#and because him and others vouch for her to be one
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hees-mine · 2 days ago
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Birthday girl - L. Heeseung
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Pairing: heeseung X fem reader
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, multiple orgasms, cursing, stepcest, daddy kink, dirty talk, cheating.
Genre: 18+, stepcest.
Word count: 2k+
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“Mom, just one, please. I promise it’ll only be one.” It was your 21st birthday, and you celebrated in the kitchen with your mom and your stepdad as you begged her to let you have your first shot on the day you officially turned 21.
“No, I never had a shot at 21,” she simply answers, turning away from you and putting away the leftover cake she had your stepdad buy from the store cause she apparently couldn’t be bothered to get one for you herself.
“Mom, come on, that’s not fair!” You whined. “I’m literally an adult,” you reasoned.
“And you’re literally under my roof,” she replies back nonchalantly like she always does. You hated it when she acted like this.
She would always hold things over your head: no sleepovers, no parties, no boyfriends, no nothing, and it’s not cause she was looking out for you. It’s cause she was jealous of you.
She always told you how she never got to have any of those things, and now you can’t shake the feeling that even though she never directly said it to you, you feel like she’s taking it out on her only daughter, which just isn’t fair.
“Dad!” You turned to heeseung your stepdad, looking for his approval, and he gave you the tiniest hint of a smile while folding his arms and resting against the kitchen counter.
You and your stepdad had a much better relationship than you and your mother, unlike her. He seemed to actually care about you, which is comical cause he wasn’t even your real dad, and he treated you better than your mom ever did.
He’d always vouch for you, defend you when arguments got too heated, and he never made you feel like you were always in the wrong, unlike your mother did.
His care for you did go a lot further than just how a stepdad would care for their stepchild because his hugs would last a couple of seconds too long. His kisses on the cheek were a little too affectionate, and he'd eye you when you wore revealing outfits a bit too much.
You didn't mind, though. You did it on purpose cause you liked the attention. He wasn't your real dad, and besides, you had met him so late in your life that you were already fully grown, and you didn't even see him as a father figure at all.
Dad never even crossed your mind when you thought about him. All you saw was a very attractive man, and you wondered how your strict, bitter mother landed a gem like him.
“You heard your mom.” he swipes the cake as your mom sets it in the fridge and licks the frosting off his fingertip, humming at the sweet taste. “Now go upstairs and get ready for bed, young lady.”
You rolled your eyes and did as he said. You thought he’d vouch for you this time, too, but apparently not.
Little did you know he had other plans up his sleeve. He only said no to you cause he was not about to start a fight with his wife over you taking one measly shot, especially since it was your birthday.
His wife always had a way of making things about her just cause she didn’t get a shot at 21. Why couldn’t you? If he didn’t know any better, he’d say his wife was jealous of her own daughter, and if he’s being honest, it was kinda getting on his nerves the way she’d bitch at you all the time for virtually nothing.
When he married her, she was not like that at all, but once he moved in and you all became family, the whole dynamic changed. She paid more attention to scolding you than him.
He wasn’t needy necessarily, but he did get lonely sometimes, especially in the bedroom, and heeseung noticed that you talked to him more than his own wife.
Which resulted in him developing maybe not a crush but a certain attraction to you, and to his luck, it was mutual between the two of you, considering all the shameless flirting you did back and forth.
At first, he felt a bit guilty, but with the way he was feeling in his marriage, he might as well have been single. He’s not excusing his actions, but he definitely doesn’t care or feel any shame in checking you out from head to toe on a daily basis.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t spill his load in his palm once or twice at the thought of you.
How could he not when you’d purposefully bend over in front of him pretending that you dropped something or the way you’d push your chest against his whenever you’d hug?
You had already gotten ready for bed, sulking a bit as you leaned against the bed frame, scrolling on your phone.
Heeseung had joined his wife upstairs, lying next to her and sharing a quiet goodnight before they turned off the bedside lamps.
It was always like this: completely silent, no conversation, no talking about the day, no intimacy, absolutely nothing.
Even if he did try to talk, she’d always say she was stressed or tired.
Another one of the reasons Heeseung didn’t feel guilty for having feelings toward you was that you gave him the time of day.
He sighs putting his hands behind his head and staring at the celling finally after an hour passed his wife was fast asleep so he silently slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen where the cupboard was located pulling out a bottle of liquor one he bought expressly for you cause you had been going on all week about wanting to take a shot on your 21st.
He snuck over to your room, knocking on it softly, knowing you’d still be up. You were always up late.
You sighed and got out of bed tossing your blanket to the side and ripping open the door ready to be faced with your mom and some more of her shenanigans. “Wha-“ you stopped mid-way through, shocked to see that it was actually your stepdad instead, and you were pleasantly surprised to see he was in nothing but his underwear and a shirt.
“Hey,” he laughs softly, waving a bottle of liquor in your face along with two shot glasses.
“H-hi,” you smile upon seeing the bottle.
“Are you gonna let me in? Or are you gonna wait for your mom to catch us?” He smirks and you open the door further to let him in…
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scrambledsun · 21 hours ago
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Mouthwashing au! So I enjoyed playing the game, and I'm enjoying the Fandom very much. Recently, I had an idea for a au. In this au Jimmy's like "fuck it is deserve to live more than anyone else" and takes the cryogenic pod for himself after he kills curly considering it his "mercy" and he gets rescued after 10 years later. He gives the investigators the story he wants and walks free.
And this is where it becomes apparent that jimmy, though he won't admit it, was severely reliant on curly. For one, Jimmy is naturally rather unlikable and without curly to defend him more often than not he gets his as kicked. He can't find a good job because once again, there's no curly to vouch for him.
And its not like he can use the money he got as compensation from pony express can help him. For one it wasn't very much to begin with. The already bankrupt company having paid the grieving families five years prior to Jimmy's unexpected return. They didn't account for his return. So when he did arrive it had came out of the founder's nearly empty pocket. And he'd already used a good chunk on medical bills as, surprise surprise, the cryo pods were shit, so he had to have one of his feet removed. And no disability for him isn't shit so more often than not he's living pay check to pay check.
And believe it or not, that's not the worst thing for him. No it would be the sins of his past haunting the fuck out of him at night. And no amount of drugs or alcohol help. For example: imagine him lying in bed, eyelids heavy with exhausten from his shitty job, drifting to dreamland, only to hear abrupt gunshots so loud they cause him to toss himself out of bed on to his dirty floor and leave his ears ringing for hours after. Or maybe he is trying to sleep again, feeling hopeful that now he'll get some desperately needed shut eye. Only to hear loud disgusting choking sounds that can't be blocked out no matter what he uses to cover his ears. It leaves he paralyzed in bed out of fear because last time when he rolled over to try and find where the sound came from, he was face to face and eyes to eye with the face of curly. He stopped sleeping in his bed for a while after that
Other times, he'll hear Swansea screaming his name out of anger, rapid heavy footsteps coming his way. Other times, he'll see anya in any type of reflective surfaces bleeding from he mouth and nose with her eyes rolled back. And sometimes he'll catch a glistening eye staring down on him from his dusty vents with blood dripping down and cries of pain coming from it.
He is being haunted at night and at his apartment. There's no one he can talk about this to for fear of incriminating himself. it's been the reason he's lost several jobs already. He's the mental case everyone avoids and pitys from a distance. He is alone with his thoughts and loyal crew. It's like a haunted au, but with a twist, I'll reveal later. Let me hear if there's anything thing you'd add to it!
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hatsbattlecats · 7 months ago
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Thanking about how much change or has the potential to change in the WC timeline happens just by moving around or entirely removing even one character
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sunni-stuff · 5 months ago
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HEYY so I was wondering if you could make a small story about Simon x New!Medic!Reader and getting interested by her because she managed to punch the daylights out of a soldier that was bothering her. And maybe out of interest getting to know each other better *wink* *wink* 😏😏
Eye-catching
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Of course, he noticed you. Ghost noticed everything.
You, the shiny new recruit, brought a buzz to the force that was hard to ignore.
When Price first mentioned you, Ghost had snorted dismissively at your file. Price was adamant about your potential, swearing by the renowned doctor who had trained you and recounting your impressive handiwork he'd witnessed firsthand. Price only picked the best.
But Ghost had his reservations. In his eyes, your lack of field experience was a glaring flaw. Still, it wasn't his call to make. If Price vouched for you, Ghost would reserve judgment.
Your arrival on the base was met with indifference from Ghost. He barely acknowledged your polite "hello's" and attempts to connect. You weren't the Cap'n, and you certainly weren't Soap, who, for some unfathomable reason, couldn't stop singing your praises.
Since day one, Soap had been relentless. In the mess hall, he went on about how sweet you were and how Ghost should at least introduce himself properly—after all, you were teammates. If that wasn't enough, when Gaz got injured on a mission, you stitched him up with such skill that he barely felt any pain. Gaz, too, joined the chorus of your admirers, extolling your expert skills as a medic.
It seemed everyone on the team adored you, speaking of you as if you were a miracle worker. To Ghost, you were just a decent medic at best; he saw nothing worth bragging about.
How wrong he was.
About a month after your arrival, Ghost injured his shoulder sparring with Soap. He'd really messed it up, the strain and tension becoming a constant burden. He tried to push through it, gritting his teeth and refusing to let a mere shoulder injury slow him down. For a week, he endured, hissing in pain as he lifted weights, struggling with loads he would usually handle effortlessly. Stubborn as ever, he refused to visit the med bay.
This went on until the following week when Soap, unable to take it any longer, practically scolded the lieutenant for his hard-headedness and dragged him to the medic bay himself.
You were already in the middle of organizing supplies when Soap and Ghost walked in. Ghost, begrudgingly being led, looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. Soap's face lit up when he saw you, and he immediately started talking about Ghost's shoulder, explaining the situation while Ghost stood there, a grimace on his masked face.
You turned around, offering a warm smile despite Ghost's obvious displeasure. "Lieutenant," you greeted him politely, "why don't you have a seat, and I'll take a look at that shoulder."
Ghost hesitated but finally gave in, taking a seat on the examination table. Soap, satisfied with his handiwork, gave you a quick pat on the shoulder before leaving you to your work.
The room was quiet as you began your examination, your hands gentle but firm as you checked for any signs of injury. Ghost watched you with a mix of skepticism and curiosity, trying to gauge whether you were as good as everyone said.
"Looks like you pulled a muscle pretty badly," you said after a few minutes, "but it's nothing I can't fix." You were about to approach and help fix up the lieutenant's troublesome arm when a loud commotion erupted outside. "Excuse me, I'll be right back," you said, stepping out of your office.
An argument was unfolding between a medic-in-training you recognized as Sherry and a soldier you've heard unsavory things about named Allen. Sherry looked nervous, staring at her boots while Allen yelled at her. "I don't want some fresh-blood working on me. Where's Dr. Whitfield?"
Stepping between them, you patted Sherry on the shoulder, positioning yourself protectively in front of her. "I'm sorry, Dr. Whitfield is on family leave right now, but both Sherry and I are qualified to help."
Allen glared down at you, attempting to use his height to intimidate. "I'd rather have someone reliable to help me, not some trainee or a medic with a shiny new coat."
You smiled, recognizing his type immediately. Gently pressing a hand to his shoulder, you said, "While I understand your concern, there is no one more reliable than us, as we are directly trained under Dr. Whitfield. So please, follow me." You attempted to guide him to an empty room, but he jerked his arm away and flicked your forehead while you were stunned. "Are you hard of hearing? I just said—"
Standing your ground, you brushed off his flick and cut him off. "I heard what you said, but if you're going to be an asshole, you should go. Sherry, there's another patient down the hall."
Turning to let Sherry be on her way, you were about to head back to Ghost when Allen suddenly grabbed your wrist, forcing you to face him. "So that's it? Is no one going to tend to me?"
"I've already told you your options. You insist on rejecting what I'm offering. Now let me go." You tried to pull your arm back, but Allen's grip was relentless. His insistence on disregarding your expertise and blatant disrespect tested your patience. "Let me go."
Allen didn't take you seriously, clearly thinking he could talk to the "new kid" however he wanted. Before he could react, your fist shot out, connecting solidly with his jaw.
The impact echoed through the hall as Allen stumbled back, clutching his face in shock. The surrounding soldiers and medics turned to watch, their expressions a mix of surprise and approval.
You stepped back, maintaining your stance. "Anyone else have a problem with the medical staff?" you asked, your voice steady and commanding.
There was a brief silence before Allen, still holding his jaw, muttered something under his breath and stormed off. You returned to Ghost, an apologetic look on your face. "I'm sorry for that. Give me one minute to wash my hands."
Ghost watched as you disappeared into the bathroom within your office, absolutely stunned by what he had just witnessed. He had observed the entire ordeal, ready to intervene if necessary, but he found himself taken aback by how well you had handled the situation—better than he had expected.
The image of you standing your ground and delivering that sharp, decisive punch replayed in his mind. He had seen plenty of confrontations, both on and off the battlefield, but your composed and resolute demeanor in the face of Allen’s aggression was remarkable.
He had underestimated you, and that realization was both surprising and impressive. You weren’t just a medic; you had the grit and determination that demanded respect.
Ghost saw you through a more transparent lens. How the curve of your figure swayed as you walked, the resolute look on your face when you stood your ground, and how much you clearly loved your job.
♡! I know you said short story but you gave me an idea for atleast one or two more parts!!! I'm ngl this ask couldnt have come at a better time bc I was absolutely cooked with writers block.. thank you for your service. 💞
Ghost felt a different kind of throb and this time it wasn't his arm.
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P.S. this wasn't proofread.
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eightmakesonebraincell · 1 year ago
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ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line)
read maknae line here
genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes
length: 12.8k
c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)
a/n: this has simultaneously been the pride and joy of my life and the bane of my entire existence for the last 2.5 months 🥴 and tumblr is an inept incapable CLOWN who cannot handle the full 24k worth of bullet points so here is the hyung line first - maknae line coming soon (yumi @sorryimananti-romantic can vouch for my unsuccessful 3-hour attempt at formatting them into a single post)
hongjoong
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pov: you're the king's royal courtesan
“fuck,” hongjoong lets out a deep growl from within his chest as his head dips down to rest against the crook of your neck. “you’re just as tight as last time”
when your hips involuntarily buck from the pleasure, he nudges your thighs further apart and keeps your wrists pinned above your head
he can’t help but let out another groan when he feels your walls clench around his cock as you adjust to his thickness
“i thought- god,” a moan escapes you after he thrusts his hips against you, “thought you never fucked the same woman twice”
“i don’t,” he simply says
and it’s true
hongjoong is one of the youngest princes to have ruled during the kim dynasty, having risen to power after the previous king succumbed early to an unknown illness
he has the choice and selection of all the courtesans available within the palace and outside its walls
hongjoong also has a reputation of being highly sought after by everybody, not just amongst courtesans
it’s not only because he is devilishly handsome, knows how to properly fuck somebody dumb, and is the literal king
the main thing that makes him so desirable and unreachable?
he never sees the same courtesan more than once
“yet here you are,” you hook your legs around hongjoong’s waist to gain leverage and meet his thrusts with your own hips, “between my legs for the second time”
you smirk when he curses and throws his head back
his grip on your wrists tightens and his voice drops dangerously low
“the first time doesn’t count because i was meant to see lady chae. so really, this is the first time i’m requesting for your services”
he silences you from retorting by pressing a bruising kiss against you, lips messily attaching to yours before trailing down the sharp angle of your jaw to bite your neck
you are a courtesan for people of nobility and royal status
part of the ‘house of flowers’ and commonly referred to as ‘flower courtesans’, you and the other women are highly-sought after for the companionship you offer
you are well protected by the house of flowers though - the services of companionship that you provide is requested by your client, but is ultimately accepted or rejected by you
lady chae, another of the flower courtesans and one of your closest friends, is requested by the king for her services
it is quite clear what it is going to entail and you both spend several of the following nights giggling and whispering scandalously to one another
whether the rumours about his stamina will be true
whether lady chae will be the first to break his one-fuck rule
except when the day of the meeting comes around, she spikes a sudden fever
lady shin, the head of the house of flowers, takes all but one look at her before ordering her to bed rest despite both of your attempts to, albeit unconvincingly, persuade lady shin that chae’s fever would only serve to help make the king’s dick warmer
lady shin is not amused to say the least
with the last minute hitch, the king agrees for you to be sent out to him as a replacement instead
and you end up being the flower courtesan who he breaks his reputed rule for
(lady chae is initially jealous, understandably)
(but very quickly, she appears to be even more excited than you are as she combs through your undergarments for the “sluttiest set” that she can find)
your attention is brought back as hongjoong flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, continuing to drag his length in and out of you while your back arches off the bed
you tease in between short breaths, “are you really bringing up another woman’s name while you have your cock inside me?”
“you brought it up first,” he reminds you, accentuating his answer with timed thrusts
you grind your hips against his, chasing more friction against your clit as you feel your high approaching
“why?” he snakes one of his hands down between your connected torsos to rub messy circles against your clit, smirking as he asks, “are you getting jealous already?”
for that, you clench down hard on his cock, immediately feeling the way it throbs inside of you as you bring him closer to his orgasm too
“as if. fuck off”
your words are hardly audible from the whines that are leaving your mouth due to the added pressure of another finger against your clit from your retaliation
“i’m close,” hongjoong releases his grip on your wrists so that he can straighten his body, anchoring his hand on your hip instead so that he can fuck you and rub your clit with his other hand with renewed vigour
when you hear him groan, “cum for me,” the string snaps and your whole body quivers in his hold as your orgasm washes over you
hongjoong’s hips gradually stutter to a pause, an occasional thrust inside your clenching pussy as he milks out the rest of his cum inside of you
he finally eases himself out of you and hums in satisfaction as he watches his cum slowly leak out of you
hongjoong drops down beside you, toned chest covered in a sheen layer of sweat as it rises up and down with his pants
when your fuzzy mind has cleared a little from the blissful haze of your orgasm, he strokes his fingertips along the side of your thigh, along the curve of your ass, and over the dip of your waist just under your breasts as he says, “you better not be jealous. first one to get jealous loses”
“if anyone’s going to get jealous first, it’s you,” you scoff back
he raises an eyebrow
oh yeah?
he shoves his leaking cum back inside of you and fingers you to another orgasm
now that shuts you up
for a man who barks, he sure has no bite, because you find yourself being notified by lady shin several days later of yet another request for your services under the king’s name
and another request turns into another
and every single time, hongjoong makes sure that the only word leaving your lips for those many hours is his moaned name
but at the same time, the more you and hongjoong meet, the more he just savours in your simple companionship
he asks you to teach him how to embroider because you’ve mentioned before it’s how you like to spend your free evenings
he rifles through your bag of materials that you bring
you smack his hand away at the carelessness with which he’s upturning everything
“what’s this?” he holds up a large, wooden hoop before trying to fit it through his head, “a necklace?”
“i wonder if people know they appointed an idiot to be king,” you say as you gently unscrew the hoops and demonstrate how to align a piece of fabric between the rings
he watches with interest as you screw the outer hoop tighter until the fabric is nice and taut and then repeat the process so you both have one to work with
you have to help hongjoong thread his needle too, because apparently the king’s fingers are only good for scissoring you open
you weave your own needle through the fabric at a slow pace whilst telling him the different names and uses of the stitches you’re showing him
except, when you look up to see if he’s following?
his own hoop has been abandoned to one side and he’s leaning against his hand as he gazes cheekily at you
“were you even paying attention?”
he sounds a little too confident when he answers not at all
in return, hongjoong shows you how to write hanja the next time you meet
he positions himself behind you with his hand over yours as he guides you through different characters stroke by stroke
he claims that there are specific ways of applying pressure to the brush so he has to be holding your hand at all times
you most definitely roll your eyes several times but you indulge him anyway
there are a lot of giggles and teasing pushes when you accidentally dip the end of your sleeve into the ink and you try to spread it onto his robes too
(the calligraphy may or may not become forgotten when hongjoong pins you down to stop your cheeky behaviour, because things naturally escalate whenever he has you under him)
you two do eventually manage to finish one decent-looking scroll of characters which he ends up gifting you so that you ‘don’t forget’ about him when you’re not with him
when you walk back into the house of flowers, the hanging scroll perks lady shin’s interest as you walk past
“hongjoong taught me how to write my name today”
lady shin waggles her eyebrows at you suggestively because of how casually you refer to the king, for which you nudge her with a shoulder
she laughs then asks to have a look
you unravel the paper to show her but then she makes a funny noise
“that’s not your name? these are the characters for- oh,” she cackles scandalously to herself, as if she has made a secret discovery
“what does it mean?” you hurry to clarify
you wouldn’t put it past him to have taught you a crude phrase instead, like ‘best tits’ or ‘biggest ass’
lady shin lets out an amused exhale, handing the scroll back to you
“it says, my flower”
you’re looking at those exact characters from where you lay on your bed when a knock sounds on your door several days later
lady shin steps into your room with a warm smile as you greet her
“you have an appointment with lord min tomorrow, but the king has just inquired about your service availability for tomorrow,” she informs you. “would you like me to give him the usual answer?”
this isn’t the first time a clash has occurred, particularly with the increasing frequency with which hongjoong requests to see you
you have always told lady shin to ask for hongjoong’s pardon and to offer him an alternative time or day, because in the end, you still need to maintain a professional and admirable reputation as a flower courtesan
and as you open your mouth to tell her ‘yes’, your eye catches the scroll hanging on your wall
my flower
you hesitate
“actually,” you look away from the hanja, “i’ll see hongjoong.”
lady shin gives you a motherly smile as she nods in understanding and closes the door behind her
the next day you see him, he excitedly points out the large tambour frame in his room that he bought just a few days prior, claiming you two can work on a big embroidery patch together now
you give him one look then demote him back to the small embroidery hoop because he still hasn’t learnt his basic stitches yet
(that’ll teach him to not pay attention when you’re demonstrating, ha)
you relent and end up going through the different stitches with him again anyway
and you find that he’s actually not that bad with embroidery once he’s actually focused on the task at hand
it’s nice, basking in each other's presence while he threads his little square of fabric and you work with the large frame you have now essentially claimed as yours
not that hongjoong minds; he did buy it solely to make you happy
and then you offhandedly mention that someone had gifted you a handkerchief with your initials embroidered on one of the corners the other day
“i actually have it on me, in fact,” and you take it out from where it’s tucked into your waist so that you can show him
he juts out his chin as he peers down at the delicate letters, huffing, “it’s pretty, i guess”
then as an afterthought he tacks on, “bet i could do a better job”
“are you jealous right now, kim hongjoong?”
said man is hellbent on avoiding your eyes as he picks up his needle and thread again
“no i’m not!”
