#opulence starter

[nicholasbaudelaire]

Morning jaunt

Open starter

Time: Early morning

Location: Anywhere within reasonable walking distance of Descartes and town

By 08:00 that Nicholas had already been up for the better part of three hours. The thirty-year-old wolf had returned home late the night before after an almost yearlong sabbatical in Europe. He had given up on any notion of sleep after only a couple of hours tossing and turning, and then spent the early hours of the morning unpacking his belongings, restocking his wardrobes with clothes and accessories. His attention to detail, hoovering the insides of his suitcases, polishing his shoes, steaming shirts and trousers, hanging them up directly, was bordering on compulsive when the sight of a small white skirt fallen at the back of his closet, brought the wolf to an immediate halt.

With a composed and restrained click of the closing closet doors, Nick quickly exited his bedroom, bed made, bedside cabinets empty of the usual knick knacks that made the room appear lived in. The entire apartment looked like a display room, nicely styled, but too tidy. Nicholas had no doubt that the place would soon fall into disarray much to the chagrin of his housekeeper, but for the time being, while the sun was still low in the sky, he felt compelled to preserve it’s temporary, alien cleanliness.  

Though Nick’s usual 4x4 sat in the building’s parking lot, available for him to use, Nick chose instead to walk into town. It was early, the sun was still lazy in it’s ascent, and the warm beams of light gleamed on the edge of the wolf’s lashes. Nicholas inhaled deeply, tossing a few stray ringlets away from his baby blue eyes irritably. The family barbeque he planned to attend later that day seemed lightyears away and Nick was restless. The bulging muscles in his body rippled with desire to tear and stretch and reform into his canine form, but the man was as always comfortably in control of his wolf, the animal in him that he was so proud of. Still, Nick began to test the ache in his muscles, seriously considering shifting when a breeze brought with it, the scent of another.

Nicholas turned slowly in anticipation, baby blues squinting to see the figure so brightly lit up by the lazy sun.

[adelitaflores]

Partners in faux romance

Starter @thad-spaulding

When: 19:00

Where: Outside Thaddeus’s place

Inviting Thaddeus to be her dinner companion had been a last minute plan, after it was suggested to Adelita, that her lack of love life was beginning to inspire whispers once again. Adelita had been a single since the beginning over her reign as Priestess almost thirteen years prior. She had made an effort to date regularly, all of her dates being handsome and having a sterling reputation in town, but none had stuck. Adelita’s love was her coven; dating as a mere inconvenience. It wasn’t like Adelita didn’t have needs... but the last time she had acted on those urges, well she had suffered consequences harsh enough to put anyone off dating. But it was time. Adelita knew it, and apparently so did other people.

Thaddeus’s and Adelita’s date a year ago had been pleasant enough, he was handsome and seemed a genuinely good guy, but it had lacked... chemistry. This wasn’t off putting to the woman who dated more for show than much else, but with the mist and everything else, Adelita had sort of... fallen out of contact with him, and Thaddeus hadn’t seemed especially keen to pursue further contact either. Still, he was available and had said yes, so Adelita was confident that the date would go well. 

That evening, Adelita wore a simple, rich navy blue one shouldered, floor length gown. On her feet she wore matching satin pointed shoes with stiletto heel, back bow detailing and ankle strap fastening. For jewellery she still wore her Helka’s Own ring, a simple diamond bracelet and studs in her ears. The dark curls were secured into a sleek, ornate bun at the back of her head. It was a simple yet expensive outfit, selected for it’s simplicity, relying on the shape of her willowy figure for aesthetic. She of course knew Thaddeus would be dressed in a way that coordinated with her outfit, and if by chance the man did go off script... well, in truth she had left a couple of tie options and cuff links with her driver... just in case. 

As the long dark car pulled up outside Thaddeus’s home, and one of her guards slipped out the front to go and strode up to the front door and knocked. Adelita herself remained inside the car, speaking softly to one of her advisors on one phone, while texting at the same time on another. Despite her beautiful evening attire, from the stern expression, she looked more like she was working, than excited to attend a dinner party in her free time. 

[callie-everest]

STARTER: Corey & Callie LOCATION: Pet Shelter STATUS: CLOSED

After a long night of little sleep trying to get Matthew to relax, Callie had woken up to a disgruntled and anxious man who was eager to get back to hospital. She’d forced him to sit and have some cereal, but he hadn’t lasted long before darting back off to see Yash, and so she’d let him go reluctantly, knowing he wouldn’t relax until he was back by his friend’s side. Callie was worried too, but she knew too many people crowding around Yash’s bed wouldn’t be good, and so she wanted to leave space for her closest friends to visit instead.

After feeding Chuck and taking him for a quick walk, she’d gathered her things and headed to the pet shelter. Despite all the uncertainty and the weakness the supernaturals around her were feeling, she had an appointment to pick up her new puppy. Now that she knew her friends were safe, she felt okay to go and collect Matilda. She was filled with nervous, excited energy as she pulled in and headed through the front doors, asking for Doctor Corey before taking her seat, foot tapping with anticipation. 

@magicvet 

[thalia-stone]

STARTER: Jean-Claude & Thalia LOCATION: Jean-Claude’s apartment STATUS: CLOSED

It had been a few months since Thalia had seen Jean-Claude, before Christmas in fact, and she was worried. They always kept in pretty close contact and it wasn’t a good sign that he had gone quiet on her. She knew that something had happened with that werewolf girl he’d been sleeping with, although she didn’t know the details. Thalia had never understood their relationship, and she herself couldn’t stand the smell of wolves in general so couldn’t imagine hanging out with one for a prolonged amount of time let alone sleep with one. She wasn’t one to judge though, and for the most part she seemed to make him happy so Thalia kept quiet about it all.

Now though, she wanted to see him, wanted to make sure with her own eyes that he was okay. So here she was, outside his apartment wearing bike shorts and an oversized flannel shirt, banging on his door. “Jean-Claude. Let me in. It’s Thalia. Fuck’s sake dude let me in, I’m fucking worried about you,” she yelled, fist hammering against the old wood of the door. 

@duderosiers​

[roseayres]

— open starter .

rose is not new to being a stranger. she has been the newcomer in many a place around the world, but when she arrives to this special little town she hopes to call home for some time, she feels like the young woman she once was, getting away from all she has ever known because she no longer wants to live with the taunting reminders of her past.

but opulence is not london and she is no longer a fledling vampire trailing behind a figure larger than her as a shadow. in fact, she does not think she ever was suited for that role. rather, it was thrown at her, with her, in her grief, sadness and confusion, being forced to pick it up for a brief time. this rose, however, excited at the prospect of a new place with new people and new ways to feel alive, is the real her. that's what she likes to think.

when she officially moves in to opulence, it is already past midnight. the sunglasses she was wearing around dusk fashionably placed on her head, the woman takes in everything around her as she roams the streets to get a good feel of the town. she has first located where her flat is in order to have somewhere to crash when she feels the tiredness set in—some things, like her sense of direction, don't seem to improve with time.

walking from the peaceful looking bowden to descray and finding herself in south opulence, her first impressions certainly include surprise at finding an active night life in a small town the likes of which she is more used at the bigger, crowded, more anonymous cities of the world. since she knows the reason behind it being the uniqueness of the place, its actual welcome of those like her rather than the blissful ignorance of other places makes her feel hopeful at the prospect of belonging there.

after hours of being both the tourist and the tourist guide, to conclude her first night in her new home, rose enters into one of the pubs sprinkled along the streets of south opulence to treat herself to a drink she can have by her side as she enjoys the atmopshere.

the pub is not so very crowded, but neither does it have the desertedness of one about to close. still with the empty tables in sight, when she hears someone settle into the bar stool next to her not long after her aperol spritz has arrived, she takes it as a sign that the stranger chose to sit there and turns her head to nod at them with a smile as a greeting.

[fionnchristie]

for: @elora-opulence

location: outside fionn’s apartment, descray

He’d thought he was being so cute, so funny, begging her to come back in that way - and in Fionn’s mind it had been an emergency, he’d missed her so much, needed to see her. It was only now, as he opened the door ecstatically only to be faced with Elora’s concerned expression that it began to dawn on Fionn that it might not have been the correct way to behave after all.

For a moment, he even considered feigning a cough or a wheeze and acting like he’d been telling the truth, but Fionn had never been good at acting, and besides he smelled an awful lot like weed and cigarettes which he suspected would lead to a discussion regardless about his habits versus their effects on his health. Instead he was made to push through with the original idea, and to be fair that was easy as a smile had appeared on his face almost as soon as he saw her, widening across his cheeks - he was happy to see her, no matter the situation. “Hey.”

[cass-evans]

for: @elora-opulence

location: cass’ apartment, descray

It was easy to tidy up if you’d never decorated much to begin with, he had learned. Cass didn’t often have people round, though. Theo had been allowed in, once or twice. Ryden, when he’d let himself in to deal with an unwell Cass who had refused help that came in any way but forcibly. But for the most part, the boxy apartment remained scarce. Good enough for him, if not visitor appropriate. The bedroom was empty but for the closet that had came with the place; he slept on the beaten up sofa in the living room, blanket and pillow folded neatly on top of it rather than strewn around like they normally would be. The kitchen was barely touched - if he was being honest he rarely cooked anymore, was often too fucked or simply too tired to remember, but he’d had to bother today after offering. Typical of Cass, to make promises he then struggled to fulfil.

He could cook though, luckily, even if he often chose not to. He was nearly done stirring the sauce through the pasta - penne alla vodka, thankfully simple lest he go too adventurous and fuck it up the one time he had a guest - when he heard the knock on the door and made his way to the front door, leaning in the doorway as if to block the view of the inside of the apartment even though Elora would soon enough come in. “I didn’t think you’d actually come,” Cass admitted quietly, as he stepped back to allow her in.

[harmonyfell]

one-liner call! this will have limited formatting bc mobile. specify the muse for multis, and specify the verse if applicable!!!!

verses available: canon, oshi no ko, fallen angel (modern), genshin, && little goody two shoes!!

[the-oracleof-delphi]

PAC: How Would a Tarot Reader Describe YOU to THEM?

Pile One - Pressed Blue Flowers

:: Pile one, a tarot reader might tell your person that you are someone who has a lot of resilience, self-control and inner strength.

:: There are times you struggle with self-limiting thoughts. But you possess the strength to overcome them as well.

