#Pillar Brothers AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitchlessdino · 6 months

Note

hello! 🤍 can i request a bad boy type wonwoo having a soft spot for also a cold type reader?

like they always acting so cold towards other people and even both of them acting like they hate each other.

and people are like "oh there is no way they can date", but wonwoo is only kind to reader and viceversa even without them noticing

Oh, and they dont even realized their feelings until reader feels jealous when they saw wonwoo with someone else and thats when they realized about it, but are afraid to said something since reader doesnt know how wonwoo will react

Kinda angst maybe, but fluff at the end

take your time btw! 🤍 it is also totally okay if is not possible, hope you are having an excellent day 🌸

Pairing: wonwoox gn!reader Genre: slight angst, fluff, slice of life Word count: 6.3k tags: mentions alcohol, childhood au, biker!wonu, frienemy!wonwoo, possible love triangle, reader called a bitch, presence of violence and imminent danger, analogy using car wrecks, mc and wonwoo stilling living with their parents as adults because that's normal ok, kinda messy, intimates kisses Summary: Hard to maintain a good acquaintanceship if it started off on the wrong foot, but Wonwoo tries to do just that, no matter how much you resent him from childhood. Now reunited as adults, you're questioning whether your negative impression of him has stuck since being away or have you grown up just enough to realize how much between the two you have changed? author note: this was collecting dust but finally she is here. just in time for wonwoo to be in my bias list 🙂

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch

You will never willingly be associated with Jeon Wonwoo.

His mom had just happened to be someone your mom knew. Someone that she hadn’t talked to or seen in a long time. Long enough to have built their own families and have their kids without realizing it. It was as if they fell back into place. A long-time childhood friendship that quickly rekindled in a grocery store one day. From that day on, your families were inseparable. As long as they were still friends, you’d see each other every day.

“Why would I babysit some weirdo kid? I have better things to do.”

The problem was he wanted nothing to do with you.

When you met him the first time, you were a child barely getting around to a bike without training wheels, and Wonwoo was meeting the first stages of fungal acne. He was a bit older than you were then and his mom had given him the duty to look after you, the neighbor’s kid. The neighbor’s weirdo kid.

His mom bragged to yours about how good of an older brother he was to his younger brother, Seonwoo, but that seemed that seems to be his limit. Having freshly turned a teen, it all made sense. Wonwoo didn’t know you, and all of a sudden in his growing years he’s stuck taking care of a kid he knows by association. Understandably, he’d have that teen angst.

You didn't mean to overhear. You just happened to eavesdrop behind a pillar that day in their obnoxiously nice house when you came across him and his mother talking privately. Admittedly, you hadn’t made the best impression, but you were any kid in their single digits: annoying, talkative, maybe skeptical. But you were a kid. A kid that got their feelings easily hurt.

Despite saying such hurtful words, Wonwoo listened. He treated you with care–consideration almost–following his mother's orders, but you didn't make it easy for him. Every group breakfast, every dinner, every ride to school. You became relentless. You knew how he really felt about your situation after all. Your mind was made up at that point.

If he wanted nothing to do with you, you wanted nothing to do with him.

“Keep walking.”

Your eyes barely glaze over at the unfamiliar figure before waving off your hand as if dismissing a nuisance, which in this case was accurate. The unsolicited stranger scoffs, getting up from his unwelcome seat, hacking and spitting on the spot on the floor next to your chair. “I don’t fuck with bitches anyway.”

You roll your eyes as you shoo him away with the flick of your wrist again, then feel another unwanted presence join you in your once peaceful solitude. You tightly shut your eyes in frustration before taking a deep exhale, finding silence impossible under your circumstances. “I don’t want to hear it, Jeon.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you hear Wonwoo arrogantly chuckle, shrugging off the thick leather off his shoulders and setting them on his lap as he takes a seat.

With your back turned to him, you imagine the pristinely lit smile on his face he gives when he’s amused, a rarity in these parts with the exception of you, someone he’s known long enough to recount every blemish that once appeared on your face. He watches you finish the rest of your drink, the bob of your throat shifting before you pull the glass away from your lips. Your resting bitch face is still intact after all these years.

“Good, keep it that way.”

Wonwoo could have chosen to keep the peace as he said he would, but it was just too easy with you. Even after you’ve left for college and come back, he acts as if nothing has changed. In his eyes, you were still that same angsty kid who always has something snarky to say when he’s around. And man, did he always have just as smart a rebuttal. “It’s just, that was the fifth guy you’ve scared off—course, the guy was a moron—but you like dying alone, Frosty?”

Frosty. The Snowman. Much unlike the jolly creature, however, you were given that name being somewhat of a cold character, particularly to Wonwoo and anything he witnesses face the wrath of your harsh but honest judgment.

You begin getting up from your seat, scowling at the abhorred nickname, the prediction of this dinner a mistake an accurate calculation. “Should’ve known you’d run your mouth. Tell mom I’m heading to the store across the street.”

Your mother was so proud to have you back home for a period before you’d find a new place again, and she insisted on holding a small intimate gathering at bar type restaurant. That meant sharing the space with other patrons, the Jeons, and unfortunately Wonwoo, who only grew more irritating than you last remember.

“I’ll tell her, but I’m coming with.”

The caretaker role he was bestowed upon so long ago seems to resonate with him still, insisting on trailing behind you with nonchalance. To which you answer with a brash:

“Fuck off.”

Your eyes go to the back of your skull the nth time tonight before you’re off on your stroll, noticing the annoying scrap of Wonwoo’s heel following behind you after he waves your mom and the rest of the party farewell. You ignore him, darting towards the antique shop that warms your stomach with nostalgia, hearing the wind chimes clang when you enter with a cool musk breeze to follow.

“That all you have to say to me? Even if you hate me, there has to be some…sentiment.”

You finger through the old hardcovers, eyes scanning over the aged wood of the shelves until they move on to the glossy wood of the cuckoo clocks on the walls. “Not even a little bit, Jeon.”

There’s the breathiness of his scoff that lingers in the musk air. He crosses your arms, the leather rubs loudly against itself. “Well, that’s sad to hear,” he responds, not sounding sad at all.

“Don’t you have an actual sibling to bother? Why are you being a nuisance to me?”

He simply shrugs. “Seonwoo isn’t back from his work-study just yet. Plus he’d be happy to know I kept you company.”

Unlike Wonwoo, Seonwoo was actually tolerable, pleasant even. If you were envious of Wonwoo for anything, it was having a nice little brother like Seonwoo. You weren’t exactly close but he was a nice kid, a lot nicer than Wonwoo anyway, and not at all that annoying kind of nice that chirps every two seconds.

You sigh. “Now that’s actually sad to hear.”

“I knew you’d say that. You always liked him better than me.”

Only because you never liked me in the first place.

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh my god, Wonwoo?”

A shrill voice beckons from the store entrance, an older version of a girl from your adolescence runs towards you both. “I thought I heard your gorgeous voice. Gorgeous face as well as always, how are you?”

Gina also grew up in the same neighborhood you both did and was typically nice, but around Wonwoo, she seemed to lose all train of thought since all her eyes could train on was him. She bats her eyelashes the same flirtatious way several years ago, and instinctively her body is drawn to him like mosquitos to blood, drinking in masculine appearance for all its worth.

If you were anything like her, you’d get it. Wonwoo is an attractive man by society's standards, but the truth of the matter is you can’t stand him. And you know deep down he can’t stand you. His fake politeness isn’t fooling anybody. Okay, that is a lie. His fake politeness doesn’t fool you, but his limitless charm made everyone else weak in the knees.

“Good, good.” He nods cordially, a smile drained from his face only leaving a straight stare, eyes only landing on Gina momentarily before they return to you.

Gina finds his gaze’s target before the light is slightly dimmed from her initially bright eyes. “And you too. Oh gosh, you must’ve got back too. Can you believe we’ve both graduated from college?”

You wonder if she does, considering you did graduate from the same university.

“Yeah, it’s…crazy.” You answer, sounding unintentionally sarcastic.

Gina awkwardly chuckles, eyes back on Wonwoo as if they never left. “All we need is Seonwoo and it’s like the musketeers again, huh?”

Hardly the musketeers when she only ever stalked Wonwoo the entire time. You’re surprised you didn’t find she didn’t follow him all the way to the bathroom too.

Wonwoo’s cold expression is a steel cage that lacks interest. He blindly nods, mumbling “sure,” and not giving any other sign of continuing the conversation.

“Well, you guys should totally make it to my housewarming party. I’m inviting all the other guys from the neighborhood. Invite Seonwoo too! It’ll be a nice way to catch up.”

“We’ll think about it,” Wonwoo answers, giving her another curt nod.

“I’ll be really, really grateful if you did.”

There are stars in her eyes, like a treat is dangling in front of it, that treat being a six-foot body of steel and perfect Wonwoo.

“Right,” he grunts.

She finally waves you both goodbye before making it past the glass doors with a quirk in her step.

You continue to peruse the rest of the store, picking up that one wooden statue that’s never been sold, or if it has, it keeps getting returned. It makes you wonder if it’s cursed. “Just reject her already and let her move on. Even I feel sorry for her.”

“I’m not ready for the aftermath of all that.”

You really have to unlearn that eye roll of yours. You could tell it’s giving you a headache. “Of course you aren’t.”

“You’re not going, are you? The thing she mentioned?”

“This the first time you met me? Of course, I’m not going. You are?”

He shrugs. “A party never hurt anybody.”

“Without an address?”

He pulls out his phone with a notification as clear as day, Gina’s Instagram handle ushering him with details of where the party whereabouts. “Who said I didn’t have an address?”

“She really needs to find a hobby.”

Wonwoo chuckles, tucking the phone back in his front pocket. “Ready to head back now? Unless you want to look through the store a second time.”

You groan. “Stop policing me. I’m going home.”

“I’ll take you.”

You raise your brow. “On your fucking death trap? No thanks.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms, the leather of his jacket speaking out of turn again. “You say that as if people aren’t begging to the back of my Harley.”

“Only people with a death wish.”

That goes on for some time until you make yourself walk the mile before your feet give out. Wonwoo obviously is the first with a smile on his face before he forces you to get the rest of the couple miles on the back of his bike, which was admittedly prettier in person than the photos your mom showed you.

There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you get on—no doubt regret—questioning the proximity. “Hold on,” he says, to which you answer, “fat fucking chance.”

Your spiteful words are wasted as you find yourself tugging on him as you speed off on the vehicle from hell on the freeway.

“You’re an asshole!” You scream from your lungs.

“And I told you to hold on!” He screams back, a wide smile on his face you have no way of seeing.

You desperately wrap your arms around his torso, your life flashing before your eyes like a movie. All you hear is the wind in your ears while the traffic lights are hardly visible through your tightly shut eyes. You feel your soul leave your body, thinking nothing but the idea of an afterlife. If there was one good thing about the predicament you’re in, it’d be that he can’t see the terror in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much you want to scream bloody murder.

Before you know it, you arrive home safe and sound, the gas stopping at the curb of your house. He abruptly uses the bike break and you crash against broad shoulders, and you exude bumbling idiocy as you cling to him like a baby with separation anxiety. Oxygen finally enters your brain and you recognize your compromised position, forcing your grip off of him. You unbuckle and shove his helmet into his lap as you get off, a permanent scowl on your face.

“Fuck you.”

“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Frosty.”

You don’t forget that encounter back then and you never get a chance to with your mom finding any excuse to see the Jeons day after day since your arrival. If that perfect apartment with affordable rent were to drop at your feet at a perfect time just when you so desperately needed it, it’d be now.

“Bring that in over next door. The Jeons will be thrilled to see their fridge stocked. And remember I’ll be gone until the morning.”

“We just gave them homemade wine yesterday. Mom, just because they live next door doesn’t mean we always have to plan to meet. We see them anyway.” You grab the cumbersome container of whatever it was anyway and hold it to your side like like a football, a strained expression on your face.

“You need to understand the value of lasting relationships. That’s why you’re still single, honey.”

You roll your eyes, groaning as you trod off, not wanting to start up another one of lectures why you're in your mid-twenties room with hardly any men in your books let alone in your court. Better off facing Jeon Wonwoo again than that, you guess.

