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#and the happy memories that came from that
prettyboykatsuki · 2 days
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BLOOD FEUDS, ANCIENT AND MODERN | RYOMEN SUKUNA.
✮ tags ; no curses au, blood incest, use of honorifics (oji-san) abuse (mostly verbal / emotional), classism, grooming / generally predatory behavior, large age gaps (20+ yrs), blood feuds, imbalanced power dynamics, white collar crime, afab + fem!niece!reader, uncle sukuna, the word rape used in text, non/dubcon (not noncon necessarily), fingering, petnames (little one, kid, little lamb), thigh-fucking, and other things, very horrible and gross sukuna behavior 18+
this is very dark and it deals BRIEFLY with sukuna being very predatory to reader when she's UNDERAGE / young. nothing explicit happens WHILE she is underage, but sukuna does leer at reader and it is mentioned. please proceed with caution !!!
PLEASE HEED THE TAGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED!!!
✮ wc ; 10.3k (???????????)
✮ a/n ; thank you vic @saintshigaraki for always indulging my nonsense and also tomfoolery. kissing you.
i'll be honest lads this one got away from me BAD jksdfhjs. i think its interesting at least.I KNOW THE TAGS ARE WICKED but i promise its like. kind of sexy at least.
also yes the title is from the rdr2 soundtrack shhh
✮ synopsis ; blood is thicker than water. resentment, you think, is thicker than both.
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Bastard.
An intimately familiar title, lacking tooth and effect. It's meaning eroded with time and usage - and a moniker you've wielded proudly for as long as you can remember. You don't recall much of your life before it became part of you.
The daughter born of wedlock. Bastard daughter. The only remaining stain to your family's reputation aside from your late father.
Your mother often tells you that you were her hardest child to birth. When you were littler it was a story relayed to you with affection, and but now it's with such bitter hatred you can feel it lodged in your throat.
The most important element is the predestination in it. You came into the world kicking and screaming, throat hoarse and violent. From birth, you knew you were half-forged with bad blood and came into the world trying to be absolved of it. It's shaped your life, your relationships, everything about you.
The other half of your DNA, the good half, is from your father. Before you were a bastard, you were your parents' only child. Your father was a good man. The best you know. An average, humble man. From a generation of other working class men with a tough job in construction. Your best memories come from when he was still alive.
A quiet life, untainted by the residual bitterness of your mothers heritage. You lived away from it, outside of it. The mother in your memories from back then seem like a dream now, some mirage from long ago - disinterested in anything but you and your father. Your mama and papa. Your father took good care of you both, and your mother loved him madly.
You lived as a normal family in a small apartment just outside of Gifu for the first seven years of your life. You attended a small local school and had friends with crooked teeth and messy hair.
Your childhood was mostly happy if you break it up into pieces like that. Blissfully uneventful.
There's a concise break of change of what your life was versus what became of it. Your fathers death the splinter in the wood, separating the two halves.
The worst of your childhood, of course, came in your fathers passing. Not just because of the loss, but what it made of your life. His funeral welcomed people of all walks of life with the most notable absence of your elusive mothers side of the family.
Another old memory you have with your mother is looking at her face during your fathers wake. The deep darkness of her eyes, sunken in and hollow. The first time you ever found her terrifying instead of comforting. While the world mourned your father, your mother—you think—mourned her life.
Forced into single motherhood with no prospects and no career, your mother decided it was best for the both of you to return home.
You think the worst of your life started there.
Your mother's side of the family has never welcomed you with open arms. You wouldn't come to know why until much later. You were a child then. There's no way you could've known about feuds that deep.
The only thing you knew was that you were hated vehemently, and nothing could change that.
Your grandmother's estate was always frightening to you in your childhood. You've yet to grow out of that feeling despite living there for the last fifteen years. It's remained unchanged since you moved in and the lights in the hall never seems bright enough. Jade green painted walls and white tile floors. Some rooms have classically Japanese flooring and heirloom paintings from the Heian era. Others modernized with sterile whites and grays and house plants that add no life to it at all. Stretched wide with tens of rooms, and easy for a child to get lost in.
A sinking abyss. A terrible place. A dark labyrinth. Anxiety inducing to even think about now. No place for a child your size or your age.
The best way to describe your childhood after your father died was cold. Removed from your life in the suburbs and placed among other rich kids, you became overtly self-conscious of the differences between you and them. Them being anyone who grew up wealthy and your other extended family. You were constantly reminded of your place as the bastard child. Later learning how your mother left her fiance many years ago for your father, your poor and worthless father.
(You theorize any warmth that your mother had for you was buried in your dead dads casket. Living there, among them, made sure she'd never find it again.)
Your mother is the most complicated part of your life. You don't have a time for when she gave up on raising you. There was a year when she tried, you think. For the most part, you lived in that house utterly alone. 
At first that abandonment was miserable (as it would be to any child, certainly) but a time came where you were glad you saw so little of her.
Your mother, who you had once loved and thought highly of, became a pitiful prey animal in the four walls of your grandmother's house. Small and anxious and utterly hateful. A bunny born with some cosmic knowledge and horrific understanding that its destiny is to become food for a wolf. Viciousness between her siblings, no doubt fostered by your grandparents and their establishment, tore apart the aspects of her your father mended and ruined her. You were too little to stop it. 
Blood feuds that ran bone-chillingly deep plagued most of the interactions with your extended family for as long as you've been a part of them. Your mother has exactly four siblings. Two sisters between her with her as the middle daughter, and two brothers. One of which is estranged so completely you don't know his name.
And the other being your Uncle Sukuna.
Your hatred for your aunts and their children came to you rather naturally. For every gala and ball and charity fund your worthless bloodline ever raised, came catty arguments and verbal abuse from the shallow mouths of your beloved cousins. You had nothing to prove to anyone in that house. You were detested since your birth and your grandparents made no small effort to show you through as much neglect and verbal lashing as they could get away with.
Rotten girl. Cursed daughter. You're the reason your mother is like this. You're the reason she is miserable. You should've been buried with your father.
Compared to the experience of your grandfather ripping into you at age ten for simply being alive, your cousin's commentary on you was remarkably uninteresting. You resented them for being nuisances, though, with the exception of maybe one who bucked it out of that place as soon as they could. Just like you planned too.
For a long time, Sukuna wasn't around enough to have a real presence in your consciousness. You tried not to think of your extended family more than you had too. You got used to not knowing about your relatives living there, but there was no one so elusive as him.
It was as if, increasingly, you heard whispers of his name at everything you were forced to attend.
The first time you ever meet your Uncle, you're freshly sixteen. It's the birthday party your mother throws for you each year in an effort to show how close the two of you are to the rest of your relatives.
The first time you see Sukuna in person, the only thing on your mind is how much he stands out from the rest of your relatives. He's a head taller than the tallest person there, and he's...bigger. He's not clean or neat, scruff lining his chin. Old, dark eyes. Visible tattoos that reek of disgraced son and hardly of prodigy.
At sixteen, you understood intimately what your family considered to be gold standard. Your uncle was antithetical to it. His very existence a paradox to the ideas you've had been hammered into you for years. Dyed hair, piercings, tattoos - his suit jacket undone to expose his chest. Lacking respect and formality and dignity. 
He was a lot like you. You got that impression, somehow.
When your eyes met with your uncles for the first time, you had your second fully formed thought about him.
Dangerous. Like an alarm. Like a ringing bell, throbbing through your skull and pulsing through your teeth. Some part of you just knew that he was a very dangerous man. Not just a wealthy one.
The first conversation you ever had with your uncle proves to be the most significant. Brief, yet - tonal in all ways. The gold standard for how he viewed you. How he would view you.
How he would treat you.
("So you're the new brat,"
Your uncle is an imposing man. You are sixteen and slightly tipsy, which is the least horrible thing you could be since your other cousin is coked out in the bathroom upstairs. You sway, staring at him. You think that's disrespectful.
He's the kind of man who might kill you for that. Might hit you. But you don't find it in yourself to challenge your defiance when you're far from sober and even father form happy. You lean your weight to one side and hum.
"New bastard," You correct him, and take another sip of the flute of champagne in your hand. "My worthless fathers, worthless daughter."
Sukuna pauses, his eyes widening before his lips break out into a grin. You wonder if it's because you're drunk. You think he's staring at you. Your eyes are too blurry to tell but you think he's gazing down the low dip of your top. At the curve of your chest. Leering at the body you've yet to even grow into.
"Tenacious," Your uncle says, and takes a long drink of his sake. You stare at the edge of his glass, carmine eyes gazing so deeply at you - you think you'll throw up. "You're your mothers daughter. Through and through.")
The night of your sixteenth birthday, your uncle announced he'd be opening a business venture in Tokyo. All this time he'd been doing work overseas, but seeing family helped finalized his decision. You remember the look on his face when he announced it. Remembered his eyes searching on you through the crowd as he held the mic up to his lips. How he named you the main reason, one conversation and he grew so fond of his little niece. That you were a clever girl, and that even though he hadn't known you long - he was sure you'd go so far.
Happy Birthday to you, little lamb.
You remember best the feeling afterwards. How the crowd went nearly silent. Hundreds of eyes darting your way in seas of strangers. All the attention people hadn’t paid suddenly mattering, all the congratulations. You remember how they crowded you and how your uncle came to your rescue with a cheeky grin and air of nonchalance.
You remember feeling sick. You remember the chill creeping up your spine, bile in your throat - all wet eyes and nausea.
Your uncle is a dangerous man. And you, the uninteresting bastard daughter, had caught his full attention.
The next four years of your life would pass so slowly, you often wondered during them, if you died that night and you'd live through these days as punishment for the crime of existing.
A little after your birthday, your uncle moved back to Japan permanently - in a residence not far from your grandmother's estate. He became a permanent fixture in your life. Many things came with that reality, none of them being especially pleasant.
You learn three things in the four years you spend with your uncle in your life.
The first is that your uncle is more powerful than you can really understand.
Through conversations at your kitchen table about his escapades abroad, you learn nothing of the work he actually does. Only what it involves, who it involves - foreign governments and people much more powerful than your family. Your uncle has ties to the Gojo family, and the Zenins'. Your time here teaches you that they make up two halves of private militarized arms and they work domestically and internationally. The only thing you need to know about them is they are filthy rich, richer than your own family and twice as corrupt.
And Sukuna works with them. Knows them rather intimately, from the pictures you've seen of Sukuna and Gojo Satoru drinking together - two prodigal sons with silver spoons and unsettling demeanors.
The second thing you learn is that your uncle's power and influence extend past all borders and include your grandparents and relatives. In the years he'd been away from home, he's garnered a formidable reputation. You never cared to notice it before, but it's all you can see now. Every arrogant, vapid relative you have the displeasure of calling family sees your uncle as some sort of king. The golden ticket to grandparents approval. A wishing well for all their hopes and dreams - so long as they appease him.
They fawn over him. Sukuna knows it. But they're all so busy trying to get on his good side they never catch his subtleties. Never seem to notice the cold sarcasm and biting edge to his questions. They pander and peacock to him constantly, but not one of them has sense enough to understand him a little deeper. Except you, incidentally. That's part of your problem
The third thing you learn about your uncle is that he takes pleasure in your cleverness no one in your life has since.... who knows? Since your father died, you think.
And you are clever. A head smarter than the rest of your family and a try-hard in all aspects. You graduated highschool top of your class and got scholarships into better schools. It was never about proving your worth of course, but about survival. You wanted away from this place, and the only way to cut your ties completely is to carve a life for yourself. Academia, education, using your name to make connections - you've been working silently on it since you were in middle school.
The only person who'd ever noticed your accomplishments was Sukuna. In between his work, he'd visit you in your room. You grew close in one sense of the word. It was a secret kept between you - but Sukuna often reminded you of it. That he saw you for who you were when no one else did. That his interest in you exceeds your own understanding, and it'd be in your best interest to remember that.