:: You do not let outside opinion get the better of you.

:: You are emotional and not ashamed of being seen as one. You are someone intuitive and in sync with your emotions.

:: You may like to have a good time with your friends. You may have two close friends you like to hang out with? Perhaps catch up over a few drinks?

:: You are not someone who tolerates nonsense, in spite of your emotional nature. You do not think twice before severing ties with people who are pulling you down.

:: You may be in your masculine energy right now. It seems you are trying to protect your heart. You may come across as cold and calculating at this time.

:: Energy - Air and Fire.

Pile Two - Blue Seashell Teapot

:: Pile two, a tarot reader would tell your person you are someone who is very regal, well-dressed - someone who likes to splurge, like to buy new shoes?

:: You are private. Someone others tip-toe around for some reason? You may also be in the position of authority, because I see people respect and look up to you. If not, you are someone who exudes an air of authority.

:: You are just and loyal, maybe someone obsessed with doing the right thing.

:: You stand on your business, you are extremely resolute. Once you make up your mind, there is no changing it.

:: You are hard-working. Currently very career focused. If you are a student, maybe your goal is to reach the top of your field - get a PhD perhaps?

:: You are a starter - you take the first step. You maybe starting or hoping to start on a new venture - business, school, etc.

:: You may be their partner - in love and/or business :)

:: Energy - Mostly Fire with a hint of Air and Earth.

Pile Three - Pressed Single Blue Flower

:: Pile three, a tarot reader would tell your person that you are resourceful and highly intuitive. You are abundant materially or working very hard towards it.

:: Whatever you touch turns to gold. You are destined to live a life of opulence.

:: You are financially responsible. I see someone putting down money for emergencies.

:: You are nurturing and may hope to have a family someday. But you may hide that side of your self?

:: I also see someone suffering from compassion fatigue. Someone who has distanced themselves from the people around them because they are tired.

:: You may suffer from self-limiting beliefs at times. I see depressive episodes and feelings of isolation. You maybe someone who self-isolates when they are upset.

:: Sometimes you may cater to others' emotional needs but forget to look after yourself. Alternatively, you may suffer from tunnel vision, pour everything into one aspect of your life and neglect the rest.

:: Energy - Earth, Air, and Water.

Credits: Icons - @/pngsforthepeople on tumblr divider- @/saradika-graphics on tumblr.

[enhastars]

THE RED ROOM જ⁀➴  CHAPTER TWO

AT THE RESTAURANT, OCT 13TH

Y/N hadn’t expected to see so many people in line, waiting to dine in for breakfast when she arrived at the restaurant the next morning. She had barely slept the night before, her nerves keeping her awake, and even now her palms were slick with sweat. She wiped them hastily on her dress shirt before walking past the waiting crowd, a growing sense of existential dread tightening in her stomach. With how out of it she’d been last night, she hadn’t considered that her new coworkers might not like her. What if they tried to get her fired?

No, that was ridiculous. This was her first job, after all—surely they’d take pity on her.

Most of the people in the lobby bustling around seemed like ordinary travelers, much like herself. Suitcases clustered near the glass revolving doors, and sunburned children darted between harried parents. Y/N had arrived surprisingly early, a small victory considering she was running on four hours of sleep and two shots of espresso. The wealthy guests probably attended evening events; no one here seemed particularly out of the ordinary.

She shuddered at the thought of serving those intimidating people, though she wasn’t planning to be the center of attention—like a host might be.

Before she could step into the dining area, a stranger stopped her and smiled.

"Hey! You must be the new starter?"

Y/N blinked, momentarily startled by the voice cutting through her thoughts. The man standing before her had a kind smile, the sort that seemed to radiate warmth. It caught her off guard, making her wonder if she was just imagining the friendliness. Maybe it was her nerves playing tricks on her again.

His neatly parted black hair gleamed under the kitchen's fluorescent lights, and his brown eyes had a soft, almost feline-like quality. She felt her pulse quicken—how was everyone here so intimidatingly put together?

"That’s me," Y/N replied, willing her voice to stay steady. She forced a small smile, hoping it hid how overwhelmed she felt.

“Nice to meet you. It’s been a while since we got a new addition to the crew—especially a girl.”

The man’s voice was light yet confident, as if he was used to welcoming newcomers like her. Y/N’s gaze flicked to the polished name tag pinned neatly to his shirt: Yang. Family name, she noted.

“Thank you, Mr. Yang,” she replied, forcing her voice to steady despite the faint waver she could hear.

For a second, his expression froze in mild surprise, as though he wasn’t accustomed to such formality. Then his lips quirked into an amused grin, and he rubbed his forehead with his palm.

“Just Jungwon is fine,” he said with a short laugh. “We’re probably around the same age anyway.”

Jungwon extended his hand, and Y/N hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it. His grip was firm, his fingers rough and calloused—an undeniable testament to long hours spent in a demanding industry. Despite his easy demeanor, the handshake reminded her that this man wasn’t someone to underestimate.

“Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. It’s really early,” he added with a slightly sheepish tilt of his head.

Y/N managed a small smile as he handed her the menu he’d been holding. She almost stumbled under its weight; it was larger than she’d anticipated, bound with a thick black fabric that was soft but sturdy. Gold letters gleamed under the overhead lights, spelling out God's Menu in elegant script. The name piqued her curiosity, but she tucked the thought away for later.

“Come on, let’s introduce you to the rest of the crew,” Jungwon said, motioning for her to follow. He adjusted a gold-encrusted belt over his apron with a practiced motion before heading toward the dining area.

As Y/N trailed after him, she found herself taking in the grandeur of her surroundings. The dining room was more opulent than anything she’d ever seen—like something pulled straight from a period drama. Ornate chandeliers hung from the soaring ceilings, their golden light casting a warm glow across the room. Maroon curtains framed every window, their thick folds cascading down to the floor like velvet waterfalls. Towering black marble columns lined the space, their glossy surfaces so polished they reflected the chandeliers’ light.

She trailed her fingers along the edge of a nearby table as they passed, the linen smooth and cool beneath her touch. Across the room, a stage loomed in the distance, its polished wood floor gleaming under subtle spotlights. She could almost imagine it coming alive during an evening performance, filled with laughter or music.

It was breathtaking—every detail deliberate yet effortless.

Y/N’s stomach fluttered as she adjusted the menu in her hands, trying to steady her breathing. How could she possibly fit in here?

“Sunoo, for the last time, I’m not doing that!”

The sudden shout jolted Y/N from her thoughts. She flinched, the clang of metal ringing out a moment later. Her eyes darted toward Jungwon, who didn’t so much as bat an eye. He pushed open a set of heavy steel doors leading into the kitchen.

“Listen, I’m just spitballing here!” a voice whined as they stepped inside.

Y/N blinked, her eyes widening at the chaos unfolding before her. A blonde man—presumably Sunoo—was practically dancing out of the way of a ladle hurtling through the air. The weapon’s sender stood across the kitchen island: a man with crimson-colored hair and piercing eyes. Even from a distance, his sharp gaze made her want to shrink into herself.

The two men were dressed in aprons, but each was unique—Sunoo’s was embroidered with intricate floral patterns, while the other’s bore minimalist geometric shapes. As Y/N glanced around, she noticed no two uniforms looked alike. It was a small detail, but it only added to the surreal atmosphere of the place.

“What the hell is going on here?” Jungwon demanded, exasperation heavy in his tone.

“Wonnie, Heeseung’s being an asshole!” Sunoo called out, his voice dripping with mock indignation.

“Can you tell this son of a bitch to mind his own business?” Heeseung retorted, rolling his eyes.

Sunoo gasped, his expression the picture of betrayal, before reaching for a stray chopstick to retaliate.

“Woah, woah, calm down,” Jungwon interrupted, snatching the chopstick out of Sunoo’s hand before it could escalate further. “You guys are making this place look like a zoo in front of the poor new girl.”

At Jungown’s words, both Sunoo and Heeseung froze mid-motion, their eyes snapping toward Y/N. They looked at her incredulously, as if they hadn't seen a woman in years.

Her stomach churned under their stares. She clutched the menu a little tighter, suddenly feeling like the spotlight was burning too brightly on her.

“This is all Heeseung’s fault!” Sunoo exclaimed, his grin returning as he strode toward her. The warmth in his expression was almost blinding, and Y/N swore for a moment she was staring into the sun itself. Did everyone here have such radiant smiles?

“Y/N, right? The boss told me about you,” Sunoo said.

His voice was lighter than she’d expected, catching her off guard. Freckles dusted his face, and dimples appeared as he smiled. There was an effortless charm about him that made Y/N’s nerves simmer down, if only slightly.

“Don’t listen to him; he’s the real devil,” Heeseung cut in, his smirk sharp and teasing.

Y/N offered a polite laugh, though her gaze stayed locked on Sunoo, unwilling to meet Heeseung’s eyes. Something about his presence made her skin prickle, like a predator sizing up its prey.

“What's her position?” Sunoo asked, tilting his head toward Jungwon.

“No idea. Boss didn’t tell me.” He shrugged, wiping a cleaver clean. 

“General manager, huh? Real thorough,” Sunoo teased, earning yet another tired glare from Jungwon.

Narrowing his eyes, he started twirling a knife in his fingers with a precision that was both impressive and mildly intimidating. For a moment, Y/N thought he might actually throw it. Instead, Sunoo blew him a raspberry, hopping away toward the ovens with the carefree energy of a child.

“He’s like a child,” Y/N muttered under her breath, intending it only for herself.

Heeseung, however, caught it. His sharp, slanted eyes eyes locked onto hers with unsettling accuracy.

“He’s immature, sure,” Heeseung said, pulling on a pair of plastic gloves with deliberate slowness, “but he’s got a pure soul.” He leaned back against the counter behind him, crossing one leg over the other in a way that seemed too casual to be uncalculated. “That’s his best quality. Don’t think too lowly of him.”

Heeseung’s gaze remained fixed on her, drilling into her as if he were daring her to disagree. Y/N swallowed hard, offering a small nod before looking anywhere but at him. A few minutes ago, Heeseung had been arguing with Sunoo; now he sounded almost protective. The sudden shift in mood was disorienting.

“Dude, leave her alone. You’re scaring her,” Jungwon said with a roll of his eyes, his arms crossed in an authoritative, almost sassy stance.