You knock on their familiar white door, awaiting an answer from the other side. Soon enough you hear a masculine voice, but a voice that isn’t quite Wonwoo’s. The boy's fresh face on the receiving end piques your interest, an expression telling of a life of light and ease. Seonwoo stares back at you with a smile before politely waving. “It’s good seeing you! Been a minute.”

You find yourself returning a gesture, relaxing your arms. “It has. Mom wanted to send things over. Again.”

“Of course. Come in.”

You leave the box of goods in their fridge, feeling the presence of the younger Jeon follow behind you like a benevolent puppy. “Did you get in yesterday?”

“This morning. Early flight.”

You grin. “Singapore doing you good, I see.”

“Nothing like home though.”

You softly chuckle, “Yeah, there isn’t.”

Your conversation is cut short with another family coming down the stairs, one that looks ready to leave. They meet your eyes in amusement and his steps begin to falter in turn. “I saw you yesterday.”

“Don’t you dare make a joke about me missing you. It wasn’t funny any of the first five times.”

He’s smug as expected, entertained by the fact you’ve kept count. “I won’t, but it won’t make it any less true.”

You scoff. “Live in reality for once in your life, Wonwoo.”

“I will when you do.” He comes to the kitchen—briefly passing by you to do so and grazing your forearm—to fill a glass of water and downs it, his signature jacket thrown over his shoulders. He let out a refreshed sigh in your direction and put it away as soon as he finished. “I’m leaving now. When you change your mind about missing me, I’ll be at Gina’s party. Might actually find some fun there while you’re at it.”

The door closes behind him dramatically and your attention is right back on Seonwoo, the successful bystander. “Your brother is annoying.”

The young man smiles, finding the nostalgia in that small event. “Reminds me of the good old times.”

“Well, I should get going.”

“You’re going to the party too?”

You shake your head. “Not the slightest bit interested. Just trying to keep myself busy while I’m still in town.”

“Plan on leaving already? You just got here.”

“I can’t live on my parents forever. Need to make a living of my own you know.”

He softly laughs, a warm light enveloping his presence. He always seems to emit pure joy. Like there was nothing that could ruin this kid's day. “Nice to see you haven’t changed. Still self-reliant.”

You can’t help but smile back, “… Wouldn't be me if I wasn’t. I'll see you later, kid.”

You walk back home and go on with the rest of your afternoon by carrying on the duties of a college graduate with no job: endless job hunting. You let yourself go on that way for an hour, already bored by rereading your applicant details and sending in copies and copies of cover letters and documents. Your eyes have started to see stars shooting from either corner, warning signs of mental fatigue.

Shaking the numbing feeling, you shut off your laptop and notice the time on the clock. In the back of your mind, you’re remembering that party Wonwoo ended up going to. These parties weren’t by any means rare, but it had been some time since you let yourself give into environments as such. You said you wouldn't go but in dire situations of weary silences, perhaps it would hurt to take a second in a new subsubspace. Something to take off the edge of the weight of your undetermined future.

Against your initial better judgment, you force yourself out of that house to enter that very party you said you wouldn't go to. So like Gina to make an event over a normal thing like this. You don’t put much thought into what you wear and leave the house and when you arrive late as you were, you are unsurprised by the huge turnout. Five seconds in, you’re already regretting the 10 bucks you paid via UBER to get there.

The house was so Gina. As expected of one of the daughters of the wealthiest families in town. As you enter, all you hear is music, loud and rambunctious voices and laughter, and shouts of barely adults chugging whatever concoction in those house party solo cups. It all quickly reminds you of college and high school, times in your life you were relieved to know were over.

Why did you decide to come again if you knew this was going to happen?

You try ignoring the voices that seem to recognize you, evading and walking through the place for a potential drink to buzz you out of self-consciousness. If you were going to be in a place like this, a drink was warranted by all means.

“Wonwoo, come on!”

Gina’s voice, easily distinguishable, resonates from the other end of the room and sees how her presence bounces like a kite in the wind. You look in the direction of her gaze to find the person she seeks, ultimately having Wonwoo being dragged by the wrist, his hair sweeping the swift breeze of her force. You were a bit relieved to see him, someone who is more similar to you in ways you’d never willingly admit.

You feel the urge to approach, curious how he’ll handle this one, but intentions all change of a brisk move, changing setting immediately. One second Gina looks up at him with doe eyes that speak longing and ache, another second her arms are looped around his neck and she pulls his lips against hers, massaging against them naturally as if rehearsed. Your feet stop, watching the unsightly scene like it’s a car crash as if in slow motion, taking you only a second to realize he hasn't yet let go.

Slowly then quickly, your chest pulls up like a marionette doll before it drops in a lump, repeating until the sound of your heart is rapidly pounding into your skull. You don’t understand it, but you don’t want to either. Swiftly, you duck back and turn your head in the other direction, having seen enough.

Then panic ensues.

People are harder to brush through than you realize. Colliding each one was like speed bumps in your way of a smooth departure. You were bound to have one person take a drunken offense to your rash movement and there it was: a subtle push that led to a spilled drink that stains the shirt of a man big enough to frighten children if he approached.

“Watch the fuckkk ya goin’!”

You don’t bother with the importance of apologizing or even acknowledging him. You realize it too late when he pulls at your collar back towards him, strangling you at the throat.

“S…stupid bitch can’t even see…fucking ruin my—hic—deink”

Your hands come around his grip, attempting to pry him off. “L-let me go. The fuck?”

“The fuck you say to me piece of shi—ah!”

He finally releases you when Wonwoo appears from behind him, tossing him out like an old ragdoll with no weight. The drunkard comes crashing down to the hardwood floor and before he realizes the cause of it, said cause whisks you away with his gril looping around your wrist.

“You’re going home right the fuck now,” Wonwoo grumbles, dragging you out of other guests' way and right out of the door, once again leading you to his motorcycle. “Bike now.”

“Wonwoo, what the fuck—“

“You aren’t an idiot. You knew what was gonna happen if I hadn’t stepped in. Now get on before fee fi fo fum finds out we left.”

“I’m not getting on that death trap again!”

His glare pierces right through you. “I know you'd rather be at home than here. Especially with the probability of becoming a statistic. Get on.”

He is right for the most part and even you’re seeing through your nonsensical defiance. Reluctantly, you follow his lead, knowing he’s left you with no other choice. You endure another near death experience, this time clutching on to him less resistantly unlike last time all the way back home. It is when you’re at the foot of your door you only realize the keys that were supposed to be in your pocket but left on the kitchen counter instead.

“Shit.”

Wonwoo quickly puts the pieces together. “No key?”

You shake your head, embarrassed slightly over your feeble appearance. “No, and mom won’t be back until the morning so I’m screwed.”

“Alright. You’re sleeping over.”

You scoff looking back at him, wondering whether he’s in the right state of mind to make that call. “You’re kidding.”

“Not unless you’re okay slumbering at the footstep of your door.”

Another choice made of your hands. You discouragingly follow after him as he unlocks the door across the street. Seonwoo was evidently still home with his loafers by the foot of the door but dead asleep upstairs in bed.

“You take my bed. I’ll take the couch,” he offers nodding in the direction of the living room.

“No thanks, I’ll take the couch.”

He groans, giving that irritated look. “Don’t be difficult and just sleep in the damn bed.”

You huff, strutting over towards the couch. “Sleep in your own damn bed, Jeon. Stop treating me like you’re my babysitter.”

He follows after you, crossing his arms like an annoyed mother, “You’re really gonna be like this?”

“I’m not being like anything.”

“You know what?” He grabs the throw pillow off the couch, “Fine. We’ll share the couch.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes narrow back at him.

The smug smile on his face says it all, knowing there was no rebuttal to follow. “Neither of us will take the bed, we’ll both will take the couch.”

Before you can argue, he ascends the stairs for more bedding and comes back to toss you a blanket and pillow. He keeps one of each for himself, sprawling on the other end of the massive couch, gesturing you to do the exact same. Cautiously, you mirrored his image, crawling under your borrowed blanket. Despite your feet not touching, you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the close proximity, forcing you to crunch up your legs and bring your knees close to your chest.

Wonwoo’s eyes drop in place, nuzzling into his thick blanket. “Good night.”

“Whatever.”

He softly scoffs with a smile, basking in the silence. Meanwhile, there was you, wondering why you listened to his instructions so willingly. You sigh, your eyes glued to the ceiling counting every bump and curve of its textured surface.

“This is stupid it’s literally 10 pm”

“Sounds like bedtime.”

You peek back at him, his eyes still closed. “You did not go to a party to plan on sleeping at 10 pm.”

“You don’t know what my plans are. Sleep now.”

“I could’ve handled it, you know,” you argue.

“I bet you could’ve,” he responds dryly. “Wasn’t gonna take that risk though.”

“I’m serious…you didn’t have to, especially since…”

“What?”

“You know,” you take a moment to form the words, “whatever that was with Gina.”

You hear him scoff, shifting on his side of the couch. “Nothing was happening with Gina.”

You let out a parched laugh, in disbelief of the words leaving his lips. “Wow, that lie comes so easy, does it?”

“Believe what you want. It’s not what you think anyway.”

“You’re so…obnoxious,” you sputter.

“Thank you.”

“So when did that happen? You and Gina?”

He huffs hot air out of his nose.“There’s no me and Gina. I don’t know what you saw, but…it’s nothing.”

“You were kissing.”

“You could call it that.”

“For a while,” You add.

“Just enough for her to find closure.”

“And did she?”

“Saved your ass before I could find out.”

You have no response to that and you let the silence take over for a few minutes. After those few minutes, Wonwoo was the one to break the peace.

“You asleep yet.”

“No, it’s not even 11,” you answer exasperatedly.

“Well, I'm tired.”

“Go to sleep then.”

“You should sleep before I do.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, “I'm supposed to take care of you. It’s what your mom would want.”

“Why? I'm a grown adult.”

“I don’t think an explanation is needed.”

“Ever heard of personal space?”

“Make some smart decisions and I’ll consider it.”

“You’re such a dick,” you grunt, turning away from view.

“I’m only trying to protect you.”

This shit again. You pushed yourself up from the couch to sit up, fuming in his direction. “Because your mom asked. Okay, I get it, but you’re not obligated to anymore because I’m your mom's friend’s kid. Just stop.”

“That’s not why–”

“Stop lying–”

“I’m not fucking lying,” he says matching your stance. His gaze meets yours in anguish, urging you to drop it.

You scoff, lying back down in a sleeping position with your back turned towards him. “Whatever.”

“...Despite popular belief, I’m actually concerned about you sometimes.”

“I guess…I don't entirely find that hard to believe.”

“Thank you. It’s not like I hate you.”

“Sure,” you answer, voice basted in sarcasm.

“I don’t.” You hear his body shift back down on the couch, finding comfort between the leather cushions.

“Then why are you such a dick.”

He sighs. “Sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“...Sorry.”

You ponder to yourself, wanting to turn back the clock to the earlier conversation for unknown reasons. You turn your body, seeing how his body mimics your body seconds ago, back turned, eyes closed, and facing the couch. “So if not Gina–”

“There’s no one,” he cuts off, “I mean, I'm not seeing anyone.”

It reassures you. Not that it should’ve. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Okay.”

You’re unsure when you drifted off, you only remember it being mid-conversation that your vision started to blur, followed by darkness and soon the light of the following morning. You wake up in Wonwoo’s house unexpectedly alone, quiet enough to hear the sound of a pin dropping. You enter the kitchen, parched, and you find a plate of food. You approach cautiously, catching a glimpse of the note, immediately catching on to why it was so damn empty.

Went to get stuff done. Keep yourself entertained for a bit. - Wonwoo and Seonwoo

With an impish grin, you quickly run your fork over and over into the balanced meal and nourish your body, but slow down as your subconscious reminds you of last night's events. It wanders to your impulse to attend a party out of sheer boredom, stumbling upon an unexpected scene, before immediately trying to escape it before you are caught. The kiss becomes a scene stuck on replay, playing the image like a broken record. You did not black out, though you wish you had, considering your uncalled-for badgering of Wonwoo’s relationship status you shouldn’t have cared less about. Yet do.

You try bruising it off if you can help it, quick to leave, and relieved to find your mom home to let you in. Your day begins a new, and with a new day, she already has stuff for you to do. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so grateful to be let back in home, remembering to grab your keys this time as you left the house again following her request for grocery shopping.

