to help Prince Choi and Sir Jung in taking the Crown from Jeong Yunho.
Tonight hadn’t been different from the King’s daily shenanigans, however, for a change, the King had gone to a run-down pub, located a little bit too close to the slums. He was joined by his two loyal guards, Song Mingi and the redhead. They wore long black gowns to hide their identities as they slipped past the dark shadows coating the streets, the lamplighters not bothering to light the candles in this part of Aurora. Of course, that did not come as a surprise. The only adequately lit parts of our burgh were the market and square, where the royal guards would march around to check if the lamplighters were indeed doing their duties. Nobody cared about those suffering outside of the richer parts of Aurora, nobody cared about people like me.
I pressed closer against the cold brick wall of a rickety hut, barely holding itself up. Many houses looked like that in the area, and it was a truly saddening sight, especially when families with lots of children were forced to live in such conditions due to the King taking everything from them, leaving them to the rats. I tried not to think of those people, it made me remember my brother, and tonight I had to focus. I needed to get closer to the pub somehow, to gain more intel on whatever was going on inside, of what the King was up to once again. But by the time I gathered my courage and came up with a flawed plan, the door to the pub was kicked open and a drunk man stumbled outside, followed by two tall gowned figures. The drunk man was loudly whistling and he stumbled on a misplaced cobblestone, roughly crashing into the side of the pub. He howled in pain, but I paid him no mind as the tall figures turned the opposite way of the drunken man had started tumbling towards, and started walking. Their pace was fast, almost as if they were trying to get away from something.
I took a deep breath and remaining in the shadows, I crept after them, eyes fixated on their tall figures. I kept a few good meters between us, and I made sure to keep my footsteps light, so that they wouldn’t accidentally hear me. The sky was clear for once, and the moonlight was your only guide through the dark streets. For once, I was grateful that the lamplighters didn’t perform to their full capacity and left the slums unattended, making my job so much easier right now. I tried to decipher who was who, but the King and his Guard’s similarity in physique was a scary realization. Perhaps Song Mingi’s shoulders were wider and stance firmer, but I couldn’t say for sure. Especially when their strides seemingly were the same. I couldn’t tell the King and his Guard apart from behind, and I felt anxiety crawl up my throat as I prayed to God that the two wouldn’t separate.
The long street we had been walking down came to a crossroads soon. Going to the left would lead you back to the prettier and cleaner district of Aurora, however, turning right would take you towards the dense and haunting forest, towards the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhabited. As the two men took a left turn, I came to the alarming realization that the redhead was seemingly nowhere, and she had arrived with them to the pub. Could she have stayed back? Had the two men gotten rid of her? That sounded absurd, everybody knew those in the Royal Guard gave their lives to the King, and the redhead was one of his most devoted soldier, she surely wouldn’t have committed treason against someone she so blindly worshipped. But then where was she? My heart was thumping wildly in my chest as I had started glancing behind myself, paranoid that I was also being followed, probably by the redhead. If they were to catch me now, I would most certainly die as they outnumbered and outpowered me easily. I might have gotten stronger over the past years, but I still remained with a smaller built. And I was no warrior, I lacked the skills they have mastered a long time ago.
The streets turned narrow once again as we got closer and closer to the richer area, cottages in better conditions littering both sides of the street. There were very few candles still alight in the houses, and I had to be more careful as the candle lighting of the streets was better in this area. I pulled the shawl tighter around my face, and made myself smaller as the two men continued walking, but faster than before. I had to run, almost, to keep up with them. My breaths left my mouth in short puffs and as the two men rounded the corner, the main street leading them back to the Castle, I followed suit. However, I almost yelped as I crashed against a hard body, sending me backwards. I instantly panicked, eyes wide in fear as my left hand went to grab my dagger, but the man that I had stumbled into was neither the King nor Song Mingi. It was just a drunken civilian, looking borderline sick. His eyes were squinted and as he tried leaning closer to get a better look at my face, I grabbed his head and pushed him to the side, making him stumble. If I wouldn’t have caught his arm quickly, he would’ve stumbled to the hard cobblestone covered road. I have underestimated his state, and I took pity on him as he looked confused.
“Go home, old man, it isn’t safe out here.” I snapped at him; eyes boring into his. The man just blinked and then nodded once, clumsily taking off again, stumbling into every possible bench and bush he could. I shook my head and quickly rounded the corner, hoping that the distraction wasn’t long enough to make me lose my targets. But, to my misfortune, there was only one tall figure walking down the long street, their pace a lot slower this time. I gulped and pulled the neckline of my own gown tighter around my shoulders, heart beating fast as I hoped the man I was following was indeed the King himself, and not Song Mingi. But I couldn’t be sure, and I was helpless as I followed after him. He was a little ahead, a few good steps, and I refrained from closing the gap again, hesitant to give away my presence just yet. If it wasn’t the King, then I had no reason to follow his Guard, he was of no use to me. My eyebrows furrowed when the tall man took a right turn, going down a street that wasn’t leading towards the Castle anymore. What had they planned? Looking behind myself, left and right too, I made sure I wasn’t followed as I quickly ran down the rest of the street before rounding the same corner the man had, gripping the handle of my dagger. It was a narrow backstreet that connected to a dirt road which led down to a small field if you continued walking left, however, it met with another even shorter path, which was a dead-end behind a fancy Inn. The man continued walking, pace once again hurried, until suddenly a black shadow leaped from the side of a building, knocking the tall man into the narrow dead-end. My eyes widened as I froze in the middle of the street, heart pounding in my chest. What was happening? I should’ve turned around and left, but I had to know whether it was the King or Song Mingi getting attacked in the middle of the night. And so, I pressed myself against the brick wall of the Inn and crept to the edge of the building, peeking my head around the corner, just barely.
The unmistakable silver blonde hair was glinting underneath the moonlight as the hood of Song Mingi’s gown had fallen down, and I hissed in displeasure. I had been fooled. I wasn’t following the King, but Song Mingi. So where had the King gone then? What was he up to again? Or was Song Mingi just getting frisky behind an Inn after a night spent at a pub getting drunk? My question was quickly answered as a hard blow was thrown against the guard’s jaw, sending his head in the opposite direction. The guard hissed and suddenly sprung forward, hand wrapping around the throat of his attacker. But the attacker was quick to fight back, and the person’s nails dug into Song Mingi’s wrist until he was forced to release his attacker. The person grabbed the collar of his gown and pinned him against the wall, face leaning dangerously close to Song Mingi’s. The height difference was minimal between the two, and my eyes widened as the person’s hood slipped from her head, revealing her red hair. What were Jeong Yunho’s royal guards doing in a dead-end, mauling each other around?
“You complete scum!” The redhead’s voice was shaky, laced with venom, “How dare you go to our King and say such lies about me?!”
Song Mingi remained unmoving, finally having given up fighting the redhead. Instead, he leaned his head against the tall cement fence he was pressed up against, and smirked.
“I see My King has let you know about the little change that’s happened.” I watched as the redhead’s grip tightened even more around Song Mingi’s gown.
“I was supposed to go on that mission, Mingi.” The redhead pressed; tone hard.
“And now it’s me going, foxy.” Song Mingi chuckled in amusement, and I heard the redhead let out a frustrated yelp. I pressed myself against the brick wall, turning away from the scene. I could hear the two guards throwing insults at each other, their voices gradually getting louder, but I wasn’t interested in their quarrel. I was here for the King, and I had lost him. Now I wouldn’t know if he was headed back to the Castle or off to doing something unlawful again.
I sighed and rubbed my eyes for a second, gathering my thoughts and energy to head back to the slums, to my pathetic excuse of a hut. The air was chilly again, and I was thankful for the thick gown Prince Choi had sent me three days ago, a small note saying to ‘dress up well, it’s getting colder day by day’ placed on top of the heavy garment. I was thankful, and more than grateful for the gift sent by the Prince. I had nothing to repay him with, but perhaps getting rid of the King was the biggest treasure I could offer to the Prince right now.
I was headed down the short alleyway I had just followed Song Mingi down, meaning to go back onto the main street and then head back home. However, before I could even round the corner fully, gloved fingers curled into the fabric of my expensive gown and yanked me around the corner, throwing me against the bricked wall. I gasped as the wind was knocked out of my lungs, head hitting the wall loudly, making me groan as it shook my skull. As I tried to regain my bearings, I felt the gloved hand slip up towards my throat, long fingers wrapping around my throat and squeezing. I froze, left hand shooting up to hold onto my attacker’s wrist as my eyes finally cleared and were able to focus on the one holding me. And it was none other than Jeong Yunho, the King himself. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were mere slits as he glared down at me, towering over me due to his great height. The pressure around my neck grew stronger and I gasped for air, eyes widening just a little, trying to control the panic raising in my whole being. Being immobilised by the King felt too familiar, I couldn’t help but respond with panic as memories of the day I had been marked by him tried to resurface, remind me of the pain I had felt under his hands.
“What do you want?” The King hissed, lowering his head until he was eye level with me. I tried to gulp, but it was hard. My grip tightened around the King’s wrist, nails digging into his leather glove. I didn’t answer him, and even if I would’ve tried to, the way his hold was tightening stopped me from doing so.
“Who are you, peasant?” The King snapped and leaned even closer; eyebrows furrowed as his eyes travelled all over my face. He wasn’t able to see much of my features, but I knew he could see my eyes just well, and so I glared at him. My heart was racing and I tried to push his hand off, but it only made him squeeze tighter. My lungs started burning, the King was slowly choking me, antagonizing me even now.
“Speak up, wench.” It seemed he had realized I was a woman, disgust coating his features as his hot breath fanned over my cheeks. I grit my teeth and tried to push the King backwards, but he wasn’t budging. Dark sports started covering my vision, and I tried not to gasp for air, refusing to show weakness in front of him again. But as his right hand raised, the sharp edges of his ornaments grazing against the little exposed skin I had, I knew I had to do something. His ring clad fingers gripped at the shawl and my eyes widened more as I realized he was about to yank it off my face. I couldn’t let him see me; it would compromise the whole mission. In my panicked state, I did the next best thing I could that came to mind. I turned my head and bit his exposed right hand, biting through the material of my shawl. It probably wasn’t as painful as it would have been if my shawl wasn’t in the way of my teeth, but the King still hissed and ripped his right hand back, looking surprised. It allowed me little momentum to shake his grip off my neck too as it had loosened, and I lived with the opportunity, grabbing his arm and yanking it off myself. Before the King could fight back, I sprung forward and pushed at his strong chest, making him stumble back a few steps as he didn’t expect my attack.
“Who sent you, little dove?” He leered, eyes ablaze as a smirk slowly slipped onto his lips, looking like he had no intention of holding me again. Yet, he took two steps towards me, watching me like a predator watches its prey. I gulped, suddenly feeling helpless, just like the day I had been held down against the marble table, marked and maimed. I felt like that little girl again as my hands started shaking and mind got clouded with memories, making it harder to breathe through the shawl. The pain I had felt that day suddenly felt too vivid, too real, as my right hand burned, the Crown’s emblem forever burned in my skin. All the King had to do was yank my glove down and see for himself. He would’ve taken me back to the Castle and killed me, or worse, tortured me until he became bored of me.
“If you don’t speak now, I’ll kill you.” The King said in a light tone, smile spreading into a wide grin as his eyes glossed over with darkness. I gulped and steeled my nerves, reminding myself that I wasn’t that defenceless little girl anymore. I wouldn’t sit around and mop as I wait for Death to take me away. I have become stronger, both physically and mentally, and I had a mission. A mission which placed the fate of the Kingdom of the Fallen in my hands.
“You’ll kill me even if I speak.” I hissed, glaring at the King as he started laughing. There was nothing amusing about what I said, it was the mere truth. And as he extended his ring decorated hand towards my face again, I pulled my right arm back and swung it towards the King’s cheek with all the force I could muster. I was breathing hard as my gloved hand made contact with the King’s cheek, and I’ve never felt anymore more satisfying than having the King’s head snap to the side as my fist connected with his red tinged cheek. The night was quiet and my punch was loud. My heart was racing as a huge grin spread onto my lips, a grin the King couldn’t see and wouldn’t see as I suddenly took off, sprinting away. I was fast, but I knew they would catch up with me sooner than later, so, upon spotting vines coming down the side of a smaller cottage, I gripped onto them and climbed the wall as fast as I could. My heart was racing as I took off running again, hopping from roof to roof, praying that it wouldn’t give out underneath me as some felt a little too loose. I was also praying that the roof tiles wouldn’t slip underneath my weight, sending me tumbling to the cold and dirty ground.
I could hear the King and his two loyal guards chase after me, but it seemed like neither could climb onto the cottages, offering me the little advantage I needed to get away tonight. And knowing that I managed to instill even a little pain in the King would help me sleep better tonight.
Tonight had to have been the most nerve wrecking night of my whole life as I walked past the tall guards at the heavy front doors of the Castle. The air was warm as I stepped further inside the vast hallway, scenery way too familiar. I tried to remain calm and collected as a butler stepped closer, an inviting and warm smile on his lips, as he helped me slip out of my expensive fur coat. The dark brown fabric reached down to my ankles, shielding me completely from the biting chill the late autumn wind brought with itself. My heart felt like it would leap out of my chest anytime now as I clutched the white envelope tightly in my hands, the stamp of the Crown a blood red, asking for attention against the snow-white paper. I forced a small smile onto my lips as I followed the crowd towards the ballroom, gut twisting as we were ushered past the Throne Room, a room that had witnessed so much horror ever since Jeong Yunho had become King.
Despite completely fitting in with the rich crowd surrounding me, curtesy of Prince Choi, I still felt like everyone could spot that I didn’t actually belong here. The fabric of my white dress was soft against my pale skin, the best I had ever had the chance to wear, and it fell loosely around my body. There wasn’t anything too eye catching or special about the dress Prince Choi had sent for this specific occasion, and that was the purpose. I was supposed to blend in with the rich crowd and lure the King away from the masses, where I would make sure he’d never again see tomorrow’s sunrise. It wasn’t an easy task, but tonight was the perfect timing. There wouldn’t be another one like this anytime soon as these balls were organized on full moon’s only by the King, whispers about a ritual practiced by him resurfacing every time the ball took place.
The top of my dress was low-cut and it made me feel uncomfortable for exposing so much of my skin, the tops of my breasts quite visible to anyone who looked my way, the slit in the ruffles of the skirt at least decent enough that it didn’t reach too high. The straps around my shoulders were puffy but delicate, the prettiest V line I had seen a dress have so far. Thankfully, the design of the expensive dress allowed to match gloves with it, and so, I was delighted when I saw the matching white silky gloves placed at the bottom of the box this dress had arrived in. The gloves were delicate and soft, a little cold when I have tried them on, and reached just above my elbows, the rest of my arms exposed. It was warm inside the ballroom; therefore, I didn’t worry that I would catch a cold accidentally. I have smoothed down my hair, the long curls reaching down the middle of my back, and kept it minimal when applying a little beauty enhancer to my face. The blush on my cheeks was artificial and so was the glitter on top of my eyelids, and the redness of my lips. I couldn’t do much about my pale complexion, and could only hope that the rich people wouldn’t think that I looked sick. The goal was to catch the King’s eye tonight.
When I had finally reached the top of the stairs that would lead down to the ballroom, further inside the lively chamber, a man dressed elegantly smiled widely and extended his hand towards me. I could only hope he wouldn’t pay enough attention to notice the nervousness on my face as I handed the envelope to him, watching as he delicately opened it. Inside it, there was a letter addressed to a respective Bae Joohyun, who happened to be fourth cousins with the King and the Prince. I found the idea crazy, to come to such an event under the pretence of being someone else and someone so close to the Royal family, but Prince San had assured me that they hadn’t seen their little cousin since they were five, and so, the King wouldn’t know what she looked like now. The pretence was perfect in the Prince’s head as he said my looks fit exactly that of their cousin: pale, petite, black haired, and dark eyed. Apparently, she was beautiful beyond comprehension, and I oozed a tenderness their cousin also had. I didn’t dare refute the Prince’s claims and just thanked him for helping me out once again. After all, if he wanted my mission to be a success, he had to play his part from the shadows.
“Miss Bae Joohyun, first of her name, eldest princess and head huntress of the burgh of La Rouge.” The man announced loudly to the ballroom as he read off my fake title from the invitation, and I tried to keep an amicable smile on my lips as a servant quickly rushed to my side, helping me down the marble set of stairs. It felt like everyone was staring at me in the room, which they were, and I tried to slow my heartbeat with deeps breaths in order to keep myself from fainting. I couldn’t even blame it on the restricting dress as I didn’t wear a corset, unlike many of the ladies present here tonight. It made me feel out of place, but trusting Prince San’s words, the actual Bae Joohyun wouldn’t have shown up in a restricting and puffed-up dress. She was a free spirit and often times went against the rules in order to live her life the way she wanted. Her parents weren’t too keen of her attitude and the choices she had made so far in her life, but they’d rather keep her close and not her younger sister, who apparently was a rascal and everyone’s nightmare in the burgh of La Rouge. The burgh resided on the other side of the Kingdom of the Fallen and was a lot more lenient compared to Aurora, that is, until King Jeong manages to expand his believes that far out, poisoning the innocent people of La Rouge, like he had done to us in Aurora.
And just like that, the night seemed to go on uneventfully, besides the unwanted attention men, and women alike, seemed to offer me. I wasn’t looking for anyone’s company, but I knew if I kept to myself, hidden in a corner, I would get nothing done tonight, and I couldn’t let that happen. I had to raise attention onto myself if I wanted the King to find me appealing, and that was only achievable if I was surrounded by men who made me laugh loudly, even if it was forced often times. I had managed to come closer to the King more than once, but so it seemed he was too busy staring down the cleavage of the dress of whatever lady he had been talking to at the moment, clearly uninterested in whatever they had to say. His loyal dogs were around too, of course, both dressed to the nines as they surveyed the crowd, mingling with the people at times. Song Mingi remained close to the King, however, but wasn’t breathing down his neck like usual, his outfit a lot more casual than one was used to seeing him wear. His body was littered with accessories, and I accidentally had caught sight of the redhead ripping the silver chain off as it hung around the man’s narrow waist over the tight vest Song Mingi was wearing. A heated exchange between the two seemed to happen afterwards, with the taller guard backing the redhead against a pillar, sneering into her face, until the King showed up and merely tapped the two on the shoulder before walking away, beaming at a blonde woman with a dark look in his eyes.