“Nonsense,” Heeseung replied smoothly, slipping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders before she could react. Her entire body stiffened at the unexpected contact. “We’re already friends, aren’t we?”

Y/N blinked up at him, utterly dumbfounded, but managed a noncommittal hum of agreement. This guy was so strange. Almost as strange as Park Sunghoon from last night.

“Yeah, totally,” she mumbled, grimacing when Heeseung gave her back a hearty pat, seemingly satisfied.

“I’m not sure what position you’ll fill,” Heeseung said, stepping back and adjusting his gloves. “But I’m the Executive Chef here. What I say, goes.”

Y/N gave a small nod. Truthfully, she had no idea what position she was supposed to take either. She’d applied on a whim and somehow ended up here. What would Sunghoon assign her to do? She tried not to think about it, but “janitor” seemed like the most realistic option.

“Jungwon over here is the general manager, which means he always has a stick up his ass,” Heeseung added with a smirk.

Y/N had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Despite his unnerving demeanor, Heeseung was undeniably funny.

“That’s enough,” Jungwon said with an exaggerated sigh, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward, betraying his amusement.

“Yeah, Jungwon, you really need to get laid!” Sunoo’s voice rang out from across the kitchen, loud and unapologetic.

Y/N couldn’t hold it in this time—she laughed, a genuine, bright sound that echoed in the chaotic kitchen. It caught everyone’s attention. Sunoo, Heeseung, and Jungwon all turned to her, their surprise evident.

Jungwon recovered first, pointing a finger at Sunoo. “I’m so going to get you for that,” he threatened, though his tone lacked any real malice.

Sunoo simply grinned, forming a heart with his fingers before skipping off toward the ovens again.

“You have a cute laugh,” Heeseung said abruptly, ruffling Y/N’s hair gently as if she were a kid.

“Thanks,” she murmured, looking away as her cheeks flushed. She didn’t know why heat rushed to her face at the comment, but when a good-looking guy compliments you, what else are you supposed to do? 

“Not as cute as Jake’s, though. But still.” He continued, a soft smile growing on his face.

The moment the name “Jake” left Heeseung’s lips, Jungwon and Sunoo groaned simultaneously.

“You and Jake again? Just fucking date already,” Jungwon grumbled.

“I’m sorry, what K-drama episode is this?” Sunoo asked, deadpan.

Heeseung scoffed, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. “You’re just jealous someone actually likes me.”

Jungwon and Sunoo gasped in unison, spinning toward him with exaggerated expressions of mock offense.

Y/N stifled a giggle, marveling at how easily their banter shifted between tense and ridiculous. The dynamic in the kitchen was chaotic, but it felt oddly warm– inviting, even.

She opened her mouth to ask who this ‘Jake’ was when the kitchen doors slammed open.

All heads turned instinctively toward the sound.

Now, Y/n hadn’t been attracted to any man ever since experiencing a very messy breakup with her ex– yet all those years of celibacy had flew out the window the moment she saw who just sauntered in. He had long, luscious locks of black hair and the plumpest lips he’d ever seen; even on a girl. The man looked like he hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep in years but it managed to make him look even more attractive. His figure was lean, but you could see through his see-through blouse how toned his biceps were. She couldn’t help but stare. 

There’s nothing wrong with thinking your coworker is attractive, Y/n. She consoled herself.

“You’re late,” Heeseung said flatly, his tone laced with just enough disapproval to sound believable. He straightened from where he was leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

Riki strode in without a trace of apology, his expression a mix of irritation and defiance. He dropped his crossbody Prada bag onto the floor as casually as if it were a grocery tote.

Y/N blinked, unable to hide her disbelief. He just put a Prada bag on the floor. Not even she would do that, and she’d grown up in a pretty well-off family.

“Sorry, your majesty,” Riki quipped, smirking as he pulled a black bandana from his pocket and tied it around his head to push his bangs out of his face. The gesture was quick and practiced, his fingers moving deftly. Y/N noticed how his confidence exuded throughout the room, and she quickly looked away with a blush on her cheeks. 

“Riki, you’re on dish duty tonight. Jung-Hoon’s still sick,” Jungwon announced, tossing him a stained washcloth and gesturing toward the sink with a tilt of his chin.

“Are you serious?” Riki groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “I swear he’s just saying that to get out of work.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sunoo chimed in, laughing as he patted Riki’s shoulder in mock sympathy. “Rules are rules.”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek to suppress a grin. She was beginning to think she might enjoy this strange, lively environment.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the minutes turned into an hour, the kitchen transformed into a full-fledged operation. Waiters and servers bustled in and out, balancing trays of empty plates or carefully scrawling order notes onto slips of paper. Sunoo, one of the fastest and most efficient among them, barely paused to catch his breath as he dropped another set of orders onto the counter near the chefs. The cooks moved like clockwork, passing sauces and side dishes to sous-chefs, who quickly returned them plated and garnished.

Y/N couldn’t help but be captivated by the precision. The staff worked in such perfect sync, their movements calculated yet fluid. And then there was her—awkwardly lingering at the edges of the chaos, feeling more like an outsider with each passing minute.

“Hey, what is this girl doing here?”

The shout cut through the noise, and Y/N felt her stomach drop as a few heads turned in her direction.

She was frozen in place, caught off guard, but before she could answer, Riki’s voice piped up from near the bathrooms.

“Who, David hyung?” Riki was adjusting a tie in a small wall-mounted mirror, his tone casual. His hair had been tied back with a hair tie, of all things, and Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if he actually intended to leave it that way.

She hesitated, awkwardly raising her hand in a half-hearted wave. She’d been standing near Heeseung moments ago, but he had wandered off to argue with a waitress.

“Oh,” Riki said, his tone brightening when he finally noticed her. “So you must be the new hire. Wait here, I’ll find Sunghoon-hyung for you.”

Y/N nodded, though disappointment flickered faintly in her chest. She’d been hoping to introduce herself properly, but everyone just seemed too busy.

“Nishimura here, has anyone seen Mr. Park yet?” Riki’s voice came through a walkie-talkie clipped to his ear as he pushed his way out of the kitchen doors. And just like that, he was gone again.

Y/N tried to keep herself out of everyone’s way, retreating to the quieter area near the cold storage. Curiosity tugged at her, though, and she couldn’t resist peeking into the walk-in fridge. She was curious– too much for her own good, her mother would tell him, so she felt an urge to go inside. It’s not like there's much in there anyway, but she wanted to explore every part of this place to familiarize herself. After all, she did plan on working here for a while.

While nobody was looking (which no one was in the first place), she walked inside the ventilation room which didn’t have a door. The temperature dropped sharply as she stepped inside, her breath puffing in small clouds. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with imported fruits, bread, vegetables, and neatly labeled containers. She noted the gleaming steel doors on either side of the room, their surfaces polished enough to reflect her face. Her breath came out in small puffs, hot smoke emitting from his her.

Her fingers brushed against one of the handles, but something in her stomach twisted—an instinctive unease she couldn’t quite place. Get yourself together. It’s just a freezer, she told herself, exhaling slowly.

She stepped closer, her hand hovering over the keypad next to the door. It required a code to unlock. Y/N sighed, letting her arm fall back to her side. No use poking around where she didn’t belong.

“What are you doing here?”

The low, cutting voice came from directly behind her, so close she felt the heat of their breath.

Y/N froze, a startled gasp slipping from her lips. Her heart jumped to her throat as she spun around.

Speak of the devil.

Park Sunghoon stood there, his expression hard and unyielding, his dark eyes sharp enough to pierce through her. His brows were furrowed, and his clenched jaw only added to the intensity of his glare. She started trembling, an uneasy feeling washing over her as she felt her limbs go numb.

“I asked you a question.” His face was contorted with rage, hostile gaze boring into her eyes. and Y/n swore she had never felt more terrified in her life. She was paralyzed to the spot, the menacing aura holding her in a tightening grip.

“I— I didn’t mean to—” Y/N stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

His hand slammed against the door behind her, just inches from her head. The metallic clang echoed in the small room, and she flinched instinctively. Y/n took two steps backward, recoiling herself as much as she could. Sunghoon mimicked this, taking two steps forward until their faces were inches apart.

Her mind was whirling, confusion and fear etched on her face. She didn’t know what provoked this type of reaction, as the same playful Sunghoon from last night seemed to have dissapated. Y/n did not like this new version at all.

“Get out,” he spat, his voice cold and venomous.

“What?” Y/N blinked, unsure if she’d heard him correctly.

“I said, get out. Now.”

The command snapped her out of her daze. She slipped under his arm and bolted for the door, her pulse pounding as she emerged back into the bustling kitchen.

“Never come here again, you understand?” Sunghoon’s voice followed her, sharp and unrelenting.

She didn’t turn around, couldn’t turn around. Her legs carried her forward on autopilot, her body reeling from the encounter.

That was a close one, Sunghoon thought to himself, his sharp gaze lingering on the door Y/N had fled through moments ago. He hadn’t planned on firing her—not for something as trivial as this. Other people had made the same mistake before, and Y/N was far too important for his future plans to let go.

If I go through with it, that is, he reminded himself, the thought laced with calculated restraint. There were still details to finalize, conversations to have with his affiliates.

He exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable as he turned back toward the steel door. His fingers moved with practiced ease, punching in the security code. The small beep echoed faintly in the stillness of the room. The heavy door clicked open, and he slipped inside, the cold air biting against his skin. Without hesitation, he reached for the keypad on the interior wall and locked the door behind him, ensuring no one else could follow.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Y/N’s feet didn’t stop moving until she was safely out of the cold storage area and back into the bustling kitchen. The warmth of the space wrapped around her like a shield, but her heart was still hammering against her ribs. She pressed a hand to her chest, willing herself to calm down.

She scanned the room, searching for something—anything—to ground her. Her gaze landed on Riki, who had just returned, casually sliding into the room with a clipboard in hand. He glanced up, immediately noticing the strained look on her face.

“So I couldn’t find Sunghoon, but you can work with Sunoo as a—Hey, are you okay?”

His teasing tone disappeared, replaced by genuine concern. Riki tilted his head, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied her.

Y/N tried to respond, but her throat felt tight, and her voice caught before she could form words.

“Y/N?” His tone softened, and he took a cautious step closer. The sudden shift in his demeanor, from playful to protective, nearly unraveled her completely.

