#but the challenge of figuring out the rhythm was what really drew me in

[spectrearia]

trying out a controller overlay for future Project Diva captures. might have to fiddle with it a bit to get it at a good size but here's a test video for now!

figured it'd be kinda cool for y'all to actually see the inputs instead of just the chaos that's happening on screen lol. tested it with a tricky Pinnochio-P song just for kicks... his music is so hard for me to play honestly, but I did my best! ;o;

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Let’s say England has a long-term girlfriend he knows isn’t the biggest fan of marriage bc her family had been really really pushy (before she got the heck out of dodge) about her marrying + reproducing ASAP. How might he react if she came to him and said she was kinda starting to like the general concept of marrying him — that is, the whole ‘together forever’ bit. Thanks!

I confess darling that I have been trying to finish this prompt for well over a year, and I offer my sincerest apologies that it’s taken me this long to finish it. Still, despite my tardiness, I hope you enjoy, and I thank you for your patience with me.

You had never intended to fall in love, not with the constant push of your relatives to fall in line like a perfect child.

First, marriage to someone they deemed acceptable, raising the perfect 2.5 children, followed by quietly settling into parenthood and complaisant contentment until the day you last drew breath.

Truth of the matter was, you had avoided all chances of romance for the first few years after you moved away from home, carefully slipping away from anyone who seemed remotely interested in you.

You knew your folks would have disproved such behaviour had they learnt the truth, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You had your own dreams to pursue, your own story to tell, your own life to live; you didn't need someone by your side to feel complete.

You were happy as you were, finding enjoyment in your work and figuring out your place in the world.

You didn’t need, or frankly want, anything more than that.

That was of course until you met him.

Falling in love with Arthur Kirkland had been a complete accident. He slipped past all of your defenses and took up residence in your heart as if he had always belonged there.

It started out slow enough; at first you simply knew him as a familiar face from the cafe in Waterstones, steaming cup of Darjeeling and a chocolate croissant sitting forgotten on the table in front of him, always too focused on his reading to pay any attention to the outside world. After one particularly crowded Sunday afternoon, he began to transition into your favorite dining companion, the two of you often taking turns paying for each other’s food. Slowly but surely, you began forgetting about your books, too wrapped up in conversation, and before you knew it-

You had come to love every part of him- the gentleman that you begrudgingly introduced to your parents, the rebellious and passionate activist, the cocky and playful little shit who had long ago memorised all the best ways to disarm you, and the ancient soul who cared so deeply, who still stretched himself thin most days in effort to protect each of his loved ones.

You fell in love with his voice, whispering sonnets and sonatas and sweet nothings in your ear while his arms cradled you from behind.

You fell in love with his eyes, still losing your footing sometimes when the light caught them just right, dreaming momentarily of summer forests and grassy glades and the misty dews of spring.

You fell in love with his smiles, from the satisfied grin at stirring up Peter’s ire to the breathless wonder each time you kissed or complimented him, to the bright, beautiful, blinding smile he wore when he was incandescently happy, his entire countenance iridescent from his joy.

You loved him completely- for his devotion, for his sweet gestures, for his damned impishness, for his wit, his sass, and the soft spoken affection.

You loved him: for his patience, for his recklessness, for his resilience, for his possessive pride that was somehow more charming than alarming.

He was unique, an enigma that, even after having lived together for years and dating even longer, kept you on your toes, his energy and random spouts of spontaneity proving to you that, even if you spent one hundred lifetimes with him, he would always remain a puzzle you would never fully solve.

And by God did you want to.

Arthur had stolen your heart away from you before you had even noticed he was close enough to take it, offering his own in its stead.

You had remained reluctant, confided in him your fears about settling down, how much you dreaded becoming trapped in a monotonous rut of tedium. He was quick to reassure you, showing through words and actions far more impassioned and teasing than he had ever shown prior, that an eternity with him could never be boring.

Even on quiet days, like today, with a steady drizzle painting the world in greys, Arthur humming quietly while adding another patch to his denim vest, and no other disturbance apart from the cat’s chittering at the robins playing in a puddle by the iron fence- Even now, you weren’t so much bored as you were pensive.

You had been thinking about a future with him a lot in the past few days, some irrelevant ad on your mobile about wedding venues catching your attention and slithering into the back of your mind.

What kind of wedding would he like? Would Arthur prefer something small and intimate, or would his hubris crave a larger venue, giving him yet another chance to prove to the world that he belonged at your side, no one else?  You couldn’t help but wonder if he would wear his uniform or a suit, if he would leave the rats' nest he called a hairstyle untouched, or if he would perhaps slick it back in that way that somehow made the normal rakishness disappear, a confident, refined cavalier standing in his place.

You knew of course that none of this mattered unless you actually talked to him first; as far as you were aware, he was content with the current arrangement, and he respected your views of marriage.

He had known, for a long time, just where the grim outlook stemmed from, and he never breached the subject again.

But now-

You had thought it was enough to hold his love, his faith, his vulnerabilities. But life was so fleeting, and now those few things were no longer enough.

You wanted to wake up every morning next to him, wanted the cheesy partners’ towel and flip flop sets. You wanted the physical reminder that you held his heart, the comforting reminder that he completely possessed your own. You wanted to be by his side forever, holding his hand through the good and the ill, facing new worlds and challenges and the uncertain future together.

You knew the risks, of course.

Marriage to a Nation carried an even heavier burden than the simple oath of “till death do us part.”

No, marrying Arthur would mean weaving your entire lives together, binding you on a spiritual level far surpassing mortality; it would mean sacrificing your chance to ever grow old, to eternally give yourself away: heart, mind, body, and soul.

But this was Arthur, who sang showtunes in the shower, who spent hours making silly faces at the cat, who was ridiculously competitive about Halloween costumes, the man who sat down and memorised the entirety of The Tempest in one night just for the bragging rights.

He already owned your heart, constantly invaded your thoughts and daydreams, and God knew he had long, long ago claimed your body, making certain not a single millimeter of his new territory went unexplored.

Would it really be so bad to give him your soul, too?

Glancing back up, seeing his eyes narrowed in concentration, his fingers handling the needle with expert precision, lips slightly parted, reading glasses fallen halfway down his nose-

You knew your answer.

It was always going to be Arthur for you, only Arthur.

Forever, should he have you.

But now you faced the challenge of telling him that.

It should be simple enough; you really held no more secrets from him, and he no longer bothered trying to hide anything from you. You loved how open you were with one another, cherished the honesty that served as the very foundation to your relationship.

But the truth was that you were terrified.

It had been so long since either of you had spoken of marriage, since the topic was even a thought in your minds, and-

What if he didn't want you anymore?

What if he-

"I can see the steam coming outta your ears."

The unexpected presence of Arthur's voice startled you, eyes darting back over to the very man who was unwittingly tormenting you.

He had barely moved from his earlier position, though his glasses had been pushed up into his hair and he was studying you curiously, if not bemusedly.

"You good there?"

By default, you nearly responded with an affirmative, some playful, lighthearted thing that would have dismissed his concern immediately. You cut yourself off mid-start, then, while shifting to sit properly in the armchair, you decided to push forward. "Can we talk?"

You watched as his expression shifted, revealing his concern as he tied off his thread, setting aside the patchwork and gestured for you to join him on the sofa.

There were a few awkward moments where you took up your favourite positions, Arthur tossing an afghan across the pair of you despite your insistence that you didn't need one, the flicker of a grin as you begrudgingly thanked him, and then shifting around as you both got comfortable, but soon enough-

"Alright, now; talketh at-eth me."

It was impossible to fight the smile his choice of words triggered, a reference to an inside joke so old now that you could scarcely recall its origin. Seeming to deem it a success, his own soft, reassuring smile greeted you.

"Seriously though, luv-" His hand came to rest atop your own, his fingers gently tapping a familiar rhythm against your skin. "What's troubling you?"

You were half-tempted to offer something short of sincerity, something innocuous and mundane that you could both laugh over and forget again within a few hours. Yet, you knew that if you didn't tell him now, didn't ask him now, you would never find the courage again.

"I've been thinking-"

"Ah. A scary premise in its own right."

"Oh, shut up," you retorted to his tease, smacking his arm for his troubles. He rewarded you with a grin, all fondness and mischief. Opting to ignore him, you pressed on, eyes downcast to avoid whatever judgement he may offer.

"As I was trying to say earlier, before I was so rudely interrupted-" The teasing fell off, and the worry crept back in. "I've been thinking. About us."

"O-oh?"

Were you not so consumed by your own anxieties, you would have noticed his stutter, would have seen the sudden tension in his posture, the fear in his eyes. As it was, you were completely oblivious to all of it, and made yourself continue at his prompting.

"I- I think I'm ready."

He mimed the word "ready" to himself, parroting it with utter befuddlement. "For wha-"

"I mean, I know I wasn't for such a long time, and-" Suddenly, you were off, half unhinged. Now that you had admitted the truth aloud, it was all rushing out of you, everything you had come to love about him, everything that-

A finger pressing firmly against your lips stopped you mid-tangent, and when you glanced up to find piercing, blazing emerald focused on you as if you were the very center of the universe, whatever remained of your ramblings disappeared entirely.

"What are you trying to say?"

A simple question, so easy to answer, yet it carried with it the weight of Infinities, demanding nothing save the truth, in its most basic state.

You were lost in his gravity, half-drowning in whatever this new feeling was. It was addicting, another riddle to be solved.

"Marry me."

Time stood still, the words weighing heavily in the space between you, now seemingly insurmountable despite being no more than mere decimeters.

Arthur showed no reaction, revealed no indication that he had even heard your plea, your query, your command, your request, and yet it echoed over and over in your own mind, the tone, the weight, the untimeliness-

Every facet- from your inflection to chosen tempo- crescandoed as an accusation, a mocking symphony that he would reject you, that you would be left with only the haunting strains of your ill-conceived proposal.

And yet-

There was a hesitation in his eyes, the face of a man who wanted wholeheartedly to believe what he had heard, but had been burned far too often in the past to dare allow himself hope.

"You-" His eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed as he studied you once more, only for the suspicion to disappear again almost immediately, disbelief swiftly taking its place. "You're serious?"

It was then that you finally read his nervousness, understood the strange emotion reflecting in his eyes.

You had lead him to a precipice, the vast Unknown before you both, and-

And he was just as fragile as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.

You gave his hand a light squeeze, hoping to ground you both, and offered him a nod. “If you’ll have me, anyway.”

His eyes flickered between your own, darting back-and-forth so quickly in search of a lie, of any doubts, of any hint that you were less than certain- yet you knew he would find none of that.

“What about your family?”

The question took you by surprise; in the moment, you had completely forgotten anyone else even existed.

You weighed his question carefully. Marrying Arthur would give your family leave to gloat in self-satisfaction, and you knew with absolutely certainty that they would hold it over your head for the next three decades. But looking into the eyes of the man before you, remembering all that you had already seen and done together, you found that others' opinions no longer mattered, really hadn't mattered in a long, long time.

“I couldn’t care less about them. Arth-”

Whatever you were going to say was forgotten as he closed the remaining distance between you, moving so swiftly that you scarcely had a moment to steady yourself before he captured you in a searing kiss, one of his most passionate by far.

Somehow, despite the suddenness of it all, the initial force, the intensity- 

He was being incredibly gentle, and moving slowly enough to almost be more a torment than a treat. Almost.

You found yourself lost in a daze when he finally pulled away, just enough for each of you to catch your breaths, just far enough that he could study you with rapt attention. You could have drowned in his eyes, endless greens magnetizing in their intensity. His hands were still cradling your cheeks, still holding you firmly in place, a not completely foreign expression creasing his features.

You couldn't quite place it, even as your memories shifted desperately in search of its mate.

"'If I'd have you?'" His words, a rhetorical refrain of your own mere moments earlier, were scarcely a shared breath between you, murmured in timbre so low it summoned a shiver. There was the smallest twitch of his lip, his head tilting ever so slightly as more of that damned deviousness made its presence known. "I fully intend to have you regardless, luv. But the formality of it all certainly adds a particular je ne sais quoi, wouldn't you agree?"

You'd be damned if he knew just how that made your heart flutter, if he knew just how much weight that reassurance had lifted from your shoulders.

Carefree, content, you offered a playful smile. "Till death do us part then?"

Arthur no longer bothered trying to restrain his smile, soft and sincere in a way that left you breathless. "I'll love you till even the stars go cold, my dear."

Thanks for reading~

[imaginemalereader]

Anonymous request

“Hey, [Y/N].” You turned around and saw Draco walking quickly to catch up with you. You raised an eyebrow at him, silently questioning why he was following you.

Now that he had caught up, he looked down at his shoes, really looking anywhere but your face.

“Did you want something?” You asked.

“You planning to go to that stupid ball?” He asked.

Internally, your heart jumped. Was he leading where you thought he was? You figured there were two possible outcomes. He either mocked you or asked you to the dance. Needless to say, you were hoping for the latter.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I haven’t asked anyone or been asked.”

“Would you want to go if someone asked?”

“Maybe if the right someone did.” It was a bit more coy than you really intended but you still didn’t want to completely get your hopes up.

“Oh yeah? And who would that right someone be?”

Both of your faces were heating up as you danced around the question that you were now almost certain he intended to ask. You didn’t want to step forward and ask it yourself, that lingering doubt that maybe this was all just to make fun of you. Besides, being trans, there was always some question of how the other person was seeing you. Malfoy had been one of the most nonchalant about your gender and you had actually heard him correct people who misgendered you. It was one of many reasons you actually liked him, more than liked him honestly.

“Why do you need to know?”

You could see him hesitate. The usually confident, downright cocky, Draco Malfoy was hesitant. He made a decision thought, because he pressed on.

“Because I want to know what you would say if I asked you.”

“I would say yes.”

You both acknowledged that as him asking you to the Yule Ball and began making plans. You had nothing to wear, so Draco took you to Hogsmeade one weekend and you picked out some dress robes.

The more time the two of you spent together, the more you two found yourselves drawn to each other. You found a lot more depth to him than you initially thought and found he could actually be funny and clever and nice. He thought you were kind, he always had, but he admired it so much more as he got to experience it first hand. Your whole personality drew him in, made him feel like he could relax around you and be more himself than who everyone expected or wanted him to be.

As the dance drew closer, you spent more and more time together. You studied, practiced quidditch, and went on a couple dates. 

When the night of the dance came, you met at the doors to the hall. You both froze, taking in each other. Draco had opted for traditional black and white robes while you had chosen to go for a color.

“You look, regal.” You told him, not sure if that was really the word you wanted but it did work.

“Thank you. And you, you look handsome.”

“Thank you.” You both were blushing redder than Victor Krum’s outfit. He offered his arm and walked you in.

After the challengers had opened the dance, you led Draco out to the floor to join the other couples. The first few dances were faster and you found yourselves laughing as you danced around the floor, occasionally bumping into others.

When the dance slowed down, you stepped closer and put one hand on Draco’s waist while the other held his hand. He let you lead as you stepped to the music, swaying softly with the rhythm. His hand rested on your shoulder and he couldn’t help watching your face as you focused on the music and the proper steps. 

You glanced at him, looking away from your own feet and caught him staring.

“What are you looking at?” You asked.

“Just, you, I guess.” He admitted.

“Like what you’re seeing?” You asked softly, only somewhat teasing.

“I do.”

“Good. I like looking at you too.” This got him to laugh quietly.

He bent his head down and your foreheads bumped together. You were still moving slowly as you moved closer together.

“Thank you for agreeing to come with me.”

“Thanks for asking me.” You smiled. To think, you probably wouldn’t have what you would now consider a boyfriend if he hadn’t stopped you after class one day. “I’ve loved spending time with you.”

“I have too. I’ve loved being around you.” The song began to fade out into quiet. “I’ve loved you.”

You said nothing. Instead, you pulled him closer to you and kissed him. His hand squeezed yours as he kissed you back.

“I’ve loved you too Draco.”

[shhh-no-ones-home]

heavy cross to bear* matt Murdock x reader

+++++++++ Request @juniebugg: reader and Matt are in a very serious relationship (could be married) but then when reader actually sees Elektra, whom she already knew about but has never seen because she was "dead," she gets really insecure and tells matt that he deserves better or something and he reassures her. Angst and smut"

hopefully its not too ooc this is my first MM smut so i hope you like! and thanks again for the request!!

* - you asked for smut and that really is all this is lol, little bit of story. 

Song: wasted time by skid row

tag list: @cynic-spirit @juniebugg

+++++++++

i sat at the table sipping coffee and thinking. it was almost nine at night and i knew i should be getting ready for bed but my body wasn't quite ready to move yet. when matt disappeared into our bedroom i figured he'd be changing into daredevil for the millionth time but when he emerged in his pajamas i was a little surprised. and then it hit me. maybe he knew. hell, he always knew.

but maybe it was just that something was off, that i needed him to say it again, to stay with me and make sure i knew. but then there was her. she had showed up out of nowhere and took me off guard more than anything else up until now. one more doubt at the forefront of my mind. that i didnt believe him when he said he loved me despite being married for a year, despite having dated for three before hand, and despite everything he has done to keep me safe. because he loved her first and it felt like the biggest lie ive ever been told. even after a couple days of sitting on it and hoping it would go away. still it was there. in the back of my mind:

"matt i dont know if i can do this anymore."

his head tilted to the side and he looked confused.

"do what?"

he asked almost worried, moving slowly to the table and sitting.

"this, us. i just- you deserve so much more, so much better than- well, than me."

he was quick to scoot his chair closer to my own, his hand coming to rest on mine.

"hey, dont even say that. what would make you think i would want anyone but you?"

now he absolutely sounded worried.

"i saw her matt."

"saw who?"

i shook my head.

"that woman, your ex. you said she was gone."

"elektra?"

he sounded a little broken.

"shes something else ill give her that much. i see why you like her."

he swallowed hard.

"elektra is dead."

i shook my head.

"then why was she here? looking for you. saying your name with such... god i dont even know how to explain it. matthew."

i repeated it exactly as she had said it and it felt wrong. like i was acting. saying someone elses emotions and intentions. they were no longer mine. or at least it seemed like it. There was a long silence and I just stared at him.

"She was here?"

There was hope in his voice and I figured that was it. It made me angrier than it probably should've and my only response was to stand and walk away. I got half way across the living room before he caught my arm.

"Y/n, that doesn't matter. I-"

He swallowed hard and I tried to study his face.

"You mean more to me than anything. Yes I love, loved, her but I married you. I chose you. I want nothing more than to be with you. For better or for worse remember?"

He bargained and I sighed heavily.

"How can I be sure you mean that? What if she comes back? again."

He shook his head, taking both my hands in his and stepping closer to me.

"Let me prove it to you. If she really is back then it doesn't matter. I'm with you, I love you, and I'll always chose you."

I closed my eyes, feeling him get closer and closer until his forehead was against my own.

"We belong together."

He whispered before kissing me gently.

"I only want you."

He kept just as quiet, kissing next to my mouth once, then twice, making his way across my cheek and to my jaw.

"Matt."

I breathed out and he paused. I licked my lips lightly before opening my eyes and looking at him. He really did seem like he meant it. He was trying so hard to keep it together.

"I can't lose you."

He sounded so broken.

"Do it."

He drew his brows and I brought my hand up to touch his face gently. We were still so close I could feel his breath fanning my neck.

"Show me you mean it."

I said softly and his Expression changed.

"I love you so much."

He said before kissing me harshly, releasing my hands and pressing his fingertips into my hips. I hummed against him as he walked us backwards. We stumbled along as he pulled my shirt up, tossing it to the floor.

"Matt."

I moaned, pulling his shirt up next. It was gone in a second and he was back, kissing me and moving quickly to get my pants down. His hands roamed my body just as much as mine roamed his. I traced my fingers slowly up his torso, grazing over his scars before wrapping my arms around his neck. I gasped when he picked me up. There was a soft laugh that escaped him and I was relieved to see him smile even if it was just a second. He knew it would take some convincing and he was right. I needed to know he meant it. That Elektra wasn't gonna be a problem.

"I need you."

He whispered again, laying me gently on the bed and situating himself between my legs.

"I need you to know how much I mean it."

He kissed my jaw slowly, then down my neck and across my collar bone.

"Prove it."

I challenged, my breath hitching in my throat as he ripped my bra open from the front, his lips grazing my nipple before taking it into his mouth. He hummed against me, his finger tips down my torso and into my panties.

"Matt."

I moaned, dropping my head back as he ran his finger up me and against my clit. i closed my eyes, pushing my head back into the bed as he stroked me, kissing his way back up to my exposed neck.

"i love you."

he repeated against the heat of my skin. when he resituated i could feel how hard he was already.

"i need you."

i breathed out, pressing my hips up into him as he continued to finger me.

"matt."

i whined, him removing his hand long enough to pull my panties down. i looked up to him with lust blown eyes, watching him intently as he got rid of his boxers.

"youre still okay with this?"

he asked and i nodded quickly, pulling his face to mine and kissing him deeply.

"please."

i moaned, inhaling deeply before he kissed me again, pushing his hips into mine. my breath caught in my throat as he pushed all the way into me, catching my bottom lip between his teeth as my mouth hung open.

"i wanna hear you."

he said softly.

"feel you."

he moaned against my shoulder, dropping his head to the crook of my neck as he placed his large palm over my heart. it was already banging at my rib cage begging to be let out but i could have swore it did when he started moving. he pulled out of me slowly before slamming back into me and i moaned so loudly i was surprised at myself. and then he did it again and again, getting a good rhythm. it was long, and hard. nothing like our nights prior, even on his worst of days when he's frustrated and in need of release. no this was different. purposeful.

"matt."

i held onto him for dear life, pressing my fingertips into his shoulder blades as he continued to pound into me in long drawn out strokes.

"tell me. tell me what you want."

he grunted out, trying to sound as steady as possible.

"i want you. god i only want you!"

i cried out as he thrusted upward harshly. then he did it again and i saw stars, my mouth falling open as i moaned.

"thats my girl."

he praised, trailing his hand down my torso and pressing his finger in circles against my clit.

"youre almost there."

he coaxed, building me up. i could feel the tightness building, pressing my hips up to meet him as he kept his pace.

"im so close."

i panted, pressing my finger tips harder into his bicep as i gripped onto him.

"do it, do it for me, let go."

he said softly and i snapped. my orgasm racked through my body and my vision went blurry. i was breathing hard as he rode out my high, still chasing his own.

"im almost there."

he said, squeezing his eyes shut. he moved to pull out but i wrapped my legs tightly around his waist.

"y/n?"

he asked surprised and i leaned up to kiss him.

"just do it."

i said, pressing a hard kiss to his neck. he kept going, knuckles going white against the bedsheets as he came in me with a loud groan.

"oh my god."

he panted, slowing his thrusts.

"i love you oh my god."

he said, dropping to his forearms, trying not to put his full weight on top of me. my legs were still wrapped tightly around his torso as we both calmed down.

"i love you too matty."

i said softly, feeling him nuzzle his nose against my neck. it made me giggle a little bit and i could feel him smiling against my skin before kissing it gently.

"you have no idea how relieved i am to hear that. youre the only one for me. always will be."

i sighed softly in content, kissing his forehead and dropping my legs.

"im sorry i doubted you. i just. i need a reminder every once in a while i guess."

he kissed my chest before pulling out of me and dropping to the bed beside me.

"i will give you as many reminders as you need, as long as we both shall live."

he said, taking my hand in his and kissing the back of it.

"thank you matt. thank you for everything. especially knocking some sense into me."

he raised a brow, a half smirk on his face and i immediately wondered what was going through that mind of his.

"after tonight sense might not be the only thing i knocked into you."

i couldnt help but laugh, him matching it as i rolled onto his chest.

"i know you want nothing more than to tell the father we're finally starting that catholic family with lots and lots of beautiful babies but i still have my iud."

he let out a short laugh sigh before i kissed him quickly.

"but that doesnt mean i couldnt be persuaded into getting it taken out."

he raised an intrigued brow.

"oh?"

i laughed lightly.

"ill think about it. right now i just wanna live in this moment with you."

i said the last bit through a yawn, resting my head against his chest and hearing his heartbeat.

"i love you."

he whispered, earning a hum from me as i dozed off.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬4

Warnings: nonconsensual touching, fingering, deceptive behaviour, allusions to abuse.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Note: I haven’t updated in a minute but I got the yen to come back to Arvin so here we go! Also working away at my gif requests which are super fun :)

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The fight echoed in your head as Arvin buttoned up the front of your dress, although a few were missing. He helped you to your feet and you leaned on him heavily, barely able to see ahead of you, let alone support yourself on your shaky legs. You climbed the stairs as your mind passed through a tunnel of shock. You didn’t realise you’d even left the living room until you were lowered onto the bed.

Arvin sat beside you, his hand on your shoulder as he spoke softly. You didn’t understand his words as you turned your face away and tears trickled down your tender cheek. You weren’t sad that Roy was gone, you were embarrassed that another had seen what you let him do to you, and terrified of the nice man with the pistol. 

Was he really so nice? You barely knew him at all and he’d had a gun under your roof. Sure, Roy had a rifle but that was for hunting. You couldn’t say or even try to imagine why Arvin had a handgun.

The lamp clicked off and the end of the chain clinked against the long stem. You laid in the dark, not daring to move, and after hours of dazed disbelief, you dozed off, your back wracked with pain from the tension and awkward position.

You woke with a stiff neck, a swollen face, and a weight in your chest. You sat up slowly and held your forehead as the bed shifted. Arvin dumped an armful of Roy's old flannels into the open suitcase at the foot of the mattress. You blinked and rubbed your eye as you leaned on one arm. You yawned and stretched your shoulders.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"I'll see him today," he said as he pulled open the chest of drawers and grabbed the stained and torn denim from within, "make sure he stays away for good."

"What? Arvin," you bent your legs and crossed your arms over your knees, "he's my husband."

"He didn't act like one," he continued to toss Roy's clothes haphazardly into the bag, "he beat you!" He stopped and put his hands on his hips, "he never talked to you nice and…" he stopped and shook his head and closed the suitcase. He zipped it up with a sigh, "I heard him that first night. I figured, you weren't my wife, I could live with it. Well, I can't. You deserve better than him."

"It's not that easy. I can't just toss him out--"

"No, I did," Arvin insisted, "and I'll keep him out."

"You shouldn’t have done that. Last night. He'll be mad."

"So?" Arvin hauled the bag off the bed and dragged it to the door. The bottom of his shirt moved and revealed the butt of the gun sticking out of the top of his jeans.

"Are you gonna make sure with that?" You asked as you turned your legs over the side of the bed, "you can't just shoot him, you know that, don't you?"

"Of course, but he doesn't know I won't," Arvin looked back at you, "I'm gonna make breakfast then head out… how's your head?"

