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#I listened to “meet me in the woods on repeat”
benetnvsch · 4 months
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freakinhorse123 · 2 years
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annual shittie appreciation thread <3
@lyraissleepy literally the older sibling i never had lyra you are so cool and I appreciate you so much! One of the best people ever! Love chatting to you mate you’re awesome! Also don’t tell dick legs but he’s pretty cool too
@terrible-leviathan my spouse, my buddy ol pal, terri you’re amazing even though you lost your ass like a year ago <3 seriously though you always cheer me up you’re so great! If we ever meet up irl i am tackle hugging you you cannot escape also your cursed names for the guest stars on the shitstain squad discord are so cursed /pos! You’ve legitimately changed my life and were pretty much the first close internet friend i have had you’re amazing <3!
@fuckingfish1234 dude your art is so cool and you are so great and cool! I really enjoy talking to you mate! Also you have a hand in the cursed names of the shittie friends. It was either Genital fingers or Breasty hair that was your fault (affectionate) but genuinely you’re great to talk to and your arts are fucking awesome and i am so glad i know you i take that back what the fuck was that message fish (/j you’re cool)! also listening to you get into rottmnt was so cool
@sajdd sajdd you are so cool and awesome and we bully you slightly too much (even if you are old) complaining about the mcu occasionally with you is so much fun and watching you bully dick legs to hell and back is hilarious
@filmnoirdetective bones my boy you’re so cool and swag and you get what i mean when i ramble about dc and you’re a rottmnt enjoyer you’re so cool, i really love talking to you!
@daylovejoy seriously love chatting with you you’re amazing and you’re one of the nicest people i’ve met you deserve the world! Fucking love checking my phone and seeing a notification from you
Shitties i’d give all my internal organs just to sit in a room with you all for an hour and talk, it’s been a great year with you all and i’m so glad we’re friends <3
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coolemmasulivan2 · 1 month
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Clumsy Woman
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Pairing: Rúben Dias x Reader
Summary: Your boyfriend doesn't like how clumsy you are, afraid you might seriously injure yourself.
Word count: 1976
Can't pretend to understand I'll be here to hold your hand I will wait for you, I will wait for you
You had been clumsy from a young age. Falling from trees, falling off bicycles, or simply tripping over your own feet seemed to be your speciality. It was during one of these graceful performances that you met your boyfriend, Ruben. You were barreling toward a magnificent face-plant when his strong arms caught you, saving you from certain embarrassment.
"I want to paint that wall!" You announced over breakfast one morning, your eyes sparkling with determination. "A deep blue, maybe."
Ruben raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the wall. "That bookshelf has to go first." He pointed out. "It's heavy. We can do it together this weekend." He kissed your forehead and grabbed his keys. "I have to go!"
"Bye." Your attention was still on the wall and Ruben knew what you were thinking.
"Don't do it!" He called out as he reached for his bag. "Wait for me."
"But it's my day off!" You protested, already picturing the transformed wall. "I can at least start." Ruben gave you a look. "Fine." He gave you one final kiss on the lips and then left for training.
You didn't like to stay still at home. There was always a compulsion to be busy, so when boredom crept in, your eyes fell on the wall, then the bookshelf. Maybe it wasn't that difficult. With a burst of energy, you dashed out the door to buy the paint and everything you needed to paint the wall.
At home, you slip into old clothes and turn up the music. The bookshelf was packed with your books and Ruben's trophies. He'd be furious if he saw you right now, but you would prove you could handle it alone.
The bookshelf, a dark wood monster that dominated the room, had been a custom order. You started by emptying it, a task that required more muscle than expected. Then came the acrobatics. With much effort, you managed to slide a rug under one end. But as you attempted to repeat the same on the other side, disaster hit. Your hands slipped and the bookshelf came crashing down on your bare foot. A scream ripped through you as pain exploded.
"Don't do it!" Ruben's words echoed in your head. He was so going to kill you.
With a grunt of effort, you lifted the bookshelf off your foot. Pain shot through you as you collapsed to the floor, cradling your injured limb. It looked horrific, swollen and red. Trying to stand was a mistake, as a fresh wave of agony crippled you. You couldn't walk.
"Oh God, oh God!" Panic set in. Your phone was fumbled out of your pocket. You needed help, and you needed it now. Ruben wouldn't be home for hours. Calling an ambulance was the only option.
Ruben stepped into the locker room, and he heard the insistent vibration of his phone. "That thing hasn't stopped ringing." Bernardo commented, a grin spreading across his face.
Ruben's brow furrowed as he glanced at the caller ID. It was Lily, your best friend. "Hey, Lily, everything okay?"
"Hi Ruben, sorry to bother you, but I was supposed to meet Y/N at your place, and she’s not there and a neighbour mentioned seeing an ambulance at your building." His blood ran cold. "Do you know what happened?"
"I can't believe her!" His voice rose in frustration. "She wanted to paint the wall, the one with the bookshelf. I told her not to touch it!" A wave of dread washed over him.
"She probably didn't listen. Oh God." Lily knew you better than anyone. Your stubborn independence was legendary. "I've tried calling her, but no answer."
"Let me take a shower really quick and then I'll call you back."
Bernardo and Walker exchanged concerned glances. "What's going on, man? Your girl in trouble again?" Walker asked, his tone laced with disbelief.
"Looks like it!" Ruben replied, his voice rough. "She can't stay out of trouble for five minutes. Fuck." He desperately searched for the contact of his friend Eric who worked at the hospital. He answered on the fourth ring.
"Hey, mate, what's up?"
"Eric, man, sorry to bother you, I know you're working, but I need a huge favour." Ruben rushed out, his voice was laced with urgency.
"Shoot!" Eric replied, his tone professional.
"Can you check if Y/N was admitted to the hospital? I think she might have had an accident. Again." He quickly explained the situation, his voice rising with each word. Eric promised to check and call back in a few minutes.
"I'm gonna be quick in the shower." Ruben said, turning to his friends. "If Eric calls, can you answer? Please." Walker and Bernardo nodded.
He'd never showered so fast in his life. Emerging a few minutes later, Bernardo was already on the phone.
"I'll tell him, thanks, Eric," Bernardo said, hanging up.
Ruben's heart pounded in his chest. "So?"
"She's there. Broken foot, but she's okay." Bernardo reported.
"For fuck's sake."
You rolled your eyes as Ruben burst into the hospital room. His face was a mask of irritation. Lily, who'd arrived earlier, squeezed your hand in silent support before stepping back.
"Seriously, Y/n?" Ruben’s voice was dripping with disbelief. "I told you to stay put."
"I'm fine, thanks for the concern." You replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You loved him and knew he was worried, but sometimes it felt suffocating.
"A broken foot means you’re not." He disagreed. "Can’t you just stay still for one day?"
You didn’t want to argue, especially as he seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. "I’m a grown woman, Ruben. I don’t need you to tell me to sit still."
"Well, you don’t act like one. Sometimes I feel like I’m dating a child." His response was harsh and unexpected.
Shock washed over you. Had he really just said that?
"Maybe you should break up with this child then. I wouldn’t want to keep the great Ruben Dias from the real women in the city." You retorted, your voice trembling with anger.
He ran his hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. He knew his words had been cruel, but his worry often manifested in this way. But breaking up with you was the last thing he wanted.
"You know that’s not what I meant-- what are you doing?" He began, but you cut him off as you tried to stand, to reach for the crutches. He pushed you back down, but you quickly pushed his hand away.
"Lily, can you take me home, please?" You asked, ignoring Ruben completely.
Lily, who had been a silent observer, helped you up.
"I can take you home!" Ruben offered.
"I don’t want you to take me home." You replied coldly. "You don’t have a car seat for a child, remember?"
Using crutches was something familiar. This wasn’t your first rodeo. You had broken other body parts before.
In the car, Lily broke the tense silence. "You know he’s just worried about you."
"I know, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat me like a child. "He has known since the beginning how clumsy I am. If he can’t handle it, maybe we shouldn't be together."
"Don’t say that!" Lily replied, her voice firm. "You two can't live without the other." Through the rearview mirror, you saw Ruben’s car following you. "I know it’s hard, but try to understand his point of view."
You looked away, trying to focus on anything but the conversation. You knew Lily was right. Ruben loved you, and his overprotectiveness came from that love. But it was hard to accept when it felt like he was suffocating you.
As the car pulled up to your apartment building, you felt a pang of sadness hit you. Lily opened your door, and carefully you stepped out. "Thanks for everything, Lily. I really appreciate it."
She smiled. "Anytime, Babe! Call me if you need anything, okay?"
You nodded and the the help of the clutches you walked towards the building entrance. As you turned around, you saw Ruben's car waiting for the garage door of the building to open up. You hesitated, looking at his car for a long moment before turning and going inside.
When you entered the house, you realised that your books were scattered like confetti, Ruben's trophies were still on the dining table, and the monstrous bookshelf stood there, a mocking presence in the room. It was impossible to clean it up. Not with your foot like that.
A few minutes later, Ruben entered the house and he looked around it. You were nowhere to be seen, but by the sound of the water running, he knew you were taking a shower. Without his help.
What if you fell? He shocked the thought out of his head. You needed space and he was going to give it to you. Kind of.
Jumping from the shower with only one foot and the other in the air, you dried yourself and put on your pyjamas. You felt like everything was hurting, but you had to prove a point to Ruben. You could do things alone without needing his help.
As you opened the bedroom door, the smell of the food hit you and your belly made a noise, not realising how starving you were. However what surprised you the most was not Ruben cooking but the fact the bookshelf was no longer on the wall that you wanted to paint, but the wall in front of it, with all his trophies and your books. Everything was really clean and the small lamp you had on the corner where you sat reading was welcoming.
The table was set, and Ruben was busy tossing salad at the kitchen island. When he saw you emerge from the bedroom, he paused, his expression softening.
"How are you feeling?" His voice was gentle, laced with concern.
You met his gaze with a cold stare. "Fine."
You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, walking around the kitchen with surprising ease on your crutches. Ruben watched your movements with a mixture of relief and worry.
He sighed, setting down the salad bowl. "Can we talk?"
You scoffed. "Are you sure you want to do that? You think talking to a child is easy?" Your voice was sharp, but a pang of hurt shot through you as the words left your lips.
Ruben rinsed his hands and pulled out two chairs. Gently, he guided you to one and sat down across from you. His hands rested lightly on your bare legs. "I'm so sorry for calling you a child. I didn't mean it like that, and you know it."
You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "It still hurt." You mumbled.
"I know, I know. I've been overprotective." He admitted. "But every time you get hurt, it feels like my heart stops. I worry about you constantly. But calling you a child was wrong, and I'm truly sorry."
Your anger was slowly dissipating. You couldn't stay mad at him for long. He always knew how to break through your walls. "You're an idiot if you think this is the last time I'll hurt myself." You retorted, trying to sound tough.
He chuckled softly. "Let me be an idiot, then. I love you, you know that, right?"
Ruben's eyes held yours. Slowly, he leaned forward, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. Your heart pounded in your chest as his gaze lowered to your lips.
With a hesitant touch, his lips met yours. It was a soft and passionate kiss. As the kiss deepened, you felt a surge of relief and happiness wash over you. In that moment, nothing else mattered.
A small smile crept onto your face. "I know. I love you too."
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xxnghtclls · 8 months
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Harder
Explicit True Form Sukuna x Reader (Permission Universe 🥰)
Summary: During a cold winter night out in the forest, you ask Sukuna to warm you up.
This takes place a night before the final chapter of Permission. However, I think it's possible to read it without having read Permission, since it doesn't include much mention of the plot, but! - beware - it does mention the ending. However, I do think it makes more sense if you've read Permission tho.
Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy <3
Word count: 4,8k
Tags below the cut.
Tags:
Lot‘s of fucking, Sukuna is a Little Shit, Four-Armed Sukuna, Established Relationship, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Double Penetration, Sukuna Has Two Penises, Porn with Feelings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Finger Sucking, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Positions, Outdoor Sex, Choking, Gentle Sex, Rough Sex, Monsterfucking
—————
„I think you should say it more often.“
„Say what?“
„Queen.“
Sukuna sneers at you, before he keeps chewing on that piece of meat he just ripped off a bone.
„You rarely do. Can‘t even remember the last time you did.“ you continue, while poking with a stick into the fire, adjusting the wood, while your back faces your King.
No response.
Asshole.
The night is cold, as you’re sitting in front of your campfire. A freezing breeze flows through the branches of the forest trees around you, as the moonlight shines down upon you.
„I just think you could say it once in a while, after I endured that nightmare ritual of yours.“ you say playfully, cocking your head to the side, while staring into the flames, poking.
“I know you’re proud of it.” he chuckles darkly, before he spits a little piece of bone out of his mouth.
A pause.
„I am…” you say in thought and after a moment, you turn back to him. “That’s why I want to hear it from your lips. It makes me know, that you’re proud of it too. Having me and being mine.” you continue in a soft voice.
He stops chewing, as he listens to your words, looking at you.
And he squeezes at your heart… before he leans over to you and flicks his finger against your forehead.
“Enough now, Princess.” he says gently.
“There it is!” your complain loudly, pointing at him with your finger.
He shrugs and grins playfully, before he slides down to the ground, off the log he’s been sitting on and leans his back against it. You can’t help to think that he looks cozy with that black cloak around his shoulders and his wide, white pants. The way the cloak gently lays upon his naked skin and muscles lets you feel a heartbeat in your cunt.
But-
You turn back to the fire and keep poking. It’s all fun and games, but in the end, you mean what you said.
I want him to be proud, too.
You feel his eyes boring into your back and feel his grin growing.
Motherfucker.
“My Lady shouldn’t care much about what I’m calling her, when she knows what she is.”
You cock your eyebrow, before you slowly turn to look over your shoulder to him.
“My Lady?” you repeat in question.
His eyebrow twitches and his smile turns into a proud one.
So pretty.
“I will grant you this one.” you say hesitantly. “Does it flow better over your lips?”
“It does.” his voice a whisper, as his eyes twitch slightly.
A pause.
And you both look at each other, drown into each others eyes, almost as if you could undress each other with them, with the sound of the fire crackling in the background.
“Does it flow to your lips when I say it like that?” his eyes jump down between your legs, before he speaks with a deep, seductive voice. “My Lady?”
And it does flow to your lips, make them feel your heartbeat and salivate.
Make them hungry.
You blink, before you let go of that stick, before you stand up and walk to where Sukuna’s feet are resting. Arousal between your legs and in his eyes, as you slowly untie your obi.
“It’s cold out here.” you say sternly, as you undress your Kimono, until his crimson eyes meet your naked chest, tits and cunt. “Warm me up!”
The fabric falls onto the ground, as his eyes wander over your body. His stare causes the tingling feeling between your legs to increase further and further, wonder if he already can see some smear on your inner thighs. Slowly his lips turn into a pout, before his eyes shoot back up to meet yours.
And he doesn’t say anything, as you start to shiver, as the hairs on your skin start to stand up.
It‘s december after all.
Sukuna‘s expression turns neutral again, dark eyes just watch you standing right there at his feet. He‘s just watching you wait for his command.
Or does he?
“I’m cold, my King.” you whisper, earning a cock of his eyebrow.
But no answer.
Hm.
You take a step forward, the tense situation makes you feel your folds with every step already, before you’re standing inbetween his legs. Slowly your right foot, crawls over his bulge, massaging his dicks through the fabric of his pants. Your breath hitches at the feeling, as you can feel him pulsate and twitch beneath the clothes. His bottom pair of eyes follow your motions, while his upper pair stays fixated on you.
So hot.
“Cold.” you breathe and your limbs start trembling.
Sukuna shifts a little, presses his bulge more against the friction of your foot, while he watches how your nipples harden more each second.
“C’mere.” he finally whispers in a welcoming, warm tone, while he taps with his fingers on his lap.
Tap. Tap.
You take another step and let yourself fall harshly onto his lap. Hungrily you grab his hair and shove his face against yours. Sukuna kisses you back, with need, as his upper pair of arms wrap around you and grab your hair as well, pushing you even closer against him. You can feel his dicks throbbing against your cunt.
And soon you can feel the arousal not only in your folds, but also in your abdomen.
It almost drives you insane.
“So cold, my Love.” you breathe at his lips without air. “I need you so badly.”
You grab his cloak, feel the fabric between your fingers, how warm it is from the skin of your King, before suddenly Sukuna elevates his hips to free himself from his pants with his bottom pair of arms.
His dicks slap against your ass, causing you to whimper against his lips. Hands find your ass, spread your cheeks and slap your left one harshly.
Loudly.
Slap!
He groans into your mouth and you moan back, out of pain and pleasure and impatience.
Impatience.
You grab between your legs, reach for his upper dick and hungrily move it through your slick.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Between your lips.
God.
You hiss against his lips and close your eyes, the feeling of his skin against your wet core so intense already, almost feeling like you’re dripping down onto his meat, while your breath is trembling from arousal.
And so is his. Sukuna’s upper pair of hands wander from your hair and neck down to your tits, before they pinch and move your hard nipples between his fingers. His left hand slaps your rear a second time, before he reaches down for his bottom dick and places it at your leaky hole. You open up your eyes again and look into his crimson ones, before you lean back and press his upper dick against his bottom one. His chest keeps rising and falling, quick enough for you to notice, before you lower yourself and push both of his dicks against your entrance.
“Agh.” he hisses, while you curse under your breath. Slowly, you push him into you, so sweet and thick, thinking you could cum from this feeling alone.
“Fuckkk.” your quiet voice is jittering, but you take your time. The feeling is too good, too intense to rush it.
You might cum in an instant.
Sliding his cocks fully into you, your clit hits his pelvis.
So good.
Your heart is racing, as Sukuna’s right upper hand, crawls up your chest, your throat, to your mouth. His hooded eyes look at you and he nudges his head at you, giving you the silent command to open your mouth.
And you do.
Your tongue swirls around his index and middle finger, tasting him, feeling his skin, before you close your mouth around them.
And you suck.
Sukuna’s lip twitches at the feeling and you feel him tensing up beneath you. He must be so close to start pounding into you relentlessly. You close your eyes, dive into the taste of his fingers, enjoy the feeling of them pressing into your mouth, while you start moving up and down so gently and slowly. It‘s so intense. You feel everything. Every tiny little motion. It has your breath jittering.
A squeeze on your heart makes you open your eyes again, to meet his blown pupils, so aroused and in love with that sight of you sitting on his dicks.
Sukuna pulls his fingers out of your mouth, before he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, exposing your teeth. Your breath turns more vocal with every motion, the hot air coming out of your mouth hitting Sukuna’s fingers, before he starts gently rocking his hips in synch with your motions.
So deep.
You start moaning against his hand, feeling so good for him.
“Coating my cocks so well.” he whispers like in trance, while his hand wanders to your throat, squeezing gently. Heat rises to your face, before eyes fall down to his torso, watch how his muscles tense and flatten with each gentle thrust.
“In the essence of your cunt.” he continues inbetween your moans, his voice raspy. “So slick and wet.”
He pulls you closer at your throat, before his bottom pair of hands dig into your ass.
“So sweet and tasty.” he whispers into your ear. “My Lady.”
The heat his words are causing in your abdomen and face is cooking your skin. Each gentle thrust and each motion of your hips feels divine, connected and synchronised, pressing into your sweet spot harder and harder, while you listen to the slick noises that your skins are causing. You’re moaning so loudly now, as you can’t suppress the pleasure he’s causing in your body.
And you‘re so close. Already.
“I’m about to cum.” you whine and his fingers around your throat tighten.
“Not yet.” his nose brushes against the shell of your ear.
Fuck.
“I can’t-“
“Not yet.”
His voice.
So arrogant.
You’re concentrating so hard, but you’re so close, so so close, start to clench and choke his dicks, about to snap, when suddenly he pulls at your throat, pulls you off his meat. Your face meets the cloak on his shoulder and your body starts shaking from the pleasure, as you’re fighting your body and mind to not cum just like that, without having him in you.
“Keh Keh Keh.” he giggles so deviously into your ear, while you’re trying to stay on this earth, as you hold on to him, dig your nails into him, as you groan and moan into his neck and skin.
“Shhh.” he hushes between giggles.
“Shut up.” you whine, before you bite into the fabric, that’s covering his shoulder, making him groan in amusement.
“Tch tch tch.” he clicks his tongue. “That’s not how a Lady speaks to her King.”
He let’s go of your throat and while your body slowly recovers from your denied orgasm, you raise your head to look at him. Sukuna’s badly acted, disappointed pout makes you want to shove his face in between your thighs, to finish what his cocks started.
“No?” you breathe, raising your eyebrow at him. He cocks his eyebrow back at you, your right hand slowly crawls to his throat, up to his chin, before your middle and ring finger push onto his lips.
And he opens his mouth, gives the underside of your fingers a dedicated lick, before he closes his lips around them. His eyes grow soft, as he starts sucking, watching every reaction that paints onto your face.
And you do the same. Can’t help to think how beautiful he looks, how his brow furrows at your taste, how his breath hits your hand with every second. Sukuna’s hands on your ass gently knead your flesh, while his other pair of hands brush over the skin of your sides.
“You’re so beautiful…” you whisper, making him sigh against your fingers. “My King.”
He purrs against your fingers, as his eyes look at you, so needy, so aroused, as you retract your fingers out of his mouth, a string of saliva connecting your fingertips to his tongue.
“Now warm me up again.” you continue, making his lip twitch and curl into a smirk.
His left hand leaves your side, reaching inbetween your legs and propping his dicks back up against your entrance. The hands on your ass spread your cheeks, as he lowers you, as he slides himself back into your insides.
And he goes slowly. The pleasure starts rising again with every inch you slide onto him and you let your forehead bump against his, as you’re breathing heavily against his face. Sukuna’s breath quickens as well, his mouth opening in pleasure, before he gives your bottom lip a single lick. You moan loudly, want to press your thighs together, as the slick feeling of his lengths intensifies. Then he starts rocking his hips. So good and slow, picking up your pleasure from before, making you feel like a puddle immediately.
In and out.
In and out.
“I wanna cum.” you breathe into his face.
In and out.
In and out.
He groans into your mouth.
In and out.
In and out.
Fuck.
“Gonna cum.” you whine breathlessly, as your fingers dig into the back of his neck and hair
You clench and clench and clench, so wet and soaking-
And you snap.
Sukuna starts rocking his hips more and more to make you ride on your orgasm, as you keep moaning your high into Sukuna’s face, almost drooling onto his chin and chest. He moans in synch with you, obviously enjoying your high as much as you.
And then he slows down again, as you’re panting and trying to regain your consciousness. His dicks are pulsating in your cunt. He must be so starved.
But he’s patient.
After a moment, after catching your breath, you press a loving kiss onto his lips, before you lean to his right ear, your face brushing against his mask in the process.
“I told you to warm me up.” you whisper, like this was just the first bite of a three course menu. “That’s not how you treat your Lady.”
A deep chuckle escapes his chest, before you feel him shift beneath you. Positioning his feet on the ground, you know he’s ready to truly warm you up.
Ready to fuck.
And he starts a steady rhythm, unexpected light for his usual manners.
He wants to play.
Slap…Slap…Slap…Slap.
Your fucked out clit doesn’t feel much from this type of motions, but for now, you enjoy him as he is. Feeling him sliding in and out, feeling his hands on your ass and on your sides, as you start to place chaste kisses on his neck.
He groans and squeezes at your heart, while you keep kissing. Then licking and biting and back to kissing. Sukuna tilts his head to give you better access to his neck. You keep going, showering his neck in kisses and marks, while your right hand moves across his cheek, caressing it.
I love you.
Slap…Slap…Slap…Slap.
A final kiss on his neck and collarbone, before your lips reach for his earlobe. You’re still being rocked back and forth from his pace, but-
I need more.
You gently bite and tug on the jewellery of his lobe, making him hiss and chuckle.
“I’m still cold.” you whisper.
“Oh yeah?” his arrogant tone chimes in your ear.
“Mhmh.” you hum.
Slap!
A harsh thrust, making you moan out loud.
“Harder.” you breathe.
A purr vibrates against your chest, before he-
Slap! Slap!
-thrusts harshly a second and third time, before he slows down again.
Those felt so good.
“Harder, my King.” you repeat your plea, whining, before you feel his hands spread your asscheeks once again. Suddenly a warm, wet tongue probes at your unattended asshole, licking and pushing into it. The sensation makes you moan softly into his ear, before he picks up his pace again.
A bit faster now.
Slap..Slap..Slap..Slap..
“Harder.” you moan.
Slap!
Another single harsh thrust.
“Agh!”
So intense now with his tongue in your asshole.
“Like this?” he whispers so deeply.
Slap..Slap..Slap..Slap..
You start to dive into this feeling again, start to huff and sigh and moan into his ear. Nails dig into the fabric of his cloak and tug, as you bury your face back into his shoulder.
And you shake your head.
Suddenly he lifts your ass up and his dicks leave your cunt, before his other hand reaches back between your legs. Sukuna lines his upper dick back up against your soaked hole and pushes the tip in, before he takes his bottom dick and presses it against your asshole.
And it slides in, so easy, so slick and easy, that your nails dig into his shoulders.
“Or like this?” he growls.
Slap!
You cry out against his shoulder, drool upon his cloak, before you nod your head.
“Yes! Harder!” you whine, earning another hum and purr from his chest.
“My needy little slut.” he chuckles, before his pace grows rapidly.
Slap.Slap.Slap.Slap.
“You like this?” he coos between your moans, as he wraps his upper pair of arms around your back, pressing you closer onto his torso.
“Harder!” you whine, unable to function now, before he slides down more onto the ground, changing the angle of his thrusts.
“Fuck!” he growls, before slamming himself into you even harder.
Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!
You cry out into his neck, almost hear your noises echoing back from the forest around you. Using the full strength of his thighs and feet now, forcing his dicks to reach so deep and violently into you.
And oh you love it.
Love how he loves using you like that.
Love how he’s fucking you like that.
God.
He’s holding you so tight, making you unable to move, just able to feel his sweet violence on you. The slaps of your skin and the cries of your throat echo through the whole forest. Sukuna tunes in, as his heavy breathing turns into grunts and moans as well.
Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!
The pleasure in your abdomen rises again, as he keeps smashing himself into your insides. His pace is merciless, as well as his stamina.
And you know he could do this for hours.
Grabbing your asscheeks tight, he slams your pelvis down onto him to meet his hips from below. His abs are rubbing against your own stomach, becomes slick, as you both start to sweat from the motions and the fire right next to you.
Slap!Slap!-
And suddenly he stops. The sudden halt of movement lets the blood tingle in your veins, lets the sensation in your walls become so intense. He’s panting, before he suddenly moves. Without leaving your holes, he leans forward, almost slams you onto the ground right next to the fire and puts his weight on top of you. A loud sigh escapes his mouth, before he leans down and kisses you hungrily, before he slowly starts to thrust again. Sukuna grabs your jaw and makes you look at him, into his flickering crimson eyes, the illumination from the fire dancing in his orbs.
His nails dig into your cheeks, while he hooks his bottom pair of arms below your knees, folding you in half, make your back dig itself into the cold ground.
“My sweet slut.” he coos breathlessly, before-
Slap!
You cry out in pleasure, as he picks up the harsh pace from before, his dicks reaching so deep into you, knocking at your brain and skull.
“I’m still cold.” you whine, with tears in your eyes, as you wrap your hands around his jaw.
“I know.” he grunts, as he keeps going and going, as the heat from his body keeps radiating onto your whole skin except your back.
Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!
Sukuna keeps fucking and fucking, the force and his weight causing your knees to finally meet the ground right next to your sides, as his upper pair of arms steady him next to your head. His constant pounding cause more and more tears to form in the corners of your eyes, as you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder.
You feel his dicks swell up and you know he’s close, as he keeps moaning into your ear.
“You gonna cum?” you whine in between moans.
“Gonna fill you up.” he grunts. “Gonna fill you up nice and warm from the inside, just like you want me to.”
And they swell impossibly thicker, make you clench so hard around them. You’re so close, too, don’t want this to be over.
But you can’t hold it. After two more thrusts and you’re snapping again, melting into a shaking puddle beneath his figure, as you bite and scream into his shoulder.
And he slips out again, doesn’t let you ride it out this time.
Doesn‘t want to cum yet.
“Fuckkkk.” you curse him, as you’re left unable to move, his grip on your knees so tight and his weight on you so heavy.
“Gonna make you warm you up real good now.” he coos. “Hot like fire.” he growls, as he picks you up again and leans back again. Lying on his back, he cradles you in his arms on top of him, your legs dangling over his bottom right arm, his other arm supporting the back of your head.
“Like molten metal.” he keeps talking in a thick voice, before spitting into his upper right hand and reaching for your asshole. Coating it with more of his spit and giving it a wet lick with a tongue on his palm, before he reaches for his dicks again, inserting them leaky tips back into your holes, before he reaches with the very same hand for your jaw, grabbing it tightly, making you stare into his eyes.