Some half-way between threats and affection, for four years - your uncle remained at your side. Uneasy as you were, he'd never try to advance on you while you were still in highschool. Some part of you knew he wasn't above it. Rather his interest hinged on getting to know you.
Your uncle is above all things manipulative.
Rather he preferred to keep you on your toes during the duration of your time together. To get close but not too close. To get to know each other openly. Your uncle made sure everyone in your family knew of his fondness for you. He'd keep you close to his side or follow you around, always in public places with a million eyes. He'd whisper to you, laughed and asked questions.
You hated being the center of attention, so Sukuna turned it on you any chance he got. It made it hard for you to refuse him, but mostly it made it hard to go under the radar without his protection. It made it hard for your relatives to insult and berate you.
You hated it. You hated accepting his kindness, because you know your uncle well enough to know that everything in the world came with a cost. And that this protection is little more than luxury, promised to you as long as you played nice.
And you always did play nice. But you were cautious. Never alone too long in the same room. Never somewhere too late. Never drunk, never high. Always within distance of a door. Sukuna was a dangerous man, and you may be a bastard but you're no fool.
It'd work for years. You evaded any real alone time with him for years. Years.
Until earlier this year where your mother had made arrangements for you to spend the summer with your dear old Uncle - in his villa, far from the safety of Japan's main island.
In the years of your uncle's favoritism towards you, no one has been more pleased than your mother. You've come to hate her for it. Your relationship hasn't been good in years and for her to suddenly attempt to be your mother again felt like a mockery.
(It mostly felt like a betrayal. You didn't think she could betray you a second time after she all but abandoned you the minute she stepped foot in that house.
Like something possessing the corpse of the mama in your dreams, your seething hatred towards her started then you think.)
You'd spent years indifferent to her, but it was this change that made you hate her down to your bones. You were furious about the decision. Furious she didn't bother asking, furious about all of it.
About everything.
An entire summer alone with the man you know to be most dangerous to you. You wouldn't put it past Sukuna, to plan this around you - but it didn't make it any less frustrating.
("You'll be going with your uncle," Your mother says, hardly listening to you. There's a baby on her hip, your half-brother and a vacant look in her eyes. You feel your jaw tighten. "We've already made plans. Your stepfather,"
"Your husband." You correct. Your mother gives you a tight-lipped smile.
"We are going on a family vacation. Your grandparents wouldn't tolerate you here alone , so you're going and that's final."
"I don't need to live with you," You seethe, fighting the urge to grab her and punch her. You've never been violent. Your mother makes you homicidal. "I can find my own fucking place, I'm twenty I don't need-"
She slams something. Your half-brother makes watery eyes. She stares at you distantly, righteously angry. Whether she's earned that anger or not, it makes your mood worse. .
"This is the least you could for me. For us." She hisses, turning around. You think of killing her. "For all the shit you put me through."
"What I put you through? Fuck you," You admit, your throat burning like a star falling through the atmosphere. Then, through a shaky breath"There's something off about him, mom. Do you understand what I'm fucking saying? Where you're sending me?
Three expressions pass over her face. The ghost of grief, some kind of solace and then more vacancy. She swallows, turns around to keep folding baby clothes. Her voice trembles. She knows she's sending you to your doom. Knows what waits for you as soon as you go.
"You're going. We need this." She says, and still doesn't turn to look at you. Her voice is so frigid it doesn't sound like hers anymore. "That's final."
You shouldn't be shocked by it anymore, but it doesn't make it easier.
You slam the door on your wait out. You hope their plane crashes on the way there.)
You tried your best to worm your way out of the situation before the semester closed out. But Sukuna, three steps ahead of you at all times, made sure that wasn't possible. Your uncle owned a villa out on an island, private - and the bags had already been packed. You'll like it there, he assured you so many times, it's comfortable. There's a good view and the kids in the place will remind you of the kids you grew up with.
(It's hard not to notice the ways in which Sukuna tempts you into wanting to go. Though there's nothing, truly, that could make the experience a pleasant one - it's posed to appeal to you. A place to remind you of your childhood. You try not to think about it.)
Despite your protests, despite your vehement frustration - there was nothing you could do but go. If you didn't go with Sukuna, it'd be enduring 3 months alone with your grandparents. You could try to crash with friends but the friends you've made so far wouldn't dream of being so polite and you dare not think of burdening your childhood friends with your family problems. They deal with enough as is.
The last option was running away. You're desperate enough to entertain it. You do, several times - considering what the worst outcome could be. All scenarios end with Sukuna coming to find you, because he's crazy and connected like that. Even if he's deliberate in not displaying those parts of himself, you know his apathy to be a facade.
You know him well. He knows you well. It feels like a competition to see who can outsmart the other that you were forced into with no say.
So, come the end of your third year of college - a driver picks you up right as your finals are finished to take you to the airport. A private jet, a nauseating display of wealth just for your uncle to torment you with you're sure.
On the plane ride to a small island on the coast of Japan, you think to yourself that all gods in the world must've abandoned you before you were ever born.
__
The first few weeks of your stay in the island of Nii-jima prove to be uneventful.
For a small island, it's still governed through something related to Tokyo. It's not the city or even the country, some quiet and relaxing in between. There are people here who've lived for generations and others who are only touring. Your uncle's villa though, is far from all life - and a few miles out from a beach.
You can hardly understand what a single man needs such a big house for. There's staff there too, though less than at your grandparents place which you're grateful for. You've met six of eight, two of them people who take care of the yards and garden.
Sato-san is the woman you see most often. The one cook Sukuna has and the woman who's been working longest. She is kindhearted and sturdy, often bringing her grandchildren with her. She's quiet and motherly - and so warm you're unsure of how to behave around her. Your uncle is seemingly fond of her which is saying a lot. She speaks highly of him. 
It's been so long since you've experienced something like maternal warmth, you're awkward around her. You try to not be too attached, try not to be fond of anything in this house because you know something horrible and dormant lies within it and you do not want to stay. Don't even want to entertain the idea of staying.
But Sato-san is good to you, with wrinkles and sunspots and a bright laugh. Her grandchildren are so well-behaved you wonder about how they were raised. A girl about seven and a boy about four, always quiet and inattentive. You've grown fond of them too, despite how bad you normally are with children. They're easy to be around.
You're frustrated mainly because you don't hate being here. The people are kind and welcoming and everyone locally is pleasant and good. You've been in the city too long, with insane people too long, and everything feels refreshing. The bus here is free and you can be at the beach whenever you like. You've made friends here - organically, with no strings attached. .
For the first time in your twenty years of living, you even have a guy you think is cute. It seems small, but back home everyone knows who you are. You've never had a relationship work out for one reason or another, but here? Here no one knows you, and the boy you meet at the beach with his friends is just a boy.
You don't want to like being here, but you do - and you don't want Sukuna to come back and he will. Nothing ever works out for you.
The worst of your luck you think builds on the edge of that thought.
You come home tonight doing a lot of things you would not normally. 
For one, you've gotten yourself drunk. The reason being the cute boy aforementioned invited you down to the beach with his friend. You justified going thinking if you were going to be miserable all summer - a single good memory wouldn't kill you.
You had fun. Your swimsuit is underneath your short skimpy clothes, and you sat in his lap and made-out with him all evening. Got to pretend you were a normal girl and you got to kiss for the first time. You still reek of alcohol and his cheap cologne. Blissfully uneventful. 
When you stumble into the foyer of the house with blurry vision and hear the T.V. playing, you know it instinctively that peace is going to be short-lived. You know that your uncle is home, and that he was waiting for you.
All the hairs on your neck raise. A shift in the atmosphere makes it hard to think clearly. Your lungs barely get enough oxygen in them to keep you upright. You think of leaving. You think of running up marble stairs to your room in hopes he won't catch you.
"Brat," Is yelled from the living room. Right, as if you'd ever get so lucky. You jump in your skin. "You home?"
Your stomach churns. You feel sick.
"Come to the living room."
You go obediently when Sukuna calls you, trying not to stumble over your two feet.You don’t think there’s more options than fearful compliance. 
Your uncle is watching Scarface on the big flatscreen on the TV. The subtitles are on in Japanese though you don't think he needs them. He only barely turns his head to look at you, his interest piqued when he sees what you're wearing.
You feel sixteen again, self-conscious of your body and womanhood. He hides it even less than he did the first time - the leering. He notices your skimpy shorts and top, the bottom of your bikini. And he grins, and stares but doesn't say anything.
"Oh?" He says, calm and casual, glancing back at the T.V. "Finally went and had some fun did you? Thought all that studying turned you into a bookish little shut-in permanently."
You don't say anything, arm clutching your other self-consciously.
"Did you need something?"
He snickers, low and predatory. "Come on. You're here to spend time with me so let's spend time together."
You don’t bother asking where he’s been for the last few weeks.  Your gut churns, feet heavy as they drag you to the far end of the couch. Sukuna stares as you sit hesitantly. You have no doubt he's going to make you move, but he's kind enough to leave you alone for now.
"Have fun on your..." He gives you another knowing look then laughs. "Outing?"
You aren't sure how to respond. "Just drank with some friends."
"Friends," He mimics, feeling the words out in his mouth. "The kind of friends that smudge the lipstick off your mouth, huh brat?"
You flush suddenly, embarrassed - and Sukuna barks a laugh. You don't know what he's expecting you to say there so you opt for nothing.
"Sorry," Is the only thing you can manage. Placating. He lets out a puff of air through his nose and relaxes further. There's an air to him, of nonchalance, that unsettles you more than if he was angry or unpleasant. Your throat bobs.
"You're a big girl now," He comments - sleazy and indignant. His indecency towards you, about you glints like a star. A sharp canine and piercing red eyes examine you from his peripherals. "Now that you're showing off it's only natural boys flock to you, hm?"
You can't explain the way this comment makes you feel. So much said with so little. The gap between is and has always been miles wide except sometimes it's not. Your uncle is unusual. Cold-blooded, manipulative, ruthless. There's no warmth in him in a comfortable, loving way. 
There's even less of a normal relationship between you.
But you both exist in this space with... similar awareness. Of the world. Of yourselves. There's a conscious intelligence to him that's reflected in you - that you are both fractured parts of your grandparents bloodline in two separate bodies. That self-awareness affords him a presence. In your mind. In your fear.
You are undoubtedly related. Sukuna revels in that.
It’s rare to see that kind of awareness in your family. You’ve never felt threatened by people dumber than you, even if they had more power or money. Vapid and shallow and useless - there’d never been anything that could win you on. It might sound cocky, but it’s true. It’s been true. 
It’s why Sukuna frightens you. He has everything, but above all - he’s smart. And hard for you to read. 
You swallow, shakily - your eyes looking down at your hands. In a profoundly long beat of silence, the movie plays. A fair bit of gunshots echo through the loud speaker and they startle you.
"You scared? Come sit closer, then." He tells you, less than asks you.
You stand and sit next to him, still a distance away. Sukuna remains unmoving. You don't know what to do with yourself.The silence seems to stretch for miles and minutes. Sukuna just watches the T.V. and stares at his phone - occasionally answering messages. You stay like that for a long time. 
"Need a smoke," He says, and it's not really directed at you. "Maybe later. Wouldn't wanna make you sick."
"People smoke around me all the time."
"Do you smoke?"
You shake your head, too tipsy to lie. He laughs at that. "Not even weed?"
You don't bother mentioning legality, you both know it doesn't matter between your lineage.
"Don't like the taste."
"How interesting. What a straight-edge kid. Most I've seen you get is drunk and this is the drunkest I've ever seen you. Still sober enough to talk clearly though."
"I just drink socially,"
"Ohh," He says, and then grins a little sharper. "A little shot of courage to fuck that little college boy then?"