"Feels like there's a rock in my temple," you groaned and stood, "I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"No one but you, huh?" He challenged, "Look, I won't hurt him, I promise, but I also won't let him hurt you."

You neared him meekly as you hugged yourself, "why?"

"Because you do," he said, "because if you won't save yourself, I will. I have to," he looked down at his scuffed shoes, "I seen too many girls, too many women, hurt in my life. I ain't that old, you know? But I can't stand no more."

You watched him go and listened to him descend the old stairs. You frowned and flinched as you glanced around and caught a glimpse of yourself in the antique oval mirror your mother had left behind all those years ago. You looked as bad as you felt, worse; you couldn't help but be comforted by Arvin's concern, in fact, it felt good to have someone who cared about you.

🚬

It was hard to concentrate that day. Even a chore as simple as the dishes or sweeping the floors took twice as long as usual as your mind strayed to the night before and fears of what was to come.

You tried to convince Arvin to leave the bag there but he wasn’t folding, not like you. You admired him for that, but at the same time it made you squirm. Something had changed. He was no longer the sweet young man staying in your attic, he became the indomitable and angry man waving the gun around as he spoke about killing others without so much as flinching.

You remembered what he said. He’d killed a man before, or was it men? It wasn’t like you had anyone who could or would help you. You doubted Roy would come back even if you wanted him to, and on that front, you just couldn’t be sure. He was your husband and it was improper to put him out but let another man sleep under your roof.

The only woman in town who’d dared divorce her husband was Carmen Dolan and there was no where in town she went where people didn’t whisper about her; at the store, in church, and even on the sidewalks. It didn’t matter that her husband was sneaking around or that he was little better than Roy in his manners. It was a small place and people had too much time to talk.

Well, how many friends did you have there? Noreen couldn’t be called as much and all the girls you knew in school were married and too busy to keep up those old teenage ties. You could bide them at the sewing circles, they never were very nice, and you went to church out of obligation not out of a need for that ridiculous shallow socializing of housewives. Besides, you’d failed at all that, hadn’t you?

Then you began to worry. What if Roy flipped and hurt Arvin? Or Arvin hurt him? The suitcase would hardly be taken with a thanks. If Roy was ashamed enough he might just grumble and ignore the other man for the rest of the day, but if he wasn’t, he might just pick up where they left off last night.

You were hanging out the washing when a faded old Chevrolet drove up the dusty drive. You squinted past the stiff jeans as it steered closer and the engine stopped. Arvin climbed out and jingled the keys as he went around the other side. He took out a paper bag and crossed the yard.

“How was your day?” he asked with a smile.

You stared, dumbfounded. How could he act so… normal?

“Wh--what happened with…” your voice trailed out and you unclipped a pair of his jeans.

“Roy? Oh, he took his things and tucked tail after lunch,” he scoffed, “he didn’t look too good. Probably didn’t feel good neither.”

You nodded and dropped the jeans into the basket and tucked the pegs into your pocket. He crinkled the paper bag and stopped you from reaching to the next pair.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

You shook your head and stepped back so that his hand fell from your arm.

“I know last night was-- hard. I only did what I had to, not anything I wanted to,” his brows drew together, “here.”

He held out the paper bag and you eyed it warily. You chewed your lip and he stepped closer.

“Please, it’s, uh, I want you to have it,” he said, “you deserve it and maybe it is an apology. I went a little far but… I don’t regret it. Roy got what was coming.”

You took the bag and he tucked his hands in his pockets. “You didn’t have to get me nothing,” you said.

“Like I said, I wanted to. You do all the hard work here,” he replied, “and I’ll finish this up.”

He reached up and took down the next pair of pants and put them in the basket with the rest. He moved down the line as you watched him, the bag under your arm. You didn’t move, just watched. You looked over at the Chevrolet and frowned.

“Where’d you get the car?” you asked.

“Used,” he said as he folded a shirt in half and dropped it into the basket, “they had it down at the shop for a while now and I told the boss to take out installments from my next few checks. He didn’t mind much, he ain’t been able to get rid of it. Some work to be done but--” He lifted the basket and neared you, “you didn’t look yet?”

“Inside,” you said, “I didn’t wanna just leave you out here with all that.”

You nodded to the laundry and he pointed you toward the house. He followed you up onto the porch and through the screen door. He stopped to slip off his shoes and continued on after you into the living room. You put the bag down on the end table and uncurled the top.

You pulled out the large square and held up the record. The man who stared back at you had sparkling blue eyes and black hair. Elvis Presley smiled as if it was all a funny joke.

“There’s more,” he said.

You set down the record against the arm of the couch and reached into the brown bag again. You pulled out the fabric and a finely tailored pink dress in the latest style unfolded before you. You stared as he neared and he took the bag from the table. He revealed the last piece from the bag and set them down on the carpet, a pair of brand new heels.

“Why did you do all this?” you shoved the dress at him, “I can’t accept it.”

“You can,” he stepped back, “and just so you know, I’ll be paying my rent to you direct now.”

He sidled past you and took the album from the couch. He went to the record player and slid the vinyl from the sleeve. He carefully placed it on the player and lined up the pin. He turned back to you and crossed the room. He pulled the dress from your hands and let it slump over the couch cushion.

“Do you know the shimmy? I could show you? It’s the new thing,” he said as he took your hand, “you just move your hips, bend your legs a little, keep your arms out like this.” He moved slowly at first as he drew you into the middle of the room, “just with me, to the rhythm.”

“I can’t,” you protested, “really, I’m not a dancer.”

“Me neither, but it’s fun,” he tugged on your hand, “come on.”

He sang out of tune as he kept his hips moving. You watched him and tried to copy him, hoping to placate him long enough that you could escape to the kitchen. The dress, the album, the dancing, it all felt so wrong.

As the song ended, he brought you close and wrapped you up and slowed down. He swayed you with him as the record kept spinning. His eyes clung to yours.

“He didn’t know what he had,” he said.

“Arvin, I gotta start supper,” you whispered as you pushed on him, “please.”

“I got you the new dress so we could go to the drive-in,” he kept you against him, “Friday night. You like Audrey Hepburn?”

“I… haven’t seen much of her,” you confessed, “Arvin, really, the ham--”

“He’s not coming back,” he released you reluctantly, “I told you. I told him.”

“He’s still my husband,” you crossed your arms and looked down.

“Is he? He never treated you like his wife.”

“It’s the law--”

“Divorce him. You’ll keep the house, it’s yours. Your daddy left it to you.”

“And do what? I can’t afford it on my own--”

“You got me.”

“You won’t stay here forever,” you uttered.

He didn’t say anything and narrowed his eyes. He shrugged and turned away. “You have options and Roy is the wrong one,” he said, “you can’t hate yourself that much.”

You barely heard him and didn’t know how to respond. So you didn’t and left him to Elvis’ soft tones as you went to pull out the honey ham. You still had some of your sweet mustard left in that jar from last year or maybe the apple sauce. It was easier to focus on the food and not the madness of men.

🚬

The nights and days drifted by like sand in a glass. Whenever Arvin was there, even when he was in the attic and you were below, you were painfully aware that it was only the two of you in that big house. You weren’t afraid for yourself really, he hadn’t done anything to you. You should hate Roy for how he’d been to you all those years but you didn’t want to be the reason he got hurt.

But as the time went by, it was also harder to tell Arvin no. You never thought anyone could be overly helpful, especially after Roy’s indifference, but you were overwhelmed by his presence. He was always lurking around when you least expected, watching you, waiting. He always offered to finish the chore or kept you from doing it entirely. You should be thankful but it made you feel more guilty than anything.

When Friday came, you carried on your usual routine. You were mopping when the Chevrolet pulled up. He’d spent the night before with his head under the hood. He said it wasn’t too bad for the price and the repairs were minimal and none so urgent. 

The car door closed then his steps walked up onto the porch. As he entered the house, you hit the mop against the wall and kept your head down, swiping back and forth against the wood. He didn’t dare to step past the threshold and mess your clean floors.

“You should finish up and get ready,” he said.

You looked up at him and feigned ignorance. You hoped all day he would forget about the movie. You didn’t want to wear the dress, it made your wedding ring chafe just to think of it. You focused again on the mop and kept back stepping away from him. 

“Maybe not tonight, Arvin,” you said, “I’m tired.”

“You don’t have to work yourself sick,” he leaned against the doorframe, “really. You can always just take a day and… relax.”

You put the mop in the bucket and rested it against the wall. You took a deep breath but didn’t look at him.

“I don’t think we should go at all.”

He sighed and rubbed his cheek, “Really? Roy hasn’t even tried to come back. Hasn’t even tried to apologise. In all these years, did he ever once say sorry to you for anything?”

“Maybe not but I married him. I made that decision and I have to see it through.”

“Not like that,” he tutted, “besides, it’s just a movie…”

“Just a movie,” you repeated and walked over the drying floor, “alright then.”

He watched you and the thoughts wrinkled on his forehead. He let you go as you grabbed the railing and ascended the stairs. You felt his eyes on you, even after you turned down the hall, as if he could see you through the walls.

“We got time,” he called up, “no rush. It’s not even close to dark but I don’t want you to worry about… all this.”

You didn’t reply and closed the bedroom door. You sat on the end of your bed and clasped your hands. You still felt terribly trapped. You didn’t think so much of what Roy would say, he always said the worst. You thought about your father and how disappointed he would be. You knew he wouldn’t have let Roy treat you so bad if he was still alive, but he would still be sad if he knew how it all worked out.

🚬

You hadn’t been to the drive-in since you were going steady with Roy. It was a singular occasion and an unpleasant one. He got drunk and couldn’t drive home so you had to get behind the wheel and pray you didn’t crash. It wasn’t that you couldn’t drive, you just hated it. Thinking of it then, you should have expected all that came after.

Arvin pulled in as the sky dimmed slowly and he left you to go to concession and grab popcorn. When he returned, he handed you a box of chocolates as he cradled the large paper bag of kernels. You thanked him and opened the box, distracting yourself with the chewy caramels covered in milk chocolate. You offered him some as you looked around and waited for the screen to flash into motion.

There were a few families among the patrons but mostly teenagers, couples and groups, rowdy as they impatiently hollered for the film to roll. You hadn’t heard of this one, Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Arvin said he read about it in the paper and it was supposed to be a flick meant for ladies. He said he didn’t mind as he liked the actors.

When at last it was dark enough, the movie began and you set the box down on the seat and munched on a handful of popcorn out of courtesy. The credits began and you were quickly swept up into the life of Holly Golightly. You were almost agog to think that a woman could live like her. City life seemed so different, so free, so scary. And she didn’t let all those men rule her.

You felt Arvin slide closer to you and his arm snaked around your shoulders. You tensed as you focused on Hepburn’s waifish voice and offkey plucking of the ukulele. You tried to ignore him as you felt his warm breath and the kiss on your temple made you wince. Your eyes flicked over to the car on the other side of you, then the next. The audience was rapt.

His hand grazed along your skirt and he kissed your cheek. Your heart raced wildly. You wanted to stop him but didn’t know how. And he was so sweet and he did so much for you. He’d brought you all the way here and kept Roy from cracking your head open. Could you really say no?

“I know I said it already,” his hand lingered on the pink fabric, “but this looks wonderful on you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered as you kept your wide eyes on the screen.

“Really, you’re beautiful, honey,” he purred as he nuzzled your throat, “living so close… it’s hard…”

He pushed his hand under your skirt and up between your thighs. He wiggled until you parted your legs and grabbed your chin with his other. He turned you to face him and crushed his lips against yours. He leaned on you until you were flat against the seat and he brought your legs up onto the leather as he held himself over you.

He kissed you even deeper as his fingers tickled over the front of your panties and crawled up to the top. He slipped his hand down the front of your underwear and you whimpered. When he touched you, you were afraid but confused. It felt good, better than anything you’d ever done with Roy.

You gulped and turned your head as you gasped. You grabbed his shoulder and shuddered. His fingers delved between your folds and swirled. You murmured and squeezed his arm.

“Please, I’m-- I’m still married, we can’t--”

He nibbled at your neck and blindly reached up to grab your hand. He gripped the ring on your finger and forced it off and flicked it away. It rolled under the seat as he rasped against your throat.

“He’s gone,” his fingers danced around your clit eagerly, “don’t you understand? I’ll make sure he doesn’t come back, honey.”

“Arvin, I--” you squeaked as the waves swelled and flowed down your legs and you were caught in the tide, “please…”

You closed your eyes, your mind stormed with how wrong it was but your body pulsed with delight. He pushed his fingers further back and the heel of his hand pressed to your bud. He curled his fingers inside of your and you moaned as he rested the weight of his pelvis against his hand. He rocked his touch in time with his hips, as if he was fucking you, and kissed you on the mouth again, swallowing up your desperate cries.

Your legs wrapped around his as you came and you tilted your pelvis as you rode the high. He lifted his head to watch you orgasm and your lashes fluttered as you succumbed to the ecstasy. You squirmed as he slowed his fingers and stilled his hand entirely. You were out of breath as he stopped at last but kept his hand nestled between your legs.

You covered your face with your shaky hand and exhaled deeply. He pulled your hand down and rubbed the tip of his nose against yours.

“I’ll buy you a new ring,” he purred, “a nicer one.”

[cherrybyunss]

Ship: Haechan x Reader Word Count: 2k Tags: Smut, Explicit, Oral (M receiving), Masturbation, Dirty Talking

An excerpt from When It Gets Risky: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31129871/chapters/76918949

Excerpts Masterlist

_________

Donghyuck and you had been sexting. And seeing the guy at school the next day was, to say the least, a very amusing experience for you.

He was just as great at acting like nothing had happened as you were, and you had expected that. But you could feel him staring at you on multiple occasions, even checking you out at times. And every time your eyes met, you looked away and smiled to yourself. And every time you had to talk to him about something, you would look him right in the eye with the most innocent pair of eyes you could manage. You were sure it drove him crazy.

And you were proved right as soon as it was time for the lunch break.

Lee Donghyuck Meet me in the library. Now.

You smiled at your phone before getting up from your seat and complying.

You dropped him a text when you reached the library, before turning the knob on the door and pushing it open, slowly, trying to figure out if you got the location right for sure.

But before you managed that much, the door got pulled open from the other side. Your eyes widened a little at the sudden force, but the surprised expression soon turned into a smug one when you saw Donghyuck, looking almost mad, and really sexy.

It didn’t last long though, as Donghyuck grabbed your hand and pulled you inside, closing the door behind you, and not even giving you enough time to gasp before slamming you against it, and his lips against yours.

His kissed you with unparalleled, almost painful heat. It almost made you dizzy how wonderful his lips felt against yours. He was really skillful. The boy managed to find perfect harmony even in a moment of sheer desperation.

Your hands went around and met behind his neck in an attempt to pull him closer, if it was even possible. And he had his placed firmly on your waist.

He lightly bit your lower lip and sucked on it, testing your reaction, pleased at the gasp it drew from your lips, which you could deduce from him slightly smirking against your lips before moving closer, deepening the kiss.

You loved the boldness. And boy was he a great kisser.

You wanted more.

Just as he was starting to move down to leave kisses and marks on your neck, you slowly raised one of your thighs a little, attempting to create a slight friction against the growing bulge in his pants and your unclothed skin.

He gasped as he pulled away a little, and grabbed your thighs, letting you bathe in much pride at his reaction. With your bodies undulated in that one moment, you could tell how turned on he was.

He was breathing heavily, lips red, glistening and swollen. But you guessed that made the two of you. You noticed he had pretty lips. A pretty face overall. Perfectly in contrast with the most lustful pair of eyes you’d ever had staring you down.

Ah yes, this was exactly what you’d wanted.

“Such a fucking troublemaker.”

You smiled. “I must be, you look really troubled right now.” You said and reached up to give him a soft kiss on the lips.

He looked at you for a slight instance, and then lifted you up against the door the next, throwing your legs around his waist and resting his hands firmly under your thighs for support.

You gasped and grabbed his shoulders hastily. It’d caught you off guard. It was so hot, it’d rendered you speechless. All you could do was sigh at the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the bare skin of your thighs, never letting the feeling of butterflies in your stomach fade away.

“Now we’re talking.” He smirked, your reaction feeding his ego perfectly well. He leaned in against your ear. “I couldn’t think of anything but fucking you all day today. Do you know how much of a pain in the neck that is?”

You almost shuddered at the feeling of his breath fanning your skin.

He scoffed. “And you had the audacity to act all innocent, makes me wanna fuckin’ ruin you.”

You felt a massive rush of adrenaline through your veins all throughout your body. You’d never been more thrilled in your life. Maybe you did want him to ruin you.

“Now where were we?” He said as he moved your hair out of the way and dived right into your neck again, almost throwing you over the edge.

His lips felt absolutely heavenly against your neck. You were gripping onto his hair for dear life and had been finding it increasingly difficult to stifle your moans with each passing second, when almost as if he’d taken it as a challenge to get you to make a sound, he decided to latch his mouth onto a particularly sensitive spot and suck on it, letting him draw a moan out of you.

You felt his nails dig deep into your skin. “Fuck,” he whispered against your neck. “You even sound hot– Fuck.”

You struggled to form coherent phrases with the painful, ecstatic sensation, combined with the constant attack your neck was under at the time. “Hyuck, I–” Hearing his name made him breathe out against an already vulnerable spot, making your breath hitch. “Fuck!”

You slapped the back of your hand against your mouth to suppress your voice, making his ego soar even higher. Encouraged, he went on to leave a number of hickeys that you were definitely gonna end up having to cover up for at least a couple weeks.

“Hyuck, you’re so good at this– What the fuck!” You managed to say in the midst of the struggle.

He pulled away after one last dragged out kiss, and stared at the red spots he’d left. And then up at you, finally getting to catch your breath. He found you so hot.

You almost collapsed on his shoulder when he did pull away. And felt his breath hitch at the deep breaths fanning his collarbones.

And his reaction piqued your interest yet again.

He pushed you further against the door, grinding his hard, probably painfully hard, bulge against your clothed core. Your body shuddered at the contact yet again. You could see he was desperate for a release.

“Hey,” you leaned in and whispered against his neck, in the middle of leaving a lot of soft little pecks, and a couple of hickeys. “Let me take care of that for you, yeah?”

Donghyuck looked at your every move as he let go of your thighs and helped you back on your feet. He didn’t miss the way you looked up at him through your lashes as you slid down against the door.

You unbuckled his belt and undid his trousers. You could feel him twitch even at the slightest contact. You could only imagine how painful the clothes restraining his length must’ve been.

You slid the trousers and the boxers down in one swift motion causing his member to spring up, tall and proud.

You glanced at him ones, and on finding him looking at you with eyes hooded with lust, wasted no time taking his member in your hand and giving it a few light strokes.

Donghyuck had to almost slam his hand on the door in haste so as to retain his balance. It was all the encouragement you needed.

You licked up his shaft before taking him in your mouth. You initially swirled your tongue around the head, letting him get a good view of how your lips looked wrapped around his length, and hollowed out your cheeks to create the kind of suction you knew drove guys crazy. Then you slowly let the tip of his length hit the back of your throat, and your hand handle the length you couldn’t fit inside, before starting to pump him, putting pressure and sucking repeatedly every time you moved up his shaft.

“Fuck…!” You knew he was having a hard time not fucking your mouth, only managing to because you were good enough without it. His little moans and the hitching of his breath were the hottest sounds you’d heard in forever.

“Mm-hmm?” You asked for affirmation, without taking him out.

He shuddered. You looked up at him with innocent eyes, and he hated how much that riled him up. “Touch yourself.”

It caught you off guard. His voice sounded too authoritative, provided his circumstance at the time. It was hot. And who were you to not comply?

So you did. You dipped your unoccupied hand under your skirt, rubbing your clothed folds lightly. You realized then how bad this whole fiasco had you dripping. And the realization made you squirm.

You made sure not to get too carried away, for you couldn’t lose your rhythm. But even with that much being taken care of, playing with yourself made you feel like you were gonna see the stars anytime then.

As your moans, that were otherwise getting stifled, got louder, the vibrations Donghyuck felt against his length got increasingly harder for him to handle. You could feel him getting close.

“Fuck–” He managed to exclaim in whispers as he threw his head back. And with one last pump, he bucked his hips and came undone inside your mouth.

He looked and sounded so fucking sexy, you were sure you’d end up retaining a videographic memory of the guy in orgasmic bliss. And you didn’t mind at all.

You waited for him to ride out his orgasm before taking him out and standing back up. You’d made sure to swallow everything right up so as to not make a mess. And you realized he must’ve noticed it when his eyes darted down to your lips for a fraction of a second.

He lightly threw his head back one more time and took a deep breath before letting himself fall forward onto your shoulder, one of his hands still resting on the door, and the other having found its way onto your waist.

“That was the best fucking orgasm I’ve had in my entire life.”

You smiled. It wasn’t the first time someone had told you that after you’d sucked them off. “I’m glad.”

He nuzzled your neck, planting a couple of kisses around your collarbones. You loved the way it felt. But stopped him anyways.

“Let’s get out of here for now.”

Donghyuck looked at you puzzled. “What? But– I didn’t make you come yet?”

“Yeah, but we can always do that some other day.” You said, and studied his reaction. “Right?”

His curious expression soon turned into a small smile. He grabbed your waist and leaned in, and whispered against your lips. “We can do that every single day, baby girl.”

You smiled, resting your hands on his chest. “Good, because I’m honestly satisfied enough for now. But that by no means implies that I’ll be done with you anytime soon.” You said in between Donghyuck peppering your skin with kisses. “I need to know if you’re as good as you look like you’d be.” He smirked at the latter remark.

“You didn’t come, yet you’re satisfied?”

“You underestimate how hot you were.”

Donghyuck scoffed at your cockiness. “Well, all I’ll say is, thanks a lot for this, then. You were beyond amazing.” He said and kissed your forehead following a light peck on the lips. You found it really sweet how affectionate he was. “And next time, I promise I’m not letting you go before I make you come at least thrice.”

You raised an eyebrow, smiling. “That’s ambitious.”

“Trust me,” he said, planting another kiss right under your ear, “It’ll be the best experience of your life.”

You chuckled. You sure hoped it’d be.

“Let’s get out.” Donghyuck said, letting go of you to get a hold of the doorknob.

You placed your hand firmly on top of his before he could turn it. “Hyuck, uh–”

He breathed out. “Now I’m gonna have a whiplash every time you call me that.”

You facepalmed. “Listen!” You poked his forehead. And he feigned pain, earning a shake of head from you. “Don’t tell the others about this, please? I don’t want things to get awkward.”

“Yeah, okay, I won’t.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

He tucked your hair behind your ear and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “Come, let’s go.”

You smiled at the sweet gesture and followed him outside.

"One down, two to go." You remarked to yourself with a small smile.

_________

Read the entire fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31129871/chapters/76918949

Excerpts Masterlist

[just2bubbly]

To Us

Masterlist

TLC Ship Week 2021!

*written for tlcshipweek2021- kaider for the prompt 'Journey of Us'

@kaiderforever

Summary:

"I'm thinking."

"A coin for your thought?"

"Nothing much... just I'm 27 and have this beautiful person seating on top of me, not that I'm complaining-"

"Come to the point Kai, you were definitely not thinking that."

...

The night before their second anniversary is quite extra-ordinary as both of them reflect back on their past. The present that they are living seems unbelievable to the two royals- just the two of them, together. What more can they ask for?

Ship: Kaider

Words: 3k

Genre: Fluff, Sick

Prompt: 'Journey of Us'

__

*Post- Winter

Cinder's Perspective:

"I'm so sorry, Kai," she said as he handed her the bowl of soup.

"No worries darling, it doesn't really bother me-"

"Yeah, but I know you wanted to have some alone time and I just ruined your plans."

"C'mon Cinder- you are more important than my plans. Besides we can go after you have recovered."

"Even then I feel extremely sorry for being under the weather at such a happy moment-"

"Sickness does not come looking at your calendar- wondering if it's the right time to crash on Miss Selene now that she does not have anything planned," he jested.

She glared at him while inhaling the smell of the chicken noodle soup wistfully.

"I'm gonna forget you said that because this soup tastes so good. You have really mastered cooking."

"Thanks- I asked Suho for his recipe, seeing how you liked the one he made when we visited them last month."

"So have anything planned- now that I'm going to be staying in the bed for at least two more days?" she questioned.

"Well- No?"

"No?" she mimicked, surprised at his answer. She had assumed he might have come up with some different sort of elaborate plans for the day.

"Like there is not really much I can do with you being sick that will qualify as classy and romantic... you know that right?"

"You don't have to."

"I'm going to!"

The thing they happened to be talking about was their second anniversary. Kai had wanted to go to a nice cottage home that his mother had brought on Wusong Island in Jilin. Cinder knocked off all his plans with the unwanted and very bad timings of the flu she had caught. hence they or rather she was forced to stay in bed for an entirety of 5 days?!- well the doctor had told 3 but her very sensitive and caring husband made it 5.

Her husband observed her as she drank the soup, feeling slightly awkward at the sudden attention she barked, "What?"

"Nothing- just staring at my beautiful wife!"

"Don't- it's making me self-conscious, for a minute I thought I was drinking it wrong or something and you were going to yell at me for not holding my spoon properly. And Kai, stop calling me beautiful when I have a runny nose, that's too sore and pink from all the tissues I am blowing into and I feel like I'm wearing rags right now," she said pointing out to her loose grey t-shirt and shorts, that were quite old with its colour faded still they were comfortable and that's what mattered.

"You always look beautiful to me!"

She smiled and asked, "What do you want?"

"Can't I just call you stunning babe?"

"Oh, and won't you be honest with your beautiful wife?"

He sighed and asked, "Can't I join you?"

She wished he would but instead settled for a bittersweet smile and said, "Kai you won't want to catch the flu. Believe me, you don't want your one nasal cavity feeling like a desert and the other one like a shitty waterfall!"

Kai had been adamant about cuddling while she was sick- she did not want him to catch her sickness. Hell, she would have actually made him sleep on the adjacent very large couch in their room if he would have not been half as stubborn as her. Alas, he would not budge and they had settled for some distance between them for Kai's well being.

"Please," he said in an annoyingly cute way, pouting his lips and crinkling those damn beautiful eyes of his to make an impact.

She was not going to budge to his antics- after all, she was supposed to look after him when he decided to make dumb desires.

"Only if you take the couch to sleep today," she argued.

"Cinder didn't we already talk about this?! I'm not taking the couch even if it's too comfortable and for my own good!"

"Don't tell me, I did not warn you, when you get sick," she said and patted the space near her, keeping the bowl aside while scooting away to make space for him.

He jumped at the offer and settled close to her as she leaned against his chest.

