#the sentiment is still there so. i love it. *wipes tear*
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thirstyforlulu · 3 days ago
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What about Alucard surprising reader with flowers and reader being deeply moved by his gesture, because it's the first time someone actually made them feel special? <3
Alucard is a very sentimental man
He treasures the moments he spends with you because he knows things could change in an instant
He adores and values you, so much so that he thinks nothing of getting you gifts
You’re his world, of course he would get you things
At first, you adored the little gifts he got you
They were still things that could be seen as gifts between friends, so you didn’t view them that way, but then he got you flowers
One day out of the blue he showed up with a beautiful bouquet
“I saw these during my walk home and they were just so lovely I had to get them for you. Although now that they’re beside you, they seem to pale in comparison,” He said as he handed them to you
The flowers plus his words made it clear what his intentions were, and you were suddenly overwhelmed
Tears began to prick the corners of your eyes, seeing this, he panicked
“Are you alright? You’re not allergic are you?” He asked
“No, it’s just
 this is the first time someone’s ever made me feel
 special,” You explained, wiping your tears away
“Really?” He asked, titling his head “I figured that someone as lovely as you would used to gifts like these.”
Once he learned that, he went all in
You are the most special person in the world to him, and he made it his goal to make sure you feel that way too
He’d get you all sorts of beautiful gifts
And if you ever get tired of the gifts he’ll perform acts of service or take you places
You are the light in his dark existence, and he adores getting to watch you light up
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crustyfloor · 6 months ago
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“My amazing daughter” ❌
Too human, not dystopian enough
“my lovable creature” ✅
Unintentionally objectifying, affectionate in a dystopian way, true to the canon “pet and owner” dynamic most aliens have with their pet-humans, “Aliens can never truly understand humans they are two different species”
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shaisuki · 11 months ago
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SHIT! THAT HURTS, BUT IT'S AN ACCIDENT. RIGHT, SWEETHEART?
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ft. gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, geto suguru
content warnings ─── noncon, dacryphilia, implied kidnapping, punishments, forced affection, choking, stockholm syndrome, blood, forced marriage, delusions.
ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ accidents do happen. that's why you accidentally hit them but thank the heavens above, they understand. it would be easier if you just let them do what they want.
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GOJO SATORU
the accumulated perspiration coming from the deepest end of your dermis shows it appearance as it runs down to your forehead. goosebumps rising as you felt his presence getting nearer. there's no blood lust or the imminent danger that tells your mind to run. accustomed from the conditioning your body had done every time you sense his presence.
your grip on the edge of your book gets tighter as the pages crumple at your very touch. you hoped he's tired or isn't in a bad mood. in that way he would just force you to cuddle him until you fall asleep. one thing you knew with living with him that is he never sleeps or so you think. you didn't know. you never catched him being asleep. it's not like you're going to murder him in cold blood.
you shift in your seat. trying to find a comfortable position despite the weariness growing in you and pretends you're engrossed in your book. you didn't want to send him a message that you're scared of him but you weren't comfortable with him either.
cold palms holds your round cheeks and you were greeted by him smiling. his dimples deepening and he is yet to remove his blindfold. “i'm home, my love.” and he squeezes your cheeks a little hard. anticipating the words that will come flowing out of your mouth. it's a warning. your lips tremble a bit. “w—welcome home, satoru.” you managed to say out aloud and he was satisfied. hooking a finger in his blindfold before pulling it up and discarding it. a sign that his attention is all on you now.
“would you like something to eat?” you asked him. biting your tongue at the question. regretting at your choice of yours and you should have stayed silent. your brain screaming and hoping that he is actually hungry and you're not insinuating that will get him riled up.
gojo chuckles. “you could be so cheeky, mochi.” pinching your round cheek. “you know the answer.” he said and you panic for a brief moment before he takes it back. “as much i'd like to have you for dinner, i prefer us sharing a meal tonight.” you wished this was set on a different timeline. where you would be his from your own will. his good housewife where you will miss him for real and share the sentiments of being together despite busy schedules but it's not. you're still sane and you were just playing pretend.
a quick hot meal and the plates and bowls are already laden with food. you both ate in silence. aside from him spoon feeding you. watched in glee as you ate what he feeds you. your lips around the chopsticks while you chew and hums in delight.
the meal ends when the dishes are stacked in the sink and you told him that you'll take care of it while he takes a bath. he didn't look at you suspiciously. confident in himself that can't run away from him and you knew that too well.
you're almost finished drying the plates when he got out of the shower. never liked staying for too long when you're here. itching to get closer to you every time he's far away from you and he takes a little longer to admire his wife doing the simplest of things. the calmness of your face and your body moving in slow motion. it's almost he was being serenaded with such tranquility coming from you. he almost feels bad when he's the reason sometimes of your tears.
he slowly walks towards you. encasing you in his arms and he feels you stiffen against his touch. body turning rigid while his large hands dwarfs over to your smaller hands. helping you wipe the plate dry until there is nothing left to clean.
“satoru, not tonight. please.” your husband began to kiss you. he likes the word "husband". it brings him joy knowing that he is yours. “why?” he asks. his hard on poking through his gray sweatpants and is pressed to your ass. “i'm not in the mood.” you reason out. holding his wrists in a firm hold. his hands creeping under your blouse. his fingers digging in the plushness of your stomach. “then let's get you in the mood.” he breath out. kissing the side of your head and then to your jaw. his hands kneading the flesh in your stomach like dough. his touch were like fire. scorching and scalding. burning in your skin and causing you pain that you can't measure with.
“please! not tonight!” you snap out in anger. in frustration. sick to your stomach of letting him do whatever he pleases. of pretending that you like whatever he does.
he stops for a moment. listening to your plea and he grabs your shoulder. making you turn around to face him. he cups your jaw and forcing you to look at his eyes. you could stare at those icy blue eyes that looks like spheres where the universe is held forever. instead you loathed it. it's a reminder how vast the world is and here you are, imprisoned and is forced to this man's whims.
your lips are soft against him. he missed kissing you. he's been away for a week and you're here, denying him. he took it as an advantage to wrapped his arms around your waist before hoisting you above. your body beginning to struggle against him but he continued to kiss you until you were both in the bed. placing you down before his body traps you.
“is it because i was rough last week, baby?” his voice laced with concern that it's poison to hear. “no. i just don't want to be with you tonight.” your eyes begins to get heavy with tears. “not now, satoru.” you begged hoping he would stop. gojo grasps your cheek. “i'm sorry if i was rough but i will be gentle tonight.” he assures you but no words can convince you.
then you leave him no choice.
he puts his shin in your thighs preventing movements and lessening your resistance to him and then in a brief flash when your wrist got loose. his cheek started to sting. the crimson liquid seeping in the cracks of his dermis and he smiles. halting his assault to you and relish in the physical pain you put him through. since when did he got injured last? feel the pain of the surface of his body. he fought the strongest of curses. fought with toughest of foes. got stabbed with a blade and shaked the hands of death.
there's infinity protecting him and yet, he can't shield himself from loving you and he's more than willing to accept your touch and harm him in anyways you can.
he watched you as you curl up in a fetal position. protecting your body from him as you sobbed. the first tears rolling down in your cheeks and staining the pillows below you.
this won't stop. you would be always in this position no matter how you resist. you braced yourself for what to come and you were met with nothing. no greedy of his hands touching you and you were relieved. maybe, he gave up for tonight.
how wrong you are. you look at him through blurry eyes and his pale cheeks were colored in his blood. you did it. you inflicted pain in him. you wounded him. you take a gulp of air. calming your erratic heartbeat. not once did it crossed your mind you can harm him. with his infinity and those eyes and the endless power bestowed to him. you could never.
there is a look of animosity behind your eyes that he can see clearly. he's a little hurt aside from the wound. your soft body is sprawled beneath him. sobs racking throughout your body and it hurts him a little to see you crying.
“i thought it will change....” a hiccup interrupted your following words then when you regained your control to speak, you continued. “...my feelings for you. that one day, despite of what you had done. i'll learn to love you...” your fist clenching. your hands making a close-open motion before turning into a fist again. grasping the blanket. “nothing changed, i'm sick of playing house with you. i fucking hate you.” all the madness and you don't think it will reach to him.
a little. he knows how much you despised him. loathed him.
he don't care though. you were still his wife. no matter what you were feeling. be it hatred or fondness that he will never attain. you already hate him, what's the point of caring for your silly, little feelings when he can always make it up to you.
“i know.” he whispers. brushing a lock of your hair and leaning down to press his forehead to yours. his blue eyes staring intently in your eyes, tears at the corner.
alas, it never ends. your tears, your voice and will being taken away. how his hands latching at the lapels of your top. ripping it apart just like how he always do. your pajama shorts following.
bite your lips as he slowly penetrates you. don't make a sound. you tell to yourself. just don't. don't. don't. don't. don't. don't. don'—.
he promises to himself that after this, he would spoil you. buy all your favorite snacks, new clothes, a whole set of the book he knows you really like. he would take the day off to spend the rest of his days pampering you. kiss all the parts where it hurts but now, let him feel you as he kisses the salty streaks of your tears in your cheek. stare at your eyes and search for his reflection. his fingers intertwining at yours and when you squeezed his hands back, he'll convince himself that you really loved him despite all of that.
and it's more than enough.
NANAMI KENTO
you spend your days lounging around. the ankle cuffs weighing heavier than it is. search every cracks and cranny of the penthouse, hoping to entertain yourself and you've found some rather interesting things but it was nothing when you found the key to your freedom.
an old model of a phone. it wasn't damaged at the very least along with a few scratches and a minimal crack in the corner of the screen. you think it was nanami's phone during his high school years but you set aside the thoughts. this was necessary for your freedom.
pressing the key button, you let out a sharp gasp. the device vibrates and beeps with the model's ringtone. every second feels like eternity waiting for it to power up.
the screen lights up. showing you the screensaver and the date and time that was at least a decade ago. you check if there is network and you were graced with a full bar signalling that it was capable of calling someone. you changed the date and time to match with today and to avail the services.
your hands shaking as you tapped the buttons one by one. unaware of the door opening and the footsteps getting closer to where you are. you didn't even think he'd be home this early.
there's a sound akin to a purr when you pressed the button a little longer. it's the last digit of the number of the person you've been itching to call since you've been declared missing. they must be worried sick. your hands shake, getting clammy as you pressed the call button. there's static then the familiar hum of the number being dialed.
dialing.
dialing..
dialing...
“hello?” the familiar voice of your mom at the end of the receiver and your hands tremble. you breathe in and out. steadying your breathing and you want to break in a sob. this is it. someone is going to help you now. a tear falls before you can speak.
“mom! m—.” it happens in a slow motion. his large and warm palm in yours before he pulls the phone away from you. pressing the end call button swiftly and putting it in his pockets. since when? since when did he get back? wasn't he at work?
“give it back!” you yelled, reaching out for him. for his pockets. why did it have to be so close yet so far. “darling, you can't.” he says apologetically. pursing his lips in thin line and he can feel a migraine coming.
“no! stop telling me what to do! i'm so sick of you controlling me!” you almost spat at his face. desperately clawing him to get that device. he holds your shoulder, stopping your advances in him but you kept fighting for it. punching at him with your fists but what are you to the man who was built like a solid rock.
he's patient but sometimes his patience runs thin when things doesn't go in his way. he's already in a sour mood after having to deal with a colleague and you, his supposed to be sweet wife is fighting him. with no choice, he lifts you up. putting you in his shoulders like you were a sack of potatoes.
that didn't hinder you and you were putting up a fight. your freedom was that close and you couldn't let this chance slip. your arms hitting his back and your legs moving. squirming as you try to wrestle your way out from his grip.
“let me go! let me call my mom!” you sniffle. the tears flowing from your cheeks freely staining the back of his shirt. your arms still flailing and with a particular movement. your elbow made contact on his cheek. nanami remains stoic and he knows it will bruise.
you limply slide away from his body when his hold on to you got loose. clutching your arms and watch droplets of your tears fall on the ground. your hiccups were sudden and squeezes your chest with every breath. “i just want to go home.” you whisper.
when will you ever learn?
and why does it hurt him when you cry even when it's your fault. he loves you. a part of his brain tell him. it's an accident. he tells to himself. you were never meant to hurt him and you were just missing your mother. what a pain. you were supposed to be dead in the outside world. now, your existence are known and it would not take long before it spreads about you being alive. perhaps, he can make arrangements regarding to your family members.
he loves you and that's why he only tolerates your misbehaviors but now, he don't think he can put up with this tantrums again. you needed to learn.
nanami kneels down at your level. his hazel eyes warm and gives you the illusion that he'll let go of this but it was unforgiving. he cradles your cheek with his palm. “i'm sorry darling, you need to learn a lesson.”
the blonde sorcerer watch in desire as shiver runs down throughout your body. his fingers tracing the outline of your back where your spine is covered by your supple flesh. normally, nanami would take pleasure in this. watch as you writhe and squirm for him. it's considered therapeutic for him but in the next minutes it would be going to be hard for you.
your face buried in the sheet while your ass is in the air. bare and sore from the previous spanking and it's not enough. you needed to learn. take a lesson in what he's about to do and he's not forgiving at all times.
he rubs his fingers into your clit. flicking and pinching to get you nice and wet for him. although he's strict on prepping you first — stretching you properly with his fingers, tonight it wouldn't be present. he hopes you're already wet before he sinks his cock into you.
you feel him rub his cock to your slit before slowly inserting his cock into your hole. you winced as his large cock forces you to open for him. he's big and it hurts. tears stains the sheets under you as you bit the fabric. muffling your discomfort and the pain that spreads in your sex.
shit, all he can do is grit his teeth while your cunt engulfs his length. he can hear your whimpers and gasps and see the tears spreading in the sheets. he needs to do it or else it'll happen again. he can never let you go or leave him. you will always be forever with him.
when he taught that you're well and adjusted to him, nanami began to piston his hips at a brutal pace. the slam of his hips to yours makes your flesh jiggle and watch it stack in layers and fuck, it's beautiful how your body moves and responds to his every touch. just bare with it. he thinks to himself. he won't last too long from how good you are to him and true to it, he's already spilling his load inside you.
and now he regrets it. your back is pressed against his chest while he rubs the sore spots all over your body. you remained motionless. blinking the tears away and how you flinches away from his touch. remaining quiet and barely acknowledging his presence.
“forgive me, my darling.” he whispers to you. kissing your shoulders in attempt of redeeming himself from being too rough with you. his heart breaks when you ignored him. making yourself smaller in his presence despite being caged in his arms.
sighing, he continues his affections to you. knowing in due time you had your share and you wouldn't want to experience any of it again.
one thing he's sure of. you will never attempt again with his wrongdoings plaguing your mind and it's better. conveniently perfect for him until the next time.
FUSHIGURO TOJI
who thought you could put a fight.
although the damage was minimal, adrenaline pumps in his system. it's clear you were startled and your flight or fight response kicking in, in which you choose the latter to defend yourself.
a huge scratch mark decorating his arm and toji barks a laugh. licking his lips and the scar on the corner of his mouth twitches. it wasn't any different to the marks littering in his back from his artist of a wife. it wasn't bleeding but it stings when the cold air touches his peeled skin.
emerald eyes glimmers in amusement and toji crouches to your sniveling form in the corner of the bed. he cups your round cheek with his hand. “what do you say, princess when you've hurt someone?” he asks. humming to get that answer but you stubbornly avoided his gaze. rubbing your hands in your arms to comfort yourself.
toji clicks his tongue in annoyance. “it looks like you've forgotten your manners, huh?” he grabs your wrist and you pulled it away from him but toji kept his grip tight and bruising. almost crushing your wrist. “need me to teach it to you, sweetheart?” the sorcerer assassin taunts you. you shaked your head and toji sighs. you're going to learn it the hard way.
it's bruising. his hand wrapped around your neck and you see little spots of white in your vision while he drills his cock in your cunt. his other hand in your plush waist using it as a leverage to get deeper in your pussy. “are you really make me say it, you stubborn bitch.”
you can't speak. not when his hand are wrapped in your throat. you can't even make a sound and you stare back at him with tears in your eyes while you squeezed around him. earning a involuntarily moan from the man above you.
he loosens his grip and you took gulps of air before speaking, “i—i'm sorry.” you manage to croak out and toji chuckles. “see, it wasn't that hard to say. you really like being fucked by me before you can learn your lesson. keep it in mind, that me fucking you is second to me killing those monkeys outside.” toji leans down to whisper those words to you. looking at you side ways and watch your expression morphs into something of fear, desire as you moaned around him.
“don't be fucking stubborn to me the next time or you will get worse than this. i won't be forgiving you.” he warns. “understand?”
“yes.” you say nodding.
“good fucking girl.”
GETO SUGURU
you were absolutely mortified. he can see clearly how your lips trembled and the hue of your eyes being clouded with fear. shocked even. he knows you didn't mean it and you barely made a scratch on him.
“come here, sweet girl.” geto calmly called you but you shake your head. taking steps backwards like you were afraid of him. “now.” his voice now assertive and you slowly walk towards him. head hung low from being ashamed of harming your master.
“i—i'm sorry, geto-sama. i didn't mean it.” you drawl out to him and his fingers went to grasp your chin. meeting his gaze and you were nervous just by looking at them.
“i know you don't.” his hands finding your back to rub it. assuring you that it was fine and no harm was done to him and only the feeling of being betrayed that you felt unsafe around him. thinking that he will lash out at you and force you to unimaginable things that he's capable of but curse user is not like that. he values you that much but it doesn't mean you'll get away from it.
“but it is an accident i can't turn a blind eye on. are you scared of me?” he asks. his gaze turning dark as he looks at you straight in the eye.
you remained silent. truth be told, you are. you are scared of him. you've witnessed how he can commit such heinous acts without remorse and you're afraid that you'll upset him and you're going to end up like them. that's what you think but geto is far from that to you.
he noticed how your body trembles. the face of anxiety is visible for him to see and he chuckles to himself, amused. he was just playing with you and the answer is clear in front of him.
he brushes his lips to yours. “do not fear me, sweet girl.” he murmurs. the action enough to topple you in the edge and he hears your heart beating in your rib cage. your breath stuck in your throat and your eyes blown with lust.
“you always can make it up to me.” he says to you before turning his back to you and it was your cue to follow him in his private quarters.
that's why you found yourself bare in front of him. sweat glistening in your skin while you worked to please him. accident or not, you need to make it up for him. a way you can be freed from the burden you are now carrying by bestowing the most of heinous of acts to him. one thing that you promised yourself that you will never lay a hand in him unless he instructs you so.
you just love him so much that you're blind that you are only being exploited for his own gains.
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h3nderyss · 4 months ago
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just a drama - choi seungcheol
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pairing: s.coups x gn!reader . . . masterlist genre: fluff, (slight?) angst word count: 484 a/n: lovely runner made me feel lonely 😞 i've always wanted to watch a drama w someone soo.. why not seungcheol?! i also did not mean to make this a lil angsty but here we are!
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"after everything they've been through they're finally together" your voice was audibly shaking, letting the tears fall as the credits played on the screen of the drama you and seungcheol binged together.
being cuddled in his arms had always been your favourite spot - your home. especially on days like this; binging on kdramas and snacks, just engulfed in each other's company.
"are you crying, love?" you could hear the smile in his soft voice as he tilts his head to look at you.
"how could you not? did we watch the same drama?" you joked a little, trying to lighten the mood but it hadn't worked. you still sobbed and wiped your own tears with the sleeves of (cheol's) hoodie that you wore.
"it's just a drama," cheol exhaled while he spoke in a small voice, sounding like he was convincing you and himself that there was no point in crying. except, he sniffed a little which made you lift your head up from his chest to look at him. he held you tighter. "you are crying!"
"no," he said simply, as he was about to quickly wipe his tears before you got there first.
with a show like lovely runner, it was kind of inevitable to not cry. you brought your sweater paws to cup his cheeks and softly pecked his lips. "baby," you chuckled as you took the time to study his face as his eyes rested on yours.
"have you been crying this whole time during the drama and i just haven't known?" you asked as you hadn't got an answer.
"i cry at all the dramas we watch" he admits catching you by surprise. "cheol," you tilt your head a little looking at him with soft eyes.
"why do you hide it from me?" you smile a little, running a hand through his hair. at this point you both have tear-stained cheeks, consoling one another. "and how are you so good at hiding it?" the smile slowly disappears from your face.
he takes a moment before he replies, "i don't want you to worry about me." this time he smiles, wanting to play off the sentiment his words held.
"it'd make you seem like a robot if you don't cry baby," you joke. "you're so sweet, please don't hide your emotions from me." you peck his lips once more.
he kisses you. "i won't." another kiss, before he hides his face in your neck.
you hold each other in your arms, taking a moment to recover from the emotion you both released; the cause of this being from the kdrama you just finished.
. . .
"cheol," he responds making a muffled "mmm," "do you want to start another drama now?" you suggest, smiling as he pulls away and looks at you, mirroring the smile as he nods.
"okay." he simply says, the both of you smiling like idiots at each other.
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achilles-rage · 3 months ago
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Can’t Hold Back
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summary: the three times you almost jump eddie, and the one time you do.
word count: 3.7k
request: anon- I NEEEED something about reader being obsessed with Eddies moustache, just her wanting to jump him constantly cos she finds it so hot. Sorry I am so obsessed with the stache it’s unhealthy.
a/n: this was longer than i originally intended, but when i was writing the last part, the urge i have to suck the soul out of this man took over and we got this. i kept thinking about the ring pop scene when he tilts his head back okay?? sue me!! anyway, enjoy<3
warnings: smut, tiny comb slander (affectionately<3), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader
MDNI- 18+ only!
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You remember the first time you saw Eddie’s mustache. You were extremely busy with work, so you hadn’t seen him for a couple weeks. When you finally had time to see each other, he invited you over for dinner, and when he opened the door, you weren’t sure what to do. 
He seemed a little nervous to show you, but you quickly reassured him that you liked it. Actually, you fucking loved it, but you felt a little weird about telling him that it made you want to drag him to the bedroom and not come out until the next day.
When he sets down the plate of food in front of you, your mouth waters. With so much newfound free time, he finally forced himself to learn to cook better, and it was definitely paying off. He seems so proud of himself when you take a bite and have to fight back a moan, and as amazing as the food is, you still struggle to finish your plate instead of skipping right to the end of the night.
It doesn’t help that the entire dinner, he’s extremely interested in everything you have to say; excited to finally catch up on everything going on the past few weeks that you insisted you “just had to tell him in person.” 
He’s being so attentive and sweet, and you can’t tear your eyes away from him.
Everytime he touches his mustache, or brings his napkin up to wipe his face, your eyes are glued to his lips. Frankly, you feel a little bit insane for how much you love the new addition to his face. You wonder if he’d be willing to grow a beard as well?
Once dinner is finished, you help him clear the table, and as he rinses the plates in the sink, you lean against the counter beside him. God, he’s even more attractive when he’s not paying attention, you think. He’s rambling on about a call he got the other day at work, and you try to listen intently, but with the way his mouth is moving, every word is pretty much in one ear and out the other.
When he reaches for the dish towel to dry his hands, you move to stand in front of him, slipping your arms around his neck and pulling him against you. Your lips find his quickly, and after he lets out a quiet hum of surprise, his arms are wrapping around your plush middle, keeping you against him as you deepen the kiss.
Just as you start to trail one hand down his chest, desperate to get to his belt, he breaks the kiss. He rests his forehead against yours as he takes in a big breath of air, his eyes sparkling and a big smile on his face. God, he’s missed this.
“I have a surprise.” he tells you softly, as if afraid to disturb the calmness surrounding you two.
“What?” you ask with a grin, although the question begging to fall from your lips is “what the hell could be better than this surprise?” 
“They’re playing your favourite movie at the theatre downtown; some kind of anniversary special. I got us tickets.” he tells you excitedly, giddy to see your reaction. 
Your smile widens, and you laugh quietly before you pull him back in for a kiss. You mumble a “thank you” against his lips, and when you pull away, he’s grinning almost as widely as you are.
“Anything for you, mi amor.” he tells you earnestly, and you feel your cheeks heat up at the sentiment. You’re a little disappointed; all you wanted was to drag him to bed, or the couch, or honestly, the kitchen counter. But, you are excited about being able to see your favourite movie in the theatre, and he’s so proud of himself. You know you can’t do what you’ve been waiting for since he let you into his house, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less excited about going out with Eddie for the night. Your plans will just have to wait.
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You watch with a small smile as Eddie frantically moves around the house, trying to find his wallet and keys so he can get to work. You can see both items from where you’re leaning against the wall near the front door, waiting to see him off. You let him search for a minute before you call his name, and when he turns, his shoulders relax upon setting site on you holding his wallet in one hand, and his keys in the other.
He closes the distance between you and grabs the keys from your hand, then raises his other hand to cup your cheek and bring his lips to your forehead. You close your eyes for a moment as he presses a soft kiss to your skin, wishing he didn’t have to leave so soon.
“What would I do without you, mi amor?” he murmurs fondly when he pulls away. He takes a moment to scan your face, taking in the small smile on your lips, and the sparkle in your eyes, and he silently thanks God that you’re in his life.
“I love you.” he finally says, then drops his hand from your cheek and makes his way toward the front door.
“Forgetting something?” you ask with a smirk when he opens the front door. He turns to you with a confused look, then makes his way back over to you slowly. He pulls you into him by the flesh of your hips, giving you a deep kiss. You feel his mustache tickle your skin, and you smile into the kiss, feeling his panic about being late temporarily melt away as he focuses on you.
When he pulls away, he gives you a wink, then turns again towards the door. You laugh softly as you roll your eyes; is that seriously what he thought he forgot? If he weren’t actually so late, you’d let him get all the way to his truck before you speak up again.
“Eddie,” you say with a laugh, trying to get his attention. “I meant your wallet, but I love where your mind went.” you tease when he turns to you again. His brows are furrowed, and when he sees you still holding his wallet in your hand, you see the redness appear in his cheeks. He covers his slight embarrassment up with a chuckle, then reaches out and takes his wallet. 
“Then I guess I forgot two things.” he says, trying to cover up his mistake with a cocky smirk. You shake your head, the smile stuck on your face as you narrow your eyes. 
He takes the extra time to press another kiss to your lips, this one deeper, and your knees almost buckle when his hand comes up to lightly grip your throat. You try to chase his lips when he pulls back, but he holds your head back with that same smirk etched on his face. 
God, if it weren’t for his shift in 10 minutes, you’d be pushing him over to the couch and sinking to your knees in front of him. How the hell was he able to turn the tables so quickly? One second he’s embarrassed, and the next he has the heat rushing to your cheeks and your heart hammering in your chest.
“I love you.” he tells you again, and you nod, swallowing as you stare into his eyes. Your eyes trail down to the hair above his upper lip, and you lick your lips. How can a mustache be this attractive? All you want to do is keep him home all day and show him just how much you like the new facial hair he’s sporting.