“I’m fine,” she managed to say, though her voice cracked slightly. She blinked rapidly, forcing the tears threatening to spill to retreat. She hated feeling like this—so vulnerable, so exposed.

Riki frowned, not buying her answer. Without saying anything, he stepped forward and wrapped her in a short, loose hug. It was quick, just enough to let her feel the comfort of another person’s presence. 

Y/N froze for a moment, startled by the gesture. Then she let herself relax, if only slightly. She already had the craziest past 24 hours, so a hug was really what she needed right now– even if its from a total stranger she had just met. Her childhood butler would kill himself if he knew what she was doing, the hilarious thought making her feel slightly better. 

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

He pulled back, offering her a small, reassuring smile. “Look, I don’t know what happened, and I know we just met, but we’re technically family now.” His voice was quiet, almost careful, as if he didn’t want to overwhelm her further. “If something’s wrong, you come to me, okay?”

Y/N hesitated, unsure whether to trust him. He seemed sincere, but then again, so had Sunghoon when they first met. Still, she nodded.

“Good,” Riki said with a simple smile, as if that settled everything. He straightened up just as Sunoo walked by, arms full of freshly folded linens.

“Riki, they need you out front,” Sunoo called, not bothering to stop as he breezed past them.

Riki sighed dramatically, giving Y/N one last look. “I’ll be back. Don’t let Sunoo boss you around too much.”

“Hey!” Sunoo called from across the room, his tone indignant.

Riki grinned, raising his hands in mock surrender as he headed for the doors.

Sunoo turned to Y/N once Riki was gone, his easygoing smile immediately putting her at ease. “Well, since you’re stuck with me for now, let’s keep it simple for your first day.” He handed a notepad and pen to Y/n, who took it with grace. 

“Just watch what I do, and if you have any questions, ask away.”

“Thanks, Sunoo,” Y/N said softly, grateful for his straightforwardness.

He smiled wider and led her out to the dining area, where the atmosphere was entirely different from the chaos of the kitchen. Guests sat at elegantly set tables, the low hum of conversation and the clinking of silverware filling the air. The chandeliers overhead cast a warm, golden light, and the scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the rich aroma of sauces and grilled meats.

Y/N followed Sunoo closely, observing as he navigated the room with practiced ease. He moved quickly but never appeared rushed, greeting guests with a polite smile and taking orders with precision.

“You have to be exact,” Sunoo explained as he scribbled a note onto his pad. “A single mistake, and the chefs will make you regret it.”

Y/N nodded, hurriedly writing down his advice. She couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he handled everything, even when a guest became visibly impatient.

The next hour passed in a blur of activity. Y/N trailed after Sunoo like a shadow, trying to absorb everything she could. Despite her initial nerves, she found herself growing fascinated by the rhythm of it all—the way everyone had a role to play, how every detail mattered. She also liked the blonde’s company, as his extroverted personality made her feel at ease. 

By the time they reached their fifth table, Y/N was starting to feel more comfortable. That is, until a petite girl wearing a black mask approached her, her dark eyes sharp and focused.

“Mr. Park told me to give you this,” the girl said simply, handing over a small post-it note.

Y/N’s heart sank the moment she heard his name. Her hands trembled slightly as she unfolded the note.

Meet me in my office by 2:30. No company. – President Sunghoon

Her stomach churned, a familiar dread creeping up her spine.

“Is everything okay?” Sunoo asked, noticing the way her face had paled.

Y/N forced a nod, quickly folding the note and slipping it into her pocket. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just... an orientation thing, I think.”

Sunoo didn’t seem entirely convinced but didn’t press further. “If you say so.”

Y/N tried to focus on the task at hand, but her mind kept circling back to the note. She didn’t know what the man wanted, but she doubted it was anything good.

How fun.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

author note: ahhh what is he gonna say?? 👀 also im sorry if the character descriptions are weird, i was trying to figure out which member fit which role best (i switched heeseung and jay last minute bc heejake <3 and 02z supremacy). thank you for all the love!! hope you enjoyed! not beta read! (we die like men), wc: 4.4k

prev | masterlist | next

taglist: @rebeccaaaaaaaa, @strxwbloody, @shuichi-sama , @pshbites

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

With All That I Am

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Part 7 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series

Warnings: Hospitals, injury recovery, cockwarming, oral (f receiving), angst, hurt/comfort.

SIX MONTHS AGO

There's something about Dominic Saintclair that Billy had never liked.

He could never put his finger on it. Maybe it was the pretentiousness of his actions, the way he looked like he'd never had a hard day in his life, the lackadaisical way he treated things as if they were replaceable.

The way he didn't understand that the most valuable thing he had, was the one thing he was mistreating right now.

"I swear, she doesn't know when to leave me alone." Dominic says loudly in the opulent bar, a place that was more red velvet seats and accented gold ornaments than anything else. It was somewhere Billy brought the clients he could impress easily, ones that didn't understand what the best brand of gin for a negroni was, or that whiskey shouldn't be served with ice. It was simply a place that glittered, gorgeous on the surface with no real substance... or character... not unlike the man in question.

Billy looks down at Dominic's cloned phone. All you had said was that you hoped he was having fun. 

"Maybe you're just not fucking her enough." One of his friends joke.

"Oh fuck off. I fuck her more than enough, maybe that's why she's so needy." It gets a round of laughter from his friends, and a disgusted frown from Billy.

At the bar, only a few tables away, Billy's hand tightens on his glass of whiskey, his back is to the group, and he's positioned in a dark enough corner to be unnoticed while still being able to hear the conversation.

"Anyways, enough about that, finish telling me about the red head." Dominic says, and Billy is forced to listen to him talk about other women when he has the best one.

Billy thinks about how stupidly simple it would be to kill your boyfriend, but doing it now would create more problems. You wouldn't know how much of an asshole he really was, for starters, you'd probably convince yourself that you'd been deeply in love with him before his untimely death. People tended to put dead loved ones on a pedestal, forgiving them unless their crimes were truly heinous. 

No, you had to see Dominic for his true colours first. Then, and only then, he would wipe your stain of a boyfriend from the earth.

Billy listens to Dominic say some more vile things, fully understanding his hatred for the man now. Dominic was manipulative, showing you one face, and yet secretly thinking something else behind your back. With a frown, he scrolls through your older messages.

You always seemed to be reaching for him, supportive of the things he said. He never voiced his support for you in return. 

What a fucking waste of space. To have someone as precious as you, and to take you for granted.

If he had you... he'd worship you. Without a doubt, Billy would kiss every inch of your skin, kneel at your feet if you asked, kiss you at every waking moment.

When another text comes in from you, he smiles.

As predicted, you text a second time after you've seen his read receipts and no response has come in from your idiot boyfriend.

'Are you alright?' You text.

The corner of Billy's mouth lifts, he wishes you were sending texts like this to him.

Dominic responds.

'Yes. I'm fine. Stop bothering me.'

Billy's smile drops.

You don't respond, but you see the message. He knows that you're hurt by it.

Billy's thoughts go violent again.

Anonymously, Billy has bought round after round of shots for the men, until they're wasted, and their lips are loose and he can soak in all the information possible. He plots while he listens, and he learns so much, until he could pick apart any man there in his sleep.

Their numbers dwindle, until it's just two men there, and he waits patiently for Dominic to stand on inebriated feet and head off to the bathroom.

Billy knows that Dominic is barely functional right now, having taken shot after shot, Billy is aware that Dominic will not remember any bit of whatever is happening right now.

With that information, he texts Dominic's companion from the cloned phone.

'Feeling better now, ordered an Uber, you can go ahead without me.'

Billy watches his friend read the text, finish his drink and then leave.

Too easy.

Dominic is so far gone that when he returns to his seat, he barely notices that his friend's things are gone, and Billy acts fast to stop Dominic from realising that anything is amiss.

"Saintclair." Billy greets, whiskey in hand, looking around to make sure that no one is looking, "Drinking all by yourself?" 

Dominic looks up at Billy and squints.

"Mister Russo?"

Billy hums the affirmative.

"Got room for company?" The words are bitter in his mouth.

Billy doesn't wait for an answer, pushing the inebriated man deeper into the booth and sliding into the space next to him. He hates this place, literally just designed for showing off, he glances at Dominic, who's lost in his own head, staring at his drink.

Nothing this man was thinking could ever be worth your time.

He raises his hand to the bartender, calling for another round of shots.

Dominic only has time to adjust his body, from his slumped, hazy demeanour, to appear like someone with all their critical thinking skills functional.

Billy spikes the drink with a little bit of melatonin, it's more than enough at Dominic's current level of intoxication.

"Wasn't drinking by myself, but the rest of guys have already left." Dominic slurs, and Billy raises his eyebrows, extending the spiked shot to the already drunk man.

He gives Dominic the opportunity to decline the shot, doesn't force it into his hands, just holds it out expectantly and watches the younger man choose his own self-destruction.

He kind of delights in it, the anarchy he's capable of. Each person has a role to play and it's always nice when they do it as expected.

Dominic throws back the shot with him and internally, Billy begins his internal stopwatch.

"I hope the job's treating you well." Billy hums, uncaring of what the man next to him has to say. He just has to make small talk for fifteen minutes, before the drug kicks in.

Billy asks about some of his coworkers, and then his phone pings, alerting him to a message. 

"Clingy." Is all Dominic has to say, looking at his phone when Billy inquires casually.

His eyebrows raise, watching his employee yawn, the drug beginning to take effect.

"If you don't like her that much, then why are you with her?" Billy asks, trying to keep the anger out of his tone.

"Why not?" Is the last thing Dominic says before he slumps over onto the table, asleep.

Billy blinks, an angry sneer growing on his face. What a careless piece of shit. He reaches for Dominic's phone, unlocks it and opens your messages the way he's done a hundred times before.

'At least tell me you're okay.' You'd texted.

"Prick." Billy swears, typing out a message to you on Dominic's phone.

'I'm alright sweetness, just getting ready to go home.' After a moment, he sends another message.

'I'm sorry about that last message, you don't bother me.'

He finds himself smiling when your text bubbles appear almost immediately.

'That's alright! I understand that you probably just wanted some time with your friends.' You say.

You were so quick to forgive, it made Billy's heart sour with the thought that Dominic didn't deserve your forgiveness.

'How was your night?' He asks, smiling fondly when he gets a picture of you wearing a fluffy robe and face mask.