"Hmm... I missed you," he mumbled as he pressed his chin on her head, his words filling the comfortable silence.

"You are not really sad that I'm sick, are you, Kai?"

"I'm not, Cinder- it would not matter if I spend our anniversary on a beach, a cottage or in bed as long as you are there beside me- even if you are sick," he said reassuringly.

"Okay,' she replied.

He drew circles on her back and she reclined into him until she was more or less practically into his lap- all thoughts of making him sick with contact forgotten.

She had almost dozed off when he muttered quietly," Torin said we could have a week off if you wanted."

"Oh? and are you- are we?"

"I dunno, it's not every day that I can take a day or two off and it's pretty chill right now- not much work so I'm thinking about it."

"Maybe we should," she suggested, already knowing that they would be taking a holiday soon.

"Maybe."

They remained silent, just enjoying each other's presence and the quiet around them, the beats of their heart providing a soothing sound as they beat together. She would have been more than happy to sleep like that- in Kai's arms with the rhythm of their hearts as music to her ears.

"I'm thinking," he whispered his lips near her ear.

"A coin for your thought?"

"Nothing much... just I'm 27 and have this beautiful person seating on top of me, not that I'm complaining-"

"Come to the point Kai, you were definitely not thinking that," she challenged.

"Well,- yeah you caught me there- just I'm so happy in this moment. I married the love of my life and 10 years ago, I would have never thought that I would end up where I am right now."

Thinking over his words, she responded, "Well you would not be the only one now there now, would you?"

"Yeah- at 18 I had as good as convinced myself that I would not see myself grow to become 19- probably be killed by Levana before that-"

"Who knows maybe she would have loved you and vice versa," She joked, having come to terms with the horrors of her past by now.

"Yeah, weren't you just jealous of my wife, Cinder?- killing her like that."

"Oh! No Kai, I fought for you and came out as the winner," she jabbered with a wink.

"Quite a prize I'm, now aren't I?" he boasted, winking in response.

"Stop sounding like Thorne- besides, stop using sarcasm to just avoid talking about your feelings," she said, clearly forgetting what had started the mild flirting.

"Like you don't," he muttered under his breath.

Taking quite his chances trying to figure out if she had forgotten or not-

"Kai, continue," she ordered.

"There's nothing serious- just got me riled over a silly thought, that's all!" he said, avoiding to speak.

"Talk," she ordered before he could make any excuse.

Sighing he said, "Back when I was 9, I had always thought that I would have a wife that loved me like Mum loved Dad, but I was too simple back then. Later I quite got the hang that I would be the Emperor and... you know right, how marriages are looked upon as alliances in royalty?- so, maybe I thought- I would not know what love is, like what it really means. Levana just happened to come around the time when I had wholly convinced myself that I would never marry out of love- just some woman who was the daughter of some important person to strengthen bonds or something like that. And at the same time you decided to pop in my life- well I popped in yours but after a few days I had certainly started liking you, sort of even had a crush on you while you were on the run but things happened and well you know what happens later.. " he trailed.

"You did marry someone important Kai, remember I am the ex-Queen of Luna?" she said, turning around to look at him.

"How can I forget? have got quite a knack for Queens," he said, a grin breaking on his face however it did not reach up to his eyes.

"Yeah- even then you love me and I do love you! Although you had to marry someone before- you supposed to make the right choices later, you found love with me, I was quite a big show myself- a simple mechanic and then I come out as the long lost princess of Luna. I am happy- elated for where I am right now-minus the sick part but I think I can endure it," she admitted.

"I see, my happy outlook has quite rubbed on you - I don't want to change anything even if I could- I'm so fortunate to be here with you," he exclaimed, caressing the back of her hand with his thumbs.

"You know if someone had told me when I was 15 that someone would love me when I grow older, I would have called them a fool and probably shut my door on their face. If they had told me that I would be married to a kind man at 23, found true love at 16- I would have yelled at them to make young girls fantasize about something like marriage when there were important things in life. If they had told me that I would marry a man who loved me, much less an Emperor- I would have been shocked for the love of my life. No pun intended so don't point it out or grin- " he did grin even when she asked him not to "-Can't believe I'm really married to you even at the age of 25- like you are believable but the whole Emperor of EC is a too big thing for me who felt unlovable till 16- like hell with the world but I had thought I would probably be those single cat ladies just without the cats- I think they are nasty. Yet here I am!" She rambled, declaring the last part with a blinding smile.

"Quite unbelievable, ain't it?

"Yup- wouldn't change a thing though!"

"If I asked you-

"to marry you again then I would say yes without a moment to lose," she continued.

She did not know who rushed in first but his lips were on her and he whispered 'Good' against her lips, kissing them fervently. Before thinking she moved, making Kai groan at the loss of sudden contact, taking as many tissues that could fit in her hands from the tabletop, she blew her nose, feeling sickening.

Kai looking at his wife firstly in a bizarre way followed by a sympathetic smile, "Maybe we should keep kissing to the minimum."

"Yeah- I look gross," she agreed.

"Do you want to take some steam?"

"No- I'm okay," she answered, continuing to blow her nose which considerably contradicted her sentence.

"Tell me if you change your mind."

"Can you pass me more tissue?"

Having cleared her nose long enough to go without a blowing nose fit for at least a few minutes she whined, "My nose hurts- is it pink?"

"Really Cinder?- are you caring about your slightly pink nose right now instead of your health? I think it looks cute tho-"

"You had called me cute even when I was drenched in mud. Sorry for blowing up like that!"

He chuckled adding, "Quite got me confused for a minute there"

"I can't believe I'm sick on our anniversary-"

"Hey! I was sick on my birthday, don't beat yourself on that."

"C'mon aren't you even a tiny bit sad Kai- you make it sound like you are happy seeing me sick in bed!" she complained.

"I had be happy with you in bed, don't you think?" he said with a smirk tugging at his lips.

"I don't wanna sneeze and blow my nose on you so, NO!-" she replied. "-I don't think I have the energy to do anything."

"You had your meds?" he inquired.

"Yes," she said avoiding his gaze.

"And when did you take them?"

"Well- one is remaining- it's really bitter, can't I just skip it? Please!" she pleaded.

Paying no heed to her words, he just leapt out of the bed to fetch the said tablet- returning with the red and white capsule that was going to cause Cinder much misery.

"Here," he said, offering the glass of water.

"Please, Kai, it's so bitter and I don't want to spoil the taste of the soup-"

"Cinder, I'm not going to budge- you are having it. Personally, it's not that bad, you drilled Camilla into being nice for a day last week- you can handle a bitter tablet."

She stared at him not moving to pick the capsule from his hand, he stared back. It was a healthy competition, the one who blinks first will lose-

"Achoo- chu-" she sneezed rather unexpectedly making Kai victorious.

"I hate you," she mumbled glaring at him as she took the med- sticking her tongue out to him as the harsh taste of medicine could be felt down her throat.

"Love you too, Cinder."

"I was not even half as troublesome as you are right now when you were down with that stomach bug 6 months ago- I even allowed you to read those documents in bed and this is how you repay me for my kindness?"

"I repay in kindness- Come here, you can have the cuddles as your reward."

This time she kept some tissues nearby just in case and as revenge kept her very cold hand on Kai's bare torso. It did not look like it bothered him- he just snuggled closer to her, making sure that her hand was as much on her as on him.

"I can't believe it's already been two years since we married!" she blurted out.

"True."

"Quite hard to digest even after 2 years of marriage!- Sometimes my heart can't handle the sight of you in the morning- so peaceful and lovely," he declared.

"And you look so good at night when you scrunch your nose yawning- you look so adorable with those puppy eyes you make!" she added.

"Remember that time when Torin had almost found us hiding in the library trying to skip the staff maintenance meeting?" he asked.

"It was not much hiding, Kai- like he could have tracked us within seconds if he wanted to... I think he was hiding as well," she replied, remembering how Torin had spent so long trying to find them in the library even when they were loud enough to be found by anyone.

"Yeah, and when he did that toast for you after you had check-mated Camilla at her own games, I can't forget how proud he looked of you."

"Well, you had helped and I did not do much if you would not have been there to-"

""Oh, don't flatter me! It was you who stole the whole show that day. Vargas was so happy someone had skived Camilla after all these years," He chuckled and continued to add, "Stars, the toast that Thorne made-"

"No, Kai! I don't wanna remember it- I'm so happy he would not be teasing me tomorrow, I'm gonna use the 'sick' card if he embarrasses me like that again."

"He was so funny-"

"That humour traumatized me for life!"

"Well, he outdid himself that one time."

Recalling her friend's more than bizarre speech at their wedding she smiled fondly, her gaze falling on the large clock in their bedroom.

"Kai it's almost 12," she pointed out.

"Oh! yeah- quite late, uhm- er-early?" he sputtered.

"It's our anniversary!" she exclaimed with joy.

"Do you think we can make a toast? like is it okay for you to have wine?" he questioned for her approval and well-being.

"I don't think a glass of wine will worsen my flu, so why not?"

"Okay, I will fetch it before it the clock strikes 12," he said, already moving out to get the bottle of red wine they had stashed somewhere in the adjacent kitchen they had made in their chambers since they had been engaged. Cinder did not really like going to the Palace's kitchen every time she had a strong craving for some midnight snacks. Besides it was too far from their and Cinder was not really very happy about that- she liked cooking, scratch that- she liked seeing Kai cook and eat the delicacies he made.

Kai walked few minutes before it was midnight, trying to balance the two glasses and the bottle.

"Here let me help," she said, taking the bottle from his hand, uncorking it while he held the glasses for her to pour into. Having poured both their glasses to an acceptable amount, they turned to the clock waiting in anticipation for the final hour of the day to end.

"Wanna say something?"

7.6.

"Not yet!"

4.3

And as the digits changed to zeroes, they looked at each other and said, "Here's to the two years of marriage and togetherness-"

"- and many more that will come!"

"To my charming husband,"

"To my loving wife,"

The clink of the glass was unheard over their words.

"To us!"

__

A/N: I think you deserve fluff after the torture that I gave you! Here's nice married Kaider fluff for you guys.

The person named 'Suho' is none other than Torin's husband and I like to imagine Kai cooking and doing all sort of domestic stuff, even when he is the Emperor. This fic had wholesome amount of fluff, and sickness in it. I have really written so many shots this week- have been quite productive this month thanks to Ship Week.

Be sure to comment and vote!

Taglist: @cinderswrench @gingerale2017 @linhcinder686 @shellyseashell @ladyvesuvia @shelbylmkaider @levanariddle @cindersassasin @kaider-is-my-otp (Tell me if you wanna be added/removed)

[sleephyjhs]

You Sing Lullabies to your Baby (REACTION)

all members are included under the ‘keep reading’ link

notes: this genuinely has taken me so long and i am so so sorry. when it comes to parent aus i really like to take my time since they’re my favourite, i hope it’s okay!!

m.list | requested

KSJ

Your prolonged absence from the downstairs loveseat caught Seokjin’s attention. The baby monitor had alerted you of your newborn’s disturbed sleeping, but the lack of commotion from upstairs interested him. After pausing the animation film he was determined to finish with you, he traipsed carefully for the stairs so not to further disturb your son.

His fingertips scarcely skimmed the corridor walls as he tiptoed towards the nursery. Through your newfound maternal panic, the panelled door had been left slightly ajar in the rush to attend to your baby; the small opening allowed just the right amount of view to see what had distracted you for so long.

The nursery itself was dark, illuminated only by pastel nightlights that so often fascinated his son’s brown doe eyes. Sleeping in the dark throughout the night was a trait you collectively were glad he’d inherited; tonight was perhaps the first glitch in his habits since birth. Facing away from the opened door was your nursing chair, where you’d positioned your now sleeping son across a flimsy pillow over your lap. His audible muttering was slowly washed away by the sound of your voice, humming a slow lullaby to soothe him.

“And if that mockingbird don’t sing, mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring~” Seokjin’s eyelids fluttered softly in time with the rhythm of your lullaby. You’d previously claimed to sing your baby to sleep when he wasn’t around, and now he had finally caught you.

Instead of feeling the need to interfere, Seokjin stood away from the light and listened to your lullaby repeat again and again until it was time to transfer your son back to his cot. To avoid being caught by you, he hurriedly hopped back down the stairs and resumed his seat in the couch. His private concert would remain his little secret.

MYG

Finishing rehearsals any earlier than midnight had recently become a foreign memory for Yoongi; coming home to a sleeping wife and baby was too painfully familiar. Finally, the rare occasion of an early clock-out had come around. Your newborn’s night routine was one Yoongi frequently missed, so the new opportunity was nothing short of refreshing.

Despite receiving a text saying to expect your husband home earlier than usual, the closing click of the front door was inaudible from your daughter’s nursery. Yoongi dumped his bag on the chair in his home studio and silently proceeded up the stairs.

His light stepping was a habit that had once caused you many frights, but at least your endless efforts to soothe your wailing daughter wouldn’t be reversed. The dim corridor light hardly caused Yoongi’s shadow to cast on the pale carpet of the nursery as he leaned against the doorframe, allured by the soft melody of your humming.

“Round and round the garden like a teddy bear~” Within seconds of listening to your repeating rhyme, Yoongi smiled brightly to himself. Within a matter of minutes, your exhaustion was more than apparent to him.

Yoongi pushed the door slowly to reveal himself to you as you gently placed your daughter back into her crib. Sighing as she finally appeared sound asleep, he held his arms open to you. A hug was nothing short of what you needed.

JHS

Knowing how well you enjoyed laying in on weekends, waking up to a groggy husband, your absence was nothing short of concerning. The warm imprint of your body still staining the bedsheets - you hadn’t been gone for long. Hoseok raised himself slowly, rubbing his eyes in disapproval of the morning sun. His first challenge of the day? Locating you.

Although he shuffled down the corridor still stiffened by the earliness of your escape, you were oblivious to his looming presence. Less than 10 minutes ago, your daughter decided to raise the heavens with her irritant screams. She was only just adjusting to a room of her own; being out of reaching distance from you was proving to be distressing for her, and of course, you.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey~” The soft, motherly hymns attracted Hobi towards the door of the freshly decorated nursery, where you stood rocking the tiny infant in your arms back to sleep. He leaned against the doorframe quietly, still struggling to open his eyes fully. Subconsciously, his head swayed from side to side in chime with the repeating melody, immersing him fully in your morning serenade.

Realising how tired he was, Hoseok figured singing lullabies so early in the morning could’ve been enough to send you drowsy all over again. Before his eyes could close completely on his two main girls, he traipsed slowly down the stairs in order to prepare you a well-earned homemade breakfast.

KNJ

As much as you both we’re almost always left exhausted from your busy schedules, if the only time you had together was past midnight then Namjoon would do what he could to make it work for you. Watching a movie at 2am was a risky move - balancing the volume to not disturb your dozing twin boys was hard work.

Just when you thought you’d worked it out, the chorus of agitated cries roared through the baby monitor, “No you stay here, eat.” You convinced Namjoon before he could even place his bowl of food on the coffee table.

Long after finishing his overdue dinner and still no sign of you, Namjoon paused the now-concluding film and crept through the silence towards the nursery where his baby boys had generated a now dwindling raucous. He couldn’t help but feel guilty about agreeing to stay put; one noisy baby was enough for anybody to handle, let alone a carbon copy.

Before he could barge through the door to aid the process, Namjoon paused in the corridor at the breaking of the silence. A small, cloud nightlight illuminated the cosy nursery that homed his boys and projected it’s yellow glow onto you. With a sleepy baby in each arm, you rocked back and forth in the pillowed nursing chair, “I’m sometimes up and sometimes down, coming for to carry me home.”

Maybe you had it all under wraps after all..

PJM

You’d anticipated Jimin’s return from tour for nearly a month, and were over the moon to finally be able to snuggle with your love once again. The daily facetimes were nowhere near as good as the real thing.

Although, the advantage was your new capability to lie. With your forced smile and optional mute button, you were hoping that Jimin never took a moment to suspect things weren’t as perfect as you so convinced him. Admitting your struggles would only guilt trip him into coming home briefly when he could, which was more stress he could’ve done without.

Your daughter could sense her father’s absence, and proved to you that she missed him more than you did. Never before had you had so many sleepless nights. Your mind was packed to the brim with lullabies from all over the world; it was all that worked in getting her to sleep anymore. Instead of preparing for Jimin’s return, her restless sleep pattern drew you back to her room, singing the same lullaby she’d heard nearly a hundred times before.

As you chanted the sleepy serenade to your disturbed, Jimin snuck through the front door unheard. His arrival was far earlier than you’d expected, but your seeet vocal tones whistling down the staircase was a great enough gift for him.

“Wherever you go, no matter where you are, I will never be far away.” Jimin followed the humming trail up the stairs to greet his two girls one again. The sight of you slowly rocking a now dozing daughter was enough to curl his tired eyes into smiling crescents. Certainly, arriving home early was worth the lost hours of rest.

KTH

Following the few, short hours after her birth, you’d finally stumbled across your first obstacle of thousands to come; a sleepless night. Fair enough, being born is a decently traumatic, turbulent experience, and so your daughter was hardly to blame for her discomfort in a foreign place.

The drugs and pain reliefs that were being pumped into you mare you similarly unable to sleep. Taehyung, however, had been long gone since the sunset; supporting you through childbirth was more exhausting than he’d expected. You couldn’t blame him though, he was nothing short of amazing.

Getting in some practice alone was rather ideal for you. A watching crowd would’ve been daunting for any new mother. Lifting your precious newborn from the plastic bassinet, you flicked through the few memorised songs that were within reach of your limited memory.

Just as you conducted your first lullaby of the night, Taehyung suddenly awoke to the distress of his baby. The chair he’d fallen asleep in was far from comfortable, but any surface would’ve done the job. Instead of sitting upright to attend, he waited for a while, fully aware of how long you’d anticipated singing to your precious daughter.

“Sheep safely home have come, bumble bees no longer hum.” Smiling to himself as your gentle voice soothed both your daughter and him down into a snooze, Taehyung took the secret encounter as a chance to further adore you. Interrupting your first bonding moment with your newborn wasn’t on his list of options; Taehyung was more than content to listen to you embrace motherhood as he was certain you would.

JJK

Despite believing your son was well and truly asleep, the inevitable sobbing rattled through the baby monitor eventually. Having time alone with Jungkook was a rarity, but the disruption via your son was hardly repulsed. In fact, you often had to fight for the right to be the one to calm him down.

With it being so late, and him having hardly slept during the day, you knew well that your son was only overtired. Although Jungkook was by far better skilled in the vocal department, sometimes a mother’s lullaby can be all a baby needed. You allowed Jungkook to continue the anime episode without you - it shouldn’t take you so long this time.

Even a few minutes was enough to miss your presence. To grab one last glance of his tiny son for the night, Jungkook soon followed your footsteps to the pale grey nursery you rocked your baby so gently in, “Golden slumber kiss your eyes, smiles await you when you rise.”

Despite your vocal capability having no leverage on that of your husband’s, Jungkook still enjoyed listening to you. Something about your sweet voice that was hypnotising; drowsy in itself. Instead of storming the brief bonding session, Jungkook awaited you in the hall, grinning widely to himself in the corridor. You were beyond precious.

^ i really dont know why i use the namjoon and his twins starter so much but here we are

[makebank]

party foul

summary: you stir up trouble in disguise. @bricksatanakinswindow​ writing challenge!! 

jj maybank x reader

warnings: drinking, cussing, its a party folks

word count: 850 

a/n: sorry my third halloween fic will not be so flirtatious omg.

You giddily enter the chaotic house party. You scan the room taking inventory of all the teens taking shots, making out, and taking selfies. The music hit your eardrums from a block away, but was now at overload.

You had been longing for this night, ready to bust out your new costume. You were going for a fun yet flirty look. This year you were going as spider-man, which may have had something to do with your obsession with Tom Holland. The costume was kinked a little to be a smidge more provocative. You wore a simple eye mask in replacement of the full face. The legs were cut off short to display your voluptuous curves. You weren’t going to lie, it was a tad short, but all the better. The spandex material hugged your body, leaving little to the imagination. 

You’re out for the kill tonight and may have just found your next prey. JJ Maybank. The blond surfer whose allure was always on full blast drew in the masses with ease. It was comparable to watching a siren sound their seductive melody. To your dismay, he refused to be associated with any kook. His untouchable facade made him all the more desirable. 

Only ever admiring him from afar, he wasn’t too familiar with you except by word of mouth. Your mask may not have covered much, but you were hopeful it was enough to do the trick. You greet a few friends as you strut across the large figure 8 mansion headed to your target. 

You slip into the island barstool next to him while he nurses a beer. You give him a quick up and down to bait him and then start pouring your mixer. He immediately takes notice of your skimpy attire and finishes up his previous conversation quickly to focus his attention on you. 

You ignore his staring waiting for him to make the first move. This is too easy you reason.

“Hey. I’m JJ,” he introduces with a cocky smirk. You fake uninterest for a moment before being unable to help yourself. “Nice costume, star lord.” You snort at the irony of you both being a marvel character. It seems as if he put effort into it though, not missing a detail. 

“You actually know who I’m supposed to be? Finally. I’ve been explaining it all night,” he dramatically whines. You chuckle at his innocence for a moment. “Of course I know who you are. How could you not? You even got the t-shirt and necklace right.” He appears genuinely satisfied by your compliment. Keeping the ball rolling you start to tease him, “But where’s your groot?” “I tried to get my friend Pope to, but he refused. Something about the sith.” You shake your head knowing you had more in common with the nerdy pogues than your own peers. 

You come to the conclusion that you’re done with the jokes and ready to be serious. You knew what you came for. You down the tequila shot you just poured after already finishing your mixed drink. The liquid courage was all you needed. You slowly lick your lips savoring the last remnants of buzzing flavor left behind letting the alcohol heat you from the inside out. “Maybe I should’ve come as Gamora?” you wink at him suggestively. He slides backwards surprised by your behavior, but also trying to figure out your game. “So, what did you say your name was again?” You edge closer to him until your arm is brushing his. “I didn’t. But does it really matter?” You’re indiscreetly gawking at his plump lips making your desires known. 

He places two fingers on your chin and tilts it upward to him. “I guess not to do this,” he shrugs as he closes the space between you. 

He tastes of bitter beer and spearmint gum, and it sends chills up your spine. You had daydreamed of kissing the feisty boy before but never imagined he’d have a slight softness mixed in with his aggressive rhythm. He slips his tongue into your mouth heightening the taste of him. Lowly he moans at the sensation of you mimicking his actions. Just as the kiss is heading towards a place of passion, not meant for public you pull away. Your slight pants are drowned out by the party roaring around you. 

He quirks a brow at your haste to stop. Your devilish smile takes up your face as you move to remove your face mask. 

“I’m-,” you try to introduce but he’s already jumping out of his seat. “Y/n fucking y/l/n,” he yells over the music with a snarl. 

You feign innocence, “What’s wrong?” His eyebrows shoot up at your audacity. “What’s wrong! I just made out with a kook!” “It’s not my fault you couldn’t tell who I was from a simple mask. It’s not like we talk ever.” He sighs exasperatedly not knowing what else to say.

You smile smugly knowing you accomplished your goal. “Did you like it?” His eyes appear to almost fall out of his head at your salacious words. “What? That’s not even the point.” You huff loudly returning your mask to its place. “Well, when it is the point, find me. Happy Halloween, JJ.” As you saunter off with a swing to your hips, you glance over your shoulder at a stunned and starstruck JJ Maybank. 

jj maybank: @teamnick​

everything: @dpaccione​ @drewswannabegirl​ @outerbanksjjforever​ @diverdcwn​ @sunwardsss @sportygal55​ @rafej-cambanks​ @mdlyncline​ @jjbanks​ @jjbabyouterbanks​

send me an ask/messaged to be added!

[poisonivy7]

raya x namaari // chapter 1: raya’s ex-gf returns

ahh thank you guys for all the love and support for my post!! i really appreciate all the likes and reposts :)

i finally finished the first chapter of the fanfic about the ex gf headcannon -- sorry my writing is a bit rusty, but i hope you guys like it!! i’ll be putting it on my ao3 once they decide to take me off the waitlist, and i’ll update it with another chapter if you guys like the first one. enjoy!!

--

Chapter 1:

It had been a week since the Druun was finally extinguished, the dragons returned, and the people of the five different lands came together to form Kumandra once again.

Raya has been spending the past week reconnecting with her father, making sure only to tell him all the good things she’s experienced in the past six years traveling with Tuk Tuk. They took long walks outside the palace in the evening and enjoyed the peaceful silence between them. Occasionally, they would also go out in the courtyard and practice sparring together. It felt like the good old days for Raya, and she couldn’t have been any happier.

That night, at Heart, there was going to be a festival for all to come and celebrate the era of peace that had come upon the newly reunited Kumandra.

While Raya was waiting for the other leaders to arrive, she decided to take a ride on Sisu through Heart. She smiled as the warm sun hit her face and a group of dragons passed by.

As she looked down, she noticed some of the leaders of the different lands arriving by boat. One of them was Fang. At the front of the boat was Namaari. Raya smiled. She was glad that they had finally regained their trust in each other. She missed the friend she had met six years ago. However, she was also a bit nervous to see the Fang princess again. She always seemed to get butterflies whenever they were together, even when they had been sparring in Spine or in Fang’s Royal Palace.

Raya returned home and got dressed for the festival. She tried on several outfits and asked Sisu for her professional opinion many times before settling for one both she and Sisu approved of. “Why are you even stressing out about what you’re going to wear for this festival? It’s not even like anyone will care much. They’ll be too busy fawning over how you literally helped save the world,” Sisu said, rolling her eyes.

“I-I just want to dress my best, that’s all.” In reality, Raya was stressing out that Namaari would be there at the festival that night.

Sisu squinted her eyes. “Really? You sure it’s not to…impress a certain someone?” she asked, winking.

Raya chuckled nervously. “W-What? I’m not trying to impress Namaari, I just want to-“ Her eyes widened when she realized her mistake. Sisu never even mentioned Namaari’s name.

“You said it, not me,” Sisu said, laughing. Raya groaned, face-palming. “If you ever need a wing woman, just holler at me, okay?” she added.

Raya rolled her eyes. “Never in a million years,” she replied, playfully throwing a pillow at Sisu.

After Sisu left laughing, Raya looked outside to see Fang approaching the entrance of the palace. Seeing Namaari made Raya’s throat go dry and sent butterflies in her stomach. The Fang princess was so beautiful with her hairdo and fresh, white outfit. Raya sighed. As much as she hated to admit it, she’s had a crush on Namaari since they first met six years ago, which has only gotten stronger since. However, she figured that there was no way that the Fang princess would ever like her back.