“I love you.” you murmur, and then he’s gone; out the door and in his truck before you can react. Motherfucker, you think, he knows what he’s doing.
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“Eds, have you seen my necklace?” you call from the bedroom. You know you wore it to his house; you remember making sure it was facing the right way last night when you were in his bathroom before dinner. Even so, you’ve looked everywhere, and it’s nowhere to be found.
“It’s in here!” he calls back from his bathroom, and you let out a relieved sigh. The necklace isn’t expensive or sentimental or anything, but it is one of your favourites.
You let out a laugh when you walk into the bathroom, seeing the smallest comb you think you’ve ever seen, looking even smaller in Eddie’s large hands. He turns to you with a frown, his brows furrowed.
“Yeah, keep laughing. I’ll remember this the next time you tell me how much you love how soft it is.” he says with a scoff, a teasing glint in his eyes. You laugh softly, shaking your head as you walk further into the bathroom and grab your necklace off the counter.
He has a point, you guess. You do love how it feels against your skin when his lips are on yours, or when he’s nipping at your neck, or when he’s pressing open mouth kisses to your inner thighs.
You feel desire pooling in your stomach as you think about it, but you try to ignore it as you look at yourself in the mirror and clasp your necklace around your neck. 
You’re very sure that he keeps using the stupid little comb for longer than he should as you stand there fiddling with your necklace. Surely it doesn’t take more than 3 swipes with the comb to do whatever the hell he thinks he’ll accomplish with it.
You can’t help the small laugh that tumbles out of your mouth as you shake your head, trying to snap out of the weird trance Eddie has you in. How can him using a goddamn mini comb be so attractive? It doesn’t help that he’s wearing his LAFD shirt, and it’s just tight enough to show the outline of his chest.
“What?” he asks when your laugh hits his ears. You hum softly, shaking your head as you fight back a smile. 
“Nothing, nothing.” you try to wave him off, finally tearing your attention back to your necklace and securing it around your neck.
He narrows his eyes at you, and you both make eye contact through the mirror, but neither of you say another word. You take a step back as he leans away from the mirror and stands up straight, and you can’t fight the loud giggle you let out when you see that he not only has a tiny comb, but a tiny holder for his tiny comb.
“What the hell is that?” you ask through giggles, and he sighs, rolling his eyes.
“Well, I don’t wanna lose it, do I?” he replies, as if that’s a perfectly reasonable answer.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how important your little comb is.” you tease. Tiny comb and holder aside, he looks incredibly good today. The worst part is, you have a while before either of you have to leave for the day, and you can’t even take advantage of the situation. If you were to throw yourself at him right now, he’d never let you forget that his tiny comb that you made fun of him for couldn’t even stop you from still wanting him.
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You’re at the grocery store with Eddie when you hear a scream from a few aisles over, then a frantic voice yelling for help. You freeze for a moment, your heart rate spiking and your hair standing on end, but when Eddie races out of the aisle and towards the situation, you snap out of it. 
You follow him, cart momentarily forgotten as you jog in the direction Eddie ran in. When you make it to the aisle, you see an older man passed out on the floor, and a woman is standing over him in tears while Eddie checks his pulse. 
You can hardly hear anything when Eddie turns to you, and it’s only when he waves his hand in front of his face that you can hear him. You blink a few times, then reach into your purse with shaky hands to grab your phone and dial 9-1-1 like Eddie asked. 
You kneel beside him and put the phone on speaker, holding it out in front of him so he can speak to the dispatcher. As Eddie continues to assess the man while speaking to the dispatcher, another man kneels down on the other side of the older man, trying to tell Eddie what to do. 
Eddie explains to him that he doesn’t need help calmly, and you’re not sure how he can remain so mellow right now, even if this is his job. Your hands are shaking, and all you’re doing is holding the phone.
The man continues to try to help, doing what you assume is everything wrong, because after a moment, Eddie erupts.
“Back up. You’re making it worse. I’m not gonna let him die because of you.” The man raises his hands in surrender, then slowly stands up and backs up. You watch as Eddie goes back to tending to the man, licking your lips in a desperate attempt to wet your dry lips. 
You feel extremely guilty, but the way Eddie just takes over has you too aware of everything around you. You can feel the thin layer of sweat on your skin from the stress, you can feel your heart beating in your chest, and you can feel the way Eddie’s thigh is touching the outside of yours. This is definitely not the time, but he’s just so smart, so capable.
You finally snap out of it when the paramedics come in, tapping your shoulder gently to urge you to move out of their way. You hang up the phone haphazardly as you stand up, feeling Eddie’s arm wrap around your waist, his hand resting on your hip and pulling you against him as he backs the both of you up to give the paramedics even more room.
You can feel Eddie’s breath on your neck when he leans his head towards you and whispers into your ear.
“Are you okay, baby?” You shiver at the sensation, nodding quickly as you blink a few times. “He’s gonna be okay. He just has low blood sugar, he just needs a glucagon shot.”
He thinks you’re on edge because of the man, and while you are worried about him, you know that Eddie knows what to do, that he’d be able to help him.
You both make your way back to the aisle you were in when you heard the scream and bring your cart up to the front in silence, neither of you remembering that you still have a few more groceries to get.
When you’re finally out of the store and the groceries are in his car, you check around you, smirking to yourself when you see no one in sight. You’re lucky that Eddie parks so far away from the doors; not wanting to risk anyone hitting his car and damaging the paint. You definitely don’t want anyone to see this.
Your lips are on his in an instant, your hands cupping his face as you push him back a step so his back hits the side of his truck. He hums in surprise, then melts into the kiss, raising one hand to your jaw while the other holds you by the waist.
“That was so hot.” you whisper against his lips, your kiss growing sloppy and needy. He chuckles against your lips, then slips his tongue past your lips to explore your mouth, savouring your taste. You can feel his facial hair along your skin, and it makes you shiver. He was right about that stupid comb. His mustache is extremely soft, with just the right amount of scratchiness that makes your head spin.
“Yeah?” he asks in a cocky tone against your lips, barely registering that you’re practically throwing yourself at him in the middle of the grocery store parking lot. You hum softly, nodding as much as you can with your lips glued to his.
The only thing that snaps him out of his daze is your hands moving down to his belt. He pulls back, chest heaving as he looks into your hooded eyes, pupils blown and full of lust.
“I think we should get home before we get arrested.” he teases you softly, and although you know he’s right, the thought of having to wait makes you whine softly.
You part from him reluctantly, then get into the passenger seat while Eddie returns the cart. When he’s back in the car and on the way back to your place, you reach over and place a hand on his thigh, dangerously close to the growing tent in his pants.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks lowly, a playful smirk on his face as he glances over at you, his eyes narrowed. You shrug, humming softly as you drag your nails up and down the fabric of his jeans.
He’s about to respond when you move your hand directly over his cock, growing harder with each passing moment. A strangled gasp escapes his throat, and his grip tightens on the wheel, knuckles white as you slowly palm him through his jeans.
“You’re really asking for it, aren’t you?” he asks, his breathing growing more ragged and his tone changing to one of warning. You bite your lip, a small smile peeking out as you add more pressure, moving your palm against him achingly slowly.
“Just wanna show you how much I love you.” you reply sweetly. He knows he shouldn’t be letting you do this, he has to get you both home safely, but he can’t seem to say the words, or pull your hand away. You know exactly what to do to get him worked up, and right now, he’s cursing that fact.
He lets out a low groan when you reach your other hand over the centre console, now working on undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He keeps his eyes glued to the road, his grip on the wheel as tight as it can be as you pull out his leaking cock. 
You spit into your hand before you grip the base of his cock, pumping him a few times as you watch the way his face twists in pleasure. You can tell he’s torn between wanting you to continue, and knowing you shouldn’t, and that’s what makes it fun. 
He shivers when you ghost your thumb over the tip of his cock, then increase the pace of your movements, pumping him in a way that makes him sure that he won’t be able to stop you even if he tries.
“You think I can get you to cum before we get home?” you ask in a teasing tone, a hint of condescension in your voice that has him fighting hard to keep his eyes open and on the road.
“I know you can.” he mumbles, and you laugh softly, keeping up the pace as you look down at his leaking cock. 
Your mouth waters at the sight, and after a few more pumps, you unbuckle your seatbelt with the other hand, then lean over the centre console and bring the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him greedily. 
He lets out a shuddered moan, and one of his hands comes down to rest on the back of your head. With your mouth and your hand on him, he’s sure he won’t last much longer, especially when the possibility of being caught is looming in the back of his mind.
You hum softly as you taste the bit of precum on your tongue, and he lets out a quiet growl as the vibrations shoot up his spine. He can feel his balls tighten as you take more of him into your mouth, switching between moving further down his cock and giving the tip of his cock soft licks. 
As he pulls onto your street, he cums hard with no warning, making you gag slightly around him as you try to catch all of your release in your mouth. You slow the movements of your hand as you swallow his load, and when you’re sure you’ve gotten it all, you sit back up, a big grin on your face. 
When he finally parks in your driveway, he looks over at you in a daze, a smirk on his face as he takes in your puffy lips. He reaches over with one hand and wipes off a bit of his cum on your chin, then raises his thumb up to your lips. You open your mouth eagerly, licking his thumb clean before you smile again, and he feels his heart hammering in his chest at the sight.
“Told you that was hot.” you tell him, and he chuckles, shaking his head at how proud of yourself you look. And for good reason.
“Almost as hot as that was.” he replies with a cocky smirk, and you lick your lips, feeling the desire pooling between your legs growing with each passing moment. 
“I think we should skip dinner tonight.” Eddie says after a moment of just you two staring at each other. 
Once he’s tucked himself back into his pants, you’re both out of the car in an instant, groceries long forgotten as you both make your way inside, trying and failing to keep your hands to yourself until you’re behind closed doors. 
When you finally get inside, Eddie has you against the wall, pressing hot kisses to your neck as he works to unbutton your jeans. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me.” he whispers against your neck, the hairs of his mustache tickling you as he gives your jeans a firm tug. 
When you finally make it to the bed, you feel overwhelmed with his touch, and his kisses, and his praise, and you’re silently thanking anyone that will listen for making him grow that mustache, stupid comb and all.
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thrillered · 7 months ago
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Spencer at a " Y/N L/N is dead | The funeral roast" pretty pleaseđŸ«¶
(Bonus points if after roasting reader he gets all sentimental and reiterates that he CANNOT live without them or he'll just die on the spot)
"Y/N is dead. | The funeral roast" | Spencer Agnew x Reader
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this was so fun to write! I hope you enjoy it!
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You were sitting in the blue velvet coffin, a bouquet of fake black roses in your hands and tears in your eyes. You were in the middle of shooting your funeral, surrounded by your friends and coworkers as they roasted the hell out of you. Right now Shayne was playing the CEO of converse, crying over who was going to keep them in business now that you were gone. You looked down at your pair of custom smosh platform converse you were wearing that Ian had bought you for your 3 year ‘smoshiversary’. 
Shayne finished his bit, earning claps from throughout the room. You peaked one eye open, looking to see who was going next. Tommy was stepping up to the podium, his signature lace funeral hat on. 
“Friends, coworkers
 those who somehow managed to deal with Y/N, I am here to read the final will of Y/N L/N.” He began, pulling a piece of paper out of his long black leather jacket; a dig at your favorite coat you thrifted. “She left a lot of things for those she loved, I will not be reading those today.” 
You laughed, peeking at the offended looks on everyone's faces. 
“Courtney, Y/N leaves you her sense of humor. There wasn’t much of it but it was stolen from you to begin with.” Courtney gasped while Shayne let out a pfft. He turned his attention to Shayne, “Shayne, everyone knew of the “fake” beef the two of you played up on camera
 so to you she left her 17 pairs of platform converse, this way you don’t have to look up to her
 maybe now you'll see eye to eye.” 
You pulled a hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle the loud cackle that was escaping you. “Well damn.” Shayne sputtered. 
“To Angela Y/N leaves her entire Le Creuset cookware set. Everyone knew you were jealous of it.” 
“Okay that’s not fair, it’s literally all light blue, it's gorgeous!” Angela exclaimed.
“And finally Y/N leaves Spencer her heart
 and yet he’ll still probably ask if she actually loves him.” 
“That's crazy
” You huffed, through fits of laughter. The entire crew clapping and ‘ohhh’ing at Spencer. 
Tommy left the podium, grabbing your knees as he walked by the coffin, knowing you hated it. “I gotcha!” He sneered, making you yelp.
The only person left to speak was Spencer. He was in a full suit and tie, dressed for an actual funeral. He looked really good, you just wanted to stare at him. He approached the podium, a large binder in his hands. 
“In honor of Y/N’s memory I would like to start by going through some of my favorite memories with her in this photo album.” Spencer declared, opening to a middle page of the album. “This is when Y/N and I met.” He turned the binder around, showing a picture from your first day at Smosh. 
Awe’s could be heard around the room. You scrunched your brows, not trusting Spencer to only be nice. “Then I got to know her
” He hesitated, pulling an awkward and tight grin across his face. “Then she passed. That’s my favorite” He showed a picture of you sitting in the coffin, clearly taken today.
“What the fuck?” you asked, “How did you print that so quickly?” 
“The dead don’t talk.” Erin reminded from the seats, earning a middle finger from you. 
“Anyway, time for the eulogy.” Spencer continued, tossing the album away from him, a loud clap echoing in the room as the binder hit the ground. “The world went quiet when Y/N died
 mostly because she couldn’t cackle like a banshee anymore
 frankly? Pretty peaceful.” 
“Oh my god.” Amanda laughed, covering her face.
“I think we can all agree that Y/N was an integral part of this company and an integral part of this cast.” Everyone nodded, Angela pretending to wipe away tears. “I mean.. Who else is gonna be worse Courtney? Or shorter Amanda? Or Taller Angela? Or less clever Arasha? Or Shayne if he was a lady barista who wanted to be a skater?” 
“Jesus Christ man.” Shayne said, shaking his head in confusion.
“He’s not wrong.” Courtney agreed, putting a hand on Shayne’s shoulder.
“But things will never be the same without her. I am reminded of her constantly
 mostly because her hair is everywhere. I don’t know how she still has hair, she literally sheds like a husky; whines like one too.” 
You were shaking your head, holding in a laugh, not wanting to give Spencer the win of your laughter. 
“But seriously, I love you Y/N. I don’t know what I would do without you, I think I would actually die. Please don’t make me sleep on the couch tonight.” Spencer admitted, making eye contact with you, a smile on his face. “You mean the world to me.” 
Spencer sat down. You waited a dramatic few seconds before sucking in a large breath of air, pretending to wake from the dead. “How long was I out for?” you asked, making everyone laugh. “That was some
 nice?... things you guys said about me, thanks guys.” 
“Luckily I just came from hell so I can handle the heat
 I wonder if you guys will do the same,” you smirked, pulling a folded piece of paper out of your bra, unfolding it and reading it aloud, “Call me sometime, satan? Oops, wrong paper!” You joked, tucking the paper away. 
“Man what the hell?” Spencer asked.
“Well that's where she was apparently.” Shayne reminded, making himself laugh. 
“Okay this is the right one,” You began, unfolding a larger paper. “Tommy
 ur gay. Courtney
 ur gay. Shayne
.” You stopped, staring at him for a moment before simply moving on. “Angela
 me and your mom genuinely text, and I want you to think about that.” 
“That’s actually devastating.” Shayne cackled.
“Amanda
 we need to hang out more.” You insisted. “But maybe just at my house, I’m tired of having to climb a beanstalk to come see you” You joked, turning Amanda's sly grin into a face of shock. “Erin
 Erin Erin Erin
.I lied when I said I lost that blue shirt I borrowed
 I still have it and wear it regularly.” You admitted. “And you’re not getting it back.” 
“You bitch!” Erin gasped, disgust crossing her features as you blew her a kiss. 
“Last.. and least!” You emphasized, “Spencer.. My best friend, my boyfriend, and my other half
 if I’m gone you’re a glass half empty. If you’re gone, I’m a glass half full.” You informed. “That’s all to say: You’re Y/N L/N’s boyfriend, and that’s your most impressive accomplishment.”
Everyone laughed, teasing Spencer with an eruption of ‘ooh’s and agreements. 
“Seriously though, I love you all so much. Honestly the specificity of each roast made me really happy, you guys really know me and that means a lot to me.” You smiled, looking around the room to each and every one of your closest friends. “And a special thank you to Spencer for loving me, even through all the quirks and flaws that were mentioned here, I love you.” You finished, suddenly pretending to have a hard time breathing before collapsing into dead weight. Then quickly waking back up, “You’re still sleeping on the couch though.” You noted, staying ‘dead’ this time.
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egglain · 3 months ago
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Go Ahead & Cry (I’d Wipe Away All Your Tears)
incl.: nanami, choso, toji, gojo, geto, sukuna
summary: for a group of men who kill for a living, they’re awfully sweet
 most of the time. AKA: how the jjk men comfort you
a/n: ngl i’m writing this bc i’m finally processing the US election results & i just
 can’t deal. my heart goes out to all of you. pls take care of yourselves & enjoy the drabbles đŸ«¶
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Nanami
Nanami would be the first to notice something is off.
Whether you’re both at home and you’re just a bit too quiet, or he hasn’t heard from you by his lunch break while at work, something is distinctly off.
He wouldn’t be the nosy type, or the type to press. He’d bring home a sweet treat and a sentimental good (a potted flower, a stuffed animal, something that reminded him of you) without a word.
He wouldn’t pity you; far from it. And he’d never want to make you feel like that. So he’d leave the gifts on the coffee table and greet you with a kiss to the forehead, like always.
He’d sit in silence with you as if nothing was awry— allow you to feel your emotions. He’d put on a movie you like, something mindless and upbeat, without asking. Drag you to his chest and hold you there, keeping you warm and grounded in his touch.
If the waterworks start up, he’d rub your back with a large hand and press kisses to the part of your hair.
“That’s it. Get it out. I know.”
Choso
Choso is either too emotionally in-tune or completely clueless until the tears start.
But when he knows you’re upset, he feels it too.
He gets it wrong a lot of the time, at the beginning— tries to pry the cause out of you so he can minimize it. In his defence, he does it with good intentions; tries to help you see that the perceived threat is small in the greater scheme of things, that everything will work out.
But when the tears start welling, he knows he’s fucked up.
And god, is he so sweet trying to fix things.
“So sorry—“
He’d kiss the salty tears off your cheeks without hesitation.
“How do I make it stop?”
His bleeding heart is his biggest weakness and his greatest strength.
You wouldn’t have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, as he tries to make things up to you. Cooking (though he burns the bottom of the pan), cleaning (though he spills the food and has to clean again), and cuddles would be the itinerary.
Though he loves to be little spoon, he’d let you rest in his arms as long as you need it. And once you find a spot in his arms, he wouldn’t dare move.
Toji
Toji is not great with words. Or gifts. Or quality time, really.
Despite his best intentions, he always manages to fuck it up somehow. Usually by minimizing your feelings with a “what now?” or a “‘s not a big deal.” or a “nothin’ to cry over.”
It’s not his fault you cry over the little things & that you look so cute doing it. Those fat tears and reddened cheeks scratch the sadistic part of his brain so good.
That being said, he’s learned what you like over the years. Even stopped scoffing when he senses you’re feeling down.
No, he’s developed a plan.
At the first signs of distress (he’s gotten really good at recognizing these), he’s got you in his arms. If he’s at work, you better bet he’s speeding things up and hauling his ass back.
He wrestles you into his big clothes; don’t even think about fighting him on this. He wants you comfy and cozy. He’d be setting you up on the couch, dragging the comforter down from the bedroom to wrap you up. He’d sit there with you for hours, massaging your feet or calves and ordering food in. Your favourite fast food— and a whole lotta ice cream.
Don’t take advantage of his kindness though; he’s still Toji. Any snide comments, and he’d be quick to snap back.
“Shut up n’ let me take care of ya.”
Gojo
Gojo’s a little
 misguided when cheering people up most of the time. That is, unless you find his goofy antics comforting.
He’s known for draping himself over shoulders obnoxiously, pinching and pulling cheeks, and light jabs that crack (only) him up.
When that doesn’t work, it’s a quick fix— thanks to the seemingly unending pit of his black card.
Gojo Satoru, at his core, is a gift giver.
Nothing pleases him more than sharing things with you that he thinks will bring you joy— whether that’s an expensive physical present or a luxurious vacation abroad.
He’s wrapped around your little fingers and a sniffle would have him buckling at the knees and fumbling for his wallet.
While this might look like a cop out— a way to get out of emotional intelligence duty— it’s just one part of his approach. The man is actually quite sensitive and understanding once you dig beneath the layers of persona. And he can be surprisingly mature— though he’d never want to show that side to most of the world.
He’d always listen to your yapping, validating your feelings— he’d take your side always. And he is a pro at shit-talking. At the end of it, you always come out feeling a little bit better. A little bit stronger.
You are the strongest together, after all.
Geto
Suguru is a problem-solver.
He’d sit and motion for you to lay your head on his thighs. Long elegant fingers would make gentle work of your roots and scalp, and the tension would be melting away. When you’re relaxed enough to breathe, he’d want to hear all the venting.
“Now do you want solutions or just my ear?”
He’s your rock; always puts things into perspective if you ask. He’s always got advice— though sometimes clouded by bias. Still, it’s nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of. Someone who actually listens.
Understands.
The flipside, however, is the darkness you find in him. He understands what to do because he’s hurt too. You can see it in the way he carries himself, in the bags under his eyes and the shake of his hands on the bad days.
But you care for him like he cares for you— braid his hair back, let him talk it out, gift whatever advice you can muster.
And as soon as you’re both feeling better, you’d be getting crĂȘpes with the girls.
Sukuna
The King of Curses does not understand human sadness.
Perhaps he had empathy for it, centuries ago, before he became the Two-faced Spectre.
But now, seeing you upset, all he can think of is how pathetic tears look in reddened eyes.
He’d wipe them away with a big thumb, clicking his tongue.
“Unsightly, pathetic little thing.”
Yet, the way he speaks down to you holds a softness. A protective nature he rarely gives voice to.
He’d treat you like a porcelain doll; a prized possession. No measure was inconvenient when it came to appeasing you— though he’d be quick to reprimand entitlement. And vehemently deny any sort of feeling towards you.
When the tears come, he’d be signalling for Uraume to draw a bath and cook your favourite. You’d find your room tidied, trinkets left on the foot of your bed as if dragged in by a wild animal— an ornate dagger, gold jewellery, incense.
He wasn’t one to demonstrate affection— but he’d keep you close on the tough days. Whether it be making a seat for you on one of his hulking thighs or allowing you to sleep in his quarters, he’d allow you to do as you please.
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feyascorner · 1 year ago
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okay first of all i ADORE ur writing
 wanna take a bite out of it..
anyway
 uh
 can i uhh
 order a uhh
. astarion x tav.. and like..tav has a fucking insane pain tolerance and always has.. and like
 uhh
 one time she gets fucking TOTALED in a fight and like obvi it would hurt
 and shes like crying subconsciously.. and when some1 points it out shes like “what???? why am i crying wtf???” and like looks down and is just fucking BLEEDING
 n then.. astarion comfort

only if u want thoo!!!!
a/n. Im like the exact opposite I'm very dramatic about the slightest pain but this is such a cute request so Ty!! ALSO PLS EXCUSE IF THIS IS A LITTLE CLUNKY I HAD TO TYPE THIS OUT W MY FINGERSđŸ« đŸ« 
Astarion is grateful for your tolerance to pain.
Of course, he doesn't particularly enjoy watching you in pain, but he’s no fool. He knows the sting and the soreness that comes after he drinks from your neck. Well, at least, it should sting. However, it never seemed to bother you, and for that, he's forever grateful for it.
These strange sentiments expand past his thirst for blood, as the relief he feels when you’re battered up after a battle and you smile at him as if nothing’s wrong is incomparable to any other feeling he’s felt.
That relief does not come currently, however.
The battle was nearly hopeless. Overwhelmed in number, mages casting counterspell, fighters constantly aiming at you
he’s lost track of it all. By some miracle you and your companions stand victorious, and when he sees that you offer Karlach a lopsided smile, confirming that you're fine, he reaches to pick up one of his daggers.
“Tav—what in the hells, are you okay?”
It’s then that he spots the way your lip quivers and tears glisten threateningly at your eyes. And when you meet his own, they begin to drip down your cheeks like crystals and roll off your chin. He's seen you in tears before, but out of something more positive—not from pain. Before he can even tell what he's doing, he's rushing toward you.
“Why are you—” he sees the blood seeping from your stomach, and his face would've gone pale if he could.
You finally lift your hands to your face, eyes wide when your fingertips brush against the dampness of your cheeks. “Oh. Why am I?
”
Shadowheart scrambles to scrimmage around her bag. “Here, let me—gods, where did I—did we use all the healing potions?—”
“Oh for hells sake. Because you're bleeding!” Astarion hisses, his hand intertwining with yours as he drags you toward the nearest tree where he sits you down. He freezes when you flinch but you shake your head, wiping at your eyes. Your other companions are still searching the enemy corpses for anything that might relieve you of the pain, but they're taking far too long for his liking.
“I’m okay, it doesn't really hurt that much.”
“You’re crying.”
“I didn't even know I was-” you wince.
His eyes narrow. “Lay down.”
“What? No, I’m really fine!”
“Gods, love, please for once, listen to me. It’s quite straining to watch you clamber around with that ghastly wound on your stomach.”
You frown, but he guides you down anyway, careful to lay down your head against the grass. “Now wait patiently. Maybe if we’re lucky, our dear friends will find a potion before I start developing wrinkles.”
A momentary silence hangs in the air. It’s by no means uncomfortable, but there are words on the tip of his tongue he wishes to say. And when he notices you staring, he sighs.
“If you're hurt, tell us. I don't care how high your pain tolerance is—if you're hurt, call us. Call me. Don't be a fool and bleed out over a few enemies when we’ve been through so much worse.”
The sincerity in his voice is almost embarrassing. But with the way you're watching him so seriously, he can't bring himself to dwell on such irrelevant factors.
Then, you smile again, as if you've forgotten about the pain. “How minor can the pain be for me to call you?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Can I call you when I stub a toe?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I will.”
He stares at you with lidded eyes and you laugh. He feels the weight on his shoulders get a bit lighter.
“You may call for me whenever you wish.”
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quarterlifekitty · 2 months ago
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Hi! Sorry, I've been lurking on your blog and your König characterizations are *chef's kiss* and I was wondering if you would feel comfortable writing a König or Nikto where the reader goes missing and they have to go find them.
Thank you! May your pillows be cold and blankets warm!
I’m very new to Nikto! Of course he’s kind of open ended as an operator, so I’m kinda building up my image of him. Hope this is ok!
cw: graphic violence
Nikto has not told you that he loves you, and he was not planning on ever telling you. To be fair, he hadn’t ever planned on loving you, either.
But then you vanish from the battlefield the way you do. As if you’d never been there. Barely even leaving any footprints in the dust.
