#man I was so livid last night when I lost all of this text | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deerydear · 1 year ago

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“You mustn’t believe everything you hear, Drinn.” He walked to the door of the inn, and Molly followed him. There he turned and beamed at the folk of Hagsgate, hunched in their finery. “I would like to leave you with this last thought,” he told them. “The most professional curse ever snarled or croaked or thundered can have no effect on a pure heart. Good night.”

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The problem was simply that people convinced me that my heart was not good. So I chose to believe that, because their fear gave me power... but I could have had them afraid of me for no good reason, and carried on my merry way, eh? Let them be fools! I was so aware of this balance. I allowed rats in, who chewed at my foundations.... simply because I thought it better to have rats for company, than nobody at all! Well, let Anonymous in, won't you?

I'm reminded of old King Theoden's tale of resurrection. BUT before every time that I was degraded, it was simply because I was impatient in waiting for what was truly meant for me. I knew this crap wasn't 'mine', but I was bored... Maybe that's what they mean by "idle hands are the devil's playthings". Not to work yourself to death, but simply to continue to improve on your own desire. THEN AGAIN, 'the devil can quote scripture for his purpose', but I just like trying to work shit out in my head and figure out what the original authors meant. I never got noooo formal edumacation on this here bible. There's a bajillion different sects of that religion where different people take the same text to mean different things, or it's a fucking cosmic game of telephone.... whatever. I decide my own shit. I'm my own dude. I'm me. Hello.

--------------------- I think that I had absorbed the idea that "everything that christians think is sin is actually normal, and everything that they think to be good is unnatural". I.E.: people bragging about embodying the seven deadly sins, because they're rebelling against their preachers, who are only human. "lol I'm so gluttonous, I ate a bag of potato chips" I guess maybe that's the thing that's so sad about some people, is how they can get all twisted up inside. I used to never worry about it, and I probably still should carry on that habit. I think worrying just made me twisted like a tree, too. The point of bringing this up, again, was to say that I managed to convince myself that "wanting to be good" was a prelude to getting fooled. --That "being the better person" meant doom. It wasn't true...

There were all sorts of other people to bolster this decision I had made, but I am the one who makes the decisions...... Like he says, "no curse can ever have an effect on a pure heart." I am my only enemy.

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The long road hurried to nowhere and had no end. It ran through villages and small towns, flat country and mountains, stony barrens and meadows springing out of stones, but it belonged to none of these, and it never rested anywhere. It rushed the unicorn along, tugging at her feet like the tide, fretting at her, never letting her be quiet and listen to the air, as she was used to doing. Her eyes were always full of dust, and her mane was stiff and heavy with dirt.

Time had always passed her by in her forest, but now it was she who passed through time as she traveled. The colors of the trees changed, and the animals along the way grew heavy coats and lost them again; the clouds crept or hurried before the changing winds, and were pink and gold in the sun or livid with storm. Wherever she went, she searched for her people, but she found no trace of them, and in all the tongues she heard spoken along the road there was not even a word for them any more.

Early one morning, about to turn off the road to sleep, she saw a man hoeing in his garden. Knowing that she should hide, she stood still instead and watched him work, until he straightened and saw her. He was fat, and his cheeks jumped with every step he took. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, you’re beautiful.”

When he tugged off his belt, made a loop in it, and moved clumsily toward her, the unicorn was more pleased than frightened. The man knew what she was, and what he himself was for: to hoe turnips and pursue something that shone and could run faster than he could. She sidestepped his first lunge as lightly as though the wind of it had blown her out of his reach. “I have been hunted with bells and banners in my time,” she told him. “Men knew that the only way to hunt me was to make the chase so wondrous that I would come near to see it. And even so I was never once captured.”

“My foot must have slipped,” said the man. “Steady now, you pretty thing.”

“I’ve never really understood,” the unicorn mused as the man picked himself up, “what you dream of doing with me, once you’ve caught me.” The man leaped again, and she slipped away from him like rain. “I don’t think you know yourselves,” she said.

“Ah, steady, steady, easy now.” The man’s sweating face was striped with dirt, and he could hardly get his breath. “Pretty,” he gasped. “You pretty little mare.”

“Mare?” The unicorn trumpeted the word so shrilly that the man stopped pursuing her and clapped his hands to his ears. “Mare?” she demanded. “I, a horse? Is that what you take me for? Is that what you see?”

“Good horse,” the fat man panted. He leaned on the fence and wiped his face. “Curry you up, clean you off, you’ll be the prettiest old mare anywhere.” He reached out with the belt again. “Take you to the fair,” he said. “Come on, horse.”

“A horse,” the unicorn said. “That’s what you were trying to capture. A white mare with her mane full of burrs.” As the man approached her, she hooked her horn through the belt, jerked it out of his grasp, and hurled it across the road into a patch of daisies. “A horse, am I?” she snorted. “A horse, indeed!”

For a moment the man was very close to her, and her great eyes stared into his own, which were small and tired and amazed. Then she turned and fled up the road, running so swiftly that those who saw her exclaimed, “Now there’s a horse! There’s a real horse!” One old man said quietly to his wife, “That’s an Ayrab horse. I was on a ship with an Ayrab horse once.”

From that time the unicorn avoided towns, even at night, unless there was no way at all to go around them. Even so, there were a few men who gave chase, but always to a wandering white mare; never in the gay and reverent manner proper to the pursuit of a unicorn. They came with ropes and nets and baits of sugar lumps, and they whistled and called her Bess and Nellie. Sometimes she would slow down enough to let their horses catch her scent, and then watch as the beasts reared and wheeled and ran away with their terrified riders. The horses always knew her.

“How can it be?” she wondered. “I suppose I could understand it if men had simply forgotten unicorns, or if they had changed so that they hated all unicorns now and tried to kill them when they saw them. But not to see them at all, to look at them and see something else‌—‌what do they look like to one another, then? What do trees look like to them, or houses, or real horses, or their own children?”

Sometimes she thought if men no longer know what they are looking at, there may well be unicorns in the world yet, unknown and glad of it. But she knew beyond both hope and vanity that men had changed, and the world with them, because the unicorns were gone. Yet she went on along the hard road, although each day she wished a little more that she had never left her forest.

Then one afternoon the butterfly wobbled out of a breeze and lit on the tip of her horn. He was velvet all over, dark and dusty, with golden spots on his wings, and he was as thin as a flower petal. Dancing along her horn, he saluted her with his curling feelers. “I am a roving gambler. How do you do?”

The unicorn laughed for the first time in her travels. “Butterfly, what are you doing out on such a windy day?” she asked him. “You’ll take cold and die long before your time.”

“Death takes what man would keep,” said the butterfly, “and leaves what man would lose. Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks. I warm my hands before the fire of life and get four-way relief.” He glimmered like a scrap of owl-light on her horn.

“Do you know what I am, butterfly?” the unicorn asked hopefully, and he replied, “Excellent well, you’re a fishmonger. You’re my everything, you are my sunshine, you are old and gray and full of sleep, you’re my pickle-face, consumptive Mary Jane.” He paused, fluttering his wings against the wind, and added conversationally, “Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name.”

“Say my name, then,” the unicorn begged him. “If you know my name, tell it to me.”

“Rumpelstiltskin,” the butterfly answered happily. “Gotcha! You don’t get no medal.” He jigged and twinkled on her horn, singing, “Won’t you come home, Bill Bailey, won’t you come home, where once he could not go. Buckle down, Winsocki, go and catch a falling star. Clay lies still, but blood’s a rover, so I should be called kill-devil all the parish over.” His eyes were gleaming scarlet in the glow of the unicorn’s horn.

She sighed and plodded on, both amused and disappointed. It serves you right, she told herself. You know better than to expect a butterfly to know your name. All they know are songs and poetry, and anything else they hear. They mean well, but they can’t keep things straight. And why should they? They die so soon.

The butterfly swaggered before her eyes, singing, “One, two, three o’lairy,” as he whirled; chanting, “Not, I’ll not, carrion comfort, look down that lonesome road. For, oh, what damned minutes tells he o’er who dotes, yet doubts. Hasten, Mirth, and bring with thee a host of furious fancies whereof I am commander, which will be on sale for three days only at bargain summer prices. I love you, I love you, oh, the horror, the horror, and aroint thee, witch, aroint thee, indeed and truly you’ve chosen a bad place to be lame in, willow, willow, willow.” His voice tinkled in the unicorn’s head like silver money falling.

He traveled with her for the rest of the waning day, but when the sun went down and the sky was full of rosy fish, he flew off her horn and hovered in the air before her. “I must take the A train,” he said politely. Against the clouds she could see that his velvet wings were ribbed with delicate black veins.

“Farewell,” she said. “I hope you hear many more songs”‌—‌which was the best way she could think of to say good-by to a butterfly. But instead of leaving her, he fluttered above her head, looking suddenly less dashing and a little nervous in the blue evening air. “Fly away,” she urged him. “It’s too cold for you to be out.” But the butterfly still dallied, humming to himself.

“They ride that horse you call the Macedonai,” he intoned absentmindedly, and then, very clearly, “Unicorn. Old French, unicorne. Latin, unicornis. Literally, one-horned: unus, one, and cornu, a horn. A fabulous animal resembling a horse with one horn. Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold and the mate of the Nancy brig. Has anybody here seen Kelly?” He strutted joyously in the air, and the first fireflies blinked around him in wonder and grave doubt.

The unicorn was so startled and so happy to hear her name spoken at last that she overlooked the remark about the horse. “Oh, you do know me!” she cried, and the breath of her delight blew the butterfly twenty feet away. When he came scrambling back to her, she pleaded, “Butterfly, if you really know who I am, tell me if you have ever seen anyone like me, tell me which way I must go to find them. Where have they gone?”

“Butterfly, butterfly, where shall I hide?” he sang in the fading light. “The sweet and bitter fool will presently appear. Christ, that my love were in my arms, and I in my bed again.” He rested on the unicorn’s horn once more, and she could feel him trembling.

“Please,” she said. “All I want to know is that there are other unicorns somewhere in the world. Butterfly, tell me that there are still others like me, and I will believe you and go home to my forest. I have been away so long, and I said that I would come back soon.”

“Over the mountains of the moon,” the butterfly began, “down the Valley of the Shadow, ride, boldly ride.” Then he stopped suddenly and said in a strange voice, “No, no, listen, don’t listen to me, listen. You can find your people if you are brave. They passed down all the roads long ago, and the Red Bull ran close behind them and covered their footprints. Let nothing you dismay, but don’t be half-safe.” His wings brushed against the unicorn’s skin.

“The Red Bull?” she asked. “What is the Red Bull?”

The butterfly started to sing. “Follow me down. Follow me down. Follow me down. Follow me down.” But then he shook his head wildly and recited, “His firstling bull has majesty, and his horns are the horns of a wild ox. With them he shall push the peoples, all of them, to the ends of the earth. Listen, listen, listen quickly.”

“I am listening,” the unicorn cried. “Where are my people, and what is the Red Bull?”

But the butterfly swooped close to her ear, laughing. “I have nightmares about crawling around on the ground,” he sang. “The little dogs, Tray, Blanche, Sue, they bark at me, the little snakes, they hiss at me, the beggars are coming to town. Then at last come the clams.”

For a moment more he danced in the dusk before her; then he shivered away into the violet shadows by the roadside, chanting defiantly, “It’s you or me, moth! Hand to hand to hand to hand to hand…” The last the unicorn saw of him was a tiny skittering between the trees, and her eyes might have deceived her, for the night was full of wings now.

At least he did recognize me, she thought sadly. That means something. But she answered herself, No, that means nothing at all, except that somebody once made up a song about unicorns, or a poem. But the Red Bull. What could he have meant by that? Another song, I suppose.

She walked on slowly, and the night drew close about her. The sky was low and almost pure black, save for one spot of yellowing silver where the moon paced behind the thick clouds. The unicorn sang softly to herself, a song she had heard a young girl singing in her forest long ago.

Sparrows and cats will live in my shoe,

Sooner than I will live with you.

Fish will come walking out of the sea,

Sooner than you will come back to me.

She did not understand the words, but the song made her think longingly of her home. It seemed to her that she had heard autumn beginning to shake the beech trees the very moment that she stepped out into the road.

At last she lay down in the cold grass and fell asleep. Unicorns are the wariest of all wild things, but they sleep soundly when they sleep. All the same, if she had not been dreaming of home, she would surely have roused at the sound of wheels and jingling coming closer through the night, even though the wheels were muffled in rags and the little bells wrapped in wool. But she was very far away, farther than the soft bells could go, and she did not wake.

There were nine wagons, each draped in black, each drawn by a lean black horse, and each baring barred sides like teeth when the wind blew through the black hangings. The lead wagon was driven by a squat old woman, and it bore signs on its shrouded sides that said in big letters: MOMMY FORTUNA’S MIDNIGHT CARNIVAL. And below, in smaller print: Creatures of night, brought to light.

When the first wagon drew even with the place where the unicorn lay asleep, the old woman suddenly pulled her black horse to a stop. All the other wagons stopped too and waited silently as the old woman swung herself to the ground with an ugly grace. Gliding close to the unicorn, she peered down at her for a long time, and then said, “Well. Well, bless my old husk of a heart. And here I thought I’d seen the last of them.” Her voice left a flavor of honey and gunpowder on the air.

“If he knew,” she said and she showed pebbly teeth as she smiled. “But I don’t think I’ll tell him.” She looked back at the black wagons and snapped her fingers twice. The drivers of the second and third wagons got down and came toward her. One was short and dark and stony, like herself; the other was a tall, thin man with an air of resolute bewilderment. He wore an old black cloak, and his eyes were green.

“What do you see?” the old woman asked the short man. “Rukh, what do you see lying there?”

“Dead horse,” he answered. “No, not dead. Give it to the manticore, or the dragon.” His chuckle sounded like matches striking.

“You’re a fool,” Mommy Fortuna said to him. Then, to the other, “What about you, wizard, seer, thaumaturge? What do you see with your sorcerer’s sight?” She joined with the man Rukh in a ratchety roar of laughter, but it ended when she saw that the tall man was still staring at the unicorn. “Answer me, you juggler!” she snarled, but the tall man did not turn his head. The old woman turned it for him, reaching out a crablike hand to yank his chin around. His eyes fell before her yellow stare.

“A horse,” he muttered. “A white mare.”

Mommy Fortuna looked at him for a long time. “You’re a fool too, magician,” she snickered at last, “but a worse fool than Rukh, and a more dangerous one. He lies only out of greed, but you lie out of fear. Or could it be kindness?” The man said nothing, and Mommy Fortuna laughed by herself.

“All right,” she said. “It’s a white mare. I want her for the Carnival. The ninth cage is empty.”

“I’ll need rope,” Rukh said. He was about to turn away, but the old woman stopped him.

“The only rope that could hold her,” she told him, “would be the cord with which the old gods bound the Fenris-wolf. That one was made of fishes’ breath, bird spittle, a woman’s beard, the miaowing of a cat, the sinews of a bear, and one thing more. I remember‌—‌mountain roots. Having none of these elements, nor dwarfs to weave them for us, we’ll have to do the best we can with iron bars. I’ll put a sleep on her, thus,” and Mommy Fortuna’s hands knitted the night air while she grumbled a few unpleasant words in her throat. There was a smell of lightning about the unicorn when the old woman had finished her spell.

“Now cage her,” she said to the two men. “She’ll sleep till sunrise, whatever racket you make‌—‌unless, in your accustomed stupidity, you touch her with your hands. Take the ninth cage to pieces and build it around her, but beware! The hand that so much as brushes her mane turns instantly to the donkey’s hoof it deserves to be.” Again she gazed mockingly at the tall, thin man. “Your little tricks would be even harder for you than they already are, wizard,” she said, wheezing. “Get to work. There’s not much dark left.”

When she was well out of earshot, sliding back into the shadow of her wagon as though she had just come out to mark the hour, the man named Rukh spat and said curiously, “Now I wonder what’s worrying the old squid. What would it matter if we touched the beast?”

The magician answered him in a voice almost too soft to be heard. “The touch of a human hand would wake her out of the deepest sleep the devil himself could lay on her. And Mommy Fortuna’s no devil.”

“She’d like us to think so,” the dark man sneered. “Donkey hooves! Gahhh!” But he thrust his hands deep into his pockets. “Why would the spell be broken? It’s just an old white mare.”

But the magician was walking away toward the last of the black wagons. “Hurry,” he called over his shoulder. “It will be day soon.”

It took them the rest of the night to pull down the ninth cage, bars and floor and roof, and then to put it back together around the sleeping unicorn. Rukh was tugging at the door to make sure that it was securely locked, when the gray trees in the east boiled over and the unicorn opened her eyes. The two men slipped hurriedly away, but the tall magician looked back in time to see the unicorn rise to her feet and stare at the iron bars, her low head swaying like the head of an old white horse.

The nine black wagons of the Midnight Carnival seemed smaller by daylight and not menacing at all, but flimsy and fragile as dead leaves. Their draperies were gone, and they were now adorned with sad black banners cut from blankets, and stubby black ribbons that twitched in the breeze. They were arranged strangely in a scrubby field: a pentacle of cages enclosing a triangle, and Mommy Fortuna’s wagon lumping in the center. This cage alone retained its black veil, concealing whatever it contained. Mommy Fortuna was nowhere to be seen.

The man named Rukh was leading a straggling crowd of country folk slowly from one cage to the next, commenting somberly on the beasts within. “This here’s the manticore. Man’s head, lion’s body, tail of a scorpion. Captured at midnight, eating werewolves to sweeten its breath. Creatures of night, brought to light. Here’s the dragon. Breathes fire now and then‌—‌usually at people who poke it, little boy. Its inside is an inferno, but its skin is so cold it burns. The dragon speaks seventeen languages badly, and is subject to gout. The satyr. Ladies keep back. A real troublemaker. Captured under curious circumstances revealed to gentlemen only, for a token fee after the show. Creatures of night.” Standing by the unicorn’s cage, which was one of the inner three, the tall magician watched the procession proceeding around the pentacle. “I shouldn’t be here,” he said to the unicorn. “The old woman warned me to stay away from you.” He chuckled pleasantly. “She has mocked me from the day I joined her, but I have made her nervous all that time.”

The unicorn hardly heard him. She turned and turned in her prison, her body shrinking from the touch of the iron bars all around her. No creature of man’s night loves cold iron, and while the unicorn could endure its presence, the murderous smell of it seemed to turn her bones to sand and her blood to rain. The bars of her cage must have had some sort of spell on them, for they never stopped whispering evilly to one another in clawed, pattering voices. The heavy lock giggled and whined like a mad monkey.

“Tell me what you see,” said the magician, as Mommy Fortuna had said it to him. “Look at your fellow legends and tell me what you see.”

Rukh’s iron voice came clanging through the wan afternoon. “Gatekeeper of the underworld. Three heads and a healthy coat of vipers, as you can see. Last seen aboveground in the time of Hercules, who dragged him up under one arm. But we lured him to light again with promises of a better life. Cerberus. Look at those six cheated red eyes. You may look into them again one day. This way to the Midgard Serpent. This way.”

The unicorn stared through the bars at the animal in the cage. Her eyes were wide with disbelief. “It’s only a dog,” she whispered. “It’s a hungry, unhappy dog with only one head and hardly any coat at all, the poor thing. How could they ever take it for Cerberus? Are they all blind?”

“Look again,” the magician said.

“And the satyr,” the unicorn continued. “The satyr is an ape, an old ape with a twisted foot. The dragon is a crocodile, much more likely to breathe fish than fire. And the great manticore is a lion‌—‌a perfectly good lion, but no more monstrous than the others. I don’t understand.”

“It’s got the whole world in its coils,” Rukh was droning. And once more the magician said, “Look again.”

Then, as though her eyes were getting used to darkness, the unicorn began to perceive a second figure in each cage. They loomed hugely over the captives of the Midnight Carnival, and yet they were joined to them: stormy dreams sprung from a grain of truth. So there was a manticore‌—‌famine-eyed, slobber-mouthed, roaring, curving his deadly tail over his back until the poison spine lolled and nodded just above his ear‌—‌and there was a lion too, tiny and absurd by comparison. Yet they were the same creature. The unicorn stamped in wonder.

It was so in all the other cages. The shadow-dragon opened his mouth and hissed harmless fire to make the gapers gasp and cringe, while Hell’s snake-furred watchdog howled triple dooms and devastations down on his betrayers, and the satyr limped leering to the bars and beckoned young girls to impossible delights, right there in public. As for the crocodile, the ape, and the sad dog, they faded steadily before the marvelous phantoms until they were only shadows themselves, even to the unicorn’s undeceived eyes. “This is a strange sorcery,” she said softly. “There’s more meaning than magic to this.”

The magician laughed with pleasure and great relief. “Well said, well said indeed. I knew the old horror wouldn’t dazzle you with her twopenny spells.” His voice grew hard and secret. “She’s made her third mistake now,” he said, “and that’s at least two too many for a tired old trickster like herself. The time draws near.”

“The time draws near,” Rukh was telling the crowd, as though he had overheard the magician. “Ragnarok. On that day, when the gods fall, the Serpent of the Midgard will spit a storm of venom at great Thor himself, till he tumbles over like a poisoned fly. And so he waits for Judgment Day, and dreams about the part he’ll play. It may be so‌—‌I couldn’t say. Creatures of night, brought to light.”

The cage was filled with snake. There was no head to it, and no tail‌—‌nothing but a wave of tarnished darkness rolling from one end of the cage to the other, leaving no room for anything but its own thunderous breathing. Only the unicorn saw, coiled in a corner, a baleful boa; brooding, perhaps, over its own Judgment on the Midnight Carnival. But it was tiny and dim as the ghost of a worm in the Serpent’s shadow.

A wondering gawk stuck up his hand and demanded of Rukh, “If this big snake do be coiled around the world, as you say, how come you to be having a piece of it in your wagon? And if it can shatter the sea just by stretching of itself, what’s to keep it from crawling off wearing your whole show like a necklace?” There were murmurs of agreement, and some of the murmurers began to back warily away.

“I’m glad you asked me that, friend,” Rukh said with a scowl. “It just so happens that the Midgard Serpent exists in like another space from ours, another dimension. Normally, therefore, he’s invisible, but dragged into our world‌—‌as Thor hooked him once‌—‌he shows clear as lightning, which also visits us from somewhere else, where it might look quite different. And naturally he might turn nasty if he knew that a bit of his tummy slack was on view daily and Sundays in Mommy Fortuna’s Midnight Carnival. But he don’t know. He’s got other things to think about than what becomes of his belly button, and we take our chances‌—‌as do you all‌—‌on his continued tranquility.” He rolled and stretched the last word like dough, and his hearers laughed carefully.

“Spells of seeming,” the unicorn said. “She cannot make things.”

“Nor truly change them,” added the magician. “Her shabby skill lies in disguise. And even that knack would be beyond her, if it weren’t for the eagerness of those gulls, those marks, to believe whatever comes easiest. She can’t turn cream into butter, but she can give a lion the semblance of a manticore to eyes that want to see a manticore there‌—‌eyes that would take a real manticore for a lion, a dragon for a lizard, and the Midgard Serpent for an earthquake. And a unicorn for a white mare.”

The unicorn halted in her slow, desperate round of the cage, realizing for the first time that the magician understood her speech. He smiled, and she saw that his face was frighteningly young for a grown man‌—‌untraveled by time, unvisited by grief or wisdom. “I know you,” he said.

The bars whispered wickedly between them. Rukh was leading the crowd to the inner cages now. The unicorn asked the tall man, “Who are you?”

“I am called Schmendrick the Magician,” he answered. “You won’t have heard of me.”

The unicorn came very near to explaining that it was hardly for her to have heard of one wizard or another, but something sad and valiant in his voice kept her from it. The magician said, “I entertain the sightseers as they gather for the show. Miniature magic, sleight of hand‌—‌flowers to flags and flags to fish, all accompanied by persuasive patter and a suggestion that I could work more ominous wonders if I chose. It’s not much of a job, but I’ve had worse, and I’ll have better one day. This is not the end.”

But the sound of his voice made the unicorn feel as though she were trapped forever, and once more she began pacing her cage, moving to keep her heart from bursting with the terror of being closed in. Rukh was standing before a cage that contained nothing but a small brown spider weaving a modest web across the bars. “Arachne of Lydia,” he told the crowd. “Guaranteed the greatest weaver in the world‌—‌her fate’s the proof of it. She had the bad luck to defeat the goddess Athena in a weaving contest. Athena was a sore loser, and Arachne is now a spider, creating only for Mommy Fortuna’s Midnight Carnival, by special arrangement. Warp of snow and woof of flame, and never any two the same. Arachne.”

Strung on the loom of iron bars, the web was very simple and almost colorless, except for an occasional rainbow shiver when the spider scuttled out on it to put a thread right. But it drew the onlookers’ eyes‌—‌and the unicorn’s eyes as well‌—‌back and forth and steadily deeper, until they seemed to be looking down into great rifts in the world, black fissures that widened remorselessly and yet would not fall into pieces as long as Arachne’s web held the world together. The unicorn shook herself free with a sigh, and saw the real web again. It was very simple, and almost colorless.

“It isn’t like the others,” she said.

“No,” Schmendrick agreed grudgingly. “But there’s no credit due to Mommy Fortuna for that. You see, the spider believes. She sees those cat’s-cradles herself and thinks them her own work. Belief makes all the difference to magic like Mommy Fortuna’s. Why, if that troop of witlings withdrew their wonder, there’d be nothing left of all her witchery but the sound of a spider weeping. And no one would hear it.”

The unicorn did not want to look into the web again. She glanced at the cage closest to her own, and suddenly felt the breath in her body turning to cold iron. There sat on an oaken perch a creature with the body of a great bronze bird and a hag’s face, clenched and deadly as the talons with which she gripped the wood. She had the shaggy round ears of a bear; but down her scaly shoulders, mingling with the bright knives of her plumage, there fell hair the color of moonlight, thick and youthful around the hating human face. She glittered, but to look at her was to feel the light going out of the sky. Catching sight of the unicorn, she made a queer sound like a hiss and a chuckle together.

The unicorn said quietly, “This one is real. This is the harpy Celaeno.”

Schmendrick’s face had gone the color of oatmeal. “The old woman caught her by chance,” he whispered, “asleep, as she took you. But it was an ill fortune, and they both know it. Mommy Fortuna’s craft is just sure enough to hold the monster, but its mere presence is wearing all her spells so thin that in a little time she won’t have power enough left to fry an egg. She should never have done it, never meddled with a real harpy, a real unicorn. The truth melts her magic, always, but she cannot keep from trying to make it serve her. But this time—”

“Sister of the rainbow, believe it or not,” they heard Rukh braying to the awed onlookers. “Her name means ‘the Dark One,’ the one whose wings blacken the sky before a storm. She and her two sweet sisters nearly starved the king Phineus to death by snatching and befouling his food before he could eat it. But the sons of the North Wind made them quit that, didn’t they, my beauty?” The harpy made no sound, and Rukh grinned like a cage himself.

“She put up a fiercer fight than all the others put together,” he went on. “It was like trying to bind all hell with a hair, but Mommy Fortuna’s powers are great enough even for that. Creatures of night, brought to light. Polly want a cracker?” Few in the crowd laughed. The harpy’s talons tightened on her perch until the wood cried out.

“You’ll need to be free when she frees herself,” the magician said. “She mustn’t catch you caged.”

“I dare not touch the iron,” the unicorn replied. “My horn could open the lock, but I cannot reach it. I cannot get out.” She was trembling with horror of the harpy, but her voice was quite calm.

Schmendrick the Magician drew himself up several inches taller than the unicorn would have thought possible. “Fear nothing,” he began grandly. “For all my air of mystery, I have a feeling heart.” But he was interrupted by the approach of Rukh and his followers, grown quieter than the grubby gang who had giggled at the manticore. The magician fled, calling back softly, “Don’t be afraid, Schmendrick is with you. Do nothing till you hear from me!” His voice drifted to the unicorn, so faint and lonely that she was not sure whether she actually heard it or only felt it brush against her.

It was growing dark. The crowd stood in front of her cage, peering in at her with a strange shyness. Rukh said, “The unicorn,” and stepped aside.

She heard hearts bounce, tears brewing, and breath going backward, but nobody said a word. By the sorrow and loss and sweetness in their faces she knew that they recognized her, and she accepted their hunger as her homage. She thought of the hunter’s great-grandmother, and wondered what it must be like to grow old, and to cry.

“Most shows,” said Rukh after a time, “would end here, for what could they possibly present after a genuine unicorn? But Mommy Fortuna’s Midnight Carnival holds one more mystery yet‌—‌a demon more destructive than the dragon, more monstrous than the manticore, more hideous than the harpy, and certainly more universal than the unicorn.” He waved his hand toward the last wagon and the black hangings began to wriggle open, though there was no one pulling them. “Behold her!” Rukh cried. “Behold the last, the Very End! Behold Elli!”

Inside the cage, it was darker than the evening, and cold stirred behind the bars like a live thing. Something moved in the cold, and the unicorn saw Elli‌—‌an old, bony, ragged woman who crouched in the cage rocking and warming herself before a fire that was not there. She looked so frail that the weight of the darkness should have crushed her, and so helpless and alone that the watchers should have rushed forward in pity to free her. Instead, they began to back silently away, for all the world as though Elli were stalking them. But she was not even looking at them. She sat in the dark and creaked a song to herself in a voice that sounded like a saw going through a tree, and like a tree getting ready to fall.

What is plucked will grow again,

What is slain lives on,

What is stolen will remain—

What is gone is gone.

“She doesn’t look like much, does she?” Rukh asked. “But no hero can stand before her, no god can wrestle her down, no magic can keep her out‌—‌or in, for she’s no prisoner of ours. Even while we exhibit her here, she is walking among you, touching and taking. For Elli is Old Age.”