“So hot and warm, just how my little Queen wants to be.”
There it is.
His words and the way he’s holding you, make you want to bawl your eyes out, but you behave yourself, just let your eyes scream your love for him into his face.
Sukuna puts up his right food, supporting himself, ready to thrust again. You feel the warmth of the fire on your back, as he starts slowly.
It’s too much.
Almost.
His eyes grow soft, his mouth falls open and his brow furrows in pleasure, as he keeps staring at your fucked out face, pulling you so close.
So intimate.
Despite being outside you can smell the sex and filth that the both of you imprinted into this place.
“Fucking me so good.” you slur, while your mind is elsewhere, just feeling him and his being, while your cheek is pressing against his chest.
His lip twitches, before he smirks proudly.
Slap!
The way he’s holding you, the way your thighs are pressed together, cause you to feel more friction against your clit and holes.
“Make me melt.” you beg into his eyes. “Let our souls merge.”
He chuckles.
“Poetic.” he flares his red eyes at you, before he picks up his pace.
Harder.
Harder.
Harder!
Suddenly his upper left hand grabs your hair from behind and yanks your head into your neck.
Harshly.
You gasp in pain, as your eyes stare into the flames behind you.
So close.
So hot.
Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!
“Gonna make you melt and melt myself into you.” he growls.
His thrusts ignite a spark through your whole being, accompanied with his words, they carry your mind back to the present, make you realise he’s holding your face so close to the fire. It feels so hot against your skin.
Sukuna’s grip on your hair is so tight, that his nails are digging into your skull.
And you love it.
Love his sweet harshness he‘s using on you.
Slowly the pleasure starts rising again, your cunt still so wet and soaking from all the penetration and orgasms he put you through. Sukuna’s deep moans echo in your ear, before his teeth find your exposed neck and he starts nibbling, biting and licking your sensitive skin.
It hurts.
And you love it.
Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!
You cry out, as he suddenly bites into your shoulder, while his arm below your knees pull you tighter against him, as his pace grows impossibly harder, faster. So animalistic and brutal, as his dicks keep slamming against your mind again, making you unable to breathe and think.
And he fucks and fucks and fucks your poor and enjoying holes, marks your skin as his with his teeth, as the heat rises to your face again.
“Yours.” a muffled growl against your shoulder.
Oh god.
It makes the heat from within and the fire mix on your cheeks and ears. His voice causes your body to tense up and suddenly something in you snaps.
Your eyes roll back and you gasp, your vision grows foggy, but sharp. Your senses numb, but heighten, as your heart rate exhilarates. Yanking your head out of his hold, you look back into Sukuna’s face again.
“There you are.” he hisses, so aroused.
Slap!
You slap him across the face, before your hand finds his throat, pressing tight.
“Mine!” you hiss between moans, the pitch of your voice being shaken from the velocity he‘s using on you.
Sukuna’s grin grows wide, as he raises his chin, exposing his throat even more, groaning in pleasure, letting you choke him as hard as you can, enjoying the pressure, not stopping his violent thrusts. Your face paints itself in pleasure, your mouth falls open, as your other hand reaches for his face, pushing your thumb against his bottom lip.
Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!
With a loud moan, he opens his mouth and you hook your thumb against his bottom teeth, forcing him to keep his mouth opened for you.
His hold on you tightens even more, almost feels like he’s going to crush your little figure in his arms, as his dicks start swelling thicker and thicker. You notice that he clenches his jaw, before he blinks and his eyes roll back, before he tilts his lust ridden face back to you. White orbs stare into each others soul, as his expression turns aggressive and you choke him harder. His lips twitch and his dicks throb so violently in your insides.
Oh how he loves it.
And you do, too.
This aggressive, sinful sight makes you step so close to the edge of nirvana.
Again.
And he would treat you like this.
Again and again.
Because you’re his and he is yours.
For now and all eternity.
Your skin is burning from the fire and from the heat between your bodies, feeling as hot as ever, feeling so in love with him, feeling so surrender to him.
Because he is your King.
Your God and Lover.
For now and all eternity.
Your moans grow into screams, as he keeps slamming himself into you and your sweet spot, so used, so so used already, but he feels so good, so so good, that you can’t help it.
And your holes snap around his dicks, making you cum a third time, so intense, so hot and soft like molten metal. Walls grip onto his lengths oh so tightly, trying to milk him and his essence into your womb. Crying your moans into the hot air around you, while his mouth closes around your thumb, sucking and biting down onto your bone, feeling your pulsating walls around his lengths, as slowly his growls become so loud, as he starts tensing up more and more beneath you. You pull your thumb out of his mouth, smearing his spit onto his cheek, as the end is near.
Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap! Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!
And his brow furrows and his heart pulls at yours, before he comes undone, grunting and growling so deep and loud into your face, pumping you full of his seed and cum, so warm and thick.
Slap!
Slap!
Slap!
And then he slows down. His breath jittering from the exhaustion. The smell of sweat and sex in your nose, as his slow and final thrusts push his essence into you.
So sweet, so deep.
I love you.
Ragged breaths fill the air around you, as both of your minds find back to reality. Your vision and sensation grows back to normal, as you still lay in his arms looking at him. His fingertips brush against your thighs and shoulder, as you watch him and how his red orbs blink back into his eyes, so tired, while he looks up into the sky.
And you look up, too, smiling, feeling warm.
Here with him.
And you both watch the moon and how it watches you.
You and your Love.
Together.
————
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@rosemaydone321
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chelseasdagger · 1 year
Text
Teacher
Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader
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Summary: Frank's a part of your friend group and invites you to hang out one day, unaware of your massive crush on him. During the visit, you let it slip that you're very inexperienced, and he offers to teach you everything you've missed out on.
Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of sex, drinking, and smoking
Author's Note: Oh my god! It's finally here, my first fic series! I've had this idea for months now and I've finally got the courage to write it out and post it. I wanna say a huge thank you to @chellestrash and @suitsofwo3 for their continuous support on this series! Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!
Word Count: 5k
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​​To say you had feelings for Frank Castle would be a gross understatement. It was truly nothing short of a schoolgirl crush, an all consuming infatuation that made you want him even more. Being anywhere near him made you feel like you were back in grade school with an uncontrollable flutter of butterflies in your stomach, and you knew you had to at least try and attempt to cease their movements.
But knowing and acting are two very different things, and you weren’t even sure if you wanted to stop them. Not when every smile he flashes your way makes them beat their tiny wings so fast that you feel weak in the knees. You knew logically it couldn’t end well, not with him being in your friend group, but you had a feeling you could keep up the friendly facade and not let it slip that your feelings for him are much more intense. 
After all, he’s confident, handsome, and much older than you. How hard could it be?
“How hard could it be,” you repeat, whispering to yourself in the car. Your eyes are trained on the road in front of you as you listen while your GPS navigates you through the city. Frank had invited you over to his place after the last get-together the group had, where you admitted to the fact that you hadn’t seen his, apparently, favorite movie from the ‘80s. It was almost too perfect of a setup and you curse the universe for planning it all. Of all the movies you haven’t seen, you had to confess to this one?
In your defense, it was nearly impossible to decline his offer when his charm flared up like it had that night. Boisterous laughter, crinkles by his eyes when he grinned, and a, “Come on, you’ve gotta see it!” that was so warm and welcoming it had you agreeing before you thought about the implications of that damn nod you gave him.
Thinking back on that night, you nearly miss your turn onto the road that leads to his apartment. You catch it just in time though and as the automated voice informs you that he lives on the left, the anxiety sets in. You begin to focus on your breathing and you find an open parking spot right next to his black van, exactly where he said there would be. Mentally thanking him for eliminating some of the pressure of finding where to park, you pull into the spot and look towards the door with the metal numbers of his address bolted on the plaque beside it.
Once the car is parked and the ignition is off, you close your eyes and inhale enough air until your chest puffs out. “It’s just Frank,” you reassure yourself, attempting to slow down your heart rate. It does little use as his face flashes in your mind when you speak his name, so you decide not to delay the meeting any longer.
With a dry mouth and fidgeting hands you make your way to his apartment, giving yourself one last full breath before raising your hand to knock on his door. Your knuckles sound out against the wood, and there’s only a second of silence before you hear a muffled, “Coming!”
The brief moment to plaster a relaxed smile on your face passes all too quickly and you’re suddenly met with Frank’s warm grin. Failing to ignore the way he’s leaning against the doorframe, you can’t help your eyes immediately glancing at his bicep as it stretches the fabric of his sleeve. You quickly force your gaze back to his face and give yourself a mental shake.
“Hey, kid, glad you could make it,” he greets you kindly. You’d be lying if you said the nickname he reserved for you wasn’t bittersweet. It made you feel special that it only left his lips in reference to you, but logically you knew it was because you were the youngest in the group. The truly bitter part was hearing it and feeling your heart sink that little bit lower; you wondered if he ever saw you as more, if you’d ever be able to satisfy your steadfast crush.
But those spiral sessions are best had at home, so you push away the thoughts and focus on spending time with him. All you’ve ever wanted was time alone with him and you’re not sure when you’ll get the chance again after today.
“Yeah, of course,” your genuine smile takes over, ”I had to see what all the fuss was about.” He chuckles at your joke before stepping aside, gesturing for you to come in. Squeezing past his body, you step into the living room of his home. It’s bigger than you expected, housing a sectional couch and wooden coffee table in the center. There’s also a large television mounted to the wall that’s clearly the main focus of the room. One sweatshirt and a lone blanket are draped on the back of the couch, making up the only clutter in the space. You don’t realize Frank is watching you take it all in until he gently clears his throat.
“Is it as glorious as you expected?” His voice sounds out from behind you and you turn to face him. There’s a smirk on his face and you find yourself chuckling to avoid shrinking into yourself.
“Just… different than I pictured is all,” you gesture vaguely to the open space of the room. There’s a scoff before he walks past you and towards the light grey couch.
“‘Clean’, you mean?” There’s a huff surrounding the question as he plops down onto the couch.
“Well…” you trail off, tilting your head to the side. A smile slowly takes over his face as you tease him.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he says as he pats the cushion of the couch. You follow his instruction, opting to keep one seat between the two of you. There’s a pause for a moment and you let your eyes wander to his thighs. His legs are slightly spread on the couch and it’s hard to ignore the way the fabric of his denim jeans are struggling to make room for the muscles of his thighs.
“So you really haven’t seen the greatest film of all time?” He begins again, disbelief clear in his tone. His voice makes your line of sight shoot back up to his face and it’s now your turn to wear a smile.
“You sure are creating a lot of hype for this movie. I hope it doesn’t disappoint,” you laugh softly. His eyes grow wide as a look of shock takes over his face.
“‘Disappoint’? You kiddin’ me? I’m pretty sure this movie paved the way for cinema.” He gets up excitedly, walking towards one of the thin bookshelves that frame the television. His fingers scan the titles quickly, trailing down the rows until he finds one. He pulls the case out from where it was sandwiched between the others before turning around to show it off with a wave of his hand.
“Made sure to rewind it for you yesterday.” You try to ignore the way your brain jumps to conclusions at those few words. The thoughts are loud, however, and you hear them despite your wishes. He really thought this ahead? Was he actually looking forward to seeing you?
Frank pulls the tape from out of its case and kneels down in front of the television. There’s a large, grey VCR lying on the ground and he gently pushes the tape past the small hinge, a tiny whirring sound escaping as it accepts the tape.
“God, I’m really showing my age here, aren’t I?” He nods towards the old technology on the wooden floor.
“I mean, I’ve seen my parents use them before,” you answer honestly.
“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles, bringing his palm to cover his face before dragging it down his cheeks. The giggle that escapes you is involuntary, he looks so cute each time you tease him. You love these moments and how effortless it is to joke around with him, unlike when your usually constant bashfulness is present. 
Once the tape is in, the static on the screen crackles to life and there’s a few seconds before the black fades into a dusty orange sky. As the opening scene begins to play, you feel like you recognize the actors’ names as they appear over the footage. Nothing immediately comes to mind though, so you ignore the nagging feeling of trying to place them and focus on the film.
That proves to be more difficult than you intended. Admittedly, all you can think about is his scent lingering in the space around you. It’s almost as if the couch is bathed in his smell and it feels as though you’re drowning in it in the best way. You halfway register the dialogue sounding out and decide to at least entertain the idea of paying attention. There’s a shot of the inside of an airport, and you watch as the word Diehard comes across the center of the screen. Chuckles erupt from you and Frank’s immediately turning to face you with a confused pout.
“You think Diehard is the greatest movie of all time?” Your words are unintentionally soaked in disbelief and you swear you can see his defensive guard come up.
“You tryna’ tell me it’s not?! Cause it’s clearly up there!”
“I don’t know, Frank,” you start. Each time the film is brought up around you, you hear that it’s either the best or it’s overrated. You just didn’t expect him to be this much of a fan.
“That’s right! You don’t know!” He seems proud of his argument and even laughs towards the end of his sentence. You shake your head as your smile begins to hurt your cheeks due to how long you’ve been wearing it for. He reaches for the old remote, its buttons faded with its age, and the screen halts to a stop as he presses pause.
“I’ll be right back,” Frank explains with a grunt as he pushes himself off of the couch. You turn and watch him walk to the kitchen, your eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and how they almost brush the open doorframe as he passes through it. Not wanting to let your thoughts continue any more down the path they’re already on, you force your attention back to the television and wait for him to return.
“Here you are,” his deep voice sounds out a moment later and you look up at him. He’s sitting down onto the couch cushion with the fingers of his right hand wrapped around the necks of two beer bottles. He stretches his arm towards you, offering one of the drinks and you’re distracted by the veins running up the inside of his forearm.
“What? S’there somethin’ wrong?” he asks confusedly, his own gaze glancing between your clasped hands and the bottles. You snap out of your trance and stare at the beers again, racking your brain for any excuse to use to decline the drink.
“No, thank you, I’m all good,” your voice comes out stiff. Real smooth, you curse yourself as you see Frank’s expression change. His eyebrows pull together as he tries to understand your sudden and strange behavior.
“So what’s your deal, huh?” he begins, setting the bottles down and leaning back into the couch. His entire body is turned towards you and it’s clear that you’re the new subject of the conversation. You swallow thickly, your nerves already acting up.
“Never seen you drink, never seen you smoke… Hell, I haven’t seen you do much of anything,” he continues, listing his examples off on each finger. “Why is that? You some goody two shoes or something?” he finishes with a raspy chuckle. He reaches for his beer, popping the lid off with the opener from the coffee table and taking a long sip as his eyes meet yours over the glass in his hand.
You wish you could come up with something, anything, to get you out of this situation before you’re forced to confess to him. You open your mouth, expecting your tongue to string the words together for you, but there’s nothing but silence in the room. Quickly, you begin grasping for an explanation, only to be left stuttering over your words. Frank’s eyebrows raise and there’s an amused smirk tugging at his lips as he puts his drink down again.
“Uh oh,” he laughs quietly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He squints at you, tilting his head to the side as his eyes flicker all around your face. “There’s somethin’ else there,” he whispers mostly to himself, “gotta tell me now, sweetheart.”
If none of this was enough to make your face grow warm, it certainly is now that you’ve heard the pet name leave his mouth. You feel as if you’re curling inward on yourself and you hate that the ground won’t show you mercy by opening up and swallowing you whole. Fidgeting with your fingers, you wonder if there’s any lie you can try and deliver confidently this time. But who are you kidding? You were never good at it, and it’s best to just rip off the bandaid.
With one last glance up at him, you see he’s not going to budge until he gets an answer, so you give him what he’s looking for. “Yeah, that’s… ‘my deal’,” you phrase his words in air quotes. “I haven’t really done, well, anything, and I don’t really know where to start,” you admit, still not looking him in the eyes. Frank nods as he lets your voice fill the air and you notice him making another curious face.
“When you say ‘anything’, what exactly do you mean?” he asks in a softer tone this time, no hint of teasing in his words. It’s then that you finally meet his brown eyes and see the kindness in their warm color. You bring in a deep breath and prepare yourself for the worst possible reaction to your following words.
“Um—,” you cut yourself off with a sigh, letting out all the air in your lungs and attempting to stall the embarrassment a moment longer. “Okay, like drinking, smoking, drugs…” you continue the list and watch him nod after each addition. “Never had sex, never—,”
“Bullshit,” his rumbly voice interrupts you, shaking his head in disbelief. The pout that forms on your lips is involuntary; you feared he wouldn’t have believed it, but you suppose it’s better than him teasing you. From the corner of your eyes you watch his lips part and his jaw go slack as he realizes what you said was the truth.
“Christ, you… you’re serious?” he questions as he looks at you in shock. You only nod silently, not sure how to continue from here. There’s a long pause where Frank is still as stone, remaining silent but seemingly trying to process the new information he’s discovered. The air feels so thick you worry that if you open your mouth to speak you’ll only choke.
The sound of a rumbly chuckle fills the air and you look up to see his wide smile. He’s dragging his palm down his mouth and rubbing his jaw as he shifts his hips forward and leans back into the cushions once more. You feel anger bubbling up and it quickly replaces the mortification that had been consuming you for the past few minutes.
“Screw you! I knew you wouldn’t have taken it seriously.” You cross your arms over your chest as you turn away from him. You felt stupid for sharing this with him, and now he has the audacity to laugh? Over something this personal?
“No, no, sweetheart, hey—,“ the pet name again does nothing to dull the burning under the skin of your cheeks. “I wasn’t teasing it’s just…,” he sighs heavily and shrugs his shoulders, “it’s a surprise, y’know?” 
As much as you want to stay upset with him, you’re not sure your resolve can last that long. You attempt to maintain your defensive position and don’t dare soften the angry glare you’re shooting at him.
“Oh, don’t give me that look,” he starts, but you don’t budge. “C’mon, I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting it, s’all. Kinda hard to believe, honestly.” Your head perks up at the last sentence and you shoot him a look of pure disbelief.
“Yeah, well… you’re obviously the only one who thinks that,” you mumble, the self-deprecating words falling past your lips before you even register them. Frank sighs deeply and you notice the way his eyes are flickering all around your face, presumably trying to gauge how upset you are.
“It’s not like I want this,” you huff, deflating into the couch, “but now it’s like even if I want to try stuff, I don’t know what I’m doing.” You begin picking at your fingers as the insecurity grows with his silence. “It’s like everybody did the crash course in high school and they have experience. I don't even know where to start…” As you trail off, the silence becomes deafening and you find yourself missing his laughter because at least that was something.
“Aaaaand I said too much. Sorry, it’s just something that’s frustrated me for years and… yeah,” you decide it’s better to end the conversation than wait on a reply that won’t come.
“You didn’t say too much,” he finally speaks up, and the weight on your chest begins to dissipate. “Was lettin’ you get it all out,” he explains. He holds his chin between his thumb and index finger, grazing his jaw lightly and tilting his head as he thinks over your confession. You find yourself subconsciously holding your breath as you prepare for the worst possible response he could give you.
“Said you didn’t know where to start, right? Why don’t we start with something small, hmm? How about that beer?” Frank nods his head once in the direction of the abandoned bottle he had grabbed for you. You eye it hesitantly and think over the worst that could happen. Coming up with virtually nothing, you nod back to him, deciding it would be one small victory to deal with today. 
As you wrap your fingers around the bottle, you raise your hand and turn to Frank. He mimics you, lifting his own in the air before clearing his throat.
“To…” he trails off, trying to come up with something as a cheer. His eyes drift off to somewhere else in the room, his lips parted as his eyebrows pull together. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you at his very serious thinking face. Not wanting him to hurt himself from racking his brain much longer, you speak up.
“To trying new things,” you say confidently, and the second the words leave your mouth you’re already regretting them. You physically wince at your word choice and now it’s Frank’s turn to stifle a laugh. “Yeah, that was pretty lame,” you admit to him. “Sounded better in my head.”
“Think it sounded perfect,” he replies before tilting his bottle towards you. You follow his lead as he brings the drink to his lips and you don’t think twice before tilting your own head back. The second the flavor hits your tongue you can feel your face scrunching up involuntarily. You bring the bottle away immediately and your lips purse at the taste in your mouth. Frank’s laughter rumbles out deep from his chest and you watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows it down with no reaction. 
“Attagirl, one thing down. That wasn't too hard now was it?” he speaks once he’s brought the glass bottle away from his mouth. Thankfully, the nasty beer is enough to distract you from reacting to his praise.
“You didn’t tell me it tasted like piss!” you exclaim, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand.
“This is actually one of the good ones,” you watch as he takes another swig. “But you’re right, it’s not all that great,” he admits before licking his lips and looking at you.
Any residual awkwardness you felt only moments before has all but vanished and you feel comfort just being here with him. You smile softly to yourself as you brush your thumb along the curved glass of the neck of the bottle.
“Thank you for this,” you speak up, “it feels nice to get something crossed off the list.”
“Any time, kid,” his voice is raspy and you try to dissuade your stomach from doing flips at his tone.
The smile on your face grows wider in the silence, feeling a small amount of pride bubbling in your chest knowing that you tried something new. It doesn’t seem like such a big feat once you’ve climbed over the hill, but there’s always been that fear that keeps you paralyzed and unable to even attempt to move forward. You truly meant your words, you’re thankful that he gave you that little push.
“Y’know, I could help… with the list, I mean.” You’re almost certain you’ve never felt your heart beat quite this hard before. Frank waits until your eyes have locked with his before he speaks slowly, carefully chooses his words as he continues. “O-Only if you want, obviously. Just… said you wish you knew how to do it the first time, right? So it wouldn’t be such a big deal?” You hesitantly nod, still not wanting to assume what he’s proposing until he explicitly says it.
“Yeah, so I figured we could have you practice? Make sure you know what you’re doing before you get out there,” he ends his sentence with a shrug, as if it’s the most nonchalant offer.
“What?” you desperately try to ignore the way your words shake slightly. “Like you’d teach me?” You can’t even help the incredulous tone your words are soaked in. You can hardly even fathom the idea of Frank Castle being the one to show you the ropes, much less actually acting those things out with him.
“Yeah? If that’s alright?” He smiles gently and you feel your body beginning to relax some. “Just… I saw how much it meant to you and I wanna help,” he explains further, and you swear you’ve never seen sincerity like the way it’s shining in his warm, brown eyes.
You swallow thickly as you think over his proposition. It feels like this is some sort of dream; you’re waiting for your alarm to ring out as your vision slowly fades, waking up in your bedroom alone. But no amount of pinching your skin will rip you from this moment. It feels too good to be true, but it’s happening regardless. He’s waiting on an answer and it’s honestly the best offer you could think of being handed to you on a silver platter.
“And hey, you absolutely don’t have to say—”
“Yes,” you finally decide. You can’t even believe you said it.
“You sure?” he asks again, his eyes flickering between your own. You think it’s sweet how he tries to make sure you’re certain of your decision. You smile widely as you nod at him, the butterflies returning to your stomach once again.
“Also, we don’t, like, have to have sex… just so you know. I know that’s a lot, but I can help with the stuff leading up to it?” You grin and nod again and Frank laughs lightly at your response. “Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable with it.”
“I am! I’m just excited, sorry,” you fidget with the hem of your shirt in an attempt to channel all the newfound energy elsewhere. Frank’s chuckle grows louder and you wonder if you imagined the soft “cute” that was muttered under his breath.
“So…” he speaks up and you turn to face him completely. “How would you feel about crossin’ something else off the list?” You nod immediately as all the nervousness from before switches to excitement while it courses through you.
“Okay…” he laughs softly at your quick reaction. “Let’s see,” he pauses for a moment as he thinks before his eyes light up with an idea. “You ever been kissed?” You feel the familiar shyness creeping up again, but you choose to push it back down. Instead, you just softly shake your head and watch as he nods in understanding.
“You want to try it?” he asks, his lips curling into a smirk. You hum an agreement and watch as he moves a bit closer to you on the couch. Once again you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for this to be some sort of joke. But Frank only waits for you to take the initiative to close the space between the two of you.
Now that you’re facing each other on the couch, you can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as you wait for him to make the first move. He smiles reassuringly before raising his hand and cradling the side of your neck. His thumb brushes your cheek as his long fingers curl around the back, holding you gently in place.
“You sure you want this?” he confirms. Again, you nod eagerly.
“I gotta hear you say it, sweetheart. That’s my rule,” he explains.
“Oh…” you whisper as you glance between his eyes and his lips, “yes.” You feel your heart swelling at the fact that he wants to make sure you truly want what he’s offering. His eyes are fixed on your mouth, muttering one last, “Okay,” before leaning forward.
The second his lips touch yours, you’re surprised at how soft they are. He’s gentle with his movements and softly sucks your lower lip between his own. It only takes a moment for you to kiss him back, careful to only mimic his actions and still let him lead. The kiss is warm and sweet and you feel the blood rushing through your cheeks and tingling down your neck. His thumb catches your bottom lip and pulls it down slowly, breaking the kiss. Frank breathes gently as he licks his lips, his eyes flickering between yours.
“How was that?” he asks, his breath fanning over your mouth as he speaks.
“It was good. I-I liked it,” you smile sheepishly, subconsciously pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to savor the feeling.
“Yeah?” he tilts his head as the question leaves his mouth, his eyes squinting as he glances from your eyes to your mouth. You once again nod before you even think to do it.
“Alright, now I wanna give you a real one.”
“A real one?” you pout and stare at him confusedly.
He only smirks before leaning forward again, pressing his lips to yours harder. This time, his palm guides your jaw to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss. The stubble lining his jaw scratches at your cheeks, and the prickling has you melting under his touch. You try your best to keep up, but his scent feels like it’s truly suffocating you now; you can hardly kiss him back with how overwhelmed you are. The next thing you register is the wet heat of his tongue brushing along your bottom lip, slowly tracing the shape before he pushes it inside your mouth. His tongue glides against your own and there's a small moan that escapes from your throat.
All too soon his lips leave yours and you open your eyes at the loss of contact. Frank’s own eyes are still shut and you watch as he clenches his jaw, almost as if he’s holding himself back from something.
“Are you okay?” you ask gently, worried you messed up somehow.
“Yeah… just, that was the sweetest god damn thing I’ve heard.” His voice is so deep it sends a shiver down your spine. Out of all the times you’ve dreamt of having your first kiss, you never thought it would’ve been that good. And to think, an impulse decision to watch a movie with him led you to this plan to gain experience. You find yourself already missing the feeling of his tongue, of the scratch that his stubble gave when he deepened the kiss.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he knocks your knee softly with his own, attempting to grab your attention. “You’re being too quiet.”
“I just, well, I wanna do it again,” you admit, looking away nervously. In one sudden motion Frank tugs you into his lap and you yelp as you wrap your arms around his neck. He laughs softly as he stares up at you but doesn’t waste a second before kissing you even quicker than before. There’s only a few chances you can take to catch your breath because he hardly breaks the kiss. You never thought someone as attractive as him would want to kiss you this much, but confidence rushes through your body as his affection continues.
Frank’s mouth begins to wander, his lips finding new space that had otherwise been untouched. The corner of your mouth, your chin, your jaw—he never stops kissing you until he gets to your throat. From there, his lips part and he begins sucking on your neck. A shaky gasp leaves you as his teeth make purchase on your skin, softly biting before brushing his tongue over the mark.
“Done two new things,” he mutters, his lips moving around the words but never leaving your body. “How’s it feel?”
“I really like this,” you say breathlessly as you feel his teeth gently graze the sensitive skin of your neck. He hums into your throat, the vibration setting your skin alight before you finish your thought, “You can keep the beer though.”
Frank’s chuckle gets caught in his throat, resulting in the cutest snort you’ve ever heard. He presses soft kisses along your collarbone and looks up at you with sweet, brown eyes.
“Sure, kid, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
1K notes · View notes
twstfanblog · 2 months
Text
~Manhwa AU- A Fairytale Do-Over~ Pt 2
A/N: GUESS WHAT I FINISHED~? It's been hot as fuck over here recently and our house doesn't have central air. So writing has been hard, but I managed! Enjoy Malleus's huberous trying to hit him but he's still too short to get the lesson. Next part will be when Yuu meets Leona! Word Count: 3.9K Pairings: Yuu & Malleus (Their friendship has ended and he doesn't even know it), Sibling Malleus & Silver, Parental Lilia & Silver Prev / Next
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The royal palace was massive, the size rivaling that of an urban village. And that didn't include the gardens, the patios, the woods attached to the grounds; the area was so large that there were even hidden places Lilia didn't know about. It was grand and it was lavished, all that an empirical bloodline could want. But it was empty, halls filled with priceless artwork and historical artifacts echoed with every footstep you took.
It was a sound Lilia had heard twice and never wished to hear a third time. First was when he was brought to the palace to be Maleanor’s playmate, second was the day after her and her husband's funeral.
And now, as he stared down a twitching servant, he was sure the palace had started to prep itself to return to such a state. He massaged his temples, taking a long and slow breath in, “Forgive me…I must have grown hard of hearing in my age…what did you say?”
