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nevereverlandboys · 1 year

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Dare me once more (Part 2)

Y/N POV:

As they began to walk, Y/N slowly started to doubt if she could even trust the second in command due the lack of information about him. From what she heard he was no pleasant person to be around, so she was quite surprised about her own courage to accompany him.

With each step further she shook that frightful feeling off, and with a last turn back she made sure that no one saw her.

"Where are we going?" Y/N gave her best in hiding her burning excitement, hoping this would be no dumb idea. The second in command was a mystery himself, learning to know a place he liked might say something about him.

"It's a surprise." Felix gave back with a raspy chuckle, making a small game out of this. There was no turning back now, she already decided to come along. Y/N curiously watched his back as he shoved some branches aside, leading the way through the narrow bushes.

The cool breeze of the night was brushing past Y/N's skin, and the following shiver did not go unnoticed to the second in command. Without being asked he pulled his cloak from his shoulders and placed it over hers, revealing himself to her for the first time. His hair looked gray in the pale moonlight. They threw long shadows over his illuminated face, allowing to hide half of his expressions.

"Thank you." Y/N smiled up to him. "Are you always up that late at night?" She then asked and he gave a dry nod.

"It's the most adventurous time." Felix gave back with a soft smile. "Besides, I often have to patrol the island."

That must be lonely after all these years on Neverland and it did not really sound like fun. The second in command never opened up to someone, so his emotions were a big mystery, who could tell if he actually liked being alone. No boys dared to seize him up, no matter how careless Felix was. Was it out of fear or straight out respect towards their second in command? The girl almost forgot his title as she walked next to him, and that this was not any boy she accompanied but Pan's right hand himself. He had brought her onto patrol too, but no other girl or boy. Now he did it again. Y/N had to admit that interest towards him kept growing inside of her, but she was still not truly convinced that his feelings were mutual.

"Why bring me? What about the other boys and girls?" She asked with a frown, then replacing it with a brief smile in order not to seem too interrogating.

"I would rather be with you if I can." He said. No further explanation why. "Watch your steps." Felix then remarked, putting his flat hand against her to prevent another step forwards into a mess of big, tangling roots from the trees, their vines blocking the way. The second in command showed her a route through everything as if he studied the steps like a dancing choreography. Just as Felix left the tangling mess of trees and bushes, a small clearing was finally revealed hidden down the hills. She was rich with fruits and greens, large trees anchoring high up into the sky, encircling the rushing waterfall that crashed into a beautiful lagoon. But the most fascinating thing about this place were the flowers. Unlike daytime, that ocean of blossoms started to glow in a pinkish light, shimmering up into the sky, as if someone had set them on fire. It was beautiful. Y/N had to admit that she doubted Felix at first, but when she turned to him, the lost boy already gave her a goofy smirk.

"Wait for the best part." He grinned down at her with a wink, then grabbed for a stone to throw it far into the flower field. Her eyes followed the rock cautiously, not expecting anything wild. The second the stone hit the ground, her eyes widened in awe. The flowers revealed themselves to be a swarm of thousands butterflies, swiftly filling the night air like a burning storm, reflecting the moonlight with a sudden green-pinkish shimmering. Y/N looked at it in awe, her jaw slightly dropping as she just stared.

"Did I promise too much?" Felix purred teasingly, stretching his face closer to hers from aside. His ashen hair threw long shadows onto his face, sharpening his jagged features. He looked paler under the moonlight, as if he was a porcelain doll with a cracked face. The long scar running over his cheek up towards between his brows made Y/N burn inside to know where he got it from. The other girls were wrong to call this him ugly, and Y/N would lie to herself if he did not excite her somehow. The girl looked up to the second in command and when they locked eyes, she felt herself getting pulled deeper into his intense gaze. It was just like an invitation for another kiss. She could slightly feel his breath on her face, but just before the girl could say something, Felix leaned down. His face came so incredibly close, but instead of aiming for a kiss, he moved his head past her, to pick up a small flower. He looked at it as he twirled it between his fingers, and when he looked back at Y/N, he placed the flower in her hair. She could not resist letting out a satisfied hum, showing him how much she appreciated his actions.

"My little floret." Felix whispered just like a short breath, barely audible as he gently let the back of his fingers glide down her cheek in a light caress. Y/N felt her whole face heat up, that she almost believed she could light a wood stove with it. She was speechless.

"Thank you for bringing me here." Y/N said sheepishly, and when he wiped some hair behind her ears, the girl could feel her knees weaken again. Did he really mean it when he apologized for a kiss? Deep inside there was nothing else she wanted right now. She wanted to be lifted up by his strong arms again, just like he did back in her cottage, to hold her and just feel his touch. Felix seemed so brave to come to Y/N after what happened. Not just that the girls had mocked him, now the boys were seizing him up as well. What would have happened to him, if he was rejected by her? It was already impossible for Y/N to ever consider rejecting the tall boy, that's how anchored he was in the back of her had that quickly. The girl was a teenager after all, so was Felix. Now he had lived on this island for so long, but never had another girl seen him with a love interest before. Was it foolish to assume that Y/N could be the first? Maybe, but she really wanted to be his.

"Why did you apologize?" She suddenly asked, using her last piece of her firm voice to form the bold question. "Back at my hut, you apologized for kissing me. Why?"

Felix's ears reddened, and the corner of his lips sneaked up into a shy, nervous smile. "Weren't I supposed to?" He asked and pressed his brows together. Was he playing with her, or did he seriously not know?

"Do it again." It bursted out of the girl without thinking even for a second about it. When she did, Y/N held her breath as she looked up to the second in command, fearful about his response. Felix gave the girl a slow, conforming nod. Then he gently placed his hands on her shoulders, giving her an intense look, before his lips would part.

"I am sorry for kissing you." He said out firm, his gaze intense and serious. The girl wanted to sink into the ground. That was not what she asked for, and she questioned his interest towards her even further. This was not what she meant. He was so stupid and cute at the same time.

"Actually I want…-" She stopped. Was it really necessary to say it out loud?

"You want … what?" He asked innocently, his eyebrows pressed together once more. The boy could definitely not read the signs. Was there nothing easier he could ask her? Y/N had to save herself before she would mess up and embarrass herself. If he did not kiss her now by himself she could not put herself into the open like that.

"I-…eh, I just wanted to ask why you came to me in the middle of the night, again?"

Felix obviously blushed. "Isn't it obvious?" He asked with furrowed brows. She did not know, so it was definitely not obvious. The first idea that came to mind was him liking her again, more than just a liking. No matter how obvious things were, none of them seemed to grasp each other's intentions, and for a moment Y/N even accused him of playing dumb, just to tease her emotions out of her. She did not like games, but also feared to speak her thoughts out loud, in the end she could be wrong after all and just spiraled herself into negative thoughts.

"Wanda guards you like a dog."

He was right about that. "Actually it's not just Wanda, they all watch you like hawks. Can I have a chance to prove to you that I am not what they say I am without having them in our backs?"

"I don't listen to them. Not saying a thing just avoided drama-"

"-June and Wanda, I know." Felix interrupted with a frustrated sigh as if he knew that it was not worth messing with them after what they said when he had kissed Y/N. They would only ruin the mood or simsimply sabotage the relationship from the start. Y/N did not want that. They claimed he was ugly, but standing in front of him only gave Y/N a tingling sensation inside her guts. He was so beautiful with the scar. There was so much she did not know about him, but Y/N could already feel a crush starting to develop. How in the hell should she know why she loved his appearance, unlike the other girls, or why she found him so mysterious, or why she just wanted to get touched by him again? Maybe it was just the hormones of a teenage girl reacting to a boy her age, or it was indeed more, and the girl really started to like him.

Just kiss me! Stop talking and kiss me!

"Let's not tell them that you see me and I'll show you the best places myself!." Felix then suggested as he took a step aside to open his arms wide open.

So you are the adventure, Y/N thought and smiled with a confirmative nod. Felix started to grin like a happy child, before he strutted past her into the flower field where he took place . She copied him and sat down onto the ground, throwing little rocks around to watch the glowing butterflies arise into the dark air. Now matter how many times the girl would let them rise up, it would never get boring.

Y/N looked at Felix who reached more stones over to her, just to have him already staring at her with melting eyes. He leaned back, resting on his arms to get a better look.

"Will you write in your diary about me?" He teased jokingly.

"Only if you write about me in yours!" The girl teased back, and both glanced at each other with a wholesome laughter.

"I thought you girls all have one." Felix chuckled.

"I can't speak for the other girls." Y/N gave back with a shrug.

"I think they are cute." Felix said with a hum, the corner of his lips rising up to show some dimples.

"It's all cute until one of you boys have fun reading them out loud." Y/N gave back unconvinced and raised one of her eyebrows.

"Yeah?" Felix laughed and shook his head. Then he suddenly gave her an intense stare. "I would write pages down, just for you to read. My life shall be an open book for you."

"Just for me?" Y/N gave back, tilting her head over her shoulder to look up from under her brows in a skeptical manner. "-And for all the boys who read it out loud."

That would be a bad idea, considering that both wanted to let this stay a secret. Y/N liked the idea of sneaking around behind the other's back, giving her a rush of excitement running through her veins. He obviously did too.

"Then I have to make my adventures unforgettable instead. For that I need to know what you like."

"Only if you tell me about yourself."

Felix licked his lips and nodded. They started with the usual: favorite colors, animals, dishes and more, then the first personal informations were being shared: fears and dreams. Felix started to tell her a few stories from his adventures on the island, and Y/N moved a little closer to get some warmth, when Felix suddenly paused. His eyes narrowed down to the girl leaning against him to realise what was happening.

"Are you cold?" He had already given her his cloak and it was truly warm enough but Y/N needed an excuse for scooting closer. The boy did not hesitate to open his arms for her to nuzzle against his chest and she did not hesitate to lean in.

"Tell me about your best moment on Neverland." She filled the silence with a humming and closed her eyes for just a moment. The girl was not even tired, but she doomed herself with that comfortable position, feeling how her eyelids got heavier. She did not even hear a single word of his answer before she drifted off into a deep slumber.

Y/N woke up in the comfort of her own back. With tired eyes and hands groping over the blankets she made sure that this was no hallucination while wondering how she got here- or if she ever left in the first place!

Felix must have brought her back while she was asleep, so no other girl would notice her disappear. Or everything was just a wild, realistic dream and he was never in a flower field with her.

Y/N turned around to stretch, just to find a flower on her pillow- the one and only Felix had put in her hair the night before.

Not a dream.

The thought of him bringing her home was enough to give her butterflies. She pictured him carrying her in his arms through the night and felt her cheeks burn up. He could have woken her up, but for some reason decided against it. Y/N wanted nothing more than to see him again and ask him why. Maybe she only found the right excuse to look for him again. She got dressed and immediately went to search for him without raising any unnecessary suspicion, but the second in command was nowhere in sight. Before the chance to leave the camp was even optional, Violet suddenly came running towards her. The other girls were nowhere in sight.

"Hey, what are you doing all alone?" Y/N asked surprised. It was unusual of them all having tasks at the same time.

"A few boys ate something bad so the others got their tasks for the day. I got lucky because I just woke up. Pan also wanted some target practise for the less… talented ones."

"Rebecca?" Y/N asked with a sigh.

"You know that she isn't that good with bows," Violet mumbled, shamefully. "Or traps. Or knives-"

"Or anything at all?" The word sounded harsher than she meant.

"She can cook the meat, but she can't kill it. Nick thinks that is a problem, so does Wanda."

"And you think that's right?" Y/N huffed and Violet sunk her head. "I don't see what you love about Nick." She then slipped out without thinking about it. Violet shot her head back up and widened her eyes, "How do you know?"

"Please," She then added with shaking features. "Don't tell anyone! I promise I won't ever judge you for anything ever!"

Not even for liking Felix?

Y/N should stop with that rush of thoughts before her little crush would turn into something more. But how could she not like him after she even received her own nickname? It was more than Violet and Wanda ever got from Nick.

"He plays with you." Y/N replied. Violet turned away. It was simply a truth she was not ready to face yet.

"He can be so nasty, you know." Violet gave her a side-along gaze, seeking for confirmation that Y/N could not deny but give her within a small nod.

"Sometimes He is a nasty bitch." Y/N confirmed and both went silent. Then, suddenly, both bursted out in laughter. There was nothing more to talk about.

"It feels good to have someone to connect to." Violet hummed and received the same heartful sound. Then she turned on her heels and waved with her hand to follow.

"Let's get something to eat." She eagerly led them downhill to the boys' cooking cottage to get some ingredients for the breakfast. Inside the cabin was Simon and Felix. At the sight of him Y/N could feel the heat inside her body rise, hoping that no one paid attention to her face. Violet stopped for a second, but the shark-like eyes had already detected her, so she stepped further in.

"I-" Violet stopped and seemed trying to remember what she wanted to say, due incredible nervosity caused by his presence alone. "Can you step aside?"

Felix looked behind him to the cabinet, then back to the red haired girl before he would step aside with a polite bow.

"You can take some meat that I dried yesterday." He offered. Violet just stared at him full of surprise, not knowing how to react after never really speaking to him.

"Eh…yeah, sure, thanks a lot, Felix." She then said and quickly took everything else she needed. On the way outside she looked at Y/N with widened eyes, wider than usual, forming with her lips a soundless, "What was that?"

Y/N shrugged and strutted back uphill to their own cottages. For her it was clear that the second in command intended to be nice, especially after witnessing the girls' dislike towards him after the game. Stupid game, without it they would not have bothered about him any further, right? On the other hand, Y/N would never have taken interest in him that quickly. Felix had not caught her eye for the first time that night, so it was not a matter of an if, but rather a question of when.

"He was so… nice." The other girl said so surprised that Y/N wondered if she really thought it was uncommon for others to witness this.

"What do you mean?" Y/N laughed without really talking her words seriously, but at the sight of her startled face she stopped. Violet was truly started.

"When I first got here, Wanda was already here for years. She told me that Felix is dangerous and vile, that he would hurt other people for fun and every word he said was poison. She described him as this savage monster that would smite everyone looking his way. Truth be told-" Violet came closer and looked intensely at her with a tilted head,"-I was scared shitless."

Sounded just like Wanda. She loved to exaggerate and spread rumors. They might have started on the wrong foot and the chubby girl never forgave him for that. Y/N looked down to the path leading to the camp and shook her head. "No. I don't want to believe that."

"I won't judge you, but beware, I saw his violence with my own eyes. Nothing you really liked."

No, probably not, but there was a reason why Pan made him second in command and not any of the other violent, stupid boys. There was more behind it than just being strong and brutal. The second in command was surely strong, but he also had the wits to make it through on this forsaken island. No one was better trained or better skilled to be teamed up with the green dressed, elvish-looking brat. They left the conversation at that and changed the topic to Y/N's satisfaction. It was not like she did not want to talk about Felix, but she was not ready to open up about her true emotions about him yet. Besides, Y/N did not know if a relationship with him would even work out. During the afternoon Y/N grabbed for her books again, hoping that the second in command would show up to make her day a little bit more thrilling. Violet went into the woods to find the perfect branch that she could shape into a spear, so the moment would have been perfect. There was no sight of him but the burning desire to see him again bothered the girl so much that she could barely focus on the pages. Within every paragraph she stopped and fell into a daydream that lasted a few minutes until she would keep reading again and repeat that cycle all over again. Just as the sun slowly made its way down, the other girls returned from their tasks to join the dinner that one of the boys prepared. Y/N hoped that this was the chance to see the second in command again and maybe find a way to meet him afterwards. Felix was nowhere near the dinning tables, so Y/N kept looking while Violet was busy stuffing her mouth with potatoes. After a short moment Y/N stopped searching. Felix had started to avoid big gatherings since the game, so it was no surprise that Y/N did not see him at the table or anywhere inside the camp. The lost boys had started to pick on him and joined the girls’ gossip, mostly badmouthing his looks. They were glad to finally have found something that might have given them an emotional reaction. Cocky little bastards. It was all fun and games to bully, as long as none of them was the target. Wanda would always start and just like predators the boys would jump right onto it and join. Most of them had nothing better to do, others were just plain pieces of shit.

"He gave me this creepy stare all the time during training." June started the slander of the evening with such a small statement.

"If I were Felix I would cry when looking in a mirror." Ben snorted out in response. He was not attractive either with pimples and crooked teeth.

"Yeah, how would I ever get pussy with that face?" Another one joined, he was uglier than the other in addition to his bad hygiene.

This evening it was not any better than the other ones. With the second in command absent it only got worse, the insults wilder and more creative. There was nothing better to do for them anyway, and after so many bad experiences with Felix, most boys seemed to be happy to have found a new passion. Y/N stared at her plate in best effort to focus on her meal and ignore the badmouthing around her. She bit her tongue, wanting to stand up for him, but fearing the others reaction way too much.

"I bet he stinks," June crackled and gently stubbed Wanda with her elbow. "He doesn’t look like he bathes often."

Y/N bit her tongue and took a quick sip of water not to show any expressions, but deep inside she was raging. The assumptions got to her mind and for a second she felt an urge to defend him and tell the girls the truth, but then she realized how everyone's eyes would be on them- not just now, but always. Besides she was not ready to tell Felix what she felt and making a scene would reach his ears. Maybe it was not such a bad thing after all. If fear were not stronger, she thought and sunk her head back to the plate.

"He does look somewhat like a Neanderthal." Wanda said and lifted her nose as if she was proud of her comment.

"With that stupid club of his definitely!" June laughed.

"He is also rude and savage like one." Wanda added.

"He was actually nice to me today." Violet suddenly blurted out excited about her new experience, just to have Wanda roll theatrically with her eyes. She looked over to June who returned a disbelieving face. Y/N watched the scene and as she did more rage filled her guts.

"He must be desperate." She said and shook her head and stuck her fork into her food, ignoring Violet like she never said anything.The red haired girl pressed her lips together and sank her head, losing any of her sudden joy. With that the gossiping about the second in command stopped. Y/N was glad for that. She would rather spend another night with him than stay all evening in the camp with nasty lost boys and mean girls. It was better for him not to be around, for Y/N was not sure if his presence would stop any of them from letting some rude comments slip. Once they were done eating, Wanda, June and Rebecca went back to their cottages. There was no energy left in them to attend the camp and the boys were just too loud. Y/N barely ate, neither did Rebecca. She looked tired and drained.

"I think I will go straight to bed." She let out a yawn and stretched herself before she rose from her seat. The tall girl would go to sleep, but Wanda and June could return, so Y/N had to be careful. The lost boys could also be troublesome, so she needed to make up a plan to meet up with him again without anyone's awareness. Y/N turned her head and tried looking for the second in command again, hoping that he would be in the camp by now. To her surprise he sat near the bonfire already staring at her. Once she was caught looking for him, the corner of his lips crept up into a smug grin. Y/N immediately turned her head away in embarrassment. She had been too obvious, and she wondered about how long he might have stared at her until she found him, or if the others noticed him returning to the camp. None of the boys stopped gossiping and maybe they just did not care. More reason to let this stay a secret. Y/N avoided his burning gaze and shifted her head over to Violet, hoping that she would find a reason to leave her side soon. As long as she was by her side it was impossible to go and talk to the second in command, something she wanted to do more than anything else. Y/N could feel his eyes burning holes into her, and she grew more impatient with each second passing by. The day had stretched out so long in the afternoon, so how hard could it be to get some time for herself? A simple excuse could be the key, or the truth to tell her that she needed time alone was reason enough.

"He is coming here." Violet suddenly grinned and looked at Y/N, nodding over towards the bonfire. Y/N froze, then looked up, just to see Nick strutting towards the two girls. With an relieved breath the girl let her head sink and ignored the meager lost boy that probably came only for Violet.

"What are you two up to?" He asked with a short wink towards the red haired girl. "Busy? We're playing some games down the river if you want to join.."

Y/N shook her head, but finally she was getting rid of her friend. There was no chance Violet would miss going with her crush, besides, it was obvious that the boy invited Wanda too, or planned to. Y/N was never really sure if he just acted innocently kind, or if he simply played with both girls just to see how far he would get. Probably the second thought.

"Sure we would love to!" Violet hummed excited and turned with glistening eyes towards Y/N.

"She would love to." Y/N did not really feel like playing games, besides that this would be the perfect way to get rid of her friend. Violet grinned at her with a thankful wink, leaving her all alone at the table. Once they walked off, Y/N's eyes immediately shifted over to Felix' seat, just to see it completely empty. She kept looking but there was no sign of him. Filled with disappointment, she rose herself and strutted out of the camp uphill to read in her cottage. Halfway up she suddenly heard some rustling in the bushes. First the girl did not pay any attention, but when little rocks landed in front of her feet she stopped and turned to investigate what was going on.

"Felix?" She recognized his features. He shushed her and waved with his hands to signal that she should step behind the protective barrier of trees and bushes. "What are you doing?

"I thought it would be more secure from unwanted eyes this way, and I could not wait for the night to see you again." He whispered with a dark, raspy voice.

"You brought me back yesterday. Thanks for that." Y/N answered in a warm tone and smiled up to him.

"Yeah I just wondered why you wanted me to stay." He blurted out with a deadpan face. Y/N on the other side could feel her eyes widen without any self-awareness. Her facial reaction slowly broke through Felix's facade, clearly raising doubts in him.

"Wait-" Y/N slightly shook her head in denial. " I can't remember anything after falling asleep on you."

"But we kissed last night!" Felix blurted out confused, furrowing his brows and looking unsure around as if he could escape this uncomfortable situation he got himself in. Y/N gave him a startled look.

"When?'' She blurted out with the same confusion. "I can't remember."

Felix already saw in her face that he had said too much and that he should not have said something in the first place. He went paler than the moon above, not knowing how to stop making it worse.

"After I brought you back to your bed. You were asleep and…." While he said it, the second in command quickly realized how creepy he must have sounded and stopped mid sentence, looking down at the lost girl with big eyes.

"You kissed me while I slept?" Y/N asked with a sly grin. This was interesting.

"No! Eh, well yes… But only because you told me to!" He squealed out anxiously with terror in his eyes.

"But how could I tell you when I was asleep?" Y/N kept teasing innocently. He would not kiss her simply because she told him to. Felix was not a desperate type of boy, or else he would have tried a move on a girl before.

"I don't know… but you did!" Felix whined out, frustrated in fear of losing more control over this situation than he already had.

"So you can kiss me while I sleep, but you can't when I am awake? She claimed, teasing him a little bit more. Felix was not able to respond properly, the only thing that left his mouth was inaudible stammering of denial.

"Kiss me then." Y/N commanded firmly, interrupting his nervous stammering.

"What?" Felix froze in place. The girl stepped closer, her eyes glistening in the dark.

"Kiss me just like in that stupid game." Y/N commanded and placed her hand against his chest. His heart was pumping loud and clear against his rips, vibrating through his skin to her palm. The most relaxing tune. Felix stared at her, eyes widened and mouth agape. He parted his lips to say something, but choked on his words once more. This time he could bring out no words.

"Well, I-" He slightly shifted back to get some space, just to have her close the distance even more, their hips almost touching now.