The cold of the cage reached out to the unicorn, and wherever it touched her she grew lame and feeble. She felt herself withering, loosening, felt her beauty leaving her with her breath. Ugliness swung from her mane, dragged down her head, stripped her tail, gaunted her body, ate up her coat, and ravaged her mind with remembrance of what she had once been. Somewhere nearby, the harpy made her low, eager sound, but the unicorn would gladly have huddled in the shadow of her bronze wings to hide from this last demon. Elli’s song sawed away at her heart.

What is sea-born dies on land,

Soft is trod upon.

What is given burns the hand—

What is gone is gone.

The show was over. The crowd was stealing away, no one alone but in couples and fews and severals, strangers holding strangers’ hands, looking back often to see if Elli were following. Rukh called plaintively, “Won’t the gentlemen wait to hear the story about the satyr?” and sent a sour yowl of laughter chasing their slow flight. “Creatures of night, brought to light!” They struggled through the stiffening air, past the unicorn’s cage, and on away, with Rukh’s laughter yapping them home, and Elli still singing.

This is illusion, the unicorn told herself. This is illusion‌—‌and somehow raised a head heavy with death to stare deep into the dark of the last cage and see, not Old Age, but Mommy Fortuna herself, stretching and snickering and clambering to the ground with her old eerie ease. And the unicorn knew then that she had not become mortal and ugly at all, but she did not feel beautiful again. Perhaps that was illusion too, she thought wearily.

“I enjoyed that,” Mommy Fortuna said to Rukh. “I always do. I guess I’m just stagestruck at heart.”

“You better check on that damn harpy,” Rukh said. “I could feel her working loose this time. It was like I was a rope holding her, and she was untying me.” He shuddered and lowered his voice. “Get rid of her,” he said hoarsely. “Before she scatters us across the sky like bloody clouds. She thinks about it all the time. I can feel her thinking about it.”

“Fool, be still!” The witch’s own voice was fierce with fear. “I can turn her into wind if she escapes, or into snow, or into seven notes of music. But I choose to keep her. No other witch in the world holds a harpy captive, and none ever will. I would keep her if I could do it only by feeding her a piece of your liver every day.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Rukh said. He sidled away from her. “What if she only wanted your liver?” he demanded. “What would you do then?”

“Feed her yours anyway,” Mommy Fortuna said. “She wouldn’t know the difference. Harpies aren’t bright.”

Alone in the moonlight, the old woman glided from cage to cage, rattling locks and prodding her enchantments as a housewife squeezes melons in the market. When she came to the harpy’s cage the monster made a sound as shrill as a spear, and spread the horrid glory of its wings. For a moment it seemed to the unicorn that the bars of the cage began to wriggle and run like rain; but Mommy Fortuna crackled her twiggy fingers and the bars were iron again, and the harpy sank down on its perch, waiting.

“Not yet,” the witch said. “Not yet.” They stared at each other with the same eyes. Mommy Fortuna said, “You’re mine. If you kill me, you’re mine.” The harpy did not move, but a cloud put out the moon.

“Not yet,” Mommy Fortuna said, and she turned toward the unicorn’s cage. “Well,” she said in her sweet, smoky voice. “I had you frightened for a little while, didn’t I?” She laughed with a sound like snakes hurrying through mud, and strolled closer.

“Whatever your friend the magician may say,” she went on, “I must have some small art after all. To trick a unicorn into believing herself old and foul‌—‌that takes a certain skill, I’d say. And is it a twopenny spell that holds the Dark One prisoner? No other till I—”

The unicorn replied, “Do not boast, old woman. Your death sits in that cage and hears you.”

“Yes,” Mommy Fortuna said calmly. “But at least I know where it is. You were out on the road hunting for your own death.” She laughed again. “And I know where that one is, too. But I spared you the finding of it, and you should be grateful for that.”

Forgetting where she was, the unicorn pressed forward against the bars. They hurt her, but she did not draw back. “The Red Bull,” she said. “Where can I find the Red Bull?”

Mommy Fortuna stepped very close to the cage. “The Red Bull of King Haggard,” she muttered. “So you know of the Bull.” She showed two of her teeth. “Well, he’ll not have you,” she said. “You belong to me.”

The unicorn shook her head. “You know better,” she answered gently. “Free the harpy, while there is time, and set me free as well. Keep your poor shadows, if you will, but let us go.”

The witch’s stagnant eyes blazed up so savagely bright that a ragged company of luna moths, off to a night’s revel, fluttered straight into them and sizzled into snowy ashes. “I’d quit show business first,” she snarled. “Trudging through eternity, hauling my homemade horrors‌—‌do you think that was my dream when I was young and evil? Do you think I chose this meager magic, sprung of stupidity, because I never knew the true witchery? I play tricks with dogs and monkeys because I cannot touch the grass, but I know the difference. And now you ask me to give up the sight of you, the presence of your power. I told Rukh I’d feed his liver to the harpy if I had to, and so I would. And to keep you I’d take your friend Schmendrick, and I’d—” She raged herself to gibberish, and at last to silence.

“Speaking of livers,” the unicorn said. “Real magic can never be made by offering up someone else’s liver. You must tear out your own, and not expect to get it back. The true witches know that.”

A few grains of sand rustled down Mommy Fortuna’s cheek as she stared at the unicorn. All witches weep like that. She turned and walked swiftly toward her wagon, but suddenly she turned again and grinned her rubbly grin. “But I tricked you twice, anyway,” she said. “Did you really think that those gogglers knew you for yourself without any help from me? No, I had to give you an aspect they could understand, and a horn they could see. These days, it takes a cheap carnival witch to make folk recognize a real unicorn. You’d do much better to stay with me and be false, for in this whole world only the Red Bull will know you when he sees you.” She disappeared into her wagon, and the harpy let the moon come out again.

Schmendrick came back a little before dawn, slipping between the cages as silently as water. Only the harpy made a sound as he went by. “I couldn’t get away any sooner,” he told the unicorn. “She’s set Rukh to watching me, and he hardly ever sleeps. But I asked him a riddle, and it always takes him all night to solve riddles. Next time, I’ll tell him a joke and keep him busy for a week.”

The unicorn was gray and still. “There is magic on me,” she said. “Why did you not tell me?”

“I thought you knew,” the magician answered gently. “After all, didn’t you wonder how it could be that they recognized you?” Then he smiled, which made him look a little older. “No, of course not. You never would wonder about that.”

“There has never been a spell on me before,” the unicorn said. She shivered long and deep. “There has never been a world in which I was not known.”

“I know exactly how you feel,” Schmendrick said eagerly. The unicorn looked at him out of dark, endless eyes, and he smiled nervously and looked at his hands. “It’s a rare man who is taken for what he truly is,” he said. “There is much misjudgment in the world. Now, I knew you for a unicorn when I first saw you, and I know that I am your friend. Yet you take me for a clown, or a clod, or a betrayer, and so must I be if you see me so. The magic on you is only magic and will vanish as soon as you are free, but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem, and hardly ever what we dream. Still I have read, or heard it sung, that unicorns when time was young, could tell the difference ’twixt the two‌—‌the false shining and the true, the lips’ laugh and the heart’s rue.” His quiet voice lifted as the sky grew lighter, and for a moment the unicorn could not hear the bars whining, or the soft ringing of the harpy’s wings.

“I think you are my friend,” she said. “Will you help me?”

“If not you, no one,” the magician answered. “You are my last chance.”

One by one, the sad beasts of the Midnight Carnival came whimpering, sneezing, and shuddering awake. One had been dreaming of rocks and bugs and tender leaves; another of bounding through high, hot grass; a third of mud and blood. And one had dreamed of a hand scratching the lonely place behind its ears. Only the harpy had not slept, and now she sat staring into the sun without blinking. Schmendrick said, “If she frees herself first, we are lost.”

They heard Rukh’s voice nearby‌—‌that voice always sounded nearby‌—‌calling, “Schmendrick! Hey, Schmendrick, I got it! It’s a coffeepot, right?” The magician began to move slowly away. “Tonight,” he murmured to the unicorn. “Trust me till dawn.” And was gone with a flap and a scramble, seeming as before to leave part of himself behind. Rukh loped by the cage a moment later, all deadly economy. Hidden in her black wagon, Mommy Fortuna grumbled Elli’s song to herself.

Here is there, and high is low;

All may be undone.

What is true, no two men know—

What is gone is gone.

Soon a new catch of spectators began to come sauntering up to see the show. Rukh called them in, crying, “Creatures of night!” like an iron parrot, and Schmendrick stood on a box and did tricks. The unicorn watched him with great interest and a growing uncertainty, not of his heart but of his craft. He made an entire sow out of a sow’s ear; turned a sermon into a stone, a glass of water into a handful of water, a five of spades into a twelve of spades, and a rabbit into a goldfish that drowned. Each time he conjured up confusion, he glanced quickly at the unicorn with eyes that said, “Oh, but you know what I really did.” Once he changed a dead rose into a seed. The unicorn liked that, even though it did turn out to be a radish seed.

The show began again. Once more Rukh led the crowd from one of Mommy Fortuna’s poor fables to another. The dragon blazed, Cerberus howled for Hell to come and help him, and the satyr tempted women until they wept. They squinted and pointed at the manticore’s yellow tusks and swollen sting; grew still at the thought of the Midgard Serpent; and wondered at Arachne’s new web, which was like a fisherman’s net with the dripping moon in it. Each of them took it for a real web, but only the spider believed that it held the real moon.

This time, Rukh did not tell the story of King Phineus and the Argonauts; indeed, he hurried his sightseers past the harpy’s cage as quickly as he could, gabbling only her name and the meaning of it. The harpy smiled. Nobody saw her smile except the unicorn, and she wished that she had chanced to be looking somewhere else at the time.

When they stood in front of her cage, gazing silently in at her, the unicorn thought bitterly, Their eyes are so sad. How much sadder would they be, I wonder, if the spell that disguises me dissolved and they were left staring at a common white mare? The witch is right‌—‌not one would know me. But then a soft voice, rather like the voice of Schmendrick the Magician, said inside her, But their eyes are so sad.

And when Rukh shrieked, “Behold the Very End!” and the black hangings slithered back to reveal Elli, mumbling in the cold and the darkness, the unicorn felt the same helpless fear of growing old that set the crowd to flight, even though she knew that it was only Mommy Fortuna in the cage. She thought, The witch knows more than she knows she knows.

Night came quickly, perhaps because the harpy hurried it on. The sun sank into dirty clouds like a stone into the sea, and with about as much chance of rising again, and there was no moon, or any stars. Mommy Fortuna made her gliding rounds of the cages. The harpy did not move when she drew near, and that made the old woman stand and stare at her for a long while.

“Not yet,” she muttered at last, “not yet,” but her voice was weary and doubtful. She peered briefly at the unicorn, her eyes a stir of yellow in the greasy gloom. “Well, one day more,” she said in a cackling sigh, and turned away again.

There was no sound in the Carnival after she was gone. All the beasts were asleep, save the spider, who wove, and the harpy, who waited. Yet the night creaked tighter and tighter, until the unicorn expected it to split wide open, ripping a seam down the sky, to reveal‌—‌More bars, she thought. Where is the magician?

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago

Text

Sugar, Sugar 15

[FIFTEEN/END]

MASTERLIST

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, violence, mean sugary Steve

This is a dark! sugar daddy! Steve fic. Obvious AU so please keep that in mind. :) That being said, it will be an explicit fic (18+) with noncon. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

(This chapter: violence, threats, fear :O)

Series Summary: The reader is struggling in the big city but find opportunity before her. Will she take it?

This Chapter: The wedding day approaches but not everything goes to plan.

Author Notes: So this is another series wrapped up after a grueling two years, haha. Sorry y’all.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

🍭 🍭 🍭

The floor length mirror was trimmed with twisted gold. You stared at your reflection as your shaky hands pressed against the front of the ivory dress. The cut hid the small bump but you could not forget it. Ever since you confessed, it all happened so fast; the wedding was pushed up, the dress tailored and expedited, and invitations sent out in a rush.

It all felt surreal. The day had come but you just couldn’t accept it. How could you go through those doors and smile through it all?

You closed your eyes and let your breath out. They would knock when it was your time. Your father would be waiting to walk you down the aisle. The guests waited eagerly for the most talked about ceremony in the city. And you still felt like just a footnote in your own wedding.

You moved away from the mirror and sat unsteadily, gripping the arms of the cushioned chair, careful not to catch your veil under you. That night you told him, that was the final straw. But you didn’t forget what Sasha said. You took a picture of the broken door and wrote down the entire scene. You sent it to yourself in an email as proof.

That wasn’t the last time. You recorded Steve one day when he came in as you were texting your sister about the new date. You hadn’t answered his last message about your first appointment with the doctor. He was livid and you sat and listened to him rant as the red dots pulsed. You wrote down every instance, every time he made you appease him, every terrifying word.

Then there were the police reports. Nothing more than words in a filing cabinet but the night he choked you was just the beginning. He threatened to break your finger when you took your ring off because your hands were swelling. Then he broke your laptop when you didn’t pay him enough attention.

As the wedding loomed closer, he only seemed to get worse. He was clingy, always touching you, marveling over your stomach. He checked in almost every hour on the hour when he was working, and you weren’t stupid enough not to notice that the building was being watched.

It was like you were living two lives and yet you were entirely trapped with him. What good could the emails do? Or the reports when the police wouldn’t act on them? You were going to marry this man and that would be the end of it; of you, of your life.

Knuckles tapped on the door and you stood. You crossed the room and inched it open the door. You flinched as you were met by an unexpected and uninvited guest.

“Sasha?” you gasped.

“You’re marrying him then?” he held the handle but you didn’t try to close the door, “the account gone, I heard nothing from you.”

“I… I’m scared,” you admitted, “when he found out, I thought he was going to--” you shook your head. He wouldn’t actually kill you.

“You know it’s not too late,” Sasha urged.

“You can’t be here, it he finds out, he’ll--”

“I’ll defend myself,” Sasha snarled uncharacteristically, “I’ll give him what he deserves.’

“No, I don’t want you to get hurt. You need to go,” you begged as you glanced past him furtively.

“I will. Come with me,” he said, “just go. Everyone’s distracted, they won’t know--”

“I can’t just leave. You don’t understand--”

“No, you don’t understand,” he argued, “if you marry him, it all gets so much more complicated. I told you that day at the café. It will be harder to fight after the vows, but right now, you can still get out.”

“And go where?”

He swallowed and looked down the hall. You could hear the distant murmur of the crowd.

“Did you do any of it? Keep a journal? Something?” he asked.

“I tried. I went to the police but nothing,” you sniffed and gripped the door tight.

“Nothing yet but that’s a start,” he chewed the inside of his lip.

“Why are you here? Why is this so important to you?”

“Because I can do something,” he hissed, “because I can’t live with it if I don’t. So come on. Come with me, I got a bigger place. It’ll have to do for now and then we’ll work on getting you standing, getting the baby somewhere to grow--”

“Am I trading him for you?”

“I’m your friend,” he said evenly, “that will never change. All I want is you safe. If it makes you feel better, I’ll sleep in the hall. You can lock me out and I’ll sleep against the door. But I came down here knowing I wouldn’t leave without you.”

“It’s a sweet fantasy but--”

“Come on,” he grabbed your hand and pushed the door open, “please, don’t go with him. It doesn’t end well. You don’t get out. It doesn’t get better.”

“I have nothing,” you quavered.

“You have me,” he said, “please don’t make me walk out of here alone.”

“I….” you uttered as your heart squeezed. “He’ll come after you.”

“Good, I want him to,” he clung to you, “please?”

You inhaled and heard the voices. Your father and your sister. You had no time to think but you knew it was your only chance.

“Let’s go,” you lifted your skirt and pulled the door shut behind you as you stepped out, “now.”

He held onto your hand as you rushed away from the voices and skirted around the corner. Sasha urged you on down the back stairs and through the maze like halls of the extravagant church. You nearly tumbled down the stairs and he caught you as you came along the narrow passage beside the main room, the guests and groom just on the other side of the wall.

You came out into the sunlight and Sasha lifted the train of your skirts as he directed you over the grass. our heels sank into the dirt as you rushed over and the organ began to play Here Comes the Bride. As he helped stuff the swathes of fabric in behind you in his modest car, the music stopped suddenly.

He closed the door as you were squished in the back seat amid your layered skirts and he got in the front. The engine turned and he nearly side swept another car as he pulled out without looking. You peeked back behind you but saw no one coming down the large steps of the church.

He turned the corner and sidled in behind a yellow cab. He looked at you in the mirror and nodded. You bit your lips nervously as reality sank in. Your chest hammered and your entire body buzzed with adrenaline. You knew it was only the beginning.

🍭

The day passed in a daze. You sat in your wedding dress waiting for all hell to break loose. Sasha sat with a beer, silently, and tapped his foot endlessly. When the silence was too much, he turned on the television but neither of you paid any attention to the old sitcom.

When the trance of disbelief dissipated, he showed you around his spacious loft. He was being paid well by Stark but you worried how long he would stay on the payroll after what he’d done. Steve wasn’t stupid and there were more photographers at the church then you’d seen collectively over the last year and a half.

“This is the second bedroom,” he showed you into a room with gleaming windows. There was a bed, a dresser, curtains, a cozy rug, all carefully selected, “I thought you’d be here sooner.”

Your eyes lingered on the box leaned against the far wall. A crib.

“Didn’t know how long…” his voice trailed off as he followed your eye line, “I’m not trying to be him. You can go anytime but I… you have a place here.”

Your eyes welled and you blotted them with your knuckles, the rough lace of your gloves scratching your cheeks, “you did all this for me?”

“I told you, I’d do anything,” he said.

“But… Sasha, I don’t--”

“I don’t expect anything from you. High school was a long time ago but you made it bearable for the biggest dweeb in the class.” He sighed and paced a circle around the room, “you know, I had the biggest crush on you. That doesn’t mean anything now, it doesn’t mean I want you to fall into my arms, but it means I want to help you. It’s the right thing to do, somehow I made a career of doing the right thing so what’s one more?”

You felt your chest sink and you covered your cheeks with your hands, “Sasha?”

“Please,” he cringed, “I was a teen boy, I think I had a thing for Oprah once. Really, it’s just… we’re friends. We’ll always be friends.”

“I can’t…” you sniffled and dropped your hands, “I don’t deserve any of this.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Sasha intoned, “and you don’t deserve to live like that. I know this isn’t much but I know you. You’ll find your way, you just got a little lost.”

“I…” you shook your head speechless.

“We’ll figure everything else out tomorrow. You can borrow some of my clothes for tonight and then we can see about retrieving your things from Steve,” he neared the door and stopped beside you, “or we can say fuck it and you can start all over.”

You turned and slung your arms around him. You buried your face against his shoulder as tears spilled out onto his jacket.

“How did you know?” you sobbed.

“That day at the shower,” he rubbed your back gently, “you know, lawyers learn how to read people and you never were very good at subtlety.”

“No,” you chuckled through your tears, “No, it’s why I was great as a bard.”

“Mmm,” he grumbled, “if that’s how you remember it.”

🍭

It felt like Sasha was gone forever but when you checked the clock, it had only been twenty minutes.

You sat on the couch with your feet under you as you watched the news and rocked nervously. All anyone was talking about was Steve Rogers’ runaway bride. Your face was everywhere and the statement issued by Steve made it all the worse.

He painted you as a gold-digger, as an adulterer, as a swindler. He was the heartbroken fiancé and you were the wrongdoer. You knew it would go this way but expectation never softened reality.

You flinched as the lock turned and Sasha entered with a bag in hand. He came to the couch and set it down beside you.

“I don’t know about my taste in women's clothes but those should do,” he said as he checked his watch, “we should go soon.”

“Yeah,” you stood and opened the bag to reveal the lavender blouse and dark jeans, “you really didn’t have to--”

“You kidding, he’s gonna be surrounded by cameras. You can’t win his game if you don’t play it. I’ve dealt with his type before, they’re the ones who need lawyers on standby,” he sneered, “did you eat?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you swiped up the bag and headed for the hallway, “it was good.”

“No problem,” he shrugged as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv, “and ignore all that nonsense.”

You got dressed and emerged as your anxiety grew to impatience. You left the apartment in brittle silence and the car ride fed the uneasy bubbling of your stomach. .

As you came up to Steve’s building, you sat for a moment before you got out. Sasha followed and shoulder away the cameras as you neared the front door

The elevator moved slowly and fidgeted uncontrollably as it dinged on Steve’s floor. You swallowed and braced yourself to face Steve. Sasha kept a few feet back as you walked down the hall and stopped at the door. You knocked as you found it locked.

It was a while before it opened but when it did, you were startled as Steve grabbed the front of your blouse and wrenched you inside. He spun you but quickly released you as he was knocked off balance and sent sprawling over the floor. Sasha stood above him with his hands in fists.

“Hey,” he pointed at Steve then looked at you, “you okay?”

You nodded as Steve glared between the two of you and cautiously got to his feet, “so you brought your little boyfriend?”

“She’s here to get her stuff. We thought we’d avoid a police escort, as her lawyer I thought it prudent, but we can always make that phone call,” Sasha said sternly, “she is entitled to her possessions.”

“Her stuff? I paid for every single thing she has to her name. Hers? Mine.” Steve spat and reared on you again, only to be caught by Sasha as he inserted himself between you.

“You will not touch her again. Those things you bought for her were gifts. You have no legal rights to them once they are given. She will take her clothes, her phone, and any other necessities.”

“Pfft, she’s not taking anything. She’s not going anywhere,” Steve growled, “she not yours--”

“I am certain the photogs would appreciate a show,” Sasha pulled out his phone, “police? That can only be a domestic dispute.”

Steve squinted and his nose flared as he looked at you over Sasha’s shoulder, “fucking slut.” He crossed his arms and stepped aside, “get your shit, get out…” he hissed, “but I have my rights too. You will not keep me from my baby.”

“That will be settled in court,” Sasha replied coolly, “go on, get your things.”

He waved you past him as he kept you shield from Steve. He was of a height with Steve but not as broad. Even so, you felt safe behind him. You rushed down to the bedroom and quickly gathered up your toiletries and those clothes you didn’t absolutely hate. Your phone screen was shattered but you took it anyway.

As you emerged again, a bag slung on your shoulder, you slid the ring from your finger.

“You can keep the rest,” you said as you placed the band on the small round table just inside the front room, “goodbye Steve.”

“Goodbye? Goodbye?” he spat, “this isn’t the end and you fucking know it.”

“Calm down,” Sasha warned.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” Steve shoved him, “I should fucking smash your head in--”

“I’d like you to try,” Sasha stood his ground, “really. You think the court would let a violent man be around an infant?”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes. He backed down and shouldered by Sasha. “Get the fuck out.”

You left quickly. You had no desire to hang around. As you stepped onto the elevator, Sasha softly touched your elbow and you winced. The bag fell to your elbow and he quickly scooped it up and heaved it over his own shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said, “he was so angry. I--”

“I was stupid, we should’ve brought the police. Fuck the cameras,” he said, “from this point on, no contact with him whatsoever. Only through me and the court. No talking to reporters, no nothing.”

“Yeah, that won’t be hard,” you uttered as he led you out of the elevator.

As you came outside, cameras flashed and voices called out. You collided with Sasha as he was blocked by a photographer shouting questions, “is it true you’re pregnant? Is it Steve’s?”

“My client will not be answering questions,” Sasha kept on and made a path for you, “go, she’s not answering any of your questions.”

He elbowed past more cameras and opened the car door for you. You fell inside and quickly huddled down in your seat. As he sat behind the wheel, he mumbled and pulled out into traffic. He gripped the wheel tightly and pushed himself back into the vinyl.

“That asshole,” he said, “he’s gonna want the paternity test. This isn’t gonna be pretty.”

“I can’t… he fucking told them. I mean, I’m not surprised but… god,” you grimaced.

“We’ll get the test done before he makes a formal request,” Sasha said, “it shows transparency and when we hand over those results, we’ll include those police reports too.”

“Police reports?” you blinked.

“Sorry, I… It’s a suggestion,” he said tersely, “but he’s going to make this a trial by media.”

“No, no, I want to,” you said firmly, “I want everyone to know the real Steve Rogers.”

🍭

‘I was just like many struggling in the city. I worked a low-paying job in data entry and lived in an apartment which was little more than a box. The dreams of the big city were passing me by as there was little opportunity to be found.

Then I met Steve Rogers. Like a dream or a Lifetime movie. I was in debt, I was desperate, and he offered me a safety net. I can own my part in the relationship; I was interested and I accepted his generosity. I was all too happy with the arrangement.

That was until I found out that it was all based on a lie. I didn’t know that he had access to my accounts even before I knew him, that he had used his connections to force me into that dire situation. And I could not know the real man behind the billionaire façade.

It was little things at first. Any woman loves to feel wanted but his possessiveness soon turned to control. He kept me isolated from my own family and did not permit me to do anything without his permission. His affection turned to obsession and when it was not reciprocated he forced it from me.

He took me on vacation and did not allow me to wear clothes. He chose what I wore, how I looked, and what I did. He coerced me into acts I was reluctant about, and when he was too rough, he did not listen to my pleas for him to stop.

When I tried to leave him, he followed me and dragged me back. He had me watched by PIs and surveilled all my communications. He used his financial power to control me and when that did not work, he used his physical power.

Steve Rogers abused me. He yelled in my face, he threatened my family, and he choked me.

Steve Rogers raped me. He expected me to bend to his will whenever he desired and when I refused, he held me down and did what he wanted.

Steve Rogers took my whole life and when I chose to leave, he set his eyes on the life inside of me.

The only thing I want from him is freedom. I want to live safely with my child and I want that child to never experience the abuse of their father. I never want anyone to know that horror again which is why I have written this and released the police records. I am not asking for anything but peace for me and my unborn child.’

The statement was carefully edited by Sasha. You reread the font across the glossy pages of Vanity Fair, the article spliced with excerpts not only from the police reports, but your own emailed accounts of your relationship, and the whole thing began with an image of that broken bathroom door.

It was two months since you ran away from the altar but life was not a romcom. It was a disaster. Even with the article, you knew not all would believe you. You knew it would open you to doubt and vitriol. And you knew Steve would have a response.

You closed the magazine and groaned as you rubbed your hips. Freedom didn’t feel so… freeing. There was a long way to go; court dates, doctor’s appointment, and depositions. But it was a start.

You rested your hand on your stomach and pushed on the arm of the couch as you stood stiffly. When you were halfway up, you felt a hand on your elbow and Sasha helped you stand straight. You smiled guiltily. You’d grown a lot in the last few weeks and still had nearly four months to go.

“The reviews are good,” he said, “I know that is kinda grim but… people seem to believe you.”

“Seem to?” you echoed as you went to the kitchen and pulled out the container of sliced strawberries, “or they don’t?”

“Well,” he leaned on the counter as he watched you add too much cream to the berries and smiled, “Stark Industries has cut ties with Shield, Inc. and Tony has made a sizeable donation to several shelters across the city,” he cupped his chin coyly as he leaned on his elbow, “and will be covering legal costs for the support hearings seeing as I can’t legally represent you anymore.”

“Oh,” your mouth fell open before you could spray some cream onto your tongue, “when were you going to tell me this?”

“I’m telling you now,” he crossed his arms as he shifted them further over the island, “I thought I’d give the good news first.”

“And the bad?” you put down the can of cream as you neared the marble across from him.

“I have several requests for interviews and I think you should do at least one,” he said, “I know you hate reporters and all that but… with a little Rogers baby on board, it’s just another part of the process.”

“Oh, and what should I tell them,” you edged around the counter towards him, “that I moved? That I found someone better?” He turned to you, his lips curved as he leaned in and you turned your face up to peck his lips, “or maybe I should tell them I’m single? Keep the intrigue?”

“As long as you tell them I’m handsome, I don’t mind,” he purred as he placed his hand on your side.

“Oh, how could I leave that out?” you cooed and kissed him again, “patient, loving, kind… but what a geek?”

“A geek?” he smirked and framed your chin with his hands, “says the dungeon master.”

You giggled and ran your hands up his chest, “someone’s gotta raise this little bard well.”

“Oh, no, no, she’s not gonna be a bard. Maybe a cleric?”

“No way! That’s lame,” you chirped, “how about… a sorcerer? Ours is a bit lacking.”

“Excuse you,” he quipped, “what was your AC again? Maybe next session I’ll run out of healing spells.”

“See?” you taunted, “geek.”

You drew him to you until he was pressed to your belly and he swept you up in a kiss. You rocked with him as he turned you against the counter and slowly parted.

You squeezed his wrist as you went back around to your strawberries and cream. You took a spoon and scooped up a mouthful as you slid your phone towards you. Sasha stayed as he was, watching you scroll through the emails and piled up texts.

You stopped as one blared in all caps. There was no name, only ‘Private’. You opened the conversation and found a dozen bubbles; ‘THIS ISN’T OVER’, ‘HE CAN’T KEEP YOUR FROM ME’, ‘CUTE, YOU THINK PEOPLE BELIEVE YOUR SHIT.’ Another message blipped up, an image and you dropped your spoon as it opened.

You saw the picture of your sister and her son. You shook as you put your hand down on the counter and choked on the cream.

“What?” Sasha reached over and turned your phone to him, “Shit,” he sighed and blocked the number, “he’s just stacking the evidence against himself.”

“I--” you blinked as tears boiled behind your eyes.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” he screencapped the conversation, “this just makes the case even easier.”

“No, I will always be afraid of him,” you said as you touched your stomach, “it’s not just about me anymore.”

“And it’s not just you anymore,” he took your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, “we’ve been through worse. If we can get through a cave full of orcs, we can defeat Steve Rogers.”

END (or is it?)

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sugar daddy au #au #sugar daddy!steve Rogers #sugar sugar #marvel #mcu #captain america

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blueeyedgeorgie · 3 years ago

Text

Scandalous(2)

An infamous Influencer that is known for getting into drama befriends ImAllexx, George doesn’t trust them one bit.