You drink in the town for the first time since being back, questioning yourself why you hadn’t done it earlier. The block isn’t that different since you left, perhaps more greenery and flowers, but otherwise everything looked the same. Same old town, same old stores, the only thing difference was the people. Fine lines got deeper, toddlers now taller, and you now a stranger. Even the grocery store has changed managers, one adolescent bag boy at a time.

Even long finished with grocery shopping, you’re still wandering the center of town, circling in steps of the alternating tiles of the ground. For a moment, you free yourself from your thoughts, your worries, your ambitions, and live in the moment. It had been so long since you felt like this. You expected the feeling to emerge in college but that had been just another thing on your plate and suddenly you’re reminded of Wonwoo. Knowing him, he’d like this sight of you, proud to see you experience another emotion for a change.

Then your eyes flit back to the scene several meters from you. He reappears in your vision just as he has in your thoughts, only now Gina embracing him, squeezing the life out of him just as the life is squeezed out of your chest. He meets your eyes, his pupils expanding, before lightly pushing the poor girl off of him, but not in enough time to stop you from trying to escape again.

“Hey!”

You ignore him, letting your feet take you where it guides you. You’re blind to the incoming obstacles, brushing past pedestrians, shoulder everybody you meet, and you barely register the busy road before your feet make an unexpected halt. You hear the blaring honks until you’re pulled out, face crashing into their shoulder, arms coming around your in strong enclosure.

“Are you stupid? Why are you running into oncoming traffic?”

You shove him off, heart beating louder in your chest than any bike ride he’s taken you on has, and you’re seething in an emotion that you never expected to be in. Never in this lifetime at least. “Wonwoo just stop. Please.”

“I’m not doing anything. I don’t get why you’re trying to push me away.”

“I’m just sick of this. Of you. I can’t do this.”

“Why? Why? What do you think this is?”

“Just, leave me alone, Wonwoo.”

He sees you trying to walk out on him again and he doesn’t let you. Taking you by your arm, he pulls you towards him, leaving only the width of your forearm as his gaze pierces right through you, brimming with a mix of concern and utter anger. Frustration. Impatience.

If there was one thing about Wonwoo, he may have looked like he came from an anger management class, but he did manage it well. When he didn’t, your feet would feel glued to the concrete, frozen in the fire of his eyes, for once fearing what the man had to say.

“You know what? No. I’m not letting you do this? I don’t understand what’s going on or why you hate me so much–”

“God,” you groan, “it would be so easy if I just hated you.”

“Then what is it? You don’t hate me. You don’t like me. What? I’m wracking my brain trying to understand you–”

You don’t let him finish. You aren't sure what was in the breakfast you had today but you find yourself pulling him by the collar to meet his lips only to push him away in that instant, barely a whisper of his presence in your mouth. You clamp your hand over your mouth before finally treading away shocked by your actions, scurrying away.

He doesn’t follow you and you don’t blame him. You retrieve your once-abandoned groceries from the intersection to then find your way home. Rain is close to follow, drenching from head to toe. As if things couldn’t get any worse.

When you get home, you’re alone once again. The door shuts with a clang and you’re left in your self wallow, regret burning the back of your throat. Your back slid against the wood, a deep exhale expelling from your lungs. “So that’s what’s wrong with me.”

Like clockwork, you feel a knock erupt from the same door. Conceding to whatever was on the other side, you brush yourself up from the ground and turn the knob, only to be taken aback. Wonwoo, wet like made from glass with his locks swept over his head, stands before you panting. On either hand is a bundle of flowers barely protected in the cellophane it came with when he bought them and his cell phone he’s death gripping in his hand, no doubt damaged by the rain.

You blink back at him, lips parting in confusion. “Wonwoo…You’re wet.”

“Likewise.” He invites himself in and sets the flowers on a table nearby, not even for a second letting his gaze stray from yours. “You left me hanging there. Kiss a guy and walk away like he means nothing?”

You shake your head in disbelief, processing this, him. “Why are you here…with flowers?”

“I really do have to spell out everything for you, don’t I?” he responds smiling.

The squelch of his shoes trod in your direction, the invisible string connecting you two shortening. Preventing your evasion, you feel the palm of his hand against your back and your lips crash in a lingering reunion. The squeak of his slippery leather doesn't make it past your ears, distracted by the heat of his lips in the clash of the coolness of his rain-stained skin.

Your hand crawls up his neck to press him closer, feeling the strength of his arms wrap around you tighter before shutting the front door effortlessly with his foot. He lets you pin him against the door, lips tight bound to yours, and relief settles in his stomach as you show no sign of pulling away. He finds himself whispering a word of gratitude in every language, smiling against your lips. “No more excuses…I’m not letting anyone get in the way. Not even you.”

You finally break out in a smile, brushing it against his lips before reclaiming them, not minding the wet leather.

You spend the rest of the day in each other’s company. You put away the groceries before the room temperature worked against their favor and got yourselves changed out of your rain-dampened clothes, throwing them in the dryer. Even if he lived right next door, you allow him to wear your most oversized shirt after he insisted he should, watching the cotton fabric cling to his broad shoulders with the hem just hitting him at his hip bone.

Man, he’s a large man.

“Kinda snug.”

You scoff, crossing your arms in an attempt to hold yourself back. “You can get clothes next door. You’re just a few steps away.”

He grins, approaching you. “It’s raining…I could get sick.” His long arms land on either of your shoulders, reminding you of that cat that knew too much in a childhood cartoon. “You don’t want me sick…”

“You wouldn’t get sick taking two long strides to your house, Jeon,” you respond, rolling your eyes, unable to meet his.

“But you’d take care of me if I was, right?”

You roll your eyes, accepting his advances of a hug and feeling his chin fit in the crook of your neck. “Kiss a guy two times too many and he follows you around like a stray cat.”

He grins. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t. You probably even like my bike and you’re not telling me.”

“Okay well, no. Those are two separate matters.”

His arms wrap around you tighter before reuniting your lips, such tenderness and sweetness in his gaze as he thumbs over the curve of your cheek. “You don’t deny that other thing.”

“I thought was already point blank. You know, when I didn’t push you away, kicking and screaming.”

“Yeah, but,” he shrugs, his cheekbones only getting higher. “Hard to come by something nice from you. I want to hear it.”

You sigh, giving in. “Fine.”

Your head fit between the divide of his chest, hearing a quickened pulse underneath it. You close your eyes as your hand strokes against his back. “I have… feelings for you. Maybe for once good feelings. Just don’t get cocky about it.”

Overwashed with calm joy, he takes you tighter, inhaling the soap in your hair. “Too late.”

#svthub #wonwoo #wonwoo angst #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen #jeon wonwoo angst #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #jwon wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x you #jeon wonwoo x y/n

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jedi-starbird · 4 months

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A happier galaxy where the disaster lineage is somewhat less on fire constantly and senior padawan Obi-wan has developed a fixation on Mandalorians:

Sometimes Feemor regretted just how much he had given away when he had spent 5 expensive months bribing a traumatised Obi-wan to call him brother when he was 14. His dignity, for one, his access codes and shadow cloaking techniques, another. So he had a very dignified reaction when he was awoken to the shine of his younger brother's eyes in the dark at the foot of his bed. "I wou-stop screaming it's just me-I would like a Mandalorian. How do I procure one?"

"How the fuck should I know?"

Obi-wan scowled as if Feemor was being difficult, he wasn't, he wasn't quite awake enough for that yet. "You're a shadow, you're supposed to know things."

Ah, if being a shadow granted you the secrets of the universe instead of just a great many planetary governments, Feemor wouldn't spend so much time wondering what dark rituals Dooku had committed to result in Qui-gon Jinn. (He already knew what regular rituals Qui-gon had committed to result in Obi-wan)

"I know that I'm about to punt you out of my room right now."

"...My birthday is coming up, I believe I deserve compensation for all the traumas."

Obi-wan's eyes were very big now. Feemor sighed. He flopped back down into bed. He resisted the urge to pull his blankets back up and roll over. 'Oh sure when it's time to see mind healers everything's fine but now-'

"Shouldn't you be asking Master then?"

"Master would not approve of how I plan to use the Mandalorian."

He squinted at Obi-wan for a long moment. Obi-wan stared back. He did some quick mental maths and tried not to feel old. Eh. Fine. Feemor swung his legs out of bed. "You had me at 'Master wouldn't approve'."

"Do you think I could get one by walking into little Keldabe and asking very nicely?"

As it turns out, yes he could. A few too many in fact, apparently Jedi, their ancestral enemy, in the Mando district attracted attention, who knew? Feemor knew, Feemor would have known if only he had been properly awake when this semblence of a plan was proposed. He stalked through the cantina towards Obi-wan who was leaning slightly forwards against a pillar, ah...speaking, to a Mandalorian with painted orange armour while surrounded by a larger crowd of Mandos. At least they seem mostly amused. He ignored the youngers squawk as he yanked the back of his robes so that he moved away from the Mandalorian and spun him around.

"You cannot solve centuries of animosity by batting your eyelashes."

"I'm not batting my eyelashes " Obi-wan sniffed," I'm shaking my ass, there's decidedly more effort involved."

"I miss when I was an only child." Feemor sighed deeply. He used the force to scruff the neck of Obi-wan's robes and dangle him slightly in the air. He ignored the shouting from beside him and bowed politely to the staring Mandos. "My apologies for the disturbance, this will not happ-" He considered his brother who was now yelling out his personal comm code with a wink. " Please excuse us, this very probably will happen again, we shall workshop it. May the force be with you all."

I don't have a fully planned AU but it is Codywan!!! cause I love those bitches but have some more dialogue I came up with for this AU. I'm imagining them both as like 20-23, Obi's close to knighthood. He's still a padawan for this because I think him causing Qui-gon headaches is funny. Feemor fully thinks this complicated courtship dance Obi's created is funny, he likes studying his little brother like a bug, he just wasn't prepared for him to just waltz into little kelbade and start hitting on people, though he really should have been.

Hand wavy timeline with Jaster alive but the clones are still clones, Jango was kidnapped and held in stasis or something, Jaster claimed them as Mandos. This is really just about Obi's first and biggest diplomatic achivement being friendly Jedi-Mando relations purely cause he was in his thot era. This also somehow saves the galaxy from the sith.

I like to imagine that Cody's brothers recorded that little exchange between Fee and Obi on their helmets and uploaded it online where it went viral on MandoNet before going viral galaxywide because wait holy shit is that a Jedi saying that????. Qui-gon gets called in for a very weird meeting where the council's like ok so the entire holonet has seen your padawan being horny on main but also this is like the biggest jump in our diplomatic relationship with the Mandos in centuries so like can we keep this up somehow? This results in Obi-wan being holonet famous, first through vode recordings but then he starts a space tumblr and twitter account and he's famous now. Then his friends and other jedi start accounts because wait we're allowed to do that? and those become big as well and this is literally the best PR the jedi have had in hundreds of years. the holonet loves them. the sith are fuming.

Obi-wan, scoffing: What were they gonna do? Shoot me? Feemor: Yes. Obi-wan: I don't believe in blasters. Bly: ...like as a concept...? Obi-wan: No, spiritually.

Obi-wan: I'm sure there's a nice Mandalorian we can find for you Feemor: I'm not sure those 2 words belong together Obi-wan: No of course not, we can't find a nice one, then they'd be all alone, we need to find an absolute bastard of one so that you two match :)

Obi-wan: Oh so Master gets to take in pathetic life forms but I don't? This one's already domesticated! Wolffe: Debatable. Feemor: Cody's a person! Not a stray tooka! Obi-wan: Master takes in stray people all the time! That's how he got me!

Qui-gon: How do you explain this behaviour Padawan ? Obi-wan: The force pushed me towards the Mandalorians Master, it was quite insistent on me developing better relations with them given our difficult history. Feemor: Fascinating, please do elaborate, I'd love to hear the theological implications of a force-assigned kink.

