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junocandraw · 22 days ago

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JEFF THE KILLER REWRITE 4/4

If you’ve made it this far, I owe you my firstborn. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Anyways, back to edgelord 9000.

Incase you couldn’t tell, this isn’t the beginning. The first part is linked at the top of my page!

The Inferno

It had been a week. An entire week since their aunt from Michigan had come to take Liu away. She pulled up to the Wood’s house in her beat up red minivan, and without even allowing him a hug, took Liu away to a town even smaller than Elmerville. Jeff cried out in the driveway for an hour, before his father pulled him inside.

That week was so painful for Jeff. He missed Liu’s random visits to his room. His drawings, his poetry, his stupid striped scarf. He began to eat even less, and pace even more. He would have moments of violence where he would throw things in his room, punch the walls, or pull out his hair, one strand at a time. He looked like a shell of what he used to be. His friends from Milwaukee, including Stanley, had tried to get into contact with him, but he wouldn’t answer his texts.

Jeff lost track of time. He was beginning to have the opposite problems with his sleep schedule. When he wasn’t pulling his hair out of his head, he was sleeping. He was grateful for this at the beginning, but soon hypersomnia became a problem. He would shut his blackout curtains, and sleep for 48 hours. Once in the week, he went three whole days without eating anything, and drinking out of a left over plastic water bottle in his room. He was so pale and skinny, he looked almost inhuman. All he knew was that everything was getting worse.

One Friday morning, Jeff had been sleeping for around 17 hours straight. His eyes were puffy and red from yet another night of crying himself to sleep. He began to stir when something caught his attention. A vacuum cleaner. His mom was vacuuming the hallway. It was around 11 in the morning. Jeff knew she wasn’t cleaning, she was trying to wake him up.

He buried his head under his pillow, his black nails gripping the white fabric case in an attempt to block out the noise. He desperately wanted more sleep, even though he had been getting more than enough. He realized his attempt was futile when his room door opened, and his stepmother entered. She wore pink capri jeans, an expensive belt, a patterned paisley tank-top, a revolting lipstick color, and a pair of flats. It was an odd choice for the dead of winter. Jeff peeked out from under his pillow, and saw her. He immediately knew that something was up. His suspicions were proved when his stepmother began to speak,

“Jeff! Wake up! It’s a beautiful morning!” She uninvitedly pulled his curtains open, and let the sunlight in, further angering her eldest son. He felt like a vampire being burned alive, as sunlight hadn’t touched his skin in days,

“Mom- What?” He groaned, sitting up in his bed. His stepmother frowned when she saw him. His shaggy black hair was messy, and streaks of eyeliner stained his pale cheeks,

“Jeff, wipe that depressing muck off of your face. It isn’t proper.” She scolded, switching the vacuum cleaner off,

“Are we going somewhere?” Jeff asked, pulling his slippers on as he stepped out of bed. He wore blue sweatpants from his old hockey team, and a black, Jason Vorhees themed hockey shirt.

“Jeff! I have a wonderful surprise for you!” She cheesed, moving to her stepson and grabbing his hands. Jeff was disgusted. This affection was so fake, and her words were sweetly superficial. They dripped from her mouth like honey,

“I know things haven’t been easy for you with Liu gone. I’ve struggled a bit myself.” She lied. Jeff resisted the urge to scoff, and instead raised a quick eyebrow, before settling back into his bored expression, “But, we’re going to set things right. We-“

“Is Liu coming home?” Jeff’s face lit up. This was mostly a jab at his stepmother, a way to show that whatever she was offering, he didn’t care. It was also a glimmer of hope that just maybe, he would see his brother again soon,

“Jeffery. We talked about that.” She looked up sternly at stepson.

“Jeff.” He corrected her. An unnoticeable smile tugged at the left corner of Jeff’s mouth, knowing his disinterest was absolutely killing her. She wanted so badly to fight, but she swallowed her pride, knowing she couldn’t fight to get what she wanted,

“Jeff… The Haydens have invited us over to their house. Randy’s mother and I want to set things right between the two of you.” Jeff felt like the floor had fallen from underneath him, and his heart rate began to increase at the mention of his foe. The feeling was back, the one he hadn’t felt since he was on the ice. That awful, sadistic hatred.

“No. No, Mom. Not in a million years, no.” He ripped his hands out of his stepmother’s grip, and ran one hand through his hair. He started to hyperventilate. He needed to calm down.

“Jeff! What is wrong with you?” His stepmother placed her hands on her hips, “Is it really that bad to make amends? Do you hate the idea of being friends with a normal person that much?”

“Normal person? Does she even know what he did?” Jeff thought, his knuckles whitening from the fists he was making. His stepmother prepared to use her secret weapon,

“This may change your mind. If you make this work for us, Liu can come home early.” Jeff stopped. This kind of a move was his father’s idea, as his stepmother was far too dull to come up with a plan as elaborate as this. His parents had absolutely backed him into a corner. He was trapped. He had no choice. His stepmother took his hands again, her fake, bedazzled nails clawing at Jeff’s skin. He sighed, begrudgingly admitting his defeat,

“Fine.” He muttered, staring down at the floor. Her expression changed from one of anger, back to one of superficial delight.

“I knew you would! Thank you, son. We’re leaving at 6 tonight. Make sure you eat something.” Before she left, she did a double take at Jeff’s black nails, “What is this? Jeff, just- I can’t- clean this off before we leave.” With that, she stormed out of his room, not shutting the door behind her. Jeff stood still, unable to process what had just happened. With all of this rage pent up inside of him, he did the only thing he could think to do.

Jeff gave a swift, unforgiving blow to the wall on his left, right through his Pantera poster, and right through the drywall. He didn’t care. It was just paper. He held his head in his hands, and sat on his bed.

He realized then that it was the first time in a week that he hadn’t been under the hazy trance that controlled his movements while he idly watched. He actually felt in control of his actions. This thought only lasted for a moment, before his attention was directed back towards getting Liu home,

“This is for Liu. It’s just one night. How bad can it be?” Jeff breathed in and out, “It’s fine. I’m fine. It’ll be fine.”

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

It was around when Jeff started getting ready. He found that he couldn’t decide what to wear. When he had come downstairs with a red band t-shirt, a black zip up jacket, black skinny jeans, and Converse, his parents were upset, and sent him back upstairs to change. Luckily, he still had around 30 minutes to decide.

He kept the pair of black skinny jeans on, and opened the door to his closet. All he had to wear were band tees, striped shirts, and patterned or printed hoodies. He furrowed his brow, and began to sift through his wardrobe. Finally, he made it to the back of the row of hangers. All he found was a plain white hoodie. He sighed, realizing it was his best bet. He threw it on over a black System of a Down t-shirt, his favorite band. He laced up his Converse again, and called it a day. It wasn’t exactly fashionable, but it was his.

Jeff picked up an eyeliner pencil and held it in his hand. He stared at it for a moment, examining the label. He remembered that he purchased it from a corner drugstore outside of his neighborhood in Milwaukee a week after he got his full license. He realized that he hadn’t thought about home in a while, which only made the memory more painful. Just as these thoughts flew through Jeff’s mind, he heard a voice call from downstairs,

“Jeff! We’re leaving!” His father called. Jeff looked at the clock on his wall. It read 5:55.

“One second!” Jeff called back, quickly lining his eyes and blending the pigment with his middle finger. He grabbed his phone and his earbuds, and ran swiftly down the stairs. When his parents saw him, they frowned,

“You’re wearing that?” They asked in unison, before Jeff’s stepmother looked at her phone,

“Oh, no time to change. Let’s just go.” His stepmother shook her head, moving out the front door in her over-the-top winter dress.

Once everyone was in the car, Jeff noticed the empty back seat next to him. Jeff looked at his family, noticing how overdressed they were,

“Jeff, why on earth do you think that attire is appropriate?” His father asked, glancing at him in the rear view mirror.

“Don’t you think you’re a little overdressed?” Jeff commented, sitting criss-cross in the car’s seat. His father was about to lecture Jeff, but he was stopped by his wife,

“Jeff, we may be overdressed, but this is how you go if you want to make an impression.” His stepmother explained, as Jeff quit listening. He plugged in his earbuds and began to mentally prepare to be in the same house with Randy for the whole night. He looked out the window. The sun had just begun to set, and the snow fell down gracefully. The sky was a dark blue color, with hints of a sunset behind a dreary overcast on the horizon. That winter hadn’t been super snowy, for Wisconsin at least. It only snowed every couple of days, but it was still very cold. Instead of admiring the beauty of nature, Jeff imagined a scene much more beautiful to him,

Jeff was digging a clip-point knife into Randy’s sternum, breaking each of his ribs with memorable cracking. The look of terror on his face was priceless, as was the crimson blood that stained Jeff’s clothes. He relished in the pained screams and the weak struggling that came from his prey.

“Jeff? Are you listening to me?” His stepmother’s shrill voice interrupted his train of thought,

“Um…yes?”

”Then what did I say?”

“I don’t- I don’t know?” His stepmother sighed, and shook her head. Jeff just continued to stare out the window, his mind wandering back to sadistic visions of gore.

The Woods had driven eastward a little ways out of town. This is where the dairy farms were in the county. All of the sudden, they were surrounded by a thick forest. After they drove a little ways longer down the winding back road, they made it to Randy’s house. They were around 20 minutes from Jeff’s house, and 10 minutes from the school.

They pulled into the Hayden’s long driveway slowly, so as to not lose traction on the ice. They drove for about a minute, before they found the house. It was huge, a borderline mansion. It was painted white with blue shutters and a matching navy blue door. The lawn was illuminated by the glow of warm lights coming from indoors. The house was in the middle of the woods, which made for great privacy. Jeff admired their place. Even he had to admit that it was nice.

They three exited the car, and walked up to the porch. Jeff’s father knocked on the door. Jeff shoved his hands into his hoodie’s pocket. The door opened, and they were greeted by Randy’s mom, whom Jeff hadn’t met. She was a taller, thinner woman. She had short blonde hair that framed her face, and the same dark blue eyes as Randy. She wore a light blue winter sweater, black dress pants, and white ankle boots. She gave the trio a smile, and welcomed them into her home. As Jeff walked in, he could smell roast beef and various vegetables and sides cooking. He had, once again, forgotten to eat, so his stomach growled at the smell of the delicious food. Randy’s mother turned her attention away from Jeff’s parents, and to Jeff,

“You must be Jeff. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Kirsten.” Randy’s mom was a brain surgeon, the breadwinner of the family. She had a strong Canadian accent. She offered Jeff a hand to shake, and he reluctantly obliged.

“Kirsten, are you aware that having your son was a mistake?” Jeff thought, putting his hand back into his pocket,

“I’m really sorry about everything that's happened,” Kirsten pouted her face deceitfully, “Randy never gets into fights. He told me that Jeff is new, and is still getting adjusted.” Jeff turned his head to the side, and then back to Mrs. Hayden. He just couldn’t resist a slight jab at her,

Jeff rolled his eyes, making sure that Mrs. Hayden could see him. Her face flickered with resentment before returning to its false hospitality.

”Jeff, the boys are upstairs in Randy’s room. It’s the second door on the right.” Jeff felt his stomach flip. The dreaded moment of the night had finally come. He gave a curt nod, and turned to the stairs beside where they stood. As he walked, he took note of the family pictures hung all over the walls of the staircase. Once he completed his ascent, he turned right.

There was a dim light coming from underneath one of the doors. Jeff took a shaky inhale, and knocked twice. The conversation inside stopped. He waited for a moment before the door opened. He was face-to-face with his redheaded enemy. Jeff quickly averted his eyes to the floor, waiting for something to happen.

“Hey.” Randy also averted his eyes from Jeff. They stood parallel to each other, unsure of what to do or say. Randy broke the silence with an awkward, “Come in.”

Randy’s room was decorated with Maple Leaf posters, and other hockey decorations. Jeff assumed by his mother’s accent, and Randy’s room, that she was from Toronto. Jeff noticed four other boys in the room with Randy. Tom and Adam sat on the carpeted floor around a TV with a paused video game displayed on the screen, and Troy and Keith sat on Randy’s bed. Jeff felt his heart rate increase. He was at least relieved to see two others who seemed to be there against their wills as well. Randy sat on a gaming chair next to his bed. All eyes were on Jeff, so he broke the incredibly awkward silence,

“I’m…sorry about…everything, dude.” He apologized, even though he didn’t mean a word of what he said. Swallowing his pride did not taste good, but he would have said anything to make Liu come back home. To Jeff’s surprise, Randy laughed.

“It’s fine. I don’t care if you don’t care.” He shrugged, grabbing the PlayStation controller and unpausing the game. Jeff let out a sigh of relief, and plopped down on the floor next to Tom. Tom was playing the game, and Adam was watching.

Jeff remembered Randy’s comment about how Adam “probably couldn’t afford” to go to Milwaukee. He wondered why Adam’s family was at Randy’s house if they disliked them so much. Despite his apology going well, Troy and Keith’s silence made Jeff nervous. Jeff pulled his hoodie off over his head to fight the heat in the house.

”You like System of a Down?” Randy asked, noticing Jeff’s T-shirt.

“Yeah.” Jeff replied, looking down at his t-shirt.

“Name three songs.” Jeff was a bit annoyed at Randy’s pretentious comment, as it seemed like something a middle schooler would say. However, when he looked up, he noticed that Randy was smiling. Not a mean smile, a genuine, happy smile. Jeff felt like he was dreaming,

“Sugar, Soil, and uh…Chop Suey.” Jeff answered proudly.

“Poser.” Randy leaned forward, throwing a punch at Tom’s video game character. Jeff couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so he just tried to continue the conversation,

“What about you?” Jeff questioned,

“Huh?”

“What music do you like?”

“I’m a Led Zeppelin fan. My dad introduced me to them when I was younger.”

“Name three songs.”

“Gallows Pole, Immigrant Song, and The Battle of Evermore.” Randy answered as he won the match in his game, “Do you and Adam want a turn?” Randy asked, offering Jeff his controller. Jeff was hesitant, but agreed. He was a little weirded out by Randy’s weird shift in behavior, but he decided that he would just go downstairs and hide in a bathroom or something until it was time to leave.