This makes you jolt. "We didn't fuck—"
"No?" He looks genuinely surprised at this, though it's mild. "Poor kid must've wanted too if you came around him wearing that. Unless he came in his pants soon as you sat on him. Boys that age do stuff like that,"
The comment about his age reminds you of how old your uncle really is, and something in your chest flares hot.
"It wasn't that either—I've never-"
He cuts you off. "You're a virgin?"
You flush, stopping yourself from answering and he laughs.
"Ohhh, that's good. Very good," He grins, so genuinely pleased it makes you shiver. "I like virgins. Easy to please."
"That's—It wasn't for you."
For the first time in your relationship, Sukuna bridges the gap between you. He sits up and forward, his hand finding the bare skin of your knee. He rests it there, his thumb circling the flesh.
"Don't touch me," You hiss. Sukuna tightens his grip, but not threateningly. He turns to look at you that time, and you can't help but look back.
There's something in his degeneracy that horrifies you. It's fondness, you think. Genuine fondness.
"You sure?" He licks his teeth in a way that reminds you of a wolf. But not one that's starving. There's no desperation in his actions, but a self-assurance. Wolves don't often survive alone, but Sukuna has. And he hungers with the confidence of a predator who has killed all that stand before him. That's never been told no to what he wants to eat.
Your heart stops. Your voice a low whisper. "Stop,"
"You say that but you came in the house looking all desperate for sex and approval. You always look like that. Have for a little longer than what's normal for a girl your age,"
"I don't look like that!"
"You would've fucked that little college twerp if you stayed wouldn't you? Nothing wrong with honesty, brat."
Before you have a chance to understand what goes on around you, Sukuna changes position. You've never gotten a chance to feel and experience how strong he is - not like the way he's manhandling you now. You gasp at the arm around your waist and back. He pins you to the couch in a swift motion, not sure how he's done it, the alcohol making you dizzy.
Sukuna has never crossed the boundary with you like this before. Your heart is thumping loud, beating against your ribs. The source of it eludes you. If it's fear or discomfort or some other thing entirely causing such noice. 
There's a certain blase in his attitude that makes you forget momentarily about the taboo and gives way just to the tension between you. You feel it for the first time with his body pressed against you, all hot and heavy. He smells of cologne, but it lacks the acidity cheap ones tend to have. There’s strong hints of cigarettes and aftershave accompanying it. Appearance wise, he has lines in his face like a man in his forties. 
You don't know what's wrong with you. With a relationship so fucked up from the start, you thought crossing this line would feel different. You think you want to throw up, but you're completely calm. 
You want to be disgusted. You want to thrash and kick and scream and fight. You squirm away from him, the threads of what's left of your moral conscience urging you to do so. Like a last ditch effort to keep you sane. 
But there's just. Something. Something so inevitable about it that your heart doesn't beat at all. The panic itself feels hollow in nature. You are a rotted log and Sukuna has ripped the soft wood out of you with relative ease. But you’ve been that way for a long time, and nothing hurts. Not really.  
It's relieving in the worst way. 
"Get away from me,” You whisper again with noticeably less fight. Sukuna looks at you bright-eyed.
"You're a good kid," He says. The genuine praise knocks the air out of your lungs. That disgusts you more than anything else happening between you so far. "Interesting. A lot brighter than the other kids in our family."
Our family. You wince. .
"Stop, this is—" You don't know what word to use. He's your uncle and you're his niece and he's been gazing at you like this for god knows how fucking long. "Stop."
"You've got something going on behind your eyes at least, even if you're still just a wet-nosed and angry little housecat," He says, staring down at you. He's so imposing. His facial hair and his various tattoos. Everything about him, down to his bones. "But I can't tear my eyes away from you at the same time. You know that?."
You do know that. You cast your gaze away.
"I applaud how cautious you've been. But it didn't make a difference in the end. You know that too, right?"
You don't say anything.
"Clever little lamb you are, indeed. I like that about you." He hums, leaning down closer to you. His face is inches from yours. "You should be smart enough to know how this ends. But you know, you've been so entertaining to me this whole time I feel like I should at least be a little nice. So I'll offer you something. A deal of sorts, we can even write it on paper."
This catches your interest and he knows it does. He knows. You’re cut from the same cloth. And this place has made you lose your character, just like it always does. So if it means your survival and sanity or your morals, one comes before the other.
He grins at you.
"Come stay with me. Here in Nii-jima and back at my estate at home. I'll take care of your expenses and whatever else. I have better connections than the old hag," He says, leaning down even closer to you. You can smell him. He's intoxicating "You can be away from everything. I'll even let you have boyfriends and girlfriends over. You can throw sleepovers. I don't care. You can do whatever you want."
"What's in it for you?"
You can feel his knee press up against your cunt through your shorts and you gasp, hand going up to his shoulder. "This. Been thinking about this tight little cunt for a while now. You'd have to be at my beck and call. We'd be the closest uncle and niece in all of Japan," He snickers.
You wince at the reminder. You hate yourself for considering it. "Why me? There are plenty of women who are dying to fuck you."
He scoffs a little. 
"Once we get you a little farther from the trenches kid, you might start to understand me. Wealth, fortune, fame - all of it's fucking boring. I came back to Japan prepared to leave again but you made me stay. Not much more to it than that."
"You're fucking your blood-niece out of curiosity? Your sister's daughter?"
"My sister never did anything good with her life except marrying your father and making you." Sukuna says, and laughs lightly. You hate how validated it makes you feel. Your skin crawls. "I'll have to thank her for it. She'll be pleased.
You make a face at him, uncertainty. Apprehension. Fear. Frustration. Everything you’ve been compartmentalizing comes bubbling to the surface and making your head feel weighted with lead. You want to kill everyone and everything including him. You want to run away from this place. You want to go home, though you don’t know where that would be anymore. They demolished your old apartment years ago. 
You think spending a few years getting fucked and used might be less miserable than the suffocation of living with your mother and your baby brother and your grandparents. How much abuse you’ve endured already vs. what awaits you when their true heir starts to walk and talk horrifies you. 
You look at him. 
“You’re horrible.” 
“Tell me something new.” 
“I hate you. I don’t…want this. Any of this. I want to go home.” 
You’re just venting. Really. You’ve made the choice already. 
“Has there ever been a time where it’s been about what you want? I doubt it. But if you stay with me, appease my wishes for a while, well,” He laughs confidently. “You’ll get something, at least. Better than what you have.” 
“The contract. Are you serious about that?” 
He laughs at you. “Sure. If it makes you feel better, you can draft it and I’ll just have my lawyer sign. Bring your defenses. Whatever. Don’t really care as long as I get what I want.” 
“And that’s me?” 
“Seems like it,” 
You purse your lips. It seems like a rash decision to make in the moment, but truthfully your heads never felt so clear. Even with the alcohol. 
“...Fine.” 
Sukuna hums when you agree. It feels anti-climatic somehow. Not that he’s not expecting your yes but that you’ve come to accept it so easily. It’s not like this takes away from the coercion, from the awful feeling of being violated. Sukuna was going to rape you whether you liked it or not. This way, at least, you get something out of it. This way it’s something you choose. Something tangible results from your inevitable doom - the fate your mother damned you to. 
It affords you some plausible deniability too. In truth, you’re afraid for yourself. You’re afraid of what will happen when he finally does cross the line completely. You’re afraid you’re going to accept it, that it’s going to feel pleasurable, that years of repressing yourself will come back to make sure you never return to normalcy. 
What will become of you when Sukuna has his way with you? Will you become a more apathetic version of yourself? Is it possible? Will you sober and feel like scrubbing your skin clean in the shower? 
The worst outcome, you think, is nothing so horrible happening. The worst outcome is knowing you’ve fallen far enough for none of it matters at all. 
Sukuna grins down at you. “What a well-behaved niece I have. Good girl. You’ll do well living with me.” 
You make a displeased face at him, but your breath catches in your lungs soon after. Your uncle leans in to kiss you and you close your eyes trying to get away from it. But it’s true that your body has been burning up from the inside since you came back home - a dull throbbing between your legs turning you all kinds of stupid. 
When Sukuna kisses you - your first thought is that he’s unexpectedly gentle. 
You didn’t think he’d care about kissing to begin with. In your head you thought he’d tug off your shorts brutishly and fuck you without any prep. You were readying yourself for tears and pain, for screaming and crying - the sharp sobs of your own voice piercing your ears. 
A gentle press of lips startles you from your drunk haze. You can feel the scruff of Sukuna’s face on your own, your arms wrapping around his neck instinctively. The taste of cigarettes and something else mildly smokey fill your mouth and make you dizzy. Sukuna tastes like kissing a man - or what you might’ve imagined that to be like. Not a boy, but a man. You feel his strength, your hands splaying at the base of his neck and feeling the faded undercut of his neck, the texture of his dyed hair. His weight shadows you, his strength making you feel fluttery. 
He doesn’t tease you all during the kiss like you’re expecting. Nothing goes the way you expect. He kisses you in slow, short pecks and escalates to his tongue dipping against your lips - a little added element to his deep kisses. He kisses like he’s been doing it for longer than you have, with experience and finesse. You’re all but too conscious of everything little thing. About the sounds you make, about knowing when to breathe, about trying not to get wrapped up in the pleasant euphoria. 
All you can think about is how good he is at it. Effortlessly good. You think part of you latches onto it to avoid thinking about what’s happening. Denial feels pleasurable at least. 
You kiss like that for so long, your lips have swollen - sticky with spit and saliva. Sukuna has a self-satisfied smirk on his face when he pulls away from you, laughing at the flush in your expression. 
You hit him lightly, looking away from his face. 
“It’s a wonder you’ve kept your virginity,” He says, chuckling. “A kiss and a dirty old man like me could’ve taken it from you.” 
“Shut up,” Your reply is weak. He laughs against your mouth, and you can’t get over the intimacy of it. You hope you’re deluding yourself but then he kisses the corner of your mouth. Hot, warm air tickles against your jaw and neck when he presses his lips there too and suddenly it occurs to you how real it is. 
You don’t think your uncle is capable of warmth or love or anything that doesn’t come from coercion. But fondness. Maybe fondness. 
He spends more time doing that than what’s comfortable. Relishes the feeling of you in his arms, his bulge grinding against your clothed cunt but not forcefully. Just with enough pressure to make you gasp once in a while when you don’t have a mind to fight it. 
“I won’t take your virginity tonight,” He says declaratively. It surprises you. “You’ve got three months with me. It’d be boring. I’ll give you something else.” He looks at you then, then grins impishly. “What do you want?” 
Your eyes widen, suddenly unsure of yourself. You push away, brought back to reality by the questions. 
“How would I know?” 
He blinks at you. “I know you said you were a virgin, but did you really mean in everything?” 
You pout at him all of a sudden. “So what. I didn’t have that kind of time.” 
Sukuna barks a laugh. 
“Huh. I thought you were a goody two-shoes out of necessity but you really don’t do a damn thing in that house. Not even a boyfriend to do hand stuff with?” 
“Ugh. No, alright? I don’t have time for that kind of thing like I just said.” 
He laughs a little breathless, sitting up for a minute. You’re wondering what it means for you. Sukuna pulls you up along with him. He sits down again with his legs spread before looking at you. He pulls you into his lap with relative ease, until you’re half-way pressed into him with your legs over his thighs. You stare at him, feeling more exposed in this position. You get a closer view of his neck tattoo, realizing how far down his back it must go. You go to ask him what he’s doing - but he’s undressing you before you can. 
Confident, large hands trapeze down your back as he finds the end of your overwear and pulls it off - leaving you in the microkini you wore to the beach. It barely covers your nipples. You made the choice to wear it, yet seeing Sukuna examine it so closely leaves you wallowing and regretful. Still, he’s silent as he does something similar with your jean-shorts. A hand lifting your legs up enough to roll the cheap, denim shorts and discard them right on the marble floors. 