#yes i will put jedi on social media into everything #i think early 20s menace obi wan with equally menace cody is so good #cody looks at this ginger twink and is like oh theres definitely something wrong with him but he amuses me so hes allowed to stay #cody: obi wan has 57 mental illnesses and is banned from most public spaces how can i not fuck him?#star wars #obi wan kenobi #feemor #codywan #commander cody #feemor and obi wan #jedi order #disaster lineage #star wars fic

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moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami · 2 months

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of seas and torment

a regency au—

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader feat. younger brother!percy

warnings: a bit suggestive in the beginning, also defo unfinished because this is just a blurb i don't actually plan on writing a proper one shot with 😭 do with this what you will, i suppose 😋

to vex a viscount (of seas and torment entry), make do (of seas and torment entry)

⚔°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"do you honestly think," luke says through gritted teeth. the fire blazes behind him casting a warm glow through his eyes, strong enough to rival the heat of his ire. "that there is a place on this earth you can run to far enough to free me from this torment?"

you glare into his eyes. you see a flash of desire shine through them. you feel your knees weaken, your hands immediately clutching at the desk behind you. "lord castellan—"

he leans in closer, your noses touching. the distance between your lips is agonizingly magnetic. you wish to press yours against him, to finally give fruition to the images that plague your mind before you sleep.

"no," he shakes his head. he doesn't move away. his fingers brush against the expanse of your neck, thumb pressing lightly into the pulse beneath your jaw. "you could swim yourself ragged into the depths of the sea or even hide amidst the pillars of olympus, but i will never be free."

you shiver against his touch. he moves himself into the open space between your parted legs. his other hand traces your thighs, lingers on your hips, then squeezes your waist.

"marry me, hm?" he asks. he finally pushes his lips against yours, wanting and greedy with lust. luke moves his hands down to your knees, rubbing soothing lines into them. you gasp when he pushes his palms up to your derriere; he takes the opportunity to slot his tongue into your mouth. "marry me and bring me peace."

"alright." you respond, completely dazed from a lack of air but indescribably needing more of him.

⚔°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"i shall defend your honor!" percy declares, wrenching a sword from one of the rather gaudy display cases in your father's study.

"you are barely six and ten years of age!" you yell as you rush after him, breathless. his gait is far quicker than yours. "you will do no such thing!"

he's out of the door before you reach him, his linen shirt billowing in the wind as it pounds against the rocky shores. you glance down the cliff of the estate and see the chaos of the sea below. you pale at the sight.

"i am the lord of the house!" he yells back, pausing in his steps for a moment to turn to you. he raises the sword into the air as if to prove his point. "no man shall disrespect my sister!"

the soles of your shoe dig into the mud, the heels simultaneously sticky and slippery. you lift your skirts still, even if they are soiled. percy begins to move again when you approach closer. at least one of you had the forethought to put on proper footwear.

you groan in irritation. "he did not disrespect me! we are betrothed!"

"he kissed you before your engagement!" he turns to you again. even through the distance, you could hear his voice crack. "return home, sister! it is improper for him to see you like this!"

"i will not return unless you come with me!" you screech over the temperamental weather. you stomp your foot on the ground, even if it doesn't come off as impactful as it should have. "perseus!"

"do you see how the tides have turned?" he asks when he reaches the gate. you're a few metres behind him. "clearly, father agrees with me!"

"you're being irrational!" the ground rattles before a wave of saltwater hits you. you're unscathed, of course— you could not say the same for your hair.

"ha! see?!" he proclaims triumphantly before pushing the gate open, locking the gate. he plays with the keys and dangles it mockingly in front of you.

"you're going to lose that!" you grasp the silver metal bars, attempting to free the hinge. percy shakes his head.

"all the better," he grins. "that means you can never leave! the castellan boy shall never see you again. that is his payment for his offense."

"fool!" you huff. "losing the key means you can't get in."

"yes but unlike that little heathen," he curls his mouth in distaste, "i can swim."

"yes, but he can fly!" you exclaim as he begins to pick up his pace and walk away once more. he waves his hand to dismiss your qualms before disappearing into the thick of trees that led to town.

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy pjo #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #percy series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians

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nonomives · 1 year

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Hunt vs. Hunted AU

(a.k.a. Vampire Wally AU)

Meet the Kardashians—i mean the Pillars

Part 1 || 2 || 3

Character line-up (Oldest to youngest)

So a bit of character Info:

There were more of them, but given the dangers of the monster hunter's profession, theyre the only ones left.

Hannah Pillar

She isn't the actual eldest sibling of the bunch, but among those who are still alive and somewhat sane, she is the oldest. A former mercenary whose main weapons were firearms. She was quite successful in her career but a traumatic incident happened that led to her not being able to weild a gun anymore. She eventually got hired as a desk worker in H.A. (Hunter's Assossiation) mainly handing out missions or intel to monster hunters.

She has a stable relationship with all of her siblings, sometimes the person everyone tells their worries to. She's nutruing and mature, but can also be quite cold and strict when need be. She is also often apathetic to things around her, something that got carried over even after she stopped being a hunter.

Harvey Pillar

Acting second oldest, Harvey is the genius of the group, or so he constantly claims himself to be. There is truth to what he says though since he works as a researcher in H.A. where he gathers information about the various mythical creatures the company had captured. Once, he used to admire this type of work until witnessing a thing or two which led him to be quite nihilistic. He's mainly just in it for the bragging rights and the money now.

Complete drama queen. Heidonistic and arrogant, he can come off as an asshole once he opens his mouth. Hannah keeps him in check most of the time. He does try to act like a big brother but struggles to be sincere about anything because he thinks it's a weakness. Very insecure, easily gets envious, especially of Howdy. For as vocal as he is, he does have many skeletons in his closet.

Howdy Pillar

A very popular hunter that is crowned The Hero of the Century, succeeding his late older brother, Howard Pillar. This is all due to his countless instances of saving people from dangerous monsters, especially feral vampires. Add this and his family background, he was made the H.A.'s face man, appearing in many interviews and posters for the company. He is quite the busy man, and Hannah usually acts as his manager, helping him with his packed schedule.

Howdy is closest with Hannah, but he also enjoys the banters he gets with Harvey. Charismatic and witty, many would think he is a perfect person, the ideal hero. The reality of it though is that Howdy is only in it for the revenge of his deceased siblings. While he smiles and acts relaxed in public, he is otherwise serious and gruff. Doesnt trust easy either. He also doesnt like how the media portrays him and would try to avoid being detected by anybody while he's on the job.

Here's a sketch lol

Honey Pillar

The youngest of the group. She is the black sheep of the family, refusing to associate with H.A. or monster hunting in general, and choosing a career as an actress instead. Despite the controversy that came with this decision, Honey ended up becoming famous because of her alluring personality on the screen.

Aside from Hannah, she despises everyone. She hates Howdy especially because of an instance that lead to her twin sister's death and her loss of 2 arms. She hates Harvey a little less but prefers not talking to him at all. Honey is a drama queen herself, but in a less direct way.

#this will probs be the last post i make for a while #i have to focus on my acads so my activity here will be dead lmao #therare some stuff Ive got planned tho! like a couple animatics ive been dying to finish and show yall #so just expect that :3 #in the mean time #see yall after my break lol--#welcome home #welcome home fanart #welcome home oc #welcome home howdy #howdy pillar #welcome home vampire wally au #i might actually change this to a different title bc vampire wally is too common a name lol--#lmao #vampire wally au #welcome home hunt vs. hunted AU

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fengxun · 6 months

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HEART SHAKER! – YONE X READER

Yone usually regrets saying yes to what Kayn or Ezreal rope him in, but this time around, he doesn’t regret it at all.

CONTENT.⠀Idol AU. Gender-neutral reader. Tooth-rotting fluff, first dates, hopeful ending because Yone deserves happiness. Requested by @fictionfordays. Hope you enjoy! ~1.3k words

CROSS-POSTED ON AO3 / @angelshub @bitchcraftinc

Yone thinks he’s too old to be putting up with whatever shenanigans Kayn and Ezreal keep pulling him into.

Between promotions, interviews, production, and taking care of the group, he’s dedicated the majority of his time to being responsible and ensuring everything is in tip-top shape. He’s not unfamiliar with having responsibility be the key pillar in his life. Since he was a child, he took it upon himself to be someone his younger brother could look up to. He did everything he could to help his parents, working himself to the bone to ensure his family’s comfort. Not much has changed even when he’s become an idol.

Despite his weariness on some days, he can’t deny that he’s grown fond of his fellow members. He’ll put up with Aphelios’ pranks, Kayn’s ‘forgetfulness’ in doing his chores, Ezreal’s little jokes, and whatever else his life in HEARTSTEEL brings him. He supposes it’s why he found himself saying yes to Ezreal’s idea of a blind date.

Indulging in a silly idea once is harmless, he thinks. Maybe if he just went along, it’ll sate Ezreal enough to leave him be for a while. As happy (well, not really) as he is to indulge in his friend’s antics, he’d also prefer it if Ezreal didn’t bring up the idea every other day. And even if this is just to keep his all-too-enthusiastic friend at bay, he’s also not one to do things halfheartedly. For the first time since his audition, Yone is somewhat nervous.

Meeting new people isn’t all too familiar. He always greets his seniors, juniors, staff, or anyone he may come across on the job. But this isn’t a job, it’s something meant to potentially spark romance in his life which is far from professional. He hasn’t even been on a regular date. He’s well aware of what it usually entails, but he’s never actively sought out this sort of thing. He hopes whoever his date will be won’t feel too disappointed if he doesn’t catch their interest. He knows they’re Ezreal’s friend, but that doesn’t quite narrow it down.

He fiddles with his face mask (for safety measures, really) as he waits for his date at the table. Thanks to Kayn, the street where the restaurant is located is completely silent save for its employees and the occasional unknowing passer-by. He’s not sure what Kayn did—in fact, he’s not even going to ask—but if it means not having to stress as much about paparazzi and overly eager fans, he’s not going to pass up the opportunity.

“Gosh, sorry I’m late—Yone?”

Said man looks up from his drink with wide eyes, surprised to see that you’re standing right in front of him. Or, more accurately, one of Ezreal’s best friends, and the fact that both of you are surprised means that the guy’s got more talent for discretion than he let on.

“Did Ezreal put you up to this?” you ask with an amused lilt, taking a seat in front of him. He nods quietly. “Hm. So that’s why he’s been so suspicious lately. Seraphine just told me she wanted me to meet a friend, but well… I didn’t think it’d be you.”

“Are you disappointed?” Yone blurts out.

The corners of your lips curl into a small smile. “No, of course not. I’m pretty happy about it, actually. But what brings you here?”

He doesn’t know you that well, he realises. While you’re always there for the group dinners or parties, he’s never had a proper conversation with you aside from simple hellos here and there. He’s not too familiar with the warmth rising in his cheeks either, but if he has to guess, it definitely has something to do with the way you’re looking at him.

“Ah, well…” He’s not sure if he should say the truth. He’s aloof, yes, but he’s not insensitive. “Ezreal thought I should try something new.”

“Hey, that makes both of us! By the way, I have the same Poro keychain! They’re really cute, aren’t they?”

He feels relieved that you seem to be carrying the conversation just fine even if he doesn’t think he’s great at it. Usually, the extroverts of HEARTSTEEL are responsible for answering interview questions. Yone’s there for the more professional and practical side of things, like speaking to other producers or the company president. As you start to talk about your day, he listens to every word and finds himself getting lost in how much he likes being in your presence. You’re more animated than he is and you still ask about his day even when he doesn’t believe it’s as interesting as yours.

He really likes that about you, he concludes.

“I forgot to mention this, but isn’t this district usually full of people? Why’s it so quiet today?” Your curious expression practically has him melting at how adorable you look. He prides himself on keeping his composure, but your presence alone is making him doubt his ability to be calm.

Yone is never nervous. The only other time he’s felt that way was when he first stepped through the company doors as a trainee. But the longer he sits here with you, his heart races and it’s getting harder to focus when you’re undoubtedly quite a perfect match for him.

(Damn that kid and his ‘super senses.’)

He clears his throat. “Kayn’s responsible for it.”

Perfect . He zoned out thinking about you when you’re right in front of him and he completely forgot to answer your question. Lucky enough, you don’t seem to mind.

“I’m… not sure I want to know the details.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t ask, either.” He chuckles. “I think it’s better not to.”

Your laughter rings beautifully like every song he’s ever loved. Everything feels new, and his thoughts are running a mile a minute, but he thinks he wants to take this jump into spontaneity and adventure with you.

“It’s getting late… I should head back. Gotta be on set early tomorrow.”

“Could we do this again?”

Your features soften into a teasing smile. “You like me already, don’t you?”

“Well, yes—”

“Of course, we can do this again,” you say gently, “I like you too, Yone. You don’t have to be so nervous around me.”