"Felix…" She pleaded at him with big eyes, causing him to swallow hard. It was like a little game to Y/N, a game that he hopefully played along. The thought of him kissing her while she slept woke something inside the lost girl. It burned a thousand times stronger than her curiosity, like a million suns ready to explode. She wanted him, the second in command, the beast of Neverland and hand of Pan. It was him who she wanted to give herself to. At the sound of her voice, Felix could not resist closing the gap between them, slowly shifting forwards and leaning in. Then, suddenly mid-move, he stopped as if he seemed to catch himself again."Can we at least go somewhere-"

"Y/N!" Wanda's voice echoed down the hill. "Violet? Where are you two?"

They both froze in place. That Felix was unamused was an understatement. He was really not fond of Wanda for her behavior towards him, so he quickly stalked away before she would detect him and cause any drama for the both of them. It allowed Y/N to step out of the bushes and walk up the hill before Wanda came close enough to get suspicious.

"Oh there you are." She smiled. Her eyes scanned the area, hopefully not detecting the second in command hushing through the darkness. "Where is Violet?"

"Violet went with Nick down to the river." Y/N answered honestly, well aware that it would probably cause a bad reaction, but gave her peace to be alone.

"Snake." Wanda hissed and squinted her eyes, yanking her head away. She wanted her own truth, but in the end it probably meant nothing.

"Well, you're stuck with me then. Rebecca and June went to bed early.”

"I wanted to get some rest too." Y/N lied quickly and furrowed her brows together in guilt. “Headache.”

"Oh…" The chubby girl said. "Get well soon."

Y/N nodded before she walked off uphill. There was just something better in mind to do, and she knew that Felix would probably return once she was all alone. She waited inside her cottage until most of the boys would go to sleep and the darkness roamed on the island. With a burning light of a candle she hoped to signal the second in command that she was still awake and waiting, trying to eavesdrop on every sound that alerted his arrival. Nothing happened. Time went by and the lost girl still sat all by herself, feeling how her limbs got weaker every minute until she finally decided to call it a night.

#felix ouat #ouat felix #ouat felix imagine

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gigantomachy1916 · 2 years

Note

Thank you for replying to the previous post about Lawmane! I thought your opinions on the difference between an author's intent and a fan's interpretation was very interesting. I've heard before that L was meant to be mysterious, and it definitely shows. Fan interpretations of him differ wildly. Some people think he's an awful person, some think he's alright, some think he's a great person. Since the authors imply he's a frequent liar and actor, similar to Light, it's nearly impossible to truly know what is going on in his head. It's even more difficult than understanding Light because we are never given insight into L's line of thought. We are left to guess how much of it is an act, and what is the truth. Some people think L is just as bad of a person as Light is, he just hasn't had an opportunity that forced him to do so yet. Some people think L's sense of justice is just as strong as Light's sense of justice, while others think L only cares about winning games. The constant mystery around certainly makes him interesting, that's for sure. I think the constant ambiguity around him is what makes it so easy for fans to imagine him with all sorts of opinions. A lot of fans thought L genuinely liked Light, but the Death Note: How to Read novel by the creators stated that L disliked Light. That in turn contradicts the notion thought that L only cares about winning games, and nothing more. Personally, I think many different interpretations of L are interesting. It's pretty easy for me to imagine him with different opinions because we're almost never allowed to know what's truly going on inside L's head. What do you think? How do you interpret L's morality or "sense of justice"?

I am loving these asks tbh. One of my family members is actually an ethical philosopher so I have a lot of thoughts on this topic. Be ready for an absolute essay of an answer.

I think the divide we between L and the task force members, and between the idea of whether L is a bad person or an icon of justice, is actually a divide between two popular ethical systems: virtue ethics and utilitarianism.

Virtue ethics focuses on the type of person that someone is, the actions that they take, the motivations for those actions, and the (positive and negative) values that they possess--regardless of their actual impact on the world. I think that a virtue ethicist would consider L a bad person, because he is clearly willing and able to do bad things, to lie and hurt others and to allow people to die for the sake of catching Kira.

On the other hand, from a utilitarian perspective, L would be seen in a better light, as all of his actions are taken in order to catch Kira, something that would prevent a large number of deaths in the future. In fact, to a utilitarian, it wouldn't even really matter if L is motivated by justice or by wanting to "win" the game against Kira. The only thing that would matter was the outcome of his actions: did L, in trying to catch Kira, prevent more suffering and deaths than he caused?

For what it's worth, I do think that L is somewhat motivated by justice. He might care about winning, but his choice of game, catching Kira, shows that he does care about helping people to some degree, and the fact that he calls out Kira as wrong for killing criminals shows that he sees human life as inherently valuable, even those who are seen by society as worthless.

That said, L has a very different ethical system than, for example, the men of the task force. Again, it's utilitarianism vs. virtue ethics. Soichiro and Matsuda and the others follow more conventional, virtue-based morality and are upset by L being willing to let the Yotsuba Kira keep killing or to use prisoners to test the notebook. To them, it's always wrong to let someone die if you have the power to prevent it, no matter the consequences, because a virtuous person would not do that.

L's beliefs are more clearly utilitarian and based in a logical weighing of outcomes: he is willing to take actions that others see as morally repugnant (like the stuff I mentioned before, plus torturing Misa and imprisoning Light, lying, etc.) in order to catch Kira, because catching Kira means that fewer people will die in the long run. To L, the ends absolutely justify the means.

Many people will agree with utilitarian values in principle if they are explained well, but unlike L, most people probably wouldn't have the stomach to torture someone or to let others be killed. For instance, the men of the task force are the types who couldn't live with themselves if they made choices like that.

L, on the other hand, seems very comfortable with his choices, and I think that speaks to a lack of empathy in him. His ethical system might be based on a belief in the value of human lives in theory, and he does devote his life to catching those who harm others, but when it comes to seeing actual humans suffering due to his actions, he doesn't seem to experience guilt or discomfort. And he does not seem to be able to connect with others; he is portrayed as rude and impatient with those who are mentally slower than himself, and mostly treats others as tools he can use for his own goals, just like Light does.

It seems to me like he's aware of this quality in himself, especially with what he says about being a monster. I think it's probably something that he's ambivalent about. On the one hand, this detachment allows him to make the hard calls that other people can't, and by doing so, he can help more people in the long run. I think this is what he means when he says "I am justice": there's the saying that "justice is blind," that it's supposed to be cold and impartial and logical, not swayed by emotional appeals.

On the other hand, humans aren't really designed to be perfect robotic instruments of justice, and to make oneself so immune to the seeing or causing pain in other human beings doesn't seem to me to be a healthy way to exist in the world. And it's not something that's well-regarded by others.

Most people find it off-putting when someone is cold, rational, and unempathetic, and I think that someone who can torture others without remorse would be considered a bad person by most people, even if they are doing it for a good reason. The task force members certainly react to L in this way, and it seems like he's used to this reaction from others and accepts that he's going to be considered a bad person or a monster in the eyes of others.

It's unclear to me whether he dislikes this part of himself, or if calling himself a monster is only a recognition of the way that other people perceive him. In either case, it's clear that L knows that he's an outlier, not only in his intelligence but in his ability to act coldly and ruthlessly for what he believes is the greater good, but he believes that a person like him is necessary to protect the world from Kira.

Interestingly, I think Light is very similar: he's someone who is able to disconnect himself from his empathy in order to act in accordance with his own abstract principles. Like L, he thinks he is acting for the greater good, killing criminals to create a world without crime where no one hurts anyone else. Their main disagreement is about whether Kira's methods will lead to more or less suffering in the world.

On the other hand, it's clear that there are other motivations underlying Light's actions. His sense of morality is somewhere in between the extremes of L and the task force members. He wants a world without suffering, but at the same time, he takes pleasure in the deaths of criminals and the fear he inspires, because he believes that human lives have different worth based on the virtues those people possess, with criminals at the bottom, the general public somewhere in the middle, and himself at the top.

Also, Light is clearly motivated by a desire for power over others and a sense of superiority, which he covers up under the belief that he is doing what is necessary for the greater good. In my experience, people who are extremely intelligent, like Light and L, are not necessarily more self-aware or ethical than anyone else. They are just better at coming up with rationalizations in order to act the way they already want to, while convincing themselves that they are in the right.

And that's why I think L, while not necessarily wrong, is someone who would be quite dangerous in the real world. I wouldn't really identify myself as a utilitarian or virtue ethicist, but I think that a person who is disconnected from the suffering of others is a potentially dangerous person. Humans are social creatures, and we're meant to care about each other.

L's ability to put his humanity aside for the sake of the greater good is only a good thing as long as he's correct about what the greater good is, and we can see from Light that it's very easy for someone of their levels of intelligence and social isolation to convince themselves that they are right, when they are really acting out of more selfish desires like the drive for power or the desire to "win."

In my opinion, we see L sometimes driven to more ruthless methods than necessary as his frustration and desire to defeat Light grows. Even if he's on the right side, that doesn't mean that his methods are automatically correct--we can see that he is still able to catch Higuchi after Soichiro puts his foot down and refuses to let L sacrifice additional lives. Taking the most ruthless path forward is not always necessary, but L isn't willing to place restrictions on himself, even ones like preventing deaths, unless forced to by others.

Because of L's lack of empathy, he's just not inclined to put much effort into looking for ways to catch Kira that reduce the suffering of others along the way. He takes the most direct and effective path, even if there might be another way. He's different than others because he's lacking the restrictions most humans have, the feeling of wrongness we experience when we see others hurting. Because of this, he's an extremely effective tool for justice, but one without any restraint, and while that gives him an edge against Kira that others don't have, it makes him a very dangerous person.

#death note #l lawliet #my thoughts #ask response

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chimtaesty · 2 years

Text

broken laws PART TWO ; jk!hybrid au

pairing: jungkook x reader / 1.3k words

warning: angst, fluff, strong language, trauma

plot: Jungkook is a hybrid in the sex club Euphoria. After a police raid, led by you, he takes his chances and searches for help. Will you help him or turn him in like the law says?

A/N: hi! I'm back in the game.

masterlist ; navi ; story masterlist

The sun danced over your face as a quiet knock drove you to open your eyes. You sighed and turned around, the sun burning in your eyes. The door swung open, a barely noticeable breeze swooshed over the covers as Jungkook made his way inside.

“Y/N?” he spoke, silently. He tried to talk as gently as possible. Your eyes opened slightly as you searched for the source of the voice. The sight of a man in front of your bed startled you slightly before the memories flooded back into your mind.

“JK, what’s the matter?” you asked, your hand combing through your hair as he faced you, ears laid flat on his head, frightened you might’ve changed your mind. He fidgeted with his thumbs as he tried to start the conversation. “If you’re hungry, there’s a bunch of-”When are you going to turn me in?” he cut you off. You sat up fully now, hand once more brushing through your hair as you huff.

That was something, you had just woken up.

“JK-”I understand if you don’t want me here.” he spoke again, gaze glued to the ground as he waited for you to kick him out, to give him an ultimatum. His thumb started to hurt as he ripped a piece of skin off, sticking the bleeding phalanx into his mouth as he waited for your answer, your statement of sorts.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you rubbed your eyes as you pushed the blanket off your feet. “I never said anything about turning you in.” You walked past him to the bathroom.

He just stood there, eyes wide as he looked at the wooden floor. What did you mean? He would be here, unlawfully. You’d be a criminal. He couldn’t grasp what you told him or why in the name of god you weren’t going to turn him in.

“Are they good?” you spoke, breaking the icy silence between you two. His eyes met yours as he chewed away on his eggs. “What?” you pointed your fork at his plate. “The eggs.” you simply replied. He only nodded and silently answered. “They’re very good.”

You sipped away at your coffee, he gradually drank his warm milk. “What kind of hybrid are you, actually?” your eyes didn’t meet his as you read through today's newsletter. Jungkook's hand scratched the back of his neck as he started to explain himself. “I’m a cashmere lop bunny.” You grinned at him as you chuckled. “Cute.” you almost whispered but he had heard it. His cheeks turned a light pink, ears twitching as he had to grin himself.

He somehow really enjoyed the fact that you had called him cute.

“Tell me about yourself.” You spoke, disturbing the silence between you two. Jungkook and you had sat yourselves out on your balcony, enjoying the sun. You didn’t open your eyes as you waited for him to answer. “There’s not much about me.” he sighed, you opened your eyes to look at him.

He was beautiful. The way his hair fell over his forehead looked pretty, he was way too pretty. His nose always scrunched up when he thought about something, he truly was a bunny by heart. “I was born and raised in Euphoria.” he started, putting his cup down on the wooden table between you two before his hands fell into his lap.

“My mother got pregnant with me while working at the club. Of course she shouldn’t have, having a pregnant hybrid meant no business.” he paused to pick at his thumb. “She no longer was allowed to serve the customers, not that anyone would like to spend a night with a pregnant hybrid.” you only looked at the ground as you listened to him speak.

“She had to give birth alone, and died while doing it.” He wiped his eyes, a small sniff leaving his frame. “The others at the club took care of me.” he took a sip of his cup before continuing. “Hyeun is the only one left, the other’s passed away. She was a good friend of my mother, promising to have me stay alive as long as possible.”

You turned towards him, head resting in your palm. “I’ve been serving customers since I was eleven. Hyeun is more or less my mother. She took care of me when no one would. She calls me Jungkook, I like that name.” he smiled a bit. ” He paused. “She was the one who told me to flee and seek your help.” You nodded as he turned to you, eyes watery.

“Your turn.”

You only shrugged your shoulders as you sighed. “My mum was a police officer as well, she died when I was thirteen. She was killed in service.” A small gasp left his lips as he saw how nonchalantly you spoke about it. “My dad and I were alone after that.” you pulled your legs to your chest as you continued to speak. “He wasn’t really my dad after she died, he died with her that day.” You took a sip of your cup. “He’s in a nursery home now, they’re taking good care of him there.”

“I took my exams and became a police officer myself.” you nodded to yourself.

“My aunt still calls me every year just to curse me out because I decided to become an officer too.” He shook his head. “She sounds obnoxious.”

“You have no idea”

“Why the hell do I have to come in at 2am?” You complained as you slammed your bag down on the table in the changing room. “There’s quite the mess-” Somi was cut off by distant yelling. You gave her a look, she only sighed as you made your way down the hallway. “There’s no one who gets people in order like you.” She spoke behind you. “Please do something about this.” Taeyong spoke, holding the door open for you. “I want to speak to your superior, you fucking asshole!” You took a deep breath as you approached Jaemins desk. He only gave you a pleading look, desperately wanting this man away from him.

The man grew quiet as you stared down on him, a death glare in your eyes. “Who-a-are-y-you?” he tried to bark, you only turned your head to the side, crossing your arms. The other officers glanced at you, relieved to have you at the station. The only one who didn’t almost sigh in relief as you made your way into the station was Chanmi, she rolled her eyes at the sight of you.

“Would you mind coming with me, since you requested his superior, Sir.” you spoke, calmly. He scrambled to his feet, following you to your desk. You sat down and took a sip of the energy drink Somi had placed on your desk a few minutes ago. “So you’re his superior, I have to file a complaint-''I'm not.” you looked at him as you took another sip.

His eyes widened. “What?” you only shrugged your shoulders. “I’m not his superior, I just had to get you away from him.” you chuckled a bit. “You would’ve given the poor boy a stroke, sooner or later.”

“This is unbelievable, I want-”No you know what, you’re going to calm down now. This is a police station, not the fucking circus.” you grabbed a pen and took another sip from the can. “Tell me why you’re here.” you demanded, the man huffing in response.

“That’s what i wanted to say that dumb cunt-”One more fucking insult and i’ll kick you out.” you threatened, rubbing your eyes. “It’s 2 in the morning and my day off, make it quick.”

He shook his head as he continued. “One of my hybrids-”I’ll stop you right there.” you held one hand up. “There’s an office that handles hybrid related crimes, Sir.” he shook his head. “He was kidnapped or something like that-”Sir, are you not listening to what I’m saying?” he only slammed his hand on your desk.

“Alright, give me his name and I'll forward it to the office, god jesus.”

“JK”

masterlist

#bts #bts jungkook au #bts hybrid imagine #bts hybrid!au #bts hybrid x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook hybrid au #jungkook imagine #fluff #angst #bts angst!au #bts fluff

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Note

May I request a Levi x Reader angst fic? Just barely any fluff, mostly angst going on lol. The reader is a traitor, formaly working for Marley, but betraying them in secret and putting their loyalty on Paradis. The reader is also a shifter and married to Levi for a couple of years. That love and care however is gone once readers identity is found. He truly despises them, insults them, maybe a bit violent with them, and outright tells them that they mean nothing to him anymore and hate them to bits. Readers punishment is to hand over her titan to Erwin, and they agree instantly, broken over everything, believing its all their fault. Once Erwin inherits Readers titan, he breaks down and screams, crying, because Reader was innocent the whole time. They never betrayed Paradis. Never killed anyone, never harmed anyone. They finaly know why they betrayed Marley, the abuse being to much for them, enough to just leave them behind for Paradis. Just... loving and caring as they all saw them. But now the damage is done. They wont come back, they're dead, believing that they died, hated and despised, with no one to mourn their death. Everyone regrets everything.

author note :: i was thinking of leaving this in my drafts but i already wrote it and may as well post it. it didn’t end up going the way i hoped but yeah i hope it’s ok anon. anyways ANGST. ANGST, ANGST. as always i love feed back :-) ⟹ all of the headings with the years are just meant to mean it’s a different moment from that year so those moments don’t happen right after each other i hope that makes sense!! word count :: 7.2k warnings :: canon typical violence, death

845, i.

Everything is falling in place when it shouldn't.

Sun never makes itself known in Liberio yet here it is shining down onto the bustling streets. You half expect for it to crash down and burn into the hundreds of civilians going about their daily business yet nothing of the sort happens. It's typical sunlight and you curse yourself silently for your sinister thoughts.

Secretly the voice at the back of your mind still whispers frantically but you don't wish to hear what it has to say. Instead you choose to drown it out with the sound of Zeke's voice. Finally deciding to pay attention to what it is he's been droning on about for the past ten minutes.

"Soon, soon, soon." He sighs dreamily looking a little delirious.

"Soon?"

Your question catches him off guard, he lightly shoves you with his elbow scoffing in annoyance.

"Did you sit here to not even listen to me?" He turns to take a sip of whisky and the hearty gulp he chugs shows his mild irritation. You assume he's been rambling on about Marley's plan to infiltrate Paradis. You have to admit that the idea of destroying those demons from the inside is amazingly well thought out. However it's all he's been able to discuss for the entire week now and frankly you're getting a little exhausted of it.

"I zoned out..." Quietly placing your glass back down onto the wooden counter you sigh closing your eyes. It's too early to be drinking and you don't trust Zeke enough to slip into ignorance and leave yourself vulnerable. Men are to not be trusted, especially Eldian men. The thought of Eldians triggers your flight of fight response, you want to shrivel up into a cocoon and never come out until the world is rid of the monsters. The lowest of the low, the dirt in between the crevices of Marleyan soldier's boots. That is what Eldian's are.

It's ironic coming from you, your entire family labelled as undesirable Eldians yourself but you, you know you're different. An honorary Marleyan is what you will become. What you are. The treacherous imps who are but an ocean away are the true evil.

Eyes flicking to Zeke he's lighting a cigar. Old habits die hard and he's yet to quit this self destructive custom of his. You couldn't care less if he chooses to cut his lifespan short by ten years, it's his own choice to make. A disgusting cowardly choice but it's a choice fit for an untamed man like him.

The Island Devils are said to be the bad apples but you can't help but stare at your fellow citizens from time to time and wonder what it is they could be hiding. If a demon slipped through the cracks you wouldn't be surprised. Sly in nature, persuasive in tone, that is how devils go about their daily lives alone The hymns they drilled into you all the way through elementary school echo and rebound in your mind.

Locking your bitter thoughts away you have to push yourself to not punt Zeke in the mouth when he teasingly blows a puff of hot smoke into your face.

Fingertips grazing with his he freezes at the sudden contact giving you the perfect opportunity to slip his cigar away and take it in between your lips. You allow for it to linger there but you aren't foolish enough to inhale its contents.

"Zeke, my dear friend. We shall soon be met with the fruits of our own labour but I assure you that discussing Marley's plan constantly will be of no benefit for you nor I."

The day you and Zeke had met had been at warrior training camp. Zeke was a miserable, unmotivated oaf. Always tripping and falling behind the rest of the warrior cadets. You felt rather bad for him, if you were born as unskilled as him you don't know what you would have made of yourself. Zeke, the only child of his parents ironically only ever ended up rising through the ranks after handing them over to the Marleyan government. His father and mother had been conspiring an escape plan but were executed immediately alongside their fellow team members once Zeke had outted them. Unexpectedly he was spared, the fact he turned on his own parents showed where his loyalties were. To his surprise, he was even allowed to continue his training with the other warriors - only this time everyone kept an increased distance away from him. The warriors weren't informed of what he had actually done but everyone had a gut feeling. Everyone apart from you stuck with that feeling. You thought strategically, If he were to become an enemy in the future you knew being close would come at your advantage.

The day you and Zeke had met your mother died, his mother passed away the same day. At least that's what he had told you.

The two of you bonded over the little things, told each other stories about your life at home. Reminisced about what it was you missed.

Then it all came crashing down the day Zeke confessed. The day he told you he killed his mother and father by handing them over to Marley. Your knees buckled underneath you, crashing the floor he tried to grab at you but you thrashed around in retaliation kicking and screaming not understanding why he did what he did. Yes, they were traitors but they were his parents and if the monster had the nerve to turn on the people who gave birth to him who's to say he wouldn't do the same to you or to Marley.

Zeke doesn't know it but ever since then you take the opportunity to sneak the occasional glance at him. Every single time you narrow your eyes in malice. If there's a man in Liberio who you don't trust in the slightest it's him, he must think the feud between the two of you from childhood has been put at rest but it hasn't.

Zeke takes another swig of his alcohol. On this occasion he downs it entirely slamming the glass down with vigour.

"ONE MORE GLASS BARTENDER!"

846, i.

Another day of extensive training is about to end, your back is layered in uncomfortable layers of sweat and the same can be said for your forehead. Kneeling down in the under layer of the forest you're hidden waiting to strike. Going up against the elites is nerve-wracking but you're sure you can pull it off so long as you stay calm during this game of hunters against prey.

It's simple enough if you can conceal yourself and stay out of sight. The robust trees that surround you act as decent enough camouflage and your green cape paired with them lets you veil yourself, keeping you further into the foreground, blending into the environment.

No one will be able to catch you if they can't see you.

All of a sudden your previous thoughts are thrown away when you sense something in the atmosphere has changed, the hissing of the wind behind you isn't natural.

Turning to your side you don't bother to cover up the sound of leaves rustling and branches cracking, your priority is slipping away fast enough to hide again, a tug can be felt at your cloak and your reaction time barely covers for you, your gear fastens itself to a low enough tree branch and the descent is mind numbing. Your breakfast churns in your stomach but you ignore the uneasy feeling, leaping and diving wherever you find a small enough gap. You believe you can outrun your huntsman.

That is until you sneak a glance back and your muscles nearly tense up in pure astonishment, you've been kicked in the teeth just by the man's presence. Captain, Levi slinks behind you weaving through the gaps with increasing speed, he's gaining momentum and all the while his face stays relaxed, this isn't even his full effort.

Terrified you dart upwards and then left, a corner comes into view - Levi should assume you've turned into it and so you rashly choose to dart back down. Much to your hard luck you find that his senses are well adapted, the direction of the wind is enough for him to trace your whereabouts.