You’re still half-way over his lap - sitting on his thighs but you’re naked now.
You feel yourself growing self-conscious. Never mind that it’s the first time anyone’s seen you this naked, who exactly you’re showing it to makes you want to throw up. He stares for so long you wonder what he’s thinking, a lazy grin splitting his face. A hand nudges your thighs apart, moving your leg to give Sukuna more access to you. With an arm around your waist, his hand cups your cunt, rubbing it softly. You shift nervously. His thumb moves then, rests at the hood of your clit, pulling up to look closer at it. You hold back any noise as he examines you, bent pointer of the opposite hand brushing over the hair on your skin with a laugh. 
“Unexpectedly, it’s pretty,” He says and your eyes shoot wide open. “Good job brat.” 
“What are you,” You pant, your breath hitching as you close your eyes.”staring so much for it?” 
“It’s mine to stare at.”
You don’t think of your uncle as particularly possessive. It’s more like he believes in that so much, so unshakingly nothing else could be true. You wonder if there’s more to it. He didn’t seem angry even after you told him about seeing a boy. 
But comparing the two, Sukuna outclasses him in all ways that it should matter. He must be confident about that. 
He spreads your thighs a little further. You’re half tucked into his side now - an arm around the back of his neck and shoulders. Sukuna ducks down a little, nudging his nose against your neck and scraping his teeth lightly against your throat. He doesn’t do much other than… touch you. Not directly. His other hand, the one not secured around your waist, rubs at your pussy but not in an attempt to pleasure you. It’s exploratory and intimate. He’s just touching you in a way that’s making you restless. And the angle he’s bent down, the proximity gives you a better view of him. From the side where you sit in his lap, you can see the tattoo again. 
You shudder then, pussy suddenly clenching in a way that leaves you ashamed. Your uncle notices, though he doesn’t look up. 
“Thought of something, brat?” 
“No.” You deny, vehemently. He spanks your pussy but not hard. You jolt in reply, a shock traveling up your spine. 
“C’mon now,” He hums, predatory. “Don’t lie. That’s not fun.” 
“Y-your tattoo,” You say, suddenly feeling the influence of alcohol in a way you hadn’t all evening. “It’s…big.”
“Into bad boys or something, kid?” 
You frown. “You look like a yakuza.” 
This makes him laugh, more genuinely than you’ve ever seen him laugh. “Getting warmer, I guess.” 
You don’t say anything to that. Instead spurred by the sudden confidence. “Why aren’t you…touching me?” 
He looks at you surprised then tilts his head. “Is that what you want? 
“I don’t want any of this but it,” You squirm again. “Feels weird.”
“Sounds like you want something, at least. Go on, tell your oji-san what you want.” 
You scrunch your nose up at him, a familiar feeling of disgusting flitting through you. It fades as quickly as it comes.
“I’ve never put a-anything inside,” You admit, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 
“That so,” He hums. His middle finger slides down the wet seam of your cunt as you tell him this. You nod but you don’t think he’s really listening. His hand is warm, and big - and his fingers are thicker than yours. One of yours may as well make two of his, no end to how imposing he is. You don’t protest as he starts to touch you. You simply take a deep breath, holding onto him a little tighter. 
With your head turned towards him, Sukuna leans in again to kiss you. It’s deep from the beginning this time, and a little rougher. He bites lightly on your lower lips as his middle finger dips down towards your sex. Your insides are throbbing, hot and wet as you feel some friction. It’s the first time anyone else has ever held you in your life, every touched you directly like this. Against your will, your body is sensitive to the stimulus. Everywhere he touches you goes alight, and the kiss makes your tummy flutter. A tender feeling of want spreads you open, tears you apart right in front of him. 
With parted lips and a heavy head, you kiss him as his middle finger dips down low enough to penetrate you. A soft gasp pulls from your throat. 
It doesn’t feel unpleasant.
“I thought it was going to hurt more.” You admit, feeling him inside of you. It’s a new sensation but it’s not bad. 
“It shouldn’t hurt if you’re aroused enough. And wet enough. You seem to be both.” 
You frown at him, face pinching. It’s washed away quickly by the sensation of him pushing deeper. It’s hard to describe it as anything other than feeling something inside of you. Deep in a place you didn’t think it could go. You shake a little, trying to get adjusted. Sukuna does it carefully, slowly - thrusting in even strokes and keeping you focused on kissing so you’re not too conscious of it. 
He’s not thoughtful, not really - but you can tell that he’s going slower for your sake and that makes your heart stammer uncomfortably. The last word you’d ever use for him is kind but he’s not being horrible and it’s unsettling you. 
Once one finger goes in and out smoothly, your uncle starts to add another. You feel it that time, the stretch of it - gasping hard at the sudden sensation. Your breath catches in your lungs, hand clutching at his shoulder for purchase. He pulls away from your mouth, his breath near your ear. 
“Easy, little one. Give it a minute.” 
“It feels different. It’s,” You can’t form the words as two fingers penetrate you in full, slowly being eased inside of you until Sukuna is knuckle deep. Your breath hitches. “Not like it hurts.” 
“It’ll feel good in a second.” He says assuredly, voice smooth and raspy against your ear. You feel combative at his confidence, but then a minute passes of him rubbing along your insides and something strikes against you like lightning. You pause, blinking confused as Sukuna laughs. “There it is,” 
“There what is?” 
“C’mon kid, I know you’re too busy with school but you don’t know something so basic about your own body?” 
“What is it, oh.” 
His other hand toys with your clit, rubbing it in slow circular motions as he gauges your reaction to the touch. You jolt from the sudden pleasure, getting used to it slowly. You didn’t realize how badly it was throbbing to be touched until he does it in full. Your mouth dries up immediately. Little shocks of electricity spark up through you as his hands go full in on your body. The combined pleasure starts to uptick, something building slowly but surely. It goes from not feeling like much to feeling like something. Feeling physical. 
Your mouth drops open in sudden shock, eyes lidded as you moan unabashedly - unable to keep the sound at bay. You own a vibrator, use to cum quick and hard just to curb the feeling. You’ve had orgasms on your own but nothing has ever felt like this before. It’s undeniably satiating, mimics the feeling of eating something and nearly making yourself sick on it. You go slack-jawed, your nerves on fire. 
Two fingers curled against your silken walls and another two toying at the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs leaves little room in your brain to think. The only thing your body seems to remember is how to moan and whine - make these pathetic little noises you’ve never heard in your life. You didn’t even know you could make. Oddly enough, Sukuna is quiet through it. He makes grunts and little affirmatives but he’s mostly silent. You mostly hear the sound of your own voice. 
The sound of your own wetness. You can feel the sticky sensation of your arousal but you can hear it even better. It’s lewd to listen too, wet smacks mixing with the pathetic bleats of your voice make you feel hot all over. Skin prickling with heat and sensation. 
“I knew you were sensitive but haah. If I would’ve fucked you today, you would have cried.” 
The thought drifts idly by about his cock and your whole lower half reacts to it by going weak. It aches just thinking about anything bigger or longer entering you than his fingers. 
“Figure an insolent little kid like you isn’t much of a crybaby. I’m sure I can make you one.” 
You don’t even think about asking what he means. 
“Feels,” You make a gasping noise, body suddenly going tense. “Hngh, fuck. Feels so good, holy fuck.” 
He groans a little. “I’m being too nice to you. I really should be balls deep in your cunt already and I’m not. You gonna cum for me, huh brat?” 
You nod your head dumbly, unable to retort. To think of anything but the sensation washing over you.”Go on. Do it. Cum for your perverted oji-san.”  
Something about the depravity of it sets your mind numb. Your body goes tight, every nerve firing off at once as you grip onto his shoulder and let the feeling of euphoria wash over you. Your whole body is so stimulated it’s numbing. The feeling of pleasure crashes into you, leaves your spine arching - mouth dropped open and nearly screaming. Your sanity melts, fades off completely and your brain feels like it’s gone empty. You close your eyes so hard little splashes of white show up in your vision, like you’re seeing T.V. static. 
You think you scream. You don’t know. You just know that you’re cumming, hard, just from his hands and you’re terrified of what else he’s good at. You don’t think it boils down to sensitivity as the waves of your first orgasm ripple through your body. 
You lay in his arms, sweaty and limp. Your vision is blurry with tears as you open them to look at him. Sukuna is rubbing your side, taking his fingers into his mouth. You look at him surprised as he does. He grins. 
“Tastes good, kid.”
You flush. “Shut up.” 
“Don’t think I’m done with you quite yet.”
Sukuna guides your hand to his pants, over his bulge. You gasp a little at it. His size through clothes is astounding to you. 
“I’m not so generous to leave with nothing, you know.” He pats your thigh, moving you from his lap. “I’ve got a better idea than trying to teach you anything today, so try to hold still.” 
You don’t know what he’s talking about until he guides you on the floor. You’re confused until you feel him position you  - facing towards the couch with your knees spread on the floor. In doggy, you realize a little too late, your upper-half supported by the couch cushion. You feel more confused than you felt a moment ago. 
Sukuna positions himself behind you. You can’t see him, but you can hear the soft rustle of his clothes moving as he stands on his knees behind you. More than that, you can feel his cock resting on your bare ass. You gasp, feeling the weight and size slide against your curves. Sukuna does a breathy little laugh at your reaction. He’s huge. 
“Don’t cry kid. I told you I wasn’t gonna put it in tonight and I meant that,” He hums. His hands come to your hips, all of a sudden pushing them together. “Push your thighs together as tight as you can.” 
You listen to him. You can do it with some effort despite how weak your body feels. You lean forward on the couch for support, bringing your knees together and pressing your thighs. You don’t understand what it’s for until something hard pressing along your spine moves down the curve of your ass. You gasp aloud as his thick cock pushes between your thighs, tip catching against your swollen clit. Your whole body is covered in goosebumps. Sukuna moans low in his throat, resting his head on your shoulder. 
“Fuck, that’s it.” He hums, sounding pleased. “Keep them tight for me, alright girl? Try to at least.” 
Sukuna is wordless as he grips your hips, your flesh dimpling under his bruising grip. You're silent, your voice threatening to spill again as you try your best to listen to him. You keep yourself tight and firm, your hands gripping the couch cushions as Sukuna pushes his cock between the fat of your thighs and starts a pace.
The angle makes you gasp, body feeling weak at the way it touches your clit with each bump. Sukuna doesn’t hold back at all. You’re not being penetrated but the weight behind each of his thrusts makes you feel like you’re being fucked. The bruising sensation of skin against skin - the hard muscles of his own legs smacking against the softness of your thighs. 
Most embarrassing is the way the position makes you conscious of your uncle's cock. You knew he was huge before, but the way he’s thrusting. Where it reaches when he does thrust makes your throat feel nearly tight. You can’t stop thinking about the fact it’ll be inside you. You can’t imagine taking it in your hands - the girth and length of it fucking impossible. And he wants to fuck you with it? Take your virginity? 
He’ll stretch you so open if he does. You can barely think of it fitting in you. When you do, your whole body shudders in a horrible and pathetic way - a new wave of arousal striking a strange chord. As he bumps and ruts against your clit and your mind fills with such lewd images, a new wave of lust starts to pour through you. 
It’s unhelped by the feeling of Sukuna’s cock - getting so close. The throbbing with each thrust and the low, throaty groans he keeps vocalizing against your ear. All of it proves to be too much for you. It shocks you when you feel yourself grow hot all over again. Not even being touched directly and so soon after your first - a mere few minutes. 
And you find yourself with all your muscles tight, your hand reaching back for Sukuna as you plant your face against the cushions and let him fuck hard between your thighs. You feel incoherent, stupid and so fucking horny. You’ve never experienced it. You can’t think of what to moan, so you choose his name. 