“whatever you say,” you smirk
after that day though, you don’t receive another request from hongjoong to meet until two weeks later
which, in the grand scheme of things, really isn’t much
but in comparison to the frequency at which you are used to seeing him, the frequency at which your body is used to having him, it is much too long
you are almost beginning to wonder whether you shouldn’t have brought up the handkerchief gift
yet, he greets you with his usual teasing squeeze of your waist, dangerously close to your ass
you make a move to follow him through the doors to his chambers but he turns around to produce a silk cloth
he starts to blindfold you, whispering sultrily, “i have a surprise for you”
you feel the hairs on the back of your neck raise at his tone
guiding you inside, hongjoong gently pushes you down so that you sink into the plush duvet of his bed
“do you trust me?” he whispers
trying not to dwell on the urge to lick your dry lips, you answer, “of course”
you feel him tugging slowly on the string that holds the front of your corset together, loosening your dress with tenderness like you are a fragile gift
you shiver when your shoulders are suddenly exposed to the cold air
and then the sensation is followed by the warmth of hongjoong’s soft exhales along the expanse of your collarbones as he leans closer to fully disrobe your shoulders
you have to remind yourself to keep breathing
“you can look now,” he tells you
you remove the silk cloth from around your eyes, unsure of what to expect
it takes a few blinks to readjust your vision to the room around you but then your eyes finally focus
and you gasp
there, hung on the wall with its striking viridian green, shimmering threads and intricate swirls on glorious display, is quite possibly the most stunning dress you have ever laid eyes upon
“try it on,” he encourages
but as you step closer, you realise the lacing across the front of the corset and running down the sleeves of the top dress is in fact, not lacing
it’s patchy
it’s uneven
it has empty areas
but it is no doubt embroidery
“did you…did you make this?” you reach out a hand to lightly caress one of the embroidered flowers, not quite daring to believe that hongjoong would go to these lengths for you
“of course,” he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses a light kiss against your temple, “i’m not losing to a lousy handkerchief”
“is that why you disappeared for two weeks?”
you let out a laugh, sinking into his embrace, because the image of the great king holed up in his chambers for days on end, hunched over your dress with a needle, thread and frown on his face is just too endearing
he lets out a warning huff as he turns you around in his embrace to face him
upturning his hands, he shows you the tips of his fingers and grumbles, “i poked myself so many times for you and you laugh at me?”
you bring his hands closer to your face, pressing light kisses to his fingertips as you smile, “thank you, joong. i love it so much, i really do”
he looks at you impossibly soft
under his tender gaze, something suddenly rushes to your very core
you hold one his hands steady in front of your lips then swirl your tongue out in an experimental lick over his fingers
it’s almost captivating how quickly his pupils dilate and zero in on your tongue
so you dare to bring his fingers into your mouth
you suck on them a little harder
a little deeper
and then you moan around his fingers, “i want you”
he lets out a groan himself, feeling the front of his breeches tighten as his cock twitches
“i- fuck, i didn’t give the dress to you in hopes that it would lead to this,” yet despite his words he is stepping you backwards so that he can pin you against the wall
“i know, but i want you,” you palm his growing bulge, your knees going weak at how hard he already is. “and i need you. now.”
he doesn’t need further encouragement
he shoves the remainder of your clothes aside before inserting his fingers roughly between your folds
it doesn’t take long for him to bring you to your first orgasm, curling his fingers relentlessly as you ride them
he spreads your cum over your pussy and you buck your hips with a whine when he circles over your clit briefly
then he’s turning you around and bending you over, one of your hands bracing against the wall, your other arm held behind your back by hongjoong’s firm grasp
“fuck, you’re so wet,” his whole body shivers with pleasure as his cock slips right into you
the obscene sounds of his hips slapping against your ass and your slick being pushed back into your hole over and over again fill the room
and to the clenching of your pussy from another orgasm, hongjoong also cums into you with a guttural groan of your name
he gently carries you to his bed and lays you on top of the covers
he leaves your side for a moment and you listen to him rummage through something while you try to regain control of your quaking legs
when he comes back, you feel him gently spreading your legs and then the ticklish sensation of a soft cloth along your inner thighs
a whine escapes your lips when he rubs over your sensitive clit and hongjoong grips your thigh a little tighter
“be careful what pretty sounds you’re making if you can’t handle another round”
it isn’t until he finishes cleaning you up and lies down next to you to start wiping himself down that you look over and realise what it is that he’s been using this whole time
your mouth drops in disbelief
when hongjoong notices your expression, he smirks, “the man who gave you this has no idea his handkerchief is being used to clean my cum off your thighs”
“hongjoong!” you flush with a laugh. “you are definitely jealous, aren’t you?”
“yes, i’m fucking jealous,” he growls, “you’re the only one i want. you’re the only woman i’ve been requesting for since i’ve seen you. and i want to be the only one who gets to have you, too”
you confess, “well, you can have all of me. because i’ve started refusing other people just for you”
he looks at you for another moment before he’s suddenly straddling your hips
“change of plans,” he says breathily, “i need you again”
“very good plan,” you grind up against him
and then you pause, mirth starting to bubble in your throat, “one last thing though”
hongjoong looks down with amusement in his own eyes, wondering what could possibly be so funny
“that handkerchief?” you start, struggling not to laugh when his eyes immediately narrow, “i never said it was from a man. it was a gift from lady chae”
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seonghwa
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pov: you're his royal guard
as soon as you notice the movement out of the corner of your eye, your body reacts straight away
you murmur seonghwa’s name with a tight voice and move to position yourself in front of him, unwilling to risk the prince’s safety
one of your hands grasps the hilt of your sword, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger, as your calculative gaze darts between the two young men stumbling closer on the dirt path and the line of forest trees from which they appear
they are wearing simple tunics and breeches with their colour faded and seams loosening from wear
from what you can discern, they are simply commoners, but that does not rule out the possibility that they are bandits
seonghwa seems to think otherwise, though
unsurprising but still grating
the prince places his hand on your shoulder gently in a silent reassurance and request for you to step aside
albeit reluctantly, you force yourself to move to his left
it becomes clear to you as the two figures stop just shy of a few feet away that the term ‘men’ was pushing it - their faces are young and they appear to be no older than seventeen or eighteen
the young strangers dip their head in greeting, one of them apologising as well as he pulls out a tattered map that he extends out for you two to see
“my companion and i are traveling to the village norshaw but seem to have lost our way. would you be able to point us in the right direction?” the one with the map asks
“of course,” seonghwa offers with a kind smile
you watch as the three of them step closer together to look more closely at the map
on high alert, and just as you are predicting, you see the companion shuffle closer to seonghwa, hand inching towards the leather pouch that hangs from the prince’s belt
you catch the subtle motion of seonghwa’s eyes flickering down just an inch
because of how well you understand his body language, you know that it means he has already noticed the thieving intention
but because of how well you understand seonghwa, you know that he isn’t going to do anything about it either
so you strike in his stead
your hand darts out to snatch the thieve’s wrist, twisting his forearm upwards so that he is forced to lean awkwardly towards one side to prevent his elbow from snapping
his partner drops the map, letting out a string of curses and hesitating for all but three seconds before he turns around to flee
scoffing, you threaten the one who is still in your hold, who then bolts with his tail between his legs after you release him
"did you really need to scare them off like that? it's not like i had any money in the pouch anyway," seonghwa chastises with a chuckle
"yes," you deadpan. "i did not spend the last two hours of our trip pausing every fifty meters to wait for you to pick up a rock because you thought it looked pretty, only for them to be stolen by a pair of petty thieves"
"it would have been funny to imagine their faces after realising what they stole," seonghwa grins
“mhm,” you hum, “and the next thing you know, you’ll wake up to your palace ransacked, because word in town is that you can steal from the prince and get away with it”
he levels you with a boyish scowl, “you’re so dramatic. what are you, my mother?”
“no, but i am your royal bodyguard”
“exactly. you are my bodyguard, not my brainguard. if i am to be swindled of my pretty rocks, then so be it”
you roll your eyes out of exasperation, but everything is swiftly forgotten minutes later when you point out a heart-shaped rock and seonghwa rushes over to pick it up
it has been like this ever since the incident occurred - him, the sunshine; you, the sunshine protector
it has been almost four years since it happened
somebody had attempted arsenic poisoning of not only seonghwa, but also those working under him
you had noticed strange discolouring of the silverware in the kitchen and on the table serving his dinner, which prompted an investigation and subsequent discovery of the perpetrator
an act of betrayal and treachery by one of his closest relatives - his very own uncle
seonghwa was - still is - too merciful and tender-hearted to punish his uncle, even if the severity of his uncle’s crimes warranted execution
to have his trust broken so shatteringly hurt seonghwa more than if he were to actually have been poisoned
you still remember like it was yesterday; the sight of the prince slumped against the wall, weighed down by chains of turmoil and despair as whispers fly through the palace of the weak-hearted prince who is unable to deliver fair judgement
it is the sight of the prince looking so small and lost that drives your feet forward to stand before him
as the soft draught coming through the windows tugs gently on your tresses and the flickers of candlelight illuminate the glint of steel in your hand, you make a decision
“i’ll be your sword,” you pledge
not just as his royal guard, but as his haven when he is forced to face corruption and wickedness
and when you see the way his shoulders immediately sag with relief at your declaration, the way he nods like a child who has been reassured that everything will be okay, you tell yourself that seonghwa will never have to dirty his hands as long as you are with him
you will be the dark to his light; the yin to his yang
quietly, you see to it that his uncle is executed for his crimes - your statement to the rest of the palace that prince seonghwa is not to be mocked
neither of you bring it up again, but seonghwa knows
he pulls you into a wholehearted hug, arms enveloping you securely as his chest shakes with shuddering breaths of thank you over and over again
you rub your hand up and down his sturdy back soothingly
it is an action that simultaneously reciprocates his embrace and his crossed line of professionalism
one that starts the shift in dynamic between you both, boundaries of sought comfort blurring with friendship and then something more
where seonghwa is too trusting and too soft-spoken, you become his skepticism and his voice
“you should be more wary of others,” you always remind him
“and you should be more trusty of others,” he’ll retort
yet, he will never make a decision that does not receive your input nor one that you do not agree with
where seonghwa is too gentle and too humble, you become his sword and his shield
you do not waver when you strike down foe, and friends turned foe alike
you speak up and establish firm boundaries when others take advantage of the respect he shows everybody regardless of their class or status
and yet, if you find yourself on the receiving end of someone’s condescension or discriminatory treatment, be it due to your rank as a guard or identity as a woman, seonghwa will be advancing forward to defend you before you can do so yourself
where seonghwa is too innocent and too bushy-tailed, you become his eyes and his caution
your morning walks together always last for longer than they are scheduled for
he stops to watch every butterfly and bumblebee that flutters along the flowery path, and he waits for caterpillars to crawl onto a leaf that he holds by the stem so that he can move the critters off the pathway
you love to watch him and his glittering eyes, his cheeks rosy from happiness and from the air still crisp with morning dew
but you also make sure to watch his surroundings with greater vigilance because the quiet peace that the freshly awoken sun brings simultaneously increases the likelihood of a targeted attack against him
as much as you rib him for being a marshmallow personified, however, and as much as he banters back that you are more than welcome to resign at any time, neither of you want it any other way
seonghwa carries out a lot of gestures that he justifies to himself as being eternally grateful for you and the things you do for him
he likes to gift you flowers he has plucked from his garden or the bushes he walks past that remind him of you
(“that’s actually just a very pretty-looking weed, but thank you, seonghwa,” you tell him on more than one occasion)
(it’s adorable, because the next time he finds a flower, he goes to the length of certifying that it is indeed a flower with the merchant who sells bouquets in the nearby town before presenting it to you, eyes gleaming with pride)
you stand still and let him tuck a flower behind your ear, sometimes braiding your hair gently so that he can weave and secure the stem into your hair, holding your breath as his features fill with the same enrapturement that he would admire a beautiful artwork with
after you voice this out one day, seonghwa supposes to himself that there is not much difference between an artwork and you
not that he’s attracted to you or anything - you just…have an objectively attractive face
yes.
especially when your usually-piercing expression is softened by fatigue, guard no longer up as you sleep slumped over a desk while accompanying him during his late night of studies
he does not realise his feet have moved until he is right beside your resting form, as if the soft exhales escaping from your slightly parted lips are a siren’s song
seonghwa tenderly brushes your stray locks away from your face and behind your neck
except he forgets to account for the fact that you are trained to sleep on the brink of consciousness
the squeal that leaves his mouth when your reflexes kick in and you almost slit his throat resounds at a frequency so high you almost believe it comes from your own mouth
you have a grand time watching his beet red face stutter out an excuse as to what exactly he was doing so close to you
needless to say, that is the last time seonghwa ever tries to do anything while you are sleeping
but as much as he bumbles around, he also reveals his perceptiveness when you least expect it
like now, as you accompany the prince to one of his meetings with numerous advisors and ministers
it is relatively dull and uneventful, mostly a cordial appearance to maintain amicable and loyal relationships with his subjects
conversation is limited to pleasantries and at one point, seonghwa even points out the calligraphy paintings hung at the back of the room
everyone nods with throaty laughs as if the paintings are indeed the most exquisite and tasteful artworks they have ever laid their eyes upon
when you and seonghwa arrive back at his chambers following the conclusion of the meeting, he walks over to his bed and shakes the sleeves of his robe over the expanse of his duvet
and out drops a neatly-wrapped sweet, followed by another, then another, until there are enough to amount to two handfuls
baffled, you look at seonghwa, because these are the very same treats that had been plated on the tables during the meeting
“you smuggled candy out of the room?” you try to keep the amusement out of your voice
he peers into his sleeves to ensure there are no more stragglers, before turning to face you as he waves his hands over the small collection of goods on his bed
as if they are-
“for you!” he exclaims almost proudly. “i saw you eyeing them during the meeting so i took some for you”
okay
most definitely proudly 
you feel something tickling you from within, as if he has reached through your chest to directly caress your heart with a delicate finger
“when did you even…” your voice trails off when it comes out a little fonder than you are expecting it to
“remember the paintings i pointed out?” seonghwa giggles, and you think that the hand in your chest is now cradling your heart completely. “i swiped the sweets when everyone was looking back at them”
“thank you, hwa,” you settle on saying, because you do not trust yourself to say anything else
that is more than enough for him, though
which, of course it is - this is seonghwa, with his huge heart that fills easily with the smallest of things
he eagerly hands you one of the treats and you unwrap it to place into your mouth
you’ve had these before, but this one that he has specially grabbed for you tastes remarkably sweeter
you wonder if his lips will taste the same…
but then you accidentally bite your tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and you realise just how wrong you are for letting those fleeting thoughts into your mind
because while you navigate the world in thick droplets of red and sharp glints of silver, seonghwa sees the world in soft hues of pastel and gleaming rays of yellow
how could the two palettes ever blend together harmoniously?
so instead, you grant yourself one last moment of selfishness and pull him into a hug, a gesture that toes the already shaky borders of professionalism yet can still be excused under the guise of friendship
you realise that he has always meant much more to you, but that is what this will stay as - a mere realisation
seonghwa wraps his arms around your form as he relaxes into the way your bodies naturally meld together
it’s strange how easily you slot into his life, his thoughts, his heart
he wonders whether it’s possible for feelings of appreciation to run so deeply and potently within somebody, like a drug that he cannot get enough of
and when you take a step away from him, leaving his chest feeling physically and emotionally empty, he wonders if he is perhaps…
in love with you
following that incident, it is almost as if a switch flips - both of you take several steps away from the line that has been danced around
but neither of you notice the distance because you are both consumed by your own thoughts
until one of your usual morning walks around the castle walls of his palace
seonghwa is wondering whether the bushes you walk past remind you of the flowers he used to gift you and you are debating whether to reach out to brush a petal out of his half ponytail 
then, like deja vu, your eyes flicker towards the burst of movement as a figure covered in black comes darting forwards with their blade raised intended for murder
you immediately start to unsheathe your sword, feet poised and prepared to defend-
until you are harshly tugged back and the prince steps in front of you to parry the strike that the assassin tries to land
it takes your lifetime of training and experience to snap back into focus and thrust your sword into the enemy’s exposed side
when you are sure he is dead, you whirl around to descend upon seonghwa with a voice trembling from both anger and relief
“what in the world were you thinking?” you yell
“i-”
taking a step forward, you toss your sword to one side, “no, actually. you weren’t thinking at all”
“i was afraid that you would get hurt!” he takes his own step closer
“that is my duty!” the volume of your voice raises even more. “i am willing to lay down my life to ensure your safety! i have been guarding you for years now and you have never acted this way. what has changed?”
for a moment, the only sound that punctuates the silence is your harsh breathing
seonghwa swallows
“my feelings…” he whispers, a stark contrast to the peak of emotions you have been riding. “my feelings for you have changed”
your throat tightens at his words
it is your turn to whisper, a noise of confusion leaving your lips
he takes another step closer, bringing himself to stand right in front of you as he looks down earnestly into your eyes
“i’d rather be the protector, and you be the protected”
“but…why?” your heart races with anticipation
“because i’m in love with you” 
right at the invisible border that has been separating you two for as long as you have been his guard, seonghwa now stands, hands wringing together as he awaits a response
“then that makes the two of us,” you confess
you step forward to take your familiar spot on the other side of the line, except this time you do not stop
you stride over the boundary completely to stand by his side
raising yourself onto your tiptoes, you pull him down slightly by the front of his doublet so that you can press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips
it stretches wider and curves upwards under the nurturing of your own smile
you can’t help but give him another kiss on the other side of his mouth to match the one you just gave him
“from now on,” seonghwa starts, “i’ll be your sword”
you wouldn’t really, and you will fight him to let you continue being his guard, but that doesn’t stop one last teasing question from escaping you
“does this mean i get to retire?”
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yunho
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pov: you're part of a rebel group
the crown prince is not in his fucking library
for the past three weeks, the crown prince has always been in the royal library at night
until today
under normal circumstances, his royal guards and staff would be alerted to ensure that the deviance in routine is a conscious decision and not an issue of the crown prince missing
except doing that would make your job significantly harder…
considering you have been ordered to assassinate him.
you’re part of the ‘red sun’, a revolutionary movement aiming to overthrow the current monarch
following the debilitating state of the king after falling ill and the subsequent coronation of queen jeong into power, she has since then established numerous royal decrees to keep everyone under her reign on a tight leash
a leash made of barbed wire
people are quick to become resentful and thirsty for an end to the dictatorship and bloodline
although he has made limited public appearances, the crown prince has also developed a reputation rivaling the queen’s
within the second year of the jeong dynasty, red sun has already amassed a multitude of supporters
the focus is currently on growing in numbers, preparing for an imminent revolution and picking off corrupt royals and noblists, be it through incrimination or assassination
dealing with those in positions of higher power is a task only completed by an elite selection of red sun rebels who have distinguished skills and traits that set them apart from peasants and commoners
and you are amongst the elite team
which is why you find yourself staking out on the tiled roof of the imperial palace, clothed in black with a mask and hooded cowl covering your face that blends you in with the darkness of night, on the orders of a higher-up to assassinate the crown prince
except the target is missing; the information you were given is wrong
which never happens
you can’t risk staying around for much longer, especially now that the crown prince has broken his routine
he could be anywhere and so could his royal guards
you shift your body to a crouch and place your hands on the cool tiles beneath you, ready to leave
only to spot a figure, crouched just like you are, on the opposite side of the roof
their face is a black hole of nothing within the shrouded confines of their hood, but you can feel their gaze piercing into you all the same
you run
you scramble to the edge of the roof and nimbly leap off the curved eaves to the neighbouring structure of the study room
when you glance backwards, you see the man - physique now obvious - is keeping up easily along the stepping stones of roofs
this game of cat and mouse isn’t going to work for long
if you don’t get caught by him first, you’re both going to get caught by the palace guards
so you make a split decision and alter your next trajectory lower
keeping your arms outstretched for the eaves, you grab on tightly when your fingers touch the edge of the roof and use your core to kick your legs up to stop your body from slamming into the wall from the momentum of your jump
you let go and drop to the ground like a feline, noiseless, and slink towards a line of trees
then you wait
he’s good, you note to yourself, when the only sound that alerts you to his presence is the quick scuffle of his feet as he softens his impact against the wall and the muted thud of his body landing on the ground
“state your purpose,” he demands, voice low yet firm
you ignore him to ask, “who are you?”
now up close, you can see that the man is wearing attire almost the same as you are, identity also hidden by the his bandana and hood-
wait
even the dark red stitching that subtly replaces the original seam on the right shoulder of his outer clothing is the same
the same as those on the elite team
“one of you,” he confirms your suspicions
except you don’t recognise his voice nor his build
being one of the earliest members of the rebel organisation, you are familiar with all the members who carry out missions like yours
he is not one of them; not one you can trust yet
when you don’t speak, he adds on, “we need to go. the safehouse might be in danger”
we
he refers to the two of you so easily, as if you and him are an unspoken team
you cannot trust this man until you know for sure he is part of red sun, so you ask him
“when is red most beautiful?”
it is a vague question with a fixed answer
one that reflects the heart of the revolutionary itself
during the sunrise of a new beginning 
“during the sunrise of a new beginning,” the man says resolutely
the tension releases from your shoulders 
“okay,” you opt to abandon your original mission. “let’s check on the safehouse”
the man offers you a hand to hike yourself up onto one of the outer walls of the palace before he jumps up himself with ease
you both flip over the top and land in unison
the moon illuminates the ground beneath your feet as you both sprint into the surrounding forest
the safehouse is really just a small hut situated far enough from the palace to stay inconspicuous, yet not close enough to the outer borders of the kingdom to risk discovery by the frequent border patrols
you both slow down as you approach the clearing, steadying your breaths and treading with cautious steps
and then you hear it
the shattering clang of a desperate parry
all it takes is a quick glance at the man by your side before your eyes harden with purpose and your steps are dashing in unison towards the hut
you’re both hit with the smell of a metallic tang in the air, and it’s not from your drawn swords
bursting through the door, you quickly take in the scene before you
several red sun members are scattered around the hut and slumped in varying degrees of injury
it’s easy to spot the intruder; they’re yanking their sword out of a body’s torso as they simultaneously turn to look at you
and it’s hard to miss the royal insignia of the jeong monarch on their chest plate
you have the element of surprise
but only for the next few seconds
you leap forward with the thud of footsteps of your partner following almost immediately, side-stepping once you close the distance to dodge a haphazard swing
there’s a brief break in defense when the enemy tries to aim for another strike that leaves the gap in the side of their armour exposed
you feel the slight resistance of your sword entering flesh as you thrust it forward into them
except when you try to tug it back out, a hand grasps your own and the hilt of your sword, stopping you from stepping away
the enemy has realised they are not going to make it out of this alive
but if they are to die, then they are going to take one last person with them
you.
you see glint of metal as they use their other hand to swing their sword down onto you, only for it to be deflected at the last second by another sword
the man you have met for barely an hour is now at your side with his towering protectiveness
in one smooth kick, his long leg sends the other careening into the wall of the hut with a mighty slam
you feel yourself jerking forward from the enemy’s grasp still on your hand
but the man next to you quickly tucks you into his side before you are also sent sprawling
“check on the others,” he briefly says, and then he is striding towards the fallen intruder
you only spare him another quick glance and then you rush to the nearest figure on the ground
you go around checking for pulses, and for those who are still breathing, the extent of their injuries
there are several casualties but nowhere near as many if you and the man had not come to check on the safehouse
which suddenly makes you pause in your tracks
how did he know about the attack in the first place?
you stretch your legs from their squatted position next to one of the red sun members and turn around to confront him
except…the man has disappeared
and so has the intruder’s body
days later, the question of whether you will chance upon the man again tonight flits through your mind when you find yourself perched in the very same spot on the tiled roof of the palace that gives you a clear view of the royal library
you have received another order to assassinate the crown prince as soon as you see the opportunity arise
this time, the note is accompanied by a cyanide capsule, a non-verbal message that this mission is to occur with your life on the line
you spot him
he’s preoccupied by the scroll in his hand as he makes his way through the shelves of parchments
you wait until he’s walked far enough into the library before you drop down from the roof, keeping your stance low to ensure you stay hidden as you silently move closer
you take out the jagged dagger from its sheath by your waist as you anticipate it will be too difficult to wield your long sword in the narrow aisles
and there the crown prince stands
he has his back to you, exposing him to your mercy
mercy that you have no intention of showing him
the cruel heir to the throne of an even crueler dictatorship deserves none
“it’s you again, isn’t it?”
you freeze
the crown prince still has not turned around to address you, but you can feel the dark gaze of his eyes on you as if he were looking at you
“you were here a few days ago”
fuck
how he knows you have no idea
what you do know though is that you have about two seconds to make a move before you lose this chance to assassinate him completely, and quite possibly, lose your life as well
the pill you have hidden in the breast of your tunic feels heavy
“you are part of red sun, are you not?”
this time the crown prince does turn around to face you, but it isn’t the nonchalance with which he reveals your identity that makes your head reel
it is the warmth and softness in his gaze and the hint of a smile on his face that does
what the actual fuck
you’re convinced that the crown prince is not only heinous, but also batshit crazy
“i am,” you spit out at him, “with orders to assassinate you, in fact”
his mouth thins into a tight line, “the orders you have received are false”
“sounds exactly like something a crown prince would say to avoid being assassinated,” you scoff
but then his next words change everything
“red is most beautiful during the sunrise of a new beginning”
before you have time to fathom the bomb that has just been dropped, your heads swivel simultaneously towards the entrance of the royal library when a voice calls out for the crown prince
“hide,” he hisses urgently
and then he’s stepping further away to conceal your presence as best as possible
you hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching before they stop, dangerously close to where you’re crouched behind a bookshelf
“apologies for interrupting your time, crown prince,” they say
from where you are you can see the crown prince’s expression clear as he lets out a small huff, “i have told you many times to just call me yunho”
“of course, crown prince yunho”
even though you can’t see the other person’s expression, you can hear the amusement in their voice
they continue, “i have the information you have requested for”
“thank you,” you see him - yunho - receive a small scroll. “the queen does not know?”