The longer I watched the King, the angrier I became that nobody could see through his obvious façade, of the fakeness in his laughter and smiles, that they couldn’t see his eyes darkening and a sick twist crossing his features any time someone said something he didn’t enjoy. Everyone remained oblivious to his so obvious show of dominance whenever a man managed to capture the attention of those around themselves. It was pathetic really, how badly the King needed to have all the attention in the big room on himself, yearning for the praises and ass-licking these rich people were doing. It was sickening and so infuriating as I watched him throw his head back in delight, laughter melodic but loud enough to have others glancing his way, flocking towards the small group, because it was the King. And if the King found something hilarious and worth his time, everyone else wanted to know what it was about, striving to capture his attention like that. My jaw was clenched as I watched another woman wander towards him, looking abashed when the King so much as glanced her way in passing, batting her eyelashes at him. I couldn’t even fathom the thought of wanting the King’s attention purposefully, not when so much blood lay on his hands, so much terror and horror committed under his reign, under his command.
I nursed a tall glass of champagne in my hands as I surveyed the crowd, searching for Song Mingi and the redhead, finding them in different parts of the ballroom, both seemingly busy with the people they were respectively talking to. The King, however, happened to be closer to me as he was talking to two gentlemen, face impassive as he only hummed and nodded at whatever they were saying. For a second, he glanced ahead, and our eyes connected. My breath hitched and I fought every fibre in my body wanting to look away, knowing that the King liked a good chase and a little provocation. If I looked away, I would admit defeat, and he didn’t like women who weren’t a little fiery, harder to break. The thought made me sick but I quickly disregarded it and hid my fake smile as I took the smallest sip I could of my champagne, knowing that my plan was working as the King’s eyes bore into mine, narrowing. It wasn’t the first time our eyes accidentally met during the night, and I was completely convinced that his curiosity was growing the more I seemed to be teasing him. Always around, yet never approaching him. Always around, yet never actively asking for his attention. I could see his fierce eyes on me every time I laughed a little too loudly, or anytime I playfully touched a gentleman’s bicep for a second too long. The King might’ve thought I wasn’t looking, but I was. And my plan was working just perfectly. The mission would finally turn out to be a success tonight.
“Miss Bae,” My attention was ripped away from the King as a moderately tall man stopped in front of me, lips heart shaped, and kind eyes sharper rather than rounder. The man’s voice was rather deep, yet soft, and he looked almost a little shy, “I did not know you would be attending tonight’s ball.”
I plastered on a soft smile and tried to act like I knew the man in front of me. Prince San didn’t really tell me who I was supposed to know tonight, and so I had to be creative when catching other people’s names, “It came as a surprise to me as well.”
The man chuckled as he covered his mouth with a soft looking hand, eyes glinting in amusement. He didn’t look like he had dubious reasons for talking to me, unlike many other men so far tonight, and his eyes had not even once fallen onto my cleavage, “Did your father send you in hopes of finding a suitor?”
“Perhaps that was the reason,” I mussed as I took a sip of my champagne, aware of the King’s eyes on me as I continued talking to the kind man, “it seems like he won’t accept the fact that I do not wish to marry.”
“Perhaps you haven’t met the right man yet.” Ah, the likeableness of this man just plummeted as my eyebrows furrowed, and he seemed alarmed as he realized what he had said, “Oh! I was not suggesting that you should marry or anything else, Miss Bae! It is completely alright to not want to marry, I do not wish to marry either.”
“Lovely,” I hummed, not interested in the conversation anymore. The King was moving away and I had to remain close to him, “I didn’t catch your name, sir.”
“Do Kyungsoo, Miss Bae, I see the passing of the years made you forget about me.” I gulped, nervous all of a sudden as Mr. Do chuckled. I had no idea who he was, but I was sure the real Bae Joohyun would know. So, I chuckled abashed, looking down in fake embarrassment.
“My apologies, I haven’t been to Aurora in so long…” Mr. Do nodded in understanding, downing the rest of his champagne in one go.
“Then I must leave you alone to mingle some more, right?” He sounded slightly disappointed, and I couldn’t help but think that the bond between Miss Bae and Mr. Do once had ran deeper than it seemed. I cleared my throat and excused myself with a bow of my head, looking for the King. The crowd was large and as the music had gotten louder, a dance floor had formed in the middle of the big room. Everyone was loud as more champagne and expensive wine was consumed, both men and women getting bolder and handsy with each other. I tried not to see the disappearing couples behind pillars and curtains as I walked past them, quiet moans or groans alarming to hear. I was no prude, but doing anything like that just felt wrong in a place like this. Besides, I wouldn’t have dared doing anything relatively inadequate in the house of the King, under his watchful eyes.
“Miss Bae.” I jumped as the velvety voice whispered in my ear, almost making me punch their gut as I whirled around, “You’ve been alone ever since I have left your side.”
Mr. Byun wasn’t exactly the man I wished to be around right now; eyes hazed over as his breath reeked of alcohol. He had set his eyes on me the second the servant had announced my name and title, lurking around me after presenting himself and talking to me.
“You are quite wrong,” I chuckled, trying not to glare at him as he reached out a hand and twirled a dark strand of my hair between his fingers, “I have been talking to others too, Mr. Byun.”
“None as promising and handsome as myself, right?” The man smirked, overly sure of himself, making my jaw clench as I forced a chuckle to leave my lips. All this unwanted attention certainly hadn’t been part of my plan, I thought nobody would give me even as much as a second glance, busy with others, with people they already knew. All these men were making this experience even less pleasant, as if being in the lion’s den was pleasant in the first place.
“What a confident man,” I smiled widely, placing my empty glass on a tray as a servant walked by us, “I bet the ladies love being around you, Mr. Byun.”
“Hopefully you are one of those ladies yourself, Miss Bae.” Mr. Byun winked and suddenly bowed, extending a hand towards me, “Would you offer me your first dance of the night, love?”
No, I would not like to offer you my first dance of the night, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t refuse a dance, whether I liked the idea or not. I had started thinking that my plan had been flawed from the very beginning and that I wouldn’t succeed in fulfilling my mission, that is, until I felt a gloved hand sneaking around my waist, firmly yanking me into the side of a body. My eyes widened as I gasped at the sudden feeling, head snapping up, dread filling my whole being. The King was glaring down at Mr. Byun as his hold tightened around my waist, and I almost flung myself out of his grip, skin burning through the fabric where the King had touched me. Despite my goal being exactly this, to find myself in the arms of the King, it felt wrong. Very wrong. I wanted nothing more than to run away, but I steeled my nerves and hushed the thoughts that were screaming to run far away from the tyrant, and managed to ease a soft smile on my lips.
“Mr. Byun,” The King grinned, however it didn’t reach his dark eyes, “already drunk and close to passing out? It’s been only two hours since the ball started, you fool.”
Mr. Byun’s jaw clenched, but he had no choice but to bow his head in respect, “My apologies, Your Grace, I might have gotten carried away.”
“Most certainly if you thought you could dance with such beautiful maiden.” It was my turn to clench my jaw at the King’s insinuation, but I willed my heartrate to calm down and muscles to relax as the King’s dark gaze was directed onto me now, “Shall we dance, gorgeous?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” I bowed my head and forced a timid smile onto my lips as the King’s ring, claw, decorated hand found my waist too, grip firm as he veered me in front of himself and made us walk towards the dance floor. My back straightened as I tried to calm down and not tense up when the King’s hands squeezed my waist just a little bit more, narrowly avoiding a couple as they were dancing around a little too wildly for the King’s liking as he leered at them. I closed my eyes when I felt ourselves stop in the middle of the dance floor, and took a deep breath. I could do this, for the future of the Fallen of the Kingdom, for our nation, and for Prince Choi San. I could do this, and I would do this.
When I blinked my eyes open, the King was stood in front of me, a dangerous smirk on his plush red lips, staring down with hunger in his eyes as they racked down my body. I gulped and gasped when I was forcefully yanked against his broad and strong body, ring decorated hand curling into my hips as his gloved hand took mine in his, holding it a lot gentler than I expected him to. As I looked up, making eye contact with the King, he took a step forward, slowly easing us into a waltz that matched the pace of the orchestra and of those dancing around us too.
The King wore fine garments, moulded for his body, almost like a second layer for his venomous skin. His black trousers with fine white stripes clung to his long legs perfectly, enunciating his proportions even more as they were tucked into shiny tall boots that reached just bellow the King’s knees. The brown belt was hidden by the black vest clinging onto his upper body, the same fabric of his trousers seemingly sewn together with the vest’s fabric on his left shoulder and the lower right side of it. However, the back of the vest was completely different, a white fabric with black swirls on it. A black necktie was tucked underneath the King’s vest, a fine necklace with beads and a silver cross sitting on top of it, with a matching rosary hanging on top of his vest and necktie altogether. There was nothing holy about the King, it was a mere display of mockery in the Lord’s name that even such dark creature could wear and touch something so holy. The white shirt’s right sleeve was rolled up to the King’s elbows, bracelets that matched his rosary hanging snugly against his thin wrist, his metal rings, claws, eye-catching and on display for everyone to see. The left sleeve of his white shirt was tucked underneath his black leather gloves, crunching quietly as the King’s fingers tightened around mine. I tried to remain calm as the prolonged eye contact put me on edge, and I fought to stay confident and repress all the nightmarish memories of the King.
“It’s been a while, cousin.” I couldn’t completely read the expression on the King’s face, and so I only gulped. Words seemed to have escaped me, and it only made my stomach clench more when the King’s eyes fell onto my cleavage again, all too aware of how exposed I was. But it was on purpose, Prince San knew the King’s vices, and he was using it to our advantage when he had gifted this dress to me, “I don’t remember you being this quiet, Joohyun, dear.”
I gulped and scoffed, irritation not so fake anymore, “People change, Your Grace, and I have too.”
“Did your daddy tell you to behave well tonight?” His question didn’t sit well with me, especially the tone he had said it with, but I just ignored it as I rolled my eyes at the King, “Did he think you’d be rewarded for it?”
My face flushed at the implication, and it took me everything to not rip myself away from the King right then and there as I felt the sharp ends of his ornaments dig into my skin through the thin fabric of my white dress, “I’m not looking for anything, Yunho, I’m merely here to socialize, see what my cousin is up to lately.”
“I’m doing just fine, dear, as you can see.” The King chuckled, and I felt him pulling me flushed against himself, making my heartbeat quicken as I had to crane my neck to look up at him, “The Kingdom is flourishing and Aurora is doing better than it had been under King Choi’s regiment.”
“You’ve certainly brought some changes to it, Your Grace.” I couldn’t contain the snarl in my tone as I averted my eyes, staring at the rosary instead while the King just chuckled. There was nothing hilarious about what I had said, but of course, it would’ve been alarming if the King thought the way he ruled wasn’t right, “Do you plan on ruining the Kingdom of the Fallen even more?”
The King’s eyes hardened as I looked back up in his eyes, jaw clenching as I felt his right hand slowly slip lower, pressing flat against the small of my back. The action made goosebumps erupt on my skin, and I tried not to shudder as the King merely smirked, no doubt noticing my reaction to his undesired touch.
“I see your passion for the wellbeing of my Kingdom hasn’t changed, dear Joohyun.” The King smiled, but it was far from genuine, he looked irritated, “Why don’t you become Queen and mould it to your own likes?”
“Is that what you are doing right now?” I cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, “Playing with your people as if you were playing chess? What’s next, a war against the Kingdom of Light? You know their Queen can’t wait to destroy you, Yunho.”
“How saddening she’ll never get the chance to do so.” The glint in the King’s eyes was scary, they held a secret so dark I probably didn’t want to know, but I was curious. He was planning something, something dangerous and big, and I needed to find out what. But that would take time, and if I managed to kill him tonight, that dark secret of his would die with him.
“Indeed,” I chuckled and tried to ignore the way the King’s hand slipped further down, fingers barely brushing against my ass. Why was he doing this? He surely could’ve found other ladies that weren’t related to him, since he was under the impression that I was his cousin, even if not a close relative, still blood-related to him, “I see your goons never leave your side, Your Grace.”
The King’s head fell backwards as he laughed, chest shaking with the motion, the first genuine reaction I had ever seen on him. It stunned me, but I tried not to gape. I glanced to the side, unsurprised as I found Song Mingi staring daggers our way, twirling a knife in his hands. The redhead was dancing, but her eyes were solely fixed on the King as well, probably deaf to whatever the man holding her was saying to her.
“My goons, are my most loyal guards, dear, of course they never leave my side.” The King finally seemed to get over my words as he had stopped laughing and was instead grinning, glancing to the side like I had done so. His eyes softened for a second as they fell on Song Mingi, and then his cold exterior was back on as his eyes fell down on me, “It’s their duty, after all.”
“It looks like a little bit more than just duty, Your Grace.” I smirked, heart stilling when I felt the King unashamedly squeeze my ass. I jumped and tried not to sputter as he flushed me fully against himself, a sickening smirk pulling at his lips.
“Perhaps it is more than just duty.” The King whispered, winking as he lowered his head just a little bit, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. I tensed, eyes wide as I continued staring at him slightly frightened, “You smell like fresh roses, so sweet.”
I tried not to show how disgusted I felt, and instead chuckled lightly, “Thank you, Your Grace. Tell me a little secret…do your loyal dogs follow you everywhere?”
The King quirked an eyebrow, prompting me to continue as his clawed fingers pressed a little harsher into my clothed ass, “Or do your guards offer you privacy when times call for desperate measures?”
The King chuckled, leaning down so that he’d be able to whisper in my ear. I tried to remain relaxed as his hot lips brushed against my ear, tone low and words dripping with allure, “They know when not to follow, dear, would you like to see for yourself?”
As the King pulled back, bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes dropped to my cleavage again, I knew this was it. I wouldn’t get a better chance where the King and I were alone, “Since you offered so nicely, My King.”
The King’s eyes darkened significantly as he released his bottom lip and licked his lips, nodding once. Before I could change my mind about what I had agreed to and flee, the King took a step back and released my body, however still kept a firm grip on our intertwined fingers, our gloves a clash of colours against each other. The crowd seemed to part as the King walked through it, curious eyes watching closely as I followed after the King, struggling to keep up with his long strides, but he wouldn’t slow down for me. I gripped the skirt of my dress and raised it above my ankles in order to not trip, paying close attention to my surroundings for when I needed to escape. It wouldn’t be easy as we were on the third floor and all windows seemed to be locked in the long corridor, and I could only hope I would find a hidden door that would lead through a passageway, helping me escape once I had killed the King.
I didn’t expect us to stop so soon, and so I ran into the back of the King, making him chuckle. He wordlessly pushed the door open for us, and allowed me to walk in first, releasing my hand. I took a deep breath before I stepped through the threshold and tried not to gape at the size of the library I had just stepped foot inside. The walls were covered in nothing but endless shelves of books upon books, a room that had two floors, ladders pressed up against the tall bookshelves for when you needed something from a higher shelf. The room was beautiful, and something vexing like jealousy plunged deep in my gut, jealousy that the King had all of this beauty at his feet while others had to suffer out in the cold streets, begging for a shilling as nobody had much money to pay up. But before I could marvel at the beauty of the library even more, I felt myself yanked backwards. The wind was knocked out of my lungs as my back collided against the sturdy bookshelves, and I panicked thinking that my identity had been discovered, that the King finally had enough of me. I was ready to fight him, grab my hidden dagger and stab him in the heart, fight and flee afterwards, but what I didn’t expecting was to feel his blood-red lips pressing against mine. I froze, eyes wide in awestruck as the King’s lips were warmer than I thought they would be, and really soft. It was a crime that somebody like him had lips like that. Out of distress, I grabbed his biceps and went to push the King away, but I realized that would be a mistake. How else could I distract him if not like this? He’d have his guard down, offering me the perfect chance to stab him. And so, I swallowed the disgust bubbling up my throat and forced my eyes to close as my fingers dug into the King’s skin through the soft fabric of his white shirt.
His right hand grabbed my jaw to tilt my head up, making it easier for him to continue leaning down to kiss me, his rings not quite digging into my skin, but dangerously close to doing so. My heart was racing as the King’s lips started moving against mine, not soft at all, not careful nor patient as I forced myself to reciprocate it. It was hard, every fibre in my body was screaming at me to stop this, that I could distract him somehow else, but a more logical side of me knew that I just couldn’t. I was doing this for Aurora, for the Kingdom of the Fallen, and so I relaxed against the King’s strong body and forced my thoughts to silence. My arms raised and I wrapped them around the King’s shoulders, pressing up on my tip toes to kiss him better, opening my mouth for his lips to fit better against mine. The King didn’t waste time as his tongue slipped past my lips and lapped at my mouth furiously, a moan slipping past my lips as I fisted the black strands of hair sitting neatly on his nape. The King seemed to enjoy that as his claws suddenly dug into my skin, making me whine as his tongue brushed against mine, licking at it in a way I didn’t know was possible, my knees weakening involuntarily as the King’s body pinned me against the bookshelf, immobilising me, caging me between himself and the bookshelves. It was a little scary, but I didn’t dwell on it as the King sucked on my tongue, completely dirty and nothing like I have experienced before, my cheeks flaring as I felt his gloved hand settle at the base of my throat. My heart picked up thinking that he would try and choke me, rob me of my already waning air, but instead, it slowly slipped towards my breasts, cupping my right one harshly. I moaned and chased after his mouth as he pulled slightly back, slotting my upper lip between his, suckling on his bottom one as the King started massaging my breast through the thin fabric of my dress, groaning loudly into my mouth.
It was starting to get hot around me, our actions affecting my body in ways it long hadn’t been affected like, the touches of the King igniting a dormant fire deep in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t fair that he could elicit such a reaction out of me, not when I bore nothing but hatred towards him. It wasn’t fair that I had to go out of my way to do something I didn’t wish to do in order to get rid of the tyrant, and it only fuelled the fire in my veins as I latched onto the King’s lips furiously, setting a pace that was bruising to our already swollen lips. Low groans slipped past the King’s lips as our noses kept knocking against each other, his right hand leaving my face as it went behind my body, grasping my ass painfully. I gasped and tried not to recoil when the King suddenly licked at my bottom lip, humming lowly in the back of his throat as he flushed our lower bodies together, rutting into me. My heart was hammering against my ribcage and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I refused to open my eyes, scared that I would run away if we made eye contact. The King groaned as he massaged my flesh through my dress, and the hand still squeezing my breast finally disappeared and grabbed onto the other cheek of my ass before it slowly slipped back onto my lower back, fisting my dress. My chest was rising and falling quickly, and I tried to regulate my breaths and clear my mind, assess the situation in order to be able to proceed. But suddenly, I felt cold metal pressing into my skin, grabbing my jaw firmly.