The festival officially began an hour later. Little kids came running in to hug Raya. “Thank you for saving my Ma and Pa,” a little boy said, a big smile on his face.

Raya smiled. “Of course, buddy,” she said, kneeling to his level. She continued interacting with the other kids who were eager to see her. While part of her definitely enjoyed being with the kids, another part of her wanted to distract herself from the fact that she was freaking out that Namaari was in the same room as her.

While Raya was spending time with the kids, Namaari was off in some corner of the room, intently watching Raya. Namaari wasn’t one for parties. Honestly, if her mother hadn’t forced her to go, she would’ve chosen to camp out in the woods because that was the life she was used to living for the past six years.

After a few minutes, Namaari began feeling especially claustrophobic about the increasing amount of people coming in. She decided to sneak out of the room and go down a flight of stairs, finally reaching the balcony to get some fresh air. She had hoped she successfully left without her mother noticing.

Looking over the balcony, she saw the beautiful greenery and the lake. A few dragons were playing with the kids, and more people were entering the palace, eager to meet Raya. Raya. Namaari didn’t know how to explain it, but she got butterflies in her stomach whenever she was with Raya or just thinking about her. She’s never felt like that about anyone else, but it was different with Raya. It always has been different with her. And as much as Namaari was confused about her feelings towards the Heart princess, she knew that she could never be with her. She had betrayed Raya’s trust time and time again; she didn’t deserve her. And anyway, Namaari figured there was no way Raya felt whatever weird feelings she was feeling.

Back in the room, Raya noticed that Namaari was now gone. “Raya! Raya!” a few kids shouted excitedly, running over to her.

“Sorry, kids, I’ll be right back, I promise,” Raya said, getting up. She felt bad as she heard the kids sighing disappointedly, but she needed to find Namaari again. After searching throughout the palace for a while, she finally found Namaari leaning over the balcony. Raya’s heart started beating faster as she came closer to the Fang princess. She was so beautiful, and Raya couldn’t stop staring at Namaari’s strong back muscles.

“It’s beautiful outside tonight, isn’t it?” Raya asked softly from behind Namaari, walking over and standing next to her. Turning to face Raya, Namaari nodded, smiling softly.

“You okay?” Raya asked, noting the quiet, sad look on Namaari’s face. No one had ever asked her about how she was feeling these past few days.

Namaari nodded. “Yeah…it’s just that so much has changed now.”

“Come with me,” Raya replied, gently grabbing Namaari’s arm and leading her to a wooded area a few blocks away from the palace.

“What are we doing here?” Namaari asked, looking around in the woods for any sign of what Raya could have been up to. As Namaari was looking up at the trees and the bright full moon in the sky, she heard Raya drawing out her sword.

“I challenge you to a rematch,” Raya declared confidently with a big grin on her face. The only way she knew how to cheer Namaari up was to have a duel with her.

The princess of Fang smirked. “Okay, but you’re going to lose, dep la.” She drew out her dual swords and stood at a fighting stance across from Raya. They began to clash head-on, each one delivering strong blows. They soon got into a graceful rhythm, and unlike in the past, there were no bloodthirsty, angry feelings from either Raya or Namaari. This time, they were fighting as friends who were finally able to trust one another.

Namaari eventually managed to flick Raya’s sword out of her hand and advanced, ready to pin her opponent down with her dual swords. Just as she was about to do so, she suddenly dropped her swords as a wave of bad memories and guilt came over her. Seeing Raya lying on the ground defenseless gave Namaari flashbacks to when they had fought back in Spine.

Tears filled Namaari’s eyes as she stepped back. “I-I’m so sorry, Raya. I’ve hurt you so much over the past six years. I-“

Raya got up, shaking her head. “I forgive you, you know?” she said softly.

Namaari shook her head. “How can you forgive me, after everything I’ve put you and the world through?” she asked, her voice breaking.

Raya smiled, slowly stepping closer and closer to Namaari until they were only a few inches apart. “Because I know you’ve changed. You’re a better person now; I know it. I mean, you literally helped save the world, dep la.” Raya looked into the Fang princess’ eyes and wiped the tears off her face. Being so close to Raya made Namaari’s heart beat out of her chest. It was at that moment that she realized that all she wanted was Raya.

As their faces were slowly and awkwardly getting closer, Namaari and Raya heard someone behind them ask, “Raya, is that you?”

Raya pulled away and turned around, smiling at who she saw. “Minh?”

They ran into a tight, joyous embrace, both crying of happiness and relief. “I’ve missed you so much, Raya.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Raya replied. Minh proceeded to pull the Heart princess into a passionate kiss.

Namaari was watching the whole encounter. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. She snuck out and continued to run deeper and deeper into the forest until her legs finally gave in. She stopped at a tree, panting, and sunk down, putting her knees up to her chest and resting her face in her hands. She shut her eyes tight, and as much as she fought it, she finally let herself cry. Just like that, an ex-girlfriend came back into Raya’s life, making Namaari lose the one person she’s wanted — no, needed — since what seemed like forever.

[djmarinizelablog]

hi! read your last ask and you said that you took up creative writing classes so you might have a wider knowledge about this but i was wondering when u mentioned different writing styles (like minimalistic, hightened imagery, linear vilennete and all of that) could you maybe explain the difference and what they really mean and maybe examples in our own levihan nation and writers? this might be asking for too much but i was pretty lost and i'd like to know more about all that. however you are def free to ignore this too!

Did you just ask me to write a comprehensive poetics essay, Anon? (I love writing about writing lmao)

Super long post ahead, and I’ll be citing certain fanfics that I’ve read so far and those that I think somehow exemplifies all the different writing styles I mentioned in the previous post. 

First off, the ones I listed beforehand (minimalistic prose, heightened imagery, poetic language, linear narrative, non-linear vignettes) aren’t the only types of writing styles. There are more if you consider the variations of tone (humor/comedy, sentimental, macabre, noir etc), narration/perspective (first person, second person, third person omniscient/limited), and language (dialogue-heavy or action/scene-driven). And the nice thing is that you can actually use of one or two of them in your work---or all of them, if you’re feeling bold. 

As Hange always loves to do: “Let’s experiment!”

--------

I’ll start with minimalistic prose. It is what it is: short, clear, and concise. Think less is more. You have an economy with words where you disregard most adverbs and focus more on the context to make way for meaning, thus allowing the readers to create their own interpretations of your writing. I think the method here is to write your intended draft first, and then cut the unnecessary words to flesh out the scene even more.

Notice how @stereobone wrote this paragraph of Black Dog (an Eruri fic):

Isabel's voice wakes him, brother, brother, has him sitting upright in bed and grabbing for the knife under his mattress. He braces himself for the attack before he realizes there isn't one. There is nothing in the darkness but him and his heavy, panicked breathing. Levi's heart feels like it's trying to beat its way out of his chest. He drops the knife on the mattress and shuts his eyes and tries not to think about Farlan's bloody resigned face before he was eaten. He tries not to think about how he left them. How it's his fault.

It’s very simplistic in language; the paragraph lets you focus on Levi’s innermost thoughts while he deals with an external action (ie, having nightmares). The author hasn’t unraveled the rest of the plot yet, but you already know where the tension is coming from.

Next is heightened imagery. If you’re familiar with the different figures of speech (metaphor, simile, personification, hyperbole, etc), then this is where they all come into play. I think the challenge here is being able to balance it well with the text itself and make sure that the imagery actually clarifies the context of the paragraph instead of convoluting the intended meaning. 

Here’s an excerpt from A Dangerous Game by just_quintessentially_me:

Hanji watched Levi, standing there, head bent and bloodied handkerchief pressed against his arm, and was reminded, irrationally, of a night years ago. When her parents had taken her to the circus. [. . . .] Holding her parent’s hands, she’d gaped, head craned back as she watched the spectacle, a cacophonous mixture of sound and color. At the center of it all, she’d spied a boy. Among the twisting colors and tricks, he alone, was still. [. . . .] The boy was high above, balancing on a platform atop a long pole. In front of him, stretched an audaciously thin rope. Below, no net waited to catch him.

[. . . .]

When Levi looked up, his expression was set - like the boy before the tightrope. And she knew, with sinking certainty, he was going to take the step. Into thin air.

Gray eyes met her gaze and held it.

“Yeah. I’ll go.”

At the door, Kenny smiled.

See how the powerful imagery of the boy on the tightrope was able to fuel the tension in that moment among Levi, Hange, and Kenny? 

I think poetic language is akin to heightened imagery, except that the former is more focused on the actual language. It’s very lyrical, wherein you can actually hear the lulling song of the sentences in a rhythm. One of my favorite works that does this is Deep sea baby by @smallblip. Here she makes use of various setting and scenery to create this entire atmosphere of Levi and Hange’s relationship:

Hanji knows whatever life they've led, this is her favourite.

The one in which her and Levi see the sea for the first time together.

The one in which she’s the Commander, and him, her Captain. And between them, a river of words left unsaid threatening to break the banks.

One day they must cross the ocean, but today they visit the shores again, without the kids this time. And Levi learns why when he watches her peel at her clothes. Her harness comes off first, then her blouse, then everything else, like a little dance for an audience of one. Levi tries not to stare, but he’s already seen her by candlelight in the dead of the night. And yet she never fails to take his breath away.

She makes her way to where the white foams dredge the past up the shores of the present.

"Come on Levi! The water is warm!" she says, and he hears it like a call to come home- where the heavens collide with the sea.

He takes off his clothes and folds them in a neat pile beside Hanji's mess. He swims out to join her.

It’s hauntingly poetic, the way the author is able to connect the metaphor in “a river of words” to the actual body of water right in front of Levi and Hange. Good poetic language is able to tighten up the texts together while keeping the sentence structure flowing with apt figures of speech.

When it comes to narratives, it only comes down to linear or non-linear. See how @lostcauses-noregrets does her opening statement in Trains (also an Eruri fic):

Levi hates trains. To be fair, Levi hates all forms of public transport, but he reserves a particular loathing for trains. They’re dirty, noisy, smelly and worse, filled with people. People who, heaven forbid, might attempt to speak to Levi, engage him in conversation. Levi’s worst nightmare is being stuck on a train with some friendly fuck who wants to pass the time making small talk. Admittedly it’s not a problem he has to deal with too often, his general fuck off demeanour deters all but the most aggressively friendly and hopelessly inebriated. But that doesn’t stop Levi from hating trains.

It’s a short fic and it’s very dependent on the linearity of events happening. But with that banger of a first sentence, the beginning already gives you enough of an idea of Levi’s pet peeve in the story, which in this case, is trains.

Here’s another hot and steamy fic called keep him waiting by keobuns that shows a linear narrative: 

He’s sitting with them in the back of the lab, nursing a cup of tea — it’s still pretty full, and even cold now, for he was far too distracted listening to Hanji talk to properly drink — when he sees it. Hanji’s too preoccupied with overexplaining the same Titan experiment they’ve gone over a hundred times to notice his stare. They just continue on and on and on, gesturing with their hands, pointing with their fingers, flexing their wrists…

Ah. Levi has to bring his teacup to his lips to hide the way his lips tremble. Hanji has incredibly nice hands.

The entire story just revolves around Levi simping for Hange’s hands and how it all goes down from there. But you as a reader are kept wanting more with every paragraph and every sentence that the author constructs (and trust me, it’s not just the sexual tension between Levi and Hange that keeps us going).

Now, as much as I love the straightforwardness of linear prose, non-linear writing brings a different round of ideas onto the table. It can create recollections from flashbacks, heighten the perspective or interior turmoil of a character due to trauma or grief, or even just re-invent what-if scenes that the characters have imagined themselves. 

Gnossiene by @thatalmondgirl​ is one of my all-time favorite Rivetra fics. In this excerpt, you will see how she switches between the past and the present, and how it affects Petra’s POV as a conflicted character:

Contrary to popular belief (fuck Auruo) Petra actually didn’t cry easily.

Alright, she could admit that at some times, she was...emotional. It was far from a weakness, but even she could admit that they sometimes got in the way and walled off all rational thought. Anger, frustration, sadness, hell, even happiness. The only one she could easily compartmentalise away was fear, which probably stemmed from her military career. Even so. It was never easy to separate all the others from her actions, think from a clean slate like the Commander could do, like the captain. [. . . ] Petra groaned, splayed out across her bed. She drew her arm across her eyes, willing the tears to go away. She’d already blown through her tissue box.

“Petra, a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.” Mama sat on the end of her bed, with Petra on the floor between her legs. Even though Petra argued firmly that she was old enough to brush her own hair, Mama had insisted. Unfortunately, Petra wasn’t old enough - and probably never would be - to disagree with her mother.

“I know, Mama.” Petra grumbled.

“I don’t think you do. Else you wouldn’t be crying, would you?”

[. . . .]

“But a man shouldn’t complete you when you complete yourself. Maybe he’s an extension to your house. So you’ll be sad if the extension is compromised or burns down. But you still have the main house. And if it’s strong, the main house can still be standing even after the worst storm.”

Aside from Mama’s crazy metaphors that sometimes didn’t make sense, her message hit home. Even if it hit home years later.

See how it switched in between the before and after? 

An off-shoot of non-linear writing are vignettes (a layering of scenes separated by section breaks) wherein this writing style allows writers to curate scenes in terms of fragments, creating some kind of mosaic for the readers once they finally see the big picture. Nakimochiku’s I’m leaving, are you coming with me? stacks up scenes of interactions between Levi and Hange, enough to depict the kind of relationship that they have as young lovers in a school setting. You can string these fragments together, rearrange them in a different order, but in the end, you will still get the author's clear goal of highlighting how Levi and Hange’s relationship develops over time.

Those are the styles that I mentioned in my previous posts, but as I’ve told you, there’s more to writing than those, so I’ll give a short run-through of other methods in writing. 

Whether it’s dialogue-heavy works such as from my window to yours, or action-driven scenes like Carnivores (a Levi x Reader fic by CaptainDegenerate) that propel the story forward, we as readers should be able to follow through the actual storyline that the authors intend to take us. 

A third-person limited (we listen to Hange’s thoughts in Clockwork by @tundrainafrica) vis-à-vis an all-knowing/omniscient narration (the moon is dark by @sayonarasanity alternates the perspective of Levi and Hange) should be able to make us understand why the author chose this particular kind of point-of-view in order to tell the story. 

And lastly, having a solid and consistent tone throughout the work (the macabre of Even Humanity’s Strongest could make mistakes by Rimeko versus the sweet sentimentality of Flowers for You by @fanmoose12) should be able to set the atmosphere that the authors want us to imbibe as we read through their works. 

So there’s your crash course on writing and reading. Enjoy? :) 

[sarcastic-sunshines]

She’s Mine Part 1

Author’s Note:  This is my submission for @chaneajoyyy​ & @shaekingshitup​ ‘s Quarantine Challenge. It was just what I needed and I am so grateful for both you lovely ladies doing this. I hope you all are staying indoors and staying. As always, I cannot wait to hear what you think 😊

P.S. I was inspired by the song She’s Mine Part 1 by J Cole

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x [Black Reader]

Quarantine Writing Challenge Masterlist

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She’s Mine Part 1

“You’ve made so much progress over the past few months.”

Erik lifted his head, finally making eye contact with his therapist.

Here he was.

He never saw himself making it this far. He had asked for one thing: death. But here he was, spending most of his days listening to this woman and his family, trying to repair the inner turmoil that had been building his entire existence. 

Erik stared intensely at the woman before turning and looking at his ‘family’ around the room. They seemed happy, they always did. But this time, they showed a look of accomplishment. They believed in the progress that he apparently had made. He didn’t. He could see the benefit, though he wasn’t ready to call them family yet. Nonetheless, he thought he understood them all better. But he wasn’t ready to open up fully yet. He didn’t think he would ever be ready.

“If you ever need more than the weekly sessions, I can make myself available to you, Prince Erik.” He nodded slowly. The title still sounded foreign to his ears.

The therapist got up and left. Not long after Queen Mother and the Princess followed her out, but T’Challa stayed, waiting for his cousin to say anything.

“Are you alright,” he said, tired of waiting.

“I’m good,” Erik spoke. He observed the gentle face staring at him. “It don’t matter how many sessions we have. I’m gonna need time to adjust to this, my new normal.” T’Challa had a way of getting him to open up with little effort. The man always appeared so trusting, and a little piece of him wanted to fully trust him. But he knew better than to do that. So he would slowly let the man in. 

Slowly but surely.

“I know it is strange. That is why I think throwing yourself into a project will help you acclimate better.”

“Yeah,” he responded while  leaning back into the chair, “what you got me doing?” 

“Shuri is working on something for the kids in the center. I think you would be interested. It is a long term project that you will get to present in about nine months. I think it is enough time to decide where you would like to be. Here… Or America.” T’Challa stood, waiting for Erik to do the same. “Though I will admit cousin, as difficult as it had been for us, I have enjoyed your time here, and I personally would love it if you stay.” With that, T’Challa turned to walk out the room, leaving Erik behind. He needed a moment before he started walking towards his own chambers. 

His cousin’s question made him think about where he wanted to be. He hadn’t thought he would make it this far. He wasn’t sure what to do with this ‘second chance at life’. That’s what the therapist called it. He still wasn’t sure if he wanted it. Until he figured that out, he was back to surviving. He didn’t know what living felt like. He hadn’t for a long time. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The music was blaring. The heavy afrobeat tempo bounced off the walls of the lab as he entered, but he didn’t mind. He looked around at the different lab coats busily passing through the lab, working on what he could only describe as greatness.

That’s when he first saw her.

Her large afro puff pushed away from the deep umber complexion of her face. Her glasses sat low on her nose as she was solving some equation on the holographic board. Her lab coat hung tight on her curves that were impossible to miss. She was glowing. She had to be! How else could he explain why he was so drawn to her.

Her concentration broke away from the board as she surveilled the room for a moment. Briefly, her eyes connected with his. It only had been an instant, but in that instant, he knew. He had felt more within his soul than he had in months. Shuri quickly drew him away from the moment as she waved with rhythm, trying to get her cousin’s attention. 

“I am so excited you are here! I think you will love what we are working on,” she said, already moving towards her work table.

“Your brother said it’s basically like mini kimoyo beads.”

“Exactly. Of course, more limited than the ones Wakandan Citizens have, but this will help the kids with any of their needs! From school to housing, and even letting the Outreach coordinators know if a child is in trouble.”

“I like that, so what do you want me to do?” he asked as Shuri handed him a clipboard.

“Well, your fancy American degree leads me to believe that being the head of something like this would be right up your ally. And of course, your life experience lets me know a sense of empathy will be included as well,” she said with a small smile.

He nodded at her, and though he didn’t return the smile, Shuri could see the warmth in his eyes. Despite everything, she knew Erik liked her. She would catch him snickering at her jokes every once in a while, and it made her feel like she was doing something right. And she was. Erik could admit that watching Shuri’s enthusiasm for life was something worth seeing. It made him feel warm on the inside, and instinctively protective over her. Which showed how far they had come, considering how they had met. 

“And here is your team.” Shuri gestured to five individuals who lifted their heads to work and wave at the prince. “I will let you get to know them on your own time, but you will be working closely with y/n.” 

And just like that, the woman who had captured his attention when he entered stood in front of him, Her smile was wide as she stuck her hand out for him to shake. “ Y/n originally came up with the idea and has been leading it alongside me. I think you will both get along. She is easily one of my favourite people,” Shuri continued to praise y/n, who Erik had finally focused enough to shake hands with. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Erik” he stuttered out and internally winced. What was happening to him?

“I know”, y/n said, still smiling. She never broke eye contact, and it was as if she was seeing into his soul. “From what Shuri has said about you, I think you will be a great fit for what we have already started.”

“Alright. I’m excited to get to know you,” he said smoothly, his charm slowly returning. He made it obvious he was taking her full form in, and he could see she was doing the exact same thing. He didn’t mind at all. “Why don’t you introduce me to everyone, and then show me the layout.” 

And with that, her work mode turned on. Erik found himself struggling to catch up as he trailed behind her around the lab. He tried to stay focus and soak up everything she was saying, but it never took long for his mind to focus on everything else about her but the safety guidelines she was currently reading out. He could tell already, there was a fire in every aspect of her. He was so intrigued by her, more than ready to explore this fire, hoping he wouldn’t get burned along the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MONTH 1

If there was one thing Erik loved about Wakanda, it was the landscape. The natural beauty of the land was really like no other. So every day, during his lunch he would climb a hill where a few benches were littered and eat while enjoying the beauty before him. It seemed like a remote spot, so he was always able to enjoy peace and quiet. Especially knowing his next meal would be a much louder family dinner.

He didn’t mind family dinner, but he was for sure not used to it. The idea of sitting at a table where everyone shared their days and inside jokes was one he never saw himself being included in. At only one foster home did he ever eat at the table with everyone else, but it was always dead quiet. Laughter rarely filled that table. But here, among his ‘family’, laughter was a requirement. He still found himself feeling like an outsider despite the few chuckles he had been able to let out.

So at lunch, he appreciated the serenity of the hill as he prepared himself for not only the rest of the day but also his attempt to join the laughter.

He began to chew slowly, placing his book to the side when he could hear the muffled version of someone’s music. So much for a quiet lunch, he said to himself. He took a large bite thinking that if he ate quicker he could leave quicker. He felt a presence, but he didn’t turn until the person was sitting right next to him. 

The irritated face Erik originally had turned with had disappeared as soon as he saw y/n sitting next to him ever so casually.

“I thought I was the only one who liked sitting up here,” she said pulling out her packed lunch while stealing glances at Erik.

“Guess not,” he said finally. “ It is quiet up here, almost -”

“Serene,” she said, finishing his sentence before looking at him with a smile. He nodded slowly, with the smallest smile growing on his face. He liked y/n. After working with her for the better part of the month, he admired how confident and sure of herself she always was. When she looked at him, he felt her trying to understand him, even with the very little that he offered.

“Exactly, how come I haven’t seen you out here before? Actually, I never see you leave the lab. I was starting to think you were one of the robots that Shuri is always working on,” he said, taking another bite as y/n giggled at his comment. He almost felt proud of himself for getting her to laugh. 

“I am just a perfectionist. I really want this project to go well. It is like my baby.” she said looking out at the landscape, before turning to him. “But how ironic you say that, considering you are always the last one to leave the lab and the first one there in the morning.”

“Yeah well, you’re not the only one who wants this to work out. Shuri was right. My heart is in it. I didn’t want it to be, but it’s hard not to think about all the kids whose lives could be even a little better than mine.”  Y/n stared into his eyes the whole time he spoke. 

“I understand,” she said softly, and without thinking, she placed her hand on his knee. He stared at the hand for a moment. He didn’t want to admit but it was comforting. One thing he had noticed about working with y/n was that she had a way of making everyone feel like they had known each other for decades. Her presence always brought a sense of familiarity and Erik didn’t realize how much he loved it until this moment.

“So what does the prince do when he isn’t spending all his time testing out prototypes?” she said breaking the comfortable silence they had been basking in.

“I don’t know yet. Y’all don’t really play basketball out here.”

“Have you tried football?” “You mean soccer?” he asked, making y/n roll her eyes, “ I do. T’Challa tries to take me every once in a while but I don’t know if I like playin’ as much as watchin’.”

“Well if you like watching, I always need someone who is willing to watch the Premiere league with me. Wakandans are very patriotic, and that even comes to football, they only watch their own league,”  she explained 

“So you’re not patriotic?”

“I am. I just also enjoy the beautiful game of football as the international treasure that it is,” she said with a slight glare, her smile still painted on her face. “Besides, we can work on some of that paperwork that goes along with American projects as we watch.”

They both began to pack up their lunch as she waited for his answer. Since Erik had gotten here, he hadn’t made any friends, let alone been invited to activities outside of work. He was used to keeping to himself, and he liked it. But there was something about this woman that made him feel like he couldn’t get enough of her. So he ignored the voice in his head telling him to say he was busy and nodded his head. 

“A’ight, I’ll come, but you gotta watch a Warriors game with me,” he said. 

“That is fine, but just know I am a Clippers fan,” she said with a smirk. Erik stopped for a moment, he couldn’t lie, he was a little shocked she watched the NBA at all. Basketball fans were not that many in Wakanda, and he had only found a few.

“What?! They not even the best team in LA,” he said, catching himself smiling.

“That is not what is important here! I grew up a Clippers fan, so they are the best team to me.”

“Now who was out here teachin’ you the wrong thing,” Erik asked as they walked down the hill.

“My father. He was a war dog stationed in Los Angeles. He used to say his favourite thing to do on his mission was to go to Clippers game, especially when they played the Lakers, so you can take that up with him when you see him,” she said with a giggle.

“Shit, I might just have to,” he said with a low chuckle to match her laugh. He stared at her as she kept talking. This was the most comfortable he had felt since waking up. When they reached the bottom of the hill, he realized he didn’t want the moment to end. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MONTH 3

“Okay, try this.” She held a spoon full up to his mouth. He stared at the spoon for a second before giving. He chewed for a moment before moaning in satisfaction. 

“Damn, that’s good. It tastes like collard greens,” he said, watching y/n serving him a plate of the vegetable.

“Because it is. It is called Sukuma, and its what we are going to eat with the Ugali.” She finished serving them both before placing both plates on her dining table. Meanwhile, Erik worked hard to not get lost staring at the roundness of her curves. So, as usual, he focused on the artwork on her walls, vibrant colours that matched the equally vibrant decor inside y/n’s home. 

The first time he came over, he felt like he learned more about her just from her home. She smiled more when they were here, and she always seemed more relaxed. Erik enjoyed her the most here and recognized her home as her comfort zone. Her curls always went up into the tidiest bun she could manage at the time, and her work clothes were replaced with a pair of leggings or shorts with a crop top. If the Clippers were playing, she would bring out her jersey just to annoy Erik. And each time he would feign annoyance, just to stop himself from saying how sexy he actually thought she looked.

Each week, she would introduce him to new Wakandan cuisine and they would talk endlessly about nothing. Sometimes the conversation got deeper than nothing. He talked about his father, and his experiences after as he bounced through different foster homes. He learned that her mother was a Somali-American who her father had met while stationed in LA. After she passed when y/n was five, her father brought her back to Wakanda, and she hadn’t been back since. Knowing that made Erik more comfortable with his own confusing identity.

As usual, they moved to the couch where they let the effects of their food coma take over their bodies. Erik had learned quickly that y/n loved physical touch. Even if it was in the most subtle of gestures like their knees touching. After a heavy meal like the one, they just had, y/n head was always found resting against his shoulder as they watched a sports game. They had started to show each other their favourite films. 

Tonight y/n had convinced him into watching Beyond the Lights, Erik watched y/n face as she felt every emotion that Noni Jean portrayed through her screen. 

“I see you,” she whispered.

“What?”