'Very pretty, baby.' He replies, which earns a little '😳' face in response.

How sweet you were, saccharine and sticky, Billy could find himself eating you up quite easily.

'I mean it. I think you're fucking gorgeous.'

It takes a moment to get your response.

'How much have you had to drink exactly?'

Billy grits his teeth, looking over at the unconscious fuck. He barely ever tells you how pretty you are. It's why you think he's drunk now.

'A bit, but that doesn't make it any less true. You are beautiful.'

You don't respond immediately, Billy spends five minutes refreshing Dominic's phone until he gets a very shy 'Thank you,' in response.

He smiles, pockets Dominic's phone.

"Time to get you home, Saintclair." He says to the unconscious man.

He gets someone from the bar to help him get Dominic into the back seat of his car, uncaring of how he's placed, thanking the larger man with a hefty tip before getting into his car.

'You didn't tell me what you did today.' He sends before driving off.

He hears several different message notifications while he drives, and he can't help smiling, because for once, you were finally talking to him, and not as a stranger, but as someone familiar.

It was much harder to get Dominic to his apartment due to the lack of help he'd had from earlier, yet Billy made do with tossing the unconscious man over his shoulder, and then putting him down when they were in the elevator.

Billy really could have left Dominic anywhere, at the bar, or at the front steps to his apartment, or even at the door, with his keys in hand to have him wake up there in the morning horrified that he was so drunk he couldn't even make it inside.

But Billy drops Dominic on his bed instead, after accidentally bumping his head on a few door frames, he decides that he'd keep the drunk asshole safe this time...for you.

After, Billy sits in Dominic's living room, and opens up his phone once more.

'Okay, this doesn't mean anything but I went to a jewellery store today. I was looking at earrings and then I couldn't help looking at the engagement rings.'

Oh? Billy thinks.

'They were all shiny and even though I like shiny, they didn't feel like me you know? I feel like if we ever... uhhhh.... you know.... get married, I'd want something more unique you know?'

'Hello? Are you there? Did I scare you off? This isn't me asking for a wedding, I'm just saying.'

'Dominic?'

Billy sucks in a breath.

'I'm here, sorry, just got home.' he replies, tries to ignore the pain inside of him that worsens with the thought of you getting married to anyone other than him.

'Oh... Hi' you respond.

Billy smiles.

'Hi, do you have any ideas of what you think might be for you?'

He can almost see your excitement.

'Are you sure? If this is weird, you can say so.'

How cute, the way you care.

'I'd really like to see them.' He answers.

You send a link, and indeed, they're beautiful and unique and Billy can't help the thoughts of wearing it, and having you wear the other.

'These are the ones I've always dreamed of.' you add on with the attached pictures.

He bites down on his bottom lip, closes his eyes, and imagines how perfect your hands would look linked together, decorated with matching rings. The thought makes him hard.

'They have to be custom ordered though, really expensive, I'm sure we can find something cheaper.'

Absolutely not.

'They're beautiful. Tell me your ring size so that I can surprise you.'

He makes note of it when you send it.

'I can't wait to marry you.' He says.

'Well now I know you really are drunk.' You respond.

Billy has a quick moment of realisation when he remembers that you think you're talking to Dominic.

His smile drops.

'I am drunk. But you're still the most amazing person on the planet. I think you might be it for me.' And Billy means it. He means every word. He plans to marry this sweet girl that waltzed her way into his life and believed in him after two conversations.

'I love you.' Comes your reply.

Billy smiles.

'I love you too.' 

He stays with you until you fall asleep, telling you all the sweet things he's ever wanted to say, dodging personal topics that he doesn't know the answers to. When you're finally asleep, he stands, checks the time, and goes back to Dominic's room, dropping his phone onto the bed beside his sleeping form.

Billy almost considers hitting him, enjoying the thought of giving him a black eye in the morning, but that had the possibility of scaring him into not drinking again, and Billy couldn't have that.

So he leaves, walks out of your boyfriend's apartment, and does not set it on fire like he wants to. 

.

NOW

You stare calmly at the elevator doors. The smell of hospital filling the air around you. In a way, there was an ease to it, a comfort in the sterile cleanliness, a place designed to turn chaos into order.

You sip on your coffee, feeling refreshed after popping back home for a quick shower and supplies for Billy. You didn't want to leave, but you knew you wouldn't be able to stay while the nurses changed his bandages, the wound too fresh to introduce any foreign bacteria. So you'd decided to make yourself useful in the meantime.

Frank was still here somewhere, waiting for you to return so that he could leave. You'd both had tentatively agreed that Billy should not be left alone under any circumstance, surprised that you and his best friend had been on a similar wavelength when it came to caring for him.

Frank's in the waiting room taking a call when you see him. He gives you a little nod, and a gesture of his head that tells you it's okay to go see him.

You do exactly that, making your way to the nurses' station to sign in before heading to his room.

You stop short when at the door, you hear the sound of female laughter. 

It's not laughter exactly, it's... giggling.

It's obviously flirtatious, in that pitch that's just too high to be normal.

You hear Billy's voice next, too far away to make out what he's saying but he sounds polite.

Followed by more giggling.

Pure jealousy rears its head. 

You had only been gone for an hour and someone had taken the opportunity to begin flirting with your husband? 

Something dark blooms inside you, and you take a deep breath, and walk through the doors with your head high.

Two pairs of eyes turn to look at you.

"I'm back." You say calmly, smiling.

Billy smiles at you, his hair askew in every direction as if he hasn't ever heard of a brush. It's adorable, makes him look so much more boyish than usual. Your eyes go to the young nurse, that's currently taking Billy's blood pressure, quietly sizing her up, deciding if she was worth any sort of trouble at all.

"Hey baby, did you get one of those for me?" He asks, referring to the cappuccino in your hands.

You look down at him, close enough to see the tiredness under his eyes although you know this is the most amount of sleep he's ever gotten.

"Sorry, doctor said no." You respond.

Billy lets out a pained groan, and you can't help it, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his temple.

He sighs, reaching up to take your hand in his, you watch his eyes linger on your wedding ring.

"I was just explaining to Becca here how easy it was to ignore the pain for so long."

Becca?

Your eyebrows raise in amused displeasure.

"Yeah," she adds in with a wistful smile, "If he didn't pass out from the pain he probably wouldn't have gotten help in time."

Great, a reminder that you weren't there when he'd almost died. You're pretty sure that the only expression you show her is one of disdain.

'Careful,' you think maliciously in her direction, 'If he likes you enough he'll cage you like a bird.'

"How are his vitals?" You ask blankly, trying to get her out of here as soon as possible, ignoring the way Billy looks up at you in confusion at your clipped tone.

"They're uh, they're good! But-" She begins to say, but stops short and presses the back of her hand to Billy's forehead. You blink, clenching your teeth together. You're pretty sure this wasn't medically professional, and you suck in a slow breath to stop yourself from smacking her hand away from your husband.

"Are you feeling okay Bil- Mister Russo? Your heart rate is a bit high." she continues.

You glance up at her monitor in question, and sure enough the little number on screen next to the pulsing heart symbol was just a little above one hundred.

You knew that his heart shouldn't be going at near a hundred beats per minute if he was mostly stationary in bed.

Billy lets out a nervous laugh. You look down at him in confusion.

"Yean, that's- I'm fine- It's just... well... her." He explains, glancing up at you for a second.

Me? You think incredulously, blinking.

His heart is beating fast because you were near him?

Your anger dissolves as fast as it had appeared, stomach fluttering, you try to fight the smile pulling at your face but you inevitably fail.

He doesn't look up at you, so you grip his jaw, tilting his head up.

Absentmindedly, you're aware of the nurse excusing herself from the room.

You press your lips to his swiftly, delight spreading down your body when he groans against your mouth. You deepen the kiss and he accepts it eagerly.

After a moment, you pause, turning your head to look at the little monitor, His heart rate having gone up to one hundred and twenty.

"Still jealous?" he asks, with a cheeky smile.

You don't answer, leaning in to kiss him softly once more.

. 

"Please." Billy begs.

"No." You whisper, bumping your nose against his, adjusting your body under the sheets so that you're both fully covered.

"Just a little bit." He tries to bargain.

"You move, and I'll stop. You cum, and I'll stop." 

He lets out a harsh breath.

"You're being really mean to me." He pouts.

"If you rip a stitch, I won't touch you until they come out."

He groans, frustrated.

Unable to resist, you clench around his cock.

"That's not fair." he gasps desperately.

"Sorry, this isn't entirely easy for me either."

Currently, you were both under his sheets, on your back, both legs draped over his hip, while he lies on his left side facing you. It was a position that had made it very easy for him to slip himself inside of you, allowing you to keep his cock warm. 

He swallows, looking at you with warm eyes.

"You feel so good around me. You know that?"

How was he allowed to say things like that while literally stretching you open? God, you could feel the tip of his cock nestled snugly in the very deepest parts of you, every inch of your cunt sighing in relief at finally being so full of him.

You feel yourself get smaller under his gaze, soft, gentle, unnameable in its unfamiliarity.

"If it feels half as good as it does for me, then yeah, I know." you reply easily.

He smiles, it causes butterflies to flutter in gentle circles within you.

"You're beautiful." he murmurs softly.

It's your turn to swallow and look away.

Your eyes are drawn to his bare chest, and the snake tattoo that resides on his shoulder. He could not be real with the way he made you feel, like all the air in the room had simply vanished by his command, held even further out of reach by the thickness of his cock sitting still inside you.

"You really mean that?" You ask, your insecurity gaining a foothold in your head.

He reaches for your left hand, raises it up to his face so that he can lay a swift kiss onto your wedding ring.

"I do." 

The door swinging open has your eyes widening from your shared spot under the sheets. Thankfully, you were still mostly clothed, where Billy was fully naked.

"Bill?" comes Frank's voice in question from his spot by the door.

Billy winks at you, before moving the sheet off your top halves to reveal you both to the open air.

"Hey Frank." Billy greets.

Frank takes one look at your positions and lets out a tired sigh.

"You two are fucking, aren't you?" The exasperated sound of his voice drawing a smile from you.

You can't help the laugh that leaves you, giving everything away. 

Frank's disappointed expression makes Billy laugh too.

"Alright. I'm walking out this door, I'll be back in five minutes, your pants better be on, Russo."

"Make it ten!" Billy shouts just as Frank gives another disappointed shake of his head, and leaves the room.