After a while of being there, Jeff had actually started to relax a bit. He started to let his guard down, and actually began to have fun with the boys. They played video games, talked about music, hockey, girls, and other teenage-boys things. Jeff even got to hear about some of the town's gossip,

“What have you done while you’ve been out, Jeff?” Adam asked, watching Jeff and Tom fight in Randy’s video game. Jeff let out a long sigh, and shook his head,

“A whole lot of nothing.” He admitted, “My parents took pretty much everything from me, and thanks to the medication I’m on, I can’t drive anywhere. It sucks.” Suddenly, Randy snapped his fingers,

“Driving!” He smiled, eyes wide, “Jeff, do you like cars?” He asked, looking down at Jeff from his bed. When Randy said this, it seemed to grab Troy and Keith’s attention,

“Yeah, I know a little bit about them.” Jeff shrugged, pausing the game.

“Do you want to see my Dad’s 60s mustang? It’s really awesome.” Jeff raised a suspicious eyebrow at Randy,

“Where is it?”

”Oh, in the garage. Trust me, it’s beautiful. You’ll regret it if you don’t.” Jeff wanted to say no, but Randy looked so excited. Everything had been going so well. Randy might just want to show him a cool car. Maybe he would get mad if Jeff said no to him. Maybe there would be another fight. Maybe Liu couldn’t come home,

“Sure.” Jeff nodded, throwing his hoodie back on.

“Okay, but we have to be quiet. My dad doesn’t like me going outside after dark, okay?”

”Outside?” Jeff wondered out loud. Randy stood up, and motioned for his friends to follow behind him. Jeff wasn’t sure about going outside, but he was in too deep now, “For Liu. Do it for Liu.” His mind repeated, the thought of his brother coming home early warming his heart.

The six walked through the upstairs hallway into a large family room in the upstairs area. Randy had a second living room. It was to the right of Randy’s room. All of the lights were off. There was another staircase that led downstairs. At the bottom of it, there was a back door that led outside.

“There's a window outside of the door into the dining room, which is where everyone is.” Randy explained, “We have to be quick and quiet or we'll get caught.” The boys nodded, following Randy down the stairs. Once they made it to the door, Randy opened it, and led them outside. The snow was still falling peacefully, and a thick blanket of it covered the ground. It was very dark out, only the porch light illuminating the exterior of the house. They hurried off of the porch and into Randy’s backyard.

The snow crunched underneath the boys’ shoes. Jeff’s legs were cold, and he began to wonder if the jeans he had chosen were the best choice. He could see his breath as he exhaled, following Randy through the backyard.

“Where…are we going?” Jeff asked, feeling a tinge of nausea,

“The garage is a little ways back here. You can’t see it yet, but the light will come on automatically once we get there.” Just as Randy said this, a motion light lit over their heads, revealing a barn at the entrance of the woods. Jeff shivered, breathing hot air into his hands. The barn was about 60 yards from the house.

“Jeff, I promise, it’s gonna be super cool.” Tom smiled, his green eyes reflecting from the light above. Tom’s reassurance made Jeff feel a bit better. He wondered why they were suddenly on Randy’s side after the mean things he had said to them in the locker room.

Randy attempted to push the sliding barn door open, and eventually did after a long grunt. The inside of the barn was pitch black, only the front of the entrance dimly illuminated by the motion light.

“Come in, it’s toward the back.” Randy had an odd look in his eye, but Jeff moved inside anyway. The dirt floors dusted Jeff’s sneakers, and he couldn’t see a foot in front of him.

“So…where’s the ca-“ Jeff’s sentence was cut short by a blunt force connecting with the back of the head. His body hit the ground along with a metal pipe that Randy had just swung. Jeff clutched his head in pain. It was a trap.

Keith kicked him in his back with much force, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Jeff howled in pain. Just as he tried to stand up, another hard kick connected with the back of his neck. After much difficulty, he shakily stood up, facing away from Randy.

“You’re finally up?” Randy snickered, his two cronies by his side. Tom tried to intervene, but he was knocked to the floor by Troy by a swift punch in the throat. Adam was frozen in place while he watched Tom choking on the blood in his throat. Wasn’t really sure what he was going to do. He moved his feet into a shaky fighting stance, and glared at Randy through his brows. They were about 6 feet apart from each other.

Randy lunged at Jeff, and delivered a good punch to his cheek, knocking him back into a dusty chest on the ground. Suddenly, the ringing in his ears slowly started to return. A fire ignited in Jeff, bringing that feeling back. The fury. The sadistic urges. The pleasure. They had all led up to this moment. He rubbed the spot on his cheek where he had been hit, the violent haze beginning to consume him. He forgot everything he ever knew. He didn’t care about hockey, he didn’t care about Liu, and he didn’t care about Milwaukee. All he wanted to do was hurt the three boys in front of him. Jeff dusted his pants off, and looked up at Randy.

Jeff’s pale face was smeared with black eyeliner, dirt, and a slow drip of blood from his nose. What was the most alarming was the look in his eyes. He was like a violent predator closing in on his prey. Jeff slowly turned his head to the side, and stared at Randy. He wiped his nose on his hoodie sleeve, staining its pure fabric with red blood.

“Randy…what are you doing…?” Adam stuttered, watching Jeff and Randy faceoff in silence.

Randy balled up his fists ready to deliver another blow to Jeff’s face, but Jeff acted quicker. He wrapped his hands around Randy’s neck and pushed him to the ground. He wrestled Randy into the dirt, and pinned his arms down with his knees, just as he had done on the ice. He continued to choke Randy, watching him gasp and sputter for air. A surge of adrenaline ran through Randy’s body, and he pushed Jeff off of him. Jeff quickly recovered, and sent a powerful right hook to Randy’s face who was still on the ground, then another, then another. A wicked cackle escaped Jeff’s throat as he watched his visions become reality. Just then, Troy grabbed Jeff’s hoodie, and pulled him off of the ground. Jeff spun around and sent a strong knee to Troy’s groin, causing him to let go of Jeff and fall over.

Keith came out of nowhere and punched Jeff in the back of the neck. This hurt, but it didn’t stun Jeff. Jeff whipped around and sent a hard fist into Keith’s throat, and then into his chest at just the right moment, stopping his heart. Keith stood shocked for just a moment, before his lifeless body collapsed into the dirt with a thud. With a demented laugh, Jeff launched a final kick directly into Keith’s throat for good measure. He looked unconscious to everyone else, when he was in fact dead. Jeff turned around to Troy and Randy, a wicked grin tugging at the corners of his mouth,

“GUYS!” Tom called out, blood pouring from his mouth. He was far too scared to intervene. Troy stood up and pulled a knife on Adam and Tom so that they wouldn’t come between Jeff and Randy,

“NO ONE INTERRUPTS THEM, OR GUTS WILL FLY.” Troy barked, shoving Adam to the floor. They were helpless. It was between Jeff and Randy now. Randy’s nose was bleeding just like Jeff’s, and he had a nasty incision on his bottom lip. Jeff breathed heavily, reveling in the twisted satisfaction and pleasure that this violence gave him. Randy stared at Jeff, his eyes overflowing with unbridled hatred. He rushed Jeff, sending his fist flying into his opponent’s cheek. Jeff ducked just in time, but received a brutal kick to his back instead. He let out an angered groan before recovering as fast as he could. He then kicked Randy hard into a shelf on the barn’s wall. When Randy collided with the shelf, several items rattled around and fell to the ground.

A can of kerosene fell from the top shelf with a thud beside Randy, barely missing his head. Randy’s eyes landed on the can, lighting up with an idea so horrific, it made him smile. Jeff took his opportunity while he was still on the ground. Jeff punched Randy in the nose as hard as he could. Randy screamed in pain, and pushed Jeff off of him again. He was as angry as ever now. Randy grabbed a knife that had fallen off of the shelf and stood up. He refixed his gaze on Jeff,

“Randy…NO!” Adam called, running to break them up before being grabbed by Troy. It was too late. Randy stabbed Jeff hard in the shoulder. Jeff let out a guttural scream of agony. It was the most pain he had ever been in in his life. He grabbed Randy’s shoulders, and flipped over on top of him. He pulled the knife out of his own shoulder with another blood curdling scream, and held it right above Randy’s throat. Randy was terrified, and he and Jeff struggled for what felt like an eternity. Just as the tip of the knife connected with Randy’s throat, he felt a tug on the back of his bloodstained hoodie,

”JEFF! RANDY! STOP!” Adam begged, trying to pull Jeff off of him. Troy grabbed Adam, and slammed him onto the dirt floor of the barn, kicking him hard in the face with his cowboy boot.

“WHAT’RE YOU DOING?” Tom cried on his knees, trying not to look at Randy’s disgusting blood stained shirt. Jeff was trying to get back up, but he was losing a lot of blood. He was growing weak. Randy shoved Tom, knocking his small frame to the ground. While Adam was busy trying to calm Tom down, Randy grabbed the can of kerosene that had fallen off of the shelf. If you thought about it, Jeff and Randy weren’t that much different anymore. He was just as insane as Jeff was.

Jeff’s body began to try to crawl out to the snow. His vision was growing blurry. The night was so serene. Randy’s house silhouetted against the trees, the lights from inside shining onto the porch and into the backyard. He could see the adults in the dining room, oblivious to what was going on outside. The snow fell to the ground, only seen under the brassy motion activated light outside of the barn. He couldn’t really hear anything, the ringing in his ears had taken the sense away from him entirely.

He was almost to the outside. When his fingertips reached the cold surface, he was dragged back into the barn by his ankles. Randy kicked Jeff in his ribs as hard as he could. Randy shivered because his long sleeve shirt was so stained with blood, it had frozen halfway to his body. Jeff coughed up blood, the metallic liquid staining the dirt.

Randy turned around and stumbled to the shelf. He saw the half empty gallon of kerosene spilled on the ground. He picked it up and started to unscrew the cap.

“Randy…what are you doing?” Troy tried to talk to his friend while still holding Adam and Tom back. The bully realized how long Keith had been laying still for, and began to assume the worst,

“RANDY, THIS IS TOO FAR!!” Adam yelled, Randy pointed the knife at him, and widened his eyes. He could barely be seen in the darkness of the barn,

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP TROY! GET AWAY FROM US OR I SWEAR, I’LL GUT YOU!” Randy screeched, throwing the kerosene can’s cap to the ground. Tom, Troy and Adam were frozen. They wanted to run and tell the adults, but they were scared of what Randy would do to them. They watched helplessly as Randy poured what little was left in the gas tank onto Jeff’s body. Jeff groaned in pain when the gasoline met the wound on his shoulder. He used the last ounce of his strength trying to crawl away. The fluid made him colder than he already was. He shivered, his vision beginning to fade.

Randy let out a chilling laugh. He then took a lighter out of his coat pocket, and struggled to summon the flame. Finally, Randy’s face brightened in the darkness from the orange glow of the lighter. Adam ran towards Randy, but it was too late. As soon as the lighter hit Jeff’s kerosene soaked hoodie, his entire back went up in flames. The scream he let out shook all of the boys to their cores, including Randy. His adrenaline surged and he actually managed to stand up as Randy and Adam fought behind him. He was an inferno, using his last bit of life to tear what remained of his hoodie from his body. The fire had soaked into his teeshirt, which now burned into his skin. Jeff panicked as the flames seared his skin, moving up his body. His skin melted, and sloughed off into the snow in chunks, hissing when it hit the cold snow. The fire cauterized the wound on his shoulder as he collapsed backwards into the cold powder.

The back of his body was put out, but his front was still on fire. The flames had reached his face, and now up in his hair. He tore at his skin, trying to extinguish the blaze. Instead, he just tore pieces of flesh from his face, only worsening the pain. He used his last bit of life to flip his body over. He laid motionless in the cold snow. He still couldn’t hear anything. He stared sideways at the treeine against the night sky. The moon was hidden behind the clouds, and even if it was out, he wouldn’t have been able to see it over the motion light. Everything seemed completely peaceful as the snow fell around him. The pain slowly subsided, as did Jeff’s consciousness.

The last thing Jeff remembered seeing before he faded away was the tall, faceless man standing over him under the flickering barn light.

The Breaking

Jeff’s body had laid still in the hospital for 2 weeks, going in and out of stable condition. He was a medical miracle. If it hadn’t been for the thick blanket of powdery snow on the ground that put out the fire, he would have certainly died.

Jeff’s friends and close family members had visited him throughout his hospitalization. His parents had only stopped by when they absolutely had to, even Jeff’s stepmother, who was a stay-at-home mom. Jeff awoke in the hospital room on a Wednesday.

He could just barely open his eyes as his entire head was wrapped in sterile, white bandages. There were several vases of flowers beside his bed, including an especially beautiful blue and yellow bouquet from Jeff’s old travel hockey team in Milwaukee.

He made a weak attempt to sit up, not realizing the extent to which his upper-half was wrapped up. He was bandaged all the way down to his upper stomach, and all the way down his wrists. He tried to sit up one more time, and was successful. He brought his hands up to his face, and felt the coarse bandages under his fingertips. He tried to unwrap them, but was interrupted by a nurse rushing into his room,

“Hello, Jeffery!” She whispered cheerfully before grabbing Jeff’s hands. He was annoyed that she didn’t call him ‘Jeff’, but he could hardly speak to correct her,

“Water…” He croaked, his throat as dry as a desert. The nurse ran over to a sink in the room, and poured him a little paper cup of water. She put it up to Jeff’s lips, and let him drink in small sips. He started to take in his surroundings,

“Where…am I? What happe-“ This was all Jeff’s mind could process before the memories came pouring back in. His body engulfed in flames and the smell of kerosene and burnt flesh singing his nose after he had been beaten nearly to death. His hands clawing at the dirt floor of the barn to make it to the snow so that he could escape the agony. Randy’s sick grin under his disgusting blue eyes. Jeff felt rage flow through his veins at the thought of Randy.

“Jeffery? Hello?” The nurse asked, waving her hand in front of his face. Jeff responded without averting his gaze an inch,

“It’s Jeff.” He muttered faintly, memories of the fire scorching his skin replaying over and over in his mind.

“I’m sorry,” The nurse was a bit stunned at Jeff’s terrifying blue eyes, “So…Jeff…how are you feeling? Do you need more water?” She asked. Jeff didn’t answer with words. He instead shook his head slowly. The nurse hit the call button, and within minutes, doctors and nurses swarmed the hospital room.