This makes him laugh as he bends over you, his teeth biting your shoulder blades. 
“Gonna cum again from this brat? Aren’t you fucking easy? Come on, cum with me. Just like that, take it. Fuck, that’s it. Good. Good girl.” 
It’s the last bit of tension that pushes you over the edge, whether you care to admit it. Your voice breaks as a second orgasm washes through you - more intense but much shorter than the first and you nearly fall limp. You only barely manage to hold yourself up as your uncle keeps thrusting relentlessly. 
You can feel him twitch hard between your thighs when his orgasm finally hits. You shake as you feel him squish the tip between your thighs - hot ropes of cum spurting against the swollen mound of your cunt and dripping down your thighs as he finishes. He smacks your ass as he finishes, making you yelp. Your whole body is rife with exhaustion, finally coming down from high-highs and low-lows. 
“We’re gonna have a lot of fun together for the next few months kid,” He says, almost affection in his words. You’re too exhausted to reply, looking at him over your shoulder. “Let’s get along and do our best.” 
“You’re a sick-fuck, oji-san.” 
“And you’re a whole lot like me, aren’t you kid?.” 
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hazelfoureyes · 2 days
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A Doe in Fall (part 6)
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⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦
Part 6 Learning
Another night in bed with Alastor, but one that doesn’t feel quite right. You’re both learning about each other still. Unfortunately, it seems you’re not alone in finding out new information.
「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, blowjob, riding, swallowing CUM, mostly sex honestly, greenhouse , discussions of murder and dead bodies, nervous smoking, a nervous Alastor, tenderness, plants」
The tag list is broken, it wont let me copy and paste them as actual tags so I am manually adding them 😭
Minors DNI 🦌 🚘
You reached for the chain of the ceiling fan light, Alastor removing his clothes except his boxers as it was still too warm for pajamas. He pulled your clean slip from the drawer before making sure the window was locked but the curtains open. The bed softly illuminated with moonlight. 
Oh no. It felt strange. You would think this was a scene you’d seen before, perhaps in a photo beside the definition of home.
“Dear?” Alastor pulled back the blanket and sheet, “Everything alright?” You arm was still extended and holding the chain.
No. I’m too comfortable here already. I don’t feel like a guest.
“Come to bed.” He patted your side of the bed. You got changed, feeling him watching you.
“It’s nice to get undressed with an audience in a…boring way.” You huffed, the ache in your feet still with you. 
As you lifted your dress to unhook your garter, Alastor asked you sheepishly, “Would your stockings and garter be uncomfortable to sleep in?” You opened your mouth to answer before you realized what he was actually asking you. Fingers stopping, you let them be. 
“Not terribly, no.” 
When you slid into the bed in your slip and garters you caught how he grinned at you and suddenly you felt so shy. He always made you feel like it was your first time alone with a man when he looked at you with that smile, with those sharp eyes. You felt naked, deeper than just clothes.
Alastor scooted closer to you, arms wrapping around your waist and dragging you to meet him in the middle. Kisses to the side of your face until you turned, lips captured. As his hand came to your neck, large palm resting on your upper chest, you willed your heart to calm down. 
His mouth was hungry, tongue reaching for yours. You tried to breathe through your nose but couldn’t find the timing. When he pulled away, your mouth still open, he let his nose rub at yours. “I want to spoil you.” His hand slid down your front, fingers making a line through the center of your torso before coming to rest below your belly button. It was more intimate than you thought he realized. His hand sat heavy. “We can do as little or as much as you’d like.”
“Are you sure? I’m happy to cuddle in your fancy—,” you stretched your arms, “two person bed. Don’t worry about me.”
He kissed where your jaw ended, breathing into your ear a husky,  “I don’t want to cuddle. I want to make a new memory in my home.” In truth, he was desperate to feel you still wanted him. Despite what had happened.
That was all you needed. Throwing your leg over him you straddled his lap. You reached down to make sure his soft member had room to grow. His hands came to your hips but you brought them to your face and leaned down to continue greedy kisses. Hips rolling forward against him, your little moans into his mouth earned you sighs in return. 
You knew exactly what you wanted to do. You felt him growing under you as you rubbed against him. Catching his bottom lip in your teeth you gently tugged.
Leaning back, you took his hand and sucked one finger into your mouth. Pulling it out you added another, your teeth coming to rest well past his knuckles. A raspy groan coming from deep in his chest. Your hips kept rocking, tongue twirling as you slowly pulled him out of your mouth again. He fought the urge to say thank you. 
“Fellatio, Alastor.” You maintained eye contact, hips grinding as his golden brown eyes became wide, “Can I?”
His cock was twitching against you, but you needed a verbal yes before giving it your full attention.
“I’m not a huge fan of feeling my release on my skin.” He was frowning.  An honest to god frown like a bummed out child. You couldn’t help but find it cute. He was usually smirking so the frown felt like seeing the Easter bunny smoking. Just, so out of place.
“Well hun I wasn’t planning on giving it back to you.”
A gasp, he opened his mouth to say something about your unsurpassed ability to surprise him for the nth time, but his mouth had gone dry. He was sure you could feel him growing harder against the silk of your slip. He squeaked out an “Okay, yeah. Let’s try.”
You kissed his cheeks, feeling his blush heating your lips. Finally, you could be the one making a mess of the other. Moving down, you settled your own warm cheek in the crook where his thigh met his hip and let your hand lazily stroke him. 
Dicks were remarkably ugly things, possibly done so animals would bury them every chance possible to avoid having to look at them. But Alastor’s cock was pretty. Tan and pink, long and slender with a slight curve up that seemed biologically strategic. It was a shame he didn’t show it off more, but that was none of your business. 
“I missed you.” You cooed.
Alastor lifted his head from his pillow, he had been trying to not look at you because he already knew it would be too much. Sure enough, your barely lit face was looking at up from his lap. Eyes aglow with the dying summer moonlight and hand so tenderly touching him. What was he doing again?
Oh that’s right. You’d said something.
“Hmm?”
You kissed his tip, “I wasn’t talking to you.”
His head fell back down, making a noise that almost sounded like a word. Another peck of a kiss. Then a longer one. Your lips parted and his hands lightly gripped the sheets. Hot and wet, but a different version of wet heat you’d already allowed him to lose himself in. A firm palate and soft tongue running past his head and down his length.
For the life of him he couldn’t understand why you wanted to do this. The truth was you were already soaking through your panties, his little hip ruts and sharp inhales going straight to your core. You’d never wanted to please another person so much in your fucking life. Pornography made sense now, you’d pay to see photos of him spread out with a lusty face. But luckily your cost was minor, an express ticket to hell. 
You took him down to the base before lifting your head again.
“I want you to make the pace.” You brought his hand to the back of your head. His normally sharp features now soft and squiggly. “Fast or slow, little bit or all of it, you can stop me entirely whenever you want.”
His hand was riding your head as you bobbed on his cock. Tongue running along the underside, pressing up as you moved. A muscle twitched in his thigh which you found impossibly arousing. Every time you took him all the way into your mouth you couldn’t breathe and it only made you think of how deep he’d reached inside you before. 
Doting on his swollen head you licked his leaking precum from the slit. The look in your eyes promised to devour him as you sucked in your cheeks and made shallow moves, letting your hands slide down his shaft and balls. The weight of them in your hands had you twitching around nothing. 
Alastor’s breath was rough and strained, but his moans soft. You released him with a pop.
“Alastor.”
His eyes were focused on the ceiling, fingers stroking mindlessly at your hair. “Yes?”
“Are you not comfortable with moving my head? You’re just petting me. We can stop or—?”
Alastor let his hand come down to your chin, thumb running over your bottom lip, “No, no I don’t want to stop,” the look in eyes made you believe that. “I don’t know how to set the pace. You just want me to move your head? I’m not used to this and my brain is completely empty. Tell me plainly what you want and I’ll do it.” It sounded like a plea, almost begging for you to give him instruction. Because he was. He was pleading for you to tell him how to make you happy in new ways. “I want to do it.”
Plainly? Okay. This was one area of life you could manage to be completely straight. “I want you,” you kissed the tip of his cock again, “to guide my head on and off your cock,” a kiss down his shaft followed by another, “until you come in my throat.” You kissed the dark hair around his base, taking a moment to enjoy the scent of his manhood. “I wanna do it at your speed.”
A whimper, his dick bouncing up with a twitch and hitting your cheek, “Fuck.” He nodded, “I won’t last long when your mouth is so skilled verbally and physically, my dear.”
You hummed as his hands guided you back down, was this still letting him take the lead? The lines were blurred of who was leading who. But that was fine, maybe two people could move forward in tandem.
It made your pussy clench with a need to be filled when he finally pressed your head all the way down. With some difficulty you kept your teeth from scratching him while hollowing your cheeks again.
Hands busy cupping and caressing his balls, you let him quicken his pace.
A pleasant surprise as his hips began to buck up with his increasingly strident groans. You moaned around his cock, taking quick breaths through your nose whenever you were pulled off before his thrusts and pushes choked you again. Your eyes were watering, glossy as you tried to focus on his face. Looking down and across his tightened stomach his eyes met yours. The way his mouth was open was one thing but the moan of your name as his eyes lolled back made you feel feral. 
You shifted your hand to pumping his unsheathed length faster as he focused on his head hitting and sliding up the back of your tongue. You were confident he was almost at his peak. Seeing his eyes roll made you hungry to bring him to orgasm. The characteristic lost rhythm of his hips was a dead giveaway as much as the slowing of his hand bobbing your head that you were on the right track.
When you rolled your tongue Alastor loudly moaned in earnest, he seemed caught off guard by the sensation and his own response. The sound made you whimper around him. You wanted to make him make more sounds. More glimpses of him enjoying himself without restraint.
“My love… please,” he sounded like he was holding his breath, “Can I?” He felt insecure, he’d only entertained fellatio twice in his life and both times he found the sensations bordering disgusting and the aftermath humiliating. One partner dribbling his cum back onto his stomach, the other spitting it into his handkerchief. No one seemed happy with any part of it. But your mouth didn’t feel wrong. No part of you made him feel like a chore. Nothing about you ever made him feel put up with, instead in that moment he felt like you enjoyed him. He felt delicious in your mouth.
One hand on the back of your head pushing your head down onto him quicker as he was just at the cusp, the other where your jaw and ear met lifting you off him slightly slower to languish in the drag of your tongue over his cock.
You hummed an affirmative and braced yourself, a thick and salty shot of his release hitting the back of your throat with force. You took him down to the base again, swallowing around his head as much as his size allowed. He hissed, hips rising off the bed. You didn’t stop swallowing despite his whines and spasms, shoulders jerking up and off the pillows as he folded in over your head. The silence of the night interrupted by his overstimulated gasps spilling out around you.
Only when he stilled, body no longer twitching as he lied back down, did you let up.
He was almost scared to look at you. Flashes of a long forgotten face of disgust behind his eyes. 
“Alastor?” Your voice was so sweet, more so than usual. He dared to look.
A smile that reached your eyes. No mask, no grimace, no disappointment.
“You okay, doll?” You took his left hand and kissed his palm before setting your cheek against it. “Was it too much? Uncomfortable?”
What a silly question. He was the one who pulled you into murder, who left you vulnerable to dangerous men, who hadn’t ever considered how loving someone like him could put you at risk of terrible heartbreak. You had never been too much, he was the one spilling out of his canvas and staining you.
“We don’t have to do that ever again, okay?” You kissed his hand again, misreading his face entirely. Odd, you were usually so keen to the finer details of his mood. But when it came to sex, to his preferences, you knew you were better left always giving him room to ask for more, not less. Never make him need to ask you to stop. Never push past an absolute certainty of comfort, or put him in a position where he felt obligated to continue.