.

Clothed now, in long blue linen pants, Billy kisses your temple, one arm wrapped securely around you as you lie beside him.

"Thanks for being here with me." He says softly, his hands gripping onto any available part of you he could reach, anything to pull you closer to him.

"What? Is Frank not good enough company?" You tease, beginning to laugh when you feel the scratch of his beard as he kisses your throat.

"Frank is usually in the bed beside me." he says into your neck, and you laugh at the imagery.

"Plus," he says in a softer, more serious tone as he pulls away for a moment. You turn to look at him curiously.

"I've never had someone worry about me the way you do."

"Ever?" You ask.

He shakes his head, looks down.

You're not sure what he's thinking, but it looks like guilt, all soft lines and sadness and you ache to make him feel better.

You lean forward, cupping his jaw. His eyes are so open for you that you think you can see his soul in them- a dark web of shadows, that glitters with vulnerability the more you look. 

You wanted his vulnerability, you wanted him to open himself up to you, and share everything he was, everything he could be, until you were full of him.  

Until you could taste him in your mouth, even when he wasn't around.

"I'm here now, and I'll worry. I'll fight anyone that stops me from getting to you. Including Frank Castle." You promise.

His frown grows into a smile.

"You're sure you don't wanna ride me? I'll stay really still." 

You groan.

"No, no vigorous activity for at least four weeks."

"You riding me isn't vigorous."

"Yes, but I'd consider your orgasms vigorous." You reply, contemplating the way the muscles of his abdomen tended to tighten up when he came.

"Wait," Billy says in horror, "I can't come for four weeks?"

"You'll be fine." You huff.

"No I won't be." He protests.

"Just let me take care of you."

He couldn't argue with that.

. 

"You hate me don't you?" Billy asks.

You try not to grin.

You turn to face him, clad in only your plainest underwear as you get ready for work. Somehow, he still saw beauty in you, even when you weren't trying. It was exhilarating.

Unfortunately you couldn't stay with him, a meeting had been scheduled that you didn't want to push back due to the difficulty in actually getting the meeting in the first place.

"Why? Is there something wrong with it?" You ask, turning playfully to show him the back and the front.

"Everything's fucking wrong with it," Billy grumbles from his spot in bed, head tilting back for a second in what looks like a plea to God himself.

"When I get these stitches out, you're gonna be in so much trouble." he says with a little grunt.

You hum, in thought.

"You know, now that I think about it, I don't think I'll wear underwear today." You taunt.

Billy groans loudly.

Something delightful blooms within you.

. 

Wrong.

This was supposed to be wrong.

The more you think that, the more you know that this is the most right feeling in the world.

There was nothing in your old life that could ever possibly compare to him.

Usually, people coerced into marriage were subjected to inhumane treatment, impossible and abusive environments, that sucked the very living soul out of them.

The most soul sucking being done to you was when you'd been forced to deny Billy the pleasure of tasting you last night.

The pleasure of tasting you... because to him... it really was a pleasure.

You swallow, sitting at his desk, tense in his comfortable chair. You'd become someone he'd wanted.

Or maybe you'd always been. When had he decided to marry you anyways?

You blink, shock spearing through you.

What if your feelings weren't real? But simply a defence response to your circumstances.

A tired sigh leaving your lips. A shake of your head.

Would you want him if you weren't trapped by him? 

The question eats away at your sanity. You spin it around and around in your head and still you can't find an answer.

You're scared by it. By the notion of losing him.

You're also scared by the idea of staying with him, still not fully understanding what he was capable of.

Which fear was right?

And which one would break your heart? 

. 

Billy says your name in question when he hears a door slam shut.

"Just me, Bill." Is Frank's answering voice.

"Where is she?" He murmurs, throat dry, looking up at the ceiling. The pain meds held him in a state of mild confusion, spaced out so that he wasn't in any pain, but unable to truly focus on the things happening around him.

He hears the slow pour of water, peeks an eye open to find Frank beside him. He struggles to sit up, tucking a second and then third pillow behind him for support and gratefully accepting the glass of water from Frank.

"It's only two, her meeting just started so you'll see her a little later."

Billy nods, ignoring Frank's gaze as he sips the water.

"I've never seen you so down bad before."

Billy's laugh bubbles in the glass he's holding.

"What can I say? I'm a romantic." He answers flippantly.

Frank snorts loudly in knowing disbelief. Billy frowns.

"You don't think it's fast? Is she... does she have something on you?"

Anger spears itself through Billy, some at Frank, most at himself.

I'm a monster, he thinks.

He turns away, not wanting Frank to read the expression on his face, wondering if his look of guilt alone will put the pieces together in Frank's head.

"It's not like that." He says easily, thinking to himself what a sick fuck he must be to coerce someone so glorious, so awe-inspiring, into marriage against her will.

He thinks he hates himself for it.

"She told me you got accidentally married. I can't imagine a version of you, however drunk, that would accept marriage."

Frank was getting too close. Billy had to say something to appease him.

"I'd met her before, at... a company party or two. I liked her, but she had a boyfriend."

When Billy doesn't continue, Frank is forced to prompt.

"And?" 

Billy stares down at the sheets. The very sheets you'd slept under last night.

"And when I met her in Vegas, they'd just broken up, and I wanted something with her, and I don't remember how, but the next day I woke up married to her and I was so happy."

It's mostly the truth, the best tale he can spin in his state.

"I know it doesn't make sense, Frankie, but when I'm with her... I'm the man I've always wanted to be."

Frank is quiet for too long now, and Billy is forced to turn his head and look up at his best friend curiously.

Both men stare at each other in silence for a moment.

"Alright, okay, I'm sold, bring her around to meet Maria and the kids." Frank says finally.

If anything, this was Frank Castle's ultimate seal of approval. Introducing strangers to his family was not an occasion to be taken lightly.

Billy grins up at Frank.

"I can't believe I had to lose my appendix to get her invited to a Castle family dinner. You're so gullible, Frank." Billy teases.

He's rewarded with a gentle smack to his shoulder.

. 

You run your hands over the fabric of your dress, deep in thought.

Was it too much? You think you might be overdressed.

It was a lovely beige colour, maybe tan, knee length with a vintage design and little puff sleeves. You'd liked how it looked in the store. Now? You honestly felt like it was a little much.

Maybe Billy would be able to help you decide.

You call his name, walking out of your shared closet and toward the living room where you saw him last.

You spin the corner and find him already coming toward you.

"Are you okay?" He asks, dressed casually in a grey shirt and black pants.

You stumble over your words, your brain spinning too fast for you to keep up.

"W- yeah- I was coming to ask your opinion, but I am so clearly overdressed." You turn on your heel to go back into the bedroom.

"Oh no you don't." Billy says, and before you know it, he's grabbed a hold of your wrist, pulling you into his body.

You gasp, eyes widening on his face as he presses you against the wall of the hallway.

Your heart pounds in your chest at his proximity. Your need for him outweighs rational thought until you have to remind yourself that he's still recovering. If he touched you right now though, he'd find you already wet, and eager for him.

While you've been fighting your aching desire, he's taken the time to run the tips of his fingers across the apple of your cheek.

"God. You're so pretty." He whispers, warm eyes spilling euphoria into you.

He couldn't mean that. Could he?

You glance away, only to be forced into looking back at him when he grabs your jaw roughly.

The tension between you feels like an electric charge, that heightens as he gets closer. 

It's like he's never touched you before, like the sensation is brand new, and not months old. 

"I should change," You whisper, "This dress is too much."

He takes a deep breath, his hand glides from gripping your jaw to curl around your throat. Your breath stutters at the feeling. Something flutters low, an ache to be filled rears its head.

"You're gorgeous. In anything you wear. I'd want you in a ball gown or a potato sack."

Good lord.

When you smile, he brings his fingers up to press against your lips, exploring the shape of your smile, appreciating the softness.

"You mean that?" You ask, a little unsure.

His dark eyes devour you, unfocused as he looks at you, balancing on the precipice of admiring you and imagining just exactly what he wants to do to you.

"Why don't I show you?" He offers.

You reach to grip his elbows when it seems like he's going to kneel.

"No, we- you're still recovering and I don't think it's fair that I get to cum if you can't."

He lets out a low grunt, pressing his body roughly against yours, his palms against the wall on either side of your head, his forehead and nose pressed to yours. The intensity of his gaze makes you turn your head to look away, he's got the demeanour of a man starved, desperate, borderline unhinged.

He doesn't let you move far, fingers curling around the back of your neck to bring you back to face him.

"Little wife," he says so deeply that you're not sure if it's a promise or a threat.

"Lift your dress up for me, or I'll tie you up and lick your cunt anyway."

You gulp. The very thought of being helpless while he-

Fuck, but you didn't even have the time, Frank would be expecting you in an hour. 

You let out a breath, feeling more than seeing the smile that forms on his face as you begin gathering the materials of your skirt into your fists.

"Good." he says finally, and you can only feel your body throb with heat in response.

There's the gentlest kiss to your mouth, something of a promise, a pledge that when he's done with you, you won't remember how to walk.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he kneels, you know that when he reaches up to tug your underwear down the length of your legs, that he'll see the desperation he causes.

He swears when he sees it, drawing out the syllables as he witnesses the way your arousal clings to the little piece of fabric protecting your modesty.

You swallow, the materials bunched in your hands no doubt wrinkling with the force.

He takes his time, tracing coarse fingers over your calve, behind your knee and up your thigh, pulling gently to guide one of your legs over his shoulder. 

He doesn't bother to touch your centre, circle your sweet bud with his thumb like he wants to, he uses his tongue right away.

You take in a sharp breath at the contact. The tip of his tongue meeting your clit affectionately, like old friends reuniting.

A shiver goes down your spine, you crush your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Billy." You whisper softly, tilting your head back as his tongue flattens on you.

He takes it slow, remarkably gentle on your hypersensitive body, having gone relatively long in recent times without an orgasm, you feel like just the right move will pull you apart at the seams.

You let out a little groan, sighing as his pace quickens, his tongue pushing deeper, so that he can get a taste of you directly from the source.

It's primal, soft, ritualistic in the way that his tongue worships you, your eyes rolling back in your head as he draws you close to your peak.

There's an obscene sucking sound, followed closely by a hum of pleasure from between your legs. You feel your body tense, coiled tight on the precipice of bliss, thighs trembling as he keeps his tongue focused on your clit, lapping gently, and then a little harsher, to be gentle again.