The next few hours, Jeff was pelted with redundant questions from every direction. About an hour in, Jeff stopped answering them entirely. All he could think about was hurting people. Hurting the doctors. Hurting the nurses surrounding him. Mr. H, Coach Barkley, and of course, Randy.

That night, Jeff was left alone by everyone, excluding the first nurse that had originally come to check on him. She would periodically return to give him food or water whenever he needed it. That night, she entered Jeff’s room to find him watching a movie on the TV in front of his bed. On screen, Laurie Strode hid in her closet from Michael Myers, who was just about to break through the door.

“Halloween?” She smiled, carrying a tray of broth. Jeff slowly turned to look up at her. He nodded, “That’s one of my favorites. Have you seen Rob Zombie’s version?” She asked, setting the tray beside Jeff’s bed,

“I hate that movie.” Jeff mumbled, almost inaudibly. He tracked her every move out of the corner of his light blue eyes.

“Me too.” She laughed, agreeing with her patient. She looked to be fresh out of college, with dark, hazel eyes, and long, wavy, brown hair. Freckles dotted her pale face, and she wore dark blue scrubs.

“Michael Myers is my favorite slasher.” Jeff breathed, turning his face back to his movie.

“I love Scream.” She admitted, beginning to spoon feed Jeff his broth. If Jeff was in his right mind, he would have been very embarrassed. Instead, he was enveloped in the body that Michael Myers hung on the wall with a knife through the neck. Jeff found that he liked this nurse, and he wanted to know more about her,

“What’s your name?” He turned his gaze back to her without moving his head,

“Oh I’m Jane.” She smiled, and gave Jeff another spoonful of warm broth. When Jeff finished his dinner, the nurse switched the movie off, and tucked Jeff into bed,

“Will you be here in the morning?” Jeff wondered. His voice almost had a creepy, child-like tone to it.

“Um- Yes! I’ll be here.” She answered, “Goodnight, Jeff. Use the call button if you need anything.”

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

Jeff’s January, February, and the beginning of March were spent in the hospital healing from his burn wounds. Every couple of days, his favorite nurse, Jane, would come in to change his bandages. They would have the same conversation every time:

”Do you want to see your face, Jeff?” She would ask, offering him a mirror. He would shake his head, and giggle childishly,

“No, no, no…It’s not time yet.”

Jeff’s friends would visit sometimes, and Stanley came once a week to check on him. Jeff didn’t care anymore. When they would come, he would give them one word responses to all of their questions, hoping that they would go away. Sometimes, he would pretend to be asleep so that they would drop their gifts off and leave. He had much more important matters at hand.

He would mutter to himself about Randy, or his parents, and about how much he hated them. He would watch his movies, and imagine himself as the antagonist. Every character that died was Randy Hayden. These movies only fueled his twisted fantasies further.

Jeff also began to refuse treatment as much as he could, as it would interrupt his thoughts. His doctors and visitors were beginning to notice Jeff’s behavior. It concerned them, but they replaced their worries with blissful indifference, and moved on. Finally, the day Jeff would be discharged came.

Jeff had insisted multiple times every day that his family not be there when his bandages were finally removed, but unfortunately, his wishes weren’t granted. Jeff’s stepmother and father were scheduled to come in and see Jeff’s bandage removal. Little did Jeff know, there was a surprise that came with them.

“Jeff?” Liu’s voice caused Jeff to turn rapidly towards the doorway, hurting his neck a little in the process,

“Liu?” He called back as his half brother ran to him in an embrace.

“Jeff! I missed you so much!” Liu cried into Jeff’s shoulder, hugging him tight. Jeff’s reunion with Liu didn’t feel anything like he thought it would. He wasn’t really excited or joyed to see his brother. It was underwhelming. It felt empty. He realized then that he had barely given his brother’s absence a thought while in the hospital. Liu was taken away from Jeff with a gentle nudge by Jeff’s main doctor.

“Well…are you ready?” The doctor asked, standing beside Jeff’s bed in a pristine white lab coat. The 4 nurses that had cared for Jeff, including Jane, as well as Jeff’s parents, and Liu stood around the bed in anticipation. Jeff gave a little nod, and felt his arm bandages begin to be unwound. He shut his eyes tight to avoid spoiling the surprise. When the bandage at Jeff’s left shoulder was all the way off, he heard his stepmother irk in horror. The doctor shot her a look, before moving to the other side of the bed to unwrap Jeff’s other arm.

After his chest bandages had been unwrapped, it was time for the grand finale. The doctor unwrapped Jeff’s face, and shakily peeled away the gauze. The whole room gasped when his face was finally revealed.

Jeff opened his eyes, and immediately looked down. His upper arms, shoulders, and chest were covered in jagged peaks and valleys where smooth, pale skin had once been. Surgery scars etched shiny lines all along his upper body. He was a mosaic of pale pink and tan. He slowly moved his hands to touch his chest. The ridges and bumps felt unfamilar to him. Jeff gazed in the mirror that had been provided. The mirror shook, and his knuckles turned white from how hard he gripped the handle.

His face was covered in jagged burn scars that ran all across his face. The upper right side had been relatively unscathed, but his nose, cheeks, chin, and left eye were severely damaged. The outer half of his left eyebrow was gone. He moved his black hair to the side, and found that he had a bit of an undercut below his ear where his hair had been burned away. His blue eyes stood out even more now that his face was covered in scars, almost seeming to glow.

“Mr. And Mrs. Woods…May I speak to you outside?” The lead doctor asked, giving a look of sympathy to Jeff’s stepmother, who was now crying. They were taken outside, and the doctor began to speak,

“Your son is a very lucky boy. Dare I say a walking miracle. He made an incredible recovery, one of the best I’ve ever seen in my 25 years here. However, he still has a long road ahead of him.”

Jeff’s father glared at the doctor, and moved to comfort his wife. The nurses and doctors exited Jeff’s room so that he could spend time alone with his family. Jeff’s parents stayed outside, and spoke quietly together in the lobby of the hospital.

Meanwhile, Liu watched with a great deal of concern as his older brother stared at himself in the mirror. He wore a green hospital gown, and grippy socks. Jeff would feel his skin, and stare at his scarred face. Liu couldn’t tell how he was feeling, as Jeff hadn’t said anything since they had embraced.

“Jeff…It’s not that bad…” Liu tried to comfort him, setting a gentle hand on Jeff’s lower back to avoid touching his scars.

“Not that bad?” He spun around to look at Liu, “It’s perfect!” Jeff turned back around, and laughed.

“Um…What?” Liu raised an eyebrow, worry beginning to simmer inside of him.

“This new face…It matches me perfectly! It’s perfect. It-It looks like me.” Jeff began to repeat ‘It’s perfect’ over and over under his breath, wrapping his fingers in his hair. Liu backed out of the hospital room’s bathroom without his brother noticing. He crept into the hallway, looking for a doctor. He ran straight into Jane, who was carrying clothes for Jeff.

“U-um…are you a doctor?” He mumbled, a bit taken aback by her beauty.

”I’m a nurse, sweetheart.” She answered, “What can I do for you?”

”Um…I don’t think my brother is…okay.” He whispered, not wanting to alert Jeff to his conversation. Jane looked slightly confused,

“How so?”

“He isn’t upset about his face at all…he’s happy. He keeps talking about how “perfect” it is.” Liu answered, talking nervously with his hands.

“Ah…um…I’ll tell the doctor. In the meantime, you can wait outside while your brother gets changed.” Liu nodded, and sat on a bench beside his brother’s room.

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

Jeff gave his doctors and nurses a final goodbye right before he was discharged. He never really cared for any of them, except for Jane. He found her odd. She wasn’t like the rest of the staff. She was the only one who got a hug from Jeff.

The car ride home was bleak and empty. Muffled sobs from Jeff’s stepmother, the engine, and the wind rushing past the car were the only sounds that could be heard. Jeff didn’t pay attention, and instead smiled widely while looking out the window. Liu felt odd, and decided to break the silence,

“What’s for dinner? We should go somewhere special for Jeff.” He suggested, before a scoff from his father,

“Shut up, Liu.” He spoke bluntly, as his wife continued to sob. Liu was alarmed. His parents were mean, but never that bluntly. He looked back at Jeff, to see if this had elicited any reaction from him. Nothing. He continued to smile wide, and stare out the window.

Liu couldn’t explain it, but he had a horrible feeling. A gut-wrenching, sickening, alarm-bell-ringing feeling. His brother needed help, and he knew that his parents would delay a psychiatry appointment for as long as they could.

The End

That night, Jeff hadn’t been able to sleep a wink. All he could think about were his parents, Randy, and his beautiful new face.

They had ruined everything. His parents took his home, his school, hockey, and his brother from him. They wouldn’t listen to his (or his half-brother’s) cries for help, no matter how desperate they were. And when he thought that it couldn’t possibly get worse, they sent him to the slaughter house. They sent him to die. Though Jeff didn’t view his appearance in a negative way, they were why he was disfigured. It was all their fault.

And Randy. He had been a nuisance since the moment he arrived in Elmerville. If he had just left Jeff alone, they might have made a great team. Jeff hated him. He hated him more than his parents. His heart pounded harder than it ever had before. Then, he realized something. He had beat Randy pretty badly when he had first arrived at the school, but Randy had hit him back harder. He had bit off more revenge than he could chew. He hadn’t even been punished for it, as his parents just paid for an expensive lawyer to get him out of the trouble.

Jeff wasn’t like him. He knew that the score needed to be settled. He knew that justice needed to be served. Jeff’s cheeks burned from his manic smiling, and he dropped the facial expression. He sat up in his bed, and shook his fluffy hair around.

“I can’t smile anymore.” He whispered out loud to himself, followed by an angry head shake and groan. He gripped his head in his hands, and gave a loud sigh. Then, an idea popped into his broken mind. He regained his smile, and jumped out of bed with a start to head downstairs.

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

Jeff’s stepmother awoke when she heard a noise coming from outside of her bedroom. She had always been a light sleeper, unlike her husband. She sighed, and tried to ignore it. It was around 12 in the morning. Her hair was in curlers, and she wore pink satin pajamas. The noise grew louder, and she found that she couldn’t ignore it any longer. She figured it was Liu trying to sneak a midnight snack. Too bad he couldn’t be any quieter.

She pulled her slippers on, and walked slowly to her bedroom door. She opened it, allowing her to better hear the noises. The guest bathroom’s light was on. It was across the living room from their room, about 25 feet away. She crept towards it, finding that the door was slightly opened. It sounded almost like crying. As she approached the door, her mind made more sense of what she heard. It was laughter. Twisted, evil laughter. A chill ran down her spine.

When she set her hand on the door to open it, the laughter instantly stopped. She took a quick breath, unsure of what to do. She hesitated before pushing the door all the way open. What she saw horrified her. Her hands moved to cover her agape mouth as her body was frozen in shock.

Jeff stood in front of the bathroom vanity, which was covered in blood. Bloody handprints covered the mirror, as well as the walls, the sink, the floor, and even the cabinet below the sink. The bathroom looked like a piece of modern art. Jeff gripped a blood soaked knife in his right hand, evidence of what he had just done. His burned cheeks were freshly sliced open into a gruesome smile. Blood poured out onto his light gray band tee-shirt, underneath which he wore a long sleeved black shirt. Mrs. Woods had a look of disbelief on her face as she stared at what her son had done to himself,

“You…Jeff- What- What have you done?” She stared at him as he let out a soul-chilling cackle.

“I-I couldn’t keep smiling…It….It hurt after a while…so…I did this! Now, I can smile forever...” His pale blue eyes were ringed in black. He had taken his eyeliner in a messy attempt to enhance his appearance.

“Son…you look hideous…w-what have you done!?” She screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks, “All these years your father and I have been through, and for what?!” Jeff’s psychotic smile changed. His chin tilted downwards, and he stared at his stepmother through his eyebrows. His smile fled his face,

“You…d-don’t think I’m beautiful…do you?” He cocked his head slightly to the side. Before his stepmother could answer, he rushed her with his knife, gutting her. Her organs and copious amounts of red blood spilled out onto the bathroom floor, furthering the mess he had already created. Jeff couldn’t contain his laughter as he watched her lifeless body fall to the floor, twitching and sputtering for air. When he looked up, he saw his father standing in the darkness of the living room, frozen in terror,

“Son…” Was all he said. Jeff resumed a smile, although it wasn’t quite as large this time,

“Dad?” Jeff questioned, wiping the blood on his knife off with his sleeve, “Do you think I’m beautiful?” Jeff’s father stared at his wife’s bloody corpse on the floor. He said nothing, his biggest mistake. Jeff’s smile faded again, and he lunged at his father.

His shoved his son, but it had nothing to it. Jeff was a machine that was running off of adrenaline, bloodlust, and rage, a deadly combination. He stabbed his father in the chest, his ribs cracking loudly. When Jeff pulled the knife out. Jeff’s father yowled, clutching his bloody shirt. He staggered backwards, unsure of what to do. He fell into the short coffee table with a loud crash. The glass shattered beneath his weight, and the wood support that held the table up in the middle impaled him straight through his stomach. He tried to scream, but no sound came out.

He looked up at his eldest son, his blue eyes seeming to glow in the dark. The only sounds were Jeff’s footsteps and the drops of his own blood hitting the floor. Jeff tilted his head to the side again, staring at his helpless father’s suffering. When he was bored of this sight, he leaned over him, and slit his throat, blood spurting out on the carpet.

When Jeff stood back up, he sighed out and smiled again. He was pleased with what he saw. He had made such quick work of his parents, and it felt great. They wouldn’t be there to bother him anymore. When he stood up to leave, he heard a soft groaning sound coming from behind him. When he turned around, he saw his stepmother crawling towards him, dragging her intestines out behind her. She left a smear of blood on the floor like a snail. Jeff got down to her level, and finished her off with a quick stab in the back of her neck.

He flopped down on the couch for a moment, examining the chaos of the living room that was only illuminated by the light from the guest bathroom. Warm blood flowed slowly down his chin and neck, but he couldn’t feel a thing. It was eerily silent, his surroundings standing in awe at what he had just done.