Gif cred. @sdmngifs

Pairing: George Memeulous x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k+

Pronouns: They/Them

______________

A few days had passed since George and Alex had talked about Y/n coming to the UK. Only in an hour or two, George would have to go out with Alex and a few other friends to meet Y/n for the first time. There was no point in lying, George was still a bit nervous about them, how could he be sure Y/n wasn't going to try and pull something on them?

The brunette found himself standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom. He wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans, a faded mark sat on his old school Vans, he had tried to get it off when it first appeared, but only had it fade so the mark had become not as noticeable as it used to be. George had just spent the last thirty minutes working on his appearance, if he was going out for drinks, he wanted to look good. And with a touch of cologne, George made his way out into the living room. Alex sat on the couch scrolling through Instagram, he had messed with his hair, making it look a bit neater than usual.

The blue-eyed male made his way over to the side of the couch,"Are we going soon, or not?" A denim jacket was tossed over the arm of the piece of furniture, he picked the item of clothing, beginning to put it on.

"Yeah, I was just waiting for you," Alex tucked his phone away into his pocket as he stood up.

"Do we have to pick up Y/n, or are they going to get to the bar on their own?" George made his way over to the front door as his roommate had turned of the last light that had been left on.

"They said they'll just Uber to the bar, so we won't have to worry about picking them up."

The car ride to the bar was quiet, George had gotten lost in his thoughts as he stared out of the passenger's window. The dumpster fire could only happen so soon, Y/n wasn't a good person. He had seen their name in too many scandals, if they somehow ended up dragging him or his friends into something that could end their careers, he'd be absolutely livid.

As soon as they had entered the bar, both of the boys had received a text from Will, telling them he could spot them from the table. After taking a moment to have his eyes glaze over the scene, Alex's eyes landed on Will and his girlfriend. They sat at a decent-sized table, there would definitely be enough room for everyone.

Once George had taken a seat and started a conversation with his friends, the problematic YouTuber had disappeared from his mind. It felt good to get out with friends again, it had been a while since the last time he had been out. Just then, George had noticed Alex was on a call. Maybe he was talking to Y/n. If he was talking to them, a million different things could be happening. George had flickered his eyes away from his roommate, trying to keep him from noticing he was watching.

"Yeah, no problem, I'll be out in a minute." George could hear Alex faintly as the music in the background almost drowned out his voice. Just as the brunette turned to George, Alex placed his phone into his back pocket. "Hey, James is outside with Aria. He dropped their keys so I'm gonna go and help them out. Watch my beer." He now raised his voice, making himself loud enough for George to hear him.

"Alright, I'll keep my eyes on it," George flashed a small grin. Part of him was a bit happier knowing Y/n wasn't here yet, but the other half of him knew any minute they could show up.

As soon as Alex had disappeared from his sight, it had only taken a moment before Will had spoken up. "You ready to meet them?"

Pulling his gaze away from where he last saw Alex, George turned back to face his other friend. "Not at all, I'm just gonna try and keep my distance for the next couple of days."

"Hopefully they don't end up screwing us over," Will took a sip of his beer, taking a moment to look around for any sign of Y/n.

"Exactly why I'm going to try and stay as far away as possible from them," the blue-eyed man replied, he began to stare off into nothing.

"I've heard Y/n has slept with plenty of people," Will shook his head as he placed his beer back down. "I hope Alex is stupid enough to end up in bed with them."

"I doubt Alex would do something like that, he's smarter than that." George's eyes landed on a pair of familiar faces approaching the table. James and Aria had finally entered the bar.

"Hey guys," James grinned as he came into earshot of the table.

"Hey, is Alex with you?" George had noticed his flatmate hadn't followed Aria and James in. Or maybe George just hadn't seen Alex yet in the crowded building.

"He's still outside, Y/n showed up."

This was the big moment, he was finally going to meet the scandalous influencer. He could tell he had become a bit more nervous. It felt as though something in his stomach tied up into a knot.

"I stole a glance at Y/n before walking in and they're much prettier in person. They looked like a model," George overheard Aria speak to Mia. He continued to keep an eye out for his flatmate, waiting to spot him anywhere.

His blue eyes finally landed on a 5'7 man walked alongside someone else. Y/n and Alex were approaching the table as they smiled, each spoke to one another as they were already close friends. As their head turned, Y/n's eyes met George's, and just for a short moment, Y/n smiled at him and waved. Y/n was quite attractive just as Aria said, but George knew he had to be wary.

'They're only here to screw us over,' George averted his gaze from Y/n as he thought to himself.

"Hey guys!" As soon as Y/n came into earshot of the table, they spoke with a smile on their face. One by one, they introduced themself to each person. A handshake to Will, a hug to Mia, a side hug to James, a hug to Aria, and George... Y/n stuck her hand out with a smile, only for him to hesitantly shake her hand with a small, fake smile plastered on his face. As soon as introductions were over, Y/n took a seat between Mia and Alex, sitting across from George.

Once again, they made eye contact. Something shot down George's spine this time when he looked Y/n in the eye. 'They've seen your identity, you're gonna have to hang around them for the next couple of days... what if there's any chance Y/n snaps a picture of him?' George took a sip of his drink, his mind starting to race with thoughts as he tried to find some way to distract himself. Staring up at the ceiling, he had started to pay so much more attention to the roof decor.

But as the night rolled on, George had continued to steal glances at Y/n. he found himself worrying every time they pulled out their phone. Every now and then, Y/n would make eye contact with George, only to give a small wave and an awkward smile. One thing George noticed was how Y/n hadn't bothered to consume one drop of alcohol. They had started the night off with water, only to get a virgin margarita at some point.

"you're acting like a nonce with the way you look at them." Will had leaned over, making sure to whisper in George's ear to keep Y/n from overhearing him. "Y/n doesn't seem that bad as people make them out to be. Relax, George."

You've only know them personally for 2 hours," George scoffed quietly. Y/n's gaze turned to the pair of men sitting across from them.

"You alright, George?"

"Just peachy," he replied, taking a sip of his beer as he looked away from Y/n.

"Just stop acting like a hardass, try and be more open and nice to them. You're the only one acting bitter at this table."

George had been handed a cell phone, Y/n stood in front of him with a sincere smile. "Hey, I was hoping you could take a photo of me with the group? I thought it'd be best if I asked you, after all you are hiding your identity..."

"Uh, yeah. Sure," George took a step back as he lifted the cell phone. Quickly he snapped a few shots of the group before handing the phone back to Y/n.

"Wow, thank you. These are really good," Y/n smiled down at their phone as they swiped through the few photos George had taken.

"George did great," Alex had snuck a peek of the photos from over Y/n's shoulder.

"Hey, Y/n can you send some of those to me?" Mia spoke up before taking a sip of her cocktail.

"Me too!" Aria added on.

Eventually, one by one everyone made their exit. Mia and Will had left together, so did Aria and James. Y/n had decided they would just uber back to their hotel after paying for their drinks.

"You know, we wouldn't mind dropping you off," Alex spoke as the trio walked out of the bar.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to take up any more of your time tonight."

"It's fine, Y/n. You're our guest, we wouldn't mind one bit," Alex replied, implying that he was speaking for both himself and George. George didn't say anything as his flatmate continued to speak.

The car ride was quiet. Y/n sat in the back of the car as they stared out the window. Something inside Alex was worried Y/n had found the silence awkward, when really they found it peaceful.

"How does the time difference feel for you, Y/n?" Alex broke the silence as he looked through the driver's mirror at the other influencer for a brief moment.

"It definitely feels different. It's only like 3 pm in LA at the moment." Y/n turned to look at Alex, "But I still need to get to sleep, I don't' wanna be sleep deprived tomorrow while we're doing stuff."

Soon enough, the car had pulled up to the Mandarin hotel. Stepping out of the vehicle, Y/n had thanked both George and Alex for a wonderful night before heading towards the entrance of the building.

George watched as Y/n disappeared behind the doors, leaving Alex to begin driving away from the building. As soon as they were out of the parking lot, Alex began to speak. "So what do you think of Y/n?"

"They seem fine, I'm just worried they'll fuck us over."

"Y/n isn't as bad of a person as people make them out to be, George."

"You cannot be that stupid, Alex."

"You shouldn't be the one to talk, George. Have you been talking to them for months? Have you developed a good friendship with them? Why would they put so much time towards developing a friendship with me if they had planned to show up and screw me and my friends over?"

"You cannot know someone from only texting and FaceTiming."

At this point, Alex had nothing to say to George. The car ride back to the flat had been filled with tension for the rest of the time. As soon as they pulled into the parking lot, Alex got out of the car. George sat there for a moment as he thought to himself. He had begun to massage his temples for a brief moment. He just needed to recollect himself and apologize tomorrow.

Cardigan had played as Y/n found themself dancing around their suite in a bathrobe. Of course, they made sure the music was being played at a respectable tone, they didn't want to upset anyone. Y/n had just got out of the shower, after a long night that was just the one thing they needed. But before they knew it, their music ended. Y/n looked over to where their phone had been placed on a table.

Bretman was calling. Picking up the phone, Y/n took a seat on the edge of their bed before answering the call.

"You interrupted Folklore."

"damn alright bitch, I thought you'd be happy I called you."

"I'm always happy to hear your voice, Bret," Y/n let out a chuckle from their friend's sense of humor. "How's it been back at home?"

"Same old, same old I guess. It's just been a bit more boring."

"I didn't think you'd notice my absence."

"N/n, I come over to your house like eight days a week, of fucking course I'm gonna notice my best bitch isn't there." Sass could be heard in Bretman's voice as he spoke, "But anyway, spot. any cute guys yet?"

"Wow, asking about the guys before asking how's my day been."

"Oh, I'm sorry, how was your day, your highness?"

"It was alright, when I got here it was like five pm, it took me the whole day just to get over here," Y/n smiled, remembering how quickly the day seemed to pass by.

"How'd that go?"

"Smooth, as usual."

"That's good to hear, anyways... back to the guys."

Letting out a small laugh, Y/n leaned back, laying down on their bed now. "Well I don't really think anyone caught my eye. Two of the guys I met had girlfriends already, and Alex is just a friend." That was a lie. There had been one person that caught Y/n's eye as soon as they saw him. It was Alex's flatmate, George. He did seem quite closed off, but Y/n couldn't help but find him quite attractive.

Y/n absolutely didn't want any way for George's name to get tossed around. Yes, he had over four million subscribers so he was already pretty well known, but Y/n didn't want there to be any chance of other people trying to find his identity. They knew a lot of snakes, Y/n just didn't want to be the reason one of Alex's friends could get caught up in a scandal.

"Dam, that sucks babe. I thought British guys were supposed to be hot."

"It's fine, Bret. Anyways, I think I'm gonna go to bed now. It's late here."

"Well it's only 3:30 for me, so I don't know how you're gonna fall asleep."

"I'll find a way."

"Please don't hang up yet, Y/n. It feels like forever since we last talked," Bretman had resorted to whining over the phone. He just wanted his friend to stay on the call longer.

"Bye, Bret," Y/n cooed softly. As they hung up, they could hear Bretman's whining being cut off.

After a few moments of getting settled, Y/n found themself laying in bed. The curtains had been pulled back, revealing London through their windows. Lights had been shining throughout the city, pulling Y/n's attention away from trying to rest.

They just couldn't find themself going to sleep anytime soon, their head was full of thoughts. George was stuck on their mind, he was so cold tonight. Even if it only hurt their feelings a small bit, they didn't show it. Y/n didn't want to ruin the night by being in a sour mood from how George acted. They could understand why he acted the way he did by the end of the night.

He probably knew about how Y/n had been caught up in quite a few scandals in the past, he probably thought they weren't a good person. They just wished there was some way they could break through to George, they weren't such a bad guy at the end of the day. Alex had talked about his flatmate, George always seemed like a loveable dork.

Before they knew it, they had been romanticizing the thought of being in a relationship with George. Y/n needed to remind themself; it's not going to happen. George was an incredibly private person, he would never even consider dating someone like them.

Y/n was just an infamous influencer who would get attention no matter where they were. George was a smaller influencer compared to Y/n, someone who wouldn't even consider filming a video outside of his bedroom.

Letting out a sigh, Y/n turned to their side, closing their eyes. Maybe if they fell asleep they could get all of this out of their mind.

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emiliaheartfeel · 4 years ago

Text

Supergirl

Chapter 7: Bro Code

AN: Atsumu did a shitty thing, that I do not condone. Hope your ready to feel smad!

It’s been two weeks since you started ignoring and avoiding Atsumu. You didn’t even reply to his message and he has been too stubborn to apologize. It’s starting to get on Osamu’s nerves because avoiding Atsumu included avoiding Osamu. He hasn’t seen or heard from you and Atsumu has been a bitch the whole time too. The coach had to bench cause he was being down right cruel to his own teammates. Osamu can’t talk to you and he hasn’t wanted to ask Atsumu, but this had gotten ridiculous and the team agrees. Kita calls a team meeting after practice one day. Atsumu is extremely bitter and becomes even more annoyed when all heads turn to him.

“What happened with you Atsumu?”

“I don’t know what your fucking talking about!”

“You have been rather irritable as of late”

“What he means is you have been a bitch.”

“In a sense, yes”

“I am always like this”

“Like hell you are man”

“Why don’t you all just leave me hell alone!”

Osamu can’t take it anymore and lunges at he’s brother in pure fury. This already was more intense then their usual petty fights. Fights about you always were. Osamu has Atsumu pinned under him hands in his collar holding him down. Both Aran and Kita are ready to get involved but Osamu sends them a nasty glare.

“What. The. Fuck. Did you do?”

“I already told you I don’t know what you are talking about”

“Bull fucking shit. Y/N is so mad at YOU she isn’t even talking to me”

“She chose you,”

“What”

“Three months ago she chose you,”

Osamu is lost now. What was Atsumu on about. Confusion is all he feels as he watches Atsumu looks broken. Years ago Atsumu was the first twin to tell the other he loved you Osamu revealed he did too a few months later.

“Last time she was in town she came to me to talk about you,”

“I don’t understand she barely even said goodbye when she left.”

“Because I had slept with her,”

Osamu’s mind goes blank for a moment before he pulls his fist back in punches Atsumu in the nose hard enough he feels a crunch. Aran grabs his arm as he pulled again to hit his twin again. He looks feral and Atsumu looks torn and ashamed. He’s not even fighting back not making eye contact with anyone.

“You! What!!”

Atsumu doesn’t answer finding his hands much more interesting. The team is stunned into silence this wasn’t the petty bullshit they were expecting. This was deep and personal.

“Answer! Me!”

“She loved you... Loves you”

“...”

“She came to me nervous a few nights before she was leaving to ask me a question”

You were in the Miya house in your pjs when you are pacing in the hall. Your right foot goes to rub up and down you left calf a sign of pure nerves for you. Atsumu raises an eyebrow at you with an annoying teasing smirk.

“What’s up, Supergirl,”

“Umm..I...”

“What? Finally confessing your undying love to the lesser twin,”

He knew. Knew you had a crush on Osamu. You had told him a year ago, but you hadn’t acted on believing it would make your relationship with both the twins weird which Atsumu fully agreed with.

“Haha, no it’s something else...”

“Come on, you can always tell the great and generous Atsumu what’s troubling you”

“I don’t think I want to”

“Oh! She doesn’t want my advise! I am not good enough to give you my advise! Oh the betrayal. That promise when you were 8 and sobbing on front porch and I told you I always got you. That means nothing to you appare...”

“You dramatic bitch.”

*overdramatic sigh*

“Oh my god! Fine...I....to...Osamu...”

“What was that?”

“I want to give Osamu my virginity!”

“Oh”

Something in him really broke. Knowing you loved Osamu was and not acting on it was one thing, but this would definitely lead to you and his brother dating. He couldn’t handle if you two actively together. He couldn’t watch you be with another man.

“What’s that look for”

“I just think that’s a bad idea”

“Why?”

“Tell me have you really thought this through”

“Yes I want my first time to be with someone a love and trust,”

“Then let me do it!”

“What?”

He knew he was running purely on emotions and needs a cover and fast. He’s panicking this isn’t how he imagined confessing to you. He had even thought about ever confessing to you.

“We love each other and you trust me”

“You know that’s different!”

“Not really it’s going be completely yours decision everything. Think about how weird it’ll if he says no or worse he says yes and doesn’t have feelings for you. Having sex with someone you love, but doesn’t love you is a new kind of torture that I don’t want you to go through!”

“How do you know he doesn’t love me!”

“I just do!”

“How!”

“He told me!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Atsumu I just love Y/N she’s like the perfect little sister!”

He know it was fucked up. He knew he was breaking her heart and lying to do it.

“Obviously I am not saying you need to have sex with me, but I am your safest bet,”

“I need to go home,”

“Let me walk you then”

“I don’t think that’s necessary”

“No it’s not but I need you to understand I am not trying to actively sleep with you. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

BULLSHIT! He was a liar and a horrible friend.

“Atsumu I just found out the guy I have been in love of with for years doesn’t love me and his brother, who looks exactly like him, offers sex. I am going to be fucking hurt! I need time to think and get over Osamu. And rethink shit about my virginity,”

He knew this wasn’t gonna be good for you. You already looked destroyed and all he wanted to do was hold you, but he knew that might just confuse you. Though the really dark voice in him wanted you confused, cause maybe then you would finally pick him. He couldn’t go that far. Everything had to be your choice.

‘But is it really her choice. You lied so she wanted go to Osamu, to make you seem more attractive more desirable. You are soliciting sex from the girl you claim to live because you are jealous and maybe this is the closest you’ll ever get to her loving you. You thought if you can’t have love, lust is just as good.’ He thought to himself. Guilt riddled him before you were even out the door.

“Y/N forget I said anything. You should love and trust the man you give your first to.”

You walk out and don’t back in until a few days later. Osamu isn’t home again. You knew that and Atsumu knew you knew it. He’s hesitant to even approach you, but it is clear he is who you came to see.

“I need to know this won’t change anything between us,”

“What won’t?”

“That if I give you my virginity. Your still my friend Atsumu. I can’t live my life with out you. You were right I didn’t think it through. Even if Osamu did love me it doesn’t mean we wouldn’t eventually fall out of love and then he would just be out of my life right. I need you by my side even if he isn’t.”

It almost sounded like a love confession to Atsumu, but he knows better. You are so desperate to keep Osamu in your life you have torn yourself a part to hide that you loved him. You just assumed Atsumu was always going to be there, you just need him to say it. It not like Osamu where you won’t even risk it. Atsumu, he knew you could live without him you just don’t want to.

“No matter we are gonna be weird with each other we both have to have faith in each other, but Y/N I was talking out my ass. It annoyed me that you were gonna have sex with Osamu over me. Yeah it doesn’t make sense but you know how competitive we are. You don’t got to do this. We pretend this never happen and have a sundae night.”

“I am sure Atsumu.”

That’s what he told his teammates and that’s how it went down. Osamu is livid. Aran is holding him tightly as Kita had put tape over his mouth so Atsumu could tell his story without interruptions. Everyone taking it all in.

“Wait then why is she mad now?”

Atsumu pulls out his phone and shows them the texts he sent.

“You are an idiot”

As soon as Osamu signals he is calm enough Aran slowly and with hesitation let’s him go. As he turns to his twin face hardened and swallows tightly.

“She can never know you lied”

“...what”

“It would ruin her, Atsumu. You are her confidant and you took advantage of her. She can’t know. We pretend it never happened, we follow our bro code and neither of us go for her ever. We be the best big brothers we can. Nothing changes between us.”

“...I”

“Shut up! You did a terrible thing and should be treating her like a goddess until one of you dies. You barely deserve to be in the same room as her. You are lucky I don’t break your hands.”

“I know”

Masterlist

AN: I don’t think I capture the amount of heartbreak Atsumu actually was suppose to be in but boy is suppose to seem fucking broken. Doesn’t excuse his action but he insecure scared baby that just wants love.

AN: Sorry this chapter took a little longer. If I don’t have you in my tag list just message me! I am so so nervous about how you all are going to react to this chapter and the next ones. Also there are more then 10 chapters this is just volume 1 🙃.

Please Comment!

@kaleidoscopekai @je-suis-argent-miel @liferuinedby5idiotsand1genius @poppi144 @idontevenknow129 @ssuna @im-the-music-whore @kac-chowsballs

#atsumu smau #atsumu x reader #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu osamu #haikyuu smau #miya atsumu #miya osamu #osamu smau #osamu x reader #aran ojiro #suna smau #suna rinatro #haikyuu suna #suna x reader

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livvibee · 3 years ago

Text

Out of the Gutter

Pairing: Starker, minor Peter/OMC

Rating: Explicit (E)

Notes: Uhhh I apologize in advance for this one y’all. 😂

Length: 5.5k~

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Extreme Dubcon, Underage, Incest, Underage Drinking, Drug Use, Minor Violence,

Read here or on AO3.

“Peter! Peter, this is amazing!”

Ned’s excited voice knocked Peter’s attention out of the textbook he was reading in the library during an impromptu study session with MJ. Peter shrank in his seat, feeling dozens of eyes staring them down. He shot a pleading look at Ned and watched as he slowly exhaled, tension running out of his shoulders, before he slid into the seat across from Peter at the table.

“Guys!” Ned whispered excitedly. “They came!”

“What came?” Peter stared blankly at Ned.

Ned looked around furtively, leaning forward to be closer to Peter and MJ. “The fakes.”

Peter felt a jolt of excitement run through his body, sharing a conspiratorial glance with his best friends as Ned started to draw a plain envelope out of his backpack.

“Stop!” MJ hissed. “After school- Can we meet at yours, Ned?”

“Totally!” He replied, wide smile gleaming.

Peter practically vibrated in excitement through the last period of the day, shooting off a quick text for permission to his father, and sighing in relief when he received the okay just as the dismissal bell rang. It had been a rough couple of months since his Dad caught Peter red handed at a club (how was Peter supposed to know his Dad’s date would end up there?), drunk as a skunk, confiscating his fake ID and grounding him severely in response. Thank God Peter hadn’t been high that night, or he probably would still be grounded, or maybe even shoved into one of those stuffy private schools for misbehaving rich kids.

Ned and MJ met up with Peter by his locker, and they walked to Ned’s house together, rocketing up the stairs to his room with barely a word to Mrs. Leeds. Once safely inside, Ned flipped open the envelope and pulled out the plastic cards, handing one to Peter who examined it closely.

“Ned,” Peter gasped, “this looks incredible! It’s so much better than the last one!”

“Right???” Ned said incredulously. “They look just like a regular ID, I can’t believe my cousin managed to get ahold of these.”

“You know what this means?” Peter asked.

“What?” Ned said, still clutching his ID in hand and staring at it in disbelief.

“It means we’re back!” MJ crowed. “Good luck to anyone who tries to confiscate these babies!”

Peter suppressed a wave of unease as Ned and MJ whooped together in excitement, before dissolving into laughter as Ned’s mother yelled up the stairs for them to quiet down.

Finally it was Saturday night and their plan was in action. Get to the club, become appropriately socially lubricated, dance, maybe even find a hookup, then get back to their beds before parents were awake in the morning. Sneaking out of the Tower would have been impossible (and boy had he learned that lesson the hard way one spring evening Freshman year), so Peter and Ned waited at the Leeds’ for his parents to head to bed. Peter helped Ned out of the window with a small grunt of effort, then swung down himself. All those gymnastics lessons were finally coming in handy.

They met up with MJ at the subway station. “Hey losers, you rolling tonight?” Ned and Peter quickly agreed, receiving the pills from MJ before swallowing them down dry with the ease of long practice. The trio headed downtown, overcome with good cheer and giggles during the course of the trip, dressed in their finest babyslut getups.

The fake IDs Ned had gotten from his cousin had scanned at the door as genuine, gaining them entry to the club and access to the bar, access they’d immediately taken full advantage of. Peter jumped up and down with Ned and MJ as the beat dropped and the bass of the song vibrated through his bones, feeling open and loose, in sync with the crowd and with the universe.

“MJ! MJ!” Peter laughed, yelling her name over the music. “I’m having so much fun!”

Her response was swallowed in the sway of the crowd on the dancefloor, lips unreadable in the flashing strobe lights and fog inside the club. Peter lost himself to the pure joy of dancing with his best friends, heart thumping to the beat, sweat dripping down his face, smearing his eyeliner and leaving tracks through the iridescent highlighter swept across his cheekbones.

“Hey!” Ned grabbed at Peter and MJ’s hands, towing them toward the bar. “This round’s on me!”

Peter could just hear him over the music now that they were further away from the DJ. Ned held his cash in the air, clumsily getting the attention of the bartender and ordering them all lemon drop shots. The trio clinked their glasses together before knocking back the sugar-sweet lemon-tart throat-burning liquid with the faint grimace and loud whoop.

Peter bopped his way back into the crowd of dancers, happily grinding on anyone who came his way, uncharacteristically uncaring about looks or even gender. The overwhelming urge for touch was fully upon him as he exchanged sloppy kisses and careless caresses with any number of partners, letting himself be passed around the dancefloor in a blur, like some glittery party favor.

Several rounds of dancing and shots later, and Peter felt great. Better than great. Fantastic even. So what if everything was a little blurry around the edges? So what if he wasn’t absolutely sure where Ned and MJ had disappeared to? Peter was having the time of his life, everything was right with the world! He was sweet sixteen, flush with liquor and lust, and from the look of the guy eyeing him from across the dancefloor, attractive enough to fuck.

Peter shimmied his way through the bouncing crowd with loose limbed moves, catching the eye of a dark haired man with attractively trimmed facial hair. (Didn’t that remind him of someone? Peter pushed the thought away impatiently.) Peter’s heart was beating out of his chest as they made eye contact, blue eyes catching on brown. Everything slowed down for a moment, the music fading into the background as Peter looked the man over, taking in his muscular arms and trim waist, eyefucking him from head to toe as the lights flashed through the haze.

“Hi!” Peter yelled above the vibrating beat, watching the man’s lips as he returned the greeting. He didn’t waste any time, turning around and leaning back against the man to grind his ass against him on pure animalistic instinct, craving the pressure against his skin. The man’s hands came down to rest on Peter’s hips, pulling him into an energetic rhythm that matched the beat vibrating through Peter’s bones.

Fuck, it felt so good to let go. To let the stress and expectations of being Tony Stark’s son and protégé drift away from his shoulders, disappear under the haze of molly, alcohol, and raw desire clouding his mind. Peter lifted an arm and wrapped it behind the man’s head, pulling his face down to Peter’s exposed neck. Score, the guy took the hint and started sucking livid marks into Peter’s pale skin, fueling the pool of liquid heat collecting in his core. The man’s hands travelled up and down Peter’s body, running over the front of his silky mesh shirt, sending a wave of shivery sensation through his skin. His fingers plucked against Peter’s sensitive nipples, dug hungrily against the dips of his defined abs, groped the sides and bottom curve of his ass.

“Do you know somewhere more quiet we can go?” Peter yelled, spinning around to face the man, who grinned lecherously and nodded, pulling Peter with him through the crowd.

They squeezed their way out an emergency exit in the back of the club, hands frantically rubbing whatever parts of the other could be reached, Peter’s mouth being enthusiastically penetrated by the man’s tongue as they kissed. Peter slammed the man against the wall, drinking in his noise of shocked surprise before dropping to his knees right there in the dirty alley. He could feel the grit of the city underneath his knees, even through his tight black jeans, and relished the grounding sensation to counteract the floating in his head.

The man eagerly unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock, flopping it right in front of Peter’s face. His mouth was watering, senses overwhelmed by fresh sweat and masculine musk as his lips parted to take the man inside. Peter hummed happily, palming himself through his jeans as he gently sucked, bobbing his head back and forth and licking around the tip.

“Fuck, your mouth-” The man gasped out, grabbing at Peter’s sweat soaked curls with shaking hands.

Peter grinned around the man’s cock. All those hate fueled hookups with Flash Thompson had been good for something after all. Peter lost himself in the rhythm and feel of skin against his tongue, sucking harder and groaning at the salty taste of precum, neglected dick throbbing inside his pants. He groped blindly for the man’s leg and pulled it between his thighs to grind against it.

“Oh, that’s it. Fuck you’re a greedy lil thing, that’s right baby, suck that-”

“Hey! Asshole!”

Peter froze around the man’s cock before pulling off with a sloppy pop. Oh shit. Oh no. Oh my God, oh no, oh fuck, oh shit. It couldn’t be. There was no way. Peter screwed his eyes shut as he felt a familiar hand grab at the back of his neck, sending a slow roll of pleasure down his spine, and pulling him up and back from his kneeling position.

The hand disappeared and there was a dull thud before a series of protests started. “Woah man, ow, what the hell?”

Peter was still half crouched, quivering in shame as he listened to the response, which was growled with menace.

“I’m going to give you one chance to get the hell out of this alley before I separate your head from your spine.”

The resulting silence was broken by the sound of rustling fabric, a zipper being closed, and rapid footsteps in the opposite direction.

“Peter Anthony Stark.” That disappointed voice was like a bucket of ice dousing his lust, better at sobering him up than any greasy burger ever could be.

“H- Hi Dad.” Peter stammered, looking up at his father, who was dark eyed and puffed up with rage.

Tony held up his hand, silencing Peter with the familiar gesture. “I can’t believe we’re doing this again Peter. You didn’t learn the last time I had to pull you out of the gutter?”

That peculiar combination of shame and anger rose inside Peter, choking him, contributing to his sputtered denial. “I- I- I didn’t mean- I didn’t mean to-”

“You were doing exactly what you meant to do. Like you always do.” Tony’s voice was tight as he stared down at Peter, hands clenched at his sides. “Kid, I can’t stand by and watch you self-destruct the same way I did.”