The servant shook in terror, the silver tray he held in his hands jostling the letter on it. Lilia Vanrouge was retired as a general, but no one in the fleet of servants or guards dared to upset him. Even delivering bad news was seen as foolish and asking to be punished, “Yu-…The young miss Crowley’s invite was returned…unopened…We called their residence to ask…but the servants are stating that…she is ill and unwilling to attend…”
“…”
Lilia felt…flabbergasted. Yuu had attended Malleus's birthdays sick before, the adoration the young girl held for his charge gave her the will to suffer through hours of discomfort. No illness or annoyingly loud guests could deter her from spending time with her friend.
But even thinking that made him flinch. Malleus was not…receptive to Yuu's kindness or shows of friendship. The young fae lord had found the girl to be clingy, annoying, downright a pain. But no matter how he protested their playdates, Lilia kept scheduling them because Malleus needed someone to see as his equal.
Though he was the crowned prince, a marvel to the fae and kingdom, Yuu was by marriage his cousin and closest of equal royal standing. Malleus’s father was not of noble blood, a fact that kept his and Maleanor’s love from truly being accepted by the council. Luckily, Levan had cut a deal with Dire, being formally adopted into the Crowley line in exchange for more loyal ties with the empire's crown once Levan and Maleanor had married.
A promise that was kept with playdates to the two houses’ heirs.
Lilia bit his lip. Though both of Malleus's parents had passed and such a promise meant nothing now, the Crowley line was all Malleus had in terms of extended family. The old fae wanted them to be close should misfortune fall upon him and leave Malleus without a proper guardian.
But Malleus was his mother's son…
Haughty, arrogant, and beautiful. He looked down on nearly everyone around him, deeming them weak and powerless against his steadily growing might. He skipped his lessons; half from his naturally absent-minded nature, mostly because he felt too good to listen to weaker fae try to teach him.
So introducing a magicless girl nearly five years younger as his equal did not go well…
Since their first playdate and Malleus had stomped back into the palace covered in mud, furious, he had simply despised the Crowley child. Yuu had merely giggled and asked to play with Malleus again, saying he was funny and she liked him. To this day, Lilia wasn't sure why Malleus had been covered in mud nor why he seemed to detest Yuu so much so quickly…He refused to repeat what happened and it only sent Yuu into a fit of laughter whenever asked. He wondered if he should have used his magic to see what had caused the issue when he still had the chance…
He sighed, picking the letter up and ignoring the servant's flinching when his hand drew near. Studying it, he marveled, it really was unopened. A part of him felt the claws of dread slowly wrap around his heart, his fears becoming realized before his eyes. Had Yuu finally had enough? Were two years of verbal abuse what caused the young girl to open her eyes to Malleus’s mistreatment and simply not return.
Turning away, he dismissed the servant and bit his lip again. Malleus didn't have other playmates. Malleus, like his mother, was feared by his subjects. A fact that made companionship more difficult than Lilia wished it would be. He wondered if he should visit the Crowley duchy, slip a tonic from the royal infirmary to have the girl healed in time for the party-
“Lilia, Silver's fallen asleep again.”
Lilia looked to the doorway, his worries melting off his shoulders at the heartwarming scene.
While Malleus had created a type of feud with the Crowley girl, he completely adored Silver; claiming the boy as his brother since he first saw him sleeping in his bassinet. They stood in the opened doorway, Malleus in a more informal attire and cradling Silver to his front. The silver-haired nine-year-old fast asleep in the prince's arms releasing angelic snores.
Sighing, Lilia held his free arm out with a small smile, “Bring him here, I will watch him while you finish your studies.”
Passing the sleeping child over, Malleus scoffed under his breath and rolled his eyes, “Studies. I have no need…” His eyes catch the glint of silver in Lilia’s hand, “What is that?”
Lilia didn’t have a chance to answer, Malleus reaching up and snatching the letter out of his guardian’s hands. Huffing, Lilia used his now free hand to properly hold Silver, “We’ve been over this; don’t snatch things from people-”
“Is this…Yuu’s invitation?” Malleus stares at the envelope, turning it over in his hands and becoming bewildered as he notices it wasn’t even opened, “Have you…Not sent this to the Crowley’s Duchy yet…?” His party was only a week away and the grand duchy was at least half a day’s journey away.
“…” Sighing, Lilia turned away from Malleus’s inquisitive eyes, “The invitation was returned unopened. Word is that the young lady Crowley is ill and unable to attend…”
Malleus stood in silence, staring at Lilia’s back before looking down at the letter in his hand, “Oh…” With a smile, he flicked the letter past Lilia and sent it directly into the lit fireplace.
“Malleus!” Lilia watched the letter burn, flaring green in a flash as the wax melted into the flames. Turning around he tried to pin a glare at the giddy preteen, “Why would you do that!?”
With a shrug, Malleus turned around with a smile. Wiping his hands of the situation as though he had easily solved all his problems, “There’s no need for it. She’s ill, isn’t she? Plus, they returned the invite. It’s within my right to do with it as I will.” He clapped his hands together as his thoughts ran wild, the very promise of Yuu not attending his party making him more and more excited for the event, “This shall be my most wonderful birthday yet! Maybe I will be just as lucky next year and she’ll still be ill.”
Lilia could only frown as Malleus laughed, walking out of the room. While Lilia hoped the young prince would go to his lessons, he knew he was more than likely heading toward the gardens or to his growing horde room. Sighing, the bi-colored fae looks down to his sleeping child. It would all be much easier if he just placed Silver as the prince’s playmate. Malleus adored Silver, but Silver was quiet. Silver was so quiet. A fact that would only echo in this massive palace as the years go on. Lilia could only hope that he’d find a cure for whatever sleep curse affected his boy. Maybe Silver could be the bridge between the two; a thesaurus for two similar yet wildly different languages.
He hoped that Malleus wouldn’t be too upset on the day of his party.
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The servants would say the day of Malleus's party was divine. Not a tantrum, eye-roll, nor threat of permanent dismissal in sight. He allowed himself to be dressed easily in his outfit, black silks and furs, precious gems stitched to mimic the night sky their lands were famous for and a winding silver banded crown. Malleus looked like a prince of the infamous Noctorn Empire and he was excited.
He had talked Lilia and Silver's ears off at breakfast; his plans to speak to everyone for once since Yuu wouldn't be attached to his side and babbling nonstop. He didn't notice the concerned look in Lilia's eyes when he'd excused himself to use the emergency phone. Lilia called the Crowley duchy directly to ask if they were truly not attending the party. Crewel merely stating they had sent their gifts and wished Malleus a happy birthday in their absence. Yuu hadn't even been heard over the call.
As the beginning of the event drew closer, Lilia felt his nerves worsen, as if a looming threat was breathing down his neck and waiting to strike. A feeling that only grew stronger as Silver lost his fight with wakefulness, falling asleep a little after the first few guests started to populate the entry hall. Lilia had gathered the deadweight child into his arms, tasking Malleus to greet the guests alone while he placed Silver in a more docile environment until he woke up.
Malleus tried, he truly did. He spoke aloud and clearly as Lilia had always instructed him, head held high so that his chin and the ground were two parallel lines. He tried to shake people's hands, growing frustrated as they refused to release the brightly wrapped gifts to do such a thing. After the 6th awkward shuffle away from his outstretched hands he simply elected to not shake anymore of the lord's hands. After the 15th nervous and stuttered hello, he stopped greeting them too.
He huffed, mildly pouting as he left the entry hall, walking toward the guarded room that held his mountain of presents; gifts to be opened and cataloged once all the guests had left. Greeting people alone wasn't as fun as he imagined it would be. It would have been easier if Lilia hadn't left to tend to Silver. Lilia was a social creature in such a way that Malleus never understood, neither him nor Yuu made sense to him as to how they got people to respond so easily to them. But then again, the very thought of Yuu beside him and greeting everyone in his place made him more frustrated. The sight of her gift, as always wrapped in black and white with a bright green bow, only worsened his mood.
Slamming his hand into the brick, leaving behind Cracks and a medium-sized indent he made the choice to enter the banquet hall. (Unaware of the few cowering party guests slowly backing away from him).
The room was filled with people, fine fabrics swishing around the room in elegant dances. Looking around his enthusiasm dipped again. There were so many adults more than children his age, adults that would only give him a half glance and a respectful bow. Malleus walked along the edges of crowds, trying to see if any conversation piqued his interest or if any of the adults would glance his way to wish him a happy birthday. He received plenty of quick bows, long-winded birthday blessings with his full title. A few had even tried to start a conversation, beginning with a comment on their relation to his mother or father. Only to suck their mouths in like they had tasted the worst type of lemon flavor, remembering he never meant his mother nor his father. From there they would bow again and turn to scamper away into a crowd, leaving him alone again.
Just as he began to wonder just where Lilia was placing Silver, he saw someone who made his hopes relight. Another child his age was standing by a window, looking out the large stained glass with an air of boredom around him. They were a noble of origin from outside the empire, their clothing was brightly colored and heavily patterned. A crown of beads and braids kept dark brown hair neat yet wild, a pair of small, round lion ears peaking through. The hint of brown skin visible from the edge of their loose sleeves and crossed arms.
Gathering a bit of courage, swallowing to wet his mouth, Malleus walked forward. He smiled and tilted his head, tapping the other on the shoulder to gain his attention, “Hello. Are you enjoying the party?”
The other boy seemed to startle, almost as if he had planned on being invisible for hours more and Malleus's acknowledgement broke his trance. The boy turned to him, showing his face was marred over one eye with a long thin scar, the bright emerald green slightly duller than the other.
Once he saw who was speaking to him, he frowned. Turning away and looking at Malleus from the corner of his brighter eye as though he was a bug, “Go away.” Short, simple, and sour.
Malleus startled himself. No one had…ever dismissed him in such a way. Even when Lilia sent him away to his own devices, He said as such with an air of teasing, jovial. This…this was just rude. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped into the other boy's line of sight when he fully turned away, “Why should I? You are aware this is my birthday party, aren’t you? You should feel honored that I'm speaking to you.”
The boy scoffs, facing him directly and placing his hands on his hips. Smug, arrogant; he wasn't taller by any means but it felt as though he was looking down his nose at him, “Why would I feel honored being spoken to by a lizard?”
“…” Lightning flashed outside, bringing the already soft ambiance into a fearful silence, “A LIZARD!?” YOU DARE CALL ME A LIZARD!?”
“A lizard who throws tantrums at that.”
“Leona!” Two older men quickly rush over, looking similar to ‘Leona’ with their attire, ears, and, face yet more alike each other with their matching bold red hair. The shorter, younger man had gripped Leona by the shoulders, trying to force the boy into a bow, “Apologize! You promised you'd behave tonight!”
The older man, his red hair streaked with thin yet vivid lines of grey bowed, “A thousand apologies, Your Highness. Please forgive my youngest son. He is still recovering from an injury you see-”
“I don't care about excuses!” Malleus glared, stomping his foot as the lightning flashing again and sent the room into spasms of eerie green light. He pointed toward the scowling Leona, “He called me a lizard!”
“Malleus, lower your tone. You are among company.” Lilia walked over, placing a hand onto his charge’s shoulder and pulling him back as a physical reminder to calm down, “What's happened here?”
“It seems my son-”
Scoffing loudly, Leona rolled his head back and spoke aloud, “I called the stupid lizard, a lizard and he threw a fit over it.”
“Leona.” The younger man strained, shaking Leona by his shoulders in an effort to physically shake the sense into him.
Lilia frowned, looking down his nose at the defiant child with lidded eyes, “That's rather rude don't you think?” He looked from the corner of his eye, catching the eldest man's gaze, “Duke Kingscholar. I wasn't aware you were raising such…brazen children...”
The duke's bow seemed to deepen, “Truly, I offer apologies for every star in the sky. My youngest is recovering from an injury and fever. He isn't thinking clearly-”
The eldest brother leaned down, whispering to the sour-faced child while their father tried to save face with Lilia, “Leona, apologize. Dad's gonna make you sit in the carriage again if you don't-”
“Fine then! I didn't want to come to this dumb party anyway!”
The duke sprang up, his face furious as he rounded on his youngest son, “LEONA!”
Malleus could feel the lightning crackle outside, the bolts dancing along the sealed windows in eagerness to strike Leona down, “How…dare you!? My birthday party is the highest honor any could hope to attend, and you stand here, wasting it and calling my wrath!”
Leona scoffed, rolling his eyes before leveling Malleus with an almost arctic glare, “Who'd consider it an honor to attend a party of someone they don't even like?”
The eldest boy tried to pull his brother back, worry on his face as the lights along the wall started to flash and flicker with the green electricity struggling to breach the walls, “Leona. Enough.”
Malleus glared back, eyes almost glowing from his rage, “I don't care if you like me or not. I am your prince and you will respect me!”
Leona lets out a loud and sharp laugh, shaking himself free of his brother's hands to step closer to Malleus, “I don't respect you and I don't like you. No one does.”
“That's…That's A lie! People like me!”
“Oh, look around!” Leona gestures his arms out, only continuing when Malleus makes small cautious glances around the room, “No one here likes you, they're all afraid of you! And you're too stupid to see it, you pompous motherfuc-”
Leona was all but snatched into the air, his older brother holding his body in one arm while the other pressed tightly to his mouth. He bowed, a mumble of his brother not feeling well before he quickly absconded from the area.
Duke Kingscholar sighed, offering one last apology and a birthday blessing before he followed his sons out.
Malleus watched them leave along with everyone else. And once the Kingscholars had left he looked around the room once more, a new feeling of a sinking stone growing heavier and heavier. No one would meet his eyes, nothing past an accidental glance before quickly bowing. No one other than Lilia came to his defense, every last guest letting him be berated and mocked by a spare. And for what? To stand at the edge of their tif and cower? To…to look at him with fearful eyes?
Only once the Kingscholars left did he realize just how far away everyone else was in that moment. How even as the lightning cleared, the storm calming, no one dared approach him. No one dared look him in the eyes.
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The party continued, the Kingscholars did not return and Malleus was happy for that at least. Leona was…a form of abrasive that he didn't care to deal with ever again.
He thought this birthday would be amazing, the best of his short eleven years of life. Instead, he spent the night beside Lilia, holding onto his hand and refusing to look up. Not out of any true nervousness or shame. He just…didn't want to see how no one looked his way.
They danced, they had a meal, they had cake. Everyone left after another hour of standing and talking. Were birthday parties always so…boring? Or was it just because it was his 11th birthday? Was it because Silver didn't wake midway through for cake cutting like he normally did? Was it…was it because Yuu wasn't there?
The thought annoyed him. Yuu would have never left him alone if she was there, she never had any other celebration. Clinging onto him to greet guests, chasing him through the halls while the adults spoke and networked. A leeching shadow that no matter where he went, she would worm her way into the same place at some point.
“Malleus?”
The horned fae looked up, a half-asleep Silver holding the signature black and white present out to him, “Do you want me to have Yuu's present again this year? Father said she didn't come…”
“…” Sighing, Malleus took the gift from Silver's hands, ripping the paper with an annoyed air to the act, “No. I'll keep it. She's ill; there's no telling what kind of human illness you'll catch from whatever she's coughed on in here.”
Lilia sighed, but didn't speak more. Gathering the wrapping paper of the other gifts Malleus had opened and quickly discarded for not holding his interest. He watched his son yawn, smiling as he pointed to the small table with tea and two thin slices of cake, “Silver, have some tea and cake; it'll wake you up a bit.”
“But, you said I can't have sweets past 9pm?”
“Well, I decided you can today. You normally are awake to have a slice of cake during the party…”
“I know…I'm sorry.”
“Silly boy. There's nothing to apologize for…”
As Malleus looked into the gift box in his hands, the sounds of his guardian and brother faded into the background, equally muffled by the crackling of the fireplace. Inside the present was a pair of oddly knitted tubes. To anyone else, they'd be a pair of hideous mittens for someone who didn't even have hands, but Malleus knew what they really were.
Yuu had asked him, earlier that season when he was again forced to have tea with her, if his horns ever got cold in the Winter. He had glared, telling her to not ask such stupid questions, having no time nor the knowledge to explain that his horns never felt cold in Winter nor hot in Summer and he didn't know why. An answer that seemed to have not satisfied the annoying girl, since she had made and gifted him a pair of unseemly horn warmers.
He held them in his hands, the knots sloppy yet tight. The pattern was off and he's certain there were two different shades of green in the same area. They were ugly, plain and simple. But they were something other than a grotesque or a gargoyle cruelly ripped from their post. Useless, priceless gems he had no need for or the rare foolish gift of iron weapons and accessories. The black yarn was too thick, almost swallowing the designs made with the green yarn. Both colors pressed so close that the black seemed greenish in the right light.
Just as Yuu's eyes would.
He knew the Crowley girl's eyes were black, a brown so dark and deep that they mimicked a starless new moon sky mixed with the dying breath of a sunset. But when…when she looked him in the eyes…they almost seemed to leech the green from his own.
“…Lilia.” A beat of silence before the older fae gave a questioning hum, “Yuu's been sick before right?”
“…” Lilia perks up, turning to face Malleus directly as he notices he had opened Yuu’s present, “…Um…yes, a few times before. Why do you ask?”
“…Does…does she feel better soon? She isn’t sick for long, right?”
“…” Lilia smiles, stepping closer and ruffling the hair in the space between Malleus’s horns with a giggle, “I'm sure she will better quicker than you expect! Your little friend will be right as rain and back in the palace for playdates before you know it!”
Malleus pouts, slapping his guardian’s hands away and trying to smooth his ruffled hair. The woolen tubes in his hands not helping in the slightest as they only made his hair more frizzy, “I don’t want her back here! I just don’t want to hear about the bothersome thing dying!” He stands, forgoing his other presents but keeping the ugly warmers locked in his grasp unknowingly, “I’m going to bed! Even when she isn’t around, she manages to ruin everything…”
Floating, Lilia flipped himself upside down, pinching at a furious Malleus’s cheek, “Aw~! You do like her!”
“NO! I DON’T!”
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135 notes · View notes
moonlightisdancing · 6 months
Text
Watermelon Sugar/ s.f.k
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Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!Reader
Word Count: 2607
Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI 18+ kissing, oral sex (f receiving), spanking (if you squint), fingering, begging, hair pulling, hickies, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls!), breeding
LMK IF I MISSED ANY TAGS!
🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉
“C’mon, love, time to wake up.” Sam runs his hand up and down your side, bringing his lips to kiss the shell of your ear. His fingers slid under your shirt on his second pass up your side, the gentle pads sinking into the soft skin of your belly.
“Mm, can’t we just stay here?” You whisper and nudge your hips back hoping you could sway his decision.
“Y/n, baby… I mean, we could but I already paid for the pass.”
“Ten more minutes.” You’re not asking, more so telling. Did you really have to leave now, anyways? He had you pack your bags two days ago… and he had put them in the car as soon as they were zipped. All there was left was the drive.
“Ten more.” He repeats in solidarity, his hand laying flat on your tummy. You can feel the beginning outline of morning wood against your ass, if there was one thing to keep you in bed, it was this. You nudge your ass back against his groin, placing your hand over his and pressing his palm harder against your skin.
“Maybe twenty?” You ask this time, trying to sweeten the deal.
“Uh-uh, I know what you’re trying to do. We’re going.” Sam backs his hips away from you, turning to lay on his back.
“What am I trying to do?” You turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow as you watch him think of his next words.
“Trying to seduce me, woman!” He moves his hand down to adjust himself in his boxers, bringing his arm back up to rest behind his head. You sit up and straddle his legs, placing your hands on his chest and dragging them across his bare skin. You give him the sweetest eyes you can as you slowly lower your chest to be resting against his. You pepper kisses across his chest before resting your cheek over his heart, listening to the beat it drums. His hands come over your body to wrap around your back, pulling you closer to his chest than you thought was possible. He was getting harder beneath your weight from no efforts of your own, his fingers tracing along your spine.
“Mm, Sammy,” You whined as the sensation from his fingers urged your body to shiver in response. In turn, that meant grinding deeper onto his clothed cock. “Fifteen minutes left should be enough, right?”
“Nowhere near enough time for what I wanna do to you.” He admitted shamelessly, a side of him you wished he'd show more. You lift your head up again to continue kissing his chest, going until your lips reach his nipple. You look up at him through hooded eyes before drawing your tongue towards his nipple and flicking it, the combination of spit and air causing it to pebble. Sam moans followed by an audible swallow.
“How about now?” You teased before continuing to kiss his chest, trailing up to his neck.
“I can do it better, y’know.”
“What?”
“I can flick my tongue better.” He finally moves his hands from your back to resting at the waistband of your panties. “Want me to remind you?”
All you offer is a nod and a short mhm and before you know it he’s inching you up his body until your center is lined up with his mouth. He brushes his fingers over your clothed clit before tucking them into part of fabric that meets the junction of your thigh and center. Pulling them to the side, he blows a stream of cool air against your exposed skin.
“So wet, sweet girl.” He didn’t even give you a second to register or respond to his words before his hands were planted on your hips, pushing you down onto his tongue as he lapped at your clit. His fingers dug deep into the supple skin of your ass as you rode out your orgasm, coating his face in your slick. Even after finishing, he licked between your folds until there was nothing left before ushering your legs from around his head.
“My turn now?” You asked, running your hands down his chest, stopping at the band of his boxers.
“Uh-uh, gotta go.” He sits up and kisses you softly before getting out of bed, tossing you a pair of shorts and one of his shirts from high school.
~🍉~
“I think there’s an extra piece…” You say as you struggle to push the pieces together to the tent. Years of Girl Scouts have evidently failed you as your tent looked more like a pile of polyester and metal poles than, well, a tent. You wonder how he always manages to talk you into outdoor activities. The heat was nauseating to say the least, and you were never successful in your attempts to set up the tent or start fires. But it always makes you feel bad when sets everything up by himself.
“Babe, there probably shouldn’t be extra pieces.” Sam drops your shared duffle bag against the hefty trunk of a nearby tree before making his way towards you.
“Okay, well I’m telling you- there is.” Unlike the pieces you were attempting to put together, you snapped. You watch between your legs and see Sam’s feet approaching you from behind. It’s only a matter of seconds before his large palms find purchase on your hips, his thumbs rubbing soft circles across your lower back.
“Woah, woah, woah. Deep breath, it’s okay. Do you want me to get it?” He almost doesn’t give you a choice as he uses his hands to help you stand up. Your backside rubs against his groin as he slowly brings you upright.
“I just wanna help! You always do everything a-and I just wanna… Ugh.” You frown as you turn around to face him. Sam wraps his arms around your shoulders and you press your forehead to his bare chest.
“Breathe, honey girl, you can still help. Do you wanna set up the hammock? You always pick the best spot,” He pulls away to look you in the eyes, bringing one hand to rest against your cheek.
“Okay, I can do that.” You nod your head yes and place your flat palm against the heated skin of his chest. Sam cups your chin and brings you in for a kiss, pulling away for a second before pecking your lips again.
“Hammock’s over there.” He points next to the duffel bag to a smaller striped bag. You turn to walk away, leaving Sam with whatever you had going on regarding the tent, if you could call it that. As soon as you pass him, he reaches back to smack your ass.
“Go team!”
“Saaaam!” You whine, rubbing your hand over your skin to soothe the sensation.
~🍉~
Finding the perfect spot for the hammock was no issue for you, in fact it was the one thing you felt confident in during these ventures. Sam hums a tune you don’t recognize, probably something off their newest project. You smile and slide the rope through the hoop at the end of the hammock, wrapping the rope around the trunk of the tree, and delicately twisting and tying each knot, repeating the process on both sides until the hammock is safely secured between your trees of choice. Embarrassingly enough, Sam still managed to fix the entire tent before you finished hanging the hammock. In your defense, most of the hard work had been done.
“That part was in fact not extra, by the way.” Sam states while walking towards you. “How’s hammocking going?”
“Good, I think it’s ready.” You rub your hands down your shirt and turn on your heels to face Sam.
“Wanna try it out?” He motions his hand towards the hanging fabric. You stand in front of it and gently position yourself in the middle, sitting on the hammock before throwing your legs up into the nest of cloth.
“It’s perfect!” You ring out into the woods.
“Room for one more, you think?” Sam asks as he makes his way over, following suit. To your surprise he successfully found his way nestled in next to you without any casualties. In a matter of moments, your legs find themselves thrown over his, your arms wrapped around his torso and face buried into his chest. He hums at the contact, bringing his hand to rest on your side, the other under your head allowing you to rest on his forearm.
“You did a good job, I’m proud of you.” He mumbles into your hair as he kisses the top of your head.
“Thank you, Sammy. And thanks for fixing the tent.”
“Anything for you.”
You nuzzle deeper into his side, bringing your leg up further, in turn drawing his hand lower on your waist until his palm rests against your ass. You’re reminded again how his playful tap felt in the presence of his gentle touch. You subconsciously arch your back, pushing your ass into his hand more firmly than he was allowing himself.
“I’m sorry, is there something I can do for you?” He asks as he squeezes your supple skin with his calloused fingertips before gently kneading the flesh.
“Just thinking about that smack from earlier,”
“Yeah? Did it encourage you to be a team player?” Sam drags his fingers under the hemline of your shorts until they meet the lacey edge of your panties. “Hm, think you’re ready for your prize then?” Sam’s fingers inch under your panties, grazing against your clothed bud.
“Please?” You nudge your hips forward, trying to guide his fingers where you wanted them most. Like a magnet, his fingers are drawn to your center.
“Careful, don’t wanna fall out.” Sam guides two fingers through your folds, gathering your slick on them. You lift your leg to grant him access to wherever he pleases. He slowly works his fingers up until his fingertips dance along your sensitive bud, causing more arousal to drip from your core.
“Sam…”
His free hand finds shelter upon your neck, urging your lips to meet his. He shifts his body gently enough so the hammock doesn’t tip, allowing you easier access to his chest. His lips never leave yours, instead working to become one as he licks into your mouth. His hand goes lower, lower, lower down your pants until his fingers are tapping against your entrance. You moan into his mouth at the sensation and with that Sam pushes his two digits into your aching core. You bring your hands up to undo the buttons on his shirt, exposing the rest of his torso to you. His fingers slowly fuck into you as he pulls his face away from yours, maneuvering his hand to tuck stray strands of hair behind your ears.
“There’s my girl.” He whispers into the space between your faces. Your brows furrow in pleasure, compliments to the pads of his fingers against your g-spot and the name he paid you.
“Sammy, please?” You whine, throwing your head back from the stimulation, the slight breeze cooling the sweat coating your exposed throat. Sam drops his head just enough to allow himself access to your neck, dragging his tongue from the hollow of your throat up to your jawline.
“Please what, pretty baby?”
“Need you… in… me…” Your words come out between hitched breaths, nearly unable to be mumbled at all through waves of your pleasure. Sam slowly pulls his fingers out of you and starts to push your shorts down. You help slip them off while you make work of palming his length through his shorts. The more your palm strokes his clothed length, the harder he becomes, the tip of his dick threatening to grow past the inseams of his tiny blue shorts.
Your fingers brush over the zipper, your nimble fingers quick to undo it, hand slipping past his waistband. He whines at the skin to skin contact as you run your thumb over the head of his aching cock. You let go long enough to tug at the waistband of his boxers until his cock springs loose from the restraints of the fabric. Sam hitches your leg over his thigh once again before bringing his hand down to stroke his length. His other hand is still perched against your neck, the sweat pooling in his palm. His fingers grab at tufts of your hair at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back to look at him as he drags the head of cock over your soaked panties.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” He huffs as he uses the tip of his dick to push your panties aside, running himself through your velvety folds. Sam rests himself at your entrance, tugging your head back further to watch your eyes screw shut as he slowly pushes into you, drawing a hiss from your lips.
“F-faster…”
“Can’t, we’ll fall. Gotta go slow.” He whispers as he slowly moves his hips back and forth, each time feeling slower than the last. Your head falls forward and you press a series of open mouth kisses across Sam’s chest. In some spots your mouth lingers, sucking and nipping at his heated skin until red marks eventually fade to purple. Sam brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing soft circles over your sensitive bud. Your orgasm starts to build, rolling through your body like distant thunder. The feeling starts in your throat, working down until every inch of you is rumbling with anticipation. He slowly moves his hips, pumping his length as deep into your pussy that your body allows. The dusting of hair around his base can still be felt past the barrier of his thumb and it drives you insane. Sam attaches his lips back to your throat and sucks bright pink marks into your skin. You bring your arms between your bodies, digging your nails into Sam’s chest over the series of love marks you left trailed across his chest. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, quickening his circular motions.