You’d decided some time ago you’d close your legs for good if it meant sharing a blanket with him. Your list of needs were rearranged the moment he pushed you into that bathroom, not that had known at the time or that you’d admit it was so early in your meeting.
Alastor smiled, finally, “No, it wasn’t.” While it wasn’t his favorite way to spend his time, he didn’t hate it. He wanted to ask if he was okay, if he was obviously inexperienced or embarrassingly quick. His eyes did that thing again, flitting around your face like he was reading a difficult but intriguing book.
You moved your body up to rest flush against his chest with your own. Silk slip cool on his heated skin. “I am very grateful you let me indulge myself, but,” a kiss to his chest before smiling back at him, your feet kicking up and knocking the blanket off, “Don’t push yourself, baby.” Your finger traced little circles on his chest.
He sat up. Slightly caught off guard, you did too. From the shadows of his bed you couldn’t see it before, but as he kissed you in an almost frantic succession of lips crashing into yours you pulled away to look him in the eyes. Blown out pupils shining back at you again. He stole another kiss, you not noticing his hand coming to his lap.
“I want to go at your pace now.” When he attempted another kiss, a pleasure soaked sigh stopped him. Your eyes traveled to the busy hand between you both.
“You can ride me, I’ve been selfish these last few times.” his hand was stroking himself, trying to get as hard as he could without getting too close to cumming a second time.
Even in the dim light he could see your face clearly, partly why he didn’t remove his glasses yet. You looked genuinely concerned. His free hand’s index finger and thumb came out almost like an upside down finger gun, a promise, “I want to feel you come undone around me.” You hooked your index with his, thumbs touching. It almost made a heart. “You can use me as you need, I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”
You’d accepted him but he wanted more. He wanted you to need him. He’d be happy with just a night of neediness, really. Just confirmation he could keep you happy.
A blush spread up from your chest. There wasn’t anything to say. He left no room for doubt with his purposeful request. Leaning back again he slid a hand between your thighs and into your underwear. “Oh, you really did enjoy yourself didn’t you?” He brought his shining fingertip to his mouth and let those love affected eyes take you in as he licked his digits clean.
Unkindly beautiful. He was upsettingly ethereal beneath you, skin a glow in a way that rivaled the sun’s own bloom. His soft hair uncharacteristically messy, glasses fallen just a bit down his nose. The usually confident and sure Alastor was demure and needy between your legs. You’d never seen him look like that, even the first time was a different sight.
How lucky you were to get to devour him twice in one evening. You lifted yourself up and kept your eyes glued to his face as you pulled aside your panties and filled yourself with him. 
A moment of pause when you bottomed out, letting you both adjust. A confession of his own, “I’ve never let anyone on top before.”
You tightened around him, “You skipped straight to eating women out in bathrooms?”
A quick correction by him, “Not women. A Woman.” 
You tightened again, knees riding up over his stomach. “Well, I hope you’ll trust me with every first.”
Fighting the urge to bruise your ass on his hips, you took a gentle pace at first, knowing he’d just orgasmed minutes before. He was still sensitive, evident from his hisses and jerky movements with every bounce. His mouth was hanging open again with already heavy and loud breaths, eyes glued to watching himself disappear into your cunt.
Leaning down, you switched to rolling your hips front and back and kissing at his clavicle. You worked up his neck, pausing to whisper an ask, “Does it hurt?” into the bruised skin of this throat.  He said it was fine so you continued kisses up and then along his jaw. When his mouth reached for yours you dodged and kissed his nose. Another whiny whimper, hands rubbing down your hips and running over the place your skin met your stockings. His fingers ran up the straps of garters and back down again.
You kissed his cheeks, then the corner of his mouth. He looked at you like you were hurting him, like it pained him to not have your mouth on his. A moan pulled his expression from torture to ecstasy.
Alastor felt good, his ego unfurling in his chest with the sight of your pleasure. It was as if he were being worshiped and in worship of you at the same time. Your kisses were an offering, his moans a prayer.
No one had ever doted so sweetly on him during sex, perhaps he never let them. The very notion briefly floated by of past lovers kissing at his neck and it just as briefly made his skin crawl. Though he deeply enjoyed kisses when everyone was dressed. 
Much like small beds, affection was made comfortable by your presence. He wanted to be possessed by you. He felt he would be stronger somehow if he was wholly yours. 
Resting your forehead on his in the most loving act you’d ever offered a man during sex, you used his shoulders as a sturdy support to resume riding him in earnest. A workout you actually enjoyed, lifting your weight off of him and making a controlled descent to impale yourself again and again on his heated member. His swollen tip was sliding past your g-spot but it wasn’t hitting it as hard as you needed. But before you could move, you felt Alastor bring his arms up.
He used his hands like you’d taught him and grabbed the back of your head to bring you into a kiss. Lips on lips, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth.
You broke the kiss to sit back up, giving your thighs a burn as you tried to create enough friction to build up your orgasm. 
Often times you closed your eyes during sex, not because it just felt so good, but because you didn’t know where to look that wasn’t terribly uncomfortable. But not now, your eyes were locked on Alastor’s, every time he bit his bottom lip and every furrowed brow sent tingles that rolled down your shoulders , slipped along your ribs and settled in your stomach. 
You didn’t want to blink and risk missing a single reaction. The soft slap of your ass on his lap became more obscene as you got wetter. Slippery was the best word for it, Alastor trying to compare your mouth to the feeling of your twitching cunt. As you moaned his name and clenched around him, he knew he liked this more. Your mouth was free to make pretty noises for him. Sounds that made him twitch in you. 
How you could be so soft and yet gripping him so tightly he couldn’t understand. He began to realize how little he understood about any of it. Normally not actually paying attention this much during sex, but he let deeper thoughts go and just focused on the way you looked riding him.
A moment shared between you both as your eyes caught again; static shock without the contact.
“Could you cross your legs? At the ankle.” You reached around and made sure his still heavy balls were safely above his legs. Alastor did it without asking questions.
You needed a new angle, but there was no way in hell you’d turn around. Leaning back with both hands on his thighs, you could angle his cock head to graze that bundle of nerves his hands worked so well in the past. Heavy breaths morphed into deep moans as you worked him into that spot repeatedly. 
When you let a hand come forward and flick at your clit you had to sink down onto him, unable to keep your body up the same way. Shorter movements but a quicker pace to match your finger. Alastor tore his eyes from yours to watch your hand work, studying the way you moved so he could master pulling orgasms from you with his own.
Quiet, so softly you gasped and mewled as you quickly raised the tension in your lower belly. No more lifting, no energy or focus to offer, just grinding against him until you felt that snap of pressure and your muscles rolled around his cock. Alastor was quick to watch your face as he recognized the spasms making his thighs twitch again.
As your orgasm waned, the pleasure dying, you felt a clarity you couldn’t before. You looked down over Alastor, and found yourself worried. A small sense of dissatisfaction. You couldn’t put your finger on it so you let it go. Learning about Alastor carnally would take time, and you needed to allow that to happen naturally.
He was the one who suggested it, but it didn’t feel as satisfying as before.  Even with his orgasm, you felt like you’d gotten more from the interaction. And you weren’t sure what that something was or what that meant. The feeling in the air the first time wasn’t there now, and you weren’t sure why. You planted a kiss on his lips, trying to feel if anything was missing. His lips moved against yours and his hands rubbed at your thighs. He felt just like Alastor.
“Feel good, my dear?” He didn’t open his eyes, instead kissing you before you could reply. You hummed into his mouth.
“I feel good anytime I’m near you.” 
The right answer.
His smile widened, “That’s all I want.”
With a deep sigh, you unseated yourself and lied back in your spot. Your slip was sticking to your skin in various places from sweat, it was uncomfortable but you were too tired to even ask him about showering. He took off his glasses and rolled to face you so you rolled too.
Lying there and looking at each other, Alastor’s eyes adjusted to the shadows to see your face. “I feel like…women often over-act during sex. You don’t though. Or you’re a great actress.”
You nodded, “Yeah I can see that. I definitely have. Also I’m a performer, professionally.”
A nervous smile spread on his face.
“I actually really hate touching you.” You laughed. Alastor placed his hand on your shoulder and you faked a gag, “Disgusting. So strong and yet soft. The worst.” 
“Unfunny.” Alastor quoted you.
“No, I don’t do that with you.” Your hand touched at his, “Lots of other people though. I guess we feel like we have to make the guy feel like he’s doing well.” You hadn’t thought before speaking and suddenly worried you’d said something unattractive. There was a relaxation to the way you were talking with him that reminded you of being backstage at the theater.
“I have definitely been on the receiving end of that.” Alastor grimaced, “Feels like making someone a meal you don’t even like, just for them to pretend to eat it and hum loudly with every fake bite. Why push for sex and then just pretend.” Alastor mimed bringing a utensil to your mouth, “Here’s that fried catfish you love darling.”
“Lostsa reasons. And I hate catfish.”
He dropped the fake fork, “Thank God for that, catfish is disgusting.” 
Chewing on your bottom lip you just jumped into the fear, “Did it bother you, when I said ‘lots of people’ just now?”
“Why would it?”
You reached out and touched his cheek, “Just checking. Tell me about your day. If I fall asleep it’s a compliment to your voice and not an insult.”
It had been a boring day, save for his worry about you seeing his home. He rambled about work as boringly as he could until he heard the soft and deep breathing of a sleeper. And then he told you about how he cleaned, and changed the bedding, about how he swept the porch and stared into his fridge.
When he ran out of details, he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. The sound of your breathing was a new noise for his room. It was nice. His hand slid under the sheet until it found one of yours. It didn’t take long for his mind to settle and for him to fall asleep.
And then his eyes opened and it was bright in the room. He was on his side now, facing away from you. Alastor wondered if he was asleep still, but your breath behind him was evidence enough this wasn’t a nightmare. He was awake. He’d slept through the night without a terror or stressor plaguing him for the first time in, well, he couldn’t remember.
But the torment waited for him to awaken, a tinge of embarrassment washing over him from head to toe like a chill. Had he asked you to ride him? To use him? What the fuck was wrong with him? He was mortified, pulling the pillow over his face. He hadn’t even been drunk. He sounded like some horny teenager desperate to be touched. Not at all what he had been hoping to convey.
He managed to hide it well enough, through breakfast and to the patio where he could finally put his attention fully on something else.
“This is where I bring the bodies.” Alastor walked you to greenhouse doors. “There’s no one in there now. But,” he cleared his throat, “You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to. I’ll never have you help with this part.”
You looked at each other, his eyes taking in the places where you’d been bruised before. Bruises he could still see in his head. Your eyes staring at the blooming purples of his neck. You hadn’t seen them before, his normal collar hiding them well enough. But he wasn’t headed to work yet, so you got see him in a clean white t-shirt tucked into his usual pants. Only he could make that look like a state of undress.
You jiggled the handles, looking past the hardwater stained glass to barely visible green beyond, “If you don’t unlock this door right now I will break in.”
Alastor laughed, pulling the key he’d grabbed earlier from his pocket.
You considered making a joke about your skills with rocks but thought better of it.
When the doors opened, you were surprised to see plants.
Not because they were in there, but that it was all you saw. Alastor walked past you and to the left, “Most people naturally turn right when they enter a room. Buys me a little time just in case someone comes in.” You followed him past long and tall shelves of various potted plants and flowers.
“And most people would consider a shed more suspicious than an all glass greenhouse. Nothing nefarious about glass. The plants help obscure the sights and the hard water takes care of the view from ground level.” He pointed up and over to the house, “You can see it perfectly well from the second floor.”
“Aren’t you worried about neighbors?” He turned right to step through some plants then stopped in front of a large metal table.
“Nearest neighbors are at least several acres away on all sides, we don’t interact.” His finger slid across the clean and shining surface, “Dismember, drain, back in the car to then disappear them far away from here.”