That was okay. He was used to working to get at you anyways. You liked to tease. That’s what this would turn out to be, wouldn’t it? Just a game. He would find you, win, bend you over and fuck you for the rest of the day, and everything would be normal.
Those are his thoughts for the first 5 minutes, anyways.
He starts kicking open doors. Far from careful, but he doesn’t have time or delicacy on his side. He never has and never will. Especially with you. God. His head is on a swivel, desperate to find something amiss. Anything that will lead the ugly bloodhound on a trail. The drops of blood show him that you must still be alive. He would resign himself to being bound on a rock, pecked asunder by birds, if it meant you would be safe. But no, he doesn’t love you.
When you lift your head for him to see you, you meet his gaze with one eye. The generous split in your brow weeps with blood that drips down in a steady flow, irritating your eye. It beads up on your lash like a tear of garnet.
The “waiting right next to the door in ambush” ploy. Often attempted, rarely executed successfully. A knife lands in the hollow of his throat as your other two captors are shot in quick succession, one in the chest and another in the kneecap. Nikto approaches the squirming vermin as he writhes on the floor, smearing blood and clutching himself. Nikto puts his entire weight into stomping on the man’s other ankle, making the howls of pain that much louder as the bones cracks under an unforgiving sole. Like a prince he kneels for you, slicing at the ropes binding your wrists.
“You are not to die. We won’t have you leaving.” The us remains unspoken at the end of the sentiment. He pulls you to your feet and wipes the blood from your face with his thumbs. You don’t see the way he frowns at the sight of the dark coloring forming around your eyes. “Glaza yenota,” he remarks with the sting of a curse on his tongue.
A bullet is delivered to the skull of your remaining captor. He had planned on interrogating, but he doesn’t seem to have the time for that just now. Nikto finds comfort in the way the wails of pain echo as he takes your hand to lead you, swaying, from the dusty building.
“There are things we haven’t
. You will live,” he affirms, prayer making a home in the back of his throat. “This isn’t it.”
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yurinaa-world · 9 months ago
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hii, may i send in a request for Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine and Sunday with platonic headcanons of them maybe with their child who has a severe illness? Like how would they look after them/attend to them.
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đ’žđ’œđ’¶đ“‡đ’¶đ’žđ“‰đ‘’đ“‡đ“ˆ: Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine & Sunday !Platonic x Gender-neutral Reader
đ’źđ“Žđ“ƒđ‘œđ“…đ“ˆđ’Ÿđ“ˆ: with a reader who has a severe illness + how would they look after you
đ’Čđ’¶đ“‡đ“ƒđ’Ÿđ“ƒđ‘”đ“ˆ: angst to sort of comfort?, spelling mistakes,
đ’©đ‘œđ“‰đ‘’đ“ˆ: I'm sooo jetlagged rn
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đ”đ“đ’¶đ’č𝑒
Death can come in seconds with a person even realizing but you do anything since it’s already too late. It’s the same in the end, you cry, give flowers since regret means more than gratitude ever could; then just leave and never look back.
Does it have to be the same? Not for you. He'll care even when no one else will, he’ll stay and listen to you cry, even if it’s a childish thing like wanting to see the world instead of being stuck in this awful room with wires attached to your body.
He visits when he can–which is when he’s not on missions–when he isn’t he stays with you most of the time, showing up with bags of gifts but what’s the use if you’re paralyzed, too tired to move yet not enough to finally sleep–at least to be free for a couple of hours of pain–So the gifts are open and sit around your room to make the room look alive.
He ends up sitting with you in silence, watching if your heart rate went up or anything that has drastically changed in your health. He holds your hand and wipes your tears since you always cry since you can barely sleep and your eyes are just so tired that you can’t anymore.
The scarce days that you can even sit up in your bed and gaze outside your window while looking at all the gift blades’ gotten you over the several months you’ve been unable to do anything. Yet now you're still weak and the quick recovery will change to worse in a couple of hours.
đ’„đ’Ÿđ“ƒđ‘” đ’Žđ“Šđ’¶đ“ƒ
He’s sentimental with you, just watching your face contort into pain as a fit of terrible coughs leaves your throat leaving it burning more than before. It was a complete never-ending nightmare for you until you finally were to be freed when you took your final breath of air.
He tries to bring an upbeat attitude to you, listening to you with contempt about whatever you may be talking about, like your dreams, goals, and wishes; maybe a chance to see life outside of this miserable room–yet deep down no one thinks you will.
He loves to bring you sweets–you can’t eat because most of the time you're bedridden–and toys–you can't play with. It's the duty of the general to make sure every citizen is safe and you mean the same to him even if you are sick–and dying.
You’re his child that's all that matters to him. The fake people's pity along with the whispers and disgusting assumptions. He hates it, he hates what they say is the truth–Since in the end, you’re the one dying, right? So what’s wrong with saying what everyone knows is going to happen.
đ’œđ“‹đ‘’đ“ƒđ“‰đ“Šđ“‡đ’Ÿđ“ƒđ‘’
Everyone comes to Pencony to have fun and let their dreams become reality yet you’re the pitiful one who must be stuck in your room all day whilst Aventurine is out and about having “fun” you can't help but be a little envious of him,  yet you are love more than anything by and you’ll wait for his return as you’ve always have done.
Watching the lights from below your window along with the sounds of everyone having so much—you cut the sounds out since your body is a rotting corpse lying there.
But it’s not that bad!! Aventurine splurges on you whenever he can and wants!! Even if your room is filled with stuffed animals, util your room can’t handle all the stuffed animals, then he’ll get you a bigger room!! He just wants you to feel included in any way he can. Even playing board games with you, or even it’s patty cake.
Your dream is to be like other people. To be a “normal” kid since dreams will only ever be dreams and never be anything good for the hopeful.
𝒼𝓊𝓃đ’čđ’¶đ“Ž
You’re the child of the great oak family, a prized child even with ruined lungs, hoarse throat and weak rotting body, you’re still his child, the only reason he does the things he does is for your sake.
He always reads you bedtime stories no matter if it is the 100th time reading the same one or the first, your wish is his command. Even if it’s reading you a lullaby no matter how bashful and embarrassed he feels he’ll still do what ask just to see a bright smile on your face.
It’s okay, don’t cry, it's only just a couple of needles. The pain will go away in a second, you can handle it, right? That’s what he always tells you. Comforting you is the most important thing, you’re his everything, watching you cry or whimper at the face, needles, nightmares or anything else then he’ll do anything for you.
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if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!
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leonw4nter · 10 months ago
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A Dinner For Three
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Husband!DI!Leon x F!reader
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“Honey, it’s time for dinner. Time to get up,” your husband’s soothing voice gently tugs you away from the prying hands of a deep sleep. You slowly drift back into consciousness but you don’t open your eyes just yet, trying to linger in the border between sleep and the waking state for just a little longer. His calloused yet careful hands gently brush the strands of hair that veiled your eyes and nose away before moving to rake his fingers through your hair, trying to get you to finally get up and join him for a meal. You feel the couch dip around your waist area, prompting your lids to lift open. Your drowsy gaze falls on Leon who is now sitting beside you, a large hand placed on your leg as he gives it gentle squeezes in the way he knows you like while a pleased grin curls the tips of his lips skyward.
“Can’t I have dinner later? I still wanna sleep,” you drowsily mumble as you scratch at your arm, a little itch bugging you.
“I made you kimchi fried rice with two fried eggs and some boneless fried chicken with snow cheese,” he responds in an encouraging tone as he takes your hand and presses a kiss to the back of your hand.
At the mention of these meals, your mouth watered and you shot up. Well, as much as you can sit up with an eight-month old baby bump and the world suddenly spinning at the sudden movement of your body. Leon rushes to be closer with you, helping you sit up as he scans your face and body. He knew that you easily get dizzy now that you’re eight months into the pregnancy so he made sure to move you as slowly and carefully as possible so as not to trigger your nausea, helping you sit up while propping up some pillows behind you to give you time to regain your bearings before fully standing up.
“Someone got a little too excited,” he chuckles as he helps you sit up and recline into the pillows he placed behind your back. “Thought you wanted to sleep a little more.”
“Not when there’s a promise of fried rice, egg, and chicken,” you weakly chuckle while caressing your bump as you try to get your vision to stop spinning. Leon stayed by your side, observing you if you needed anything. After asking and then confirming that you didn’t need anything from him, he got up and walked over to the dining room. A few minutes later, he came back with placemats to place on the coffee table in front of you. He decided to bring along plates of dinner with the utensils to you, not wanting to make things more difficult or tiresome. Dinner was still steaming and the delectable aroma wafted through the air, your stomach grumbling in response to the feast in front of you. Tears sprung to your eyes, unable to hold back on the strong emotions brought about by raging hormones. A soft sniffle and a faint ‘aw’ catches Leon’s attention, turning his head to you. He quickly puts the plates he brought down, moving towards you and kneeling in order to look at you. His hand wipes a tear from your eye, a tender smile of his own playing on his lips though he looks worried.
“Something wrong?” he softly asks. “Why’re you crying?”
He moves in towards you, enveloping you in a delicate hug as he carefully sways you back and forth while he rests his head on your chest, his ears picking up the faint beats of your heart.
“Sorry,” you apologize. “My emotions are just
 everywhere. I’m like– really hungry, happy, sentimental, and- and the fact that you moved dinner here instead of making me walk t-to the dining room– and also because I love you so much and you love me too,” you rambled with a sniffle in between.
He pulled back and peppered your tear-streaked face with kisses, his prickly stubble brushing against your cheek with each kiss planted before taking his time to admire his glowing wife, wondering what the hell he did in his past lives to deserve someone like you. “Must’ve stolen from the rich and given to the poor to have the greatest wealth in the form of her love,” Leon thinks to himself.
“I love you too, sweetheart. Very much,” he quietly tells you as he presses your foreheads together. “So, how about we have dinner now?”
You nod enthusiastically, smiling and chuckling as he helps you get down from the couch and into the floor, the ground beneath you lined with a soft towel laid on a pillow. He also got another pillow from the couch, placing it behind your back so you can recline and ease the weight you’re carrying. He gently rubs and presses on your lower back, letting you move into a much more comfortable position for eating. He takes your plate and adds in food, occasionally looking towards you as a way to silently ask if the servings he plated is enough already. You nod and take the plate from his hands, only to add in a few more servings to your plate as an excited gleam sparkles in your eyes. He chuckles and fills his own plate, his gaze occasionally flitting towards you. He takes his own spoonful of rice but not without shamelessly gawking at his wife sitting beside him; the way she lets out little happy squeals and does a pleased little dance is a sight he could watch forever. With each savory bite of the meal she so enjoys, Leon realizes that his life is similar to the dish in some form– a blend of different flavors, textures, experiences, and emotions elicited that led him up to this pure moment.
It occurs to him that this is their first dinner in their new home, having moved out of an old duplex due to safety concerns. The inside of their home is still unfurnished, boxes full and empty in every nook and cranny; the rooms would be void if not for basic furniture like chairs, tables, and their shared bed in the bedroom. This dinner would be their first and hopefully not the last to come in the years that this house will serve as a shelter to Leon’s family. He smiles at the realization, looking to his right to see his wife coming back for more. It warmed his heart to see how something simple and mundane like a warm meal satisfied you, your eyes all dewy and your soul satisfied by the good food. He couldn’t help but inch closer to you, bringing a hand to your growing bump and gently patting it.
“I’m glad you’re eating well, hon.” he softly whispers. “I’m happy that the little one is eating well too. I’ll continue to cook good food to keep you and our child happy, my dearest. Even when our baby grows up, I’ll continue to make sure everyone’s happy with the food they’ll be eating.”
You turn to him and grin, cheeks puffed up and full of rice and chicken. Even in this state, when you look funny and maybe even a little disheveled with your hair sticking out in all directions, he still looks at you like you’re the most marvelous view he’s ever had the chance of stumbling across. He opens his mouth as you move a spoonful of fried rice towards him, closing his lips around the spoon with a pleased hum.
“I know I look gorgeous, Leon, but you gotta get some bites in. Continue staring later,” you sweetly tell him.
He can’t wait for the moment when he’ll be able to do the good ‘ol “here comes the airplane” feeding trick for his baby.
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NOTE - Will make note pretty short coz I'm eepy and wanna go to bed :)) Grades tomorrow morning, very terrified hopefully my grades aren't super low👍This fic was not proofread and was done in a cafe while waiting for my ride (finally understand the appeal of doing work in cafes; felt smart). EDIT: It's now the morning after I uploaded this and I decided to fix some things coz I feel like something was lacking and turns out I forgot to give credits, so I added that one right away. I'll try to write something a lot longer soon because my fics have been short lately 😭😭 I also watched a few clips of 'Welcome To Raccoon City' and now it's one of my comfort crappy movies. Like it's bad and that makes it GOOD. Anyways, thank you for reading my fics, I appreciate it very much :)) I <33333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!! The heart dividers were made by @firefly-graphics , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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adamsrcnan · 2 months ago
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I was thinking about how Jean has probably never heard the words "i love you" said to him before, or at least maybe not in a very long time (the only person i could think of who would have said it is Elodie)
So then I started thinking what if Jean has such a visceral reaction to hearing it from Jeremy for the first time that it actually makes him cry. Even more so because when Jeremy does say it, it kind of just slips out soft and gentle and so casually.
So like one day what if they're just sitting on Jean's bed making out very soft and sweetly. Jeremy smiles against Jean's lips and the words are out before he can really think about it. It's more like a breathy sigh, an exhalation of a confession that Jeremy doesn't even hesitate to reveal. But Jean freezes regardless. Jeremy pulls back instantly to find Jean staring at him a little lost, wild look in his eyes.
So very quietly, Jean asks, "What did you just say?"
Jeremy smiles lazily at him, more than happy to repeat the sentiment. "I said, I love you."
Jean swallows hard and clenches his eyes shut, holding tight to Jeremy's shirt he thinks 'This is a dream. I'll wake up. It'll just be another day and this is just another unrealistic impossible dream'. But when he opens his eyes Jeremy is still there in front of him, except now his mouth is turned down and there's a pinch between his brows.
"Jean? Something wrong?" he asks.
Jean shakes his head, his breath stuttering as he asks, again, "What did you say?" This time it sounds little more strangled and it feels like his throat is slowly closing up. Jeremy's so close and Jean is suddenly so hyper aware of every part of him - his warm tanned skin, his freckles, his soft t-shirt and shorts, his bare feet and ankles crossed in front of him, his messy hair, the shell necklace around his throat.
Jeremy's confused now as he repeats his words, "I asked if something is wrong."
Jean's grey eyes search his brown ones, frantically, desperately. "N-no. Before that," he chokes out.
"That I love you?" Jeremy says again. And Jean thinks, there's no air left. There's no air left in his lungs. How is he saying those words? Like that? Like it's easy.
It takes Jeremy a second to connect the dots between Jean's questioning and his now obvious slow decline into distress. But something shifts in his eyes and he says it again. "I love you, Jean."
Jean's breath hitches in his throat and his heart is now pounding mercilessly under his chest. There's something growing inside him. Something familiar and scary, that usually he'd grab hold of and rip out like a tenacious stubborn weed, so it can't grow back.
But it does.
And this thing inside him, this particular thing, he suspects has been burrowing itself down, digging roots deep into him for a while. So much so that he's not sure he can ever pull it out now. Or that he'll need to.
Then something wet drips down his chin, and it's only when Jeremy reaches up with hesitating fingers to swipe across his cheek that he realises he's crying. His eyes slip closed and he feels Jeremy move closer as he tries and fails to wipe Jean's unrelenting tears that keep spilling down his cheeks. It's as bad as when Cat makes him cut up onions. It just won't stop.
"Hey, hey what's wrong? Should I not have said it? I'm sorry. It just slipped out I won't say it again if-"
This thing growing inside him, whatever it is, bends towards Jeremy's voice like a flower in the sun.
"No," Jean chokes out, cutting Jeremy off. "Say it again. Please." The last word whispered, the sound torn desperately from his lips like a prayer.
Jeremy's quiet before he leans forward and presses his forehead to Jean's. His breath hitting Jean's cheek, he says "I love you." He kisses Jean's forehead. "I love you." Then his cheeks "I love you. I love you." His nose. "I love you." His temples. "I love you." He pauses at Jean's mouth and Jean tilts his own chin up so their lips are just brushing. His breath is still shaky, but each declaration from Jeremy is like a mouthful of air.
Jeremy says so quietly, only for the two of them to hear, "I love you, Jean Moreau." Then Jean is pressing their lips together, with a renewed burst of something. He kisses Jeremy fierce and deep and when he pulls away he whispers it against his mouth too. Finding himself unsurprised by how steadily the words leave his own lips.
That thing inside him, it seems to sag in relief. He's felt those three words for a while. A long while, but now he's secure in the knowledge that it's safe to say them back. "I love you too," he tells Jeremy. It's the first time Jean has heard it from anyone in a long long time, but he already knows he'll never tire from hearing it. It's also the first time he can remember saying it out loud too. And he finds he likes the way it sounds falling from his mouth.
(it's not long before he starts saying it in French. And when he does, he doesn't go back)
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thedensworld · 1 year ago
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Now You're Safe With Me | C.Sc
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Pairing: Seungcheol x reader
Genre: Fluff, angst, established relationship
Words count: ±400
Summary: Seungcheol received several missed calls from you, and he knew they weren't just regular phone calls.
Seungcheol had just finished his meeting with a business partner when his secretary informed him of multiple missed calls from you. Glancing at his watch, he noted it was still an hour after your scheduled lunch. He knew you wouldn't call unless it was urgent, and a sense of foreboding settled in. Hurriedly, he strode to his office, his fingers swiftly dialing your number.
"Seungcheol..." Your voice trembled, the wail of sirens and the clamor of a crowd audible in the background.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Alarm surged through him at the distress in your voice. His heart raced as he heard someone shout about bleeding on the other end.
"There was an accident, just a block away from my office. Another car collided with mine," you explained, your words slow and measured. "I'm okay, just a small fracture and some bleeding."
Seungcheol exhaled heavily, his heart aching as he heard your sobs through the phone. He stepped out of his office, motioning for his secretary to follow him.
"It's alright, love. I'll be there in ten minutes. Can you update me on your condition?"
"Yeah..." You replied, your voice a whisper. "I'm out of the car now. The medic has tended to my wound. They think my left hand might be fractured. I need to get it checked."
"We'll see the doctor together. I'll be right there with you," Seungcheol assured, but there was a prolonged silence before you finally responded.
"Sorry for bothering you, I was just so scared I might lose myself earlier."
His steps halted just meters from the company entrance, the security team bowing respectfully as he passed. Your words held him in place, vivid memories of your previous car accident 5 months ago flooding back. He had been overseas when it happened, rushing back on a thirteen-hour flight to be by your side. The trauma had lingered you, making driving a source of anxiety for months. It was only recently that you'd finally regained the confidence to drive again.
Seungcheol understood the terror you must be feeling now, and earlier.
"It's completely fine, my love. Take a moment to catch your breath, okay? We'll get your arm checked, and then how about some ice cream and that series you wanted to watch together?"
Seungcheol's heart ached at the thought of you alone in the aftermath of a car accident. Your fear of losing yourself resonated deeply with him.
"Hmm... I'll wait for you here. Some people were rushed to the hospital. They were bleeding so much. I'm grateful it's just a fracture and minor bleeding. Take your time... No need to rush."
He hummed in response, assuring you he was on his way even though his hand gestured urgently for his secretary to expedite their journey. While you insisted it was fine to wait, Seungcheol couldn't bear the thought of you alone after what had just transpired.
As he caught sight of you sitting on the ambulance, phone pressed to your ear, Seungcheol swiftly ended the call. He closed the distance between you, gathering you into his arms.
Seungcheol's breath caught at the sight of your blood-stained blouse and bandaged head. He turned to the nearest medic, urgency in his eyes.
"She lost a lot of blood. She was stuck in the car. We've stitched the wound, but please get her to the hospital for further checks. Her left arm might be fractured," the medic explained, and Seungcheol nodded, gratitude in his gaze.
Gently cupping your cheeks, he wiped away your tears. Leading you to the car, he whispered, "It's okay, baby. I'm here with you. You're safe."
As you settled into the car, Seungcheol's heart broke again when you apologized to him and his secretary for being a burden. Myungho, his secretary, asserted that your well-being was the top priority, a sentiment Seungcheol wholeheartedly agreed with. He supported your weakened body, acutely aware of how drained you must be. He remembered the medic had said how close you came to losing consciousness when the emergency responders worked to free you from the car.
"Stay with me, okay?" Seungcheol murmured, and you nodded, your movements sluggish.
After ensuring you received proper treatment, Seungcheol's tension eased. You had a blood transfusion and your arm was tended to. You were moved to a patient room, and Seungcheol ensured you had the best accommodations available.
"You're not driving anymore," Seungcheol stated firmly when you were in better condition, seated on your hospital bed.
You began to protest, but exhaustion had settled in, leaving you weak and unable to summon the energy.
Seungcheol's voice held a determined reassurance. "I'll drive you everywhere. And if I'm tied up, I'll have Chan take over. He might be chatty, but you were safer with him."
You lowered your gaze, a quiet "I'm sorry" escaping your lips, barely audible amidst the sterile hum of the hospital room.
Seungcheol's gaze softened as he approached, enfolding you in his embrace.
"I'm sorry, baby," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I just hate the thought of not being there to keep you safe. When you said you were afraid of losing yourself earlier... it broke my heart. I want you to always feel secure, to know you're safe with me."
You mumbled an apology, and he shook his head. His fingers gently lifting your chin so you met his gaze. " "It's okay... Just remember, you're safe with me now."
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judebellenthusiast · 4 months ago
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Where trust meets fear- Jude Bellingham
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Content: Jude x fem!reader, slight mature language, not fully proof read, Angst!
w.c : 2.2k
summary: You struggle with insecurities and self-destructive behavior in your relationship with Jude. After a painful argument fueled by jealousy and past fears, you find it hard to accept Jude’s constant support.
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Staring at the cellular device for the umpteenth time that night, the thought of smashing the screen against the marble floors crossed your fragmented focus.
Your thoughts drifted back to the slow-witted argument you had with your boyfriend earlier this morning, over a stupid blog post about his new companion for this month.
You knew Jude wasn’t the type to cheat—he did everything to make you feel secure in your relationship. But being an overthinker, you couldn’t quiet your restless mind. You dissected everything: the tone of his texts, why he chose you over the women he was often linked to.
His wild past wasn’t a secret, filled with women who matched his fast-paced world, while you were nothing like them. It made you uneasy, and you resented the constant questioning of his motives, knowing it wasn’t fair to either of you.
Harsh words slipped from your mouth, cutting deeper than you intended, as you watched the hurt ripple across your boyfriend's face. You said things you didn’t mean, questioning his integrity, throwing accusations that didn’t even make sense. The moment replayed in your mind—Jude reaching out, trying to comfort you, before you pushed him away, building a wall between you two.
the same wall he had worked so hard to break down, and despite everything, he had succeeded.
He left shortly after, leaving you wracked with guilt. — reminding you that he wasn’t the one walking away, it was you who was pushing him away.
Your self-destructive tendencies resurfaced in full force, catching you off guard. You thought you had dealt with them, convinced you had outgrown that sorrowful habit.
Mid-thought you hear the front door open, your clearly exhausted 6'1 athletic boyfriend walks in, tossing his training bag onto the counter avoiding your gaze. You walked up to him pulling him to face you which left you even more shattered as you gazed into his exhausted, hurt eyes, what hurt even more was knowing that you were responsible for inflicting that pain on him
"I'm so sorry for everything I've said." you started
"Baby-"
"No, Jude, I really mean it. I hate this—I hate that no matter how hard you try to make me feel safe, I always end up ruining it." You cut him off, your eyes brimming with tears as you refused to meet his gaze. He placed his large palm against your jaw, gently urging you to look at him, but you couldn’t. You felt unworthy of his attention, of his care, of him.
"Look at me," he said firmly, and you complied, locking your gaze with his. A wave of fear washed over you, the unsettling thought that you had finally pushed him to his breaking point, That this time, he might choose not to break down the walls you had already begun to build.
"Hey
 hey, stop that," he added, using his fingertip to wipe away the glistening pearls from your cheeks.
The sentimental gesture only confused you more. You questioned why he was being so gentle when frustration radiated from him. It was evident in the way his eyebrows furrowed, and how his eyes darted back and forth across your face, yet he still managed to prioritize your feelings above his own once again.
"You’re doing it again. I can practically sense the thoughts swirling in that head of yours." He attempts to lighten up the mood, as a way to calm you down once again.
"Please, don’t be gentle with me, Jude. I said some messed-up things."
He brushed a strand of hair away from your tear-streaked face, his eyes seeing right through your bullshit. Deep down, he understood—you hadn’t signed up for his lifestyle. He knew this was your first time loving someone with that kind of intensity, and that kind of love made you do things you never thought you would. It pushed you to act out of character, to question everything. And despite your words, he secretly empathized with the weight you were carrying.
"I get it," he said gently. "I know you’re scared of losing us, so you push me away, thinking I’ll leave. But I won’t. You have to accept that I’m not going anywhere" he firmly stated
"I love you, Jude" you replied. Your chest tightened with the weight of the argument looming between you, and he looked at you with a mix of worry, fear, and disappointment in his eyes.
"And I love you, but you won’t let me." He whispered softly as he hesitated, finally letting go of your face. A breath escaped him, one he hadn’t realized he was holding.
The silence was deafening, every unspoken word hanging heavy between you both. You felt like the elephant in the room, foolish for letting things unravel with the one person who truly cared for you, who knew you inside and out. Once again, the realization hit—you didn’t deserve him. And yet somehow, letting him go seemed easier than admitting the depth of your feelings.
"I wish you could let me in, I wish you could just let me love you the way you deserve to be loved, But your fear is greater than what we have and that's something you need to figure out"
"Jude please-" You plead selfishly, knowing that this repeated pattern of you pushing him away and him chasing after you had finally reached the finish line.
His attempt to reach out to you is returned by you taking a step back, further proving his point
“You’re pushing me away when all I want to do is hold you. How long are you going to keep this up?” he replies frustrated with how you keep getting in your own way.
You felt like you were being examined under a microscope, your thoughts laid bare. The silence between you only intensified his frustration, pushing him to dig deeper with more questions in search of clarity.
"You still haven't forgiven me for my past," he states.
“Don’t -” you say, but he interrupts pressing further into your vulnerability.
"The women I've been with—part of you still believes that part of my life is attached to me." He delivers this like a fact, another unpleasant reminder that he knows you better than you know yourself.
He waits patiently for your reaction to his truth bomb, knowing that he is treading on thin ice and that his words aren’t kind. Still, he can’t bring himself to acknowledge how you feel at that moment—not when he constantly puts up with your antics and guards your feelings over his. He knows that this is something you need to hear. You know that too.