“no, i made sure to be as discreet as possible”
yunho thanks the other once again and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he bows his head in appreciation as he dismisses them
is this the same crown prince as the rumours?
and what is he doing behind his mother’s back?
you don’t realise you’ve been staring dumbly at him until he’s back in front of you with amusement on his face
he stands tall and proud, robes accentuating his stature and nobility
“who exactly are you,” you dare to ask
your voice is small - you feel small, crouched at his feet like a stark physical representation of the power he holds over you
but then he takes yet another step closer and kneels down so that your eyes meet at the same level
“i am the leader of red sun. the creator of the whole revolution”
your ankles actually do give out at that and you have to seat yourself on the floor
because how is any of this possible?
you must have voiced your thoughts out loud, because before you know it, yunho is crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the floor right in front of you
it makes you feel so strange
the crown prince’s willingness to make himself an equal before you - and even to his staff from earlier
yunho starts to explain
a change in monarch, particularly one of such dictatorship, requires massive momentum and synergy; something he cannot produce alone nor without the support of the people
thus, red sun came into existence for the exact same reason you and all the other supporters have joined
in hopes of a sunrise one day that marks a new beginning
a new leadership
except recently he has had growing suspicious of the presence of a traitor within the organisation, which were confirmed the night the safehouse was attacked
“that night…that man was you,” you realise, “and that’s how you know who i am”
he nods, “and that’s also how i know your orders are false.” yunho nudges you playfully with his knee, “pretty sure i never ordered for my own assassination”
yunho continues to explain that he had taken the intruder back for interrogation, but then you frown when he reveals the enemy had swallowed a suicide pill before any information could be gained
he has an inkling that someone in a high position of power is involved, since the pills are almost impossible to gain access to, but it cannot be ruled out as a coincidence
“hang on,” you pull down the top of your tunic in a hurry
yunho scrambles to cover his eyes and turns his head as he jokingly sputters out, “woah okay, this is moving a little fast don’t you think?”
you tug impatiently on the sleeve of his robe, telling him to look
yunho hesitates for another second before lowering his hands and realising you have-
“a suicide pill?” 
you look at each other, because this can only mean one thing
the pills are not a coincidence; the enemy is much closer than yunho would like
you’re both unsure how much time there is until the traitor decides to order someone else to assassinate yunho, or worse, decides to finish the job off themselves
but from that very night of discovery, you and yunho work together incessantly against a ticking time bomb
it’s a delicate balance between finding as many leads as you can and spreading out your investigations to stay under the radar
yunho tries to look further into the cyanide pills while you try to uncover any information regarding the order you had been given
whoever is behind it all has kept their tracks hidden well
there isn’t much to report from either of your ends whenever you sneak into the palace to meet up with yunho
but he makes it very hard for you to feel discouraged when he makes your meetings seem like casual catch ups between - you dare say - friends
you have yet to catch him by surprise whenever you drop down from the roof in front of him in an attempt to scare him; he has an uncanny ability to sense your presence
except, you think you prefer being unsuccessful, because your indignant grumbles never fail to bring out his toothy grin and an excited body jiggle
other times he is the one trying to fluster you
“remember that time you literally tried undressing yourself in front of me-”
“i was taking the pill out to show you!” 
you bring your thumb and index finger closer together in front of your face and squint at the gap
“i am this close to changing my mind and assassinating you after all”
he gets a kick out of it, pretending to beg for your mercy, “oh please spare me, your majesty”
other times, yunho teases you for always keeping your cowl and mask on
“bet it’s because you’re ugly or something,” he jokes
and you bite back that he had his face covered too when you both met, so you’re one to talk, ugly
“but since then i’ve always shown you my face as the crown prince. you can see me nice and clear,” he suddenly leans forward, so close you can see the dip of his cupid’s brow. “what do you think about me now?”
you swallow hard
you’re glad you have your mask on because you can feel your face rapidly heating up
“i think…” you gently cup his jaw, “you look better with your mask on,” as you nudge his face to the side
you cannot help but join in with your own chuckles at his laughter and boyish glee
and eventually, you two have a breakthrough
yunho manages to trace the cyanide back to a traveling merchant operating under the guise of selling rare herbs and medicine
in the transaction ledger, there is an unusually large purchase under the name of ‘lee minjun’
“i’m sure i’ve seen the name before somewhere, but i can’t remember where,” yunho huffs
you let out your own huff at his elbow that has very naturally taken a rest on your shoulder
pulling out a stack of paper, you spread it out onto the table before you two
they are past records of certain red sun missions that, upon looking back, seem suspicious
“i noticed a mark on a couple of them, a drawing or character perhaps? except none of them are fully intact. it’s almost like the paper was accidentally marked”
you point them out to yunho in hopes that he will have a better idea
he doesn’t - not at first
not until he chances upon two that vaguely align with each other to form a clearer image
“this-” yunho runs his hand through his hair, “this is butler lee’s stamp. my father’s butler.”
the king’s butler?
lee?
your eyes snap to yunho’s, just as his meet yours
“lee minjun”
you sink back in your seat
there’s now definite proof that the king’s butler is at the very least involved
the question of why and what for remains
in fact, you and yunho would not put it past the queen either to be involved too
there is a long moment of shared silence as you both mull over what this means for the future
yunho breaks the silence first
“after this all ends…do you want to work for me, officially?” he clears his throat, “will you stay by my side?”
after this all ends
you two must still uncover butler lee’s motives; likely part of a much grander scheme involving queen jeong too
you two must still bring down the whole monarch; with the support of red sun, yunho needs to sit on his rightful throne
the sun has yet to rise but you can see the faint hues of orange and twilight blue in the horizon
the new beginning is close
and at that, something in you relaxes
crumbles and disintegrates with utter relief
“it would be my honour to stay by your side forever, yunho”
and then you are removing your hood and mask, daring to breathe and feel alive and hopeful for once
ironically, yunho chokes on air
you glance at him to find that he is unable to meet your eyes
you think your eyes are deceiving you because-
the tips of his ears are a glowing red
you could definitely get used to seeing the usually calm and collected crown prince become a shy, blushing mess
the corner of your mouth rises with smugness, “like what you see?”
“you should really keep your hood and mask on,” he mumbles
“and why is that?” you humour him
he finally looks at you
and when he sees the shit-eating grin plastered across your face, his shoulders suddenly fill out again with confidence and cockiness to match yours
“because,” his voice deep and flirtatious, “with a pretty face like that, you’re going to distract me from my duties”
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yeosang
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pov: you're in an arranged marriage with him
ever since you could understand the words coming out of your parents’ mouths, you have known that you will be married to yeosang
it just made sense
for the respective princess and prince of two powerful kingdoms to join together, leading to increased power and stronger allies
it is tradition for the pair to meet their chosen spouse for the first time only when both parties have turned sixteen, and even then, subsequent meetings are rare until the time of the actual wedding
so you spend the first sixteen years of your life infatuated with the idea of your prince charming - of prince yeosang - wondering what he looks like, what his personality is like, and how you two will fall in love
and when you finally reach that long-awaited first meeting, prince charming is everything and more than what you have envisioned
if angels with broken wings were exiled to earth, they would look like yeosang
he is soft-spoken and slightly reserved, as any awkward teenager meeting their future spouse would be, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes overflow with adoration and his shoulders shake with exuberant giggles whenever his little sister, yeoreum, comes tottering into the room
he always bends down onto one knee to match her eye level, uncaring of the stains that mark his pants even as his mother narrows her eyes in disdain, and he listens with utmost sincerity when yeoreum tells him about the secret pink and glittery fairy she spotted in the courtyard 
they remind you of the relationship you share with your own little brother, juwon, who is barely half your age and height, yet has you wrapped around his little finger
you lean down closer with a hum at the soft tug on your dress to hear your little brother whisper conspiratorially into your ear, “he looks stupid”
if looks could kill, yeosang would be dead right now
you stifle a laugh as you flick juwon’s chin affectionately at his sudden display of childish jealousy
if anything, you’re pretty sure you are the one who looks stupid
stupidly in love
because walking away from that first meeting with yeosang and his family, you know that you are absolutely smitten for the prince
unable to quell the restlessness of having to wait until the next unforeseeable meeting, you pick up a quill that very same day you return to your palace and start writing
it takes you all night, the gentle gleams and winks of the stars keeping you company until they rotate shifts with the songs of the waking world
but by the time you have crossed out and scrunched your way through rolls and rolls of parchment paper, you are satisfied with the letter you have written
the letter addressed to prince yeosang, which you task eunju, one of your maids, with passing it to the royal couriers for delivery to the kang palace
it is a simple letter, thanking him for the enjoyable day, yet it holds the deeper message that you are interested in him and would like to become better acquainted before your marriage
you wonder whether his cheeks will flush a pretty red as his butler hands him your letter
whether he will trace his fingers delicately over the curve of your words
whether he will bite back a smile as he pictures you saying the words to him
two weeks pass, and you approximate the letter to have just been delivered to his kingdom
and although you desperately wish for him to immediately sit down with a quill in hand to pen out his reply, you wait and give him a week before you eagerly start counting down the days until the arrival of his letter
your whole life you have been able to wait patiently
you wonder what has changed now that mere weeks feel like an eternity
the day yeosang’s letter is due to arrive, you are sporadic bursts of giggles, twirls and skips throughout the palace
even juwon is starting to become sick of getting swept up into a crushing hug to the cheery tune of i loveee youuuu every single time you pass him
nothing can bring you down from cloud nine
only…the letter never comes
not the day after, not the week after, not the month after
you’re disappointed, of course, but you busy yourself with reasons why yeosang has not replied, and you don’t give up
you send him another letter, and then another, and another
sometimes you just tell him about your day - what made you smile, what made you sad, something interesting you saw, something your little brother said
other times you tell him about yourself - your hobbies, likes and dislikes, aspirations, fears 
and you also wonder about him
you ask what he likes, what he smiles at, what makes him sad, what his dreams are
with each letter that you hand over to eunju to be delivered, it becomes harder and harder to stay optimistic - not even the words of encouragement from your favourite maid lifts your spirits
you continue like this for over a year, still yet to receive a reply 
until-
you do.
it feels like you are brought back to that very night of your first meeting, feeling so very alive as hope and excitement cascade into your body the moment eunju hands you a letter with a smile
with shaking hands, you fumble to unpeel the wax seal and free the envelope’s contents - a single piece of paper, neatly folded
your mind races with anticipated words and explanations
perhaps he had been too shy to reciprocate your letters earlier
or perhaps your letters had been lost in transit
you unfold the parchment as the hairs on your skin raise in anticipation, only to find it blank save for one scrawled sentence in the middle of the paper-
stop sending me letters.
and just like that, the clock strikes twelve
your carriage reverts into a pumpkin
and your carefully curated story of prince charming disintegrates into ashes
you don’t write to him again.
years later, the stacks of parchment scrolls on the wooden desk of the guest room you are currently residing in feel like a fresh slap in the face each time your eyes land on them
they are a stark reminder of your very own letters, the cold rejection you received, and the irony of the only letter you ever received again following his being one from the kang monarchs, announcing the proceeding of the royal wedding between you and their son
now, only a few days newly-wed to yeosang, the king and queen are gracious enough to let you sleep in one of the guest rooms temporarily, under your claims of adjusting to a life in a new kingdom and as a wife
really, you are trying to avoid yeosang for as long as you can
you spend your time instead getting to know his little sister better, which is why you find yourself sitting side by side with yeoreum, legs dangling off the edge of your bed
she eyes the vase of flowers on your bedside table curiously, “did you buy that?”
“no,” you reach out to touch the baby’s breath, “someone delivered it to my room”
you had offhandedly mentioned to some of your staff the other day that flowers would make your room look more homey, and you had woken up the morning after to find the beautiful vase teeming with flowers next to you
“why?” you ask yeoreum when she hums thoughtfully
“it looks just like the vase in my brother’s room, but he’s weird about it. yeo never lets anyone touch it, much less have it”
you blanch a little, “in that case i’ll give it back to him later then”
“you don’t like it? or…you don’t like my brother? my brother talks about you a lot, you know,” she reveals
caught off-guard by her perceptiveness, you reveal that you have been hurt before
you don’t specify by what exactly or who it is that you’re talking about, but she seems to understand regardless
later that night, sweet yeoreum barges into yeosang’s room and with as much feistiness as she can muster, she glares at her brother and interrogates, “what did you do to make her upset?”
before he can so much as blink, yeoreum concludes, “you boys are dumb. go talk to her and fix it or something,” and then walks out with a huff
there’s no one there to witness it, but yeosang nods anyway
heart feeling a little heavy after your conversation with yeoreum, you head towards the kitchen to seek solace in the sweet pastry you are usually served each morning
the first time you tasted the danish pastry, decorated with strawberries and cream cheese, was when you had traveled to yeosang’s palace at the age of sixteen for your first meeting
you remember the blissful expression that had bloomed across your face with your initial bite, and no dessert ever captivated your tastebuds quite the same way ever again
if there is one good thing out of this arranged marriage with yeosang, then it would be the reunion between yourself and the strawberry danish
“your highness,” the head chef bows, followed by the rest of the staff in the kitchen, “how may we help you?”
when you ask for one of the pastries, the head chef apologises that there are none
“but we can make you one now, if you do not mind waiting”
you tell him not to go to the trouble and ease his worries, “i just thought there may have been leftover pastries”
“we make only one fresh every morning, specifically for you,” the chef explains, and confusion must settle across your features because he adds on, “his highness has expressed that you may like them”
oh?
flustered, you can only muster a short response of, “i do, thank you,” before you smile once more and excuse yourself
because of all people to notice and remember such a small detail, and then to go out of their way to put in the request with the kitchen on the off chance that it was still true, it was yeosang? 
first the vase, and now this
you feel something deeply buried inside of you start to stir but you rush to nip it in the bud
your head and your heart are beginning to wage war against each other and suddenly everything feels like it’s too much
when you reach your bedroom, you throw open the double doors to step out onto the balcony, welcoming the chilling breeze of the darkening sky
you’re tired of fearing rejection if you open up
you’re tired of questioning yeosang’s intentions
and on top of it all, you suddenly miss home and you miss your parents and you miss juwon and-
“are you okay?”
yeosang’s soft question startles you, having missed his knocking at your door
he walks closer to join you out on the balcony when he sees that the answer is obviously a no, and he prompts you again, “what’s wrong?”
thoughts of vases and strawberry pastries flit across your mind
you start with half truths
“just missing my little brother”
“you love him a lot, don’t you,” yeosang smiles sweetly, “i can see it in the way you take care of yeoreum”
you can’t help the heat that slowly creeps up the back of your neck and to your ears, because it implies that he’s noticed all the times you’ve showered his little sister with the same love you give to juwon
it implies he’s noticed you
“what’s your fondest memory of juwon?” he asks when you nod
something within you thaws slightly at the fact that yeosang remembers your little brother’s name
you step closer to the edge of the balcony so that you can overlook the garden outside your room a little clearer, resting your hand on the railing as yeosang waits patiently
“we used to have this game we played. we had a lot of gardenia flowers growing around our courtyard and juwon loved cutting some to make me a mini bouquet,” you pause to shake your head with a chuckle, “it drove our mother nuts”
“doesn’t sound like it stopped him from continuing though, did it?” yeosang questions with mirth
“no, it didn’t,” your heart aches with fondness. “he would use a certain number of gardenias and make me guess what phrase containing the same number of letters he had in mind” 
it never failed to tug your mouth into a smile whenever juwon giggled at your attempts to guess the flower phrase, even when most times he would bound away whilst singing answers like y-o-u s-t-i-n-k or d-u-m-b d-u-m-b
yeosang supports himself on the railing with one hand as he nearly folds in on himself in laughter, and before you know it, you too are gasping for air and wiping away tears from your eyes
when you both calm down relatively enough, only intermittent chuckles leaving your lips, yeosang clears his throat and scratches his neck awkwardly
“i know it might not be much, but maybe we can go out into town tomorrow and it might take your mind off things? and we can bring yeoreum along if that makes you feel more comfortable, because you’ve probably spent more time alone with her than you have with me?”
you don’t admit it, but you’re already feeling a little better, so you decide to tease, “are you asking me out on a date right now, kang yeosang?”
“oh, well, we’d be doing things a little backwards since we’re already like, married…but, yes? maybe? is that okay?”
it’s yeosang’s turn to flush a deep red as his usually composed demeanor is reduced to stutters, but you don’t notice under the faint glow cast by the moon now reigning the sky
“yeah, that’s okay”
you and yeosang smile fondly as your little trio stroll through a nearby town the following morning, his younger sister skipping ahead to peer at the colourful trinkets being sold at the market stalls, and your own small squad of royal soldiers following behind at a respectful distance
it’s kind of endearing how yeosang points out item after item, asking whether you like it or whether you find it pretty, in a not-so-subtle attempt to learn about your preferences
you have to stop him from buying you something from every second stall you both pass, but you’re unable to convince him from purchasing a small wooden toy as a gift for juwon, insisting that you give it to your little brother the next time you see him
the more you actually interact and talk with yeosang, the harder you find it to associate him with the memory of the yeosang in your rejected letters
because the equation of the letters, the vase and the pastries just does not add up
as you two sit under the awning of a small shop, watching yeoreum play with the shopkeeper’s dog, you find yourself unable to hold back anymore
“why didn’t you reply to my letters?” you break the silence, trying to hide the hurt laced in your voice
yeosang looks at you with wide eyes as his mouth stutters open
and in the smallest voice you have ever heard him speak with, he says
“you wrote me letters?”
your eyebrows knit together as your eyes dart back and forth between his, searching for any hint of deception
“too many to count,” you confess, “until you sent a letter telling me to stop…”
“impossible. i never got your letters” 
your head recoils back as you try to make sense of his words, “but-”
“wait,” he interrupts
yeosang reaches into his robes, pulling out a small, wooden block, extending it out closer to you as he asks, “do you recognise this?”
upon closer inspection, you realise it’s a square seal stamp
it has the character ‘姜’ carved into it and you’ve seen it enough times to know it represents the kang family name - but the inscription that stylises the border is unfamiliar
“not the seal, no”
he swallows apprehensively, “i stamp all my letters with this to certify authenticity”
you let his words sink in as they throw you into a sandstorm of bewilderment
“but then-”
but then who wrote the letter?
and where did all your letters go?
the only people who would have known about them would be the royal couriers and…eunju
a memory flashes through your mind - the moment she handed you a letter with a smile
no, not a smile, you realise
a smirk
you are simultaneously overwhelmed with betrayal, guilt and apologeticness
yeosang doesn’t push you for a response, and you come to recognise that you are also grateful
“i’m sorry for doubting you,” you tell him
it’s nowhere close to the amount of things you want to confess, but it is a start, one that yeosang picks up on and understands immediately
“no, i’m sorry you felt the need to doubt me,” he offers. “that i didn’t make you feel loved enough”
“but i did, actually. the vase and the pastries, then our conversation last night…and even today”
he blushes a deep red as you list the things off with your fingers
“you weren’t meant to find out about the first two,” yeosang admits as he ducks his head shyly
then he suddenly perks up with a sudden thought
he ruffles inside his satchel that had been abandoned to one side, mumbling, “my sister said i did something to upset you…so i um, got you these” 
he turns around to reveal a bouquet of flowers, looking a little rough for wear after being hidden in his bag all morning, but his clumsy consideration only serves to makes your heart skip dangerously
“forgive me?” he asks cheekily, and you both giggle at the absurdity of his question because it should very well be the other way around
“if you insist,” you take the bouquet into your hands
and finally, you allow the chains around your heart to fall away, “i can’t say no to my husband, can i?”
yeosang lets out a little squeak as you look at the bouquet more clearly, counting the number of flowers
you turn to ask if he remembers the game you told him about, but the way yeosang suddenly finds the patch of dirt near his foot absolutely fascinating tells you everything that you need to know
eight flowers
eight letters
i l-o-v-e y-o-u
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rueclfer · 4 months ago
Text
shut up, my moms calling // touya todoroki
when you sneak out to share a first at the river.
a/n: back on my touya b.s.
part two
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"Jesus, what the fuck happened?"