Your short heel sank down into the dirt, a memory of Tommy at better times taking your attention away from where you placed your weight. 
“The ground soaks up the water and blood. Bugs take what I miss. And it stays pretty warm even in winter, so the ground stays soft.”
Morbid. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t morbid as your eyes sank to the soil beneath your feet. Turning around you looked for anything out of place. You saw gardening supplies like shears, axes, hand saws, tarps. Plants everywhere, pretty flowers and small trees. It was a very full but very normal greenhouse. Approaching the table you lowered yourself  to look underneath. Empty clay pots, bags of dirt, seeds. Clean and dry. 
“It looks like a functional greenhouse.”
“Exactly.”
“No I mean— it, not a single trace of,” you searched for a good word, “impropriety.” You’d heard that shouted at you before. “Even the plants are cared for. How much time do you spend keeping this room perfect? When do you sleep?”
His head tilted, “I don’t sleep much. So, I have time. The long nights are just the ones when I have someone in here.”
“I promise my praise is coming but first — Alastor.” You stood, “Ya know you could have just slept last night. Like, a full night's sleep. We didn’t have to stay up. That’s two nights already you barely slept. On top of…years? Of this?”
A suddenly nervous energy, Alastor’s hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked away. Oh no, that was a first you hadn’t considered. 
Had you been too harsh? Sounded too much like nagging wife? You felt like one. 
“Sorry. It’s not my place to speak on.” You sighed and set your hands on the waist height table. His back must hurt, he was so much taller than the table, he must be bent over quite a bit when he worked. You couldn’t stop imagining him, tired and hunched.
Alastor came to stand beside you, hands mirroring yours, “No, that’s exactly it. It’s become your place, hasn’t it? But I’m still acting like I’m alone.” You bit your tongue. “Yes we should have slept. I was tired. But, you did a lot recently. For me. Selflessly.”
Ah. His fingers on his left hand intertwined with your right, eyes searching for something in the scratched grey blue of the workspace.
“I want to provide for all your needs.”
A tinge of fear again ran through him. He needed you to need him. So you wouldn’t leave. He wanted you to see how he could give you everything.
You could have screamed in the best way, somehow feeling a spark in your lap, provide for you? Why did it sound like an act of service when he said it and not a threat to your autonomy? 
“You’re already giving me so many things I need. Phone calls in the morning and kisses after work. Respect for my job and myself as a human, not just a woman. Your voice when I’m falling asleep,” you cleared your throat now, too saccharine of a speech already, “Someone to lick the blood off my face. An alibi. That kinda stuff. Ya know?”
“I’m not joking.”
The muscles in your back locked. You gripped his hand, you could feel him staring at the side of your face but didn’t want to see what expression he had. Unfortunately he knew you too well already.
“Look at me.”
Your natural reaction to being given an order was to do the opposite. But you couldn’t muster the petulance. You finally turned to look back at him.
He’d never looked so serious. Eyes brighter in the sun than you’d remembered them being bore into yours. Locked, you were frozen in his stare.
A deer in the headlights.
He wasn’t studying your face this time, he was staring into. Not through you, no, you could feel his gaze being soaked into the back of your skull.
“I’m learning. Be patient with me? And you can tell me when I’m fucking up. I want it be our places in each other’s lives.”
“Al-,” it came out a squeak, you tried again, “I’m not either. Joking, that is.” His intense look was blinked away. “I need all the little things most. I can’t get them from anyone else. I don’t want them from anyone else. The tender kisses, the hand holding, cuddling. I’m terribly happy.” A tentative kiss to his nose, “But I need you tiptop. Sleeping, eating, human things like that. Let me help you balance things. I want to provide, too.”
Arms snaked around your waist, forehead to forehead, his smile grew, small but still a welcomed sight as always, “Can I have that praise you mentioned earlier now?”
You nodded, listing all the brilliant ways he protected himself from detection. A long form good boy. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Across the parish and downtown, a nervous woman fidgeted in a worn wooden chair. She had been woken up by a loud knock at her door when she was still sleeping off her late night.
“I thought this was all done with. Did you really need to drag me down here? Not a big fan of flat foots. You understand.”
He sighed, placing his hat on the empty chair beside him. His partner would be there if his partner was aware he was even doing this. But they had already written him off as obsessed with nothing, “Of course. Just finishing up some paperwork is all, miss. So, not a single enemy? I hear he had debts.”
“Well I mean,” her high pitched voice somehow creeped up into even higher an octave with her nerves, “We all had guesses but, no, never seen him fight with anyone except a dancer here and there. Mean right hook, that guy. I’m glad he’s gone. I hope he’s dead.”
He perked up, “He hit on ya’ll?”
“Once in a blue moon. But he really let Autumn have it before he up and left. Never seen him that mad before. She was bruised up for like a week after.” She ashed her cigarette in the bowl on the table between them, “He wasn’t normally like that. Just when girls refused dates. And Autumn really wasn’t playing along, if ya know what I mean.”
Detective Brady leaned over the interrogation table, “What dates?”
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nervoussagittarius · 12 hours
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do you still have wisdom?
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matt sturniolo x reader
summary: in the midst of your wisdom teeth removal, your boyfriend and his brothers become your caregivers, request
warnings: fluffy, language, one suggestive comment, talk of needles and surgery, mention of a safe word
the camera started rolling as you lethargically placed yourself in matt’s arms. today was the day you were getting your wisdom teeth removed and it was safe to say you were extremely nervous.
“tell everyone how you’re feeling y/n/n” nick said.
you lifted your head from matt’s chest and you replied, “i feel nervous about being put under anesthesia and i’m just really tired.” you felt matt footing shift slightly as he chucked.
matt moved from holding you to just wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “yeah so y/n didn’t really sleep last night, but you’ll have all the time to sleep tonight, okay?” you looked up at him and nodded with a small smile.
“so we’re going to go to the dentist and we’ll see you guys there.”
about an hour went by before you were sat in the chair, laying back, getting ready to receive your iv. you were not excited. you didn’t have a big fear of needles, you could tolerate them. it was the idea of the needle being in your arm for a long amount of time.
the three boys stood around you in a comforting manner. nick and matt stood to your right. nick filming while matt held your hand and soothingly ran his fingers through your hair. chris stood to your left paying attention to what the doctors were telling you guys.
“we’re going to put your iv in and it will give you the anesthesia so you’ll be out shortly after that. we’ll be in and out for the next couple minutes to see how you’re doing.” your doctor said as he started prepping your arm for the needle. you turned your head towards matt as he made goofy faces at you as a distraction.
“thank you.” you guys all stated as the doctor left your room. your eyes almost instantly started to become heavy and you felt sleep begin to take over.
the drowsiness became more prominent as the boys started to make jokes. “y/n, what kind of cup doesn’t hold liquid?” chris asked laughing. your eyes fluttered shut as you held a finger to your lips to shush him. “a cupcake.” chris finished making nobody laugh but himself.
you reached your arm up over your shoulder to gets matt’s attention. you blindly hit him and he looked down at you. “what’s up, love?” he asked.
“please ask chris to stop making jokes. i can’t focus on him right now.”
chris gave you an offended face as nick and matt broke out into a laughter. “you heard her chris, stop talking.” nick said almost in tears from laughing.
the doctor came back in just as you fell fully asleep. “okay y/n, we’re going to test your memory later. your password is grape.” you deliriously nodded in agreement. matt stayed by your side rubbing your shoulder for as long as he could before ultimately getting kicked out of the room.
the three boys stood in the hallway half focused on eachother and half focused on you. “how are you feeling matt?” chris asked, patting him on the shoulder and coming around to stand next to him. “i feel okay. i know how much pain she’s been in so i’m glad we’re getting that taken care of. i’m happy we’re all here to support her.”
the camera panned to you in the chair just as you started to lift your head slightly. you quickly side eyed the doctors as they readjusted you to leaning back.
a short time passed before all four of your wisdom teeth were extracted and your three best friends were allowed back in your room.
“how are you feeling y/n/n?” chris asked.
your were still a bit out of it and the gauze in your mouth slurred your words. “i’m cold.” was all that you got out. you were feeling emotional so when the three boys all looked at each other because they forgot your jacket in the car tears started to brim your eyes.
“awe sweetheart don’t cry we’ll figure it out. here you can have my long sleeve.” once you realized matt was next to you it was like your heart did a one eighty. “oh hi matt! i missed you!” you exclaimed lovingly as your words blended together.
“i appreciate the offer but i can’t put the shirt over my iv.” you said with a tiny frown. almost instantly chris started removing his zip-up and draped it over you. “hey! thanks chris.” you gave him a loopy smile.
“hey y/n, do you remember your password?” your doctor asked as he came back into the room to type on the computer. you instantly gave him, and the three brothers around you, a very confused look. “my safe word?” you questioned “yeah, it’s pian-” matt quickly but gently put his hand over your mouth to stop your talking.
you pushed his hand off of you. “what baby? he asked.”
“no y/n, he asked what your password was.” “like for my phone?” you were extremely confused at this point and you couldn’t get much out of the three boys who were laughing their asses off. your doctor took over trying to explain. “we gave you a password that you were supposed to remember. do you?” you shook your head at him. “that’s okay we’re going to give you another on and if you remember then you can leave and go home. your password is ocean.”
“ocean, got it”
you thought for a second before speaking up again. “hey doc, how long until i can suck dick again?” nick and chris had officially lost it at this point. cracking up at the fact that you had no idea that your exposing all of your and matt’s secrets. matt only blushed and tried not to smile when you smiled up at him and grabbed his hand in yours. you tried to wink at him but it came out more as a delayed blink.
the doctor didn’t look shocked at all. you figured he’d been used to receiving this question. “you have to wait until your incisions heal. so a couple weeks.” and with that the doctor left the room again.
you looked at matt with a sorrowful face. “sorry matt.” you remorsefully said. trying to change the subject matt spoke up, “what’s the password, sweetheart?” you looked at him lovingly. “you’re pretty.” you said reaching you hand up to rest on his cheek.
“thanks baby.”
“hey, between me and nick whose your favorite?” asked chris as he poked your shoulder in an annoying but excited manner. you looked at him, then at nick, and then back to matt. you looked straight into the camera nick was holding before firmly stating, “i don’t have favorites.” chris rolled his eyes at you.
“and if i did have a favorite it would be matt, duh.” hearing this matt leaned down to kiss your forehead.
“y/n, what’s your password to go home.”
“um? lake?”
“ohhhh so close. it is a body of water. it was ocean.” chris cooed at you as he rubbed your shoulder.
“your new one is sushi.” “oh i love sushi.”
you reached up to rub your eyes forgetting that your were still connected to a couple of wires. “ow you mother fucker.” you commented looking down at you arms. “please kiss it.” you said lifting your arm up to chris since he was closest to your iv.
“listen kid, i love ya but i’m not kissing your arm.”
“that’s so fucked up. i’d do it for you.” you complained. hesitantly, chris leaned down to place the lightest peck possible to your arm. “thank you. matt, i love you” you quickly changed the subject. he was caught off guard at your sudden outburst. “i love you too, y/n”
“nick, chris, i love you guys too.” “we love you y/n.” “love ya y/n/n.”
the doctor made his way back to the room to see that your medicine was all injected through your veins. and started to take your iv out. “do you remember the password to go home, y/n?”
“yep it’s sushi.” you said as you kept your eyes on matt to avoid noticing the needle coming out of your arm. he ran his hand up and down your arm to comfort you. “that’s right.” nick said patting your leg to congratulate you on remembering.
the doctor got a wheelchair to take you to the car. when you made it to the parking garage matt helped you into the passenger seat and gently kissed your cheek letting you know he had to go get the parking pass.
you leaned back in your chair and sighed contently. “i just love him so much. he’s so perfect and babygirl.” nick and chris laughed as matt came back to the car.
you held your teeth to the camera showing them the container. “i have to put my teeth under my pillow so the tooth fairy brings me money.”