“I see you. It’s like the overall theme of the film. To have a love so deep, so soulful, that they see all of you.” At this point, y/n had sat up and was looking at Erik intensely. And Erik was looking back at her, feeling every word she was saying. “Your fears, your insecurities, your wants and needs, aspirations, all of it. That type of love is so deep and intentional.”

“You ever had that type of love before?” Erik asked meekly, as they sat facing each other now.

“I always thought I did, but I don’t know, sometimes you just feel a connection, and I think at that moment you begin to feel it.” She broke eye contact for a moment to look at her leg, where Erik’s arm had been soothingly passing for about a minute.

“It’s like…”

“It just clicks in that exact moment, and you just know everything and anything.” His voice grew deeper as he finished her sentence. It had been like this for the past two months. Sometimes the conversations would get so deep, they felt the energy. It would take over his whole body, but the fear of opening up like that would make him pull away.

But not this time. He knew with all his being that he didn’t want to pull away. So he moved his hand from her knee to cup her face softly.

“Clarity. That’s what that is,” she said softly as she closed the space in between them. Erik met her halfway. They were so close, he could feel her breath on his lips. “I see you.”

The gentle declaration was all he needed to finally capture her lips in his. 

It felt like they had been in this space before. He didn’t feel like he was learning her body, but rather that he was being reintroduced to the curves he had been admiring from afar. Her lips on his body was a sensation that he had been anticipating for a while. His hands on her hips felt like home, and he hadn’t had that in a long time. Their bodies connecting was a moment he wanted to just live in forever.

Her little snores were a comforting sound as she laid on his chest. His hand slowly passed on her bareback, and it was then he realized that he felt alive, had something to look forward to.

With that thought, he kissed her head and finally turned off his mind and let sleep take him. It was the best sleep he had had in months. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MONTH 5 

Y/n looked over Erik’s shoulder as he focused on the long legal document that sat in front of him. He had been reading through it for the better part of the night. She pulled the chair next to him and rested her chin on his shoulder. He turned for a moment to kiss her before going back to highlighting.

“You have been looking at this all night. I thought you came over to spend time with me,” she pouted as she spoke. His arm came around her, slowly creeping under her shirt.

“I’m sorry, baby, you know how it is. Once I start, I can’t put it down.” He turned off the holographic document and turned his full attention to her. “But I’m all yours now, what are we doing?” 

She kissed him again, trying to center him, but she could tell he was still thinking about whatever he was working on. “Do you want to share with me what you are reading about?”

Erik stopped for a moment, hesitant to share. She lifted his head so they could hold eye contact.

“It’s the Foster Care Regulation in the state of California. I’m just tryin’ to see if there’s a way the center can take in these kids instead of them being thrown around the system.”

“Because you know you can do a better job than the current system?” she asked, he nodded along with her question.

“I just know what it’s like, and if I can help even just one kid, then this would be worth it. Giving them food and safe place ain’t shit if they’re being shuffled around every couple months.” As always, she nodded along as he spoke, acknowledging every word he was saying, and the words he was afraid to say. “I hear you,” she said softly, and with those simple words, he felt like his ideas were sane. “I am sure we can look into more when we go for the launching of the beads. I’m excited you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course, I get to see places that I haven’t been able to go since I was a little girl. Probably visit all the parts of the city that my parents loved so much. And, of course, see all the places that created my Erik,” she said gripping his chin, his smile exposing the golden grill that she loved so much.  

Y/n kissed him softly before continuing. “After your cousin opened the border for Wakandans, I promised that I would only go back if I had something to give to my people. Now the months are getting closer and it’s becoming so real, you know?” He loved how excited she looked.

“You ever thought about moving back, like living there?”

“I don’t think so… Wakanda is home at this point. I want my life to be here.” She paused for a moment before looking at him doubtingly. “Are you thinking of going back to Oakland?” “It’s a possibility.” 

“Meaning?”

“Look, I never knew how long I was gon’ stay. I just knew I needed to learn this side of me, and I did. Oakland’s home though. It’s familiar to me. And if I wanna get this alternative foster care system off the ground, I’m gon’ wanna be there. There ain’t nothing holding me here anyways.”

Y/n’s eyes opened wide. He could see the hurt he caused and immediately felt bad “Really, not one reason for you to even consider staying?”

“Baby...you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

She didn’t wait for him to finish before getting up and walking towards her room. All he heard was the slam of her door to know she was pissed. These were the moments Erik wasn’t ready for yet: the attachment part, where he had to consider someone else. He knew what he said was rude, but a little piece of him needed to know he could be without her. There was a strange comfort in knowing that. At least that’s what he told himself as he packed his things to go home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MONTH 6

Family dinner was extra loud today, and that’s because Erik had joined. His boisterous voice was finally being heard in the dining hall. Most importantly, his laughter. He was with his family, six months ago, he didn’t think he could say that without feeling strange about it. But here he was, listening and laughing.

“Oh, by the way, Erik, can I give you this folder to give y/n?” Shuri asked casually. “I’ve barely seen her at the lab.”

And Erik knew why. She was avoiding him. It was obvious. They had barely spoken since his comment. Not that she hadn’t tried, but things just grew awkward. Erik missed her though. Even when she was around, he could tell she was withdrawn, probably doing what he too was trying to do.

Protecting his heart.

“Uh yeah, I’ll bring it to her later on,” he said, retreating back into his hard shell. The only one who seemed to have noticed was T’Challa, who didn’t have a problem sharing his concern as they walked down the long palace halls.

“So are things okay with you and y/n?”

“Yeah? Why you asking?”

“Because you’ve been showing up to dinner more often,” T’Challa said with a smirk that made Erik roll his eyes.

“Yeah, well, things have been different. I mentioned going back to Oakland and she got all up in her feelings.” T’Challa frowned for a second before steadying his face.

“So you decided to go? I didn’t know you had already made a decision. I was getting used to having you here, cousin.”

“I haven’t decided shit. She just thinks we’re a unit. But I need to figure out what’s best for me. Ain’t that what I was supposed to be doing,” he said much more aggressively than he intended.

“That is somewhat true, but I also know you have been acting like you are a ‘unit’. You practically were living together,” T’Challa said jokingly, making Erik kiss his teeth. “I also know since you started seeing y/n, you have become a much different person than who you were six months ago. I can’t say she is the cause of it all, but you and I know she played a larger role.”

Erik stopped and leaned on the wall, looking at the folder under his arm. He knew his cousin was right, and he hated it.

“I think you are just afraid of the love and stability she offers. We both know you haven’t had that in a long time, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of it.” 

Erik nodded for a second. He spun his ring for a moment before leaving the wall. “I gotta go. I’ll catch you later,” he said walking in the opposite direction from T’Challa.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a large bang on the door. It startled y/n who had been meditating. It seemed like she had been needing a sense of peace more than usual. There was another bang on the door, followed by Erik yelling. “Baby! I know you in there!”

She slowly got up from her spot on the ground and found Erik standing on the other side looking much meeker than he had sounded only a moment ago. Slowly, his eyes traveled down her body before he cleared his throat to speak.

“Shuri said to bring this to you,” he said thrusting the folder in her hand. She looked down at it with a frown.

“Is that the only reason you came here?”

“No. I came to find out why you haven’t been coming to work. You know we need you to keep us in order,” he tried to joke, but y/n’s face did not move at all.

“Baby, can I come in and talk for a second,” he asked more seriously. Reluctantly, she opened the door wider to let him in. He took his normal spot on her couch and watched as she chose to sit as far from him as possible. He groaned before remembering he wasn’t there to argue with her.

“So,” she said with all the attitude she could.

“There ain’t never been a time in my life when I was allowed to be comfortable, you know that,” he said slowly. “I’m not justifying anything, but it’s hard for me to let you in like that, to think this kinda happiness is one I’m supposed to be comfortable with. That it’s not gon’ leave as soon as I accept it. So I became cold as soon as it became comfortable.” His leg began to shake nervously. “Everyone I have ever loved has been taken away from me, and I don’t need that happenin’ with you. I’ve been fine on my own. At least I thought I was, then I realized I got family, and you. And I am sorry I ever made you feel like you weren’t the most important person in my life.” 

He finally looked at her for the first time since he started talking.

“Because I love you so much y/n. I love you so much I’m afraid to lose you,” he began to sniffle, trying to keep his emotions together.

Y/n smiled at him, slowly closing the gap between them. She placed a hand on top of his, and with the other, she held his chin, making sure he kept eye contact with her. And for a moment she didn’t respond, she just stared at him. Erik felt his breathing slowing down. He hadn’t even realized how anxious he had been. 

It scared him to think about how safe one person could make him feel. Something he hadn’t experienced since being a little boy in his Baba’s arms.

“I love you too Erik Stevens,” y/n spoke after a moment. A soft smile rested on her lips. “I was scared to, but I do, and because of that, I’m not going anywhere.”

He nodded softly letting her words sink into his soul.

“I love you, and I see you.” Those words, so simple, but enough to let him know where he needed to be.

“I see you too,” he said before kissing her softly. She brought her arms around him, and just like that, he felt alive again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MONTH 9

“I’m open!” 

Erik yelled to one of the kids on his team to pass to him. As soon as he got the ball, he went straight for a layup, and just like that he helped his team win. The young boys circled around him reaching for high fives from Erik. Erik glanced at y/n who stood at the sidelines with a slight smile on her face. 

An announcement rang through the outreach center letting the boys know they had ten minutes before a session with Shuri. Erik watched as all the boys moved to get their things and go. He took the opportunity to walk over to y/n who he greeted with a deep kiss before she pushed him away.

“If I knew I had a cheerleader out there, I would have made more shots,”  he said with a smile that made y/n playfully shove him as she tried to hide her smile. 

“Yeah, whatever. I’m just here to make sure you get ready for the game on time. I want you to see every moment of the Clippers destroying your little team.”

“You talk a lot of shit for a team that ain’t got no ring,” he said putting his arm around her as she giggled. They started to walk from the center to his car ever so slowly. He took in the atmosphere of his hometown. He had missed it, but not as much as he thought he would.

“You are very good with the kids.”

“Yeah... You think so?” He opened her car door for her.

“All they talk about in our practice sessions is how cool Erik.” She threw her hands up mockingly as he buckled in and turned towards her. 

“They’re cool kids. It ain’t hard with them.”

“I hope its that easy when we have ours.”

His heart seemed to have stopped for a moment. They had never talked about that far in the future before.

“Calm down, ma, you don’t want to do things the right way? I don’t know. Think about marriage first,” he says looking at her face, making sure to take in everything she said.

“My dad always mentioned the two of us doing our rituals and him giving me away to you.” Y/n rolled her eyes.

“You don’t want that?” 

“I don’t know. My parents never got married but I think their love was pure without it. So I think I feel the same way. We don’t need titles to know we are committed to each other.”

He looked at her for a moment, slightly distracted by the woman that he loved. 

“I like that. Just know that no matter what we decide I’m still gon’ call you my wifey.”

“That’s fine. As long as you are the one saying it,” she said leaning in to kiss him.

“I hear you,” he said looking at her before getting ready to drive off.  

She kept stealing glances of him before speaking.“Have you given more thought about where you want to stay? Is Oakland calling you?” 

He placed his hand on her bouncing leg.

“Right now? Home is wherever you are,” he said with a straight face. “That’s gon’ mean me going back for a while but we’ll make it work.”

She nodded with a smile before picking up his hand on her thigh and giving it a kiss and placing it back. He flashed her a smile showing off the golden grill that she loved so much. They entered a comfortable silence, filled only by a soft R&B playlist he had playing. It was then, he was sure, that this was what living felt like. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Part 2 

Taglist: @aloevverified​ @chaneajoyyy​ @shaekingshitup​ @fd-writes​ @ashanti-notthesinger​ @ghostfacekill-monger​

[magpiemorality]

Ok so this is a slightly disjointed idea but, 24 hour diner with Virgil or Dee as waiter/person who works there and one of the boys is a regular customer, but who shows up at the oddest of hours. they talk one day and our customer boy tells him about slightly unbelievable happenings, and Virge/Dee isn't sure if they are making fun of him, but this continues. They become each others constant, cause life's hectic. Any ship :] - xaime

This isn’t entirely what you requested because my mind half read it and went off on a wild tangent, but I hope you enjoy! 

Combined with:

This isn't a prompt as much as it's a challenge; how many different names can you give Deceit in one short story without it being incoherent? - @loveceit

"It was a dark and stormy knight" listen, it was a pun and a combo of purple prose+virgil nickname so i figured it could become a story therefore you get it *goes back into the night* - Anonymous

AO3

***

The diner was always an interesting place to work. From the peppy college students to the millennials seeking a quirky date; from the families with rowdy kids to the construction workers that were on a project nearby; it was a great place to be a people watcher.

Just a shame Virgil didn't much like people. He was only there to finance his freelance work and pay for his rent, which made him the perfect candidate for the night shifts.

When he'd accepted the graveyard hours he'd assumed he could just get some work done, hang out in silence until the morning guy, some peppy high-school grad waiting to get into the community college a few blocks away, showed up to take over.

No one told Virgil that the night shift often got the most... interesting customers.

Case in point; D- uh, Dee something. It might have been Damien? Virgil was sure he'd introduced himself as Damien once, but he couldn't quite remember and the guy was a regular by now so he couldn't ask, either. Damien- or maybe Darren?- was a fascinating individual that had managed to pique even Virgil's lack of interest, coming in as he did every time Virgil was on shift without fail. It wasn't always the same time, sometimes Darren, or Dalziel, arrived as the night started around eight or nine (if the sun had gone down), and sometimes he arrived as late as four or five am, only a few hours before Virgil got to go home.

No matter what though, he always stayed until Virgil's shift ended, disappearing in the few minutes when Virgil headed in the back to change out of his apron and grab his stuff. What a mystery. Virgil might not have liked people but he adored a good mystery.

They talked a little every so often, just exchanging pleasantries when Virgil brought D- Derek?- his coffee or a slice of pie (homemade by the chefs but not remotely fresh; this wasn't actually the 50s and demand was too high for authenticity like that). The man was often working diligently away on a clunky laptop with no discernible brand, tap tap tapping providing a nicely soothing rhythmic background to Virgil's own work over at the counter. It was always the same volume, even when there was dead silence, or rain outside, not that Virgil consciously noticed that.

Once he almost caught a glimpse of what D...rake? No definitely not a Drake, eesh. Maybe Declan? Still not right... What Dee was going. It looked like coding, but not coding that Virgil really recognised. More like if the Matrix had been an actual thing of sorts, flickering symbols moving up and down and somehow forwards and backwards, deep into the screen. It made his head hurt a little and Dee- no wait, it was... it was... nope, gone again. Maybe Devon? Ew no. 100% not right.

Anyhow, since then Virgil hadn't ever tried to look again, feeling faintly queasy at the thought of seeing that screen again, and the mysterious Dee just kept tapping reliably away.

The mystery deepened when Virgil had to take a day shift one week. It was busy, a little annoying because he had work to do he would have to stay up late to do instead, and his sleeping pattern was immediately off-kilter after the change of rhythm, but there was something else. His regular D- David? No, too plain. He was more of a Despereaux, or a December, something like that... His regular wasn't there, and the absence was more noticeable than Virgil could have predicted. Even worse, there was some creepy man with crazy intense eyes who came in part way through Virgil's shift and would not. stop. staring. When he got his things and headed to go home the man just smiled at him brightly and he hurried to grab the bus, giving in to the urge to keep looking over his shoulder as he made his way back to his apartment.

He told Drew, Dara, Dolion, whatever his goddamn name was, next time he was on the night shift. It was like slipping into bed at the end of the day; how right it felt to be back under cover of darkness. Dylan, D-ax? That was a name right? Not his mystery regular's though... Dee seemed curious about where Virgil had been, when he served the guy his drink that night, and insisted he sit down for a chat while the diner was otherwise empty. Virgil, despite the work he needed to get done, agreed, and they spent a while having a comfortable and easy conversation that had them both laughing in turn.

That night Virgil left work with a smile on his face for the first time in a very long time.

It only took another few shifts before Desmond or Dexter or Diaz admitted he'd been rather worried when Virgil had changed shifts. He was equally worried about the weird guy that had shown up on that shift. "There are some bad people out there," he'd murmured, looking out the window into the dark streets with a faraway expression as Virgil hung on his every word. "And there are some even worse things than them that prowl the streets." He'd shot Virgil a soft smile, a little apologetic, and had turned the subject neatly onto Virgil's word, leaving the words lingering in the air, almost solid enough to touch as they followed Virgil around for the rest of the week.

That conversation turned into a part of the routine, sitting together over cups of hot, strong coffee, grinning and laughing and sharing thoughts on the world. Rarely did their own lives get much discussion, the past just seemed... unimportant somehow, when compared to the now and the what could be. Draco or Dorian or Dominic or whatever his name was, was quickly becoming Virgil's best friend, and from the genuine delight on Douglas or Diego or Daniel's face he felt the same way.

And one night his friend was late.

It was near closing and Dee still hadn't shown up. Despite the massive coincidence Virgil had never bothered to wonder why he seemed to know the right nights to visit the diner, subconsciously writing it off as nothing strange, but now he forced his worries down with the logical answer that Dee simply had other things to do.

It wasn't weird that he had never once failed to show up for the past... had it been more than a year now? Close to two, even? It... that wasn't weird...

It was weird as hell. But it wasn't anything to worry about; no that pleasure belonged to his absence. Even when Virgil went and changed and got his bag, wondering if tonight of all nights Dean or Dustin or Donovan would have appeared in that moment instead of his usual disappearance, but it wasn't to be.

The journey home felt wrong and Virgil was restless when he forced himself to go to bed, full of turbulent thoughts and concerns. "There are some bad people out there," his thoughts whispered in the early dawn light. "And there are some even worse things than them that prowl the streets."

And yet, somehow, he was there again the next shift. He looked tired, Dalton or Deacon or Demetrius. His eyes were dark and his hair ruffled, and his laptop was nowhere to be seen. He smiled though, when Virgil spotted him, already hunched down in the booth in the corner, the shadow of bruises on his face.

Virgil waited for the other lonely customer to finish up and head off before turning the never-used sign to CLOSED and bringing the entire pot of coffee over for them both. He wrapped his friend in a hug when he stood from the booth as Virgil approached, only making sure to put the pot down first.

When they fell back into the red leather bench seats, eyes on the table in front of them and silence thick, Virgil knew something was changed forever.

He looked up as Dee cleared his throat, a rueful smile on his face. "I owe you an explanation, Virgil," he said, voice hoarse and gravelly.

"Do you?" Virgil asked, looking at him curiously. Somehow it felt like he was actually seeing Dee now, like he was clear where he'd been slightly blurred before. And Dee just smiled again.

"Let me tell you a story. About a man living in a world he wasn't meant to, and someone who saved him."

Virgil's eyebrows furrowed together and he leaned forwards, elbows on the table so he could rest his chin in his hands.

"It was a dark and stormy knight," the man called Dante began. "That saved him..."

-

Masterlist | Buymeacoffee

[velvetsehun]

Born to Die| OSH| 04

pairing: Oh Sehun x Reader genre: Mafia!Sehun rating: 18+ warnings: violence, gun use, mature language, smut (in future chapters), slow burn. words: 13.1k summary: a collusions of worlds is supposed to kill, but what if it can do something else? A/N: So here we are... chapter four already! this was a wild ride to write and but i’m sure it’ll be a wild ride to read! now as always enjoy the chapter, get comfortable cause this is a long one! but also while you’re here.. If you really enjoyed it then i suggest you leave me some feedback, lets chat about it, now.. enjoy my babies ;)

TW// Warning this part contains some material that might be sensitive to readers as it depicts scenes of intense violence and gun use and possible suffocation, readers discretion is advised. Masterlist| Next

“Let’s talk Sehun…”

Sleep was not going to come any easy to Sehun now, but as he felt her lips brushing against his own, he figured that a distraction might - because if there was anything that Park Jeonghwa was good at, it was being a distraction. His hand left her wrist, he opted to hold onto her shoulder pushing her back just a fraction so he could speak without her mouth pressed to his unmoving one.

“Talk?” He clicked his tongue, “This doesn’t seem like talking.” She smirked at him, a smirk that only someone that had something to say held.

“We can talk later, my love,” Her voice twinkled, a gleam in her eyes as her nails trailed up the arm that was holding her shoulder, “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed me?” He questioned, an eyebrow quirked at her, “I’m afraid I can’t say the feeling was mutual, my love.” He mocked her tone slightly, watching the frustration build up in her eyes, but he quickly spoke before she could voice her discontent.

“How did you get in.” He demanded slightly, Sehun had a rough morning he wasn’t about to find another breach in his security.

“Yixing, he drove me” Jeonghwa rolled her eyes at him, straightening up slightly, “I told you already, I want to speak to you.”

“Willingly?” Sehun quizzed, ignoring her – Jeonghwa merely scoffed at him.

“Yes, willingly,” She drawled, looking at her hand as she continued to draw shapes on his bare torso, “I am quite convincing when I want to be.”

“Annoying more like,” Sehun said in his head as he rolled his eyes at her.

Park Jeonghwa was a lot of things, and while convincing to a certain extent was one of them – she was also notoriously vicious when she didn’t get what she wanted, Sehun knew sending Yixing to deal with her was going to piss her off, but if he could keep his contact time down to the bare minimum he would.

“Do you not want to see me?” She pouted slightly in a mock act of innocence, something she was very good at.

“Not particularly, no” He drawled out, swiping her hand off his stomach, “Hence why I sent Yixing.” She merely smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“That not what you were saying a few weeks ago,” She hummed, sliding her jacket off – she was dressed in her usual low-cut blouse and short tight skirt, “I do remember us having a lovely evening after that charity gala.”

“I remember a lot of alcohol and not a lot of coherence,” Sehun’s eyebrow plucked up as he sat up against his headboard, she smirked at him as he did so.

“Hm… Really?” She questioned him, tapping a steady rhythm on his leg with her fingers, “I’ll remember that next time you come crawling to me for comfort” She was playing with him.

“Comfort” His mouth ticked with a mocking smile, “I’d find more comfort tossing myself into a lion’s cage than with you.” Jeonghwa laughed at him but it was empty.

Sehun wasn’t a man that sought-after comfort, not anymore; and while he did remember their night together, one of many, he also knew that there was nothing between them – because Park Jeonghwa was a lot of things, but she wasn’t for Sehun. She might have fitted with him family and social wise, being the daughter of one of his more leading associates– but that’s where the similarities ended. Jeonghwa wanted a lot of things, but from him, she wanted a partner for life, but that not something Sehun would ever be; she wanted the idyllic crime syndicate family – rich man that marries a rich wife and they live together with the rich kids while withholding the fact that they’re both miserable. He’d watched it happen to his own family, and he had no doubt that’s would happen with her – if he ever showed any interest to begin with. Because along with that, if Jeonghwa craved anything – it was Sehun’s attention, he’d seen the look in her eyes for years; she held more feelings for him than he’d ever hold for her.

Sehun and Jeonghwa had come across each other numerous times over the years, families like theirs mingled all the time; they knew each other through even the most awkward of teen years, but Sehun never held any feelings towards the girl – she was a typical crime family daughter; she liked expensive things and had a bite that was worse than her bark, and he knew that she’d run him to the ground if she could. He also knew that probably if his family had still been around he would have been married off to her when they were both of age, they’d had heard murmuring of it when they were children but to him, she wasn’t a friend, she wasn’t the perfect match for him like he’s heard his mother suggest; she was someone he just knew by association. They had been coupled off together throughout the years, attending parties and such together, but that’s where their “togetherness” ended, she warmed his bed sometimes and he filled the void she had for him - that was it.

“Why are you here Jeonghwa?” He continued, she was busy looking around the room, but those eyes flicked to him soon enough.

“Can’t an old friend visit?” She plainly said. She had her head tilted in a challenge to him, “Plus, word on the street said you shot up a bar last night, took a little gift with you” He only rolled his eyes.

“How long did it take you to get that out of Yixing?” He tutted, looking her dead in the eye, “Green isn’t your colour Jeonghwa, especially not now.” It was her turn to roll the eyes, a puff of air passing her lips in a huff.

“Everything is my colour, Sehun” She smirked slightly before dropping it, “Yixing mentioned you were having a few troubles with your guest,” She hummed, tapping his leg, “If she’s not speaking, I’d be very happy to talk to her…” She glinted in her eyes.  

“Our guest is co-operating just fine without your assistance,” Sehun challenged her slightly to say something else, “But I’ll ask again, why are you here?”

“I refuse to speak to your men,” She grumbled, “If I send a message saying I want to speak to you, I expect you to turn up.” Sehun really didn’t want to deal with this.

“I was busy,” He told her, which wasn’t a lie; he was busy dealing with his escaped captive, “Yixing was the next best option, or would you have liked Baekhyun instead?”

“Keep that idiot away from me,” She scoffed turning her nose up, she took a second before she continued, “Wouldn’t you have liked to know what Byung-Chul was doing with your money?” She smirked at him.

“What do you know?” He gritted slightly, annoyed with her already.

“More than you want me to know,” She giggled, “I’ll tell you, but it comes with a price” She grinned at him.

“A price?” He quizzed, with a quirked brow, “A price for information that directly involves me and my syndicate?”

“Well…” She teased, “Maybe if you had met me as I asked, I wouldn’t need to bargain your precious information” Her voice dropped into a mocking tone towards the end.

“Jeonghwa.” He gave a warning, getting fed up – he just wanted to rest.

“Sehunnie…” She merely pouted mockingly at him. He merely glared at her for a second before she eventually sighed with a tepid smile, the glint in her eyes was back.

“One kiss.” She smirked, holding up one finger, “One kiss and the information is yours.”

Sehun couldn’t roll his eyes hard enough, looking at the girl he gave her a passive look but he complied anyway, grabbing the front of her blouse he drew her lips to his – Jeonghwa let out a muffled moan of shock before she eased into it with a grin, her cold hand wrapping around his neck as she pulled him more towards her. This was her game, but Sehun wasn’t about to lose it; tapping her chin slightly, he pulled back.

“Information, Jeonghwa.” He spoke lowly, she tried to capture his mouth again, but he moved back slightly; regardless if he felt her nails digging into his neck to keep him there. She merely huffed looking at him, her dark eyes swimming with mirth.

“I’ll tell you what I know.”

Admittedly, Chanyeol left the guests room feeling slightly different than he did before, his gutting churning with a funny feeling as he practically bolted from the room – he wasn’t isolated by his job by any means, but it was generally safer to try and converse with people that rotated in the same circles as himself, talking to you was something he didn’t expect to hit him like it did. Normality is what he would call it, you were no means involved in the same world as any of them but listening to you reprimand him for the way he chose to live hit close to home.