By the time you approached Touya, you were gasping for air. There he was leaning up against the fence, tossing his flashlight up in the air while he patiently waited for your arrival while it looked like you just came from an animal attack.
You didn't answer him. You were bent over, clutching onto the chain link fence with one hand and the other on your scraped knee as you tried to catch your breath.
"Fuck." You hiss. "God damn."
You look up to see his shit eating grin, holding back his laughter.
"Fuck off." You huff. "My...neighbor's light...came on...so I booked it." You say in between gasps of air.
"And your knee?" He cocked an eyebrow at you clutching onto your ripped jeans and bloodied knee.
"What do ya think? I ate shit." You groan, finally standing up straight. "How long have you been waiting?"
"Like 10-15 minutes? I told you, you should've just asked your dad to sleep over. All this could've been avoided." He shines his flashlight to your knee, illuminating the caked blood leftover on your knee and pants.
"You forget that my dad isn't your biggest fan." You shoot him a sideways glance as you begin to shrug off your backpack, lightly fanning yourself.
"True, but, he's friends with my mom, and my mom likes you so that's an automatic in. Rei would've vouch for you."
"I guess." You mutter under your breath. "Next time we'll have her call my dad and ask for me, then."
Touya slips off his own backpack and tosses it over the tall barrier, letting it softly thump onto the patch of dirt and dead leaves, following it with your own bag.
He starts his climb first, effortlessly making his way to the top and jumping straight off from there, landing into a squat. You followed suit, but of course there he was standing close by behind you to make sure you have all of your bearings and not slip.
"You got it?" He holds out his arms, anticipating your fall.
"Duh."
Once your feet hits the ground, you slip your backpack back on after dusting the remnants of dirt off.
"You have your flashlight?" He asked. "Or do you need one? I have an extra."
You whip out your flashlight from your back pocket and shine it straight onto his face, causing him to wince and block it with his hand.
"Perfect." He groan. "After we get past this tree, it's all rocky and shit, okay? So watch your step because I'm not going to carry you back if you fuck up your other knee."
You silently flip him off. After he returns the gesture, he begins to lead you two deeper into the woods, letting your flashlights guide your way. You weren't really sure where you were heading, but this morning Touya told you that he "knew a spot," so of course here you are now, walking through a forest.
"Touya, look." You whisper, clutching onto the strap of his backpack to stop him and and point your flashlight at the base of a nearby tree, revealing a frog perching on an exposed root. "It looks like you."
"And you look like the piece of dog shit next to it."
At some point, when you were you felt you had possibly walked into the danger zone of the forest and were ready to tell him that you should head back, he turns around and stops you first.
It was sudden, almost causing you to fall back.
"What the fu-" You began, about to scold him for startling you. He grabs your shoulder and holds a finger to your mouth. You press your lips together, searching his face for a sign as to what your reaction should be. Should you be panicking? Is there an animal nearby?
"Shut up and listen." He whispers, cupping his ears.
From the distance, you hear a soft murmuring of continuous running water. You mouth slightly gaped open.
"No way." You mouth, slowly growing into a wide smile. "How much farther?"
"Should just be up ahead. Let's go." He motions for you to continue following him.
After a few more minutes of trekking, the trees open up to a shallow river lined by rocks and boulders. The water was almost still from where you were standing, but from afar, you could hear it rushing down against more rocks that stood in the middle of a stream.
"This is so fucking cool." You beam, turning to him to see him holding onto a tree to take off his shoes.
You two ended up choosing a boulder to perch on, letting your feet hang into the cool water. You close your eyes and take in the hot summer night and ambiance of frogs and the chirping of crickets.
"I actually stole this spot from Natsuo, surprisingly. The nerd took his girlfriend out here to ask her out."
You gasp "Natsuo? A girlfriend?"
"I know." He laughs, keeping his gaze forward. "My little brother has a girlfriend. Hasn't even introduced her to the family yet, that fucker."
"Damn before us too. We really do have no game." You laugh at yourselves.
"Pshh, says you." He waves you off. "At least I've had my first kiss."
You jaw drops and your head snap towards him.
"What? How come you never tell me these things?" You whine. "When was this?"
"Ah, it's embarrassing." He turns his head away to avoid your gaze, obviously regretting revealing that bit of information. In the darkness only illuminated by moonlight, it was hard to tell, but you just knew his ears were turning red. "It was when I was like 8."
"Oh." You deflate. "I mean, that barely counts" You roll your eyes.
"Still counts though."
"Tell me about it then. How was it?" You couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity. You were at the bright age of 17 with no experience with romance, let alone a kiss, and you were surprised to hear that your best friend since childhood was somehow one step ahead of you in this category without even trying.
He sits and thinks for a moment, lightly kicking his feet in the water. "Kinda gross. 8 year olds are inherently little grubby and unhygienic things, so imagine two of those pressing their mouths together."
"Figures." You sigh. "We're such losers."
"Who is we? Maybe you're a lovesick loser, but I'm perfectly fine." He flicks water at you, which you return with a handful of river water.
"You really haven't kissed anyone since?" You wiped your hand off on your pants.
"Nope." He popped.
"You're almost 18." You mutter. "Don't you think having a real first kiss is like, a mark of growing up? Maturity?"
"Mmm no I don't think so. That's just life, ya know? It just comes at you and I bet tons of people don't get their first kiss until well into adulthood." He shrugs. "Why do you want yours so bad?"
"Sometimes I feel so behind everyone else." You bring your feet up out of the water and hug your knees, using it as a head rest as you look over at Touya. "Everyone has an admirer, everyone has a romantic interest, everyone has kissed someone, except for me."
"You want your first kiss, then?" He mutters under his breath, looking away from you.
"Huh?" You scoot yourself closer to him, leaning into to his direction. "What did you say?"
"Do you... want your first kiss, then." He says a little bit braver this time, slightly meeting your eye from the side.
Your mouth gaped open and your hands suddenly go sweaty.
"From.. you?" Your eyes widen in surprise.
"I mean, yeah. If you want. Since you're so desperate for it" He starts playing with the drawstrings of his hoodie. "Only if you want to though." He quickly adds on.
"You're fucking with me. Do you want to? I know I'm bitching and moaning about it, but you don't have to do charity work, ya know?" You nervously laugh.
"It's not charity work." He quips back "We're best friends, so... I don't know, isn't it easier to do all that with someone you know and trust? If it makes you feel better, I guess this would be my first real kiss too."
You blow out a long breath of air. "Okay... I guess you're right. Best friends.. but, I don't know what I'm doing. Do you?"
"No, I don't." He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "I just figure it's all improvising."
You turn to face him, motioning him to do the same. He takes his feet out of the water and criss cross them, scooting close enough to where your knees meet.
You flick on the flashlight and set it in your lap, letting it slightly illuminate his face. His face is bright red, but you wouldn't dare tell him. Not in this moment. Yours probably was too- you could feel the heat off of it.
"Can't we do this in the dark?" He whines, blocking the light with his hand. "It's embarrassing."
"How am I supposed to see what I'm doing?" You shoot back. "You want me to pretend like it's not you, or something?"
"No." He quietly mutters. "Your eyes are going to be closed anyways. How are you not even a bit embarrassed by this?" He rubs his pink stained cheeks.
"Because you're my best friend, and I love you, and this is all for the purpose of science." You pat his knee, comforting him all while your heart was racing and your hands were clamming up. "And this is your idea so if this blows up in our faces, it's your fault."
"Okay, fine whatever." He rolls his eyes. "For science."
"Put your hands behind your back." You instructed.
"The fuck? Why?"
"Because if you touch me, I'll panic." You pout. "Please."
"Every guy you kiss you're gonna ask them to sit on their hands?" He cocks an eyebrow at you.
"Shut up and do it, Touya, before I push you in this river."
He grumbles to himself for a second, but does as you say, interlocking his fingers behind his back.
You place both of your hands on his shoulders, leaning your faces in close. You look down at his lips, parted in anticipation. You could hear his slight heavy breathing layered over the running water in the background.
"Say stop whenever, okay? Okay. You ready?" You whisper. "Not nervous?"
He slowly nods his head, glancing down to your own lips, causing your stomach to flip. "Stop talking and just do it."
You weren't sure who leaned in first, but before you knew it, your lips were connected.
Soft. Warm. Slow. Running out of breath.
Your hands unclench his shoulders and move down to his knees, letting yourself comfortably relinquish control. Your body was on fire, and you were ready to jump up and hide after this, but you kept reminding yourself that this could be considered his first kiss too. You two were doing this together.
Suddenly, you feel his hands placed on top of your own, causing you to tense.
"Don't freak out." He breaks away for a moment to mutter against your lips, before continuing to let his hand climb up.
Right as his hand gets comfortable against the side of your neck, his phone resting in the pocket of his hoodie suddenly starts vibrating, causing you two to pull back, and snapping into realization of what you two had just done.
With wide eyes, you instantly flip off the flashlight and turn your head to avoid his gaze as you lightly pant to catch your breath.
"Fuck." He mutters, running a hand through his hair, looking at the caller-ID.
"Who is it?" You whisper-yell. "Who's calling you at this fucking hour?"
"Shut up, my mom's calling." He leans his head back and groans, rubbing his face in his hands. He hops off the boulder and began feeling around the ground for his shoes.
"Hello?" He slowly answers into the phone.
"Touya! Where are you?" You could hear Rei scold him loud enough even when she wasn't on speaker.
"Sorry, mom. I couldn't sleep so i'm just out and about." He press his phone against and cheek and shoulder as he begins putting his shoes back on, in which you follow suit.
"Is Y/N with you? Please tell me she is, because her dad called."
"FUCK!" You mouth silently to him. "Say no. He's gonna beat your ass. Say no." You whisper to him.
Touya looks at you for a moment, biting his lower lips while debating on what to say to his mom.
"Don't lie to me either. I will find out." She warns.
"Yeah she is, but we're fine." He sighs in defeat.
"Sorry." He mouths to you, reaching his hand up to ruffle your hair.
He starts to pace around, making it harder for you to hear her tucked into his ear.
"No we're just sitting."
"Yes sober....unfortunately." He lightly chuckles. "Okay, okay, sorry." he quickly follows up.
"By the river."
"Yup we have flashlights, pepper spray, and everything."
"She's fine."
"Yes I do know what time it is."
"Mom!" He exclaims, glancing your way with an embarrassed expression. "Yes! We are fully clothed. Stop it."
"We're going to head back right now."
He finally comes closer to you, making a choking motion to his own neck, causing you to giggle at his unfortunate and uncomfortable conversation with his mom.
"Touya." Rei sighs. "Bring her home safe okay? I'll talk to her dad, but we're going to have a chat about this later tomorrow."
"Can Y/N sleep over?" He shoots you a sly glance in which you return with a glare.
"Hello?"
"She hung up on me." He slides his phone into his pocket and shrugs. "Wasn't a no, though."
"Fucking idiot." You huff, gathering your things.
You two began your long trek back towards where you entered, walking side by side now. The air was thick around you two in tension and awkwardness as you waited for the other to bring it up or start a conversation to avoid it all together.
"Thoughts on your second, first kissed?" You break the silent wall and glance up at him.
"Mmmm definitely better than the first." He smirks down at you. "How was it for you? You feel okay?"
"Yeah." You mutter. "It was pretty good." You start "For the purpose of science, ya know."
"For the purpose of science." He repeats. "Any other experiments you wanna try while we're at it?"
"Touya!" You gasp and hit his arm. You pull the collar of your shirt over your nose to cover an incoming blush creeping up your neck.
"I'm kidding!" He laughs at your reaction. "Why are you so embarrassed all of the sudden now that we did it?"
"God you're annoying." You huff. "Why are you all of the sudden not? And flirting with me? Who even are you?"
"I'm just teasing." He nudges you playfully.
"Don't fall in love, now." You warn. "You wanna ruin this friendship so bad. In more ways than one." You mutter, returning the nudge.
"Yeah, whatever." He rolls his eyes, but landed his gaze back on you.
You continue the walk in silence, letting the back of your hands brush every now and then. You would blame the blush tattooed to your cheeks on the humid summer air, and avoid his gaze at all cost until he says something about it (he definitely will), and when you sneak back into his house, you'll go straight to his room where he'll bandage and clean up your knee and let you sleep in his bed while he'll sleep on the floor right beside you. He'll wait for your breathing to steady out into sleep and then he'll silently curse himself out and relive that moment with you at the river.
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bonus scene:
the next day when the whole house is awake, fuyumi's sisterly senses slaps her silly.
she just KNOWS that some shit went down between you two. she's naturally so observant, so when she sees you two padding out into the living room for your morning tea with your hair messy, cheeks flushed with a shy smile on your lips, subtle glances at one another and his oversized shirt hanging on your shoulders, she just knew she has to ask one of you about your late night rendezvous.
it's not the first time she's seen you like this in the morning. you had been close to the family and her older brother's best friend for years now, but she instantly sniffed out a different aura emanating from you two.
"touya, can you help me grab something from the top of my closet?" fuyumi motions for touya to follow her to her bedroom.
"sure." he shrugs nonchalantly. "keep my tea warm." he shoots you a coy wink.
touya follows fuyumi into her room, a silence falls between then until the moment she clicks her door closed.
"before you ask, nothing happened." he rolled his eyes as if he was already anticipating her interrogation.
maybe her brother's instincts were much stronger than her's...
"liar!" fuyumi squeals. "it's all over your faces! mom was so pissed at you last night, where did you go?"
"we went by the river where nat asked out his lady." he shrugs.
"and then? i know something happened!" she presses on "tell me!"
"its nothing. just that.. we might have...kissed." he tries hiding the smile behind his arm. "crazy, right?"
she silently squeals some more, jumping and slapping her brother's arm in celebration.
she had known about her brother's crush for a while now, how could she not? they were only a couple of years apart, so it would be impossible to keep things a secret from one another.
"and what else? did you ask her out?" she looks up at him with stars in her eyes.
"one step at a time, little sis. stay tuned." he pats her head and goes back to join you and attend to his tea, which you of course, kept warm.
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ririblogsss · 8 months ago
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what if Danny give no fu-ks
Ok hear me out, Dannys obsession has never truest been confirmed by the show itself (that I remember) I've seen a lot of people say his obsession comes from wanting to help / protect people. But what if he feels as though that he is now doing more damage than good, after all there are a lot of people getting hurt as colateral damage from the chases he has to go on. Or simply when he has to run away from getting captured.
What if one night he was up late and saw a post about a tragedy that happened because he slipped up (it wasn't even his fault, but he still blames himself for everything). And then he starts looking at all the bad comments against him ignoring all the good ones saying how much Danny Phantom has helped Amity. Because Danny is still human and confirmation bias is real. Imagine how he felt the moment he realized that he was causing people to get hurt instead of keeping them save.
Image the desperation clawing at him with the realization that he has never been able to fully manage his obsession. it makes him sad, desperate, angry.
His entire self is filled with too many emotions at the sametime he isn't even able to identify them and catalogue them properly like Jazz taught him.
and then everything stops and he feels nothing.
Completely and utterly numb.
Like his whole reason to keep going suddenly disappears.
And it has.
He gave up on his obsession and now he has to make / get a new one.
But it's not that easy.
This drastic change could've ended any ghost as they run on (live off) emotions.
Luckily because he's a Halfa, so that has given him the upper hand. Unfortunately it makes it so that he is completely devoid of any emotion.
Months go by and people immediately notice changes, the more drastic one is that Phantom went missing, and eventually a lot of ghost that where coming in looking for him stop. Amity Park is no longer populated by ghosts, and slowly the GIW started to retreat from Amity going to another place following a lead that says there are more ghost activities up north.
But those changes aren't the only ones noticeable. Dannys classmates and teachers can vouch that Danny has changed. Most say he was always quite , and others say he looked down right depressed. Danny didn't do much in classes not that he paid attention before. Its just this time it seems that its not out of being sleepy or anxious about another ghost attacking the school instead Danny looks like he coundn't give less of a fu-k about anything.
He never smiles anymore not even when his favorite subjects (mechanics and space) are brought up. Not even a quirk of a smile. The school decided to contact his parents about Dannys new behaviors. That includes skipping classes, not handing in work, not doing the assigned work in class ect....
And its not like his parents havent noticed, they've had more time in their hands since they aren't using hours of the day/night going out hunting anymore. and they have witnessed their son become a shell of himself. They don't know what to do, and they don't want to worry Jazz about it because she's at collage and needs to focus on her studies.
So when the school contact them and told them that the behavior is the same in school they decided major changes needed to happen. Starting with a change of environment.
Maddie and Jack decided that Amity park was too big of a city with too many people. They could nearly see the stars at night because of the light pollution, hence they decided to move next door to Alicia, Maddie sister, home in SmallVille.
They decided it was the best choice, Danny would be surrounded by nature and he could do online classes that would go the pace he wanted. The move was immediate, the day off they packed everything sold the house and moved.
They only stopped to say goodbye to Danny's friends. A small bye and hug later they were on a 7 hour road trip to their new home.
When they got there the old resident handed them the keys of the home and told them to ignore the their neighbors 'The Kents' as they often made a lot of noice and had group gatherings every month.
The one thing Jack and Maddie forgot to double check was if the house was an actual house or a farm house. Sounds similar, but completely different as they now had 2 cows, 16 chickens, 1 rooster, and 3 pigs to take care off.
Danny was put on duty of taking care of the animals, such as feeding them on time and making sure they were healthy. Jack and Maddie made more of the heavy weight as to re building broken fences and fixing the questionable roof.
(The first thing Danny did when meeting all the animals was name them. After all this was about all the interaction he was going to do.)
Danny didn't have time to think about his lost obsession or his lack of emotions as he was now too busy making sure each animal was taken care off.
Marcy and linda (the cows) were danny's favorite they were very gentle and he felt that they could understand him when he spoke to them the stories of his vigilante past.
On the other hand The Chickens were a nightmare, Glinda was cool as she never chased him down. But Matilda and Bethany were a nightmarish duo spiteful too when he was seconds late to the finding time. Mark the rooster was chill he mainly acted as of he was part of the group that needed protection.
Marice, Betty, and Miss Piggy were the chillest of the bunch never gave Danny any trouble when feeding them and always made a point that they loved their new mudbath installation that Danny made for them on his first 2 days on the farm.
A month after arriving at the farm house Danny noticed that mark was missing. Danny looked everywhere around the property and saw him from afar, at the road. So Danny did the sensible thing anyone would do when spotting a run away pet, and that is call their name at the top of your lungs whilst running after them.
naturally Mark the escape artist run the opposite direction. By the time Danny caught up to him Danny didn't recognize the house he was infant off. So with Mark comfortably in his arms He swears he can see a smug look on marks face. Danny turned away from the house to start his walk back to the farm, but he was met with a kid his age looking at him with distrust.
"Ehhh look kid Im sorry to have crossed the properties border but Mark here" Danny made a point to acentuate Mark in his arms "Runaway from me this morning and I've been trying to catch him ever since, anyways I need to go feed the girls"
The kid starred at him for a second "OMG your from the new family in Mr.duncans farm right? in Aver ST.?" and wow the kid was like a ray of sunshine.
"Yea-" Danny could even finish his sentence before the kid cut him off by starting to talk a mile a minute about how he was so exited to meet people his age that lived near by and how farm chores were harder that normal house chores.
"Jon, give him time to respond. Im Damian this is Jon" Danny jumped he hadn't noticed the second kid at all
"Oh yeah... sorry about that what's your name?" The kid (Jon) slightly less enthusiasm, a bit embarrassed if his tone of voice was anything to get by.
"Danny, Im 15" he responded before he started walking away after all he did need to get in time to feed the chickens unless he wants to suffer their furry. Danny shuddered at the memory that popped up in his head.
"Wait!!! I just thought we could be friends cause we live close by u know" Jon said catching up with Dannys steps. Damian was following from behind.
"Sure kid I don't care" Dannys voice was monotone much like it had been for months.
"Hey were not kids for your information, Im 14 and Damians 16 soon to be 17, so if anything you night be the actual kid!" Danny chuckled slightly it was more similar to releasing air from his lips than a laugh.
Soon a quite and enjoyable science encompassed the group as they went to Dannys home.
"Hmm... you're hold on Mark is adequate and the your determination for getting home in time for feeding is acceptable" Damian spoke up after a while of the passive silence.
"yeah and what is It to you" Danny was slightly urked by Damians default setting speach. He told him as such.
Jon blanched before erupting into giggles that sent him to lay down on the grass uncontrollably laughing. Damians right eyebrow quirked up in what Danny assumed was amusement.
Thus a new friendship grew that day.
They often gathered at Dannys or Jons yard to have picnic in the weekends (as Damian and Jon has school in Metropolis on week days) and hangout with the animals. Danny found out that Damian was a vegetarian and that he had various animals at home. One time he brought his Great Dane Titus, who bodied Danny on sight to give him kisses.
Also Damian was Damian Wayne as in bruce Wayne, Batman sugar daddy. When he said that, Jons milk flew out of his nose and Damian choked on his cucumber wrap. Even Titus gave him a judgemental stare.
Slowly Danny started to smile more, laugh every so often. And things were feeling so much better after not being able to feel anything for a while.
Jazz, Aunt Alicia and especially Maddie and Jack felt so relived to see that Danny was slowly coming back to them.
Danny to this day backs the fact that Mark knew something and planned the whole thing.
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fuctacles · 3 months ago
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one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven
extras: | 🐈 | 🐾 | 🐈 |
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Eddie was lowkey disgusted by how his uncle would talk about one of his neighbors. No, he doesn't think it's bad for old people to fall in love or have crushes. But it's weird to know these things about his own uncle. 
And it's also sad to watch, because it's been months of Stephanie this, Stephanie that, and nothing came of it, so he felt safe to assume the infatuation was one-sided. So when he tells his uncle he can't go feed her cats that week, he figures it's for the best. And not only because of Wayne's twisted ankle. To his surprise though, he doesn't seem fazed; he just waves his hand and says:
"Yeah, yeah, I know. No climbing the stairs with this thing." He pokes the cast with his crutch. "I've already volunteered you anyway."
Eddie raises his eyebrows because he surely misheard that.
"You did what now?"
"Told Stephanie I'll send you to feed her cats," Wayne says, confirming his fears.
"Why?! She has so many other neighbors!" Eddie points out, gesturing vigorously around the room, implying but meaning the flats surrounding them. 