Peter shot to his feet, sudden fury winning out over the embarrassment of being caught with a cock halfway down his throat. “I’m just trying to have a little fucking fun! What I’m doing is nothing like what you did! Newsflash, Tony, we’re not the same person, no matter how often you act like we are.”

The echoing crack of the slap across Peter’s cheek seemed to catch them both by surprise. Peter rubbed his cheek in shock, wide eyed and slack jawed, watching Tony’s still raised hand with utter astonishment.

His father was huffing and puffing like he’d just run a marathon, chest heaving, breath rasping in his throat as he spoke. “You think this is cute Pete? You think this is fun? All this acting out? It’s like you’re six again and throwing a tantrum, screaming out for Daddy’s attention. Well “newsflash” kiddo, you’ve got my full attention now.”

Peter was still speechless, his father had never hit him before. He’d never even been spanked as a kid, let alone slapped. “You- you hit me,” he said, rubbing his smarting face.

Tony’s jaw tightened as a grudging laugh slid out from between his teeth. “Talk shit, get hit kid. Unfortunately you’re a little old for me to take over my knee. You’re lucky for that, or you wouldn’t be sitting down for a week after this stunt you pulled tonight. You wanna know how I knew you were here? The social media alerts I have set up on you started going crazy, Peter. Practically the whole city knew you were here, grinding like a slut on some stranger, getting drunk and God knows what else.”

Peter’s vague noise of protest died in his throat as he thought of tomorrow's headlines. He looked at his father desperately. “I didn’t mean-”

“No,” Tony interjected, “I don’t want to hear it. Save your excuses.” Peter gasped as his father grabbed him with an iron grip by the upper arm, and started hauling him out of the alley to where a familiarly discrete black SUV was idling by the sidewalk. “Get in, and don’t think we’re done with this conversation.”

Peter opened the door and blanched to see a hangdog Ned and wide eyed MJ already in the back. He blushed fiercely as MJ’s perceptive gaze passed over the livid handprint on his left cheek. The ride to drop off his friends was silent, the teens not daring to speak to each other as they each reached their destinations, with only dreading looks exchanged. Even that brief contact brought a sideways and threatening look from Tony, daring them to talk at their own risk. Finally the vehicle was empty, but the silence still weighed heavy on Peter’s nerves.

“Dad…” Peter spoke into the quiet, voice cracking on the single word.

“Not now Pete, I’m driving.” Tony’s voice was still rife with irritation, and Peter’s mouth snapped shut in response.

The utter stillness continued as Tony parked, and as they rode up the elevator to the penthouse. Peter fidgeted nervously the whole way, unable to keep still as the tension rose. He was still rolling, running his hands up and down his thighs, unable to keep still as the urge to touch and be touched seized his body.

“What did you take?” Tony’s voice was firm as they walked into the living room, not leaving any room for excuses or prevarication.

“Molly.” Peter muttered to the floor, unable to meet his father’s eyes. He flinched and gasped as his father’s hand lifted his chin, forcing him to make eye contact.

“Want to try that again kid? What did you take?”

Peter quivered under Tony’s laser sharp gaze. “M- molly.”

Tony’s sigh of disappointment cut into Peter like a knife. The ride back across the city had cooled his righteous indignation, leaving only the shame behind. Peter looked back to the floor, pulling away reluctantly from his father’s hand.

“I am so incredibly disappointed in you Peter. I’ve always tried to be open with you about my struggles with substance abuse, and hoped you would learn from my mistakes and not repeat them. You can consider yourself on lockdown, no phone, no friends.”

Peter kept looking down at the floor, the film of tears he’d been battling since the slap prickling in his eyes. His dad was right, Peter had really fucked up tonight, in a spectacularly visible way, and so soon after gaining privileges back. “I’m sorry…” Peter whispered.

“I don’t believe you Pete. I can’t trust anything you say right now.”

Tony’s words stung worse than the slap had. “That’s not fair!” It burst out of Peter’s mouth before he could think twice.

“You think that’s unfair?” Tony scoffed. “Trust me, you’re going to be learning a big lesson on what’s fair and what’s not. Just- Go get ready for bed. I can barely even look at you after what I saw tonight.”

Peter was suddenly furious again, hurt boiling over, too hot to consider the effect of his words. “Is that what Howard told you? After your first sex tape leaked?” He looked up with fire blazing in his eyes to note with satisfaction how his father’s jaw had dropped. “Guess what Dad, I’m not a little kid anymore. So what, I like to suck dick.” Peter jutted his jaw out defiantly. “From what I’ve seen, that apple sure didn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Bed!” Tony practically roared, eyes flashing, pointing toward Peter’s room.

“Fine!” Peter shouted back, stomping down the hallway with the full power of his favorite Docs. He stormed into his room, slamming the door and hearing the answering shout echo down the hallway. Peter was most of the through angrily stripping, standing in his socks, bare chested with just his black briefs on by the time the door flew open. “Dad!” He yelped, “I’m changing!”

“Don’t care, as you so clearly pointed out, nothing I’ve never seen before.” Tony’s voice was clipped with irritation. “Finish getting ready for bed.”

Peter practically ran into the bathroom and slammed that door shut too, locking it behind him. He collapsed onto the cool tile floor, chest heaving with frustrated sobs as the doorknob jiggled.

“Unlock the door Pete. I don’t trust you being alone.”

“Fuck you!” Peter hissed venomously through the door. Dead silence was the answer, instead of the explosion Peter was goading for.

“JARVIS,” Tony enunciated clearly, “unlock Peter’s bathroom door, override code, ‘Daddy knows best.’”

Peter gaped at the door as it audibly unlocked and swung open and his father stalked inside.

“You want to act like a child Peter? I can treat you like a child!” Tony was clearly still furious, eyes flashing down at Peter who was huddled on the bathroom floor by the sink. “Stand up!”

“No!” Peter shouted back, foot kicking down on the floor in defiance.

Tony reached down and hauled Peter up from the floor, hands under his arms like he was nothing more than a little kid. Peter kicked and struggled the whole way as he was deposited to sit on the counter by the sink. “Stay there!”

Peter huddled in on himself miserably, feeling exposed and small, shivering in his briefs and socks as the cool marble sunk in through the fabric. He watched in confusion as his dad pulled Peter’s toothbrush and toothpaste from the medicine cabinet, getting the toothbrush wet under the faucet and squirting toothpaste on the bristles.

“Open.” His father’s voice didn’t leave room for argument, but Peter resisted, giving in to the childish urge to shake his head with his lips pressed tight together.

Tony caught Peter’s chin with one strong hand and pinched at the hinge of his jaw, forcing his mouth open. Peter squawked in alarm as his body followed Tony’s whim instead of his own will, spluttering as his father firmly inserted the toothbrush into Peter’s mouth.

“Dad! Stop!” Peter’s whining protests were garbled by the toothbrush as it slipped and slid roughly over his teeth and gums, spreading an intensely minty taste.

“Can’t believe I found you in some alley on your knees, gonna clean out that filthy fucking mouth of yours.” Tony was growling aggravated nonsense as he scrubbed harshly inside Peter’s mouth. “Down in the gutter sucking off some Tony Stark knockoff while the real one is at home worried, you think your life is unfair?! You think I like watching you disobey and disrespect and self-destruct?”

Fat tears were swelling up in Peter’s eyes, the ghostly ache of the earlier slap making itself known as his father’s strong grip pressed into his cheek, keeping his mouth vulnerable and open. As Tony continued brushing across Peter’s teeth those tears started running down his face in streams as he hiccupped and choked around the toothbrush invading his mouth. The foam that had built up was dripping out of the corners of his lips and down his chin.

Peter tried to fire back around the intrusion, he wasn’t disobedient or disrespectful or self destructive, he wasn’t! He just wanted to have a little fun. All Peter succeeded in doing was sobbing miserably and disgustingly leaking out toothpaste onto Tony’s hand. He'd never felt so achingly vulnerable, not when Flash first pushed him against the lockers and forced him to his knees, not the first time his father had caught him trying to sneak out of the tower, not even when the paparazzi caught up with him after a particularly bad day at school, sobbing his sorrows out over his mother’s grave.

Tony let go of Peter’s jaw and maneuvered him sideways over the sink by his shoulder. “Spit.”

The touch against his bare skin rocketed tingles down Peter’s spine and to his- Oh no. Peter sputtered the foam out of his mouth into the basin, chest heaving with shame. Why was- How could he be? The more he thought about it, tried to unravel his feelings, the harder his dick throbbed between his legs, tenting the dark fabric of his briefs.

Drowning in confusion, Peter felt utterly unmoored as his father let go of him, turned on the taps, and cupped his hands underneath to catch the water.

“Rinse.” Tony said flatly, holding his hands up to Peter’s lips.

Peter shook his head frantically, needing something, needing just a minute to think- To calm down-

“Rinse!” Tony snapped.

The roiling combination of shame, panic, and desire bubbling in Peter’s stomach erupted. He shoved his father’s hands away, spilling water all down his chest and stomach. “I’m not a child,” Peter shouted as he tried to swipe the cold water off his skin, “and I don’t know how to prove it to you!”

Dead silence was his only answer.

Peter looked up in confusion from where he’d been glaring at the floor, waiting for the reprimand for losing his temper. Aw fuck. His dad was staring straight down at his hard-on, which was pointing proudly toward the ceiling like it had nothing to be ashamed of, like everything about popping a boner in this situation wasn’t completely wrong.

“I can see that,” Tony finally replied in a coolly interested voice, anger still present but iced over by something- Something else Peter couldn’t identify.

Peter started to curl defensively into a ball on the counter, but was stopped by Tony’s hands coming down to rest on the tops of his thighs, fingers splaying out across his sensitive skin. He gasped as the touch set off another rolling wave of pleasure to his core that left goosebumps in its wake, sent shivers up his chest, hardening his nipples to little brown peaks.

“You wanna prove you’re not a little kid Petey?”

Peter had never heard that tone in his father’s voice before. “Dad?” He asked in a small voice, head spinning, confused beyond belief, heartbeat racing.

Tony leaned in and nuzzled at Peter’s neck, rubbing his goatee against Peter’s pulse as his hands traveled slowly up Peter’s thighs. Peter gasped out a shocked moan as the prickly sensation sent heat blazing straight toward his throbbing dick.

“What?” Peter panted. “I don’t-”

“Shhh,” Tony soothed against Peter’s skin. “Isn’t this what you want? To prove to me you’re old enough?”

Peter tilted his head back against the mirror and parted his suddenly dry mouth. “I- I guess-”

Tony dragged his lips up Peter’s neck and to the shell of his ear. “Good boy,” he said crisply before fitting his mouth against Peter’s and squeezing down on his thighs, digging his nails into Peter’s pale skin.

Peter’s reflexive protest that he wasn’t a boy was swallowed up by his father’s lips and probing tongue, and turned into a moan deep in his throat as fireworks sparked off under his skin. Though he’d thought the kiss from the stranger earlier that night was good, it was nothing compared to this all consuming experience. Tony’s nails slowly scratched up Peter’s thighs toward his aching cock, making him whimper helplessly into his father’s mouth.

Breaking the kiss and laughing cruelly at Peter’s confused whine, Tony traveled down Peter’s body with his lips and teeth, nipping sharply and sucking at his pebbled nipples, drinking in the sound of his son’s shocked gasps and moans.

“Wait, no- You can’t- Dad!” Peter cried out as Tony reached his goal, and mouthed lightly at Peter’s hardness through the cotton of his briefs, sucking at the dot of precum that had dampened the fabric by the tip of his son’s dick.

“Has anyone ever done this for you before?” Tony asked, looking up at Peter and ignoring his protests.

Peter shook his head wildly back and forth, looking down at his father with wide eyes. “I- I’m usually the one who-”

Tony grinned wickedly up at Peter, then tugged impatiently at the tight elastic waist of his son’s briefs and pulled it down past Peter’s hips and ass, freeing his erection to bob fully in the air. Laving at his son’s leaking tip with a practiced tongue, Tony sucked Peter’s dick into the wet heat of his mouth.

“Ah- Hah-” Peter was beyond words as his father bobbed his head up and down. He curled around Tony as he was completely overwhelmed by the sensations, by the silken tightness surrounding his cock, by the agile working of his dad’s tongue around the tip on every upstroke.

Peter lost track of time as waves of pleasure lapped in his core, radiating out to all his limbs, tingling at the base of his skull. He could feel his balls drawing up and tightening, and couldn’t control the rocking of his hips, the perverse urge to fuck up into his father’s mouth.

Pulling off Peter with a wet slurp, Tony tugged him forward off the counter until his feet met the floor, and flipped him around roughly by the hips, tugging his briefs down all the way to the floor. He stopped to give the perfect roundness of Peter’s cheeks a series of wet nips as he stood, before tucking his head over his son’s shoulder, and meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Peter’s irises were almost invisible, swallowed by the black of his enlarged pupils, surrounded by smeared eyeliner and accented by sooty tear tracks down his cheeks. His eyes grew impossibly wide as he heard the metal of his father’s zipper being undone, and felt Tony’s hardness nestling between his bare cheeks, hot like a branding iron against his skin. It felt huge. Tony flexed his hips forward, making Peter hiss as the head of his father’s cock nudged against his virgin hole.

“Dad,” Peter began, voice breaking off as Tony ground against him again, making him throb with empty want and abject terror.

“Yeah Petey?” Tony grunted as he rooted through the medicine cabinet for something slick, hips rutting forward over and over, rubbing the tip of his dick across Peter’s asshole with increasingly slippery thrusts.

“I- I don’t feel so good.” Peter’s head was back to spinning and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, even as the slide of skin on skin sent electric sparks shooting though him.

“Shhh baby,” Tony cooed, opening the jar of coconut oil he’d found. “It’s about to feel really good.”

Pulling back, Tony slicked up his cock with the oil, spreading it with a series of wet schlicks that echoed dimly in Peter’s ears. Peter gasped weakly as his father’s now slickened cock resumed rubbing against his hole, pressing inside ever so slightly with every pass.

Dad!” Peter cried out.

“What?” Tony bit out.

“I’m scared,” Peter confessed in a small voice.

“You getting scared like a little kid Petey? Tony mockingly caressed Peter’s hair. “Afraid of what you don’t know? What’s next, you gonna be afraid of the dark again, need me to tuck you in, need a nightlight?”

“‘M not a little kid,” Peter shot back in a watery voice, holding back a confused sob. Everything felt so good, felt so bad, he just wanted so badly to be touched, just maybe not- Maybe not like this.

“Just relax, you’ll be fine.” Tony pushed forward again, gripping Peter’s hips and using the leverage to keep constant pressure against the ring of muscle that clung tightly to the tip of his cock. “Fuck baby,” Tony grunted, slowly forcing himself inside of his son. “Been waiting for you to grow up a little, out sucking on lookalikes when you could have been here sucking on me instead.”

Peter cried out as Tony’s dick slowly slid inside his clinging hole, bringing with it a stinging ache that radiated out to his lower back and thighs. “Stop! Dad, it hurts-”

Tony reached around and tugged at Peter’s cock, which was still hard enough to pound nails. “Can’t hurt that much.” He said dismissively before returning his hands to Peter’s hips, holding him in a bruising grip. “Now shush- Man up,” Tony grunted as his hardness forced inside fully, “and stop your whining.”

Tears were welling up in Peter’s eyes again as the pain built, feeling like his insides were rearranged inch by searing inch. He started crying again in earnest, fresh tracks tracing down his cheeks as Tony pulled back glacially slowly, then slid home again, pulling on Peter’s hips for leverage as Peter clung to the bathroom counter for support, fingers scrabbling against the cool marble surface.

“You wanted to play grown up games, you’re going to win grown up prizes,” Tony said breathlessly as his strokes increased in speed, balls slapping rhythmically against Peter as he experimented with the angle of his thrusts.

“Oh!” Peter warbled as his father’s cock brushed against his prostate. “Fuck- Fuck!”

Tony grinned sharkishly in the mirror. “There we go,” he crowed, and added power to his strokes, mercilessly grinding his shaft against Peter’s stinging rim with every push, hammering against his sweet spot.

“Dad-” Peter sobbed, pain and pleasure mixing up in his system like a hurricane, dick leaking where it hung between his thighs, drooling a long shining string of precum toward the floor.

“That’s right Petey, you take this cock,” Tony growled lowly.

As the minutes passed, the stinging was beginning to subside, leaving only lapping waves of warmth in its wake. Peter could see his body glistening with sweat in the mirror, curls plastered down to his forehead as his sobs turned into hitching moans. He was beginning to lean back into the thrusts, pushing his hips and arching his back to meet his father’s powerful pumps. Peter reached between his legs and grasped his aching dick, hissing in pleasure as he spread slickness from the tip down to his balls and back up again, jerking himself with fervor.

Leaning his head down to pillow on his braced arm, Peter moaned quietly, “Dad?”

“What?” Tony panted between flexes of his hips.

“Can you- I need-” Peter’s body quivered as he tried to speak.

“Adults use their words,” Tony said harshly as he reached up and pulled Peter’s head back by his hair, forcing him to make eye contact in the mirror. “What do you want?”

“Please, fuck me harder!” Peter blurted out, flushed cheeks darkening with shame as he watched his father’s face.

Tony laughed darkly and let go of Peter’s hair, letting his head fall back down to his arm and resuming his clawing grasp on his son's hips. “Who knew I raised such a fucking slut?”

Peter gasped in shock and stroked himself harder as Tony’s thrusts sped up to a blistering pace, moaning like a cheap whore as his father’s cock pistoned in and out of his hole, slamming against his sweet spot on every stroke. His balls were tight with need, the heat in his core raging like a wildfire. Peter just needed- He didn’t know what he needed, but he needed it soon, he needed it like, now; he needed it like, yesterday.

“You like that baby boy?” Tony reached in between their bodies and traced Peter’s reddened rim with his fingers before slowly pressing in a single digit, stretching Peter’s hole even further.

Peter cried out fiercely as his ass began to burn again, white heat overtaking his vision.

“You like being all grown up?” Tony asked breathlessly. “You like being Daddy’s big boy slut?”

His father’s words hit Peter like a bolt of lightning, making his legs shake and back arch uncontrollably. Heat erupted from him as his cock jerked in his grasp and shot out long strings of cum onto the bathmat. His ass clenched, hard, around his father, muscles rippling in rhythmic pulses to the timing of his tsunami of pleasure.

"Fuck, Pete-" Tony cursed, hips stuttering behind, into, out of Peter, finally coming to a lurching stop as a liquid heat spread inside Peter's ass.

The bathroom was silent for long moments, except for their slowly calming breaths. Peter watched his father in the mirror, questioningly tracing the lines of his face as he pulled his cock out of Peter’s sloppy hole.

"Dad?" Peter asked in a small voice.

Tony sounded utterly spent as he replied, rubbing absently at Peter's hips where his fingers had left livid marks. "What Petey?"

"Am I still grounded?"

#starker #livvibee

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changkyunswifey · 4 years ago

Text

bittersweet l lee jooheon

wc: ~1.5k (i got a bit carried away -)

request: hello, I love your writings, they are like a cosy blanket and help me to ease my anxious mind; can I request something fluff with Jooheon, like when he helps you with your messy thoughts and anxiety (or something like that)? (I’m a sucker for this man.) Thank you and know that there are people who love your stories <3 take care of yourself <3

genre: lots lots of angst at first but covered up by lots lots of fluff at the end

pairing: jooheon x gn!reader

contains: nothing jooheon always having your back no matter what (and a bit of alcohol -)

a/n: so first of all thank you so so much for this request!! i made it angsty in the beginning but i hope it’s okay with you :( thank you for liking my work, i’m happy it helps you with your anxious feelings, i really hope you take care of yourself too <3

Since Jooheon last spent the night at your place two weeks ago, you didn't meet up even though you two texted you couldn't help but think something was wrong.

So that's why you were out so late in the busy streets of Seoul.

It felt like the street was screaming all around you, some people were going in and out of bars, some of them were leaving work from a long day while the other just wanted to find some party to crash.

Looking around you could really pass for a tourist who lost themselves looking for their hotel, but you were none of that, you just wanted to walk until your legs would feel to weak to keep going. You needed to go somewhere, anywhere.

You continued walking through the noise, looking around you, observing people, smelling the scent of food, alcohol and smoke mixed together invading your senses.

You stopped at a convenient store to buy a small bottle of whatever alcohol they had and your favorite snack and started walking again.

Your expression was blank, your gaze livid, your bottom lip trembled at the contact of the cold air, your hand squeezing the bottle in your left hand almost as if it was going to disappear if you were not holding it tight enough, your mind was filled of thoughts, anger, sadness, regrets.

You were walking along the side of a bridge, the cloudly sky above your head subtly warning you of the upcoming rain, your pace was slow, from the outside it almost seemed like walking was painful for you, but was it really ?

Every time you took a new step, your feet were feeling heavier but you kept going, not caring about the pain you were feeling.

Your bottle hasn't been opened yet, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, turning toward the view you were getting from the city on the bridge.

You opened your eyes, looking at the lights coming from the city that was now far from you, you could still slightly hear the noise escaping from it mixing with the sound of the water underneath the bridge and some cars passing by behind you.

You took your phone out from your back pocket to plugged your earphones and listen to some music, finally opening your bottle to take a sip.

Wind was brushing against your face as strands of hair were coming in your view, your fingers and cheeks turned red from the cold air, you pushed your hair aside of your face and drank a bit more, hands laying on the safety barrier of the bridge and freezing from the contact with the cold metal.

Small drops of rain were falling on your face, blending with the tears that were now escaping your eyes.

It started to pour really hard but you didn't care.

You just stayed there, looking far away, sipping some of your drink every now and then with your music at full blast.

You didn't know why you came here in the first place, you couldn't even remember why you left your apartment earlier.

But there you were, crying under the cold rain, blood filled with alcohol, mind full of problems, eyes glued to the horizon, hands shaking on the barrer, your legs feeling like jelly as your knees were giving up, not able to support your numb body anymore.

You cried silently, holding back a scream you wish you could let out. You had so much to let go, so many insecurities, so many fears. You were so scared and lonely. So deeply lonely.

After a few minutes, the rain started to calm down as you dried your tears with your sleeves, you were exhausted and the only thing you wanted to do was sleeping.

You didn't feel like walking back home so you grabbed your phone to call a taxi but when you looked at you screen you saw that you received a message 15 minutes ago and one or two missing calls, it was him.

‘Hi, honey

I don’t know where you are and I hope you’re safe right now, I came at your place right as the rain started to pour because I wanted us to have a cosy movie night. Please call me when you get this.

I love you’

You locked your phone as your tears were leaving a bitter taste on your lips again.

----

About 20 minutes after you’ve read his text, you finally got home. As you opened the door a really smiley Jooheon came up to your, who’s smile quickly faded away as he took in your appearance.

Your hair was wet, your clothes drenched, your eyes red and puffy and you just looked unwell. Worry started to bubble in his chest. He dropped everything he had in mind and rushed to hug you close to him, not caring about getting wet from your clothes.

“I got you honey, I’m right here okay? You’re not alone in this, not anymore. I’m with you and I’m not going anywhere.” he said softly, gently caressing your hair before pulling away the slightest bit to place a kiss to your forehead, “Let’s get you changed again? How about a warm shower and a hot chocolate? Does it sound good?”, after a small nod from you, Jooheon helped you out of your clothes, put them in your dryer, got you some pajamas ready in the bathroom and made you some hot chocolate while you showered.

When you got out of the bathroom in the warm comfy clothes Jooheon got ready for you - including one of his hoodie which smell exactly like him, a smell that you affectionate so much because it felt so much more like home -, you walked to your living room where you were welcomed by the scent of warm hot chocolate, the sight of comfortable blankets laying on the couch and the wonderful comforting smile of your dear boyfriend.

He gestured you to come over on the couch, which you did, taking your cup of hot cocoa in your hands before blowing some air on it.

“Y/N..” he started carefully to make you look up at him with a questioning look. He carried on “What happened? You know you can talk to me, right? Please baby talk to me..” he had a pleading look plastered on his face, you had no idea how helpless he felt seeing you like this and not knowing what was bothering, it felt like hell to him, like his worst nightmare was becoming true.

“It’s just.. It’s just life being hard on me I guess?” he gave you a look that said “it’s okay, keep going” as he placed his hand on your knee and rubbed his thumb softly on the material of your sweats, he made you feel warm inside, he made you feel so safe without even saying anything and just by being here he was working wonders, with his unspoken encouragements you spilled everything that was putting any sort of weight on your shoulders - and you heart - and he listened carefully to every single word, waiting for you to finish.

When you were done he took a minute to think, organizing his thoughts, thinking about the right things to say and after what felt like an eternity he finally broke the silence :

“Listen, I know sometimes life can be really hard on us but it’s just an obstacle you have to overcome, it’s not a phase because it’s not going to go away on its own with time, you’re going to have to work to get through it and it is for sure going to be painful but you’re not alone in all of this and you will end up stronger than you were, ready to fight any other obstacles coming on your way to happiness. I know someday it feels helpless, there are some mornings you wish you could stay in bed all day and avoid all the potential problems you could possibly encounter but unfortunately that is not how it works. Unfortunately we have to get up everyday and fight the day. And it’s okay to lose a fight every now and then but it doesn’t mean you’ve lost your battle. It’s okay to fail, it’s okay to feel unsure, it’s okay to feel sad and anxious but you’re allowed to let go of that pressure you’re feeling, I want to help you carry some of the weight you have to carry everyday, I want to be there for you anytime you need me but for it to happen you have to talk to me like you did tonight, okay baby?”

His words made you tear up, you were so lucky to have him in your life, you felt so grateful for him as his words find their way directly to your heart, a few tears rolling down your now hot cheeks, you smiled at him.

“I love you so much Lee Jooheon, I love you so damn much” you said.

“And I love you even more Y/LN Y/N” he said as he placed a gentle kiss full of all his love for you on your lips.

The soft of his lips contrasting with the salty taste of your tears, creating the most perfect bittersweet taste you could imagine.

#monsta x #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #monsta x fluff #monsta x angst #monsta x jooheon #jooheon imagines #jooheon scenarios #jooheon x reader

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werejusttouchingeachother · 4 years ago

Text

Whipped

(d.ksoo)

Req: fluff + smut with Kyungsoo by @johnniverse Pairing: actor!Kyungsoo x baker!reader Words: 10,609k Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, smut Warning: cursing, smut, mature Summary: Your close friendship with Korea’s favourite actor is suddenly strained when he begins acting strange after returning home. Three nights of disappointment and several drinks later, the memory of a rhubarb Eton mess lingers in the air as you find yourself finally seeing your best friend in a different light. Tags: actor!Soo, slightly chef!Soo, baker!reader, cursing, flirting, sexual tension and fluffy smut A/N: To the req, I hope you like it and it isnt too cringy lol, I always struggle with fluff. Also P.S, I’m never doing the fake texting image thing ever again, I had to use both my phone and laptop to edit/upload the pics in order and it was a pain in the ass especially for a fic this long (and on a side-note, props to all the text-message fic authors, this sHIT IS HARD JFC SERIOUSLY Y’ALL ARE AMAZING AND DEDICATED AF, I APPRECIATE THE EFFORT)

The smell of butter and dough that surrounded you usually helped calm your nerves but tonight could perhaps be the first time that was an exception. After all, it had been months since you last saw your best friend, Kyungsoo.

There weren’t many people around at this late hour of the night and you were thankful for the silence, for the peaceful atmosphere that was usually a rare occurrence at the bakery’s kitchen. Only when your nerves had crept into your worried thoughts as the silence prolonged had you finally scrolling to the playlist of soft instrumentals that you usually had playing at the bakery during work hours, letting the music fill the empty kitchen while you worked.

You hum softly to Billie Eilish and Khalid’s ‘lovely' as you place the tiny specks of edible gold foil atop the chocolate tart. Kyungsoo didn’t love the gold foil—he called it “too bougie”—but you knew that he didn’t hate it either. Besides, you couldn’t help the dramatic flair that you always brought to your desserts; it was what you were popular for, after all.

You’d met Kyungsoo as a customer at your artisan café almost three years ago when he’d dropped by late in the night to ask for a full-sized cake. You’d heard your co-worker Yixing apologetically inform him that there weren’t any such cakes readily available just a few minutes short to closing hours and that customers usually pre-ordered them in advance but you’d stepped out of the back-kitchen then to ask the desperate-sounding customer whether a red velvet cheesecake was fine with him.

You can still recall how you’d stumbled over your own words as your eyes finally fell on the late-night customer—Do Kyungsoo, the upcoming handsome actor who had swept over the nation with his popularity after his latest movie. Your first thought had immediately been, ‘Holy hell, he looks more beautiful than he does on the screen’.

It was only much later that you’d revealed to him that the original recipient of the cake was a little girl turning eight the next day. Kyungsoo had been stunned at the revelation and even to the present day, he still wondered why you hadn’t turned him away to find another bakery instead of going to the hassle of giving away a pre-baked cake that resulted in you pulling an all-nighter to bake another for the actual customer.

But how could you have refused? With his warm earnest brown eyes that reminded you of the pools of dark chocolate batter that you’d been whisking back in the kitchen, his cheeks that shone like freshly glazed pastries with the sheepish heart-shaped smile that put even the sun to shame, you couldn’t help but relent and give him the red velvet cheesecake that you’d been preparing for a client to pick up the next morning.

Although Kyungsoo had left in a hurry after accepting the box that night, he had visited the bakery around brunch hour the next day to thank you personally—and “properly”. Both of you had introduced yourselves and you’d been surprised at how down-to-earth and friendly he’d been, taken aback by his genuine interest in your bakery and all the desserts that you’d had. After conversing, there grew a mutual admiration—you’d never imagined that such a famous actor was also an incredible cook with an intense passion for food while having such an avid interest and genuine fascination towards your baking.