The pursuit resumes, and he stays disturbingly relentless.

Arm shooting to the right you think perhaps making it look like you're aiming to fly somewhere else again will completely catch him off guard, he can't expect for you to pull the same trick twice.

Setting your plan into motion your finger pulls at the trigger but you startle when the cable doesn't come out, it's jammed. Panic seeps into you and to make matters worse your gas is running out.

Without warning you're thrust into the body of a nearby tree, the bark scrapes against you and scratches begin to form anywhere you've made contact with the jagged surface, you want to admit defeat but the warrior inside of you denies Levi the pleasure of seeing you beg. In its place you deliver a harsh kick to his thigh, you're aware he's injured it and you're certain there are no rules to say you can't play dirty. Your boots hammer against leg hard enough for him to give out and let go of your body, but then you realize you lost this game from the very moment your grapple hooks broke, you have nowhere to hold onto.

Before you can even let out a shriek of horror Levi's shot back to you, he frantically accelerates and by a miracle humanity's strongest is able to grab a hold of you again. This time you don't dig your heels into his leg and you allow for him to clutch you by the torso.

Within a minute the two of you descend towards the forest floor and Levi throws you into the dirt furiously.

"You could have died. Being foolhardy will only lead to an early death." He barks as he directs his blade towards your neck.

"Am I dead yet?" Whispering back your gaze isn't trained on the blade but right up at him.

His nostrils flare up, his hair sticks to his forehead haphazardly and the knuckles that hold his pointed blades are white in tangled dissatisfaction.

Grabbing you by the hips he flings you over his shoulder choosing to not continue with the confrontation.

"I know what you're up to." His voice is still rugged from the pursuit and it takes you a split second to register what he's said.

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches in your throat, no way, there's no way in hell he knows. He's sharp but he's not a mind reader.

Your position means he can't read your face seeing as you're facing his back, instantly steeling your features you let out a breathy laugh.

"And what may that be?" Silently you pray he's worded himself ambiguously to catch a slip up.

"Being gutsy, you think that makes you a good soldier. It doesn't."

Relief floods you. He doesn't know.

"Soldiers need to be brave." Your retort makes him grumble.

"If you die with no meaning by being reckless what's the purpose of being a soldier?" His question has you stopping and thinking on what the correct answer is.

Unable to think of an answer you ask another question.

"Are you saying your previous comrades died without meaning?"

"No. Their deaths fueled me slay more titans."

"So if I died back there who wou-" He swiftly cuts you off showing no inclination of wanting to hear what it is you have to say.

"I'll cut your tongue off if it's stupid." He clearly isn't serious about the threat but he does mean it when he warns you to not overstep.

Despite the consequences you say what's on your mind. "I just wanted to ask who would give my life meaning if I ever died. I don't have siblings and my parents died long ago."

Silence follows and the crunch of his boots against the muddy leaves tells you he probably doesn't wish to answer your question.

"Sorry-"

"I would. I would give meaning to your life." He says it with such ease you almost want to admire the enemy but you know he's said it because he feels he has to.

"You barely know me but I hope one day you can stop thinking everyone has to rely on you." You say it with taunting understanding.

Another bout of silence follows. Only this time the two of you feel warmly comforted, he doesn't understand how you've seen through his facade but it's easy for you to spot another liar.

846, ii.

Brows drawn back you observe your surroundings attempting to mask your scrutiny. The place is running amok with uncontrollable Eldian folk. The stench of unadulterated sin makes itself known but you seem to be the only person able to smell it. Eren bumps against the table you're sat at and your face twitches a little but you say nothing. You're yet to get used to these people's lack of manners.

At least that's how you force yourself to think. To be truthful, you don't quite understand what it is these people have done wrong. Ever since you've arrived you've been nitpicking at every single minor inconvenience or possible issue. A girl stole a potato and broke it into uneven pieces to share and you attempted to twist the story in your head to make her look like an unfair, greedy voracious demon but... you found yourself finding very little to actually be angry at. These people are essentially normal in every way of the word, they aren't demons and you can't help but feel yourself slip away from everything you once knew as reality. You're finding it difficult to believe what years of Marleyan education taught you, the hymns that were once drilled into your brain permanently are but a vague memory.

You feel disgustingly under-dressed and out of place, you don't belong here not when you're meant to hate these people, not when you're meant to despise them. You should be fighting the urge to shove their heads onto pitchforks or to skin them alive and feed them to pigs. Everyone back in Marley told you to control your impulses but now you're here and you've settled down even having the opportunity to converse with these individuals, share their pain, share their loss, share their suffering, you wonder why you have no impulses to control. Have they brainwashed you? Or is it that you're the real demon in this situation?

Fingers mingling with each other on your lap you sit hopelessly alone. Interacting with the so called enemy is much harder than you expect. Worry consistently bubbles in the pit of your stomach and every night is spent tossing and turning evaluating then reevaluating who the bad guy really is. At first the task of daily interaction isn't a big deal, you find it easy enough to approach members of the team and fake interest in their lives until the original plan falls through. You do become invested in your team members lives and stories that it comes to the point where you don't have to force yourself to smile at their jokes or to sympathize with their tales of grief. You become one of them and you swear you're meant to feel like a traitor but eerily you feel like you belong.

Nevertheless you try your best to stick with what you know. You're nothing like Zeke, you're loyal, capable, faithful and trustworthy. Never will you turn your back on Marley.

Rising to excuse yourself from dinner you think you've just about made it and escaped finally able to hide away in the confines of your bedroom but your lips form into a straight uncomfortable line at the feeling of someone's hand latching at your wrist. You're halfway down the hallway just a few more steps away from your bedroom. You hope it's one of the rookies.

"Oi, come here."

Head shooting backwards your eyes land on Levi, his dark curtains fall in front of his eyes - you note that he hasn't trimmed them as he usually does. Despite his size his grip is firm and your wrist squirms around a little trying to manoeuvre out of his bruising grasp. He seems to notice he's underestimated his strength once again and loosens his hold on you. Narrowed eyes analyse your anxious form, they're grey and in this lighting almost glow appearing silver. For a brief second your mouth is left ajar by the delicate but rough manner of his face.

"Everything Okay?" He doesn't typically seem to care very much about anyone, the question activates your senses and you're on full alert but the eye contact you make with him seconds later slows down the gears in your mind, they only whir and hum in anticipation completely coming to a halt.

"Yes, yes everything is okay." You're playing around with the hem of your shirt and you silently question when you were ever this nervous around anyone. You're a Marleyan soldier for heaven's sake not an unrestrained, unsupervised child left to play in a park.

Despite your clear inability to cushion and shield yourself from your Levi's stabbing gaze you attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible.

"I'll be going I just feel a little —" At first you had thought to fake you were ill but at the feeling of a sudden strike of pain you hold onto your stomach, the ache burns into your abdomen and without permission it travels higher up towards your ribs. "A little unwell." You manage to wheeze out. Hand placed onto a nearby cement wall your thought process is hasty speeding up by the second. Have they figured you out and had you poisoned? No, you barely ate anything today.

You hunch over feeling the bile crawl up your throat, on reflex you clamp your eyes shut not wishing to anger a superior by acting insolent and disposing of your dinner in the hallway. Shaky palms reach hesitantly for your lips and you force yourself to keep it in. Levi would commit a murder if you heaved and gagged letting it all out in front of him.

You motion towards the door trying to emphasize that you can handle yourself in the privacy of your room. Tears bite at the sides of your eyes and your vision is so blurred you can only make out the faint outline of the man who was just in front of you.

"Relax. I'll clean it." Your hair is brushed away from your face securely held back and you can't hold it in any longer, the acrid storm surges through your throat, you retch at the harsh sting it leaves behind. Breathing heavy, perturbed and anxious you gasp in all the air you can get.

"I knew you looked ill." His hands hold your jaw gently, the pads of his fingers are calloused but his touch remains soft. A tissue dabs at your mouth wiping away the excess untouched sick.

Just like the sick which surged through you less than a minute ago you feel something else entirely tear into you. You can't put a finger on it but it's dangerous for you to not feel contempt.

847, i.

Your heart accepts what your mind has been ignoring for months on end when Levi looks you square in the eyes after a heart wrenching expedition. The vacant look on his face is enough for the guilt to consume you whole but he doesn't know that. He doesn't know of your sins.

The wagon of corpses reeks of death and desperation. It's rotten and the smell is sickening. Forcibly you stop yourself from feeling any more grief. The despair isn't yours to go through.

Your first ever personal loss outside of the walls and you've learnt Paradis is not home to demons. Cheeks burning in mortification you can't formulate any thoughts on your own accord, instead they continuously emerge in bursts and finally a single thought sticks out from the rest - Are you aiding in the destruction of innocent human life?

The both of you are sat on guard duty with the corpses, half of the team has been wiped out in one sweep. Your trembling hands don't seem to want to steady any time soon and you sit there with your guilty conscience strangling you slowly, your airflow is getting shallower. Shorter, quicker breaths leave you. The imaginary gash in your chest is bottomless, and your lungs push and pull in a power struggle.

Levi's coarse hands abruptly hold onto yours and the floodgates open again, he doesn't know what you've done to him, done to his soldiers, done to his people. If he knew who you really were, would things be different?

"This was out of your control."

Do you tell him?

The question sits in your mind for a while until you shake your head. He takes it the wrong way and think you're responding to him.

"This was not your fault." For the first time in months you've heard his voice crack under pressure.

"Pe- Petra she- I could have taken one for the team and died instead of her." All that remains of your dear friend is her blood soaked cloak. Her body was one of the few that had to be hauled away earlier to decrease the carriage's load.

The fabric still smells of Petra, smells of honey and chamomile and the simple soap offered at the base, but it still smells of her.

Firm hands grab your shoulders and Levi's fingers dig sorely into your flesh.

"Don't."

"But I- I didn't contribute as much as her and she has family who are alive." Hiccuping you try to bare with the fact that you'll wake up tomorrow and not see her preparing breakfast for everyone else. You know you could have propelled her out of the way just in time if you hadn't been so taken aback by the entire situation.

"You were her comrade. She made the choice to die for you."

You want to reach out, sob into his chest and yell that you regret it all, scream and tell him about the secret you've been hiding. A sorry excuse of a comrade you are to let her die on the battlefield not knowing your true identity. The tears roll down your cheeks and Levi feels his heart constrict and squeeze as he comprehends the lack of regard you have for your life. "It should have been me." Is repeated over and over again, your eyes are raw and bloodshot, the vicious wind sinks its teeth into you.

"Then die."

"If you're willing for her life to have no meaning. Die." The words he spits out are as cutting as the bitter wind. He feels cheated and you're finally able to come to your senses.

He's faired much worse but you doubt he's ever acted out the way you have in front of another person. In this never-ending void of darkness locking away the dull ache caused by deafening loss is the best choice for everyone.

Much like the night you had been sick he takes a grip of your jaw and directs your face towards his, this time he's not as gentle as before but you conclude that it's because he's drained, completely exhausted from the battle. The eyes are the windows to the soul but Levi's window panes are shattered, completely crushed by the weight of the constant burden he has to carry.

"I'm sorry." You croak out the apology. He grits his teeth because he doesn't want you to apologize but he doesn't voice out his opinion. As a substitute he presses his arms against you, the terribly raw panic is murdering you. Levi's gruff voice is a mixture of faux irritation but mutual understanding.

"Cry." He allows for your head to loll against his shoulder.

As the dark envelopes both you and him the scent of the dead only becomes more and more pungent, recalling fond memories of Petra and the others you know your heart settles on a decision before your mind does. You're a two timing back stabbing traitor for this. What you hated Zeke for you have become yourself.

Disloyal, unfaithful and fickle.

That day you place your loyalties with Paradis.

847, ii.

Levi's wiping down one of the kitchen tables, you're kneeled on the floor scrubbing vigorously. The others have already given up, panting they've left using the excuse of fetching water from a nearby well. Your back aches but you find cleaning reassuring and somewhat of a decent distraction.

"Why do you like to clean?" You're used to Levi asking you abrupt questions by now, after all the two of you have been acquainted for well over a year now. Through that year he's learnt about you and you about him. When in the midst of what looks to be humanity's final year's, twelve simple months is enough to form a bond worth a decade.

"I'm not good at a lot but I am good at cleaning."

"You know that's not true idiot." The tone of his voice indicates that your answer doesn't please him.

"But I do think I'm good at cleaning? Maybe not as good as you but I am half decent."

"Not that. You're good at much more than half the people I've ever met." He sneers, his footsteps edge towards you. "Purely being a good person is a talent these days."

You suppress a flinch because you aren't a good person at all. Neither are you that middle ground between good and bad. Rough around the edges and uneven, you're shards of glass ready to slash and hack away at him if Marley somehow lures you back.

The confession, if you could even call it that catches you by surprise and anger fills you. You almost want for him to not trust you and call out your bluff. It's a little unnatural how badly you want for him to realize the truth.

Your head turns up to stare at the man who's a few steps away from you. "Or am I just good at acting genuine?"

You don't even mean to snap at him and you don't even realize you have until you see his eyes widen and mouth part in imperceptible surprise. Biting your tongue your attention is diverted back to the wooden floor. Driving your washcloth into the crevices and dips of the floorboards you ignore Levi's leather shoes which now stand right in front of you.

"Are you questioning my judgement of character?"

Be born in Marley, That's what you had done, trained to destroy people you thought to be devilish entities, foolishly chose to grow attached to the so called enemy. Your mind lingers onto a specific thought and you're deathly afraid to be thinking it in the first place but there's no more avoiding it.

Falling deeply in love with Levi is your worst mistake to date.

"What I did. It was out of my control." you reply, voice hard.

"Not disclosing what it was?" He asks.

Your silence is his answer. Kneeling down to where you are he disarms you, the washcloth is taken out of your hands and he places it onto a table.

"You are a good person." His voice is brusque and he states it like it's a fact, something you should know. Hot tears threaten to spill over, he's stupidly naive for not rethinking that opinion of his. Lips thinned and eyes watering you don't know how to feel.

"Levi. I'm sure you'd like to think that but I am not."

"You love the members of the corps unconditionally I can see it in the way you look at them."

"Sometimes you look a little sad when you stare." The last sentence he adds in has your pulse racing. He's right, you often feel miserable thinking about how everyone would react knowing who you really are.

"I'm not interested in bad people." He sounds distant saying such warm words and it takes a moment for them to actually sink in. You don't quite believe you've heard him correctly. The dread sinks to the bottom of your stomach and the feelings you've buried at the back of your mind hit you like a tsunami. The thought of him feeling the same way for you, is agonizing.

"Stop being ridiculous." The uncertainty is killing the both of you.

"Loving you is not ridiculous, if you don't feel the same way you can say that and I'll step away. We'll be back to normal."

"No, no, no. You don't get it. You're just saying that." Your voice quivers and the intensity of this new revelation is too large for you to cope with.

"Why would, you," He begins, voice just above a whisper, "ever think that way?"

"Why would you even look twice at me?" You reply.

"Because I worry for you."

"You worry for everyone."

"I worry for you the most."

Instead of letting you respond to him this time he carries on speaking.

"We both know we feel the same."

You already knew you were in love with Levi, you didn’t need for him to tell you. You knew you were in love when you tried to memorize his facial features, you knew you were in love when his laughter was the cause of your laughter, you knew you were in love when you threw yourself in front of that abnormal for him.

That's when you begin to understand what all his signals meant. You now knew why he'd let you stare so intently, you now knew why he laughed particularly hard when it was you who had made a joke, you now knew why he scolded you and nearly broke down at the sight of your injured arm after that specific expedition.

You know it. He knows it. You both know what this will lead to.

But you still lunge onto his lap, you still press your wobbly lips against his. You still choose to surrender yourself to him and he still reacts by taking a hold of your shaky hands which lay on his chest. He envelopes them in his warm grasp. Slowly but gradually the ice thaws and dissolves. Heartbreak, anguish and suffering when one of you loses the other will be the end of your romance, you're sure of it. Hell, the both of you are in the middle of a war but your heart flames up thinking of all of the possibilities.

Perhaps it'll play out the one way you wish for it not to.

Could your ending be in betrayal?

848, i.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded hus-"

"Cut the crap and kiss me." Levi's crude interruption isn't appreciated by Erwin but everyone knows Levi doesn't care all that much for formalities and hates being in the spotlight for too long.

Gripping him by the collar of his suit your lips are a centimetre away, he stops you tightening the hold he has on your waist. His lips gently press against your collarbone and his breath meanders towards the shell of your ear.

"Swear you won't die on me."

Gulping you look away apprehensively. You know you can't promise that.

“Oi, I’m expecting an answer.” His voice flickers slightly.

Forefinger holding your chin up you see your soon to be husband close to tears, he valiantly blinks them away. Levi has never been one to make his pain public and your heart twists in your chest as you realize just how much of a hold his feelings for you have over him.

"I can't promise that, you know it'll only hurt more." The strange bitter taste in your mouth won't let you comply with his request and by measuring his reaction you see his eyes cloud in an unidentifiable emotion, you're sure it's nothing positive.

"We may not have a happy ending Levi but we'll always have a happy middle."

Levi scoffs in derision, he has to think your attempt at being meaningful is ridiculous.

You lean into him and it's all so heart-wrenchingly familiar yet foreign. His body sags comprehending that not everything will go the way he wants it to. One of you is guaranteed to leave first.

Hands finding purchase in the cloth of his white dress shirt Levi doesn't cringe at you creasing the fabric as he usually does. He allows for you to call the shots this time, your lips brush faintly against his before you nosedive into him. No resistance is felt and he replies almost immediately. Everyone applauds as his fingertips press into the back of your skull and you find that this is all incredibly hideous. The innate disloyalty you feel, you throwing your entire life away for this man but you find yourself not caring. To hell with that miserable life crammed with sin.

Levi smiles against your mouth, you assume you're meant to magically smile back but you can't make yourself. It's uncomfortable relishing in the undeserved happiness knowing it won't last forever.

The world you live in isn't ideal nor is it forgiving.

Momentary joy is all an antagonist can hope for.

849, i.

Jean can’t take his eyes off the newly weds.

You’re cooing into your Levi’s ear gently, his cheeks flush scarlet at the feeling of your hot breath against his skin and he scolds you for having the gall to rile him up in public.

Jean sniggers finding some sort of odd delight from the interaction - he’s never seen the Captain this content and at ease.

849, ii.

You don't know why you've dragged yourself out of bed just to stare at your husband's face but you have, despite the toll life has had on him he seems sound for once. His breathing peaceful yours is anything but that. When it's dark the weight becomes heavier, your skin tingles and your throat burns aching for release.

Eyes blurring your hands shake reaching out for him but you can't find the courage to make contact. Nothing will ever warrant plaguing him even more with your existence.

The memories become increasingly bitter.

"If we make it out of this alive we'll have children and they'll look just like you."

"I want them to look like you." had been your reply.

Levi winced not seeming to like the idea.

"No, I want them to look like you. You're beautiful."

How wrong he was for thinking that.

You, beautiful? He'd stab himself ten times over if he knew just who exactly he had said those words to.

850, i.

Zeke had betrayed you after finding out who you were to Levi but you half expected that he would tell him the truth at some point regardless of that fact.

Tear stains travel through the mud and grime on your face, Levi's eyes are indifferent as he twists his wedding ring off his finger flinging it into the surrounding rubble.

Without your permission he yanks your arm forwards intending to take your matching ring away but you hold on digging your heels into the dirt beneath you.

"You disgusting bitch. Give me it."

You scream, high and awful, he continues jerking at your arm the muscle throbs crying out for him to stop but he doesn't and no one steps in to put a halt to any of it. Levi having had enough grabs at your neck ruthlessly. In any other circumstance he'd be labelled callous or cruel but everyone on the battle field shares a similar empathy for their Captain. Neither they or Levi had expected your disloyalty.

"I said give me the ring if you know what's good for you." His fingers slide around your neck, his seemingly low words cling onto the little respect he has left for you.

"No." Your defiance has his eyes hardening in and posture tensing. "I'm not handing it over."

Levi says nothing, he only holds onto your throat tighter, if he really keeps at it your windpipe will be crushed in no time. You know he's holding out on purpose, he's still giving you a chance. He expects for you to stand your ground, say you never deceived Paradis, say something, anything to make him let go of you.

"Marrying you... It just happened somehow. I know it was selfish of me." He squeezes harder. "I know it was. I'm sorry Levi." Gasping and breathless you clench and unclench your fists finding it too difficult to explain.

Your mouth opens, you want to tell him you haven't seduced him like he thinks you have, tell him you dropped that plan of yours long ago but then you falter at the last second. It's typically hard to tell when Erwin's infuriated but it's painfully obvious when you make eye contact with him over Levi's trembling shoulders. It's enough to tell you to give up. Enough to tell you that you're beyond redemption, you've ran and hid long enough.

"Hand over your titan." Levi says nothing to Erwin's proposition, the hold he has on your neck loosens but his silence is sickening. It means he agrees.

This is fate's idea of a cruel joke.

But you agree, on the basis of one condition.

"Fine but-"

Levi cuts in, all regard for you devoid from his system.

"You're in no place to be making demands." He snarls, his patience quickly running thin.

However Erwin urges you to continue speaking taking you aback.

"If it's not too much maybe we can accommodate your final wish." Erwin had always been thoughtful in nature and you thank him for even bothering to show you a sliver of benevolence.

Everyone's looking, all eyes are on you. Some are blinking away tears, others are disgusted unable to stare at you for more than a few seconds at a time. Levi falls into the latter.

Brazen with not an ounce of shame you mention the ring again. "Let me keep it." Your left hand covers your right and underneath the flesh is the last symbol left of your union with Levi.

Whispers and murmurs orbit you, none of them are kind and Levi loses it.

His reflexes are paralyzing, he's back at it clawing your neck mercilessly but you don't scream or shriek as you did previously. You take it, you let him unload his frustration.

"Levi. Let it go for the sake of humanity." Erwin says pointedly. Irritation pricks him, he wants this over and done with and your rebelliousness doesn't look as if it'll be tamed any time soon unless you're given what you want.

Levi's face is crimson, the fresh blood from the expedition still steaming. "Y/N, I'll saw your arm off if I have to." But, you know he's already given into Erwin's orders when he throws you to the ground letting you crash and wheeze for breath.

850, ii.

Levi's been appointed to guard you for your final night alive. The room feels wistful as you think back wondering if the life you lived was respectable.

"Why did you stare at me when I slept? Did you think of killing me?" Half commanding and half pleading his voice cracks. He coughs attempting to cover it up.

You jolt not expecting the interaction at all and you're not the slightest bit surprised that he had seen you all those nights staring so deeply. He'd always been a light sleeper. You turn your head up hoping he's looking at you.

He isn't.

"I wanted our children to look like you. I think you're beautiful."

It's now his turn to recoil, only he does so in repulsion remembering the familiarity of those words. They had left his own lips not too long ago.

"I'd never have children with the likes of you." He sounds tense then.

You understand. No one would want to have children with someone as hated and as despicable as you.

"I know." You whisper faintly.

850, iii.

When Erwin's eyes glaze over unable to focus on anything in particular Levi assumes it's him growing used to the titan powers. What he doesn't expect is for his Commander to bang his head against the floor unrelenting screaming your name.

Pairs of hands move to stop him but he thrusts them aside wailing. Levi stresses trying to figure out what it is you could have done in the wake of your death.