“Open your eyes, little dove.” My heart did a somersault and I froze, thoughts running a million per hour, panicking. Had he finally realized who I really was? I felt teeth sinking into my bottom lip painfully and I whined as my eyes snapped open, freezing as the King’s dark eyes were right in front of mine. His neck, ears, and cheeks were flushed red, lips swollen and glistening with saliva. His pupils were dilated and he smirked as he massaged the small of my back, suddenly his thumb swiping across my lower lip. I couldn’t look away, it felt like he had bewitched me, locked me into place as I struggled to fill my lungs to the brim with air. I was scared, waiting for the predator’s next move, trying to anticipate what he’d do next. But I certainly didn’t think he’d slip the sharp metal ring inside my mouth, forefinger pressing against my tongue, “Suck.”
I gulped and maintained eye contact with the King as I licked his finger, trying to ignore the animalistic look on his face as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked on his ornament decorated finger slowly, swirling my tongue around it. The King leaned closer, lips hovering dangerously close to mine, brushing against his own knuckles. The King was panting hard as he slipped his middle finger too inside my mouth, and I tried to remain calm as I became aware of the ache in my right hand, the mark he had given me three years ago suddenly burning as if it were freshly made. I wouldn’t be able to handle this for much longer, gut twisting in sickness, yet my body was pressing harder against the King’s, aware of the neediness that had suddenly overcome it. I pushed my tongue between the King’s two fingers and sucked on them, making the King’s jaw clench until he suddenly pulled them out of my mouth, making saliva drip down my chin. I was embarrassed and my cheeks burned as he grabbed my left thigh, lifting it up and around his hips, pressing his body into mine, the hardness all too obvious in his trousers as he rubbed himself against me. My breath hitched in my throat at the friction, the King’s eyes glossed over as he released my thigh once he was sure I’d keep it there. My fingers tangled tighter into his locks as he allowed his metal decorated fingers to travel up my exposed thigh due to the slit in the skirt, only stopping when it reached my clothed core. I tried to stop the whimper from escaping my lips as I bit down on my bottom one, completely at the King’s mercy as he started rubbing small circles against my clothed clit, embarrassed of how reactive I was to his ministrations. I was aching, clenching around nothing, but I forced myself to stay level-headed as I fisted the collar of the King’s shirt and yanked him down, pressing our lips together once more, forcefully. I locked his hips against mine with my left leg and rolled my hip against the King’s hand, whining as he kept the slow, antagonizing, pace. I made sure he was busy with working me further up as I slowly slipped my left hand out of his hair, down his shoulders, stopping at his narrow waist to squeeze before I carefully removed it from his body, leaning a little forward and into the King in order to reach the top of my white boot.
My dagger was hidden just inside of it, the cold blade pressing against my shin all night long, waiting for this exact moment. I could feel the triumph in my bloodstream as I gripped the handle of the blade, moaning as the King cupped my clothed core, but stopped his ministrations altogether. I didn’t stop kissing him, however, as I raised my dagger high, ready to plunge it deep into the King’s back. But before I could even as much as move my arm, suddenly, my head was slammed to the side, making me hiss loudly at the dull ache in my jaw as it crashed into the bookshelf painfully, my left arm pinned to the bookshelf above myself. I froze, blood turning ice cold as I was afraid to even as much as breathe despite my lungs heaving for air. The King’s nose suddenly was pressing into my left cheek, his sweaty forehead resting against my temple as his breathing was loud and shallow. I didn’t dare move, frozen to the spot. I had been discovered, and now I would die. I would fail Prince San and bring shame to my name. I was nothing but a failure, soon about to meet my brother in Eden.
“Bae Joohyun, you say,” The King chuckled, sounding actually amused, “I didn’t know my own cousin hated me so much she wanted to kill me herself?”
I took quiet breaths, but didn’t speak up. It seemed like the King still had something to say, I didn’t dare interrupt his monologue, “I didn’t think your unrelenting support could turn into hatred in two weeks, cousin.”
Ah, so this is where Prince San had made a mistake. Bae Joohyun and Jeong Yunho had been in contact all this time, and apparently, she was on his side. Prince San should’ve known better, but so should have I. I should’ve trusted my gut feeling this time, and I didn’t, and now I would suffer the consequences. Because darkness always prevailed, no matter how much the good and kind fought for its disappearance.
“People change.” I managed to mutter, right side of my face digging painfully into the shelf. I wasn’t panting anymore, but my frantic heartbeat made it hard to actually breathe, and so I was still struggling to calm down.
“Not you, little dove.” The King whispered, and suddenly I felt lips pressing against my ear, making me jerk. The King was frighteningly strong, and I finally started pushing against him, trying to free myself, but it was futile…as always, “Stop fighting against me, you’ll only make it worse for yourself.”
“Burn in hell, Jeong Yunho.” I hissed, trying to look at him from the corner of my eyes. The King chuckled, trailing kisses from my temple down to my jaw. I tried to push him off again, but it did nothing.
“Still trying to curse me,” The King muttered, nuzzling his nose against my cheek again, “I suppose you didn’t change, my little dove. Did you think I’d forget? Was it worth that apple?”
My eyes widened to the point of falling out as the King suddenly released me, my head snapping forward as my heartbeat stilled. I went to throw a punch at his jaw, but he completely took me off guard as he grabbed my right thigh too and hiked me up, pressing me into the bookshelf again as he pinned my wrists above my head, the dagger clattering to the floor from my grip. Out of reflex, my legs wrapped around his hips tighter, knowing that I would slip down despite the force the King was pinning me down with.
“You killed my brother.” Was all I managed to whisper, eyes filling with tears. The King shushed me and leaned his head close, his soft features scary all of a sudden as his blank mask slipped back on.
“You killed your brother by stealing that apple and getting caught for it.” The King whispered, eyebrows furrowing, “If you wouldn’t have put up such a fight, I wouldn’t have thrown you in the dungeon, in fact, I would’ve allowed you to take the leftovers from the kitchen for your brother—”
“Screw you!” I screamed, fury lacing every part of my being, heart hammering in my ribcage, “Curse you! Burn in hell for everything you’ve done! You dare mock me to my face about my brother?! I promise you I will make sure you don’t see tomorrow’s sunrise!”
“Bold words coming from such a frail dove like yourself,” The King mocked, pouting as my body started trembling, “I could behead you right in the middle of the ballroom, my little dove.”
I didn’t care anymore what he did to me. He could kill me right here or right in front of an audience, I didn’t care anymore as long as I was free of this miserable life.
“Do it.” I gritted through my teeth, leaning into his face, lips ghosting against his, “Do it, you fucking coward. You could’ve easily killed me in the alleyway that night or in the square, even now, yet all you do is run your mouth with empty threats.”
I knew they weren’t empty threats, that the King would actually kill me in the following minutes, but I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. I have seen all grey colours of his, I knew who he was, what he was capable of.
“If I had killed you, where would be the fun in that?” The King raised his eyebrows, pressing a light kiss against my lips, making me jerk my head back, “You think I don’t know my brother and his pathetic of excuse of a guard sent you to kill me? Little dove, if they wanted me dead so bad, why didn’t they come after me? Why did they send you?”
I froze, eyebrows furrowing as the King continued with a small amused smile, “They sent a poor girl that is desperate to avenge her brother’s death, a girl that is so weak she can’t even free herself right now, yet all I’m doing is pin you against a bookshelf, little dove. My brother, Prince San, and his pest, Jung Wooyoung, merely sent a weak and poor girl to kill a King that holds twice the strength she does just because they wanted to use you, because they knew you hated me strong enough to actually do what they asked of you. They knew you had nothing to lose anymore, and they know you do not care for your safety or life anymore, my little dove.”
I was stunned listening to the King’s words, slowly shaking my head no, refusing to accept such words. No, that is not why Prince San and Sir Jung had chosen me to eliminate the King, it couldn’t be. That’s not who those two were, and I would’ve been a fool if I succumbed to the King’s words, letting his poisonous words infect my brain with lies.
“No, you’re wrong, My King,” I whispered, eyes boring into his with such hatred that it ricochetted off my whole being, “Prince Choi and Sir Jung aren’t like you. And if I’m just a means to an end in their grand plan, I do not care as long as they manage to rid the Kingdom and this world of you, Jeong Yunho.”
The King hissed, obviously displeased by my retaliation, by my fervorous belief in the Prince and his Royal Guard, “I see you refuse to see the truth just yet, my little dove, so let me give you two options.”
My eyebrows furrowed as the King leaned so close his breath fanned over my face, dark and piercing eyes boring into mine, his cheeks still tinged red, “The very obvious first option is death, but I don’t feel like getting rid of you just yet, my little dove, therefore, I have a second option for you.”
He paused, a sick smirk twisting his lips to the side, making my stomach drop in dread, “You become my good little obedient spy, my ears and eyes in Aurora, and in return, I shall reward you with immunity.”
“No—” I was shaking my head before he could even finish what he was saying, but the King’s sneering face quickly made me shut up.
“I wasn’t finished talking, Y/N.” My breath hitched, he even knew my name, “You will go back this instant to the pathetic mansion those two idiots are hiding in, and tell them, that if they even as much as dare to think to send someone to assassinate me again, I will dismember Jung Wooyoung in front of Choi San after I dissect their whore of a maid, leaving my dear brother for last, publicly executing him in the square, calling all of the Kingdom of the Fallen together to witness the fall of the Crown Prince. Understood?”
My lips quivered as my eyes filled with tears, my voice merely above a whisper, “No, Your Grace, I won’t—”
“I’m not giving you an option, my little dove,” The King suddenly released my arms, which fell limply next to my body as the King cupped my left cheek with his sharp metal rings, “I’m giving you an order that you will execute.”
I tried to blink the tears away, recoiling when one slipped down my cheek and the King kissed it away, “And once you have delivered my message, I expect you back at the Castle, my little dove.”
My breath stuttered in my throat, wide eyes looking into the King’s dark ones. Suddenly, he bucked his hips and I gasped as I realised he was still as hard as mere minutes ago, making my heart race, “Because little doves like you deserve a reward, and you’ve been awfully pliant tonight, so I will fuck you senseless and teach you a lesson afterwards.”
My blood froze, the colour leaving my face as the King snickered, pressing a soft kiss against the bridge of my nose as he suddenly stepped back, gently placing me back down against the floor. I felt abused, thrown around and mauled, skin burning everywhere the King had touched. I was disgusted, and yet I knew I had no choice but to do as I was told. I belonged to him, and even if I ran, he would find me. I gulped as the King’s gloved fingers danced up my gloved arm, slowly slipping the silky fabric down my hand, making me shiver. I clenched my jaw and refused to look down as the King raised my hand, staring at the damaged skin in awe. His lips were parted and he took a deep breath, slowly leaning down and kissing the maimed skin he had caused with his own hands three years ago. I closed my eyes shut tightly, trying to fight the tears that threatened to escape.
“So beautiful,” The King whispered, hot lips brushing feather-light against the skin of my right hand, “Mine, little dove, you’re all mine. You always have been.”
I gulped as I looked at the King, jaw clenching as I yanked my hand out of his and quickly wore my glove, hiding the atrocious scar that he had caused. The King seemed to be in a trance as he stared at me, making my heartbeat quicken even more when he didn’t say anything.
I needed to leave, I felt like I was suffocating.
“My Mingi will meet you in the back gardens, my little dove, ready with a horse.” My blood ran cold, hands turning into fists as the King turned away from me, walking towards the massive oak desk he had in the middle of the library, “I expect you back in an hour, my little dove, and if you don’t come back, I will burn down everything in my way to find you. Understood?”
I grit my teeth, staring daggers into the back of his head, “Understood, Your Grace.”
And if finding a different way to kill the King would be the cause of my last breath, I would still do it. This wasn’t the end, he hadn’t won yet, because I would always remain on Prince Choi and Sir Jung’s side, always. In fact, the King had made is easier for us to find out all of his weak points, easier to stab him in the back when he least expects it.
If I had to dedicate my whole life to bring down such evil, I would do it over and over again, because in the end, goodness always wins.
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Having them as best friend's:
Multiple X Reader
Contains: Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Charlie, Lucifer, Vox, Velvette, Rosie, Adam, Lute, and Valentino
ALASTOR
You're gonna have to hear me out with this one: he's down for the gossip 24/7!!!
He will listen and talk shit with you 100% and I'm not arguing on the matter.
Someone says some wack ass shit to you in public? "I beg your fucking pardon?" With like the scariest grin that fucker can muster.
You start talking to someone? He interrogates them! If they're not strong enough to survive one little interrogation with THE Radio Demon, they're not good enough to date you. Sorry not sorry.
The friendship would be violent, but in almost a sibling type relationship. If he said something absolutely out of line, you'd smack him or kick him in the back of his knees. He'd always get payback, whether it was immediately or a few days/weeks later.
You called him a 'radio faced cunt' once in front of everyone and they all mentally started planning your funeral.
Until he clapped back with something equally as interesting.
He only accepted affection from you and Rosie. And Charlie that one time.
If you had a bad day, he'd know immediately by the look on your face and wouldn't let anyone talk to you until he knew exactly what had made one of his two favorite people upset.
He'd kill them if you told him to. Just supportive bestie shit!
Angel Dust
Let's be real, if you're best friends with Angel, you're probably equally as close with Cherri.
But just you and Angel Dust as best friend's? Shit, he's awesome.
Had a bad day? Go to his room and cuddle Fat Nuggets while you cry/rant about the days woes.
Spontaneous sleepovers BECAUSE YOU CAN!
Platonically flirting to the point that everyone thinks you're together. Neither of you deny the claims, just to keep everyone on their toes.
The words 'love you' followed by something like 'slut' or 'bitch' are common occurrences.
When it comes to dating, Angel just wants you to be happy.
But if someone breaks your heart? He'll come out with guns blazing with no hesitation. NO ONE hurts his bestie.
Platonic cuddles because you love his floof.
Would probably form some sort of marriage pact with you for fun one night when you're both wasted. "Yeah, I'd marry you if we're both still single in 100 years, Toots."
Husk
The banter would be unmatched. You call him a furry and he'll clap back with something that makes your jaw drop before you burst out into laughter.
He'd tell you how it is, regardless of whether you asked or not.
Sure, you're his best friend, and he cares about you. . . But it's because he cares about you that he won't sugarcoat something, even if it's not something you wanna hear.
He would listen to your problems, like any good friend.
He wouldn't trust anyone you had romantic interest in, especially since the ones you always went for had some serious issues.
He'd say something like: "Don't cry to me when that bastard breaks your heart."
And you wouldn't cry to him when it happened, but he'd make you a drink and silently take care of the problem once he had one of the other hotel residents hoist you up to your room.
The next morning you'd tell him he was right and he'd smirk as he wiped down the bar, but wouldn't say anything.
He was never good with affection, so he respects your space and you respect his.
He literally always has your back, even if you don't know it. You do.
Charlie
Honestly, you probably grew up together and that's how the two of you became best friends. (But even if you didn't, everything is still the same.)
She's the friend that's too trusting of everyone, so you easily filled the place of being the friend that questioned everyone's intentions.
You even heavily questioned Vaggie's intentions when Charlie insisted on bringing her around after finding her.
You only warmed up to Vaggie when Charlie admitted her feeling for her, to you one late evening. She was a nervous wreck, but you were always the level-headed friend.
Being best friends with the princess of Hell had some lesser known perks — invitations to high class parties, special access at LuLu World, and the most eventful sleepovers known to Hell.
Whenever you mentioned interest in someone, Charlie was the first to push you to go for it.
If it went wrong, she was always there first, telling you it would be completely fine. If it went good, she was the first to congratulate you.
She's 100% the mom friend. Thirsty? Here's something to drink. Cut your finger? "Here's a bandaid, be more careful."
A relationship similar to siblings, bit without any malice or envy. Just happy to be in each other's presence.
She literally documented everything the two of you did, since the very first time you called her your friend. She's not going anywhere.
Lucifer
Yeah, so, everyone thinks you're dating. Even Charlie is a bit suspicious. You're not, but you had been there by his side for as long as he could remember.
When Lilith left, you filled some part of the void, not allowing Lucifer to go hungry when he spent long days in his office.
On his good days, he's absolutely there for all the tea, especially if it's PIPING HOT. "That bitch said WHAT!?"
He has no filter and will unintentionally intentionally hurt someone's feelings when it comes to you.
He protects you as fiercely as he protects Charlie, despite knowing that you're capable of protecting yourself.
The two of you argue like an old married couple, which only fueled the dating rumors. . . Until you mentioned someone you had interest in.
Bro interrogated everyone you ever liked. Can't handle five minutes with the king of Hell? Not good enough for his bestie. Keep it movin' pal.
No one is allowed to call you a bitch, but him. Anyone else tries, they'll be met with absolute SASS.
Not even joking, Lucifer would be so sassy towards people, to the point that you picked it up.
So the two of you just went around unintentionally terrorizing demons!
Vox
You hate someone? Bet. He'll have someone spy on them and give you the real tea.
Brings you as the plus one for many major events, but bullies you the entire time. You thought you'd get five minutes of peace on your best friends arm? WRONG!
Literally throws toddler meltdown style temper tantrums when it comes to Alastor. You're usually the one who has to reboot him or just smack some sense into him.
You're both pretty level-headed most of the time, but one of you probably has a couple of screws loose. (It's definitely him.)
No one is good enough to date you. Not sorry.
If anyone looks at you wrong, they've signed their second death to double Hell.
You and Vox talk shit about everyone, especially if you've had a hard day.
If it was bad enough, he'd offer to kill the demon who dared make your day shit. He'd still listen to you though.
"Fuck that. You're not going alone." And then you have to wait 15 minutes for him to look 'good enough' to go out, even if you were powerful and just wanted to go on little walk down the street.
Body doubling. Different tasks, silence, but the comfort of having someone else in the room. Absolutely.
Velvette
She likes you slightly more than Vox and Valentino, which is fabulous.
Weekly designated sleepover nights where the both of you unload from the week.
Someone is rude to you? Cue Vel lecturing them on how they fucked up and their career is over, but make it musical.
You went on a date with someone and didn't tell her? "I want details, Lovey! Are they an overlord too? Tell. Me. Everything."
Prepare for Hell's greatest gossip sessions, especially around the topic of Hell's cutthroat fashion industry.
She might not seem like it, but she's a good listener.
You're leaving the tower to run a small errand? Surprise Surprise, she's coming with you and turning it into a whole day, complete with lunch and shopping!
She uses you as a model sometimes, purely because she can.
Will call you a sweet name and insult you in the same breath.