“Just like that… Is my pretty girl gonna cum?” His hips find a faster pace, surprisingly one that doesn’t tip the hammock over and end you both up naked on the forest floor. His words push you over the edge, your nails dig deeper into the skin of his chest as your thunderous orgasm finally takes storm. Your once relatively stable breathing turns into uncontrollably whining and whimpering against his neck. “Yeah… you look so pretty when you cum on my cock. Fuck..” Sam follows swiftly behind, his hips stuttering as ropes of his warm release coat your insides. The dominant brunette is quick to succumb to his own desires. His movements come to a halt as he brings his lips to yours again. He kisses you and holds you like an anchor in the storm, as if you’re the only thing tying him down to this earth. After you both come down from your orgasms, Sam finally pulls out, running his fingers between your folds once again. He collects your combined arousal on his fingers, bringing them between your lips and his. You watch as he laps at his digits, tasting your combination.
“Tastes sweet, like strawberries, wanna try?” He hums around his digits waiting for a response. You nod and he brings his hand down again to collect more, patiently waiting as he brings his fingers to your lips and pushes them past the plump, pink skin. You drag your tongue between his fingers, cleaning every drop of your mixed release from between his fingers.
“Perfect spot for the hammock.”
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celestialprincesse · 8 months
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🎤♡
Luck Be a Lady closes out the night for you with cheers and claps and whistles from patrons who think that your performance is something special, uniquely for them, like it's not something you do every night (except Tuesdays) without fail. Same songs, same accompaniments, just different faces in the crowd. All but one. Although, technically John isn't in the crowd amongst his skeezy patrons, he's holed away up in a VIP booth which no one can access apart from him, listening to you sing over a bourbon from a bottle that probably cost more than your rent.
Tonight has been a more tiring one. You can already feel your throat getting tickly and sinuses getting blocked, no doubt a nasty cold coming in. The constantly changing sleep schedule and cold winter banished to he outside of the oddly cosy casino probably don't help matters, either. Upon slipping backstage, you can't help but yearn for a hoodie and some sweats, maybe some fuzzy bedsocks and a pint of ice cream to top it all off, but no luck when the stage manager gives you a quiet "Boss wants to see you."
"John." You acknowledge upon walking into his lavish office, all dark stained wood and buttery leather, plopping yourself down on the chair opposite his own - and regretting it instantly at the way it only increases your desperation to curl up and sleep somewhere warm tenfold. "Bird." Your boss coos back, already taking the initiative to flick on the kettle for you, make you something comforting. "Chamomile or green?" "Chamomile, please." You hum in response, letting your chin rest in the crook of your palm as you weakly attempt to stifle a yawn.
You nurse the sturdy mug between your palms when it's handed to you, revelling in the peace and quiet of Johns office, far from prying eyes and too loud noise, all whilst he pours himself another bourbon and settles in his own high backed office chair.
"You sang beautifully tonight." Johns voice is a low rumble that settles in your bones and warms you from the inside out. "You sing beautifully every night, but tonight you sounded especially lovely."
"Thank you, sir." The mug of tea is warm in your hands as you curl a little further in on yourself, letting your lashes flutter shut against your cheeks for just a blissful moment. "John." He corrects with an almost encouraging sternness which has a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips. "Thank you, John."
"You mentioned changing the setlist last week." The nonchalant observation of your boss has your eyes opening, meeting his eyes so blue that you'd happily drown in them. "Don't look so nervous, Bird. You're the singer, I trust your judgement. Tell me more."
"I just think that - we tend to get repeat customers, right? The regulars who come most nights." John gives an encouraging nod, inviting you to continue as he takes a sip of the golden liquor swirling in his crystal glass. "We do the same setlist almost every night, and I just thought that maybe it'd be a good idea to switch it up from time to time - keep things fresh, keep the customers coming in."
"I'm listening."
"Obviously we keep in some of the classics - the signatures; Luck Be a Lady, Art Deco, Summertime. But maybe we could also do some other stuff too?"
"Like?"
At that you give a little noncommittal shrug, taking a sip of your own drink, inhaling the deliciously fragrant steam. It only lulls you deeper into your tiredness, your longing for a hot bath and the comfort of your bed.
"Fleetwood Mac, Nina Simone, Duran Duran. Stuff that people are familiar with, y'know?" "You've spoken with the band about this?" "Mhm." "Write me up a setlist and I'll sort it."
John gives you an affectionate smile as he withdraws a cigar from the leather case on his desk, a lighter appearing between his fingers not a second later.
"You mind, Bird?" "S' no bother." "You take the underground home, that right?" "Yes, Sir." "John, Bird."
You huff out a quiet little laugh at his insistence, but give him a slow, understanding nod as you sip away at your tea, letting it soothe the irritation in your throat and warm your bones.
"I'll have a car take you home." "Sorry?"
Your obvious confusion has a smirk pulling at the corners of Johns mouth, the sides of his eyes crinkling at the sides. His hand finds yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, affectionate.
"You're cold and it's snowing out. I won't have my Songbird getting sick. What kind of a man would that make me, hm?" "I have a coat - I can always take a cab." "Or you could just let me look after you."
After a few minutes of contemplation, weighing up the thought of walking the half hour to the tube station in shoes very much not made for this weather, or giving in and letting your very attractive employer get you home safe, you give a little nod, a tired, grateful smile angled his way. Wordlessly, John leans back in his imposing chair, legs opening slightly, one hand keeping his cigar between his teeth whilst the other pats the top of his thigh in a silent invitation. It's a tactical choice on his part, a gesture which you can easily ignore, or take him up on.
The sound of your shoes tapping across the floor hits you before your actions do, and yet you can't help but sag into the warmth of his lap, curl into the hand he places so carefully on your cheekbone like a contented cat. John replaces his cigar on the pretty glass ashtray in order to pick up his bourbon, raising it to your parted lips, tipping it gently back, letting the honey coloured alcohol warm your tongue.
"My grandma used to say that Whiskey cured colds." He hums, running his fingers through your hair with gentle reverence, happy to see you relax into the comfort he's wanted to provide you with for so long.
"People also used to say that lead made for good foundation." You quip back affectionately, yawning as you lean back into his touch, letting your head rest on his suited shoulder.
"Very funny, Bird."
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michealwilliams11 · 4 months
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New Found Love pt.3
Wednesday Addams x fem!reader
Summary: Since what happened last time, you never let Wednesday out of your sight. And let just say neither has Wednesday.
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"Wednesday." You called over; your river of tears stopping. "Y/N?" Wednesday said, walking over to you, her voice carried a hint of worry, but she didn't seem to care. "I need you to pack your bags for me." You said, looking over on Wednesday with tears dry on your face. "May I ask why?" Wednesday said, her brows furrowing in confusion. "There's something I need to show you and talk to you about. It will help with what's going on." You said, looking at Wednesday with a very hopeful look.
Wednesday sighed, and those eyes of yours always made her knees buckle. If you asked for the world, Wednesday would give it to you in a heartbeat. "Where are we going." Wednesday asked, pressing more questions. It's not like she was going to say no. "To the forest. There's a place that will find me some answers." You said, pointing to a faint mountain in the distance. "What's in it for me?" Wednesday asked, squinting her eyes as if it would make the mountain more visible.
"All of your questions will be answered." You said, looking at your phone with a shaky breath. "When you're ready to answer, you can call me." You said, quickly leaving the dorm with your phone at your ear. Wednesday sighed as she leaned against the balcony, why was Nevermore so stressful yet thrilling? Wednesday wasted no time and started to pack her bags. Enid only sat on her bed, watching Wednesday with worried look and an intense stare. "If you have the urge to say something, I suggest you say it." Wednesday said; where were her sharp knives? Had she put it under her mattress or in your guitar?
"Why are you doing this?" Enid said, a sudden boiling anger rising. "To find out what that thing was." Wednesday said; did she put the knives in her desk? "I know but-" Enid quickly took a sharp inhale, flaring her nostrils. "You could die, again." Enid said, she seemed to be trying to find a reason for Wednesday to stay. " I'm already dead inside, plus, not my first-time meeting death face to face." Wednesday said with a rather proud smirk on her face, but it quickly went away when she still couldn't find her knives. "You can't rely on Goody anymore Wednesday." Enid said, some tears brimming her eyes, but she quickly wiped them. "I never did in the first place." Wednesday replied sharply as she turned around to Enid with furrowed brows. "Have you seen my knives? The ones I usually take when I venture to the woods." Wednesday said with a slight smirk. "Have you been listening?" Enid said, quickly standing up and walking closer to Wednesday with a raised voice.
"I have been replying, have I not?" Wednesday as she walked closer as well. It felt like it was the first day all over again. Nostalgia. That's what Wednesday felt every time something similar from the past happens to her. Memories repeating themselves. "Look at what happened to Thing, you, me and Y/N! Actually, everyone has been hurt, some emotionally and some physically. Some even both!" Enid said, letting her tears fall down her cheek. Wednesday hated this, why was everyone crying today? First you, now Enid. She couldn't stand seeing her friends cry.
Friends. That's what you and Wednesday were, right? She already knew Enid and her had a sort of a bond. An unusual pair but a perfect one. Would that be the same for you and her? She hoped so, but she also hoped that you wouldn't get hurt on the way to find your 'answers'. Wednesday quickly looked back to Enid with reassuring eyes. "I promise nothing's going to happen to both me and Y/N." Wednesday said with a determined look in her eyes, yet Enid didn't feel that sure. "You pinky promise?" Enid asked, looking at Wednesday as if she would eat all her snacks.
"Cross my heart and hope to die. Now, have you seen my knives?" Wednesday asked, seemingly changing the subject. Enid quickly smiled and went under mattress to take out a box of knives before giving them to Wednesday. "You knew." Wednesday said with a slight smirk. Enid had bribed her into promising without Wednesday knowing. "Learnt from the best." Enid said as she winked at Wednesday before going back to her bed.
-
You stood at the gates of Nevermore with a scowl, waiting for a certain raven-haired girl. "Shall we go?" The devil herself said as she popped out of nowhere. You just nodded and opened the gate for her to walk out. The adventure shall begin! Both of you were holding flashlights while walking through the woods. The silence was rather loud, and Wednesday's thoughts were louder. "I suggest you speak; your brain needs to be intact when we get there." You said as you ducked under a tree branch. Wednesday huffed as she stepped over a rock.
"Will you tell me what that thing was?" Wednesday asked, her tone sort of irritated. "Do you know 'Red Blood'?" You asked as a wolf howled in the distance. "I'm not familiar with the name." Wednesday answered as she felt a drop of water fall on her nose. "Well, their an old mafia. Their name died millions of years ago when they used to be a tribe. They were defeated in a war against the 'Angels' as people call them." You said as you took a deep breath before talking again. "The wife in the Angel tribe was sick so they asked the 'Red Blood' for some supplies. They gave it to them but poisoned the food and medicine. The reason was unknown for years. The Angel tribe of course fought back and killed everyone, but they left one. A baby, they took him in, and he quickly became one of the best warriors of the Angel tribe." You paused to check if Wednesday was listening.
"He was the most handsome man, the richest, and had the most wives. Though one day, he got a mysterious scroll. It said all the things that happened during and before the war. Fueled by anger and sadness, he made a plan to kill everyone in the village. One night, he massacred all the guards, all of them having tears of betrayal on their faces while he did it. After that, he poured oil all over the village. Then with one torch, it was all up in flames." You finished, leading Wednesday to a near cabin as the rain fell on both of you.
"What happened after?" Wednesday asked, too intrigued. "I don't know, my mother never got to finish the story." You simply answered, earning a huff from the raven-haired girl. "Don't worry, my uncle should know it all." You said, slightly chuckling at Wednesday's small pout. "Are you mocking me?" She asked, with an unknown tone. "Calm your horses." You said as you took your keys out and unlocked the door with Wednesday rushing into the shelter. You chuckled lightly at the action and went inside yourself.
Once both of you got in, Wednesday almost gaped at the sight of numerous animals all around the cabin. "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you these are my friends." You said, gesturing to the animals who seemed to be playing a game of Uno.
"These are animals." Wednesday said, glancing at you with slight concern. "Well, I know, but....I can't really explain it." You slumped slightly. A squirrel went up your shoulder and seemed to whisper something to you.
'Is she your girlfriend?' It asked, making you blush slightly. You shook your head and whispered back. "Soon to be." The squirrel seemed to giggle in response. Wednesday roled her eyes at your behavior and dropped her bag on a bed.
"If I feel any of them touch me, I will not hesitate to skin them." Wednesday turned around and glared at them individually. Some shrieked, and some hid behind others. You chuckled nervously.
"You're joking, right?" You asked, yet Wednesday only glared at you. "Right....?" You asked again, chuckling nervously. Wednesday smirked before going to the restroom.
The animals glanced at you. "She's joking.......I think." You muttered the last part with an unsure tone. The animals shrieked when they heard the restroom door open and hid. You chuckled at their reaction and laid down on your bed.
"Sleep with one eye open." Wednesday clarified before laying on her bed like a corpse. You turned over and slept. Unaware that there were a pair of eyes watching the two.
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metalhoops · 2 years
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Steve and Eddie: Alternative ‘First’ meeting part 2.
Read Part 1 Here
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Eddie Munson never expected Steve to be his friend. He kept waiting for the former king to realise how different their two worlds were. When that day came, he hoped Steve could look back on his time spent with the strange Metalhead with affection.
Several months had passed since the two had their first encounter in the woods outside the trailer park, and he hadn’t scared Steve away yet. Eddie found the boy following at his side every other day when he wasn’t at work. He was loyal as a golden retriever and strangely, almost as happy. When he and Steve run into each other for the first time since Steve’s graduation, one thing was clear: Steve wasn’t happy. 
Now, most days, he appeared more happy than not. Yet, he was still distant. There were things he was keeping close to his chest, but Eddie didn’t feel like he was close enough to push. 
Eddie kept waiting for the moment he’d chase Steve away. He talked the guy’s ear off about Hellfire, now that the school year was back in full swing. They’d both agreed to keep Steve’s flock of wayward children in the dark about their friendship, lest they think Steve was using Eddie to keep an eye on them, ever the babysitter. Steve listened attentively. 
He invited Steve around to watch obscure B-grade, horror schlockfests. There was no way he enjoyed it, but Steve stayed. He jumped at all the right times and laughed at all the wrong ones, just like Eddie. Steve was too good to be true. One day, something had to give. 
When they drove together, Eddie played the music too loud and performed air guitar solos at stoplights. He’d even gone so far as to serenade Steve with KISS songs as the guy helped him put together a dinner that wasn’t from a microwave container. 
He’d expected Steve to roll his eyes and call him a nerd, which admittedly he did. However, right after, he’d equipped himself with a wooden spoon and performed an equally cheesy rendition of a Bob Seger song. 
Hell, once his parents were out of town and they’d stayed the night at Steve’s he’d shown Eddie his best impression of Tom Cruise in Risky Business, complete with high socks, a poorly buttoned button-down, and too-short, shorts. Eddie was so gone for Steve Harrington, and it was horrible because he knew something was going to go wrong.
He was sick of waiting for it to happen. The two had been friends for months, and Eddie was sick of holding his breath, with each passing day knowing that the hurt would be all the greater as his attachment to Steve grew. 
Steve’s parents were out of town, which always made for a more relaxed Steve. He’d invited Eddie to stay the night at his place for the first time. Eddie realised what had to happen next as Steve invited him to crash with him in his bed. 
This was the thing that would finally scare Steve away. This was the thing that would get Steve to finally give up his reformed jock status and call him a freak. He couldn’t share a bed with Steve without him knowing, it wasn’t fair. 
“I kinda like taking the side next to the door. You mind taking the window side?” Steve asked so casually it made Eddie’s heart ache. 
He found it hard to swallow as he bit the bullet and told Steve the thing he’d been dancing around for months. 
“I’m gay, Steve.” He wished he’d been more eloquent, but he hadn’t. He spoke to the shitty plaid wallpaper, his words running together. 
When he finally looked, he found Steve sitting on the bed, his wide eyes looking equal parts alarmed and confused. He wasn’t cursing at Eddie or chasing the guy out of his house, so far, it was going better than he’d expected. 
“Uh... thanks for telling me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you steal my side of the bed,” Steve finally replied. Eddie was goddamn floored. 
“You heard me, right?” Eddie repeated. There was no way in hell this wasn’t the thing that chased Steve away. 
“Roger Dodger. Loud and clear. You don’t like boobs,” Steve paraphrased as he wriggled under the covers. Eddie let out a sound between a snort and a sob because, holy shit, Steve didn’t care. He was also an absolute idiot, but that was expected.
“And you’re still cool with me sleeping with you?” Eddie asked. 
“I don’t like to sleep alone much, anymore,” Steve spoke with a vague shrug of his shoulders. There it was again, the uneasy sense he got that Steve wasn’t telling him something important. 
Eddie didn’t pry, because Steve hadn’t pushed when he’d just goddamn come out to him. Eddie slipped beneath the covers, closest to the window and lay beside Steve until the man fell asleep. Eddie couldn’t sleep, his head still reeling. 
After an hour, he felt Steve twitch at his side and mumble something incoherent. Eddie stayed still, thinking the moment would pass, quick and painless as a sun shower. Instead, Steve started to thrash. Eddie sat up in bed, flicked on the lights, and gazed down at the former king’s pinched brows. It was hard to believe this was the same boy who’d stalked the halls of Hawkins High, looking seemingly untouchable from Eddie’s ranks amongst the outcasts and common folk. 
“Stevie?” Eddie breathed, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder in an attempt to wake him. 
The other man’s body stilled beneath his hand, and his face remained contorted. In his sleep, he crept closer to Eddie, curling his body around him. He had no idea what the hell to do. Steve hating to sleep alone made more sense. 
“It’s okay, Harrington. I got you. You’re okay,” Eddie mumbled, taking a risk and leaning down to card his hands through the man’s hair. 
Eddie sat there for another half-hour, muttering quiet nothings until he stilled and slept peacefully. 
When morning finally came and the two found themselves dancing around each other in the Harrington’s oversized kitchen, Eddie decided to broach the subject. Steve kept setting off alarm bells in his head, and he had no idea how to quiet them on his own. 
“Steve, I know I’m a shitty listener because I love to hear the sound of my own voice, but you know, if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here, right?” 
Steve stepped back from the kitchen cabinet to get a better look at Eddie, his face the picture of conflict. He kept looking as though he were seconds from telling Eddie something before going dead quiet. Finally, he spoke.
“I don’t think I’m entirely straight.” 
That hadn’t been what he was fishing for, but holy shit. 
To make matters worse, Steve was sending him all the right goddamn cues. His eyes flickered to Eddie’s lips, then back to his face. He chewed on his bottom lip and ran his fingers through his carefully styled hair. Screw it. 
Eddie crossed the space between them and smash their lips together, pushing Steve’s back against the cabinet. It was a car crash kind of desperation. Limbs and lips everywhere. Steve ended up on the countertop, his legs wrapped around Eddie’s hips, hands in his hair. Eddie’s head was a chorus of holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. 
Eddie Munson never expected Steve to be his friend, but the one thing he’d never expected to ruin their friendship was a kiss. 
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yertle-the-turtle6678 · 5 months
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IM BACK AND I HAVE PERCIVER HEAD CANONS TO SHARE!!!
They meet in first year on the Hogwarts express. Percy's holding a giant book on third year divination. While this makes him a less attractive friend in the eyes of others', it's what brings Oliver Wood to the same train car as him. They introduce themselves and shake hands.
In second year, Oliver makes the Quidditch team as their keeper. Percy still spends the majority of his time indoors, but he goes to Ollie's practices and games every once in a while. After one specific game, Oliver comes back to the dorm with his breath cut short and with tears in his eyes. He stops breathing and the world goes spinning between each of his eyes; a panic attack, madame Pomphrey later describes it. The crowd triggered it.
Percy comforts him, sits on the same floor as him, rubbing the boy's back, repeating reassurance: "you're safe here,"
"You were good out there, really."
"I'll sit with you for as long as it takes."
Oliver comes to with his head on Percy's shoulder.
In third year, Percy goes to every practice and every game. He rubs Oliver's back when he returns to the dorm. When he loses for the first time, Percy has to chase him to stop him from running away, never to be found again.
"Hey, listen," Percy says, out of breath from the running. He doesn't understand how Oliver's barely breaking a sweat. "Tell me, okay? What went wrong out there?"
He gives Oliver a minute to pause and think.
Oliver gathers his thoughts and his breath. The sweat dripping down his neck fuels him, gives him energy. It clouds his head. He needs to calm down.
"I slipped on my broom." He says finally. "I wasn't planted on it properly."
"Good. What are you gonna do to fix it?" Percy replies, breathing better.
"I'll improve my grip."
"Good."
The two of them stand there, just breathing.
"Thanks."
In fourth year, they have the Yule Ball. Both of them are fifteen. Their year mates are out and about minging, asking each other out. The two of them stay where they are. They don't speak of the ball.
They go to the dance together, as friends of course. Percy keeps adjusting the collar to his hand-me-down dress robes. Oliver assures him that his attire is charming.
He sighs.
"If you had to wear these, I guarantee you'd understand me." Percy says. Over the summer his voice has changed. It's deeper and richer. Oliver loves it. Wishes he could taste it. Wishes these thoughts would go away. He grins and laughs Percy off.
When it's time to dance, they run away to a balcony that Percy didn't even know existed. They laugh and chat, making jokes at the dancers' expenses. Percy's had a bit to drink, (had he known the punch was alcoholic, he wouldn't have gone near it) and his face is flushed deep red.
"AND- and then when the-" he howls laughter. Oliver has to stop him from falling over himself.
Oliver thinks... He can't think at all. Suddenly. The two of them are so close together. He's got his arm around Percy's back and Percy's leaning against him, hands on Oliver's chest, still laughing. When he stops and catches his breath, though, the two of them seem to freeze. Oliver's heart skips a beat when he can physically feel Percy tensing up.
He kisses him.
Very awkwardly.
He made little action with his lips, just gently brushing his against the other boy's. The boy in question grins. Now it's Oliver's turn to flush deep red.
"ha-HA! No, wait, no, Oliver, wait."
Percy pulls Oliver back towards him by the arm. They're tangled with each other again, Oliver giving in to the urge to smile, just a bit, even after being embarrassed.
They kiss. Properly this time. It's the best thing Oliver's felt in his life. When they pull away, he whispers,
"Are you my boyfriend now?"
Percy smiles.
"Yes."
In fifth year, nightmares attack. O.W.Ls. Percy never sleeps anymore.
Oliver has to drag him away from his work table and force him onto his bed. When that bed later becomes repurposed for more studies, Oliver forces him onto his own bed. They sleep together and their dorm mates start getting suspicious.
Oliver sleeps in pajama bottoms and nothing else. Percy sleeps in a sweater and boxers. They spoon and Oliver rests his arm in front of Percy's only exit to stop him from crawling out of bed to study. Little does he know, Percy would never dare leave.
During the waking hours, Oliver drags Percy to other important places, such as breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The outdoors. Interaction with other human beings. It's a tough life out here for him.
When the exams finally start approaching, they do not stop making out. It's the only thing that gets Percy's mind off things. Only because there's nothing more distracting than Oliver's mouth.
To his own surprise and nobody else's, Percy passes his O.W.Ls with flying colours. Oliver passes alright despite not studying.
In sixth year it's the same for their N.E.W.Ts.
Something changes in the relationship between Percy and the rest of the student body, especially the girls. Oliver knows he's gotten taller. And his freckles have cleared enough for his gorgeous face to be visible. His voice is still as beautiful as it was in fourth year. He's started rolling up the sleeves of his sweaters, and the halls seem to swoon rapidly when they spot his forearms. Oliver always knew that Percy could have this power over people; he'd been subject to it himself. But it annoys him. And what's even worse is that Percy doesnt seem to notice when he's being flirted with.
He gets into the habit of writing on Oliver with pens, a strange Muggle device that's actually pretty nifty. Some mornings, Oliver wakes up with markings he doesn't even remember. Percy writes on his chest a lot. Draws on his collarbone. The most repeated word is Percy's name.
Oliver looks in the mirror one day, at his shirtless body.
PROPERTY OF PERCIVAL IGNATIUS WEASLEY
It says this all over his torso.
He grins. No one's stealing Percy from him anytime soon.
They pass their N.E.W.Ts.
The Summer Before Seventh Year
France is a gorgeous place, Oliver realises. Filled with gorgeous girls, too. He's lounging at the beach when one of them asks him out. He's put on the spot and exposed, wearing nothing but his swimming shorts and sunglasses. He fumbles over his words.
"Err, I mean, no..." The girl frowns. She has gorgeous eyes. "I mean, yes, sure. Is Friday at 7 PM okay with you?"
It doesn't even occur to him that she's a Muggle.
Immediately after he's uttered these words, he regrets it. But he can't stand her up. And she's already walking away. Merlin, Percy's gonna kill him.
It's just one date and Oliver doesn't even enjoy. They don't touch each other at all; they don't even hold hands. But Oliver knows what he's done, and he knows what he has to do.
He writes a letter.
I love you. I'm sorry. I couldn't live with myself if I kept it secret.
He sends it away with his black owl.
At the Burrow, Percy receives two letters back to back on his birthday. The first is from Hogwarts, confirmation that he's this year's Head Boy. He jumps around the kitchen, all dignity forgotten, and hugs his mother with an enormous grin on his face.
The second is from Oliver.
How quickly Percy's face turns sour. Mrs Weasley asks if he's okay.
Tears sting his eyes. Outside, he tells his mother everything.
One day before the start of the school year, the Weasley's are staying at the Leakey Cauldron overnight. Percy hears pebbles being thrown at his window and goes to see who it is.
Oliver Wood. Merlin.
Percy goes downstairs, striding towards his partner. Punches him in the face and immediately feels bad, but doesn't let that stop him. His voice is somewhere between a whisper and a yell and a sob,
"How could you?"
"I'm so sorry, Percy."
"Why did you do it?"
"We didn't do anything. Didn't touch her. I remember what you wrote on me."
Percy breathes in deep.
"I wasn't talking about just your body, Oliver. I was talking about you. All of you." He exhales, trying to hold himself together.
"I wouldn't think twice about rejecting some Muggle girl for you. You think I didn't notice when the whole female population at school suddenly wanted to date me? Just because of my body? I resisted them for you, Oliver. Because I love you. Why couldn't you do that for me?"
"I don't know. I'm so, so sorry."
They decide to take a break from their relationship. When they start attending school again, their dorm mates wonder why they've stopped sleeping together.