But Erwin Smith. Courageous, brave Erwin Smith, who never cracked at loss of life for the sake of humanity, who always eloquently spoke to everyone around him at all times, finds himself slumping down to his knees and weeping for you.

The warm blood from his self inflicted assault still trickles down his nose, a tremor shakes through his entire body when he thinks of breaking the news to Levi.

The edge in Erwin’s voice grows dangerous.

"We made the wrong choice."

Erwin can't word it any better than that.

But Levi understands right away, he wishes he didn’t, he wishes he was ignorant enough not to.

Hange sticks an arm out aiming for his shoulder but he stumbles away nearly falling back into the floor not wanting to be touched by anyone.

He finds that he is not human enough to cry. It’s that or he’s not human at all without your presence.

854, i.

Levi has grown old without you, lived to see months and new seasons without you by his side. Over time his eyelids have become heavier, the corners of his mouth naturally droop and he remains perpetually somber.

Sometimes you visit him in his dreams, each time you make a silly comment about how his grey eye bags make him look like he’s been punched in the face. “Levi Ackerman, I swear if you don’t sleep soon!” You cushion the blow by whispering sweet nothings, reassuring him that you still think he’s beautiful.

Occasionally you add in that you don’t blame him for the past, but those conversations only last for a few seconds at a time.

“I don’t blame you.” It always starts off with the exact same phrase.

“I should have listened to you.” Levi’s tone is stern and uncompromising .

“Lev, I was never going to tell you to spare my life. You tried to listen to me, I could tell you wanted me to deny it.”

Levi refuses to answer you, he still thinks he’s at fault.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of that ring. He regrets throwing it away recklessly into the rubble.

Some day he’ll return to Shiganshina to find it. The idea sounds laughable but he has to find a reason to smile as he fights for his life.

That is what Levi thinks as two set’s of jaws snap shut onto his legs, a flurry of red surrounds him. His throat constricts at the feeling of his thighs being ripped away from the rest of him.

“I tried.” He whimpers to no one in particular, eyes blank and losing meaning.

“I know Levi, I know.” The same voice from his dreams soothes him.

“Do not despair. Find me again in another world.” The biting wind adds in.

Levi’s eyelids flutter shut unable to do much else.

He’s unsure if he has the courage to face you again in another lifetime.

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yeoldontknow · 3 years

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the light keeper’s daughter | jhs (m)

A/N: written as fulfillment for the july house games at @bangtansorciere ❂ To The Lighthouse ⁂ Hosted by: Professor Bee @inkedtae through @bangtansorciere AU Type: Trident’s Tides (soulmates) Themes: God/Goddess (goddess reader); Secret Relationship Kinks: clit biting; pain kink; size kink; masturbation; degradation; overstimulation; dirty talk; cum play; panty sniffing

↝ Creative Content Contributor: @jamaisjoons for this incredible banner. its literally so stunning ;~; ↝ Pairing: Lighthouse Keeper!Hoseok x Goddess of Light!Reader (oc; female) ↝ Genre: soulmate au; secret relationship au; gods/goddess au; mentions of an arranged marriage; heavy angst; smut; romance; pining ↝ Rating: NC-17 | 18+ ↝ Summary: For years, you’ve kept your relationship with Hoseok a secret. As the daughter of the God of Light, you are destined to marry anyone who slays the beast in the Gloaming Isles in your honor. When that day finally comes, you go to Hoseok to tell him your relationship must end and you are set to be married. One last time, Hoseok reminds you no one will love you as eternally, as enduringly, as he. ↝ Warnings: explicit sex; explicit language; pregnancy; unprotected sex; creampie; masturbation; clit biting; oral sex (f receiving); pain kink; size kink; overstimulation; light degradation; a brief handjob; impreg kink; dirty talk; cum play; panty sniffing; crying; biting; marking; scratching; brief mentions of blood ↝ Word Count: 14.7K ↝ special thank you to @softyoongiionly and @kithtaehyung for reading through this and being amazing betas! if there are any mistakes left over they are absolutely my own and the fact that 98% of this was written while sprinting owo

Looking at Hoseok, you think, is exactly like being struck by lightning. Which is to say, every time, all the time, looking at Hoseok means you feel him everywhere, all over and all at once.

Inside the lighthouse, there is no escaping him.

Pressing your back against the rough concrete of the small light room, you tilt your head to the side as the totality of Hoseok’s warmth, ardor, and fidelity blossoms over you. He flowers deep in the nodes of your lungs, your breath constricted as you take him in, studying the curve of his lips, the slope of his nose, the way he wears the night as though he is the stars.

In the distance, waves rush to the shore, kissing the land with the same enthusiasm you wish to be kissing him, only to pull away from land; the water shy, anxious of the earth’s response to its affections. Over and over, the sea rolls like thunder. Every now and then, the light that spins overhead refracts downward, illuminating the blood that has rushed to his cheeks. Flushed, his lips part as he processes the words you have just told him, all red and red and red with understanding.

As though he is burning, as though you are not burning for him, your hands clinging tightly to your skirts as you hold your knees against your chest. It should be utterly unfair, you think, for him to appear so beautiful, so exquisite, even as he remains painfully stricken by your words. The searing ache in your chest germinates alongside your love, mind racing with the apologies he deserves. Your bones tremble with the force of remaining still, prepared to reach out and hold his face and tell him it was a lie. You want to smile for him, want to tease him, want to say you’d been terribly silly and that such jokes are best kept for nights when the sky is not clouded, not cold, and instead warmed by your shared rapture.

How you would like to give him all the kindest, all the softest, words in the world.

‘It can’t be true.’

He’s said this twice, the disbelief in his voice only just winning out against the grief. Hoseok repeats it again, taking a step towards you, eyes cast down to where you have slunk in shame and sadness. Hands limp at his sides, his fingers quake, torn between balling his hands into fists or running through his hair, their resting place for his worry. Deciding on neither, he simply stands tall and stoic, appearing so small in the light that cascades around the room.

You’d glow for him if you could, if you felt like you deserved to illuminate any part of him at all.

Looking away from his woefully dejected expression, you turn your attention to the small gap in the wall beside you. A window once blocked the wind - stained glass, exquisite. It shattered during a storm, on a night when he pressed himself so deep inside you traces of his essence lingered on your tongue. He was deep enough it hurt, rolling into you with enthusiastic vigor. Tonight, the breeze smells of low tide, acrid in the back of your nose and sour, just like your mood.

‘We knew this would happen,’ is your quiet reply.

A weak and pathetic excuse, you hate the words even as you say them. Shameful, you think with a grimace, to have pretended that you could have a happy ending, that convincing your father would have been simple. The lies you told yourself and Hoseok, the platitudes that fell from your lips to comfort him, turn on your now, betrayals stacked against you that weigh heavily your judgement. You’ve been childish, so childish, to assume you could have ever been happy.

Hoseok shakes his head, refusing to accept your answer. All fury and rage, he comes to stand before you and lowers to his knees, demanding you look at him. His presence is a live wire, the heat and energy from his skin is vital, a pull against yours that makes you regard him once more, confronted by his enduring beauty. Flooding your vision, he is all you see, all you can fathom, your world beginning and ending with his pleading eyes.

‘But it’s been years,’ he argues, the high pitched tone of his voice wavering and taught with emotion. He’s older than you, physically, but at this moment he has never been so young, so small, so gloriously human. ‘Centuries even. It’s unfair to you.’

A huff of breath rushes through your nose, your scoff ripe with bitterness. ‘Someone finally slayed the Sydral, as archaic as this ritual actually is. My father said I should have always expected it.’

‘And so now…’ Hoseok’s voice drifts, falling back onto his knees crestfallen. The corner of his lips drop into the beginnings of a deep frown, all manner and will to fight rapidly dissipating.

‘I have to marry them,’ you nod, answering his unspoken question.

For a long while, you hold his gaze, allowing yourself to get lost in the umber of his irises and missing the mirth that usually ignites their sparkle. It is just his breath that cascades over your skin, just the waves that rush beyond the light room, just the world that seems to turn onward, without you, time passing without either of you truly acknowledging it. In this silence, you see your history, your every moment spent with him: the day you met; the day he could not help himself any longer and kissed you soundly, without restraint; the first moment you told him you loved him; the first moment he said he needed you; the plastic ring he won at the pier arcade - extraordinary in all its ugliness - and the gentle, reverent, way he slid it over your finger, calling it a promise of fidelity.

In Hoseok, you see it all.

Similarly, he drowns in you, the pink of his cheeks deepening to rose with each passing breath. Posture falling slack, the strap of his ride suspender slips from his shoulder, the collar of his linen shirt loosening with the lack of restraint. A sliver of his collarbone becomes exposed, golden and rich, a tantalizing patch of skin you would caress and kiss if only the circumstances had been different. You wonder idly what he remembers of you, what he sees in your own dispirited expression. You wonder if he remembers the way he loved you, the way he loved you beyond your light and into your darkness.

You wonder if he remembers the way he ate your shadows - with his whole mouth, with fervor, with pride. You wonder if he remembers the way you devoured him just the same.

‘This is ridiculous,’ he announces, finally. Turning to look out the window, he regards the sky solemnly, the curve of his profile imposing in its majesty. Eyes narrowed, it is the harshest he has ever looked, devoid of forgiveness. ‘It’s supposed to be me.’

Swiftly, you shake your head, adamant in your disagreement. You reach for him, leaning forward to rest your hand against his chest, against his heart where it thunders in his sternum. Warmth from his skin radiates into your blood, taking root between your joints. Hoseok worms his way into pieces of your spirit long left abandoned, and you swallow thickly, wondering if such affection as this is normal, if it’s always this way.

‘I’d never have let you.’ Your dispute is biting, sharp enough Hoseok turns his eyes back to you, jaw clenched and tight with silent fury. ‘You’re human. It would have killed you. And then where would I be?’

‘You’d be sitting where I am,’ he argues, emphatic.

Reaching for your hand where it rests, he covers it with his own, lifting it slightly to twine his fingers with yours. Unable to help himself, he inches closer, running his thumb over your knuckles and sending shivers along your nerves. Like always, his touch is a wildfire, the electric kinetic energy needed to set you aglow. Your mind swims with him the same way your body becomes whelmed by his devotion, but he does not let himself become distracted.

‘Do you even understand?’ Voice little more than a whisper, Hoseok’s gaze is penetrating, a bite to his veneration that demands your complete attention. Tilting his head to the side, he continues. ‘You think I wouldn’t die for you?’

You squeeze his hand with tenacity, acknowledging his sentiment, but he does not see all the things you have witnessed. He does not know the true menace of the Sydral, does not know its tricks, its many heads, its speed, its cunning; Hoseok would die for you, and death would find him quickly.

Instead, you offer him a small smile, one that is so fragile and close to breaking. Hoseok’s intensity burns within your chest, transforming his softness into the valor of a man that leaves you breathless. Salvaging your own strength, you lower your gaze to the white collar of his shirt, to the soft linen and the expanse of his throat where he swallows. This you can regard with pleasure, can regard without fearing you may shatter.

And so you smile, finding the will to fight him once more. ‘The problem,’ you begin, hoping the earnestness of your smile is enough to cool the rage that boils in his throat, ‘is that I know you would. And I would live my life alone, married to him while knowing you are gone. Would you really condemn me to such misery? My darling, I would die to keep you safe.’

This feels like anguish; this feels like dying, you think to yourself, growing ever more despondent the longer you feel Hoseok pleading with the emptiness that lurks behind your eyes. You can’t bear to face him, not when the tightness in your throat becomes a threat, tears lingering on the precipice of spilling. Every time his gaze meets yours it is brutal in its honesty, violent in the way your love and lust tumbles so completely into grief.

‘How long?’ he manages, breathing life to the very question you’d been hoping to avoid.

Your future is still so far away, distant enough it makes this moment, and every moment to follow, heavy with the pain of imagination. Still, you’ve never been able to deny him anything.

Once more, you turn to view the window, regarding it with a vacant expression as though you are regarding time itself. ‘You know this is the last time I can see you.’

‘I know,’ he bites out, unwilling to let you dodge the answer. ‘I mean how long until...you’re not mine anymore.’

‘That’s...not possible,’ you offer gently, casting him a solemn, detached grin. ‘I am always going to be yours. Even when I’m in his bed, even when I’m thousands of miles away, even in death, I am yours.’

Hoseok pulls you against him, compelling your complete attention. Eyes wide, you study his face - the resolution of his passion fierce enough to be an earthquake against your sternum, a collision of meeting worlds. His arm winds itself around your waist while he still clutches your hand, the strength of his grip stinging against your knuckles. You tremble against his powerful frame, inhaling the deep scent of cedar and ambergris that always clings to him, the salt of the ocean that lingers on his skin, the dust that has saturated his shirt from the lighthouse, and you; your vanilla and lemon, the brightness of your own natural scent that emanates from your light and always seems to find him, not unlike rays of the sun.

Your mouth waters at this closeness, his own eyes darkened to a rich black as he studies you seriously. You’ve wounded him - worse, you’ve denied him - and he presses the tips of his fingers into the soft muscles of your back, ensuring you cannot leave him. Not until he is ready to let you go.

‘You know what I mean,’ he breathes, words lowered to a hiss. If he were a vengeful sort of man, he would be full of venom. Instead, there is only remorse in his insistence.

Closing your eyes, you sigh. ‘Months, most likely. Tomorrow the rituals begin - the seven days feast, the Fate Tying, the Blood Gathering.’

When you look at him again, your lower lip begins to quake. Saying the words makes it all feel immediate, tangible, as though your father stands in the dark corners of the light room casting his judgements. You almost feel him there, his presence always so sinister for a man blessed to command the light; he resides in the silent places, giving birth to shadows, prepared to pull you from bliss at a moment's notice.

‘All this pomp and circumstance from eras bygone,’ you continue, grounding yourself in the firmness of Hoseok’s arms and chest. The bones of his knees press into your thighs; your hand caught between your twin heartbeats; you immerse yourself in the pain of this connection and remind yourself it hurts because he was always meant to be yours. ‘It’s been centuries since a goddess has been married off, and yet somehow I’m the first for such a sentence. The wedding won’t be for at least five months.’

‘Then we have time.’ Hope saturates his words, his hold on you growing ever more unyielding. ‘You can still come to me, we can still see each other,’ he explains quickly, speaking in a rush. ‘No one will have to know.’

Biting your lips, you raise your hand to the soft strands of his hair, carding your fingers through it. All silk and satin, you relish the texture as his desperation soaks into your pores.

‘I wish that could be true.’ Even as you speak, you focus on his hair, committing these small details to memory. The curve of his bang in the center of his forehead, the deep amber and dark sienna and all the golden highlights that come to life in the daylight, the way all of him, every piece, is soft enough to break you. Yes, you focus on it all. ‘All the Old Gods will be gathering in Teylim. There will be more eyes on me than ever before. Ladies coming to fuss over my hair, my clothes, the oils I wear; men worshiping Daeus like he’s some kind of king when, really, he’s just lucky enough to be half of a god. I won’t be able to get away.’

Hoseok’s eyes roam your face, wild and storming, waiting for you to amend your answer. When you do not speak, his brow furrows and he exhales, a small whimper released from the center of his breaking heart. ‘So this is it, then? This is really it?’

‘I’m so sorry,’ you whisper, moving your hand from his hair to cup his cheek.

He presses himself into your touch, turning just slightly to kiss delicately at your palm. The sweetness of his tenderness splinters the last of your courage, the tears you’ve so valiantly held back starting to burn as they spill over to your cheeks.

‘I wish it could be different,’ you plead - with everyone and no one at all. ‘I wish for it everyday. Hoseok, I can’t -’ Distraught, you choke on your own words, and Hoseok pulls you firmly against him, resting your head against his shoulder. ‘I can’t breathe without you. I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this.’

Hoseok says nothing at all as you dampen his shirt, tears spilling into the linen as you struggle not to collapse against him completely. When you are finally alone, you will succumb to the sorrow that has learned to occupy every chamber of your heart. When you are finally alone, you will eat the spirit of rage with teeth and fangs, and you will let the darkness have you, refusing to let the light erupt from your skin. But for now, you let the tears arrive of their own accord, aware that you are suddenly too sad to even weep, tears dripping into his shirt as means to remain a part of him.

Against you, Hoseok’s breath becomes uneven, his own shoulders shuddering as he minds his own heroism, fighting back his own tears. He quivers against you, his stuttering breath exhaled through his nose as he maintains his composure. The light room becomes almost too quiet, the blood rushing your ears drowning out the sound of the sea, narrowing your focus to just the shared heat between your bodies. You inch closer, removing any space that could exist between you, extinguishing any oxygen that would dare to separate you from him. What you would give for a thunderstorm, any sound at all to give life to the end of love, to the start of the war of loving.

Unable to stomach the quiet any longer, your mind seems to become unhinged. All the tiny, miserable little thoughts Hoseok’s love kept locked away worm their way past your lips, erupting to life as though your heartbreak has given them permission to persecute you.

‘I wish you never found me,’ you mumble, almost incoherent. Your tongue fumbles with the words, caught between weeping and speaking, making a mess of so much more than just his shirt. ‘I wish you never saw me. I could love you like that, on my own, from a distance. I could be strong enough to move through life not knowing you, loving only the idea of you. You’re so much more than anything my mind could have fabricated out of childish desire. The reality of you is heaven. And now, I’m hurting you. I should die for such a transgression.’

‘Don’t say that.’ Hoseok pulls, easing you back and lifting both his hands to cup your face. Briefly you mourn the loss of his fingers and knuckles so rough against yours, but cradled between his palms, your skin tingles, making a festival out of this contact and celebrating the nuance of his fingerprints. He looks down into you, deep enough you feel him taking root in the center of your belly. You love him most when he looks like this - fierce and unforgiving - and you cannot help the way your body responds, aroused simply by the passion of him. ‘Don’t you dare wish that,’ he commands, voice thick. ‘The day we met was the day my life started.’

‘But...’ you struggle to find the words, drifting off with the implication that, now, his life is surely ending.

‘I don’t want to know who I would be without you.’ Hoseok takes his time as he speaks, an art you cannot comprehend.

Behind his eyes, his mind races, words living and dying before they can reach his tongue. He has so much to say, so many more promises to make, so many more words of affirmation he’d like to give you. You see them all, recognize them all - for they mirror yours, are born from your own likeness; you know them all so well, you feel as though you could reach out and touch them.

‘I can’t fathom it, I won’t even consider it.’ Shaking his head, he denies this completely, holding onto your stare with a fixation that borders on zealous. ‘You came to me, and it felt like I could breathe. You came to me, and I felt like myself. Loving you makes me better, loving you is partly why I am alive.’

It’s difficult to swallow around the lump in your throat, its size and prowess growing ever larger in the wake of his words. In the oncoming quiet, you wish he hadn’t said it, wish he hadn’t reminded you of the way you the oncoming storm of his presence before you met him. One look at him and you had seen it all, a life designed by the Fates - marriage, children, hope, happiness. In death he’d have joined you in Teylim, youthful, young, yours. With eternity before you, you’d bask in the rapture and the joyful silliness that comes with forever.

He felt it, too, saw it in your eyes. On your fourth meeting, he held you against him and promised you his life.

‘I will put my child in your belly,’ he announced, deliberate in the way he enunciated his words. You waited for the shock of such an exclamation to overtake you, but it never came. ‘I can’t explain it,’ he chuckled, amused by his own enthusiasm, ‘but I’m certain of it. I see my unborn children in your eyes. I think this is what the elders mean when they say there is always a plan, and you will always know it the moment you find it. I’m so certain my whole life is tied to yours.’

The memory burns within your mind, a scorch of greed mixing immediately with longing. You wish the fire of it would incinerate it to ash, that it would vanish altogether before the Fate Tying. You can handle all of these frivolous little rituals, sure of yourself and your own strength, but the Fate Tying means to unmake you. At just the thought, your stomach begins to sink.

You will sit, hands clasped on your amber throne with the sunlight seeking your hair, your cheeks, your lips; Daeus will smile, wrapped in oak and evergreen, in the earth that flourishes beneath your light; and you will weep, watching as the Moirai unstitch your soul from Hoseok’s, peeling it apart inch by horrible inch, to thread it with the ugliness of Daeus’ strands. You will wonder, mouth dry and eyes wet, why the Moirai would bother making a man for you, would bother weaving your spirits together, only to unravel the work they had done, the love you had found.

The movement of Hoseok’s gentle caress, pads of his thumbs running across the bones of your cheeks, returns you to the present moment. Once more he whimpers, doing his best to keep you grounded with him, unwilling to lose you before he absolutely must. Digging your nails into his shoulder as you grab fistfuls of his shirt, you wallow with him, knowing that, just like him, you don’t know who you would have become without him.

‘What do we do?’ you manage, reduced to a more pathetic version of yourself as you plead with him. Anyone else, and you’d be ashamed to appear so weak. ‘How do I do this?’

‘I don’t know,’ is all he can provide. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Promise me -’ You cut yourself off, not entirely certain where the idea comes from, what part of you would willingly propose such a request, the meaning of what you had intended to say catching up to your mind the moment you heard your own voice. Hoseok waits patiently, and you lower your gaze to the curvature of his lips, wanting to kiss and kiss and kiss him, knowing your next words will scar you both. ‘Promise me you’ll find someone else. Promise me you’ll be happy.’

Without any hesitation, he scoffs, dismissing the idea altogether. ‘Don’t ask me to tell a lie.’

‘I can’t, Hoseok.’ Now, it is your turn to hold his face, cupping his cheeks with veneration. Mind reeling, you envision it, certain you could take it. You are certain you would die for less. ‘I can’t do this if I spend my life knowing you’ll be unhappy. I can’t do this knowing you’re alone.’

Slowly, gently, Hoseok lets the tip of his nose press against yours, rubbing it back and forth, back and forth. Breath a deluge down and over your lips and skin, he somehow finds it within himself to smile, empty of all amusement.

‘It’s so unfair of you to expect that I could be happy with anyone but you,’ he chastises. ‘I’d rather be alone, utterly and completely, than to be lonely with someone. They deserve better than someone who is with them out of loyalty to another person - a promise kept to the person they truly love.’

His rejection and refusal of your plea inspires a thrill in the pit of your stomach, all manner of possessive pleasure coursing through your veins. How easily he turns you into a selfish woman, how quickly his promises of fidelity make you lose all sight of strength and future vision. What sort of man is Hoseok that he should have such dominion over you, you think to yourself. But then, you know. You know as you have always known: Hoseok is your man, your lover, your soul.

Stroking his cheeks with your thumbs, just as he had done, reverently, adoringly, you bite your lip and feel your exhale shake. ‘So what will you do?’

‘I’ll do as I’ve always done,’ he shrugs, as though the very thought is not a bruise within his ribs. ‘I’ll keep the lighthouse. Every night, I’ll let the beacon burn, and keep the light on. Even on clear days, I will let the light shine.’ Hoseok smiles as he says this, the first real smile he has managed since he saw you on the shore this evening, waiting, just like always. ‘When you’re up there, perhaps you will see the light.’

He shifts his gaze to the roof of the light house, looking up and beyond, past the clouds, up to the seat of the gods. Furrowing his brow, he hardens his jaw just slightly, eyes turning dark as he demands your father witness him.

When he looks at you again, he is a changed man - a boy trapped in the throes of love, and a man on the verge of letting himself perish.