You reach over the table to take his hand in yours and he damn near short circuits at how your hand fits in so perfectly with his. He can barely process the coy glint in your eyes from how flustered he feels.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“Oh, a gentleman!” you chirp, “Now I wish I’d spoken to you sooner.”

The walk to the train station is too short for his liking. He’d really like to spend the rest of the night with you, but you still have things to do and Yone can’t be away for too long lest something happens in the dorm. As if you could sense him sulking, you gently tug on his sleeve and urge him to look at you. Before he can ask, you’re already leaning up to press a chaste kiss on his cheek, an action that has his eyes widening and his heart racing once again.

“I’ll see you again, Yone.”

His face feels like it’s burning as he watches you skip and disappear into the crowd. How can a single person reduce him to such a state so effortlessly? Still, he can’t help but look forward to the next time he’ll get to spend time with you again. He thinks you’re going to be quite the presence in his life and he’s more than happy to let that happen.

Yone usually regrets saying yes to what Kayn or Ezreal rope him in, but this time around, he doesn’t regret it at all. He couldn’t wait to see you again. Maybe without his friends meddling in this time, but he supposes he does have them to thank for leading him to you.

Plus, he still needs to get your number.

#yone x reader #heartsteel yone x reader #heartsteel x reader #league of legends x reader #all #bitchcraftinc #angelshubnetwork

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kittykat-25 · 2 months

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One Of The Guys

Pairings: Hongjoong x F! Reader

Genre: idol au, Friends x Lovers, angst

Summary: You tried really hard not to be a cliché, falling love with your best friend. How unoriginal. But when your best friend is Kim Hongjoong what are you supposed to do?

Now Playing: One Of The Guys- Jessia

Word Count: 1.6k

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Epilogue

Being friends with Hongjoong had led to you meeting the rest of his members. And soon enough you were the ninth person of the friend group. While you cared about and respected all of them, Wooyoung and Mingi had taken it upon themselves to be your pillars. The two who kept you sane and standing. They quickly caught on to how you felt about their captain. The others had as well but they chose to respect your privacy, Woo and Mingi; not so much. You were grateful for the two dorks who kept you on your toes and only left your side when needed. Hongjoong loved that his members had taken you in so quickly. He knew they all adored you and would look after you when he couldn’t. Y/n had always been a comforting presence to him, he knew Hwa called you when he got too far into his head. You would show up, make him take a break and relax and then sit down and help until he felt confident in his work. You had started taking care of the kids too at some point, bringing food when they practiced late, making sure the fridge at the studio was stocked of their favorite snacks and drinks. The staff had told him of you coming by early on the way into work to drop off treats for them. You cared about everyone one around you, so he had made it his mission to be that person for you as well. A protector, a friend, a big brother of sorts. Little did he know he was breaking your heart in the process.

Saturday night you made your way up the stairs of the dorm, take out bags lining your arms. You stop at a door and give it a few swift kicks alerting the eight men inside. Yunho throws the door open, looking down at you. "Need help with that shorty?" you threw him a glare, "I can take your food and give it to Woo." Yunho reached out and took some bags leading her inside. "Y/N's here." He called into the apartment. You started unpacking food containers onto the counter when a massive hand came down onto your head, "Thanks cupcake!" Ming said while ruffling your hair. "Anything for you Princess." You smirked back and you elbowed him away from you. “Leave Y/N alone, they were nice enough to bring us food.” You heard the oldest boy call as he walked into the kitchen. “At least one of you has some manners.” You said as you handed Seonghwa his food. “Yah I offered to cook but noooo I just go bullied for suggesting it.” Wooyoung said plopping his chin down on top of your head. “Poor little baby, getting bullied?” You fake pout. Wooyoung dug his chin into your head. “Owh Woo!!” You said swatting at the menace. “Have some respect for your elders Hyung.” Jongho said as he sat down next to Yunho on the couch. “Oh because you do that so well?!” Wooyoung called back. You laughed as you grabbed the eighth container. The boys bickering getting quieter as you head down the hallway to Hongjoong’s room.

You knocked on the door, a muffled “yeah?” came through. “Joongie?” You called opened the door into a dark room. You looked over at the only light source, Hongjoong sitting in front of his laptop, his silhouette sending butterflies through your body. “You know you have to eat to stay alive right?” You said softly as you sat the container in front of him. He looked up at you “I just need to finish this clip for Eden Hyung.” Eyes focused back on the screen. “Joong, you can’t finish it if you’re unconscious from lack of food. When was the last time you ate?” He spun his chair around to face you as you sat on the edge of his bed, “I ate breakfast this morning.” You looked down at your watch, “it’s 11pm. You haven’t eaten in over twelve hours.” He turned his chair back around, “thank you for the food y/n-ie. Go eat with the others, I’ll join in a bit.” Y/n looked at the back of his head and stood up and walked to the door. Looking back at the man who had no clue that he held your heart in his hands. “Let’s not lie, we both know you aren’t leaving until you’re satisfied. Just make sure you eat please Joong.” You said quietly before shutting the door.

You made your way back into the main room, curling up in the couch beside Wooyoung. They had started a movie and everyone was hyper fixated on it. Wooyoung nudged you in the side lightly, nodding towards the kitchen. You got up and followed him out of the room. Leaning against the counter you watched him clean up the take out containers. “What happened?” He asked quietly. “What do you mean?” He stopped and looked down at you, eyes soft and full of pity. “Bubs you have the same defeated look as when your book doesn’t end the way you want. What happened?” You twisted the ends of your hair, another sign to Woo that something was wrong. Being friend with them the past 7 years he learned to pick up your anxious habits. “Nothing happened, same Joong as always.” Wooyoung nodded his head, he opened his mouth to speak when Mingi walked in. “Y/n do you think you should just tell him how you feel?” He said casually as he set his cup in the sink. “Going straight for kill aren’t you Minki?” Woo said trying to lighten the mood. “And do what? Ruin my friendship? Lose all of you? No thank you. I’m happy to sit here in misery.” You said while picking at the hem of your shirt. Mingi grabbed your hands “you wouldn’t lose us cupcake.” He said softly. “Yah y/n you can’t lose me, I’m like glitter. I never leave.” Wooyoung said. He threw his arm around your shoulder “besides who else is going to protect me from all of them.” He whispered as he lead you back into the living room.

You woke up on the couch, a blanket thrown over you and Wooyoung sprawled out on the floor beside you. You looked around taking in the guys sleeping peacefully around the room. Noticing one blonde haired man missing you pulled yourself up wrapping the blanket around you and trudged down the hall to his room. You lightly knocked before opening the door and found him asleep at his desk. Quietly walked to him, making sure the clip was saved; you gently shook his shoulder. Hoongjoongs eyes shot open, calming down when he saw your face. “Bed now don’t even try to object Kim Hongjoong.” You said before he could defend himself. He stood and walked over to his bed throwing the blankets back and climbing in.

He patted the pillow beside his and you hesitantly laid down next to him. You had shared a bed before but every time it messed with your head. “Do you work today?” He asked, his eyes scanning your face. “No Joongie, it’s Sunday.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. He pulled your blanket up and softly patted the top of your head, “then get some rest.” You calmed yourself to where your cheeks wouldn’t glow red, glad his eyes were closed. “You need it more than I do.” He hummed quietly in answer. You laid there until his breathing evened out and you knew he was asleep before slipped silently off the bed and back into the living room. You could hear someone moving around the kitchen, cooling your features you walked in there. “Hey shorty, sleep well?” Yunho said as you make your way into the space. You nodded your head, “I’m probably going to head out soon.” You croaked, voice laced with emotions you wanted to shove down. Yunho looked at you and the direction you came from and nodded his head. “Do you need me to walk you home? Or wake up Mings to do it?” You shook your head, “I’m good but thanks Yuyu. I’ll see you all later.” You laid your blanket over Wooyoung and gathered your things, looking back down the dark hallway towards his room once more before walking to the door and letting it close behind you.

You made your way down the street to a convenience store to grab a coffee before started the walk back to your place. You heard someone calling your name and saw Wooyoung and San jogging down the street after you. “You were sleeping when I left?! Not even five minutes ago!” You said once the two men got close enough. “Yunho woke me up, he was worried about you.” Wooyoung said while catching his breath. You moved your eyes over to San, “Woo stepped on me as he was leaving.” You started laughing “of course he did. Well let’s go get you both some food and I need caffeine.” You made your way into a café and ordered. Chit chatting about plans for the day and soaking up quality time together. “I’m meeting Changbin later at a game room later if you want to join?” Wooyoung suggested as you walked down the street, “it could be fun?” You shook your head, “I’m terrible at computer games Woo.” Wooyoung gave you his best pout face “please.” You rolled your eyes, “no I have things I need to get done today.” He jutted out his lip even more “I’ll buy you lunch, please Bin is nicer to me when you’re there.” You laughed and shook your head, “fine, fine. But I want lunch and a coffee.” Wooyoung tackled you into a hug as you stopped in front of your apartment building. “Be ready around 1, I’ll come get you.” You gave a thumbs up as you walked into the building. Feeling much lighter than you did this morning.

Taglist🥰

@vampzity @sanslovesblog @sundaybossanova @skzline @edenesth @owmoiralover @scarfac3 @mingisbbokari

#ateez #friends to lovers #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #wooyoung #mingi #yunho #seonghwa #choi san #jongho #yeosang

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peachdues · 3 months

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THE DIVINING ROD — PROLOGUE

Obanai’s Tell Me to Stop

A/N: the prologue to Obanai’s installment of Tell Me to Stop, first teased here.

CW: canon setting AU • Reader is the Vine Pillar • blood • angst • scars • mentions of past torture • panic • this fic will be HELLA NSFW so MDNI

From the first day he drew his sword, Obanai Iguro knew life within the Demon Slayer Corps meant accepting two, twin truths.

The first was this: a career as a swordsman of the Corps means one’s life expectancy is cut drastically short. Few make it to adulthood; even fewer to retirement.

The second truth is that your time within the Corps is marked by one or two events: either you live to see another day, or you do not. There is no in between; it is either life or death, and more often than not, the Slayers themselves do not have the luxury of choosing between the two. That choice is finite and there is no gray. Members of the Demon Slayer Corps do not go missing; either they are torn apart and devoured by the very monsters they fight, or they live to see the next sunrise, only to await nightfall once more and thrust their lives back into the fickle, shifty hands of fate.

No slayer is spared that perilous dance, no matter their rank. Mizunotos and Hashira alike all know that their tether to the world they’re trying to save is little more than a fraying thread which grows more tenuous by the day, with every battle won at the expense of the lives lost.

The crows; it is the crows, the harbingers of both victory and death, who keep them apprised of their numbers. Slayers do not go missing; they are either dead or they are not. If there is nothing left of a Slayer to bury, their crow will say as much, and they will still get a headstone in the Master’s ever-growing graveyard. The crows always return, even when their assigned masters do not. It is the expectation; a given.

There is no protocol in the event neither Slayer nor crow returns, and it is that absence which blows a gaping, jagged hole right through Obanai’s understanding of his nature not just as a Hashira, but his very existence as a swordsman.

Because the Vine Pillar has vanished and there is no trace of either her or her bird to be found. There is no frantic, bleating announcement that she’s fallen at the hands of some formidable foe, no mournful sobs of the Kakushi as they solemnly carry a box bearing whatever of her remained to be buried with her brothers and sisters in death.

There was only silence; thick, oppressive, loud silence that is punctuated by the conspicuous gap in the lineup of Pillars gathered for an emergency meeting at Headquarters.

The air between the Sound and Insect Pillars is still; a tear in the fabric of reality, pulled back to reveal that something is wrong, something is out of place.

Something is missing.

Obanai cannot stop staring at it; that space between Kocho and Uzui, the utter absence of matter that should form that familiar face, that signature haori, everything that makes up her and her warmth and her comfort.

Everything he cherishes.

“Then she is dead,” Uzui declares once the Master’s children finish explaining their summoning.

“We don’t know for certain,” a soft voice, feminine and evocative of that which is distinctly pink, rises above their heads at the opposite end of their line. “Missions often take weeks, and she may simply be unable to answer —,”

“No one has seen or heard from her in weeks, nor has there been any sight of her crow.” The Sound Pillar challenges, though not unkindly. He is familiar with the friendship between the Vine and Love Pillars, and he does his best to deliver the blow as painlessly as he can. “Even Y/L/N would not ignore an emergency summons from headquarters, no matter how deep in her mission she might have been.”