“It’s not that simple,” you reply, “You don’t understand what it’s like to constantly compete with ghosts. Knowing I have nothing in common with your lifestyle or the fact that I look nothing like them. How do you expect me to just let that go when that's the bane of my existence Jude"
He sighs, the disappointment evident in his eyes.
"I never asked you to be like them. I'm asking you to trust that I am here, I'm asking you to believe that you are more than enough for me - that I won't leave you."
You turn away, frustration boiling inside you. “How can I do that when it feels like I’m always one step behind, waiting for you to slip back into that life.”
“You’re not behind,” he counters, stepping closer, his tone urgent. ignoring the last sentence you blurted knowing that your vulnerability made you say shit that was insubstantial.
“You’re with me. But you have to let me in. You have to let go of the pain.”
“...And you need to stop feeling so goddamn sorry for yourself,” he said, tone sharp, words piercing through your fog of confusion, challenging you to confront the emotions you’d been avoiding.
He employed the same tactics as on the football field, assessing your vulnerabilities and strategizing. This time, it wasn’t about rivalry or hostility. He was in the same match, but instead of defending against you, he was charging into your thoughts, eager to show he was equally afraid of losing you just as much. To him, you being off the field of his life just wasn’t an option he was settling for.
Your lips trembled as you absorbed his words, your fingers gripping the thin fabric of Jude's shirt. His scent wrapped around you, offering a sense of comfort amid the chaos of the moment.
“I wish I could,” you whisper, tears clouding your vision. “But I’m scared...Scared that I’m not enough for you”
He reaches out, brushing a tear from your cheek with the gentleness you so desperately crave. “You are enough. You don’t have to be perfect. Just be honest with me. Let me help you through this.”
His eyes dart all over your face attempting to decipher your thoughts secretly hoping that you don't push him away; hoping that you'd comfort him.
"I need you to meet me halfway on this; Please, just allow someone to be there for you—for once in your life."
His fingers gently brush against your face, gliding back and forth across your cheek, silently urging for a response. He tilts your face upward, guiding your gaze to meet his, the intensity in his eyes pressing you to say something—anything.
It feels like an eternity since you’ve spoken, the silence between you heavy and suffocating. The tension hangs thick in the air, punctuated only by the faint, steady ticking of the clock bolted to the wall, each sound a reminder of how much time has slipped by without a word.
"Please don't give me space, that's the last thing I want with you." you finally respond
He lets out a sigh of relief, his eyes filled with gratitude. You’re still here, still willing to wait for him, to fight for him with the same intensity he’s fought for you. Without hesitation, he pulls you flush against him, holding you tight as though you were slipping away like quicksand, desperate to keep you grounded in his arms.
But as he holds you, something unsettles him. Your body feels rigid, like you’re pulling away, even though you’re standing in his arms. He brushes his hand gently down your back, tension slightly easing but not fully fading. It lingers, heavy and unspoken - Just like where the both of you stood —on edge
----------------------
Thought daughters unite!
This is my first fic in a very long time, so please be kind lol
I love angst so much and I overthink a lottttt hence this fic!!!, so please lmk what you guys would like to read next, my inbox/ asks are open <3
this fic is gravely inspired by Silver Springs - Fleetwood Mac. I’ve had that song stuck in my head for days!!
Huge thanks to @urfriendlywriter for the apology prompt, It truly resonated with this story
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sourrpatched · 4 months ago
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àŒ’ p.js LOVE BITES 
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Pairing > Vampire!Park Jisung x Fem!Reader
Genre > Comedy, Brother’s Bestfriend (y/n is related to Chenle), fluff, sort of angst (not that bad), loosely based in the late 90s
Sypnosis > After surviving the brink of death, Park Jisung must navigate his new life as a Vampire, and what that means for the one sided love he’s had on his best friend’s sister for his entire life. Oh, and there’s also an army of freshly turned Vampires trying to wipe out the entire cities population, leaving Jisung and his group of friends to try and put a stop to them.
Warnings > Blood (obviously), Cult references (like twice maybe?), Cursing, I think that’s it?
Word Count > 18k (DAMN!)
A/N > I had way too much fun writing in stupid jokes so pls don’t take this so seriously 😭 it’s just a silly story I hope you all enjoy <3
playlist > Love Bites- Def Leppard, Tear You Apart- She Wants Revenge, You slept on me- Allie X
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Melody, October 13
Jisung couldn’t remember what happened that ended with him in the hospital, but right now that was the least of his worries. He was sure he had heard from one of the nurses that he had at least one rib broken and his arm hurt like a bitch so it was probably fractured or something, but what he was most worried about was if his walkman was okay.
It was a gift from Chenle last week and if he broke it he was very sure Chenle would find a new bone to break in his body. He had just bitched at him for breaking the Tamagotchi he was babysitting while you were out of town, if he found out now that the walkman was broken, it would be over for Jisung. He let out a breath then winced at the pain the simple action had caused him.
Yeah, how the hell was he going to get out of this one.
It was two in the morning when Jisung had woken up from what was supposed to be his afternoon nap. The room was pitch black and the house stayed empty and silent, he turned on the lamp grimacing at the movement.
His shoulder felt like it’d been ran over by a train and he was sure it was due to the living room couch he had fallen asleep on. He had been telling his mom for the past year that the couch was better off six feet under, she held too much sentimental value towards it so it remained. He massaged his shoulder and reached for the remote that lay on the floor.
A quick scroll through the channels landed on the movie Jaws. He had been meaning to watch it ever since his boss had suggested it for a late night date with a girl. Not that he had a girl to watch it with of course, he was only trying to expand his tastes. It had nothing to do with the fact that Chenle had once mentioned that you were a fan of sharped tooth enemies.
The movie was still in the beginning from what he could tell since there was no shark in sight. It was when the young lady was dragged under the water that the movie was disrupted by the sound of his stomach growling. He forgot that he had eaten sleep for lunch.
The movie continued as he began searching the fridge for anything he could eat. An almost half empty jug of milk and lime flavored jell-o stared back at him. He sighed turning his gaze back to where the movie played. His eyes zooming in on the coffee table in front of the TV, where remnants of the last pack of cherry flavored jell-o remained.
His parents had left for some weird family thing he had no interest in pertaining to, and for that reason he was left to deal with the consequences. His stomach roared in hunger, he contemplated looking through the cabinets and finding something else to eat instead, but then he’d have to worry less about death by starvation and instead death by house fire.
He dug his hand into his pocket finding his wallet with three dollars to spare and a crushed mint. The mint would do nothing to fix his need for food, so the dollars would have to suffice.
If there was one thing Jisung was thankful for, it was to the employees who worked overnight shifts and Janice. She was the convenience store worker who would keep this seven eleven running on weekends during the deep hours of the night.
She had all the patience in the world which was perfect for the definition of indecisiveness himself, Park Jisung who was currently in the middle of a debate between spicy pork and spicy chicken ramen noodles for his late dinner.
He was standing for a good five minutes before his appetite began to beg, very loudly, for mercy. He grabbed a bag of shin ramen instead, grabbing a coke from out of the fridge and heading straight to the counter.
“Has it been slow?” Jisung’s voice wrung silent to Janice’s ears as she scanned the items on the table.
He figured she must’ve not heard him and cleared his throat. “I appreciate you for working so late at night, people like me tend to skip meals and it’s pretty convenient to have a store like this open at this time.”
She began to place his items into a bag. “That must be why they call it the convenience store.” He let out a humorless laugh.
“Your total is two fifty.” Janice replies flatly.
He hands her the last of his three dollars, grabbing the bag from the counter. “Keep the change.” He walks away overlooking the scowl on her face.
As he walks out of the seven eleven and makes his way through the alley straight to his house, there’s a whistle that stops him in his tracks. He pauses for a moment, trying to make out whether or not the sound was further or closer to him.
Where the hell is this coming from?
He continues walking this time much more careful than before, his friends would probably mock him for being such a scaredy cat but he couldn’t help the ominous feeling he got in his gut.
He jumps when the power suddenly goes out, only making the alleyway appear much more obscure than before. His body tenses, whispering to himself,
Please don’t be a ghost.
He hears a crash, taking that as his cue to run off down the rest of the way. His breathes grow heavier as he sprints down the alley, hearing footsteps follow behind him.
His eyes shut in fear, which is something that Renjun would probably tell him is in the book of 101 horror stupidity, but right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck. It feels like an eternity once he makes it out of there, he sighs in relief but only for a moment. He can feel eyes on him.
“Fuck Fuck Fuck.” He whispers again, turning his body to look at the source of the footsteps. Yeah, definitely 101 horror stupidity.
He peeks his eye open staring into, nothing. There’s nothing but the dark alleyway that faces him, he feels himself relax. It’s still very dark, he’s guessing most of the city’s lights went out too instead of just the power from in the alley. His friends were definitely going to laugh at him when he told him about this later.
He turns around, ready to make his way back on route. The bag of ramen had fallen to the floor at some point during his chase so he leans down to grab it from off the ground. A weird smell reaches his nostrils, pulling a scowl from his face.
The moment he looks up his heart sinks. It’s only for a split second that he sees the face, no, a mask of a person right in front of him. The person grabs onto him with immense strength and throws him into the wall.
Jisung lets a cry out in pain, using his arms to protect his head from injury, it’s a tip he’d learned in nature documentaries when bear attacks happened. The person began climbing onto him its nails sharp, piercing onto his arms. He lets out a yelp, trying to push them away but they won’t budge.
Since his hands are no use, he gathers all of his strength to kick them away, it works. The figure falls to the ground and stumbles for a second before regaining their position. It’s when he looks it in the eye that he realizes this isn’t a person. The way the creature moved was so inhumane, it had Jisung wondering if this was all just a dream.
He’s very quickly reminded that it isn’t, the creature climbs over him digging its nails into the flesh of his abdomen. He screams, feeling the warm blood begin to pool outside of his body when a hand goes to his mouth and forces him silent. The thing looks into his eyes and gives a wicked smile, digging itself into his neck.
Jisung feels a sharp pain almost like puncture wound, his body feels as if it was set on fire. A tear rolls down his cheek, his eyes closing from the pain.
This is it. I’m going to die.
He thinks to himself as his life flashes before his eyes. He thinks of his friends and how they’ll never get to play the next rumored Mortal Kombat, he thinks of his parents and how he wishes he went with them to go visit his aunt because then he wouldn’t be in this situation, but most importantly he thinks of you.
Your smile that always gave him butterflies, your laugh that he couldn’t help but reciprocate, and his feelings he’s had for you since the day Chenle invited him over and he ran into a six year old you who had gotten into your moms makeup.
He feels a content warmth all of a sudden, his body falling unconscious. His eyes slip closed, he’s too far out of it to notice the way the creature had left at the sound of someone yelling from the distance. The last thing he hears is the sound of a voice, before finally succumbing to sleep.
It’s been a week since Jisung was discharged from the hospital, his injuries somehow healing about ten times faster than expected. And although he wasn’t going to complain that he was finally back home, he couldn’t help but wonder how it is that none of his doctors seemed interested in the slightest in his abnormal recovery process.
These past days he found himself glued to the couch. His parents had called to check in on him about three days ago, he didn’t mention the whole almost dying thing. The last thing he wanted was his mom freaking out and driving recklessly to get back home.
He didn’t want any company right now. That’s exactly why he’d been ghost in his group chat and hadn’t shown up to work for the past few days. He was sure he would’ve been fired if his boss was anyone other than Renjun, but luckily the elder had a soft spot for him.
His job and social life weren’t the issue right now, the issue was that he was starving once again, or more like he never stopped. His stomach felt like it was going to burst for the past week, and every meal he’d tried to make would only end up in chunks down the toilet.
Now Jisung was no Gordon and he knew that, but you’d think eggs were digestible enough that it wouldn’t come back out of his throat. He was wrong. He hadn’t ate for the past days and he knew if he even had the energy to stand up and stare at the mirror he’d only see a ghostly version of himself.
His head begins pounding, his body used to the headaches and shivers he gets whenever the thought of hunger crosses his mind. He pulls his blanket closer to him, hoping this feeling won’t last longer than five minutes.
The sound of footsteps creep up, Jisung’s ear twitching at the sound before a loud banging noise comes from his door. He sighs, standing up with more effort than usual and opens the door.
Chenle shoves past him towards the couch, “You little fucker, we were supposed to go to the arcade three days ago and you didn’t even show up. Then when me and Xiaojun asked Renjun if he had seen you he says you’ve been absent from work for over a week now?”
Jisung stands there waiting for Chenle to finish his rant. It was no use trying to explain, not now anyway. His best friend was stubborn and wouldn’t listen to anything until he was done talking. He zones out but only for a second, smelling a very pungent iron smell from Chenle, he feels his throat close up gagging on instinct.
“Did you just fucking gag at me? Park Jisung I will end you,” He cuts himself off finally taking in the appearance of the man in front of him. “The fuck happened to you?”
After a very brief explanation, Chenle sits on the couch way too comfortably for Jisung’s liking. He wasn’t a fan of feet up on his couch. ïżœïżœSo you’re saying you literally died and didn’t tell us a thing? Wow, wait til Renjun hears about this.”
“He won’t ask so there’s no point in saying anything, besides I’m okay now.” The lie feels funny coming out of his mouth, and with the way he’s known Chenle for over ten years, he knows Chenle can tell he’s lying.
“Are you an idiot or do you just take me for one? You’re obviously not okay Jisung, look at you.” He stands up heading towards the cabinets searching for the one filled with over the counter medicine.
“It’s not going to work, i’ve been taking all types of medication for the past days and nothing works.”
Chenle being the stubborn fucker he is, only gives up on his search once he realizes there are no more pill bottles in the cabinets.
“Well have you ate?”
Jisung’s stomach curls at the thought, the feeling of stomach acid rising up his throat. “I have, I just keep throwing everything up.”
“Well did you cook it?” Jisung nods his head, “Maybe that’s the problem.”
“I tried take out too, no point.”
“Well then you have to go to the doctor, i’m not sure how you’ve even survived this long without eating.”
“Sleep.”
“Yeah of course that’s how.” He rolls his eyes finding his way back to the couch. Silence fills the room which was an important moment that shouldn’t be taken for granted given Chenle was a talker.
A minute passes until Chenle’s eyes light up. Jisung feels a headache coming on, knowing the next words out of his friend’s mouth was either going to be stupid or annoying. “The sun is good for you, my mom always told me that It helps your mood when you’re sick.”
“Bullshit, you never go out.” Just as Chenle could read Jisung’s lies, it worked vice versa.
“Okay fine you got me there. I just thought maybe i’d surprise you with a special person who wants me to pick her up from the airport,” He looks to his watch, “soon.”
Jisung’s heart fluttered at the thought, there was no way .You weren’t supposed to be returning until Christmas break. “You’re lying.”
He shrugs standing up and walking towards the door, “Then don’t come, but if y/n asks i’m going to tell her that you didn’t care to tag along.”
If there’s one thing Zhong Chenle loved to do, it was lie. He’d argue it was only exaggerating the truth but Jisung knew better than that. That’s why now he finds himself pausing for a moment and falling into a trap.
You were Chenle’s little sister and Jisung was best friends with Chenle. That’s how it started at least until Chenle had became a closer friend and you slowly integrated into their friendship.
Somewhere along the line, Jisung thought of you as someone more than just Chenle’s little sister, more than just a close friend, and more than just puppy love. He’d never had the chance to do anything about it, you had moved away to study abroad a year and a half ago.
If he were being honest with himself, he wouldn’t have been able to confess anyway. The thought that you might not feel the same way was enough to scare him into silence. He’d admire you from afar if it meant you’d still be in his life.
Chenle doesn’t know but he also doesn’t not know about how he feels, and that’s why his stupid lie is enough to convince Jisung to get up off of his ass and go with him to pick you up.
“Fine, i’ll go.” Chenle smirks at him opening the door. “Don’t make that face it’s weird.”
His friend’s dolphin like laugh pierces his ears. “So cute.”
Jisung felt like his entire body was going to explode, not figuratively speaking but literally. Only this wasn’t because of some weird food combination Xiaojun stuffed down his throat during a hot pot, no this was serious. The sun was shinning way too bright, everything was way too loud, and he still couldn’t help the weird intense smell of iron, this time coming from everyone.
Chenle asked if he had been drinking, that it seemed like he had a hangover, to which he replied he wished it was. A hangover felt like paradise in comparison to the overwhelming pain Jisung was trying so hard to hide. He didn’t want to be a buzz kill and make you feel uncomfortable by his presence.
He felt bad enough that Chenle had mentioned to you that he went MIA and that’s part of the reason you booked a flight back home sooner. You were planning on visiting anyway, but still, he felt guilty knowing he caused you distress.
“She should be coming out soon,” Chenle says waiting by the luggage carrier, he glances over at Jisung. “Calm down already, you’re making me anxious.”
Jisung frowns, “I told you this wasn’t going to work, if anything I feel worse than before.”
Chenle shrugs, “Let’s see how long that lasts.” Before Jisung can respond the sound of a yell shakes him to his core, not particularly because of how loud it was, but because he could recognize that squeal from anywhere. He’s sure he’s memorized just about everything about you.
You run towards your brother jumping into his arms, Chenle feigning disgust but carrying you anyway. “Gross, get off of me you animal.”
You hop back onto the floor, slapping his arm playfully. “You are still just as bitchy as before. I’m telling mom that you called me that by the way.”
“Go for it, she’d agree with me anyway.”
“So full of yourself no wonder your head just gets bigger everytime I see you.” you gesture an explosion with your hands.
Jisung lets a laugh slip out, Chenle and you finding his eyes in the next second. You run over to Jisung in a millisecond, clinging to him like a bear. He smiles to himself wrapping his own arms against you tighter only letting go of you once he notices the questioning look Chenle gives him.
“Where have you been? Lele told me you went ghost and I was like Park Jisung? What better does he have to do that he can’t answer the phone you know?” Chenle chuckles at the accidental insult, you’re too busy rambling to tell him to knock it off though. “I was worried for you! So then I was like no I have got to go back sooner and make sure he’s okay.”
Your eyebrows furrow finally processing the state of him, his clothes are sleeping clothes full of wrinkles and complimentary to his under eye bags that make it seem like the clothes were just for show.
“Jiwi? What’s wrong?” His stomach flutters at the use of his old nickname. “You look so pale.” Your thumb traces his cheek. “Should we go to the doctor?”
His breath hitches at the contact. “That’s really not necessary.” He feels the nausea hit him once again this time stronger than it’s ever been along with a sudden lightheadedness making his vision go blurry.
“You’re not okay.” You step closer to him holding onto his arms. The feeling only gets worse. He smells a hint of sweetness coming from you, his stomach churns, only this time he realizes how hungry he really is.
He backs away from you, almost tripping over his own feet. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Chenle’s voice sounds muffled. It’s the last thing that he makes out before he loses consciousness.
Am I in Heaven?
Jisung thought as he opened his eyes to a bright white light. It took a minute for him to figure that he was far from there. He recognizes the hospital room pretty easily, he had just gotten out of it less than two weeks ago so it was still fresh in his brain.
He looked over to his right, seeing an empty fluid bag that was connected to a tube on his arm. He pulls the tube flinching, only to realize there wasn’t even a bit of pain from him ripping it off.
He sits up, looking around the empty hospital room stretching his arms forward and popping his fingers. It’s in that moment that there’s a subtle knock on the door revealing, a tall man wearing glasses standing. The man wears glasses, he has a white jacket on and his hand is carrying a– blood bag?
“Park Jisung, i’m glad to see you’re awake.” The man smiles.
Jisung’s face turns to one of concern, “How do you know my name?”
The man’s face mimics his own, “I’m your doctor.”
“Oh.” He replies embarrassed.
That didn’t explain what brought him here though, or where his friends had gone, or why the man had a blood bag in his hand like it was an accessory. He was going to ask another question until the man spoke again.
“My name is Kun, I’m glad you came here in time it was almost too late.”
Too late? For what? Jisung’s eyes widen, “Am I terminal?”
Kun sniggers before coughing seemingly to compose himself, “Let me explain.”
Jisung nods slowly so Kun continues, “You fainted. You may have not realized it yet, but you have completed your process and with the lack of blood running through you, your organs began to shut down. We hooked you to that blood drip earlier for the meantime, you have consumed about four pints which would explain why you’re fully conscious.”
The words feel like a game of scrabble to him, only furthering his confusion. “This should be your fifth and final bag and after that you should be free to go, but really you should make sure you’re consuming enough. I’m going to leave you with another card,”
He reaches into his front pocket and hands Jisung a small business card. “This is my friend Taeyong who should have blood supply for you, if you run out he can help you with that too.”
It’s at this point that Jisung is very lost, “I’m sorry what? Consumed? Organs failing? Blood Supply? What?”
Kun stares pitifully at him, “You weren’t aware? Jisung, you’re a full fledged Vampire.”
Jisung doesn’t think he’s ever heard such a ridiculous sentence. He can’t help the fit of laughter that escapes him. “Okay this is a prank right? They’re playing a prank on me for going all ghost, very funny Chenle you can come out now.”
Kun clears his throat, “I know it might seem strange but it’s true. You have to take this seriously, going so long without any blood ingested can end up with you–“
“I’m sorry, I just– this is insane. A vampire?” He laughs, “There’s no way.”
“You’ve been getting headaches right? Your sense of smell is heightened, you can hear better than you ever could before, you feel hunger but any food you’ve consumed wasn’t enough.”
Jisung gulps, there’s no way any of that meant anything, except it made more sense of things that weighed his mind for days. The way he could smell such a strong metal smell off of Chenle, the way he heard footsteps up the stairs before they even made it to his door, maybe this wasn’t a prank after all.
“You have to take care of yourself, Jisung. Going so long without food is deadly.” Jisung looks down at the paper in his hand. “Lee Taeyong, that’s his number. He should be able to explain more to you.”
“I don’t understand, I was normal just two weeks ago.”
Kun offers a compassionate smile, “It’s hard to make sense of it, but you will.” He offers the blood bag. “This is the last you need and then you should be fine.”
“Thank you.” He replies softly, accepting the bag and poking at it like it’s a dead bug.
“I’m only glad nothing worse happened to you, it was irresponsible of me to let you go the first time without speaking to you one on one.” He hands him a straw to poke through the bag.
“I don’t understand, have we met before?”
“You were my patient the day you were left out to die. I got caught up with other patients so I had you discharged hoping you could call the number I left behind to get answers.”
It takes Jisung five tries until he’s able to poke the straw through the blood bag. The smell hits him instantly, his fangs protracting as if he’s ready to attack. He follows his instincts telling him to drink. “What number?”
Kun nods his head towards the card. “That same one, I left it to one of the nurses to give to you once you were discharged.
Jisung pulls away from the straw covering his mouth in shock, “Oh that, I thought that was a card from those cult recruiters so I threw it out.”
The breath the elder lets out is between one of frustration and annoyance, “That’s okay, you got back here anyway.”
He takes another sip before remembering, “Oh, I came here with my friends. Did you send them off?”
“Oh yes, I believe I may have seen them heading towards the hospital cafeteria.”
Jisung nods. That seems about right for Chenle at least. “Very well, I have more patients to see. Once you’re done drinking feel free to leave.”
“Thank you again, sir.”
“Just Kun is fine,” He smiles, “I have a feeling we will definitely be seeing each other more often now.”
“Thank you, Kun.”
He lets out a shaky sigh once the room is left empty again. Never in Jisung’s life would he had ever predicted this to happen, or even that Vampires existed. It still felt like a joke but he knew better now. There was no reasonable explanation for why he had been able to survive that attack, or not survive.
Being a Vampire was still really confusing, did that mean he was dead? He’d been out in the sun today and he didn’t burn to death so that had to mean not all Vampires myths were true. Who was he kidding, he needed to reach out to whoever the fuck Kun’s friend was and fast.
He was so distracted by his own thoughts he failed to notice the door open. He looks up into your frightened eyes, he throws the blanket over himself to cover the blood hoping you didn’t notice it.
“I–“ You cut yourself off, “Was that– Were you drinking a blood pint?”
He shakes his head mumbling, “I wasn’t doing anything.”
‘Really Jisung is that the best you can come up with?’
“You literally were you still have red on your lips.” You say motioning your hand over your face.
He covers his mouth, “It’s cherry Jell-o.”
You lock the door stepping closer to him. He shifts himself so the blanket completely covers his lap where the blood pint lays. He wasn’t a good liar, especially not with you. You uncover his lap, gasping at the bag in front of you.
“Please I can explain,” He jumps up ready to explain. Your squeal cuts him off before he can speak another word.
“I knew it, they had to be real. You know I partially moved away cause I assumed Vampires would be more to the West but well was I wrong.” You face him, eyes sparkling. “I never thought they’d be hiding right under my nose.”
Jisung was lost, and not the kind of lost when he was seven and left behind at the zoo. He was the kind of lost where he felt ten pages behind the learning unit.
“Jisung.” You take a seat beside him, way too close for someone who just discovered Vampires existed. “How could you not have told me this?”
You stay quiet awaiting for his answer. “I didn’t know.”
Now you look lost so he tries to explain, “This is also a new thing, It kinda happened not too long ago. I found out just now, like two minutes ago when the doctor told me.”
“Your Doctor?” You speak slowly as if you were making sense of the words.
“He told me I could call him Kun. It turns out like two weeks ago when I got attacked I became this.” He flaps his hands up. “I’m not sure if I was supposed to share that information with anyone though.”
You’re silent for a solid minute, which is pretty good considering that when he found out he was only in denial. He takes in a breath, he would’ve taken you rejecting him over turning into a vampire if that meant you were scared of him now.
“I see, so you don’t understand any of this?”
He shakes his head, “Kun gave me this paper though, he said that this person will help me better understand and supply me with
 what I need.” He trails off.
You take the paper in hand, observing the number. “So then we have to get in touch with this guy.”
“Wait– we?”
“Hello Jisung, this is not french class. Yes, we.”
“There’s only two of us though?”
You pause, standing up from the hospital bed. “Lele, you’ve got to tell him Jiwi.”
The thought hits him like a bus, there’s no way he could ever tell Chenle. Not only was he scared about what his friend would think, but also how would he feel about him being close to you. Chenle didn’t like to admit it but he was a very protective older brother, one time a guy made fun of you in the third grade and he punched the guy.
He shakes his head, “No. I can’t, that’d change so much.”
“Nothing would change, you’re still the same Jwi he grew up with, you’re his best friend.” The more Jisung thinks about it the more he realizes that losing his best friend would automatically mean losing you too. He’d rather die than let any of those things happen.
He just couldn’t take the risk, what if Chenle hated him or like stabbed him with a cross or something. He wasn’t really sure how this Vampire thing worked but still. This was too scary to even imagine so it had to be a no.
“Jisung, I know how you are. You’re worried.” You grab onto his face with both of your hands. He recognizes how weird this position looks, him looking up to you as you tower over him. “You will be okay, Lele cares about you. If you keep this from him, once he finds out he would only be more upset.”
Jisung looks to the floor, “He won’t find out.”
You poke his cheek with his thumb to grab his attention once more, “You know you can’t keep a lie.”