“I’m not above surviving,” You said quietly, “I’m above the means you took to get there.”

He could feel his skin crawling with disgust at himself, it was different hearing someone tell him that the stuff he did was horrible – he was very much in a circle of people that only ever congratulated him on his wrongdoings, and Chanyeol knew that he had done a lot of wrongdoings. He was by no means a nice man, he wasn’t a demon in disguise, but he wasn’t an angel either – he had done some horrible things to some horrible people, and like his brothers his hands were stained with so much red that sometimes when he thought about it, he might just have been a devil, he had shed the blood to be. The disappointment laced in your tone did remind him of his sister, another person he let down in his life, but as he stated before – he was merely doing what he could to survive.

The compound had a serenity settled over it, much different from the chaos it had been before, and he could feel the exhaustion fusing with his DNA as he slammed the metal tray he had brought down from the room down on the counter – the metal clang running through the empty kitchen. Tiredness had made Chanyeol unobservant, otherwise, he would have noticed Baekhyun leaning on the door frame.

“Don’t damage Kyungsoo’s kitchen now, he’ll have your head.” He could hear the teasing tone in his friend’s voice, but he merely just grunted in response, too tired to say anything. “Cat got your tongue, Yeol?” He smiled his impish smile, sitting down at one of the bar stools.

“Something like that,” Chanyeol sighed slightly, turning around to lean on the counter, facing his questioning friend, “Long morning.” Chanyeol would have chuckled at the state that Baekhyun was in if he had the energy.

His companion was a mess of ruffled hair, dried blood, bruised face, and clothes that looked about 2 days old – he probably didn’t look much better, they’d been working for a few days, but still, Baekhyun looked rough.

“Hmm, I’d say less a cat…” Baekhyun faked being in thought, tapping his chin for effect, “And more a guest that’s got to you.” Chanyeol merely rolled his eyes.

“She hasn’t got to me,” Chanyeol stated clearly even if it was a lie, “She’s got nothing to get to me about.”

“I may have been hit on the head but I’m not deaf,” Baekhyun rolled his own eyes, leaning his face on his palm, “I walked past earlier, the two of you have gotten cosy, haven’t you?” He teased, “She’s been here what? 2 hours? And you’ve already got it bad.”

“Got it bad?” Chanyeol scrunched his nose up, “I cleaned her up and we spoke, that was it – there’s nothing to get, was I supposed to do it in silence?”

“I’m just saying,” Baekhyun grinned, “You got the hots for the guest that on you, she’s cute – even I’ll admit that.”

“Don’t you have a job to be doing?” Chanyeol rolled his eyes, “You know, doing what Sehun asked you to do instead of trying to create a situation that isn’t there?”

“Sehun also wouldn’t like you playing with his guest either, but here we are,” Baekhyun smirked widely, “Plus I cleaned his car, what more does he want?” Chanyeol merely shook his head at him.

“Plus, Yixing called,” Baekhyun scoffed slightly, “He’s bringing home a guest, I was going to tell our loving boss, but we all know he hates being interrupted when he’s trying to rest.”

“A guest?” Chanyeol quirked his brow, “Who is it now?”

“Park Jeonghwa,” Baekhyun made a fake gag noise while rolling his eyes, “Apparently she didn’t love that Sehun sent Yixing, so she demanded to speak to him.”

“Looks like no one’s getting sleep,” Chanyeol looked disgusted.

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Baekhyun hummed, toying around with his pocketknife, “You’re not the only one giving eyes to the new girl.”

“I’m not making eyes,” Chanyeol gritted out, glaring at his friend, “Will you stop that?”

“Look, all I’m saying is that Sehun is too touchy-feely,” Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol as he spoke, “I’ve known him a very long time, Sehun doesn’t do touchy-feely.”

“Well Jeonghwa seems to be an acceptation,” Chanyeol hummed, turning around to pour himself a glass of whatever, “She’s been making trips around here for years.”

“Jeonghwa,” Baekhyun began with a raised eyebrow, “Want’s something she’ll never have, Jun and I have watched for years as she’s pinned for him” Chanyeol frowned at that, it was rare he heard much about their younger days – Baekhyun, Jun, Yixing and Sehun had known each other since they were kids.

Syndicate families stuck together closely, that much he knew, they meandered in the same circles and worked together – from what he knew, Sehun’s father was the head of it all until his untimely passing. He didn’t know that much about the Byun family either, only that Baekhyun didn’t really speak to them and he’d occasionally see his brother when the older one wanted something from him – everyone around him had difficult family lives, for some it was part of the job, but he often wondered what I was like to have your family be the difficult part of your job. It was no secret that any syndicate that fell under the Oh Family was a powerful one, the Oh’s had a reputation in the underground for their extensive “businesses” but it seemed to Chanyeol that everyone prioritised that over any form of a loving relationship – something he’d never fully grasped. Chanyeol knew he was called the baby of the group for a reason, even though it had been 6 years, he was much more naïve to their life than the rest of them, the ones that weren’t born into this world included; he had the doe eyes of someone who was just starting, not the hardened canvases of his much more experienced brothers, they often joked how he rose the ranks so quick.

“And Sehun’s never seemed interested…?” Chanyeol quizzed.

“Never.” Baekhyun shook his head, “Not even when he was a lanky little teenager, she’s never caught his eye” Baekhyun looked like he was recalling those days, a fond smile on his lips, “He knows she’s pretty, gorgeous in fact, and that not the reason he doesn’t like her.”

“What’s the reason then?” Chanyeol asked curiously, crossing his arms over his chest, “She’s pretty, rich, affluent, understands his life, what else could he want?” Baekhyun shrugged.

“Your guess is as good as mines,” The latter said, “I suppose he doesn’t want to be like everyone else in his family or any of our families” He had a look in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Chanyeol asked with a raised brow.

“Bound to someone you’ll never love,” Baekhyun stated like it was the simplest thing in the world, “This job doesn’t allow you to love someone.” There was a brief pause before he continued.

“Look at my father – he married my mother and when his wrongdoings got her killed,” Baekhyun looked uncomfortable for a second before he sighed, “He married someone else as quickly as he could a few weeks later, no grieving just business, you don’t marry for love – you marry for allies and power” Chanyeol looked at his brother sympathetically, but Baekhyun kept talking like this wasn’t something difficult to talk about.  

“My father never loved my mother, he liked her because he was supposed to, but he never loved her…” Baekhyun had distance in his eyes as he recalled the woman, “I was 7 when she was shot, right in the foyer of our home, all because my father let a guns trade go sour and the goods were never delivered” He sighed looking at the marble counter.

“I’m sure people do find love in this world, Yixing’s parents were forced together but look at them now, they love each other,” Baekhyun was tapping at the counter, “But the reality is, no one truly loves in our world, we tolerate and make gain from union – I loved my mother, but my father didn’t, and now she’s dead and some imposter is in her place.”

“Baekhyun…” Chanyeol started, seeing the pain in his brothers’ eyes.

“Jeonghwa seems right for Sehun because of her social stature, but that can’t build a relationship, no matter how hard she tries or begs for him.” Baekhyun said honestly, “I get it, I don’t exactly want that for myself either, but I can’t go around loving someone and live in constant fear that one day they’re going to get shot as well”

“Sehun doesn’t want to end up like his father, Jeonghwa would only make his life that way,” Baekhyun sighed, “They’d have the “perfect” syndicate family, while Jeonghwa’s father tries to ruin us from the inside out, she’s the epitome of everything he doesn’t want in life.”

Chanyeol realised for a second how blessed his life before all this was; he was treated like the apple of his parents’ eyes; they lived a beautiful life where love flooded the house and they never had to wonder for a second if they loved each other. Although he was difficult as he got older, Chanyeol still knew his parents loved him dearly because they had created him out of their love. His heart burned for a second seeing the pain on Baekhyun’s face, he’d known that he’d lost his mother young, but it wasn’t something he ever talked about, he only ever complained at what a witch his stepmother could be.

“Some advice Chanyeol?” Baekhyun said breaking Chanyeol’s thoughts and standing up from his chair, “Be with someone you don’t mind losing at any moment, cause you’re not going to get more than that in this job.”

“It’s not a life is it?” Chanyeol spoke honestly looking at his friend in earnest.

“It’s not,” Baekhyun said, “But it’s a life that’s comfortable, despite how uncomfortable it is.”

“You’ve never thought of changing it…?” Chanyeol lowered his voice slightly, “Not for one second?” Baekhyun merely chuckled a bit humourlessly.

“We’ve thought of changing it, but we can’t,” Baekhyun said with a tone to his voice, “Be very thankful you didn’t grow up like this, that’s a whole other can of worms.” Baekhyun chuckled with no convection to it. He watched with a look at he went to leave a small mumbling of getting back to work gracing his lips.

Chanyeol often wondered if growing up like them would have benefited him in any way, to have that crime life constantly around you to the point that you knew it better than you knew the back of your hand – but it was no lie that the ones that did grow up in it lived a very rough life. Money couldn’t by a parent’s love, the boys were taught to shoot and plan while the girls were prepped for a husband and a “perfect” life, it was a very classic lifestyle that wasn’t with the times – everyone knew that, but they kept traditions. Chanyeol had remembered a few years ago when a son of some syndicate under the Oh family had broken a marriage contract with another family and the turmoil it caused, turf wars and revenge riddled the syndicate for a while; he vividly remembers having to deal with a few stragglers than tried to side with the son. While Sehun didn’t agree with banishing the son, if he wanted to keep his business intact, he’d agree with whatever lined their pockets.

Baekhyun’s words were truthful but they were painful too, although he tried not to care – he could see the pain lining his eyes at the thought of his poor mother. But for some reason, his mind also drifted to you, you were as normal as it went, what was your life like? Your friends? Your parents? Did they miss you? Your face was all over the news at the moment as missing. It reminded Chanyeol that he grew up in normal, and still craved it time to time, chatting to you had granted him that small feeling normalcy he loved – and despite what Baekhyun said, you weren’t anyone to him, just a reminder of someone he knew. You weren’t permanent here, everyone knew that, but somehow Chanyeol could feel his heart clench at the thought of sending you back to your normal life – he enjoyed the feeling you gave him and it was selfish but if busting Byung-Chul took a long time, he’d gladly keep you here to keep chatting to him.

For a brief second, Chanyeol wondered if Sehun thought the same as him – the look he gave you twisting in his mind, he’d known Sehun for a long time and what he told you was true, you were alive by Sehun’s hand, he’d seen his boss shoot someone for lesser than what you’d done, so why were you alive? It took a mere few seconds for Chanyeol to realise he was still standing in the empty kitchen, and with a shake of his head, he looked at his watch with a sigh.

“Better sleep now before someone else tries to steal everyone’s time.”

Oasis was coated in a bath of red light, your position from under the bar hiding your quivering body—glass had fallen around you like deadly snow, the razor-sharp pieces glinting with the demonic light, small beams of red bouncing off them as they lay there coated in blood, puddles of it surrounding you. Screams were resonating out, their pain bouncing off walls and burrowing into your ears like a bad song as your shaky hands tried to block everything out, bangs following the screams before it killed off them.

You could feel the muscle in your chest jumping with the erratic beat of your heart, the force of your lungs trying to keep up your breathing sending you into a spiralling dizziness—everything was overwhelming to the senses, but all you could focus on was the noise, the noise and the sickly smell of metal that clung to everything; you didn’t know if it was gun power or blood, or both. Thoughts of your heart giving out before a gun could get you or it could stop plagued your mind for a few seconds, but it was a fleeting thought—as if someone cut the music, the screams stopped.

Your blood felt cold, like liquid nitrogen was flowing through your veins and seizing your muscles in an icy cramp, frozen in time. There were footsteps again, glass crunching under boots—but you were unarmed, nothing in your hands this time; and if someone changed the record, the whistling started. It was haunting, the hollow sound jumping in your ears and picking up to a sharp screech as it neared closer. Your hands were shaking, vibrating against your face where they tried to clutch onto what was left of your sanity.

It was closer now, someone was pushing broken glass off the bar behind you, shards falling into your vision like snow, the clunks dulled by the blood on the floor—it was horrific, your blood thrumming with the sheer thrill of being hunted. It was all too familiar, but instead of pointing a gun, you just had to take your punishment, and that was nearing closer. You could see it now, the shadow from the corner of your vision, your body was pulsating with fear as you avoided looking at him, a cold sweat gathering on your skin. He was like a demon from another realm, lurking beside your vision, haunting you—but if he was a demon, then by god he was a beautiful one. Your stare didn’t linger on him, you couldn’t look, but he saw you, his lithe body towering over you–the smell of something woody cutting through the surrounding metallic. He was close but you wouldn’t look, you couldn’t look. He stood in front of you now, long legs blocking your vision as a visible click of a gun rang out.

“I’ll shoot” His voice had a warp to it, but the deepness of it still hit your heart. He sounded pained, so much so you could feel a different emotion radiating from him.

You flinched when you felt something cold press to your temple; the chill running into your bloodstream and stealing the oxygen from your lungs; it was terrifying, but you still didn’t look at him—your eyes merely flicked up to stare at the weapon to your head before they closed.

You heard a shuddering breath.

BANG.

“Wakey wakey!” The door slammed open with a bounce on the wall, your cold sweaty body jumping up at the intruder, eyes moving a mile a minute before they settled on whoever busted into the room like there was a fire.

Baekhyun.

“Did our sleeping beauty sleep well?” He teased lightly, leaning against the now open door, looking a lot better than he did earlier but not by much, “Sorry your prince charming’s weren’t here to wake you up, Sehun and Chanyeol are busy” He winked as you stared at him in disbelief. 

“Prince Charming’s?” You thought to yourself, staring at him with your jaw slightly ajar. His smirk grew.

“Don’t tell me you’re a complete idiot,” He chuckled impishly, “To think, I thought you were smart”

“I’m not an idiot.” You snapped at him, snapping out of your shock in the process—you felt sick, your body still not recovering from everything. “And how can you call me an idiot when you got taken out by a piece of glass?” His eyes darkened slightly.

“You’re mouthy when you’re not scared,” He remarked with a scoff, before he looked at your face, “Weren’t you told to play nice? Or the big bad wolf will chew you out.” You rolled your eyes.

“I thought your boss was my ‘prince charming’?” You seethed out slightly, not even whiling to say his name.

Baekhyun hummed, “I said Sehun and Chanyeol, but nice to see who you were thinking about.” You gritted your jaw.

“Why are you here, I was sleeping?” You snapped slightly agitated with the man.

“They summoned you.” He said plainly, you raised an eyebrow at that.

“Summoned…?” You questioned.

“Sehun wants to see you,” Baekhyun rolled his eyes, “We’re having a meeting.” You could feel yourself seize up at the mention of his name.

“And if I don’t want to go,” You breathed, looking at Baekhyun, wishing that maybe Chanyeol was the one that came to collect you.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” Baekhyun mocked you slightly, “We can do this the easy way, or I can drag you down the stairs, your choice.” He shrugged, seemingly not giving much a shot about what you want.

“Why does he want to see me…” You asked, gnawing on your lip.

“Your guess is as good as mines, sweetheart,” Baekhyun sighed, looking very bored, “I don’t have all day, so decide before someone much scarier storms up here wondering why you’re wasting their precious time.” He quirked an eyebrow at you.

With shaking legs, you tossed the blanket you’d been laying with off your body – your indent in the mattress and the warmth you’d built up in there leaving with the item being tossed and your socked feet landing with a gentle thud on the carpet. The house was still freezing, your hands pulling your sleeves over themselves in an attempt to preserve the warmth. Baekhyun was keeping a close eye on you as you stood up, your stance looking pathetically timid for the first time since he’d first laid eyes on you.

“Are we going to get a move on?” He asked impatiently, tapping his watch for effect.

“Jesus,” You muttered, fixing yourself slightly before scurrying to the door, “You’re not going to zip tie me, are you?” You asked curiously standing next to him, he wasn’t much taller than you up close, but he was broader.

“Not as broad as Sehun,” You thought quietly, glancing at Baekhyun’s figure.

“Everyone is awake now, sweets,” He rolled his eyes, “Someone will shoot you before you could attempt to get away.”

You had a sly smile on your lips for once, “I didn’t think everyone was asleep the first time.”

Baekhyun made a noise at the back of his throat, something you registered as a disgruntled now, but he kept quiet—merely placing a hand on your arm before you were shoved out the door.

“Just get moving.” He said watching you stumble and catching yourself quickly, he left the door open as he followed you, nodding for you to walk.

It was quiet as you began your walk to Sehun’s office, the house still quiet as before but somewhere deep in the halls was quiet murmuring, the walls muffling anything resemblance of words and turning the noises into something that resembled ghosts in the walls. The walk to the office wasn’t a long one, Sehun opted to keep you close, but as you turned to walk to the door in sight, you felt a tug on your sweatshirt, Baekhyun’s grin flooding your vision.  

“Oh no, sweets,” He looked like the Cheshire cat, “We’re not going in there.”

“Where…” The words tumbled off your lips before you were cut off.

“It’s dinnertime, sweets” Baekhyun pushed you towards the stares, your disbelieving face looking over your shoulder to him, “Why don’t you join us.”

“Dinner?” You stuttered, the colour draining from your face. “You’re not going to poison me, are you?”

“Poison you?” Baekhyun’s laugh rang out into the empty foyer, the tinkering sound bouncing off the walls, “If we were going to kill you, we would have by now—we certainly wouldn’t have let you nap” He teased with a grin, walking down the stairs behind you.

The door was in sight.

But you wouldn’t run this time—Baekhyun probably had his gun on him and was probably more than willing to use it. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Baekhyun took a hold of your arm, his grip surprisingly gentle as he led you across the foyer to a set of double doors, the intimidating wood taunting you but the guards outside it taunting you more as they stared you down, they looked exhausted.

“Can’t have them thinking I can’t do my job,” Baekhyun leaned over and whispered in your ear, his warm breath hitting the side of your face, but you didn’t flinch, “Kid’s in this job can get cocky, just look like I scared you or something” You turned your face to look at him in disbelief, your faces close to where he looked down at your mouth before looking in your eyes with a cheeky look, his eyebrows dancing with his amusement.

“You’re insane…” You said with incredulity, your mouth dropping open slightly, but he only looked amused, giving you a wink before turning to the two men.

“Johnny.” Baekhyun nodded to the taller one before looking at the shorter one, “Taeyong.”

“Baekhyun,” They said in unison, looking at each other before Johnny spoke.

“I’m guessing you want to be let in,” Johnny said casually, toying with his higher up.

Baekhyun smiled, but he wasn’t amused, “If you’d be so kind”

“Why should we,” Johnny teased with a smirk.

“Because I’m your boss,” Baekhyun deadpanned.

“I thought Sehun was our boss,” Taeyong chimed in, smirking just as wide as Johnny, “And he didn’t mention you’d be having a guest with you.” It was the first time you’d seen Baekhyun look put out.

“Just let me in, the two of you” Baekhyun huffed, “You’re stopping a meeting from taking place.”

“Say please,” Johnny smirked widely, your eyes the size of plates as you watched the strange exchange.

“Please.” Baekhyun gritted out, his hand tightening on your arm a fraction.

Johnny and Taeyong looked at each other with a smirk before placing a hand on each doorknob, opening the doors in unison to show the inside of the room—glancing at the table that lay before you, you knew you were fucked. With a nudge Baekhyun ushered you into the room, your eyes scanning the 8 people that sat at the table, but your pupils zooming in on the man sat at the head of the table, looking less than pleased as he watched you stand before the table.

Sehun.

It felt like the world was sinking as everyone stared at you, Baekhyun at your side, and your eyes searched for comfort—the pupils flicking from Sehun to Chanyeol, the friendly giant passing you a small smile while he was sitting three seats down from Sehun’s right-hand side, a man you vaguely remembered sitting next to him. There were two people you didn’t recognise—a man and a woman, the latter sitting to Sehun’s left, staring you down with a look you couldn’t place. You could place the faces of Jongin and Xiumin, and the one you passed on the stairs when you escaped, and the face of the guy that sent you flying in the ally, but the mystery man was well… a mystery.

“Sit, please.” The man you vaguely remembered spoke to you, gesturing to the empty seat at the other head of the table, directly in front of Sehun.

Baekhyun sensed your hesitance, placing a hand on your back and shoving you slightly, the very quiet whisper of ‘Junmyeon’ on his lips, informing you of the man’s name. And with a Stumble you sat down in the chair, your hands gripping the wood tight as you looked around at everyone. Baekhyun was sat to your right, next to Jongin, and the mystery man to your left. It was quiet for a second before the latter of the one sitting next to you shoved his hand out to you with a small smile, your hand shaking slightly as you took his.

“Yixing.” He spoke softly, his name rolling off his lips like silk, “Nice to meet you.” He affirmed with a small shake.

“Y/N” You mumbled to him while quickly withdrawing your hand, he was handsome but even you knew handsome men couldn’t be trusted. Flicking your eyes back to the table, you were met with silence.

“Why am I here…” You asked slightly, brows furrowed, Sehun sat up straighter at that but it was Junmyeon that spoke.

“They have released your boss from custody,” He said like a diplomat, his hands folded on the table to build the image, “So now, we have to figure out what we will do with you.” You gulped at that.

“With me…” You repeated softly.

“But first,” Sehun cut in, looking between Junmyeon and yourself, his eyes cutting you deep, “I want to know what you know.”

“What I know?” You repeated like a stuck record, making the girl to Sehun’s left scoff.

“Listen to the girl,” She sniped in, “She can’t even form sentences, what makes you think that she knows anything? You took the useless bartender” She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair.

“Jeonghwa,” Sehun warned, not looking at her, “Enough.”

“I don’t know as much as you think I do,” You said with a sigh, “Jaewoo would have been the one to ask, he was like a son to Mr Gwan…” Jeonghwa looked at Sehun like she was right but he waved her off. “The bar,” Sehun began, folding his arms on his lap like a royal, “I need you to tell me if you saw anything different going on with the backroom, anyone lurking around it?”

You bit your lip while you thought for a second, “Yes.”

“When I started working there, I was told never to venture into the backroom, that nothing back there concerned me,” You began, locking eyes with Sehun, “That was nearly a year ago, but as of about 7 months ago I noticed strange men would come in periodically, always through the front door and left through the back, Jaewoo would just be finishing his shift and would escort them to the room—Mr Gwan was never around”

You looked around at the room to everyone looking at you as spoke.

“By the time I started my shift, they were already through the back doing whatever it is they were there for,” You sighed, “I tried to not ask, but I did one day and Jaewoo just brushed me off, told me they just picked up the dead drink stock we didn’t use but I knew it was a lie—the drink stock was kept in the loading bay at the back of the bar,” You nodded fidgeting at the silence.

“There was only one occurrence that Jaewoo wasn’t there when they came, I had covered his shift and they came that night, they had duffle bags with them this time, the bar was just closing, it was the only time they came late.” You glanced at Chanyeol for reassurance, “And it was one of the few times Mr Gwan was there, I had manned the bar the whole night while he was in their office but as soon as they came he immediately ushered me out and told me he’d clean up, it was one of the few times I got a proper look at their faces, it was always two of them that came.”

“What did they look like,” Junmyeon said with furrowed brows.

You thought back for a second, trying to remember their faces from a few months ago.

“They were both tall,” You said nodding, “One of them was taller than the other one, maybe about 6 feet – the shorter of the two had silver hair, they were both about mid-twenties…” You trailed off, as Jeonghwa hummed looking at you.

“Did you ever hear their names?” She cut in, staring you down.

“No,” You shook your head, “It was the first time I’d ever seen them up close, they approached me at the bar before Mr Gwan intervened and sent me off, but they said nothing to me.”

“Was it always those two?” Sehun asked, still staring you down.

You nodded, “Yes, at first there was a third one but after the second visit I never saw him again.”

“But,” You opened your mouth before biting your lip looking at Sehun, “They stopped showing up, they normally come in the same days every month but last week they were a no show, and Jaewoo looked a bit twitchy about it.”

“You never once went in there…?” Junmyeon asked, clearly trying to see if you were lying. You merely just nodded at that.

“Never,” You said, “The door had two padlocks on it, and I didn’t have the keys, trust me I was curious as anyone would be, there are no security cameras in there either, I checked…” You said a bit sheepishly.

“And you said nothing to anyone…?” Junmyeon looked a bit dumbfounded at your quietness.

“I told my friends that something dodgy was going on, but I told no one else about the backroom, it’s a shitty bar in a rougher neighbourhood they expected nothing else,” You said with a sigh, “I needed the money and after the first time they approached me I noticed a pay increase, I think Mr Gwan was paying me more to keep quiet.”

“How do we know that your boss isn’t paying you to lie to us?” Sehun asked, raising a brow at you and for the first time you stared him down.

“What do I gain from lying to you?” You asked curiously, “You shot my co-worker in the head if I knew anything that mattered id tell you, believe it or not; I enjoy living.” Sehun glared at you.

“I found nothing on the cameras,” The one that sent you flying in the ally spoke for the first time, trying to call you out but you shrugged.

“Mr Gwan and Jaewoo had access to the cameras, I snuck into the office one day to see if there was one for the backroom but I left after I found nothing, security had nothing to with me, I’m just a bartender,” You spoke honestly, “Be realistic if they had someone coming into the bar all the time for something less than legal do you think they’d keep the tapes?” You raised your eyebrow feeling bold, Baekhyun sniggered at that.

“Trust me, I was as curious as you,” You huffed, “The only other thing I could tell you if that the silver-headed one looked like he was in charge, I never saw him carrying the duffels”

Sehun didn’t comment on that but looked like he took it in, “As I said, your boss has been released”

“I’m aware,” You nodded, “I’m also aware the news thinks I have something to do with what you did to the bar,” You pursed your lips.

“Yes,” Sehun spoke, “That’s not exactly favourable but manageable” He was speaking plainly to you, a stark contrast to his earlier actions.

“What Sehun is saying,” Junmyeon spoke for his boss with a glare, “Is that we’re aware of the situation, but we’re dealing with it, and you know that you’re not the person we want,” He spoke to with a tone of understanding.

“So, what are we going to do about it?” Your eyebrow jumped looking at the man. It was bold of you.

“Without delving into too much detail,” Jongin spoke up, glancing at his boss, “We’re going to trade you off”

Your eyes widened as your voice raised, “Trade me off? What am I cattle?”

“We’re going to set up a meeting,” Chanyeol cut in, glaring at Jongin for his poor wording before looking at you a bit softer, “Between Byun-Chul and ourselves, we’re going to trade you off for him…”

“And what if he says no?” You said incredulously.

“Then we give him some...” Chanyeol trailed off trying to find the right words, but Junmyeon cut in.