‘Maybe up there,’ he murmurs, ‘you will see my light and know that I’m burning for you, just as I’ve always been. I’ll continue to love you. I’ll be good, I’ll be pious, and maybe when I die we will meet in Teylim and even in death I’ll watch you, staying close to your light like a bird in flight.’

‘Hoseok.’ The quiver of your bottom lip disrupts the cadence of his name, besmirching it to little more than a sob.

Sucking air through his teeth, Hoseok leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes fall shut. At such close proximity, you study the almost feminine length of his eyelashes, the pores of his skin, and wonder who or what god or demon you could barter with to stay inside him forever.

‘You’re supposed to be mine,’ he whimpers, the sadness welling up in him like a mountain. ‘You are mine, but…I will always be yours. Even when they untie us, I’ll be yours. They can’t thread me with anyone else. I don’t think my soul will allow it.’

Unable to sustain it any longer, your desire for him rises to a swell, erupting beside your sorrow - just as fervent, and even more unyielding. His words are a comfort, an echo you will revisit over and over when you have long departed, but your skin has learned how to ache for his touch, learned how to anticipate the way he moves over you like water, and you need it. You need him.

The rest of your pitiful existence looms out before you, days and months and centuries passing without Hoseok to hold you and keep you, and you despise the very notion of it. You rebuke it, refusing to let yourself continue on without knowing how it feels to have him. Tonight, you do not want him as your lover.

Tonight, you want him as your husband.

‘Kiss me,’ you announce, guiding his forehead away from yours, skin prickling with the lack of his warmth. ‘Kiss me like it’s our wedding. I -’ The tightness of your voice steals your breath, words hot and heavy in your mouth as you say them. ‘I want to know what a marriage bed truly feels like. I want to know what our marriage bed would be like.’

Mad with an unbearable passion, no longer contained, Hoseok heeds your words and lets his tongue wander over the seam of your lips. You cling to him, clutching what you can of his shape, his body, and you sigh in woeful euphoria, granting him unspoken entry to the recesses of your mouth - but he does not enter. Your lover has always been disobedient, reckless in the evening when your skin and your lips and your heart are presented to him, and tonight he is no different. Tonight, he scorns the hour, taking his time as he traces over your cupid’s bow with his tongue, rendering the turn of the earth meaningless. The heat of his breath tickles your skin, a cascade in which you luxuriate, and your eyes, blurred by the urgency of your desire, lose all sense of your surroundings until there is only Hoseok.

Hoseok - on you, around you, all over you, the rain and the wind all at once.

Only when he has had his fill of your lips does he press the whole of his mouth against yours, sucking languidly at your bottom lip. Skin growing tight, you keen into his kiss, consumed by greed. Slowly, he moves his hands down and down, letting his fingers trace indeterminate lines over your cheeks, your jaw, your bones until they rest at your neck. With his palm over your pulse, he holds you still, his touch a fever, his touch the sun, radiating deep into the caverns of your heart.

Filled with him, you think. Absolutely alive with him, Hoseok lets his palm cradle the tether of your life until you are certain he is the oxygen made to sustain your mortal form. You, living and breathing, are little more than remnants of departed touches, composed entirely of his affections, his affirmations, his adoration.

So, too, do you kiss at him, battling against him for any semblance of permanence, demanding that you be remembered. Feeling you writhe against him, insistent in your need for closeness, he hums in pleasure, a musical sound that traverses your synapsis with unhurried ease. Gooseflesh raises on your arms, either by a passing breeze or the way Hoseok leans in, harder, rougher, all manner of dominance in the way he so desperately seeks to have you, and you shiver, delighted by the peak in your senses; delighted, fundamentally, that you will commit every moment of this last evening to bodily memory.

Willing to be devoured, you surrender to him, feeling arousal leak from between your folds as though his savagery has given it permission to spill over. It soaks into your underwear where you briefly mourn the fact that it will not coat your thighs, not yet, and that Hoseok must wait to see how easily you could paint yourself in your wanting. Like always, he anticipates you and ardent your longing; perceptive and always acutely aware of the way you have grown wanton. depraved by the strength of his kisses alone.

Hoseok eases his hand to the back of your neck, determination apparent in his grip, and guides you forward to rest in his lap. Letting your legs settle on either side of his thighs, you straddle him, unwilling to break any contact he has with you, your skin, you, your hands on him. You come together like a cataclysm, the burgeoning tip of his erection firm and stubborn where it presses against your core, assertive and tantalizing even beneath the fabric of his trousers.

It’s lewd the way you crave him deep inside you, jaw dropping as your mouth opens wide to gasp in delight. Hoseok wastes no time in letting his tongue glide against yours, explorative and eager, utterly deliberate in his stroking. Slowly, the tips of his fingers move from your neck to your hairline, ever deeper and ever more intrusive. A low chuckle rumbles in his throat as he runs his tongue over yours, grazing the roof of your mouth before he forms a fist in your hair and tilts your head back, swift and aggressive.

All at once he pulls away, face hovering just centimeters above yours and gaze hooded as he explores your lustful expression. A flush creeps into your cheeks, the control he has over the flow of your blood is always surprising even if it is to be expected. Hoseok seems pleased, evident in the familiar way his eyes have become blackened by the force of his yearning and the smile that has worked its way into the corner of his lips, a secret for only you to discover. He takes a pause, disregarding his haste, to regard you: your parted lips, your heated cheeks - a fire that has spread itself over your chests and breasts.

‘You are a vision of sin,’ he murmurs, cocking his head to the side and tightening his grip in your hair. ‘What would all the gods say?’

Your own nails scratch tenderly into his scalp, gripping his hair to mirror his hold on you. Futile, you know. The strength in Hoseok is silent, a gift that makes him appear merely pretty until the seat of his power is fully revealed, a fortitude you could never mimic.

You swallow, preparing to speak, and watch the way Hoseok studies the movement of your throat. ‘They would call me a harlot.’

His gaze returns to yours, an otherwise thoughtful look turned menacing by the terror of his passion. ‘And are you?’

Tongue heavy in your mouth, you struggle with the few words you can manage. ‘They will make me out to be,’ you begin slowly, poignantly, ‘and it will be your fault. You’ve made me a slut.’

You hold onto the word - draping yourself over the “s”, tapping your tongue against the “t” - ensuring it lingers in your mouth long enough for him to taste it. It’s his fault, really, that you will be judged and scorned and shamed for coming to your new husband wholly impure, the construct of your virginity eradicated by Hoseok’s insatiable appetite. It’s his fault, you think, that you want him this much. That you love him this much. Your tongue caresses the word slut like it's your dearest companion, familiar with its shape and texture, and you lean upward, hoping to put it in his mouth.

If he is half of your soul, then he should learn how it tastes to be utterly reprehensible.

But he dodges the trajectory of your desires, moves away from your lips and your face entirely, diving down to your chest where he lets his teeth traverse the expanse of your sternum. Lifting his hand from your pulse, he trades one beat of your blood for another, fisting his hand in the collar of your dress to pull it down and expose the thin bit of flesh covering your heart. It thunders in your ears, your body a storm of his making, and you tremble as he positions himself to ravage your very spirit.

His teeth leave scars upon your nerves, eternal echoes within your pores that have you rolling your hips downward in encouragement. Again, you feel him, his cock against your core, enough to have you whimpering as though you are small and fragile, not the maker of your undoing. As punishment for your impertinence, Hoseok takes aim and bites down harshly at the slender bone of your clavicle.

‘Hoseok!’

‘I know you, Sparrow.’ The husk of his breath is an avalanche into the marrow of your bones, the memory of his teeth still reverberating into your lungs. ‘You always like it when it hurts.’

Your skin still stings, yet he is relentless. You quake in his hold as he bites at the bone once again, teeth inlaid perfectly where they had been before. Your skin bends beneath the force, ecstatic hiss descending into a low moan, giving away the truth of how well he truly knows you. The pain grounds you in the moment, allows you, too, to ignore the passage of time, the ebb and flow of the waves as though the tides have halted altogether. You are prettiest when you are red and purple, black and blue by the marks he leaves in his wake, and not once, not even when he breaks your skin to bleeding does he tarnish your light.

In his arms, you are illuminated, glowing with the same intensity as the lighthouse beacon. He’s called you the heavenly sky for the way you glow under his affections, your inability to control your power when he makes you feel so impossibly good turning you into an evening star. You often forget you are blessed with a holy gift, the goddess of light as though your title has any meaning beyond providing you a seat at the table in Teylim. You often forget this is who you really are, someone happy, someone made of magic - a light kindled only under joy.

‘I will make you ache for me,’ he breathes, pushing the collar of your dress lower and lower, threatening to expose your nipple. ‘I want you alight, burning for me. Only me.’

Hoseok kisses deftly at the supple softness of your breast, diligent and greedy. His breath comes ragged, thick in the center of his lungs where he struggles around the insurmountable longing that puts force in his handling of your body. Working his tongue over the skin, he licks the stars out of the constellations of your pores, tasting the dust, the salt, the sea. Your hands run through his hair, messing the thick strands to a state of perilous disorder in your eagerness to move downward to the comforting solidarity of his shoulders.

Grinding your hips into his lap, the tip of his clothed erection slides along your slit, and you release a whimpered exclamation as the cloth of your underwear slips between your folds. Biting your lip, you breathe deep, Hoseok’s own groan of dissatisfaction vibrates into your chest. You feel him deep in your throat, his voice alongside yours, his desire matching yours in intensity.

Hand leaving your neck in favor of your waist, his grip tightens, fingertips pressing deep circles into the muscles of your back. Thrusting upward, he teases you, laughing darkly to himself with a rough nip to your breast. The motion sends your underwear deeper into your cunt, a pressure to your clit as erotic as it is cruel. It sends a shiver down your spine, inspiring tremors in your nerves that have you clenching your walls around nothing at all, seeking the bulbous head of his cock in need.

Pleased with himself, he raises himself from your chest to work at the buttons of your dress. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your own rolling back to present you breasts to him like a preening cat. Hungry, he takes the bait, slipping a palm under your dress to cup your breast. He presses against your nipple, a small wine tumbling from your throat to mingle with his whispered expletive. Rolling your nipple between his knuckle, he regards you momentarily, studying your dazed expression. Against him, you are an earthquake unto yourself, a cosmic shift of longing ravaging your blood, and you are pleased by it, offering him a smile of gluttony.

Abruptly, he releases your breast, hands falling to your hips as he raises to his knees, keeping you against him. Hoseok pushes your hips roughly against his, cock a threatening force against your core as he guides your bodies down to the floor, careful to keep the shift in position painless. Once more, he thrusts at you, and you feel yourself becoming soaked, juices no longer dripping into your underwear but instead crawling slowly down to your ass. The concrete of the floor is chilled, cold enough your back and hips arch indelicately in retreat, causing you to carelessly meet his thrust.

‘Fuck,’ he mutters, returning his hands to your front as he sits back on his knees.

Hoseok avoids the buttons over your breasts, choosing instead to undo the buttons just beneath. Continuing onward, he takes his time unwrapping you, hungry for the pieces of your body he will mark as his. The heart of his lips parts on a silent exclamation, mouth falling open as he unveils more of your ample flesh. The light from your skin mixes with the lighthouse beacon, casting shadows of desire in his eyes, rendering him beastly. With his eyes only, he devours you; your body, the fruit of his immense craving.

Leaving your breasts covered, Hoseok exposes your hips, your stomach, your thighs. Your hardened nipples strain against the fabric, begging for release the same way your core clenches once again around nothing at all, swallowing more of your underwear in an effort to lure him deep inside you. He meant it this way, all too aware your sensitive nipples will tease you to a point of aching the longer they rub against your dress.

The sea breeze cools your skin, so much of you exposed you feel as though you have been submerged in wind and sky. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you mourn momentarily that it is not Hoseok that covers you, not yet. Still, you enjoy being naked for him like this - naked, vulnerable, safe, and his. You open your legs further, letting the wind kiss at the wetness of your cunt, your answering grin borderline salacious. How glorious to give everything and hide nothing from him. How glorious to let yourself be worshipped, his eyes starved for the pleasure of your sex. All this joy, and yet your frustration runs over, an overflow occurring with little thought.

‘It’s not fair,’ you whine, raising your arms to reach for him. ‘Let me undress you.’

Sitting up, you press your hands flat against his chest, becoming attuned with the ample hills and valleys of his muscles. Hoseok sits still and proud, lips reddened and wet from kissing you. Your light ignites the flush that dapples the tips of his ears, skin flushed by lust and longing. Throat running dry, you swallow thickly, committing his unrivaled beauty to memory. You refuse to forget a single moment of this, unwilling to relinquish a single detail of him.

Slowly, you ease the suspenders from his shoulders, humming in approval at the way the loose linen of his shirt relaxes in its newfound freedom, offering you more of his neck and collarbones. As your fingers work earnestly at his buttons, Hoseok takes his time admiring you, a piercing look both penetrative and heartsick. His hand comes to cover yours, unable to help himself, and he holds it tightly, raising it to his lips. His eyes remain locked on yours as he kisses the pads of your fingers, one by one, before slipping your index and middle finger into his mouth. Your lips part on a sigh that fades just as quickly as it came, feeling his tongue swirl over the digits with purpose.

And much the same way you did not expect his touch, so too are you caught off guard when he moves your fingers from his mouth and guides it down your stomach. Lower and lower, he guides your hand between your bodies where he slips it beneath your underwear. Your breath hitches, skin wet from his saliva and clit throbbing at the prospect of tangible contact, your own hand an ominous presence resting upon your mound.

‘Touch yourself,’ he commands.

Hoseok is so often the picture of tenderness in the way he makes love to you, always gentle and always mired in the totality of his affections. Occasionally, he is sharp and, occasionally, he is in control - only on days when he is starved, only on days when he is completely ravenous. Tonight, there is no room for argument. Tonight, he makes himself an unrelenting devil, unafraid to exert dominance.

‘Eventually we will remember little of how we undress,’ he explains, pressing your fingers over your mound, dangerously close to your clit. ‘Right now, I need to see the way you will touch yourself for me when I’m no longer around. I want to see it. I want to memorize it. Touch yourself for me.’

Removing his hand from yours, he nudges softly at your shoulder, and you obey immediately. Leaning back on your right elbow, you keep your hand in place as he grabs the band of your underwear and pulls it down. Lifting your hips, your tongue licks at your bottom lip where the skin has become dry and chapped, struggling to catch your breath as your desire becomes oppressive. Falling back on your tailbone, you spread your legs wider still, proud and impish as you slide your fingers down your slip, separating your folds to display your core.

But he sees nothing as he lifts your underwear to his nose, fisting his hands in the fabric and pressing it against his face. Hoseok breathes in deep,eyes rolling back slightly in the effort of keeping his eyes open, a growl rumbling in his chest like a warning. Exhaling into the cloth, he laughs to himself, a high pitched, small sound of amused embarrassment before he falls completely silent once more. And then, he breathes in again, just as deep, just as fervent, lips kissing at the wet patch you have created.

‘I’m keeping these.’ Easing your underwear away from his nose, he crumples the garment and buries it in the pocket of his trousers. Cocking an eyebrow in pleasure, he takes in your exposed cunt, licking his lips. ‘I’ll fuck myself with them, imagining it’s you and your wet pussy.’

‘Pervert,’ you tease, jutting your chin forward in mock derision.

‘Whore.’ Inspired by your nakedness, he begins to undress, gaze heated and focused on your wet cunt. ‘I told you to touch yourself.’

Your fingers easily breach the barrier of your folds upon their release, wet with Hoseok’s spit and your walls slick and dripping with your juices. Years ago, you would have been ashamed of being so soaked, a damp patch expanding in the concrete beneath you in visible proof. But you no longer care, not when Hoseok’s expression of thirst is so incorrigible.

You fuck yourself with your hand, fighting the urge to tilt your head back in relief - small as it is. In the heat of your lonely nights, you find it tragic your fingers never reach as deep as Hoseok’s slender digits; yours are too slim, knuckles not nearly as rough or pronounced. And when your mind drifts dangerously to thoughts of girth, your eyes drop swiftly to the pronounced shape of Hoseok’s straining cock. Swallowing the weep of appreciation that builds in your chest, your teeth chew at your bottom lip, clinging in anticipation.

Pressing the base of your palm against the hood of your clit, you whimper. Mild and meek as it is, your fingers bring a temporary relief, this satisfaction fleeting, and it will not be long before you are begging him to fill you.

‘You’re dripping,’ he comments, interrupting your thoughts and removing his shirt in one swift motion. ‘Are you sure you’re not the princess of water? If I kiss your cunt I might drown.’

‘I’m in love with you.’

While not truly a detailed explanation, the words carry the weight of your whole chest, erupting with little thought. Your mind offers the only logical explanation for your wetness it can manage while your body grapples with the implication of Hoseok’s mouth upon your core.

‘Say it again,’ he orders, hands tugging harshly at the zip of his trousers.

A slow smile spreads over your lips, head cocking to the side as you admire his eager expression. ‘I’m in love with you.’

‘Again.’

‘I’m in love with you.’

This time, you say it with venom, as though you want it to hurt and hope that it will leave scars in its wake. Hoseok tugs his trousers down his thighs, rising to his knees, appearing regal and godly. Freed from its cloth restraints, his cock springs upward to rest against his stomach, and he smirks, chest and neck flushed as your focus shifts immediately to the purpled bulbous head.

Without hesitation, you remove yourself from your folds, the ache at your core only minutely grieving the loss of your small hand. Instead, you reach for him, fingers slick with your juices as you grasp the base of his cock with a gentle squeeze. He’s heavy in your hand, rigid in the solid way that makes your walls clench and drip once more, mirroring the way your mouth waters. Slowly, you move your hand up and down the shaft, letting your thumb rub over the leaking tip with care.

Hoseok’s breath hitches, his hips thrusting slightly into your hand as you pleasure him. His own hands clutch at his discarded clothes, doing his best to exercise his dwindling patience, and you repeat motion, admiring the smoothness of the skin in contrast to the veins of his shaft.

‘I always wonder how you will fit inside me,’ you comment, moving your hand back down and studying the way your fingers do not meet your thumb. ‘You’re so thick.’

He rolls his shoulders back in the aftermath of your praise, inhaling sharply through his teeth. Hoseok is always free with his praises, showering you in worship and stating it is his duty to devote himself to the goddess in his favor. Always, he does this, and always he seeks nothing in return. But you have always sensed, as attuned to him as you are, that praise from you sets his soul afire. One word of praise from you and you are certain he could eat the god of Daeus entirely, rendering him completely human.

‘You were made for me,’ he explains, voice taught and words strained. Unable to hold back, he fucks your fist, seeking relief. ‘You will always stretch to accommodate me, just like your life was meant to. Just like your belly was meant to, stretching with my children.’ His gaze is penetrative, deeply serious for such an obscene state of being. ‘You were meant to take all of me. My true home is inside you.’

Your grip loosens slightly at his admission, lips curling into a small pout. ‘I so desperately wanted to give you a child.’

A choked sound rumbles through his chest, and his hand reaches yours, pulling it from his cock to wind your fingers together. With his free hand, he nudges at your shoulder, easing you back to the ground with a darkness in his eyes that has your throat running dry. Automatically, your legs spread wide, offering him space to settle between them. The tip of his cock rubs carelessly against your slit, and your focus fades, mind emptying with the single desire to have him inside you taking root.

‘Promise me you won’t give him children,’ he commands, words thick with purpose.

He walks his hand languidly down your body, grazing over your chest, your covered breasts, to the flat of your stomach. Beneath him, you tremble, the tectonic plates of your spine shifting beneath his touch. Splaying his hand over your stomach, he eyes your skin with parted lips and a furrowed brow. Hoseok wars with himself, his thoughts tangible behind the darkness of his irises, expression swimming with strife.

‘Promise me,’ he repeats. ‘I don’t think I could survive the thought of someone else's baby growing inside you.’

Raising your hand from the floor, you card your fingers through his hair while you squeeze your joined hands, determined to win his attention.

‘I promise,’ is your soft whisper. ‘I shall bear no other child than yours.’

Invigorated by your promise, he returns his gaze to yours and maintains it as he works his way down your body with his tongue, kissing everywhere his hands have been. Without warning, he buries his face between your legs to bite gently at your clit, this contact a thunderclap in your spirit. Back arching off the floor, your voice shatters around his name, teeth chewing over the syllables as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Your bones hum with the stimulation, very existence stinging and resonating, while he sucks your clit into his mouth, soothing the pain into a deep, soul burning pleasure. He swirls his tongue around it, mouth greedy and impatient, the fullness of his lips a heaven unrivaled by Teylim, and your hand tightened in his hair, body writhing in passion.

Hoseok releases your clit with a wet pop before he kisses his way down to your folds, thrusting the flat of his tongue between them, impatient and hungry. Mindlessly, your legs spread wider, small gasps escaping from your chest as your lungs take in the scent of your sex and your hips roll upward, feeling your juices mix ceremoniously with his saliva. Consumed by the sheer power of your need, you feel yourself howl like a moonless wolf, rolling your hips against Hoseok’s face in erratic motions, inspired by the promise of your orgasm.

But Hoseok releases your joined hands, moving it quickly to your hips where he holds you still, growling against your cunt.

‘You shall not wander from me,’ he says, moving his lips against your slit as he presses you into the ground. ‘Keep still and let me feast on you.’

Once more, he thrusts the full length of his tongue between your walls, sucking eagerly at the juices spilling into his open mouth. He’s velvet and silk against your core, sturdy and solid while still gliding against all the places you have needed him most, and your voice careens off the ceiling, loud enough to drown out the ocean waves. Scratching your nails down the soft skin of your thighs, you fight back the desire to thrust against his face, wishing you could fuck his mouth and press yourself against the tip of his nose. All of it, every thrust of his tongue and every roll of your hips you suppress has you moaning, voice high pitched and growing erratic.

The feel of his tongue inside you inspires the deep desire for something larger, something thicker. Your orgasm is a threat in the center of your belly, spine tingling and tightening as each press of his tongue against your walls tames the beast of your racing heart. Hoseok buries himself between your legs with a diligence that borders on hysteria, holding you down and indulging in your

Still, his tongue only just hits the place inside your core that needs him most. You want him hard against your cervix. You want him deep enough to leave bruises on your softest pieces.

Tonight, you want the thick girth of his cock to splinter your bones. Tonight, you want his cock pressed against your cervix, a bruise you will carry for the rest of your life. Tonight, you want his cum so deep inside you it burns.

Tonight, you want him to love you and you want it to hurt.

‘Hoseok,’ you whimper. ‘Please, I -’

Hoseok thrusts two fingers into your cunt beside his tongue, silencing you with the rough skin of his knuckles spreading your walls even wider. The contrast between his fingers and tongue elevates your hips from the floor with force, disregarding the strength of his hand. You are beastly beneath his ministrations, finding yourself caught in a wild hour and feeling as though you have abstained from him too long. He forces your hips back down with the palm of his hand, groaning against you loudly enough you feel his voice reverberate up to your tongue, and you cry out, distraught.

Having left the top of your dress buttoned, your nipples strain against the cloth, sensitive and sending electric ripples down your arms, your shoulders - all along your nerves. Another breeze moves through the lighthouse, and it kisses at the sheen of sweat that has broken along your hairline.

Desperately, you want him. Desperately, you need him. But still it’s not enough.