He lets out a heavy sigh, you’re right. He liked to think you both were the only ones who could read him like a book, but he knew better.
“Fine.”
You squeal, “Great, i’ll go grab him now.”
He holds your arm gently yet tight enough to keep you from leaving. “After I meet with this guy. I have to better understand myself before just jumping out of the closet.”
You nod in understanding, “I understand, then let’s meet up with this guy tomorrow, yeah?”
“Sounds good–“ Jisung’s voice is cut off by the banging on the door.
Your eyes go wide remembering you had locked the door, the sound of your brother’s banging making you run straight to the door to unlock and open it.
“You force me to bring everything up on my own and lock the door? Have fun sleeping with Daegal tonight.” He says, placing the food on the table.
The room goes dead silent, Jisung avoiding any eye contact with his friend. Chenle looks at both of you suspiciously, “You guys weren’t doing weird shit right?”
You choke on your own spit, “Don’t be a creep Lele, this is a public place you know.”
He doesn’t look convinced, raising his eyebrow. “Then stop acting weird, I didn’t wait in line for like fifteen minutes waiting for Salty & Sweet Diner to make your sandwich for nothing.”
You reach into the bag, pulling your own meal out. “Thanks Lele, I love you.”
“Don’t be gross.” He tosses the bag at Jisung, “Eat up, wouldn’t want you collapsing in front of everyone again, it was embarrassing.”
“Thanks,” Jisung speaks slowly, not sure if this meal would be able to go down especially given how he’d already ate, or drank, moments before.
“Why is everyone so awkward?” Chenle bursts out, earning an awkward laugh from the two of you.
After calling the number Kun left behind, it took two tries until it actually connected. The person who had answered the phone left an address for Jisung to write down, which led him and y/n to where they stood now.
The house was enormous, and this was coming from someone who spent majority of his childhood in Chenle’s two story house. It was completely white, save for the deep rich wood color on the windows and the front door. Bushes surrounded the entryway, leading up to the entrance, flowers left in a garden to the left of the house.
“Wow,” You whispered, Jisung loved the way your eyes twinkled when you were admiring something. He was sure his own eyes did the same whenever he looked at you. “This is beautiful.”
He keeps his eyes on you, “It really is.” He thinks for a moment about how nice it would be to live in a house with you like this, but he’s snapped out of the dream quickly once the front door opens.
“Jisung right?” The voice comes from a figure hiding behind the door. “You can come in.”
Jisung heads into the house, you following behind him. You grip onto his arm and he’s not sure if it’s subconsciously but he can’t help but feel shy at the touch.
“Take a seat,” You both listen, taking a seat on the couch. “Okay I’ll start by introducing myself, I am Lee Taeyong. You can call me Tyong. Jisung, you brought a human?”
“I already know,” You respond abruptly his gaze finding your own. “I found out when he did.”
“Ah I see, you guys are together then?”
Jisung’s eyes feel like they popped out of his skull, he’s quick to dismiss the question, “No. Well she’s my friend and I trust her and if you mean literally then yes, we’re together right now but–“
Your strident voice cuts him off, “He gets it Jisung.”
Taeyong looks at the both of you like he has you both figured out, but he doesn’t press any further. “Well, in that case let me explain to you what this new form means.”
Jisung nods, ready to hear what this new life intels.
“First part, I think Kun told you, but you need to make sure you are consuming enough blood. That way your organs won’t deteriorate. You should be fine with about six pints within a week, do not try and go any further than that, it’s very unsafe.”
“This is what caused him to faint before right?” Your voice rings out. He finds it awfully adorable how much you want to learn about him, even if it’s not technically just about him.
“Precisely, that’s why you should also make sure he is drinking enough. You both have my number so be sure to call whenever you may need blood, I know fledglings find it difficult to drink straight from the source.“
“By straight from the source you mean–“
Taeyong nods towards you, “Yes, humans. It’s actually safer that way, for both Human and Vampires. As a vampire you won’t have to worry about never having blood and as a human, well I’ve heard the feeling is euphoric.”
Jisung bites his lip to keep from embarassing rambling, “Yeah I’m not sure I feel comfortable doing that.”
“That’s fine, there is another thing, erase those myths you hear. Garlic is fine, Crosses are fine, and feel free to walk in the sun. Although, keep in mind it does drain energy more, so avoid being in the sun when you’re low on blood.”
Realization hits Jisung in that moment, that must be the reason he had fainted at the airport. “I tried eating, I couldn’t. I kept vomiting everything.”
Taeyong hums for a moment before responding, “Could that have been because of the fact that you hadn’t fed?”
Jisung nods, “Yeah, I wasn’t drinking any blood for that time I just kept sleeping.”
“Wow,” You sound excited, “So basically you’re immortal right? Any cool super powers we should know about?”
Taeyong lets out a laugh, it eases Jisung’s anxiety about the assumingely elder man. He was scared being a Vampire would be ten times worse than it actually was. “Well there are its downsides, for one don’t expect to be able to walk into any house without an invite.”
You let out a laugh, Jisung can’t even take offense, given the situation is pretty hilarious. “So you’re saying jiwi needs to ask before coming over?”
“Before entering the premises, yes. It’s not too bad though considering you do have better hearing, eyesight, and quicker reflexes.”
Jisung grins, “You’re right, is there anything else?”
Taeyong wonders for a moment before continuing, “Don’t worry about dying, it’s practically impossible for a Vampire to die besides starving to death or
 wolf venom.”
“What?” You jump up from your seat, “There’s wolves too?”
“Ya ya ya,” Jisung pats the couch for you to sit down again, his words contradict the beaming smile he has watching you get so excited.
You take a seat, “I’m sorry this is just, this is so much like the books.” You lightly slap Jisung on the shoulder.
“Don’t get too cocky, the reason is because wolf blood is fatal to our kind. If it were to somehow be ingested, you would die.”
“I understand.”
“This is great, there’s no way you would ever come close to contact with a vampire, Jiwi this is amazing,” You pinch his cheek earning a look from Taeyong that you’re too distracted to notice. “Do you happen to have a phone? I need to call my brother to come pick us up.”
Jisung’s eyebrows raise, “I thought we were going to take the bus back?”
“Well It’s better to tell lele now, you know everything there is to know. Could I borrow your phone?”
“Feel free,” Taeyong replies, “It’s in the furthest room down the left.”
“Thank you, sir.” You run out quickly, skipping steps as you make your way to your destination.
Jisung smiles to himself, feeling shy now that you’re gone. “You like her, a lot.”
His eyes meet the elder, “I– We grew up together.”
“So then you love her?” He feels his face get warmer, lifting his hands to cover himself. “They say blood taste the sweetest from someone you love.”
“Oh I couldn’t do that, I would never put her in such a risk.”
“You couldn’t, Vampires naturally have strong resistance, even fledglings, such as yourself. There’s no way of turning someone without bringing them to the brink of death, and biting them then. If a vampire were to lose themselves and kill a human, it’d be purposefully.”
Jisung stays quiet, not really sure what to say.
“With that being said, Human and Vampire relationships aren’t easy. You must keep in mind that even though you don’t have to worry about hurting them physically, you can still do so emotionally.”
Taeyong’s voice comes out rough, as if he was speaking from experience. Jisung is curious and doesn’t want to press, but he also knows if you were to ask him later about it you’d be disappointed in his limited information.
Picturing your disappointment is enough to get him to inquire. “By emotionally you mean?”
“Immortality isn’t something everyone yearns for. It’s a blessing to some and a curse to others, I speak from experience.”
Jisung can see the pain in Taeyong’s eyes, so this time he refuses to ask further. He hates the awkward silence so he tries to find a new topic of discussion, “Wait, you mentioned how Vampires are very resilient, how is it that I was attacked and became the way I did?”
Taeyong ponders for a moment before replying, “Did you happen to make out the state of the Vampire?”
Jisung shakes his head, “I just remember my guts being split open and then the piercing fangs in my neck.”
“That’s strange, It could be something relating to the current rise in fledglings. There’s been many like yourself who have been attacked for the past week. Usually if a vampire loses all control, then there’d only be people left dead.”
“This doesn’t seem like a coincidence then.” Your voice rings out from beside them, “Isn’t it more purposeful if there’s more vampires turning than deaths?”
“It seems so, I’ll have to look further into it. For the meantime you shouldn’t worry, this isn’t a problem you should deal with.”
Jisung stands from his seat, “Thank you once again Taeyong, the help you and Kun have been means a lot.”
“It isn’t a problem, make sure you take care of yourself okay?”
“Lele is parked outside, it was nice meeting you Yongie.” You say with a smile.
He freezes for a half second, returning your smile shortly after. “You too, y/n.” Jisung gets whiplash from the shift, almost questioning his own memory of the situation.
You pull onto his arm dragging him outside of the home to meet with your brother. The door closes and soon after you speak up, “We have to find out what weird shit is going on.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. There’s obviously someone purposely turning innocent people into vampires, we need to find out why and who.” You turn your gaze to his, “Do you remember anything weird about your attacker?”
Jisung tries to remember as much as he can from the attack besides the feeling of bleeding out and the burn of the bite piercing his skin and turning him into what he is now. He thinks back as much as he can until it dawns on him.
“There was a man there. He had called out to the thing and it jumped off me in an instant. I thought he was just trying to save my life but if that were the case wouldn’t the vampire have attacked him after?”
“So this man, he must’ve had something to do with your attack. Jisung, this guy could be the person behind all of this,” You take a step closer to him, “Do you remember anything else?”
He tries to make out the face of the attacker, but the most he can imagine was the creepy face like mask on it. “The way it moved, it was crawling. It wasn’t normal, that thing wasn’t Vampire or human like at all.”
“These aren’t any regular fledglings then, this could mean something way more.”
Jisung looks into your face again, he always loved the way you looked when you were deep in thought. Your brows would furrow in the cutest way and your teeth would dig into your lips in concentration. Your very plush lips that Jisung couldn’t help but wonder how they would feel on his own.
A honk startles him, Chenle parked in front of the building waiting. The window rolls down, Chenle yelling out to the two of them, “Hurry up before I leave you both alone!”
“Sorry!” Jisung shouts out, his ears turning red.
Before he can run towards the car you squeal, shaking his shoulder, “This is so exciting! We have to tell lele about everything and get ready to solve this case!”
Jisung’s mouth goes dry, you walk away before he has a chance to respond. He already knows that there’s no way of stopping you once you’ve got your mind set on something. Realistically he could try, but you were as stubborn as a bull, and also you had him wrapped around your finger.
He lets out a sigh, Please don’t let this be anything serious He follows your lead towards the car.
A nuclear bomb was no match for the effect Zhong Chenle’s laugh had on Jisung’s ears. He had been laughing on and off for the last three minutes, and everytime Jisung tried to further explain, he’d only laugh more.
“Okay, okay i’m done,” Chenle says taking in a breath and wiping his tears, “so what was it you were really going to tell me.”
You made brief eye contact with Jisung before turning back to your brother, “Lele, he’s telling the truth.”
“A Vampire, really?” He stands from his seat at the table and walks towards the fridge for a drink, “You finally watched Dracula or?”
“No, he’s being serious.” You stood up marching towards your brother. “Didn’t you wonder how he suddenly got better at the hospital?”
He shrugs, “I’m guessing he had an IV drip?”
“Chenle.” Your tone is very serious, it’s enough to make your brother stop with the jokes and hear you out. “Are you going to keep laughing or actually listen to what we’re saying.”
“I’m laughing because this is stupid, newsflash y/n Vampires don’t exist and even if they did, what makes you think they’d turn Jisung into one of them.”
“Hey–“ Jisung interjects while Chenle adds, “No offense.”
“Okay whatever then you’re never going to listen, Jiwi show him.”
Jisung pauses for a second remaining seated in his chair. He points at himself in question, “Me?”
You take a deep sigh, “We’re trying to prove it to him aren’t we Jisung?”
“Right,” He stands up putting his hands into his pocket, “what should I do?”
The door bell goes off in the house, none of them, with the exception of Chenle, knew there was company coming over. Chenle begins to head towards the door, “If you guys are done being weird now, you can start taking the drinks out of the fridge.”
“Jisung, your fangs hurry up and take them out.”
“I don’t know how to do that on instinct?”
“Well try! You’re gonna let him just think you’re a liar?”
“I told you this wouldn’t work!” You groan before pricking your finger with a pin. “What are you doing?”
“Maybe if you smell blood they’ll come out on instinct.” You shrug, the tiniest drop of blood forms on your finger. It’s enough to make Jisung take two steps away from you, covering his mouth to hide the fangs that are forcing themselves out.
“Let me see!” You say, dropping the pin and walking towards Jisung. He backs away further hitting the wall behind him and shaking his head.
“Y/n, your blood is really overwhelming, you can step away now.”
“I just want to see them, this is our way to show Lele.”
Jisung stutters, barring his teeth and unwrapping his hand from around his mouth slowly. You gasp at the sight of his fangs, leaning your finger forward to touch them.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” Chenle’s voice is enough to make the two of you jump away from each other.
Xiaojun who stands behind Chenle drops the bag of food on the floor. Even the loud sound of a bottle breaking isn’t enough to distract from the awkward silence.
“Your teeth–“ Xiaojun’s voice comes out shrill, “You have fangs?”
Jisung bows his head shyly, “Surprise.”
Chenle begins “You’re a–“
“Vampire!” Xiaojun shouts, “I’ve read all about this on AOL!
“What are you talking about?” Renjun replies. Jisung hadn’t even noticed him within all of the chaos. Vampires aren’t real.”
Xiaojun shakes his head, “They are, that’s why there’s been so many attacks lately.”
“The news said it was Bear attacks.”
“Oh come on, in Melody? Bears don’t attack in cities, Renjun.” Xiaojun says.
Chenle cuts the both of them off, “Jisung those teeth,” He signals to his face, “they’re real?”
“Of course they’re real.” You say, stepping towards the counter to grab a rag and cover your wound. “That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you.”
In that moment Jisung’s teeth retract on their own, going back to normal. “Guess i’ll have to explain everything now right?”
“So you’re saying, there’s some kind of vampire sire who is forming an army of mutant vampires?”
“That’s exactly it.” You reply earning an eye roll from Renjun.
“I believe you, like I mentioned there’s been so many attacks lately in the city. Something is happening and it’s unnatural.”
“That’s the same thing you said when you got that chain email about a ghost spirit that fell down a well.”
“That was one time, Chenle. This is not normal though, neither is the way Jisung had sharp teeth and suddenly he’s back to normal!”
“I don’t have any other way of proving it, but i’m not lying.” Jisung says to his best friend, “I know it seems unreal but we’re telling the truth. We have to do something to stop this, you know how many innocent people don’t end up like me and instead end up dead.”
Chenle thinks for a long moment before groaning, “I swear to god if you’re trying to get back at me for the wrong call prank I did on you last year, you will have your third trip to the hospital this year.”
Jisung smiles, happy his friend is fully trusting him even though the situation itself sounds straight out of a bad soap opera. Their cheers are cut short by Renjun.
“I for one think all of this is stupid. If what you guys are saying is true, what are we supposed to do about it? Jisung is the only Vampire here, we’re only human.”
“I have a plan,” Y/N speaks up, “So I think since most of the attacks have been happening within the night and in remote areas, it would be better for someone to walk alone.”
“You want one of us to act as bait?”
“Not one of you, me.” Chenle immediately sets his glass down, Jisung turning to meet your eyes.
“You can’t do that.” Both of them speak at the same time, Jisung continues, “I don’t want any of you putting yourself at risks for me. I can go.”
“That won’t work,” Xiaojun speaks, “you’re already a vampire so you won’t be any sort of bait.”
“I am going, there’s no question about it. You guys will just have to keep an eye out for me.”
“I’m not going to let you do that Y/N,” Chenle’s voice comes out low, “You’re my little sister, if this is a real maniac then don’t think for a goddamn second I’d ever let you go through with something this dangerous.”
“I’m not asking for permission,” You raise your voice, “I am going. Unless any of you would rather.”
It’s silent for a moment, Jisung wants to speak up but he knows better than to try. Chenle knew just as much also, you were more stubborn than he was.
“I think I know how we can keep in contact with you without getting too close,” Xiaojun comments, the rest of the group looking to his direction. “I got some Walkie-talkies, a lot of them. We can use those to make sure Y/N is okay.”
“Great, bring them four days from today.”
“Four Days?” Jisung asks, he’d thought this would at least be postponed til they could let Taeyong know.
“Might as well get this over with,” Renjun says, Chenle doesn’t look happy in the slightest so he offers a pat to his shoulder before continuing, “Calm down, there’s likely nothing happening at all just as you mentioned. We go out and try and find these guys, we don’t find shit, then we end up back here laughing the rest of our lives away.”
Chenle seems the furthest away from calm but gives in anyway, “Fine, but let’s discuss details later, I’m starving.”
October 26th
It was three in the morning by the time you guys had arrived beside some alleyway in the southern area of the city. Chenle’s car had stayed parked as you guys began discussing the plans for tonight.
“So i’ll be walking down the alleyway on the northern side, Chenle you stay here guarding the car, Jisung you need to make sure to stay free in case a fledgling pops up out of nowhere, Renjun you stay on the east side, Xiaojun you stay outside of the restaurant at the end of the alleyway.”
“I still don’t think this is a good idea.” Chenle says, mostly to you. You ignore him shifting focus on Xiaojun.
“You brought the Walkies right?”
“Of course I did.” He opens the bag on his shoulder, passing one walkie-talkie each to the entire group.
“How can you afford this many,” Renjun asks.
Xiaojun shrugs, “You can find anything on the web.”
Jisung grabs onto his walkie tightly, you turn to face him taking in the doubtful expression he has. “Jiwi, don’t worry i’ll be okay. You have faster reflexes and better hearing than any of us, so don’t be scared.”
He nods, it’s weird for him to be in this position now. Jisung wasn’t used to being the one who stood out, he actually preferred to be the one in the background most days. This time he had no choice, he played the most important role here and that was to keep you safe.
“Could we talk for a bit?” He feels Chenle’s hand on his shoulder pulling him to the side. He follows the elder walking off to the side where their conversation won’t be overheard.
“I know this whole vampire thing is new to you too, it’s new to all of us and i’m not trying to put more weight on your shoulders but–“ He takes in a deep breath. “Please protect my sister. She’s very capable of standing up for herself most of the time, hell she even scares me sometimes but this isn’t a regular person we’re dealing with according to you both.”
“I swear Chenle, I didn’t want her to do this in the first place but,”
“She has a mind of her own,” He sighs, “I’m well aware.”
“I won’t let anything happen to her, I know she’s your sister and you love and care about her a lot but she’s also very important to me too. I lo–“ He cuts himself off, “I care a lot about her.”
“You don’t have to hide it anymore Sung, well if you could consider making googly eyes at y/n anytime you’re around her ‘hiding’.”
Jisung covers his shy smile before responding, “I didn’t think you noticed.”
“Well everyone did, except y/n of course, she’s denser than you’d think. I have no problem with you, you’re my best friend and I know what kind of person you are and how much you care about her, but I need you to promise that you will keep her safe tonight. If anything were to ever happen to her, I’d kill you. Literally.”
Jisung knew that as much as he loved you, Chenle was always going to be protective over you. It’s not a fact that anyone really dwells on, but for a large part of your upringing it was Chenle who was helping take care of you. Your parents were always out on business and yes there were nannys for you both growing up but still, nobody felt more of a responsibility for you than Chenle did even at the age of 6.
That’s why it means so much that he’s telling Jisung to watch over you. It means he trusts him enough to lift the weight off of his own shoulders, and make sure you’re happy and healthy, even outside of this insane situation and in a real relationship.
“I’d kill myself before letting something happen to her.” Jisung replies truthfully. He meant it, he’d never be able to forgive himself for not keeping you safe. The thought scares him, a life without you would be no life worth living.
Chenle nods, “Then make sure we all end up in one piece, including yourself, I’m not sure how my sister would feel going bowling with a dead man.”
“Well i’m halfway there.” His friend laughs, slapping his shoulder.
“Let’s get back to the rest.”
“Y/N, check check,” There’s no reply, “Hello? Y/N can you hear me?”
You pick up the walkie bringing it to your lips, “Xiaojun if you don’t shut up, this plan isn’t going to work.”
The voice comes through again this time in a whisper, “Sorry.”
As you walk the alleyway you realize two things. One, you have to take in a stray cat, there’s way too many roaming these streets and two, city sewage is disgusting. The smell is strong and disgusting, it’s like something died.
You roam the alleyway silently, no activity happening whatsoever. At this point it feels like you’ve been walking for a solid five minutes, even though you’ve only been there for less than a minute. It’s until you turn the corner that you hear a noise from behind you.
You beg to the angels that Jisung can hear or see everything going on, before prompting yourself to run. You start running, the footsteps behind you going into sync with your own.
You fight the urge to look back, hearing the footsteps only get closer. You hold your breath turning the corner, it feels like your lost for a moment, your brain not processing the route your on and only trying to get you to safety.
It’s when you take another right that you feel an arm hook onto your jacket, you rip it off of yourself, not in the mood to fight for your favorite jacket and become a late night snack for the fledgling.
You keep running forward, a light luminating at the end of the alley, only as you get closer you realize it’s a dead end.
‘Fuck.’
You reach into your pocket snatching the walkie out only a few feet away from the wall. “Code Black, Dead end.”
Renjun’s voice rings out, “Left or Right?”
“Right–“ The walkie in your hand is thrown out of the way, the fledgling grabbing onto your hand and throwing you against the wall with brute force.
You gasp once you look into its face, the fangs resemble that of a vampire but nothing else. Its skin reeks of rotten flesh, pieces of skin and bones protruding off of different parts of its body.
You hold in a gag as it pulls in close, it’s in that moment that you’re able to think fast and use the force of your elbow to push it off of you. You try running towards the walkie but it’s too fast, gripping onto your leg and pulling you backwards.
You use your leg to kick it away, the walkie is about a foot away, you crawl over and reach for it, successfully grabbing it. “Code Red! I repeat Code Re–“
Jisung appears in that moment, grabbing onto the fledgling and throwing it against the wall. You stare in shock, the adrenaline from the attack still running through your veins. Jisung is strong, but that fledgling puts in a good fight.
He throws the creature once again this time to the ground, baring his fangs in anger as he grips the throat of the fledgling. He’s so out of it, is intent is to kill, that’s until he hears your voice ring out.
“Jiwi!”
He turns to face you, taking note of the way your leg was bleeding. His grip loosens, the creature already unconscious as he makes his way towards you.
“What happened? Why are you bleeding?” His worried eyes meet your own.
“I think when it dragged me its claws pierced my leg, it’s okay though i’m fine.” You say out of breath.
“Y/N!” Chenle runs towards the both of you, Renjun by his side.
“Holy shit, this is real. All of this shit is real.” Renjuns eyes are wide in fear.
“Yeah and instead of helping my sister you froze.” Chenle says angrily.
“I–“ Renjun stutters out, “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t believe my eyes.”
“Hey it’s okay, I’m fine. Jiwi got here just in time.” You say standing up with his help.
“I beg to fucking differ, you’re bleeding.” Chenle points at the blood on your leg.
“Hey it’s okay, it’s nothing just a little blood.” You pat your brother’s shoulder.
“Where is Xiaojun?” Renjun says suddenly, all of you going silent.
“This one was the only one, I didn’t spot any other creature nearby so he should be getting here soon.”
The tension is still in the air, Chenle turning towards Jisung. “You were almost too late, whatever happened to your promise?”
“I got here as fast as I could.”
“Bullshit.” He sticks his finger directly to Jisung’s chest.
“Guys–“ Renjun’s voice warns, though not fast enough.
“What promise? I’m okay, why are the two of you acting as if i’m dead.” You make out before sharp fangs meet your shoulder. You feel a strong surge of pain, your body feels like it’s been set ablaze. Within an instant you fall to your knees, Jisung turning around to pull the creature off of you.
He’s able to push it back, but this time it’s much more stronger, it throws him to the floor getting ready to plunge onto you again before Chenle gets in it’s way, a wooden plank in his hand. He uses the blank to block the creature from attacking, Renjun running to pick Jisung up from the floor.
The creature snaps the wood in half, causing Chenle to fall beside you, before it can attack once more, a noise sounds from behind it catching its attention.
“Hey!” Xiaojun yells out, the creature turns around. He sprays it in the eyes causing it to go blind, it screeches, Jisung attacks causing it to go unconscious again, this time making sure it’s out fully.
The group take deep breaths processing the scene. Your body feels better from the bite, though your brother refuses to leave your side.
“What the fuck was that?” Chenle says at the same time Jisung asks, “Pepper spray?”
Xiaojun shrugs, “Hey I told you, you could find anything on the web.”
Going to the hospital for the third time this month wasn’t something Jisung would’ve guessed in his monthly bingo card, he was mostly losing anyway, who would’ve thought becoming a vampire was more plausible than getting tickets to a Def Leppard tour.
Kun sits to the corner of the room in his office, using a computer to research whatever the heck is wrong with that thing they captured. Jisung turned his attention to the left, where you sat, Chenle guarding you like a dog.
He wanted to go to you, ask how you were feeling and if your leg was hurting, but he knew better than to interfere especially when Chenle was staring darts at him. He sighs trying to piece together what might have happened.
Thinking back on it, it was in a flash. He saw a man with a mask pass by the deeper end of an alleyway. He made the choice to follow after, realizing that might be the thing they were looking for. It was the second he got too close that the figure stared right into him.
A loud ringing noise sounded into his ear. He tried to keep staring, to make sure the figure wouldn’t disappear. But the closer he got the louder the sound was, and the closer he got the more it became obvious. This wasn’t a creature such as the one who attacked him before, this was a real life person, a Vampire.
He’d heard the sound of your screams and it was able to snap him out of his trance, the man disappeared in front of him and within the next second he went towards the sound of your voice and attacked the monster.
He wished you didn’t end up hurt in the process, it was his fault for becoming a vampire and even dragging any of you into this. It was a bite that Kun said would have no effect on you whatsoever, but he still couldn’t help but feel angry at himself for not handling everything better.
He took in a heavy breath before Kun spoke up calling the attention from all of you. “I have gotten into contact with a few friends of mine, they suggest that it’d be better for the fledgling to stay here, while they come to further analyze it.”
“So then what do we do in the meantime?” Your voice comes out smoothly.
“You are in no position to help, none of you are. I understand you guys want to help but this is a battle for us to do, Jisung shouldn’t have even been part of this.”
Before you’re able to argue, Jisung’s voice interrupts. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Kun sighs, getting a signal from his pager, “Look, I know you all want to help but it’s just not safe. Head back home and stay there, especially in the nighttime. That goes for you too, Jisung.”
The lot of you walk your way out of the hospital, waiting within your group for a signal to leave.
“Okay,” You speak, “I say we give it til tomorrow night then we go out again, who knows how many more of those creatures are out roaming. We could definitely try capturing as many as possible.”