He pondered his next move, and decided to go for a drive. He padded silently up the stairs, and stepped quietly through the hallway. Just as he was about to enter his room, he remembered his brother. He walked slowly to Liu’s room, his door already cracked open. When he pushed on the wood, he found his brother asleep in his bed. He listened to music with headphones, so Jeff knew he wouldn’t have heard any of the commotion downstairs.

Jeff moved silently to Liu’s bed, and leaned over him. This woke Liu up, but just barely. The room was too dark for him to actually see Jeff’s appearance.

“Jeff…?” He muttered sleepily. Jeff gave his brother a bloody kiss on the forehead, “Jeff did you…wash your face?” Liu chuckled, wiping his forehead with his sleeve and pulling his covers over his shoulder. Jeff smiled slightly, stroking his brother’s brown hair with his hand.

“Go to sleep, asshole.” Liu whispered, hugging his pillow and trying to return to his slumber. Jeff said nothing and took his knife out of his pocket, wiping it clean of his parent’s blood with his hoodie sleeve.

“No, Liu.” He uttered, a short giggle escaping his lungs. Liu stirred more, sitting up in his bed. Jeff grabbed Liu’s shoulder, and pushed him back down into his bed with force, “Jeff, stop-”

Jeff raised his knife above his head, the light from the hallway catching the blade. It took Liu a moment to process, but when he did, he let out a scream so loud, Jeff had to cover his mouth with his hand to shut him up. He plunged the knife directly into Liu’s chest. Directly into his beating heart. Liu looked stunned, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened to him. Jeff yanked the knife out, and stabbed him again. Then again. Then again. He kept going for around 5 minutes, until Liu’s poor body had around 34 stab wounds in it. He looked like a slush of blood, organs, and bone fragments. His face was unrecognizable because Jeff had carved a deep smile into his cheeks to match his own. Liu didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. He was dead. Jeff’s beloved brother was dead, and he felt nothing.

Jeff climbed out of Liu’s blood-soaked bed, and dusted himself off. Obviously, this did no good. He threw Liu’s door open, knowing now that he was basically home alone. He felt sick to his stomach. What he had done hadn’t quite registered yet. He was too focused on what he was going to do next. He had limited time. He had to make the most of it.

Jeff went back to his room, leaving bloody footprints in the carpet. He flipped his bedroom light on, and began to search for what he needed. He changed his clothes, as the ones he was wearing were completely saturated in blood, and would become unbearable in the cold. He put on a team hockey hoodie from his old school, and a Black Veil Brides shirt over it for warmth. He grabbed a black jacket, his fuzzy socks, boots, and a thicker pair of insulated pants. He had some fingerless gloves that he pulled on, along with a couple of bracelets from his nightstand.

Jeff walked down the stairs, and passed the site where he murdered his parents. He admired his work for one more quick moment, before grabbing his car keys off of the kitchen’s island with shaking hands. When he opened the house’s garage door, he felt a rush of chilly air surround his body. He looked out into the serene night sky, dusted with stars and the occasional clouds. It was mesmerising. With one final glance backwards at his parents, he disappeared into the night, leaving the new house’s door wide open.

OH MY GOSH??? YOU READ THE WHOLE THING???? THIS MUST MEAN THAT YOU LIKED IT?? THANKS!!

#jeffery tigran woods #jeff the killer rewrite #jeffery woods #jeff the killer creepypasta #jeff woods #jeff the killer #liu creepypasta #liu woods #homicidal liu #creepypasta #creepypasta rewrite #creepypasta jtk #creepypasta au #creepypasta fandom #creepy pasta #horror writing #jane the killer

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hiimawarish · 2 years ago

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for you, i would fall from grace

s. diluc overthinking whether he is worthy of you or not. cw. a little angst? maybe? also fluff. fem/afab reader. reader is not from mondstat, but it is never specified where she comes from. tw. mention of death (crepus). not proofread. wc. 0.9k a/n. idk what to say, i just had a thought and it ended up in this. i wrote this before i had to connect to my teaching training, so excuse any typos. credits. dividers by @/cafekitsune.

He was tainted.

The realization dawned on Diluc as slowly and certainly as the sun set every evening. He was tainted. His hands, the same hands he used to protect Mondstat from the Fatui, were stained in blood. He had always known, of course—there was not a day when he could forget that his own father’s blood had been spilled by his hands, even if he had done so out of mercy.

What was that saying Adelinde always said when he was a child?

Oh, right.

Hell is full of good intentions.

In any case, Diluc had never truly been the oblivious type. Not to his own faults and flaws, anyway. He was aware of his shortcomings, his mistakes. Perhaps that was what had pushed him to spend sleepless nights protecting the city. Whatever his reasoning, Diluc had always known that his actions would never wash the blood off his hands. He didn’t mind. He hadn’t minded. Not until you came along.

You came barreling into his life on an evening he remembered perfectly. If he had been any good at painting, perhaps he would have been able to replicate the crimson glow of the sunset that day. He would have been able to place each cloud perfectly in the sky, stained in shades of pink, orange, and purple. You came into his life laughing, an outlander visiting Mondstat for the first time—he had been fortunate enough not to have to leave his post at the Angel’s share, and instead spent the night refilling your drinks and snacks, listening to the stories of your travels.

Diluc had never been quite as chatty, and he had realized early that most people found him too broody and intimidating to even approach him. You did not. Whether it was the adrenaline of finally arriving at Mondstat or the dandelion wine working through your organism, you didn’t know. The only thing you knew was that you needed to speak, to ramble, and he had turned out to be a good listener.

That should have been the first sign, Diluc realized. He should have known at the moment that you would become more necessary to him than air—that he would feel an asphyxiating pain within his chest whenever you were away. He should have known, but who could have guessed that Master Diluc, the head of the Dawn Winery, the owner of Angel’s Share, would fall head over heels for a sweet thing like you?

You were sweet.

You were, in Kaeya’s words, full of joy.

“She’s good for you”, he had said, ignoring, as usual, the glare sent his way. “You need some sunshine.”

Sunshine. He had called you sunshine.

Diluc soon realized that, no matter how much he willed Kaeya to be wrong, he was not—you were sunshine incarnate. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear the sweetest wines he produced were all made when you were around. He might even swear that the longer you stayed, the less Fatui incidents he encountered. You were sunshine—you were his lucky charm.

But he was tainted.

He realized that as blinding as your light was, it seemed to dissolve his own darkness. The shadows that had grown within his heart melted whenever you wrapped your arms around him; your warmth trapped him in a golden cage he’d gladly stay. It dawned on him as you laid next to him in bed—your soft breathing, your chest rising and falling, one of your hands clutching the pillow, the other wrapped around his waist.

Your hands were clean, only ever tainted by the occasional tears of frustration. He feared, sometimes, that you’d be tainted by him whenever he held you in his arms. He lived in constant terror that you would realize what he actually was, that you’d see through his mask only to realize he was far too damaged for you… That he was far too consumed in darkness for a creature of light like you.

“Just go to sleep.”

Your voice, as if it were no more than a mermaid song, snapped him out of his musings. His amber eyes looked down at you, your frame curled up against his side. Your eyes fluttering open, just slightly, enough for you to glance at him, an amused smile on your lips. He still relished in how easy you made it seem—how contagious your smile was, pulling his into a curve without him willing his lips into it.

“I thought you were asleep,” He whispered back.

You closed your eyes, head softly nuzzling into his side. He could feel you taking a deep breath, as if trying to take all of his essence in. “How can I sleep knowing you’re overthinking again, hm?”

Harsh words whispered in the softest tone made Diluc chuckle amidst the darkness of your shared room, the vibration from his laughter resonating deep within your ribcage.

“Overthinking,” He repeated, almost musing.

You pulled on him, then, asking him quietly to close his eyes. Diluc merely smiled, allowing you to pull him wherever you wanted him, until he had transformed into a protective cocoon for you.

Maybe you were right.

He was overthinking—even if he were nothing but a moth attracted to your flame, you would not burn him. You were too gentle a burst of sunshine to ever dream of such a thing.

And he was far too powerless against you, no matter how blood-stained his hands were.

more works.

#genshin impact #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x fem!reader #diluc x y/n #natsu writes

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maggie-margret-blog · 3 months ago

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The Affairs of High Society

Royalty AU x Ateez

“What’s the problem with finding her so attractive? It’s unlike you to be so… so frail of mind.” Hongjoong, the second son of his family, sat back leisurely, head rested on a white, satin pillow case. His nose bridge reached high, carrying thought after thought to his pekined lips, red and pinkish in hue. The young lord had been hiding out in the rests of his befriended and dear Jeong Yunho. The first of sons in his family and heir to the clan head. Yunho was a tall, brooding figure, his image completed with a handsome mug and voice toned as a harp.

“It’s not that I’m frail of mind, Hongjoong, I’m simply cautious.” Yunho explains his inner workings as he paces, plank after plank of cherry wood shredding beneath his leather-souled boots.

“That’s rich-“ Hongjoong chortles, “I’ve never known you to be of that mind. Cautious is simply not a word you know. The Jeong Yunho I know, and have known for years, takes what he likes when he likes, no time for thoughts of else.”

“I’m afraid that man you speak of so fondly has abruptly began to mature. I haven’t the slightest notion as to how, but her presence is enough to gear me different.” Yunho’s voice, silken and deep, tickled the man’s ear, a smirk of knowing on his similarly sharp profile.

“You have a crush.”

“Hongjoong- I do not have a “crush” alright? I’m simply…. Inclined towards her, for one reason or the other!” Yunho ‘tsk’s at such a blunt statement, adding childish implication to his feelings towards the woman in question. “Reasons one and two-“ Hongjoong places hands over his chest area, falsely weighting them with perverted intent. The older chuckles as the younger’s expression sours to one of distaste. “How vulgar. I’m a man I know, but still. Have some decency.” Yunho scolded, chucking the nearest thing on his dresser at the reclined male. “If I needed decency I would have learned it years ago. I have no chance at being my clan’s head.” He sighs with burden, the truth of the words stinging his throat slightly. His older brother was well mannered and respectful whilst he withered with ill-attentiveness and spite.

“But you’re still my friend, and I want the best for you. So learn how to control yourself.” Yunho spits, pulling up his sleeves as he continues to pace. “There’s nothing wrong with admiring a woman’s chest. It’s a beautiful thing.” Hongjoong says loosely. He didn’t have much care for who heard him speak of these things. He was amongst his best company.

Yunho sighs heavily and rocks backward on his heels. He wasn’t wrong. Yunho had caught himself admiring her well endowed figure on more than one occasion. She was plump, rosie, sweet. He imagined her lips would taste like a strawberry cordial after a long day in the sun. He could visualize how she’d greet him when he came through the door, or how she’d look next to him in her slip. His cheeks burned red with the thought, but he couldn’t resist. All of the ideas of how she’d be, hands tangled in his set hair, her pink stained nails scratching at his back. Yunho had to calm himself before meeting Hongjoong’s informed gaze.

He knew what the clan head was thinking. “You’re as uncouth as I, Yunho.” The older poked, sitting up from his reclined state, smoothing his hair back with a delicate hand.

“Yes but there’s a difference between inside filth and outside filth. You should study that.” Yunho shot back, encasing his features in his large hand, concealing his blush from the other.

“Filth is the spice of life, my friend.” Hongjoong retorted.

“And what about you? Hm? Is that “spice-of-life filth” the same with the eldest son of the Park clan? Is he someone you can disclose these thoughts to?” Yunho began, salting a wound of Hongjoong’s. The older snaps up immediately, eyes darting from his friend and back down to the bed spread.

“That is completely different. I don’t wish to be teased about such things.” He holds his ground, though he shrinks back a bit. Hongjoong regretted telling Yunho of his debauched sexcapades involving the first Lord of the Park clan. Those were stories he’d take with him to his grave, though shared with his best friend in the midst. He’d never want to taint both his and Seonghwa’s reputation in their localized society.

“Well, don’t tease me then.” Yunho spat, expression changing to one of lorn.

“Forgive me, I’m sorry.” Hongjoong said softly, offering the taller a smile. “I forgive you.” Yunho replied, a sneaky smile creeping onto his stone profile. “Besides, you’ll be seeing him tonight won’t you?” Yunho questions as he takes a step towards the exterior window, eyes sweeping over the extensive lawn, daisied with ornamental shrubbery and fountains. Outside, his mother held tight to a leash, tethered to a large yellow lab. His mother was and always had been a controversial subject amongst hierarchy; she demanded she do her own bidding, take care of her own children and sleep with her own husband. Yunho adored her for that.

“Well everyone will be seeing everyone tonight. But my attendance will be for naught if he doesn’t notice.” Hongjoong confessed, joining his towering friend at the window, eyes gracing the same sights at Yunho’s.

“And you’ll see her. In all her wondrous, womanly beauty.”

Yunho nods gently, the statement ringing true. He would be seeing that woman tonight, gowned and made up for the public. Jealousy concerning every man In her vicinity boiled in Yunho’s system. He was possessive. He was greedy and selfish. Though he had yet to tell her how he was feeling, he felt owed her company. The awareness of the truth of the matter, that she owed him nothing but a fair trial, made it harder for the poor, lovesick man. The taller man was aware of his unjust entitlement to her conversation, yet he couldn’t help himself.

Hongjoong, adjacently, tangled his fingers in knots as his stomach followed suit. The young lord was a standing guest. A guest of honor if he truly thought of it. The party was a celebration of Seonghwa’s ascension to Clan head and his family’s salvation. Lord Seonghwa’s father had been a strict head, leaving much to natural selection, while sparing nothing in his own home. After he had passed in the previous months, the clan rejoiced as they determined Seonghwa as leader. The next generation would be salted and preserved with compassion through the new clan head. Youth could breathe as long as Lord Seonghwa sat at the crown of the table.

As strict as the previous head was, Seonghwa loved dearly to laugh.

“I don’t know if I will approach him on his day. I wouldn’t want him to become anything for ridicule.” Hongjoong said softly, raking his hand through his dark hair.

“Who’s to ridicule a friendly greeting? Certainly no one of importance-“ Yunho jested.

“These people have a nose for scandal, Yunho. You know that as well as I. No one is spared when it’s in the name of gossip. Seonghwa doesn’t deserve to be spoken ill of. I’ve already staked my claim and I stand by it. But, he hasn’t.” Hongjoong crossed his arms over his coated chest, the decorative gold-work on his vest tearing painfully into his wrist, but he made no move to eliminate the pain. He wasn’t one for the end of self discipline, more so in the direction of punishment than to the betterment of himself. A sword thrust into his side would be pulled with great procrastination, the blood being a reminder to his weakness. How dare he let himself bleed.