Wayne clicks his tongue at him.
"Would you let in just any of your neighbors into your home? She already trusts me, and I'm vouching for you."
Eddie gapes at him, hating that he's making a valid point. Damned be his old man and his reasonable thinking. He crosses his arms because while it makes sense, it doesn't mean Eddie can't be angry about it. 
"When?"
"She's visiting her friend this weekend so she asked for Saturday evening and Sunday morning. And stay with them for a while if possible, so they don't go crazy. Ah, and the plant in the kitchen needs watering."
"Great," Eddie grits through his teeth. He's so delighted at the prospect of spending time with some old lady's cats. The whole place probably stinks of cat piss and he'll definitely kill the plant as soon as he touches it. (It was his only superpower, which is not what he aimed for when his five-year-old had been praying, thanks for nothing, Jesus.) He just hopes he won't have to meet her. Hearing some old hag complain about his clothes, hair, and general adolescence was the last thing he wanted on his weekend off. But, alas...
"She asked you to come over tomorrow so she can show you where everything is."
Eddie groans. 
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It's a Friday afternoon, he's at his uncle's taking a break from college and work. He should be sharing a beer with the old man, complaining about the coursework, the professors, and other students, not picking him up from the hospital, and running errands while his foot is in a cast. And certainly not meeting up with old stinky spinsters. 
To add insult to injury, Miss Stephanie, (which, by the way, is such a typical old hag name) lives two floors higher and the elevator is perpetually broken. Not too high, but high enough for Eddie's anemic lungs to start collapsing. 
He stops around the corner to steady his breath, because regardless of his overall attitude, he didn't want to worsen the first impression. He already refused to 'dress like a decent man' and didn't want to wheeze into the lady's face on top of it. 
Once his lungs are functioning properly again, he walks into the hallway, looking for number 54 as Wayne instructed. He knocks on the door, hoping he didn't mess it up and is at the right place. What if it was 45?
It must have been because he was told Stephanie Harrington lives alone. 
"Uh, sorry, I must have—"
"Are you Eddie?" The woman who opened the door takes him in. At her feet, a tabby cat peers curiously at the new human.
"Uh, yeah? I'm looking for Miss Stephanie?" he offers awkwardly. Maybe that's the friend? Or a sister?
But the woman extends her hand and smiles brightly.
"That would be me, but please call me Steph. I wish I could drill that into Wayne's thick skull." She rolls her eyes fondly.
Her big, gorgeous eyes, framed by thick lashes. She's not an old hag, she could be in her forties at best. She's tall and curvy and her hair looks straight out of a shampoo commercial. She's gorgeous. Eddie shakes her hand in a daze.
"Hi," he croaks as he's ushered inside. 
"Come in, come in! I've heard so much about you, it's great to finally see you in person. I must say," she turns around and gives him a quick once-over. "Wayne's stories didn't do you justice."
Did she just check him out?
Eddie clears his throat, suddenly dry like his elbows during winter.
"Uh, same to you."
"Yeah?" She puts her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. "What does he say about me?"
"Good things only," Eddie assures her. 
"So you're saying I'm a bitch." She squints at him.
"No!" His eyes widen. "What?!" 
"Well, if he's saying only good things about me, and you say they don't describe me right..." 
Eddie gets the point she's making and quickly shakes his head.
"No, he just made you sound like a crazy old cat lady, and you're..." He waves his hand uselessly. "Not that."
She sighs softly, shoulders sagging a little. It would be easy to miss but Eddie's senses are heightened after his fuck up.
"I kinda am, though," she says with a shrug. 
Eddie feels the need to reassure her somehow.
"Well, you're not eighty and your place doesn't smell like cat litter, I think you're fine."
She barks a laugh, it's low and surprised and Eddie's cheeks are red because he's just digging further into the hole he's in, isn't he?
"Good to know the bar is so low."
Eddie groans, tired of doing damage control that's not controlling anything.
"I'm gonna shut up now."
"Please don't." Steph smiles wide and teasingly. "You're a funny one. Just like your uncle told me."
Eddie scoffs. He's going to have a word or two with the old man once he's back.
"Great, this is exactly the impression I was hoping to make."
At his words, the woman eyes him up and down again, and he can feel his cheeks heating up.
"Yeah? Not as the local punk satanist?" she teases, making Eddie bristle.
"Metalhead," he corrects instinctively and immediately winces.
"Ah, my bad. I'm not good at the subcultures thing." She smiles apologetically but it doesn't read well with how clearly amused she is. "Anyway, here's the plant I want you to water tomorrow evening. Just like, half a glass."
Right. Plants. Cats. He came here on a mission.
"Come on, I'll show you my cats."
There's only three of them and they come rushing from all corners of the flat at the rustle of a catnip bag. Eddie never saw high cats so he's glad to have this opportunity now. Stephanie points to the tabby he saw earlier.
"This is Dart, she's not actually mine, but my friend couldn't keep her at the dorms. This is Garfield," she points to the orange cat, making Eddie huff a laugh. She grins. "Yeah, don't tell anyone, but he's my favorite," she whispers, to which Eddie mimics zipping his mouth shut. 
Lastly, she points to the black cat rolling on the carpet. 
"And this is Arwen."
Eddie frowns.
"Like, The Lord of the Rings Arwen?"
"Yeah," Steph sighs. "Dustin named her. He's the friend I've mentioned. Dart is short for D'Artagnan and I've fought teeth and nail for Garfield not to be called Pippin."
"Pippin is a great name, though," Eddie points out.
"Maybe," she huffs, crossing her arms. "But I wanted one for myself, okay? Not everything has to be about Dustin."
"Is Dustin like, your brother or something?" 
"Kinda?" She frowns. "We're not actually related but I babysat him, and then we became friends. He just stuck around, somehow." The words sound angry but her face betrays the fondness she has for her friends. 
"That's nice," he offers. "I'm an only child, never met any cousins, and only ever had friends my age."
"Well, good for you. Maybe if I had friends my age I wouldn't be living alone with a bunch of cats."
Eddie frowns. 
"Hey, now..."
She cuts him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. 
"I'll show you where the food is." 
Eddie's in a daze when he comes back downstairs, only realizing his visit ended when he's standing in his uncle's living room. He's been gone for only half an hour but it feels longer. 
"How did it go?" his uncle asks, pulling him out of his reverie. 
Edie turns to him and blinks, fighting the cotton around his brain.
"Fine?" he offers. "She's not as old as I expected," he admits bluntly. His uncle snorts.
"What, just because she lives alone with her cats you assumed she's on her deathbed?"
Eddie winces. It's exactly what he did.
"Well, the people in her life weren't kind to her, so now she relies on her pets. Nothing wrong with that." Wayne shrugs. 
"What do you mean?" Eddie frowns, curious. Concerned. He goes to the kitchen, not wanting to seem too eager to get an answer, and grabs a beer for himself and his uncle. He opens the junk drawer to find an opener and hears his uncle answer from the adjacent living room space. 
"She doesn't say much about it and I never asked, but she's always alone on the holidays. Her friends visit a few days before or after."
Eddie walks back in and hands his uncle the opened bottle. 
"Thanks, son."
He nods and settles heavily in an armchair. Focusing his gaze on the label peeling off of his beer, he hums thoughtfully.
"No family?"
"Seems so." Wayne nods solemnly. "I think it was a conflict of lifestyle choices, but I'll be honest, I'm basing it off of rumors and my own assumptions." He scratches his cheek, frowning at the wall. "It's not my place to pry, though I offered to hear her out if she ever felt like needing an ear." He sighs. "I'm just trying to be a good neighbor. Invited her for dinner over Thanksgiving, when you couldn't come. I was surprised she's into basketball," he muses. 
Eddie was seeking answers and now was even more confused.
"You invited Miss Stephanie. For a dinner?" He raised his eyebrows. 
"Yes. She was alone, I was alone, figured I could at least ask. I'm still surprised she agreed. She declined all my other offers."
"Wow." A teasing smile creeps on his lips against his will. "You've been inviting a lot of women since I moved out?"
"Listen," Wayne takes on his stern voice and it takes all of Eddie's willpower not to cackle. He can see his uncle's mustache twitch. "Stephanie is a lovely lady, but she's way too young for an old man like me. And this old man is too old for romance anyway. Besides—" he cuts himself off like he realized he was saying too much. Which, of course, piques Eddie's curiosity. 
"Besides?"
Wayne shrugs.
"I don't think I'd ever be ready for someone like her."
Eddie makes a confused face. 
"The fuck does that mean?" he asks, irritated. 
"Rumors and speculations, son."
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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago
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crushing - takuma ino
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word count: 3k warnings: i think none summary: ino's not great at making moves and you're not great at picking up on them. either way, you're undeniably crushing on each other. a/n: this is my first ino fic! i don't usually post something immediately after finishing it but i really wanted feedback on this one before i wrote bigger n better fics for him :3 ___
Takuma Ino was not a desperate man.
At least he hoped he didn’t come off that way whenever he crossed paths with (y/l/n) (y/n).  He really hoped he didn’t.  Because every day he spent at Jujutsu Tech, he went out of his way to ‘accidentally’ bump into her as many times as possible.  
His personal best was twenty-five.  That day he’d stayed well past sunset to finish the paperwork he’d neglected, but he still stands by his choices.
Nanami claimed that if he had a crush on the young manager, then he should just ask her out already, but Ino didn’t think it was that easy.  Not because he was  nervous- of course not! He just wanted to be certain that she would agree to go out with him before making a move.  That wasn’t a ridiculous notion, was it? 
It wasn’t ridiculous.  It just meant things moved… slowly.
“Ino, hey,” 
(y/n’s) drawn out of her conversation with Maki when she sees the Grade Two Sorcerer approaching in the hall.  There’s a soft smile of familiarity on her face, unlike the student beside her who rolled her eyes and slumped against the wall, knowing that it would take twice as long to have her paperwork looked over.  This wasn’t the first time Maki had witnessed the perfect distraction that was Takuma Ino.  It was already the fourth time this week, and just like every other time, (y/n) fell for it right away.
Just as he approaches the both of them, a look of confusion flashes across (y/n’s) face, and she tucks the forgotten paperwork against her chest as she tilts her head at him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to Yokohama? I thought you were assigned to that Grade One curse with the whole…” She pauses as she makes an indefinite shape with her hands, “Explosive thing?” 
“I’m about to head out for it now, but, you know,” He shrugs his shoulders, a smile forming on his face the longer he looks at her.
The first time he’d laid eyes on her he’d done a cartoonish double take, which unfortunately Nanami bore witness to.  She’d been walking and chatting animatedly with Ijichi- who seemed less passionate about the conversation but was an attentive listener nonetheless- and every time he’d seen her since, Ino felt the same lurch in his heart that was the desire to linger near her just a little longer.
Before he could finish his thought, Maki was speaking up first.
“You just wanted to show up late?” She asked dryly, her expression anything but amused by the sight of young love.
“I’m not late,” He chuckles nervously, shaking his head.  “I just wanted to stop by my good luck charm before I left” He claims with a little more confidence before he grins at (y/n).
She laughs at the comment, and Maki can’t help but roll her eyes just a little bit.  Typical.  Surely she’d swoon over the flirty comment and then drop it completely, just like she always did.
“Yeah yeah,” She mused, just like Maki expected.  “Go, don’t get yourself in trouble again.  I don’t think Nanami will keep vouching for you” 
“Sure he will,” Ino waves a dismissive hand, but judging from the way he’s already turning away and breaking into a jog, (y/n) and Maki can see through the nonchalant act.  “But it’ll be quick! I’ll have the shortest report ever for you!” He hollers from down the hall.
(y/n’s) still chuckling once he’s out of sight.  Maki huffs in aggravation.
“I can’t believe you lead that guy on.  You’re gonna have to let him down easy if you don’t want him to have a stroke”
“What?” (y/n) shakes her head at the student’s accusation.  “I don’t lead him on, we just get along” 
“You lead him on” Maki deadpans.  (y/n) holds her paperwork a little tighter against herself, and the defensive action doesn’t go unnoticed.
“This isn’t appropriate, I won’t allow for this to be a silly rumor of some s-” 
“Gojo Sensei says that he’ll never make a move unless you do it first” Maki shrugs.
All professionalism flies out the window in an instant as (y/n’s) face goes blank, her eyes blinking wide as she stares back at the student in utter disbelief.
“He did?” She mumbles.  
Maki nods in confirmation.
(y/n) glances around herself to ensure their conversation would be a private one, before shuffling forward and lowering her voice.
“Well… what else did he say?” ___
To say that (y/n) had a bit of a crush on the Auspicious Beast Summoner would be an understatement.  From the day he’d fallen in front of her- literally, he fell down half a flight of stairs and she’d rushed to make sure he was alright- there was something exciting about him.  He was so kind, and funny, and he so obviously went out of his way to talk to her that she slowly found her heart fluttering more and more whenever he was around.
All this time she’d thought he was just friendly, and was eager to have a companion at Jujutsu Tech that was his age.  Why else would he spend so much time around a manager when there are much cooler, much stronger people around? It was no secret what he thought of Nanami, and while (y/n) was proud of her work, she simply couldn’t compete with the skill of a sorcerer.
Usually she wasn’t one to listen to rumors, especially from a source like Gojo Satoru.  He may have been a friend-of-sorts to her, but that didn’t mean (y/n) trusted him for a second.  Gojo was a good guy, but he was the kind of guy to stir the pot when he was bored, and playing matchmaker was just a game to him.  So despite everything Maki had told her, she didn’t necessarily believe it.  She was just curious, that’s all.
And the only reason she was headed off to Ino’s office after being notified he’d returned from his mission was just to address the rumors, that’s all.  She was doing him a favor by letting him know what the other sorcerers were gossiping about.  There couldn’t possibly be an ulterior motive laced in there as well.
His door is open when she reaches the small workspace, but he doesn’t seem to notice when she appears there, leaning into the door frame while she takes in the crude office.  
Calling it an office didn’t even feel correct.  There was a desk and a computer, and a semi-comfortable looking rolling chair that Ino was sitting in.  He hadn’t realized there was a visitor at the door seeing as he had his head hanging over the back of it, his mask pulled down and his hands pressed into his face.  (y/n) had to bite back the chuckle that threatened to come out of her, assuming there was more to report in his paperwork than he’d assumed and was now overwhelmed by it.
With a soft tap of her knuckles on the doorframe, (y/n) makes her presence known.
“Need some help?” 
Ino jolts up so suddenly his chair is sent backwards, rolling away from the desk and tipping out of balance too, but he’s quick to steady himself, staring at her sudden figure at his door with wide eyes.  It’s the only part of his expression she can make out, seeing as he’s still got his mask pulled over his face.
“(y/n)!” He greets her louder than he intended, but he had yet to shake off his surprise in seeing her.  A fond smile tilts the corners of her mouth, unable to be helped as she watches him awkwardly scramble in his seat.  “How long have you been standing there?” 
“Long enough to consider leaving if you were crying under there” She teases, finally stepping foot into the room.  Her eyes wander the bare gray walls, a slight frown taking over at how empty the whole space feels.
“No, I’m not-” Before he continues, Ino’s quick to yank his mask off his face, pulling it off his head completely and dropping it on his desk.  “What brings you here?” He changes the subject completely, his eyes never leaving her figure as she wanders around the room as if looking for something.
He realizes then that she’s never seen his office- not that there was much to see, as she was coming to find- but nonetheless it’s odd that she’s the one approaching him for once.  It was always Ino searching around the halls of Jujutsu Tech for her, not the other way around.
“So empty,” (y/n) comments quietly, and he’s not sure if she was talking to herself or him.  “You don’t like to decorate?” She asks, this time turning to him.
“I’m not in here very much,” He admits, a sheepish smile on his face.  “I take most of my paperwork home.  If I’m here I’m not usually in the office” 
“Yeah,” (y/n) smiles softly, ducking her head to hide the way her face warms up.  “That’s cause you’re usually trying to bother me” 
She doesn’t see it, but Ino’s face lights up.  He bears a wide grin and his eyes gleam with excitement.  She was acting quite out of character today.  Usually he was the one teasing her.  This was a real treat.
“Bother?” He repeats, standing up from his chair and rounding his desk to lean against it, completely ignoring the half-written report on his computer that he hadn’t hit save on in a while.  “I don’t seem to remember ever bothering you” 
She rolls her eyes, finally looking up at him, and Ino thinks he could combust from excitement.  She’s blushing, which he’s not sure he’s ever seen before, and he can tell she’s fighting back a bigger smile behind the small one she shows him.
“Well what would you call it then?” She asks, still struggling to bite back a grin that mirrors his.  So much joy poured out of him it was difficult to fight the way it took her by the soul and forced her to feel nothing but warmth and butterflies.
“Obviously I was romancing you,” Ino replies without missing a beat, surprising even himself with the blunt truth.  Besides the way her eyes round into saucers, (y/n) doesn’t really react to the statement.  “Not my fault you’re a hard person to flirt with sometimes” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, and then tucks his hands into his pockets.
(y/n) blinks a few times, staring him down like she was suddenly an expert in body language.
“I am?” She asks, a small laugh escaping her at the suggestion.  “Because maybe I didn’t know you were flirting” She says with a shrug of her own.
Ino gapes back at her, unable to keep up with the chill facade when she says something so ridiculous.
“What do you mean you didn’t know?” He asks, and she laughs again, finally losing the battle to the grin on her face.  “Was I not obvious enough? You know that even Gojo was trying to get me to-” 
“Yeah, I know,” (y/n) says quietly, but it’s effective in getting him to shut up.  “One of his students might’ve told me some rumors they heard from him” She explains.
“What!?” Embarrassment floods his features.  “Who? I want names-” 
“Can’t, teacher-student confidentiality and all” She teases.  
She’s learning it was quite fun to not be on the receiving end of the playful banter.  In the past it was always Ino with the perfect quip or joke to have her flustered for the rest of the day, even if she wouldn’t show it.  Knowing he was actually incredibly easy to mess with felt like knowing his weakness.
“You’re not a teacher” He deadpans.  She laughs again.
“Well, I actually came to let you know that certain sorcerers here were spreading rumors to slander your good name,” She tells him matter of factly.  “But it appears those rumors are actually true, so they’re not really rumors, huh?” 
Ino rolls his eyes, but it’s in no way directed at her.  He makes a mental note to bring this up to Nanami to add to the very long list of grievances caused by Gojo Satoru.
(y/n) steps close to him, linking her fingers together behind her back as she finds the courage to hold eye contact with him.
“Why didn’t you just ask me out?” She asks.
He hates that she tilts her head to the side just so.  She did it on occasion when she was confused about something, and Ino’s sure that she’s not even aware that she had that tendency, but every time she did it he was so overwhelmed by the urge to kiss her that most of the time he had to completely walk away from her.
But they’re in his office, having a conversation he really didn’t want to walk away from.  If he ran now, there would be no coming back from it, and his intrigue in how she felt about him outweighed the aggravation she caused him when she looked that pretty.
He’s staring at her without saying anything, and he knows it’s been a few seconds too long to be comfortable, but it’s hard to care.  She’s close enough to him that he can smell her perfume and see how every strand of hair falls over left shoulder and he can’t help but take in every pretty sight of her.
He once swore he wasn’t a desperate man, hence his patience in waiting while he tried to figure out how she felt before he made a move, but standing here now, what’s one promise in the grand scheme of life? 
So he leans forward off his desk a bit, desperation getting the best of him.
“Would you have agreed?” 
She raises her chin, the apples of her cheeks getting rosy in color despite her trying to play it cool.
“I asked you first” 
“I asked you second” 
That had her bursting out in laughter, hands falling to her hips.
“Oh, real mature!” She says through a fit of bubbly giggles.
It’s cute.  It was so cute in fact, Ino just couldn’t take it anymore.  The fun banter he’d tried to establish had now warped into his own personal hell.
And hell didn’t even have any boring office decorations, no succulents, no photo frames, not even a calendar.
“Just answer the question,” He says, and it comes out as more of a plea than he means for it to, but he doesn’t bother trying to compensate for it, or taking it back.  “Would you have agreed to go out with me?” 
He has a hopeful look in his eye that only seems to gleam more with every second that passes without her response.  (y/n) softens, the warmth in her chest spreading throughout her entire body and making her melt like putty.  It was almost pathetic, how quickly this little crush she’d harbored for the sorcerer had grown into something more genuine than she’s ever felt for anyone before.
“Yeah,” She answers simply, quietly, barely nodding her head along with her confirmation.  “Yeah, I would have” 
The smile he wears is so sweet and pure that she’s mirroring it in a heartbeat.
“Okay,” He thinks he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t hurry this up, so he rushes the next string of words out so fast (y/n’s) lucky she managed to understand him.  “You wanna go out then? Tonight? For drinks? And then maybe dinner?” 
She’s laughing as she nods, her hands nervously fiddling together.
“Okay,” She repeats, rocking back and forth on her feet just once.  “But you should finish your report first.  So, call me when you’re done?” 
He wants to protest, but he knows she’s right.  So as he hands her his phone to add herself as a contact, Ino mentally starts going through what he has to finish so he could get through it as quickly as possible.
She’s still grinning when she hands him his phone back, already eager for the day to be over.
“I’ll be quick, promise” He beams back at her as she makes her way out of his office.
“You pick where we go for drinks, and I’ll pick where we go for dinner,” She decides, lingering at the doorway for just a moment longer.  “Sound good?” 
“Sounds perfect” He’s back in his chair and clicking away at his keyboard as he writes nonsense into his report.  
(y/n’s) gone with a little wave and a blush that only burns brighter the further away she gets.  She just hopes she doesn’t run into anyone in the meantime.
Ino tries to work on his report after adding some meaningless fluff of things that didn’t really happen, and weren’t really necessary for the report.  He really does try.
For five whole minutes.
But then he can’t help but open his phone to check on the contact (y/n) had just made for himself, and seeing the little orange heart emoji she’d added next to her name has him swooning way too hard- over an emoji, at least.  But that’s what she reduced him to, mush.
(y/n’s) just reached the front steps of Jujutsu Tech when her phone starts blaring her ringtone in her pocket.  She makes a face at the unknown number calling her, but it’s washed away as soon as she picks it up.
“Would you believe me if I said I finished already?” Ino’s speaking right away, without so much as a greeting.  
She giggles into the receiver, because no, no she doesn’t.
“That’s quite impressive work” She praises.
“I think you’ll come to find I’m quite an impressive guy!” He responds, and then quickly follows it with, “Not in, like, a douchebag way though!” 
She fights the urge to laugh any harder, not wanting to put him through any more embarrassment than he’s already suffered today.  They still have an entire evening ahead of them, after all.
“Of course not,” She murmurs softly.  “Meet me at the front steps, then? We can go into town together” 
And when Ino’s there in under a minute, trying desperately not to show how out of breath he is, she doesn’t tease him for it.  Not until later in the night after a few drinks in, anyways.