Gets worried if you don't text back within five minutes. She will literally show up to make sure you're alive. You're probably taking a nap.
Rosie
Literally the best to spend the day with. She loves walking with you or just having tea.
Much like Alastor, she would be down for the gossip, but she wouldn't go very far with it.
In terms of relationships, she'd want you to be happy, but would also threaten to eat your partner if they hurt you.
She'd be such a good listener when you came to talk about your day.
She'd even offer advice and just casually drop something like: "Listen to your intuition, darling. It'll tell you others intentions."
At some point or another, everyone questions whether you're dating or not, which both of you laugh at frequently.
She enjoys her privacy, but she also would love having you around more than others.
She would love giving platonic affection, just to make you feel loved.
Sometimes Alastor pops up and Rosie gushes about how the two of you would get along — and immediately you're just thinking how this trio would be iconic.
She doesn't care about your past, you don't care that she's a Cannibal. . . Well, she cares, but she would NEVER hold it against you!
Adam
He literally goes out of his way to piss you off.
There's a lot of threatening and him calling you stuff like 'Sugar Tits'.
Adam annoys you to the point of you WANTING to just jump to Hell, but you never do, because he's your best friend, and you wouldn't want to emotionally traumatize him by making him think that he lost his best friend to Lucifer, AFTER losing his wives to him.
He says "Suck my dick, Bitch" AT LEAST A DOZEN TIMES A DAY. It irritates you to no end.
The banter is unmatched. He wants to get sassy? You're the SASS MASTER.
You pushed him down the stairs for fun and he didn't talk to you for two days.
He doesn't give a fuck who you date, but if they hurt you, he's taking care of them and not telling you SHIT to avoid all of that mushy feelings crap.
The two of you argue too much for anyone to think you're together.
There's NEVER a moment of silence when you're out. He's always singing, talking, laughing, or mimicking the sound of some instrument.
Lute
She's annoyed 24/7 and you're one of the two main causes.
But she wouldn't replace you because who else would put up with her attitude and listen to her rants like you?
If you had a hard day, she'd probably make some offhand comment and then subtly try to make it better by like getting you ice cream with rainbow sprinkles or something.
She hates physical touch, so the only time she touches you is to smack you, probably for saying something very Adam-ish. "Say that shit again and it'll be worse."
She hates everyone you have romantic interest in, but let's you learn your own lessons the hard way.
Nobody could ever picture the two of you as friends, let alone dating.
She's like the sister that has it all but claims she's the black sheep of the family.
Her job comes before everything else in her life, that including you, but when she has time for you, there's usually food and shit talking involved.
She makes sure you drink water every day. She'd kick your ass if you passed out because of dehydration.
She'd give you the key to her place, but you'd never use it unless she told you to. (Like in the event she forgot her set or something)
(I've reached the 10 media limit, so just imagine a gif right here)
Valentino
He offers you a job almost weekly. You hold off on kicking his ass every single time because that's your best friend.
Derives great pleasure from pissing you off.
You don't agree with the manner he treats his employees, so you undermine him every chance you get, just to make sure they get the best treatment possible.
It pisses him off to no end, but he let's it go. He wouldn't hurt you. He couldn't, not without a whole bunch of backlash from quite literally everyone.
Whenever you start liking someone, he warns you to be careful because he knows the industry. He is the industry.
He's gossip central. Talks super exaggerated with his hands and his voice changes whenever he remembers another detail.
He's a touchy feller, that much is evident. He's always touching you in some way, but it's not sexual/romantic or violent, it's more reassurance for both of you. It's a safe middle ground.
You have to leave for some reason? "The limo will take you, but don't touch anything."
He throws tantrums on the regular and you've learned to just let them go on until he eventually shuts the fuck up and let's you speak.
He'll call you a slut and then ask if you want to get food. It's extremely clear that you're not dating lmao.
A/N: I hope this is okay! I've never written for a bunch of these characters, as I just stared writing Hazbin stuff last week, and even then, it was a small Vox one-shot and a Lucifer one-shot.
Requests are open, if anyone would wanna request something for one of these characters? I'd pull through to the best of my ability.
Part Two
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#angel dust#hazbin hotel husk#charlie morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin rosie#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lute#valentino hazbin hotel#x reader#hazbin hotel imagine
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The Best Summer Ever | Quinn Hughes
Summary: First summer at the lakehouse, and it couldn't be better.
Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Teacher!Fem!Reader
Warnings: None, just some pure sweetness. Part of this universe but can be read on its own!
Wc: 3.6k
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As you lounge in the backyard of the lake house, with a book in hand, working on your tan, and Quinn napping beside you, you surmise that coming to Michigan with Quinn for the summer was one of the best decisions you've ever made.
Quinn lays on his stomach, with his head pillowed in the crook of his arms. He hadn't planned to nap, but the two of you had gone on a run along the waterline this morning, and then Quinn had a training session with the boys. He had conked out, less than ten minutes after he had stretched out beside you.
You glance at the time on your phone, Quinn has been asleep for almost an hour. You bookmark your page, deciding it's time to wake him up, before his lovely golden tan turns into a massive sunburn. You flip onto your stomach and delve your fingers into Quinn's hair, gently working through the tangles.
The humidity was doing wonders for his curls, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't absolutely head over heels for summertime Quinn. The tan, the curls, the way his cheeks always seemed to be flushed from heat, the smile that seemed permanently etched into his face. You drop a kiss to his shoulder, and your other hand traces light patterns along his spine.
Pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his shoulders and upper back, your fingers massage his scalp steadily. He makes a low noise of contentment, and you grin against his sun-kissed skin. "Quinn," you murmur against his skin.
He doesn't respond. You press a kiss to the crook of his neck, and he stirs under you. Another behind his ear. And the underside of his jaw.
His chest rumbled with a soft hum, and he nuzzled his head against the crook of his arm with a sleepy sigh. You giggle and pull out your phone to snap a photo of him. He reminds you of a cat napping in the sun.
"Quintin," you mutter against his skin, he gives you a sleepy grunt, "wake up honey," you say softly, carding your fingers through his hair, "if you don't turn over you're going to get a horrid burn on your back," you coax, tugging ever so gently on his curly locks.
Quinn rolls over with a huff. Suddenly his arms are around you and he's pulling you on top of him. You squeal in surprise as he situates you between his legs comfortably, your forearms resting on either side of his head. He squints one eye open, with a glare. Half because you woke him up and half because the sun was so bright.
"Why'd you wake me up?" He huffs.
You snort, detangling yourself from his arms, "Cause you whine like a bitch when you're sunburnt." His jaw drops, and you grin, kissing him on the cheek sweetly.
"I can't believe you just called me a bitch," he gasps, all traces of sleep disappearing from his body.
"I'm just telling the truth," you shrug, a smile playing on your lips. Quinn sits up, pulling your sunglasses off, you squint your eyes, frowning at the sudden brightness.
You screech in alarm, as Quinn is suddenly grabbing you around the waist, holding you tight to his body and walking towards the dock. "Quinn," you gasp "What are you doing?"
"I think someone needs to cool down her attitude a little," Quinn smirks, his tone like he's scolding a child.
"Quinn," there's slight panic in your tone, "please no, I'm sorry" You flail your legs trying to escape his hold before he tosses you into the lake.
"Sorry baby, I can't hear you over my bitchiness," Quinn snarks, nipping at your ear playfully. You yelp, twisting in his hold.
"I didn't mean it, you aren't a bitch, you're the sweetest man to ever exist, you have never been bitchy in your life! You deserve the world and I love you with all my heart!" You ramble, pressing kisses to his face in hopes that he will have mercy.
Quinn is smiling mischievously, "Gotta do better than that baby," he's standing at the edge of the dock.
"Quintin Jerome Hughes!" You warn, wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, "I swear to God if you-" Before you can finish your threat, Quinn is jumping off the dock with you wrapped around him.
The shock of being plunged into cold water after being in the sun for over an hour is brutal. You resist the urge to scream purely because you're underwater and you don't need a mouth full of water.
As your heads break the surface, you gasp for air. Quinn's grin is infectious and you can't help but grin back. "How's the attitude? Cooled off yet?" He asks smirking.
You unwrap your legs from around his waist, kicking them back and forth underwater to help keep the two of you afloat. Your arms wrap around his neck tugging on his now wet hair, "Think I'm still a bit hot," you smile teasingly, pushing on his shoulders to dunk his head under water.
Quinn gasps for air as he goes down. You cackle as he fails to drag you under with him. He comes up, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes, and lunging after you with a grin. You swim away with screeching laughter. You splash Quinn aggressively in an attempt to save yourself.
Suddenly there’s a loud whooping coming from the dock, along with heavy footsteps. Then Jack is cannonballing into the water. Luke follows after him flipping off the dock in a fancy maneuver that briefly leaves your heart in your throat. As soon as their heads break the surface, they grin mischievously. The four of you lose track of time and end up fooling around in the water for hours, splashing, wrestling, racing, and every other possible game you can think of.
By the time Ellen is calling you out of the water to get ready for dinner like a bunch of children, Jack is sporting a wicked sunburn across his nose and cheeks and you and Luke have probably swallowed half of Lake Erie from the amount that Quinn and Jack have been dunking you under water and splashing you in the face.
You hoist yourself onto the dock and offer Quinn a hand to help pull him up, he takes it with a grin and pulls you back into the water with a cackle. You pout at him, as you move your wet hair out of your eyes. Quinn kisses the pout right off your face, and you can’t help but melt into it, locking your arms around his neck and kissing him back.
“Ewwww!” Luke screeches, as he and Jack begin to splash the two of you all over again.
“Children!” Ellen barks, unable to keep the smile off her face, “Out of the water or you will be late for your dinner plans!”
There is a collective grumbling amongst the four of you, but you exit the water nonetheless. This time, Quinn doesn't pull you back into the water, lest he face the wrath of his mother. Ellen and Jim had plans with a few of their friends while Luke and Jack had been invited to have dinner with a few other NHL guys who lived on the lake. Originally, you and Quinn had been invited too, but Quinn had politely declined in favour of taking you out on a good ol’ classy dinner date at the country club.
As bad as you felt about declining the invite, you were excited to have Quinn to yourself for the evening. The only time you and Quinn got a moment alone for yourselves was usually when you were going to sleep, so you were looking forward to this Dinner date.
Quinn wraps a towel over your shoulders as the four of you head up to the house, Jack and Luke sprinting ahead to fight over who gets to use their shower first. “You shower first?” Quinn mutters against your wet hair.
“We could shower together,” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively “save some water.” Quinn chuckles, pressing another kiss to your hair fondly, “Trust me, baby, if we shower together, we definitely won’t be saving water.”
You laugh along with him, knowing he’s right, “I’ll be quick,” you assure, stripping out of your swimsuit and stepping under the cool spray of water. You run through your shower steps as quickly as you can and are in and out in ten minutes. While Quinn showers you do your hair and makeup, keeping it simple and sticking to your usual routine for fancier events. As you apply mascara on your lashes, you’re a bit giddy for dinner tonight.
The dress you picked out, was a classy white number that you had been saving for something fancy, and you were excited to finally be able to wear it. And also to see Quinn’s reaction to you in it. He hops out of the shower and is quick to change into a stylish short-sleeved white button-up and a pair of beige slacks.
“Do my hair?” he asks, tipping his head towards you in invitation. You smile, running some hair oil and a bit of curl product through his locks so they are nice and defined, he kisses you on the cheek in thanks, “I’ll wait for you downstairs,” he says stealing one last kiss.
He slips out of the room, and you lock the door behind him as you pull the dress out from the back of the closet. You get dressed, grab your bag and your trusty pair of nude heels, and go exit the room. As soon as you appear at the top of the stairs, Quinn's eyes are drawn to you. His jaw drops, and his eyes soften with love as you fuss over trying to fit your phone in your bag.
You look up to find Quinn staring at you and your cheeks warm. One thing about Quinn is that there is meaning in everything he does. He is purposeful and thorough, and he works hard for what he wants. So when he pins you with that look, you feel loved, purposefully, and wholeheartedly, and damn if that isn't the best feeling ever. You lock eyes with Quinn, and his lips curl into a soft, adoring smile.
Everything else falls away as you descend the stairs. It's just you and Quinn. He makes you feel like a princess, and he is your prince charming waiting at the bottom, hand extended towards you, ready to lead you to your happily ever after.
“Hi,” he whispers as you take his hand, he brushes a gentle kiss on the backs of your knuckles and your stomach flutters.
“Hi,” you smile, staring up at him through your lashes. You thought it would be impossible to love this man even more than you already did, but every day he proves you wrong, “I Love you,” you murmur softly.
“I love you too,” He smiles, and damn if you don't wanna abandon your dinner and spend the night in his arms.
Ellen rounds the corner and is immediately gushing over the two of you, “Oh, just look at you two! Come here I want pictures,” you slip on your heels as she ushers the two of you in front of the mantel, much to Quinn's chagrin.
“Mom please,” Quinn whines, “we’re not kids, and this is not prom,” you snicker at his whining, secretly happy that Ellen is making the two of you take photos.
“You may not be kids, but you're still my children, now pose,” she demands, holding up her phone.
Quinn wraps an arm around your waist and you place a hand on his chest as the two of you smile at his mom's camera. After she snaps probably over a hundred photos Quinn is practically pulling you out of the door, with the boat keys in hand, “better not get me wet,” you warn, as you carefully smooth down your dress.
“Wouldn't dream of it,” Quinn chuckles as the boat hums to life. You sit in the seat across from Quinn, legs curled under your chin resting against your hand as you take in the way the dipping sun reflects on the water. The golden halo of sunlight that illuminates you makes you look like an angel. Quinn is absolutely enraptured by your beauty, if he could freeze this moment in time, he would.
The boat ride from the lake house to the country club takes less than twenty minutes, it would have been faster if Quinn wasn't trying to keep the both of you dry. He parks the boat on one of the docks, and hops over the edge of the boat, holding his hand out to you. You take it gratefully, not letting go even when you are safe on solid ground.
So far you've only been to the Country Club during the day when the boys deemed it a golf day, or to play tennis, or grab something easy for lunch before going right back out in the boat. In the early evening, it almost seemed like a completely different place.
You hold onto Quinn's bicep, fingers tapping nervously against corded muscle, as he leads you through the front foyer of the building. Quinn squeezes your hand reassuringly. It's at moments like these that you feel self-conscious about the fact that you're dating a Superstar Captain of the NHL. He could be doing much better than a lowly elementary school teacher.
It's as if Quinn can read your negative thoughts. He looks at you, face soft with concern, nodding his head to ask if you're ok. You give him a tight smile and nod, squeezing his bicep again, as you dispel all the thoughts from your head. Quinn wants you. That's why you're here.
A pretty hostess, dressed from head to toe in black, is quick to find you. “Do you have a reservation?” she asks professionally.
“Yep,” Quinn answers with a polite smile, “It should be under Hughes,”
The hostess clicks a few times on her iPad, and her eyes light up as she clocks in Quinn's reservation, “Right this way please,” she leads you through The main dining room, up a set of stairs and out onto the rooftop patio with the most magnificent view of the lake. “Someone will be right with you,” she smiles.
“Thank you,” you and Quinn say simultaneously. He pulls out your chair, and you smile at him, smoothing your dress out as you sit down.
“Quinn, this is so beautiful,” you gasp, taking in the view.
“Yeah it is,” he says smirking. His eyes are locked on you, and when you notice your cheeks flush.
“You're so cheesy,” you mumble, picking at a loose thread in your napkin.
“You love it,” Quinn smirks.
At that moment a Waiter appears, offering the two of you menus, and asking what you would like to drink. Quinn orders some kind of expensive wine, and the waiter leaves to retrieve it and give you time to look over your menus. It's much fancier than you're used to, and it's a little overwhelming, but Quinn happily takes charge, keeping a comforting hand on your thigh under the table.
Once the food is ordered and you both have a few glasses of wine in your system everything feels much easier. Along the way, your heels got discarded under the table, and your bare foot was resting on Quinn's thigh, rubbing up and down teasingly.
Your foot strays a bit too high and Quinn wraps a hand around your ankle, stopping your foot from moving any closer to his dick. He throws you a dark, lust-filled look that holds a promise for later, and you smirk at him teasingly. All in all, the dinner was absolutely amazing. The food was delicious and you were absolutely elated to have Quinn to yourself for a few hours.
“Wanna go for a walk on the beach?” Quinn asks as the two of you leave the restaurant hand in hand. The sun is just dipping below the horizon, casting the sky in beautiful shades of orange, pink and purple.
“Absolutely I do,” you grin, hanging into his arm. The two of you deposit your shoes in the boat and walk along the waterline. Quinn has an arm draped over your shoulder, and yours is wrapped around his waist fingers dancing under his shirt and across the bare skin of his torso. You lean your head on his shoulder and his fingers draw patterns on your arm. You wish you could burn this moment into permanence.
“I can't wait to do this with you every summer,” you say quietly, afraid to disrupt the peace of the moment. Quinn pulls his arm from your shoulders, it takes you a few steps to realize he isn't walking, and when you turn to see what's wrong, your hands fly to your mouth with a gasp.
Quinn is down on one knee, with a ring box open in his hands. Somehow the only thing you can think is that his pants are going to get dirty from kneeling in the damp sand.
“Your pants are going to get dirty,” you croak, voice thick with emotion. Quinn chuckles, shaking his head fondly.
“Y/n,” he starts, with a soft breath, “I know we've technically only been dating for a few months. But for as long as I've known you I knew I wanted to do forever with you.” he takes a shaky breath “Honestly, I had a whole speech written, but you look so angelic in the sunset that it all left my brain.”
You let out a choked giggle, as tears pool in the corner of your eyes. You kneel down in front of him, resting your shaky hands on his knee.
“Your dress is gonna get dirty” Quinn parrots, and it's your turn to laugh at him.
Quinn takes another deep breath, brushing a stray tear off your cheek. “Y/n, from the moment I met you, I knew you would be special to me. Knowing you for the past six years of my life has been the greatest blessing that I could've asked for. The easiest thing I've ever done in my life is love you, and god- there aren't words to describe how much I love you and what you mean to me. I want to spend forever with you by my side.” The tears that decorate the rims of Quinn’s eyes finally spill over, “So, Y/n Y/l/n, will you do me the greatest honour in being my wife?”
An ugly sob escapes your lips and you throw your arms around his neck, “Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes,” you cry, pressing kisses to his face, there is salt on your lips and at this point, you aren't sure if they are your tears or his. Quinn finds your left hand and slips the ring onto your fourth finger. You take a minute to really look at it, and all of a sudden, you're crying all over again. It's everything you’ve ever dreamed of.