His beard scratches your thighs, and even that is an aphrodisiac by itself, reminding you constantly that it's his mouth on you, his tongue on your cunt, his head between your thighs.

A sharp whine of warning, your stomach tightens, your breath stutters. 

A groan of approval from him, the soft twist of his fingers on your skin, as if to encourage you, to tell you how good you're being for him, and all you ever want to do now is be good for him.

Being deconstructed by his mouth should be a lot harder, and yet, Billy makes it look like a basic endeavour.

Your toes curl, head knocking the wall, you feel like you're coming apart, atom by atom, the force of your pleasure barely contained within your skin. You feel the walls of your cunt clamp down into a tight vise, as wave after wave of bliss fills every square inch of your body.

You barely make more than a quiet gasp- too inebriated on his tongue to even scream. 

He keeps licking you gently, lazily, trembling shudders working through your system until you're forced to tap his shoulder for a reprieve.

Another obscene sound when he pulls away, looking up at you, his mouth and beard shiny with your release.

He puts you back on two feet, but your knees buckle once the full weight of you is on them.

He stands swiftly, arms wrapping around you to pull you to his body keeping you upright, a small grunt leaving him.

You blink, struggling to restart your brain.

You realise his grunt is one of pain, as he tries to hold you up, it's what kickstarts your brain into working.

You grip his biceps, straightening your legs under you and willing them to stay that way.

"Sorry." You whisper, trying to take a deep breath.

"It's alright. If I could, I would have picked you up myself." He whispers back, and you raise your head to look into his eyes.

Something unnameable passes between you, you can't put a finger on it- but it feels like quiet appreciation for each other. 

He helps you to the couch, sitting you down before disappearing into the bathroom.

When he re-emerges, it's with a clean face and a damp washcloth. 

He encourages you down to the car after cleaning you and redressing you. You try to tell him that you're capable- but he won't have it.

He slides into the back of the car beside you, and almost immediately tucks your body against his, pulling your legs over one of his for comfort.

You sag, still fatigued from such a powerful orgasm.

Jesus, was it always going to be like that? All mind-consuming and explosive?

You smile when he kisses your forehead, tilting your head up to let him kiss you softly on the mouth.

Delightful, consuming, everything about him was just so... tantalising, you wanted to spend hours learning him, take days to map every thought in his head, every idea in his heart.

He was a dangerous enigma, a slippery slope.

And you were falling. 

. 

When Frank pulls the door to his house open, he gives you both a very suspicious look.

After a moment, he lets out a long sigh of disappointment.

"You two better not fuck in my house." He threatens.

"How can you even tell?" Billy asks in disbelief, reading into the quiet accusations being made by Frank.

"Isn't it obvious?" Frank asks, opening the door wider to let you in.

"Hi Frank," you say in greeting as you walk past him. He says your name, with a small nod of acknowledgement.

You take a moment to appreciate their house, it's warm and cozy, with lots of baseball trophies lining the mantle over the fireplace. There's a lot of pinks and beiges, a cozy line of couches near the fire.

Before you can do more looking, you hear a woman's voice.

"Is that them?" She asks, spinning into the room.

This must be Maria, you think, as you watch her take Billy into an aggressive hug, giving him a kiss to the cheek before letting him go in a flourish, a look of violation comically painted on his face.

When she turns to you next, you gulp.

She's very pretty, with lovely auburn hair. You notice a large scar curving from the corner of her eye down to the edge of her chin.

You only get a second of awareness before she's taking you into a hold just as violent as the one she'd trapped Billy in. 

You can't help but giggle at her blatant showing of affection.

She says your name in greeting.

"I hear you kneed Frank in the balls. Well done."

You splutter for an excuse.

"I'm sorry-"

"-Don't be," she interjects, "I wished I'd seen it myself."

You smile, looking over to Frank, who is mid-roll of his eyes.

"That'll cost you later, big boy. Come! Dinner is almost ready." Maria says quickly, turning away and you let out a little chuckle in response to Frank's apologetic face. 

"Billyyyyyyyyy." You hear someone shout, and you watch in horror as a small blur begins racing to your husband.

Your mouth opens, subtly stepping in front of him, ready to catch said blur.

Frank beats you to it, grabbing his son under the arms and picking him up for a second before putting him back down.

"Woah there slugger, take it easy on Uncle Billy, he just had surgery." 

You sigh, moving away from Billy so that he can hug his godson in peace. You catch Maria staring at you. You give her a smile of apology before looking away.

"Frank, I want you to meet my wife," Billy says, turning the younger Frank's body in your direction.

You can instantly see the suspicious look on his face.

You tell him your name, extending your hand politely in greeting.

He takes it, shaking your hand politely, it's the best you can hope for, being a stranger in their home.

"You're not a gold digger are you?" Frank Jr. says suddenly.

It's met with lots of scolding from his parents. You can't help laughing at everyone's shocked expressions.

"Where did you even learn that word?" Frank says, exasperated.

"In school." Younger Frank answers honestly.

Billy straightens, gives you an apologetic look.

"She's not with me for my money, junior, I'm with her cause she's sweet." He wraps a hand around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest.

You can't look at him, leaning in and accepting the comfort.

You meet Lisa next, Frank's older daughter, she's polite, but you can also see the accusation in her eyes.

You figure it's nice, that at least there are people looking out for Billy, though, you almost want to shout his crimes so that you stop being treated so abrasively.

Billy had warned you that the Castles could be protective, that they'd like you once they got to know you.

You'd hoped that were true.

.

When Maria asks how you and Billy met during dinner, you both pause in horror as the answer comes to mind.

You let out a long sigh.

"We met a couple of years ago, at a Christmas party, my boyfriend at the time was working at Anvil." You say with a smile.

Maria nods eagerly in understanding. You can see how bad it looks.

"Alright," you say, finally having enough. Your fork clatters onto your plate and you watch Billy turn his head to you in alarm.

"Cards on the table. No, I'm not with him for his money- and I'm not pregnant either if any of you are thinking it. I like him. I like his stupid face and his stupid laugh and I feel safe around him and I never really had that before." You pause for a second, taking a sip of water before continuing.

"Sure, how we met wasn't the best, and how we got married was even worse, but I like him."

Billy reaches over, taking your hand in his, you glance up at him, your stomach tying into knots as you meet his eyes.

"He's my best friend." You finish.

You feel his hand squeeze yours.

Billy leans forward, his other hand cupping your cheek and hiding your mouths from view as he kisses you softly.

The entire table erupts into groans, mostly from both Franks and you can't help laughing into his kiss.

It lightens the mood though, and there's less tension in the air by the time dinner is finished. 

.

Everyone helps with cleaning up, and you find yourself drying dishes next to Maria while the rest of the family clear the table.

"He's not someone we'd ever thought could settle down." Maria murmurs.

You look up at her curiously.

She sees your confused expression and tries to explain.

"He's always just been so focused on himself, there were a lot of bad things about his childhood, and more in the military, and we just never thought he could be in a spot where he could live with someone. He tends to push people away after a while. Even us."

You look down, letting out a long sigh, wondering what you would do if he ever tried to push you away.

Accept it, you guess. What could you really do if he decided he didn’t want you anymore? Nothing.

“But don’t worry.” She interjects, you look up at her, eyes settling on her wicked scar for a second before you look down at your dish, “He likes you, he really does, maybe you did have a rough start, but I have faith in both of you.”

Your mouth pulls into a smile, you thank her for her kind words.

.

You play Jenga with them next, laughing and tickling Billy’s left side affectionately to distract him while he moves.

He grins, his hand remains remarkably steady while you torment him with your fingers. Everyone jeers, encouraging his loss, booing him when he manages to get the block on top of the tower without toppling it.

Your turn is next and you smile happily as you lean forward to make your move. You feel his hand on the small of your back, rubbing affectionately as you pick your piece. He doesn’t try to shake you or cheat like you did while you pull your piece out. The rest of the Castle family boo you in funny ways, and you have this moment of realisation that this is what family feels like.

When you get your wooden brick seated next to Billy’s, he kisses you on the temple, murmuring a ‘Good job, baby.’ into your ear in a low voice that has your body responding eagerly to him.

There’s a look that passes between you, something warm and electric, the silent guarantee that if you were alone right now, you’d be ripping at each other's clothes.

It’s Frank that drops the tower, after Maria whispers something into his ear quietly, and you smile at the way he looks at her in half betrayal and half adoration as everyone cheers for his loss.

You see it, you understand why these people are so important to him, the humanity inside each Castle is a unique thing, that makes the whole family unit just work so easily.

You’re glad to have met them, and you’re also sad when you have to bid them goodbye at the end of the night.

Maria hugs you both, Frank gives you an almost friendly pat on your shoulder. There’s a bittersweetness to it that you’ve barely felt before, a real family that you can be a part of, a promise to reunite soon that sparks hope inside of you.

You leave, hand in hand with Billy, a little bit happier than you were when you first arrived, feeling like you understood your husband just a little bit more.

.

In the car, he lets out a slow breath, tilting his head back. He’s in pain, you realise.

“My scar is starting to hurt.” he confesses, turning his head to look at you.

Your heart squeezes in your chest. 

“We’ll get you home and get some medicine into you, okay?” You say softly, leaning into him, till your nose rubs affectionately against his.

He nods, eyes drooping as he feels your hand move to cup the healing area of his abdomen over his shirt gently. He leans into you, resting his head into the crook of your neck, your other hand moving up to play with his hair.

You feel him sigh in bliss.

.

You tug your heels off so that you have better balance to support him, encouraging him to lean into you a little so that he’s in a little less pain while you get him up to your apartment.

His pain has worsened by the time you sit him in bed and rummage through your cabinet for his medicine. 

You get it to him first, making sure he finishes the glass of water you gave him before you begin taking his shoes off.

“You don’t have to-” He tries to sit up, “I can-” He grunts in pain when he curls forward too much.

You push him back gently, giving him a kiss to his forehead.

“Let me take care of you, yeah?”

You stroke his cheek with the backs of your fingers while you wait for him to respond.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

You tug his shoes off, and then undo his pants, giggling slightly when he struggles to lift his hips to help you.

You can’t help touching him, feeling over his thick thighs as they’re exposed to you. You kiss his happy trail when you see it, giggling when he groans.