“Y/N. You got hurt, we’re not going to do this anymore.” Chenle replies. The rest of the group staying quiet until Renjun speaks.
“I think it’s better we listen to what Kun said, this isn’t our battle to fight, we have no part in this. To try and get in between could end up with all of us dead, that’s like horror stupidity 101.”
Jisung can’t even laugh at the irony with the situation at hand.
“But it does involve us, our city and people are in danger and you want us to hold back?” You argue, “I’m not going to sit back and wait for more people to die or end up victims to those things.”
“You can’t save everyone, Y/N don’t you realize that?” Chenle shouts, “You could have been that exact person you’re talking about and you still want to risk it?”
“That didn’t happen though,” You reply, “Jisung got there just in time.”
“Jisung didn’t get there on time, if he did then you wouldn’t be standing here with that bite on your shoulder.”
Jisung flinches at the words, he knows that Chenle is still mad at him, and honestly he’s mad at himself too. It was a big risk for everyone to be there. None of you know anything about these creatures and it could’ve ended with everyone dead, and the fault would be on Jisung.
He let you take control when he knew that it was unsafe. He’s a vampire now, he isn’t like the rest of you. If he were to go alone he would be fine, a scratch, a bite, anything and he would be okay but that wasn’t the same for you guys.
“Chenle is right, I shouldn’t have even thought this would be okay. I put you all in danger tonight.”
“No, Jisung don’t say that,” You interject, “This was all my plan, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Except for promising to keep you safe but of course he can’t do shit right can he?” Chenle spits out.
“Hey guys what the fuck.” Xiaojun tries intervening.
“You can’t put the blame on him, it was my idea on the first place.”
“And yet he knows better than to listen to your stupid ideas.”
Jisung can’t help but feel a rush of anger, not when Chenle is purposefully trying to dig into his skin. “Like you’re any better than me?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Guys seriously, cut it out.” Renjun whispers, “People are staring.”
“You know exactly what the fuck I mean. The reason Y/N had to leave to study abroad in the first place.” A flash of hurt passes through Chenle’s face but Jisung is too far deep to stop, “You’re just upset that you couldn’t protect her yourself because you were so in your own head you couldn’t tell when your sister needed you.”
“Fuck you Park Jisung, like you ever meant anything to anyone here. The only reason half of the people you know are friends with you is because of me. You had nobody then and I felt sorry for you, so if you think you’re better than me news fucking flash you aren’t.”
The group goes silent save for your voice, “What the fuck is wrong with the both of you? Seriously you’re going to speak over me? I don’t need any of your help I didn’t need it then or even now.”
Jisung looks at you, tears brewing and ready to fall over. “Jisung what would you know about why I studied abroad? You think some high school bullying was gonna drive me away that’s not the kind of person I am. And Chenle, Seriously? You know for a damn fact that Jisung is as important to us as we are to him.”
You take in a breath, tears finally spilling from your eyes. “I’m not going to deal with the two of you fighting anymore, this is not why I wanted to come back early.” You walk away leaving the rest of the group quiet.
Renjun pulls onto Jisung’s arm urging him to step away, “Let’s go for now, the both of you could use some time away to cool off.”
The day had been slower than it usually felt, it was almost time to clock out for the night and even though the past three days were busy work days, it still felt weird. Jisung was used to late night arcade trips with his friends but of course being so stubborn meant neither him or Chenle had reached out to the other.
As far as he knew, Xiaojun was probably with his friend right now, whenever they two had their little petty fights. This time was different though, it was the biggest and longest fight they’d ever had and they had been friends for practically a decade now.
It also hurt that in the past days he hadn’t heard from you, he knew you were upset and didn’t want to talk to him but would it kill you to reach out and just let him know you made it home safely? You walked out on your own, even with wild fledglings roaming the streets, that was a scary thought.
“You’ve been playing this song on a loop for the past twenty minutes.” Renjun groans.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize now I feel bad.”
Jisung stays quiet, sweeping the floor as Renjun sits at the counter reading some horror comic. Renjun sighs placing the comic down before calling after Jisung, “Come on let’s talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Sure there isn’t, there’s also no reason you’ve been playing Love Bites, your comfort song, for the past half an hour.”
“You said it was twenty minutes earlier.”
“And that doesn’t matter, tell me what’s going on.”
Jisung takes a seat beside Renjun, looking down as he speaks, “I just. Me and Chenle have never gone this long without speaking. I don’t even know why I said what I did, Chenle isn’t at fault for anything. I just couldn’t bite my tongue this time, not when he was blaming me.”
Renjun nods so he continues, “I was trying you know, when I found out I didn’t want to tell any of you about any of this. I was going to just disappear, hide out with Taeyong probably and live out my early vampire days there but y/n found out right after I did.”
It’s true, he’d even mentioned it to Taeyong once and the elder had said he would be okay with it. It’d make it easier to stay on track of his blood intake and plus Jisung wouldn’t have to be alone.
“Well i’m glad you didn’t just leave, It would be really hard trying to find a new part timer to take your place,” Renjun jokes. “But also, you should know Chenle was just being protective over y/n. I’m not saying he’s in the right, he didn’t have to keep pushing your buttons and i’m sure he’s thinking about that now.”
Jisung scoffs, “I doubt it.”
“Jisung.” His voice is stern, “Chenle does care about you, you’re his best friend. I’m not going to sit and defend either of you, I think the both of you were immature, and frankly I think Y/N deserves an apology most right now.”
He’d tried, only everytime he showed up to your house he got too scared that Chenle would answer the door, and he couldn’t exactly just sneak in, Vampire rules got in the way of that.
“Stop being a loser and talk to them. It’s what’s best for all of us, and yes I say yes. Xiaojun’s been calling nonstop everyday asking if i’ve made any progress with you.”
Jisung laughs, “Has he made any with Chenle?”
I don’t know why don’t you see for yourself.” The phone rings prompting Renjun to stand up from his seat.
Jisung sat for a moment, Renjun walking past him. The faint smell of Iron hit him again, his stomach twisting in hunger. He hadn’t had any blood for the past few days, Taeyong had said there was a delay in receiving any. A shortage apparently, and he’s willing to bet that’s because of the increasing number of fledglings flooding the streets.
“Ji, it’s Taeyong.”
Speak of the devil, Jisung gets up and takes the phone in his hand, “Hello?”
“Meet back at my place now and bring your friends.” The line goes silent. He furrows his brows, placing the phone back in its place.
“What’d he say?”
“We have to go, now.”
When Jisung had shown up to Taeyong’s house the last people he thought he’d see was there. Not that he wasn’t going to tell Chenle and Xiaojun to show up, he was pretty sure if Taeyong called him that meant he also called you. There had to be a reason as to how he got Jisung’s work number. The thought only pained him though, he wished you’d just call him.
He meets your eyes for a second before you look away, his heart breaks knowing you’re still angry at him. Chenle approaches you, and you only step away ignoring his presence. Jisung won’t lie, the petty part of him is really enjoying the fact that he’s not the only one on your bad side right now.
Taeyong enters the room garnering attention from the group, Kun on his side. “So, the results came in–“
“You are not the father?” Xiaojun whispers, earning confused looks from everyone else. “Sorry.”
Kun clears his throat, “It’s just as we thought these are not normal fledglings. It seems that a lot of these happen to be undead folks who were brought back and turned into Vampires.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Chenle asks.
“Like night of the living dead?” Renjun inquires.
“Precisely. We’re completely unsure as to how this is possible, but it seems there is a very strong sorcerer who is using necromancy to bring back the dead.”
“Sorcerer? Like a witch? There’s witches?” You say in pure disbelief.
“There are,” Taeyong speaks, “Though the magic form of Necromancy is forbidden, it appears that’s the case here.”
“A witch is turning them into vampires after bringing back zombies?” Jisung looks to Renjun, “I’m fully sober right?”
“I know it may seem hard to grasp but think of it this way. You know Vampires and Wolves exist, well so do Demons, Witches, Fae, and all sorts of things. This sorcerer, they aren’t a weak one, and they’re most likely working with a Vampire as well.”
Jisung recalls back to the night you’d been attacked. There was a man who had somehow been able to stop him, what if that were the sorcerer they were referring to?
“I can’t believe this, Vampires are one thing but for there to be more than just that?” Renjun starts.
“It’s true. I think I saw them, the sorcerer that is.”
The room is silent as Jisung reiterates the night in his memory, Chenle looking to the side with guilt in his eye.
“In that case then what you say is true. We need to put an end to this.” You speak up.
“How many undead fledglings have been reported?” Jisung looks to Kun and Taeyong.
“From what it seems,” Taeyong starts, “The increase of vampire attacks and vampire numbers have been about thirty and ten within this past month.”
“Ten? that doesn’t seem so bad.” Xiaojun says.
“Ten doesn’t seem like much until you add them to the amount of people who need blood supply. It’s hard for fledglings as they aren’t sure how to hunt without accidentally killing someone. They need around six pints of blood per week, and with more people choosing to stay inside then it makes it harder for us to supply said vampires with blood.”
“So you’re saying there’s a blood shortage for Vampires right now and it’s mostly caused by some guy who’s overpopulating them?” You reply.
“Precisely, this is a major problem, not to mention this isn’t any mistake. The rise of vampires would mean he could be building his own army.”
“A Zombie-Vampire hybrid army? For what purpose?”
Kun turns to Chenle, “To take over this city, and eventually maybe the world.”
Jisung didn’t want to panic but the thought was terrifying. Not only would this put a risk on all of his loved ones, but this wouldn’t work out for Vampires either. There’s only one way that this could all end, and that’d be with the entire world bursting into flames, not literally but also sort of literally. “There’d be no one left.”
Taeyong nods, “Which is why we must act fast, Kun and I are trying to track down the area we believe these creatures are spawning from.”
“Holy crap this is so much like a video game.” Xiaojun whispers under his breath.
“Wait,” Chenle’s voice speaks through everyone, “I think I might know for sure.”
The rest of the group look to him waiting his response, “When I was guarding the car I thought I saw the creature guy run along through the buildings before he was able to reach y/n. I don’t know how he didn’t notice me, but he just walked past. It looked as if he came from the upper northern buildings.”
“The abandoned Church.” Renjun adds, “That place has a deeper underground level, I wouldn’t be shocked to find out that happens to be the witches lair.”
“Well then it seems we know exactly where this place is, we can meet up there tonight, Three AM Halloween’s eve.”
The groups agrees, everyone beginning to grab their stuff and head out. Jisung notices you and begins to take a few steps towards your direction, he’s too late though. You sped off before he could even get a word in which he realizes was on purpose, you’re still mad at him.
He’s about to turn the other way when a hand taps on his shoulder. “We have to talk.” Chenle says, walking away in hopes Jisung was following him out, he was.
It’s silent as the two of them sit outside on some random bench that was right in Taeyong’s neighborhood. The sound of kids passing through on their bikes is the only sound before a peaceful quietness fills the air. Well, peaceful is an understatement, the air was thick with awkwardness.
Jisung thinks of what to say, he doesn’t want to keep this fight going but he also isn’t sure how to approach the conversation. He gives himself time to come up with a sentence, but to his surprise it’s Chenle who speaks first.
“I’m sorry.” Jisung blinks at him in shock, “I realize now how unfair I was acting, you only tried your best and you did well in protecting y/n. I was scared in the moment, it sounds like an excuse but it’s true. I love my family, but Y/N is my sister, she means the most to me and I realize now even as I can’t control her, you can’t either.“
Jisung sighs, “No a part of you was right, I promised you I wouldn’t let her get hurt and I couldn’t even keep that.”
Chenle shakes his head, “No, you did all that you could and in the end it was good enough, she’s here and she’s perfectly fine. She’s ignoring the two of us but besides that she’s normal.”
“Yeah she’d always be the one most angry at us whenever we would get into our fights.”
Chenle laughs, “Ugh don’t remind me. That brings me to my other apology, Jisung in case you didn’t know I’m a liar. You do mean a lot to me, how could you not? You are the closest friend i’ve ever had. All of what I said was only to hurt you, I’m not gonna lie, when you told me I was the one who couldn’t protect y/n a part of me was so angry. I wanted you to hurt the way your words hurt me, the way I was hurting me, so I said that but I never meant it.”
Jisung takes a deep breath, dammit he really was an easy crier. “I was only saying that to hurt you, it isn’t true in the slightest. There’s nobody who has watched over Y/N the way you have. She’s practically a child you raised since your parents weren’t always around. I’m sorry I ever said that because it only diminishes the hard work you put into helping raise y/n.”
“Don’t give me the credit, she’s raised herself perfectly with the time she’s been abroad. But thank you.”
“I hate arguing with you, I hate for you or y/n to be mad at me.”
“That’s your people pleaser speaking. I know you’re still upset cause Y/N hasn’t spoken to you, maybe you should talk to her?” Chenle Suggests.
“If I could I would, I don’t want to annoy her if she doesn’t even want to be around me right now though. I understand her anger, we shouldn’t have tried to make it seem as if she needed protection or a guard or anything, she’s a free spirit, it’s who you have known her as your whole life, and the person I fell in love with.”
Chenle pushes Jisung’s shoulder playfully, “You are so in love with her I don’t know how you ever thought you were being subtle. I think all she’s waiting for is for you to reach out. As for me, she’s only mad because I was too stubborn to want to talk to you.”
“Did you only come here to apologize so y/n would talk to you?” Jisung raises his eyebrow.
“No! I am really sorry, I was just being a stubborn asshole about it.”
“So your usual self.” Another hit to the shoulder, “I’ll talk to her and apologize fully.”
“You better. We have bigger fish to fry now, there’s a psycho witch on the loose as you know.” Chenle stands up from the bench. “I’ll leave you to your moment of silence if that’s what you want but before I go I want to let you know. There’s nobody else, besides me of course, that my sister has ever cared for in her entire life.”
“What does that mean?” Jisung says, Chenle already beginning to walk away.
“Nope, you talk to her and ask her what I mean! By the way, meet up at my house when you’re done, we have a crazy witch to catch!”
October 30th
It was only hours after they’d met up at Taeyong’s house, this time everyone stood in the living room of Chenle’s two story house. It was only an hour until Kun and Taeyong said they’d show up, the rest of the ‘Supernatural Hunters’, as Xiaojun had called them, were readying themselves.
Renjun had mentioned that maybe if everyone had their own pepper spray among other things, they’d be better able to protect themselves. So Xiaojun had searched the web and found packs of smoke bombs, protective goggles, and holy water, which Jisung had told him wouldn’t work.
He’d also found some costumes at the local department store he thought would be very fitting for tonight, which is why the group of four boys were currently dressed in beige. Jisung hadn’t seen y/n, not since earlier today or well yesterday, it’s got him feeling anxious. It’s hard for him to pay any attention, even now as Taeyong and Kun show up and begin to explain the plans, he isn’t focused.
“Okay then it’s settled, we’re going to break into this place and wreak havoc.” Xiaojun smiles smugly, this is a video game fantasy of his coming true.
“Not exactly, though given the dangers of being attacked by these monsters, I was able to secure these for those of you who aren’t able to defend yourselves.” Kun unwraps a fabric bag, sharp knives falling onto the table below.
Gasps are heard, Jisung’s friends reaching in to grab onto some, Jisung is about to grab one until Taeyong stops him. “Those aren’t ordinary, they have wolf’s venom imbedded in them. A touch of yours especially in your current state, could only end up making you weaker.”
Right, Jisung hadn’t had an ounce of blood in days, he really needed to find some and quickly. It was unsafe to go so long without any bags, Taeyong had asked if she was rationing his bags. He failed to mention that the bags he’d had ran out a long time ago.
“So these could kill Jisung?” Renjun says, his finger tracing the blade.
“More so temporarily disable him, unless you’re planning on stabbing him, in that case yes he would cease to exist.”
A chill runs down Jisung’s spine, he can already feel the effects of going so long without feeding. Before anyone can call over Jisung’s attention, the sound of footsteps enter the room.
You stood there eyebrows furrowed, stepping closer to the group. “What are you guys supposed to be? Ghostbusters?” Kun masks a chuckle with his hand.
“What are you doing here?” Chenle pulls you to the side.
“I was invited here just as you guys were?” You say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on now, keep up.”
“I don’t think you should do this, what about your bite.”
“My bite is fine, I can move my leg and arm perfectly so there’s no problem here.”
“Y/N,” Jisung calls to you with his voice low, the first words he’s said to you in the past days, “can we talk, before you make your decision?”
You sigh, nodding your head. As much as you were still angry at him, he seemed like he had a lot to say. He also looked like shit, which you couldn’t tell if that was because of the fact you hadn’t spoken to him in almost a week.
He pulls you into the kitchen, which is a much bigger open space and reminds you of the last time you guys sat here together, the start of this entire fiasco.
He fidgets with his fingers refusing to meet your eye, “I want you to know I’m sorry. I never meant to make it seem like you couldn’t protect yourself or make your own decisions, I only want to keep you safe.”
“That’s it Jisung, I don’t need any of you keeping me safe. Not my brother and sure as hell not you.”
“I know but please, hear me out.” His eyes are wide with panic. You take in the dark under eyes he has along with the unnatural paleness, he looks tired. “The reason I want to keep you safe is because you mean so much more to me than just a friend or Chenle’s sister. You’re so sweet and understanding, I care about you so much that the last thing I could even think about before I turned into this thing was you.”
You’re at a loss of words so he continues, “I have loved you for ever y/n, since the day I met you I knew you would be the most important person to me for the rest of my life and I was scared i’d never be able to tell you that if something were to happen to me. And now i’m even more scared that something could happen to you.”
“I understand but nothing is going to happen.”
“How can you be so sure? I was sure I’d walk back home and eat some noodles and then I became this.” He gestures to himself, “It was scary enough seeing you get bitten, and maybe you’re okay but I’m not. I can’t have that happen again because I can’t lose you, not before I ever got to tell you how much I love you or after.”
“Ji, look at me.” You pull his attention onto you, grabbing onto the front of his shirt. “I’m going to be fine.”
“But what if you’re not,” His voice cracks.
“I am. I’m always going to be okay as long as i’m with you.” You wipe the tear from his face. He stares into your eyes, there’s something so soothing about the way you look at him, maybe that’s what Chenle was referring to earlier. The sparkle in your eyes was enough to convince Jisung that there was an entire galaxy within them, that’s why you were able to see the world in such a different light.
He can’t help but get lost in them, leaning into you. You take that moment to close the gap, meeting his lips with your own, soft and gentle. It’s a small kiss, but it has deadly effect, within the next minute Jisung is leaning into you for more.
Hunger evident in the way he kisses you the second time. His tongue slides against your bottom lip asking for entry, you accept, tasting everything sweet on his tongue. His teeth bite your lip, the taste of iron filling your mouth. You pull away from the kiss, immediately touching the small wound on your lip.
Jisung steps away from you, regret filling his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”
“Hey it’s okay, it’s just a small bite it barely hurts at all.” You say with a smile hoping he isn’t too worried. He covers his face refusing to meet your eyes, “Jisung, are you okay?”
You grab onto his hands uncovering his face. He has beads of sweet dripping down his skin that’s hot to the touch, his fangs peaking out and his skin paler than before. “Jisung what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine you look like you’re about to pass out.” It registers in your head, “Have you fed?” He stays quiet refusing to look anywhere but to the floor.
“You have to feed Ji, you could die.”
“I have no blood, there’s been a shortage there’s nothing for me.”
“Well you have to drink, you’ll die.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Well I won’t.” You reply sternly, the idea comes to your mind quickly, you push your hair back revealing your neck. “Drink.”
“Y/N I can’t do that, I could end up hurting you.”
“You are hurting yourself and that hurts me, please just drink.”
The sharp sting is enough to make you hiss out in pain, but the feeling afterwards is pure bliss. You feel on cloud from the feeling of the blood flowing, all you can hear is the sound of Jisung’s breathing so close. You can feel the way his arms wrap around you, keeping you from falling at the lightheaded feeling.
It feels like you guys have been in this position forever, your eyes fluttering closed in comfort. It’s when you feel weaker that you finally call out for Jisung, “Ji, Is that enough?”
He mumbles too low for you to understand, he continues to drink out of you. You hands go to his head tugging at his hair, he lets out a groan pulling away. “You taste so good.”
You smile, trying to recollect your balance. “Feel better?”
“So much better.” He whispers into your ear, tickling you and making you giggle. “Come on, we have to go now.”
He whines, “Do we have to?”
“Yes, they’ve been waiting for long enough.” You say covering the bite on your neck and dragging him back to the group.
“It’s time. Keep those blades on you at all times, call for Jisung and I if you happen to get into close contact with the target,” Taeyong goes over the plan again, “Kun will stay out and watch, code Red if you’re in danger and need immediate assistance.”
“We got this.” You say enthusiastically.
“Speak for yourself, i’m shitting bricks right now.” Xiaojun holds onto his stomach.
“The faster we figure out who the fuck is behind this, the faster everything will go back to normal.” Renjun pats his back.
“Alright then, let’s get these bitches!” Chenle shouts.
The silence that filled the place was unexpected to say the least. Their group had been walking around the Church and there were no strange noises whatsoever. There was no sign of any creatures either, so they began to doubt if this was the right place.
“I think we got it wrong, nobody is in here.” Xiaojun speaks up.
“Where else would they be hiding? All of the attacks have been close to this place.” Chenle argues.
It’s faint, but behind the talking the group is doing Jisung hears footsteps. He tries to shut out the voices in front of him, beginning to listen out further. “There’s something.” Jisung says shushing the group.
“Do you hear anything?” You ask, trying to listen out also.
“I can’t hear shit.”
“Jisung’s right, it sounds like someone is here.” Taeyong says, sniffing out a horrible smell.
“God, what the fuck is that,” Xiaojun covers his nose, “Where the fuck is this even coming from?”
Your eyes go wide seeing the creature appear out of nowhere. “Right there!” You yell out, pointing out the group of fledglings running at your group at an ungodly speed.
The next few moments are full of bloodshed. Or whatever Vampire Zombie hybrids had, Jisung wasn’t too familiar with their anatomy. He didn’t have much time to think it over anyway, not when he was in the middle of fighting them off.
He successfully manages to knock one unconscious and looks to his friends who seem to be doing okay holding their own. There’s a few bodies of the hybrids on the floor, which should be a relieving fact, but not when he can sense that there’s more on the way.
Suddenly he feels his body fall to the ground. The hybrid climbing over him to get to Chenle who was busy fighting another kind. Jisung drags the figure back, clawing at it to keep it from getting away. It screeches at him, shoving him once again but this time he’s able to keep it held down.
A shout is heard from Taeyong across the room, “Jisung! Don’t let him get away!” Jisung looks up seeing the man from before slipping out through the back of the stairs.
Jisung runs along following after him, catching up to him fairly quickly. “You, why are you doing this?”
The man stops in his tracks, turning around to face Jisung straight on. He charges forward, knocking Jisung back with his strength. “Come on, fledgling. You charge in here and yet you stand so weak.”
Jisung stands up, “Who are you?”
“Wrong question.” The man charges forward once again, his fists landing blows all over his body. Jisung is able to catch his first and flip the man over, knocking him down.
“I asked you two already.” Jisung pulls forward trying to pull off the mask of the man under him. He feels his body fly back from the force of the person’s legs kicking him.
“I made you who you are.” He tells Jisung, his voice rich with cockiness, “You dare stand in front of me? You dare to question me. I made all of you and I can just as well erase you, I am the beginning and the end.
Jisung groans in annoyance, “Don’t speak in riddles man just tell me who you are.” He dodges another attack from the man.
Jisung is quick with his movements, but his opponent isn’t any different. As he continues to dodge the man’s efforts to attack him, he takes a split second to grab a hold of one of the wooden crosses on the wall.
The man charges forward again, this time Jisung is able to separate the two of them using the cross. The person pushes forward using all of his strength, for the first time in this fight Jisung finds himself struggling to fight back.
It’s when an explosion is heard that Jisung is able to use the distraction as a way to take control again. He pins his opponent down, searching into his pocket for the pepper spray. The man fights back, flipping him and Jisung over and wrapping his hands around Jisung’s throat.
The feeling of losing consciousness slowly creeps up on Jisung, searching his pocket desperately for the spray. His hands wrap around it, pulling it out of his pocket and spraying the man where his eyes are.
In the next second, Jisung is able to gain control and push him down, snatching the mask from off of his face. “You–“ He gasps, “No, I don’t know who you are?”
Silence fills the air, “Of course you wouldn’t, you don’t know anything.”
“Who the hell are you? Why are you doing this in the first place?”
“Because people like them don’t need to exist.” The man points to where the group continue to fight against the mob. “They used to be the ones killing us, we stayed innocent and yet so many of them couldn’t wait to call us Satan’s children.”
The ringing fills Jisung’s ears again, making it hard for him to move. “What?”
“And yet you stand here, bonding with humans, as if they aren’t the reason half of our population are dead.”
Jisung isn’t very sure what to say, he never thought comforting the enemy was going to be part of the plan. It’s until he hears a scream from you that he snaps out of his trance, at this point the enemy in front of him laughs.
“You going to try and save your friends now?”
He hesitates, looking to where you guys are gathered, Taeyong frozen in fear. HIs hesitation was long enough for the man to begin to step back, so Jisung pulls the knife you had given him earlier to stop him from getting away.
It stings to the touch, but according to Kun it wasn’t deadly to Jisung unless it penetrated the skin. He runs forward slashing the man in the stomach. Blood dripping from out of everywhere, literally. Who would’ve thought Wolf’s Venom would cause a Vampire to bleed out from their mouth and eyes.
It’s for a second time that he hears a shout, only this time it’s coming from Chenle. A sound Jisung had never heard before. He runs towards your group, the mob seemingly disappearing. Chenle is on the ground, holding onto you. You who happen to be on the floor with blood pooling below you.
“Anyone got a tampon?” You joke, the blood pouring out faster than you’d expected. Your brother stands before you with tears in his eyes threatening to spill. He holds your hand tightly, “Can you not make a joke when you’re not okay.”
“Can you not scold me when I’m dying?”
“You’re not dying.” He shouts.
Jisung is frozen in place, memories with you filling his mind. You can’t die, there’s no way you can die. He hadn’t even got to take you out on a first date.
Taeyong grabs onto you as you slowly begin to fall unconscious. “I’ll take her to Kun.”
“She’s going to be okay right?” Jisung asks the question as if he’s begging for the answer to be yes.
Taeyong frowns, “We will try.”
Chenle is in distress. Renjun tries to pull him back as he tries to follow along. “I can’t leave her.” He pleads, “She can’t leave me.”
Jisung stares at his friend, in all of their years of friendships he would’ve never expected to see this side of Chenle. He also never would’ve expected to see your dying self be taken away by a Vampire.
“Jisung, you promised to save her. Do it, keep your promise.” He flinches at the words. Chenle wants for him to turn you, that would be the only way. And for a moment, he debates it.