You throw your arms around Quinn again, dragging him down for a kiss, he holds you tight to his body, kissing you back like it's the last time he'll ever get to do so. As Quinn licks at the seam of your lips, something in the back of your mind reminds you that you're in public, but you can't bring yourself to care enough to stop kissing him.
The clicking of a camera accompanied by sniffling is what drags you out of your moment with Quinn. You look over to find Jack and Luke. Jack holding up his old camera from back when he had a hobby in photography and Luke holding up his phone. They're both teary-eyed with huge smiles on their faces.
Quinn stands, pulling you with him, and then Luke and Jack are throwing themselves at the two of you, and everyone is holding onto each other. There are so many tears it's hard to tell who's crying and who's not. Eventually Jack and Luke detach themselves from the two of you, wiping at their eyes and grinning wildly.
“I can't believe you said yes to spending the rest of your life with our stinky big brother,” Luke wrinkles his nose.
“Shut it, Moose,” Quinn rolls his eyes, pushing his brother playfully.
“I know you said yes, but it's not too late to blink twice if you need help,” Jack says seriously.
You laugh, knowing they are joking, but nothing could pry you from Quinn at this moment. Jack convinces the two of you to pose for a few more pictures, in the fading twilight. He captures a few absolutely stunning ones of your ring, promising that everything will be sent to you after he edits them. Eventually the four of you part ways, Jack and Luke heading to their car and you and Quinn back to the boat.
The drive back to the lake house is much chiller now that the sun is almost entirely gone. Quinn smiles knowingly, pulling a hoodie out of one of the seat compartments. You slip it over your head, sighing happily as the scent of Quinn engulfs you. He pulls you into his lap, keeping an arm securely around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your head against the crook of his neck.
“I love you so so much Quinny,” you whisper, “I'm excited to spend forever with you,”
“Me too, my love, me too” Quinn sighs happily, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.
A sudden thought hits you, and the biggest smile blooms on your face, "I can't wait to be Mrs. Hughes," you say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Quinns eyes twinkle lovingly, "That has a nice ring to it,"
"Yeah,"
-
Ok idk how I feel about this!
I started it and I loved it. Then I wrote the middle and I still loved it. And then I wrote the end, and I still loved it. And now that I have to post it I fucking hate it! So that's nice!
Anyways hope yall enjoy.
Leave comments cause I'm an attention whore 🥰
Also, this series likely won't be updated for a while, cause I never originally planned to make it a series anyways, but here we are! Just cause I have a lot of one-shots floating around in my notes that I wanna work on. If there's anything yall wanna see from this series, let me know and I might write that!
Also, I am working on those blurb requests! I promise! I'll start posting them eventually!
Apologies for the ramble, love yall <3
#quinn hughes#qh43#hughes brothers#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes blurb#captain quinn#quinn hughes oneshot#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes x y/n#nhl blurb#hockey imagine#hockey blurb#loving you is as easy as abc 123#idk how i feel about this so i nesd yall to hype me up
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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
Preparations, Danny soon realized, were very much useless. He'd spend a while just watching the vigilante, recording his habits and schedule, following him around and taking note of the little details. Call him a stalker, but he was just trying to make sure Nightwing didn't end up in an early grave.
Not like him.
Any and all preparations Danny had made could not ever fully gear him up for actually talking to the only vigilante he'd ever met. Sure, he knew the guy from afar, but actually speaking to him? Looking him in the eye? Having the other look back at him and actually respond? The closest he'd ever gotten to letting the guy know he was there was when he left food out for him and made sure he had water, sometimes coffee, within reach at all times.
Now that Danny was here, standing in front of the door to Nightwing's - Richard Grayson, he'd learned on day three - apartment, he was frozen. Was he actually about to do this? Could he really risk it? What if Nightwing flipped out?
No. He couldn't think like that. Nightwing's a vigilante, a detective, and an officer of the law. He won't attack willy nilly. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. Danny knew way too much about Nightwing's life to back off now.
Not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reached up and pressed the doorbell. He didn't hear the sound, but shuffling from inside alerted him that the man he'd come to see was now moving towards him.
'I hope this goes well,' Danny thought. Then, the door opened. "Good, at least you're taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods. Now, I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them properly without running yourself into the ground." He didn't mean to enter the apartment uninvited, but he didn't want to risk Nightwing closing the door on him or something. "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow." He turned to look at the man. "Any questions?"
Nightwing rook a second to process the words. Then, he said, "Yeah, just one: Who the fuck are you, kid?"
Well, he was in this deep, might as well dig himself a deeper grave. "I would say I'm your new legal guardian, but you're older than me and I can't exactly adopt a fully grown adult." Right? Yeah. Danny sat down stiffly, his bag on the floor and leaning against his leg. He pulled out the binder he'd cleared out and dedicated to helping the older vigilante and put it on the table. "I could say that you're my new legal guardian, but we run into a similar problem." Kind of. Being dead is a legal barrier, so adoption's off the table. Transferred custody on the other hand? Well, he's got that taken care of. Though, he had to wonder, "Could you adopt me?" No, he couldn't think of a way that would work. "No matter."
Nightwing, still standing by the open door, shook his head a bit as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
Introductions? Yikes. "I'm Danny! Nice to meet you!" He had no idea how he's not completely bombed this yet, but he wasn't going to complain.
Nightwing didn't move from the door, let alone shake his hand. Danny put it back on his lap. "Likewise, I guess."
"What, no name?" Was that pushing it?
"I'm optimistic, not an idiot." Yeah, he'd towed the line a bit.
Shrugging to try and rid himself of the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Danny opened the binder to the front page. It was mostly so he'd have something to do with his hands, but it proved to be a decent distraction for Nightwing, too. Though, he pushed down a blush when he saw the glittery blue writing. It was the only other pen he had on him and he'd stolen it from Jazz.
The distraction didn't last. "How did you find this place?" Nightwing asked, the door still wide open.
"Doesn't matter." He didn't think the vigilante would take kindly to being stalked followed around the subject of a kid's curiosity.
Nightwing very much did not seem to believe him. "Why do you think I have a day job and a night job?"
Did he- Oh. The man was probably holding out some kind of hope that Danny wasn't saying what he was saying. Oops. Should he apologise? "I'm a realist, not an idiot."
Throwing the words back at him was probably not the best decision. Then, again, Danny hadn't made a whole lot of good decisions since he'd stepped foot in Bludhaven. At least here, there was a chance he could get away with it, relatively scot free. Imagine if he were in Gotham? With how violent Batman got recently? No thank you. He'd rather take his chances with his parents.
Danny did his best to not clear his throat as he flipped to the next page. "First thing's first. Why do you do what you do? Why go out at night to fight crime when, I assume, that's what your day job is for? Why hurt yourself to help other people?"
Those were all questions he'd had to ask himself before the portal destabilized. Why did he do what he does? Why risk himself to help the people who'd never thank him for his help? Why put his life on hold to do the job of adults?
He'd thought he'd had solid answers for them back then, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless, this was a good place as any to start helping Nightwing.
If he could help just this one person, he'd be satisfied.
Part 3
Tag List: @flame-343
#part 4#danny phantom#dick grayson#dc#dp x dc#dp dc crossover#dcxdp#dcu#danny needs help#dick needs help#danny needs a hug#dick needs a hug#being a vigilante is hard#danny's a hypocrite#reverse adoption#work life balance#but it's being explained by a hypocrite 7 years younger than him#danny is going to make sure dick takes care of himself#is it really adoption if the kid shows up one day and just doesn't leave?#death is a legal barrier#danny's pov from part 1
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Darlin' pt 5
pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt6
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Slowburn romance)
Description: Cooper starts to soften up.
Notes: This one is a bit longer! I might be a little slower between parts from now on as it is finals season and I'll be graduating with my bachelor's degree (yay!) plus I work full time. As always, any critiques are welcome!
The air between us after the hug attempt was thick with tension. We walked in silence as we made our way into the wasteland, clear tracks in the sand making the target easy to follow. I was sure that the look on my face was pathetic, like a kicked puppy. I tried to hide my hurt at first, but it didn't seem like he cared much since he had hardly even glanced at me since we left Ma June's shop anyway. At least I had Whilzig's dog. I knew he was just there to help us track his master, but his presence felt comforting. Without him, I think the tension between Cooper and I would be too much to handle.
I glanced over at the ghoul every so often. I was hoping I would catch him glancing back, a sign that he did in fact, give a damn about me. I felt deflated. Any hope I had about his feelings for me had vanished.
I let a quiet sigh escape my lips as I looked down at my feet.
This seemed to get his attention as he stopped in his tracks and whipped around to face me. "Stop it." He said sternly, a look of annoyance on his face.
I was sure that my face did little to hide the horror I felt at his reaction. "I am just tired." I tried to lie.
"Sure." He said back, crossing his arms. He clearly knew I was lying.
I felt anger prickle up inside me. "Why are you looking at me like I did something wrong? I didn't." I exclaimed. "I hugged my friend. At least I thought I did."
He didn't respond to this, instead opting to look out into the never-ending sand.
"Let's just keep going," I mumbled as I stomped past him.
Growing up I loved the sun. I loved to feel its warm rays on my skin as it shined through the window. Now? Now I hated it. We had barely been in the Wasteland that long, and I already felt like the heat was suffocating me. It didn't seem to bother Cooper though. He showed no sign of tiring or discomfort. "One of the perks of being a ghoul I guess." I thought to myself bitterly.
After what felt like ages, our furry companion barked and started running towards a large piece of metal. Cooper and I exchanged looks before picking up our pace to catch up to him.
"What the hell?" I mumbled as I pinched my nose and looked away from the headless body.
Cooper crouched down next to Whilzig, a look of mild confusion on his face before looking out into the wasteland. One of his coughing fits started as he took his pack off of his shoulder and put it on the ground, rummaging through it. He found what he was looking for quickly, a metal tin with a couple of vials of Radaway inside. Despite being angry with him, I looked down at him, concern evident on my face. Almost like he could sense it, he looked up at me as he put the vial into his inhaler. His eyes closed and a look of relief washed over his face as he breathed it in. He let out one more soft wheeze as he collected himself.
"Cooper?" I asked softly.
"Yeah, Darlin'?" He replied while getting up from the ground.
"I'm sorry." I started. "I am sorry for huggin' you. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
His eyes bore into me while he contemplated his response. "You're okay Darlin'." He said quietly. "I am just an ill-tempered old man."
I let out a small giggle. "I would've said cranky, but ill-tempered is a nicer way to put it."
He let out a loud bark of a laugh in response. "Come on let's go find the rest of im'." He said as he patted my shoulder.
As we started to walk away from the body, Cooper let out a clicking noise, getting the dog's attention. The dog barked in response as he chased after us.
"How old are you anyway?" I ask curiously.
He hummed in response, "Old."
I decided not to press it further, his short response suggesting it wasn't something he wanted to discuss. This time, our silent march was much more pleasant. The tension from earlier was gone. I was exceeding grateful for this change. As the sun started to set, I felt relieved. The heat didn't feel quite as terrible as the sun started to fade behind the horizon.
"Good a spot as any," Cooper said as he peaked inside a half-crumbled building.
I sighed in relief. "God my feet are killing me. I think I've done more walkin' with you than I have in my entire life."
He let out a breathy laugh, "And you are gonna do a lot more, sugar."
It didn't take long for me to fall asleep in the sand curled up next to Whilzig's dog.
-
I slowly peeled my eyes open as I felt someone gently shaking me. My bleary eyes peered up to see the face of my traveling companion.
"Mornin' Darlin'." He smirked at my dazed and exhausted face. "Sleep well?"
I just grumbled in response. I slowly raised to my feet, wincing as the pressure on them began to build. I felt his eyes on me as he raised his bag to his shoulder. I sighed as I reached down to pick up my bag as well.
"When we get this bounty, I am gonna sleep for a week." I say with a soft groan.
"Gimme that." He said as he ripped my bag from my hands and threw it over his empty shoulder. He chuckled at the surprised look on my face. "Can't have your pretty ass slowin' me down."
I stood there for a moment and replayed our exchange in my head before finally running after him. "He keeps calling me pretty." I think to myself while a blush creeps over my cheeks.
"You know," I started, feeling bold. "I think we are a great team."
He glanced over at me, an amused look on his face. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I hummed happily. "I am really glad I met you."
An unrecognizable look washed over his face. Hesitation? Confusion? Fear? It looked like all of those emotions, all at once.
I gave him a weary smile, "Even if you won't let me hug you." I admit.
He hesitated, almost looking like he was going to say something before he stopped himself.
"Hey, Dog Meat!" He yelled up at the dog, "Don't go far."
"Dog Meat?" I mused, "Really?"
"That's what he is, ain't he?" he replied, smirking.
I knew he was trying to change the subject. He was uncomfortable again. So, I decided to let him as I let out a small giggle. "Sure, Cooper."
We continued along, getting closer and closer to the derelict city. The silence was only interrupted by the occasional bark from Dog Meat. We happened upon an oasis, the water inviting, almost trying to trick me into taking a dip. I knew better than that. We could hear a commotion in front of us as we started to slow down, quieting our footsteps. Cooper turned to me and put a finger to his lips, silently shushing me. Someone else was there. The bounty?
No, it was the vaultie. I stayed behind as Cooper snuck up behind her. She only noticed his presence once she heard the cock of his gun.
"Hello again." She said, her eyes filled with fear.
He greeted her by hitting her over the head with the butt of his gun. I grimaced as she fell to the ground.
"Where is it?" He snarled. "The head."
She whimpered on the ground quietly while Cooper picked up her bag and emptied the contents into the dirt.
Cooper got angry as he realized the head wasn't there. He cocked his gun again, ready to shoot her.
"Okay, okay, I don't know where it is. Okay? I lost it." The vaultie begged. "I lost it."
Cooper let out a soft hum as he looked around, it seemed like he already knew what he was looking for when he put his boot in a pile of dung. I made a disgusted face.
"Did you seriously have to do that?" I mumbled. This brought the vaultie's attention to me. She was so caught up in her fear of Cooper she didn't even realize I was there.
"A gulper got it, huh?" He said as he turned back to the vaultie before grabbing her by the hair.
She cried as she begged for mercy as he dragged her to the dock. Once there, he tied a rope with an anchor on the end around her body as well as bound her feet. I just watched from afar, feeling slightly bad for the girl. Dog Meat was barking so loudly I could hardly hear them.
"Stop! Please!" She begged as she wiggled, trying to break free. "My dad, he's an overseer. He got taken by Raiders and I need that head to get him back. If you help me find him, he'll do whatever you want!"
Instead of responding, Cooper just pushed her into the water. The rope she was bound with was connected to a piece of metal I did not recognize, but it kept her from sinking to the bottom. She splashed around as she panicked.
"Stop! Stop! Torture is wrong!" She cried out when he brought her back up out of the water.
Cooper let out a scoff. "You know, they used to do these things called studies. Why, you couldn't open a newspaper without reading about one study or another. Anyways, one particular study came out and it said torturing a person, don't do shit." He replied as he dropped her back into the water briefly before bringing her up again. "It made sense. I mean a man hurts me? I wouldn't want to do him any favors. And yet the practice of torture failed to vanish from this earth. In fact, as time marches on, I've personally noticed a decided uptick in the amount of torture being doled out across the board." He continued as he picked off a small creature from her back and fed it to Dog Meat.
"Sir, please. I need the head. It's the only way I can get my father back." The vaultie begged again. I admired her spirit. I debated asking Cooper to stop, but I bit my tongue instead.
"My point is," Cooper replied, ignoring her pleas. "If you ask me, them studies, they were right. Torturing a person don't do shit."
"Then why are you doing this?" She asked, exasperated.
"Well, I ain't torturing you, sweetheart. I'm using you as bait." He explained before dunking her in the water again. I hated to admit it, but I felt a tiny bit of jealousy in my chest at the nickname. I knew I shouldn't be jealous, he obviously held little love for her.
Cooper started to whistle as he got closer to the edge of the dock like he was beckoning something near. It was at this point that I realized I had been slowly inching closer to them this whole time as my feet finally met the dock.
"What is a gulper?" I asked Cooper curiously.
"A monster, darlin'. Careful." He said, realizing how close I was getting to the water. He grabbed his knife off the wooden box he put it on earlier and tied a rope around it. He clearly had a plan.
The vaultie started crying out in the water and flailing around even more than usual. This caused Cooper to try and lift her out of the water again, but the machine he was using was stuck.
"Cooper!" I cried out, realizing she was going to drown.
He sprang into action as he grabbed a hook, moving the entire machine to pull her out. As she was pulled onto the dock, a giant pink creature followed her. He was right. That was a monster. I ran up to the vaultie and grabbed her shoulders as I tried to pull her away, but the anchor tied around her was stuck in the gulper's mouth. She kicked at the creature violently as Cooper stuck it with his knife. The gulper got ahold of her leg and swung her around, pushing me into the water. I thrashed around as I tried to find something to hold onto.
"Cooper!" I yelled before I finally was able to grasp ahold of the dock. I could hear the tussle above me and the gulper finally cry out and fall back into the water.
I could hear Cooper gasping for air as he crawled over to me. "Give me your hand, sugar."
I quickly did as I was told. He pulled me out of the water and onto the dock with ease. He got up and looked out into the water, wincing as he realized the head was gone once again.
"Cooper," I said softly. "Your bag."
He moved swiftly, going straight for his tin of Radaway. At the realization that it was completely crushed he pointed his gun back at the vaultie.
"Motherfucker!" He shouted angrily.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I should've just let you use me as bait in a poison river!" The vaultie yelled back.
Cooper lowered his gun before turning back around to the water. "Fuck!" He screamed.
I finally stood up and waddled my way over to him. My clothes were soaked, uncomfortably sticking to my skin. This caught his attention, he put his hand on my cheek as he briefly scanned my body, looking for injuries. "I am fine." I hummed, my heart squeezing in my chest at his show of affection. It wasn't much, but it showed how much he cared.
"You can't treat people like this!" The vaultie interrupted.
"Yeah, why's that?" Cooper asked, his mind obviously elsewhere.
"Because of the golden rule." She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Do unto others as you would have done unto you."
I gave her an amused look as I let out a small laugh. "The golden rule, huh? I don't think he follows that."
"Those gulpers digest real slow. You got time." Cooper said to himself.
I put the hand on his shoulder reassuringly, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked at me for a second before hurrying over to pick up our bags. "We gotta go." He pulled out his lasso and made his way to the vaultie.
"No. no, no, no, no." She begged as he put it around her neck. "Where are we going? What about the head? I need the head to get my dad back."