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yuwuta · 3 months
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I LOVE UR BRAIN SO BAD 😭😭😭 YOU ALWAYS POST THEBBEST HEADCANONS AND THOUGHTS LIKE. WORK HUSBAND GOJO. AND JUST HAVING A WHOLE IMAGINATION OF THE OFFICE W NANAMI AND HIGURUMA AND TOJI I?????? I WANT TO LIVE IN YOUR BRAIN
TEEHEEEE you’re so sweet <33333 the work husband to actual husband to househusband gojo pipeline is so so real to me and the office au that comes with it truly does take up space in my brain, so here’s some more loosely established points 
satoru has been your work husband since you got your first job in undergrad. you two met in your dorms, and became friends, and eventually you thought a job would help with your time management skills, so you got a very low-maintenance position at the front desk of the library. satoru applied right after you and schmoozed the two little old librarians into giving him the same shifts as you. that was probably the first moment satoru knew he was a little bit in love with you—because he had no reason to have a job while in school, but this small change in your schedule made him miss you so much that he was moved to get his very first job, probably ever, just to spend more time with you. 
he wasn’t bad at his library receptionist job, but he technically wasn’t good at it, either. if a student asked him for a laptop charger or to check out a book or something, he could do that, but anything else he’d just smile and say, “oh, you’ve gotta ask the pretty girl right there about that, she knows way more than me,” and bat his eyelashes at you. except, then, when you did need to get up to grab something for someone, satoru would just spring up instead, and tell you he’s got it. it’s like… he was incapable of helping anybody else unless he got to flirt with you, and then help you out to help them out……… strange boy 
anyways, satoru makes it a habit to assist you through your student jobs throughout undergrad, and then follows you to the same law school and repeats the process there. (also not to elle woods-ify him a bit but his father heavily questions him going to law school btw because satoru has never showed any interest in working, let alone following in his footsteps to be a lawyer, and now he’s going to law school? his mom is a bit sharper though, because when satoru tells his parents he’s going to the same law school as you, she just smiles and sips her tea and wonders if her son has already made a trip to their family jeweler). 
the firm is large, but the floor you work on is a pretty close knit group. there’s hiromi’s office at the tail end, which is the largest because he’s managing partner and he practically lives in there. on the other end, both you and nanami have decently sized offices. satoru doesn’t like hiromi at first because he thinks he’s mean. then satoru watches him play a little prank on kento, and suddenly the two of them are best friends. it would be a surprisingly wholesome friendship if their common denominator wasn’t irritating kento, and acting as guard dogs for you. 
kento’s office used to be just the bare necessities—law books, his degree, basic furniture, maybe a fancy paperweight, until satoru got his hands on it and decked it out. which is not something kento asked for, nor he thinks is necessary, but that doesn’t stop satoru from continually adding little trinkets and decorations and art to his office to make it livelier. when kento first meets you, he’s surprised when you tell him satoru gojo is going to be your secretary because kento interned for satoru’s father for two summers during law school, but when kento sees you and satoru together for the first time, it answers all of his questions. satoru couldn’t be more of a lovesick fool if he tried. 
listen the ex-convict to single father to janitor to lawyer toji pipeline is so real to me. while toji is working as a janitor at the firm, satoru slips once and then jokes that toji shines the floors too aggressively on purpose to make him slip, toji tells him to fuck off and he can sue for harassment. they truly don’t like each other at first, but once satoru steals toji’s masterkey to get into your office one night after you’re gone to leave flowers, and handle some paperwork to lighten your load in the morning, toji is sort of impressed. he still almost hits him with a broomstick, but even someone as gruff as him can see that satoru had pure intentions. toji is a lot of things, but he’s not immune to or devoid of love or passion. so, eventually he and satoru develop a weird sort of banter and respect for each other. one day someone actually tries to accuse toji of not putting the wet floor sign down and how it’s gonna be a lawsuit because some lowlife janitor fucked up his $3000 suit. satoru catches the argument as he’s heading upstairs and recognized the schmuck as the stuck up lawyer on the other side of kento’s case. satoru’s ready to jump in, but toji’s displaying an impressive amount of physical restraint and legal knowledge that when the dust is all settled, satoru asks him if he ever considered being a lawyer. toji laughs at it at first, but after a month of serious consideration (and megumi becoming a college freshman), he figures it can’t be all that bad. and turns out, toji’s a half-decent lawyer—once you’ve spent so much of your life skirting (or blatantly breaking) the law, you become pretty good at getting people out or around it, too. and with his life experience, he’s a pretty good judge of character; so when it comes time to lock up the bad ones, toji makes sure they get the maximum sentence.
except he has a bad habit of sending out emails with “URGENT: NEEDS ATTN” in the subject, which prompts you, kento, and hiromi to rush to his office, just to see toji with his feet up on his desk tell you that, “the emergency is i hate the opposing counsel, and now that i work on this side of the law i’d really like to not kill him, so somebody else should take this case.” 
anyways back to work husband secretary satoru. he pulls you out of boring meetings under the guise of an urgency, just for him to admit that the emergency is that he missed you, and you two were gonna be late for your lunch reservation. because he’s actually a licensed attorney, he can actually carry out duties an associate otherwise would, which saves you a lot of time and trouble; and it means that satoru gets to work even more closely with you, which is always an upside for him. sometimes you ask him to hand you documents and instead he just hands you his hand. and then pretends to blush and preen like a schoolgirl which always draws way too much attention to the two of you, but there’s no way to stop him either. he takes your coat off of your shoulders when you arrive in the morning, and helps you put it back on in the evening. when you tell him you’re looking for an apartment closer to the firm, he has eight places lined up for viewing, and one surprise at the end which happens to be the other vacant penthouse suite in his apartment building; which, conveniently, would make you satoru’s neighbor. he claims that it’ll be just like in college, but it certainly doesn’t feel that way when you finally move in and satoru can now loudly and proudly proclaim, “see you at home!” in the halls at work now. 
#answered#that was a lot..... sorry this universe is so vivid to me#maybe i should rewatch suits..............#tho the first time you actually go on A Date with a real dude nothing work related satoru crumbles#he's so quiet at work for the entire day everyone thinks he must be sick or something#the day after your date he's sort of back to normal but something is off.... you don't bring up the date tho so he takes that a good sign#for him at least bc if u have nothing to say u must not have found him all that interesting righ t#but then you briefly mention a second date and now satoru has to get serious#and by serious i mean dig up everything there is to possibly dig up on this guy#way past public records he's calling favors as the DA's office he's calling his dad he's calling moles in the police. if this dude is gonna#be serious about you then he better be squeaky clean#except satoru 100% gets caught by kento who tells him that he needs to stop digging up dirt on ur date#which makes satoru pout and whine but whatever he'll drop it (only bc kento reminds him that if You find out ur gonna be Pissed)#then he really goes back to being himself but 10x#arm around your shoulder driving you everywhere himself introducing himself to ur date with the most smug grin on his face#it doesnt take long for this guy to get uncomfortable/ask you whats up with you and satoru and in the end satoru drives him away anyway#he might not be able to confess to you but he sure can keep everybody else away#besides theres only so many hours in the day u should focus on the important things: him and work 😇#jjk x reader#satoru x reader#lawyer au#satoru.ask
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spinster-sisters · 10 months
Text
Reality p.sh
Pt3 of Expectations
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pt.1 pt.2 (these are 6k and 8k wc respectively but you very much need to read them to get what’s going on here, sorry)
TW: All the usual mafia au warnings apply here (descriptions of guns violence and torture), afab reader, oral (fem receiving), piv, unprotected sex, breeding as a kink with repercussions, the miscommunication in this deserves its own warning
WC: 23k
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“You want me to do what?” Seonghwa asks, looking up from his papers in disbelief.
You stood leaning against his mahogany desk, hand on his shoulder running your finger across his tailored suit jacket. You had been preparing for this request from first thing this morning. You had wrapped your arms around his waist when he sat up from bed and pulled him back into your embrace, in a sweet, tiered voice you asked him to stay in bed with you. He chuckled and shook his head, rolling his shoulders to rid the sleep from his body before breaking your grasp gently, laying your arms back down with a smile before standing from the bed.
When he was getting into his car you stood by the driver's side door, taking special care to wish him a good day at work with a sweet smile, you had felt a bit silly doing it considering what his work was, but you still meant it. He had reciprocated your smile with a knowing look.
He slid into the driver's seat of his sleek black car. Although it was nothing flashy, you knew just the bulletproof glass on the car was expensive, not to mention every other modification that had been made to suit your lifestyle. Your arm hung over the door as you leaned down to kiss his cheek, you had let the deep v in your sweater do its work and of course, you noticed his eyes glance down and then away, trying to mask a smirk.
And now, as you stood pressed against his side in nothing but a silk robe with his initials sewn into the lapel, stroking your fingers down his chest. And he had the audacity to look unimpressed.
“I want you to teach me how to shoot.” You repeated, crossing your arms in front of your chest, unhappy with his reaction. Your eyes flick to the silver gun on the far edge of his desk.
Seonghwa’s head fell into his hand as he rubbed his brow bone.
“Where oh where did you get the idea that you need to know how to shoot a gun.” he asked in exasperation. You huffed, lifting yourself to sit on the edge of his desk, the cold wood pressing into your skin.
“Do I need to spell it out for you?” You shot back, crossing your legs with a flare. Seonghwa leaned back into his chair and peered at you.
“Clearly.” He replied incredulously, lifting his arms inches into the air before dropping them back onto the armrest. You huff in disbelief, giving him an equally stern look and sitting up straight.
“In case you forgot, I am married to a mob underboss. The fact I can’t shoot a gun is a liability,” But as you spoke you noticed you we’re losing Seonghwa’s attention.
He couldn’t help it, his eyes dragged up the exposed flesh of your thigh, noticing for the first time that you were practically naked in front of him. That had been the intention, but he certainly chose his moment poorly.
You rolled your eyes at him and snapped your fingers in front of his face. His eyes shot up to meet yours with a wolfish smirk.
Seonghwa reached out and ran a hand up your leg practically to your core. Your thighs clench instinctively as heat shot between your legs; his hand was momentarily trapped between your thighs before you swatted it away.
“What? You come in here practically on display and expect me not to touch?” He grins. You frown at him.
“Not when my husband should be listening to what his wife is trying to tell him.” You humph at him.
“I was listening, and my answer hasn’t changed. You don’t need to know; they will never get close enough for you to need it.” He says definitively, taking hold of the ankle crossed over the other and lifting back across. You can feel yourself getting turned on, it’s inevitable with a man who looks like him, dark and handsome and a silver tongue, you were destined to lose this battle. His hands have already been all over your skin and it is having its desired effect. But you are determined to hear a yes before you submit.
“Oh, come on, pretty please?” You ask with a playful pout, playing into dynamic hoping to pull the right thread that will loosen his will. Leaning back with your hands on the wood behind you as the silk robe slips ever so slightly, keeping you covered but only just.  His eyes are trained on your soft skin, you can practically see the desire burning in his eyes as his mind examines every inch of your flushed body, almost as if committing it the moment to memory. Even more so when you arch your back ever so slightly, pushing out your chest.
His hands takes hold of your knees, he looks up at you with a challenging smirk as he begins to spread your legs. He’s looking into your eyes, and he pushes them further apart you feel your breath catch in your throat, if he were to look down now there is no doubt he would see wetness pooling between your thighs at his firm grip. You’re almost completely exposed when he replies.
“I believe I have already told you no.” He says, slicing the tension in the air.
He doesn’t have the chance to gloat. You scoff at him, snapping your knees shut and crossing your arms. It took all your resolve not to give in to him, but you had a plan to stick to.
“Then you don’t get to touch.” You shoot back, already sliding off his desk. Seonghwa sits genuinely stunned for several seconds before shooting up after you. Your hand is on the doorknob when he catches you. He reaches out as you are opening it and slams the door closed again.
Coming up behind you he wraps his free arm around our middle before pushing you against the door from behind. You gasp, feeling him pressed into your back and his length pushing into the flesh of your ass.
“Where do you think you’re going darling,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear. The resurgence of an old nickname is enough to have your insides fluttering. His hand from the door lands comfortably on your waist.
“Away from you, if you can’t be reasonable, too bad.” You shrug and tsk at him but stay put in his arms, it’s not like you have much room for movement anyway. You can hear the cogs turning in his head, but you can feel his erection pressing hard into your body. You wonder which one he will listen to.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” He suddenly gets very serious, and you know he wants a serious answer. You take a deep breath, as you inhale you feel your body possibly even further into the sturdiness of his own.
“Yes, I want to learn.” You reply resolutely. Seonghwa takes a deep breath, leaning into your nape, kissing it gingerly, before stroking a hand down your spine. If you hadn't been hanging on to his every word you would have missed it.
"Fine," he grumbled, speaking directly into your skin.
“You’re all mine now, darling.” He growls and you feel it rumbling in his chest against your back. Your breath hitches. A moment later his hand grasping the swell of your butt, squeezing the flesh, you let out a squeal only for his hand to come down hard in a slap against your ass. The whine you let out is something pitiful, your core is alight again the pain had only served to fuel the aching in your cunt.
“Seonghwa-“you plead in a high tone, he lets out another running rumbling grunt. His right-hand slides from your waist slowly to the opening of your robe. His touch feels like fire as it travels across your body till he unties the ribbon. As the thin fabric falls open, Seonghwa’s left-hand pushes you to bend forward against the door before moving around to grope at your chest. Your breathing comes in hics. Seemingly at every second Seonghwa discovers a new way of toying with your body, setting it alight.
His hand travels down, between your legs, before strong fingers are cupping your heat. You gasp, as he holds your cunt in his hand, sliding his slim fingers through your folds. Wet noises can be heard even to you.
“Your so wet, look at you acting all big and tough, when you can’t even handle my touch without your cunt getting all drenched.” Seonghwa’s voice ripples through you, every word making you clench just as much as his fingers playing with you. You can’t help but blindly agree, nodding your head in ascent.
“I shouldn’t even be touching you with how demanding your being.” He chides into your ear, his fingers momentarily stopping their assault.
Your head whips around.
“No, no, no!” You beg, your hips bucking into his unmoving palm. Seonghwa grins devilishly down at you.
“What are those words you used earlier? I liked the way they sounded coming from your lips.” He gloated.
“Pretty please?” You pleaded, giving him big wide eyes over your shoulder.
Satisfaction filled his features. Seonghwa pulled you from the door by the waist. Turning you around and pushing you the way back to his desk. Sitting back in his chair he maneuvered you onto your previous spot again, only this time he took hold of your waist and pulled you forward till you practically fell off the edge. He leaned back in his chair and admired your debauched state.
Your robe fell open from your shoulders, your breath was heavily with anticipation, and as he pried your knees open again your glistening pussy was all on display for him.
He groaned at the sight.
You whined again.
“Seonghwa! I said please! Won’t you touch me?” You begged. He stuck you with a hard gaze.
“When did you get so spoiled.” As he spoke, he stood, pushing his chair back and standing between your spread legs. His hand on your knee once again slid down your leg but instead of touching where you oh so desperately wanted him he used it to spread your legs even further and hold them there.
“I suppose that’s my own fault. I took a sweet girl and spoiled her rotten.” He tutted at you, using his free hand to take hold of your chin keeping your eyes on his face as your head so desperately tried to look away in embarrassment.
“How could I not, when you’re so pretty.” He sighed. As though giving into his own musings Seonghwa’s hand slid back down to run against your cunt. The reaction was immediate. Your head has it not been for the steady grip on your jaw would have flung back in ecstasy. As though to make up for lost time one finger found your clit and began rubbing tight little circles into the bundle of nerves. If felt remarkably unfair how quickly he had unraveled you, with so little actual touch.
Seonghwa focused all his attention on your face, keeping your head in place to watch every expression and noise in detail with a satisfied grin. Your clit had grown swollen quickly and every round made your leg twitch against his side.  You were already feeling yourself getting extremely hot, like he had lit a fire inside you with your own nerves as kindling.
Seonghwa got to enjoy the sight of you twitching and panting, a bead of sweat forming on your chest.
Seonghwa groaned again. His hand falls away from your core, bringing your simultaneous relief and torture at the lack of touch. His hands fell to cage you down against the desk as he leaned in close. His lips crashed onto yours in an incredibly messy kiss, groaning with every swipe of his tongue past your lips only for it to fall just as suddenly. He stared into your face with what can only be described as reverence.
“I can’t be mean to you even if I want to. Not when your so darling,” He almost sighs the words at you, giving you whiplash from the harshness you saw only moments ago. As the sentence concluded Seonghwa drops to his knees, looking up at you like a starved man. Your legs are still spread wide and that is all the invitation he needs before diving into your cunt.
You don’t even have time to properly moan before your breath is stolen entirely. Seonghwa is lapping at your whole cunt like he hasn’t eaten in days. His long tongue worked it’s way across every inch of slick. Several full stripes across the entirety before spreading your folds and working his way to your still leaking slit.
Your clit, still swollen and sensitive is sending shock after shock up your body every time he brushes against it. Seonghwa claps the bud between his lips and sucks at it with delicious pressure that makes you squeal and reach for his dark hair. Yanking at the roots as he releases the nub with a wet pop.
Allowing himself a moment to breathe he looks up at you. You yourself are completely ruined. Your voice has been lost save for the occasional squeak or whine and it is all you can do to stay sitting up after that.
Seonghwa grins at you “You taste so delicious, darling” he practically giggles at you. You think for a moment you can catch your breath, but Seonghwa doesn’t allow you the relief.
In an instant, his mouth is back on your cunt. With his tongue now prodding your entrance, dipping into it in search of more slick. His tongue is darting in and out sliding quickly inside only for more arousal to fall into his lips. Your hips can’t help but buck in time with his actions.
“Seonghwa,” you whine. He only groans in response. The vibrations travel up inside you, sending you over the edge in ecstasy. Heat pools in your core and travels like waves through your limbs. Your mouth is hung open in an “o” as you helplessly twitch against his still moving mouth.
Seonghwa loved to please, but sometimes he enjoyed it a bit too much. The pleasure pulsing in your core had suddenly turned to burning pain with every brush of his lips.
“Seonghwa! Wait-“you gasped, pulling at his hair. He did not pull away. Speaking his next words directly into your core.
“Just a little more, you’ll love it. Just give me a little more.”
Your body thrashed against his hold; every shot of pain layered with burning pleasure enough to make you whimper.
“Please, please!” Your voice was little more than a gasp, but he heard your over the sopping noises coming from your pussy.
“Almost there darling, you can give me another.” He groans into you.
His mouth is moving much lighter against you than before, yet the sensations are just as hard to deal with, somehow you feel heat building and building even quicker than before. You’re tugging helplessly against your husband’s hair, but when he returns to suck on your clit your orgasm washes over you like a wave. Your arms holding yourself up fail and you let yourself fall back against the cold wooden desk as your body rides along with explosive pleasure.
When you come back to your senses Seonghwa is leaning against your thigh with a satisfied grin. As you slowly pick yourself up you watch as he leans in to press a gentle kiss against your core before pulling away. His face is glistening with your arousal and his hair is in disarray after your grip, but he has never looked so pleased.
Seonghwa grins, his eyes glaze over slightly, his eyes are dark yet glassy as they trail over your messy state, but the goofy grin stays. He leans down to kiss the corner of your lips. You can only give him a questioning look, still panting from your high.
“I know I just put you through quite a bit. But I think after all that I deserve to fuck you as well.” He continues, kissing gently against the other side of your lips. Your eyes are tiered, but you can’t deny, the thought of him filling you up is already enough to have your insides stirring again.
“Will you promise to be gentle with me? Im a bit-” you start, gripping the collar of his shirt.
“Sensitive?" he cuts in, his voice teasing. "Of Course,” He promises, but his grin is starting to look less goofy and more wolfish.
You nod your head in ascent. Seonghwa takes your body and helps you turn around, bending you over the edge of the desk. From this angle you can’t see him, but you can hear the distinct sounds of him undoing his belt.
You feel him smooth a hand down your back like he is petting a cat, calming your tense body. When you feel him prod at your entrance you can’t help but wince, but as he slowly pushes all the way inside you, you can feel your body tingle in excitement at how deep he fills you up.
Your body is practically humming as you arch your back, signaling him to give you a deep thrust. Your body flusters around him as he pushes in and out and you moan each time he fills you up again. Seonghwa finds the perfect pace, he’s fucking you deep, but he’s going at such a speed and is holding your body so tenderly around your waist the pain of overstimulation is nothing but an afterthought.
Each push of his hips pushes you further up on the desk and each time Seonghwa pulls your body back down to meet them. Shooting pleasure runs through you every time he rubs against your walls.
“See? Don’t you see how well you’re doing darling? You’re taking me so well.” Seonghwa coos at you. You murmur ascents, too focused on the way he stretches you out, feeling him pulsing inside you. You’re growing louder with every moan or whimper. You can’t help it, not when he lifts your hips ever so slightly allowing him a better angle to push against your most sensitive spots and thrust even deeper.
“You know if I cum in you this deep I’ll probably get you pregnant.” He groans. These words shock you, but it is nothing compared to how they make you clench around him. Seonghwa lets out his own moan at that.
“Oh? You like that? You like the idea of getting knocked up?” Seonghwa laughs through his panting.
“Yes- “you all but whimper, letting him maneuver your hips exactly how he wants. After this discovery every thrust is delivered with greater force, knocking the wind from you, and shooting more pleasure into your core.
“I think you would look pretty like that-" he starts but his eyes screw shut and he lets out a rumbling groan as his hip meets your's. His hand and gripping your hips so tight, using them as leverage to get just that little bit deeper.
You couldn’t tell who was more affected by his words as you both fell apart at them. Just before you lost yourself to your third orgasm you felt Seonghwa spill his cum inside you only adding to your feeling of fullness. At that, your brain stopped working.
It was the most intense orgasm you could remember, your brain all but mush as your body rode and rode out the waves of white hot pleasure. If your eyes were open, they were not seeing. If your mouth was open, it was making noises too obscene to be remembered.
But when it came to an end you felt your doting husband tying the robe around you again and gently lifting you off the desk. Your arms absently latched around his neck, and he chuckled at your attempt.
As you ascended the stairs and entered your bedroom you whined desperately when he walked straight past your bed.
“Darling, I love you so much, but I will not let you into my fresh sheets this sticky.”
You swatted his chest but to no avail, the dreaded bath before bed. You had not the faintest hope of staying awake.
-
The next morning you woke up far later than usual. Guessing by the way the sunlight was streaming in through the window, it was probably already around or after noon.
With a groan, you pulled the covers off yourself to get some breakfast. As soon as your feet are planted on the floor and tried to pull yourself to your feet you realize you have an issue.
You are incredibly sore. Seonghwa was already away at work, the trek down the stairs and to the kitchen would be a painful one, as you could feel the slight ache in your muscles restricting you. As you observe yourself in the mirror you see faint shapes of Seonghwa’s palms across your hips. You had half a mind to think ‘Gentle my ass’ but then again last night really had gotten a bit, intense?
Oh. That. You flushed at the thought of the words that had brought you to pieces the previous night. You had never even thought to discuss that before. Did Seonghwa actually want kids? Was that his weird way of telling you? Did you even want kids?
The distinct noise of something in coming from downstairs broke you from this derailed train of thought. And it made your blood run cold. The door to the landing was cracked just enough that you could slip through. You looked around for your phone to call for help only to remember with another pang of terror that you had left it in the kitchen the previous night before visiting your hubsand's office.
With no other choice than to descend the stairs on your wobbly legs, you did so, holding your breath, trying not to make a sound. The trek down was gut wrenching, but nothing like the last corner to the kitchen. As you braced yourself for all kinds of horror you turned into the room only to see! Seonghwa?
“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!” You called to him, where he sat peacefully eating. You startled him enough to make him drop his fork but he could not stop himself from chuckling at you.
“What are you even doing here?” You asked, exasperated, and leaning against the archway. Seonghwa looked, his eyes wide and slightly confused as though it were obvious as though it were obvious.
“Eating?”
“No, I mean why are you still at the house" you question. Still reeling from sudden fear to sudden relief. You could still feel your heart in your ribcage pounding away.
“Oh, I have decided to take the day off.” He replies, turning back to his food, his usually sicked back hair falling in his eyes as. You raise a brow at him.
“Taking a day off?” You ask, crossing your arms starting to grow in disbelief. Seonghwa nods, taking another bite.
“In the 2 years we have been married you have never once taken a day off.” You reply.
“First time for everything,” he shoots back cheerfully, finishing the last of his food.
“Do you always wake up this late?” He asks while clearing his plate, giving you a once over. Then a look of realization and a smirk, noticing the way you are leaning heavily against the archway as well as the visible marks on your hips. The tank top was doing little to cover them.
“Or only when I fuck you too good.” He asks, crossing the room, standing at your feet, with that grin resurfacing from last night. You shush him, swatting his chest so slightly that your hand just lands on his shoulder instead, feeling the material of his sweater. He's dressed casual today.
“You are too satisfied with yourself,” you shoot back, smoothing the wrinkles in his rarely-seen sweater. Unlike your husband, you have no real reason to put on clothes every day, so his comment wasn't entirely false. You could sleep till what ever hour you liked most days.
In the earlier days of your marriage, before the dissent from your men began a few months back, you used to fill your days as best you could. Having your husband opened doors and there wasn't anything the city had to offer you could not occupy yourself with, and you'd even made friends with some of the neighbors. But since the dissent, you've been under 'house arrest.' You remember how it drove you mad being cooped up here with no information, like the world's most expensive padded prison.
With the promise from Seonghwa that as soon as the threat was neutralized he would let you roam during his busy days and nights, but until then he would keep you safe and secure in his house, protected by his men, all the time. You wondered at the amount of Ateez's resources going into keeping you safe. You couldn't rationalize it all being worth it.
“Are you going to need me to carry you to the car?” He asks with a grin, leaning down to meet your eye level, breaking you from your thoughts with his dark eyes and barely arched eyebrow.
“Why am I going to the car?”
“I’m teaching you to shoot today.” He states as though this were obvious, straightening back up to his full height.
“Oh wait, so you’re ok with that?” You asked incredulously.
“We made a deal, didn’t we?” He asks with a tilt of the head. You simply stare at him and after a moment you blink.
“Well, I mean, I just thought since you were so against it you were just gonna- “you trailed off. Seonghwa chuckled again.
“You mean I could have bent you over my desk without agreeing to teach you shoot?” he asks in mock surprise, his eyes widening comically and his eyebrow shooting up, for a finishing touch he places his hand cupping his his cheek and lets his mouth hang open in surprise. You only stare in bewilderment and you can help but laugh.
“Go get dressed, I’m not doing this anywhere where you can shoot something I own.”
-
“Seonghwa are you sure she’s never shot a gun?” Yeosang questions from his place sitting on the hood of his car. His mild voice carried in the empty shipyard you find yourself in.
Another shot rings out and another metal can topples to the ground with a crash. The force of the shot pushes you backward into your husband's chest. Despite his steady grip on you you still stumble forcefully backwards. Seonghwa stabilizes you, then sighs.
“Being a good shot doesn’t matter if you can’t shoot without falling on your ass,” Seonghwa grumbles.
Despite his tone, you are more than pleased with your performance so far. You weren’t a perfect marksman, not by a long shot, but you managed to knock one of the empty cans from the roof of the abandoned cars yards away on only your third attempt. Yeosang had let out a long whistle, but Seonghwa still seemed dispirited.
“I think I’m doing a good job,” you mumble in return, lowering the weapon to point it at the ground. Despite having never shot a gun before today, your father had taught you proper gun safety ever since you were a child. Every person in your life always had one on them even back then, it was better to be safe than sorry.
“If it’s just a problem with the kickback, then the more she uses it the more she will get used to it.” Yeosang reasons. You turn your head to face Seonghwa, his features are set in a frown. When he meets your gaze, his free hand shoots up and takes your jaw to turn your head back down the abandoned ally Seonghwa brought you too.
“Yeosang I would prefer if she didn’t have the chance to get used to it,” Seonghwa sighed in exasperation before leaning into your ear “Go on, take another shot. Try to keep your feet planted.” He instructs quietly in your ear, his breath tickling your ear. You sigh, lifting the firearm. You take a deep breath, trying to root your feet in the ground. You line up the shot and,
Bang. Your arm is flung back and your shoulder pops painfully. You groan, clutching your damaged shoulder with your free hand and lower the weapon. You can practically feel Seonghwa tsking at you.
“At least she did fall over that time.” Yeosang interjects. Seonghwa scoffs at his companion. Taking the handgun from your grip and sliding it into his holster.
“Yeah, instead she let her shoulder take the full force of the shot, that’s not any better.” Seonghwa shoots back. You’re too busy groaning over your arm to bother with their bickering, instead you wander over to the hood and sit next to Yeosang with a huff. Seonghwa watches on as you cradle your shoulder with a sour look on his face.
“How did you get him to agree to this in the first place?” Yeosang mumbles into your ear. You turn your head and watch as Seonghwa moves down the alley to collect the cans, bottles, and other target practices junk. You didn’t often divulge details of your relationship to the other members of Ateez and you couldn’t imagine Seonghwa talking about you to them. You smirked knowingly but said nothing as you watched your husband’s back.
“Did it have something to do with how you’re walking funny.”
Your head whipped to the man at your side. Once again, the members of Ateez were not necessarily privy to all the details of your relationship and honestly, they never had spent enough time around you to be close to you, so Yeosangs comment took you by surprise.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, feigning casualty. Yeosang, only peered at you looking down at you with a raised brow. He didn’t speak but you felt his disbelief in his stare. The man rolled his eyes, turning his head to watch Seonghwa as he began sauntering back in your direction, target practice in hand. Yeosang was silent for another moment before speaking quietly,
“Seonghwa’s not happy about this, not just teaching you to shoot he hates all of it. He hates the whole damn thing. Marrying you wasn't supposed to cause this many problems." The man's tone was unexpectedly cruel, the final words came out with so much heat it almost came across as antagonized. Like they had personally offended him. You couldn't help but take offense, as they were necessarily directed at you, you weren't the one leading the dissenting group, but you still felt responsible for obvious reasons. Before you had the chance to react to the words just shot in your direction Seonghwa approached, gun holstered, he tossed the cans and bottles into a rusted silver garbage can that lay forgotten on the pier.
Seonghwa stayed lost in thought, staring at the silver can for another moment before turning on his heel to face you both. His face was a mask of nothing, no emotion clouded his features. But you could tell it was a mask just by observing him. The tense roll of his shoulders and soft sigh as he walked up to the car would have been imperceptible to most, all but you. His eyes met the floor as he walked, scanning the ground without really looking, deep in thought. It's so obvious now that you’re looking for it, the weariness in his eyes when he looks up at you with a smile. You wonder how long it’s been there without your notice.
"Are we all done here?"
-
Silence had always been normal in your home, a peaceful kind of quiet. That night the silence wasn't peaceful; it was heavy and overbearing. When you both made it inside Seonghwa had practically waved you away, like he was dismissing one of his soldiers as he stalked into his study in the deepest corner of the house. You didn't follow him; you were too busy staring at his back as he walked down the hall. The wood floor creaked but from the way his shoulders slumped it could have been his joints. Your mind trailed back to the previous night, where you had crept into his study with him without a care. You scanned the memory, analyzing him for a hint, anything to suggest what specifically is troubling him, but the memory was foggy, your mind had been occupied with your own scheme for the evening.