“We give him an ulterior motive,” Junmyeon nodded, “One he can’t refuse”

“What?” You were panicked now, “You’re going to shoot him too?” Baekhyun kicked you under the table to mind your tone, but you didn’t care.

“Be lucky we didn’t shoot you,” Sehun snapped, “I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re not exactly needed in our plan, we could get to Byung-Chul without you.” You winced at his harsh words.

“Then why did you take me.” You hissed as everyone at the table watched you argue.

“Because we need information,” Sehun drawled back, “Your companion would have been useless, someone loyal to their boss would take too much effort to get information out of, you were the easier option,” You gritted your teeth.

“How do you know as once I get out that I won’t just go to the police?” You snapped, but you drew back when Sehun smiled.

“You’re dumb,” He began sounding nice before his voice dropped to a deadly tone, “But as you said, you enjoy living, you think about going to the police and I’ll make sure that seizes to be an option.” His tone was dark, so much so that your jaw dropped in astonishment, words dying on your throat.

The stare-off with him caused silence to fall over the table, your eyes locking with each other, and for the first time since you met him you saw something dancing in his irises—warning. Handsome men couldn’t be trusted but beautiful men shouldn’t be trusted and that’s exactly what Sehun was, a beautiful man, but you were stupid for a second to believe that you’d come out of this safe. The tension was building in the room between the two of you, but Junmyeon sought to cut it with a knife.

“Once we get what we want, you’re free to go,” He said with an edge to his voice, but it wasn’t directed at you, “The police will be no bother, we’ll handle that but for your safety…” He trailed off looking at you.

“We merely ask for your silence, you forget the last 24 hours, and everyone moves on.” You stared back at him with a look of disbelief.

“Forget everything…” You whispered, “I watched you shoot my co-worker in the head, I was dragged through the glass and drugged before I was kidnapped for no reason, I’ve lost my job and you want me to just forget everything…?” You asked with an edge to your voice.

“For the sanity of everyone here, yes that’s exactly what I’m asking.” Junmyeon didn’t leave much room for argument. Your eyes glanced at Chanyeol, who was refusing to look at you.

“What if I don’t want that?” Sehun was staring at you, but Baekhyun spoke up, looking at you.

“I don’t think you have a choice.” You gritted your teeth.

Chanyeol look particularly put out at the situation but you knew he’d never dare to say anything.

“What exactly has my boss done to you…” You asked quietly but curiously, Sehun hummed at that.

“That, sweetheart,” He began with a raised eyebrow, “Is none of your business.” You just shook your head again, looking at the table.

“Baekhyun,” Junmyeon spoke to cut the silence again, “Take our guest back to her room, we’ve got more to discuss.” Baekhyun just hummed in agreement, standing up.

You said nothing and looked at no one as you stood up, feeling put out by the situation. No goodbyes were uttered as you let Baekhyun lead you back to the door, wanting this situation to be long forgotten, but you couldn’t help but thing as you were escorted.

“Maybe it would have been easier if they just shot me.”

Sehun watched with a tense jaw as Baekhyun took you away, the man’s hand placed on your arm far too lightly for someone who was being kept captive, but he said nothing as he looked back around the table at all his brothers waiting for someone to speak.

“Well…” Junmyeon decided to be the first to speak, “That was eventful.” Sehun hummed.

“Not quite the word I’d use,” Sehun was a bit fed up himself, not that he’d let his brothers know that, “But at least we got something from her.”

“A whole lot of nothing,” Jeonghwa decided to speak, much to Sehun’s discontent, “She practically just confirmed what I told you” She stressed slightly.

“Why are you still here?” Sehun snapped slightly, as she looked at him slightly shocked.

“So she confirmed what you said,” Junmyeon raised an eyebrow at the two of them, trying to dissolve the oncoming storm, “At least we know what you said is solid evidence, but we still don’t know what exactly either of the men’s names are and what they want with our cargo.”

“Listen,” Jeonghwa rolled her eyes, her arms firmly crossed over her chest, “I told you everything, they’re some new gang on the scene, no one knows who they are or what they want, especially with your cargo, I don’t know why you thought questioning her would tell you what you want.” She huffed.

“She’s the only lead we have at the moment,” Sehun said darkly, tapping his ring on the armrest of his chair, “She also confirmed that this has been going on for months under our noses” Sehun looked at all of his brothers.

“We’ve gotten lazy,” He said tensely, “Lazy enough that some… Punk has come on the scene and stole over half a million dollars in drugs from one of our dealers.” He tsk’ed.

“I don’t think they stole them,” Chanyeol spoke up, “Byun-Chul has been doing some side trades with our supply, that’s calculated, if they were stealing anything, they would have hit the bar once and been done with it.”

“Chanyeol’s right,” Kyungsoo nodded, “From what I could find, they always appeared a few days after we shipped the goods to Byung-Chul, and they appeared during opening hours”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Junmyeon said shaking his head, “Byun-Chul had been loyal to us for years, what did they say to make him change his mind.”

“More like what did they offer him,” Minseok spoke up, “You said it yourself, he’s been loyal for years so what did they offer him?”

“Could you trace the bank account?” Sehun’s eyes flicked to Kyungsoo, who looked a bit annoyed.

“Nope,” He spoke honestly, “It was a solid encryption on the wire transfer, I could keep trying but it kept rerouting me and locking me out”

“So, they offered him money,” Sehun spoke honestly, “The girl said herself she got a pay increase after dealing with our mystery men”

“But how does a new gang get all that cash?” Chanyeol asked, “You said yourself that they were new, so how do they get that much in so little time? and how do they manage to get connected to Byung-Chul in the first place?” He turned to Jeonghwa who shrugged.

“Questions, questions, questions…” Sehun muttered, still tapping his ring on his chair, “I’m afraid that those will need to be answered by the man himself”

“How many syndicates have been hit again?” Sehun continued staring off into space.

“Four,” Junmyeon told him, “Four never received their shipments.”

“And it was just drugs?” Sehun asked again, thinking deeply.

“From what we know,” Yixing spoke up, “I was down at the docks yesterday, and everything is still there so we can rest assured that Dong-Yul isn’t in on it” Sehun hummed at that.

“For now,” He said with a vague notion of a doubt, “I do not doubt that something else will rear its head.”

“Then we’ll keep an eye on everything,” Jongdae spoke, “Converge with our contacts and dealers, make sure everything is in check.”

“Do we have time for that?” Jongin asked, “That’s a lot of people and clearly these mystery men knew something was up if they didn’t turn up to Oasis a few days ago.”

“I hate to be the one to say it,” Minseok tutted, “But inside job?” Junmyeon and Sehun looked at him.

“You think it was an inside job?” Jun asked, and Minseok made a noise at the back of his throat in agreement.

“As much as we’ve pissed people off over the years,” He began, “We haven’t had an attack on our territory in a very long time, the old syndicates are either under our wing or dead”

“So, you think someone we liaison with is behind this, knowing what would happen if they were caught?” Jun asked again.

“Listen, all I’m saying is that it’s possible.” Minseok raised his hands, “There’s always a bad apple of the bunch.”

“It’s not a foreign concept, Jun,” Sehun spoke up, “There’s a lot of people under us, someone is bound to hate the way things are”

“Fine, we won’t rule it out,” Junmyeon sighed, “Minseok, Jongdae, contact everyone you can – ask for a progress report and if anyone seems fishy send Baekhyun and Chanyeol to deal with them.” The addressed two nodded.

“Jongin,” Sehun addressed his undercover, “Go back to Oasis and scope out the area, talk to anyone that Byung-Chul dealt with and get a scope of what’s going on out there, if someone else is dealing our cargo I’d love to know.”

“Yixing,” Sehun looked at his oldest brother, “Go back to the docks and check everything out, ask if anyone has seen anything suspicious, if they hit us once they’re going to try again.” Sehun looked at everyone.

“We keep this quiet, don’t alert anyone that anything is going on, act like you’re just checking up – news spreads fast, we don’t need anyone else questioning anything” Sehun spoke with an edge to his voice.

“What about me?” Jeonghwa’s feminine voice cut through the series of agreements, Sehun looked at her blankly.

“You’re going to get in a car and go home, speak nothing of this to your father” Sehun deadpanned to his female friend, who looked annoyed.

“What, why?” She nearly screeched, “I’m the one who gave you the information.”

“Jeonghwa,” Sehun’s voice was stern, “You are not a part of this, now go home” The female merely looked at him before standing up, her chair knocking over with her, the wood bouncing on the rugged floor. The men watched as she stormed out, slamming the double doors open much to the fright of the guards on watch, the sound of her heels echoing away.

“She’s going to tell her father, isn’t she?” Jongdae watched with amusement.

“Probably…” Jun sighed, looking at Sehun, who for the most part looked unfazed by her dramatics.

“She won’t,” The boss hummed, “She enjoys my attention too much to jeopardise that.”

“What do you want me to do?” Chanyeol asked, the only one not being given a job.

Sehun sighed, “Stay with our guest, you’re the only one she likes and if we’re going to use her, we need her to be compliant.” Chanyeol furrowed his eyebrows at that.

“Right…” The redhead says with confusion to his voice.

“Oh, don’t complain,” Baekhyun’s voice entered the room again, “You enjoy it.” He teased much to Chanyeol’s shock.

“Baekhyun,” Sehun warned with a tone.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Baekhyun kept teasing as he sat back down, “He won’t steal her from you, we all seen the way you look at each other, I felt like I was intruding” He grinned leaning back in his chair.

“Baekhyun,” Jun cut in this time, “Cut it out.”

“No one lets me have fun around here.” The man huffed.

“Now isn’t the time for fun,” Chanyeol bit back, annoyed with his friend.

“We need to talk about how we’re going to get Byung-Chul.” Junmyeon started, looking at the pair of them.

“I’ll deal with it.” Sehun spoke, looking at his right-hand man, “Do what I told you to, leave Byung-Chul with me.”

“You’re joining the heist?” Junmyeon looked a bit shocked.

“Is there a problem with that?” Sehun raised his eyebrow, Jun shook his head.

“No, it’s just I thought you’d leave it to us…” Junmyeon spoke honestly, Sehun rolled his eyes.

“This is my business, if someone is tampering with it, I’ll be the one to deal with it.” Everyone looked at each other at that statement.

It wasn’t that Sehun left his men to do the work, it’s just the boss only really got involved with serious matters; it’s something Sehun’s father had instilled in all of them and they stuck to. Sehun knew how to do the job, he’d been doing it since he was a teenager, but it rare that he’d join them on heists anymore – a shiver running down a few of their spines at the last time he did. Since his father’s death, Sehun tried not to bloody his hands too much, he had been there on the night that his father died – the memory ringing strong in some of their heads. Most of them tried to repress it, but a few of them; like Baekhyun, who got a first-person shot of Sehun caving in the head of his father’s shoot, remembered it vividly. Sehun, for the most part, was a composed man, never really getting angrier than a snap, but Baekhyun remembered the red in his boss’ eyes has Sehun just kept hitting and hitting the man – Sehun wasn’t always a killer, he was a grieving son at that moment, but the damage was done. They had all done horrible things, but the brutality of using your fists stuck with Baekhyun.

“Okay…” Junmyeon nodded, “We’ll get to planning.”

“Then it's settled,” Sehun nodded looking at his men, “Do your jobs and we’ll talk again soon, I expect the heist to be as soon as possible.”

A chorus of ‘yes boss’ rang through the dining room as they all began to get on with their assigned tasks, the screeching of chairs also filling the room – Baekhyun stayed seated though, glancing around at everyone as they left, everyone asides Junmyeon and Sehun.

“I’m guessing you’ll need my help?” Baekhyun turned his head to glance at his superiors.

“Something like that…” Junmyeon said tensely. “How quickly can you prepare the warehouse?” Baekhyun smirked at the idea of getting a bit fun.

“Consider it already started”

It had been about two days since the meeting now, and since the very moment you left the room you had been mostly alone, cooped up in your room like some prisoner of war. In a way you sort of were, you were a prisoner of a gang war at least, but you weren’t sure what to expect after Baekhyun brought you back to your room, but you at least hoped that someone would maybe inform you of things, but what you wanted and what you were given were two very different things. It had been a series of monotony for you; you were given your meals at the same time every day by the same person, Chanyeol – who had decided to strike up a conversation whenever he entered the room, not that you graced him with any responses.

It was difficult to ignore the tall man, he did bring a sense of comfort to the room and your stay here – always making sure you ate and that you had things you needed, he went out of his way to bring you books to read and more blankets since Sehun didn’t like the house too warm. He was a comforting presence but not even that could save you from this place. No one else had seen you, not that you expected them too, but you were always on edge; Sehun had been quiet after his little spat with you, he hadn’t tried to toy with you or anything, he left you alone like everyone else and you somewhat releveled in the peace.

Until tonight.

It was silent in the house as per usual but as the night drew closer you could feel something shift in the house, Chanyeol hadn’t been with your dinner yet and there hadn’t been a single sound outside the door; although it was often quiet you were used to people walking around outside, patrolling the house but today? Nothing. It was unnerving and what was even more unnerving was when there was eventually a sound, it wasn’t anything you’d expect.

Horror registered on your face as the door to the room you’d occupied over the last couple days slammed open – a very blank looking Baekhyun and Jongin standing in the space; they were kitted out in all black, thick leathers and tough denim covering their body, they looked intimidating. Baekhyun was a far cry from the playful idiot you’d had seen before, his eyes holding something to them as he spoke.

“Shoe’s on, take whatever you need to keep warm, we’re leaving.” He spoke to you with an edge to his voice.

“Leaving?” You asked lightly, placing the book you were reading down, “As in right now? Where are we going?”

“I didn’t ask for questions,” Baekhyun sniped, “Get a move on.”

Keeping an eye on the two of them, like they were doing with you, you pulled the shoes that you first came here in on; making quick work of lacing the boots up, you noted how you were only wearing a sweatshirt and baggy pants, making quick to grab the jacket you’d stolen of the bar owner off the chair you tossed it on. As soon as you looked ready to go, the two men grabbed both of your arms in a tight hold, a noise being let out of your throat as you were dragged from the room. Nothing was said as you were dragged to the stairs, a hardened Chanyeol standing at the bottom of them, watching his brothers manhandle you; eventually, you were dragged down the winding stairs and dumped in front of Chanyeol who looked down at you with an unreadable expression.

“Be quick,” Baekhyun said, looking at his brother, “Jongin and I will get the card ready, do what you need to do” You were confused at that, but Chanyeol merely nodded keeping an eye on you, he waited till they were out the door to speak.

“I’m going to be very quick; we don’t have a lot of time.” Chanyeol said, “You’re going to get in the car outside with Baekhyun and Jongin without a word and they’re going to take you somewhere.” Before you could ask where he beat you to it.

“Warehouse in a remote location, doesn’t exactly matter where, you won’t be there long,” He was firm with you, “You’ll go without a fuss okay? Once you’re there, some stuff is going to happen – you’ll be safe, but I need to ask something of you.”

“What…” You were quiet as you looked him in the eyes.

“You to do as your told, tensions are high at the moment and although you will be safe, I don’t want you to risk it, you speak when you’re spoken to and you keep quiet, am I clear?” You just looked at him in shock and a slight amount of fear, “I said, am I clear?” He snapped at you, making you quickly nod at him.

“Great,” He nodded, “Wrists out.” You gaped at him

“Why?” He only rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrists, the first time he’d touched you without asking, you noticed he was wearing leather gloves.

You watched and struggled as he secured two zip ties around your wrist, the plastic tight around your skin as you pulled at them. “Chanyeol,” You said softly, “What the hell is going on.” You demanded from him. But like everything else, you were ignored, his eyes flicking past you as your arm became grasped in his hand, pulling you along like a toy.

Outside was a different story, there was half the number of cards in the front than there was before, the lot looking very empty since you’d last seen it; waiting at the bottom of the stairs was Baekhyun, the car behind him on and ready to go, and you watched with passive eyes as Chanyeol tugged you down the stairs, before shoving you at Baekhyun, the man catching you just in time. He made an “oomph” sound as you collided with him.

“I’ll see you at the location,” Chanyeol spoke tensely, clearly all business as he stalked off to a card at the side; your eyes focusing enough to see Minseok in the passenger seat.

Looking behind you to Baekhyun, the man stared down at you; his arms still firmly grasping you, nothing was said but he nodded at you, pushing you away from him slightly so he could open the door to the back of the car. He was surprisingly gentle, pushing the back of your head so you could get in, glancing at you slightly while buckling your seat belt. Jongin was the one driving this time, his own eyes flicking into the mirror to look back at you; an air of pity almost dancing in them but it was quickly masked when Baekhyun got into the front seat.

“Drive,” He said immediately, looking down at his watch.

Your stomach and car lurched forward at the same time, the bubbling of worry dancing in your gut as the bile you thought you’d suppressed clawed its way up your throat – there was no noise par the engine in the car, the men in front making sure to keep it as silent as possible, not that you’d try to break that what was going on. Jongin was driving well over the speed limit, the feeling of the pressure from it building in your chest; your hands grasping each other tightly. Baekhyun was constantly checking his phone, the two of them also kitted out in leather gloves. 

“Strange,” You thought with furrowed brows, “Why has everyone got gloves on”

It was a question that would go unanswered, your eyes flicking to the window to try and get an idea of where you were going, sadly you didn’t know much about this side of the city; plus night time had fallen on the land, making everything looked warped in the passing car windows.

It was like this for what felt like an hour, just silence in the card, and the men in the front looking like they were having a conversation with themselves in their head, it was so quiet to the point that after spacing out, you found yourself drawn back into the world with the ringing of a phone. Your body jumping in fright as you watched Baekhyun lift the device to his ear.

“Hello,” He said gruffly, the sound of someone else on the other end being muffled by his head, “Yeah yeah… We’re almost there.” He snapped slightly, his eyes flicking to meet yours in the rear-view mirror.

“She’s behaving,” He said while looking at you, “Chanyeol gave her his usual talk, she’s tied and ready to go.” Your eyebrow drew down at that.

“Ready to go where…?” You thought.

“How long?” Baekhyun moved the phone from his ear to his shoulder to talk to Jongin.

“GPS says six minutes,” Jongin replied, head twitching to look at the dashboard.

Baekhyun relayed the message to however was on the phone before hanging up, his eyes looking at you again.

“Remember what Chanyeol said,” Baekhyun spoke directly to you, “Keep quiet and do as you’re told.” You nodded in fright, clearly shaken at the fact that you had no idea what was going on.

With a held breath, you watched at the car took a sharp turn behind a corrugated warehouse, the two men reaching to their necks to pull what looked like black ski masks over the bottom of their faces; the only thing on show being their eyes and hair. The headlights of the car made out a silhouette in the front windshield, the body standing sharply as they made a turn at the last second, the person now standing in front of your passenger door. Looking out at them you noticed that they had a ski mask on as well, your eyes being able to tell that it was Junmyeon, he had the same passive look like the rest of the men. You felt the wind get knocked out of you as he opened your door, much like he did two days ago, but this time he grabbed your arm and yanked you out the car; your body falling with him, your knee scraped on the concrete below but you were hastily pulled to your feet. Baekhyun had gotten out the car, with Jongin staying in the driver’s side, the vehicle jetting off as soon as you were out, Junmyeon’s hand making quick work of slamming the door.

Silence was still a constant between the men, Baekhyun and Junmyeon merely nodding at each other as you were pulled off by the latter; he was about as gentle as Baekhyun was and in no time were you being pull towards the doors of the warehouse, your heartbeat thrumming so loud in your ears that you were surprised the whole city didn’t hear it. You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you entered the rotting building but a solo chair sitting in the middle of the drab warehouse wasn’t it, and you started shaking slightly as Junmyeon showed no sign of stopping.

The chair was for you.

You started to struggle the closer you got to the chair, but the man’s hand merely tightened on your arm, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper, much different to the tone he had before.

“Behave.” He snapped, shoving you to sit down, you watched in horror at him brandishing a knife at you, but you only flinched when he reached for your zip ties, cutting the plastic to reveal the raw skin underneath.

For a brief second, you thought they’d leave to sit like that while they watched you, but you grunted at the feeling of someone grabbing your arms from behind; forcing them behind the chair, where you felt another set of zip ties secure around your wrist, this time tighter than before, you were secured to the chair completely now. Looking up in horror you watch as Junmyeon stood up from in front of you, nodding at whoever was behind you, and you flinched as you felt a gloved hand wrap around your throat from behind to tilt your ear up, a shiver passing through you as lips pressed close to your ear.

“In about 4 minutes,” You recognised Sehun’s tone, the silk voice floating from his mouth to your ears and down your neck, “Your boss is going to walk through that door in front of you, and when he does, I need you to stay quiet, am I clear?” His voice was a few octaves lower than usual, but it didn’t scare you, merely sent shivers rolling down your spine, when you took too long to answer though, he pulled your neck closer to him.

“I said,” He tensed to you, the heat from him radiating onto your back, “Am I clear?” You merely nodded.

“Good, now keep it down and don’t fuck this up.” He warned you before he let go. You couldn’t see his face, but you imagined he looked like the rest of the men around you.

With eyes trained to the door, you watched as headlights filtered through the small windows on the entrance; the warm light doing the most to light up the dark warehouse, making you wince with their intensity. A car door could be heard outside as the lights were left on, the sound of feet on gravel making your heart speed up for some reason – this was the first person you’d seen in days. The taste of metal flooded your mouth as you kept biting down on your lip, watching with an intense state as the doors to the warehouse opened, normally you’d hate to see the man, but the sight of your boss coming through the door had you slumping in the chair slightly.

Mr Gwan, or Byung-Chul as he was also known by, was a man who looked a world older than what he really was; at the tender age for 46, he passed for someone in their late 50s - his salt and pepper hair and his crow’s feet doing nothing for him. But right now, he looked the oldest you’d ever seen him, the stress of the last few days taking a toll on him, and you were the one that was kidnapped.

“Byung-Chul.” Sehun’s hardened voice sounded from behind you, making the man stop in his tracks, he was about 8 feet away from you in the chair, “How nice of you to join us.”

“Sehun,” Mr Gwan nodded tensely, before looking at you, “I see you brought a guest.” Sehun laughed at that, but there was no humour behind it.

“Yes, you bartender has been a lovely addition to my home,” Sehun drawled in a mocking tone, “But having you around would have been much better, we could have had a lovely chat about things.”

“There’s nothing to discuss.” Mr Gwan gulped slightly, eyes flicking from yourself to behind you.

“See,” Sehun stared with a tsk, “I think there is.” Mr Gwan stayed silent.

“I’m going to give you two choices, Gwan.” Sehun continued, “You come with us whiling and we have a little chat about what’s gone on or…” Sehun paused, your eyes widening as you felt something press to the back of your head.

“I use this lovely gun that was sitting in your office on our friend here,” Sehun hummed as you started shaking, the barrel pressing more into your head making your eyes flick to Mr Gwan, “You’ve already been busted once in the last few days, do you really want to add murder to that?” Sehun explained simply.

“You can’t do that…” Mr Gwan sounded shocked.

“Actually,” Sehun tutted, “I think I can, you’re not the only one doing some less than legal deals in the city.”

“So,” Sehun started again, “What will it be?” Your chest was heaving with fear as your eyes darted around, it made it so much worse now that you couldn’t see the weapon putting pulled on you.

Byung-Chul was quiet, this only made Sehun clock the gun.

“You only have a few minutes, Gwan.” Sehun taunted him, “I’ve got some friends on the way who wouldn’t like how this could go down.” You felt like you were going to pass out.

“You wouldn’t” Mr Gwan grumbled out, “She’s just a bartender, she means nothing to this.”

“Are you willing to test that?” Sehun drawled, knocking your head forward with the gun, but his second question was directed at you.

“Do you want me to shoot you, sweetheart?” Sehun asked with false niceties in his voice.

“Speak when spoken to” Echoed in your head.

“No.” You tensed out through gritted teeth, the muscle in your jaw jumping with the words.

Mr Gwan looked slightly torn, his eyes flicking from you to Sehun, but he didn’t look like he was going to save you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Shoot her.” Mr Gwan gulped out, making your body seize up – a choked sound leaving your mouth in shock.

“If only it was Jaewoo here” You seethed in your head.

Immediately you braced yourself for the inevitable, your eyes clenching in fear as you tucked yourself away from the person who just told a gang of men to kill you, there was a brief second of silence before a scream passed your lips.

BANG.

Your body lurched forward as the sound of ringing took over your right ear, you expected pain for a second but you were stunned, nothing came, it was until you heard the sound of a laugh and the scream of a man that you forced your eyes open; crouched on the floor grasping his knee was Mr Gwan, his furious eyes looking at you as he groaned in pain.

“The wrong choice,” Sehun laughed, it wasn’t a humoured laugh but more like a darkly amused one, but you could barely hear him over the lough ringing in your ear, the fact he had shot an actual gun so close to your head making you shake. It wasn’t a blank this time, he actually could have shot you.

You watched with erratic breaths as Chanyeol and Baekhyun hoisted the injured man up not even passing you a glance, yanking him up like he was a sack of nothing; he was wailing in pain but you didn’t care as you closed your eyes, trying to focus on anything else.

A hand being placed on your shoulder had you jumping again though, the hand taking the liberty to pull you up from your crouched position on the chair, your jaw was trembling as you felt lips next to your ear again.

“Sorry about this,” Sehun spoke gruffly, and for a second you tried to understand what he meant but you went into full panic mode at the feeling of a plastic bag being placed over your head, a scream gargling in your throat as you felt the tightness of it being tied around your neck making shed a couple of tears. You tried to scream at him to get you out of this but every breath you took in had the plastic filling your mouth, you were going to suffocate.

There were noises of Sehun calling out orders, sounds of people hastily leaving the premise, they were going to leave you here to die.

“Please.” You sobbed, “Please take this thing off,” No one listened.

It was like time was moving in slow, the sound of blood rushing to your ears as you tried to regulate out your breathing, there was the last few shouts in the room before silence fell on it.

They left you here to die.

The more you tried to calm down the more breaths you took, and the less oxygen was in the bag – you were going into full panic mode. Sehun didn’t even have the decency to shoot you, all he did was shove a white plastic bag over your head and leave you to suffer a more painful death; suffocation.

There was a layer of condensation building up in the bag as you started to feel dizzy, the blood rushing around your head like a waterfall made it hard to concentrate – your head lulled forward like a ton of bricks were laying on the back of your skull, pushing you down. Your ears picked up a sound in the distance and in your delirium, you started yelling softly.

“Help…” You strained out, muffled by the bag.

“HELP” You tried again, louder than before; it took a few seconds to register but the sound of sirens pulling up had you pulling on your ties.

Within seconds there was the sound of numerous footsteps and something yelling.