"Yeah, well, the wasteland's got its own golden rule," Cooper replied, dragging her along.
"Yeah, what's that?" She asked.
"Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time." Cooper sighed.
"What about the dog?" I asked, scurrying after him.
"He ain't ours." He responded curtly.
I frowned at him. I had gotten attached to Dog Meat, but the determined expression on Cooper's face kept me quiet. Wherever we were going, it was important.
Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramateagreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl
#cooper howard#the ghoul fallout#cooper howard x reader#fallout tv series#the ghoul x reader#fallout
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Don't make me choose
Gojo x fem!reader
Word count: 1.4K
Summary: it's been some time since you've started dating the infamous Satoru Gojo. But lately you feel more like the two of you are just cuddle/fuck buddies and not a real couple. You make him choose his priorities which is something the strongest doesn't like.
Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort
When Gojo Satoru first asked you out you couldn't be happier. The first time he caught your eye was when he zoomed past you together with Geto on one bike. You got so startled you fell to the ground and scratched your knee. You thought at first that they will just leave you there and probably laugh at you later at a pub, talking to their friends how they knocked over a clumsy girl in a park. What completely shocked you was Gojo running up to you with Geto pushing their bike behind him asking you if you were okay and if you need any help.
The rest is history.
Now, three years later, things have been going well. Mostly.
You had the ultimate boyfriend experience. Nice dates, wholesome anniversaries, moving in together, having fun. You did everything in your power to not get boring, for him to not get bored. You cooked, cleaned, asked him how his day was, acted silly with him even when you were exhausted after a long day.
So why? Why was he spending more and more of his free time away from you?
It started out small. The first time you started noticing was like a month ago. As soon as he came home he told you he's going to the pub with Geto and Nanami. You told him to have fun of course, not wanting to seem like that girlfriend that doesn't allow their boyfriends having fun without them. Then from one weekend it became every weekend. Both of you were busy during the week, the only time you had for yourself was during the night and weekend. It soon became just nights.
Even during the week it was "babe, i have a day off tomorrow i'm going to Geto's" or "sorry we have to move the date night to sometime else, Geto is sick and has no one to take care of him" and once even "babe, remember how you told me about this place you used to love as a child? I'm going there with Geto! What a coincidence, right?". The last one hurt the most. Honestly, the last one was also what made you start noticing these in the first place. Once you looked into the past and counted all the times Gojo chose to spend his free time with his best friend instead of you you nearly slapped yourself. It was too many times. How could've you been so blind?
All off days were for Geto. All special days were once again for Geto. Weekends, holidays, his and yours birthdays, all for Geto fucking Suguru.
You needed to have a talk with him.
If he comes back that is. Lately he started to have sleepovers with Geto. As if both of them were teenage girls. You did ask to join them but they always told you off to "not disturb their boy time".
Steps echo outside your apartment. The door unlocks. And in comes...
"Babe," comes the voice of your beloved white haired guy, "I'm home."
"I can hear that," came your answer. You prayed it didn't sound too agressive. Your stomach was full of nervous butterflies, making it even worse to come up with a decent way to start the talk.
While you were thinking he came from the entrance hall to the kitchen where you were sitting and kissed you on the crown of your head. "I wanted to ask, do we have plans next wendesday? Because Suguru said he'd-"
"Listen," you interrupted him before he could even finish, "can we talk?"
Gojo chuckled. "That's a very scary sentence."
"Why? Have something to hide?"
"Nope," he put his bag down and leaned his back against the wall, "I'm listening. What is it?"
You took a deep breath. Then another. "Don't you think you're spending a little too much time with Geto?"
His playful smile loosend into a neutral line. "Elaborate?"
"It's just... you've been with him so much lately and I miss being with you-"
"I'm with you all the damn time. Every single night we-"
"Can't you let me finish?!" you said a little louder than intended but enough is enough. "Is that all you see me as? A fuck-buddy to warm your bed?"
Gojo groaned in annoyance. "No, of course not. But you're literally overreacting over here!"
"Overreacting? How? By wanting my boyfriend to be home on his off days? To spend some time with me and have fun like before?"
"Have fun times with you? What am I your babysitter?"
"Are you Geto's? All the fun stuff we used to do you're doing with him!"
"No, no darling," he stood up straight and walked towards you, backing you into the corner, "all the stuff we used to do I did with him first. He's my best friend! I've known him half my life! You have to have at least a bit of empathy to understand that."
Even cornered by a giant of a guy like him you didn't feel fear. The butterflies in your stomach died. What remained was just pain in your chest predicting what was about to come.
"Do you even see me as your girlfriend anymore, Gojo?"
"Oh, so we are on last name terms again?" he asked sarcastically and walked away to pour himself a cup of water.
"Answer me."
You watched him drink. Slowly. You've never seen a man drink this slow.
"Of course I do," he put the glass down, "what kind of a bullshit question is that?"
"It's how I feel Gojo. You're never here with me!"
"I am here now aren't I?" he poked his chest with his forefinger. "I'm here every single day and night, twentyfour fucking seven ever since we moved in together! Well excuse me I want to have some quality time with my best friend from time to time!"
You didn't want this. The yelling, the arguing. But it has to be done.
Now as a finishing touch. "Who do you value more?"
"Excuse me?" was all he said, too surprised to not hear you yell in return, just calmly asking your question.
"Who is more important to you? Your best friend or your girlfriend?"
Gojo covered his face with his palms and threw his head back. "You can't be serious right now," he groaned. "Suguru is my best friend. You can't just make me choose!"
"So I'm below a best friend. I might as well be called your friend with benefits..." you say more to yourself than him.
"There you go hating yourself again," he shook his head. "I get it, you want to hear me say how much you mean to me, how you're the most important thing in the world and other stuff I've told you a million times already and yet you still slip into this state. I might as well record myself saying those things so you could listen to them everytime you're attention starved," he pinched the bridge of his nose.
He sighed. "You know what? I'm tired of this. I still care about you, but you have to understand Suguru is-"
"I know," you interrupt his rant. "I'm tired too."
Gojo sighs. "Okay. Good. I knew we could talk this out," he said and picked up his sleepover bag again. "I hate arguing with you."
He walked past you to the bathroom to dump his pyjamas into dirty laundry. "Let's go to bed, okay?" he shouted from there.
After a quick shower he walked out the bathroom with nothing but sweatpants on and a towel around his neck.
However you weren't there. Not in the bedroom, nor living room, nor anywhere else. Confused Gojo walked around the apartment, looking for any signs where you might be hiding. Maybe you want to jumpscare him again to light up the tension?
Fine, two can play this game. He tiptoed into the bedroom to your massive closet and yanked it open.
You weren't there. But neither were your things. He quickly checked under the bed to see your beloved backpack missing.
Panicked he started calling out for you, thinking this was just a prank.
It wasn't.
You made him choose and without even realizing it he did.
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Finally Together
When Jerry called, I could immediately tell something was very wrong. He was holding an ice pack up to his face and looked deranged overall.
"Jerry? What the hell happened to you?"
"Oh, hey. Yeah. This." he pointed at his face. "That's a long story."
"Let me see!" I demanded. You see, Jerry was, most definitely, my bff - my very best, very gay friend. And he had a talent for getting into trouble, sadly.
He slowly lowered the ice pack and I gasped. His right eye was swollen shut, and his face was covered in bruises.
"How..."
"Well, there was this guy. He was kinda hot, and totally my type, but, you know, straight as an arrow. At least *now* I know that." Even despite his bruises, Jerry raised his eyebrows in the cutest way possible - one of the traits I admired about them.
Yes, I should mention, I kiiiind of had a tiny little crush on Jerry. Or perhaps a gigantic one. You always want the ones you can't have, right? In my case, I was a woman - which was enough to disqualify myself rather finally.
"...and? Did he hit you?" I asked, even though I already suspected the answer.
"Yeah. I was just talking to him, trying to subtly find out his orientation. You know how it goes. Apparently, I wasn't too subtle about it, though, and he kind of escalated all over my face. It's no big deal, now I know."
Jerry smiled, but I could clearly see that it caused him pain to do so. It nearly broke my heart.
"It is a big deal." I answered. "That's horrible. You are worth so much more than this. Where did it happen? Did you call the police?"
"It was in the gym. Keith - that's the guy - works there, so, I guess, I need a new gym." Jerry joked. "And no, I didn't call the police, it's just... it's alright, okay Mathilda?"
I was not convinced but decided to let it go. Jerry was just a so sweet and innocent guy, he wouldn't even cause someone trouble if that someone punched in his face. I, on the other hand, was fuming. That was not a way to treat my bff! I would have really liked to kick that Keith's ass right now.
I chatted a bit more with Jerry before he had to go and promised him to come over that evening.
To be quite honest, I didn't plan to do anything, but when I was walking to Jerry's apartment in the afternoon, I passed his gym. I didn't even know it was on the way, because I honestly never paid attention to it much. But now that I saw it on the way, I couldn't help it. I would go in there and just tell the manager that one of their employees was a homophobic asshole. Just a little push in the right direction.
I entered the gym. It looked quite standard, but I couldn't see any manager or anyone else to talk to, for that matter, so I just went in there. It was quite empty, which was not surprising at this time of the day. There was, however, a young, muscular man doing push-ups. It was quite disgusting, actually, with all the sweat dripping down his body and a musky, penetrant smell was filling the room.
He stood up and greeted me.
"Hi, there. You're not a member, are you?"
"I'm not." I said. I felt like adding a "sorry" or something but decided against it. Instead, I clutched my handbag tighter.
"So, what can I do for you, ma'am?" He had that smug grin of an urge driven man who seemed to undress me with his gaze. I shuddered in disgust, but still, I straightened my back.
"Well, actually, I'm here to make a complaint."
"A complaint? About what?"
"Your staff."
"Oh? Do you have an issue with someone working here?"
"Well, yes. I just learned that one of your trainers, Keith was the name, I think, assaulted a customer. That is a terrible way to treat people, and I will not stand for it."
The guy laughed and flashed me a superior grin while he nonchalantly readjusted his groin. Free balling of course. Ugh. Can you spell 'toxic masculinity'?
"Look, honey. Whoever told you that, they lied to you. Keith would never hit a girl, especially not a pretty one."
I felt my face reddening from anger.
"First off, I'm not your honey, and secondly, it wasn't a girl but a guy."
The guy raised his eyebrows. "Really? A guy, huh?"
"Yes. He is my very good friend, and it's not funny at all."
"Hmm. Yeah, I think I remember the guy, some fruity fag who needed to be told a lesson."
Then it dawned on me. The disgusting guy in front of me was the man that had hurt Jerry.
"You're the one who did it! How dare you!" I exclaimed and tried to slap his face.
Before I could land a hit, though, he grabbed my wrist with an iron grip and grinned like a predator.
"Ah, ah. I wouldn't try that, if I were you. Would be a shame, if something were to happen to your pretty face, too."
I withdrew my hand and trembled from disgust.
"Ugh. You're just such a disgusting... jock."
In hindsight, I had no idea what happened, but perhaps some benevolent spirit or sprite was listening. In any case, Keith all of a sudden got a really strange expression on his face and looked really pale for a moment. And then... he suddenly looked even paler, like white paper or cloth. I will never be able to forget the expression of surprise on his face, as his body kind of... collapsed in on himself. His muscular torso diminished, and his arms and legs twisted and fused into thin rubber strips. But his face... His face contorted into a white fabric pouch that was completely devoid of any features within seconds. It had only taken a few moments, but Keith had disappeared.
I looked around first, but nobody else was in the gym right now. I carefully stepped closer and inspected what was left of Keith. Inside his black, damp gym shorts that was lying on the ground, I could see a pair of men's underwear, I believe it was called a jockstrap: A large fabric pouch held by rubber bands - designed to just cover the genitals, although, judging by the size of the pouch, rather large genitals. Now, as Keith had demonstrated quite clearly just a few moments ago, he had certainly not be wearing any underwear - and I had seen what had happened to his face.
With pointed fingers, careful not to touch the damp gym shorts and almost gagging from the strong smell, I picked up the piece of underwear. I had almost thrown it away again, when I noticed that it, too, was covered in sweat and stink. However, the piece of underwear that had once been a man held a strange fascination to me. I lifted it up to my face, to have a closer look, but didn't consider the consequences. When I breathed in, my nose was filled with the overwhelmingly strong and manly smell of sweaty, unwashed genitals, and it triggered something inside of me. All of a sudden, I felt tingly all over and groaned. My body felt weird all of a sudden. It was like that disgusting smell was all around me, enveloping me, pushing me to... change, somehow.
In horror, I felt my feet swelling up in my shoes. It wasn't painful, but it felt like I had been wearing boots that were way too small. The pressure was quickly getting unbearable and painful until my canvas shoes and thin socks couldn't take it anymore. First on the left and then, shortly after, on the right side, the toes of massive feet burst out from the footwear. The pressure subsided, and it felt fine again.
The changes didn't stop, though. Now that my feet had broken free from their restraints, my legs were the next to follow. A ripping sound heralded the death of my tights, as my legs gained mass and muscles. It looked almost comically how the threads of my tights were ripped apart, strand for strand. At the same time, I watched, as my hands grew larger. Gone were my delicate fingers, replaced by thick sausage-like appendages. Those new finger weren't carefully manicured but instead, I was now sporting short, ugly nails that would have been fitting for a lumberjack, rather than a girl.
While my legs were still growing, and I was getting visibly taller, my arms were next to follow. My blouse didn't even stand a chance as the arms did not only grew longer but most importantly, stronger. My biceps swelled like I visited the gym every day and, to my horror, I saw a tattoo forming on my right arm that reminded me a lot of the one Keith had had. I didn't have much time to think about it, though, as a new force practically ripped my blouse apart: My torso was pushing outward in all directions. My shoulders widened considerably, and my bra snapped from the strain. At first, I thought my boobs were growing, but it was quite the opposite. They were receding into my body, being replaced by even more massive and decidedly male pecs. Below them, a ripple went through my stomach, leaving behind the cobblestone road of abs.
The changes had met up at my midsection now and I was afraid of what was going to happen next. Sure enough, my skin-tight summer trousers bulged forward as something pressed against them from the inside.
"No..." I groaned, with a lower voice than I was used to, and tried to push whatever was appearing back into my midsection, but it was no use. With another ripping sound, a penis emerged from between my legs, quickly followed by a pair of testicles that pushed the ruined trousers down and settled in between my tree trunk-like thighs.
My head started swimming. That was wrong, that was so wrong. But the changes just went on. An Adam's apple formed in my throat, further lowering my voice, and my face reformed. It became squarer, and my jawbones became more pronounced. At the same time, my beautiful long hair receded into a short masculine cut. However, as hair disappeared on top of my head, it grew elsewhere. Or, should I say everywhere. Disgusting, wiry body hair grew in on my arms and legs and even on top of my enormous feet and the back of my hands. My chest was coated by a layer of short and coarse hair, and a treasure trail led down my midsection, where it disappeared into a thick pubic bush.
Speaking of bushes, two more formed in the large area of my armpits. Ugh. I was hairy like a fucking monkey. The only well-groomed bit of body hair was on my face, in the short beard that I could see in the gym mirror.
I could hardly believe my eyes. Staring back at me from the reflection was no one else but Keith. *I* was a splitting image of Keith now, only naked aside from the tatters of my clothes. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a low grunt.
Okay, Mathilda, no reason for panic, I told myself. I would just... Go see a doctor. Yes. There had to be an explanation. This could be treated.
I took a step towards the exit and stumbled over the remains of my coughing. Oh, right, I was still naked.
The only piece of clothing was Keith's gym shorts. Well, his gym shorts and Keith himself, who was a piece of underwear now. I looked between the shorts and the underwear. On the one hand, I really didn't want to wear what had just been Keith, but on the other hand... I certainly wasn't going without any underwear. Everyone would be able to see the outline of my current genitals. Yuck.
So, lacking other options, I pulled on the white piece of underwear. It was, unsurprisingly, very sweaty, and it clung to my junk. I grimaced, but it was better than the alternative. My ass was still largely uncovered, but that was not as bad as the front side. I had to admit that my new equipment filled out the pouch pretty well.
I quickly shook my head and pulled on the gym shorts as well. It felt weird not to cover my chest, but that was probably acceptable in my current state.
Perhaps I could ask Jerry if I could borrow some men's clothing from him.
Oh my, Jerry. He was probably waiting for me. I grabbed my handbag and fled the gym.
Walking felt weird. Of course, regardless of my looks, I was still a woman, so I took small steps and refused to spread my legs too much while walking. It was very awkward. The sun was shining down and although it wasn't all *that* hot, I found myself starting to sweat. How disgusting was that? It was like those stupid mountains of muscle were producing so much heat that my skin was soon glistening with sweat and my armpits started to smell. I tested it by lifting an arm and taking a whiff. Ugh. I needed a shower, badly. I probably would be able to use Jerry's.
Jerry... I saw his face right in front of me in my mind. The cute smile, the adorable brown eyes, the cute little dimples on his cheeks when he grinned.
A strange feeling came over me from my groin area. What was going on down there? When I looked down, the ample bulge of my cock had become even bigger, probably tenting out the pouch that had been Keith's face. I groaned. Men were so primitive. All it took was one sexy thought and bam, erection.
Still, I couldn't deny that it felt pretty good. I checked it anyone on the street was looking before I felt the outline of the cock through the layers of clothing with my big hand. The touch made me moan, and I felt my member throb.
That's when I experienced the weirdest feeling. As the sweat from my groin mixed with the fluids seeping out of the cock head and were absorbed by the jockstrap, all of a sudden, I felt the presence of Keith - the real Keith. It was like a strong mental attack, to get his body back, but I fought back. It was not *his* body, it was mine, even though it may have looked like Keith right now.
It was the strangest experience. I could practically *feel* his thoughts and emotions. The humiliation from being wrapped around, well, *my* cock and balls, I could even taste and smell an echo of what he was tasting and smelling, including the weird taste of precum that had mixed into the face-pouch recently.
It wasn't easy, but I repelled Keith's mind and kind of stuffed it back into the underwear. When I continued my walk, I didn't even notice that I know walked like a man: With long, powerful strides and enough room for my balls.
Luckily, my cock had calmed down a bit by now, and I ran the rest of the way, just to make sure. I was glistening with more sweat when I finally arrived at Jerry's apartment and rang the bell. Ugh. That musk was so bad, I just hoped I could hop under the shower right away.