‘God,’ you keen, ‘I need to cum.’

Hoseok hums in understanding, the vibration of it moving deep inside you once more.

‘Oh,’ you whine, so small and so close to breaking.

Hoseok’s tongue leaves your cunt, only his fingers remaining, and he moves his mouth to your clit where he sucks at the swollen nub deftly. Again, your hand scratches down your thighs, harsh enough to draw blood. Red and angry, the sting of these scores against your flesh makes you smile, a manic and monstrous expression you hope your father, Daeus, and all the gods can see. Frustrated and feeling the coil of your orgasm tighten, your other hand slaps into the ground, gripping at the linen of Hoseok’s shirt. You dig your nails into it, pretending it is him, his skin, his cock, anything substantial to torture him as he tortures you.

Against your cunt, you feel Hoseok begin to laugh, wearing the smirk of the devil as he sucks diligently at your clit.

His name begins in your mouth and dies on an exhale, eyes open wide as you stare up at the ceiling. Vision glazed and vacant, your body trembles as your orgasm lingers dangerously on the precipice of your nerves, skin growing hot and bordering on a point of pain. You hear yourself crying, you feel yourself pressing harder and harder against Hoseok’s eager mouth, and you struggle to discern if the rush in your ears is your blood as it moves swiftly to find him or the ocean that works swiftly to keep your coupling secret.

And then, without any warning at all, Hoseok once more latches his teeth to your clit.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, a wave of heat in your blood and skin, your juice cascading into Hoseok’s waiting mouth. This orgasm is an eruption, a shockwave in your soul that leaves you trembling while his relentless motions of tongue and hand milk you to completion. The tears you have held back begin to spill, soaking your cheeks as you soak his lips, a great wave over you that leaves you breathless.

‘Come up here,’ you gasp. ‘Come up here and kiss me.’

Slowly pulling his lips and fingers from your cunt, you hiss as he eases his way up your body. Using the tip of his tongue, he traces the shape of your parted lips with careful strokes, still messy and dripping with your slick juices. At your core, his cock presses, the contact sending tremors up your spine and causing a whine of pain to splinter in your throat. Granted permission by the sound alone, Hoseok delves his tongue inside your mouth and demands you taste yourself - you, your cum; him, his breath, his spit, his flavor; all of it, mixed together. Your walls clench as you kiss him, devouring him, as your folds seek to lure his cock inside you.

Gasping against his mouth, you feel his tip press roughly against your core, your walls still sensitive but your body and spirit eager for his fullness. Hoseok pulls away from your lips to whine a low expletive, his resolve shaking and unstable, close to shattering by the force of his desire. His lips part on his sighs, breath slow and shallow, and still shimmering with you. Already, he had devoured you, drunk his fill and yet he still appears starved. As he lingers above you, Hoseok rolls his cock against your walls once more, a challenge, a reminder that he is exhausted by the prospect of not having his fill of you.

Moving your hands to his shoulders, you press your fingers into the soft skin of his back and muscles, letting them wander down and down until you grip the rounded flesh of his ass There, your grip tightens, threatening to push him inside you lest he waste any more time.

‘Hoseok,’ you breathe. ‘I need you to fuck me.’

‘You want me to fuck you?’ he mumbles, running his tongue over your jaw before biting at your chin. ‘Tell me how badly.’

‘Please,’ you whimper, rolling your hips up against his cock, a warning against the tip. ‘I need you so badly it hurts.’

Wordlessly, Hoseok thrusts himself inside you to the hilt, balls pressing against you with a loud slap. You feel him shake inside you, body shivering with the sudden heat enveloping his cock. Hoseok’s moan is a deluge, an ecstatic exclamation howled victoriously into the juncture of your neck and shoulders, and you smile blankly at the ceiling, mind empty of all things that are not the feel of Hoseok against and inside you.

His stillness is a tease you cannot endure, and so you clench yourself around him, his teeth biting at your skin as you release and repeat, urging him to move. The feel of his mouth at your skin, the feel of his heaviness pressed so roughly inside you, as your cunt leaking over him, back down into the floor where it coats your ass in its stickiness. Still, you pay little attention to anything other than his immense girth as it stretches you, your walls strained to accommodate him like always.

Feeling you drip over and under him, he pulls out and thrusts back in, a knock at the door of your cervix and the sudden feel of him so deep as you groaning his name. He challenges you, repeating the motion as your bodies slide back along the floor with the force of his thrusts, the piercing sensation stealing your very breath. You are gasping as you clutch him, breasts moving against the fabric and nipples aching with the sensation, letting him push your body to its limits.

‘Tell me you love me,’ he grits out, an echo of your earlier promises.

‘I love you,’ you choke, the words incomprehensible.

‘Say it again,’ he hisses, executing a piercing thrust that has you gasping for breath, nails digging into his skin for purchase.

Squeezing your eyes closed, your hands move to the wings of his shoulder blades and you cling to him, a flightless bird. ‘I love you.’

When you hear yourself say it, you realize you are crying, your voice a sob of affirmation around tears of grief. It should be impossible to love someone this much, with the devastating whole of your existence.

‘Tell me you love me,’ you plead, barely able to speak around the way Hoseok punishes your cervix, a punishment for abandoning him.

‘I love you.’ Equally affected, his voice warbles over the words. Face buried in the crook of your neck, he presses the words over and over into your pulse.

‘I love you, I love you.’

Slowing his pace, Hoseok accentuates his proclamations with brutal thrusts against your cervix. Slow as his thrusts may be, they are full of power and force, a pain against your walls and muscles ensuring you will never be free of him. Tears falling freely, your breath is as sharp as his thrusts, a burn in your lungs as you struggle to contain the cosmic feeling of love you hold inside.

‘I know you like it when it hurts,’ he grits out, thrusts relentless.

All you can manage is a nod, a moan, the dig of your nails into his skin, the acknowledgement that you would prefer it if he shattered you. You would prefer it if he left nothing behind of you at all.

‘I know you like it when I stretch you, when you can’t walk for days.’

‘I do,’ you nod weakly, legs automatically spreading wider - until your hips hurt, until you are certain your bones will bruise from the way you have spread yourself open just for him.

Hoseok moans as a harmonic response to yours, the sack of his balls slapping diligently at your ass. You cling to him, holding him against you in despair, the vice grip of your hands matched only by the grip of your walls. Pleasure ripples through your synapses, an overload to your very synapses, little else registering in your mind apart from the places Hoseok penetrates within your core.

‘Do you want me to cum inside you?’

The pleading nature of his tone does not go unmissed, his own anguish evident in the way his hand cups your breast and his nails scratch at the flesh, wishing for entry.

‘Yes.’

‘What if I get you pregnant?’ he muses, though he remains completely sincere. What if I fuck my baby into you? What will they do?’

‘I hope you do.’ It takes all your strength to speak without losing your breath. Once more your orgasm has started to build gloriously around the pain of taking him against your cervix, and you need him to know that you mean it. ‘I don’t care if they scorn me.’

‘I’ll do it,’ he bites out - not a threat, but a promise. ‘I’ll knock you up, fuck my baby into you. They’ll have to watch you grow someone else’s child. What a sight, huh? Bet Daeus would love to see you deliver another man’s baby.’

‘Do it.’

You see yourself, heavy and round with his child, glowing brilliantly like a constellation unto yourself. Carrying your offspring, you would be a supernova, the cradle of the very universe and you would celebrate it with every word breaking over laughter. Daeus would snarl at you, a sneer reserved for your growing belly; your father would find himself in a rage so beautiful and blinding, you think darkness would befall the earth, this winter sudden and unforgiving. The other gods would ignore you, this you are confident of and would take with pride. You’d tease them with it, finding yourself immensely confident in the power of being pregnant with Hoseok’s child.

You’d carry his child as though this were your real pilgrimage within Teylim, your true purpose.

And Hoseok, you know, would be your chosen king, god of the sun because he deserves it.

He deserves you.

‘Yeah?’ he moans, hips picking up pace as he begins to chase his own high. Still, he loses none of the strength in his motions, seemingly motivated by your affirmation of desire.

‘Get me pregnant,’ you plead, biting your lip with shame at this impossible ask. A fool’s errand, a childish plea to change the way of things. ‘Make me stay with you,’ is your final whisper.

Together, you both fall silent as he fucks you with vigor, silent and awestruck by the violence of your coupling. With each thrust, your voices become a symphony of your union. Gripping him tightly, you hope it reaches the gods, your father, all of Teylim. You hope they see the way Hoseok fucks you, absolutely unforgiving. You hope they see the way you make a mess of yourself for him, that you have already decided on a husband and he is no god, no hero, but a man who loves you as though you are the whole of the sky.

Hoseok trembles against you, and you sense his orgasm approaching in the way he gasps against your skin, thrusting harder and faster and, somehow, harder into your core. You are burning with the ache of containing him, but your own orgasm is cosmic, making its steady approach with each brutal thrust. Hoseok wanted to live inside you, wanted to give you a child, wanted to watch you swell with him alone - and it is these thoughts that send you over the edge, the universe apart from Hoseok melting into a white. In this orgasm, there is no air, no sea, no sky - only Hoseok; his breath, his smile as you cum around him, his ecstatic laughter.

You imagine yourself pregnant, learning to contain a sun inside your womb. You imagine him laughing, hands and lips at your belly. You imagine him happy. You imagine him happy, and your orgasm moves over you with the strength of a lunar tide, the same way your tears move over your cheeks, torn between sobs of bliss and sobs of grief for a life you will not have.

Hoseok continues to thrust into you with purpose, the last of your orgasm leaving you in shockwaves as the motions of his hips overstimulate your walls. It hurts to contain him, not nearly as much as it hurts to leave him, and you dig your nails into his skin, demanding all you can from him with enthusiasm. The world is tilted on its axis as he cums inside you, wave after wave of seed spilling into your core as you stroke tenderly at the hair at the base of his neck. Teeth chattering, you mumble his name, shivering as he spills himself inside you, and you pray, woefully, that he kept his word and left you with a piece of him.

‘Mine,’ he says, stilling inside you as the last of his orgasm quakes his mortal form.

As his cock begins to soften inside you, the hand at your breast moves gently to the buttons. Your skin burns with the heat of the saliva he dripped against your neck, and he presses his cheek against your neck as he unbuttons the last of your dress. Exposed, now, to the sea breeze, your back arches slightly as the wind and his breath moves over your nipples. His hand cups your breast, too tender for the way he fucked you, and you are certain he is imagining your breasts full of milk, your body heavy, his wish granted, too.

Pulling his cock free, you both grimace at the feeling, and he removes his hand from your breast to instead smear the cum from your core that leaks from between your walls over your folds. He strokes the tips of his fingers against your slit, the stimulation making you hiss and writhe beneath him in retreat, before you are crying out his name, his fingers dipping inside to scoop his cum from your center. As he pulls his hand free, his studies his fingers carefully, smirking not unlike the devil, before he guides them over your breasts and lets it drip.

And then, without warning, he begins to write his name along your breasts.

‘I am sanctifying you,’ he explains. ‘Anyone who pulls down your clothes will find me. I have already laid claim to your temple.’

Your smile is composed entirely of sadness, a hope that has made a home of despair evident in your expression. Holding his hand in yours, you guide his soaked fingers between the valley of your breasts to your stomach, where you hold him still.

‘With any luck it will be visible here,’ you offer, hoping he cannot hear how remorse has consumed you.

Hoseok frowns. ‘My biggest fear is that you do become pregnant and that I cannot see my baby grow in you. That I won’t be able to raise our family with you.’

Furrowing your brow, you tilt your head to the side in consideration, battling the new found grief that consumes you. ‘Did you not mean it?’

‘I meant every word,’ he promises, moving his hand from your stomach to cup your cheeks. ‘I’d put twins inside you if I had any control. But you are mine, our family is mine. I curse the gods for taking it from me.’ Hoseok falls silent, and you press your cheek into his hand, turning to kiss his mount of venus in encouragement. ‘The day I met you I saw my life with you,’ he continues, so quiet, and so unlike your Hoseok. ‘You are half of my soul.’

Abruptly, Hoseok lifts himself up and pulls away from you. As he rises to a stand, he is still warmed by your touch, the glow from your magic still draped over his muscles, turning him amber and yellow. He’s incandescent, as much as a god of light as you, more regal and more royal than any man who was lucky enough to slay a beast in your name. Running a hand through his hair, he regards you with dark eyes - embers burning in his rises of lust and longing, devotion and despair. He says nothing at all as he moves, naked and vulnerable, to the back corner of the room where he gathers his tools.

‘What are you doing?’ you hum. Reaching your hand out, you curl onto your side, writhing in the pillow of your discarded clothes, beckoning him back to you. ‘Come back to me. It’s cold without you.’

He says nothing at all as he roots around, pulling out a thick screwdriver and hammer.

‘He will give you rings,’ he says, more to himself than to you.

The words come softly, barely a whisper that cuts through the air. Settling in front of the fog bell on his knees, he begins to hammer the end of the screwdriver into the metal, carving and carving.

‘He will give you flowers,’ he grits out bitterly, ‘and will see your smiles in the morning. He will bring you food and nectar, and he will watch you glow your brightest. He will watch you glow each time you remember my hands on you, my lips on you. In bed, he will watch you glow, thinking it’s him, letting his own ego grow so immense he will get off on his own power rather than you. But he won’t know, not like I do. Not like we do.’

Sitting up, you don’t bother to cover your naked body, the breeze from the sea cooling your dampened skin. Licking your lips, you watch as his muscles strain with his pound of the hammer. Brow narrowed, jaw set, and hands gripping his tools with confidence, he marks the metal with a certainty born from a man learning to combat loneliness.

‘He won’t know,’ he continues, words a grunt of demand and dominion. ‘No one will know that each time he touches you, you are comparing him to me. You will be remembering me. I want you to remember me. I want you to think of me, I want you to look for the light from this beacon, and I want you to outshine the anguish. I am destined to look for you the way so many people look for the North Star. My every storm is guided by you. So don’t you dare forget.’

The fog light spins overhead, clouds passing by and changing the refraction just enough to see the shimmer against his cheeks. Hoseok weeps as he carves, jaw unflinching, and hands steady with determination. A lump rises in the center of your throat, chest tight with the pain that comes from loving someone too much, entirely too much. Gasping for air, you move towards him, wanting his body pressed tightly against yours in comfort.

On instinct, you give him light - more light, so much light. From beneath your skin, you become torchlight, neon, candle flame; wrapping yourself around his back and shoulders, you rest your head on his shoulder and cling to him, becoming sunlight and firewood, banishing the darkness from his mind and mouth, a lamp unto his feet to lead him home. Pressing your lips at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, you feel him tremble beneath you, mindlessly leaning into you for more, endlessly more.

As you turn to watch his hands, your own tears soak the corner of your eyes.

‘Hoseok,’ you breathe, regarding his craftsmanship.

‘He can’t give you light like I can,’ he murmurs, suddenly so small and so young, weakened suddenly by the ever looming distance between you. ‘He can give you all the falsehoods of husbandry, but he can’t give you light. He can’t give it back. He is not your equal like I am.’

Beneath the careful, diligent work of his hammer and screw, your name begins to take shape, just beneath his. The markings are deep, thick scratches unlikely to erode in any substantial length of time. Wind and sea will not wipe your names away, nor snow nor sand. Not even heaven, you think, could cause your names to smear.

When he finishes, the bronze bell glimmers beneath your light, your names encased in a heart he artfully crafted. You imagine it in a wedding band - silver, and not gold. Gold, you think, is too soft and too malleable. The gods prefer it, a sign of eternal wealth and glory, but gold bends. Gold is too impermanent, value placed in all the wrong places. You would give Hoseok platinum, would give him silver, would give him bronze. If you had the power to move the earth, you would give him iron and steel, anything equally as enduring as the way you will be immortalized in ardor.

‘I can’t believe this is all I will have of you.’ Hoseok stares at your names, at the jagged lines he carved into the bell, mourning. Shoulders slumped and hands folded neatly in his lap, he laments quietly to himself as though in prayer. ‘At the end of all this, this is all I have. Your name and a memory.’

Raising your hand to his chin, you turn his face to yours, biting your lip as he cries freely, tears staining the softness of his cheeks with salt.

‘No one will have me, not like you.’ ‘He can take me, he can take my light, he can take my name, but he will never have my heart. All of me belongs to you. I am yours. Swear to me that you are mine.’

The hammer and screwdriver fall to the ground at his knees, a loud clank so disruptive for the quiet paradise you have built at the top of the lighthouse. Enveloping you in his arms, he buries his face in your neck, lips at the center of your throat - a place he has been so often this night you are determined to call it his home - tugging your hair back to make space for him.

‘I’m yours,’ he swears passionately. ‘Not a single person will have me the way I’ve given myself to you. In a thousand summers, not a single one will pass in which I’m not yours.’

The conviction in his words undoes you, your eyes wide as you stare up at the ceiling, at the base of the light, feeling as though there is no difference between the moon and the sun, not anymore. For you, they are interchangeable, each burning in an hour of love; which is to say, there will be no hour that passes in which you do not love him, no hour passing in which your light does not belong to him and his does not belong to you.

‘I wish I could stay like this.’ These affectionate speeches tumble from your lips, your mind empty of misgivings, wishing to be as honest as you are naked. ‘I wish I could stay this way, forever touching you.’

‘Time is meaningless,’ he muses, detached and distant, even as you hold him. ‘For me, this is the end of my life. There will be nothing else after this. For me, it will always be this way. My arms will always be around you.’

For him, you are glad. For him, you are relieved that there shall be no other moment than this.

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

The seaside feels like the edge of destruction after so long away from it, gravity pressing at your bones. From where you stand, the unchanging nature of the earth makes a mockery of your nerves, the past beating against your sternum like a second heart.

You are poised and still, relearning the way the earth is unforgiving compared to the heavens. Too long have you been removed from such a tangible feeling of living, such a tangible reminder that you, too, are made of flesh and blood and all the things that break so easily, just like ocean foam. Your toes bury themselves into the rocky shore, rooting yourself like a tether as a promise that you will not run away, that you will not leave - not again. As though it senses your presence, the sea rages beneath a cloudless sky, the sun’s rays reflecting off the water, illuminated without any need of you.

The lighthouse looms along the hilltop, and you worry your bottom lip as you study its eternal guardianship. All these unchangeable things, loyal without you, and yet you stand here, begging for acceptance. You can hear Hoseok’s words like an echo, words not yet spoken but you anticipate them, the lump in your throat sinister in its tenacity.

How dare you, he will shout, and the tears on his cheeks will be your parting gift. How dare you haunt me here when I did not expect you, when I had already worked so hard to give you up.

Promises in the dead of night are easy to make when the daylight has yet to take anything from you. The earth remains unchanged but you are evidence of the passage of time, and you are certain Hoseok will have warred with himself so completely your memory of him is little more than a ghost of a man who died the moment he woke to find you missing.

He used to be able to sense you here. Back when things were new and things were simple, back even at the end, he would sense your presence along the water and come running, a smile already at his cheeks in welcome. Stroking your naked hip with the tips of his fingers, he told you all about his skin would tingle when you were close, a static on his tongue that told him something too important to be contained by the earth was waiting for him. Even before he knew you, before he knew it was you, he felt it, as though he had been made just to know you, to find you.

It used to be the same for you, a pull to the shore and a lightness of being that always made you stand here, in this place, waiting. Weeks passed before either of you had any idea you were near one another, before you’d even introduced yourself, and now it is the same. Your body combats the change in gravity with strength, though you realize too much has changed in you for the weight to feel the same.

The hair at the back of your neck stands on end, rising in anticipation as the air becomes thick and heavy. You feel him approaching, a magnetic pull against your back that has your posture shifting, pulling you to your full height regardless how heavy all of you feels. Still, he doesn’t close the distance, and your lips part around a sigh, silently asking him to reach for you, to touch you.

But he won’t.

Not when he thinks you are the same as you were. Not when he thinks this is all just a memory.

Closing your eyes, you turn to face him, feeling tears burn against the lids. Hoseok makes no movement towards you, and, unable to hold back any longer, you open your eyes once more, weeping at the sight of him. Chewing at the inside of your cheek, you study the way he looks at you, the way his gaze traverses your form with a pained expression, the knot in his brow visible even from a distance. He’s far from you, far enough you cannot touch him, but he, too, remains unchanged - still beautiful, still glorious, still the sun king himself, and you choke back a bitter cry at the way it seems only you are the one who was allowed to change.

‘Hello,’ you try, offering a weak and unsteady smile.

Hoseok says nothing as he closes the distance, eyes trained at your middle, focused enough you feel him move inside you. He lets himself get close, close enough your skin calls out to his eagerly, begging him to touch you. You can smell him on the wind, the same musk, the same ambergris, the same dust that you remember, and your hands twitch at your sides, straining to reach out to him.

‘What is this?’ he manages, not looking you in the face.

‘I -’ A small cry cuts you off, and you press your hand to your lips, forcing yourself to keep your composure.

Hearing the anguish in your voice, he raises his gaze to yours and you see the way he mirrors your pain, confused and bewildered.

‘Tell me what this is,’ he whispers, fierce and demanding.

‘It’s exactly how it looks,’ you explain, feeling terribly pathetic.

It’s so simple, you know. Absolutely obvious. Your pregnant belly sticks out far enough now it leaves a distance between you, a gap where your child grows the only thing that separates you.

‘Did you come here to mock me?’ he spits, leaning forward with venom.

‘No!’ you exclaim, holding your hand up in surrender. ‘I…’ you drift off, uncertain where to begin. You decide, perhaps, it’s best to begin with the truth. ‘The baby is yours.’

Hoseok’s expression shatters, a thousand different feelings breaking over his face before he settles on disbelief and quiet rage.

‘Why would you show me this?’ he pleads, sounding so small. ‘Have I not suffered enough? You knew I wished for this and now you tease me with it?’

‘I’m not here to show you anything, Hoseok, and certainly not to cause you pain.’ It’s shocking how tired you are becoming, putting in the effort of not reaching for him, not weeping for him, not rushing to an end you both deserve. ‘They...rejected me,’ is all you manage in the end.

Hoseok sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes watering as he lowers his focus to your belly once more. ‘They stopped the wedding?’

He speaks so softly you almost do not hear him over the rolling tide, and now, you cannot be contained. In one swift motion, you reach for his hand twining your fingers together. Your hold on him is unrelenting, not allowing him a single escape. Feeling his palm against yours is all the motivation you need, a resurgence of energy you have been missing for months.

When you continue to remain silent, he narrows his brow and persists. ‘Are you unmarried?’

‘They were going to go through with,’ you explain quickly, not allowing him any room for interjection. ‘They were going to make me marry him. Daeus even said he’d give the child to a human family, make it go through a Hero’s Journey to join us back in Teylim. Gods, the fight I put up to stop that from happening. The Fate Tying went poorly,’ you finish with a sardonic grin.

Gently, you tug Hoseok against you, forcing his stomach to bump against yours. His heated breath cascades over your skin, and you sigh in pleasure.

‘The child is completely human, my love,’ you whisper, eyes searching his face. ‘The Moirai refused to untie us.’ Incredulous, you laugh, looking out over the grassy hill in wonder. ‘The old crones are always right.’

The weight of your explanation steals Hoseok’s breath, and he falls against you, clinging to you as he sobs into your shoulder. Holding him close, you remember the last time you were in this position, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt, your hands clutching him, unwilling to be removed. As though sensing the great wave of his emotion, the child in your belly stirs abruptly, pressing against your womb to get his attention.