“You doom yourself. Narratively or not, my friend, you close your being in as small a box as possible. I dread your inner monologue concerning yourself and your misfortune of birth.” The taller of the two men exhaled in exasperation, ripping his gaze from the woman who raised him and facing the door of his bedroom.

“Am I not allowed woes? Am I not deserving?” Hongjoong questioned, eyes lingering over the woman still holding the leash betwixt her dainty fingers. Hongjoong had watched her closely in his years of friendship with her son. She was strong but delicate. Determined but soft spoken and wise. He would almost prefer her direction over that of a man.

He whispers to himself in hush, “if only I had been a daughter.”

Yunho’s ears, sharp as they were, disregarded his grumbles.

Hongjoong didn’t wish himself a woman, but envied the nature in which they grew. He wished that once his parents found out he was another son, that he would be placed in the family as a prize like his sisters had been. He had been bred for conversation and den talk, whilst being prepared in no special manners. His brother had been doted on and his sisters had been groomed into marriage material for future suitors. Hongjoong had been taken along on business, but pushed aside as an after thought because of his birth order. His brother sat at the head of the table with his father and mother, while he sat between his middle and youngest sisters. He hadn’t been raised like the others, but tolerated into adulthood, where he wore the blight of his family on his chest like a brooch.

The black sheep, the drunk, the one who flirts with women and plays in gambling dens with common people. He’d be true to those names in time, but found himself surrounded by people who tried steering him otherwise. Example, Jeong Yunho. Example, Park Seonghwa. Among others who found his misfortune belittled and enjoyed him anyways. San and Jongho of Choi clan; Yeosang of Kang clan; Mingi of Song clan; Wooyoung of Jung clan. His friends outnumbered his troubles in many senses, all fun loving, exuberant fellows. In a way he was similar to Jongho, being in second place and to San. But he was his cousin and would have the chance to head his own syndicate of the Choi clan at anytime. Mingi would succeed his father, and soon. Wooyoung would succeed his mother, flipping their matriarchal family into one of patriarchal society for the first time in three generations.

“You are more than deserving my friend.” Yunho says fondly, taking long strides towards the wooden door, clasping the knob in his large hand and freeing himself from the confines of his room.

“Hongjoong hummed lightly in acknowledgment, yet barring any attempt of following his counterpart. He would stay in Yunho’s room alone, until it was necessary he leave. Then, he’d hightail home to ready himself for the celebration.

————

“Oh brother you missed it!”

“Oh he was so handsome! I could’ve died. I could’ve have died where I stood!”

A rush of giggling, blushing girls met Hongjoong at the door, eyes sparkling with excitement and lips curled in hopeful anticipation.

“My my, what could I have possibly missed that got you this excited?” Hongjoong couldn’t help but laugh as he disregarded his coat and hat to the maid, bowing his head to her out of respect. She had a hand in raising him from infancy and he appreciated her as much. “Welcome home my Lord.” She curtsied smally and took his things.

“Thank you-“ he chimed before turning his attention back to his little sisters. “Now who was so handsome that even I’d pain to miss him?” He teased, running a hand through the youngest’s curls. She was nearing her teenage years and desperately wanted to be included in her older sibling’s conversations.

The oldest began, “Lord Park Seonghwa was here! In the flesh I could barely believe it brother! He was so handsome!”

“The Lord?” Hongjoong answers, this time with more seriousness in his tone. His sisters had been right; he should’ve been there. “What was he doing here?”

“Oh, well he said he was looking for you. He had sent a messenger in his stead a few hours before, but since you weren’t here, he came in person.” The oldest divulged, hands clasped at her front and eyes turned up in an innocent smile.

“Papa asked him if he had come to stake claim in me before he took his position as the head of the Park clan. But, he regretfully declined.” She said with a somber, yet sweet grin.

Hongjoong could barely focus on any of the words spoken to him.

Seonghwa? Came to his estate? On the day of his succession?

“Uh-“ He said sheepishly, eyes finally meeting those to his sisters. “Well good thing! I can’t have just any clan head making off with my sister. Besides he’ll have to fight me first.”

He iterated, though not in jest. He’d have a hard time letting his young sisters go, to any man. He saw them as precious, pure beings. Ones who loved him regardless of others.

The middle girl stayed quiet, but still engaged. “What’s wrong my dear? Was he not handsome enough for you?” He teased, tapping her chin lightly as he walked past, making his way to the sitting room.

“Not like Lord Choi San, am I right Ami?” The oldest of the girls poked fun as she joined her brother on the sofa. Ami was visibly embarrassed by her statement, standing shyly in place after the accusation.

“Oh? Do you fancy San?” Hongjoong sat back into the down-stuffed cushions, finally letting his body rest.

“Yes she does Hongjoong! I’ve seen how they look at each other at parties. She’s absolutely sick over him. She’ll be on one end of the line, while he’s at the other and she’ll still be blushing.”

Ami reels backwards, turning to face the tapestry coated wall. She didn’t want her brother to think ill of her for her obvious feelings towards his friend. In these circumstances, though, she could barely help herself. Her mind played the images of the things they had already undertaken in secrecy.

Ami also didn’t want San to have Hongjoong’s anger against him. If he had known of how “intimate” the pair had already been, she was positive their friendship would spoil.

The dances weren’t the only times Ami had blushed so profusely due to San’s presence. She could recall a time her body was beat red under his tantric gaze, muscled arms holding her frame in place as he drove into her from behind like a wild dog. Her thoughts led her towards dark skies, looming and storming over her shy, quaint exterior. Though her lips may never admit, may never confess to their inside affair, Ami would hold the memories close to her.

She had spent her life in the shadow of her older sister. Lively and inviting as she was.

The eldest daughter was popular with men and ultimately was seen as the catch of the family. Ami, shy and reserved, had only been approached by one man in her span, Choi San.

In her 20 years Ami had come to accept her fate as the second daughter, homely when set next to her sister, and so soft spoken her brother claimed he needed a horn to hear her. She’d known that her sister was the magnet, the driving force. So, when the Lord San had asked for her hand in a dance, she was more than visibly shocked.

“It’s not uncommon. I know most women swoon when he’s there. I’ve heard countless stories about women who have gone after him-“ Hongjoong began as he observed Ami’s questionable behavior. She was shy, he knew that much, but she was also an adult who could handle herself for the most part. He wouldn’t concern himself with her girlish whimsies until they were threatened by an outer source.

“Stop teasing her, she’s only fancying him.” Hongjoong says quietly, only for the eldest sister to hear. As close as he was with the eldest sister, he placed an appending preciousness on the middle sister due to her demure nature.

“Oh come now Hongjoong, she can handle herself.” She retorted as her lips curled into a fleeting grin. She too adored her little sister, timid in image and expression shy to most. Those closest to her knew her of a more giggly adaptation. Her smile was sweet and bright while her dark curls softened her small, rounded face. Any attempt of corruption would certainly be stifled by her pure appearance.

Ami would have agreed with her sister’s thought, had it not been for Lord Choi San.

She took in a soothing breath, excusing herself from the clustered room, and proceeds sheepishly toward her upstairs room. Ami’s chest burns with the looming shame of her actions as her fingers grapple with the chartreuse fabric of her layered skirts.

“Ami- mhm, pardon me- Lady Ami,”

A voice known well by the aforementioned called after her. Lord Song Mingi.

She was sure Mingi had been greeted at the gate, reasons being for Hongjoong, and not just that he had barged in the home.

“Lord Mingi-“ she says softly, bowing her head respectfully towards the man, hands falling to her front in a ladylike lock.

The young Lord smiles, a trait he was recognized for, flashing his asymmetrical teeth.

“Ami- how lovely to see you. It’s been so long.” Mingi’s voice was deep and crawled slowly. Ami wouldn’t deny the gentleman his looks; a masculine brow bone, strong nose, and high cheeks. His eyes sat flatly in his features, though still tempting.

Ami took a step forward, eyes still wandering the lordship’s face.

“2 years, my lord. When I was turning 18 in Goreya.” He hums fondly of girl, mind replaying the happenings. He remembered nothing of the night apart from the sirenic beauty of her and boiling drunk in the corner of Hongjoong’s bed chamber. His smile deepened, nodding smally and sighing awkwardly in the silence. It’s as if he had forgotten to reply.

“Ah yes- I brought San with me!” Mingi said abruptly as his trance is broken, hunting eyes shifting towards the entrance.

Ami’s stomach dropped at the statement as a cold sweat broke on the nape of her neck.

The man’s shapely silhouette hung tightly in the foyer, conversation engaged with her father. She heaved a sigh as she began to turn towards the stairwell in hopes they wouldn’t notice her attempted escape.

“San! Look who it is. Miss Ami.” Mingi exclaimed, calling his accomplice over with the wave of his hand. She watches her father nod his head slightly towards the man and stepping backward as if to give him permission.

“Ami-“ San’s voice floods her senses, rushing in as if a dam had broken and things had returned to their natural state. San. Choi San.

“Lord San-“ she says with a strained voice, eyes unable to focus on any one thing.

“Ami-“ He says again, this time burdened with something comfortable but hidden. San’s walk was airy and light, heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to toe. His shoulders were attentively broad and his waist was tantalizingly thin, all the more compelling to look at for every young woman this side of the country. Sat atop his muscular build was his blemishless neck, carved from marble by an artist of heavenly skill. The taught tendons lined the neck well while his protruding adam’s apple bobbed with each word. He was a masterpiece, really. One that Ami could hardly turn from. If his portrait had been hung in a gallery for all to gander, she’d be the last in the room to leave, looking him over, the brush strokes and textured patches that added depth and warmth to his already ethereal beauty.

San kept his breathing in check as he approached the two, quicker than previously intended. The man’s heart was pacing atrociously. She was in front of him. Her.

“What business do you have here? Of course we’re always happy to have you.” Ami begins, straightening her back and shoulders to appear trained and confident, though her stomach toiled and turned. “Your father-“ Mingi was forever smiling. “To speak with your father-“

San interrupts, eyes falling to Ami’s skirt covered feet. He smirked unconsciously; black and blue slippers, embroidered in some floral pattern. The Kim clan was one to flaunt wealth even in the confines of their own estate.

Ami can feel San’s intense emotions as they exude from his pores, staunch and ripely confident. She’d been close enough to Lord Choi San and his dominant scent to tell when they shared that certain feeling.

“Mingi,” The lord spoke quickly, head swiveling to meet the other man’s eyes. “You go find Hongjoong and have your talk. I want to take a walk on the property. I haven’t been around it in several years.” His expression was one of urgency, filtered only by his calm, soothing tone.

“Are you sure? I thought maybe you’d enjoy sitting in on our-“

“No- I’m really fine. I’ll take a walk.”

The hall seemed to close in on the very two of them, shrinking as Mingi nodded with understanding and waved them ado.

San stepped silently towards Ami as his presence grew thicker, harder to digest.

“Will you accompany me, Lady Ami?”

She inhales slightly, a knot forming in her throat as she nods once, then twice. She would be happy to, in fact she was ecstatic. The thought of any time alone with the lord made her giddy with anticipation. Her spine tingled from the excitement while she tried her best not to let her emotions wear her face.

San grins slyly, holding out an arm as a silent invitation and she takes it with little to no hesitation. The blush was a secondary concern as they began walking and San leans to whisper in the girl’s ear.

“Where will we be free from interruption?”

His voice is low and silken like the comforter on Ami’s bed.

She swallows faintly, her eyes lowering to the man’s arm holding hers.

“If anyone catches us upstairs I fear we’d be berated.” She expressed. He nods and hums softly.

“Any place else you can think of. I miss you Ami-“ San says quietly but in ernest.

His body temperature leveled higher than nature had intended each time he saw the woman. Her soft exterior and doe eyes made him stir in every way possible. Nights were hellish for the man as thoughts of her swayed to and fro in his mind. Memories and reenactments of their time together bullied him so. His cheeks flared red, hand furiously gripping and pulling at his hardened cock, the feeling almost a ghost of the woman he desired. Though San would never admit to those actions, too vile to mention to the lady, he would desire her just the same. Ami restricted around his arm tighter, pulling the appendage closer to her breast. “We have a barn loft,” she whispers. His eyes sweep over her in a stream of lust. “That’s perfect.”

—————

The wind whipped violently outside the slats of barn wood, sending a chill up Ami’s spine as San’s hand gripped her’s gently, all the while the other hand tactfully untied her undergarment. “San-“ she says quietly, voice carried on a single, shaky breath. His fingers pulled the fabric down to the girl’s ankles and tenderly shimmied the cloth around her feet, laying in the pile of straw to their left. Whatever chilly weather was haunting the outdoors barely reached them where they lay. San’s lips impressioned down Ami’s leg, leading to her thigh, littering the milken skin with purple and red blotches to be admired. His hands touched her as if he were breaking the stillness of a calm, slow going lake. San was gentle with his touch while driven mad with just.

Lips followed finger as he made his way upwards still, finally brushing the soft outer gates of her entrance. He sighs hotly against her, leaving a kiss on her shell. San stalled momentarily as his eyes flickered upward to observe Ami’s expression, one of relief and pleasure. She was heavenly to him; her body was a perfect culmination of everything he held dear and precious. Her sweetness only added to how much he reveled in her pleasure. Ami. Ami. Ami. His mind would reel with her name over and over and over and over and over, until he was a shell of a man, leaving the only thing desired to be Kim Ami.

His tongue moved languidly over the plush heat, lapping at the coated, pink walls dripping in something sweet that San couldn’t resist. His primal urges kicked into overdrive each and every time he pressed his face to her steaming mecca. His pointed nose rested on the mound of her folds, nuzzling adoringly at her softness and scent. San had fiend like a madman over her taste in the past, licking his lips to taste her longer as he pleasured himself. But now it was real. Her soft moans and the delicate fingers gripping at his black hair.