However, when Jerry opened the door, we were both stunned for a moment. I because Jerry looked even better in reality than when I imagined him. Foreign hormones flooded my system, coming from my balls and I just stood there for a moment. Of course, I had a crush on Jerry before, but right now, in this moment, I realized for the first time that now, Jerry wasn't quite as unreachable as before.
Jerry, on the other hand, backed away, an expression of fear on his face.
"Keith, what... Is this some kind of joke?"
I was taken aback by his reaction.
"No! It's not... It's me, Mathilda!"
"Who?"
"Mathilda, your best friend."
Jerry stared at me, confusion on his face.
"What are you talking about Keith? Wasn't it enough for you to bash my face in? Do you want to humiliate me now?"
"No, please. Listen, Jerry, you're my friend, and I would never hurt you."
He scoffed. "Oh really? My black eye says otherwise."
I could feel myself getting upset from all the testosterone and took a deep breath.
"I can explain. Please, Jerry, hear me out."
He looked at me skeptically.
"Fine. I'll listen."
With that, he let me into his apartment.
"Okay, first of all, can I take off these gym shorts? They are really really disgusting and sweaty, and they are clinging to my legs. Yuck!"
"Uh, oookay." Jerry looked even more confused but allowed it.
Gladly, I got rid of the stinking shorts and threw them at the ground, far away from me. Jerry frowned but was apparently more captured by my now only jockstrap-clad body that I sat down on his couch. I admit I wanted to get rid of the jockstrap, too, but then I would have been completely naked in my friend's living room.
The thought was oddly exciting, and I felt my cock raise in reaction.
I just hoped that Jerry wouldn't notice my state of arousal, even though there wasn't much fabric left to hide it, but I quickly spoke.
"So, Jerry, it's really me. Remember the time when we watched Star Trek: Voyager and had a pillow fight, and you beat me easily, even though I am taller and stronger?"
"How would you know about that, Keith?" Jerry crossed his arms. He had obviously noticed my midsection problem, which was throbbing now, leading to another wet spot on the piece of underwear.
"I'm telling you, I am Ma..."
Suddenly, I grabbed my head. There it was again. Keith had reacted to my arousal and was fighting for control of *my* body again. It was weaker this time, though, and although it took me a few moments, I pushed him back between my legs, where he belonged.
Finally, I spread my legs, man-spreading without even thinking about it and giving the whole world in general and Jerry in particular a good view of my massive groin. A smirk formed on my face. Having such a big cock was something to be proud of.
"...Mathilda." I finished my sentence, although I found the name rather unfitting for a stud like me. "I just kind of... transformed into Keith's body, but it's still the same old man as always. Woman, I mean."
"Uh... what?"
I smiled and stood up, slowly, so he could see all the muscles I had gained. I was taller, too, taller than Jerry even.
"But tell me, do you like what you see?" My cock was throbbing like mad now. God, I needed to have this man!
"Uuuh... uhm... yes? Yes."
I chuckled. "Well, Jerry. I don't know how to get back to my original body yet, but do you want to... touch this one?" I gently took his hand and placed it on my chest.
Jerry didn't react at first, but then he started caressing my chest. It felt great, and he moaned, too.
Another small spurt of precum spilled into my underwear and again, Keith acted up. It was even weaker this time, and I had no trouble staying in control. I did notice something else though. Apparently, Keith was enjoying this a lot, way more than a straight man should. He was almost addicted to my cock fluids by now, and he mentally lapped at my organ submissively. And he exhibited a longing for Jerry that appeared to be too deep-rooted to have developed recently. Well, good for him, because as my jockstrap, he would have a front row seat in what happened next.
"Mathilda, is it really... okay?" Jerry asked, barely being able to restrain himself.
"Yes Jerry." I said while looking into his eyes. "It's more than okay. It's perfect. And it's Matthew from now on, okay?"
I took a deep breath, breathing in my wonderful musky smell, and I watched Jerry do the same. And when I kissed him, I couldn't wait to tear his clothes off and plow his cute little ass with my mighty cock while my lucky jockstrap was watching.
#female to male tf#muscle transformation#straight to gay#inanimate transformation#sweat#musk#man stink#romance
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so real
part three of congratulations series masterlist
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: more angst 👹👹, depressive thoughts, use of a vape, drug addiction (rapture)
synopsis: miguel’s boss, tyler stone, offers him an.. alternative route to deal with his grief
author’s note: CAN I TALK MY SHIT AGAIN 🗣️‼️ anyways i’m sure you all knew by now but none of this is 100% canon :3
word count: 6.3k
Church bells echoed through his head time and time again, the relentless sound practically playing on cassette in his head. The sound was accompanied by the sounds of Tempest's screaming, screams of anger and fear combined. Screams that would engrave themselves into his very being, reminding him of his failures. Why didn't you save me? I trusted you!
He patted the spot where you'd laid to him next to him, finding it empty. That was enough to wake him up from his restless slumber. He scrambled up to his feet, his mouth open to call out for you but nothing came out. All that was running through his head was the worst possible outcome, of finding you seriously injured or possibly even unconscious. The only thing he could do was listen as you called out to him: Miguel. Miguel. Miguel.
"Miguel."
"Miguel," his eyes snapped up open, realizing that was just another dream. He looked down to see that you were laying down next to him, your face grimacing as you wiggled. Oh shock. He'd clung on to you too tightly, practically almost squeezing you against his body. His grip immediately loosened, your body immediately relaxing. The loss of contact was evident even if you'd only moved a couple inches away from him.
His very being craved to be next to you, as selfish as it was. Your comfort was the only thing that he needed now, more than the very oxygen he inhaled.
"I'm sorry about that," he muttered, his voice hoarse from sleep and from all the crying he'd done just a couple hours prior. "It's okay, just go to sleep," you mumbled groggily, still half asleep. You rubbed your eyes, looking over your shoulder at him through half lidded eyes. You'd never seen him look so.. miserable. And yet, you had no idea who he couldn't save. You had no idea how to help, all that you could really do in this position was stay where you were and offer him your presence.
Sleep did not come back to him after that, despite how comfortable your body felt next to him. Every time he shut his eyes, the image of Tempest's rotting corpse came to the forefront of his mind. How no matter how hard he'd tried, he had nothing to account for that in the end. All that he had to account for the amount of effort that he'd put in was the amount of guilt within himself, the amount of blame that he placed upon himself for not doing more. Even if the rational part of his brain tried to convince him that he did the most he could.
He looked over at you, entranced by the small fall and rise of your chest as you slept comfortably next to him. The way your mouth slightly parted to let out a couple snores. Silently admiring all the little things he took for granted in the few times that he had you in his bed. Probably would be the last time that he got to see you in such a vulnerable position. "I love you too, chiquita. It's always been you," he whispered, kissing the top of your head before closing his eyes once more.
He was tempted to pull you back into his chest once he saw you stirring awake, a yawn escaping from your lips. "Morning," he spoke up as he saw you get up from the couch, stretching your arms out. You looked restless, probably from the uncomfortable position you'd been forced in. "Morning," you didn't even bother looking back at him, going over to the kitchen to get started on making a fresh pot of coffee.
Miguel leaned against your kitchen counter, his attention solely focused on every single one of your movements. The coffee pod that you'd chosen to put in the machine- a vanilla espresso. The amount of sugars and creamers that you'd set down on the counter. The slight curve of your body as you leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. The way that you tried to avoid his not so subtle staring, your eyes flickering to all the small surfaces around.
"Why'd you come to me last night?" you decided to bite the bullet and ask the question that'd been rummaging through your brain all night long. For claiming to have nothing 'serious' with you, he was sure comfortable coming to your apartment at wee hours of the night. Not that you discouraged that activity by any means, though. Maybe you were more responsible than you would've liked to admit.
"Because I needed you."
"You can't do this to me. Treat me as if I'm nothing to you and then seek me out when you're at your lowest."
"I never treated you as if you were nothing to me."
"And yet, we were nothing serious? Or are you going to deny saying that?" You were expecting for him to have some kind of comeback to that, but he stared down at his coffee like it was single-handedly the most interesting thing in the world. The silence almost suffocating, you could almost see the gears turning in that big head of his.
"Look I don't know what happened but serio-"
"Tempest.. passed away last night and I couldn't save her. No matter how much I tried to."
Now that had stunned you into staying quiet, an apology at the tip of your tongue. For what, exactly? For making assumptions or to offer your condolences? Both, most likely. But before you even got the chance to open your mouth, he was already speaking again. "The engagement was a farce. She needed access to insurance and she only managed to get that through being with me."
"And you felt as though you couldn't be honest with me? I know that we've slept together and I don't know about you, but I've spent longer than that loving you," you told him, setting your coffee mug down on the kitchen counter. A stupid mug that he'd gotten for you, World's Best Girlfriend Situationship.
"Look Miguel, I get that you're going through a lot but you can't expect for me to be here only when you want me to be around. I think I deserve more than that by this point."
You were so right. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but how could he say that when he'd treated you just the way you described ever since you came back? Even if he said so, he knew that his words wouldn't be enough to convince you otherwise. He stared at you in silently, his face conveying the pain that he wouldn't dare to voice out loud. Don't fall for it. Don't. As much as you wanted to comfort him, as much as a part of you couldn't bear to see him so upset, you needed to put your own needs above his own for once.
"Finish up your coffee and grab your clothes from the drier. I'll be here when you're ready to treat me like I mean something to you, but up until that point, I don't want to see you."
Miguel tried to prolong the couple sips of coffee he had, taking a few drops every two minutes. Anything that would give him the excuse to be around you longer than he should've. "I'm sorry," he spoke up, watching as you paused in cleaning your mug before resuming. "What's the point of saying sorry if you haven't done anything to change it yet?" your words came out so hushed, his ears practically perking up. If you'd noticed that he wasn't finishing up his coffee, you hadn't bothered to say anything just yet.
Miguel lost track of how many times he'd passed the sponge by the mug, lost in his own thought. How is it possible that he lost two of the people he cared about in less than 24 hours? He could practically see his own reflection in the mug by the time he decided to put the sponge down, rinsing the suds away. He walked over to the laundry room, grabbing his clothes before making his way out of your apartment. "Bye," his words were barely audible, unable to look at you or talk to you after how the last exchange had gone.
This time around, Miguel drove with extreme caution. Almost as a way to overcompensate for his rash behavior last night. He didn't even bother slamming his hand against the wheel when a car merged onto his lane without using their turn signal. At least he didn't have to go into work until Monday, leaving him enough time to seep into his self loathing. And to think about the fact that despite the fact he'd dreamed about the day you'd move back to Nueva York to be with you, it was starting to become more and more unattainable.
He was tempted on calling out on work when Monday rolled around, saying that he needed some time to grieve. But all that he'd been doing at home was look up at the ceiling and think about different alternatives. Alternatives where he wasn't a screw up. Alternatives where his efforts actually counted towards something, where he was actually saving people. A different alternative where you didn't hate him, where he was less of an idiot to prove to you just how much you actually meant to him.
Sleep didn't come to him that easily either. He'd spend hours counting sheep and listening to white noise only to find himself groaning into his pillow. Every position proving to be futile in his restless nights, the image of seeing Tempest in that hospital practically tattooed at the back of his eyelids every time he closed them. His eyes burned from how long he’d kept them open, his head pounding as it urged for him to take at least a nap. Not that he would listen.
Awake or not, his life was starting to become a continuous torment. Every day was the same miserable cycle, though he wasn't making any effort to change it either. Maybe he deserved to feel the way he did right now. It's what he told himself anytime that he was starting to feel the numbness get overwhelming. That he didn't deserve to have some relief from this grief. The days blurred onto one another to the point where he couldn't tell the distinction between them until he looked down at his phone to check the date.
Get up. Drink coffee. Eat two bites of an overpriced sandwich he'd buy at Alchemax. Work. Close eyes. Repeat until exhaustion.
Upon grabbing a fresh lab coat from his closet, he caught a glimpse of the suit he was supposed to wear for the wedding. The wedding ceremony that would've happened tomorrow. Instead, it would now be his funeral suit. He pushed the suit to the back of his closet, pulling his dress shirts over it to conceal the fact. Just looking at it had proved to be an eyesore. He grabbed the first pair of socks that he found, not even bothering to check that they were the same pair before putting his shoes on. Spoiler alert: One was bright red and the other one was a dull purple.
He ran a hand through his messy hair, the action doing completely nothing to aid the bird's nest in his hair. Hairs stuck out from every end and there had even accumulated a gloop of dry hair gel on his scalp. He was a mess in every sense of the word. If that was even a strong enough word to describe his current state. He wasn't even sure when he bothered to take more than a five minute shower, maybe a week ago? Though he told himself that a couple days ago so he wasn't truly sure how much time had really passed.
"Puta madre," he grumbled, a couple of the comb's teeth falling from the sheer force that he'd exuded into just trying to run it through a couple strands. Miguel tugged on the comb with a bit more force, though it wouldn't go through no matter how much he wanted it to. He set down the black comb, rummaging through his cabinets to find a new one. He'd be lying if he said that the sight of seeing Tempest's stuff mixed in with his didn't make a couple tears run down his cheeks. From the halfway finished hair products to the new perfume that she was wanting to try out.
After breaking a couple more brushes, Miguel decided to give up on the effort to fix up his appearance. Not that he even needed to put that much effort, much of the interns didn't even bother to put on deodorant before they showed up. He'd completely forgotten about the work meeting that was set up for today, stepping into the room about ten minutes later. The attention of the room went to him immediately, the loud slam of the door behind him doing nothing to aid the situation. He muttered a half ass sorry before going to sit down.
Gloved fingers snapped in front of him, disrupting whatever little train of thought was coursing through his head. Miguel couldn't even bother to hide the irritation in his face as he turned to look at Aaron, raising his eyebrows as he waited for the shorter man to speak. He was almost tempted to laugh at the way that Aaron had to huff out his chest to put on an intimidating facade. Trying so very hard to present the small bit of authority that Tyler Stone had placed upon him. And failing, truthfully.
"Get your head out your ass and listen closely. Mr. Stone can't handle any mistakes in this project," Aaron's voice seemed so far away, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Nothing that he did mattered, anyways. He couldn't keep the girl. He couldn't save anyone. Aaron's voice faded out into a low hum, a garble of technical nonsense. How the project at hand could put human lives at stake if done incorrectly and of how it could improve lives if it actually worked. Nonsense he's heard time and time again.
He didn't even realize he was dozing off, his body slumped against the rolling chair behind him. "Wake the hell up or you're fired in the next five seconds! Mr. Stone requested to see you in his office," that same damn voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard broke him out of his slumber, a large palm slamming on the desk in front of him. Miguel grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, willing himself to wake up before getting up from his chair. He ignored the small snickers that followed after he departed the room.
Miguel took the opportunity to step into one of the bathrooms, taking the opportunity to look over himself before he appeared in front of Mr. Stone. He didn't need to receive a lecture on unprofessionalism on top of the lecture he was probably going to receive already. Not that he cared all that much, but he wasn't sure just how much more yelling he could take with the steady pounding in his head. Rumors floated around people getting fired for even looking at Mr. Stone in a way that they shouldn't have, his ruling over the company an iron fist.
He splashed some cold water on his face, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the last remnants of sleep that lingered behind. The water did nothing to aid with the redness in his eyes, the sleep deprivation apparent to anyone who would spare a second glance. Luckily enough for him, Mr. Stone couldn't care less if his mental health was deteriorating. He grabbed a bottle of eye drops from his coat pocket, squirting some of the substance into his eyes before making his way over to Mr. Stone's office.
Miguel brought his hand up to the large wooden door, knocking on it twice. He looked up to see the camera hanging above the door now pointed towards his direction, the stare from it lasting for a couple seconds than what was necessary. A loud buzz came through the large doors before they opened to reveal the space that was Mr. Stone's office. If it could even called that. While interns were forced to work downstairs in cubicles with a half-functioning air conditioner, Mr. Stone had a tiger rug placed in the center of the room.
Miguel almost felt bad for getting the floor dirty, his eyes shifting to what else the office had to offer. Large windows that went from the top of the wall down to the floor, presenting a perfect view of the Nueva York skyline. The sunlight coming through the windows reflected onto the gold podiums that he had set up, the sight almost painful to look at. Mr. Stone turned around in the rolling chair he was on in a villainous fashion. Miguel was almost surprised that he didn't have a white cat on his lap to finish up the touch.
"O'Hara, right?" While Aaron tried so hard to exude power he didn't have, all Mr. Stone had to do was speak. He could almost feel the temperature drop a couple degrees from the sheer coldness of his voice. "That's me, sir. I heard you wanted to see me," Miguel spoke up, clearing his throat. He stood at a distance, not making the slightest attempt to move closer unless Mr. Stone asked for him to do so. Mr. Stone stayed quiet for a couple seconds, analyzing him carefully from head to toe before speaking,
"We're testing out a new drug at the facility. It's completely safe for consumption and I believe it's what you need to get over this grieving period."
"Excuse me?" It was the first time that Miguel had heard of an employer actually promoting the usage of drugs, though it was no secret that a majority of Wall Street in Nueva York was high off cocaine just to get through business meetings. He expected Mr. Stone to tell him that it was a test, to see if he would take the bait but all he got in return was more silence from the man. Suddenly, he stood up and dusted off his suit. A suit that probably cost more than his apartment building if he had to guess. "Please, follow me. I have something to show you."
Tyler unlocked a steel door with his ID badge, the temperature inside the room enough to make Miguel shiver underneath the thin white lab coat he had on. He wanted to turn around, tell Tyler that he wasn't interested in this anymore but a green vial was placed in the palm of his hand. "Look, I'm not telling you that you need to take it but just know that we have the resources here to help you," Tyler really was trying to amp up this caring persona up to the max with his soft way of talking.
"Just think about it, okay? You have full access to this center of the facility from now on in case you do end up taking it," Tyler finished up as the two of them stepped out of the room, leaving Miguel with a decision to make. A decision that had he been in the right state of mind wouldn't even be up for debate at all. And yet, here he was actually considering going through with what Mr. Stone had told him. By the time that Miguel came back to the conference office, he found the room void of anything other than the things he left behind. He stuffed the vial deep into his pocket before going to pick up his things.
Miguel held the vial between his thumb and pointer finger, analyzing what he could about the drug. From what he could discern from the bottle, the drug didn't seem too different from over the counter pain prescriptions. But he's seen things over the months, seen the way that Alchemax deliberately failed to mention certain ingredients just to get FDA approval. The way that they put human safety at the bottom of their priority list, funding for research at the top. Of the experiments locked away in the basement begging for some kind of mercy, for the chemicals to stop making every breath impossible.