“Police! open up” The unknown voice yelled out, you screamed back in response; you heard the mumbling of a swear before the voice spoke again.

“Officer Jeon,” They spoke, “Get that thing off her head.”

There was the sound of rushing footsteps and you flinched when you felt hands on your skin, but there were only there briefly before they grasped the front of the bag, tearing it open. You could feel your hair sticking to your face from the condensation in the bag, and your eyes winced slightly as you tried to adjust to the bright light shining in your face – but the eventually focused on the young man in front of you who look concerned, his hands touching your face trying to get you to focus on him.

“Come on sweetheart, breathe with me, you’re okay now.”

[wthtorke]

Honorbound -Oneshot- (Commission)

Life was lonely, as he intended it to be. A worn, wandering warrior with the weight of his battle scars exhausting his soul, stopping from village to village, living from the very soil that his horse trotted on. Little were the things he still had possession of. His horse, his sword, and the very scrape that was left of his honor, each battle and happening seemly chipping away at it, as it did to his will to go on. 

Word got to him in one of the villages that several honored warriors came to an abrupt end in a clearing. Their bloody robes and sometimes sword shards were the only proof that they were defeated by someone. The families grieved and every time, a new warrior would stand up to the challenge, arming up and setting to the very same clearing, only to be found days later by barking dogs and gasping children. 

At first, he wasn’t impressed. Cocky warriors died every day, thinking themselves to be great and undefeatable only to stare in horror as the blade that sealed their fate came down upon them. But something was different this time. No one knew who was behind all the murders. It couldn’t be the foreigners with their guns and powders, there were no holes in the bodies they found, what they found was much worse.

The bodies were often missing the head and the spine and when the head and spine were not taken, the sword was gone, a complete disgrace. Taking a fallen warrior’s sword was asking to be cursed for life.

So he decided to ask around, not like he had anything better to do other than to wait for his death. Coming across a child that swore to see a red demon on a tree close to the clearing. ‘Big’, ‘Ugly’, and ‘With fangs pointing out of its mouth’. Now, he figured most demons probably looked like that, but it was the ‘it mimicked me’ that reminded him of a very old tale, a summer horror story, one his very grandmother told him every time he refused to come inside for the night, saying that old demons would snatch him and carry him off into the darkness, disappearing forever.

It sounded dumb. Stupid, even. To go after the very same place where at least five other warriors had perished. He once had judged himself to be a good warrior, quick moves, fast-thinking, and deadly strikes. Now his shame made him heavy on his feet, the regrets in his chest making it hard to breathe sometimes. He only drew his sword to tend to it, to make sure it was in pristine condition, ironically. 

He thought about turning his back and keeping going with his pointless journey. To once again just leave it behind him. He was no better than any of the warriors that fought and died.

But fate was against him, it seemed. 

On his way out, from up a tree, a glint caught his eye. But it was no ordinary glint.

The light seemed to catch up on whatever magic that demon used, trying to reveal to the world that pure evil was walking on its very ground, unnoticed.

But not by him. 

The child had not lied. The demon was massive from what he could tell from the shifting form. It's eyes flashing a yellow glow before it vanished completely from sight, either jumping to another tree or just disappearing. No shifting, no sound, nothing.

It was taunting. Of course, to kill and to lure yet another imbecile to its trap, sounded every bit like a demon.

Making a decision, he asked the families just where exactly was the clearing.

-

Five tokens of his kills hung on the wall of his ship. Three skulls with their spines perfectly attached to them and two swords. 

At first, his clan didn't really understand his objective here. The will to learn and to adapt going far deeper than just hunting different races of humans. 

Out of every race on this wretched planet, he respected these more. He watched as they taught their children to be honored. To fight with respect and bravery. To know when you're defeated and when to strike. 

Things they had taught them themselves once.

While most motherships hovered above hot countries in the south. Two distinct clans took home in the Orient. Both clans despised each other greatly, going as far as to keep away from one another in order not to harm the still learning human population. His clan chose the islands known to humans as 'Wa', which would later become 'Nippon'. 

It had been centuries, of course. The humans had forgotten them just as they had forgotten the filthy beings that first generated them, who cowered in their home planet. When the clans decided to abandon Earth at once, so did the two clans. Leaving everything behind, only coming back rarely to hunt, forming the only negative memory of being demons to beings some of them actually came to love.

He'd heard everything about humans, he knew other races and even had trophies of some of them. Hunts so boring and forgettable that sometimes he caught himself checking just from where that skull was from. It was ridiculous.

But not here. He was having the time of his life here. And he might be having even more fun soon, it seemed. 

He knew human badbloods existed and were total scum. Waking trash.

But what he did not really see coming was a bad blood that….Wasn't really a bad blood.

He'd been observing when the warrior had come, his horse tiredly walking into the village. He looked out of place. His clothes were old, but not unkept like his beard. Humans had a different kind of 'beard' than yautjas had, and with the time, he could tell the difference between a cared for beard and one that was just a rat's nest on someone's face. 

Disgusting. 

So he did not belong there, or anywhere, it seemed. He carried a sword that he could also tell was in good form. Good. Another match, perhaps.

While badbloods were to be taken out quickly from life, he found himself weirdly curious about this one. He had the same instance and breathing of clan leaders. Tired, exhausted from years of making decisions but still carrying on nonetheless. It was puzzling. Humans did not live that long to live this type of experience. But that one apparently did.

You could say he was angry when after hearing about all the murders and happenings, the human just walked off with his slightly rested horse.

But it wouldn't do. No.

Despite being well over a youngblood's age, he sure acted like he was one. Taunting his prey from up a tree, daring him to come forth and challenge him. 

You could also say he was more than satisfied when it worked. The human walking right back to the widowed women to ask where the battles had supposedly happened.

He practiced harder that night, his blade extra sharp, wielded with much more precision and care than the first time he touched it. His style bettered with each battle, his adaptation proving to be, yet again, perfect. 

Words could not describe would eager he was for his next battle.

-

You may have fought before, many times even. But surely never with a Demon. He had not.

Unsheathing his blade felt bittersweet. Wielding it felt rusty, almost. But the tingling in his fingertips was still there, the rush of the blood in his veins as he breathed in and out, remembering every move, every technique, every battle he had both won and lost.

Sharp as your blade maybe, it won't fight for itself, your mind must be just as sharp and deadly as your weapon, he came to learn. Raw potential was nothing without guidance.

Closing his eyes, the wind hustled the trees around him, going into the general direction where he was told the clearing was. Almost luring him there, to his death, like it had done to the others before him. He was no different, no better. And yet, he'd face the challenge. Fight for people he didn't know, against something that wasn't natural, not from this world.

At dawn, he left his horse in the village, striding into the dense forest, armed with his sword and nothing else.

1400

He walked for what felt like forever, feeling his back burning under someone's gaze. The hairs of his neck stood on end, every instinct in his body told him to leave while he still could, foolish. He had doomed himself the minute he decided to ask about the funerals, the minute he decided to rest at that village. There was no escape. Only forth, only future, whatever might it hold for him.

Reaching the clearing, he knew he was in the belly of the beast when he saw the remnants of the past battles that took place there. The dried blood in the grass, the blade shards here and there along with some bushes cut the way only a speeding katana would slice into. The trees had similar cuts to their barks, scratches that looked like a dragon had nested in this area for years.

His mouth closed again when he heard the growling coming from everywhere and nowhere at all, his hand instantly going to the hilt of his sword, searching the trees as the clicking sound circled him from the shadows, teasing him, trying to instill fear into his heart and soul. He could see past it.

It wasn't long until a loud thud snapped his attention to his front, a few feet ahead, he watched as the Demon decided to show itself. It's skin slowly materializing itself into view as it switched from the astral plane into the mortal one to fight him. 

It was surprisingly as the child described. Big, red and ugly. It's jaws spreading to reveal sets of sharp tusks as it roared, the birds that hid from them flying off in desperation.

Studying it, his eyes fell to something unexpected. A blade that might have looked like his, only it was corrupted by the creature's evilness, twisted into dangerous ridges, made to maul and bleed instead of clean slicing and striking.

Disgraceful.

He scowled, not holding back his disgust at the sight, the Demon snarling right back to him before lifting his blade and getting into battle stance as he did the same.

Long seconds passed as his breathing fell into place with the rhythm he would set when fighting, staring into the creature's eyes, piercing yellow like the fires of the underworld that it would try to drag him into.

But it wouldn't work.

Taking a sharp breath, he lunged forward, his sword aimed at the beast's arm as he went. Said beast roared again, meeting him halfway through the blow, swords locking as he felt the impact of the greater body coming at him, his right foot digging into the dirt with sheer force to keep his balance. 

So close to it, he noticed it wore a necklace made of fabric, braided into loops around its thick neck. He frowned as he pushed back with all he had, the demon grunting as it forced back into him.

Realization downed him when he caught it looking at his sword sheath, the braided cords that tied it to his belt. Eyes snapping back to its necklace, he recognized the pattern in them, the different colored loops belonging to different victims.

Trophies. It collected trophies.

The scream that ripped from his throat was out before he could stop it, forcing the creature to back off as he all but swung his weight on it, their blades sliding free from one another as he lunged again, grunting his effort as he managed to block the Demon's counterattack, missing his eye by an inch, he panted as he felt his arms begin to burn from the sheer force the beast pressed him down with, its muscles bulging as it snarled at him, tusks dangerously close to his face.

He grunted as he turned, sweeping low as the creature's blade whizzed past his head, his own blade finding its calf and slicing it open, bright, green blood painting the grass under them and a perfect line on his sword.

He took the opportunity to jump back and gain space as the Demon roared its pain, eyes set on him as it lunged blindly in rage at him. 

His sore arms not resisting the impact on time, he felt the searing cut as his right shoulder almost gave out under the pain, his face scrunching up as he couldn't afford to close his eyes in pain.

He looked up to see the creature's almost smug expression as it retracted its blade, piercing it forward again, aiming for his chest, for his heart.

He sucked in a gasp as he forced his legs to give out under him, dropping his body to the ground like a rag doll, the blade sinking into the ground dangerously next to his eye. 

The Demon's eyes widened as he tensed to pluck the blade from the ground, the warrior already moving again, his blade slicing the beast into its right side, under its first rib, green blood once again oozing out of it as it struggled to keep its balance, it’s free clawed hand coming to clutch its side while still trying to fight him with the other. 

Still, in the rush, the warrior rolled to the side, feet turning as his legs worked to get him up straight again, robes dirty with green strands from both grass and green blood, his own shoulder tainted red with his own clotting blood. His breathing was heavy as he got in stance again, shoulder squaring, wincing as he felt the wound ripping open again, even more blood coming out of it. But it was either his shoulder or his life and between them, he chose life.

Before the creature could process swinging at him again, he lunged. Face scrunched up in anger, fists firm around the sword's handle as he dived into the beast, blade cutting it through the chest downwards to its belly, the hard spikes it had there being cut off like wood chips out of tree bark.

His blade moving down and out, he spun again, stepping back to have the creature in full view as it finally lost its balance and kneeled, its legs giving out as the green blood soiled more and more of the ground under it.

He could hear the blood rushing through his veins, the ringing in his head crisp and clear as he struggled to control his breathing, eyes never leaving the demon. 

Precious seconds passed before the creature tried getting up again, to no avail. Its arms and legs shook as it tried using its sword as support to get up.

He steadied his hands again and took a step closer to it, not sure of what to do. End it? Spare it? Could demons be spared? Could demons die?

He jerked back slightly as the demon roared at him, clearly angry for being outmatched. He frowned, taking another step forward as the creature bent over again, the thick dreads falling over as it stared at the ground, he pointed the blade at the beast, opening his mouth to speak to it, not really knowing if it understood him or not when its left hand whipped up and gripped his chest, claws sinking in on his robes and all but tearing the skin of his chest apart, leaving hot bloody trails behind as the claws closed in on his robes. He yelled as he was pulled forward, his foot straining against the ground as he refused to buckle. 

Staring into the flaming eyes of the beast, he would not become another string on its necklace. 

The warrior growled as he brought the hilt of the sword up, connecting it to the creature's face three times as its grip loosened on his robes, bringing his knee up the Demons jaws, making its head snap back up, eyes disoriented briefly as it shook its head, looking up to find the warrior already on his feet, his blade ready to sink into his head anytime.

"You have lost." The warrior said, voice firm and unwavering as if his chest wasn't almost ripped open and the gashing wound on his shoulder didn't exist. "Take your leave of this village or perish by my hand." He finished, tone as sharp as the feel of his weapon. 

The demon cackled, taking a few more breaths, wheezy and wobbly as it got up, stumbling slightly as it clutched its right side, blood oozing through its fingers. 

The warrior wasn't sure if it had understood him as it reached for something in the back of its belt, pulling a dagger that was an otherworldly shape. He braced himself for a final attack when the thing laughed again, holding the dagger out in its open hand. 

'..ta'Ke iT', it said, voice raspy and breathy. 

The warrior narrowed his eyes, thinking it to be another trick from the demon, deceiving and dirty. He didn't move, still in battle stance as the beast roared, clearly regretting it as its grip tightened on its side briefly, hand coming up again as it frowned harder.

'Ta'ke', it hissed and the warrior stepped forward, hand cautiously coming to meet the demons own, grabbing the dagger from it, inspecting it quickly, sword still pointed at the creature.

'De' feat' It croaked, its blade retracting as it did. Pointing next to the trees behind him, 'Go', it said, 'Su'mm er, re' turn', it growled, pointing at the warriors head, 'Ta'ke'. 

The warrior merely huffed, "I'll be waiting, now vanish, Demon." He snarled. The Demon chuckling before turning on its heel and walking into the forest, its skin shifting into the forest's skin once again. .

“I’ll be waiting”, he repeated, sheathing his sword.

-

This Oneshot was commissioned and the buyer kindly allowed me to post it! Just an example of the kind of work I can do ;) Hope yall like it!

https://ko-fi.com/wthtorke My ko-fi in case anyones feeling generous and wants to help a broke college student lmao

[bookandcranny]

Beatrice - Chapter Two

“We parted on difficult terms. He had some ideas that… challenged my sense of professional integrity. I told him I was out and, well, men like that don't tend to handle rejection too gracefully.

All I know of him after that point is that he ran into some health problems and was forced to step down from his position. It may seem cruel but I think the world is better off for it. Rappaccini is no more qualified to treat the human body than I am to teach a dance class.”

Students filed into the corridor, too busy rushing to their next destination to take note of the visitor as she slipped into the lecture hall. Branching off from the main room itself was a small office, and inside, a lone professor plugging attendance data and homework grades into a blocky desktop computer. Gianna waited until the last lingering students dispersed before announcing herself with a knock on the doorframe.

The professor looked up. “Well look who it is.” She adjusted her glasses and squinted at the figure before her, taking all of her in from the spots of dribbled varnish on her shoes upward. “And who is it who stands before me? Not Virgil’s little girl.”

“I actually go by Gianna these days. Or Ms Alexander if you’re feeling formal,” she said wryly, though not without affection. 

Her face broke out in a grin that deepened the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She unhooked her cane from the arm of her chair and stood. “The last time I saw you, Gianna, you were half-- no, a quarter of your height and missing your front teeth. Time is a funny thing, isn’t it.”

“You’re telling me, Dr Bagnol.”

“Call me Petra. Or Professor if you’re feeling formal.” She winked and patted her arm. “We are colleagues of a kind now, aren’t we? I think you’ve earned the privilege.”

“I don’t know about that. You’re a biochemistry teacher and I fuss around with cotton swabs.”

“Technicalities! Don’t sell yourself short. You know, your father called just recently and when he told me you were going to be working here, I thought he was going to burst a lung the way he wouldn’t stop singing your praises.”

Gianna blushed at that.

“Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t set your sights higher than our humble university. I heard you were studying in Naples for a while.”

“I guess I was feeling homesick. Then I moved back in with my parents for a while and soon it was the opposite feeling.”

“Sick of home,” she supplied. “I know the feeling. I remember being your age, never wanting to be still for a moment. I was only surprised to hear you weren’t seduced away by foreign shores.”

She shrugged. “It was never about distance, I just needed to find a place where I felt like my life could really begin. And for right now I think that’s here.” Wanting to move the subject away from herself she added, “Dad says hi, by the way. He also says you need to start answering your email more than once a year.”

“Email. A man of literature like your father should give more respect to the written word. You tell him I won’t settle for less than a hand-scribed letter, like they did in the old days. I want to smell that clean valley air he goes on about etched into the paper.”

Gianna laughed. It was reassuring to find some things never changed. Although the silver in her hair had grown more prominent, Dr Bagnol was in many ways just the same as she remembered her. She never knew exactly how she and her father had met, only that it was while they were both still students, and that Petra had been a firecracker from the start, determined to surpass the role that had been imposed on her as a disabled woman in a field that was often unwelcoming to her. Though Gianna couldn’t say she knew her very well personally, the mythos that had been handed down to her had definitely played a part in her decision to become more independent. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Petra said. “Virgil dropped some hints that I should track you down once you started working here but I told him I wouldn’t have that kind of attitude. You’re a grown woman and you don’t need nannying. However,” She picked up a tote from her desk and slung it around her shoulder. “Since you came to me, I’m free to invite you to lunch.”

“Dad wanted you to check up on me?”

“Don’t take it for a lack of faith in you. Parents worry. It’s what they do. I’m sure he just wanted you to have a familiar face to turn to, should you need it. Come to lunch with me, Gianna. We’ll catch up.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to--”

“I’m just going to keep asking until you give in. You know that, right?”

She felt herself soften under her insistence. It wasn’t as if she had other plans anyway. “Yeah, alright. That sounds nice.”

Petra led the way to a little sandwich shop not far off campus and, despite Gianna’s protests, insisted on treating her. The weather was kind to them that day so they took their lunch on the patio watching the cars crawl by to the rhythm of the neverending traffic. They sat and ate and spoke of nothing in particular until, without warning, Dr Bagnol’s gaze caught on something in the distance that put a troubled frown on her face.

“What is it?” She started to turn in her seat.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. Too quickly. Her voice had taken on a sharp quality that startled the young woman, but she caught herself and when she spoke again her voice was even and deliberate. “I thought I saw someone I knew. That’s all.”

Not satisfied with her answer, Gianna glanced over her shoulder. Across the street, standing motionless in front of the crosswalk, was the withered old man she had seen in the garden that first day: Beatrice’s father.

Ever since she had met her that one evening on the fire escape, Gianna had come into the habit of chatting with her almost every day. She couldn’t always guarantee she’d be home from work when Beatrice went out to tend the garden, but on the days she spied her from her window she never hesitated to climb down and visit. 

Their chats together weren’t anything especially profound; she got the impression Beatrice really just wanted a friend to keep her company while she worked and Gianna was happy to provide. Often they kept the conversation light and simple. One would ask about the other’s day, or an interesting book they read, or something they heard in the news. Then Beatrice would eventually be summoned by her father or the memory of some other chore she had to attend to inside, and they would part ways.

On the occasions Beatrice wasn’t in such a pleasant mood however, no matter the initial topic the conversation would eventually find its way back to her father. Apparently he was, as Gianna had predicted, in a bad state and sick more often than not, and while Beatrice wasn’t his sole caretaker he trusted her more than the average nurse. The old man had been a doctor before being reduced to the role of patient, and a somewhat renowned one at that. He had homeschooled his daughter and taught her everything he knew. Now she was expected to apply that knowledge by taking on the bulk of responsibility for his care.

He was frail, she said, and the state of his health could be unpredictable, so she was on constant vigil. The only time she really had to herself was when he was asleep or on a rare errand, and she spent that time for the most part in the garden, the place that gave her the greatest sense of peace. It must have been hard on her, Gianna often thought, to be in the prime of her life and chained to his bedside. She understood though. If it had been either of her parents she was sure she would have done the same. 

Knowing this also gave her some more sympathy for the old man. It painted him in a more human light, and she berated herself for ever being afraid of him in the first place. But seeing him here now, staring at her again with those scrutinous sunken eyes, resurfaced some of that initial dread. Dr Bagnol seemed to sense it too.

At the moment Beatrice’s father was wearing an unseasonal gray overcoat and carrying an old-fashioned black carpet bag. He lifted his free hand and slowly waved at Gianna, his stony features cracking with the barest attempt at a smile, which did nothing to soften his appearance. In fact, the more she looked at him the more leering the grin appeared to be.

“Don’t acknowledge him, Gianna,” said Dr Bagnol coldly.

“No, no, it’s fine. That’s just my neighbor.” She forced herself to give a friendly wave in return. 

Petra reached across the table and grabbed her hand back. “What do you mean he’s your neighbor?”

“His building is next to mine. Why?” 

She sighed shakily and gave another glance across the street. The man was beginning to shuffle away now, the retreating shape of him becoming swallowed up by the crowd of fellow pedestrians. Petra released her hand and drew in a tense breath. She steepled her fingers together over the table.

“His name is Giacoma Rappaccini. He was… I knew him, for a time. Not well. He came to me for some insight on a project of his years ago.”

“I heard he was a doctor,” Gianna offered. “You worked together?”

The professor chose her next words carefully. “Officially, he was a 'doctor of holistic and alternative medicines', before he retired that is. But he liked to dabble. Botany, chemistry, anthropology, philosophy. I knew when I met him that he was the sort of man who could spend a hundred years studying and still feel he hadn't learned enough.” She smiled ruefully. “It was a quality we shared, so I agreed to assist him.”

“Doesn't seem like you like the guy much.”

“We parted on difficult terms. He had some ideas that… challenged my sense of professional integrity. I told him I was out and, well, men like that don't tend to handle rejection too gracefully. All I know of him after that point is that he ran into some health problems and was forced to step down from his position. It may seem cruel but I think the world is better off for it. Rappaccini is no more qualified to treat the human body than I am to teach a dance class. 

"He's a brilliant intellectual, sure, but he lacks any compassion, any consideration for the value of human life outside of points of data on a chart. He never cared about helping people with his medicine; he only ever cared about pushing his own limits. I think, in the end, he must have pushed himself too far."

Gianna sat and processed that. The man did give her the creeps but in the scant few times she’d witnessed him he’d never come across as malevolent, and Beatrice clearly loved him. Even on the bad days, she only ever spoke well of him, and it was hard to believe a girl like Beatrice could exist without having had a loving upbringing. Whoever her mother was or had been surely was loved by him as well. That was enough evidence for Gianna that he couldn’t be everything Petra claimed him to be.

“You said he’s your neighbor. Has he ever spoken to you? Invited you over?”

She shook her head. “Rumor has it he’s a pretty private person, and I’m not exactly going over to borrow a cup of sugar or anything.”

Gianna opted not to mention her afternoons with his daughter.

She relaxed at that reassurance. “Good. Take my advice and stay far away from Rappaccini. Nothing good ever came from getting too chummy with that man. Now, where were we?”

They changed topics and the conversation gradually returned to safer, more pleasant territory, but Gianna couldn't stop thinking about what she had said, about the old man and about the sweet but melancholy girl who was left alone with him.

-----

Against the professor’s advice, Gianna did continue meeting with Beatrice. It hadn’t even been a question in her mind whether she would. If anything, knowing about Petra’s history with Dr Rappaccini made her all the more curious about the young woman. 

She reasoned that she was still technically acting in line with Dr Bagnol’s wishes; she hadn’t so much as glimpsed the shadow of the man since their lunch outing, and the more she spoke with Beatrice the more certain she felt that the daughter was nothing like the boogieman father Petra had described to her, however much of her telling was even accurate.

Beatrice was a sweetheart, bookish and reserved. She smothered laughs behind her hand and averted her eyes when she found herself caught in Gianna’s warm gaze. She was smart, happily listing off the latin genuses of her favorite plants and reciting lessons on phytochemicals she suddenly remembered (she might as well have been speaking latin here too, for as much as Gianna understood her) but at the same time strangely naive. 

She had a boundless love for the world, yet Gianna got the impression she’d seen very little of it. Her eyes always went wide with interest when Gianna spoke of the traveling she’d done. Gianna never thought it was all that impressive but she would gladly talk about it, would say just about anything in fact, if it would get her to pay more attention to her than her flowers for a moment. 

One time, Gianna playfully inserted a flirtatious Italian phrase into their conversation and was flustered to find Beatrice spoke it near fluently, as well as Spanish, Portuguese, Romanian…

“How many languages do you know?” she asked, stunned.

“Six,” she replied. “Not counting English. I’m thinking about trying Mandarin next, and I can read Arabic but can’t speak it. Honestly, I’m not great with the conversational stuff. I’m just good at memorizing new vocabulary and being able to understand multiple languages gives me a much wider variety of reading material.”

She spoke about her talent with words like it was a card trick she’d picked up in her spare time.

“What do you like to read about?”

That got her excited. When Beatrice got excited she found it harder to play coy or smother her emotions under a layer of cool composure, so of course Gianna tried to get her excited as often as possible.

“Everything. Anything. Father’s library is huge but it’s mostly textbooks and old scientific journals and stuff like that. Which is fine,” she added hurriedly. “I like to read those too, but what I really like to read is… romance novels.”

She confessed it like it was some deep dark secret, grinning and turning berry red beneath the brown of her skin. It occurred to Gianna quite suddenly that she was falling in love with her. 

The panic set in right away. She had been happy to have Beatrice as a friend, tamping down her attraction in order to keep spending time with her, but now it was becoming clear that the dam wouldn’t hold forever. She needed to say something, if only to keep from leading her on, if only to keep her from getting the wrong idea or, heaven forbid, the right one. 

What if she was straight? Did gay girls read romance too? Did gay girls wear their dresses long and their hair short like her? Gianna had crushed on butches, on femmes, on lipstick, chapstick, snapback, every kind of sapphic on the vast spectrum of preference and presentation, and she still couldn’t get a read on her. Beatrice seemed to be from another world, another time, somehow out of step with the rest of humanity. If she started dropping hints, she couldn’t predict if she would follow her lead or recoil in disgust and never speak to her again.

That night, Gianna had a strange dream. She might have expected she would, given how wound up she’d felt since their last discussion. The ghost of her had followed her up, back through the window of her apartment, and as she tossed and turned in bed that night she was dizzy with it.

In her dream, she found herself walking in a cathedral. As was the way with dreams, her sight was blurry and visions danced and flickered in front of her eyes before vanishing in the same instant. However even as the edges of her surroundings blurred like a bad photograph, she heard the echoing of her footsteps clearly, and felt the largeness of the air around her. There wasn’t another way to describe it, she thought, just a strange sensation of vast emptiness surrounding her, rendering her infinitely smaller by comparison. 

She was a child now, and she was at a wedding. Or could it have been a funeral? There were flowers everywhere, but dark ones with big thorns and a smell that clung to the back of her throat and watered her eyes. She reached out to touch one and.

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