Obanai is still staring at the void between his comrades where she should be, but Uzui’s words make his fists clench, the skin of his knuckles white. Beside him, the Wind Pillar shifts, sensing his growing agitation.

His panic.

Though he is inclined to voice his agreement with the pinkette at the end of their formation, Serpent Pillar does not speak. He cannot; not while he is busy retracing the last weeks in his mind, mentally calculating how much time would have passed between that night and the mission she did not return from, and whether there was a chance it was different from the one that haunted his every waking moment.

“Where was she assigned?” Rengoku’s voice was strong and commanding as ever, though if he listened hard enough, Obanai could discern the faintest tremble as the Flame Pillar, too, worried after his absent friend.

“A fishing village in the east.” One of the Master’s twins answers, and it feels like an accusation only he can hear, as Obanai feels the very ground beneath his feet break apart and open wide.

How he wishes the oblivion below the earth would swallow him up.

“She’s dead.” Uzui repeats, his head bowing solemnly.

“She’s not,” both the Love and Flame Pillars insist in unison.

Wide, anxious green eyes peer over the heads of their comrades at him, and Obanai can feel how they burn into his head, beseeching him to say something, anything, but he does not; cannot.

The Master’s pristine garden falls away, as does the rising bickering of the other pillars as they debate the merits of a search and rescue operation; whether they have the numbers or time to spare it any consideration. Whatever they decide, it is without the Serpent Pillar’s vote, because he cannot hear them over the roaring in his ears; the new truth he is forced to bear.

That truism is this: the Vine Pillar is missing.

And it is entirely his fault.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #obanai iguro #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny obanai #kny iguro #obanai x reader #iguro x reader #demon slayer obanai #kny smut #demon slayer smut

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flowerwrites06 · 3 months

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devil on his knees — kth

DEVIL ON HIS KNEES | Taehyung | Oneshot | Request

Original Request: Taehyung as a villain who is willing to kill anyone to protect his beloved oc. This pic literally left me speechless, I low-key want to see villain tae🥹 @yoonberriez Plot: An exiled princess takes her throne with a shamed general. Pairing: General!Taehyung x Queen!OC (Name: Althea) Genre: Royal AU Type: Oneshot Rating: 18+ Word Count: 7.1k Warnings: violence, blood, gore, explicit sexual content (quickies, oral sex), murder, mentions of sexual harassment. Author’s Note: i enjoyed writing this a lot! writing an unhinged couple is definitely an interesting experience. I hope you like this!

It was so easy to forget the blood trails when they were behind Althea, covered by the train of her coronation dress. The crown ripped from her brother’s head rested gently on her own by the high priest as the crowd of people cheered for her arrival. Althea had waited four years, hidden in forests and cowered in tavern rooms until she gathered enough forces to reach this palace. Her home.

As the weight of the crown settled on her head, Althea watched the shadow behind her walk forward. A chill settled in the room when General Taehyung stepped closer to Althea’s feet, eyes darkened and face hardened from the lives he had taken. Everyone with a conscious told her not to bring him into court. That the moment his sword began swinging, there would be no end to the bloodshed.

But they failed to realise Althea wanted blood. Her own brother kicked her out of her home, just as they had been mourning their father. He wanted her to die in that forest, starved and freezing. So why should Althea gather any semblance of kindness?

It was Taehyung, an exiled general who helped her back into the comforts of her life. Not the court members who happily kissed her brother’s feet, not even her maids who quickly rushed to the side of her brother’s wife. No one helped her but him.

Althea loved him for it.

The hardened face cracked into a small but satisfied smile as Taehyung lowered himself for a bow, keeping his eyes fixed on her. As Taehyung made his place known by her side, cheers erupted and echoed through the room.

They had won.

The kingdom of Dysminia was hers to keep.

Althea walked into her bed chambers with a breath of relief. The servants had cleaned and freshened it up during the coronation to ensure. The windows looked at the lit up city, the resonance of celebration echoing through the night, delighting her senses. Ambrose’s inability to rule was inevitable from the moment he started mistreating his servants.

An innocent mistake, the court members used to say when a serving maid left the room with a bruised cheek.

Now he was gone. Buried in a shallow grave somewhere, unknown to anyone. Just the way he hated to be.

She changed out of her dressing with the help of her new maids, back into the soft night dressing of sweet silks and perfumed pillows. Althea dismissed them to be alone for a few minutes. As much as she wished to rejoice in her victory, she also wanted to ruminate and rest her exhausted body.

The tightness she felt in her chest for years, wondering when she’d be able to lie on her bed like this and think of her parents freely. Althea could let a few tears down her cheek, allow herself to be vulnerable in the silence instead of keeping strength until she got what she wanted.

Althea was a queen now.

“Relishing well, your Majesty?” Taehyung’s deep voice reverberated through the room.

She turned to see him standing next to the pillar, wearing his black shirt, untied at the chest and showing off a deep scar near his clavicle. Althea smiled, sitting up on her bed. “I’m sure you enjoyed getting your own army again.”

“They’re a bit frazzled and lazy after Ambrose.” Taehyung crunched his nose. “But they’ll learn soon enough. Also the case of the court members.”

Althea sighed. Fifteen of the twenty selected court members were executed by Taehyung’s sword due to their continued support of Ambrose. The five who lived were essentially too young to care about Ambrose or Althea’s father and their quest to maintain order. They just wanted to survive. “We can deal with them tomorrow morning. I think a few nobles would like those seats.”

“Nobles who sat in between cushions while Ambrose was around.” He walked closer to the bed, standing in front of her like a tower of onyx. “Do you want to trust them with seats now?”

“They’re soft and gullible. But having three of them may smooth the transition to my ascension.”

“I’d call this ascension anything but smooth.”

“I’ll handle the nice things then while you train our army.” Althea leaned back with a smile. “How’re your new quarters?”

“Better. A bit cold.”

“Cold?”

“Missing something.” Taehyung leaned in, playing with the string of her dress.

Althea chuckled through her nose. “They are only a passing courtesy. The court members would want me to be available for any negotiations.”

Taehyung hummed low, the back of his fingers trailing her chest before he pulled on the string fully. “So we should keep this very quiet then, shouldn’t we? As to not offend.”

Althea shook her head with a playful pout. “Of course not.”

Taehyung knelt between her legs, rough fingers pushing up the hem of her dress as the callouses brushed up her skin. “Be very silent then.” He whispered against her lips before moving his head under her dress.

He pulled her core to his mouth, wrapping his lips around her clit causing Althea to gasp.

She touched the top of his head through the fabric of her dress as the pleasure prickled through her lower belly. Althea was forced to only feel, feel his lapping tongue and the heat of his breath as she leaked on the sheets.

Her legs hung over his shoulders as Althea gripped the blankets behind her. Head thrown back, her toes curled, feeling the pressure of his tongue against her clit grow feverish and relentless.

Althea closed her eyes when her vision blurred from the spike of pleasure, moving her hips against his mouth to prolong the sensation. Taehyung slowed, tracing her arousal with his tongue to torture her before latching completely and kissing her inner thigh. He bit onto the soft skin until it ached, intent on making a mark.

Nails dug into her bottom, pushing his tongue into her slit as Althea fell on her back, a moan escaping her lips before she placed her hand over her mouth.

Taehyung stopped with a disappointed hum, pulling away completely making Althea whimper.

“It wasn’t that loud,” Althea whispered.

Taehyung chuckled breathlessly as he pushed her legs apart. “I caught it,” he said.

“You have the ears of a bloodhound, that’s why.” Althea smiled.

Taehyung hovered over her, kissing with an unexpected passionate sweetness. So warm and inviting. Fingers brushed against her hairline. Then he broke the kiss and placed his palm over her mouth, dark eyes fixed on hers.

He snuck her finger into her sodden core, immediately making her hips jerk. Taehyung didn’t wait. Sneaking a second finger and curling to her sensitive spot, pulsating until all Althea could do was hear the squelching of her cunt and the pleasure rolling to the blurring vision.

Choked moans shook through Taehyung’s palm. Arousal leaked to his wrists as he leaned in and kissed her sweat sheened forehead. Thumb brushed against her clit. Althea’s legs trembled as her release shivered across her body in a flare of heat and ecstasy. Her moans turned into a light scream grazing her throat.

Taehyung let out a shaky breath, feeling a gush on his palm of her release.

He took away his hand from Althea’s mouth, letting her release shaking moans as she shook through her orgasm.

Taehyung kept a slow pace to let her feel every minute of her bliss. He kissed her sweetly. “First time I did this to you on a soft bed.”

Althea laughed breathlessly, cupping his cheek. “You can keep doing it.”

Taehyung hummed. “I intend to.”

The council meeting with all the leftover nobles was about as pleasant as a gangrenous wound. Morning came and whoever survived Taehyung’s sword dragged their feet into the dark wood halls of the palace, the beautiful sunlight through the windows contrasting with their pallid faces.

Althea opted to wear something sweet, a light lilac of soft airy material with her hair partially down. She didn’t want to demure to them but perhaps a sight of friendly would help in easing their mind. She only had animosity towards her brother, not people who were willing to see a changed world.

Taehyung kept to his colours happily though but she welcomed it. At the very least, if anyone took advantage of her kindness, it would padded by the lines of soldiers in tight expressions and black armour.

Althea attempted a small smile as the nobles finally gathered. Most of them young and curious of what was about to happen but there were three older nobles with a clear disappointment on their faces. “Thank you for attending this council. I understand it’s been a trying few days but I do not mean for that to be the path of my reign.”

The nobles were still quiet, some of their eyes flickering to Taehyung and his soldiers.

“Please, you are allowed to speak freely.” Althea gestured to the Taehyung. “They are only here for the utmost of emergencies, not free speech. I understand Ambrose had been barring a lot of changes.”

One of the young nobles shifted. “The treasuries, your Majesty.” His voice was low and careful. “His—Ambrose, I mean, had been scrapping the coffers for monuments and making estates of his concubines.”

“We will cease the making of those monuments and direct the builders to repairing damages in the village houses,” Althea explained. “A lot of them looked destroyed. More than I’d ever seen it.”

The young treasurer nodded with a shift of shame. “He hiked the taxes and—” he cleared his throat. “—Ambrose threatened people of the village to either pay taxes or. . .or hand over the female members of the family. Some of them refused.”

Althea’s heart dropped. She had received glimpses of how bad things were but not quite to this extent. “So those ‘concubines’ are…”

“By force, Your Majesty, yes.” The treasurer kept his head hung.

Althea rested back on her chair. Ambrose used to be cruel to his female servants but to go this far. Ripping families apart for pleasure. “I will speak to the women and try to track their families or provide them jobs here in the palace to rebuild their lives. In the meantime, we need reparation on our trade relations to restore our treasury. I’ll sign what’s needed and talk to dignitaries if it’s dire.”

The trade masters nodded along with the treasurer.

“And the matter of taxes? Will it be lowered?” The treasurer asked.

“Back to the way it was. We need to get business running again and merchants travelling for them to get income,” Althea said.

“And what of your marital status, your Majesty?” One of the older nobles asked and it reverberated silence. “You did say we were free to speak. I’d like to know how you plan on securing alliances and having a king by your side to ensure a strong lineage. That is equally important to lower taxes and trade relations, surely.”

“That can be a matter of a later date,” Althea said, trying not to see Taehyung’s reaction. “These are your priorities to keep the people feeling comforted again.”

“And what of our comfort? You came in here to paint a shamed general’s sword with the blood of our colleagues.” The noble barely acknowledged Taehyung’s presence as he mentioned. “He had his hair cut, he was an enemy of the kingdom. You brought him here and rewarded him for the way he massacred thousands.”

“A massacre that was ordered by my father,” Althea said. “And approved by you from what I remember. You had signed an agreement without reading it.”

The noble pursed his lips together with a pathetic sense of pride. “I am a servant to a king. And I have been for longer than you decided to have dreams of becoming a ruler.”

“So you agree that following orders that you must do without any conscience,” Althea said. “Then how is that different from General Taehyung’s values?”

The noble had puffed himself up to say something but the words hadn’t quite formed.

“Because he is not a noble, is that it?” Althea asked. “He was from a lower family and he was easy to shame. While you continued to kiss the feet of my father and my brother. Even as I was exiled.”