October 31st
It had been a day since they had been able to defeat the evil vampire man, which was a stupid way to call him but since Jisung hadn’t exactly known him what else would he say. He’d learned later that the man went by Jackson, he had been an old Vampire, even older than Kun, who had lost his own sister to humans.
Kun had said he’d been a good man, until it’d drove him crazy. His sister was the only family he had left, and with the way he found her bleeding out on the floor, it was enough to make him vow to destroy all of mankind.
Halloween was today, your favorite holiday. You hadn’t woken yet, which Kun said was normal due to the amount of blood you had lost. It was hardly a miracle you had survived. Given the bite you received from Jisung earlier that night you were able to transform. Now they could only wait to hear what you would say once you woke.
Renjun was in the corner coddling Chenle, who was very annoyed over the fact that he wouldn’t stop taunting him for his tears. Renjun was on only child, so he’d never understand.
“It’s okay lele, you can cry some more if you will feel better.” Renjun teased.
“Can you shut up?”
“I’m definitely telling y/n about how you were sobbing all over her!” Xiaojun laughs.
“You tell her anything and I’m going to kill you before you can even finish your sentence.”
“Are you going to cry over his dead body too?” Jisung adds, Chenle frowning at him, “Hey you’re not any different! You cried just as much as I did!”
“You know, I do want to mention I find it odd about how we never saw the Witch and the mob happened to disappear the second Jisung killed Jackson.” Renjun comments.
“I was searching on the web a bit,” Xiaojun starts, “I saw that this legend of the witch has been a thing for a long time. You guys remember the camp attacks from last year? That was around the same time as now.”
The Camp Attacks at Graze town, only an hour away, was all over the news last year. Jisung remembered hanging out at Chenle’s house and peeking at the news station that happened to be reporting on the scene.
Before he can say anything their names are called. Jisung running immediately into your room. He finds you sitting, a blood pint in your hands, just as you’d caught him before.
“Hello, Did you miss me?” You wink, he moves quickly to pull you in for a hug. The rest of the group making their way into the room.
“Super speed, really Jisung?” Renjun Complains.
“Lele!” You call out to him urging him to come closer. He steps forward, Jisung still wrapped around your side. “Come on!” You pull him in for a hug with your arm.
“Ouch.” He says, the strength you used being a little too strong.
“Sorry! I don’t know how Jisung did it so naturally, I keep accidentally overthinking and then using way more strength than necessary.”
“Well you know, i’m a special case.” Jisung smiles, you tsk at him. “You saying i’m not special?”
“Of course not, you’re special to me. Always.”
“Ah you sap!” You playfully hit his arm.
“Gross, can’t you guys not do that in public.” Xiaojun fake gags.
“Do what?” You ask innocently.
“Flirt.” Renjun replies.
You gasp, “Jiwi, are you flirting with me right now?”
He hums, “Now that I think about it, I guess that’s exactly what you could call it?”
Chenle groans, “Oh this is disgusting i’m going to have to deal with this everyday.”
The group laugh, Taeyong stepping in quietly. “If possible, could I have a word with y/n? Alone.”
The rest agree, leaving the room to them both. Jisung refuses to move, whining at the little pat y/n gives him, “Come in Jiwi, just for a second.”
“Actually he can stay,” Taeyong says, “I want to apologize y/n, this would’ve never happened if it weren’t for the fact that I froze mid battle and allowed for you to be left vulnerable. I just–“ He pauses, “I saw, the zombie creature and it looked just like. It looked just like my first love.”
Jisung thinks back to the first conversation they had, the mentions of dating a human. “The human you once loved?”
Taeyong nodded, “I will never forget the look in his face. He’s never wanted to turn, he never wanted an immortal life and there he was. Being forced into the life he never wanted, he was a puppet.”
“You don’t have to explain,” You spoke out, “I can’t imagine being in your position. What matters now is that we’re all okay, and I don’t blame you or anyone for anything.”
“Thank you.” Taeyong cries out, “I’ll let you guys be, i’ve got to visit someone.”
You nod, “Let me know when you’re back home, yeah?” He nods, stepping out of the room and wiping his tears.
“I’m sorry.” Jisung says, his head lowering.
“What for?”
“I realized just now that you never got to choose this life either. You’d turned even if you didn’t want to, all because of me.”
You laugh wholeheartedly, Jisung looking up into your eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s just you’re too cute.”
“Whys this funny?” Jisung blushes.
“Because, I have always loved vampires. I’ve always wished they were real and when I found out you were one,” You took in a breath, “I’d been begging silently that you’d turn me one day.”
“Huh?” Jisung had never known this. And he valued himself on knowing everything about you. How is it that this could’ve slipped his mind?
“I love vampires, hadn’t lele ever told you before?”
The memory rings in his head, ‘She’s a fan of those sharp tooth creatures’
“Who?” Jisung had asked.
“Y/N. I said that already, have you been paying any attention?”
“So all of this time, you loved Vampires?” His eyes widen.
“How else do you think I was able to guess you became one so quickly?”
He’s genuinely appalled, “I watched Jaws for you.”
You laugh again, “Jaws? I’ve never even seen that film.”He covers his mouth, his ears becoming red at the realization. “Come on, you’re so cute I need to kiss you.”
“You lied to me!” He feigns hurt.
“Shut up would you?” You say before pulling him into a kiss. It feels warm and fuzzy and perfect. There’s no better outcome than this one, you have Jisung wrapping his arms around you, his fangs biting on your lip slightly, only making you deepen the kiss more.
A yell from Xiaojun is heard from the door along with scattered footsteps, “I’m traumatized!”
You pull away, biting your own lip to keep yourself from bursting out laughing. Jisung isn’t ready for the end though, so he pulls you in again, this time hoping none of you ever have to pull away.
273 notes · View notes
letsgobarbs · 24 days ago
Text
The Wedding (Acacius Marries His Priestess)
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Summary: This is part of the His Priestess universe but can be read as a stand-alone. Acacius marries his Anaticula.
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Former Vestal!Reader (No use of y/n, terms of endearment are used.)
A/N: Anaticula means little duckie/duckling. Vestals were initiated at ages 5~7ish and served the temple for 30 years before they were permitted to marry, and Acacius is described to be a decade older than the Reader in the original story. I had meant for this to be a nice, fluffy wedding. But then I got my period in the middle of writing this and this grew progressively hornier... so it's a wedding and the wedding night.
Warnings: PDA, loss of virginity, oral sex (both receiving), eating ass (f!receiving), cum eating, unprotected p in v sex, discussions of having children, food play.
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“You must cry.” The Vestal begged.
“Why must I cry? I happen to be very happy today, the tears are not forthcoming.” His anaticula sounded almost petulant, this was not the first time they were having this discussion. Acacius gently stroked his thumb over the side of her finger; their right hands were bound together by wool ribbons, fingers interlocked. 
“The bride has to cry during the wedding procession, show some reluctance and modesty—”
“I am so joyous, I would skip to my husband’s home if I could.” Acacius snorted into his cup of wine, spilling some of the liquid over its edges. He made no effort to suppress his chuckle as he placed the wine down to wipe at his mouth. His lips were still curled into a grin, he found he hadn’t been able to restrain it since he awoke this morning. He cannot decide which sound is sweeter, his name on her lips or her address of him as husband. 
“—it is Roman tradition.” Her friend insisted. 
“I don’t believe I would like to invoke the Roman tradition of kidnapping women for marriage.” Oh, but Acacius had wanted to invoke it several times a day leading up to their wedding. They had been reduced to chaste kisses and clasped hands, always chaperoned by a hawk-eyed matron who would squint at the most gentle caress he dared to share with his betrothed. Now his wife. Her father and brother had insisted it was for his own safety, so their anaticula didn’t attack him again as she had in her office— forcing an honourable man to wed her, they had teased. 
Acacius felt they were having far too much fun at his expense. Because all this honourable man wanted to do was haul her over his shoulders and carry her off to the nearest cave. He wanted to hide her somewhere, not even share her shadow with the world; keep her trapped underneath him until all she could see was him. Alas, he had to settle for buying a domus near her father’s home. He has ensured nobody would interrupt them for the next few days so he could take her over every surface, wall and square foot of the floor before letting her up. Let their pleasure and love strengthen the pillars of their home.   
He had spent over a decade with only his hand for company, but now the few meagre weeks of abstinence riddled his brain with insistent need. His skin buzzed with excitement, a current working its way up his limbs, as it would before a battle, at the very thought of having his Priestess to himself tonight. He had thought up so many ways to unleash that tigress he had encountered in her office.
“You know it is not just about that
 The lares will be upset. Your household deities have guarded you for so long, they will be upset to see you spurn their protection for the gods of your husband’s home. You must cry to let them know you do not leave them willingly.” Acacius paused at the words, he had no lares; there were no spirits of ancestors or deceased family to call upon. 
He had been orphaned young, his whole family was lost to illness and he hardly remembered them. He had long lost faith in the deities and gods. But perhaps marriage was making him sentimental, even if ineffective and symbolic, he did not want his Priestess to go without protection. The shrine in his new home was fashioned with a single wooden statue of Vesta he had carved, it bore a distinct likeness to his Priestess, along with rose-scented incense— reminiscent of her scent. However, he couldn’t invoke her own spirit to protect her now could he— that was for his protection.          
Acacius had given up his previous tools of protection. All his equipment had been military commissioned; as a General, he did not believe in using a weapon that his soldiers could not afford; sometimes well-made weaponry was the difference between life and death, and his life was not more valuable than any of theirs. His gladius was the only weapon he had owned— the very one he had used to defend himself in the Colosseum.
Acacius had melted the sword to make two identical daggers— one of which he had gifted to his Priestess as a betrothal gift, the other he had kept for himself. An engagement ring had also been made from the same metal, which she now wore on the third finger of her left hand where it would connect to her heart. It had felt right to slide that ring onto her finger; it was only fitting that the woman who had rescued and protected him had a piece of the blade that had guarded him. He had vowed to never fight another war. After all the victories and bloodshed across the world, he had returned home to submit at her merciful feet. And there had never been a defeat sweeter than losing himself in her, especially not when he had won her too.   
There had been enough metal left over to form a thin betrothal medallion, engraved with their visages sharing a kiss along with two clasped hands on its back. He knew his Priestess wore the medallion around her neck, a gold chain could be seen disappearing into her tunic, the disk surely nestled between her bosom. Acacius wondered if he should convince her to place the token in their shrine. After all, their love had protected and sustained them both through difficult times. He knew it would guide and watch over any children or descendants they might have.
“Did you want me to cry, Acacius?” She asks him as she draws closer, resting their bound hands on his thigh, easing the stretch of the muscles of his arms and shoulders. He really should unbind their hands, they were sitting beside each other, so he had to stretch his arm across his torso to grasp her hand. But judging by how tightly she held him, she did not want to let go either.
He shook his head no, he did not believe he could stomach seeing her reluctance to marry him even if it was feigned. He had even offered for them to stay with her family if she was unwilling to part with them since she had lived apart from them for the last three decades. 
“Are you sure? I could shed some false ones
 maybe get closer to the smoke so it would make my eyes water”—Acacius kissed the irresistible little moue off her lips—“If I don’t cry then everyone will say you have married a disobedient wife who will tyrannically dominate your home.” She continued her exaggerated words anyway. She didn’t know that he planned to acquiesce to all her commands and requests, he could swim across oceans blazing with fire just to see her smile— he had done worse for much less. 
Acacius watched the sway of her earrings, the metal catching the light from the setting sun behind her. He hadn’t been able to look away from her since he had lifted her flammeum for their wedding ceremony. The flame-coloured veil glittered around her, casting a warm golden glow upon her skin. His priestess was not one for dull colours, but she looked radiant in her white tunic and stola. 
He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, then trailed gentle pecks all the way to her ear where he nibbled on the soft, petal-like skin of her ear lobe before he widened his jaw, tongue reaching out to capture her earring into his mouth. Acacius savoured the coolness of it in the warmth of his mouth as he gently suckled on the jewellery, relishing the shiver that went down her spine. He nuzzled the loose coil of hair behind her ear, knowing she enjoyed the scrape of his beard on her skin— he heard the hitch in her breath. He released the earring in his mouth, letting its wetness streak across her neck.       
“You can cry for me
 later when it is just the two of us.” He whispered to her. But his words did not have the intended effect on her. He watched her eyes waver before skittishly looking over his shoulder, her own shoulders tensed and curled away from him. Acacius retreated and saw the nervousness painting her face, her lips pursed and brows slightly furrowed. 
He playfully nudged her nose with his, “What is it, anaticula?” 
He heard the harsh gulp of her throat, her eyes frantically looking around for the right words. When she looked at him again, her gaze was hesitant and embarrassed. His Priestess cupped his jaw with her free hand, her fingers pinched his earlobe in retaliation before her thumb softly stroked under his eyes. Acacius melted into her loving touch, his eyes drooping shut. 
“You woke so early today
” She smelled of her gardens— flowers, herbs and fresh earth. 
He had awakened well before dawn, but he felt rested and replenished. Usually, the bride and her mother would collect flowers from their garden to weave a wreath on the day of the wedding. But his anaticula’s mother had already passed away. He knew the other matrons of her family would gladly help her, but Acacius had wanted to weave her wedding crown himself. He had decided so when he saw her wear a wreath the day she was to be unjustly punished for unchastity.  
He had sneaked into her room, woken her up with cakes collected from the kitchen before stealing her away to the gardens so they could make her wreath. He had chosen marjoram for honour, love and joy; rosemary for fidelity and loyalty; lavender for devotion; sage for long life; verbena, basil and mint along with roses, lilies and violets. The crown had ended up a bit too heavy but she wore it with grace. 
“And you also went hunting with my father and brother.” An animal had to be sacrificed for the wedding. Acacius had decided to hunt a wild boar himself. The entrails of the animal were read by the auspex for omens and the approval of the Gods. It would not have mattered what the auspices prophesied, he would have hunted every animal in the city until the omens were read in his favour. But the first boar had been enough, the omens had signified a joyous and lasting marriage. After the offerings had been made to the gods, the animal was cooked for their wedding feast. 
“Then you cooked in the kitchens as well.” He hadn’t cooked, he had made the bread needed for their wedding ceremony. It was not supposed to be made by the groom. But in the absence of his Priestess, during the months he had believed her to be dead, Acacius had perfected making bread in the kitchens she used to feed the poor. He had wanted that bread to be offered to the gods, he had wanted that bread to be fed to his bride. It was another token of his devotion. 
“The ceremonies were so long.” She was right, Acacius thought the Pontifex Maximus would never stop talking and praying and chanting. He suspected the man dragged out the wedding ceremony solely out of spite that his Priestess had lied about her death. But he had not heard a single word of the chief high priest, his Priestess had stood before him and he was lost in her adoring, twinkling eyes.
He had always believed her eyes to be wondrous, always bright with mirth and mischief, they found joy in the smallest pleasures of life. A single gaze from her could fall on him like a soothing salve as well as disturb his constitution— make him restless with need and desire. His heart always trembled when she looked up at him through those full lashes. But today her eyes had looked so captivating with the kohl lining them that Acacius had almost stumbled in an effort to get to her. He had blindly signed their marriage contract, unwilling to take his eyes off her for too long.
The only time he had lost sight of her today was when he had cried during her consent of their marriage, his own tears blurring his vision. Theirs was a union of equals, he would never make demands on her wealth and personhood, and she was free to keep the name her parents had graced her; all Acacius had wanted was a chance to spend his remaining life by her side, and the privilege of belonging to her. So he had been dumbfounded and overwhelmed when she had forgone the blessed and auspicious name Gaius to lovingly and proudly take his name during her vows. 
Ubi tu Acacius, ego Acacia. Where you are Acacius, there I am Acacia.
He had not deserved the honour, the name meant very little. It was not what his parents had called him; neither was it a name that held any high esteem in terms of legacy and social standing, nor was it the name bestowed upon him by the people. Acacius was always preceded by General and it was a name tainted with the blood of the innocent. But she had taken that piece of himself he was most ashamed of for herself. And in doing so, she had breathed a new life into it— she was what gave his name honour and worth.
And he was proud to be her Acacius. Ubi tu Acacia, ego Acacius. Where you are Acacia, there I am Acacius.
He had broken the bread he had made over her head, careful not to drop crumbs in her hair, before handing over half as an offering to the Gods. Acacius had fed her that bread, her teeth gently grazing his fingertips, affectionately nipping at them, before she had taken the same piece to feed him. And the bread was sweeter where she had bitten into it. But far sweeter was her mouth when he had sealed their marriage with a kiss. 
There was a rightness, a sense of tranquillity, that had settled about him at the conclusion of the ceremony as their hands were being tied. For the first time, Acacius had been content and at peace. His mind was serene, devoid of the usual demons that haunted him; his heart could taste the rising joy within him, and he could pluck the excitement from the air.  
“So you must be very tired tonight
” Her words had tapered into mumbling, which was so unlike the woman he knew. Acacius figured she was hoping to avoid their wedding night which was a surprise since she was so receptive to his advances. 
“One of the women gifted me this
 salve. Some ointment they got from a trader.” He knew he wouldn’t need to pry for answers, she would work her way to telling him her concerns eventually. 
“And all the other matrons have been looking at me with these faintly pitying looks. At first, I just thought it was because I did not have a mother
 but they sat me down last night for the most interesting conversation.” Her hand left his face to pick a grape before offering it at his lips. Acacius obediently accepted the fruit in his mouth. 
“They said my wifely duties would be very difficult.” She looked at him, as if awaiting a reaction.
“Why? I plan to be the most amenable of husbands, dulcissima.” He dropped an affectionate kiss on her palm. 
“Because of your size, Acacius. They said you would be very big, like a bull”— Acacius choked on the second grape she had shoved into his mouth, a strange sound between a strangled laugh and a cough escaped his mouth—“And it would hurt me very much but I should just lay back and endure. I do not want to endure
” 
Acacius took a moment to appreciate her aggrieved face, “Anaticula, did you not enjoy our play in your office—”
“Yes, about that. It is most uncommon I am told. But that bodes well for our marriage—” he huffed a laugh at the sagely nod she gave, he would have loved to hear her explain to an elderly matron how he had kissed her between her legs. Was that why he had been receiving odd and appreciative glances all day? He felt a flush climb up his neck, how many women had she told?
“I did enjoy it
 but do men do it to compensate for the pain after they have taken their pleasure?” He blinked at her, it wasn’t an unreasonable conclusion based on what she knew.
“I assume
 it should not be too difficult, right?” She said, almost as if convincing herself, “I’m told it is quite nice sometimes
”
“I swear to not do anything that doesn’t please you tonight, dulcissima.” 
“Everything you do pleases me.” She gifted him a soft smile. 
“Even when you believe it will hurt you?” He couldn’t help but tease her. 
“I know you won’t mean to.” And she sounded so certain that he felt a tender spot in his heart give away. He could still taste her essence on his lips. If all she allowed him tonight was to drink from her nectar, he would happily pass away on his knees with his head still buried between her thighs.
“Carissima, I will enjoy our nights together, and I expect you will find your pleasure as well. I will ensure it, because it brings me more joy and gratification than you can imagine—” 
“Can the newlyweds please be mindful that the guests are trying to eat their meals?”
His wife reared back with a soft gasp before turning to face her brother. Acacius was pleased to know he held the same effect on her as she had on him. Because he had been heedless of their wedding party all day. Their guests had been raucous, tittering and chatter filled the air; the wine flowed freely and the food was plentiful. Many people had come up to speak to them, but the conversations never extended beyond pleasantries and congratulations. 
After all, he was no longer an important political force and the highest echelons of society still didn’t know of his Priestess’ influence amongst the people. It was baffling how disconnected the aristocrats could be from those they considered lowly. Moreover, their guests were too busy ingratiating themselves with their young Emperor who was in attendance with his mother.
His wife had pointed out no less than three women who had thrown themselves at Lucius, quietly snickering to him when they were rejected. According to her, a prospective paramour had tough competition in both Fortuna and Ravi— who shared a very interesting history. His anaticula loved gossip, it was the most endearing thing about her. And she had informed him with great relish how both Macrinus and Ravi had been lovers once who chose to lead very different lives after earning their freedom. Macrinus had been different then, but he had slowly rotted and corroded just as his owners had. Ravi would go out of his way to help those Macrinus owned, Lucius and Fortuna included— grieving for the man he used to be. She believed the Emperor would be sharing his lovers. Acacius didn’t care as long as none of them came to disturb him and his wife. 
Acacius pulled his wife to stand, urging the wedding to its final ritual. He unbound their hands, so she could pray to the lares of her father’s home and bid them goodbye. He wordlessly assured their household gods that he would take care of her and keep her happy while leaving an offering of food and coins at their shrine. He watched as his wife’s eyes glazed over with tears, helplessly his hand found her arm offering her warmth and comfort. 
“If the lares are unwilling to part with you, tell them they can find you in my home.” He whispered to her. The words pulled a teary huff of laughter from her. 
“I miss my mother.” She quietly confessed. And Acacius felt his heart break for her. He gently wiped at the tears on her cheek, his nose stinging with his own tears as she leaned into his touch.
“She would have been the happiest at this match”—Her father told her, as he handed his wife a clay mask resembling her mother’s face—“take her with you to your new home. Let her guide and protect your family.” Acacius was grateful for another addition to their shrine.
He could think of no better protector than her mother. Acacius had been young and barely literate when he had arrived in Rome and the woman had shown him enough grace and favour to educate him along with her children. It was at her behest that her husband had trained him as a soldier. As a General, he had learned that diplomacy and negotiation prevented unnecessary bloodshed. While he was no politician, these were skills he had learned as a youth when he had watched the woman run her household and business. He remembered anaticula’s mother to be remarkable, shrewd and protective— qualities that he was grateful ran to her daughter as well.        
She lit a torch from their hearth and passed it to the matron of honour before her father and brother tearfully embraced her to say their goodbyes. As he had no family of his own, this man— his mentor— had served the role of his father in all the wedding rituals while his wife’s brother had served as her guardian. There was an uncertainty in the air, even as the guests had begun the wedding chants and songs. As a groom, he was supposed to put on a show of forcefully ripping his bride from the arms of her family. But he knew his wife did not agree with this particular tradition so he waited for her lead. 
She reached out for him and he pulled her closer by the hand, kissing her knuckles as she stood by his side. But instead of walking together, Acacius stooped to carry her, his arm coming under her hips to offer her a perch, another arm supporting her knees. He shouldered past the curtains and flower garlands on the archway of their door to walk out onto the street.
The entire city seemed to have shown up to see her married; in addition to the passers-by, those who used the charitable services she offered had shown to throw honeyed almonds and walnuts at the newlyweds— shouting their blessings and good wishes for her. Her arms found purchase on his shoulders as she looked over them to wave at someone in the crowd. His wife, overwhelmed and astounded at the love people had for her, buried her face in the crook of his neck, and his skin burned with the tears she shed there. Acacius soothingly rubbed her hip and placed a chaste kiss on her arm. He couldn’t help but feel so proud of the woman he loved. 
She sniffled and collected herself as they neared the neighbourhood crossroads, “Acacius put me down, we have to worship the shrine at the crossroads.” He heaved her higher in his arms to readjust his hold on her and bring her closer to the shrine at the crossroads. She placed a ceremonial coin to the protective gods of the shrine along with some food a boy had carried for her. 
Her friend Aquilia, another former vestal, served as the matron of honour and led their group to his home. While her marriage was not as long as was required for the role, her husband’s love for her had persevered through the three decades of her duties in the Temple. Acacius liked the man, he had vowed to take no other woman in his life and had kept his word. Although, he was still upset that all of the Vestals had suspected his anaticula was alive when he had believed her to be dead, but they had not thought to inform him. 
“Surely you don’t intend to carry me all the way home.” She spoke into the curve of his shoulder. He most certainly will carry her to their home.
“I’m too heavy, you’ll tire yourself.” He didn’t grace that with a response. He had carried men heavier than her; in the heat of the battle he had lifted drawbridges and ship towers. She should know better than to question her husband’s strength, he hadn’t earned his physique without the heavy labour. 
She gave a resigned sigh, he felt her warm breath down the back of his neck. She nuzzled behind his ear, and took a deep breath before her tongue lapped at the sensitive skin. Acacius shivered and his knees weakened, his grip instinctually tightened on her so she would not fall. 
“Carissima, wait
 we are on the street.” He hissed through his teeth while she quietly laughed. She could not have tasted anything other than the light sheen of sweat he had worked up in the warm evening. His anaticula picked a honeyed almond stuck in the folds of his toga and apologetically offered it to his mouth, Acacius did not forget to kiss her fingertips for the gift. She took another sweet treat for herself that had been trapped in a crevice between them. 
Acacius finally set her down when they approached the new domus, allowing the Pontifex Maximus to utter some more prayers while his wife smeared the fat of the boar to honour Ceres, and the fat of a wolf to honour Rome on their doorposts. She tied the wool strings that had bound their hands to the handle of the door. He felt the first stirrings of impatience, to be so close to their home and not have her to himself was making his hands twitch. 
The guests clamoured to warn her to not step on the threshold as she entered her new home— doing so would insult Vesta and bring bad omen. But Acacius simply lifted her again, with an arm under her waist and knees so that her feet were as far from the threshold as they could be and carried her into their home. 
Only their family followed them inside and watched her light the hearth of her new home with the fire from her father’s home. Acacius extinguished the torch and threw the wood at the audience gathered at their door who rushed to catch it. 
It seems his wife was becoming impatient as well because she had begun the prayer and offerings at their shrine without him. Acacius bent to unlace her sandals, removing the single coin she had stashed in her footwear and placing it at the feet of the wooden Vesta in the shrine.
“Does that statue
 look a bit like me?” She murmured. She had yet to discover the depths of his devotion. 
Acacius offered her a lamp and a bowl full of water, “I give you fire and water”—she touched both items—“You are the Domina of this household and master over everything that resides within its walls, including your husband, Carissima.” 
He kissed his wife before turning to his guests, resolutely ushering them out of his home and unceremoniously closing the doors on their teasing and obscene jeers.
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You stared at the nuptial bed. It was small— too small. It would barely fit just Acacius, and that too only in width, because one end of the bed lifted into a curve they would have to rest their back against so their feet didn’t hang off the other end. Or perhaps this wasn’t the nuptial bed because it was here, out in the open courtyard, rather than in your husband’s sleeping quarters. But the bed was finely made, with sturdy wood and soft cushions decorated with roses and crocus petals— a current tingled in your belly at the sight of the aphrodisiac flower. That won’t be needed.
Acacius returned in a huff after seeing off your guests, plopping down on the chaise— because really this can’t be called a bed. You looked down at him, resplendent under the glittering moonlight; it made the grey hairs in his curls glimmer silvery. The torches around the atrium cast playful gold shadows across his face. Instead of a white toga as was the custom, he had chosen to drape the red cloak you had made for him all those years ago, its gold embroidery gleamed against his tanned skin. 