And yet, with that doubt in his mind, he injected the drug into the first vein that he could find on his arm. The pounding in his head dissipated to a low hum, the pressure from his body relieved. He felt the best he had in days, the exhaustion from his body was something of the past. He felt like he was on top of the world, like he was able to run a marathon and win first place. Everything seemed much easier now, making him even wonder what he was even depressed about. There was truly nothing else that could replicate the blissful feeling inside of him.
Funny to think about how he'd gotten on his brother for having a vape a few years back. A 'Very Juicy Mango Pod' that was on the market for lasting longer than normal vapes. Half the school had been indulging in those substances just to get through the day, something that he hadn't dabbled in and quite frankly would never dabble in. He hated that feeling, the feeling of having no control over his body. Of only being susceptible to that temporary euphoria. The feeling of only having relief with one hit of those things.
"You know that stuff's gonna fuck up your lungs, right?" His tone was condescending, only because he truly did care about Gabriel. He wafted the thick smoke blown at his face, his eyes narrowing slightly upon seeing the stupid grin on Gabriel's face. "That's just a rumor, hermanito. You can't really say anything until you try it out," Gabriel retorted, dangling the small bar in front of him. Miguel took the vape from his hands after what seemed to the forth dangle, hesitantly bringing it to his lips. He inhaled, the smoke traveling down to his lungs immediately.
He coughed, his body immediately rejecting the substance. How anyone liked that stuff was beyond him. He practically tossed it back to Gabriel, the touch of the bar almost enough to disgust him. "Just.. don't get hooked on that stuff, I care about you too much to lose you," Miguel told Gabriel, sitting down next to him. It was one of the couple times where he expressed love for his brother verbally rather than letting his actions do the talking. "I know and I won't, I promise," Gabriel's voice was full of determination, an arm slung around Miguel's shoulders.
The next morning when he woke up to go to school, he found Gabriel's small stash of pods and bars tossed in the depths of trash can. Some of which he'd barely bought at an outrageously high price from a plug. Though when Miguel had asked him about it, Gabriel simply shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I don't want to give you reasons to worry about me. You do that enough as it is," Gabriel assured him, letting him know that he'd done him a favor. "I know it was hard but thank you," Miguel told him, the two going out for lunch after school that day.
The low hit him harder than he could've expected. It hit him when he was at home, watching the news on TV. The reporter was babbling about some robbery that happened on 54th Avenue, but all he could think about was when he would be able to get his next fix of the damned drug. His mouth practically salivated at the idea of having it in his system once more. Within that need however, there also resided a deep feeling of guilt. A guilt that was clawing him from the inside out, yelling at him to stop what he was doing. That Tempest, his mother, Gabriel, and you would all be disappointed in what he was doing.
"Shut up, shut up!" He yelled at nothing in particular, tossing his remote control at the TV with more force than necessary. The TV changed into an array of colors before shifting into black and white, the remote almost cracking the screen upon further inspection. He paced around his living room floor, the pounding in his heart difficult to ignore. Sweat dripped down from his forehead despite the fact that he turned the AC to the lowest he could without freezing to death, his body begging for just one more hit. Just one.
The urge to have more of that small green vial overwhelmed every sense of his being. Just five minutes without the drug made him feel like he was drowning. He thought he felt pathetic before but this was a new low even for him. Sitting down on his bathroom floor, injecting a fresh vial of Rapture just so he wouldn't feel like he was completely losing his mind. It didn't even feel pleasurable as it did the first time, but it did help with bringing back his body to stable levels. It helped him to forget the small voice in his head that was screaming at him to be rational.
The red beaming light from the camera placed on the steel ceilings of the laboratory seemed to mock him every time that he approached the storage room. Despite how many cameras were placed across the laboratory, he couldn't help but feel that this one was zeroing in on every movement he made. On every new vial that he grabbed. Almost as if Mr. Stone was checking up on him, checking to see if he fell for his carefully woven trap. And he did. His pockets were stuffed full of vials, trying to assure that he wouldn't have to go without them.
He was starting to become a brainless zombie. Coming into work with the illusion that he'd be able sneak in a couple vials of Rapture during his lunch break without capturing anyone's attention. Though, rumors had been starting to circulate. Hushed whispers about how the one with the most promise at Alchemax was now a drug addicted fiend. Not that anyone would ever said that to say his face, the whispers died down every time he was in close proximity.
“Hey, have you talked to Miguel recently? He hasn’t been answering my calls and that’s just not like him, y’know?” Gabriel called to ask you around three in the morning. Clearly the brothers had a taste for waking you up at the ass crack of dawn. “No, I haven’t. I haven’t talked to him in like three weeks, I wanna say. Let me know if you hear from him though,” you responded, rubbing your eyes as you tried to stay awake for Gabriel’s sake. “I will, thank you. And please, don’t give up on him. I know he’s an idiot but his heart’s in the right place.”
You looked down at Miguel’s contact information, wondering if you should call him. You did tell him to leave you alone if he wasn’t willing to prove himself to you. And if he hasn’t answered his own brother’s phone calls, then why should he answer yours? After letting the thought seep in, you decided to dial his number. You were hoping for some kind of miracle, that you’d be the one he would make an exception for. “Please leave your message after the beep. BEEP!” Was the only response you received though.
“Hey, I know I said I wasn’t going to talk to you but please call me or Gabriel. Just let us know you’re alive, please. He’s really worried about you. Okay, well I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Bye.”
Calls from Gabriel went unanswered along with the thousand voice messages that he'd left, asking him how he was and expressing concern for him. "Llámame cabron, que estoy preocupado por ti.” I've asked around and no one's heard from you in a couple days. For your sake, I hope you're not dead in a ditch," was what the last message had transcribed to, Gabriel's voice a pitch higher. Usually, Miguel wouldn't have let his brother worry this much about him but he couldn't feign being sober to save his life.
He couldn't take it anymore. The urge that he had to feel that high, even for a couple seconds only to end up feeling like complete crap after he'd taken it. The lows were what got him to get up and inject that poison into his system, the thoughts in his head too much to bear. If he thought that it was bad before the drugs, it was much more worse now. The images of Tempest were much more vivid now, he could practically feel her cold fingers on his skin as she pleaded him for something. He couldn't make out what that something was, it was just an endless string of 'please.'
He was taking the drug more so out of obligation. His body goes cold after a few minutes of sobriety, trembling as his grip on reality starts to waver. The drug offered him shorter periods of relief with every new vial that he inserted into his body, but it offered him some kind of relief. Even if it was just fifteen minutes of letting him forget about the misery that his life was. It wasn't until he looked at his reflection in the mirror that he realized how truly screwed he was, how much he'd been disregarding his own health.
Miguel could hardly recognize the man staring back at him in the mirror. He let out a small gasp when he stuck his hand out, his reflection meeting him halfway. Was this what he had become? His eyes lacked any signs of energy, dark circles ringing underneath. He wasn't even sure when was the last time he managed to sleep more than twenty minutes at a time. His stubble was in patches, a couple splotches of red skin from the scratching he had been doing. He couldn't take looking at this stranger anymore. He punched the mirror out of fury, the pieces shattering below him.
What haunted him the most about looking down at those pieces is that he still saw the reflection of that stranger looking back at him.
After doing some extensive research on all the chemicals that Rapture contained, he came to a conclusion that he already knew at the back of his head. There was no way to break the addiction, not without death involved at least. The drug was unlike any others that he'd seen, the chemical components much higher than some of the hardcore drugs on the market. It changed his genetic makeup to the point where he needed the drug as much as he needed oxygen to breathe. Even slow withdrawals from the drug was a guaranteed death. Every treatment was futile against said drug.
Miguel didn't even want to think about what Mr. Stone was capable of doing if he caught whiff that he was trying to break loose from the viscous cycle he was in. He seemed so eager to get Miguel to take the drug, surely he must've known what effects the drug would take on his body. All the research that he did was on a private network in the safety of his apartment, where he could keep the information safe. He'd come up with one final conclusion, that he needed to change his genetic component back to what it was before getting hooked on Rapture.
Maybe he shouldn't have been so cocky in his own abilities. He really should've done more research on what the dangers of altering his DNA would be. Though, anything would be a relief from the constant nagging in his head for more. More. More. More. The straps on the side of the capsule he was standing in secured him into place, a low hum from the machine next to him indicating that it was ready to start. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, all while hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Though, anything would be better than what he was going through right now.
Aaron truly didn't expect anyone else to be at the lab at this hour, even the workaholics at the lab had their limits. He was there to pick up a couple files that he needed for one of the reports Mr. Stone had asked for, but how could he possibly miss out on this opportunity that just presented to him so perfectly? Even through the green rays of the machine, he could see Miguel O'Hara standing there in his full glory. Attempting not to grimace from the burning sensation coursing through his very veins. Oh, how'd he dreamed of this moment.
All the times Miguel poked fun at him, the times that he'd belittled his work, and all the times that he'd managed to outshine him were the perfect motivation for Aaron to code spider DNA into the system. See how he likes that. The studies on animal DNA altering humans wasn't promising, a 99.999% mortality rate as of yet. He didn't care. Nobody would find out about what he'd done, he knew Mr. Stone would remove all the security footage if it came to that point. He amped up the machine to the max, staring at the capsule eagerly.
Agonizing screams followed soon after Aaron departed from the scene, a traitorous laugh escaping from his throat upon realizing what he'd done. "AARON!" Miguel's yells echoed into the steel hallways, bouncing off the walls though Aaron was less the wiser. It was truthfully the best melody that Aaron had heard in his life, hearing one of the men he hated the most cry out for help without actually receiving any aid. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Miguel's voice was raw from the screaming he'd been doing. The machine beeped loudly, indicating that the genetic splicing was now finished.
Miguel stepped out of the chamber, wobbling and stumbling through the laboratory floor before touching what he assumed was a table. He gripped the edges of the table, blinking rapidly to ease the blurriness that clouded his vision. Everything felt odd. His body didn't feel like it belonged to him, it felt like it belonged to some monster. Long claws protruded from his fingers, scratching the table the harder he tried to hold onto. He ran his tongue through his teeth, letting out a small groan upon feeling a sharp sensation on the side.
Fangs..? No, he must be daydreaming. Some after effect of long term exposure to Rapture. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to wake up from this torment, he remained still. Footsteps pattered in the hallways, a reminder that someone else had been witness to this situation. Miguel ran faster than he was ever able to, tackling Aaron onto the ground in a matter of mere seconds. Miguel gripped Aaron's arms above his head, paying no attention to the sound of ripping flesh. All that Miguel knew is that he needed answers and he needed them now.
"What the hell did you put in me?!" The accusation didn't come out the way he expected it to, a lisp in his words. Aaron winced in pain from the prickles that Miguel was inducing with his claws, a self satisfied smirk on his face at seeing what he'd managed to reduce the man to nonetheless. "ANSWER ME!" Miguel's voice boomed through the empty hallways, echoing throughout the dead of night. He swore that the vein throbbing in his forehead was about to pop the second that he saw Aaron laughing.
Miguel tossed Aaron to the side without any regard to where he landed, going back to the lab to look for any hints of what Aaron had coded into the system. He went back to the previous code, seeing that some form of spider DNA had been entered into the system. He shouldn't even be alive right now. Not when all the other people who'd gone through this procedure morphed into a version of the creature before ultimately exploding. His head was spinning with the realization, not even bothering to notice the fact that he didn't need the drug anymore.
He looked down at his phone, his finger hovering above your contact name as he debated on whether or not he should call you. Before he got the chance to make a decision though, police sirens blared loudly out of the building. The sound seemed to rattle his head, his ears all too sensitive to the sound. Miguel got down on his knees, pressing his hands to his ears in hopes that it would alleviate with the pain. It did not. All he could do was hope that the sound would soon go away while he curled up into a ball.
"NYPD! Come outside with your hands up!" A man's voice boomed through a loudspeaker. Miguel looked around, trying to find a way out of the facility. He could hear the boot stomps from the first floor, every possible exit blockaded by the police. So he did the most logical thing he could think of. He jumped out of the window and swung? Wait, what? Sure enough, he looked down at his wrists to see a small pocket shooting out white webs. Though, he really should've been paying more attention to the sights in front of him.
THUMP
He crashed face first into a building, a measly web falling from his wrist next to him.
taglist 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @nixinluv02 @hislastbimbogff @lizaistewdelulu @swiftiegirliepop @1800-get-alife @cl3stevu @mvlanchqly @tomalymme @boringpersonality @laysmt @scaryplanetdestroyer @crimin4llyins4ne @cheerrioeoz @peachey-pie @scaleniusrm @simpinonyouz @lauraolar14 @nediks @ayamaiis @iheartlinds (unsure if y’all still wanted to be tagged again so i just did. but pls lmk if you wanna b removed 🙏🏼)
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pineapple || james potter
pairing: james potter x reader
1,219 words, teacher and james go on their first date! what could go wrong?
a/n: can you tell i am horrible at titling my fics... somehow i just need it to relate to what happens. so uh. enjoy!
prev. chapter
You feel your heart going absolutely crazy. You know it's first-date jitters, but somehow it feels worse this time. It's nothing special, really. You try to tell yourself. Just another first date. Just like other first dates (that has turned to nothing...) And now this first date is the father of one of the children you teach. Yeah, nothing special.
After several attempts to make yourself busy by looking at your phone, you hear your name. It's James and he's walking up to you.
"First name basis already?" you ask smugly.
He chuckles, "What? Sorry, I guess I'll just call you-"
"Please don't, I hate being called that outside of work."
"Got it."
The two of you walk together and he leads you to a quaint coffee shop, James swears by the coffee made here. When the orders are made you find a seat and sit down.
"It's been a while since I've been on a date," he says, hands fidgeting with the receipt.
"Same here," you admit.
He stops playing with the receipt and furrows his brows. "Really? But I'm the parent."
"And I'm the one taking care of your kid for a whole day, 20 kids, actually."
"Huh... and you don't even meet people in the industry?"
You snort. "Unfortunately no, a lot of them are older and married with kids. There's no one to date there. Trust me, even the older teachers try to make me get on dating apps. If anything, you're doing them a favour."
He grins that grin that makes your heart do a little flip. Oh god, it's happening, huh?
"I'm happy to do that."
You continue your conversation, keeping it light with small talk. Then, a waiter comes by to give you your meal and you both thank him. James' phone dings, he checks the message and he replies to it while you patiently wait for him.
He looks back up at you and keeps his phone. "Sorry, my best friend is taking care of Harry today, he was just sending an update."
"That's alright. Is he doing okay?"
"Harry?" he asks, looking a little nervous. His arms are resting crossed on the table. "Uh- yeah. He's fine. Not so sure about Sirius. He just said he's letting Harry use his tattoos as a colouring book."
You laugh. "Yeah, I can see that. He does love to colour. Have you always wanted to be a father?"
James looks stunned, but laughs it off. "Not a normal question for the first date, is it?"
"Well since you already are one," you shrug.
James thinks for a while before answering. "Yeah... I've always wanted kids... Well I'm sure you've seen from the documents I sent to the school when Harry enrolled. I'm widowed..."
You nod, you do in fact know this, you had read through those documents for every child. Understanding their family structure and dynamics can be a big help in understanding the child and improving their development in school and at home.
"She uh- had complications at birth and didn't make it." He let out a sigh and shrugged. "So now it's just me and Harry. And I wouldn't trade him for the world.
"You really love him, don't you?"
"I do."
"You know you can talk about him, right?"
James looks down and purses his lips. "It's just that... other people I've dated weren't really... keen on the fact that I have a kid. You know, another person's child and all."
You tilt your head down to try and make eye contact with him. Somehow, your hand reaches out to his. "You know that doesn't matter to me, right? I already knew you had a son, hell, I even taught him for a whole year, and I still accepted your date."
His mouth forms a small frown, but his hand grabs yours anyway. "I just didn't want to seem weird."
"You're not. Promise," you give his hand a squeeze.
"Is it too early to want to kiss you?"
You both stare at each other for a second before you burst out laughing, making him laugh too.
James starts to tell you about Harry, and visibly gets more comfortable the more he does it. He tells stories from his first words to potty fails. He shows videos and pictures. From there, the both of you fall into an easy rhythm of branching from topic to topic in your conversation. You exchange bites of your food. Before you know it, you're laughing while your meal is long done and you're both on your second cup of coffee.
For some reason, you feel an itch in your throat.
Nonchalantly, you ask, "Did your pasta have pineapple?"
"Yes, why?"
"Firstly, who the hell puts pineapple in pasta? Secondly, I think I'm having an allergic reaction."
James sits up in a panic. "Oh god- I'm so sorry-"
You cough into your first. "It's fine, it usually doesn't react as bad as it used to but I like to stay away from pineapples anyway. I'm not gonna die. Can you get me some cold water, please?"
He immediately stands up and gets you a glass from the counter. You down the glass in seconds and you feel better.
"I'm so sorry that was embarrassing-"
"You're sorry? I gave you a bite!"
"I forgot to ask, it's my fault."
He gently places a hand on your shoulder. "I'm so sorry, let me make it up to you"
"James, trust me, it's fine-"
"I'll bring you on a second date."
You furrow your brows. "You just saw me cough my lungs out from an allergic reaction and you still want to bring me out?" you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness.
"I mean... I still find you attractive after all that so if you find me attractive after I rambled about my own child to you though you have taught him for this past year I don't see why not."
At this point, you're pretty sure your cheeks hurt from all the smiling you've been doing the entire time.
Despite your protests, James insists on driving you home. When you reach the entrance to your apartment building, he tells you to wait before rushing out of the car to open the door to the passenger's side. You giggle and take the hand he holds out to you as you step out of his car.
He tugs the hand that is holding yours to make you face him. He's so close, you're desperately hoping your cheeks don't show how flushed you are.
"So... same time next week?" you suggest.
He nods. "No pineapples this time, guaranteed."
"And you're allowed to talk about Harry."
He beams at that, looking down and letting out a sigh before looking back at you. "Is it still too early to kiss you?"
"Yes, but for now I'll give you this," you press a kiss to his cheek. You slowly walk towards your building, your arms stretching until you gently let go when you're too far away. "I'll see you next week!"
And like that, you disappear into the building. James is left standing there, still in disbelief of the entire day.
He lets out a sigh, smiling, and gets into his car. He 's so excited to tell Sirius when he gets home.
a/n: if i'm being so honest i have zero idea how most allergies work so please don't get technical with me... also!!!! thank you so much for the love on part one eek i am on a roll i'm so happy to be writing this series.
taglist: @willows-lane @celosiastarr @nsr-15
#marauders x reader#marauders imagine#zee writes#james potter x reader#james potter imagine#james potter x you
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