___
xoxo ~ jordie
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melzula · 10 months ago
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Could you write a Sokka x firebender reader that has the plot of the secret tunnel episode but instead of aang and katara getting stuck together it’s him and reader? :)
Don’t Let the Cave In Get You Down
a/n: got two requests for this sokka storyline and i was very excited to write it! i couldn’t find a way to seamlessly include the fire bending part of the request but i could definitely build on that in another piece. hope you enjoy <3
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you met the Gaang when they were passing through a small trading village on the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom
they were low on supplies and in need of a shopping spree, so they stopped at your little food stand in search of fresh fruit and snacks for their travels
you seemed awfully young to have your own business, especially when compared to the other merchants, but you were kind and your prices were affordable
their shopping spree was cut short by the arrival of fire nation soldiers, but you quickly escorted them through the backstreets of the marketplace and helped them evade the soldiers
“That was a close call,” Aang breathed out in relief, “thanks for your help.”
“Those guys are jerks, I couldn’t live with myself if I had just let them capture you.”
“Who are you?” Katara asked in awe.
“My name is y/n, and I’ve been hiding out in this village for about three years now. I escaped from the Fire Nation when I was 12 and never looked back.”
“Wait a minute, Fire Nation?!” Sokka exclaimed before quickly pushing his sister and Aang behind him. Raising his boomerang in a threatening manor, he narrowed his eyes at you. “Is this some kind of trick?! Did you just lure us out here so you could capture Aang and get the reward for yourself?”
“Sokka, you’re being ridiculous!” Katara had scolded angrily, harshly pushing his boomerang away. “She said herself she came here to get away from the Fire Nation, I’m sure she’s just trying to make a better life for herself here and you’re not making that any easier for her by being a jerk!”
“I don’t trust her, Katara!”
You’re a little disheartened by the disdain in his voice when he speaks about you, and despite Katara vouching for you you can see that you’re out of place
“I’m sorry, I’ve made things awkward,” you apologized sheepishly, “I’ll leave you now.”
“Wait!” Aang called, stopping you from going. “If what you said is true then… then I think you should come with us.”
“Tell me you’re joking,” Sokka scoffed in disbelief
“If she’s from the Fire Nation then she must have knowledge about the ins and outs of that place. Maybe she can even help me find a fire bending master. We need her help, Sokka.”
Though he was reluctant and very distrusting of you, Sokka realized Aang was right, so he begrudgingly allowed the airbender to welcome you to their team
You agreed to help as much as you can, and the rest was history
From there on out you’re officially a member of Team Avatar, but that doesn’t mean Sokka becomes any more trusting of you
He always keeps a suspicious eye on you, never letting you help with tasks he deems too important to avoid having you “sabotage” the group
His lack of trust in you hurts, you can’t lie about that, but you continue to do what you can to aid the Avatar and his friends and earn their trust
Of course, this all changes when you get to the cave of two lovers
Unlike Sokka, you found Chong and his group of Nomads to be great fun. They’d braided your hair beautifully with flowers from the lake and performed wonderful songs, so despite your predicament you were in a cheerful mood
Being stuck in the cave had put a strain on your group’s mission to make it to Omashu, but you tried to remain hopeful and help as best as you can
Surprisingly, Sokka even puts you in charge of holding one of the torches
“I’m only giving this to you because I know you’re at least smart enough not to waste resources while we’re in here.”
It’s a start
And it’s a good thing he gave you that torch, because it comes in handy when you both end up getting separated from the rest of the group
“This is just great,” Sokka utters sarcastically after several failed attempts to dig through the rock and get back to the others.
“Come on, Sokka, lighten up. We have a torch and your map, I’m sure we’ll be able to figure something out,” you try to console. “What did Chong say earlier? ‘Don’t let the cave in get you down, Sokka.’”
He’s not amused by your singing
It’s a bit awkward being stuck with the boy who’s been so adamant that you don’t belong despite your best efforts to prove that you can be trusted
You don’t speak much and try to stay out of his way and follow his lead, but the tunnels keep changing and you keep getting lost and your torch is about to burn out, so things are beginning to seem hopeless
“Maybe we should try changing our strategy,” you offer only for Sokka to immediately dismiss you.
“Right, like I’m going to let you lead us through the cave. You’ll probably make us get lost on purpose.”
“You know, if you stopped being so judgmental for a second you’d probably realize that i want to get out of this cave just as much as you do!” You snap irritably, surprising Sokka. you’ve mostly stayed docile to try and keep the peace whenever Sokka accuses you of being untrustworthy, but at this point you’re finally starting to get fed up
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he says softly, and this time you’re the one who’s surprised. You never thought he’d actually apologize to you, and it’s a nice feeling. “What do you suggest we do?”
“Well,” you start with a sigh, “maybe the story is right. Maybe if we trust in love, we’ll find our way out of here.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
You simply shrug, prompting Sokka to let out a heavy sigh. Your torch is going to run out soon, and his map isn’t doing anyone any favors. It seems you have no choice
“How exactly do we trust in love?”
“I’m not sure… the only love I know is the love I had from my parents, but I haven’t felt it in so long… I’m not sure I ever will again.”
“…What happened to them?”
“My parents were peasants with nothing but love to give each other. They were poor, but they were happy,” you explain with a faint smile. “My father was a fire bender, but he kept his gift hidden in fear he’d be forced to serve in the Fire Nation army. He didn’t want to leave me or my mother, but our home was attacked, and he had no choice but to bend to protect us. Our lives were saved, but he was taken away.”
Sokka hangs on to your every word, eyes glistening with unshed tears and sympathy. Your story is similar to his own, and he knows what it’s like to lose your family to the Fire Nation. He feels less disdain towards you now, more empathetic. He still isn’t 100% sure how to feel about you, but hearing your story makes you easier to understand now
“My mother knew I’d never be safe or happy if I stayed there, so she arranged for me to be smuggled out of the Fire Nation and brought to the trading village you first met me in. I haven’t seen or heard from her since, and I’m not even sure if she or my father are even alive.”
“I’m sorry,” Sokka utters solemnly. “Katara and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation, and we haven’t seen our father since he left to fight in the war. I know how you feel.”
“I don’t want to be Fire Nation, you know. None of this was a choice, and I understand why you don’t trust me but I’m not like them Sokka. Please believe me.”
“I’m sorry for always giving you such a hard time. It’s just… it’s hard to believe people from the Fire Nation can actually be good. But you’ve proven that you can be trusted over and over again, I was just too blind to see it.”
“Can we start over?” He asks with a sheepish smile, carefully sticking his hand out for you to shake. Instead, you push his hand away and throw your arms around him in a tight embrace.
The force of your hug knocks him back a bit, and though he’s unsure at first, he eventually returns your embrace by carefully wrapping his arms around your figure
The fire of your torch slowly begins to die, but neither of you seem to notice or care as you enjoy your moment together
You expect to be engulfed in darkness when the flame goes out, but instead you’re met with the beautiful shimmers of the crystals that line the roofs of the cave
“It’s so beautiful,” you murmur in awe, your eyes sparkling under the light
“Yeah,” your counterpart utters quietly, but he isn’t looking at the crystals
“Was she always this pretty?” Sokka wondered to himself
Together, you’re eventually able to follow the crystals and make your way out of the cave
And when you leave the cave, hands woven tightly together, you leave as two completely new people
You understand each other now, you trust each other
And your relationship will only continue to grow stronger from then on out
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @chronic-daydreamer @niktwazny303
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ultravi0lence14 · 16 days ago
Text
Crush
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dean winchester x fem!reader
2.6k | angst, fluff
summary: operation, have you and dean actually get along. that is all sam begged and pleaded to happen. though, it worked better than he initially had hoped.
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sam believed that if he rolled his eyes anymore, they’d get stuck at the back of his head. he loved you, don’t get it twisted. it’s just that when you and dean were in the same room, things seemed to get a lot more. . . aggravating, to say it lightly.
the winchester brothers had met you around three years ago on a hunt in washington. a pesky demon is what brought you all together. well, it was more or less you and sam. dean was just an added on bonus that wasn’t really a bonus because you wanted to slap him across the face every ten seconds.
you and dean winchester hadn’t gotten along since the jump, and sam could easily vouch for the statement since he’d been in the middle of the lengthy feud for many years. dean was cocky, stubborn, and always had to be right, something you couldn’t stand. as someone who strived on being independent, a man like dean was a thorn in your side.
for years, anytime sam called you to help on a case, or you three were in the same place at the same time, you and dean would always end up in some kind of fight. whether it be his idea was better than yours or dean’s constant need to blare his music in the car it didn’t matter. you would always fight and sam would always dream of cutting his eyes out with a blunt butter knife
this hunt wasn’t any different. a witch had been using the residents of a small town in mississippi as her personal test dummy’s. droppings bodies left, right, and centre. so with a call from sam, you hopped on a bus and met the two brothers at their motel in kentucky, ready to join the hunt.
dean always teased you for not having a constant form of transportation, but you weren’t a douche who rode in a classic muscle car. especially one who was attached to it as a baby is to their bottle, so his digs just went completely deaf to you.
knocking on the winchester’s motel room door, sam greeted you with a gleaming smile on his face. arms extended for a hug, you cuddled into his chest and rested your head by his shoulder, catching a glimpse of dean shovelling a mini pie into his mouth.
when the older brother caught your eye, he just scoffed. hands moving to cross over his chest as you stepped away from sam and did the same.
“we really don’t need her help sammy.” dean practically snarled, mouth tilting up in a devious smirk. “she’s probably already got plans with all her little pals on the bus.”
sam just sighed, already mentally prepared for the kindergarten level digs you two were going to throw at each other. he almost left the room as he watched your shoulders square and your jaw clench. “oh very funny dean.” you retorted, hands resting in your pockets so you didn’t choke the man. “why don’t i just go slash all your tires? then maybe we can be bus buddies.”
“don’t you dare even think about touching my baby!” dean’s finger had lifted in the air in a pointing motion at you, and sam felt his hands lift up and slap against his thighs. “oh dear god, you guys are killing me! there’s people who need are help, and you two fighting like an old married couple isn’t going to help them.”
the sour look on your face when sam mentioned you and dean in the same sentence as married couple could’ve been made as a reaction photo, yet sam and dean didn’t acknowledge it as they led the way outside and to the infamous chevy impala.
nothing could ever prepare sam for the long car rides with you and his brother. it was either copious hours of bickering or a tense silence that had sam so uncomfortable he questioned if walking was a good idea.
this time the silence was so thick, sam genuinely reached his breaking point. Years of breaking up your arguments and having to be the middleman drove him to a dire conclusion; he needed to get you and Dean to like each other.
the plan was truly fool proof. force the two of you to work on the case together and boom, all the arguing and petty fights would be a faraway memory. sam had to contain his grin when he mentioned that interviewing the families is more of a one person job than going to the morgue. his grin didn’t leave his face even as he mentioned that he was better with comforting grieving families than either you or dean.
no words were spoken between you and dean in the car ride towards the morgue. in all honesty, you never knew what to say to the man. he was always angry, finding something to get mad about and always finding a way for it to be your fault.
truthfully, maybe that’s why you hated him. he never let you explain yourself, always jumping to conclusions and blaming you for the smallest things. if it wasn’t for his quick temper and communication issues, you’d probably have a huge crush on the man.
it was dean winchester at the end of the day. and as much of a dick as he was to you, you witnessed those moments he had with sam or with a family member or victim on a case where he wasn’t an absolute dickhead. it was sad really, how much dean hated you. sam spoke up and down that you and dean would be a great duo, yet you never got to prove him right or wrong since his older brother couldn’t go five minutes without arguing with you.
although, something you weren’t aware of was that dean’s thoughts were very similar to yours. he didn’t know why you got under his skin, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about you for weeks after you would leave.
the man knew there was nothing wrong with you. he was just stubborn, and pushing people away before he got too close to them was his specialty. what if you became someone special in his life? what if because of that, you died, and then dean would blame himself for the rest of his life.
it was easier to keep you at an arms length than to get too close, and yeah sam would say he was being childish, but dean didn’t really care. you hating him and staying alive was better than him meaning something to you and that being the reason you were dead.
the trip to the morgue was awkward for the better part. you were trying to rid your mind of any thoughts you had on dean in the car and the man in question was trying his best to remain a good foot away from you. both of you could tell that something had shifted in that stupid ten minute car ride, but neither of you wanted to bring it up.
sam knew something was up when he met with you and dean again. it wasn’t even close to his end goal, but he knew that he was getting close to the feud between you and dean to finally be over.
his final shove was suggesting that you and dean check out the home of moira carlson while he goes to talk to the sheriff in charge of the murders. an argument raged on, but begrudgingly, you and dean left together to go investigate the number one suspects home.
dean had gotten to the home in under ten minutes, and now you found yourself and dean sneaking around the back of mrs carlson’s home to slip in the back door.
a scoff could be heard behind you. and as you turned around, you saw dean with an exasperated look on his face. “jesus woman, can you breathe any louder?”
the pettiness of dean’s complaint just had you rolling your eyes, turning back so you could make your way to where the sliding back door was; unlocked thankfully.
moira carlson’s home definitely screamed evil witch who enjoys killing people. occult items and witchy like items were sprawled around the living and dining room. a big pot in the kitchen alongside weird looking herbs also tipped you off. you would’ve mentioned how cliche all of this was if dean didn’t drop and shatter a statue like a dumb ass.
“are you serious!” you exclaimed, whipping around to look at dean’s hunched figure, trying to clean the broken pieces of the statue in a hurry. “can you not be a complete oaf for one damn second?”
the eldest winchester just laughed humourlessly, standing back up with all the broken pieces in his hand. “i’m not the one stomping around like an ogre. she can be home for all we know.”
“coming from the guy with the cinder blocks for shoes.” you scoffed, both you and dean looking down at his monstrous boots. “all of this complaining is really rich coming from you, dean winchester.”
it seemed that at that very moment, dean had enough of your guys’ bickering. with a wild look in his eye, dean flew off the handle in a way that you probably wouldn’t be able to describe in full accuracy ever again. he started off with a disbelieved “really!” and then ranted on for longer than you ever could’ve pictured.
“how is it possible that you think i’m the one always complaining, miss whines a lot.” your eyes buggered out of your head as you looked on past dean. “you know, i’ve been keeping my cool for sammy’s sake but you are really a piece of work. i know i’m not the best person to be around 24/7 but cmon, can you not try and be civil for once?”
he kept going. yet you weren’t focused on whatever dean was saying, for moira carlson, in all of her evil witchy goodness, was coming up behind dean with a spell on her tongue that did not look friendly at all.
“dean.” you muttered, watching as the now ghastly looking woman got closer. he didn’t listen though, just threw his arms in the air and let his hands reside on his hips like a child. “oh so mature y/n. go on and interrupt me-“
“get down you idiot!” your body smacked down to the floor just as the witch threw dean across the room. poor bastard didn’t even have time to turn around. attempting to take shelter behind the sofa, you grabbed on to dean’s sprawled body and shuffled across the floor while trying to shoot at mrs carlson.
somehow, you got the two of you behind the sofa, propping dean in a sitting position before resting your body over the couch so you could take a shot. dean was frantically texting sam, warning his brother about what danger you two were in while wheezing in the air that got knocked out of his lungs.
with a mighty wave of her hand, the witch blew the couch into two pieces. dean’s body slumped back to the floor, too bruised and in pain to allow the man to even move a muscle. a loud cackle could be heard as mrs carlson moved in on dean, ready to deliver her final blow.
she was about to, if it wasn’t for your gun going off at the perfect time and striking her right in her forehead. the woman slumped to the ground beside dean, the man in question shimmying as far away from her as possible before you rushed over and propped him up on the nearest wall.
“oh god.” you mumbled, watching as dean nearly coughed up a lung. you knew he was okay, he took worse beating than this. it was just the fact of seeing him get thrown around like a rag doll that had an emotion bubbling to the forefront of your mind. one you never thought you’d experience towards dean.
waving you off, dean sat himself up straighter and took a deep intake of air. “i’m okay y/n, it’s fine. though you probably just saved my life.” dean all of a sudden had the realization that he didn’t need to be so closed off all this time. you could easily handle your own, and having someone like you would probably be the best thing that ever happened to him.
a sheepish blush rose to your cheeks as dean stared at you longer, and suddenly, you realized that maybe the man wasn’t as bad as you initially thought. deep down, you cared about him. yeah, you two could fight like cats and dogs, but so does everyone. at the end of the day, you would always be there for dean and he’d do the same for you.
“i’m sorry for how i’ve treated you these past couple of years.” your random word vomit had dean snapping his head up, eyes wide and mouth agape as he stared at your nervous features. “i know you have your own way of doing things and i shouldn’t pester you about everything. it sucks that you probably still hate me, but can we please work on us-“
“i never hated you.” dean cut you off so quickly it was almost like he couldn’t bare hold down those words any longer. your nervous face turned shocked, and suddenly dean had the confidence to say what he always wanted to. “ever since i was young, every person i’ve ever cared about either leave’s or dies, and i somehow just knew that you were special the first moment i met you.” a somber smile appeared on your face, and you found yourself moving closer and closer to dean as he continued to speak.
“i’m sorry i never gave you a chance sweetheart, but would you give me one now?” you didn’t have to be asked twice, for in an instant you perched yourself in dean’s lap and smashed your lips onto his.
dean didn’t take long to reciprocate your actions. hands moving to go around your waist and nestle in your hair while your own gripped tightly onto his t shirt. dean’s mouth was exploring all the places he wished he could’ve kissed you sooner. your soft lips, all around your face. when he moved on to placing sloppy kisses on your neck, you felt the vibrations of his voice against your skin as he kept mumbling. ‘so perfect’ and ‘you’re so beautiful, everything i could ever dream of.’
unknown to the two of you, sam had just walked in the front door and was ready to defend you all against the destructive witch. though to his surprise — and slight disgust if he was being honest, he stepped into the living room to see you and dean behind a destroyed couch. the two of you were heavily making out and dean just put it upon himself to wrap his one arm around the underside of your ass, hoisting you further up on his body and giving it a firm squeeze in the process.
“well fuck.” sam mumbled to himself, slightly gagging up his salad from lunch as he watched dean pull your head back by a tuft of your hair and start leaving trails of hickeys down your neck.
“yeah, that’s enough of that.” the youngest winchester just silently mumbled to himself as he walked back outside the front door, leaving you and dean in the middle of a random house to sort out all of your pent up feelings in a way he definitely shouldn’t be seeing.
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bigmoon-is-bigwife · 20 days ago
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Oh the angst with Cleo and BigB. Cleo invites BigB to join her group and really wants to squash their feud. She wants so badly to believe BigB is not the same traitor she remembers him as. And then she catches him making a deal to help kill Scott, her teammate. This time it isn't Cleo being betrayed by BigB. Scott has probably the most lives out of any other player so it logically makes sense for him to be a target with so many reds and yellows on the server. However, Cleo doesn't ask much from her teammates, they can be as reckless and impulsive as they want, but they never turn against other teammates. Any sign of disloyalty is an instant deal breaker for her. So of course she immediately yells at him for being the traitor he's always been. I think it must hurt even worse for it being Scott. She vouched for BigB, she was the one to bring him into their group and because of that it almost got Scott killed. And it's Scott, the only person Cleo truly trusts and allies with every single season. If BigB is a traitor, Scott is the definition of loyal to Cleo. Needless to say I think Cleo is back to having trust issues!
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realcube · 5 months ago
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WRATH & LUST . t.kei / y.tadashi
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synopsis ✧ you hate tsukishima kei. you do everything in your power to make his life miserable but nothing works. now you have no choice but to fuck his best friend
cws/tags ✧ college au , enemies to enemies who screw, cursing, fob, smut, vaginal, oral (recieving) & praise — minors dni
parts ✧ i. ii. iii. iv.
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maybe you were overexaggerating a bit when you said that yamaguchi is always with tsukishima, because there are a couple times a week when you know they'll be apart.
your friend is a part of the college's newspaper club, and she mentioned that yamaguchi is a member too, but tsukishima isn't. this gave you the perfect opportunity to the catch him alone and prey on his weakest form.
you saunter up to the news room, and catch yamaguchi waiting outside. they don't usually enter until your friend, the chief editor, arrives. "excuse me?"
your voice is soft and inviting, hence yamaguchi is stunned when he turns to see you. his guard is up, but unlike tsukishima, he doesn't immediately resort to aggression, "yes?" he replies quietly.
"is this the newspaper society?" you ask innocently, tilting your head with a smile.
yamaguchi is unsure as to why you are being so mellow towards him, considering your history, but as he chokes back a gulp, he figures that maybe your negative sentiments are purely towards tsukishima and up until now he has just been caught in the crossfire.
"yes, this is. i'm waiting for the editor to get here."
"oh, hana?" your lips are parts slightly, as he nods, "she is my friend. i'm sure she won't mind if we just go in."
"are you sure?" his questions is basically answered as he watches you enter the news room. he hesitantly follows behind, thinking he can shift the blame onto you if the chief editor is upset.
"so, are you a member? i've never seen you here before." he asks while fidgeting with his hands, taking a seat in his usual spot.
"no, not yet. i want to join though which is why i'm here." you sit near yamaguchi, on the table, "but i hear you're full. could you put in a good word for me, tadashi?"
you giggle. bafflement and wary burn at his face, dusting his cheeks a slight pink, "if you're friends with hana then i'm sure you don't need me to talk you up to her."
"well, yeah, but she's reluctant to let me join because, in her words, i can be 'volatile and confrontational'." you muse, legs swinging lightly as you turn to look at yamaguchi with a knowing smirk, "i'm so not, though. you can vouch for me, right?"
yamaguchi blinks, then responds, "yeah. you're the most docile person i know."
you find it cute that he plays along with your jokes. plus, now that you're actually taking a good look at him, you realise he has such a sweet, squishable face. how does the sweetest boy ever end up in the company of lucifer incarnate?
"i wouldn't say docile. that's too far-fetched." you tease.
"mild?"
"eh."
"poise?"
"i like that one but still no."
"composed?"