You jump slightly at the feel of it, and Hoseok looks down, laughing, incandescent in his joy. He brings his hand to your belly, touching softly at where your child had just been, and he sniffles, looking to you and back down, cheeks reflecting the light you suddenly cannot contain.

‘It’s a girl,’ you state, always wondering how he would react to knowing he’d have a daughter. ‘Our daughter kept me with you.’

Falling to his knees, he holds your belly in his hands and presses his forehead against its peak, too overcome with emotion to utter a word. Instead, he simply breathes deeply, wrought with bliss. Lowering a hand to the crown of his head, you thread your fingers through your hair and think that this, this precise moment, is what it means to be a goddess.

This is what it means to truly be sanctified.

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genshin-impact-fics · 3 years

Text

Streamer!Genshin Reacting to Character!(Y/N) Dying in Game

!Warning!: Major character deaths & angst

Characters: Diluc, Venti, Childe, & Zhongli

Diluc:

It was a race to get inside one of the bases of the Abyss Order to put a stop to whatever plans they were in the process of executing that could potentially put many lives in danger. Diluc was rather calm while playing though it would be a lie to say that it wasn’t a bit annoying that the route to the domain was timed

It was once inside the domain did things pick up fast as it seemed to be a fighting wave system which after beating the first two rooms there was a short scene where in the end Lisa and Amber stayed behind to hold off the incoming enemies so the rest of the group could go further. It seemed like forever doing some of the puzzles to unlock the doors to reach the next fight

In that fourth room after the defeat of hilichurls and abyss mages did suddenly a short cut scene appear to show the appearance of an Abyss Lector. As remembering how much he hated fighting this guy in the spiral abyss he already knew what he was in for; however that was until your character stepped forward with your weapon ready. Diluc was actually sad to have to leave you behind as he was hoping that you’d be one of the characters that went with him to the very end

“I think I’ve watched enough shows and movies to know what this could be leading up to.” He’d comment to his viewers as he finally reached the destination where the Abyss Herald was. Finishing the fight triggered another cutscene as the traveler’s sibling appeared and was making their small speech, asking if the lives of the “friends” the traveler made were worth losing

Diluc is watching with a straight face as he kinda expected this but the who was what he wasn’t sure about and truthfully the only one he’d be truly heartbroken about is your death, but they wouldn’t kill you now of all times right? Wrong; soon the cutscene finally came across where they had left you and you were leaning against the wall extremely injured with your weapon laying beside you. Diluc is frowning cuz he has to watch you die now

Listening to your final words as you spoke to no one Diluc would sulk in his chair a little. In the last moment before your eyes closed, if you mentioned something about not getting to tell his character your true feelings it is visible that Diluc looks like he wants to cry(but he doesn't). Once the screen showed the mission complete he’d grab the plush he had of your character and hold it looking at his camera. “Of all the characters I thought were going to die, I wasn’t ready for it to be (y/n).” At that point he’d probably call it a day from there but he’d still talk to his viewers as he probably would watch the tribute videos that fans had already made

Venti:

Everything was in chaos as it looked like archon war 2 was going to be taking place, but this time it was a war between the Abyss Order and the Archons. He was heading to Mondstadt to help and to check on you. Dvalin was flying around sending attacks at the abyss members. “Ah traveler there you are!” The sound of your voice as you landed before him; as weird as it was to see you in your archon robes was odd but you looked so good! After a short conversation you had gone flying off and it was time to get back to fighting

Things were looking good as it seemed like they were winning against the abyss order though it wasn’t over yet. It was until up in the air did a cutscene starting showing you and the traveler’s sibling fighting going at it. Venti is so captivated by how serious and cool you look fighting, but it all changed when the sibling landed a blow that caused you to fall from the sky ending up falling into the Whispering Woods

Venti couldn’t run fast enough to get to the woods to check up on you but when he did the first thing he saw was the sibling standing before you. He’s already sad and yelling at the sibling for hurting you though it seemed that now he was there the sibling went and disappeared revealing the real condition you were in. “No, no, no! This better not mean (y/n)’s dying.” He’d say in denial as he’s already starting to cry a little

“A-Ah Windblume h-haha… Sorry you have to see me like this.” Even in a moment like this you gave him such a cheesy grin until you seemed to grimace in pain. “Unfortunately it seems like… This is it for me. As long as the winds blow I will always be with you, so please watch over Mondstadt for me.” Your words were making Venti cry as it was like back in your story quest but only ten times worse. And to think it was already painful as it was your next words that did him in. “Maybe in another life we will find each other again and maybe then we can be together.”

Watching you start to glow until you turned into partials of light till nothing of you was left, Venti is devastated. The chat is crying with him as he’s saying how awful it was that his sibling had killed the love of his life! His viewers are going to send him fanart and fics to look at that was an alternative that you lived in the game

Childe:

It was a big fight with the confrontation of the Fatui Harbingers, facing off against one of the other stronger members that blocked the path to proceed to seeing the Tsaritsa. The boss’ first stage was fine; however during the second stage it seemed after losing a certain amount of health the damage that Childe was dealing significantly decreased.

It was when the cutscene started that Childe was already dreading the foul legacy form he’d be facing this time. You suddenly came out of nowhere and already in your foul legacy form yourself Childe is going crazy over how cool you look; he’s also swooning at the fact that you’ve come to his rescue. The fighting progressed until you landed a successful hit that weakened the other harbinger; however, at that same time the other harbinger managed to hit you with a powerful attack

Childe is screaming at the sight of your mask breaking while you fell to the ground. He’s so glad that his character is running over to check on you instead of the fight picking right up, but he’s already feeling the feels hit him hard cuz he hates seeing you hurt. Seeing you back to normal, the damage you sustained was really bad; then the worst thought came to his mind. “This-This better not be what I think it is,” he’s saying not looking away from the screen listening to you weakly talk

“Haha don’t give me that look sweetie, I couldn’t just let this be where your journey ends.” Hearing those words and the nickname you used for his character was sad. “To think we’d be able to travel together more, but hey… Promise you won’t stop fighting and could you look after my siblings for me.” Childe is literally crying now that the reality of the situation is clear. If he gets a choice of dialog to choose from he is going to pick the choice that says that he pinky promises

If your character smiled at the choice he wanted to smile but he’s also just sad, you were dying in his character's arms. If you had given a small love confession in the little bit of life that was in you, he’s going to ugly sob and once the fight was starting again he needs to pause by going into his bag

Immediately he goes getting his big plush of you and coming back to hug it and cleaning his tears with his sleeve before looking at the camera. “I wasn’t ready for this, my baby!” He was not expecting to be losing you; he figured that some characters would possibly die but you were the last character he thought would be killed off in the game. There’s Fs in the chat all around and the crying emote; it’s sad boi hours in this chili’s. He doesn't wanna do the fight but also he gotta avenge you so this last stage fight was for you. Afterwards he’s gonna go look at fanart and video edits

Zhongli:

After helping some of the other nations and their archon’s fend off the abyss order it was time he headed to Liyue to find you. Of course as usual it wasn’t going to be as easy as running around the harbor until he got word from Xiao that you were in Cuijue Slope. So he headed over to help you before anything seriously bad could happen to you

Getting to the open area there you were fighting against the sibling as you were even in your archon robes. Going in and interrupting the fight his sibling clearly looked annoyed and proceeded to try to get him to side with them which of course he didn’t. A Herald appeared to allow the sibling to get away which the fight with the Herald commenced

Just when Zhongli finished up the fight thinking he had won it strangely went to a cutscene as his character and you started to talk; however it was when the fallen Herald came out of nowhere about to attack his character but must to his surprise you shielded him not only taking the hit, but also using your elemental burst to finish off the enemy. Zhongli is frowning at how badly you were hurt as he already has a bad feeling this wasn’t going to end good; the traveler was helping you sit up after having fallen over

“I’m glad to see that you aren’t hurt my friend.” You said as you certainly have seen better days. “Sadly I believe my time has come… Do not be sad dear friend, I have lived many many years… As knowing you has been life changing. Though rocks change from erosion, know that no time will change how I felt about you.” Your words broke his heart as you had such a soft expression on your face as your body began to glow and before he knew it you turned into particles of light and disappeared. He probably wouldn’t cry at most maybe a tear but he is clearly upset about your passing in game and would take a break to talk to his viewers and maybe look at the fanart that surprisingly had been put out already

#streamer au #streamer!genshin x character!reader #genshin x reader #genshin scenario #genshin imagines #genshin diluc #diluc x y/n #childe x reader #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #venti the bard #genshin venti #venti x y/n #zhongli #genshin zhongli #zhongli x y/n #angst

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merakiui · 3 years

Text

Half-Off Love

yandere!scaramouche x (gender neutral) reader art credit - kentasha1236 on twt cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, gold-digging, implied yandere!childe note - thank you so much for 600 followers! o(≧∇≦o) I’ll work hard!

It’s strange. There’s no other adjective to describe the situation you’ve found yourself in.

The ring slides itself onto your steady finger and it’s a miracle your discomfort doesn’t show. Your eyes struggle to meet his, but when they do you’re searching for a reason—for a meaning behind such a generous gift. You’ve witnessed this scene plenty of times before, having scoffed at the couples who decide to take their relationship to the next level. Whether it be in Mondstadt or Liyue, you’ve watched your fair share of angelic proposals. Although this is far from a proposal—at least, you hope it’s not a proposal. You’d feel powerless to decline if Scaramouche put you in such a position, and you’re almost certain he’s aware of this.

But the main thing—you now realize—that’s holding him back is your status and his relationship with you. It’s nothing special, just mere physical attraction rather than the emotional hindrances that come with real, heart-racing love. There’s nothing wholesome in the way you regard one another; it’s just sex.

“Do you like it? I made sure to find only the highest quality gemstone for you.”

And yet when he performs this caring charade, it doesn’t feel like loveless copulation.

Ew, you think, plastering a smile to your face. Since when was Scaramouche so concerned with materialistic signs of affection? He’s far from loving; he’s just pent-up, frustrated from his rigorous job as a Harbinger and so he decides to use you as a means of coping. He almost sounds like Childe with his ineffective flirting methods. You’ve received your fair share of spoils from him as well, and you’ve done everything you could to cull that relationship before it grew out of hand. But now you’re stuck with the lesser side of the coin: another troublesome Fatui Harbinger.

If you didn’t know any better, you might think to chase after Signora or Dottore next. Maybe you’ll aim for the Tsaritsa Herself if you’re especially daring. After all, your life has been nothing but deceit and faux pleasures; there’s little value to a liar’s life. If the Archons wish for your swift end, you’re positive it’ll be a result of your insatiable greed.

“It’s lovely. The color matches my eyes.”

It doesn’t, but you lie about it anyways. And he looks pleased to hear your approval.

“Then perhaps I should get you a bracelet as well? Or would you prefer something with a little more use, such as a pocket watch?”

Why don’t you just lock me up with a collar instead? you think bitterly, already keen on pawning the ring off once the initial luster fades. Since you’re so eager to buy these things for me in hopes that I’ll return. It’s annoying.

“This is more than enough. I don’t want you to spend a fortune on me.” There’s a sweet lilt in your voice as your hand cups his cheek, and he leans into your warm touch, starved of the affection like a stray mutt. ”I only need you per our agreement. You do remember what that is, right?”

He’d be caught dead bending to the desires of someone so insignificant, but he just can’t stay away. Not when your every word is intoxicating poison he’ll readily ingest.

“I’m aware." There’s a sigh in his tone as he pulls away, almost as if he wants to simply sit there and indulge in playful conversation. As if he actually wants to familiarize himself with the real you. But that emotion doesn’t last for long and an irritated expression crawls onto his handsome face as he silently recalls something.

You’re slipping your silks off with grace, curiously tracking his movements. “You look upset. Was it because of what I said?”

“Of course not. You could never upset me.”

Until you get bored of me.

When you cast your robes aside, reaching for Scaramouche’s elaborate outfit, you murmur, “Let me guess. It was that traveler again, wasn’t it? I’m not sure why you’re so hung up on them.” A whimper leaks into your voice and you fix him with a pout. “I’m sad you’d think of others when I’m right here. Aren’t I the only one you need?”

It’s ironic how quickly that line hooks him, dragging him up from the murkiest depths of love that has skewed into obsession. When you tried it out on Childe, he wasn’t so easily swayed. You find their differences to be invigorating. If the arrangement with Childe was still ongoing, you might’ve considered a threesome, if only to wring more glittering treasures out of the both of them. Mora and jewelry galore, it all goes towards your stockpiled savings. And it’s times like these when you’re lucky to have avoided economic business with the Fatui. Being free of Fatui debt has its perks, a bright miracle in your dark relationships. That’s one less tether to Scaramouche and one less reason to cling to him after you’ve had enough.

He smirks at your forced envy, easily pushing you backwards onto the plush mattress once he’s fully undressed. For a brief moment, he pictures your pliant body sprawled across an office desk while he pounds into you from behind, putting on a lewd show for his leering underlings. There’s something arousing about your secret relationship that has strange ideas formulating within his head. He entertains a simple scheme, one in which he’d shed light on your connection; however, the other side of him wants to keep your existence for himself, where no one will disturb the two of you in your pleasurable endeavors.

Perhaps you would truly belong to him if he were to expose you for the fraud you really are. Oh, the joy of trapping an unsuspecting rat in a corner, with no way out but into his open arms. You’ll hardly have any semblance of a choice, but he knows you’ll choose the option that guarantees another chance at life.

Scaramouche thinks about that as he revels in soft, tantalizing foreplay. He knows you aren’t as dedicated to this relationship as he is and he’s almost certain you’ve got others waiting for you in different parts of Teyvat. He’s just another plaything you’ve picked up for the fun of it. And in these moments where you surrender to his touch, your back arching with avaricious thoughts, you seem to forget about the power he truly wields. The thought that he could suffocate you in this very bed with his love alone should have you taking precautions to cover your vulnerability, but you only have your eyes set on one thing—not exactly minding the outcome so long as it’s monetarily favorable.

And if playing into your covetous hands ensures your weekly arrival, he’ll gladly empty his pockets of spare change.

You don’t like this new side of him. Lately he’s been treating this as if the two of you are lovers: slow, sensual thrusts accompanied with the sweetest of promises. You’ve never really minded the filth he’d moan in your ear and now you wish he’d resort to that instead. Loveless words spoken through the veil of lust—that’s what you want to hear.

He envelops you like a smothering fog, fitting himself snugly inside of your tight hole in an embrace that’s oh so familiar. You aren’t used to such gentle treatment and as he kisses along your collarbone you feel yourself going under, having fallen victim to a Harbinger who is normally so cold-hearted. Perhaps he’s more sensitive than you originally thought. Months ago, you wouldn’t have imagined your relationship would grow into something so uncertain, where emotionless love becomes packaged and bogged down with so much feeling.

His lips ghost over yours and there’s a slight pause in his actions. You turn your head to the side, denying his choking affection before it can drag you further into a spiraling abyss of regret. Annoyance swells in his hazy gaze, but he uses your new position to his advantage.

“It’s cute,” he says in a hushed voice, breath tickling your ear, “how you seem to rid yourself of my gifts as soon as they fall into your hands. I wonder where they’ve gone. Into the harbor? Traded off for food and shelter? Do tell me.”

When his grip on your hip tightens to a threatening degree, you resign yourself, opting to hold your tongue as his pace remains brutally slow. Rather than speaking out of line, you raise your hand to his face, and he clasps your wrist in a forceful hold.

The look in his eyes is far from loving—it’s that same obsessed expression Childe wore. And even if he still searches for you for reasons other than sex, you’re aware there’s no luck where Scaramouche is concerned. You can run from Childe because he’ll allow it—because he adores the chase—but Scaramouche hardly finds delight in a game of cat and mouse. You should’ve expected this. After all, he is just as conniving as the rest, always inventing new ways to track down and eradicate that peculiar traveler. Of course he would know about how you handle his presents when he isn’t looking because there’s no denying the stern gazes that would pierce through your backside whenever you went to the market.

"I’d never throw them out like that...” you mumble through another soft moan, hoping he’ll just pick up the pace and be done with you. “Your gifts are priceless.”

And yet the price for your own love is so hefty. If he weren’t Fatui, it might be enough to throw him into lifelong debt.

“Is that so? You seem to put a price on them whenever you visit the marketplace.” His fingers grip your chin, forcing you into an inescapable eye contact. “If you enjoy putting prices on items that you claim are priceless, you won’t mind if I collect a refund for your dishonesty.”

“A...refund?”

Your lustful thoughts evaporate once you realize his pace has become horribly slow, his dick stilling and creating an itch of barely noticeable ecstasy. You wiggle your hips to increase the friction, wanting to get yourself off before his words can sour the mood. Though it’s already spoiled when you recognize the carnal victory shining in his twisted smirk. Your unfortunate fate was sealed the moment you welcomed his company with foolish openness, and you’ve been indebted ever since he decided to spoil you with lavish foods and accessories.

For love that is far from cheap, interest must be paid and your very being makes for the perfect bargain.

It’s weird when he kisses you on your lips rather than on the parts of your body that are normally obscured with delicate cloth. And it’s even weirder when that metaphorical collar binds your throat in a vice. It’s more harrowing than any sort of debt you might’ve garnered and it’s just as inconvenient as his boyish adoration.

Scaramouche doesn’t have to purchase your flimsy, half-off love when it’s already prepackaged and ready for the taking.

“You heard me. A refund is hardly enough punishment for a lying brat, but it will have to suffice for now.”

For now.

Spurred on by his own insinuating threats, he seeks to bruise your very insides with thrusts that are filled with physical vexation rather than the emotional ministrations from before. And since you’re so accustomed to him, your greedy hole eagerly welcomes him.

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact lemon #scaramouche lemon #yandere scaramouche #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere genshin impact scaramouche #n/sfw #i'd like to write a part two #please enable me orz

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gojoho · 3 years

Text

PATIENCE

• pairing; au!ryomen sukuna x reader

• premise; you were different than the rest, and with a simple touch the devil makes peace with his boredom for the taste of your skin.

• words; 2,798

• note & warning; every time i proofread what my demon chose to write at three in the morning i cry. why am i like this? honestly, i had so much trouble with sukuna it's amazing that i found a ground to make this on. anyway...unprotected sex ( wrap it up or pack it up ), dirty language, ownership, creampie-breeding kink? i never know which one it is, these mfs just never pullout. enjoy i suppose?

Sukuna was accustomed to the cults that proudly proclaimed him as their leader, or better yet, The Chosen. False disciples to his name, many of which tried to justify their treacherous lives in comparison to his glory. A pathetic bunch he wasted little time over, not one of them much of a rivalry towards that of a king. Though your blood was far too innocent, even for a ruthlessly being as himself, he would not take on such a burdened responsibility. Having been blamed for far less, he wouldn’t live this one down. Feasibly the only reason death escaped you.

Obsession, fascination, none of which seemed that far from one another with him, nor did it matter. At any capacity mortals were tedious, their petty materialistic need; gold this, that, and whatnot. Maybe he was just bored, but then he wouldn’t be giving you much credit, would he? He was quite patient for his tetchy personality, letting you grow accustomed to his territory, where you’d spend the rest of your days. A cub seeing the pride lands for the first time.

“Follow the rules, and you’ll do just fine little cub.” You never shied from his touch, letting him indulge your soft skin, squeezing, nipping, kissing every and anywhere he pleased. But your worth was still up for question thus far, what did you bring that the others couldn’t.

“Open.” You would sit between his legs, knees bent to his divinity abiding every command. Allowing his salty fingers against your tongue, their cleanliness unbeknownst to everyone except him, but it only made you suck on them more. “So eager for me to ruin you.”

That made two of you, but he wouldn’t, not just yet.

He kept you, his precious new pet, close. Allowing your scent to fill his bed, swarm his clothes, and plague him with a hunger driven by an appetite that was you. It wasn’t as if he didn’t trust you, he didn’t trust anyone, but he did trust your behavior. The way you managed to curl up against him at night, your soft snores fanning his back, no matter how much space there was in his bed. How you followed behind him everywhere he went, involuntarily making things less...irritating. Yet your consistency didn’t extend towards the others. Vicious and vengeful, they’d see to it that he’d fall by any means necessary. Even if it meant going through you or letting it be by your own hand.

“Cub,” he’d call you over, legs wide and waiting. You’d mount him facing forward, shamelessly letting your body unwind against his touch.

Fingers working the robes from your frame with ease, instant access to the skin beneath. All while his lips worked around your neck, touching up his handiwork of pink and purple blotches around it. The product of every session. Before he’d break you off, truly make you his, preparation was in order. It’s started with your chest, his hold over your bosom, the small mouthes in each hand working their peaks. Swirling sucking nibbling away at their tenderness until you’d grind against his bulge. Drenching him with your arousal. Clothes only got in his way, he’d have you roam around naked if he pleased but that was sight met only for his eyes, and his alone. Your robes, makeshift Sukuna hand-me-downs, was a barrier between the world and what was his.

After all, it was his touch that made you a mess. ”You're already so wet for me, little cub. Maybe I'll fuck you tonight. Maybe.”

He moved a hand to your heat, parted your folds with two slender fingers while the other hand still devoured your nipple. Sukuna was greedy, common knowledge to anyone who came across the curse, but with a hunger driven by your flesh, he was more insatiable than ever. It wouldn't be long until you were writhing in his lap, every bit of noise coming from your lips. Crying out as he worked your orgasm with his fingers plunged deep in your depths and the tongue on his palm lapping at your clit feverishly.

”Kuna,” you'd mewl, with arms stretched up to his face. The only person still alive to say it let alone give him a nickname.

The rules were simple;

Speak when spoken too

Eye contact

No kissing

A cruel rule that reminded you what the relationship was. He wasn't your lover or anything to you. You belonged to him and he'd use you however he saw fit. If that meant raw dogging you, believe he'd fuck you silly.

Simple, but still difficult nonetheless. He watched your face upturn in admiration, eyes flickering between his and his lips with each whimper. You wanted to kiss him, have his tongue so far down your throat until you choked. Sukuna knew all too well the look you gave him and smirked pressing his fingers deeper, taking your wanton ones to hold his cheek into his mouth. The closet you've gotten to a kiss, but soon your eyes would wander to mess that was your body, watching him unravel your seams, the first orgasm shuddered throughout you.

The first time he had his way, you'd barely made it past one orgasm from his fingers. Now it was six, with at most his fingers and three mouths. He wondered if you’d handle his cock if thrown into the mix. With that thought alone his mind wandered, you handled his hands well but the mystery behind your lips made him twitch just thinking about it. A pretty face with such a content expression, so grateful he granted you a full mouth. Could you handle all of him? If you could, he would've taken what was already his, turned you inside out, and left your body useless to any other being but him.

He deprived himself of a release, letting it build along his thighs and boil at the deepest parts of his body. You were going to take it all from him, feed his hunger while he quenched yours. Truly teaching you what it meant to belong to Ryomen Sukuna, The Great King of Curses.

Each session left you craving more, made your hips sink further against his moving in pure need. Sukuna let you wallow in your tension, desire unkempt and rowdy beneath his nose. You were conflicted between the logic prancing your mind and the hunger of your heat. Where the thought of him feeding you more than just a few fingers made it throb for a release, to be relieved from the fear that kept it empty and unfulfilled.