“You were exiled for becoming a distraction. You were speaking against the king, it was treason.”

“And I refused your pathetic son,” Althea said and the silence turned leaden. Her eyes were harsh, diminishing any softness from her dress. “Master Kang, I haven’t forgotten you. Are you aware of this?”

Kang shifted, a stupid part of him wanted to keep looking her in the eye but Althea saw it flickering. Because he knew the story as closely as she did.

“For anyone who was confused about my exile, Master Kang’s son took me to a garden while we were discussing marriage.” Althea spoke loud enough for the council to hear.

“That is not relevant—”

“His son put his hand under my dress. . .and I cut it off with a dagger.” Althea kept her face neutral. “It wasn’t even difficult, his wrist was a pathetic spindly thing just like his father.”

Kang stood from his chair. “You will not humiliate me this way, you wench.” He pointed at her. “You brought your fate upon yourself. Hurting my son and then continuing to debase yourself with the general.” He spat. “We know what goes on behind closed doors with you two. You’re nothing but a whore.” He kept taking a step at each word and getting close.

Too close. Close enough that it was no longer in Althea’s control.

A scythe like blade glinting in silver came in front of Kang’s neck, pushing him back until he let out a choked breath. His breath fogged the perfectly polished edge.

“A few steps back, Master Kang, if you please.” Taehyung’s deep voice was calm and collected.

Kang let out a scoff but it was with a confidence that hung on a thread. “Is how you will govern us now?” he glared at Althea.

“Just people like you, Master Kang. Who think suffering is a necessary evil when you are not the one suffering it.” Althea shook her head. “Your son got to go back and live in his warm palace. While I froze in a forest, mourning my father and feeling violated.”

“My son lost his hand.”

“I lost everything.” Althea felt a fire of anger in her chest. “And I wanted to provide some kindness, bring you back to court and hopefully repair something. Unfortunately, it seems you insist on supporting Ambrose and his ways.”

Kang couldn’t reply to that. His cheeks more red than ever as the other court members watched him with embarrassment. He looked more like a toddler who created a tantrum for spilling his own milk than a noble who wanted some tainted justice for his stupid son.

Althea did offer kindness. She was trying to be a good queen.

Kang, at this moment, was an idiot who didn’t understand an opportunity when he saw one. “If you are going to punish anyone, it’s my son. I am speaking as a father above all else…and that may make me speak out of turn.”

Coward.

Althea kept her expression soft, looking at Taehyung with a reassuring nod. Taehyung moved the blade away and stepped back as Kang let out a deep shaking breath. “Very well. Bring your son during the evening.”

Kang bowed low. “Your Majesty.”

Kang and his son, Hyeon stayed in the same dungeon together, as a family. The women of the family were given reimbursements and Kang’s wife was free to remarry for new heirs if she wished.

A quick execution was in the plan for these two men but Taehyung was now a stationed general with his own resources. Which meant these nobles were his first official assignment ever since his dismissal.

And Taehyung savoured it beautifully.

Althea came to visit the dungeon while Taehyung was on his little trips. She heard whipping sounds and a screaming Hyeon, the same satisfying sound that he let out after realising he didn’t have his hand anymore. She remembered how confident he was, how much he felt he was owed to touch her. Now she could watch all that confidence melt in terrified piss and well-deserved bloodshed.

Taehyung looked over his shoulder when he saw Althea enter. His chest glistening with his sweat and the veins on his arms protruded from the force of his whip. “Your Majesty,” he said in the calm tone.

Hyeon let out a cry to Althea through his bound mouth while Kang cowered in the corner, staring into nothing.

“Your wife has denounced both of you from the family,” Althea said.

“That was quick.” Taehyung placed his whip back onto the steel stand while it created a track of blood. “What happened?”

“Apparently, Kang had forced his wife to marry him and Hyeon had his wife give up their first daughter.” Althea knew they weren’t pleasant people but the stories that emerged from the household itself only made this sorry sight all the more necessary. “They don’t want anything to do with them. Not even burial.”

“I’m almost done,” Taehyung said. “We can have the executions tomorrow morning.”

“One day…” Kang breathed out. “His thirst to kill will make you pay.”

Taehyung turned, giving Althea a view of the old man glaring at them with red eyes.

Althea returned the stare, unblinking. She gently walked towards Kang and crouched in front of him, watching him shift back with a raised chin. She smiled. “I will pay that price. Just as I have for everything else.” She stood back to her feet and faced Taehyung. “Have them executed this afternoon.” Her fingers wrapped around his wrist sweetly. “So there’s no commitments in the morning.”

Taehyung smirked and nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

Althea watched the execution from the balcony of her bed chambers, wearing a black dress with a beautiful transparent black robe embroidered in gold floral emblems. She kept her expression solemn as if she regretted the unfortunate decision. Even though the loss of these two men was no less inconvenient than getting rid of an abscess.

Taehyung stood at the execution altar, covering his face with a cloth to prevent any splatter as he brandished his sword in the purpled sunset light.

Kang and Hyeon were on their knees with their heads held low as all cowards did when they reached a certain point of their fate.

Taehyung stared up at Althea, awaiting her approval even though they had already discussed what to be done. It was that extra nudge of loyalty sent a thrill down Althea’s spine.

Althea nodded and Taehyung turned his focus back to the task at hand.

Raising his sword, Taehyung swung with precision and took off one head. Kang began to shiver as his son’s head rolled across the wood. He stepped to Kang’s side then.

The old noble began to speak again, foolishly trying to protect his own life. But any word that uttered was cut off with a splice. Father and son united at the edge of the execution block, without their bodies which had been softened and pleasured by greed and luxury.

Taehyung cleaned his sword calmly with a cloth before sheathing it. Dark eyes flickered back up to Althea, giving a respectful bow.

The people dispersed with an neutral understanding. They had no connections to these nobles and if anything, a thrum of relief fell through after how much Ambrose kept the nobles happy and fattened. This was a sign that nobles were not safe in maintaining corruption. Their new queen would protect them from such things not inflate it for self-gain. It was a victory and Althea accepted it like a forbidden sweet.

Her council was set and the kingdom was in her palm.

“I’ll have to find an alliance,” Althea said as she straddled Taehyung, their skin sheened prettily from the heat of the room and their antics. Her black robe thrown haphazardly on the edge of her bed. “As it stands, marriage is the strongest way to go.”

Taehyung hummed, keeping his hands trailed up the curve of her waist.

“Is that all?” Althea asked.

He chuckled. “We discussed that it would happen. A marriage between a queen and her military general causes conflict of interest.”

“On the other hand, if we’re married then we might seem more terrifying.” Althea pressed her palms against his heated chest, heartbeat gently thrumming on her skin.

“Are you trying to get me to convince you against it?” Taehyung asked.

Althea shrugged. “Perhaps. You’re very convincing usually.”

“Not with words,” he said.

Althea squinted her nose. “That I know.”

Taehyung lifted himself, chests pressed against one another in the quiet comforts of her chambers. The night was silent in this part of the palace save for the most distant of sounds from the active districts of the city. “Whatever you decide, I will follow. That was the agreement. All I wanted to be reinstated as a general, I don’t need anything more.”

Althea tilted her head. “Nothing more?” Her lips pushed out to a pout. “Not even this?”

Taehyung softened his expression, tracing a calloused fingers down her hairline, releasing some of the strands matted to her forehead. “Would your new husband be alright with that arrangement?”

Althea scoffed. “My father had consorts and Ambrose had slaves practically. I just want you. Is that bad?”

“I’m the last person to judge what’s good or bad, your Majesty.” Taehyung chuckled. “But I’m not opposing.” He pulled her as close as possible, completely pressed until there was no escape. “He can find a way to get over it.”

Althea grinned, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips. A subtle nudge of pain bloomed in her chest thinking about having to kiss another person, have them by her side instead of Taehyung. As much as people outside liked to pretend this was some dirty affair, Althea cherished these moments and Taehyung’s faith was the strongest thing she had ever fell back on.

Some king from another land wasn’t going to ruin this, even if he tried.

King Yuto resided from a faraway island kingdom named Saoshima. He was young, around Althea’s age. Also handsome with soft brown eyes and sharp features that mimicked warriors of myth. Yuto was one of the few kings who supported Althea’s rise to power since he detested the mistreatment of two Saoshima women who were taken in Ambrose’s so-called ‘harem’.

Upon Althea’s disbandment of the harem, those two Saoshima women were given positions in her court with the promise of returning home should they wish to rebuild. One of them left while the other offered to be one of Althea’s lady in waiting to which she agreed. This news especially moved Yuto to arrive days earlier than they had initially planned, perhaps concerned about Taehyung’s rigid security at the ports and borders.

On the day of the meeting, Althea wore an elaborate gown and thick robe of red and gold silk, embroidered with the respective colours to create textures that lit against the morning light. Her hair was tied up loosely, pinned by gold and ruby pins.

Yuto arrived in a beautiful robe of white and gold with emblems of white lilies as the mark of Saoshima. He smiled easily as his crown of gold florets shone like a halo of sunlight. His collection of soldiers in their brightly shining white gold armour was a stark contrast to Taehyung’s army but Yuto was hardly fazed by it.

Yuto stopped his soft gaze at Althea. “Your Majesty, it’s a pleasure to meet with you. I’m happy Dysminia is in much better hands.”

“I understand you weren’t fond of my brother,” Althea said.

“He slowed down trade, not a good sign for my kingdom. Not to mention the clear disregard of my people.” Yuto explained but a grin quickly formed on his lips. “But this shouldn’t be a time of dour topics. It’s a time to celebrate.”

Althea smiled, feeling the weight of Taehyung’s presence behind her. “I’m surprised you agreed to the arrangement.”

“My mother has been hounding me about marriage for years now. And I have deeply missed our silk and sugar trades.” His eyes seemed to shine in all the right places when he spoke. In a twisted way, Ambrose had the same effect on people until he lost his mind from drinking and drugging his intelligence. “So long as you are comfortable with this idea, I don’t see why we can’t proceed.”

Althea knew Taehyung could keep a strong face but something about the burning down her spine, she felt his gaze. They needed trade relations and he was right, marrying her military general was a bad move. Althea needed to be a separate figure to her military, a connection to something higher and elevated from the earthly events of war.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Althea smiled and nodded. “It’s settled then. Saoshima and Dysminia will be connected once more.”

Yuto smiled from ear to ear. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The events from signing the papers, getting dressed and arriving at the banquet to celebrate her marriage was a blur. Althea remembered herself sitting at the table, wearing her beautiful white and gold dress with her hair pinned up in little shapes of florets while Yuto enjoyed the dance performance with a wide grin. Despite being married for a few hours, Yuto comfortably placed his hand on hers whenever he got the chance.

Althea smiled politely back, knowing that he was potentially trying to make smoothing their marriage transition easier. Or he was making himself home too quickly for her liking, she wasn’t sure how to react. Instead she kept drinking her wine.

Her eyes went back to Taehyung who was standing at attention, using his training far too well. He wore a celebratory tunic, still in his usual black but it was embroidered beautifully in silver thread and had feathers at the collar to represent the wings of a raven.

“Do you want to dance?” Yuto asked.

Althea had to push herself back to reality when he stared at Yuto’s glazed eyes. He was already tipsy. She smiled quickly. “Yes, of course.”

Yuto practically pulled her to the dance floor in the fray of her nobles and royals, thrumming from their wine. Althea smiled and chuckled along with Yuto’s movements, even letting him touch her waist since Taehyung intended on maintaining his stoic face the whole ceremony.

Eventually Althea fell into the chaos of dance, switching partners and losing Yuto. When she moved to the edge of the crowd, trying to coax Taehyung into the mix, he was gone from his post.

Althea walked to the front table, taking a sip of her wine, wondering if he wandered outside or perhaps found some cheeky noblewoman who was curious to flirt with the general. She could go out to find him. She could and clutch to him at the end of the night instead of the inevitable duties she would have to perform. It was a momentary, she told herself. Only a few minutes.

Have three children and hope he never touches her again. She took another thick sip before a scream uttered from the crowd.

Althea turned to see the people scatter away like scared cockroaches. She saw a puddle of what she hoped was wine. . .but she’d seen enough fresh dead bodies to know it wasn’t. Thickly painting the floors as a body jerked over and over again. Yuto’s body, face crushed by the force of heavy punches.

Taehyung’s punches. No armour, just knuckles now dripping with red as it stained the white purity of Yuto’s clothes.