"that could work!" you cheer, displaying the palm of your hand he insantly reciprocates with a high-five. just as your shared laughter begins to die down, hana and a couple other members of the newspaper society enter the room.
you spend the rest of the hour in the back of the room, working on an article with yamaguchi. your friend knew about your plan, and she didn't mind you utilising her society to achieve your end goal, but you'd hate to impede on her work flow for too long so you pulled out all the stops to ensure you gain tadashi's favour as quickly as possible.
and it worked like a charm. despite never having communicated directly with each other before, you chatted throughout the whole hour like you were lifelong best friends. there was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you — the sweet and sour.
plus, you both have a lot more in common than you may have initially thought. your music tastes are very similar, surprisingly, and you like the same movies/shows. he shows you a couple of his playlists and you do the same, discussing the concerts you've been to and what merchandise you have.
you learned that he is studying to be an electronic engineer while tsukishima is studying history, but he chose maths electives just so they could be in a couple of classes together. they also used to do volleyball together in highschool and are both apart of the volleyball society in college.
so corny and so cheesy but coming from the mouth of yamaguchi, it was the sweetest, most moving story of friendship you've ever heard.
even when meeting ended, you both still walked together out of the building, blathering away about anything and everything, it comes to an abrupt holt when you reach the building's exit.
perplexed, yamaguchi asks, "which way are you going? if you want, i could walk you to your bus stop?"
you smile awkwardly, pretending to be sheepish about the proposition despite it being exactly what you anticipated, "i would love that. but i don't think tsukishima would be too delighted to see us together."
yamaguchi frowns at the reminder but nods.
"but," you continue, pulling a pen and scrap piece of paper from your bag and hurriedly jotting something down, "you can ring me if you ever want to talk. or anything else." you hand it to him with a wink and yamaguchi's throat dies up at your suggestion, he is barely able to croak out an 'okay'.
"see you later!" you skip off and yamaguchi is left speechless behind.
ೃ⁀➷
you had warmed up to each other very quickly. texting each other videos, emojis and pictures every other minute. didn't even take two days before you both had a shared playlist. you were up until ungodly hours of the night facetiming each other.
it was so frequent, yamaguchi had to change your contact information to a fake name because he was getting tired of constantly having to hide his phone from tsukishima, since there was bound to be a notification from you on his screen.
"are you gonna buy tickets tonight???" "noooo don't remind me tadashi" "what's the matter ???😧" "wi-fi sucks at my houseee. i never get concert tickets on time. always end up paying resale prices 😤" "you can come to mine if you want! my wifi is good"
you took him up on his offer. you went over to his dorm at 10PM, since tickets when on sale at 11PM in your time zone. (darn international artists!)
it was a blood-bath but by the grace of god you both successfully secured two tickets to see your favourite artist performing live, with seats very close to the stage!
so of course you had to celebrate somehow.
shaky breathes escaped his lips, soft moans intertwined. his shirt had come off, exposing his tan skin to the hot atmosphere of his bedroom. hypnotised by the way your tight cunt sucked needily on his cock, dripping cum all over his bare shaft.
his gaze was only freed from your sex when he was nearing his climax and a sudden bolt of ecstasy wracked through him, causing his eyes to roll back, "so tight, (y/n)." he grunted, grabbing your ass and squeezing it.
he had you sprawled out over his bed face down, while he stood by the edge and fucked you from behind. he gave you a pillow to rest your cute head on so your neck wouldn't hurt, and he held your legs by his sides while he ploughed into you. four years of volleyball practise has its uses.
his pace is relentless but rhythmic; at first he fucked you leisurely, allowing you to appreciate every inch of him as he'd pull out of you excruciatingly slowly, then ease himself back in until his achy tip prodded your cervix. he wasn't doing it to torment you though, just to give you some time to grow accustomed to his length.
it was better that way; your desperate pussy welcomed him instead of trying to force him out. in fact, it clung to him so tightly it was challenging for him to pull out of you, somehow he managed.
as he approached his orgasm, his thrusts became hurried and sloppy, raring to spill inside your sopping pussy. but ever the altruist, he slips his fingers between your legs to press and rub at your clit fervently, "close, baby?"
his cock splits in you half, and your pussy throbs around him. the power with which he rams into you has made you hazy, drooling mess, only able to weakly buck your hips in reciprocation to his thrusts. you try to whine a meek 'yes' but your face is buried in the pillow, thus yamaguchi only hears an unclear, muffled noise.
he furrows his brows and moves his hands up to your waist, "'m gonna flip you over, yeah?" he pants, still fucking you as he talks, "wanna see that pretty face." in a surge of strength and energy, he pulls you off the bed and flips you onto your back, offering you a gentle smile when you lock eyes.
you weakly smile back, about the only autonomy you could exhibit while his cock continued to pound into you, moulding your walls around him. you were losing control of yourself with each thrust; clinging to the sheets and allow a string of lewd moans and profanities spill from your mouth. somewhere in the mix there was his name.
"tadashi.."
your eyes were closed, and your melodious voice called out for him to save you, like he wasn't tucked inside you. hearing you say his name like that — so filthy and obscene — delighted him in ways he didn't know were possible and only urged him closer to his climax. "(y/n), say that again, please."
the wet slapping noises he made against your cunt grew louder; it was a miracle you could still hear his pastel voice. being railed into the plush sheets of his bed, your mind and body were in two different realms, so when you tried to utter his name once more, all that came out was a series of moans and gasps.
"c'mon, (y/n)." he pled, gripping onto your hips like you are his life force, "i need you. be a good girl for me, please."
he punctuated each word with a harsh thrust, brushing your cervix each time and it didn't take much else for you to come crash down around him. spasming and twitching on his dick, your scream echoing through the room while he fucked you through it. your throbbing pussy still being used for his pleasure.
even when you were nearing completion, your pussy still fluttered around him and you squealed, "tadashi!" as the world became hazy and blurred around you.
which was enough to send him hurdling over the edge too. his teeth are gritted together and his hands tense on your waist when he cums inside you. his thrusts waver for only a moment before he temporarily resumes, this time with less vigour and with the sole purpose of milking himself dry inside you.
once he could feel his hot cum packed safely within your walls, he was finally able to gasp for air. he doesn't want to pull out, he's comfortable as he is, but the curious part of him wants to see how his load looks inside you.
he pulls out, only to kneel and examine your glistening hole. too fucked out and sore, you lay on the bed and try to catch your breath, allowing him to push your legs wide open without protest.
"so pretty." he mused, watch as a bit of his cum dribbles out of your pussy and onto your ass. not to worry though, as he uses his two fingers to guide it back inside you. idly, he pushes his fingers inside you and revels at how tight you still are.
"you're perfect." without thinking about it, he curls his fingers inside, then delicately drags them in and out, wrenching a feeble whine from your throat. "do you know how perfect you are?"
he pressed a loving kiss against your clit before poking his head up from between your legs to look at you. "mm" is all you respond with. he chuckles, "that's not a yes or no, baby."
he doesn't dwell on it too long. he'll stop bothering you now by trying to get you to respond to him; you're probably still recovering from your intense orgasm. yamaguchi goes back to admiring your hole, captivated by how his cum has filled you up, and whenever it tries to escape but it is prevented from doing so by his fingers.
"you look so beautiful like this. i wanna burn this image into my brain so i can keep it forever." he kisses your pussy again, french this time. his lips move graciously against your folds and his tongue plunges inside you. you taste so good, so intoxicating, he moans into your skin, the vibrations causing you to gasp. he continues to suck and lick inside your puckered hole, until he gets a taste of himself on his tongue, which causes him to falter and slowly pull away.
"i've never had sex with a girl on the pill before. but this was just.." he can't seem to find the word he's looking for. perhaps it doesn't exist. "amazing. well, that doesn't even cover half of it." he grins foolishly, caressing the inside of your thigh and still gazing at your hole.
"yeah." after lying motionless for a while, you seem to have finally come back down to earth and can form full sentences again. "amitriptyline is great, isn't it?"
"uhuh.." he muses, thinking about how gorgeous you look until what you said finally registers in head and he springs to his feet, "what!?"
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago
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Cabin in the woods (yan!slasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!slasher!Horangi) part 2
You listen to the story about those woods. Turns out, real life is way, way nastier than any of those stories. Don't lose your head.
TW for the chapter: Blood, gore, dead bodies, slut shaming(usage of outdated horror tropes), knife play, blood play, mentions of STDs
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— Do you know what animal is this? 
The body of a small creature – rodent, probably, you don’t think there could be any other animals around – was lying on the road near the place you decided to stay for the night. The “Coolest fucking thing in the world that is also just a few hours from here” was still a few hours from here because it was fucking dark and you already left your car on the sidewalk, hoping no one would steal it because honestly, why would anyone need this pile of burning crap. 
— According to the “Basic Bestiary of Austrian Animals” it might be an extremely rare Austrian Marmont.
You fucking hated Max. Mostly because his form of being different was “being an intelligent asshole” and also because he would never forget to rub the fact you were behind him in the grades into your face. 
— Waaaaaaait, a mamont? But it’s small! You have to give Karen – blonde, tan, tall, straight C everywhere except for her chest (then it would be D everywhere) – credit. As adorably silly as she was, she was still the only person you could have a meaningful conversation with. Except for the times when she was fucking your boyfriends. Or when she forgot that you don’t have a boyfriend so he doesn’t need to fuck random people just to spite you.
— Perhaps, if we are extremely lucky, a European edible dormouse, also known as…
— Fuuuuuck, people eat this thing? Yuck! Austria is like, literally the worst country EVER!
You feel like every second of this conversation, even though you are just listening to it, is going to take 10 years from your life span. You never knew why the two got together – maybe because Max loved fucking someone dumber than he is, and Gretchen loved placing the responsibility for her actions on her beloved sociopathic boyfriend. 
You wanted to say that this was literally a fucking squirrel, but you know better. Not like anyone is going to listen anyway. 
You get to the supposed location a few hours – already deep in the night, everything that you hate about forests – unkept environment, horrible living conditions, mosquitos, and occasionally wild animals are making you squirm each time your butt switches the place and you involuntarily sit on the cold, damp ground. You lick your lips, trying to adjust in the position in front of the fire. Fire that you probably shouldn’t be making in the middle of the private territory, but Chad said the place belongs to some weird hillbillies who wouldn’t care about a bunch of college grads having fun. 
You just finished the last of your coke – mixed with cheap whiskey and rum you got back at home, you feel just buzzy and fuzzy and relaxed enough to at least try to engage with people around you. Just didn’t want to make Jenny embarrassed – she was the one to vouch for you, even though you didn’t want to go camping with them. 
— I heard there is something happening in these woods. 
Everyone around you groans and you comply, groaning too. Chad has the worst storytelling voice and even Marty – the resident stoner of the group – is visibly unhappy about having to listen to his dumb jokes. Brace yourself for at least twenty minutes of dumb story with a cheap attempt to scare you. 
— You talk like those locals. What can be here except for drunkards? 
— Very fucking funny, Marty, I hope you laugh at people’s death too. 
Everyone groans again. 
— Shut up and let me finish! So, there is something hiding in those woods…legends…
— What legends? This place was built like 20 years ago. 
— Shut the fuck up, Max! It’s the legends before the town even was built. In those very forests…
— Forests? I thought it was like, just a suburban area. 
— It’s wild Austrian woods, why I would put you to adventure in the fucking suburbs? 
— You’re a suburb baby. 
— Shut it! God, I hate you guys. Alright, so…these woods are populated with…creatures. 
— Ooooh, like the mammoth we saw! 
— Karen, seriously, what the fuck? These woods are filled with motherfucking human-eating killers, not just some animals! 
— Then why do you say “creatures”? — Because it makes for a good fucking story! God, everyone, this is why none of you are studying creative writing! 
— Only your parents have money to pay for it. 
— This is why you all are fucking losers. Alright…god, I hate you. People went missing in these woods. Mostly tourists, never the local population – this is why police don’t care about it. Bodies were found, half-eaten, rotting under that very tree! 
— Which tree? There are like 10 of them just here. 
— More like 100. 
— Under every fucking tree! — That’s a lot of bodies. 
Chad groans, visibly aggressive. You just tilt your head to the side, only talking to him once before taking the last sip of your Coke and standing from your place. You wanted to take a chance to see those woods before you’d be going even deeper the next night – Chad was planning quite an adventure in the wilderness, to your dismay, and you wanted to have a chance to see the cool part of nature before you would grow tired of it. 
To your surprise, Karen was nowhere to be seen. Knowing the girl, she is far too innocent and dumb to be here – probably ran away to not listen to scary stories or got lost while trying to find a good place to pee. You sigh, feeling that it is your responsibility to pick her up – she is Marty’s girlfriend, but he is too stoned out to notice her disappearance yet. 
You stumble on your foot – alcohol makes you dizzy, makes you relaxed and smiley. You don’t even care that no one came to ask what the fuck you are doing – as far as you aware, they all can go and fuck themselves while you have a lot more fun things to do. Like searching for a drunk girl in the forest in the middle of the night…yeah, you really should work on your definition of fun. 
You already a good few minutes into the forest. Nothing but trees, not even a squirrel or a wolf pocking around to feast on yummy bodies. Not like you wanted to see a wolf, of course, but meeting with the wild life could be fun. You’d like to see a bear, for example. 
(And you will – just a bit later) 
— Karen? Karen, are you alright? You decide to scream for her once you are far enough from your friends that they won’t question why you are so concerned for her. Poor girl was obviously scared and you didn’t want to embarrass her even further, so you stroll through the woods, an empty bottle of coke in your hand – not sure why you didn’t threw it away. Littering isn’t nice, after all. 
— Karen? You’re scaring everyone, come out! 
You scream some more – she is probably lost, deep enough that she can’t even hear you. You try not to panic, try to be the reasonable friend – it’s usually Jenny’s task but here you are, trying to be the cool one of your friend group. You yell for Karen some more, listening closely to every little sound that could be easily taken as her whimper or cry for help. 
Nothing. 
Just how far can a scared drunk girl go? Probably not further away than you – you’re already starting to get tired and you knew that Sidhey got far drunker than you are. Which means she could lay here, somewhere, passed from the exhaustion, freezing, with forest animals feasting on her…no, no, you can’t think like that. She is fine, she has to be, or you are going to get into so much trouble with the police and her parents. You never told any of your families about the trip, so you wouldn’t want to get in trouble what ould require their assistance. 
You take a step into deeper part of the forest – and you think you saw a glimpse of…something. Metal, probably, might be her phone or that atrociour hair dye she is using to stop everyone from calling her a mouse. You also think you could hear a sound of someone breathing – heavily, gruffly, definitely a male, but you don’t really know how. You squint, trying to see through the trees. 
You see Karen. 
— Karen? God, you scared everyone…well, me. Where the fuck have you been? 
You smile and wave at her, your drunken state isn’t allowing you to see that, for some weird reason, she isn’t waving back. Or moving, so to speak. She stared at you with that terrified expression of hers and you tilt your head to the side, not udneratanding why is she like that. Something happened between her and others? 
You take another step back and Karen falls. 
Well…her head falls, anyway. 
There are a lot of feelings right now. Panic, panic, panic, a little bit of panic and, oh, who could have guessed, another riel of panic which makes you freak the fuck out and sprint – towards her. Maybe she will be alive if you could put her head back on her neck really-really fast? 
— Is it too late to convince you this is all a dream? 
The voice. 
You don’t recognize it – it’s distorted and quiet under the mask and you don’t know anyone int his fucking place anyways. The voice is weirdly happy, weirdly laughing and you want to vomit from how easy-going it sounds. Like the corpse of your beheaded friend is nothing, like it’s a fun pun, like…
You laungh forward, trying to, maybe, get revenge on your not-really-a-friend. Guy lets go of Karen’s body, allowing it to fall down, her head rolling to the nearest creek and tumbling into the water like a sports ball. You can’t even sob – the situation feels too unreal, too shocking, you are still very much drunk and when the guy simply wraps his hands around your waist, not allowing you to move even an inch, you fall limp in his hold. 
You sob. 
His hand goes to grasp your face in a tight embrace, making you gag from the smell of blood splattered all across his hand. You hear chuckle. 
— Didn’t want you to see that first. Wanted to play hero, yes? 
You sob, you tremble, you can barely master a few words out of your mouth. You want to scream, but it’s like all the air just decided to disappear from your lungs. So, you cry instead. How brave of you, Karen would be so proud of her friend not even trying to avenge her death. 
— F…fuck…you. 
You master with all you strength. Guy is laughing again – his other hand goes to squeeze your waist even more, pushing you against a tree. He wears a full mask with some red drawings on it – a satanic cult, really? You thought about serial killer, maybe, but definetly not about crazy cult maniacs running around. The more you know. 
— Oh, kitten, I’d love to fuck myself. But you’re here for this, no? 
He called you kitten – you squirm in his grasp, not wanting to give him the easy way to kill you. Something pokes you to the side – it’s a knife. Large, sharp, military-issued, you saw it in movie and action TV shows – and now the bloody razor almost grazing over your skin, through the thing fabric of your open jacter and a simple T-shirt. 
— Wh…who are you? 
Stpuid question, really. 
— Why does everyone wants to ask who we are all the time? Would you die happier knowing my name? Would it help you escape knowing how many beauty marks I have?
It would certainly help the police if you were to survive the encounter. Even though you are certainly going to die right next to Karen over there. 
He pushes a knife towards your side, the blade cutting through fabric easily, You brace yourself for being gutted alive. 
— I don’t like stupid questions. Ask something wrong and I will see if you are as pretty on the inside as you are on the outside. 
In a normal situation, you would punch him for such a corny joke. But you’re too drunk for this, but you’re too exhausted for this, but you just want to curl away in some nice place and fucking die, but not because he was the one to kill you. You certainly do not want to give him the satisfaction of being the one for you. 
So, you feel your cheeks heating up with the faintest of blushes. 
— What are you going to do with me?
He pushes the knife deeper, sharp edge cutting the thin line into your side. You sob immediately, tears filling your eyes as you almost feel blood – not a lot of it, just a tiny sharp streak – fill your shirt. You want to vomit, hate pain, and everything that is related to it. Thinking that the knife is dirty already and he would probably infect you with whatever one of the 13 STDs Karen has if he were to proceed. He stops right before the blade can penetrate your skin. 
— I’m a serial killer. What do you think I will do with you? 
You shake your head, trying to search for the question that won’t make him plunge a knife into your body. 
— W…what is your favorite color? 
Good job. Amazing job. Let’s hope you don’t like your liver all that much because he is definitely going to cut it out and eat it. 
— Red. I like you. 
Suddenly, you are being pushed to your knees. Suddenly, he is standing right in front of you – he is tall, of course, bulky and big, and he seems even bigger from this angle. Your face is pressed against his crotch and you can feel the dread slowly filling up your weins. Is he going to…
He presses a knife against your lips – you part it obediently, nervously, you feel your face twitching with disgust as your mouth immediately fills with the metallic taste of Karen’s blood. You really need to vomit right fucking now, but he is petting your head with his other hand like someone would do to a dog or a cat, and you sob. Too scared to do anything and here you thought you would finally stop letting people walk all over you. You thought it would start a journey of self-actualization and finding your own priorities, but…
He presses the knife a bit deeper. 
— Someone here has manners. Your friend here was trying to fuck me until she saw a knife. 
Sounds like Karen. You still remember her fucked-out face when she happily stumbled out of your room, with your boyfriend that you thought was never into cheerleaders. She had her urges and it was normal until she started to get off with those urges on everyone who liked you, or who you liked – and with such an innocent smile that no one was ever mad at her. 
He presses the knife against your upper jaw, laying it flat on your tongue – you sob, trying not to shake your head too much as he wipes away your tears and pushes your throat even deeper on the blade. You don’t know how it still hasn’t penetrated you yet. 
— Squealed like a fucking pig, not even fun anymore. I assume she was the whore of your group? 
You shook your shoulders, not wanting to give him any answers. He laughs, pressing the blade down and slightly turning it to the side. You feel the string of saliva running from your open mouth – he wipes it with his finger, leaving blood stains on your face. 
— Clean the knife for me, okay? I might leave you live if you would be good for us. You launch onto the opportunity to save your life so quickly, that you don’t even register the word “us” slipping from his tongue. 
You suck the knife obediently, carefully holding your tongue from the sharp edge so you won’t cut yourself, trying so desperately not to hurt yourself on the blade, that it’s almost adorable, He looks at you, the way you even fucking hollow your cheeks to clean it more efficiently, like you were sucking a cock and, with every passing second, he doesn’t really feel like killing you anymore. 
He feels like keeping you bound to him – maybe cutting your ankles so you would never run away from them, maybe tying you up to the body of your friend and holstering you both to the house, making you watch him gut Karen so you’d know not to run away from them. 
He pets your head like you were a cat – and, god, he always adored cats. 
You hear the noises from the side – your gaze darts to the nearest bushes as the guy waves his hand to someone gigantic sitting down at your side. Two pair of hands are now petting your head like you were a fucking animal – and you’re still sucking on his knife, feeling the pressure on your lips. You want to die, but there is no choice but to keep living. 
— Scheisse, what do you have here? 
A hand goes to cup your face and turns you to the side, to meet the giant, bulky figure fully wrapped in camo gear. His face is concealed with some sort of hood, which makes you shake even more. They both look like soldiers – or soldier-cultist-butchers from a horror movie. But, then again, you are in the fucking horror movie, since the big guy has Karen’s head in his hand, holding her by the hair. You sob even more. 
— Stumbled across me as I was gutting the slut. 
— Is she a smart one then? 
The guy with the knife laughs, yanking the blade from your mouth. You want to close it immediately, but the second guy pushes his finger between your lips, keeping them apart – and you are too scared to even try to bite him. Instead, you sit here, obediently, feeling the alcohol in your system working its magic. Again. Making you drowsy and relaxed, panic drained so much energy from your body, that you genuinely feel horrible. 
— No, wouldn’t say so. Obedient, more like. 
— Not a cool one either. Are you a virgin, Schatz? 
You want to lie, just so you won’t feel so fucking embarrassed because of it – but something in the brutality of what they did to Karen made you reconsider. You just shake your shoulders, not wanting to give a definitive answer. 
— Cute. Been some time since we saw a cute one like this. 
Your sobbing intensifies and the big guy suddenly yanks you on your feet. You immediately feel ill, pressing your head against the tree and emptying your insides – mostly because of the panic and partly because of the amount of alcohol you drank. Their touches are surprisingly soft on your skin, gently removing any stray hairs from your face and holding a firm hand on your back, rubbing the blood and grim into your jacket. 
You stand like this for a few minutes, choking on your own tears, vomit, and blood. They coo at you, gentle hands on your body guiding you towards them just so the second guy – a smaller one, relatively of course – could get a hand in your hair and yank it back. Hard. 
— Calm the fuck down. 
— You’re scaring her, Tigeren. 
— Aren’t we here for this? 
— Thought you liked this one. 
— I do. But…
— But? 
— Not fun to take her just now. She can help stir her friends a little. Make them run a little. 
They fucking killed Karen and they want to…let you go? They made you clean their knives, stand on your knees in front of them, and then gently helped you empty your insides – just to let you go when you could run into the nearest policeman and destroy their whole little game? Are they dumb or overly confident? 
— She could run. I would rather keep her with us. 
— They won’t get out of these forests without phones. And their car is already…shit. Spoilers. 
— Alright. But I would be the first to take her next time. 
— She won’t be any good after you, Ko. 
— Our Kleine Hase has more than one hole, ja? 
This is it. 