It had been the initial blossoming of a beautiful delectable friendship. You’d never thought you’d grow as close to him as you did but there was an instant connection after that first conversation at the kitchen of your bakery, a way in which both your personalities perfectly complemented each other and fit together just right. Of course, your mutual interest for food only fuelled the friendship further.

That was three years ago. Back then, it had started as a friendship but slowly bloomed to an unhealthy crush on your part. And who could blame you? Kyungsoo was unbelievably perfect—with his charming smile, his friendly and kind nature, his heart of gold and just by being an absolute sweetheart, you struggled to keep your emotions at bay as you got closer to him. He set the standard entirely too high and there was a small part of you that even blamed him for never being able to find a boyfriend. Every blind date and man that your friends introduced you to all paled in comparison to Kyungsoo, multiple meals and walks spent with them feeling extremely dreary when you spent the entire time drawing analyses of them in your mind based off of Kyungsoo as the yardstick.

However, it was a secret that you were certain you’d carry to your grave. He already had hordes of fangirls and half the country pining for him, he didn’t need to worry about you shooting heart-eyes at him too.

Besides, you cherished your relationship with Kyungsoo entirely far too much to risk losing all of it with a silly confession. You were close with his mother who called you more often than she even called him sometimes to chat with you idly about recipes, you knew how he hated parsley a lot more than he let on, how he’d admitted that your lemon meringue pies were his favourite dessert in the entire world and how he hated early morning shoots the most and could never get used to them no matter how many times he did it.

It wasn’t one-sided—he knew you like the back of his hand too. Kyungsoo knew about your coffee addiction that he always called unhealthy, how much you loved crafting recipes in your kitchen late into the night until you got it perfect, how you absolutely hated thunderstorms and could even tell whenever you were upset even from a mere text, prompting him to call you as soon as he could to talk about it.

It was too much to risk such a great friendship for a stupid crush. He meant too much to you which is exactly why you’d settled for never ever confessing to him.

You hum softly as you finally pulled your face away from the table, a satisfied smile coming upon your face as the finished tart lay atop the marble counter, gold flecks glinting in the yellow lights of the kitchen.

You picked up your phone then, frowning as you noticed the lack of texts. Kyungsoo had finally completed the premiere and tour for his latest movie, arriving back home early today morning for a well-deserved break, albeit short. You knew that his friends would most probably throw him a party—as per their tradition—but he’d texted you earlier that he would definitely drop by the bakery around midnight, at the latest.

Which was your tradition. He’d visit his mother, have a meal with his parents and then come straight to you, loudly yelling that you’d better have his favourite pies waiting for him, “or else”.

You stare at your phone, contemplating if you should send a picture of the tart and fully utilise his weakness for sweet treats against him but the screen suddenly lights up with an incoming message.

You sigh as you place your phone back on the counter and glance dejectedly down at the tarts. Pursuing your lips, you wondered if there was something wrong and if Kyungsoo was okay—it was the first time that he’d cancelled on your tradition of meeting you on the day that he got back itself.

He’s at home, probably well-fed, pampered and completely spoiled rotten by his mother so you decided to not dwell further on it. You place the tarts into airtight containers and placed them in the fridge then, yawning softly as you decided to call it a day and head home.

You were positive that you could see the colour red as you glanced at the clock hanging over the paintings on your wall, feeling more livid than you’d ever been.

It had been three days. Three days since Kyungsoo had arrived and your stupid “tradition” was in shreds—the both of you hadn’t met at all.

The day after the night he spent at his parents’ place, you waited for him all morning at the bakery before texting him. He’d called you immediately and apologised profusely, saying that he had to meet his manager at the company and that something urgent had come up. You’d let it go again but he hadn’t contacted you at all after that and you’d waited all day until finally calling him right before bed.

The conversation had been short, his words muted and seeming tired so you’d hung up without pressing too much.

But then you’d went over directly to his parents’ place yesterday. You’d been stunned to find that he wasn’t there, his mother cheerfully mentioning that he had left early in the morning “because of some work” and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’d lost your appetite. After stuffing yourself full with an entire lunch that his mother had not let you leave without, you’d called him. He’d apologised again, “another work thing” and finally ended the call after mutually agreeing that he’d come over to your place early the next morning, eat breakfast with him and heading back to the bakery later in the afternoon.

It was the next morning, the pancakes you’d made were cold and soggy now, the clock read 10:19AM and Kyungsoo was nowhere in sight.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” you hissed murderously, grabbing your phone and pulling up your messages to text him.

You shoved your phone away in fury, grabbing the plate of pancakes and hurriedly storing them back in the oven before grabbing the keys to your car and heading out of your apartment. You had half-a-mind to drive over to the company and ask his manager which goddamn hotel he was staying at before taking a deep breath, muttering a string of curses lowly to clear your head and pulling out of the parking space.

The entire day was a mess. Chanyeol, your commis baker, was surprised to see you head in earlier than you said you would, all of the kitchen crew and bakers flinching as you glared and yelled at them to get their shit together. You busied yourself in the kitchen, feeling Johnny’s wary eyes on you as you punched the dough like a possessed madwoman. Perhaps you weren't as good at masking your emotions as you thought you were, the entire staff catching onto the fact that their usually-cheerful patisserie chef was perhaps not seeing dough for fresh bread but instead visualising the mochi cheeks of the man whom Korea had lovingly dubbed as the actor with the most perfect heart-shaped smile.

Perfect, my ass, you thought derisively.

The day passed in phases. By 4PM, you’d baked way more puff pastries than necessary, waving off Chanyeol who meekly suggested to stop making so many since there was already a piling excess which would most probably be wasted if not sold by tonight. You told them all to just take some home, that there were your treat and involuntarily, your hands started to slow down as evening dawned, your upper arms beginning to ache slightly because you didn’t pace yourself in your rage.

You sighed as you headed to the back of the kitchen, walking through the smaller door that was alongside the pantry—a smaller space that was solely for you, a place that you lovingly called your own and was the birth of many of your sweet creations.

The anger shifted to the second phase in the evening, one that infuriated you more because at least you were productive with your fury. Now, you just slumped at the marble countertop while staring at the small fridge in the corner that still held the gold-leafed chocolate tart from two nights ago.

You sighed as you buried your face in your flour-stained palms. This has never happened and it was stressing you out in levels that you had never expected it to—because you’d never had a fight with Kyungsoo. Petty arguments, sure, but nothing that couldn’t be solved with his spaghetti or your macaroons.

Then again, he’d never been like this. Never had he avoided you, never had he cancelled multiple times on you repeatedly, never had he broke the sacred tradition of meeting you as soon as he was back. It had been too many times now to be a mere coincidence, he was definitely avoiding you. You could tell that he was lying and your anger from today morning had subsided to just an intense worry that felt like cramps in your lower abdomen, sighs falling from your lips as you wondered what was wrong.

You thought about calling his mother for a brief moment but you could already guess that she was just as oblivious as you, maybe even more. She hadn’t seemed fazed when you’d went over yesterday, hadn’t noticed the distress on your face as you realised that you’d missed him yet again.

The rest of the day seemed to drag on forever. Your limbs were sore and you knew your bed would be nothing short of welcoming right now but you didn’t want to go back home in a state like this where your thoughts would be louder than ever.

Around 9PM, you decided to call it a day and closed up early. You could see the relief in everyone’s faces, especially Chanyeol who looked like he wanted nothing more than to go home and pass out. Once the entire crew had left the bakery with a box of all your rage-fuelled treats—Chanyeol had been right, there had been way too many puff pastries, cake pops and enough cookies for the entire neighbourhood—you sat alone in your workspace with nothing but silence echoing around you.

Sighing softly, you stood up and connected your phone to the small Bluetooth speakers placed at the corner of the room, putting on your Coldplay playlist. You washed your hands in the sink before setting out to make the lemon meringue pie.

There was a reason why Kyungsoo loved it the most amongst every other dessert you made—it was your go-to dessert whenever you were upset. Although the recipe wasn’t challenging nor was it particularly difficult to make, it does require a lot of patience and dedication to get a flawless pie every time. Kyungsoo loved watching you create it; you’d lost count of the number of times he’d walked in to see you furiously whipping the cream filling for the pie. The amount of concentration it took at each step usually helped calm your nerves, distracting your noisy thoughts enough to focus on the dessert at hand.

Initially, you’d thought he called it his favourite only because he’d seen first-hand how much effort it took to bake it but then Kyungsoo had explained that he could taste the effort, that the tarty tanginess of the lemon filling which would first wash over his tongue slowly morphs into the subtle sweet aftertaste of the creamy meringue which was addicting enough to make you crave for more.

There was a small part of you that didn’t believe him when he’d said that and an even smaller part that had been too flattered to believe it, unable to even form a coherent response to it but baking the pie now made your chest ache as it occurred to you that it’d probably join the tarts in the fridge from two nights ago.

The lemon meringue pies tasted best when eaten immediately and he knew it—which was exactly why he often sat around to watch you make it.

You decided not to dwell on it. Once you were done with the pie, you’d call him one last time to ask if he could meet you wherever possible tonight itself. You’d use the pies as an extra leverage, perhaps as a ruse to just lure him out. Just so you could yell at him for being an idiot right at his face instead of at the phone.

You’d just lined the pastry base into the pan and chilled it for an hour before baking it in the oven while you whisked the lemon filling. The humming of the oven had involuntarily made your shoulders loosen up as you lost yourself in making the lemon filling and you were softly singing along to Yellow as it echoed around the small kitchen space.

The song suddenly stopped and your hands froze reflexively as you turned around to see your phone lighting up with an incoming call.

‘satansoo😈💕’

You dropped the whisk immediately and grabbed the dishcloth, wiping your hands hastily as you strode around the counter. You threw the cloth aside, hands still feeling slightly sticky as you grabbed your phone and disconnected the Bluetooth connection.

Your voice was slightly breathless as you finally answered, “Soo? Hello? Kyungsoo?”

There was dull music faintly thumping in the background but at a distance, as if muted. You frowned as the pause on the other side of the call lasted for almost three seconds before finally hearing an unfamiliar male voice.

“Hello? Y/N? Is this Y/N?”

“Yes, yes, it’s me,” you said loudly, furrowing your eyebrows as you felt a sense of dread creep into you. “Who is this? Where’s—?”

“You were the first on his emergency contact list,” the man interrupted, making your heart drop to your feet.

“What’s going on?” You asked hurriedly in a panic, your eyes widening as you felt your stomach twist. “Where’s Kyungsoo? Is he okay?”

“Ma’am, my name is Woo Shik and I’m the bartender at Club Exodus. Your friend is really really drunk,” the man replied, sounding slightly exasperated. “He came in around 7PM and got a room alone although we told him that he can’t do that singly but he insisted and said he’d even pay more for it. And now-now he’s just really drunk. He’s been yelling your name for the past half hour and crying something about rhu.. rhu something? Itaewon mess?”

“Rhubarb Eton mess,” you deadpanned, sighing. “I’m… I’ll be there as soon as I can. Could you just text me the address of the club, to this number?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll send the location right now.”

“Okay, thank you, I’ll be there.”

You hang up quickly and your limbs feel like they’re frozen, uncoordinated from your brain as you will yourself to move. You feel disoriented, a thousand thoughts flying through your head as you quickly pull off your messy apron and grab your phone. You don’t bother fixing yourself much, knowing that you probably smelled like fresh dough and lemons as you hurriedly shut off the oven. You pause as you notice the halfway baked pie shell, wondering if you should call Chanyeol and ask him if he could clean up in here as a favour.

The large grandfather clock in the main lounge area of the bakery suddenly sounded, echoing softly in the back-kitchen and you glanced down at your phone.

10PM.

He’s been drinking by himself for three hours.

“Fuck it,” you mutter, snatching the oven mitts and not even bothering to put it on as you use it just to shield your hand whilst grabbing the hot pie tray.

Your legs seem to move faster than your brain then, your body moving almost robotically as you threw the half-whisked lemon filling in its large glass bowl, the pastry shell and the cream for the meringue into the small fridge. It only held a few failed recipes and a couple of disfigured-looking pastries that you usually snacked on, along with Soo’s dark chocolate gold tart from two nights ago that you hadn’t had the heart to throw away, having expected him to walk into the bakery at some godforsaken hour and claim the dessert.

You felt a slight ache now as you stashed everything into the fridge, knowing how many ingredients that you’d just wasted because there was no way even you could resurrect or save this disaster after leaving this kitchen now.

Knowing that there was no time to regret it, you quickly cleaned up the counters and the rest of the workspace, grabbing your car keys and the lock to the bakery. You closed up the store and hurriedly got into the car, pulling up the location that the bartender had just sent you as you started driving to the club.

Your worry finally had a chance to fully materialise through the drive, your anxiety not allowing you to even play the radio as you raced to Club Exodus. It briefly occurred to you that there probably was a huge problem, something big that was worrying Kyungsoo if he was willing to go to the extent of booking a hotel room away from his parents and even avoiding you.

If there was anyone besides his mother who could read and see through him as well as she did, it was you.

God, Kyungsoo, what is going on?

You pulled up to the front of the club in almost half an hour, quickly jumping out and hurriedly gesturing to the car at the valet service guy standing at the entrance before heading in.

You approached the woman at the reception, your voice low as you asked, “I’m looking for Woo Shik? He’s with a friend of mine…”

“Oh yes, ma’am, hold on.” You weren’t even looking around the place, your senses almost numbed with tension as you followed the uniformed man to whom she gestured, one step behind him as he lead you away from what sounded like the main hall with its booming music that you could feel reverberating through the walls.

He showed you to a door and you could already hear Kyungsoo’s deep laughter even before entering. You pushed open the door and your eyes immediately fell on your best friend, his cheeks appearing redder than you’d ever seen them as he laid back on the black leather couches. A man in the dark burgundy uniform of the club who you assumed to be Woo Shik was trying to clear the table alongside the couch in a desperate attempt to save the bottles and glasses of alcohol from falling onto the floor.

“Kyungsoo,” you said flatly and Woo Shik looked up from the couch towards you, wide eyes filled with exasperation.

“Y/N?” He asked hopefully and you nodded, sighing.

“Did he drink more after we called?” You asked, stepping into the room fully and scrunching your nose in disgust at the way the place was reeking with alcohol.

“No, but he’d been chugging for a while and they’re all settling in now, I think,” Woo Shik explained tiredly, stepping away to let you walk around the table towards your drunk best friend.

You forgot what to even say as you looked at Kyungsoo who was giggling giddily on the couch, his eyes closed as his hands flailed mindlessly. He looked almost smaller in the way that he was curled up on the leather seats and you could see that he’d grown thinner since the last time you’d seen him. His cheeks were very flushed and that’s when you realised that this was the first time you’d seen him so shit-faced drunk. Of the both of you, he was the one with the higher tolerance and he’d seen you blackout drunk more times than you’d seen him in the past three years and it occurred to you that he must have definitely had way too much than usual tonight to be like this.

“Soo,” you heard yourself mumble, your hands reaching for his that were still blindly reaching for something in the air. His eyes snap open when he feels your hands clasp around his, dark shining gaze shifting towards you. You watch as his eyes widen and even before you can react, his grip tightens fiercely around your hand as he yanks you to him with a high-pitched squeal of your name.

You curse as you almost collapse on top of him on the couch, feeling his body beneath yours that was radiating so much warmth that you would have mistaken him to have a fever if it weren’t for all the alcohol lying around.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiii,” Kyungsoo slurred, smiling happily up at you as he wrapped his arms snugly around your middle while staring down at you. You felt your heart slightly melt at his elated expression, your anger and worry momentarily dissipating as you gazed back into his shining eyes.

“Hi,” you replied softly, feeling almost shy from the way he was looking at you as you realised that Woo Shik was still in the room and probably waiting for you to collect the mess that you had in your arms who had caused him enough trouble.

“Okay, can you sit up?” You ask slowly like you’re talking to a child as you pull away enough to help him sit upright. He’s still gripping one of your hands tightly and you let him use your other arm as a support to pull him upwards slowly so as not to make him dizzy.

You look up at Woo Shik then, your tone apologetic as you ask, “How much is all of this?”

“He already paid, ma’am,” Woo Shik replied, shaking his head at you.

“Okay, I’ll just take him away then, I’m so sorry for the trouble,” You quickly say as you grab Kyungsoo’s arm and throw it around your neck. You put your own arm around his waist, holding him to your side while trying not to inhale the alcohol-stench reeking off of him. Woo Shik offers help but you shake your head at him as you help Kyungsoo out of the club. He suggests the back entrance then, mentioning that it’d be safer because of his actor status and quickly hurries to tell the valet to bring your car.

You manage, with much difficulty, to finally seat Kyungsoo inside your car and strap him in safely. Once he is settled, you sincerely thank Woo Shik for all his help and make a mental note to send him some treats tomorrow and finally get back into your car. After driving away from the club, you slow down at a secluded alley and turn to Kyungsoo whose head is turned to face the window.

You gently shake his shoulder, wondering if he’s asleep as you softly call out, “Soo? Kyungsoo?”

His eyes blink open slowly and he turns to you, appearing almost woozy. You watch then as his eyes widen and the same elated expression from earlier washes over his face, his arms reaching out to wrap tightly around your frame as he again exclaims, “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii.”

“Yeah, yeah, hi, hi,” you mutter, rolling your eyes in exasperation as you try to pull away from his death-grip. Any other time, you’d have been taking videos of him like this to use as precious blackmail later.

“Soo,” you call out his name again as you try to get his attention on you. Once he is blinking at you while still grinning like an idiot, you enunciate slowly, “Your hotel. Where is it? Which hotel are you staying at?”

Kyungsoo blinks incomprehensibly and you see his grin widen, mouth opening excitedly to squeal your name again and you manage to grab his arms, stopping him from hugging you yet again.

“Kyungsoo!” You call out loudly, watching him flinch and you instantly lower your tone as you slump back in your seat while staring at him helplessly. There was no way you could take him back to his parents’ place when he was like this and you knew that his mother didn’t know the hotel that he was staying at either since she hadn’t mentioned it the last time.

Sighing, you turn with resignation towards the steering wheel and start up the car again, deciding to just take him home.

It wasn’t like he’d never been to your place before—he’d slept over on your couch multiple times but this would be the first time that he’d be doing it when absolutely wasted.

Kyungsoo hums softly beneath his breath as you drive and you’re quiet, listening to him as you chew on your lip nervously while wondering if you should talk to him. You knew he was drunk as hell and by the state that he was in, you guessed that his chances of remembering any of this tomorrow morning would probably be extremely low.

You decided to risk it.

“Soo,” you started tentatively and you were surprised when the humming stopped, knowing his attention was on you. You clear your throat before asking slowly, “Why didn’t you meet me?”

He frowns and you can hear the pout in his voice as he slurs, “Because you’re an idiot.”

You turn to look at him in amazement, eyes wide at the stupid response. “What?”

You turn back to the road as he continues, “It’s true. My mother says so too.”

“Your-your mother?” You sputtered, feeling more confused by the second. What the hell is he talking about? “She said not to meet me because I’m an idiot?”

“Nooooooooo,” Kyungsoo whined and you noticed him shift in his seat slightly from your peripheral as he explained, “I decided not to meet you. Mom told me that I’m an idiot. I think you’re the idiot but Mom says it’s me.”

You should just pull over and leave him on the roadside.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm as you reminded yourself to treat him like a child. He is a child and you need information so you tried again, slowly asking, “Why are we idiots?”

There’s a pause then and Kyungsoo mumbles something in reply, incoherent again.

You slow to a stop at the red light as you turn to face him fully now, squinting at him. “What? Why are we idiots, Kyungsoo?”

“Because I like you,” Kyungsoo sighs loudly and your eyes widen then, heart jumping to your throat.

Everything freezes around you and you stare at him, certain that you’d heard wrong as he leans back against the headrest, sighing dramatically again as he softly explains, “I’ve liked you for a long time but you’re an idiot to never see it. Mom told me I’m the idiot for never telling you but you’re the idiot for never seeing the signs.”

“S-signs?” You repeated, your voice cracking in your throat. Your heart is pounding in your ears as you ask quietly, “What signs?”

Kyungsoo sighs again, longer this time and you’re almost tempted to grab him by his shoulders and shake him angrily to get him to speak faster. You felt like you were going to be sick and this idiot was putting on the show of his life, acting dramatically like his rent was due the next morning.

“Sooooooo many signs, Y/N,” he slurs your name, dragging his words tiredly as he turns to you. He faces you and pouts childishly as he asks, “You think I run to all my friends’ arms whenever I come home on break? You think I cook with parsley which I hate with all my heart for anyone else? It’s only for you, because of how much you love it on your spaghetti. Most of my friends don’t even know I cook. I never even had a thing for sweets until you and I told you that but you’re an idiot. You thought its cause I love everything you make that much but that’s only a part of it. You idiot.”

You stare at him speechlessly and jump when you hear a loud honk behind you. Dazed, you look ahead and realise the traffic lights had changed to green, slowly prompting you to shift the gear and start driving again as the cars continued honking noisily behind.

You swallowed loudly, hearing an internal screaming in your head as you tried to gather your thoughts and process the words you’d just heard. You’re about to ask more, you don’t even know what, when you hear him murmuring softly again. You catch the word ‘rhubarb’ and start to ask why he kept ranting about your Rhubarb Eton mess custard and that’s when it suddenly hits you.

The last time that he’d come home for break, the time that he’d spent with you before leaving for the movie that he’d just finished shooting, you’d made him the Rhubarb Eton mess custard. The call to travel to Japan had been abrupt, causing him to have to leave on short notice and he’d spent the night before his flight with you at the bakery. It was after working hours, close to midnight and you’d been experimenting and crafting desserts with rhubarbs since they were in-season and had whipped up the Rhubarb Eton mess custard quickly just for him.

He’d watched you in his usual seat opposite the counter as you made it and after having his first spoon, he’d scooped a spoonful of the creamy custard and fed it to you. After taking the bite, however, the blood-red juice of the rhubarb had stained your lips with a bit of the whipped cream at the edge of your mouth.

Kyungsoo had reached out almost reflexively, his thumb swiping against your lip and you’d gone still, both of your gazes locking as you’d felt the atmosphere shift. You thought it had only been in your head, that it had only been you wondering what the expression on his face would be if you leaned forward and sucked the cream from his thumb, if his eyes would dilate watching your lips wrap around his digit the way that you were sure your eyes had when his hand had reached towards your mouth.

You could still recall how terse the silence had been then, both of you in a silent stare-off as you waited for the other to make a move and Kyungsoo had finally broken the moment by retrieving his hand, flashing you an innocent grin as he licked the cream from his thumb and quietly finished the rest of the dessert.

Your heart had been hammering in your chest that whole night and you’d never even known.

“Oh god,” you breathed out involuntarily as understanding finally dawned over you. Kyungsoo had been humming beside you again but at your words, he went quiet and you continued, “The rhubarb custard. You’re talking about—”

Kyungsoo groaned loudly then, confirming your suspicions as he huffed in annoyance.

“I wanted to kiss you so bad that night,” he almost whined and you felt your cheeks reddening at his confession as he continues ranting, “You were just standing there with your lips looking all glossy and red from the syrup and that stupid whipped cream on your upper lip! I was already upset cause I had to leave you so soon and you were just standing there like an idiot and I just wanted to eat you instead of that damn custard.”

Holy fucking hell. “Kyung—”

“I’ve been whipped for you forever, Y/N,” Kyungsoo admitted, shutting you up abruptly. “I’m whipped for you like your whipped cream. Like your Eton mess. Like your perfect custard. Like your pies. Like—”

“Okay, okay, I get it, I get it,” you quickly interrupt him, desperately wanting him to shut up because you were certain that you’d cause an accident with the way your heart was pounding right now, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as your thoughts were disorienting. You were driving mindlessly, taking longer routes because you didn’t how much longer this conversation would go, if it would last all the way to your apartment or if he’d sober up once he got home. You felt like you were dreaming, like this conversation was unreal and wondered briefly if you’d gotten drunk with him too back at the club and this was just some cruel dream.

“Why…” you croak and you clear your throat before trying again. “Why didn’t you meet me?”

“Because you’re an idiot.”

“I swear to god, I’m going to—” You loudly inhale through your mouth, knuckles almost turning white around the steering wheel as you grit out, “Did. You. Avoid. Me. Because you like me?”

“Min Ah…”

He trailed off and you frowned in confusion, pausing as you faintly recognised the name. “‘Min Ah’? Jung Min Ah? Isn’t that your co-star for the movie you just did?”

Kyungsoo nods and he mumbles sleepily, “She said she likes me during the wrap-up party but I could only think of you. I didn’t want to see you until I got my shit together and sorted out my feelings because I didn’t want to accidentally confess to you.” He pauses then and you’re surprised when he lets out a loud humourless laugh. “Maybe I am the idiot.”

You hesitate before asking, “Why don’t you want to confess to me?”

Kyungsoo is quiet for a while after that and you glance at him, wondering if he’d fallen asleep but he appears to be deep in thought. His words are almost unheard as he finally mumbles, “Because I don’t want to lose you.”

You fall silent at his heavy words, the intensity of the underlying meaning getting to you as you feel something break inside of you.

You don’t say anything for the rest of the ride then and Kyungsoo dozes off, falling asleep cutely with his mouth hanging open as he lays his head back against the seat while you drown in your thoughts.

Regardless of your feelings and how much you liked him too, the words that Kyungsoo had just uttered terrified you. Friendships were stable, they endured even the ugliest of fights and lasted longer while relationships were fragile; one slip and you could lose Kyungsoo. He didn’t confess to you because he didn’t know about your feelings but now that you knew that he felt the same, you didn’t know if you were brave enough to take the risk.

It could be the end to something beautiful.

But it could also be the beginning to something more beautiful, a small voice in your head reminded you.

Or it could be the beginning to something even more beautiful that would soon reach its untimely but inevitable end and leave you with only heartache and the absence of a best friend that you’d have to burden forever.

You sighed softly as you finally parked your car in front of your apartment. You glanced at Kyungsoo and realised he was sleeping soundly, looking so warm and comfortable that it made you hesitate in awakening him. You got out of the car and walked to his side, throwing his arm around your shoulder while softly calling his name. He woke up enough to step out of the car and you helped him up to your apartment, panting by the time you finally reached your door.

You lead him straight to your bedroom, resigning to spend the night on your couch since you knew he could definitely use the entire bed in the state that he was in. You help him out of the thickly-lined trench coat that he was wearing, holding your breath to not inhale the stench of the alcohol as you decided to just throw them all with the laundry tomorrow morning.

You remove his shoes and pull off his socks but your hands hesitate mid-air before reaching for his pants. It’s not like you hadn’t seen his legs before or anything—god knows he’d helped undress you from uncomfortable clothes on multiple nights when you’d gotten too drunk—but your stomach was twisting now as if he was a whole new person who you were stripping.

God, stop overthinking it.

You force yourself to help him out of his pants, purposefully not letting your eyes go astray as you decided to leave him in the thin black sweater that he was wearing and his boxers. You grabbed your blankets and tucked it around him, smiling slightly when you notice Kyungsoo immediately snuggle to the warm sheets like a child, making himself comfortable as he closed his eyes.

You went to the kitchen then, grabbing a tall glass of water and some aspirin pills before heading back to your room. You’d just placed them on the small bedside table and was turning to leave when you felt a fierce grip on your wrist.

Your breath stopped in your throat as you looked down to see Kyungsoo holding onto you, half-lidded eyes gazing up at you as he whispered one word.

“Stay.”

You step towards the bed then, getting on your knees on the floor so that your face would be at the same level as his. You raised the hand that he wasn’t holding to stroke his cheek gently as you murmured, “Sleep, Soo.”

He was quiet, his eyes still dark and intense as they remained locked with yours. Your heart thudded as you briefly wondered if he’d come to his senses and if he remembered everything that he’d just revealed to you but then he opens his mouth again.

“Do you know something?” His voice is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret and you shake your head quietly.

“You always smell like the bakery,” he whispers, smiling softly in a way that made your heart ache. “You smell like fresh bread and sweet vanilla and strong coffee. You smell like happiness. Like home.”

A soft sigh of disbelief escapes your parted lips at his words, his eyes having closed off while he spoke as he slowly fell into deep slumber.

You were so goddamn blind.

“We’re both idiots,” you snort quietly as you gently loosen his grip around your wrist and walk out of the room.

But you decided to be the bigger idiot.

You heard Kyungsoo shuffling inside your room around noon the next day, making you glance at your bedroom door from where you sat on the couch.

The night had seemed to last forever. After putting Kyungsoo to bed, you’d spent the entire night tossing and turning on the couch restlessly. You briefly considered waking up and baking something or even heading to the bakery so that you could angrily complete that lemon meringue pie you’d left half-baked but your body was extremely exhausted and refused to even move. All the activities of the strenuous day yesterday had completely worn you out yet your brain refused to cooperate, unwilling to grant you the bliss of sleep as your thoughts grew louder with each passing hour of the night. Kyungsoo’s words, his drunken confession all echoed like a haunting melody within your head, forcing you to reminisce and reassess every moment that you’d spent together, viewing it in a light that you’d assumed to only be exclusive to you but had perhaps been the same light that he’d been seeing you in as well.

You didn’t know what to do anymore. You felt more conflicted than you did when he had stood you up and you began to wonder if it had even been a good idea to even go to the club last night.

Should you have even brought him back to your place?

You could hear the shower in your room then and you knew he was probably washing off the events from last night, the stench of all the drinks that he’d downed. You sighed as you grabbed his chopsticks for the Chinese take-out that you’d just ordered—both of your go-to hangover food—since you knew he’d probably be hungry. You hadn’t bothered with breakfast because you knew that he wouldn’t wake up by then so you’d just settled on brunch.

The door opens and your heart jumps as you look up, eyes locking with Kyungsoo. He’d found one of his tees that he’d given you—“you stole it,” he insisted—and sweatpants that he’d left here from a previous sleepover. He looked better than he did last night and you cleared your throat, ignoring the nervous flutter in your chest as you asked blankly, “How’s your head?”