Yuto didn’t respond, his fingers unmoving, only shifted by Taehyung’s incessant assault.

Althea’s heart dropped, roughly placing her cup on the table before rushing to Taehyung. “Stop, stop.” She pulled him off, trying not to look for too long at Yuta’s face which was mostly the shape of Taehyung’s fist than his own shape. “Taehyung!” She yelled until her throat hurt. “That’s an order!”

Taehyung latched off with a trained precision as his body radiated with fire. Blood streamed down his jaw and neck, fist coated with Yuta’s blood, dripping off his fingers as he tried to relax them, trembling with fury.

Tears blurred her vision but she tried to blink them away. “Guards.” Althea called out, gesturing to Yuta’s body as they began to clean it up.

“You demon!” A Saoshima guard unsheathed his sword, marching to Taehyung but Taehyung’s army was faster as they closed in on the Saoshima soldiers, outnumbering them.

“Stand down! All of you!” Althea kept her voice harsh.

“You do not order us.”

“I am your closest in succession as it stands. Unless you want to deal with General Taehyung and his men yourself.” Althea spoke through gritted teeth.

The Saoshima guard gulped, eyes flickering to the floor with a tight jaw. He lowered his head, keeping the glare on his face.

“Taehyung, you’re dismissed. Get yourself cleaned up,” Althea ordered without looking him in the eye. “Now.”

Taehyung stayed silent, taking a deep breath before bowing and stepping out of the hall. Drips and footprints of red followed a trail behind him.

Althea let out a shaky breath as she gave herself to look down at Yuto’s body. Her shaking fingers desperately touched the back of his wrist. Perhaps it was only his face that needed repair. No pulse. No heartbeat. Tears fell down her cheeks but she let out a long, deep breath to keep calm. “Tell the morticians what you need for his funeral.” she asked in a low tone as the Saoshima guards shifted in discomfort.

“And the general?” The same Saoshima guard spat. “This could be an act of war.”

“Yuto is an only child with an ailing mother and a country that’s becoming poor from lack of trade.” Althea stared up at them with reddened eyes, sitting in a puddle of her late husband’s blood but her voice still stood strong. “A war will be on your head, not mine. Tread carefully.”

The Saoshima guard pursed his lips together.

“Take his body away.” Althea tried to stand back up. A lady in waiting rushed to her side but she raised a palm and got to her feet, the blood soaked in her dress now weighing her down. “I’ll deal with the general.”

Althea found Taehyung in the armoury as he was trying to clean off his hand. There was little light in the room with only the silver moonlight shining through. The smell of metal and blood wafted in the air as Taehyung’s form hunched over a bowl of water, the clear liquid progressively getting more opaque with red.

“Yuto was not an enemy.” Althea stomped closer to him. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“He knew about our affair and started bragging,” Taehyung said simply which was not surprising yet this felt different. A taste of his violence in a way that Althea felt was out of her control.

“So what?” she winced. “That’s no reason to kill him.”

“He was bragging about being with you. Being king of two kingdoms.” Taehyung threw the cloth onto the table next to him, staring at her. “He was voicing treason.”

“He’s a smile-happy fool who was drunk. You are only supposed to enact when I order you to,” Althea said. “That was the agreement. If people see you punching around anyone that says something stupid then they’ll think the kingdom is in anarchy.”

“My job is to keep you safe and that idiot was going to be your side as king.” Taehyung gestured to the door. “If he got the slightest taste of power, he’d become dangerous. At the very least he didn’t have enough soldiers to fight back.”

“But his people loved Yuto,” Althea said. “That was the point to find someone who was easy. Now we’re risking rebellion and war.”

“Saoshima runs on trade, you know that, it doesn’t have a military to save its life.” Taehyung shook his head.

“That’s not the point, you killed the man in anger. It’s cruel.”

Taehyung raised a brow. “I’m cruel now?”

“When you do things like this, yes it’s cruel.” Althea attempted to keep her voice steady even though his gaze looked like he was peeling her skin to show the truth. “Killing in cold blood.”

“I saw the way you were dancing with him.” Taehyung walked closer, the shadows of the room making his features harsh as he towered over her. “You’re saying you didn’t want me to be angry?”

Althea scoffed lightly. “You are not blaming me for your behaviour.”

“I do everything else under your orders, what’s different about this?” Taehyung muttered.

“I didn’t order it.”

“You didn’t want to go to bed with him.” He leaned in, nose just nudged against hers. “You didn’t even want to marry him. You wanted to check off a list.”

“It was a strong alliance,” Althea whispered.

“And now the kingdom is yours. No alliance required.” Taehyung’s eyes flickered down to her dress. “Did you mourn in front of everyone?”

Althea narrowed her gaze. “I didn’t want him to die. Especially not in that way, you could’ve make it quick.”

“That was a misstep.”

“A misstep?”

“Am I going to be punished or are you going to take Saoshima for yourself?” Taehyung asked with a touch of impatience.

Althea frowned. “I might just do both since you’re set on being unbearably brutish.”

“You enjoy nothing less, don’t deny it.”

Althea let out an irritated breath, turning on her heel to leave before Taehyung grabbed her from behind. She tried to pry free but he kept the grip tight, making her groan.

“I can feel when you’re disquiet,” Taehyung whispered in her ear. “And that fool’s charisma would’ve caused us a headache. Killing him was not the only choice, no, but it was the strongest.” He placed his palm over her stomach. “Did you want to carry his children?” He cooed, caressing it and ever so gently moving down to her core, swaying her away from anger. “Hm?”

Althea kept her lips pursed together, still trying to be frustrated. “No.”

“Louder?”

“No,” she said but it was shaky.

“The way he kept touching you, pushing against you, he had expectations.” Taehyung moved his hand up to her neck, stroking her jawline. “He wanted to put a child in you that night. Were you going to let it happen?”

“I’d make you watch,” Althea said to maintain some of her anger but it only made Taehyung chuckle.

“It could be comical to watch you be disappointed.” Taehyung began to untie her outer dress where all the blood dried at the hems.

“You didn’t have to make it so public,” Althea said as her breathing grew ragged from the ghost of his lips down the crook of her neck.

“I suppose that was my own little desire.” Taehyung pushed the sleeves down, letting it drop to the floor before Althea kicked it away. There was still splattering left on her inner dress but it wasn’t quite the weight of the former. “I need to have fun too.”

“I think you have plenty of fun.” Althea turned around but Taehyung kept her pressed close to him. “Tell me the truth.” She kept her gaze fixated on his.

Taehyung’s expression softened.

“Say it,” she said. “Was my monstrous general threatened?”

He smirked bitterly, grabbing her chin. “He’s the one lying in the throne room.”

“So it’s true.” Althea smiled. “It has little to do with protecting me.”

Taehyung kept his lips pursed. “It’s a part.”

“You didn’t want him to touch me because…” Althea leaned in, nudging her nose against his jaw. “Tell me.”

Taehyung took a breath to say something. She saw every conviction in him to maintain the playful attitude of this terrible man who only killed because he liked. Because he could control himself. He raised his chin, his expression growing serious which sent a wave satisfaction in Althea’s body. “I don’t want anyone to touch you like that.”

Althea grinned. “Was that so hard to say?”

Taehyung groaned under his breath, grabbing onto her and pressing her against a pillar. His breath hot against her face as he ripped the skirt of her inner dress.

Althea let out a light chuckle, untying his pants to pull out his member.

Taehyung grabbed onto her thighs, not waiting to slide himself into her.

Breath caught in Althea’s throat as he pushed all the way until she was full of him. She gripped onto his shirt, whimpering as Taehyung thrusted with little mercy. She cupped his cheek.

Taehyung kissed her bottom lip, licking across before becoming rough, impaling her. He kissed her jaw, biting the soft skin of her neck. “You’re mine.”

Althea moaned in response, gripping his hair tight which only made his biting harder.

Red bloomed on her skin. Taehyung hooked her legs over the curve of his elbows, pistoning into her until the sound of their skin slapping echoed across the dark, quiet room.

Althea could only imagine it reverberating down the hallway, the mix of grunting and desperate sex right after her husband was killed. This wasn’t the way she should’ve been seen. If a single disloyal servant came in here, her reputation amongst Saoshima would tarnish. She grabbed onto the pillar, back arching. Moans turned to pleasured cries as the warmth in her lower belly fired.

Taehyung pulled her close again, taking her into a kiss as his moans began to grow desperate, getting closer to his release.

Althea smiled through her kiss. “Come inside me,” she whispered.

“You sure?” Taehyung smirked.

Althea responded with a moan, nodding frantically. It only took a few seconds before she felt him pulse inside her, slamming into her as warmth filled her womb.

Taehyung rested her back onto the pillar as he filled her to the brim, moaning against her cheek.

Althea threw her head back, her entire body trembling and pulsing against him.

Taehyung pressed his forehead against hers. “Peace treaties, this time. No more fucking marriages.”

Althea laughed breathlessly. “I promise.”

Morning arrived with a lightly aired tension as the Saoshima soldiers and council members awaited for Althea’s announcement on what was to be done with Taehyung. The captain spoke for them again, his eyes still darkened and suspicious when he looked over at Taehyung.

Althea wore black to ensure that people knew she was in mourning while Taehyung did away with his armour.

“What is your decision, your Majesty?” The captain kept a level of respect towards Althea, despite looking like he wanted to kill Taehyung.

“General Taehyung will be suspended for his actions and kept in the tower until the year of mourning is over,” Althea said.

The captain didn’t look pleased. “Killing a king is cause for the death penalty. Only a year of imprisonment?”

Althea sighed. “As it stands, your military prowess isn’t strong enough to hold trade protection. And General Taehyung has the most experience in that area. I still need him to train any future generals.”

“We’ve done well for our trade protection,” the captain said.

“A few of your ships have been raided just this month.” Althea waved her hand. “Pirates find your ships easy to attack. You need stronger naval protection.”

The captain stayed silent. “And I can be assured that this pardoning of the general has nothing to do with any…personal feelings.”

Althea leaned forward. “Would you like me to make it personal?” she asked.

“I am only assessing.”

“Right,” she smiled as she rested back. “Then I suppose we can also assess the flower boats floating near Saoshima.”

The captain’s brows relaxed, eyes flickering around the room. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Althea waved her hand, beckoning one of the nobles to open a stack of papers. “We have reports of young girls and boys being forced into so-called flower boats so officials, including Saoshima military guards, are able to have services performed outside of jurisdiction.” She placed an unblinking gaze on the captain, watching sweat pearl on his temple. “I may be a new queen, captain but I do know what I’m doing. Care to explain?”

The captain blinked shakily. “Those cases do not hold in this territory.”

“Yes, but this also indicates that the people of Saoshima aren’t as trusting of their nobility and royalty as it may seem. You disguised forced labour and violence under a pretence of good business,” Althea explained.

“Even with all that, your Majesty.” His tone turned bitter. “Widows of our king will have no power over Saoshima. That is not how our succession works. It will go to the king’s nearest of kin and nothing else.”

Althea hummed. “Then it is truly a tragedy that you don’t have strong naval protection.”

Confusion for a moment. Then a darkened realisation waved over the captain’s face. “You’re lying.”

“It was either this or you embarrass yourself in a war you wouldn’t have won,” Althea said in a calm tone.

“You conniving bitch!” the captain raised his sword.

In a flurry of black, silver swords brandished in the daylight and private throne room splotched with blood. Taehyung’s own sword sliced through the captain’s neck and his head rolled in front of Althea onto the table.

The Saoshima officials trembled and yelped at the sudden violence.

“We serve the queen!” One of the officials cried out, bowing terribly and almost falling over. “We serve the queen, please!”

“Taehyung,” Althea called out.

Taehyung and his army paused immediately as the puddle of blood spread across the stone floor.

Althea put on a kind smile for the officials. “Don’t worry, gentlemen, you can safely return home with compensation.”

The same official smiled with shaking breath as he tried to pick up his robes so the blood wouldn’t stain the fabric. “You are most kind, your Majesty.” He bowed again. “Most kind.”

They were escorted out of the throne room in silence while the servants hurriedly tried to clean off what was left of Yuto’s chaperones. Althea dismissed the nobles, leaving only her and Taehyung in the room.

“All yours, your Majesty,” Taehyung cooed.

It was hers. Not a kingdom. An empire.

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