You take the opportunity – they are distracted by their little conversation, so you duck under the hand of the bigger man and run in the close direction to where the group is sitting. You are covered in blood, and dirt, you shake like crazy and you can barely even run straight without getting right into the various trees, but you don’t care. You aren’t strong enough to sit here and listen to their conversation – not when the self-preservation makes you forget about Karen. Not when that feeling in your chest can only be described as “She got what she asked for” – because she was a bitch, but not nearly enough to deserve being beheaded by two psychos. 
They laugh as they watch you run. Horangi smiles, nudging Konig to the side – you’re not a fighter, but still interesting enough. Adorable and obedient, just vile enough to suck on the same knife that killed your friend – interesting mix, to say the least. Hongjin always wanted a cat, but never got the time on the various deployments – and you behave like a perfect mix of a kitten and bunny. 
Konig tilts his head to the side, watching you, this pathetic little thing, run like the devil was after you. He was, of course. and he came in double, but it was still funny, how a city girl like you seriously thought you would be able to get away if they weren’t allowing you to. You’re cute, for a tourist, and he wants to hunt you some more – perfect foreplay before destroying you with either his cock or his knife. 
One down – and both of them couldn’t wait to finally get to you. 
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r-2-peepoo · 7 months ago
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I love Anakin as a character but I think Star Wars as a whole needs to be less forgiving of him and his actions and I think Rex is the perfect character to explore this idea.
Rex wants to save his brothers more than anything and we know that he fails and never recovers from the trauma. It was an impossible task but he fought so hard for it. The clones don’t become a thriving community after the Empire falls. Few live to remember their sacrifice or that they were even there to begin with. They’re wiped off the map and that’s it and Rex just has the live with it.
Imagine realistically how you would feel if you were him and you learned that a huge reason why the Empire was even allowed to rise in the first place is because of the man who you trusted, who was one of your closest friends for three years, who convinced you that he thought of you as a person unlike the rest of the galaxy. I wouldn’t ever be able to look past it, and I don’t think Rex would or should either.
Obi Wan considers Anakin metaphorically dead because it’s the only way to cope with the grief.
Ahsoka has a more complicated view of him because of the distance leaving the Jedi order put between them.
Luke is able to forgive him in the only way that is narratively compelling, because he sees him as his father and not as the monster everyone else does.
Leia never forgives him (nor should she) but grows to understand him more over time.
Padme uses her dying breath to vouch for him even if he doesn’t deserve it.
If Rex didn’t forgive Anakin, it would offer yet another perspective. He is someone who loved Anakin, but Anakin is a huge reason why his brothers are dead. Anakin is the one who used his brothers as the tools they had always been told they were to march on the Jedi temple and murder the Jedi, the only allies the Clones ever truly had. Everything that happens during the reign of the Empire, including whatever goes down in the Bad Batch finale, is part of a huge domino effect because of Anakin’s choices. It would be tragic to see their friendship end this way, but Rex’s entire life is rife with tragedy. Ahsoka is the only positive result of his friendship with Anakin left. They only have each other.
I want Rex to be angry at him. Anakin’s actions are abhorrent and to downplay them only does Anakin a disservice as a character and denies his agency. Yes, he’s a victim of Palpatine’s grooming. He is also the perpetrator of a literal reign of terror and there are few groups of people who are bigger victims of the Empire he helped create than the clones.
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revehae · 10 months ago
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hurts so good (1)
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pairing ↠ jeno x you x mark
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, impact play, cheating
summary ↠ mark is too gentle for you in bed and when you share this problem with a mutual friend, jeno, he's more than willing to help you get off.
wc ↠ 4.2k
a/n ↠ this part one of a repost! i love this fic and it would be a sin to not share it with the world again. also i kinda love this banner… mark’s looking off to the side; jeno looks straight into the camera. it’s perfect
don’t like it, don’t read.
no matter how much you knew you loved mark, you couldn’t shake the itch you had. 
an itch that needed scratching. which he was not very good at doing.
mark kissed his way down your belly, trailing a gentle column of pecks to your thighs. you resisted a frown that desperately wanted to cling to your lips. for the past couple of weeks, your boyfriend had been attempting to initiate sex with you, but every time up until now, you had turned him down.
it wasn’t that you weren’t sexually attracted to mark or anything like that. first of all, you dumbfounded by how fine your boyfriend was. unbeknownst to him, every now and then, you would touch yourself to thoughts of him and mental images of his handsome little face.
the problem was that those fantasies tended to get you off harder than he did.
“you’re so pretty,” mark murmured, running a hand through your folds. you were wet - because your body couldn’t deny wanting him, much less when he put his hands on you - though not nearly as wet as you could have been.
mark didn’t need to know that. in fact, the only reason you had agreed to letting him fuck you now was because you didn’t want him to assume that you were cheating and had found more than adequate loving elsewhere (not that you had just yet). and maybe you were also a little sexually frustrated and you knew this was the closest to release you would get without actually seeking out another partner. mark was the love of your life and you never wanted to break his heart like that, so half the time you sucked it up and closed your eyes.
the sex was good. you would never deny that. but good wasn’t good enough.
mark dipped his head between your thighs, now starting to lap at your cunt which guaranteed a mind-blowing orgasm, and you let him have his way with you for a while.
one time, you told mark that you and a group of friends were competitively abstaining from having sex and foreplay was the sole thing that wasn’t strictly forbidden. for insurance, you convinced rosé and her boyfriend jaehyun to vouch for you. you and mark spent the week blowing each other and to this day nothing mark did got you off as hard as it did when he ate you out.
but after a while, you tugged mark’s hair, purring, “fuck me.”
mark pulled back, a little baffled. he liked eating you out. he noticed that it made you cum harder. “i haven’t prepared you yet. i don’t wanna hurt you.”
that’s the problem, you thought, miffed. “it’s okay. i can take it, baby.”
“are you sure?” mark’s brows were furrowed. it was cute. you also liked the way his brows furrowed when he was balls deep inside you.
“mm-hm. fuck me, please.”
mark reluctantly obeyed, because the last thing he wanted was to cause you any pain, but you kept insisting it would be fine. he was the type to always put your pleasure before his own, even if it meant ignoring how hard his dick throbbed and how desperately he needed to fuck you, because he loved you and you were his world. it was appreciated on your end, that was no doubt, but a bit of a nuisance.
with mark hovering above you now, you gripped his shoulders, biting your lip when he at last penetrated you. mark was slow and steady, at least when he first started fucking you, taking his sweet time to push every inch inside you. tears stung your eyes. there was a slight burn to his every thrust, and his steady pace prolonged the pain, but you were in love with it. plus your boyfriend leaned a little towards the girthy side. 
mark noticed your tears instantly and ground to a halt. “does it hurt?”
“no,” you lied, because you didn’t need him to worry his pretty little ass off. “feels good, markie. keep going.”
you gave a kiss of reassurance to his neck and that was all mark needed to pick back up where he left off, pushing in deeper with every thrust until he was completely swallowed by you. the whole time, mark was still kissing you, as if he was trying to take your mind off it. you wished he wasn’t afraid to be a little bit rougher with you. come to think of it, there wasn’t a single time where mark had ever hurt you on purpose - not even a smack to your ass or slap to your thigh. 
it made you feel guilty knowing your boyfriend was only being the caring gentleman that you had fallen for, but you couldn’t help what turned you on. you liked when he underestimated his strength, handling you a little bit harder than intended, or when he came and absent-mindedly gripped your hips like a vice, knuckles white and his hold tight enough to bruise. mark would apologize over and over, insisting he didn’t intend to, but you never complained. you liked to see the little bruises in the mirror or catch glimpses of them throughout the day.
at one point, mark picked up his pace, slapping his hips into yours with a rhythm. “harder,” you told him, wanting him to break you. “i can take it.”
mark did as told, though not without gently kissing your lips and telling you how beautiful you were. to mark, it was always a sight to see you like this. he was so proud to call you his. he was in love with how you sucked him in, how tight you were, but most importantly, he was in love with you and hoped his body would convey that during sex.
you moaned at how deep he was, closing your eyes and tuning him out. what would it take for him to break you - to fuck you like he hated you?
“almost there, baby,” mark groaned a little later, bringing his hands to your clit because he knew your body intimately and that was his saving grace.
“cum inside,” you whimpered, imagining him making threats of getting you pregnant. you could hear his voice in your head. that, combined with the drive of hips into yours, was the force pushing you towards the end.
mark kept pounding you out, becoming less and less steady. it was a telltale sign of him being close to release. your pleas for him to come inside you only made it worse, because the thought was at the front of his mind and he desperately needed to fill you to your utter capacity.
you needed him to cum inside you so badly. mark was groaning and grunting, unraveling before your eyes. at last he emptied his load into you, hips still rocking into yours until he reached the last of his high. you moaned at the feeling of him filling you to the brim, his fingers digging into your hips harshly.
mark, now returning to earth, glanced at you and frowned. “you didn’t cum.”
“i did.”
“don’t lie to me. that’s the worst thing you can do.”
you frowned. 
mark crept closer, running a finger over your cheek. he wanted absolute eye contact. “what am i doing wrong?”
“it’s not you, baby. i promise,” you sighed, running your fingers through his hair. “it’s me. i liked it. i’m just a little hard to please.”
mark retorted sharply, “and what does it mean if i can’t please you?”
“you do a very good job at pleasing me, mark. i told you, it feels good when you’re in me. don’t overthink it,” you told him sweetly. in all honesty, it wasn’t far from the truth. mark hit you in all the right places. there was just something missing.
mark leaned into your neck and murmured, “are you sure?”
“yes. so don’t worry your pretty little head.”
“okay,” mark huffed and moved his head to your chest.
two weeks later, you found yourself at jeno’s place. he was a mutual friend of you and mark and somebody you were both very close with. you had come over to drop off a plate of strawberry tiramisu per mark’s request but, as to be expected, got tangled in conversation.
jeno, curious as ever, asked, “speaking of mark, what’s going on with you and my boy?” 
you furrowed your brows. “what do you mean?” 
“he’s in one of those ‘my-girl-hates-me’ moods again. i thought you guys had gotten into an argument or something, but he won’t tell me, and since he’s so down in his spirits i just left it alone,” jeno said with a shrug.
you bit your lip. you had two options. you could either keep what happens with you and mark between you and mark, or you could open up a little. jeno was a trustworthy guy and friend, and thus you were more inclined to be honest with him. “we’ve hit a wall lately,” you said vaguely.
“as in?”
“as in the sex is very… how do i put this… we’re not having sex very often,” you explained, clearing your throat. 
that clearly got jeno’s attention. “don’t tell me mark’s game is declining.”
“no, it’s not mark. the sex is good. it’s just...,” you chewed over your words, unsure of how to put it in a way that could rationalize how you felt. without coming off completely insane. “he’s too gentle,” you whispered. 
to your surprise, jeno didn’t look at you like you had fifty heads. he actually seemed amused. jeno cocked his head, a smiling tugging at his lips, and asked, “and you like it rough?”
you nodded. to say the least. 
“have you communicated that with him?”
“i mean, no. but i have my reasons. how am i supposed to go up to him and tell him the reason i’m not cumming is because he’s not fucking me within an inch of my life?”
jeno chuckled. “my boy is a softie when in love,” he said.
exasperated, you leaned your head against jeno’s shoulder and groaned, “exactly. and i feel like an idiot for complaining about that of all things. he’s literally doing everything right. even if i did tell him, i seriously don’t even think he’s capable of hurting me on purpose.”
“i mean, how rough do you like it?” jeno’s question didn’t strike you as anything but an attempt to be helpful. “do you like getting spanked?”
“yes,” you said frankly.
“slapped?”
“yes.”
“hair pulling?”
“that’s the least extreme think i like.”
“flogging?”
“okay, now you’re crossing a line,” you said. that was a bit too extreme.
jeno threw up his hands. “hey, you’re the freak, not me.”
you frowned. you were thinking about mark again. he was the perfect boyfriend. maybe you should’ve let him go so he could find somebody that could appreciate him and all his efforts to show his girlfriend love, but you were too selfish for that. you threw jeno a glance. “do you think i’m crazy?”
jeno shook his head. “no, i think there’s a line between pain and pleasure. for some of us it’s thinner than it is for others. for some of us it’s larger,” he said, a little more sober than you expected.
which made you think. it wasn’t very often that you ranted about your life problems to jeno, though whenever you did, he always proved himself to be a good listener and good at giving you sound advice (no matter how inconsequential your problems might’ve seemed).
then, your attention flitted elsewhere, eyes at his bulging biceps. you were too in your head to really notice that he had his arm around you, and mark surely didn’t send you over here to snuggle with his best friend. you didn’t fail to notice that jeno was muscular because you weren’t blind and he made no attempt to hide it, the opposite rather, always proudly flaunting his physique. but this was the first time you were having thoughts that you probably shouldn’t.
you called, “jeno?”
“hm?”
“do you think mark would encourage me to seek out somebody else if he couldn’t fulfill my needs, or would he want to work through it?”
now that was the million dollar question. on the one hand, your question was not lost on jeno and he saw dead through you. you had been less than discreetly checking him out. but on the other, you were mark’s girl and it was the proper thing to do to give you an honest response. “both,” jeno told you, honest as could be. “because he wants you to be happy more than anything, but i know the second he let a pretty little thing like you go, he would lose his mind.”
your cheeks got warm. jeno just called me pretty, you thought. then, you instantly chided yourself. mark called you pretty too. and you liked it. the only reason you were getting excited because of jeno doing it was because there was a chance he could be the one to satisfy those cravings lurking inside you.
jeno cocked his head. “do you want me to help you?”
“help me how?”
“with that problem of yours,” he said, amused that you were playing dumb. as if you weren’t giving him those eyes only a moment ago. “girls always tell me i’m the right amount of rough.”
you gawked. “are you offering to have sex with me?”
jeno shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. to be honest, he had wanted you for a while now, but again, you were mark’s girl. “somebody’s gotta do it. i wouldn’t mind.”
you hated that you were actually considering it. your thighs tingled with excitement, wanting it more than anything. but your boyfriend never once left your mind. “what about mark?”
“he’ll be glad it’s just me instead of somebody else,” jeno said confidently.
“you say that like mark himself told you that.”
jeno shrugged again. “it’s a yes or a no, princess.”
you mulled it over. this was a very, very stupid idea. and an egregious mistake in the making. but when you were thinking with your pussy instead of your head, all rational thoughts were completely off the table.
“yes,” you said, your better judgement clouded.
jeno smirked, satisfied with your answer. and lifted you into his burly arms, ignoring how you cried out in surprise while he carried you to his bedroom. you had no time to recover before he threw you against his mattress, wasting no time to climb on top of you and pull at your clothes with a vengeance. and you let him, because you were inclined to let jeno do whatever he wanted to you right now.
forget the consequences. you would worry about that part later.
you heard fabric tear and gawked in surprise when you realized jeno had torn your underwear off, sitting up to look at him, only to be roughly forced down your back again. he leaned directly over you, searching your face with fire smoldering in his sharp eyes. “i’m not mark. you’re not going to have your way with me. you’re going to lie down and take what i give you,” he hissed, voice low but clear as ever.
all you could do was nod. the words were sucked out of you. your throat had gone dry. and your muscles were painfully stiff. for now.
satisfied, jeno crept back down your body, positioning himself between your thighs. he ran his fingers over your folds and chuckled. you were already so wet from nothing at all. he didn’t intend to prep you very much, but pushed his fingers in and out of your pussy merely to feel how tight it wrapped around them. you impatiently whimpered out his name, clearly needy, and earned yourself a solid slap to the cunt.
you immediately squeezed your thighs back together, letting out another, more agonized noise, but jeno yanked them back apart just as quickly and your strength was no match for his, keeping your legs spread even as he smacked you a second time.
“jeno,” you whimpered again, tears bundling together in your lashes. you had chosen a godawful day to wear mascara.
jeno was completely unfazed, opening his bedside drawer to rummage around for a condom and held it up, cocking his brow at you. “condom or no condom?”
“are you clean?”
“yep,” said jeno. “i got tested a couple of weeks ago.”
“then, please fuck me raw,” you begged, throbbing at the thought. even when mark came inside you, you almost found it better than the sex itself.
jeno tossed the condom to the side with a chuckle and stepped out of his boxers, which made your jaw slacken. you had seen the imprint of his dick only moments prior and had tried your best to pretend like it didn’t bother you, but the sight of his hard cock standing tall against his stomach was enough to make you cry. jeno cocked his brow at you again, snickering to himself, and lined himself up at your entrance.
the wind was knocked out of you. good god he’s packing.
you sucked in a breath when jeno forced his way inside you, tears rolling down your cheeks at how much he stretched you out. you couldn’t even take all of it at once, but jeno would make you, ignoring the whimpers you cried as he stuffed you to the hilt. his brows scrunched together, fingers clawing into your hips to anchor himself with how deep he was inside you, and you swallowed every deliciously guttural sound that left his lips.
then, jeno had a brief lull of indecision, and pulled back out to roughly flip you over, just to penetrate you again just as quickly once you scrambled on your hands and knees. “fuck,” you whined, filling once more a surreal fusion of pain and pleasure.
jeno had told you there was a thin line between pain and pleasure. and as far as you were concerned, he had never been more right.
jeno, hands at your hips, asked huskily, “does it hurt?”
you bobbed your head, unable to stop the flow of tears. but i love it, you added in your head.
jeno was satisfied. “good,” he replied smugly.
never had you felt so full. you could feel him in the pit of your stomach and it was driving you mad. jeno had no intention of letting you adjust to his size either, already brutally smacking his hips against yours with a vengeance.
you let out a noise when jeno gripped your jaw, abruptly lifting up your tear-stained face. “look at yourself,” he growled, forcing you to look into the mirror across from his bed. no wonder he made you change positions. “shame you ruined all that pretty makeup with those tears.”
you looked a damn mess and it didn’t help that you had jeno rutting into you from behind, making you lose any and all sense of order you still had. jeno loved how helpless you looked. all you could do was lie there and take it, and you could barely even do that. when you tried to look away, he forced your face back where he wanted it, chin between his fingers, and said darkly, “i don’t like to repeat myself. look at yourself. i want you to watch yourself get fucked by your boyfriend’s friend because you can’t get off to being fucked normally.”
that made your walls clamp around him, and consequently a deep howl escaped jeno. it was criminal how sexy he sounded, and the more you pleasured him, the rougher his hands got on your body. you could already feel the bruises at your hips that would probably take weeks to completely fade.
a certain sharp thrust made you whimper and hang your head, singing out his name. jeno slapped your cheek and the sting went straight to your cunt, making you clench around him. you brought your head back to the mirror, remembering you were supposed to be watching yourself, though you were tempted to glance off just so that he would hit you again.
jeno shook his head when he felt you clench around him, chuckling to himself. he smacked his palm against your face again for amusement, just to see you soak in the pain. “you’re so pathetic, you know that?” he asked, followed by a laugh. “need to get roughed up to get off?”
you whined, “please…”
“please what?” jeno asked, in spite of knowing damn well what you wanted. but he wanted to hear you say it. he wanted you to hear how pathetic you sounded.
you bit your lip. was he really going to make you say it? “please hit me,” you whispered.
jeno hummed, furrowing his brows in mock confusion. “kiss you?”
you shook your head and cried, “jeno, please hit me again.”
satisfied, jeno gripped your jaw in his fingers to keep it in place as he forced you to look in the mirror, then slapped your cheeks a couple of times. “is that hard enough for you, baby?” 
“harder,” you whimpered. 
jeno laughed. 
jeno kept hitting you and throwing you around, whispering the cruelest of words in your ear and telling you how disgusting you were for liking getting roughed up. it should have humiliated you, but it also brought you closer to climax in record time.
jeno wasn’t far behind you, because you kept tightening around him every every degrading word and violent touch, and it drove him mad with lust. not a single part of him was worried about mark right now, and from the looks of it, you had forgotten about your boyfriend too, completely absorbed in how jeno was hitting you in all the right places. literally.
face to face with climax, jeno gripped your hair, pulling it back. you whined, but jeno merely nibbled at your ear before saying, “i’m gonna cum in this tight little pussy and you’re gonna take every drop.”
“yes, please,” you replied, not opposed at all. “fill me up, jeno. please.”
“fuck,” jeno groaned, slapping his hips into yours even harsher. you were so fucking perfect that he was tempted to steal you from mark and make you his bitch. and he might have already done that without even trying.
with a couple more hits, you were unraveling around jeno and it triggered his own orgasm. he came inside you with a grunt and leaned over you to clamp his teeth into your shoulder, trying to smother his own sounds. you, on the other hand, couldn’t control the noises that left you, moaning and shaking harder than ever as your climax got the best of you.
jeno pulled out, sated, and watched you crumble on his sheets, chest heaving. “good?” he asked. 
you nodded, still trying to catch your breath. and clear your mind. “yeah,” you croaked, blinking. “thank you.”
jeno snickered. “any time. i can tell you needed it.”
damn right, you thought.
you cleaned yourself up and as if nothing had happened, jeno thanked you for the tiramisu before you headed home to mark. before you got in the car, you grabbed your phone to let him know you were on the way back, and were thrown for a loop when you saw what time it was, plus the missed texts you had from your boyfriend. you had completely loss track of time.
when you stepped inside the house, mark was in the living room watching the amazing spider-man 2, and immediately turned around when he heard the door unlocking. “babe,” he said, leaping up to hug you. “i missed you.”
“i wasn’t gone that long,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around your boy. he felt safe. “but i missed you too.”
mark never wanted to let you go, and he didn’t, but there was a little frown on his face when he murmured into your neck, “you smell like jeno.”
you swallowed. “well, i was at jeno’s house. where jeno lives.”
“you were there for a while.”
“yeah, well,” you started, guilt suddenly blindsiding you. “you know how jeno is. can never say hi and bye and be done. he always has to start a conversation.”
“sounds like him,” mark said, nodding. “did he at least like the tiramisu?” 
“of course he did. he’s jeno.”
mark chuckled. “wanna watch gwen stacy die for the billionth time with me?”
you frowned. “only if we watch andrew save tom’s mj right after,” you replied. 
“deal.”
the two of you ran to the couch, and you pushed your guilt to the back of your heart as you snuggled in your boyfriend’s arms, trying desperately to forget what you just did to him.
“babe, i’m gonna go make us some popcorn,” mark said, slowly backing away from you. 
you sent him off with a nod, smiling and flitting your gaze back to the television screen. 
in the kitchen, mark opened the pantry and slid his phone from his pockets to open his text messages. how’d it go?
how do you think? 
mark rolled his eyes. she’s glowing. what did you do? 
it’s not that hard, mark. all you gotta do is slap her around a little. 
mark poked out his head, watching you with your eyes fixated to the screen. i’ll keep that in mind, he replied back. 
there was no reply and mark’s phone didn’t buzz until the microwave beeped. still on for friday?
you bet. 
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