The man consumed the flow of whatever came to him as his hands wandered down her body, grabbing at the softness of her figure. The rough pads of his thumbs caressed over her exposed breasts, toying lightly with the pinkish areola causing the skin to prune under his fingerprints. He loved the feeling. Ami couldn’t deny her enjoyment either. Her body writhed with pleasure as San’s mouth teased and prodded at her entrance. The tip of his tongue swiped inside, collecting whatever arousal had pooled. Low grumbles emitted from between her legs as San satisfied himself as well, a veined hand now shoved inside the front of his trousers.

The grips and grabs on her hips and thighs tightened as San became impatient. He wanted to be inside her desperately.

Ami called his name softly as not to alert any outsiders to their activities. She didn’t know what she would do with herself if anyone knew of their illicit relationship, hidden behind a shroud of acquaintance. She would just die if anyone knew of how he pulsed through her like a rush of adrenaline, or how his body ached for nothing more than to collide with her’s in messy meshes and wet, unsavory title waves.

San pulled away from her aching core, eyes half-lidded and heavy with need. “My turn-“ he says lowly. Ami nods anxiously as the man rises to his knees, unbuckling his trousers, face still slick with her excitement. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, savoring her taste made especially for him. The stiffened member peaks out as soon as San drops the clothing and places a hand over the shaft, fisting the length of it a few times over.

Ami’s eyes reluctantly tear from San’s actions, only to be met with the equally sinful sight of him in ecstasy, eyes lazily taking in the image of her body, his free hand unbuttoning his shirt to expose what Ami knew to be the peak male physique.

With a deep breath and a swift movement, San hovered over the woman, lips pressed harshly against her ear.

“Get on top.”

——-

Mingi’s heart dropped the moment his eyes met the man’s. His nerves were those that he wore so evidently on his face, confirmed with how easy we was to cry in hard situations. All knew of Lord Song’s tender heart, but scorned him not, instead joining in his shareable emotion. This was something that held him so highly in his clan. He had evidence of emotional intelligence beyond most of his sex.

So, when he stepped to Clan Leader Kim with a proposition of marriage for his eldest daughter, the suspense of his answer toiled within him. He had known Lady Yeri since childhood and regarded her highly in all areas. Intelligence, looks, grace. All that mattered to him in his search for the woman to lead the Song Clan with him. A woman to be by his side, and a woman to love. Mingi was aware of other former clan leaders sharing in multiple wives, but he rejected the idea. He wanted one wife. He wanted Kim Yeri.

“You want to marry my daughter, Mingi?” The clan leader asked for clarification as he sat back in cushioned study chair. Mingi looked up from his deep bow, knees now burdened with pain from kneeling on the ground for so long. “Yes, clan leader, I do.” He replied, hands folding in his lap while a cloud of unsureness encased the room. “Which one?” The older man questioned with a hearty laugh; one that pushed the man’s eyes upwards just like Hongjoong’s Mingi noticed. Mingi’s face reddens. He hadn’t specified which one, had he?

“I would- Pardon me, Sir. I would like to ask for Lady Yeri’s hand in marriage.” Mingi chokes through his embarrassment, shifting in his position. He was more so uncomfortable to think that the clan leader possibly considered that he would be interested in marrying his youngest daughter, a 12-year-old girl. Mingi would rather die than be viewed as that sort of man.

“My Yeri? She’s an interesting girl.” The leader said bluntly, though through a grin. He looked upon his oldest daughter in a different light, one of adoration and affection. His love for his baby girl was incomparable, so he wasn’t lunging at this proposal. Mingi was of good standing and he was handsome, something to consider for his decision.

“She is.” Mingi agreed with a look of admiration.

The older man tucked back into the chair a little further with a quizzical furrow of his brow. His weathered, weary hands stroked lightly at his chin, as few whiskers as there was. Paints of blue and yellow littered the man’s skin due to his still working body. He jutted his bottom lip slightly, tilting to the right to readjust and crossed one leg over the other.

“Mingi, tell me-“ he began, gripping his smoking pipe from the side table and stuffing the bowl with a sweet tobacco.

“Yes sir,” Mingi replied, eyes large in anticipation. The elder struck a match, puffing at the pipe and setting the contents ablaze. Mingi watched as it embered out, now a steady steam of smoke.

“You like Yeri, truly? Do you think she likes you?”

“Well I- I do like her truly, very very much. I like her a lot. But, I’m not sure how Lady Yeri feels about me, sir. I’ve only tried to court her in the last month.” Mingi admitted. His heart was racing at the question and was beginning to feel the weight of his proposal. Did she like him? At all?

“If you think Lady Yeri will have you, then you have my blessing.” The clan leader took in a long drag of his pipe to hide the growing smile on his face. The idea was exciting to him, finally realizing his little girl was a sought after young woman. It burned him slightly to fight another man for her care, but it did truly make him happy.

“Thank you- thank you so much sir!” Mingi grappled at the leader’s feet, thanking him relentlessly. He was breathless and more than happy to accept the challenge of winning Yeri’s affection if he didn’t already have it. “Thank you-“ he heaved.

“Okay Mingi. Get up, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Mingi said softly as he detached his hands from the man’s foot, sitting up from the ground and smoothed out his clothing.

“If you want her, then go ask her.” The older instructed as he looked away from the younger man.

“Yes sir. Thank you sir.” Mingi couldn’t help his giddiness as he raised from the wooden floor and turned to the door, ready to fly to wherever Yeri might be. He wanted more her more than anything.

The man flew through the door of the study, hand firm on the family ring in his breast pocket. He had brought it for motivation, and more so as a physical beacon of his claim. He wanted to take Yeri as his wife as soon as possible.

The clan leader watches as Mingi scuffles inelegantly from his sight, tripping over Lord knows what and grinning to himself like a self-proud child. He wasn’t sure if Yeri would approve of the lad as eclectic and exuberant as he was. The man had never been the picture of grace and dignity but he was kind, and the Clan leader was sure he would provide for his oldest daughter. His body relaxed into his seat. It was his greatest wish, to have his daughters cared for and valued. One thing the Kim Clan stood for was the ability of woman and the influence they held over society. It may have been a man’s world, but Clan Leader Kim wouldn’t have dreamt of it without his women.

So he prayed Yeri would accept Mingi’s proposal outright. He prayed they would be happy. He prayed for swift reproduction and many grandchildren. He prayed for-

“No.”

The clan leader cringed as he heard a stern disagreement.

“Yeri, wait!” He heard Mingi and then racing foot steps in some odd direction.

“No, Mingi! I will not marry you!”

‘Oh hell,’ the man thought with an exhausted sigh. The halls were filled with the sounds of sobbing and bickering as Mingi did his best to try and convince Yeri that their union would mean great things. She could have whatever she pleased, she could do whatever she desired. He wouldn’t hold her back in the slightest; he just wanted her to be his wife. Yeri couldn’t hold herself back from the inevitable tears after frustration. She didn’t want to marry this man, and was stunned he would ask this of her. Yeri had known Mingi since she was a child, young and impressionable. She hadn’t been aware of his romantic feelings for her and the sudden knowledge felt like a darkening streak on their relationship thus far. Had he always seen her as someone to pursue? Yeri felt preyed upon.

“My dear-my dear Lady Yeri, please. Why not? Bestow me that much.” Mingi begged as he grabbed her hand, stopping the woman from moving any further. He pressed the smaller hand to his lips in a desperate gesture of unrequited affection. His eyes pleaded, wet with confusion and anticipation. He hadn’t suspected she’d act out like so, violently and irrationally. He knew she didn’t have to say yes, but it seemed like such a great deal of a reaction. The yelling, the running, the crying.

“Mingi please, let go!” Yeri cried as she yanked her hand but failed. He held it tightly, mulling over her rejection. “No, not until you tell me why!”

“I don’t owe you anything Song Mingi! Now let go.” Her voice lowers and settles in a deep, calmer tone. She was serious and the man could tell. Mingi slowly unclamped her hand, letting it fall from his grasp and watched it retract to her chest. Yeri heaved in deep breaths of sure panic. “No, no you’re right I’m sorry. You don’t owe me anything. Not your hand, not your love, and not your kindness. Forgive me Lady Yeri.” He bit back the sting in his voice, his tongue cramping under the pressure of bayed tears. Never had he been so brutally cast aside.

——-

Hongjoong added one last piece to his ensemble. A ring detailing the family crest in ornate black and silver. Though he knew his standing in the familial home, he’d never deny his name.

The celebration was set to begin in just two hours, his stomach curled and toiled at the thought. Seeing Lord Seonghwa is his beautiful glory. He could imagine the dark, lengthy curls that bordered his slender, sharp features. The idea of Seonghwa in his natural state sent a shiver up Hongjoong’s spine. Seonghwa was a mystical form, one of great seduction and yet elegance of the highest and most powerful degree. He held himself like a storybook prince and spoke as so. His tongue was sharp but lingering and his tone was pure poison to hear. Hongjoong couldn’t imagine how many people the man had seduced with his voice alone.

He had captured him, that was for certain.

Hongjoong shook the thought from his head as he took one last look in the mirror before exiting the room. His head was still brimming with theories and concepts concerning the leader-to-be, but were abruptly replaced with questions as he spotted Lord Choi San in the corridor.

Not only was San there, but his dear Ami was on his arm.

“Lord San, Ami.” He spoke after a moment of silence, observing their behavior for a minute or two. They were close, smiling and roughed up a bit. “Brother!” Ami responded in surprise as she removed herself from San’s side, much to his dismay. “Hongjoong-“ San followed in their confusion.

“Good lord Ami you look horrible!” The eldest spat as he noticed the smudged lip matte, the straw still lodged in her hair and the loose appearance of her dress. He swallowed heavily, mind running wild with accusation after accusation. “What happened?”

Ami’s brain stilled as soon as she saw her brother as frazzled as he was over her appearance. What would she say? Would she tell him the truth? She’d be forced to wed Lord San to cover up their illicit affair if that be the case. She wouldn’t dare tell her older brother what was happening. She could die! She could just die-

“You see I was taking a walk about the property and I happened to see Lady Ami in the barn. She had been climbing the loft ladder to retrieve a kitten.” San began, silencing the chaos in Ami’s head.

“Right! And- and my foot slipped. I would’ve plummeted quite a distance if Lord San hadn’t been there to break my fall. I must thank him incredulously for his service.” Her voice steadied as the lie progressed, turning to face San with an innocent smile. “Thank you for saving me.”

San’s expression turned to one of delight as he dipped in an acute bow. “You’re welcome my lady.”

Hongjoong eyed the couple unsurely before finally settling. His lips curved upwards into a smile, a fleck of praise on his lips. “Thank you San. I’m grateful you were there for my little sister.”

The man bowed deeply towards the elder, “Of course, Hongjoong.”

————-

Hongjoong sat opposite of Yunho in the bustling, gravel-beaten carriage. The roads were muddy from the earlier weather but it hadn’t deterred any attendees from the what’s was to be the biggest party of the year. The night in which all the clans put aside whatever differences they may have to celebrate the coming forth of a new generation. Park Seonghwa’s accession to the head of Park Clan was something all had been anticipating and now that it was happening, none would miss the opportunity to witness it. The Park Clan was the largest of the 7, bearing most of the land as well as wealth. They shouldered the country’s welfare, but cared for their members as much as they did their own families. The rise of the newest, and youngest, leader was upon them. Contemplations of his strength or ability were kept to a minimum in the circle of elites that truly knew the young lord. He was capable of most anything and with his approaching status, he would quench any criticism that may have befallen him.

Park Seonghwa was a man of effeminate beauty that was known well amongst the clans. It was his first power- his weapon. His looks were striking. If anyone had seen the lord for the first time, they may have mistaken him for one of the Park’s reputable, sought after escorts. His dark, luscious hair brushed closely with his broad shoulders, connecting deliberately to his delicately tapered waistline and long, slender legs. It was easy to understand why Lord Hongjoong had fallen so desperately in love with the man. His affections ran red on the ground from intensity. Thoughts of lord Seonghwa swirled in tantalizing sequences around lord Kim’s guttered mind. The addictive sound of Seonghwa’s pleasure- the lustful gleam in his eyes each time his head was harshly pinned to the bed, sheets held in his teeth as to muffle his noises and moans. Recalling the brunette’s skin sheened over in perspiration was a task handled poorly by lord Kim. His hands fidgeted with the fabric of his overcoat as means of distraction.

The two man hadn’t been entangled for months and yet Hongjoong would fly to where he was in a second’s notice. Given the chance, Hongjoong would be knelt down before the man, fingers encasing his foot as a sign of respect and infatuation. Hongjoong would allow himself the surrender as his mouth left brazen kisses to Seonghwa’s feet, running up his strong legs. He would show him his pale, soft underbelly, expecting nothing in return. He would lay himself down for Seonghwa’s passing gaze.

Yunho observed the telling expression on his older company’s face. He was lost in his thoughts. In his own world of nothing but the lord Seonghwa and their expansive memories.

“Hongjoong,” Yunho began, voice low as not to attract the reign bearer’s attention even though he was far enough out of ear shot.

“Hm?” The older hummed quietly in acknowledgment. His eyes still never met his friend’s.

“All is well my friend. This isn’t unlike any other event.”

“I know that. But my heart still beats as if I’m racing.”Hongjoong settles into the plush of the carriage bench. He crossed one booted foot over the other, finger hooking under his chin as his as turned back to his friend. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss yourself, Hongjoong.” Yunho hummed lowly as they pulled into the lane, so densely polluted with other hierarchies and lords. Each and every one of them stood straight, hair set, eyes forwards, legs marching strongly towards the gates. A few servants stood watching and greeting as people filed into the hall, waiting his arrival. As his feet graced the pea gravel,Hongjoong could see him. He could sense him in a way. He could spot his expression from the upstairs window; the one he was sure was Seonghwa’s bed chamber, his eyes laying over the rush of comrades and well wishers. Through it all, Seonghwa was waiting to spot the certain young lord. He didn’t want to miss him in the slightest. He wanted to be there from the minute Hongjoong set foot in his estate. His mind had been consumed by memories and past statements between the two, eyes welling up each time he remembered their last meeting.