Kyungsoo nodded, stepping forward into the room. “It’s a lot better now. I woke up in the night with a headache and had the aspirin before sleeping again.” He hesitated before murmuring, “Thanks.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why’d you drink so much then, idiot?” You snort as you start to stand up, grabbing your phone.

You gesture to the food on the table. “I ordered Chinese. Have lunch and take another aspirin before you head back… home. Or to the hotel. Or wherever.”

Kyungsoo frowned at you as you searched for your bag. “Wait, what? You’re leaving?”

“I have a bakery to run, Kyungsoo,” you snort, finding your bag and grabbing your car keys as you head for the door while muttering, “I can’t keep coming in late because of you—”

“Y/N, I remember last night.”

You stop, hand freezing on the doorknob as your entire body goes still. Your back is facing him but you can feel his gaze on your back, feel the weight of it.

Kyungsoo’s usual deadpan tone sounds more wry than you’d ever heard it then as he says, “I remember last night so you can stop faking it and talk to me.”

Shit, shit, shit.

You take a breath, forcing yourself to slowly turn around and face him. You relent, throwing the keys and bag aside, crossing your arms in an effort to not reveal the way that your hands are slightly trembling as you nonchalantly reply, “I’m not faking anything, Kyungsoo, I am very mad at you.”

He rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to answer but you cut him off by asking, “How much?”

His gaze shifts to you and you clarify, “How much do you remember?”

“Enough,” Kyungsoo replies, carefully watching you now. When you don’t falter, he concedes, “Enough to know that I confessed to you.”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath as you uncross your arms. “Look, it doesn’t have to be—”

“Is this your answer?”

You stop then, looking up at him with wide eyes. You frown at the shift in tone, noticing the despair that he was trying to hide in his expression as you ask, “What do you mean?”

“The fact that you’re pretending that nothing happened,” he answered, stepping forward as he spoke. “The fact that you’re ignoring everything I told you last night. Does it mean that this is never happening? That you’ve never liked me the way I’ve liked you?”

Your eyes are wide, back pressed to the door as he stood in front of you. The words that you wished to respond—even though you had no idea what they even were—were stuck in your throat as you gazed up at him, your breath growing shorter as you felt him raise his arm beside you to place it on the door as if to cage you in.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name, his close proximity and husky voice making your head feel like it was going to spin. Your lips parted of their own accord, head slightly arching back to look up at him as his plush lips hovered over your own. His face was close enough that his warm breath was mingling with yours and you could smell the minty toothpaste—your minty toothpaste.

Your heart was hammering so loudly in your chest that you could hear it, your eyes greedily drinking in the close proximity as they ran over his face with enough scrutiny to commit every detail to memory—the way his long lashes looked against his pale cheek, the tiny almost invisible mole right over his upper lip and the way his eyes looked like they were shining from within as they gazed at you.

Your breath audibly hitched in your throat as he leaned his head slightly to the side, angling his lips to yours until there was only a fraction of space between your mouths. You held your breath as he murmured, the words brushing against your parted lips, “Stop me, Y/N.”

And then Kyungsoo was kissing you.

Your eyes seemed to refuse to close, your body frozen like a statue and your arms were immobile at your sides as you felt his plush lips press against yours. It was light, hesitant and tentative like he was waiting for you to shove him off any second but you could feel the blood pounding through your head and coursing within every vein at that moment.

Fuck it.

You raised your hands tentatively, closing your eyes and almost collapsed back into the door as you started kissing him back. You felt Kyungsoo move his hand from the door then to gingerly place it on your hip and his other hand took your raised one that was hovering between your bodies to place it on his shoulder.

You made a soft sound of approval as you finally melted into the kiss, closing your eyes and digging your fingers into his shoulder to kiss him harder. Kyungsoo grabbed you by your hip then, holding you flush against him as he started kissing you more passionately while you dropped cupped his face with both your hands. You traced your tongue over his lower lip slowly and he was instantly parting his lips, slipping his own tongue into your mouth. Your guess was right earlier, you could taste the mint and as corny as it was, it had never tasted sweeter.

The kiss grew tender as he realised how breathless you seemed to be getting, both of your pulling away slightly while smiling against each other’s lips. Your eyes fluttered open to see Kyungsoo was smiling so hard that his eyes had become little crescents as they looked at you.

“You didn’t stop me,” Kyungsoo breathed out, sounding incredulous enough that you let out a soft laugh.

“You’re an idiot,” you repeated his words from last night, thumb stroking his cheek affectionately before correcting, “Well, we both are. I wouldn’t have stopped you ever, Soo.”

He pauses, gaze shifting from both your eyes as he asks quietly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“For the same reasons you didn’t,” you replied with a sheepish smile. You suddenly grin with the memory of last night as you say, “If only you told me earlier, I could have said that I’m whipped for you too.”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrowed at that, nose scrunching cutely in confusion as he repeats, “Too?”

“You said last night that you’re whipped for me like whipped cream. That you’re whipped like my Eton mess, like my pies, like my custard—”

“Oh my god, stop!” Kyungsoo buried his face in the crook of your neck in embarrassment, making you burst out laughing aloud as you fully wrapped your arms around his back and held him to you. His voice was muffled as he mumbled, “Most of those things aren’t even whipped.”

“I know!” You laughed again and pulled him away enough from you to look at his face. His cheeks were faintly rosy and it reminded you of last night again.

His voice is grumpy as he asks, “What else did I say last night?”

“A lot of things,” you teased, grinning as you kissed the corner of his mouth. “Enough to torture you for at least a decade.” You gasp exaggeratedly, raising your voice dramatically as you wonder aloud, “Who would have ever thought that Korea’s favourite actor Do Kyungsoo who has an internal breakdown every time he has to do aegyo and act cute was actually so cheesy and corny? That he would look me in the eyes, with his chest out while proudly saying that he is whipped for me like my whipped cream, that he would rather eat me than my custard—”

Kyungsoo grabbed your face then and shutting you up by kissing you again. You grinned against his mouth as he wrapped his arms fully around your waist, lifting you up against the door so that your legs curl around his lean hips.

“Aren’t you hungry?” You murmured into the kiss.

“Yeah, for you,” he countered, kissing your jawline. His husky voice right in your ear made the small hairs on the back of your neck rise as he groaned, “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do this?”

“Mm, show me,” you hummed, taking his face into your hands again as you kissed him harder. You thought Kyungsoo would lead you to the couch but he carries you to your bedroom instead, laying you down on the edge so that your legs are hanging off the edge of the bed. You blink up at him, pouting slightly as you clutch the front of your shirt—his shirt. Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow then, smirking slightly as he asks, “In a hurry, are we?”

“You think you’re the only one who’s been waiting forever?” You retort, using your elbows to push yourself back further up the mattress. You grab his hand and yank him harshly towards you, making him stumble slightly as he almost fell over your body while you started lifting his shirt off of him.

Kyungsoo raises his arms, helping you pull off the thin shirt and you immediately grab his shoulders, pushing him onto the bed beneath you. He blinks up at you in surprise as you throw your leg over his waist to straddle him, his gaze questioning as he looks at the blouse that you still had on.

“I’m going to be so late for work,” you muttered, pulling the blouse off your neck and throwing it across the room as Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at you.

“Chanyeol can hold the fort down for one day, Y/N,” he snorts as he sits upright against the headboard to grab your hips and seat you on his lap properly. You feel the growing bulge beneath his sweatpants brush against your clothed core and your lips part open of their own accord, making him smirk almost dangerously at you as he murmurs, “Has anyone told you that you’re a workaholic, babygirl?”

The word is so foreign from his lips, his expression so foreign yet familiar as he gripped your hips tightly to adjust you right over the tent in his pants. He leans forward and kisses you with an almost vehement fervour, trailing his hungry mouth over your cheeks, jawline and down the curve of your neck. You sigh softly, eyes closing and head arching back as you feel his plush mouth suck on the sensitive soft spot on your throat, his tongue licking incessantly.

Kyungsoo’s hands move almost unnoticeably, curving around your back to unclasp your bra as he marks up your neck. There’s a fire coursing through your body, making you feel as if you’d been plugged into a circuit—every place on your body that he was touching; his lips, his fingers, his firm thighs spread beneath your own, his warm breath were all sending crackles and tingles of electricity through your veins.

You could feel the outline of his hardness against your thin shorts now, your wet heat pressed right up against him and his fingers expertly pull the bra off your body. His cool fingers are cupping your breasts then, thumbs stroking your nipples experimentally as he teasingly thrusts his hips up into you.

A loud moan leaves your lips unintentionally at the sparks of arousal ignited by his touch and your eyes snap open as you hear yourself, feeling Kyungsoo still slightly beneath you at the very porn-star-like noise that you’d just made.

He pulls away from your neck to look up at your wide eyes and you’re already opening your mouth to apologise, feeling the embarrassment swallowing you but he grabs the side of your neck then, kissing you fiercely.

“You sound so fucking beautiful,” he groaned huskily, closing his eyes as he leaned his forehead against yours, his voice a breathy whisper as he said, “To think that I could have been hearing those moans all this time.”

Your heart swells with an emotion that you can’t quite describe, an overwhelming need to feel as much of him taking over your senses as you crash your lips to his heatedly. Kyungsoo responds immediately, kissing you back just as hard as his fingers continue playing with your breasts and tweaking the nipples while you moan just for him.

Your own hand that had been on his chest lowers down his torso and slips underneath the elastic band of his sweatpants. Your fingers immediately wrap around his length, eliciting a groan at the back of his throat as you smile into the kiss while stroking him up and down.

Lips latching onto the spot beneath his ear, you kiss and suck at the skin gently while pressing him back against the headboard. Teasingly, you explore his length leisurely with your hand and feel the way that it is already slick with pre-cum, using your thumb to spread the fluid around the slit.

You gasp against his neck when his hands tighten harshly around your breasts, fingers squeezing your nipple roughly enough that you felt it all the way in your throbbing pussy. Quickening the pace of your wrist, you continue circling the soft bulbous head of his dick with your thumb while he gropes your breasts. You pull away then to look at him, watching the way his chest heaves with the movement of your hand and his eyes flutter dazedly at you.

His gaze is unfocused and you lean forward then, kissing him as you start stroking his length with repeated up-and-down motions. Kyungsoo grabs your wrist then, stopping you and he pulls away from your mouth enough to say, “You’re going to make me cum like this.”

Kyungsoo’s hands find your hips then, tugging at the black shorts that you had on and you let him slip his hands beneath the waistband, pulling both your shorts and panties down your bare thighs. You raise your ass off his lap and yank the material from around your ankles hurriedly before straddling him again.

You grab his erection then, holding your breath and watch Kyungsoo’s face, noticing the awe on his face as you rub his head over your slit that was glistening with arousal.

“Oh fuck,” he curses lowly as you guide his dick inside you, the head parting open your dripping slit and your eyes were already fluttering at the immense pleasure you felt with just his tip inside you. You didn’t even realise the way you’d been whimpering until Kyungsoo shifts his gaze higher to watch your face, staring at you as you arched your head back while slowly pushing yourself down onto his length.

Your free hand is on his shoulder, his own wrapped around your wrist as you whimpered his name breathily when you feel his thick length stretching your tight walls open in the most pleasurable way. Kyungsoo’s arms wrap around your waist then as you begin moving up and down on his lap, riding his dick at an already speedy pace while you felt your lower abdomen tighten with arousal.

His plush lips latched onto your breast then and you moaned loudly, grabbing the back of his head and holding it to your chest as he sucked your nipple into his warm mouth. The wet warmth of his tongue and lips, along with the way his dick felt inside you as the tip brushed against your clit with every movement you made all had you soon trembling on his lap as you tried to reach both your highs.

Growing impatient, Kyungsoo grabs your hips then and pulls you off of his length, making you gasp at the sudden feeling of emptiness, your walls desperately clenching around nothing. He shifts you around so that you’re lying back on the mattress, hands quickly removing the sweatpants that he still had on before crawling back atop you and spreading your legs wide.

His eyes are dark and heavy as they watch your face clearer then, memorising the way your lids flutter when he pushes his dick into your throbbing wetness again. You mewl softly as he fills you up again, already addicted to the way he feels inside you as you wrap your arms around his back.

You don’t get a moment longer to relish in the feeling as Kyungsoo immediately starts moving his hips at a quick and snappy pace against you, thrusting into you roughly enough that you can hear the echoes of skin slapping against skin. The wet squelching noises of your core become louder with every thrust, your walls tightening with the looming orgasm as he fucks you and you don’t realise how loud you are until he lowers his face to your chest.

Walls clenching around him tightly as if to suck him inside you, he groans at how utterly tight you feel as he thrusts faster. Your pussy convulses as his teeth sinks into your sore breast, Kyungsoo realising how sensitive you are over there by the way your body instantly reacts to him as you feel yourself finally fall off the edge.

Your nails are digging into his back and you groan as Kyungsoo’s hips stutter against yours, the rapid way that your pussy clenches and unclenches around him as you cum setting off his own orgasm. You gasp as you feel his warm heat flood into your slickness, filling you up as he continues sloppily thrusting to draw out both your orgasms.

You’re whining his name into his flushed neck as you slowly come down from your high, hand lowering to the small of his back as he collapses on top of you. He buries his face in your shoulder, breathing hard as you wrap your other hand around the back of his head while trying to catch your own breath. Feeling him soften inside you, he begins to pull away slightly but you wrap your leg around him and push him to his side so that he is still inside you with your body still pressed up against him.

You’d always thought Kyungsoo looked beautiful but you don’t think you’d ever seen him as radiant as he was right now, basking in a post-orgasm glow as he smiles at you. His gaze is filled with so much warmth and affection, the same expression that he’d had yesterday at the club when he’d first seen you and you feel shy all over again.

“Hi,” you mutter embarrassedly and Kyungsoo laughs softly, nudging your nose with his own.

“Hi,” he teases back, grinning.

He wraps his arm around your waist then, pulling you to his chest and you snuggle in that familiar warmth, smiling when you feel him bury his nose in your hair and inhale, remembering his drunken words from earlier.

‘You smell like happiness. Like home’.

You tightened your arms around Kyungsoo then, finally being able to realise the emotions that you always felt around him, that you always felt with him and that you felt now when you held him. The way that your heart had always swelled with every touch and gaze of his, that indescribable happiness that took over your entire body every time that he came back from a shoot and you had your arms around him again.

Best friend or boyfriend, Kyungsoo was your happiness.

He was your home.

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followyoursecretsmutblog · 5 years ago

Text

tease.

Imagine:

You aren’t one to lose your cool, but this was the last straw. August promised to be home at 8, 8:30 at the latest. It is now 11:47, and you are livid. Not a call about being late, not even a text. Nothing from the man who said you were his everything.

Typical men. Knows just what to say, and leaves you waiting.

With a huff, you start working on burning out the candles and getting containers for the food. No sense in wasting your efforts.

After the first plate is packaged and set in the fridge, you reach for the second, hearing the front door open.

“Babe, I’m home!” August calls out. “It was a hell-of-a-day. I need you, now.”

You don’t answer, just continuing to put things away.

“Babe, did you hear me?” He asks as he walks into the kitchen. “ Oh, you made dinner?“ The confusion in his voice thick.

“It’s fine. Totally. Not like I spent all day cooking a nice meal for us. I didn’t buy new lingerie for tonight for you anyway. I also didn’t drop a pretty penny for your favorite drink.” The anger you feel causing you to shake. “Not like I sat here for nearly 4 hours after you said you would be here, waiting for you to come home, like an idiot!”

“I didn’t think-”

“That’s the thing August! You didn’t think! You never think about me; do you even remember what today is? Why I made sure you would be home on time?” You ask, voice raising.

I need to calm down. Getting worked up will help nothing. It will only get him mad.

“I’m sorry. Something happened at the office, and I wasn’t able to get away. I lost track of time.” He explains as you continue packing.

Shoving the last of the food in the fridge, you shut the door and walk past him, gathering your coat and purse.

“I’m staying at my place tonight. Happy Anniversary, August.”

You sit in your apartment, a glass of wine in one hand and your phone in the other, watching it ring for the fifth time.

August

“If he couldn’t think about me, why am I thinking about him?” You ask your empty glass. “You’re right, we need more wine.” You stand up, placing your phone on the couch as you walk into the kitchen.

You grab the bottle when there is a knock on the door. “Baby? Open the door please.”

“I’m not even tipsy enough for this to be a good idea.” You call back, placing the bottle on your lips and tipping it back, chugging a heathy amount.

“I know you are mad, but you ignoring me and not opening your door is starting to piss me off. And we don’t want that do we?” His voice drops into a warning, causing your panties to dampen.

“3...” Your eyes widen as you choke on the wine. “2...” Setting the bottle down, you rush to the door. “1 1/2...” You stand there, hand on the lock, waiting. “I know you are there Princess, I can hear you breathing.”

“I’m mad at you.” You say weakly, fingers playing with the lock.

“I know, but let me in so we can talk about it. After I punish you.” His voice is like velvet, so soft and smooth. “You don’t get to walk out on me and think you won’t be.”

“If I open this door, I want the control.” Your voice comes out stronger then you thought, startling you and him. You hear him make a noise on the other side of the door. “Yeah, I’m the one that should be in control, I worked my ass off for you and you didn’t even have the decency to let me know you were going to be late.”

Silence. That is all that can be heard from the other side of the door.

Is he still there? Did he walk away? Did I push him too far? Is he going to leave me?

“Fine.”

“Wh-what?”

“Yes. If you open the door, I will give you control for the night.” You unlock the door, slowly opening it. August stands there, arms on either side of the door. “But just know, after you have your fun, I will have mine.”

“So, I’m in charge?”

“For now.”

“For how long?”

“Until I come.”

A smile grows on your face, like a child in a candy shop.

“My room, naked, and on my bed when I come in.” You say, watching as his eyebrow twitches and his jaw clenches.

“Yes ma’am.” He says as he walks past you. A giggle escapes you, watching him go.

You wait a minute, listening to him undress. After a few moments, you go to your purse, pulling a box from it.

As you walk to your door, you hear the rustle of fabric, the thuds of boots dropping and the sound of his belt. You stand in the doorway, watching this beautiful man undress because you told him too.

Watching as the low light makes him look like a God. He turns slightly, running his fingers through his hair. Your eyes move lower, licking up every inch of him.

“And here I thought I was going to have to work to get you hard.” You say, your eyes not leaving the object in question as you walk toward him.

“Heh, you may be in charge for right now. But the idea of your sweet pussy wrapped around me makes me like this.” He says, wrapping a hand around himself, giving a few tugs.

“Stop.” His hand freezes, his eyes blaze. “Lay down on the bed.” He moves back, eyes watching you.

He gets settled, his large body making your bed seem small.

“Rules. First, no touching yourself or me.” You say as you climb in between his legs. “Second, you will take what I give you.” A smirk on your lips, “And, third, I want to hear you beg.”

“I don’t beg.”

“You will learn.” You lean down, placing a kiss on his stomach, obviously avoiding his very red cock.

His abdomen flexes under your lips, his hips lifting off the bed slightly. You lean over him, your chest and stomach dragging against his cock.

“Now baby, I understand that this is hard for you. Literally. And I want you to know I appreciate you letting me do this.” August just lets out a grunt, watching you with dangerous eyes. “But, I’m going to have a lot of fun.”

You place another kiss on his lips, your hands sliding up and down his torso, digging your nails into him.

You leave a trail of kisses from his mouth to the base of his cock.

“Look at your cock, so big and red, just waiting to be sucked.” You say, licking a thick stripe on the underside of his cock, feeling him throb against your tongue, feeling that vein against you, making your pussy wet.

August curses, flexing his hips to get more friction. Once he feels his tip is at your lips, he tries to push in, but you pull away, nipping him right under the head. “You did this to yourself, you don’t think of me all day, so now you will think of me all night.” You lick up his pre-come. “And tomorrow.” You wrap your had around his shaft, stroking him slowly, adding pressure every few strokes, watching his eyes, roll to the back of his head slightly.

“I want you to beg for me to let you come.” You whisper against his thigh, sucking and biting the sensitive skin. “I bet you look so pretty when you do. Begging to get off. Having to ask for something instead of taking it.”

“Fuck.” He groans out. “When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to sit for a month.” He growls. “That pretty little mouth of yours better get to work, Princess.”

“Promise?” You look at him through you lashes, false innocence in your voice. His blue eyes darken, his jaw set as you wrap your lips around his head, sucking ever so gently, your hand still working him.

August thrusts his head back, mumbling about needing something. Your mouth lets go of him with a pop, “What was that?” You ask, removing you hand from his cock to cup around you ear. “I couldn’t hear you.”

Hands in his hair, eyes wild, he asks, “Why did you stop?” The muscles in his neck tighten.

“I got you something, I think now would be a good time to show you.” You pull the box from where you set it on the bed, slowly opening it.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you pull it out, showing August your purchase.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“I seem to recall you saying I was in charge. So, yes, it stays.”

“You are not putting a cock ring on me. So help me, God.”

“So help you.” You reply, placing the ring at the tip of his cock, ever so slowly rolling it down. His eye roll back as his hips twitch. “If you thought I’d get you off quickly, then you are sadly mistaken. I will have you all night long, begging for me to let you come.” The ring ends at his hilt, his cock redder and more swollen than ever before, pre-come dripping from his tip.

Using one of your fingers, you swipe up some of it, placing it in your mouth. “Mmm, so good.” You wrap your hand around him again, his silky skin burning hot. “You don’t get to come until I am satisfied.” Lowering yourself so your mouth is right on his cock, “And I’m insatiable for you.”

Explicates spill from his mouth as he watches you take him, sucking him slowly.

It’s going to be a long night.

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill smut #august walker #mission impossible fallout #august walker x reader #your local human disaster here #yoursecretsmutblog

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drinkthemlock · 2 years ago

Text

NIGHT AT THE TAVERN

II - SOLFIERI

Hi! I decided I’d post the translations here- since the story is public domain, and I’ve got no one else to share it with. Chapter one (which i’m not done with presently) presents the characters, chapter 2 begins their gothic horror stories. This is Solfieri’s.

Text by Álvares de Azevedo, translation my own.

TW: this chapter contains rape and allusions to necrophilia and being buried alive.

[Revised June 20 2024]

The glasses fell empty atop the table.

“Now listen to me, gentlemen! Between one cheer and one puff of smoke, when heads burn and elbows extend atop the wine-stained tablecloth, like the arms of the butcher in the market drip, what befits us is a gory story, one of those fantastical tales— like Hoffmann delirious in the golden gleam of Johannesburg!”

“A frightening story, no, Archibald?” said a pale man that raised his yellowed head at this proclamation. “Very well, I’ll tell you a story. But about this one you may tremble much, you may sweat cold streams of terror from your foreheads. It is not a tale, but a memory from the past.”

“Solfieri! Solfieri! There you go with your dreams!

“Tell us!”

Solfieri spoke; the others were silent.

SOLFIERI

“Yet one kiss on your pale clay

And those lips once so warm- My heart! My heart!”

BYRON - “Cain”

You know it. Rome is the city of fanaticism and doom; in the priest’s alcove sleeps the concubine, above the bed of the whore hangs the livid crucifix. It is a refinement that mixes sacrilege with the convulsion of love, the lewd kiss with the intoxication of faith!

It was in Rome. One night, the moon shone on beautifully through that warm sky like it does in summer, the freshness of the water exhaled like a sigh from the banks of the Tiber. The night was beautiful. I strolled alone along the […] bridge. The lights were extinguished one by one in the palaces, the streets became solitary, and the sleepy moon hid in the bosom of the clouds. A woman’s shadow appeared in a lone and dark window. It was a white shape— that woman’s face was like a pale statue’s in the moonlight. Down her face, like drops from a fallen chalice, rolled streaks of tears.

I leaned against the edge of a palace. The vision disappeared in the dark of the window and from there a song unfurled. It wasn’t just a melodious voice: there was in that singing something like a frenetic cry, like the moaning of insanity; that voice was grim like the wind's at night in the cemetery, singing the swan song of death’s withered flowers.

After that the singing ceased. The woman appeared at the door. She seemed to spy if there was someone out in the street. She saw nobody— left. I followed her.

It grew later and later into the night: the moon had disappeared from the sky, and rain fell in heavy drops; only I felt thick tears of water roll down my face, like under the weeping of an orphan over a grave…

We walked for a long time through those labyrinthine streets; she finally stopped. We were in a field.

Here and there were crosses that rose over the tall grass. She knelt. She looked like she was sobbing; around her the birds of the night flew.

I don’t know if I fell asleep, I only know that when I woke up I found myself alone in the cemetery. But the pale creature had not been an illusion— the heathers, the hemlocks of the holy ground had been trodden around a cross.

The cold of the night, the night spent under the rain, had caused me a fever. In my delirium I thought again and again about the fairness of that woman, moaned those sobs, and all of those reveries were lost in that gentle singing…

A year later I came back to Rome. Women’s kisses did nothing to satisfy me: in the sleep of satiety that vision would come to me.

One night, after an orgy, I left the contessa Barbara asleep in her bed. I gave one last look at that naked and sleeping form with fever in her cheeks and lewdness in her wet lips, still moaning in her dreams as in the voluptuous agony of love. I left, I don’t know if the night was light or dark, I only know that my head hurt with intoxication. The glasses had been left empty on the table; from the lips of that creature I had drunk the wine of delight until the last drop.

When I took hold of myself I was in a dark place: the stars pierced the windowpanes of a church with their rays. The light of four tapers hit a half-opened casket. I opened it: it was a girl’s. The white from the shroud, the wreath of death on her brow, on the livid and misty skin of her face, the stare of her half-lidded eyes… It was a corpse! And those features reminded me of a forgotten idea— was she the angel from the cemetery? I closed the church’s door which, no matter why, I had found open. I took the corpse out the casket in my arms. It was as heavy as lead.

Do you know the story of headless Mary Stuart and the executioner, ‘of the headless corpse and the heartless man’, as Brantôme tells it? It was a singular idea that which I had. I pulled her into my lap. I pressed a thousand kisses to her lips. She looked beautiful like this; I ripped her shroud, pulled off her veil and her wreath like a groom undressing his bride. She was a form most pure… My dreams had never evoked so perfect a statue. She was truly a statue; so fair was she. The light from the torches gave her that amber pallor that illuminates ancient marbles. The sex was passionate— I reaped those hours in wantonness. To that heat in my chest, that fever on my lips, that convulsion of my love, the pale damsel seemed to come to life. Suddenly she opened her eyes. Somber light illuminated them like a star in the haze — she held me in her arms, a sigh curled her blueish lips… It wasn’t death just then— she’d fainted. Although in the squeeze of those arms there was something of horrible. The stone bed on which I had spent an hour intoxicated was making me cold. I painstakingly managed to release myself from that embrace of her chest... In that instant she woke…

Have you ever heard of catalepsy? It is a horrible nightmare that comes to the waking one being walled up in a tomb; an icy dream in which you feel your members numb and your face washed with others’ tears without being able to reveal you’re alive!

The girl revived little by little. After waking, she fainted. I hid under my cloak and took her into my arms covered in her shroud like a child. In approaching the door I ran into a body; I looked down— it was some gravedigger of the church’s cemetery that there had fallen asleep from drink, having forgotten to close the door...

I left. While crossing the square I was met with a patrol.

‘What have you there?’

It was so late into the night— perhaps they thought me a thief.

‘It’s my wife, she’s passed out.’

‘A woman! But with those long white clothes? Are you by any chance a grave robber?’

One guard approached. He touched her temple— she was cold.

‘It’s a corpse…’

I approached her lips with mine. I felt a warm breath— she still lived.

‘See,’ said I.

The guard approached her face; his coarse lips brushed the girl’s. If I heard the smack of a kiss… The dagger laid unsheathed in my cold hands…

‘Good night, lad. You may go,’ he said.

I walked away— I was tired. Carrying my burden was hard and I felt the girl would wake. Fearing someone would hear her scream and come to her aid, I quickened my step.

She woke when I crossed the door. The first sound that left her mouth was a fearful scream…

I had barely closed the door when someone knocked on it. It was a bunch of libertines, my comrades returning from the orgy. They called out for me to open it.

I locked the girl in my room, then opened it.

Half an hour later I left them in the parlor, still drinking. The confusion of intoxication made them not notice my absence.

When I entered the room I saw that the girl had risen. She laughed a laugh troubled like insanity and cold like a sword’s blade. I overflowed with pain in hearing her like that.

For two days and two nights she carried on with that fever… There was nothing that could be done to free her from that delirium or the laughing of phrenitis. She died after two nights and two days of delirium.

At night I left— I went to speak with a statuary that worked perfectly with wax— and commissioned a statue of that virgin.

When the sculptor left, I lifted the marble slabs of my room and dug a grave there with my hands. Then I took her into my arms one last time, pressed her to my chest, silent and cold, kissed her and covered her with her bedsheet, asleep in eternal slumber. I enclosed her in her grave and placed my bed above it.

For a year— night after night— I slept over the slabs that covered her… One day the statuary brought me his work. I paid for it and paid for his discretion…

Don’t you recall, Bertram, the white shape of a woman that you glimpsed behind my curtains’ veil? Don’t you remember I told you it was a sleeping virgin?”

“And who was that woman, Solfieri?”

“Who was she? Her name?”

“Who cares about one word when you feel that the wine burns your lips just enough? Who asks the name of a whore with whom one slept and felt die under one’s kisses, when one is not even obliged to write her name on the gravestone?”

Solfieri filled a glass— drank it. He was about to rise from the table when one of his comrades grabbed him by the arm.

“Solfieri, is this not all just a tale?”