Seonghwa had long since disappeared from your view, leaving you puzzling in the entry, staring after your husband. You had to pull yourself from your stupor. Shaking off the horrible foreboding feeling you huff and pull your coat from your shoulders. Hanging the coat in the hall closet you make your way to the kitchen. The sun hangs low on the horizon, pleasantly illuminating your kitchen in golden light, but your stomach squirmed. You initially pulled yourself to the kitchen to find something to eat but you found your appetite suddenly gone. Uneasy.
You shiver, the little hairs on the back of your neck standing up. You whip around, half expecting someone to be sitting at the table behind you, but you find nothing. Well not nothing, there's a letter on the table, was that there this morning? You can remember. Your hand is halfway to the envelope before you realize it has no stamp, and no address as well. It doesn't matter, Seonghwa probably just left it on the table this morning. Still, you pick up the envelope, flipping it over you see that it is not sealed, it looks like it never was.
Seonghwa told you that you weren't cautious enough, he reminded you of this fact regularly. You thought that you were plenty cautious, in fact, you had spent the better part of the last few months in a state of paranoia. Normally you would accept Seonghwa's concerns as just care and love, but with his current attitude you can't help but wonder if looking after you is the stressor to your husband you've been looking for, and if he is nearing his wit's end. A dreadful mix of guilt but also anger brews in your stomach. Your old mantra returns like an old friend "I didn't ask for this." You had accepted that, you really had. But you felt both sorry for and angry at Seonghwa for being burdened by you. He didn't have to marry you, he could have not, let you die instead.
It is that thought that drives you to action, you open the envelope the rest of the way, pulling the folded letter from inside. It takes you a moment, but suddenly you're looking at your name. It's printed in large, neat handwriting, beckoning you to read.
With a shiver, you consider the very real possibility that someone broke into your home and placed this on the table for you to find. Even as you think it’s hard to believe, this house is a fortress, the best security systems money can buy are only one of the things protecting it, not to mention constant surveillance and patrols keeping an eye on the whole neighborhood. The neighbors don't know, but they probably live on the safest block in the city.
Still, your fingers tremble as they unfold the paper, carefully opening it to read.
The page is blank, except for a single like on text written in the same large immaculate handwriting.
"Father's Headstone, 5pm, tomorrow"
You almost drop the paper. Someone had broken in, now you know for certain. You moved to alert your husband, but you halted. To tell Seonghwa the house had been broken into would require telling how you knew, but this letter wasn't addressed to him it was addressed to you.
Your brain was scolding you. Asking yourself how stupid you could be, someone had been in your home without Seonghwas knowledge, they could do it again, and next time they could wait till you were home alone and kill you. But once again something stopped you from moving to sound the alarm, hovering in the middle of the kitchen there was a still quiet voice in your head, whispering, working its way into your mind.
'They could have killed you already.'
This simple fact is the only thing keeping you from screaming bloody murder. If they could break in, they'd been watching the house, they knew you'd been away when they broke in, and they likely knew you were alone in the house for most days. If this intruder wanted, you dead you would be.
You wish you didn't know where your doubt in Seonghwa was coming from, but Yeosangs's words had changed you. You had never thought Seonghwa would get tired of protecting you, he had promised you he wouldn't, that conversation on your wedding night. But 'marrying you wasn't supposed to cause this many problems', the sentence made your head spin with its possible implications, especially from Yeosang. He was a man of few words, but when he spoke it was often critically honest, he had also always seemed to be the most level-headed aside from Hongjong and Seonghwa. You had always suspected that's why your husband often chose his company over the others. But he had seemed frustrated when he spoke, it seemed that the burden of keeping you alive was starting to wear on the other inner circle members of Ateez.
Seonghwa spent many hours with the inner circle, and for the first time, you realize Yeosang likely has a much better what's going on in your husband's mind than yours. And even if Seonghwa is kind, and attentive this marriage started as business and the goodness of Seonghwa's heart, but if this marriage is bad for business, then you wonder if Seonghwa will do what is best for Ateez or you.
With resolve you turn, on unsteady feet you make for the living room, with its roaring fire in the fireplace. You storm towards the mantle and throw the letter into the heart of the fire. You watch enraptured as the words on the paper start to burn. You want to watch them fade from existence. But before you have the chance to watch the paper disappear completely you hear a knock on wood.
Your head snaps around, Seonghwa stands in the archway, hand leaning on the column, watching you with his hawk eyes. You try incredibly hard not to look guilty. The heat from the fire dried your eyes when you blink, they water. Your hand comes up to quickly wipe the tears.
You see his eyes dip to the fire, and your eyes snap to where the last corner of the letter is turning to ash. By the time you've returned your eyes to his, Seonghwa is already returning your gaze. Did he see the letter? No, he couldn't have, it was basically ash. Even if he saw it there's no way he could have seen what it said that you knew for sure. But still, you don't think you're imagining his eyes narrow even just a fraction.
"Is everything okay, sweetheart?" Seonghwa asks, but you can tell he's puzzling you out.
You nod your head, feigning a smile, "Of course," Your voice breaks ever so slightly on the last syllable, but you cover it with a small cough.
He looks unconvinced, his plump lips formed into a thin line. The only light in the room is the fire; it cast a shadow on his already angular face making him look almost like a phantom in the low light. But soon he steps fully into the light, and back to normal, all shreds of suspicion are gone from his face. You breathe a small sigh of relief.
"I will be returning to work tomorrow, you call for one of the captains if you need anything," He says the words to you like you don't already know. You school your expression, trying to make yourself look calm.
"I would like to go to the cemetery tomorrow," you say, this time your voice is unnervingly steady. You decided damn all the caution and fear, they could have killed you and didn't, especially when so many in your life would without a second thought. You needed to know who was behind it. When you refocus on Seonghwa, his eyes are startlingly soft, it reminds you of the look he gave you when you first met, the look for a kicked puppy.
You realize he thinks your mourning your family, your lost brother, and your father. It hurts to know that even now when you suspect your presence in his house has become nothing but a problem for him, he is still trying to be attentive, but unfortunately, he came to the wrong conclusion. But on the bright side, you suspect that because of the sensitive topic, he won't ask any more questions, his curiosity is satiated.
"I'll have Wooyoung take you," he replied quietly, as if not to startle you. You want to argue, and find an excuse to go alone, but it would only reignite his suspicion, and he would never allow it anyway. You give him a small smile, playing up the sadness in your eyes.
"I'd like that,"
-
Wooyoung was less of a problem than you expected. You had spent all day brimming with anxiety, a sick nausea sitting in your stomach, as you waited for the man's arrival. Wooyoung was the loudest of the inner circle of Ateez, at least in your experience, which admittedly is not much. So when the sound of a supped-up engine came screaming down your street and parked on the street in front of your lounge window you could guess who the vehicle belonged to.
Wooyoung could also have a bad attitude from what you could see. You never saw much of him but one of the few times you had seen him, he had jumped to attention at a joke Mingi had made in poor taste, he got as close as possible to the tall man's face, pulling him down the rest of the way by his collar and tore into him, you had never heard such casual use of such vulgar language especially at that volume.
You didn't much feel like accidentally getting into a screaming match with the man. But luckily for you, your worry had been misplaced. Wooyoung had barely said a word to you on the drive, but you saw him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, Seonghwa had probably instructed him to keep an eye on you. But you had been so busy fretting over how you were going to slip away from the man that when Wooyoung killed the ignition in the parking lot of the cemetery and instructed you to come back to the car when you were done, you hadn't even had the time to be anxious over who it was you were supposed to be meeting.
You pushed open the car door without a glance back at the man in the driver’s seat. He stayed put, apparently unwilling or unable to be around someone who will most definitely cry over a dead loved one. You quietly thanked your lucky stars as you pushed open the gate and entered the cemetery. You imagine every entrance and exit of the cemetery is being watched right now, and you hope whoever you’re meeting knows that too.
It was too late to start worrying now over who would be there to meet you. You kept reminding yourself 'If they wanted me dead, I would be' and surprisingly, the thought comforts you. A sentiment only the daughter of a mob boss could feel and understand so intimately. Whoever it is your meeting does not wish for your death, at least not right now.
It is too late to dwell on that last thought. You pause at the foot of a small hill in the cemetery, at the top of it you would find your father's and brothers' graves underneath a shady tree. At the top of the hill, there is a man, you already know this is who you're here to see, staring down at the graves with their hands in their pockets.
You begin to climb the hill. You expect the man to turn to you as you climb as there's no way he missed the sounds of your approach. But the man stays put, looking down at the matching tombstones still shiny and new after only 2 years. As you pace up the grass, the details of the figure become more apparent, and your stomach sinks as you feel you recognize more and more of the man, but from where you cannot place. It isn't until you level out at the top of the hill does it hit you. It shocks you so much you almost fall to the ground, but your brain and body are too unresponsive to fall. It can't be, no, but he's dead.
Clearly not.
He turns his eyes, the same color as yours, bore into you. Your brother stands before you, alive.
"Kai?" His name sounds foreign on your lips, you don't have a reason to say it very often anymore.
"Don't cry, Sunshine," His voice breaks the silence. You hadn't noticed the tears streaming down your face, how could you when your brother has returned to you from death. All you can do is stare and take him all in. As handsome as you remember, though a bit older now. He was a few years your senior, so his age was starting to show a bit in the lines around his eyes. But still, your brother the same, in flesh and blood. Your heart swells at the old nickname from your youth, enough to spur your body into action without input from your brain. You crash forward into your brother's waiting arms and you feel so happy it hurts. You bury your face into his chest and your senses are filled with the familiar sensations, the smell, and the feel of your brother, hugging you just as close.
Your brain had stopped accepting new information for a few moments, just content with the feeling of peace you had not felt in many years. Your brother is here, under your fingers, not just a memory in your mind. You realize he is speaking quietly to you softly whispering the same thing over and over again. "I'm sorry."
You pull away confused, looking up at him with joy and bewilderment.
"What are you apologizing for?" you ask incredulously.
"For doing this to you," You think you understand. He means this world, this life that wasn't supposed to be yours, this burden you were never supposed to bear. You shake your head no, flicking droplets of tears from your eyes.
"It's ok, I've done alright for myself," You reply, though that statement may be up for debate, shooing away his worries. You can't help but marvel that he is standing before you.
"You were dead." You say it, looking up at him in amazement, obviously able to see before you that is not the case, but you were at a loss for words, and you needed answers.
"No, it only looked like I was dead. Dad was found with another dead body in the room with him, the face was unrecognizable in the face," Kai pauses to grimace, "But I guess he looked enough like me from the neck down. I think he was one of the people sent to kill him, but Dad took him down too. The right hand identified the body as me before they ever found me." As he speaks, he trails off, realizing he led you to a question he didn't want to answer.
"Where were you?" You pried, you didn't know if you wanted to know the answer or not honestly, but more than just your own conscious relied on his answer.
"Our father and I got into a fight that night,"
As he spoke, your heart broke for him, because you needed no more explanation. Your dad loved him, but you knew they never quite saw eye to eye, like any other father and son they had disagreements over things, to what extent you did not know. That usually resulted in Kai leaving the house in a huff to kick rocks and blow off steam. From what you saw these fights were not serious, they woke up the next day and would share a pot of coffee at the breakfast table like it was nothing. You can see it in your mind's eye, if they had fought before your father died your brother would no doubt have been implicated, and his habit of disappearing into the night would only make him look more guilty. Most crimes like this would mean nothing in your world, but to kill the boss as a member of the syndicate would be treated like treason.
You both stand in the uncomfortable silence for a few moments. There is one thing in all of this that you cannot find an explanation for. Your gaze lands on your dad's tombstone, subconsciously looking to him for answers.
"Why did you come back now?" You ask, not looking up.
At that Kai gave a long sigh, he knew this topic would rear its head.
"Seonghwa is up to something."
Your head snaps to your brother. Your heart roars to defend your husband from him. And so, you do, glaring at him like when you were kids and fix him with a stern look.
"You don't know him, he’s always up to something.”
Kai returns the gaze in kind, crossing his arms over his chest and adopting the even sterner tone of an older sibling.
"I know his rap sheet and so yes I know him" You see red, huffing and puffing you take a firm step forward to get up to his face.
"So what? You've done just as much Kai, don't pretend you're a saint now." You are uncharacteristically angry. Kai was next in line to lead your organization he had a reputation all his own, and as possibly your husband's only line of defense against your brother you stood your ground. Kai shakes his head,
"This isn't about me; our people have rules and lines we don't cross. Since he married my baby sister, I've been keeping an eye on him and he's been dealing with some very bad business lately, getting involved with the worst kind of people, the kind that doesn't play by our rules, they think their above them."
You shiver almost wanting to cover your ears. Seonghwa never told you too much about work, and most of the time you didn't want to know. What Kai is describing is not the kind you wanted to hear.
"Seonghwa doesn't keep me up to date on business," you say trying to causally hide the shake in your voice. At that Kai scoffs,
"Oh, I'll bet he doesn't," Resentment drips from his voice and it surprises you. Resentment is such a strong emotion, and surprising to see your usually chipper brother dripping with it.
"I've seen it, I've seen what he can be like. I know what he does, that doesn't change anything! It doesn't matter when you-" He cuts you off,
"What when you love someone? You can’t possibly be that naive." His tone is harsh, harsher than you expected. You almost flinch away. Your brother sees your confusion and distaste and schools himself, looking to the floor and taking a deep breath. When he looks up he is kind again.
"Park Seonghwa has seen and done things more barbaric than you can even imagine. Our father sheltered you more than you know." You are once again taken with the desire to defend your husband, tell your brother you know his heart and that is the truest part of him, but his words make you feel small. You knew that your dad had protected you, but you never would have called yourself naive. Unfortunately, you know you cannot deny your brother's claims, the more you thought the wider, vaster, and scarier the world seemed. You can’t even shoot a gun properly yet, Seonghwa doesn't even need a gun to take a life.
"I never trusted him as far as I could throw him" Your brother speaks into the silence.
At that, your eyes snap to him. You had never thought about the fact that Seonghwa and your brother knew each other. You assumed they didn't know each other well, Seonghwa had never mentioned Kai. But your brother's words made it sound otherwise. You had never felt a reason to be truly, awfully, angry with your husband before, but this felt close. Seonghwa is the only person you allow to see you grieve. To think he was withholding moments of your brother's life you'd never known. You imagine them sitting together in a smokey lounge, sipping bourbon and making small talk and thinly veiled threats amongst other young mobsters. You wonder what they spoke about, or even for how long they have known each other. All things Seonghwa had never shared with you.
Remembering the mobsters brought to mind your current predicament. Hunted by your father's lost right-hand Joongki, who is vying to take control. Questions swarm your mind like alarm bells, what did this mean for Kai? Is he in danger? Where is he staying? Is it safe? You take hold of his arms shaking him slightly with your intensity.
"Kai, you have to come with me. I can't explain it all right now, but as soon as people find out you're alive Joongki is going to come after you," you speak quicker than intended. It's Kai's turn to shake his head.
"You don't have to explain anything, I already know." He replies with a smile, "Remember who you're talking to," he says proudly, crossing his arms and pushing out his chest in a silly show, but it still rings true. You can't help but be softened by your brother's attitude, despite the work he did, he himself had always been a mood lifter, nothing could dampen his spirit. But the question still remains,
"How do you know? Most people don't even know he's alive?" as soon as I ask it I realize the irony, Kai notes it too with a head nod and a knowing smirk before continuing,
"I kind of used my presumed death to take a page out of your book sis," He explains with a shy smile, "I called up the police department, Of course, they wanted to arrest me right away for any one of the numerous crimes I've committed."
As he speaks, he leans in slightly as if letting and you two can't help but chuckle at the thought, "But since I had been already pronounced dead, I offered them a unique opportunity." He explains waging a finger at you, "I work with them as an undercover, to bring down other gangs. Nobody too close to home obviously, nowhere they'd recognize me. Nobody knows organized crime quite like a crime lord, and they needed the help." As he concludes he offers a small bow, as if he just performed a monologue or a memorized speech. You can't help but slowly applaud him while shaking your head at his theatrics.
You take the time to piece together the information he's given you and try to work it into your understanding. It makes sense that the cops would know Jiyong was back in town, there were enough officers on mobsters' payrolls to keep them somewhat well informed. Hell, Hongjoong might have told the police himself. And you suppose you could see how your brother's knowledge and skillset might set him up wonderfully for a life dismantling the one he grew up in. You look up at him and try not to cry for joy, because you could not have wished for a better future for your brother, even if he's meddling where he's not wanted. Since that day two years ago it had only been Seonghwa, you feel happiness proportional to the doubling of the size of your family.
In the distance, you heard the sound of a supped-up engine revving to life. You suppose that's Wooyoung subtly trying to encourage you to wrap it up. You check your watch, 6:15. You look around yourself, the sun is nearly setting, it's nearing fall for the sun to set so early. The air chill sets in carried by a breeze, which shakes the leaves. So, 3 years. You've nearly made it to your 3-year wedding anniversary.
"I need to go now Kai, Seonghwa will be expecting me home soon." You speak. Kai scowls, you can tell he doesn't like that idea, but you don't care. You're not just going to walk away from Seonghwa. You could never. You hug your brother for as long as time allows, instructing him to wait in the cemetery until the Ateez men leave.
You hurry back to the car, rubbing your eyes to make it look like you are crying. Despite this, you could not stop the smile from creeping onto your lips. In the car, Wooyoung still glances in your direction every so often, but you can see an extra layer of curiosity in his glances. He expected you to be inconsolable, instead, you are practically grinning ear to ear.
-
You tread softly on the hardwood in your hallway. Once again the big townhome is empty except for you, a condition you've grown used to. The moment you push open the white double doors to the master bedroom you shed your coat to the floor and exhale in comfort. You kick off your shoes, feeling the plush carpet beneath your feet as you pad to the connected master bathroom. As you walk your strip articles of clothing, eager to get into a warm bath as quickly as possible. You've made a mess on the floor that Seonghwa won't appreciate, but at the moment you don't care.
It could be hours before he gets home, even days if the situation calls for it. You knew better than to ask for more of his time, if you wanted to reap the benefits of being a gangster's wife like expensive soaks and bath bombs you had to be ok with the time away. It was the same with your father. Of course, when your father died you weren’t thinking about the pretty dresses he bought you, you were thinking about the little time you had with him.
With that sour thought, you climbed into the bath, letting the hot water and steam ease your body into relaxation. You were happy now, with no room for anxious thoughts. Your brother is back and alive, what more could you hope for? You should be elated and nothing else. You close your eyes and try to force calm into your thoughts. But you can't, you’re still upset with Seonghwa, but the thought of him dead makes your skin crawl. Your body reacts more physically to the thought than you anticipated, and shivers go down your spine.
Whatever Kai's issue with Seonghwa is needs to be resolved soon if he's going to return to your life, and you want him too badly. Most people never get the chance to see their dead loved ones again, and you will do anything in your power to keep him this time. But you can't tell Seonghwa, that much is obvious. You're already burdening him; you can't overfill his plate.
You sink lower into the bath, submerging yourself in the water trying to drown out the overbearing thoughts. You stay there, lying flat on your back under the bubbles for as long as your lungs let you your eyes are screwed shut to avoid any soap getting into your eyes. you breach the surface when you run out of air, pushing your soaked hair back and rubbing your eyes. When you open them Seonghwa stands at the foot of the porcelain tub, looking down at you in his crisp unbuttoned navy suit jacket and pressed trousers. His hands are shoved into the pockets of the slacks, his face a marble statue of unreadable stone.
'Wooyoung brought you to the cemetery today." It doesn't sound like a question, so you don't answer it like one. You know what the pause means, he is thinking over his words, choosing the best to fit his purpose. You search his eyes trying to find what it is he's seeing in you, but you can't, he really is carved from stone.
"Did you find what you were looking for?"
His choice of words absolutely throws you. You have to catch your mouth from dropping open like a fish. For a second you think he knows, there's no way he chose those words accidentally. But it is that same though that wrangles your reaction and your racing heart before either can reveal you. Seonghwa is practiced at getting people to reveal more than they intend to. You know how effective an open-ended question can be, so many people talk themselves into traps. You are his wife, he can read you but you can also read him, you are on an equal footing in this.
"Yes, I think I did," you say the words with an earnest smile, knowing that the words are true. You did now know what you were looking for when you walked in but you are glad you were brave enough to look.
If Seonghwa did not expect such an honest reaction from you he did not show it.
"I'm glad to hear it," He replies, matching the sincerity in your tone. Yours was fake, it’s possible his is as well.
You watch carefully as he walks around the side of the tub, his expensive leather shoes clacking on the marble floors. From near the cupboard, he pulls a small stepstool, setting it on the floor beside the tub. Seonghwa pulled his suit jacket from his shoulders with a huff, undoing the cuffs of his freshly ironed Oxford shirt, and rolled the sleeves past his elbows. How he can manage a day doing his job and still look so pristine at the end of the day was a marvel to you. When he is done, he sits on the stool facing you.
You raise an eyebrow at him, and your hand slips up from the water to rest on the side of the tub in front of him. Seonghwa's fingers find yours, he runs his dry hand across yours and slowly up your arm and goosebumps follow in its wake. You let yourself enjoy the touch because your heart still hums happily when he does. At your shoulder, he brushes wet hair from your neck before taking your chin lightly in his hand.
You think he's going to kiss you. Maybe that's why it almost works.
"What was on that piece of paper?" He asks the question casually, but you know it is anything but. You don't let yourself be startled by him mentioning the letter. This was another mask, you could see it clearly since you'd started paying attention. He was acting, acting like your husband, when right now he wasn't. Right now, he is the underboss of Ateez. This is an integration tactic. You feel just the tiniest bit of your heartbreak at the realization that for the first time since your wedding day, you and Seonghwa were not a single unit or a united front, right now you're playing against each other, and it made you sick.
Luckily for you, you don't have to lie to conceal the truth, it will mean a very different thing to him than you.
"It was a note, from my brother." You reply quietly, almost somber. That was by design, this is your mask, mourning. You can see a flash of guilt in his eyes, and you know your trick worked. His hand dropped to hang limping over the side of the tub.
Over the course of the past two days, you had accidentally and on purpose spun a pretty lie to your husband. From his perspective, all he saw was his wife finding an old note from her dead brother and reawakening her grief. Although it's clear he has his suspicions. You suddenly feel very proud of yourself for beating Seonghwa in this battle of wits, as you can't always do it.
"I'm sorry sweetheart," he says and you know he means it but you shake your head at him.
"Don't be, it's a good thing" You reply, meaning it just as much.
-
You spend the next week anxiously waiting to hear from your brother. You hope he will reach out to you, to give you both more chances to talk and explain things to each other, but it has been radio silence. On Friday the nauseating anxiety came back even stronger. You dreaded the worst, that Joongki had found Kai and that your brother was already dead again. The thought makes you ache.
But you don't have to suffer through much more. The next Monday you received another note calling you deep into the city at a hidden speakeasy for your next rendezvous with your brother.
Seonghwa had been tough to crack to let that one slide. You had wanted to get him to agree with as little details as possible, for the sake of your privacy. But that hadn't worked out as well as you planned. You couldn't agree to let any of the Ateez members go with you, and for that, you had used the excuse of an old girlfriend from college wanting to catch up as if any of them knew how to contact you anymore. An Ateez boy would scare her, and Seonghwa could see that. The problem came when Seonghwa pressed for details on the location. If you denied him, he'd become more suspicious. You thought it best to just tell him and hope the path of least resistance allows you to slip through.
Your plan worked but not perfectly. on the day of he pressed the keys of his sleek black car into your palm and told you to drive safe. You knew that car had an advanced GPS that he could track through Ateez's security system, he would know if you veered off course. You had no intention of doing any such thing. You just hoped as you arrived that was all the precautions he'd taken.
You had gone into that meeting with a plan. A strong desire to straighten things out between the two men in your life, but the opportunity had never presented itself. Kai somehow with his disarming jokes and warm smiles seamlessly led the conversation wherever he wanted. Where he wanted was memory lane. All evening you drank and talked about your life as kids, it had been a long time since you’d laughed with anyone and it felt nice so you let it happen.
It's then that he asks about Seonghwa after you've reminisced and enjoyed yourself. You are thankful for the distraction, but now it is hard to focus on much of anything much less the complex relationship between you and our husband. You're both slurring your words as he emotionally asks you questions about your relationship.
It’s typical things a brother would say
"Sss- Sunshinee, you gotta tell me!" Kai asks, clasping an arm to your shoulder and looking at you with hard eyes.
"Does he treat you well?"
The response was hard, hard to say, and hard to remember. It was also getting hard to remember the number of drinks you've had. Your head feels heavy as it starts to droop to the side. The next question was easy, even in your current state,
"Does he protect you?"
You had replied with a resounding yes, nodding your head at him with certainty, though the motion made your eyes lose focus and you had to work to regain it. You wowed Kai with the tale of your shooting lessons and how Seonghwa had been against you even holding a weapon.
At that information, Kai had pulled his own gun from his belt and smashed it on the table. You jumped in your seat turning to him with annoyance about to chew him out for scaring you, but he had the words out first.
"I want you to take this,"
You had shook your head no, and swatted weakly at him as he pushed the metal into your grasp. You didn't want it. you didn't ask for the gun why is he pushing it in your hand? You make a distressed noise, some heads turn to look in your direction and you curse, slipping the weapon into your purse. Even when drunk you try hard to keep control of your wit and pay attention to your surroundings but you know that today you forgot that. Your eyes scan the room and even drunk you know your mistake. Your stomach drops enough to make your head slump forward in shame.
"Kai you need to leave," You say, tapping at him trying to draw attention to the tall man making his way across the lounge to your table. Kai, though he was drunk as a sunk only seconds before gets to his feet with surprising agility. Your last drink of alcohol hits you and you feel it drain any chance of you standing up to follow.
"I'll see you, tomorrow sis, I’ll come find you,"
You hear the words and smile at the knowledge you will not have to wait another week to see him. A shadow falls over your table, blocking out the light from one of the dim chandeliers. You're not afraid, it's only Yunho and Jongho. The two, despite being the muscle of the inner circle had always seemed the gentlest to you. Perhaps that is why you let them pull you from the booth and toward the door. You are not in mortal danger with these two, so your brain floats back to thoughtlessness.
As your bodyguards walks you to your husband's car, they are careful not to touch you as you slump down into the passenger seat with a huff and a drunken babble. Yunho gingerly buckles you in place, before closing the door. Your head spins as you lean into the seat, happy to find it already reclined to your preferred position. You get comfortable in the darkness. You know that inevitably when you get out of the car, they will be depositing you back with Seonghwa, along with the information that it was not a girl you were there to see. Faintly you wonder if the two happened to be there tonight or if Seonghwa had sent them to spy on you.
When you get home, the awaiting conversation will be unpleasant.
Yunho slides into the driver's seat. You notice him open your purse. If Yunho knows you're not supposed to have the gun concealed in the small bag he says nothing, finding the keys he pushes them into the ignition and brings the car to life.
On the drive back your head tilts, leaning on the cool glass of the window. You don't speak, your head is still spinning, and it isn't Yunho you're going to need to explain yourself too. You try to block out the dread building in you, and the alcohol makes it easier to forget your worries. Soon, you're asleep.
-
Distantly you remember being woken up by the car coming to a stop in front of your home, and if you really try to remember, images of your husband’s face as he laid you down on your bed also swirled in your thoughts.
You stir in bed, eyes still closed. Distantly you trace your hand across the silk sheet, petting the soft material. When you lift your head it pounds, the alcohol leaving your system. You hiss through your teeth at the pain. You open your eyes and look at the window, it's still dark outside. Your eyes flick to the clock. 3:32 am. You groan, and roll over, intending on going back to sleep, but when you automatically reach for Seonghwa's body lying next to you, you realize he's not there. And then you remember the events of the night that led you to this point.
You push yourself from the bed resolutely and your bare feet plant themselves on the carpet floor. It would be so easy to go back to sleep and let this be a problem for the morning, but you have to at least know if Seonghwa is in the house, or if what Yunho told him was enough for him to disappear into the night.
It doesn't take long for you to find him, as the only light in the house is coming from beneath his office door. He probably heard you descend the creaky wooden stairs, but he doesn't look up when you push the door to his office open. His broad back is to you when you enter, facing out the window into the dark night of the city around us. There's a fancy glass bottle of amber liquid on his desk, and a glass in his hand. Seonghwa wasn't a drunk, he didn't have the liberty to not be in his right mind most of the time. But he's been drinking tonight, at least since you've been asleep.
He doesn't turn as you cross to the leather sofa and sit down, your feet curling under you as you sit, making yourself small in his office, as if that would lessen the anger bubbling under the surface of his skin. He's angry, that's for certain, even just from looking at his back you can see the stiffness and rigidity, the tension in his muscles.
You watch as he raises the glass to his lips, taking a last drag to clear the glass. He still hasn’t turned.
"Where'd you get the gun, Sweetheart?
The nickname carries none of the usual affection.