Seonghwa stepped back from the window, clutching his ascot to his chest as his heart slowed to an incomplete still. He missed Hongjoong, but he would have to deal with that later. There were other things that required his attention. “I’m ready.” Seonghwa says as he opens the heavy oaken door to his bed chamber, alerting his former wet nurse of his status. She looked him over with a wash of pride. Her stomach sank as she recounted how the time has flown since her lord Seonghwa was just a babe, suckling from her bossom. Now, he was an upstanding man, tall and handsome; and ready to take his rightful place at the head of his table. “You’re sure?” She takes his arm and follows the man down the hallway towards the grand staircase, both of them halting momentarily before they made their entrance. She would go ahead of him, taking her stand with the rest of the servants.

“I’m sure.” He assures her, trying to calm his own nerves in the process. He searched her eyes for any reasons to cling to his childhood, a sense of connection or at least one last plea from her lips for him to stay little. He wanted someone to miss his boyhood as much as he would; he wanted someone to hold on to it so he wouldn’t suffer in the shadow of it all on his own. The weight of age and the crushing pain of growth has been hanging tightly to him by his throat since his father had died, but he gulped back tears like a man would. He was facing his mother. He was facing his brothers and his clan beyond them. He faced his future.

Park Seonghwa faced Kim Hongjoong most importantly to him. As was proof, he was a leader placed perfectly at the top of his clan. He hoped Hongjoong would take his presence more seriously, and with more acceptance.

“Go and guide us all, dear.” His nurse says hushed as she stands over tiptoes and planted an encouraging kiss to his cheek. She takes his hands in her own and mulls over the size. He has grown well, and that’s all she could ask. He nods earnestly proceeding to let her go, watching her descend the staircase and take her place. Next was his turn, but this one was the descent of change. With a deep breath, Seonghwa stepped solo to his pre-rehearsed marker. “Ready?” A man signaled towards the young lord. He nodded with a deep, calming breath. This was it. This was everything.

“May I have the honor of presenting the forthcoming head of the illustrious Park Clan-“ A man vocalized, pushing Seonghwa’s fear to his feet. He looks to both his sides, taking in hand the symbolic relicts of their clan. A sword, symbol of peace through victory. A ruby ring, a symbol of tranquility through bloodline. His lip quivers slightly as the ring is placed on his finger; the very same one his father, and his father before him wore in their years reigning. He hoped, he prayed to be as good as they were, and that they would be guiding him from the world above.

“Park Seonghwa- Clan Leader.” The same man expressed as applause erupted from the audience all transfixed on Seonghwa as he stepped cautiously down the steps, facing his new family head on, hands gripped tightly, ring pushing into his palm. The swords bore heavy in his grasp, but no matter. He was struck by sudden empowerment seeing the faces of those there for him. They all came to see him succeed. They saw him through to his height. The sentiment truly touched him, tenderly brushing his cheeks with a smile and softly kissing at his heart. “For me?” Seonghwa whispered to himself. For him. Yes. Over the sea of excitement, he spots him. Kim Hongjoong. As beautiful as always.

After several rounds of congratulatory speeches and toasts, most everyone was dancing in drunken laughter. Seonghwa kept busy socializing with his clan, nursing a strong, sweet cocktail he had loved since his teenage years. It had become an iconic drink in the clan, known as Seonghwa’s Sangria and most of the clan had indulged in its flavor since.

“Well well well, if it isn’t,” Yunho begins as he bows clumsily before Seonghwa. “The clan leader.”

“It sure as hell is. Put some respect on my name now, Yunho!” Seonghwa laughs as he sends a teasing kick into Yunho’s backside. The men chuckle, chasing after each other for a moment before Seonghwa clears his throat in embarrassment. “C’mon Yunho. I’m a leader now. I can’t beat your ass like I used to.”

“Oh forgive me your highness.” Yunho sighs accompanied by a small smile.

“Are you switching up on us Seonghwa? Now that you’re the clan leader?”

Seonghwa stills, stomach dropping slightly at the sound of his voice. “No, Hongjoong. I’m simply trying to keep up my arbitrary reputation.” He turned to face the shorter, eyes finally meeting after months. Hongjoong. Oh Hongjoong.

Seonghwa wanted nothing more than to grab the man’s waist and pull him into a heated kiss filled with fervor and passion. The look in his eyes, the ceremonial robes, the set to his hair. Seonghwa was stone in action. Had he been in a private room, he would’ve dropped to his knees for forgiveness, begging and pleading with the younger for his affections. Seonghwa would’ve kissed the ground Hongjoong stood upon. The feelings were mutual between parties. As Seonghwa had spoke, Hongjoong too desired him deeply. He would forgo all of his manly pride and bath in the rich lather that was the clan leader’s presence. The scent of lavender emitting from his body like it usually did, his hands gripping tightly at his robe as he pounded the ground with apologies and desperate acts. Anything to bring Seonghwa back to him.

Hongjoong has been drowning in his own shame for the past weeks, trying to find a way to speak to Seonghwa without dropping to the floor in fits of tears. It had been clawing his pulse for days. He wanted the oldest to notice his plea and take his hands once again.

The music from the orchestra blared over any conversation that may have been had at the time, but it didn’t stop Hongjoong from whispering in the clan leader’s ear. “May I speak to you? Privately?” Seonghwa nods as the shorter grips his wrist, pulling him away from the crowd.

———-

The tip of Hongjoong’s already hard erection pushed past the tight ring of resistance, sending Seonghwa into a pained, but relieved frenzy. It had been too long since they had been like this, tangled up in secrecy as they shared breaths and words of affirmation pertaining to nothing in particular. The older’s back arched off of the wall, pressing his chest further into Hongjoong’s as the top thrusts upward into him fully. He had never felt so strangled but free in his life. His legs tightened around Joong’s waist, securing him to a safe trunk as he passed each inch in and out of the man, leaving them both messy in unison.

They had found a private conference room to which they could talk alone, only for them both to break and start tearing at their clothes. Seonghwa’s hands roamed the brunette’s back, feeling as the muscles rippled under skin, effective with each thrust into him. Seonghwa wouldn’t know what to do if anyone caught them in the act, but he was in too much of a heated, sexual state that he couldn’t bother caring.

“Joong-“ His moans were miss matched in tone, some loud while the others seemed aware of their surroundings. “Fuck, Joong-“ Hwa whimpers, suckling on a patch of skin just below Hongjoong’s ear, in hopes no one would notice it later. “Ah-Hwa! Don’t tease me. If you’re gonna suck anything-“

“Don’t say that- you’re already inside of me… so no.” Seonghwa griped as his nails dug crescents into Hongjoong’s shoulders, an expression of pained bliss coloring his face. “Prude.” Hongjoong whispers in a joking manner, aware that nothing about their relationship was prudish . They were as open minded as they came.

Seonghwa’s body tightened, constricting Hongjoong as he fucked into the older male, each and every curve and divot of the elder’s insides squeezing against his sensitive cock. He bullied harder into the ass, heavy testicles snapping against Seonghwa’s plump ass cheeks every once in a while. It was all in the reminder that he was his. He would be his forever. It worked both ways in this case.

“Please- forgive me my lord.” Hongjoong pressed his lips to Seonghwa’s cheek as he finally began pleading for the older’s forgiveness. This is what he wanted in the first place, to be reinstated on the side of Seonghwa’s good graces. “No please forgive me Hongjoong. It was all my fault.” Seonghwa’s words came out in breathy chunks as each syllable was punctuated with a thrust.

“No-no, was mine. I was a coward.” The younger buried a hand in Seonghwa’s long, onyx locks.

“No, I was irrational.” Seonghwa said quietly next to the man’s ear.

“All you wanted was for me to love you loudly.” Hongjoong spoke.

“But I completely disregarded your reputation.” Seonghwa said.

“What reputation? I am the blight on my family’s collar. No one would’ve batted an eye if I were to be seen with you. They would attribute everything to my status.” His movements were stilled as he cradled Seonghwa’s cheek in his hand. Their eyes fixed on one another, expressions of moroseness. “I love you dearly, Hwa. And I’m sorry I had hurt you so terribly.”

Seonghwa heaved deeply, pulling the shorter into a bone crushing hug, face buried deep in the crook of his neck.

From there, Hongjoong paced himself once again, hips colliding at a simpler, softer speed. Love filled his strokes as they passed on his apology, each and every move meaning something to the older. His intricately detailed body quivered as he was met with waves of sweet, sweet love making. He wasn’t sure if Hongjoong had ever been so gentle with him in all their time together.

Sweat beads from Hongjoong’s forehead, dropping on Seonghwa’s prominent cheekbone and fell like a tear of bliss. He was savoring the feeling for as long as he could because he was never quite sure when he would be able to keep Seonghwa this close again. His arms longed for him when he was away. His lips burned for their suppression kindled only in the clan leader’s. Every letter he wrote and signed off, every seminar he sat in on with his father, each and every step he took in pursuit of Seonghwa’s hand seemed all the more important to him, now that Seonghwa’s writhing body ached between him and the tapestry. Hongjoong noted how the older quivered as he sank a little further down his dick, the puckered muscle losing tension each time, only to gain it back when he slid out again. The sloppy way of devotion was their favorite and the most effective in times like these between them. The giving of each other’s bodies in a messy, wet complexion of limbs and moans. Hongjoong wished they were in a bedroom, railing mercilessly into a feather soft mattress, his hands gripped so tight to the clan leader’s hips that he could claim ownership later.

“Fuck-“ The second eldest grunts lowly into his ear, drawing a moan from the Clan leader’s mouth.

To be Continued….

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rowretro · 1 year ago

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✧𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓✧

WARNINGS:

✧tag list✧:@chlorinecake @nikisdubblchococake @enhypensccstarlight @strwberrydinosaur @sunghoonsbeautymark @strawbsj @who-tf-is-sodhi @addictedtohobi (pls tell me if i'm missing any tags)

✧CHAPTER 19✧

5 years have passed and those 5 years have been filled with more fights and drug cartels trying to attack the Nishimura family. Riki was trying to let go of the drug business, with his hands stained with so much blood and his family constantly being under attack. However, once you pick up a gun there’s no letting go of it. Kyle was now 10, still somewhat unaware of the drug business. Now he is 10, he does understand what’s good and bad, Which just makes Yeonjun’s job much easier.

“Well aren’t you a little cutie~” y/n cooed as Kyle sighed “Mom I’m not cute anymore- I’m literally the coolest kid in my school- stop emba-” he cut himself when he saw y/n go to Yeseol who was playing with her toys “what is my little expert doing today?” y/n asked as the girl smiled up at her “I’m making pasghetti!” She squealed, as Kyle frowned. “Awww pasghettti- you’re so cute~” Y/n cooed, cradling the 5 year old as she kisses her forehead. “Kyle, I packed your bag for football sweetie, daddy will drop you off kay?” the girl adds before heading to the kitchen.

Kyle walks over to Yeseol, his arms crossed as he stared down at her. “Want sum pasghetti?” the girl asked as the boy frowned “We all know you can say it! Even I could when I was 5” Kyle said as Yeseol pouted. “Kyle are you ready to go?” Riki asked as he grabs his keys. “Yeah- I’ll be in the car-” He said before running to the front seat. “Daddy!” Yeseol squealed, making grabby hands at Riki, smiling, he picked her up and twirled the little girl around. “Daddy will be back soon sweetie, go play with mommy for now~” Riki said, before placing a soft kiss on the little girl’s forehead.

“Mommy…. Happy buwfday!” the 5 year old said as she gave y/n a cute little drawing of the 4 of them, in pink, smiling, she picked up the girl, kissing her cheek, she sat on the sofa with Yeseol in her lap. “You drew this on yourself? No wayyy…. Daddy helped you didn’t he?” she playfully narrowed her eyes as the 5 year old started whining. “No no sweetie I’m joking, it’s just so beautiful~” she complimented, hugging her softly.

Meanwhile, Riki was driving Kyle to football. “Kyle, score some goals and come home a proud footballer, and don’t forget, have fun. It’s not all about winning” he pointed out as the boy shrugged “But you do know I will end up winning anyway right?” the boy asked as Riki snickered. Just as Riki was going to go in for a hug, Kyle held his hand up.

“We don’t hug we high five or fist bump.” He said as Riki rolled his eyes playfully. “Also please don’t tell mom about the lost sweater… she thinks it was stolen, and my pencil case, and my old glasses, and my-” “Kyle it’s ok- I won’t snitch on you for losing those things, as long as you back me up about that lost shirt, She got it for me on valentines day…” Riki trailed off as Kyle nodded, heading off to the pitch.

Riki bid him goodbye before driving home, the scene he was met with was already horrifying as is, smashed, gunshot windows. He didn’t bother parking in the garage, he left his vehicle and ran inside the building, feather stuffing from the pillows, smashed furniture, and trickles of blood. “y/n, Yeseol?! Please tell me you’re ok-” he called out, with hopes that none of them were hurt. To his luck he found them, in a corner, Yeseol safely hidden in y/n’s arms.

“Are they gone?” Y/n asked as Riki nodded, bending down to their level. God it was heartbreaking to see his 5 year old covering her ears, as she snuggled into y/n, the little girl probably confused about what was happening. Crying, she walked over to Riki, hugging him, the male carried her, gently rocking her and reassuring that everything was ok while Y/n just glared at him. She helped the maids around a little with the cleaning, as the windows get replaced by bulletproof ones, more than just one window on each windowspace.

Riki walked into the living room that evening, a first aid kit in his hand as he approached y/n. She had been ignoring him since the incident, her heart still pounding every time she thinks about Yeseol, or what could’ve happened if it wasn’t for her fast actions. “Show me.” he simply said as he opened the box, the girl frowned “What is there to show? I'm perfectly fine, no thanks to you.” She said as Riki sighed. “Honey, running your wounds under cold water won’t solve it. Just show me them please…” he asked as the girl did so.

There were no major wounds, just a few pretty deep cuts, a big one across her palm. Every little cut and drip of blood was a reminder that Riki was a danger to the woman he loves, and the kids he holds dearly to his heart. It fucking hurt his heart as he hear her soft hisses and whimpers from pain. Why was he like this? Why can’t he just stop? Wasn’t Kyle holding onto his dear life as a baby enough of a reminder. Running away from his gang life clearly put him in more danger, but embracing this life still puts his family in danger.

“I know you’re mad at me… but… I’m sorry, also Yeseol is in the garden” he said nonchalantly as y/n glared at him “YOU LET OUR 5 YEAR OLD IN THE GARDEN IN THIS DARK???” She asked, maddened, before running to open the door, as she did so, she froze in her step.