“By hell it isn’t! By my father who was a count and a criminal, by my mother who was the beautiful Messalina of the streets— by perdition it isn’t! Ever since I sealed that woman in her grave of dirt with my own feet— I swear to ye— I kept the dead girl’s wreath as an amulet. Here it is!”

He opened his shirt, and there at his neck they saw a wreath of withered flowers. “Look at it, wizened and dry like her skull!”

#noite na taverna #álvares de azevedo #literature #brazilian literature #romanticism #gothic literature #dark academia #noite na taverna translation #this took me two days…… god

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hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little · 4 years ago

Text

Voicemail: pt 2

Hawks X Reader

Summary: Commitment is sometimes scary, especially when Keigo already has so much on his plate. So instead of communicating that to his lover, he grows distant.

PART 1

-PART 2-

PART 3

PART 4

Key:

[F/n]= Friend’s name

[F/h]= Friend’s height

—————————————————-

That night wasn’t easy for anyone. There was no sleep, no rest, no breaks. A whole day had gone by and the investigation had gotten nowhere.

No one was out that early in the morning. However, a couple of people reported seeing some sort of black van near the back of the alleyway the day prior. But, that is the only thing they knew.

Keigo was getting desperate, he ended up using all his assets to find out anything that might get him some sort of lead.

He even went as far as contacting people in the league of villains. That didn’t get him even the slightest clue. But, due to his affiliation with the league they offered to poke around since they thought of Keigo as part of their cause, making him family. And you don’t mess with family.

Some of the villains had met the woman before, and some had only heard stories of her.

Dabi was one of the first to see her, but not because of Keigo. He had actually seen her years before they even started dating.

Dabi always kept an eye on his siblings from a distance, but never let himself be seen by any of them. Sometimes, he would even use binoculars to peer through the window of his mother's hospital room just to make sure she was alright.

One day, while he was checking up on his mother, he spotted a young woman he had never seen before walk into the room with a bouquet of flowers. He wasn’t one to trust other people, so he kept watching. And while doing so, he saw how happy his mother was while the young woman was there. Soon, his sister came along, a surprised face present at the sight of the other woman, before seeming to giggle and tackle her into a hug. The mysterious woman squeezed her back, rocking them both side to side as they laughed.

The next time he saw her was when he was walking down the street in a disguise. She was on the other side of the road. But, to her side was the youngest of the Todoroki’s. Shoto looked relaxed and happy, as he talked to her. Talking was so rare for Shoto. He was like a completely different person. Dabi could not wrap his head around this strange woman.

The more he watched her, the more amazed he was. He learned her name, (y/n). She was so motherly to Dabi’s sibling, it was not the fake kind of love though. She showed them true unconditional love and care, she gave them a place to escape to when their father became too much.

It truly brought tears to his eyes. She listened to them, cared for them, and loved them. Someone was there for his family, when he couldn’t be, and he thanked god for her and everything she was. She did not know it at the time, but she had gained a guardian. She was family now, and Dabi would look out for her like he did his mother and siblings.

It wasn’t until she started dating Keigo that Dabi actually got to meet her. Keigo was drunk out of his mind with some of the other villains at the bar of the league’s hideout. It was 2 in the morning and Shigaraki was absolutely done with everyone’s shit, wanting to kick them all out. Keigo was in no position to walk or even fly home. So Kurogiri, being the one sober person out of all the idiots, grabbed Keigo’s phone and called the first number, which also seemed to be the most recurring number on his recents list.

Dabi might have not been the most sober out of all the drunkards at the bar, but his mind was still mostly present. He could make out the panicked feminine voice coming from the speaker of the phone. Poor thing, she sounded so tired, like she just woke up.

Thirty or so minutes later, and a person came through the front doors of the building. Dabi eyes fell onto the figure as time stilled. It was her. It was (y/n). It was the woman who looked after his family. She was right there in front of him.

His thoughts were shattered by a high pitched squeal from an overgrown bird man who tackled the poor woman in a bone crushing hug. (Y/n) quickly apologized for him, hoping that he had not caused them too much trouble, all while Keigo clung to her like a child. She was nothing but polite and sincere as she thanked Kurogiri wishing him a nice night as she ushered Keigo out the door and to the car.

After that night Toga asked that she come around more. Keigo was skeptical, not really trusting any of us. But, Toga was very persistent, even going as far as saying she was going to find the sweet lady herself. Keigo finally gave in and brought (y/n) one night.

It was strange actually talking to her, he could see why his family loved her so much. It was a calm night. The league loved her. She became like his second little sister.

So when Dabi was told the news, he was livid to say the least. They all were. Dabi was also disappointed in not just Keigo, but in himself for not looking after her.

The whole league was on a look out. Toga was ready to slit throats, Shigaraki wanted to disintegrate everyone, Twice was a mix of depression and rage, everyone was on edge.

Keigo appreciated all the help. It was not hard to tell that the hero was falling apart with every second that ticked by. Eyes droopy and red, almost resembling those of the underground hero Eraserhead. Dark bags formed under his eyes

Everyone around could see just how much of a wreck he was from miles away. Especially Endeavor, who was already having to explain to his family what happened to their beloved friend/ family that morning, after the crime. His children looked up to her and he knew it. It had been a long time since he talked to Rei, but he knew that (y/n) was important to her. She was like one of Rei’s children, heck even Endeavor was starting to think of her as his kid.

Each of his children had a different reaction. Fuyumi was the one who he told first, knowing that she could break the news to the rest better than he could. She had always been good at talking to the rest of the boys. But of course, no matter how hard Fuyumi tried to hold herself together, she just couldn’t. She fell to her knees in front of Endeavor crying out.

Little did Endeavor know that she wouldn’t have to tell the other two, because Shoto and Natsuo were in the room right beside them sitting at a table. The walls were thin and all that could be heard was Endeavor’s voice and Fuyumi's cries. Neither of the boys could move, both looking at each other trying to process the words of their father. It hit Natsuo first, as he stormed out the room and left the house. Shoto just sat there, alone. Even when Endeavor stopped talking, Fuyumi’s cries could still be heard. Endeavor tried his best to comfort them, but he had no clue how.

He couldn’t even imagine telling his wife of (y/n) disappearance. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to as he prayed that (y/n) would soon be found.

Rumi wasn’t doing much better, she couldn’t calm down last night. Switching from cries of rage to cries of desperation. Some of her anger pointed towards Keigo, but some pointed herself.

When the investigators were looking through her phone, they found an unsent text that was meant for Rumi. The text read:

Heyyy, so i need to crash somewhere tonight. I can't really go into much detail because i might start crying again and I don't want to wake people up this early in the morning because of my loud ugly crying. I’ll explain when

It stopped there. The text was never finished. Rumi wishes she would have known, she feels responsible for not being there. It did not help when she was informed that (y/n) was also pregnant. She just wants her family back. (Y/n) was always there for her no matter what.

No matter how much anyone else may try and take some blame, Keigo knows that it's his fault that she left the house. He was to blame, but he’s going to fix it. He’s going to find his angel.

Hours went by with no news, but the edgy tension never ceased to suffocate everyone. More heroes were out on patrol, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. The villains were snooping around the shadier parts of japan. Everyone was getting drowsy due to the lack of sleep.

Miles away, that's all she knew. They had driven for hours. Or at least that's what it felt like. But then again, things always seem a little warped when you have lost tremendous amounts. Everything felt so numb, only feeling dull aches resonating from wounds inflicted by her tormentors all over her tired body. They might have hurt her less, but she wasn't going down without a fight. Even when she had begged them to not hurt her and her baby they just kept coming at her. Completely merciless. Dragging her beaten unconscious form into a black van at the end of the alley.

She almost missed the van, it was so much warmer than the unforgiving cold spikes of the concrete nipping at her skin. The poor girl had no idea what was going on. They had tossed her into a rusty cell, damp and frigid, no source of light to be found. Her hungs burned from the musty air breaching her nostrils.

Heavy footsteps clattered from the ceiling above causing tiny dewey water drops to fall onto her dirt crusted face. She couldn’t move her hand to wipe them away. No muscle could obey the command of the mind, all she could do was force her blurry eyes to slightly crack open. Cloudy vision made it hard to focus on her surroundings, but she could sort of make out what seemed to be another cell directly across from her. Something that looked like the outline of a small person sat with their back against the wall, with something laying oh it's lap. All her energy was worn out moving her squinted eyes around, leading her vision to go black. The last thing she heard before passing out was the creaky opening of rusty hinges.

A man rushed through the office corridors, panting as though he ran a marathon, papers bunched up in a death grip by his arms. He kept going until he got to his destination. A golden name plate hung from the door, ‘Boss Bird’. The man didn’t even bother to knock, he just barged in falling through the giant door. The person on the other side of the desk abruptly stood from their seat now on high alert. Slightly slouching forward the man sucked in a couple loads of air before looking up at the person before him.

“We have some possible leads,” He huffed.

The man only saw a flash of red before the person was right before him, wings protruding outwards from their back as razor sharp eyes pierced into his own. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, rendering him speechless.

“What! What do you know!” The man opened his mouth but nothing came out.

All the papers were snatched from his grasp as the other filed through them hoping the papers would tell them something the man couldn’t.

“Call the others.”

“But, Hawks we still ne-”

“That’s a fucking order.” The man was too shocked to move.

“NOW!”

Jumping from his spot he was shuffled out of the door, slamming it behind him, leaving the person inside shaking as rage coursed through their veins.

Endeavor was the first to arrive. Standing right on the other side of the door where he heard a frustrated scream before a heavy thud. He opened the door to see Hawks leaning over his desk, one hand clawing into the wood of the desk, while the other grasped his golden locking, giving them a harty tug.

“What’s the news?” So trapped in his own thoughts, Hawk did not even acknowledge Endeavor.

“Hawks!” Now Endeavor has attention.

The said hero snapped his head to face him, eyes forming deadly thin slits, as if staring at their next kill. But, after Hawks snapped out of his fit and composed himself, he handed the papers to Endeavor. Hawks started pacing as Endeavor studied them. The first was an old report of a case put aside, but never to rest as it was left unsolved.

The headline read: Seven year old girl, reported missing after running away from home. Family said she snuck out at night. A search party was formed by the family and neighbors, but there was no sign of the girl anywhere. When asking around the town over, two separate witnesses claim to have seen a strange black van rushing out of an alleyway late at night when they were heading home from work.

With a frown Endeavor flipped to the next page.

Thirteen year old boy was reported missing by teachers after a school field trip to the downtown park. One person reported seeing a suspicious looking van at the end of the town limits near the park at 12 am, but had no other information.

Then he went to the next page

Five year old girl found mutilated in the back of an alleyway after being reported missing by parents. No evidence could be collected at site. Black van was reported being in the same alleyway prior to finding the girl, but was not there at the time she was found.

Endeavor skipped the next one.

Twenty-five year old woman found dead in a city dumpster.

Next one.

Nineteen year old boy found dead in the alleyway-

All brutal. All unsolved. Four more pages remained but Endeavor couldn’t read anymore. Endeavor looked up from the papers, he couldn't suppress the worry clearly painting his face. Rumi then burst through the door, demanding answers only for Endeavor to shove the papers in her face. Hawk’s pacing only quickened as he watched his friends' reactions. Rumi’s ears folded back flat against her skull as horror washed over her expression.

Lowering the papers she spoke “please tell me that this- this has nothing to do with (y/n)’s case.”

Neither dared to speak, instead opting to let the silence speak for them. Papers swayed to the ground as her hands shot up to grab her hair. She squatted to the ground letting out a string of harsh curses; towards the world, towards hawks, and towards herself.

There was not much information on the reports, but they all had one thing in common. One vital piece. The black van. It was mentioned in each report. Hawks had all his subordinates search all databases for any more information that might get them some more information, but not much was found. He also asked them to make copies of each report, stating that multiple copies meant more people could examine them at the same time. Honestly, Hawks couldn’t believe everyone bought that lame excuse. His real motive was sending copies to the league, having them look into the reports as well.

More surveillance was posted around surrounding cities. Keeping an eye out for any suspicious looking van lurking around. Even police were informed of the situation at hand. So far nothing has come up.

Suddenly Hawks came up with an idea, a set up. Lure the assholes into a trap. Have an seemingly unsuspecting person walk down a couple of streets to bait the criminals out of their stake out. It might be a stretch, but it was worth a shot. The issue was that none of the heroes themselves could play victim, it had to be someone outside of the spotlight. But that was quickly solved when a [f/h] person came walking into the building, demanding to see Hawks so that they may slap the shit out of him. It took awhile for them to calm down once they saw him, but they were quick to jump on the train, offering to play the victim. Hawks was familiar with [f/n]. Rumi and them were the closest thing to family his angel had. He knew he didn’t really have a say in letting [f/n] in on the plan because they would fight tooth and nail had they been denied to position.

Breath whimpers bounced off the walls of the cells. The sound was enough to finally bring [y/n] back to a semi-conscious state. She opened her blurry eyes, bringing a sore shaky hand to her face to rub away the film blocking her vision. While it was still dark she could somewhat make out her surroundings. In a weak attempt to sit upright, her arms gave way making elbows collide with the hard concrete. A pained hiss passed her busted lips as her upper body pounded back to the ground.

“You have to be quiet” [y/n] froze looking towards the direction of the small broken voice.

A tiny frail girl sitting in the cell across the room, huddled in the arms on what looked to be a slightly older boy. Both hunched over in the corner, faces showing nothing but fear. Tattered clothes hung by threads on their bodies, dirt and grime lathering their bodies. Judging by how they looked and acted, they weren’t in the best of conditions, but then again she probably wasn’t either. [Y/n] moved up to sit in slow motions so as to not startle the petrified children. So many questions raced through her mind, thoughts and worries, but for now she had to keep them to herself.

“Hello.” Her voice came out a little scratchy, yet it was still soft and gentle.

Neither child could muster a response. But, the frail girl gave a small wave with her shaky hand. The boy on the other hand only pulled the girl closer to his frame in a defensive manner. It was obvious they didn’t want to talk, be it out of fear or distrust.

Clanking of boots alerted all three of them, growing louder with each harsh smack to the ground. The children cowered further into corner walls, trying to make themselves as small as humanly possible. [Y/n] narrowed her eyes towards the entrance doors. Clank-clank-clank-clank. Only ceasing when they were right on the other side of the door. A hand jangled the knob, causing the hinges to screech apart as the door opened. The girl whimpered, making the boy slap his hand over her mouth. Three men walked into the holding room, all wearing similar attire. Armored vests with white undershirts, brown cargo pants accompanied by black boots sleek with fresh wax.

“Sleeping beauty lives another day,” One of the men said.

“For a second there I thought the boy had surely ruffered her up past the point of return,” another responded.

“Boss would have killed us for sure,” The third pointed out.

All three shared a hearty cackle. Talking about her as if she was some sort of pet. [Y/n] was about to snark back at them until she saw the boy’s panicked expression behind the legs of the men as he held up a quivering finger to his busted lips. Heeding his warning, she bit her tongue as they continued their taunting.

“When is the big guy picking her up?”

“I think he wants her delivered.”

“The hell? Who does he think we are? Fedex? How are we supposed to ship her to America?” [Y/n]’s eyes shot up, panic filling her system.

“Watch ya self bud, hate to end up like the last guy who pissed him off,” They all shuddered.

Adrenaline was overriding her reason, part of her wanting to curse them out and part of her wanting to break down.

One of the men picked up on her panicked state and shook his head. Each one of them giving her some sort of pitiful stare. “Sorry about this dollface. We would have just kept ya here and made you a worker, but ya caught the boss’s eyes. No god can save ya now.”

She doesn’t need a god, she needs Keigo. Every attempt to blink away the tears proved useless as the salty drops fell from her chin. All she could think of was Keigo, her friends, and her unborn child. She felt so weak, so sick.

“Poor thing, doesn’t even know what's coming.”

“Hopefully this one will last longer than the rest.”

“The boys going back out scouting tonight?”

“I think so, but i'm not sure. Anybody heard what we are supposed to do with those two?”

A muffled whimper came through the boy's hand as the girl shook. One of the men turned and slammed his hand on the metal poles of the cell making both kids jump.

The men were still talking, but she couldn’t hear them anymore, the chatter blurred out by the buzzing in her head. Body swaying slightly as her vision began blotting with black patches. Thud. She hit the ground giving into exhaustion and stress swarming her whole being.

Keigo just couldn't settle down, constantly moving some part of his body. This had to work, he didn’t know what he would do if it didn’t. The heroes were working to make the set up seamless and fool proof. However, behind the scenes, the League was hiding in the shadow’s ready to grab any perp trying to flee.

Things really started to fall into place when the moon rose to take the sun’s spotlight. Hawks watched [f/n] walk the dark streets from a roof a couple buildings away. Rumi watched as well, ready to pounce at the first sign of danger. [F/n] strode along the dimly lit pavement, hands in pockets, faking an ignorant facade as they made their way around. It was hard to put up such a front in this kind of situation, but they were going to do their best for [y/n].

Everything seemed pointless until a hand shot out, pulling them into a pitch black alleyway. Go time. Heroes swarmed the alley for every entry point. Nothing was left uncovered. The kidnappers were clearly caught off guard, a total of seven of them; six surrounding [f/n] and one in the drivers side of the black van. They put up quite the fight, but they knew they wouldn’t win so they fled. Only two got back into the van before the driver hit the petal, leaving the rest to fend for themselves. The four that had been left covered the other’s escape. Making it quite difficult for the heroes to give chase, Hawks sent feathers accelerating towards the van. They just weren’t fast enough to all catch the vehicle, but lucky for him a single small feather was able to sneak into the hatch of the back doors. Just as the can was reaching out of sight, Hawks spotted a second vehicle tailing the first. The League was enroute. Turning his back to the villains at hand, they grew tired, reaching their limits making it easier to take the criminals down. Two heroes had to pry Rumi off one of them since she was yelling bloody murder while smashing his head into the ground with brute force. All four were arrested, shoving them in cop cars that were to bring them to the station for question immediately. Not waiting around, Hawks took to the sky flying towards the station. On his way he focused his attention to the single feather that snuck into the van.

Blasts of bright blue flames bursted towards the escaping van. The League practically kissed their bumper. Hawks could hear the yelling between both vehicles. Using the feather, Hawks maneuvered so that it unlatched the doors, making them swing open. Exposing them to Dabi’s flames and Spinner’s bad driving. The two in the back, should have buckled in because they went flying onto the window of the Leagues vehicle causing them to swerve from one side to the other, losing the van and its driver in the process. The driver escaped, but he was completely unaware of the feather that now lay hidden under the left back seat.

Both pests that flew onto the windshield were knockout cold upon impact. Hauling them into the truck, arms and legs tried, the League headed back to their hideout where they planned on doing their own sort of investigation. Notifying Hawks of their catch, and the one that got away.

There was no good cop, bad cop in these interrogations. Absolutely everyone was done playing nice. Back at the station Rumi had already broken one of the criminal’s hands after they idiotically refused to talk. Snap. And there goes the other hand.

“TELL ME!”

Crunch.

“W-we weren’t the ones who picked up ya gi-girl, I swear!”

Hawks threw the other reports on the table. “What about any of them, huh?” He leaned over one of the men, eyes piercing through theirs.

The man's eyes darted to the papers, widening just enough to show some sort of recognition. A cold sweat washed over his features, failing to retain the panic coursing his veins.

“Something you want to share with the room bud?”

The man swallowed thickly eyes glancing at his colleagues for some sort of sign. But, they were just as frightened as him. Hawks could tell the man’s resolve was crumbling, he just needed a little nudge. All attention was zeroed in on the man. Guards came in taking the three other men away, leaving the just him and some pretty pissed heroes.

Squatting down so that Hawks was just below eye level of the man. Plucking a medium sized feather from his wings,Hawks twiddled it around his fingers before the shallow shaft found purchase between his thumb and pointer finger.

“I didn’t get my title for nothin ya know” The lacerating edge of the dangerous weapon now centimeters away from the bridge of the man’s nose. “Wanna find out how I got it?”

As expected, the League was ruthless to their captives. Using all kinds of tortuous methods to get their two to talk. Pulling nails, unhealable burns, Shagiraki even disintegrated the pinky finger of one of them. There was a point where they were begging for sweet death to take them from their cruel unrelenting captors. But, the League was far from done with them. Death couldn’t help them now, their lives belonged to the League. That which could use a couple of new Nomu’s.

Both heroes and villains wracked the kidnappers minds for all they were worth. Diving into every sick bend of their twisted operations. Confessing all of their abductions and murders on top of the ones presented before them. The two kids that are currently being kept at their hideout, as well as [y/n], who they beat unconscious before dragging her away. Hearing that from their respective captives nearly made the heroes and villains go feral. Hawks wanted to scream until his cords bled raw. The only explanation that the captives could muster was that it was their job. They collected the people, and then those people either got put to work as a slave or sent to an affiliate who would use them as lab rats. They didn’t hunt for specific people, just people who they could easily snatch. The whole thing was run by some kind of corporation, originating from America where they have their headquarters.

That’s where [y/n] was being shipped off to. [Y/n] and his baby. America. Miles and Miles away. Red seeped down Hawks vision. One of the men was suicidal enough to comment that Hawks wouldn’t find her in time, since she was probably being packaged and shipped as they spoke, jokingly mentioning she was in no condition to survive that kind of transportation. The man’s neck had to be pried from Hawk’s talons. Red slashes marked the sides of his neck as he was pulled from the room before it was too late.

All the heroes prisoner’s were placed in holding cells for the moment being, but Hawks disabled some of the security of their specific cell and tipped Dabi off on how to slip in there undetected. Hawks wanted the League to collect all of them so he could have his proper turn cutting them up without being restricted by the law.

For right now though he needed to focus on the task at hand. The feather that he sent with the retreating van was so far that it was hard to pinpoint where it was. He could barely sense it enough to move it around, let alone sense its surroundings. But he needed to scope out the place. Hawks sat himself down in a quiet room, isolated from the havoc raining outside, putting all his being into that single feather. It's times like this where he is almost thankful for the grueling training the heroes commission put him through.

The van was empty, but he still needed to be cautious. Keep it out of sight. The one who escaped most likely alarmed everyone of the incident, leaving the inhabitants on look out for any sign of trouble. Little did they know the hell that was about to doom them all. The feather made its way around, maneuvering around right under their feet. On its way it passed by a much more armored vehicle where some of the men were loading cargo into its trunk. Hawks scrunched his closed eyes, trying to decipher the words passing between the men. The voices were hazy and blotchy, letting him only make out every couple of words. Hearing something about the ‘big boss’ and a private jet. As the feather continued to map out the hideout, he heard someone talk about a woman not doing too well in one of the cells. [Y/n], Hawks thought. The feather flew from one place to the next until it came to a giant metal door. A guard stationed at the table to the left of the door, oblivious to the feather trying to slither through the small space between the heavy door and concrete.

Bards twisted and broke from the feather’s shaft. The tight squeeze shredded the feather, but it made it through nonetheless. Due to the condition of the feather, Hawks could only drag it across the concrete. Slowly, but steadily. Halting when it approached two cells, one holding the two missing children, and the other caging his poor dove. All three sleeping upon the cold ground. The feather made its way to his doves cell, approaching her sleeping form. Tears welled in Hawks eyes, gently guiding the feather to caress her grimy cheek. Hoping to provide some comfort and reassurance to her, but also to himself. Oh, how he wished it was his hands cradling her face, instead of that one measly feather. Hawks would give anything just to hold her in his arms, encasing them both in his bright red plumage.

Creeeaak. Hawks shot up eyes darting to the now open door of his isolated space. It was just Rumi, Hawks sighed in relief.

“Get your shit, we head out in 10.”

He nodded, a gesture which she returned before closing the door on her way out. Hawks brought his attention back to the feather, giving her cheek one last tender stoke. After he tucked it within her shirt, slipping it under the side of her bra strap to hide it from prying eyes.

No time was wasted, the heroes were suited up ready to go. The top three hero agencies unified were not a force to reckon with. All fueled by determination and blinding rage.

Since Hawks had the one breaching feather in their base, he led the way. They had been on the move for two hours already. The feather pulsed as they got closer. Feathers on his back twitched in anticipation. It seemed like it was taking forever to reach it, like the pulse was fading with every inch he flew. Hawks couldn’t quite focus that one feather. But, something wasn't right.

Narrowing his eyes, he could see a wrecked black van in the distance. Sitting wasted outside an isolated group of buildings in the middle of nowhere. After reporting this to the squad, they halted, letting Hawks survey from above.

As he looked around, he remembered the other vehicle that the feather came across. But, didn’t see it. Infact, the entire outside seemed empty. That didn’t sit well with him. All the luggage that the men were packing into that other vehicle were gone.

“Not seeing anything from the sky.”

“Roger that. Rumi is heading in from the side entrance.”

“I can speak for myself, Endeavor. Screw off.”

Hawks heard Endeavor sign in annoyance. “I'm gonna go in from the roof, meet ya in Rumi.” She gave an affirmative. Wings soundlessly swooped through the air, bringing him right on the roof of one of the bigger buildings. Something was definitely wrong, he couldn’t feel the feather anywhere in the facility.

“Got some goons on the lower floors” Rumi whispered into the comm.

Relief washed over him. This base wasn’t abandoned. Hawks sent a couple of feathers every which way into the building. He himself climbed into one of the windows on the top. Lucky for him, the room was vacant of life, only a stone table with chipped wooden chairs in the middle of the room occupied the space. Soft footsteps carried him to the door. A door which was slightly cracked open, making it easier for Hawks to peer outside the room. Three guys stood with their backs facing him, all leaning over the rails on the stairwell. Nasty fumes of tabaco wafted into Hawk’s nose, making it scrunch in displeasure. Hawks cracked the door open just a little more to allow two feathers through. Flying just above the men’s heads. Positioning themselves so that they were on the outsides of the men on the end. Before swiftly slamming their heads together. Efficiently knocking them all unconscious without causing a big scene. Feathers returned to their owner who made his way out of the room, guard never dropping as he made his way down the stairs.

Comotions ensued as more heroes, not even very stealthily, broke their way in. Hawks spotted Rumi bashing heads, even smashing chairs into the skulls of the hell bound souls. Rumi met his gaze, shouting out to him over the loud ruckus.

“Go find [y/n] and the kids,” Smash “We’ll handle the rest.”

With a curt nod Hawks scouted through the halls, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Eyes sharp and deadly, like the true avian he was. Wrecking all in his path, hunting for the heavy metal door that held his dove captive. Once it was in view, he darted to it like a bullet, ripping it from the hinges, not even bothering to use the door handle. There were only two words that could describe him at that moment, feral predator.

Two terrified screeches pulled him for his trance. Guilt leaked into his heavy heart, eyes softening as they looked upon two little kids huddled into eachothers arms, fearfully shaking in the farthest corner away from him in the cell to his left. He shifted his gaze to the right, scanning over the dark cell. A blanket covering a human sized lump in the corner opposite to him.

Anxiety clawed at the fear inside of him. He called her name, startling the kids even more. The lump stayed deathly still. Not budging even as he broke open the cell. Shakey steps brought him closer, falling to his feet inches away from the covered figure. His hand moved to grasp the edge of the blanket, but he couldn’t do it. His breath swallowed as the beating of his heart dangerously slowed. Hawks couldn’t bring himself to see what his failures had done to her. He couldn’t bring himself to see her dead. Rotting out before him.

“They took her.” Had Hawks not had such a heightened sense of hearing, he would have never had heard the small voice at all. Nor would he have picked up the grieving tone that laced those words.

But even though he heard them, he didn’t immediately register them. When he did though, his hand yanked at the blanket. Making carefully arranged pillows shift in the process. Confusion washed over him. Standing up, Hawks kicked the pillows to the wall, causing some to tear on the spikey ridden edges of the wall.

However, he stopped after one of the pillows uncovered a blood stained phone set atop the remains of a seared feather cut into pieces. Cautiously, Hawks picked up the device, examining the outside, before tapping the screen. As he was scanning the phone, Rumi and a couple other heroes came in. Rumi went to him while the others went to help the children. The phone came to life, a notification bubble popped up. Informing him that there was one unopened voicemail. Hawks completely ignored Rumi as she questioned him. She even screamed right in his ear, which definitely caught the attention of those around her, but Hawks was too invested in the device that all attempts proved useless.

Hawks pressed on the notification, instantly unlocking it without a password, bringing him straight to the awaiting voicemail. His thumb paused right above the play button.

“Press it already,” Rumi huffed, earning her a side glare from the birdman himself. Her spine gave the slightest shutter at the emotions brewing within those ruby orbs. It was dangerous, threatening, ready to snap at any moment. Those same eyes went back to glaring holes into the screen as his thumb finally tapped on the play button.

“Christ, ya’ll really giv’n me a run for my money. Nice feathers by th’way. Thought ye could just sneak one by my men? They might be dumb enough to get caught, but they ain’t that dumb. It's nothin personal, kid. Just business,”

There was a slight pause and a muffled scream coming from the background, “Will someone shut that bitch up already. God she’s given me a headache.”

A loud smack erupted throughout the speaker, the screaming came to a stop. The man in the recording let out a long sigh. In a more sympathetic tone he said “I left the two rascals, but Boss wants this one. Afraid ye ain’t gett’n her back.”

Hawks grit his teeth, dropping the phone, bolting out of the facility in hopes that might be able to find some kind of sign as to where she could have been taken. Tire marks or streaks of torn clouds in the sky, god just something. Frantically, he continued to circle the sky.

Rumi picked up the phone after he stormed out. A noise on the speaker told her the audio wasn’t done. But, the man’s next words made her wish it was.

“Not alive at least. They never come back alive.”

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Soooooooooooooooo i will make another part because my dumb ADHD having ass keeps getting side tracked. Also thank yall for the love, honestly I feel like this is horrible an so confusing, I’m so sorry XC. I won’t be offended if you tell me this is absolute garbage.