But it was his eyes, that made your heart flutter with the verses of love you didn’t have words to express. Acacius managed to make even the cold, luminous moon burn bright and hot in his eyes. Sometimes the way he looked at you still made your heart feel raw and vulnerable. You had waited thirty very long years for him to simply look at you— to recognise you. While you had loved him for as long as you could remember, never once had you hoped for his love too. Your younger self would be in disbelief had you told them one day he would be your husband.     
“Are you hungry?” He asked while stretching out his hand for you. 
You hurriedly shook your head, your insides were suffused with enough love and awe to sustain you for a lifetime. He pulled you to sit on his lap, his thigh felt strong and firm under your bottom. 
Acacius stroked your back, his hand was large and warm as it reached up to cradle your neck; his fingers calloused and firm as they massaged away any tension. Your head lulled back over his hand, a soft sigh escaping your mouth. He leaned forward, another hand coming over your waist pulling you closer into the heat of his chest. You gasped as Acacius kissed along your exposed neck, his beard deliciously scraping against your sensitive skin as his lips lingered over your beating pulse before reaching your upturned chin. He playfully bit your chin. 
You turned in his arms until both your legs framed his waist and you had straddled his lap. You pulled at the wool of his toga, removing it from his shoulders so it lay spread beneath him before your hand slid into his hair; the curls wrapping around your fingers as you claimed his lips with yours. The force of the kiss pushed him down until his head was leaning over the backrest of the chaise.
What you lacked in experience you made up for with need and desperation. There was a groan from his chest and his arms wrapped around your waist to haul you closer to him— something hard was prodding at your thigh. You reverently traced the shape of his lips, feather-soft kisses to the plump cushion of them, light licks over the swooping edges. But you craved more, more, more. You needed to feel his tongue against yours, you needed to be closer somehow. 
Your hand wrapped around his throat, fingers barely reaching the sides of the thick muscles. His heartbeat thundered on your fingers and then onto your palms as you slid your hand up to cup his wide, square jaw. You dug your fingers into his jaw to pry his mouth open. Acacius parted his lips to allow you to explore his mouth, you stroked and delved deeper in the chase for his tongue. He closed his lips around your tongue and suckled. His tongue met yours now, teasing and confident before he released you, placing a gentle kiss to the tip of your tongue and then on your closed lips.
“How do you want me, dulcissima?” He purred against your lips. 
You did not know what he asked of you, “Desperate.” You answered honestly. 
Acacius laughed. A loud, free sound that made your heart race. 
“For you? Always.” He promised as he guided your hips to sit directly on that hard, throbbing part of him. He did feel large.
“I will not do anything you do not wish me to, anaticula. Tell me, what do you want from me tonight?” His tone was breathy as if words were difficult for him. 
“Everything.” You didn’t want to waste another second. It didn’t matter how much it would hurt, but you needed a part of Acacius within you, physically and in every other way you could possibly consume him. 
“Are you sure?” He confirmed even as his hands had already unpinned your veil allowing it to fall behind you. But he waited, for permission, for something as small as a nod while he fingered the Hercules knot tied at your waist— a sign of your chastity.  
“Yes.” Your voice barely about a whisper. Acacius pulls the wool at your waist, both hands fisting your girdle around the knot, and breaks it with apparent ease instead of untying it. He then pushed your stola down over your shoulders until it pooled at your waist. Anticipation curled in your belly as he slowly pulled at the tiny bows that ran down your shoulders and along the sleeve of your tunic. Each tug of string was a sensual display of possessiveness and desire— his eyes were raptured on the swathe of skin as more of you was exposed to him. The tunic too fell at your waist, pooling over his lap and yours; only a plain binding lay between him and your breasts. And instead of unwrapping you, slowly as all his other actions had been. Acacius swiftly and impatiently tugged the fabric down. 
You both gasped at the movement, the cloth dragged across your sensitive nipples causing them to stiffen and bloom towards Acacius. The winds were blowing colder in the night than they were during the day. A shiver ran down your spine as you sat bare on his lap, he made no moves. Acacius just stared with intoxicating eyes; they roved over your body, studying your face, the slope of your neck, the expanse of your chest, the curve of your shoulder, the length of your arms and the swell of your belly until finally, they settled on the betrothal medallion that hung in the valley of your breasts. 
Even as you held still for him, allowing him to look his fill, the experience of being displayed thus was new and uncomfortable— no man had seen you this way. But it was not unwelcome. He looked breathless and awed, his hand faintly trembling as he brushed your nipples with the back of his fingers. The touch was so light, lighter than a feather, but it incinerated you, it sent a fiery current down to your womb which contracted; there was an insistent throb between your legs. 
But whatever sensation you felt seemed dwarfed by his reaction. Acacius shuddered. His eyes were wide and glassy. You placed a hand over his heart, its pace wild and erratic. Abruptly, he dug his fingers into your waist, lifting you off his lap and stood with you. Your clothes fell to your feet, and you fisted his tunic to guide it over his head. You regretted that he chose to wear the tunic that fell to his calf, the longer fabric took a few scant moments longer to be pulled over his head but the wait was torturous. His underwear swiftly followed yours on the floor. 
Acacius was better than anything you could have ever imagined. Better than those marble statues of gods and heroes, better than art and most certainly better than those erotic drawings you bought on the streets. He looked unworldly, bathed in both the cool of the moon and the warmth of the hearth. He had been stripped to his basest form now both hardened warrior and wild beast with the eyes of a man in love. Your husband. 
You laughed then, wide and happy, “You are divine, Acacius.” 
He answered with a chuckle, light flickering over the dimple on his cheek, “You do not see yourself, carissima.”
He held nothing of himself back as he allowed you to touch him; he sighed as you caressed his scars as if you relieved him of the pain, his breath hitched as your fingernails raked over the hair on his chest, he gasped as you scraped over his nipples. The planes and hills of his body leaned into your palm as you explored all the ways he was different from you.   
He did not stay still under your ministrations for too long and his lips fell on yours without reserve, his hands cupped your ass using it to pull you closer towards him. Your arms wrapped around his neck like a garland of love, a hand buried in his hair in a silent command for him to never stop kissing you, another hand exploring his broad shoulders, the stretch of his back and the bulk of his arms. You decided Acacius had to be naked until the sun rose tomorrow so you could study every freckle and spot on his body.
His kiss was raw, elemental— there were no gentle explorations and tentative touches. Acacius claimed and conquered, his lips on yours were hard and insistent while his hands on your body were rough and restless. He touched where no decent man would linger, using your delighted and shocked gasp to enter deeper into your mouth; you clung to his shoulders to keep up with his pace and only his hands held you upright. 
A calloused thumb grazed your nipple before he pinched and pulled at the sensitive flesh. You bit into his lip, giving it a sharp nip in response and Acacius groaned into your mouth. He kneaded the flesh of your hips, but his fingers slipped as they moved to the inside of your thighs. You were dewy and wet for him, the hairs and skin surrounding your sex were covered in slick moisture. 
He lazily explored your folds, his fingers parting and squeezing as they pleased until he bought his tips right against the bundle of nerves at the apex of your slit. You ground your hips against his curled fingers when he stilled his motions, desperate for the friction as your pleasure built, steadily climbing up your spine while he nipped under your jaw before receding to watch the sway of your hips to and fro, to and fro over his hand, smearing it with more of your sticky fluid. 
“Please
” You begged him. And Acacius moved his fingers then, in dizzyingly tight circles on your nub, his calloused finers offering just the right roughness needed for your muscles to seize. Warm currents coursed through your veins as you trembled and shuddered through your release in his arms— your skin overheated against the cold air. The hair on his chest dragged against your erect nipples causing more of your limbs to twitch; he held you close through your pleasure, his fingers unrelenting until the little bud was oversensitive to touch.
You rested your weight against him, your legs feeling too soft under you and took his flat nipple in your mouth wanting to give him the same pleasure he gave you. You gazed up through your lashes as he brought the hand that had been between your legs close to his mouth and groaned as he licked a wide strip from the side of his wrist to the centre of his palm. Your tongue lapped over his nipple to mimic the movement before encircling the little peak, you toyed it between your teeth and Acacius greedily shoved three fingers into his mouth to taste you— a soft breathy moan escaped him. 
He pulled you off his nipple, your lips making a soft pop sound as they left his flesh slightly red. His hand curled into your braids as he pulled you by the head, “Taste yourself on my tongue, anaticula. Sweeter than honey
” 
Your tongues met again in a dance of their own before you suckled his tongue as he had yours, drinking him in. You weren’t particularly sweet, but something about your taste mixed with the spit of his mouth sent a heady thrill through your body which made your toes curl. His hands roamed your body again, finding the spots and places that were sensitive, he lingered there with light touches and tender caresses— surprising you entirely when he sharply pinched your waist. You pushed deeper into the strength and heat of his body as your waist rolled with his unruly touch. Acacius swallowed the surprised moan from your mouth. 
He had always been so
 staid, controlled and solemn that you had expected Acacius to be such in his intimate moments as well— respectful and gentlemanly. There had been a wild, unpredictable demon that had come out to play in your office all those weeks ago but you had attributed his actions then to the high tensions and unresolved conflicts. But he was here now, lurking in the dark gaze of his desire, the tremble of his lips and the urgent grasp of your body. He could barely contain himself. 
And it made you realise just how much of him you had yet to learn. Like the rest of the world, you had seen the dignified General. You knew the reluctant conqueror and the grieving soldier. You had met the loyal friend, the protective family, the kind elder in him. But you were unacquainted with this man before you— unrefined and almost savage under the influence and vulnerability of his own wants and impulses.   
It filled you with a childish, stupid sort of rage to know that others had seen him as such. He had lovers before you, while you were trapped in a temple. He was so familiar with the female body, while you had to flounder for answers. It made you all the more resolved to erase all those previous embraces and lovers from his mind. You clutched him closer still, his cock insistently pressing into your belly, the tip leaking and smearing a wet patch across your skin. 
From this day forward, there will be no other for either of you. It had been an entirely new discovery to know you were a jealous, shrewish sort of wife who could not even bear that her husband thought about another lover even in passing. Should your husband ever tire of this marriage, he will have to squeeze the life out of you himself to be free of you. And this realisation was entirely unsurprising, that you would be content with such a death. You only had one life and one heart but if you had more, those too you would gift to Acacius.   
You guided him to sit on the chaise again, and despite his forceful and desperate advances, he went obligingly— never once pulling his mouth away from yours, pulling you to sit on his lap. But you evaded his embrace and knelt between his feet the only way you knew how; like a devout priestess kneeling at the altar of her deity— like a lover submitting at the pulpit of her beloved. 
Your eyes trained on his phallus, you had seen the male form before on statues, art and even in ceremonial rites to ward off evil; but you had never seen one quite as wide or large as his— your fingers barely touched as you wrapped your hand around him. He hissed as you gripped him and stroked to its base, pulling some of the skin and exposing the angry bulbous head that was leaking clear beads of liquid. You moved to taste him as he had tasted you, but his hands framed your face, halting it in its descent. 
“What are you doing, anaticula? That is not for wives to do.” Of course, it wasn’t. It hadn’t been the old matrons who taught you how to suck a man’s cock. No husband from a respectable household would expect this from his wife. But you wanted this. And before shame could eat away at your courage you confessed to your husband. 
“But
 I want to.” Ever since you had felt his tongue between your legs, there was very little you had thought of. You couldn’t bear the idea of never sharing this intimacy with him.
“You can explore all you like later. I can’t— I won’t last if you toy with me now
” His thumb caressed the apple of your cheek, his torso hulking and leaning over your knelt form.
“But we have all the time in the world, Acacius.” You struggled against the hold he had on your face, and stretched your tongue out of the confines of your mouth when he wouldn’t allow you closer to him. You barely tasted that small drop on the weeping slit of his cock on the tip of your tongue with a short cat-like lick. Acacius shivered.
He spread his legs wider and gave you a chaste kiss on your lips before lowering your mouth to his cock. The tip of it nestled against the curved roof of your mouth, the flared head pressing against the wrinkled ridges behind your teeth and it already felt so full. It was ticklish if not altogether strange sensation and you took him deeper until he was touching the more sensitive and softer part in the back of your mouth, your hand coming up to stroke the rest of his length that was left outside. 
You realised you could do this forever as your eyes closed shut. Your tongue was pressed to the vein that ran along the underside of his cock which thrummed with his heartbeat. It was like you were holding his beating pulse, his very heart, in your mouth. You felt his thigh quiver under your hand, and you chanced a curious glance up at your husband to behold the sight of him trembling, his teeth clenched and jaw twitching with the effort to remain perfectly still. And yes, you realised, you could do this forever— just hold him in your mouth until he lost his composure and grew desperate enough to fuck into your mouth. 
Acacius frowned at you, he looked dark and forbidding, “I know that look in your eyes, put away whatever idea you just came up with, wife.” He spoke through gritted teeth and his chest racked with the effort to breathe. 
You started moving your head, slowly at first as Acacius guided your hand to stroke over his length as he liked— tightening your grip and twisting your wrist. You hollowed your cheeks to envelop his cock tighter and suck him deeper inside your mouth, relaxing your throat to adjust to the fullness in your mouth. Perhaps, your husband was to be cursed with the most selfish sort of wife because you stopped looking for his reactions, his cock was in your mouth for your pleasure alone and whatever he might glean from it was secondary in your mind. 
He smelled of musk, sweat, the floral powder used to scent his clothes and something so addictingly Acacius. You rubbed your thighs together, the arousal had pooled from between your thighs to coat your ankles and feet under your folded legs. You hated to feel him receding from your mouth, sucking him as your head moved up, swirling your tongue around him to taste him before coaxing him deeper into your mouth again. Experimentally, you brought a hand to the sac hanging heavily under his cock, testing its weight and the hairy texture of the skin, gingerly massaging it until it drew tight in your palm. 
His cock jumped in your mouth as his hands entangled in your braids to pull you off him. But you suckled him with a petulant whine, refusing to be wrested off him. A warm, salty and slightly bitter taste filled your mouth while he wrenched your head off him, the rest of his spend falling in spurts across your face and neck. What a waste

Acacius glowered down at you, mouth agape and panting, “You are going to be the death of me
 One of these days you will kill me.” His eyes were focused on your tongue as you licked the side of your lips to taste more of him. And he watched as some of his cum glittered on your skin as it trickled down until it was halted in its path by the gold chain hanging from your neck. He lapped at your skin, collecting his cum from the chain and depositing it into your mouth with what could barely be considered a kiss, his tongue surged into your mouth until you had cleaned his thick release off it.
You felt a smug satisfaction as you noticed that he was still shaking, a bit unsteady on his feet as he stood and lifted you onto the chaise. You thought you could consummate your marriage now, but to your confusion he knelt before you— his cock looking much flatter, softer. You felt your lower lip wobble as Acacius guided you to lean back. Was it supposed to do that?
“What did you think was going to happen?” He chastised you. 
“I had no reason to believe he would just go soft like that
 can’t you make him go up again?” You whispered, a bit uncertain of the male anatomy. Would you not be able to consummate your marriage tonight?
Acacius leaned over to kiss your pouting lips, “It comes back faster when you’re younger.” 
You adoringly caress his bearded cheek as he smiles down at you, an uncertain vulnerability curved about that smile. You struggled to think of what to say to him, he could be old and decrepit and you would still be glad to have him as your husband. You had still wanted him a few short hours ago when you had been expecting pain and shame on your marriage bed, and you wanted him more now that he had shown you pleasure and wonder instead. You loved him not because of his prowess in bed but because of the simple fact that he was Acacius— steadfast, loyal, protective, kind, and loving, oh so loving.
But complex sentences evaded your mind as his lips closed around your nipple, he lingered there with his teeth and tongue before moving just a bit below to bite under your areola. He insistently sucked the flesh of your bosom into his mouth until it came away with a small bruise. His lips traversed down your body in a sensual dance of kisses, nips and almost painful bites. He spread your legs and groaned at the sight of your arousal smearing large patches of your limbs. 
“So wet for me, anaticula.” His voice was breathless.
“You’re perfect.” You settled for simpler words that were just as true. He was perfect. Acacius huffed a warm burst of laughter. 
“I’m glad you think so, wife.” He chimed even as his gaze seemingly searched for the sincerity in your eyes.
“I love you.” You offered him another nugget of truth. 
You watched as the colour rose from his chest to his neck, Acacius shyly smiled before obscenely licking at your arousal and suckling another bruise on the inside of your thigh. He was marking you.   
You squirmed with anticipation, feeling his hot breath on your cunt as he spoke, “Don’t worry, he’ll be back just as we have prepared you some more.” 
“Here, hold these for me.” He spread your thighs and pushed them towards you, your hands came under your knees to hold yourself open for him as he had commanded. 
His mouth on your cunt was a reunion like no other. Acacius remembered every sensitive spot and fold of your sex. But the swooping in your womb had more to do with the sight of him rather than the pleasurable feeling of his tongue on your slit— his mouth attached to your cunt, eyes glazed over with a half-awake and half-asleep look in his eyes, lashes gracefully fluttering as he tasted you, a patch of his cheekbone shimmering under the lamp light where the slick from your thighs had smeared across his face.                
Gone was the urgency with which he had devoured you previously in your office, he was instead languid and slow. But there was a fervour in his grip and his fingers painfully dug into the flesh of your hips. He toyed with one of the lips covering your opening, sucking it into his mouth and nipping it with his teeth before doing the same with the over. His tongue roved over your sex sometimes just the tip, lightly and ticklishly grazing over a sensitive spot, and other times he was insistent, tongue flat against your folds as he roughly lapped up your essence. 
You grew desperate as he purposely avoided that crest right at the apex of your sex that would ensure you would see stars behind your eyes again. And you grind your hips against his face, hoping to catch the needy spot against his nose, or his lips or even his chin— the lightest of touch there could set you off, you were so close, the tension curled so tightly inside you. There was a resounding smack in the air, it didn’t occur to you that Acacius would hit you until there was a tingling on the side of your ass, the impact making you gush into his mouth.
“Of course, you would enjoy something like this,” He murmured. And he laughed. He had the audacity to laugh as his lips closed around the exposed little bud, the vibrations of his amusement travelling straight into your nerves. You came undone with a shout, your eyes unseeing while your veins felt alit with delicious flames coursing through them followed by warm currents that doused your body in a dreamy languor. You lost your grip under your knees, letting your legs fall apart in the most inelegant fashion but still spread so wide for your husband. Acacius moved away with a teasingly tutting at you, and you whimpered at the loss.
“Hold them for me again,” He said. And you obediently took your position, hands under your knees, lifting your trembling legs so you were entirely exposed for him. 
Acacius took your clitoris in his mouth again, his tongue encircling the oversensitive bud. You felt his thumb gather some of your slick before going down to the ring of muscles far below your cunt. You gasped his name in surprise as his digit followed the same dizzying circles around the ridged fig-like skin surrounding that opening. 
“Is this alright? Do you trust me?” You gave a hasty wordless nod for both questions. 
Acacius pressed two fingers into your cunt and suddenly it was all a bit too much. His tongue flicked the bundle of nerves, the intrusion of his fingers felt foreign and the thumb circling your other hole was sending waves of pleasure to muscles you hadn’t realised could be used for such a purpose. He watched you restlessly whimper and whine with half-lidded eyes as you squirmed at his touch. He released the nub of flesh from his mouth, making soothing sounds as he comforted you. 
“Relax for me, let it happen, my love, do not fight it.” He said as he curled his fingers inside you catching some dormant set of nerves which threw you into another release. You came with a gasp, still shaking and quivering as he pressed soft kisses to the inside of your thigh. You hadn’t yet descended from the heights of your pleasure, your muscles feeling fuzzy and boneless when he flipped you over. Your head rested sideways over the backrest of the chaise as Acacius guided your own hands to your ass. 
“Spread yourself for me, wife.” His tone clipped and terse. You had thought yourself past surprise and shame but were still so unprepared for the feel of his tongue against your anus. His tongue burned hot against the ring of muscle as he held it in place while his fingers found their way inside your cunt again, three this time instead of the two before. And this time he lets you grind yourself on his face. You are mindless and hazy with pleasure, there is no real pace or rhythm to your hips.
His hand curved around your waist so he could curl his fingers into your clit, providing delicious friction as you swayed your hips. His fingers lazily dragged in and out of you, his beard scraped against your sensitive skin, and his tongue pressing hot and wet against the opening of your ass, burrowing inside despite your haphazard movements. Acacius gives you a deep hum of approval the more desperate and determined you grow in pursuit of another release. 
It crept up on you, steadily climbed your spine, long and drawn out rendering you utterly silent as your body gripped and convulsed barely being able to hold itself up. For several moments you were lost to the world, Acacius circled and patted the erect bud of nerves until you stopped twitching while another had soothingly stroked and petted over your shivering skin. He turned to lay you on the chaise, pressing an affectionate kiss to your parted lips and covered you with his own body, whispering soft praise and encouraging words as his legs entangled with yours— you gasped at the feel of his weight, another throb coursing down your sated sex, you clenched around the tip of his cock as he bullied his way inside.
As he had promised, it did not hurt. But you felt full, and far too relaxed and pliant to be overwhelmed even with the slight burn of the stretch. Dazed, you noticed the wet patch on the backrest where his hand gripped— you had drooled. It was worse, your release had coated his cloak underneath you, it glistened against his face and it dripped down his chin, his neck, his chest. 
“Dulcissima, you have to let me in, please— you’re strangling me. Breathe—” Acacius was tense, speaking through gritted teeth, his words breaking from his effort to breathe. And your body complied with his request, you could never deny him. And you felt complete once he had nestled inside you, filling not only your cunt but your heart and your soul. Your gaze was wondrous and awed as you held him inside you, you clenched around him trying to pull him impossibly closer still. 
He gasped before kissing you again, trying to hold most of his weight off you. You stay that way, connected in more ways than just the physical, locked together in both love and ecstasy— your hands exploring his warm skin and the strong contours of his body. A surprising laugh bubbled up your throat when you realised Acacius had broken into goosebumps, his hair raised alert and small bumps ran along his arms. 
His forehead pressed against yours and you nudged his nose with yours gazing into the eyes of your beloved seeing the love and adoration reflected there. He softly caressed your cheek and your temple, “I haven’t done this in years,” he confesses. Years?
“Good.” 
He chuckles at your response, “Good? It means I won’t last long
”
“You don’t have to. It is done, is it not? The consummation.” 
He pecks your nose, “We aren’t done until you come all over my cock, anaticula.” 
And then he moves, in sufficiently long and deep strokes that have your eyes rolling back, grinding his hips so the hair above his cock rubs against the erect nub above your opening. Your nails dig into his back, the coil of pleasure winding tighter at your core. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the skin of your neck. 
“It doesn’t hurt.” You told him as your hips rolled to meet his thrusts.
“I’ve done you a disservice—” Why was he talking? Did he expect you to hold a conversation? All you could manage was a broken keen when he rubbed the most perfect spot on the inside. 
“You’ve been trapped in a temple for thirty years, you deserved to see the world, take a few lovers, but I have trapped you instead.” 
“No—” He couldn’t possibly be saying these things while his arm wrapped under you to massage your anus. 
“You can roam the world, freely conduct your business— take over Rome if you want to— I’ll follow you
 anywhere. I’ll go.” He wiped the tears that slipped out of your eyes before continuing, “But this is what you will do at the end of every day, anaticula.”
“You will go about your dreams and ambitions and then you’ll come home every night into my arms, my bed, with my cock buried deep in your cunt. Do you understand?” He brutally snapped his hips into you while you responded with some sound between a sob and a laugh. 
“Say it, say it to me. Tell me you’re mine.” He commanded, his eyes overcome with a zealous light. His fingers dipped into the tight ring of your ass. You could feel his cock all the way in your throat.
“We’ll have to train this hole of yours open if you do not want children, carissima. This is where I will fuck you next. But you’ll take me, like a perfectly biddable wife— into your heart, into your body. It is my home, and you will not cast me out—”
“I want them— I want children, everything you give me— please please please— Acacius.” You begged. 
“I’m yours. Your wife, your lover, your whore— please, Acacius—” You weren’t sure what you were asking of him. But your husband, ever the provider, brushed his fingers against your clit and you shattered under him with a distorted scream. You convulsed and shook underneath him with no effect as his weight pressed down on you. And your husband followed soon after, shivering and groaning as he painted the inside of your cunt with his warm seed; your walls fluttered around him to milk every last drop of it. 
“Daughters
 wife. Give me daughters, ones who take after their mother in both looks and heart.” He prayed to you. Acacius stayed that way for several long moments, reverently kissing your warm and sweaty skin while you felt him softening inside you. You clenched around him in distress, hating the inevitable loss as he slipped out of you.
You had watched with great interest as he had stumbled away from you, admiring the sight of his ass, wishing you can sink your teeth into it. And with even more interest, you stared at his cock as he returned with a wet cloth to clean you both along with a tray of food he had prepared. The both of you had ravenously polished off the feast of olives, cheese, fruits, stuffed dates, spiced cookies, bread and sausages. Your husband had plied you with more wine before dipping his strawberries in your cunt to eat them; they tasted sweeter that way he had claimed and you hadn’t believed him until you had cleaned up honey from his cock which had tasted impossibly sweeter to you.
You lay on him, sleep still evading you because you knew you had to address his words when he had been inside you. Your back leaned against his chest, and Acacius had parted his legs to make room for your bottom between them. Another reason sleep was not possible, this chaise was too small for both of you— you told your husband as much. 
“You should have seen the one they brought before, it was much smaller
 So I built this one.” He chuckled.
“You built this bed yourself?” You whispered, appreciating the work and polish under new light. You thought he only worked on smaller projects.
He hummed in response, “And the bed in our chambers. Don’t worry, I made that one palatial.”
“So why aren’t we there?” You laughingly demanded. 
“Because I wanted the heavens to witness our consummation, dulcissima.” And your heart fluttered again. 
“I still quite like this one, despite how small it is
 It’s our marriage bed and I’ll be fucking you on it as often as I can.” Despite, how sated and spent you felt, heat still curled in your belly at his promise. 
“You know, Acacius”—you turned in his arms to face him, chin resting against the swell of his stomach, you gazed up at him with imploring eyes—“You have done me no disservice. I wanted to marry you.”
You couldn’t hold in the words any longer, “You can never imagine yourself as some chain around my feet
 you make me brave. You bolster me, make me feel safe— like I will always have someone on my side.” 
He sweetly caressed your spine, “I’ll never give you cause to be disappointed in our marriage, anaticula.” 
“You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried, Acacius.” You struggled against the insecurities in his mind, before realising that only time will reassure him. 
“I love you,” Acacius said, not as a confession or a desperate sigh, but in the same steady way he would voice a fact. 
“I love you, too,” You whispered against his chest. 
“Are you sore?” He gently asked. 
You were, not just between your legs but also in your heart— you shook your head in denial. Just a little white lie because you knew that having him close, having him inside you could cure all ails. 
Acacius watched the sun rise, as he would on most days of his marriage— casting his wife in an ethereal glow, the rays shining down on all the marks he had left on her body while she languorously rode his cock to their shared bliss. 
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