Of course, you can't answer him. You couldn't betray your brother’s trust. You only just got him back; you will keep his secret going for his own protection. But it's only now that you realize what that may cost you. The truth is that you feel guilty, guilty for what happened to him. Maybe if you had been stronger your father would have involved you more in the business, you could have helped him and maybe stopped the whole misunderstanding from happening. It felt like you betrayed your brother by giving up on him so easily, just believing he was dead without question. You can’t see how this will play out, you don’t know how to reconcile your love for your husband with your need to protect your brother as the two were at complete odds.
When you don't say anything Seonghwa turns around. His face, which could be so soft and inviting, was all hard lines and sharp angles. The look he planted on you was piercing, suspicious, and calculating. He was watching you like he watches his business associates, analyzing your every move. It fills you with contempt to be looked at like this by him. Like one of his enemies. It’s true you’re deceiving him, but never would you betray him and it offends you that he seems to think you’re capable of that. It only makes you more defensive.
"Who gave you the damn gun." Seonghwa's voice cuts you like a knife, but you say nothing, your gaze dropping to the floor. You feel your lip tremble and you curse yourself for already feeling close to tears. There's no way to make him understand, you have no answer for him, not one that's yours to give. Seonghwa rounds the desk in a flash, moments later he's standing in front of you, arms crossed, eyes laced with venom, and a snarl on his lips.
"Who the fuck is he then, this man that's been writing you letters you feel the need to burn. He's getting you to sneak out, he's getting you drunk. What else has he been getting you to do?"
At that your gaze snaps up, your eyes just as fiery as his. Logically, you know how this must look to him, but you feel scorned by the very notion. Did he not remember that all you ever wanted from him was a happy marriage, and he had given you that. So how could he not trust that you meant it when you needed nothing else?
"What are you accusing me of Seonghwa?" You ask and your tone is icy. You glared up at him to challenge him, daring him to say it. After your 3 years together, through every obstacle that could have broken you apart, you both stood firm. How could he think so low of you?
"I think you know," He growls, the answer coming from deep in his chest. His eyes darken, and for a second you wonder if you should be afraid of him right now. But you not, you’re enraged.
"I want to hear you say it," You spit back. Would he be able to say it to you? Admit out loud what his conclusion suspicions came to? You think about how worried you had been to be a burden on him, and you feel that your suspicions have been proven correct. Maybe this was just a way out for him, to rid himself of the burden for caring for you. If that is true, you knew your resolution to keep Kai a secret from him is the right one, you needed a support system outside of this marriage if you could not rely on Seonghwa anynmore.
"You asked me to learn to use a gun." He starts, leaning over you with a leer, "Ever since then I've been able to tell you're keeping something from me. And now Yunho tells me he found you cuddled up next to some guy who ran off the second Yunho got close. And apparently, that man gave you this gun." As he speaks, he pulls the same weapon from his holster and slams it down on the coffee table. You jump at the noise, unable to stop it, but Seonghwa carries on.
"So my question for you, Sweetheart, is why the man you've been sneaking around with gave you it, did he tell you to kill me? and then you two could run away together?" It's not your husband speaking to you, its a hardened criminal, a man who has been taught by this world to suspect everyone and expect the worst. You feel your heart breaking because you never thought that that included you. Obviously, you were wrong.  
The most frustrating part is that with the information Seonghwa has, it would not have been a hard conclusion to come to for someone who has reason to distrust. But he was supposed to trust you. In fact, you wanted to scream in his face, how could you even have the opportunity to cheat on him when you've been on house arrest for months? But that's not what you say.
"Do you really think I'm capable of that?"
You can tell your words take him aback, his hard facade dropping for just a second when he processes your words. He's remembering, who you are, the girl he married, sitting on the leather sofa in your father's office looking as small and weak as you do right now. She would not be capable of doing what he's accusing you of. She is you, and although a lot has changed, does he really think you could change that much?
You can see him following that same thought process, his eyes glazing over as he thinks. But unfortunately, he's been in this world longer than he's been married to you, and it's clear which side of him is winning in his mind, underboss over husband. And his suspicions are not so easily forgotten.
"Out."
Seonghwa grits his teeth as he speaks, holding back more than he says. His eyes swim with emotion, more now than ever before.
"Excuse me?" You ask incredulously after processing his command. It was your turn to be taken aback.
"I said, get out."
Seonghwa had never spoken to you like this, cold almost uncaring. It was an order, like the ones he gave his men. Only this is out of anger, for fear of what he might say or do to you if you stay. He's turned apathetic, dismissing all of the emotion that was there only moments ago. Now when he looks at you, his eyes hold nothing.
Those words were the straw that broke the camel’s back. You felt your heart in your throat, and you were doing your best to choke back tears without his notice. Seonghwa spun on his heel, pacing back to the behind the desk. Ignoring you to seethe out the window as you stand on shaky feet.
"Ok, then. I'm leaving." You say aloud, trying to keep your voice neutral, despite how much you want to sob.
You know full well that Seongwha only meant to leave his office, as your presumed house arrest was still in place. But when he gave you the command, all you could think about was your brother's old habit, of disappearing into the night to blow off steam. You can't go back to bed, not now when the empty other side would only taunt you even more. You needed to be out of the house, having never quite understood Kai as well as you do at this moment. You go upstairs and change into something nondescript enough to not draw attention on an early morning walk.
-
You had slipped through a window on the ground floor of your home to leave. You doubt after the argument you just had that Seonghwa would have stopped you if you had just walked right out the front door, but you didn't much feel like risking it.
You walked for a while. The cool morning air does more to ease your heavy heart than you anticipated. The memory of the argument was still a pressing weight on your chest, restricting your breathing with each step, but the beginnings of the sunrise just barely beginning to lighten the sky was a calming influence on your still racing heartbeat.
You had never felt so shaken, hurt, and betrayed. But the morning walk had already made you come to terms with the fact that you had not helped you case much at all. But you didn't know how to make Seonghwa see, without exposing more than you should.
With the streets as quiet as they are, it would have been hard not to notice the sounds of a car turning down the street. You look up at the noise, glancing over your shoulder subconsciously. You are suddenly no longer upset, sad, or even angry. No, how could you be? When all you can feel is cursing hot adrenaline pounding in your ears and ice-cold fear grips your heart.
A van is slowly making its way down the street. It's all black, even the windows and the hubcaps. No logos or phone numbers are displayed on the side, this is no workman's vehicle. It's 4:30 a.m. on a quiet morning on a quiet street, and the van is entirely out of place as there is nothing here for it, except you.
The corner is approaching, your feet away, once you're around it whoever it is will still be close, but they won't be able to see you and that's the best chance you have. Your head strains to not look over your shoulder again, they are moving slowly, and you don't want them to know what you're planning to do. The second you round you start to run, full steam ahead down the sidewalk. By no means the subtlest thing you could do but what other choice do you have? There's no one around, you could reach for your phone but with their van, they would be on you before anyone could even pick up, much less help you. The thought makes you choke back a sob as you run, the idea of calling Seonghwa now, hours after he lectured you begging him to come and save you. Your brain curses your husband, as you clench your teeth, looking over your shoulder at the corner, no van yet, but you must have only seconds. If Seonghwa had not taken the gun your brother gave you you would be able to fight, defend yourself, maybe even get away.
You push those thoughts from your mind, partially because you have no time for them, partially because they are not true to your heart. The thought of Seonghwa appearing now to save you is embarrassing but is also the single greatest desire of your heart. Your eyes scan the road, looking for an alley, fence, or gate, anything that you could slip behind and use for cover as you make your escape. Adrenaline as your senses heightened and you can hear the sound of the van making its approach. Without time or options left, you dive behind some crates outside a small shop, hoping that whoever is in the van will carry on down the street, assuming you slipped away.
Time slows to a crawl. Your heartbeat pounds in your head as you focus on the sound of the van rounding the corner. It rolls along the pavement for about 30 seconds without change, coming nearer and nearer to your hiding spot. Your heart jumps into your throat when you realize you hear the van slowing to a stop, and you flinch aggressively when the sound of car doors swinging open hits your ears. You can feel your hands shaking and you press them into the cool concrete of the pavement trying to keep you from losing composure. Boots smack onto the ground, more than one pair, but you can't tell how many.
You suck in a breath, unable to exhale as the boots being spreading up and down the street.
"Ok, little lady, cute trick, but how bout you come on out" A gruff voice calls. Pure ice runs through your veins but you stay silent. It's quiet for five of your pounding heartbeats.
"I'm losing patience! We will find you so why don't you make it this way! The voice calls out, and pricks of spite seep into the words, you desperately try to place the voice, but you cannot. There is another pause, but then the sounds of shuffling boots.
"Come on little lady, you've got an appointment,"
They were getting closer. Any moment you would be found. And then what? Shot? killed right here on the street like an animal? You’re not far from home, and the thought makes you retch to die so close to safety but your brain swims with even worse images of your body being dumped on your front porch. Or even worse yet, they don't kill you here, they drag you away to do even worse things, things that would make you wish you were dead. Seonghwa would know, he knows these kinds of men and their minds, he would know their intentions. Before you can finish your spiraling the sound of boots just on the other side of the crates makes you freeze, you don't dare even to think for fear of making a noise.
"Kick it over." The voice calls.
What?
Before you have time to think about it something crashes against the pile of crates, sending the pile toppling over onto you. You can't help but scream in fear, revealing your location though they clearly could already tell. A box that had been perched right on top came falling down, the first box to collide with you but not the last. The crate cracks against your skull, just above the eye socket. Pain like you had never felt before sprouted from the spot, but in the next second, it was gone when the back of your head hit the concrete knocking you out.
-
When you come too, your hands are bound and there is something over your head keeping you blind. The next thing you realize is the pain radiating from your skull, back, and ribs. The crate pile had fallen on all of you, that you remember, but with the way your head spins even in complete darkness, the throbbing beating in your skull keeping all other pain to a dull buzz, you couldn't be sure if your injuries were from the crates or you’re handing after you lost consciousness.
Your knees fell onto cold hard concrete, and you couldn’t help but wince, bruises would already be forming on the bare skin. Without your hand to steady yourself at the rough treatment you fell in a heap on the floor. Only to shriek again when calloused hands grasped the ropes binding your hands together and pulling you upright. The rope stung as its weathered fibers dug into your wrists.
Your head was pounding. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You had not inhaled since you were thrown to the floor and the lack of oxygen only made your trembling worse. You shuddered a breath, but it did nothing to calm your nerves. The sounds of others moving about the room and the approaching footsteps made your stomach sink lower and lower with every step.
Light flashes in front of your eyes so blinding that you only manage a second before shutting them. You could feel a room full of stares on you, it was all you could do to peek your eyes open enough to see that whatever had been up over your head had been removed, only to be replaced by the figure of a skinny man and the glint of a gun.
It was him, of course, it was. You weren’t an idiot. You couldn’t feel proud of your deduction, not when pain and terror were all you could manage.
He was staring down at you from his full height, a smug look of accomplishment seared onto his features.
“My my, how you’ve grown.”
The words felt like a slap across your face. This man had helped raise you. You had mourned his supposed death, and now he stood over you, shoving that back in your face.
You were still terrified. But if you were going to make it out of this alive, you are gonna have to be smart and maybe, just maybe, get angry.
“Joongki”
“So, I heard you got yourself married, and to Park Seonghwa of all people. Now why did you have to go and do that. If you had stayed gone you could have lived.”
His words burned in your mind. Cold-blooded rage filled you. Your family died, you were at your absolute lowest, you had no fucking choice but to come back. If he hadn’t disappeared in the first place you would have been happy to hand over that responsibility to him. And now he’s blaming it all on you.
“That was smart of you. Handing off responsibility to someone who knows what they are doing. I’m proud of you, kiddo.” Joongki says with a sinister smile.
Another log on the flame. You still shook, your body still aches, but you willed yourself to speak with an even tone.
“Why am I still alive Joongki?”
At that he cracked into a full grin.
“Scared? Don’t worry darling, you won’t be for much longer." He asks with a chortle.
“I'm not scared” You shoot back, only barely concealing your seething. He stares at you in mild disbelief and amusement for a moment before speaking.
“And why is that?”
“Because when my husband gets here and I’m not alive? He’s going to do more than kill you,” you say the words, but your voice shakes. You are afraid, more afraid than you have ever been. And maybe, slightly, horrifyingly, you realize you've begun to doubt Seonghwa's need for you. You've started keeping secrets from each other, both of you, and Yeosong's words sear into your memory like a tattoo. 'Marrying you wasn't supposed to cause this many problems.'
“Is that what you think, do tell me more.” he replies.
“You haven’t been around in a while Jiyoung, you haven’t seen them at their worst.” your voice trembles, but it is your rage keeping you talking, overpowering the fear.
"And you have?" he asks in disbelief.
But you can't answer, you know you haven't. You know that now that you have been attacked, bound and thrown into the back of a bus. You think of your brother's words on the hill, 'seen and done things more barbaric than your mind can imagine.' You have a feeling you're about to experience some of these things at Joongki’s hand, and you scream at yourself for ever being cocky enough to leave your home unprotected just to prove a point. Well, this is where that has gotten you.
A door behind you didn't know was there crashed open with a bang. And a single pair of light quiet footsteps came through the door. unease entered your stomach and grew with the smirk on !!!! face.
"Why don't you leave us everyone,"
No, no, no, fuck God no. Why did it have to be him? The figure walks around your side, coming to stand at in front of where you kneel on the floor. Your eyes fix to the floor as they brim with tears, your heart breaking all over again as if you could stand to lose him one more time.
"Look at me," The voice of your brother calls, his words had only just been ringing in your mind. It shatters you. Crumbling every last piece of resolve and fight left in you. The past 24 hours have brought you nothing but anger and heartache and the single reprieve from all of it has been the single, glorious, monumental idea that your brother was alive, and every wrong choice for you had been the right one for him.
And now you're here, tied up at his feet, broken, beaten, and bruised. You don't look up. You can't meet his eye. You hear him sigh, you hear the scrape of metal, and see the legs of the chair he sets up before taking a seat but you still don't look at his face. You stay like that for a few moments, cowering at the foot of your brother while he holds you captive.
"Up here Sunshine." he goads.
The nickname makes your skin crawl. That name was for family, no family would do this to you. You say nothing allowing your mind to spiral into despair. This latest blow has taken all the fight from you, all the anger from moments ago. Slowly you raise your head to meet his gaze, if he's expecting anything more from you than the blank stare you give he will be sorely disappointed, emoting is the last thing you can do. Your brother smirks down at you, revealing more and more as the second passes just how satisfied he is with himself.
"I thought you were a cop." Your voice is hoarse and dry in both timbre and tone, who knows how long it's been since you've drank water. Its not a question, but he knows what it means. I need answers. The story he told you clearly was a lie, how much you don't know. Half of you doesn't even care, at this point what difference does it make, he betrayed you all the same.
"You want to hear how it actually went down?" He's almost giddy asking, eager to expand upon your misery. You stay silent, there are no words to fit your situation, the anger, the despair, the hopelessness, but most of all the betrayal paralyzes you, keeping you from doing anything but listening. He waits only for a moment, but once it's clear he will get nothing from you he carries on without another beat.
"Dear old dad and I got into a bit of an argument that night," he began, the wild grin on his face showed you he would be only to delighted to explain it to you, his master plan.
"I had been losing big at the Ateez casinos. I admit I lost a lot, but that fat old man had all the money in the world, so imagine my fucking surprise when I came to him, asking for a small loan to pay off the guys over there, and he tells me to get lost." Your mind is swarming with new information, you can’t even begin to consider Ateez's involvement with this story when your brother is talking like a monster. But he does not stop, not waiting for you to follow along.
"He was spouting some shit about how it would teach me responsibility to find my own money. Like responsibility makes any damn difference to us," Your brother grumbles the last part, and it gives you flashbacks to times when your brother would pout over you not sharing snacks and it adds fuel to the fire eating you up from the inside.
"I killed Dad,"
The words ring in your ears like a gunshot, and they are as good as. Your body crumples and you can't stop the sob from ripping through your chest. They have mortally wounded you. Betrayal of the deepest kind. You cried for this man, you mourned him with your whole being, you thrust yourself into this life to protect his and your father's memory and this is the thanks you receive. Hot wet tears pour from your eyes.
"I guess it wasn't necessary, but you weren't there, you don't know. I didn't wanna stop once it started." You retch, your disgust and sorrow so deep that your body is trying to rid itself of whatever is making it feel this way, but your stomach is empty after so little meals, and it only causes you more pain. No one had ever bothered to tell you how your family had died, you knew that meant violently, you knew they had been killed, all of this you could never imagine.
"Then came the hard part, some of Dad's advisors knew he was going to meet me, and I couldn't have anyone know I killed him, otherwise they'd never let me in charge, so for the time being I had to be dead too. Luckily knew just the guy." Your brother almost giggled at the mention of Jiyong, knowing that had to have been another nasty shock for me.
"It was hard work finding a guy that looked enough like me, wasn't hard to mess with his face enough once we'd killed him to make him identifiable as me, especially as the boy next to Dad." Your Brother carried on, recounting his horrible tale to you, leaving you as broken mentally as his men had left you physically.
"And all we had to do was wait, wait for the timing to be just right, wait for your big moment of weakness to swoop down and reclaim my throne," your brother sat up straighter, with his chin held high. Then as if snapping himself from his own daydream he looks down on you with more vile hatred than you have ever seen before.
"But then you had to go and get married to Park fucking Seonghwa, and hand over my entire kingdom!" the more your brother spoke the more unhinged his mind became. His madness was consuming him, and at the moment all of that anger was directed down onto you. He stands, so quickly it topples the metal chair, and you flinch, curling in on yourself, no longer willing to engage with this stranger you thought you knew. So, what if he killed you for it, you felt dead already.
Theirs an incredibly loud crash, forcing your eyes open, and when you look at the man you realize he flung the chair into the stone wall and was panting heavily while facing it. He whipped around back to you as if all the anger was expelled from his body in that one action.
"Now you understand Sis, there are no hard feelings really, but you are the one who had to go and ruin things by getting married, but luckily for you, we can turn this into a happy accident."
"What is it you want from me" you sob in a whisper, unable to look at the man anymore. Was the brother you knew ever real?
"Before our best hope was regaining our old territory, but since my baby sister is such a charmer, I now have the perfect bargaining chip over Ateez, it's about time someone taught those boys some responsibility" Your brother's voice twisted with sick delight. Your body starts before your brain, lurching you off the ground. Seonghwa.
You had betrayed him and you had done it on purpose. You could never have imagined that the letter would lead to this. You curse yourself, hate yourself even more than you hate the man in front of you. All of this, the whole great stinking mess, every problem started with you and your ineptitude. And now your brother was going to make Seonghwa and the rest of Ateez pay for it.
You no longer know what or how to think.
You don’t notice him leaving, you’re to numb. Even the aches and pains in your body are dull in comparison to the vast emptiness you feel inside. You’re glad the man is gone and out of your sight but some part of you perhaps the little girl who loved her big brother very much, misses him and wishes he was here to pull you up off the floor and protect you from any more harm. But that brother doesn’t exist anymore, you've already mourned him when he "died" The man who came back is a cruel stranger.
You don't know how long you lay there feeling empty, or when the brutes drag your unresponsive body to a small room and lock the door. Your mind barely recognizes the cramped space, but as you gaze around the dark space you realize it's a small supply closet, though whatever was once stored here is gone. You don’t have the energy to sit up, so your body curls in, conserving its body heat and you let your mind still feel too shocked to concentrate on any one thought. You remember faintly as you succumb to exhaustion, your brother embracing you on the hill in the cemetery saying, "I'm sorry for doing this to you," Before you have time to ponder it, you've fallen into a restless sleep.
-
When you wake you are lying flat on your back. You don't know how long you've been asleep but from the way your head still pounds it was certainly not long enough. But you don't feel awful. Your eyes crack open and you're staring at a blank ceiling, but it's bright not the dark room you collapsed in. Turning your head, you see paper curtains surrounding where you lay, an IV bag hangs from its rack to your right. You follow the thin tube as it trails through the air and into your arm. You want to be alarmed, to stand up and rip the tube from your skin and make your escape, but you're still so exhausted. You take notice of your body for the first time, covered in a blanket, you flex your fingers and toes. You notice that some of the pain is gone. The surface scratches and bumps that you got in your capture have been bandaged, and you have a feeling the IV is pumping you full of fluids to aid the dehydration that is surely one of the causes of the pounding in your head.
Your head turns when a small gasp breaks the silence. There's a woman, moving aside one of the curtains to look in on you. It’s obvious.
whoever this woman is it's obvious she's not a doctor, but she comes back she's holding a small plastic cup with 2 pills jostling against the sides you can tell she was the one treating you.
"What is that"
"Painkillers She can tell you don't trust her, by the suspicious look you give the plastic cup.
"Fine then, don't take them. makes no difference to me. Your brother put you in here for me to keep you alive, nothing more." She's putting on a brave front in front of you, but her eyes give her away. Unease pours from them, along with concern, but she doesn't let herself display either as she gets up and walks away, taking the pills with her. You can see her story clear as day. She was medically trained, maybe even used to be a doctor, but now she's here, working for your brother. She once had a dream to help people, and now she's keeping prisoners and gang members alive when they can't go to a hospital. It reminded you of yourself, and you couldn't help but feel sorry for the woman.
Guys come for you and push you into the same room from before and tie you to a metal chair at a metal table. Kai is already there, he's smiling.
"This is gonna be fun," He muses, eyes flashing wildly. He looks almost giddy, putting a hand out flat motioning for something. One of the men in the room walks forward and drops an old cell phone into his palm. Clearly, the number had already been dialed because all Kai did was press dial before it started ringing.
The dial tone rings intermittently, blaring in the silence of the room. You don't speak, you just stare right into your brother's eyes without blinking. In your current state, the best form of defiance you can give him is not being afraid, even though you have every reason to be. You are done feeling afraid, after years of paranoia, it all came true. The thoughts that kept you up at night, being hunted and attacked and taken, inevitably to be killed. You're living it now; fear will do you no good.
"Seonghwa, long time no speak buddy," Kai speaks into the microphone, his tone is coy and teasing. He dropped the phone onto the metal table after clicking it to speaker. It creates a loud clash of banging sounds. The metallic screech reverberates around the room. Despite how long it takes to quiet Seonghwa is silent for several seconds more.
"Kai," Your husband's voice replies flatly into the receiver. You're shocked to hear that Seonghwa recognizes your brother from voice alone. Kai doesn't seem surprised; in fact he cracks a grin.
"You'll never guess who I have here," Kai says in a singsong.
"Oh, I think I can. Put her on the phone." Seonghwa's voice is collected and calm, with not a hint of worry or concern in his tone. You remember that when you last spoke, he thought you were cheating on him. You hope that he figures it out and realizes who could be the only person you could ever trust as much as him is your own flesh and blood. Of course, now you know that was a mistake, Kai manipulated you to get you to lose faith in your husband, and once you trusted him, you listened to him and let him lead you right out from Ateez's watchful eye.
Kai motions for you to speak. You open your mouth on impulse, ready to call out to Seonghwa but your voice catches, words evading you. The quiet of the room is suffocating and it is on you to break it. With a great amount of effort and a very deep breath, you say the only thing you can manage.
"I'm here," your voice is still rough, and barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the air like a hot knife, breaking and building the tension at the same time. The only sound from the phone is an exhale.
"There you go Buddy, she’s alive, We can get right to our chat," Kai says, smirking like he won a prize. He leans back in his chair with a relaxed expression.
"Keep the chat to yourself, if I wanted to talk to a smug prick, I'd have called you myself."
In the absence of fear, you feel resentment. How dare Seonghwa sit there and make fucking wisecracking remarks while you're tied to fucking chair. You hate it, you hate hearing them talk, being reminded of what your husband kept from you. You asked him to spare you the gory details, not keep all of this from you just for you to find out here. Perhaps if he hadn't you would have known not to trust this man you could have turned and run the second you saw him on the hill, and Wooyoung was right there, surely if Seonghwa had met him the scrappiest member of Ateez likely had as well, he could have killed him then.
"Be careful Seonghwa, that almost sounded like a joke, you wouldn't want to make me start liking you now" But you know that's not possible even without knowing their past. You grimace, if your arm were free, you'd smack him like you did when you were kids.
"Trust me that wasn't my intention" Your husband shoots back, deadpan. You want to trust that Seonghwa knows that he's doing as he speaks. Your brother's tone is chipper, but you see the click of his jaw as he grits his teeth. Kai grins, but with his teeth still clenched he looks like he's snarling.
"Still holding that old grudge i see," Kai sneers into the phone, making it obvious he does as well. You hear Seonghwa sigh dismissively over the phone.
"You are wasting both of our time Kai, give your demands. Unless you didn't think that far ahead." Seonghwa drawls the words, he almost sounds bored. You hope that this is some kind of play because Kai's face lights with fury. You are starting to see the buttons Seonghwa is pushing, he's making the man across from you look stupid. You think that much is intentional, but he can't see Kai's face or the way it screws up in a fit of rage for a second and holds there. The seconds tick on and Kai doesn't move. With a jolt your brother slams a palm onto the metal table, sending a shock through you at the sound. Everyone in the room flinches, but Kai carries on.
"You've been making some especially shady move lately on behalf of Ateez isn't that right Seonghwa?" He asks, speaking slower, trying to force his causal tone into his voice, when something much darker bubbles beneath the surface. He doesn't wait for an answer,
"No of course not right? You and the rest of Ateez would never go breaking the rules right? Getting others involved, those not 'in the business'?" He asks the questions obviously knowing the answer so Seonghwa doesn't speak, electing to let Kai reveal how much he knows before talking.
"Those dirty politicians, the makers of the law, accepting bribes from Ateez, the biggest crime syndicate in the country. It's gonna be a headline, that's for sure, if I decide to realize it of course, but for right now while I have something you want," He trails off, looking over at you with a sinister grin, the same one you remember twisted into something evil. "I think I can ask for just about anything and you, between Ateez and the most powerful politicians in the country in your back pocket, have the means to make that happen. Am I right Seonghwa?" Kai concludes, a satisfied expression painting his face.
"What do you want." When Seonghwa speaks the words its not a question, it's a demand. This is the first time you catch a drop of emotion in his voice, he's severe and serious.
"Well, you se Seongwha, after I take back my territory, I want to bring a bit of variety to this business. Because right now, anyone trying to smuggle into the city has to go through one of your shipyards since you boys over at Ateez started paying off the foremen. But us over here? we are a classy bunch, and I think a few legal import licenses issued to my father's old legal front operation would certainly help with the business. And if a few pits of paraphernalia got mixed in? Well, accidents happen."
You can tell Kai is all too pleased with the plan he’s created. In fact, he seems almost eager to show it off to Seonghwa, like he’s trying to prove something.
"Of course, after I'm gonna come after the rest of Ateez. Don't worry I didn't forget about you." He concludes with a sneer. Its silent over the phone. When Seonghwa does speak it's not what you expected.
"Is that all? That's the best idea you could come up with?" He’s deadpan, void of and of his usual melody. If Kai had said it would have been a joke but from him, it sounds like he's scolding your brother.
"Do you want me to kill her?" Kai asks leaning over the phone and gritting his teeth.
"you're not going to kill her while you still need me for something, So I thought your demands would at least be a little more interesting." You want to scream at Seonghwa to shut up because the vein in Kai's forehead looks like its about to pop.
"Seonghwa, buddy, shut up and listen. You have 24 hours to get me those licenses while i leave with the rest of my men still working with you just because you knocked up my sister." Kai seethes over the phone, but hands white knuckling the steel table. He keeps talking, but you can't hear him. Your ears are ringing. 'Knocked up' you're pregnant. Well, how about that, on the list of things you expected to hear today that was not even on it.
Your mind flashes with images of a gurney, the IV bag, and the woman. She knew she did tests to keep you alive, and she found this.
Distantly you hear the sound of the call ending. And some kind of commotion going on across from you. It sounds like Kai is angry about something and is taking it out on the entire room. Who cares, your fucking pregnant.
"Get her back to that fucking room!" Kai screeches, pointing a finger at you then viciously out the door. He's standing now, you don't know when that happened, distantly you wonder if one of the loud sounds you heard was him throwing his chain against the wall again. His particular displays of anger are starting to lose their terror, and you can see why everyone has been so calm in the face of these meltdowns. He's like a spoiled child, and it's irritating rather than intimidating.
You let yourself be carried back to the closet, at this point only wishing to get some more sleep, the feelings and sensations of being awake are too much for you right now. Your thoughts swim with everything wrong in your world right now and the list seems endless. You hope for unconsciousness until you are traded back to your husband or killed. 'They're not going to kill me, yet' you think dully, thinking back to the words you whispered to yourself moments before you sealed your fate. You want to laugh; you didn't know how true those words would become.