Some people were asking to be tagged so why not, if you want to be added to the tag list for the rest of whatever this is just let me know

Tags @assassinslittlesister @anxiousgoddest

#hawks x reader #bnha hawks #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #mha hawks

133 notes · View notes

songficsbyrissi · 4 years ago

Text

The Fix part 5

Previously on the Fix....(click here for part 4)

As you got closer, you could see it was a man. Fear grew in your body because what business did this man have with you? When you got close enough, the man looked up at you, and you felt your heart drop a thousand feet. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Aaron?”

************

“Aaron?”

You were stunned, seeing the man you called your boyfriend finally show his face after all this time. He was looking better than he did the last time you saw him. More rested and relaxed. Guess the break did him some good. Aaron stood up, slowly, and gave you a small smile.

“Hi.”

You smiled back, nervously. “Hi. What are....what are you doing here?”

He gestured towards your door. “Can we go inside?”

“Uhhh sure. Yeah, of course.” You let out a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding and stepped forward to unlock your door. You opened the door, letting Aaron inside and locked it behind you. Your heart was in a marathon as your head was drowned with anxious thoughts. Right when you forgot about him. Right when you’re ready to accept that he wasn’t yours anymore. Right when you were catching feelings for someone else, he brings his ass back to you.

After some silence, you heard him sigh heavily, staring at his fingers that interlocked in front of him. You sat next to him, waiting for him to speak.

“To answer your question, I’m ready to come back and work on us.”

Record scratch. What?

You stood up abruptly. “Wait, wait, wait. Now you’re ready? After all this time?”

“Well yeah. Why else would I be here, Y/N?”

“I thought you were here to finish the job and break up with me.”

“Do you want me to break up with you?”

At that moment, you found yourself lost for words. Is that what you want? Damn, this was your boyfriend since you started college. So far, You had your whole college experience with him. Were you ready to let him go?

You didn’t know.

Aaron got up from his seat and stepped closer to you. “Listen, I know I fucked up by going ghost on you. That wasn’t right, and I’m sorry. I was just finding myself, and I needed to get you off my mind to properly focus on myself. You gotta understand that.”

You didn’t know why, but you began to tear up at his words. This was what you were waiting for. An explanation. A fucking explanation, as to why he left you hanging after all this time. Why was it making you cry though? Is it because it meant a lot to you? Or that it meant nothing to you, and that scared you?

Once again, you just didn’t know.

Aaron pulled you into a tight hug, and you began to sob in his arms. You were overwhelmed, confused, and sad. What was he doing to you? You were ok until he came back. At least you thought you were ok. Were you ok?

“All this damn time, Aaron!” You pushed him off you. “All this damn time, I just wanted you! I just wanted your ass, and you left me! No call, no text, not even a fucking letter in the mail! I got nothing from you! I waited for you! I waited so long for you!”

He remained quiet as you released your frustration and all the other emotions you felt during the break. You needed this. You needed to let all your emotions and hurt go on the person who caused it.

You began to laugh sarcastically. “What makes you think you even deserve me back?”

“I don’t think I deserve you back, but I’m going to try to deserve you. I need you back, Y/N.”

You couldn’t say that you were expecting that answer. You swallowed hard as you prepared to ask the next question.

“Was there another girl?”

“What?”

“WAS THERE ANOTHER GIRL?!” You screamed, then put a finger in his face. “And don’t you fucking lie to me, Aaron! Was this “break” taken so you can fuck other bitches?”

“No! I didn’t fuck other bitches. I just.....” he sighed deeply, avoiding your eyes. “I just needed my space. I was figuring a lot of things out. I needed the space.”

You wiped your face and turned away from him.

“I need time to think.”

Aaron came up behind you and kissed the top of your head before walking out the door.

Everything was so confusing now. You really thought you were ready to move on. Live life without Aaron. Without talking to him, without thinking about him, without seeing him. You could’ve sworn you were prepared with not doing that shit anymore, which was hard. He was your first love. Once upon a time, he made you so happy, then he made you sad, and now he’s making you frustrated and confused.

You had developed feelings for T’Challa. You didn’t mean to, but you did. Also, he was feeling the same way too. Great sex aside, he was sweet, caring, and looks to match. Unfortunately, he’s a professor, and you’re a student. It’ll be wrong to be more than that, but you lowkey wanted to be more than that.

You concluded that you had to sleep on it and so you did. When you woke up, you saw two good morning texts. Each of the texts were from the two men in your life.

Aaron:

Good morning, Y/N. I know you told me to give you some space, but I wanted you to know I love you.

And then there was T’Challa’s text.

Mr. F:

Good morning, beautiful Y/N. I hope you slept well. I am looking forward to seeing you in my office hours

You laughed at his message, happy that he finally learned to text like a normal person. However, you didn’t think you could see him just yet. Your mind was a mess. You couldn’t face him right now.

You went through the whole day going to classes and avoiding your friends and T’Challa. When you got back to your dorm room after classes, there was a knock at your door. You sighed deeply to yourself. This thinking thing wouldn’t work if Aaron keeps popping up. You opened the door, slightly irritated but relaxed, seeing your friend Cass at the door.

“It’s about time I’ve seen you, Casper!” She invited herself, and you closed the door behind her with a raised eyebrow.

“Casper?”

“Yes, bitch. Because you’re a ghost. But you unfriendly. Anyways, what’s going on?” Cass questioned with her hands on her hips, and you turned around to face her.

“Aaron‘s back.....he came back.” You breathed, happy to finally say it out loud but nervous about her reaction.

Cass made a face. “Ok...? Isn’t that good?”

You sighed deeply, rubbing your forehead. “I don’t know. Is it?”

“Um yes! You know how that old saying goes. If you love something, let it go, and if it comes back, then it’s yours. He came back, bitch!” She stated, excitedly as she grabbed your shoulders.

“He did.” You forced a smirk while looking down.

“Soooo he’s yours!”

You kinked an eyebrow at your friend in suspicion. “Why are you so happy about me and Aaron getting back together!”

She rolled her eyes and shook your shoulders. “Because! I was rooting for y’all! I loved you guys together. As your friend, I couldn’t let you know that because you were heartbroken and shit, but now that it’s happening, I can say it!”

When Cass left your dorm room, you dialed Aaron’s number, and it took him a few rings before he answered.

“Hey Y/N.”

You managed a smile. “Hey. I’ve been thinking, and I decided that we should get back together.”

“You mean that?” He questioned in an excited tone.

You bit your bottom lip. “Yep. Maybe we can go out tomorrow night, get some food, and catch up.”

You could hear his grin on the other line. “Yes. That sounds great. Thank you, Y/N. I won’t let you down.”

“Mhmm.” You hummed before hanging up the phone and throwing yourself on the bed.

Let’s hope he doesn’t.

“Aaron’s back. He...came back.” You avoided making eye contact with the man in front of you. You couldn’t bring yourself to see his reaction.

You heard him shift in his seat. “Why are you telling me this?”

You bit your lip, not knowing what to say next. You literally didn’t know what to say next. You didn’t know what was the right course of action. You felt like you were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Y/N.......” T’Challa got up and closed the gap that you purposely between you two. Damn him. “What are you trying to say?”

You sighed deeply, staring at the ground. “I don’t know.....I just......”

T’Challa stepped in a realization that pissed him off, but he barely showed it. “You want him back.”

It was kind of a question yet kind of a statement. He said it, seeing if you would confirm or deny it.

“I don’t know.” You stepped away from him and faced his bookshelf. “I think I do.”

T’Challa was mad. Livid, almost. However, he was hurt, for the most part. He knew deep down, you still had feelings for your “boyfriend”, but he ignored it. He had hoped Aaron would never come back so he could have you and your heart to himself. But he came back, reminding that you had loved him once upon a time. He should’ve known.

“I take it that we’re done.”

Detecting the anger in his tone, you turned around. “What do you want me to do, T’Challa? He’s my boyfriend. He’s been my boyfriend all this time!”

What did he want you to do? He wanted you to realize he was the man for you, not punk ass Aaron. If he was your man, he would’ve treated you like the queen you are and not abandon you like Aaron did.

But he couldn’t make you realize that. That was something you had to realize on your own. Studying psychology does that to you.

“If he’s been your boyfriend, then what have I been to you all this time, Y/N?” T’Challa questioned with the most hurt expression you’ve ever seen on a man. What did you do?

It hurt you to say it. “My therapist. You’ve been my therapist.”

“As your therapist, I want to say that he doesn’t make you happy, and you know that.”

You snapped. “If he didn’t make me happy, then why the fuck would I get back together with him? Huh? You trying to say I’m stupid or something? Why would I go back to a nigga that didn’t make me happy?!”

“He’s making you sad! The reason why you won’t let go of what’s making you sad is because once upon a time, he was the only thing making you happy. He’s not anymore! Ever since I’ve met you, you found happiness within yourself, and you don’t even realize that! You don’t even see how good you were doing and that him coming back is going to ruin your progress! He’s no good for you, and there’s nothing more I can say to make you realize that!”

You shook your head turning away from T’Challa and facing the door. You felt him walk up behind you and circle his arms around your waist. You felt his lips at your ear and heard him whisper.

“I think.....I think I l.....”

You turned around to face him with a puzzled expression, gazing into his eyes. “You think you what?”

T’Challa shook his head and kissed your forehead. “Nothing. Just go on and be with him. That’s what you’ve wanted all along.” He managed to plaster a fake smile on his face. You weren’t really buying it but figured you had to. You said goodbye and walked out of the door. As you walked away from his office, you felt yourself tearing up and didn’t know why. What was the problem? You’ve gotten what you wanted, right?

Then why aren’t you happy about it?

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kinqjaehyxn · 5 years ago

Text

Homebound

— jung jaehyun

genre: angst

warning(s): arguments, swearing, almost cheating(?)

word count: 1,591

a/n: i really had lots of fun writing this!! its late and i have work at 9am but whatever jaehyun angst is #1 priority heheh

==================== This was not the Jaehyun you knew. This was not the Jaehyun you fell in love with. This is not the Jaehyun you married and started a family with. The Jaehyun you knew and fell in love with was a completely different person than the Jaehyun who standing in front of you. You don't remember when everything went wrong; you were happy, both of you only a year ago. You gave birth to your now one year old son and your 3 year old daughter was gleaming with joy. For some reason, that felt like years ago.

You starting seeing Jaehyun less and less within the year, his children missing him dearly. Maybe it was because of his new job, you tried to convince yourself. Yet even during his vacation time, he'd always be out with the boys or going to a company dinner to grow closer with his new coworkers. It felt like Jaehyun would only come home to sleep and to be honest, that's how it was for a while. You confronted him about it, how you'd never see him anymore and how your daughter would look for him late at night. He promised you that he would try to be home more, for you and your kids. He kept his promise, only for it to be broken a couple weeks later. Promises are meant to be broken right?

The emptiness you felt without Jaehyun almost made you go crazy. You began to miss his familiar scent, the way he would hold you in the late night, everything about him you missed. You watched as your relationship turned sour; normal conversations with him would turn into full-blown arguments. The last fight you guys had ended up with you kicking Jaehyun out of the house. Sick and tired of him coming home late drunk, you forced him out for the night which lasted into a week. He only came back to grab a couple of his things.

The sight of seeing Jaehyun in your shared home made you livid. All the pent up anger and frustration in you suddenly exploded, yelling and shouting at the man who you call your husband. "You've got some nerve to come back here." Your voice low and stern, careful not to wake up your children.

"I'm sorry, are you forgetting who's paying for this house?" He retaliates.

"Both of us you asshole." You scoff. "Why the hell are you even here anyways?"

"I still live here."

You can't help but laugh at his statement, your mind going back to all those nights you spent alone. "Oh do you now?" Sarcasm dripping in your words. "Last time I remember, you were rarely home."

He groans and rubs his face in his hands. "Oh my god Y/N not this bullshit again. You know damn well why I'm not home."

"Because of your friends? Because of your 'company' dinners? You always come home drunk Jae, if you even decide to come home!" Your tone slowly raises, anger slowly spilling out of you.

"For fucks sake, am I not allowed to relax and spend some time with some friends? God forbid me from having any fun."

You feel your heart breaking, like it's a fragile piece of glass that's about to shatter at any moment. "That's not what I said!" You defend yourself. "I don't care what you do with your friends, all I'm asking you is to spend some time with your family once in a while."

His face was turning red, the veins in his neck began to pop out. "I do spend time with you guys!"

"Do you? Jesus Christ Jae, you missed Youngji's birthday 2 weeks ago, your own fucking daughter. How could you?"

Jaehyun knew he was in the wrong, he wanted to stop and apologize. But his ego said otherwise. "I was—"

"At work, of course, you were. Do you have any idea how disappointed she was to not see her dad at her birthday party?"

"Do you want me to quit or something?"

"Jung Jaehyun, you know that's not what I want at all!"

"Fuck this, I'm leaving." He stormed off, slamming the door on his way out. The tears that you didn't know you were holding back finally poured out. Your glass-like heart finally shattering into a million pieces.

Jaehyun slammed the car door as he pulled out his phone and texted the boys. 'Meet you guys at the club!'

His big hands gripped onto the steering wheel as he drove to their usual meet up, anger still coursing through his veins. He tries to calm himself down before entering with his buddies. They immediately notice his mood, jokingly poking fun at him. "Aww did mama bear rip you to shreds today?" One of them teases.

Jaehyun ignored the remark and orders drinks for himself. A few shots later, his swaying back forth on the dance floor. He was drunk, but not to the point where he was messed up. Jaehyun stumbled over to the lounge couch, sitting down to regain himself. He rubbed his face in his hands when he felt the cushion beside him sink down. "Hey cutie," An unfamiliar voice called out. "What are you doing here alone?"

He rubbed his eyes to reveal a girl who looks much younger than he was. She was pretty and she smelled of flowers. She was wearing a sleeveless dress and her long, silky hair was tucked behind her ear. "Why don't I give you some company yeah?" She said seductively as she moved closer.

Jaehyun chuckled, the alcohol spreading throughout his body. Her hand rubbed against his arm, batting her eyelashes at him. Her eyes trailed down to his hand where the silver band wrapped around his finger. "Oh, you're married. Well then," She brought her face closer to his as she whispered against his lips. "don't tell your wife."

It was like something inside of him snapped back to reality. He aggressively shoved the girl off of him and she looked annoyed. "Get off me!" He shouted, standing up.

"C'mon, it'll be our little secret." She clings onto his arm.

"Just get lost will you?" He says sternly. She rolls her eyes and scoffs.

"Whatever, jerk."

Jaehyun feels the urge to go back home to his family. He sobered up quickly and left the club, leaving his friends behind without a word. The drive home felt oddly long. Her voice echoed in his head. He felt so utterly guilty of what could've happened. You were the love of his life, the mother of his children. You were his wife that he loved unconditionally. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he realized how close he was to losing you and his kids, his family for good. He realized how selfish he had been for the past year. To say he felt absolutely awful was an understatement.

The view of the familiar house came into view. He parked his car in the driveway and went straight up to the door. He moved his hand to knock, but quickly remembered that he still had the key. He twists the knob open and went inside, frantically looking for you. He found you sitting in the living room, hugging yourself into a ball. "Y/N" He called out.

You lift your head and stood up to see a distressed Jaehyun. "Jae—"

Jaehyun interrupts you with a bone crushing hug. "I'm sorry," He mutters, "I'm so sorry for everything, love."

You felt tears hit the top of your head and you inhaled his calming scent that was mixed with alcohol. "Did you drive drunk?" You ask, worry filling your voice. "How many times do I have to remind you to never do that Jae! You could've have died!"

He hugged you tighter, amazed at how you still cared for him no matter what. "That could never compare to losing my family. God, I'm so sorry for the way I treated you guys." He sobbed. "I'm so sorry for not being here, for not being the husband and father I promised you I would be."

Your own eyes started to fill with tears at his apology. "You're here now, so it's okay." You whimper.

"You know damn well it's not. Fuck, I can't believe I put you through all that. I'm so sorry honey." His soothing voice made you cried harder, letting out all the sadness that you kept inside. "I promise I'll be better. I promise I'll be here for you guys more. Just please, don't leave me, I can't bear to lose you."

"I could never leave you, love."

Jaehyun pulled away and cupped your face. He wiped the remaining tears away with his thumb and gave you a long, passionate kiss. "I love you so much, never forget that." He says, kissing you once again.

"I love you too Jae, so much." He kissed you once more before pulling you into another hug. You two stayed like that for a while, feeling peace and comfort once again.

"Daddy's home!!" The sound of your little girl rung through the living room.

Jaehyun pulled away and bent down, opening his arms to the little girl running towards him. He peppered her face in kisses as she giggles. "What is my little angel doing up this late?" He smiles, carrying her in his arms. "Let’s get you back to bed sweetheart."

You watched from behind as he walked away with your daughter to her bedroom. You smiled at the sight. He's finally back home.

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #329

“i keep it all inside because i know that man is everything but kind”

What is the best thing about your life right now? Uhhhhh... I guess from a realistic standpoint, my partial hospitalization program. I'm learning very important coping skills and have some social interaction almost every day. How was your second serious relationship different from your first? Did you approach relationships differently with some experience under your belt? My first serious relationship was made deeper than what was safe because I was 100% obsessed with him; meanwhile, with Sara, I feel I loved her in a wiser way and with a sense of self still present. I was definitely more hesitant to "let" myself fall in love again, though, and was very insecure at the start. Whose death affected you the most? My dog's, Teddy. What was the best time you’ve had with a complete stranger? I don't exactly make a habit of hanging out with complete strangers... Who has seen you at your absolute worst? How did your relationship change afterwards? Mom, Jason, Girt, and Colleen, probably. Girt showed up at the ER after my overdose (I was a dramatic fuck and wrote a suicide note on Facebook so I didn't just... go without telling some people things I definitely wanted to), and that's when my crush on him really kicked into gear again. He was and is just always there for me through everything. For Jason, I am quiiiiiiiite sure seeing me have an absolute catatonic breakdown the night of the breakup just pushed him away more. I probably looked crazy. Colleen also showed up at the ER after my suicide attempt, and it brought us closer. Then there's Mom, who's, you know, my mom, and my darkest times have always grown our incredible bond, too, because she would never fail to be there for me. What’s your favorite planet? Saturn is dope. What’s your favorite pasta dish? Just spaghetti with tomato sauce and meatballs. What color do you really want to dye your hair? My top three are pastel pink, light/creamsicle orange, and silver, but there are more. What’s your favorite eye color? Sapphire blue or emerald green. What’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? Um, I don't break into places. What’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? Sara gets super squeaky, bouncy, and just in general wordlessly excited at reptile shows. Going with her to one is one of my favorite memories, mostly just by watching her. Tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. Have I ever been (awake) with friends past 3AM...? Idk. Do you have a favorite coffee shop? Describe it! Not a coffee gal. Who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? Sara. (: When was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Now THERE'S a fuckin question. I don't have the slightest idea. What was your biggest fear as a kid? Is it the same today? Thunderstorms; definitely not. Have you ever been to a Pride festival? No, but I'd love to. How open are you with your parents? I don't tell everything to my dad (though I know I could), but I'm an open book with Mom. Is there anything you’re more open about on the internet (such as on LiveJournal) than you would be in “real life”? I guess my sexual history. I'm just in general pretty open online. What is the most petty thing you’ve ever done? Oh, I'm CERTAIN it involves Jason after the breakup, but I don't know the "most"... What is the longest you’d be willing to wait to have sex in a new relationship? I myself don't want to until we're clearly serious and long-term by that point, and I know for a fact they're in love with me like I am them. I don't care how long they want to wait, though. I said in a previous survey that sex just... isn't that important to me. It's not my most cherished form of intimacy. Who has had the most positive effect on your life? My mama. Are there any relatives that you are not on speaking terms with? What happened? Most of the family doesn't talk to my aunt's literally psychotic, manipulative fuck of an ex-husband. I don't feel like it's my business to share exactly what happened, but yeah, fuck him with a chainsaw. :^) Who was the last person to ask you to hang out? Did you agree to hang out with them? It was more like an open invitation to all of her friends, but I guess you could say Summer. I did. I honestly wanna hang out again. Have you ever had to take a stool or urine test? Why did you have to do this? Urine ones, yes: to 1.) test for UTIs and 2.) ensure I wasn't pregnant before surgery. Is there a food that you eat basically every day? What food is that? Not every day, no. Can you remember the first video game you ever played? What about your first video gaming system? I don't. It was probably something with few controls, like this Barbie horse riding game my sisters and I loved, or an Elmo game that we had on a demo disc. I think you had to follow a path on a pogo stick picking up letters? We had a PS1 when I was born, so that was my first. The last video game you played - did you play alone or with someone else? By "video," I'm going to assume you're not including the computer, in which case I think it was The Legend of Spyro: Dawn of the Dragon, which I was playing alone. It does have a two-player option though that I wanna do one day. The controls are definitely meant for two people. If there is a disc in your computer, what disc is it? There is no disc. Do you shut down your computer every time after you use it, or do you leave it on? I always leave it on... Do you know anyone who has ever been in a movie? Who and what movie were they in? What was their part? Hm, I don't believe so. Describe the last shirt you saw that you really liked. Where did you see it? It was definitely some sort of graphic tee on Facebook, I'm sure. It was something with an opossum design and a short phrase. When was the last time you brought a pet to the vet? What was wrong with it? The most recent vet visit was when we got Roman neutered. Do you have any bug bites on you right now? If so, where? No. When you go fishing, do you make someone else get the fish off the hook? When I DID fish, yeah. Not because I was afraid to touch the fish, but because I was afraid of nicking myself with the inevitably dirty hook. Did you go to daycare when you were little? Only very briefly; my incredible separation anxiety from my mom made it extremely difficult. She very quickly chose our neighbors as my and my sisters' babysitters. I could handle that because I loved "Uncle Donny," the granddad of the family, and I could see my house from their front door. He was/is (idk if he's still alive) a wonderful man. Do you know what you’d have been named had you been born the opposite sex? No. Would you ever visit a nude beach? NOOOOOOOO THANK YOU. Who was the last person you dreamt about? I don't remember. Where is your favorite place to be kissed other than the usual place? Don't touch my neck if you don't have free time lmaooo. What is your favorite memory with one of your grandparents? I'm going to be completely honest: I have none that are exceptionally important to me. I only knew one grandmother most of my life, and we had a turbulent relationship. Would you date someone who has cheated in their previous relationships? Naaaaah son. What was the most drastic change you made to your appearance? Chopping 8+ inches of hair off. Is there anything you hope your significant other/future significant other never finds out about you? No. I don't want to keep secrets from them above all others. What are most of your Facebook posts about? If you're talking things I actually compose myself and not share, probably pictures of my pets, haha. Or small statements regarding political issues or mental health. What’s your favorite part of the song that you’re listening to? The beat. Who was the last person you got into a small argument with? Probably my mom, idk. How warm do you like your showers/baths to be? Pretty hot. In the past year, have you lost weight or gained weight? How much? Gained... and I'd rather not share. What year was the last car you rode in/drove? I have zero clue, but it's old. What’s your worst/funniest experience with one of your neighbors? The neighbors at my childhood home had two wonderful rottweilers, but one day they got loose and killed at least one of our kittens. It died in my hands. Mom was fucking livid and sobbing. Besides this occasion though, we got along with them. How much alone time is too much for you before you start going crazy and want to be around people? It depends on the day, really, and how entertained I am in my alone time. Generally, one day of total isolation (from people, anyway) is enough for me to want my mom's company at least or to be texting Sara. The last time you burned your tongue or mouth, what were you eating? A pizza roll burned my tongue just a tad. Honestly, are you shallow? Not at all. Besides clothes, shoes, and accessories, what’s your favorite thing to shop for? S N A K E S ! ! ! I could LIVE on the Morph Market website and "window shop." I love planning out the next morph I'm most interested in adopting. If you have/had any facial piercings, what side are they on? Any reason you chose that side? If you don’t have any, if you had to get a facial piercing what would it be and what side would it be on? I have a vertical labret on my lower lip that goes directly down the center of my face. I chose it because I love the symmetry. I've had my right nostril pierced twice, just because I preferred that side for whatever reason. What, would you say, is your sexiest/most provocative article of clothing? I don't own anything like that. I have zero interest in showing off my body. Do/did you have attendance problems in school? I was notoriously tardy for the first class of the day a lot because I was an absolute beast to drag out of bed all the way up to college. Does/did your parents ever go through your computer or cell phone? Mom did. What song reminds you the most of a particular day in your life? Why is that? "Where the Wild Wolves Have Gone" by Powerwolf is a strong one. I played it again and again the day Teddy was put down, even before we went to go euthanize him. It was my inspiration to one day spread his ashes at Yellowstone in wolf territory. As much as I'd love to keep his ashes forever, like, what happens after I die? And my sisters? Eventually, that container will lose meaning and probably be discarded, so I want to return him to nature. Do you have any close friends that were adopted? No close ones. Who, in your opinion, is the best thriller writer? Idk. Does your Mom eat meat? Yeah. Do you prefer thick or thin crusted pizza? THICK. Thin crust is an utter disappointment. Do you have any friends with the same name as you? No. Who has the prettiest middle name you know? Ha, I mention Alon a lot when it comes to beauty... I can't remember what it is, but I do know hers wins. Do you prefer it when it gets darker earlier? No. It makes me go to bed earlier. Can you touch your nose with your tongue? No. Is there a particular sport you follow on a regular basis? No. Are there any shows that your friends seem to be obsessed with, but that you just don’t get? Oh, loads. How old was the last child that you spoke to? She's six. What’s a song that makes you feel happy? "Pretty Woman" by Van Halen, for one. How far in advance do you prefer to plan? It depends, but generally kinda far. Do you always smile for pictures? With other people, yes. Some selfies, no, but usually. What are you most excited about right now? my MOTHERFUCKIN tattoo appointment in MAY!!!!!!!!!!! Do you prefer the aisle, middle, or window seat on a plane? Window seat, zero doubts. Where would you like to volunteer? I wanna help at an animal rehab. What was the last thing you ate? A strawberry and grain granola bar thing. How do you find new music? Usually YouTube recommendations. What’s your favorite city? I don't have one. What makes your bedroom special to you and what is your favorite part about it? It's a total nests of my various interests. My favorite part is my meerkat collection. Have you ever had a crush on someone ��too young” for you? No. Do you shave your legs more than once a week? God no. I haven't shaved my legs since October lmao. Would you get married if you could right now? Definitely not right now. I don't have a job or my own place. What is your favorite type of jewelry (i.e. bracelets, necklaces, etc.)? Chokers. Do you regret losing your virginity to who you lost it to? No. I was wholeheartedly in love with him. What was the shittiest hotel you’ve ever stayed at and why? I've never stayed in a bad one, to my recollection. Have you ever gone on a boat and been sick the whole time? No. Have you ever kept something from the wild as a pet? A turtle for a little while, yes. Don't do that. Ever win first place for something? Yeah, a few things. What was the last thing you fell off of? Idk. Do you have a favorite local band? Who are they? No. What’s the most confusing book you ever read? The style in which Johnny Got His Gun is written is very confusing, but you adapt to understand it. Jumping back and forth from the past to the present can give ya some metaphorical whiplash. Do you have a funny last name? Does anyone make fun of it? No. Has anyone ever called your personality dull? Do you agree with them? No. Have you ever personally witnessed a drug deal before? Possibly. Ever have an ultrasound performed on you? What was it for? Yes, for my liver. I can't remember what they were checking for, but I was fine. Have you ever been kicked out of somewhere? Colleen's house, yes. Have you seen all the Lord of the Rings movies? Nope; got no interest. Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? Nah, not for me. Do you enjoy being outdoors? Only if it's cool out, in which case yeah. Do you enjoy watching fireworks on the 4th of July? Not anymore. I just think about the terrified animals (wild and pets alike) and traumatized veterans. Do you enjoy tanning? Not at all. Which of the seven deadly sins do you commit the most? Sloth. Did you have a Furby when you were younger? Yeah. Creepy fuckers. How long was your first relationship? I actually don't remember how long Aaron and I were together... other than it was just a few months. Who was the first person to break your heart? My dad, generally speaking. Romantically, Jason. What’s the biggest lie you’ve told someone? I don’t know. Has anyone ever drawn a picture of you? Yeah. What did the last key you used go to? The car's trunk. Is there anything, any event, you wish you could remember more clearly? I honestly do wish I remembered my "first time" because that's a pretty big deal to me. What’s your biggest priority right now? My mental health. If you’ve stayed overnight in a hospital, how did you entertain yourself? I've done that numerous times, and given there was nothing good on the TV ever, I just slept time away or read. Since every time I was suicidal, there were very, very few things you were allowed to have. Have you ever rubbed anyone’s feet? EW no. Are your hands unsteady? Yes; I have what's called an essential tremor in both. Are your legs long or short? They're proportional to my body. Is there a bookshelf in your room? No. Do you own a robe? What color is it? No. Who’s the last person you smoked weed with? I've never done it. Ever had a person who was obsessed with you so much that it scared you? No. Has anyone ever mistaken you for someone else? Yeah, my sisters in the past. Is there anything you need to talk about with someone? No. Who was the last person who cried around you? My mom. Who’s the last guy to give you roses? Tyler. What band was on the last band t-shirt you wore? Korn. What piercing do you like most on the opposite sex? Maybe snakebites. Do you stick your tongue out often in pictures? Nah. I only ever really did once or twice when I had snake eyes. Honestly, have you ever purchased something, worn it, and then returned it? Possibly? If you could have your own house anywhere in the world, where would it be? In the mountains in a nicely wooded area with a waterfall close by. It'd be nice to have a small stream or pond too to sit or swim in. If you could create a holiday - what would it be? I wish the legalization of gay marriage in America was a legitimate holiday. Are you shy about singing in front of people? OHHHHH YES. Do you own a robe? Do you sleep with a sleep mask? No.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''voices'' by motionless in white

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