You'd missed the comfort his presence brought to the bed when pressing matters stole his attention, without it sleep was surreal. Eluding your conscience till he would come back late into the morning, exhaustion settling through the afternoon if he allowed you to. Until one afternoon where he’d prepare to set off again, another village another reign of terror, Sukuna almost missed the tiny grasp at his robes. The few steps he took towards to the exit fell short by his other end.

”Please,” you'd whisper out pleading for him to stay with a mere word.

For a minute, with his sudden stride and grip over your jaw, you think it's enough. That the way he searched your eyes with his bright red pair, you thought you’d convince him. ”If you expect me to abandon my duties for that cunt of yours, you’re going to have to try harder than that little cub.”

His lips ghosted yours, taunting that separate ache from the rest of your body. Practically testing you to see if you’d break one of his rules; screaming to go ahead, kiss him.

”Well then?” he cooed, lips nearly there but your silence only irritated him. Did he spoil you too much, indeed give you too much credit and mistaken you for something you weren't—

”Please Kuna, I need you.”

”Cute…” He smirked, thumb slipping between the two of you teasing your bottom lip. ”No.”

It was a lie if he said he wouldn't turn you around right there and give in to the temptation. Fill your womb with what felt like decades' worth of his cum. Staining his sheets and your insides. Sukuna already knew you needed him, it was because of that need, that the light in your eyes settled to a palpable glow. Later completely gone by the time of his return.

Sukuna never thought to imagine you upset, not with the way you clung to him. Never did he think it would upset him as much as it did. You slept far from his end of the bed, shielding your body from his touch with the linen. The nerve of you, but he knew it was only a matter of time until he’d have you in his lap again.

Wrong.

Too much time had passed since he denied you of your request, too much time since he’s touched you, too much time since you’ve touched him.

“Cub” he called, but for the first time, he was met with hesitance.

You sat on his lap, back to his chest as per usual, but without your usual excitement. Nothing he couldn’t fix, and like always he started with your chest, getting you to flood over his crotch. By then Sukuna would’ve gotten at least a whimper but you remain uncharacteristically quiet to his touch, jabbing at his ego. Come to find out you’d bitten your lip, holding off from letting him hear just how good he was making you feel.

“Brat,” he hissed with the teeth in his hand nibbling at nothing but your clit but even then the most he got was a huff. “Fine, if that’s how you want to play this game.”

It didn’t take much to lift you up from his chair, face planting you straight into the bed. You yelp at the sudden grip over your waist as it hauls your bottom half into to air. This was far from what he planned, but he’d be a fool to let you carry on with your childish ways.

There was no protest with the way he positioned himself to his knees behind you, shedding himself of his robes, setting his cock free into the late-night air. You would never shy away from looking at him naked, curious of every black line, where they connected and didn’t connect. Still, only catching brief glimpses of him, but now that it was there before you—just one taste, that was enough right? It would make any man happy to hide his cock in a pretty mouth like yours, burying it far beneath your throat, hell it made Sukuna weigh his options but he was beyond horny and irritated.

He gifts himself a few strokes, over your cunt, introducing it to its owner. Coating himself in the mix of his salvia and your arousal before pushing the tip past the slick gates of his personal Eden. He sunk into your bowels just past the tip before meeting the resistance of your walls. There was no distinction as to whether you’d been too tight or that he was too big, just that it made him want more. A snug fit, one in which he yearned to destroy, leaving you walls irreversibly stretched.

Your arms flailed around, desperate to find anything to grip onto but Sukuna didn’t give you much of a chance before introducing the rest of his inches to your heat.

“Fuck,” you whined. A squeak of unbearable amazement that all of him was inside you. “Wait.”

He was going to bury himself down to the hilt, each time, fuck you till you were a simpleton. It was always his intention to do so, but your impatience got the best of him.

”Quiet, ” he growled spreading your ass to see himself encased by your insides. Surprisingly you swallowed him whole, but he was sure if you kept squirming away it’d be even more painful. ”This is what you wanted, wasn't it? My cock in this slutty hole of yours.”

”Kuna please.”

”Please Kuna, I need you—is that not what you said?”

”Yes…but fuck—”

”Well now you got me, so keep fucking still and take it.” He shooed your pleading palm from his view and adjusted himself. The movement drove him deeper and you mewled beneath him like a feral feline.

A draft followed behind his pelvis as he pulled out only about halfway, your pussy gripping him as he did. He didn’t trust you wouldn’t squirm again and anchored your hips to his grip. Snapping into you once more, stretching more than his previous thrust.

Sukuna took pride in the size of his cock, in the way it left room for only one, only him. You were going to split in two, or at least it felt like it; he was so big, out of place, but just big. Though that was merely the calm before the storm, with no confirmation let alone sign to warn you, he moved again. Starting off with a strong rhythm that rocked the entire bed. He didn’t do slow, his adjective was to punish, ruin, destroy exactly why you were to be prepared.

With a guttural groan, you felt his cock work, biting against the linens as it drilled in and out of your slickness, squelching all around it.

“Listen to that,” he cooed. “Telling me to wait when your pussy sounds like this. I’m going to fill you up so well. Is that what you want kitten?”

Kitten…

An upgrade from little cub you suppose. The harder he goes, the louder both ends of your body get. Wanted was putting it loosely, it was something, if not the only thing, you needed. Yet it’s still not enough, and so Sukuna stops, leaving you lost to the pleasure he provided. Still full with his cock you moan, pleading for him to continue, eyes barely open and lips pierced by your top teeth. “You know the rules. Speak.”

Bucking against him, desperate for any friction, you whined. “Kuna.”

“Whining gets you nowhere,” He said teasing you with slow strokes in time with your desperate hips. “Answer. The. Question.”

“Yes, ” You were begging for it, the high fading from the mind a little too quickly. ”I need it, all of it.”

Now that you stroked his pride, it was only fair he’d returned the favor. Fleeing from their post against your chest, Sukuna’s hands reach up to your throat. Pulling you up to your own knees, squeeze gently. Pumping into your dripping cunt faster, harder, deeper. Strumming at the chords of your orgasm with each lewd noise he pulled with his cock. Saliva dribbling from your chin.

“Look at you,” he grunted, his own pleasure catching up to him. “Drooling from both ends.”

“Sukuna.”

He leaned into your hands, giving permission for them to tug at his roots, while he nuzzled his nose over your cheek, taking in every crude scent. “Hmm, fucking perfect.”

A compliment if he’d ever given you one, his irritation fleeing from his body and the only thing he can think about is just how good it felt to finally be inside you. The ache of his cock finally being milked. His hand traveled down your body, caressed every curve, every nipple until they settled on your hips.

”Get down, and open up for me.” he ordered quietly, letting his pace falter before getting an obedient ’hmm’

Anything for Sukuna, anything that brought on your orgasm. You arched forward and parted your knees wider, sighing from his hand over your ass again. Kneading and pulling each cheek apart. Picking up the pace again, he wanted to see his cock twitch inside you. See how your body would react. Sukuna wanted to see the mess he made of your hole.

You let a series of colorful curses fly, it was hard to say anything with the explosion inside you, the heat itching just beneath your skin as the adrenaline spiked and rocked you into oblivion.

“Sukuna,” you managed to say but he already knew, feeling the coiling contraction refusing to let him go. A deadly grip that sucked his orgasm through.

The visible veins around his cock, throbbing beneath the thin layer of skin. Slightly moving as the rest of his length spasmed violently against the confines of your flutters. ”Fuck, look at you go, milking me dry.”

His cum wasn't as fluid as it was thick, weeks of pent up lust oozing from your folds. But it meant nothing more but for Sukuna to click his tongue and thrust forward gently a few more times. Fucking it all back into you. Your body twitched ”Oi, shape up, I've only just begun. Besides, I want to try that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You were going to ruin him, as he was you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader #gojoho

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velvett-tearss · 3 years

Text

Checkmate — Eren Jaeger

summary: A vicious cycle where you and Eren fight over who gets to light the match while dousing each other in gasoline.

warnings: toxic relationship, manipulation, domestic altercation, slut-shaming, gaslighting, cheating, heavy cursing, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol and marijuana use, fem!reader (she/her)

genre: modern au, angst (?)

word count: 3.4k

a/n: my venus scorpio hates to love Eren lmao pls don’t think this is a healthy relationship, (lmk if i forgot any other warnings pls), this was on repeat while i wrote, hope you enjoy it <3 (again, pls lmk if I missed anything!) and stay safe!

You knew it was wrong. Everything about you and him was wrong. Nothing could justify it anymore, you knew that much. You didn't think you could lose yourself in the game, but you had.

And, all of it was Eren's fault.

He didn't worry about feelings, responsibilities, or duty. He didn't care if he came back later than he said he would you, if he left you waiting in that pretty dress you had picked out just for him.

And, you loathed that about him. You loathed that Eren Jaeger was free. Totally and utterly free of everything and anything. Nothing would hold him back. He wouldn't allow it to come to pass.

He had his freedom, but you had something else.

You questioned things when you weren't satisfied with the answer you had been given. You did things just to see what would happen after. You pushed people just to see how long it would take from them to fall over the edge.

You had often been told you were simply too much to deal with. That you pushed people's buttons until they no longer wanted to be around you. That you stole parts of their sanity until they had no choice other than to run away.

But, you never saw it like that. You didn't mean to be a parasite who ate away at people's peace and patience. You simply liked testing your boundaries.

So, you preferred the word curious.

Maybe Eren had been walking around the earth without shackles his entire life, but you knew everyone was a prisoner to something, even someone like him.

Naturally, you wanted to see what it would take for Eren to break. He was so shameless, so completely free of any care in the world. Eren obeyed his own rules and his alone. He was such an inconsistent asshole half the time, but you couldn't help yourself.

You wouldn't forgive yourself if you had looked away from that charming smile and those pretty teal eyes.

Despite the facade of him being a simple-minded person, you found out what was truly hiding underneath the mask.

Eren was intemperate with a sharp tongue and a loud mouth. He did things his way, and there would be no other option. There was such a mix of emotions boiling inside him, it was like it was asking to be disrupted.

How could you not indulge yourself?

You knew it would be gratifying to see how he would react when backed into a corner. Would he cry like the others? Would he fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness? Or, would he shut down?

How long would it take for him to leave you?

Eren was already known to be hot-headed, and you wondered what it was like to burn. You figured it wouldn't take long to find out how far you could push him. He was the crybaby type, so you didn't think he would be hard to crack.

But, he wasn't like the others.

See, Eren Jaeger wasn't a person who would easily crack. He wasn't the guy who gave up under pressure. In fact, he was the complete opposite. He was a fighter, and he would stop at nothing till victory was his.

It was only too bad for him that you were the same. Your thirst would only be quenched when you saw him break. You needed it more than you had ever needed anything.

You pushed, and he pushed harder. You shouted, and he shouted louder. You bitched and moaned and complained and did awful things to him, and Eren did them right back.

It was an endless cycle between the two of you.

You would do something to tick him off. Maybe it was telling him how Jean looked so sexy in black or how Armin's intelligence was out of this world you didn't know how he wasn't dating anyone.

Perhaps you were a parasite who ate away at your own liberty to do what you wished. You stretched yourself to push him into a corner, and it always worked.

Whatever it was, Eren would explode on you. You knew it pushed his buttons, it fucked with his mind, and that's why you did it. Because maybe it would be the day he finally gave in to the pain you inflicted on him and leave you for good.

Sometimes it would be him doing something that rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps you wore something too short, so he called you a whore before fucking you like one. Or, he didn't answer your texts all night because he was with God-knows-who.

You shouted at him, called him all sorts of different names, and even trashed his apartment if you felt like it. Eren would fight with you, blame you for pushing him far enough as to dip a toe in the unforgiving pool of infidelity, and the two of you wouldn't speak for a week or so.

"I can't even walk around my own damn apartment without you being so annoying!" Eren shouted with so much force you held back a flinch. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, green eyes wondering about the room.

You didn't know if he was shit-faced, high, or a mix of both. You didn't care anymore. It seemed like you had been arguing for hours, but who really knew? All perception of time was lost on you when you were around Eren.

All this started because he asked you to stay the night at his apartment. He usually preferred to go out and have some fun around town, but this was his way of making it up to you for leaving you stranded at the restaurant on your last date.

Well, it was a way for the both of you to make up with each other. Before Eren decided to steal your phone and drive away without you, the waiter serving you had left his number for you. It was only the consequence of your actions earlier that night.

You spent most of the evening flirting with him every chance you got. Batting your eyelashes at him, leaning against the table the slightest so he could get a peak of the dainty little necklace that sat pretty on your cleavage.

He wasn't even that attractive, really — you and Eren both knew that — but he still let his emotions get the best of him. If there was one thing you could trust to be consistent it was his red-hot anger.

"Don't leave when I'm talking to you!" Eren ordered, green eyes blazing hard at the back of your head. He watched you walked around the house, following you to continue your argument. "What? You're gonna go and cry like a little bitch now?"

"Why can't you leave me alone, Eren?!" you screamed, grabbing your sweater and shoving it into your bag. You turned around only to find him inches from your face. "I'm not staying here if you're gonna be a dick!"

He let out a dry chuckle as you continued gathering your things. "What a perfect fucking excuse to go fuck that jerk in your class, right?" Eren hissed, reaching to grab your arm. "Gosh, can't you ever just keep your legs closed for a night?!"

"Keep my legs closed?!" you shot back, shoving him away from you. "You're the one who's been out doing who-knows-what, Eren! You're the one who comes home with lipstick stains from whichever whore you fucked!"

"You shouldn't talk about your friends like that."

You snapped your neck to him.

His face was stony with his jaw clenched, and his hands balled up in fists. None of those things frightened you, though; it was those eyes of him. Those pretty green eyes that had once stared at you so sweetly, so lovingly long ago.

Now, all you could see were glaciers in his irises.

You swallowed down the thick lump in your throat. "You are such a fucking dick." you declared, averting your gaze from his cold one. You advanced to the door, but he caught your arm in his grip again.

"Let go of me." you ordered, attempting to pry his hand off your arm, but he wouldn't budge. "Fuck, Eren. Are you fucking stupid and deaf? I said—"

Your voice got caught in your throat when he shoved you against the wall of his bedroom. He had you caged in, one hand pinning you to the wall and the other right beside you.

It seemed like Eren learned from the last time he tried to keep you from escaping. His last efforts of getting you to stay put were always futile, and you somehow still managed to break away every time.

He always tried to grab you a second time, but you left his cheek with a bright red outline of your palm, smacking him good and hard before leaving his apartment in a fray.

None of your past escapes mattered right now, so you continued squirming around in effort to release yourself from his iron clutch. "Wow, I guess you're not as stupid as you look." you scoffed, your other hand clawing at his.

"Don't be such a bitch." Eren ordered, but you continued your attempts to leave that were only feeble against his strength.

"Why don't you go with your other girlfriends, hmm?" You scoffed, reaching for his wrist and struggling to release your arm. "Tch, Eren, you're fucking hurting me. Stop—"

He brought you towards him, pulling you into his arms. You let out a grunt of disapproval as you tried to shimmy out of his crushing hug. "Oh, my gosh, let me go! I don't want you!" you protested, pushing your hand against his hard chest to create space between you, but he thrusted you back into his chest.

"Don't be such a bitch." Eren murmured into your ear. He had one hand wrapped around your upper back, keeping you close to him, while the other held your wrist tightly to stop you from pushing him away.

His shirt still smelled like the cologne you gifted him for his last birthday. Eren was extra kind to you that day, holding your hand and giving you kisses on the cheek.

The fresh scent was familiar on your nose. You breathed it in, allowing yourself to give in to his touch. "I'm not a bitch." you told him, closing your eyes. You hoped it would help you travel back in time to that beautiful spring day.

He only grunted in response, leaning his head against the top of yours. You felt the slight brush of air down your neck when he let out a sigh. The hand that held your wrist released it, finding purchase on your waist.

A few moments of silence passed between the two of you. Eren's fingers found solace in the ends of your hair. You hadn't realized how much his words affected you until you felt your hair twirl around his fingers.

Did he really think you were a bitch? Is that why as much as you loved his cologne, you could still smell the unfamiliar scent of someone else on him?

If he cared about you, why would he leave you alone in his messy apartment all night? Why would he even bother inviting you? Why did he make an effort to speak to you so lovely that your heart fluttered?

"I just wanted to have a nice time with my girl, and you're making that so difficult. Why?" Eren questioned softly, a strand of your hair between his fingers. "Why do you go out of your way to do shit that irritates me?"

Tears prickled your eyes. "I could ask you the same thing." you replied, holding back the urge to sniffle. How could you not cry when he hurt you? You loved him with so much of yourself, and everything he did seemed like it was just to cause you harm.

"You're so mean to me, Eren. You never treat me like you should."

"I know." he said, the movement of his mouth against your head. "I don't mean to treat you like that, baby. I'm sorry. I really am." You didn't believe him, though. You didn't even want to look into his eyes because you feared you would be right.

You let out a sigh, wiping the tear that escaped the corner of your eye on his shirt. "You're bad for me, Eren." you stated, turning your head to rest against his shoulder. "You're a bad guy and a bad boyfriend. You cheat on me and call my names, and you make me cry."

Eren hummed, rubbing your back in circles. "I'll be better. I'll try harder this time." he offered, his tone almost sounding pleading on your ears. "I promise I'll do better for you."

You didn't believe it. Eren couldn't do better. He was sick with an incurable disease. He no longer felt safe in his own body. He couldn't trust his thoughts to lead him to the correct answer. It all started when he met you, and your infection spread throughout his entire system.

You had infiltrated his way of thinking and acting, his way of feeling and speaking. Eren Jaeger would never be the same person he was before he met you.

He couldn't hide his disdain when he was around his friends, not with all the remarks you made of them. Did you really think Jean was better looking than him? Was it his hair?

Maybe he should start spending more time in the library. Would that make him him look smarter in your eyes? Would you come to him for help with your homework or would you still go to Armin?

And, it was in your silence that his questions of doubt were answered. "You don't believe me." Eren stated as if he were reading the very thoughts from your mind.

A bolt of lightning shot through your spine at his tone. This was the side of your boyfriend you hadn't quite figured out yet. He could loving and playful and crack jokes all day, and mean and standoffish where he wouldn’t even look at you, but he could also be fucking sadist.

His fist curled into the roots of your hair, yanking your head back to meet his gaze. There was a sharp ache pounding on the back of your head, but you forgot all about it when you saw the slight curl of his lip.

"No one else would put up with you. You know that, don't you?" Eren asked you, green eyes appearing darker than they ever had. "You know no one would ever give you the time of day like I do."

"I know." you managed to tell him, leaning into where he gripped your hair to ease the pain you felt.

"Do you?" he questioned, raising a brow.

You tried your best to keep the hammering of your heart against your chest from showing on your face. Eren may have been a sadist, but he wasn't the only one.

"Yes, Eren." you stated, deciding to take a risk and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. You felt him tense under your touch. "You misunderstand me. I only what what's best for you and me. That's all I ever wanted."

He furrowed a brow at your words.

Sure, you would admit that Eren had power over you. He was stronger than you, taller than you, quicker than you. He was the one who had your back against a wall, and it was your hair in his fist.

But, you had something he didn't. You honed the skill he wouldn't be able to polish for years to come. He may have been overly aggressive and carried the ability to make an environment where he would always be the person with the most power, but you had experience.

And, that was something he couldn’t create.

"I've done so much for you, Eren. Why would I go through all this struggle if I didn't want to be with you?" you explained, forcing a pout on your lips. "Is that how you feel about me?"

His grip on your head began to loosen. "No," Eren forced out, eyebrows so scrunched forward they lost their sharpness. "That's not what I want. I was—"

"If you know that, then why would you stand me up?" you demanded, gazing you at him. "If you know all I want is for you to be happy, why would you start a fight with me? You know I would never hurt you like that, baby."

"I didn't mean to start a fight." Eren admitted, swallowing. "I just don't want you to leave me. I don't want to be alone. I don't know what—"

"I know. You don't have to explain it to me, baby. I know exactly what you're thinking." you told him, reaching for his hand to hold in yours. "It's okay, Eren. I know you wouldn't ever want to hurt me, right?"

He nodded, teal eyes watching as you brought his hand to your pillowy lips. You placed a feathery kiss against his knuckles. It had been so soft, so sweet that he wanted to cry.

He had just had car sex with one of the girls who lived in your dormitory's building, and you were kind enough to give him another chance. He did something that hurt you, and you still only wanted what was best for him.

"I love you." Eren sputtered out. His eyes were wide at you, and his voice sounded like he was begging you for something you refused to give him.

You let out a sweet sigh, eyes snapping to his. "You love me?" you repeated, taking a moment to savor the way the words felt on your tongue. Your brows furrowed at the words. "Do you really?"

He nodded quickly, maneuvering his hand to hold yours. He peppered kisses along your fingers, your knuckles. "I do. I really fucking do. I love you." Eren assured, kissing the inside of your hand before grabbing the side of your face.

You raised a brow as he planted soft, needy kisses along your cheeks. "How much do you love me, Eren?" you inquired, bringing your hand to massage his scalp.

Eren swallowed, looking up at you. He was quiet. You blinked back at him, waiting for his answer. You had been so surprised to find he had nothing to offer you in that moment.

You quirked a brow at his silence. "How much, Eren? How much do you love me?" you repeated, voice advancing from a curious tone to a demanding one.

He shook his head, bringing your lips to meet his gently. He tasted like . . . was it honey? Or was it just how sweet the lies he told sounded on your ears?

You weren't able to tell what his mouth tasted like, but you knew you had earned another spit sister? Had he kissed her the way he kissed you? Did he feed her the same lies he did you? Could she taste him? Was she able to put a finger on what the candied flavor on his lips was?

Eren pulled back from you slightly. You couldn’t tell if it was his turquoise eyes that were glassy or if it was yours. "Too much." he told you, lips brushing against yours. "I love you too much." He collided his face with yours, tongue slipping into your open mouth.

His kisses travelled lower — along your jaw, down your nec. He sucked hard when he found your pulse-point, only stopping once a soft moan escaped your swollen lips.

There really wasn't a way you would ever leave him, even if you tried to. Despite all the fights, all the times you professed your hate for him, all the times you tried tried to break it off, Eren stayed with you.

But, it was the same for him. Even if you hurt him, flirt with his friends right in front of him, cuss him out and manipulate him the way you had already done a profuse amount of times in the past, Eren would always love you. How could he not?

Maybe it was because both of you were equally fucked in the head, or because you both loved the concept of pain whether you be playing the role of the inflicted or inflicter, but in some twisted way, you never wanted to leave him.

Somewhere in the messed up relationship that you two had, you realized you loved him. God, you fucking loved him, even if he treated you like a pet.

And, he was your favorite toy. Yours to use and to lie and to fuck. Whether Eren Jaeger was so free he couldn't help but trample over you, or you were too much, too curious that you pushed him to the very brink and a little more, one thing wouldn't change.

You knew it was wrong. Everything about you and him was wrong. Nothing could justify it, you figured that much. You didn't think you could lose yourself in the game, but you did.

And, all of it was Eren's fault.

note: welp they were toxic huh

#snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager x you #aot eren #eren jaeger angst #toxic!eren jaeger #eren yeager angst #aot x reader #aot x you #eren yeager x reader

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