“Happy Birthday babe~” Riki said with a mischievous smile as he back-hugged her. Both kids were there with Heeseung, the boys, Riki’s parents. A beautiful birthday cake, and the most ethereal view she had ever seen, her eyes on the beautiful pink lanterns flying up, along with balloons. “God I hate that I can’t stay mad at you” she pouted as Riki kissed her nose.

✧𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓✧

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afterdarkprincess · 1 year ago

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Pretty In Pink- An Aftershocks Side Story

Relationship: Sami/Jey Rating: Explicit Summary: On a brief vacation from shows, Sami comes home to find his boyfriend all dressed up and waiting for him. ----- Aftershocks side story, but can be read alone! It's just pure filth honestly :)

This fic is Explict and contains: Daddy Kink, Feminization, Lingerie, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Spanking tags for: @feelschicken @imabillyami @elementaldoughnut12 @harmshake @southerngirl41 and @jeysbvck! 💖✨ (If anyone else would like a tag in my Samijey fics let me know!) AO3 Link

Sami’s stomach fluttered with nervous butterflies, excited yet anxious about how this evening will go.

They’re in Montreal, it’s late fall and the air is crisp and chilly. Both of them are on a short break from shows right now, and they’re taking full advantage of the time in Sami’s cozy apartment rather than hotel rooms.

It’s been a few months since that tumultuous night after Summerslam, and Sami and Jey have become even closer than they were before. Jey making the jump to the Raw roster certainly helped, but every moment they didn’t have other obligations they were inseparable.

They’d been planning for this mini break over the last few weeks, and Sami is obviously excited for their evening, but more than anything he’s just happy to spend some uninterrupted time with Jey.

Sami enters the apartment, taking off his coat and hanging it on the rack. He hears soft music distantly from the direction of the bedroom, but otherwise it’s quiet with no sign of his boyfriend.

“Jey? Where are you honey?” Sami calls, poking his head into the living room and kitchen to find nothing. He figures Jey must be in his bedroom, theirs now, and heads back the hallway to find the door slightly ajar. He opens the door slowly, cautious if perhaps Jey fell asleep, but that’s definitely not the case.

Inside he finds Jey on the bed splayed out against the sheets. He’s dressed in lingerie, baby pink playing against his deeply tanned skin and the dark ink of his tattoos. His pecs are held by a frilly pink tulle bra that matches the panties that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, his hard dick straining against the material and staining it with his precum. There’s a matching garter belt around his waist, connecting to pink stockings that end at his mid-thigh, almost exactly where his leg tattoos start.

Jey’s lips are shiny with thick pink gloss and his already long eyelashes are accentuated with mascara. His face is relaxed, head thrown back against the pillows and Sami feels his dick fill at the sight of him.

He looks so soft and pretty in all that pink, but as Sami makes his way inside the room his eyes are drawn to the pink bejeweled plug that hums from between Jey’s thighs, disappearing into his glistening hole just visible beneath the mesh of the panties.

“You started without me?” Sami asks. “Baby, you know what that means.”

Jey looks up from the bed. “Couldn’t help it, Daddy. Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Sami drops a kiss to the top of Jey’s head, running his hands along the soft exposed skin of Jey’s arms, following the lines of his tattoos. “But I still have to punish you, sweetheart.”

Jey pouts, batting his eyelashes as he grinds his hips down, jostling the plug inside him. “C’mon, that ain’t fair.”

Sami fixes him with a look, grabbing him by the thighs and tugging him to the edge of the bed so their hips are flush.

“You wanna try that again?”

Jey blushes furiously. “Sorry, Daddy. M’ready for it.”

“Flip over,” Sami instructs, rubbing his hands together to warm them as Jey moves onto his stomach, his feet dangling off and barely brushing the floor. His eyes drink in the sight of Jey’s thick juicy ass just barely contained in his pink panties, the plug just peeking out between his cheeks.

Sami pulls the panties aside and gently removes the plug, watching in rapt fascination as Jey’s hole stretches and winks shut again. He’s tempted to forgo the punishment and just plunge into that sweet tight heat, but he has to follow through. He runs his hands across the fabric of the panties before pulling the waistband down to expose Jey’s cheeks to the air.

“Count for me baby,” Sami runs his hands over the exposed skin, keeping Jey tense with anticipation.

Jey’s head lolls on the sheets and Sami gives him a quick smack to start, easing him into it.

“One,” Jey groans.

Sami pulls his hand back further this time, striking the other cheek with more force.

“Two,”

He alternates back, hitting the same spot as before.

“Hnnn… Three,” Jey’s legs shake.

Sami continues the next few in short succession, moving between the left and right cheek until both are flushed dark and Jey’s breathing heavily.

“Ah, Ah, Ten. Fuck, Sami please-“ Jey bites around his thumb and Sami can’t let that slide.

“I was going to stop there until you hid those pretty noises from me, five more and we’ll be done.”

Jey nods into the sheets and Sami gives him a quick soothing rub over both cheeks before doling out the rest of his punishment.

“F-fifteen,” Jey sobs through the last count, tears fully flowing down his cheeks.

Sami’s anxiety overtakes his mind, “Jey, color?”

Jey doesn’t respond for a moment and dread fills Sami’s stomach that perhaps he’s pushed him too far, but finally he exhales and replies, “Green.”

“Good Job, sweetheart. You did so well,” Sami feels relief flood through him and he presses soft kisses against Jey’s reddened skin, pulling the panties down and completely off of him. “Such a good girl for me, Jey. Look so pretty all dressed up.”

Sami helps Jey roll over, exposing his flushed and tear stained face. He kisses the tear tracks reverently, holding Jey’s cheek and neck securely to soothe him.

Jey tries to catch his breath, and Sami breathes with him slowly to help him relax. After a few moments, Jey’s brain comes back online. “Did I- do good, Sami?” His eyes are pleading and eager and Sami feels the length of Jey’s dick, still hard despite the rough treatment.

“Mhm, you did so good for Daddy. Gonna give you your reward now for being so good, give you a treat.” Sami kisses him again, getting some of the pink lipstick on his own lips before he moves to kneel on the bed.

Sami moves Jey’s legs with ease, fitting himself between them before folding Jey in half and resting his ankles on Sami’s own shoulders. He pushes the waistband of his pants down, freeing his length to smack against Jey’s inner thigh and causing the younger man to moan wantonly.

“So empty, please Daddy,” Jey sighs, shifting his hips and trying to get closer to the warmth of Sami’s erection.

Sami tuts, “Patience love,” as he takes one hand down to Jey’s waiting hole. He’s still open slightly from the plug and Sami sinks his thumb in with no resistance, the digit embraced by Jey’s wet warmth. Sami moves his thumb inside slowly, gently messaging the muscles and coaxing them to relax further.

Jey whines at the onslaught, the contact thats good but not quite enough. Before long Sami trades the thumb for his pointer and middle fingers, pressing in and watching as Jey swallows them up with ease. Once inside, buried in one long press, he again takes his time. Moving the fingers together slowly, flexing and undulating them together, rubbing against Jey’s sensitive spot relentlessly causing his cockhead to drool with precum, further ruining the pink tulle panties barely containing him.

With Sami’s free hand he runs his fingertips along the pink lace stockings, admiring how they look against Jey’s skin and tattoos. “So soft and pretty for me baby, look at you taking me so good.” Jey bites his lip and Sami can’t have that. “Jey, tell me how it feels sweetheart. Tell Daddy how much you like his fingers in your pussy.”

“Ah, ah, so-,” Jey’s head falls back against the sheets, undone by Sami’s words and the feel of him inside. “Feels so good, Daddy. F-fuck.”

Sami presses hard, rubbing circles into Jey’s prostate and drinking in his cries before slipping a third finger inside. His other hand ghosts over the strained panties, just barely touching with his fingertips over Jey’s neglected dick.

“M’ready- Sami please-“ Jey gasps out, unable to contain himself.

Sami shakes his head, “Now you know that’s not gonna cut it, sweetheart. You gotta ask Daddy for what you want.”

Jey turns his head, shy and trying to avoid the situation. “W-want you to fuck me.”

The words are quiet, mumbled and rushed, not remotely what he was looking for. Sami removes his fingers from Jey’s hole and withdraws his fingertips from the sheer pink fabric.

“Not quite princess, try again,”

“But Daddy-“ Jey whines, but he’s cut off by a loud smack to his ass.

“Again, Jey,” Sami prompts, tone leaving no room for argument as tears well in Jey’s eyes again.

That sinking feeling creeps in Sami’s stomach again, and he nearly asks Jey for a color.

He’s interrupted as Jey sniffles, staring up at him like a lost puppy. “D-daddy, will you fuck me?”

Sami smiles, “Fuck your what, baby?”

Jey’s cheeks darken with blush, “My pussy.” Sami raises an eyebrow. “Please- please daddy fuck my pussy.” Jey stammers out before Sami corrects him.

“Of course,” Sami bends down, capturing Jey’s lips in a heated kiss, his dick brushing against Jey’s wet, twitching hole. His hips buck, trying to angle towards the head of Sami’s dick. Sami chuckles as he pulls back. “Just a second sweetheart.” He reaches down and lines himself up with Jey, pressing just slightly, not enough to fully enter yet.

With his free hand he hooks a thumb into the waistband of Jey’s panties, dragging them down and tucking them under Jey’s heavy balls to leave his hard dick exposed to the air. Sami strokes it lightly just a few times, letting the anticipation build.

He finally sinks into Jey with no warning, burying himself in that delicious tight heat in one quick thrust. Sami paused, afraid that he might bust too soon between how long he’d been teasing Jey and how good he felt wrapped around him, his inner walls working on Sami’s dick.

Jey cries out, a jumbled mix of words and groans and sighs as he is finally filled the way he’s craved all evening. Sami feels so big inside of him, despite all the stretching and the plug, and Jey wouldn’t want it any other way.

Sami sets a slow pace, just rocking into Jey and enjoying the sweet friction as his head drags over Jey’s prostate on each pass.

Jey keeps his eyes on Sami, his pretty pink lips open as he breathes through the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him. He’s been hard for what feels like hours and he’s already close to the edge of orgasm.

“S-Daddy?” Jey’s voice shakes. “I’m close, please.”

Sami shakes his head, “Not yet baby, wait until I say.”

Jey feels more tears fall from his eyes, but as impossible as it seems he wants to be good for Sami. He nods.

Sami’s pace quickens a bit and their hips slam together, rocking the bed frame into the wall with hard thuds.

Jey’s hands clench into the sheets, looking for something to ground him. Sami notices and threads their fingers together with one hand while he holds Jey’s hip in the other. Sami pulls Jey down onto his dick just a much as he’s snapping his hips and driving his dick into that tight wet hole.

“Okay,” Sami grits out, the hot coil in his stomach about to burst, “Go ahead, baby girl. You can come.”

Jey explodes, his dick shooting thick ropes of cum onto his stomach. His inner walls convulse, clenching tight around Sami’s girth inside him.

Sami’s close himself in the hot vice grip of Jey’s body, his hips hammering in faster as he chases his release. “Gonna cum inside of you, gonna knock you up.”

“Yeah?” Jey breathes out, eyes wide and glossed over with pleasure.

“Mhm,” Sami nods just as he hits the edge, driving his cock in deep. “Fuck, Jey, baby ah-“ The force of his orgasm cuts off his mumbling.

Jey feels it inside of him, the way Sami’s dick twitches and spurts his hot cum deep, filling him up with warmth. He feels satisfaction wash over him, and for just a moment he imagines that Sami could really get him pregnant fucking him like this.

If there were any way for his dick to get hard again, he would.

Sami sighs, content and boneless but unwilling to leave the warmth of Jey’s body. The rational part of his brain knows he needs to start aftercare sooner rather than later, and the last thing he wants to do is let Jey drop.

He pulls out slowly and carefully, watching intently as Jey’s hole twitches and a glob of cum leaks out behind him. Sami’s instinct is to push it back inside, keep his baby bred full, but the scene is over, they can talk about it for next time.

Sami presses a quick kiss to Jey’s knee, mumbling a quick, “Be right back,” before heading into the ensuite bathroom to wet a towel. He returns quickly with a wet town and a dry one, as well as Jey’s fluffy robe.

“C’mere sweetie,” Sami says, taking hold of Jey’s hand where it’s flopped onto the bedsheets, his boyfriend fully melted into the mattress.

Jey moves with a small noise of protest and Sami makes quick work of cleaning him, running the cloth over his stomach before nudging his thighs open again to clean the mess he left of Jey’s hole.

As he gently wipes with the cloth, he coos, “Jey you did so well honey.” He moves Jey’s legs again and helps him sit up on the bed. Somehow he looks even cuter than before with messed up makeup, lingerie askew and his sleepy eyes. “Was that good? Everything you hoped for?” Sami’s anxiety creeps back in with how quiet his boyfriend is.

Jey smiles though and nods, “It was so good, boo. Damn near knocked me out there.”

Sami leaned in and kissed his forehead. “Good, lets get this off of you, hm?”

Jey nods again, allowing Sami to move his arms and maneuver the lace bra up and over his head. Sami drops the garment to the floor and helps Jey to stand.

The garter and panties of the set are undoubtedly ruined, sticky and stained with cum as they are, but Sami gently unclips the stockings from the garter and first pulls down the stockings, lovingly massaging Jey’s thighs and calves as he goes.

Jey groans appreciatively at the feeling on his sore muscles and steps out when Sami directs him to. Next come the panties, and he feels so much better now with them off, despite how cute they looked on. The garter belt comes off last and Jey is fully nude.

Sami stands, grabbing the robe again as he rises, but before he can offer it to Jey, his lovers arms wrap around his neck and pull him in close for a sweet brush of lips.

“Thank you, Sami.” Jey pecks him again. “I really mean it, that was perfect.”

Sami nods, wrapping his arms around Jey’s waist, “Love you so much, baby.”

Jey looks at him, the man who’s become his whole world, “Love you too.”

Sami wraps him up in the robe and settles Jey back into bed before yanking his own clothes off to join him under the covers, holding Jey in his arms before they finally both drift off to sleep.

___

Thank you for reading!! More fics coming soon :)

#samijey #sami x jey #sami zayn #jey uso #wwe fanfiction #jeysami

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