“Tease.” He pouts.

You kiss his pout too.

Only after you strip him down to his boxers and carefully check his scar, do you tuck him into bed, moving to dress down for the night too. 

When you struggle for too long with the zipper, you sit on the edge of the bed beside Billy and ask him for help.

He kisses your exposed back when he gets the zip undone.

When you’re finally in your silky PJs, you slide into bed beside him, noticing that he’s still awake, but blinking slowly.

“Are you still in pain?” You ask, tilting your head to observe him.

“No pain.” He answers, “Groggy.”

You sigh in relief, sliding closer to him, till you’re pressed to his side. Your hand slides into his rough one, and you quietly enjoy the feeling of being next to him until he speaks.

“I’ve never had this.” Billy whispers. You raise your head to look at him, noticing how unfocused his eyes are, staring up at the ceiling, blinking slowly, as if to remind himself that he’s still awake.

“The old me would have never confessed to anyone that I was hurting.” 

He turns his head, glassy eyes focusing on you.

“But you… The way you fight for me makes me want to trust you more and more each time.” He swallows, “It’s scary.”

He raises a hand, cups your cheek and you can’t help leaning into him, closing your eyes in hopes that it puts him at ease, that he doesn’t feel stared at while he opens himself up to you.

“No one has ever taken care of me before. Not like you have. You look at me- and I- I mean something. You know?”

You open your eyes then, staring at him for a long moment, finding that your throat has closed up from your abundance of emotion.

“You mean a lot.” You whisper, your hand raising to cup his.

His eyes are glassy, almost on the brink of tears.

“I didn’t know.”

.

You’re in the kitchen making coffee two days after, scarily deep in thought. 

In the quiet of the morning you think about everything that’s happened. From Dominic dumping you to the despair you felt when your annulment request had been denied. You think about it all, and you think about your mother, whose call you had ignored yesterday after walking out of her house when you found out Billy was sick. 

You didn’t know how to approach her, or what you would say when she asked you the question she’d asked before.

Before you can think yourself into a downward spiral, an arm wraps itself around your waist. His hand is broad, spreading over your tummy and leaving warm tingles behind, his touch so comforting that you can’t help but smile and lean into him a little.

“Good morning, Mrs. Russo.” He grumbles softly, letting you know exactly what he thought of waking up alone in bed.

“What can I help you with, Mister Russo?” You tease, smiling as you both sway together.

There’s a moment of silence, filled only with the sounds of your shared breaths as you enjoy the presence of each other.

“I would like you to come back to bed. It’s a Saturday and you haven’t cuddled me for nearly long enough.”

You grin, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah? And what do I get if I come back to bed with you right now?”

He hums, nose pressing against your ear, one hand on your stomach and the other rising up to cup your jaw securely.

“I can think of many imaginative ways to thank you.” He murmurs, the heat of his breath tickling your ear gently.

It’s something you could never even think to dream of.

.

.

.

A/N: Sorry I've been so inactive... bad things have happened, just popping in to post this cause I don't want it to sit in my drafts for any longer.

[nicholasbaudelaire]

Can you fix it?

Starter @werewolfroman

Where: The Edge, Roman's place

When: Any time

Cars were not a particular passion of Nicholas's, and therefore he wasn't particularly interested in his jeep besides ensuring there were no scratches and that the backseat wasn't covered in crumbs. Basically, he kept it pretty. And pretty it was, it's health however was another story.

Like with most things Nicky couldn't understand or found boring, he would hire someone to do it for him. Afterall, the thirty year-old had a housekeeper to maintain a studio loft apartment. In his defence, Nicholas had always kept a rigidly full schedule. Between his duties as an advisor to the pack, his work at the hospital, and socialising Nick had had barely any free time to do things like housework and car maintenance. Now that he had lost his supernatural strength and agility, the man who had lived off of five often greasy or deep fried meals a day and could hunt and run for hours without breaking a sweat, was now on a strict raw vegan diet - a diet he loathed - and working out every opportunity he could get in a bid to do the impossible, overcome his weak almost human state.

As such, he tired more quickly, and so was now driving from his runs, no longer able to lift and run for hours a day without needing a ten hour recovery nap. That day, Nick was driving his jeep wrangler when at some point he realised that steam was coming from the front of the car. Car expert or no car expert, seeing steam coming from the bonnet was a bad sign.

Nick briefly considered driving to the closest auto shop, but was anxious the jeep wouldn't make it. With a reluctant broad shouldered slump, Nick changed direction and began heading toward his fathers place.

He made good time, and arrived at Romans within minutes of making the decision to head to his dads. The wolf eased his tall, but leaner frame out of the jeep, gravel crunching beneath his feet as he shut the car door and looked up at his dad's place. After a year in the UK, Nicholas had grown pale, and the leaner look to his physique combined with the facial hair and wild curls made him look a little unkempt. Nick's previously bright, sometimes outrageous outfits he had worn while with his ex, were replaced plain pants and a sweater. He looked older, leaner, and somehow harder round the edges. Only the baby blues were unchanged. That is until Nicholas familiar booming voice cut across the quiet.

"What's up daddyo?!"

[adelitaflores]

Family Flores; complicada

Starter @santiagoxflores​

Where: Flores estate, Ashmore

When: Late afternoon

With the town wide curfew, most of the fabulous parties hosted at the Flores estate had been cancelled, or rescheduled for another time, a better time. Family dinners, however, barbeques, even brunches were a non-negotiable, and Adelita was grateful for the multitude of rooms and space that the estate held. Every day, there were at least two Flores family members wandering around the estate or spending the house. The home had always been open to kin. Adelita was the High Priestess of the coven and lived at the estate, but she did now own it. The estate belonged to her parents and would be passed onto their her, when they passed, or become incapacitated. Her parents ran the home as Adelita’s grandparents before them, and their grandparents before them. It was always run the same, home to all Flores kin. In a way, Adelita liked it, she liked the tradition of it, but at times... as a woman almost in her forties, it could be... difficult, living in such close quarters with family who could come and go as they please, while she always remained. 

Adelita’s mother had thrown together an impromptu barbeque party, and had given her daughter the kind of look that told Adelita attendance was mandatory. Upon arrival though, Adelita noted that not many family had been able to make it, and in fact it was a very intimate get together. 

The Priestess greeted her parents first, her mother was looming over the staff who were grilling their food, while her father sat by the pool with her uncles drinking and smoking. Then Adelita went to sit on a marble bench, overlooking the sprawling grounds, and was immediately served a glass of her favourite tequila by one of the staff. Her family had clustered into various small groups, and she watched them all socialise. They all appeared so care free and jovial, smiling and laughing. She didn’t feel excluded, only removed somehow. It occurred to the witch that it had been a while since she had indulged in some genuinely carefree, jovial social interactions. Did she even know how to?

A heavy sigh left Adelita’s lips, just as her mother decided to pass by her and she frowned at her daughter. 

“Mija, Que pasa?” The question was not asked in a way that invited Adelita to open up, instead it felt like a reminder to behave. Adelita sat up in response and smiled her perfectly at ease public smile. “Better!” was the response she got. 

“Bruja!” Adelita muttered through smiling, gritted teeth as her mother hurried past her to insist on helping the waiters carry their loads. The relationship with her mother was complicated, but it was loving. Or at least, it appeared so. Sometimes.

[brutalisttarot]

Pick An Image: What’s your vibe?

Pile 1

Your vibe feels freeing, people feel liberated, as if they were to stand beside an angel when they are beside you. Your vibe is also one of being unafraid to express your sexuality and being someone to pave a new path. You guys are creatives or fire starters to grow seeds into blooming flowers and tall plants. You also seem to have a magical touch, as if you create a great impact on what’s previously made to be one of specialty. Your vibe is that you’re a peacemaker, you see the possibilities of many things, your outlook on life is one of opulence and beauty. I also get the vibe that you guys might hide yourself from the spotlight or shy away from fame or even opportunities. People pick up the vibe that you can get overwhelmed and emotionally hurt but keep it to yourself.

Pile 2

Your vibe is one of starting a new era or being fresh in a certain environment or trying something new. You’re seen as reliable off your vibe. People perceive you as a perfectionist, in self-development stages, learning something new that is either chaotic, risky or naive. Depending on what you’re doing. You’re perceived as an individualistic learner, slightly introverted, lone wolf vibes. Some level of exclusivity but not one of isolation like a hermit card would represent. People think that there’s a fierce side to you but you’re very in control in the outside. You’re very emotionally put together. You could work in service line or a career that requires a lot of words spoken politely or well.

Pile 3

People get the vibe that you’re a traveller, someone who moves around a lot. You look like a busy person chasing that bag and moving forward and it feels like a forever trait. People get the vibe that you’re younger than your age, they’d like to think you’re one of a kind, super in your own element, you don’t reveal much of your creative endeavours. You tend to suppress your expressive side, people find it hard to read you. It’s like the lucky ones get to listen to snippets of you disclosing information or speaking. You’re also seen as a peacemaker, or you could just be avoidant of people in large groups, you tend to want to have small groups of close ones who’d give you quality treatment and actually value what you say and do rather than a shallow conformist role of talking to many people at once in large groups.

[brnest]

Im baaaaaaaack. (sorta)

New chapter of His Heart Beats is out! It is short, I know. But I will be releasing more this month (aiming for 5 to make up for my hiatus)

Read here

Summary:

Your neighbor Mr. Fushiguro is positively outrageous. For starters, you have no idea what he looks like, he owns an ancient car you never see him drive, he never pays his rent on time, and there are constant women leaving his house either in tears or rage. But surely the opulence of the neighborhood is well-worth dealing with the sloppy, lecherous, recluse next door, right?

[fionnchristie]

@elora-opulence

Maybe it had been a joke, their suggestion that they run to each other, meet in the middle. But if it had been, then it was a joke Fionn had misunderstood, because he had sprinted to get to her, caught up in the sheer excitement of finding her, like a child or a teenager experiencing feelings for the first time and overwhelmed with them. It was a naivety Fionn had had underlying his personality before, but now it seemed she brought it out more and more each time he saw her, and it brought him unbridled joy, enough to make him want to do anything to see her again.

And so when he finally made it to her, he was out of breath, but the grin on his face was clear even if he couldn't yet vocalise his happiness and he pulled her to him, messy kiss landing right on her lips as Fionn span her around, laughing breathlessly, "I missed you."