-
It's been hours at least. You've been asleep, then awake, then asleep again, and now your eyes creep open for the second time. Despite having slept twice you still don't know the passage of time, it been impossible to tell from the pitch-black room and your restless sleep. Though your eyes have long since adjusted to low light. If they didn't give you real food soon, you're going to die of that before whatever horror Kai comes up with.
Maybe that means it hasn’t yet been 24 hours since the phone call. Kai had said something about 24 hours, some kind of threat, you hadn't cared to hear the rest of it. You'd find out soon enough. If it hasn't passed yet it must be nearing the deadline.
It felt like minutes later, but you had no way of knowing. When the door finally creaked open and Kai slinked into the room, his face was screwed up in a vile kind of concentration. You had seen his eyes countless times yet never like this, with something so dark in his eyes. He doesn't look happy, there's distaste in his features that you can see. You don't know what he is planning to do, so when he moves across the small space, encroaching in the small personal space you have you instinctively push back and away. You can't do much more than glare at him with all the hate in your heart and try to maintain your composure. Distantly you hear a loud crash echo through whatever building you're in, but Kai doesn't seem to notice.
Kai looms over you, bending at the wait. You wonder how he can even see you in the pitch-black room because he hasn't had time to adjust to the low light like you. But still, he leers over you, as if considering you, almost debating. You wonder if he even realizes that you can read his expression clearly despite the darkness.
"Hey Sunshine," Kai almost whispers into the darkness. The nickname aches. It sounds just like him, it feels like mourning your dead brother all over again even though he stands before you. You want to claw him, rip for nails down his face. But that wouldn't be enough to stop whatever it is he's planning. You don't respond. You don't even know if you could speak now. You've barely used for voice these past hours and you're sure it would only break.
"Silent treatment? You haven't done that since you were a kid." Kai says with a malicious smile, trying to get a reaction from you. You remain unresponsive. Kai lets out a breathy laugh, straightening up.
"Thats fine, stay silent, for as long as you can anyway. I have a feeling that once I'm done here your screaming will be heard down the hall."
He's crossing his arms, pleased with his retort and himself. It's hard to feel threatened when you've been in constant danger for months, but you have a feeling you should be more scared than you are. But you just can't manage that emotion, or any really. You just hope that whatever torture Kai has in store for you will be over quickly, so you can escape back into unconsciousness away from the nightmare you find yourself in. The distant noises seem to be growing louder as they roll down the hall.
Kai reaches behind him, into the waistband of his pants. From there he pulls something large and metal. It takes you a moment to place it, but you realize its bolt cutters, and the blade is sharp. He lifts them up, as if to show them off to you, turning them in his hands. Your stomach twists at the sight and you can't help but pull yourself deeper into the corner. You felt a bit of bile rising from your empty stomach at all the ways the tool can be used to hurt you even more.
"I had hoped Seonghwa would have just complied with my demands before it came to this." He says with a sigh, turning the cutters in his hand.
"I'm not going to enjoy this, and I think your husband knows that. He's always been infuriatingly perceptive; I don't know how you stand it." Kai's voice shakes slightly at the last words. "But if he thought that would be enough to save your fingers, he was wrong, maybe he isn't as perceptive as I thought."
You feel yourself start to shake. Your hands instinctively wring themselves in your lap. Suddenly the bolt cutters seemed much larger, and the blade sharper. The image of the blades cutting through your skin and bone made your skin crawl, and if your stomach had any contents to empty, you would have vomited.
"Or maybe he cares about you less than I thought."
His words drift through your ears. But at the same time, you hear distant noises but not so distant anymore. You heard a constant stream of bangs and voices, for now still far, but close enough to hear them shouting. Your head swivels to the door, of course, it blocks whatever is going on from you view. You imagine Kai's men preparing another attack on Ateez cities, the bangs being a cart of supplies rolling up and down the uneven floor and the voices barking orders. But no, it's too loud to be that.
Kai's arm shoots out, grabbing you by the neck. Instantly your air is gone, and you choke on the breath in your throat. He pulls you up slightly by your neck, forcing you to look at him. Your hands fly to his wrist, pulling and struggling against his hands but they do not budge.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I not entertaining enough for you?" He growls, his eyes alight with sick anger. It's like he can't hear the growing commotion outside the door. He holds you there, depriving you of oxygen with every passing second, his grip hard enough to leave indents on your neck. He waits as if waiting for a response, but you have no air to speak. Your eyes start to water, and your vision begins to blur when he finally releases you. You fall back into your corner and gasp for air.
"I'm done being nice, let’s get this shit over with."
Kai's and shoots out again, this time taking your wrist. He pulls your body from the corner and without your hand to balance yourself you fall in a heap on the floor. You are disoriented and terrified, when your eyes focus Kai is brandishing the bolt cutters, bringing them to your hand. You can't help it now; you start to scream. Your vocal cords feel like they're ripping to shreds as you scream, but you can't stop. You screw your eyes shut, as if being unable to see the cutters will stop them from cutting through your skin.
While you scream, you wait, wait for the unimaginable pain. But then again, you expected it to come by now, where is it? Your eyes crack open, but they are forced closed again by blinding light. Light? How?
Again, you crack your eyes, this time anticipating the light, but after hours in complete darkness, they take a long time to adjust. You feel the grip on your wrist drop. Automatically your body slumps to the floor on your back in relief, but that feeling is only multiplied by thousands a moment later.
"Someone get Seonghwa! I found her and the brother!"
It's at that moment that you can finally see again. And before you stands none other than Wooyoung. Silhouetted against the light from the hallway, a gun raised to Kai's temple. Kai is frozen in what can only be shock. Obviously, he had not predicted this outcome. To think that the noises you heard were the sounds of Ateez storming whatever facility you were kept, faintly your mind wondered how they even found the place.
But your mind can't hold the thought. As soon as your body and mind fully come to terms with the fact you've been saved you no longer want to think, instead you try and catch your breath. Your eyes can't help but stay fixed on Wooyoung at the door, unwilling to look at Kai again. He looks stern, his expression betraying nothing but malice, and maybe disgust. But his eyes are not as fixed on Kai as his gun.
Every few moments his gaze falls to you on the floor. You see him scan your body for injury, assessing your physical condition. What that condition is, even you don't know. You know your body must be battered and bruised, but you've been in pain for so long. You've gone numb to, based on Wooyoung's concerned glances, more bruises than you can count after being dragged and thrown about and beaten while here.
What is taking Seonghwa so long?
As if summoned by your thoughts, with the door open you can hear the sound of feet pounding down the hall at a rapid pace, you know it can only be him. You brace yourself to see him again, and your face twists in both guilt and anger when you remember the last words you said to one another. But as soon as he appears in the doorway all those thoughts leave you.
He's been shot. You can tell from the crimson leaking through his pressed white shirt. With horror, you realize that the bullet must have only just missed his heart, as the blood flows from right above where it sits. You wonder which of the bangs you heard in the commotion caused this. But he stands upright and alert as if there wasn't a gaping wound in his chest.
You expect to feel enraged, even resentful to him. After all, he had promised. He promised that this would never happen, and he had taken away your only chance to defend yourself that night. But you knew you weren't blameless in this either. You both had made so many mistakes that led you here. His eyes were locked onto yours from the moment he appeared, to your surprise he wore his expression proudly instead of hiding it. He looked despondent and slightly ashamed, but you see something brighter there too, and you feel it as well. Relief.
As soon as Seonghwa appears, Wooyoung lifts his leg to kick Kai in the chest. The man collapses the rest of the way to the floor, and you can hear the thud when he hits the concrete. Wooyoung then reaches out grabs the back of Kai's collar and drags him from the room. For the first time, Kai makes a sound, and it's a pitiful wheeze.
And then it's just you and your husband.
You want to move and stand on your own feet, but you can't. And you don't need to. Seonghwa sinks to his knees on the floor next to you, you feel his hand come up to softly cup your face and your eyes stream with tears at the touch.
"I.... I-i" Seonghwa tries to start, but he seems to be at a loss for words. Even with tears filling your eyes you exhale a laugh.
"Yeah, I know." You respond, stopping his attempts to force words. Because you do. You remember the anger you expected to come that never did, and you imagine Seonghwa had expectations of his own on what he was going to say when he found you. But if there is anything you've learned these past few years, it's that your expectations are often wrong.
Seonghwa carefully as if you were made of glass, helps you to a sitting position. You see him from the corner of your eye, flinching at every sharp intake of breath when your movements hurt your broken body. Seonghwa leans your weight against his own, allowing your body to rest against his side while you sit. You try to protest.
"Seonghwa, no, you've been shot" You try to reason, but it falls on deaf ears. He lets out a bitter laugh. His face, which could be so soft and yet so sharp has never looked more vulnerable, and his dark hair falls in front of his eyes.
"Darling, while I appreciate the concern, it’s laughable given the state your in."
You roll your eyes a bit, but you can't help but smile, hearing his voice was as soothing to your pain as any medicine.
"We'll call it even."
-
When You two stand and make your way into the hall there are already Ateez men and police officers stationed on either end of a ruined empty hallway. It stuns you to see how quickly the battle was won, but from the sound of it, it was a complete surprise. Seonghwa wrapped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you close, almost using you as a crutch, not that you mind. He leads you down the hall and when you turn it becomes clear how it was done. He leads you through a set of faded blue double doors that open out onto a steel walkway overlooking an abandoned factory floor. The old, ruined machines piled to the side to make way for the rest of the scene.
The large garage doors at the far end of the large brick space and outside you can see what looks to be hundreds of police, SWAT officers, and surely some of Ateez's own men surrounding the building. In the center of the concrete floor, there are about 50 of the deserters bound and gagged, seemingly waiting for arrest. They are lined up close to the garage doors.
Closer to you, there are sheets covering large swaths of the dirty floor. Your stomach lurches, knowing what is underneath. Seonghwa leads you both down the short metal steps to the floor, through a row of sheets to the very center of the massive room. Here the rest of Ateez stands, all surrounding Kai who is bound and gagged the same as his men already sporting black eyes On the ground next to him is Joongki's corpse, with no sheet to cover him. You deduce the deal Seonghwa made with the politicians, they work together to take down the thorn in Seonghwa’s side. The police take credit for arresting 50 wanted criminals in one fell swoop and Ateez gets Kai, to do with as they please.
Seonghwa releases your shoulder with a firm squeeze and an even firmer look. 'Stay put' his eyes say you know he is telling you to stay here next to Yunho. But, you have no intention of stopping him. Seonghwa turns and Hongjoong, who is standing between Kai and the corpse, he holds out a handgun by the barrel for Seonghwa to take. Seonghwa crosses the space in two long steps and takes the gun from his boss's grip. He looks down at the man looking up at him with pleading eyes. Seonghwa scoffs, raising the weapon in the air before bringing the butt down across Kai's face. Kai gasps in pain and then chokes. He opens his mouth perhaps to beg, but instead, he makes a croaking noise.
"Your mistake Kai is simple; it was thinking you could beat us in this game. You thought that you were a threat when you were nothing more than a nuisance." Seonghwa spits the words with ice cold furry, he is unforgiving and unrelenting as he leans over the battered man.
"You should have known from the first time you heard I'd made deals with politicians that you had lost. That it was only a matter of time before we had the resources to storm this place, as if we hadn't already figured out where you were hiding. The only thing stopping us was a lack of manpower because of you stirring up rebellion. I don't like those people, in their ivory fucking castles thinking that because they make the law, they're above it. But I've always been more than willing to put my morals aside." Seonghwa was hunched over Kai despite the bullet wound still draining blood.
"Your father knew it too. He tried to show you were too arrogant, and flippant, that unless you learned consequences you blunder yourself into an early grave,"
"I am going to deliver you to him," Seonghwa speaks the words with finality. With his dark hair falling loosely around his face and his grim expression, almost sober, you're sure that from Kai's glossy eyes, he looks like the grim reaper come to call. You don't feel sad for him, you buried your brother 3 years ago.
You're not happy to watch him die, but still, you do. You watch as Seonghwa straightens up and lifts his arm, aiming the gun point blank. You know that even this is a small kindness to the man, killing him now, instead of making him pay more thoroughly, you suppose that's probably for your sake not his.
When the shot rings you don't feel any better, but you certainly can't say you feel any worse.
-
"So, you knew him the whole time."
Your words rang in the vast space of the VIP room at the hospital. Rooms like these are saved for presidents, CEOs, and you. The luxury of the room was making it hard to feel comfortable, your IV bag stood out against the warm wood of the walls. The space would be big enough to host a small party, as it contained a fully carpeted seating area with plush couches, decorative plants, idyllic paintings, and even a glass chandelier. It should feel comforting to be back in a world of care a splendor, make you feel like the last two days had been some sick freak nightmare. But didn't, the only thing offering you the slightest bit of comfort was Seonghwa's warm hand in yours
"Yes," He replied calmly. Not the same empty calm as he was over the phone, but something kinder, it was the voice he used at home.
To his credit, Seonghwa seems to have lost all the suspicion and anger he felt towards you the last time you were face to face, just as you have. But you can’t help but wonder, just how many steps ahead he had been, not just to Kai, but to you as well.
“How long did you know he was alive?”
“Not long,” Seonghwa’s voice sounds slightly choked, he’s staring at you, waiting for you to unleash your anger on him. You can almost see your fight playing over and over again in his glassy eyes. You sigh, wishing Seonghwa would stop looking so God damn guilty. You want to reach your hand to his face, and ease some of the worry, but his grip on your palm is tight, unwilling to let you go.
“If I had known-“He starts, and you can already hear the impending apology on his lips, the resignation and desperation dripped into his words. You cut him off,
“I could have told you, but I didn’t.” You don’t say this out of guilt, and Seonghwa already knew that fact anyway. But you said it to remind him that you are just as much to blame. Seonghwa swallows his words. His brow furrows, and you can tell he feels responsible for the pain you’re feeling, and you doubt no matter how much you try and convince him otherwise his opinion won’t change.
"Why not tell me? That you knew him" You carry on, asking the question that you’ve been dying to know since this all began.
"I was going to talk to you about him initially, but it didn't take me long to realize you were unaware of what he was. I did not want to burden you with the knowledge of the kind of man your brother was, especially so soon after his death. So, I kept it to myself." Seonghwa replied without hesitation as if to prove how honest he intended to be.
You couldn't even really fault him for that. How could Seonghwa have known he would have needed to break my already broken heart back then in order to prevent this trauma in the now? He couldn't have, it's as simple as that. But it's been 3 years since then.
"Were you ever going to tell me?" You don't let any hint of accusation seep in, though his answer to this question could hurt you. But you're not concerned, because you didn't doubt what he would say.
"Yes, I did,"
You could tell Seonghwa felt guilty, you could see it in the subtle twitch of his lips down as he said the word, trying to keep a frown from his face. You could see it in his eyes waiting for your anger, yet continuously being surprised when he did not see it.
You sigh at him, leaning back onto the softest hospital cushions you've ever felt that were propped up against the inclined bed. You took the time to really look at him. He too looked older than the last time you saw him, his hair is longer too, it just brushes past his browbone, and you know soon it will be long enough to brush from his eyes. And his eyes, they were usually so bright and alive, now they had deep dark circles. He looked defeated, despite having won.
"I'm not angry with you Seonghwa," You say serenely, flipping your held hands to run your thumb over his bruised knuckles. Seonghwa huffs, shaking his head and breaking your gaze.
"You should be." He grits through his teeth.
"Are you angry with me?"
At that Seonghwa's head shot up in surprise, he looked so genuinely confused for a moment.
"No-no?!" He replies so quickly, almost urgently, that he stutters on the word. He was still so confused it came out as a question. You laugh at his face and at the stutter, it's not often you can fluster Seonghwa, and you appreciate the chance while you have it. Seonghwa's confusion morphs into general bewilderment as if wondering what's gotten into you. You shake your head and even your breath with a smile.
"Seonghwa, the truth is you have every right to be as mad at me as I do for you. In fact, we made many of the same mistakes, I hid Kai from you as well, and I let myself lose trust in you too." Seonghwa flinches at that last line, stewing in his memory of the words he had thrown at you. But you can't help but think accusing you of cheating after finding you drunk with another man, is not the farthest jump anyone could have made even if it had been so hurtful at the time.
"So, if you're not mad and me then I'm not mad at you." You’re sincere in your words, and even Seonghwa must relent to them after another moment of hesitation. But he can't force you to be angry with him. You both were far too spent and have had far too many conflicting emotions over the past hours. Love is comforting, and healing, you both needed these desperately.
You lean down to where he sits by your side and kiss him. It's a soft and gentle dance of lips, not driven by need or desire, just great affection, and love. You had taken a chance on this man 3 years ago, a leap of faith into his arms that led you here. It hadn't been a pleasant road necessarily, but you couldn't regret it since it led you here. Safe again, finally, with your husband who you love and loves you in return. You break the kiss as slowly as you start it, laying a hand on your stomach.
"So, what are we going to do about this?"
-
Very long authors note if you’re curious
Aha! Here it is, my magnum opus. I’ve arisen from the ashes on inactivity for this last parting gift.
I know I previously called LADEVOTEE (and I did love writing that) but let’s me real here, this series is probably the most popular and lasting thing I’ve posted on here I have received a lot of support and encouragement not only this series, but on my posted works as a whole which continues to surprise me.
Writing fan fiction believe it or not was alway been more about writing and storytelling than it ever was about kpop and I only wrote smut cuz it’s more engaging, I’m Ngl I’m really not involved in the kpop fandom anymore (though I still saw Ateez in concert last year)
I’ll be honest I never plan of being fully active on here again, it’s been years and I got different shit going on but hey never say never, I’ll probably still post from time to time.
P.s i am curious to know if anyone guessed the plot twist? Cuz like I was trying to drop hints but also I really wanted it to be a surprise
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koisuko · 9 months
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Based on a dream:
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Tw: angst, gn reader, mentions of blood, established relationship
“Ghost!” Your voice left your lips in nothing more than a whisper. The name echoing in the foggy nothingness surrounding you, reaching nobody's ears but your own. The space seemed obscured, a strange bluish tint, subtle but still noticeable with a careful eye. The nightlife you would expect seemed dead silent, furthering the unease you already felt. Regardless, you kept running. Your feet thumping against the wet grass beneath you, pumping your legs as fast as you could until the muscles burned and ached. The air in your lungs felt like fire with each heavy breath. Something lingered behind you, looming over your shoulder with the promise of harm. You don’t know what, or who, you were running from, but you know where you were running to. Keep going. Don’t stop, there will be a way, you thought.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of repeating scenery, you reached the lawn of a familiar homestead. Only taking a split second of a break before running again, tears streaming down your cheeks with each shaky breath in. Strangely enough, the heavy fog still blanketed the area, not once fading except to reveal the house you came across. It almost felt like running on a treadmill, hardly able to discern whether you were going forward or back.
You reached the porch of the small home, taking a breath at the stairs before once again pleading for an answer, “Ghost!” Nothing. All hope is leaking away in an open wound in your heart. Until suddenly, the familiar footsteps approached rapidly. Bursting through the door, he stood, looking off with wide eyes to the darkened woods around him. “Ghost, I found you!” It felt like a chore to speak, your voice coming out weaker than intended. He looked different, his eyes heavy with melancholy and lips plastered with a permanent frown. Bags of sleepless nights accumulated under his eyes, stubble covering his usually smooth jaw. Slowly, you moved to wrap your arms around his waist in a tender embrace. Touching him felt…different, vacant and cold. You sat there for a moment, holding him tight, yet he never reciprocated. Instead, you felt him shiver in your hold, goosebumps rising on his exposed skin. A quivered sigh left his lips, compelling you to lift your head from his chest and meet the gaze of those deep brown pools you love so much. As you did, you were caught off guard by the fact that he wasn’t looking at you. More like, he was looking past you, beyond your figure to the landscape behind you. Cranking your head, you looked to where he seemed to peer longingly, only to see nothing peculiar that caught your attention. “What’s wrong, love?” You asked, your voice was smooth and sweet, a voice you only used with him, your beloved. Nothing. He gave you no response as he turned to leave back inside. Did you do something wrong?
You followed behind him, your brows knitting together in concern of his odd behavior. He may be distant to many, but never has he blatantly ignored you. The thick fog from outside seemed to leak into the house. You found it odd, unnerving even, but focused your attention back to your husband. You watched him move to sit on the floor of the kitchen, leaning his back against the cabinets. His head fell forward, eyes closed presumably in deep thought. “Honey, talk to me.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you sat beside him.
You two often did this, sitting beside each other on the kitchen floor, talking for hours on end about shit no one else cared to listen to. It was your favorite pastime, your favorite activity after a hard day. He always gave you his undivided attention, dedicating his time to lending you an ear when everyone else brushed your words off like dust.
Once again, you were met with silence. However, you refused to give up. This wasn’t unusual for him, some days he felt no need to speak, or he was too exhausted to communicate. So, instead of pinning it on him as some form of punishment, you held patience and understanding. “Is there anything I can do?” You uttered, “I can make you some te-“ your words were cut short by his raspy voice beside you, “I miss you..so fucking much.” His voice was broken, a subtle sign of his deepest emotions that was all too foreign to anyone in his life but you. The way he spoke sounded more like a prayer to no one than a statement directly to you. You turned to look at him again, taken aback by the tears streaming down his face, painting his features in a somber display. You realized now, seeing him under the light of the kitchen, that he looked like a broken version of the man you once knew. What had you missed in the short time you were gone?
Truthfully, you don’t remember anything past waking up in the woods. What had happened to you was entirely unknown to you. You decided not to think too deep on it, focusing on the depressing man before you. “Simon,” you gingerly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “I’m right here, no need to miss me anymore.” He made no attempt to lift his head, his shoulders continued to shake with the sobs racking his body. You moved to place a finger under his chin, in an attempt to lift his gaze to meet your own, only for him to refuse to budge. Almost like attempting to rearrange a statue with your bare hands. This struck you, what did you do to hurt him? He’s never resisted your comfort, despite being a man of few words and an aversion to physical touch. Your mind spiraled slightly, and in an attempt to center yourself, you lowered your lips to his. Curious, it felt more like kissing someone in a dream, tingly and distant, as if your lips never actually connected. Your heart broke as his lips remained fastened in place. You leaned back, tears welling in your eyes as you glanced at him once again. His right hand held the necklace tight around his neck, his head lifting slightly to rest against the cabinets.
The necklace, the one he gave you on your second anniversary. Instinctively, you brought your hand to your neck where that necklace once was, only to find a vacant space of bare skin. He clutched it tighter before speaking, “it should have been me,” he muttered in a voice so heartbreaking. Then, it hit you. The memories came flooding into your mind like a tsunami. The forest, a man, bleeding on the cold forest floor at the dead of night. You were running from him, yet that wound you remember so vaguely seemed to be non-existent.
You stumbled back, landing on your backside as you scoot away in a frantic attempt to collect yourself. It all made sense now. The fog, the endless abyss surrounding you, the echo of your voice into nothingness, how he treated you like you weren’t even there. All this time, it was already too late.
You were already dead.
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gvozdoder · 2 months
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sunday (and some lore)
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sooo.... i got inspired by yaelokre and their whole forest medieval vibe, i loved it.
aaaand i decided to make an hsr au.
the story takes place in a small village deep in the dark woods. the life there is hard, and the only thing that keeps people from giving up is their belief in ena.
the folks of the village are mostly humans, but there are some halovians too. and they sacrifice halovians to get ena's blessing.
sunday and his sister robin were raised by gopher wood (in this au he's a human and he's the head of the village). while sunday never questioned their religion, robin, on the other hand, was not so sure if she truly believed in ena. "if ena wants us to be happy and live in order, why would she want us dead?" she often questions, only receiving amused stares of the adults. "you're too young, you don't understand it yet" they all say.
and sunday agrees. "i don't understand anything, so i should listen to father and follow his path" he tells himself.
that was until the siblings turned eighteen. on their birthday (they are the same age here) robin was sacrificed by the villagers.
sunday has never been this terrified watching the ritual. as the fragile body of his beloved sister stopped breathing, he felt dread for the first time in his life.
and then he ran. he ran before they could catch him, because he knew that he must be next. he was supposed to go after his sister.
he's a coward. how could he have left his sister there? why didn't he help her? no, no, the ritual shall not be questioned... he should've stayed there. he should've accepted his fate too, so that ena would meet them both in heaven, but... why was he so terrified? isn't that what he was waiting for his whole life?
"it hurts it hurts IT HURTS! BROTHER, RUN!" the screams of his sister are repeating over and over and over-...
and then he hears some noise in the bushes near him. a guy with strange eyes ("must be a demon, surely!") and golden hair appears.
eeehhh.... yeah, this is a sunturine au.
pls give me ideas if you want to, cus i think that sunday's design here is kinda cute, so i want to add more interesting stuff to my au.
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spacebarbarianweird · 9 months
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Ooh how about a Ranger!Tav who hunts undead (like Vampire Lords 👀) x Astarion?
This is the ultimate monster-hunting duo! Though, Rangers are known to be a bit lame in DnD. If it isn't their favored terrain or favored enemy - they are fucked up.
And Tumblr ate the first rough draft, which caused me some psychic damage.
What if Ranger!Tav is a member of some party of heroes, like "Vox Maquina"? And just can't wait to reunite with their former companions?
Masterlist
Headcanons
Astarion x Ranger!Tav
You never had a chance to talk about your future together. It's not like any of you expected to survive and not be turned into Mindflayers.
When Astarion runs away from the sun, you rush to find him but lose track.
Cities aren't your favored terrain.
Astarion returns to the Elfsong Tavern three days later - he looks like a beaten stray cat.
You cuss him. Use all the known slurs.
Why didn't he come back the first day? Why did he disappear?
You thought he'd died! Burnt to ashes!
He is shocked. 
He has never thought his actions could hurt you. He thought you would be better without him.
You drag Astarion to the bathroom, and, while helping him scrub himself, you finally start talking about your own past.
Something you never really mentioned before.
You have home.
Rather a home base but still home
You have a family.
Rather, a group of weirdos who happened to meet each other years ago and call themselves the Brotherhood of Shadows.
Yes, the name was chosen by a Bard. No one had better suggestions, but you know it's stupid.
There is also a Fighter, a Bard, a Cleric, and a Sorcerer. Together you hunt monsters, bad guys, and protect the common people.
You know, eat the rich and distribute their money among the poor.
And you are coming back.
Astarion is hesitant. He isn't ready to share you. And what if those friends of yours won't accept him?
What if years of friendship are a counterweight to this month of passionate love?
They are monster hunters! Monster hunters don't accept monsters at their homes.
What if one of them is in love with you?
But you still ask him to give it a try.
Astarion prays to all the gods to make the journey as long as possible. 
Deep within, he knows he will lose you.
Suddenly, he notices a raven, circling above you.
"Black Death!" you exclaim, stretching out your hand. 
"It's my pet raven, Black Death. Black Death, this is Astarion".
"Death, death, death," repeats the raven, staring at Astarion.
Then the raven soared into the sky and disappeared.
The next day a Half-Orc Sorcerer rushes toward you, yelling "Tav! Tav is that really you?!"
Astarion stands aside, feeling like a fifth wheel, while you and your old friend share news.
"Listen about this man with me…"
"A vampire? So, you've rejected all the men who ever dared to approach you, including myself, and found yourself a vampire?" 
Astarion feels a wave of anger. He already doesn't like your friends.
But the next moment, the Half-Orc stands in front of him, friendly insisting on joining the Brotherhood.
"Besides, I can't believe there have been so many wild bloodsuckers in these woods. It's good to have a vampire of your own to deal with them, am I right?"
Apparently, no one objects to a vampire in their small army of weirdos.
Or maybe they love Tav so much they are ready to accept anyone she brings along.
"Sign me up for the next Mindflayer's attack. I want to get a man, too!" the Cleric jokes.
Astarion sleeps in your room. When the Brotherhood leaves at daylight, Astarion stays to keep an eye on the homebase.
And he talks to possible contractors, demanding to be paid more than they expect.
He is insufferable in the best meaning of this word.
Astarion makes friends.
He often talks about magic and history with the Sorcerer. Or arguing with the Bard ( they have so much in common it pisses them both off)
Astarion feels at home. He has family, he has friends, he has a person to love and hold.
Even Black Death accepts him as his master, though Astarion isn't always capable of communicating with the bird.
Often, you go on night walks together into the woods, an, since you are both horny as nine hells, it often ends not as expected.
You are switches - both hunters and both prey.
Sometimes Astarion "hunts" you - a murderous vampire chasing a helpless Ranger to subdue to his power and hunger.
Then it's your turn - you are a monster hunter, and no vampire has ever escaped you.
Even the Bard calls you freaks when you return at sunset both covered in dirt (and, probably, other fluids under your clothes).
Astarion cares about you deeply - always making sure you are healed before you embark on another adventure.
And he is the one who nurtures you if you are sick or wounded.
He likes being a hero. He likes being a caregiver, both roles he once despised. 
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati
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