“you’re bloody teeth are not going anywhere near my bed.” “our bed.”
the video ended shortly after that with you grabbing matt’s hand and telling the viewers to enjoy the video while you enjoyed the dominic fike album chris put on for you.
comments:
i love how flirty y/n is in anesthesia
matt was so boyf in this video
y/n is right matt is babygirl
chris is such a little brother it’s unreal
nick is really giving us the content we need
an: this is all i’ve been thinking about for the past day. also i started a tag list so go comment on it if you want added 🤍
taglist: @norr1ssturni0lo @recklessmatt
tags for this post: @thetriplets3 @mazzystar111
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fallenhunnyapple · 3 days
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Sketchy doodles for another AU. Details + a bonus in under the cut
An Angel Lucifer appears in Heaven. No one knows why he's there or how he got there, but it doesn't seem as though the Lucifer in Hell has been replaced, this is just a whole second Lucifer. His memories only seem to go so far as the early days of Eden. Days where he was friends with the First Humans but before he had developed any sort of relationship or even real feelings for Lilith.
Adam, sort of shaken but also sort of Eager to reconnect with his first friend and the more pleasant memories of Eden, advocates to let him Stay. This Lucifer hasn't done anything, he doesn't even know about the Tree of Knowledge and it's not like Eden exists anymore for him to try it anyway. Lucifer is granted the ability to live in Heaven, but Adam will have to be responsible for him. Adam agrees and now has to watch over a Naive and Friendly Lucifer.
Lute is Less than Thrilled. She doesn't like that Lucifer is always around and she doesn't Trust him, even if Adam seems to. She does eventually warm up to him, but given her personality it doesn't really seem like she does. But Lucifer notices and he considers her a good friend. He ends up spending time with just her without Adam (she's basically angelsitting because Adam had other things to do) and they bond a bit and she's willing to accept that he's Not the Devil and that he's no more threatening than most non-exorcist Angels.
And once Heaven determines the same, he's tasked with Working with Emily to maintain the Happiness of Heaven's residents. Emily keeps an eye on him, but mostly they are both very positive personalities that play off each other well and they become fast friends. The first time he spent the day with Emily was the day of the first Extermination since Lucifer got there. Someone had to watch him while Lute and Adam were away. He doesn't know about the Exterminations (Most of Heaven doesn't so it's no surprise), and he doesn't even know about Hell. It was deemed... For the Best if he was kept in the dark about that. No one knows how he came to be and they don't want to risk anything happening because he finds out about the other version of him.
Lucifer is Very In Love with Adam. It wasn't immediately or anything. At first he was just really happy to have his best friend back, especially when everything was so different from how he remembered it, it'd been thousands of years after all. But he spent most of his time with Adam and anyone could tell you that Adam was less of a crass asshole with Lucifer around. Not by much, but enough to be noticeable. And over that time, Lucifer still saw a lot of who Adam was in Eden but also came to appreciate who he was (No one understands why)
It took a while before Adam was comfortable enough to take off his helmet around Lucifer. Sure he knew his human face, but he'd definitely changed over the years and his insecurities about his face were made Worse when Lucifer only knew him at his Best. Lucifer finally got to see him maskless one night when Adam let him see him before bed. And Lucifer was super smitten. Yes his face was Different, but not in a way Lucifer thought was bad. Adam definitely looked Older and Tired, but he thought it was Endearing instead of put off. After that he would sometimes watch Adam sleep-
Adam for his part is in emotional turmoil. Yes, he was in Love with Lucifer in the Garden. But completely against his better Judgement, his feelings have evolved and he's in love with the King of Hell. He's reluctant to think about Angel Lucifer that way because he represents a simpler and more innocent time and he doesn't want to corrupt that with new feelings.
Lucifer eventually confides in Lute about his feelings and she tells him that 1) Adam isn't into men and 2) He doesn't do committed relationships. It won't end well for him if he tells Adam. Lucifer is hurt but appreciates her honesty. He decides to tell him anyway because it's getting hard to keep it all to himself when he's around him everyday.
Well, the confession goes about the way Lute said it would. Adam tells him he doesn't like dudes and he doesn't hold it against him because who wouldn't want a piece of him? But they're still friends, that won't change. Lucifer already braced for it and it hurts but he accepts that answer. The only thing is, now that its out in the open, his friendly nature is So Much Easier to read as him pining and him being in love. So Adam has to just deal with Lucifer's love being thrown at him every day. The behavior hasn't changed Too Much, but his understanding of it has. But other people of Heaven definitely Know. Its so obvious to them that Lucifer is in Love with Adam. Some people criticize Adam for leading Lucifer along and bad mouth him. Lucifer doesn't like hearing anyone talk poorly about his best friend and will chastise and scold them.
It's finally when some winner/angel tells Lucifer he should get Adam flowers (as a joke, they think it would be funny because Adam doesn't have an ounce of Romance in his whole body) that things change. Lucifer does get him flowers! And he gives them to him when they're alone and Adam has removed his helmet. This is the first time Lucifer has been Proactive about his feelings and Adam doesn't have the cover of his Mask to hide his true reactions, so he can't deny how the gesture affects him. He was really only ever able to keep himself in check about his feelings for Lucifer because Lucifer wasn't Doing anything different. He wasn't Pursuing him. But now? Now he can't deny it anymore. Lucifer asks for a kiss and he gets it.
Bonus:
As an Angel, Lucifer didn't know or understand much about sex. It was meant for Reproduction and Angels reproduce asexually so he had no interest in it. It was a thing for the creatures of Earth to have, not Angels. So he has No Idea it's a recreational thing and despite the fact that he knows Adam and Lute fuck around regularly, he just Really doesn't understand why and they don't explain it either. So after Lucifer and Adam are together, Lucifer wants to understand Better and discovers the fact that it is, in fact, something that can be done Recreationally and its supposed to Feel Good. So, of course, he wants to experience that with his new Boyfriend. Let him learn what all the fuss is about~
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fernandopiastri28 · 2 days
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you love me (i really do) ~ lando norris
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~ part 1 ~
warnings: drinking, angst
Everything came back to her now about that night in a flash, the night Lando got a podium in Singapore. It had seemed like a blur in the moment, since the celebration had been so quickly swallowed up by endless shots, blaring music, too much touching, and the way Lando’s touch felt hot and heavy all over her.
He’d wanted to celebrate it, that’s obviously why he was crazy drunk- his eyes bright with the sort of excitement only a champion had. He’d been so happy, soaking up every moment of attention that blared on him. Sure, Carlos had won the race, but Lando had been enjoying each second like he was the one taking home the first place trophy.  
The photos and videos seemed endless. There was him getting out of the car, his toothy grin, the way his face lit up in pride as he raised the trophy high above his head. Each scroll past the photos felt like more of her restraint being chipped away at her body.
Her situation had become so direly drastic to the one she’d found herself deep within only a matter of hours ago. Her surroundings went from the blinding neon lights of the club, to the sudden dim shade as her head remained buried under layers of thick blankets. Her neck craned at an uncomfortable angle to look at her phone screen as her thumb idly swiped through twitter. It seemed like a bad dream, a bad hangover at that- all regret with all good memories just narrowly out of reach.
Seemingly, the whole platform had been going crazy over the ‘CarLando’ podium. The memory of seeing it first hand was beyond hazy for her, but seeing the photos now- it must’ve been the best of his career. Standing on the second step next to his best friend, champagne coated his face in a glimmering sheen under the luminous night light celebrations. 
Each new piece of media that appeared on her timeline caused her resolve to falter slightly more, being steadily replaced with the desire to bombard his phone with strings of apology texts. She shouldn’t have walked out on him, she shouldn’t have left without an apology, she shouldn't have ignored the three times he’d tried to call her presumably just after he’d woken up in an empty bed.
But she also shouldn’t have slept with him.
He was her best friend and not even a day ago, he was on top of her, all over her, inside her. Who’s to say when he did it with her would’ve been different? It was likely the exact same as every other time for him- have a good race (sometimes even if it had been a shitty one), get drinks, wait for a flock of attention from girls, give the most basic of compliments, ‘ you have beautiful eyes,’, ‘you’re fucking gorgeous in that dress,’, and wait for them to fall to their knees for him- literally.
Maybe it would wash over, maybe he’d be fine by the Japanese grand prix, Qatar at the least. He’d be fine, he always was. He somehow managed to consistently pick himself back up after each bad race, getting over a one night stand would be much easier than that.
Right?
Japan was the race directly after Singapore, and she didn’t attend. Lando wasn’t going to miss her, she’s pretty sure of that. After the initial few calls he’d attempted to make to her the morning she left him in the hotel, he’d gone seemingly radio silent. He was posting regularly on instagram, liking stupidly immature tweets, even hinting towards big upcoming projects for quadrant. He was.. normal. Unaffected clearly.
She took a flight to Australia, reckoning it was just about the safest place she could escape from Lando. The Australian grand prix was way back at the beginning of the year, and unlike his teammate, this wasn’t even his home, and he had no reason to go there.
She could camp out here for as long as she pleased- or at least until the middle of march when the 2024 Australian grand prix would be taking place. From the 24 of september until the 20 of march (give or take a few days), she had just about 6 months to sort herself the fuck up with him, or just escape somewhere else.
Trying to ignore all the information and blast of new media as the Qatar grand prix approached was near unignorable. McLaren was clearly confident about the track, and they believed that even under the unideal conditions of the track and the surrounding environment, that the cars were designed to fit each aspect of the Lusail Circuit.
And she wasn’t necessarily purposefully ignoring anything Lando related- in actuality she sometimes found her fingers hovering over a new interview of his. It was refreshing to see him happy, looking a whole lot better than she’d been feeling the last few days. So when her calendar pings as a reminder that qualifying was happening at 7 am, despite the stupid hour she’d need to be awake for it- she watched it anyways. 
Lando narrowly ended in 10th after his lap times were deleted. Oscar suffered the same fate, but still had the advantage of being 3 places ahead of his senior teammate for the sprint shootout. Unfortunately he suffered again in the sprint shootout, Oscar starting in pole position while he came narrowly behind in second. Considerably an impressive feat, but for someone who wasn’t satisfied if he was not very first- Lando couldn’t have seemed more disappointed.
The sprint was worse for him afterwards, dropping from 1st to 2nd as Max took his spot. Oscar retained his pole, keeping his pace throughout the whole race to eventually take home his first win (even if ‘ it wasn’t a real race’) as a rookie. Lando, once again, was not thrilled. After being in the sport for 5 years, he was still chasing the high that would accompany a win.
On the day of the actual race, Lando performed only slightly worse than Oscar- the two of them securing the second ‘McPodium’ of the season with Oscar on the second step and Lando in third. Beneath the sheer exhaustion, near matching grins spreaded across both of their faces as they proudly held up their trophies. There was no doubt that Lando would every let the fact that his rookie teammate got win before he did- that much was evident in all the post race interviews. 
There were certainly moments where she contemplated sending him a message, congratulating him on another podium to add to his collection. It did feel wrong though, appearing again out of nowhere when he achieved something notable. She didn’t want to come across that she’d only be there for him when he was successful. In actuality, she really just wanted to be back in his life. Surely a week without contact wouldn’t end the multi-year friendship they had.
But after all, a lot can happen in one night. Maybe Lando would gradually just turn into a distant memory of hers- somebody that she once knew.
At COTA, Lando secured his fourth podium in a row. He’d gotten 2nd in Singapore, 2nd in Japan, 3rd in Qatar, and back up to 2nd in America. This time, Oscar doesn’t join him on the podium, Lewis does instead. Two multi world champions- one a recent 3 time champion, the other with 7 titles- and Lando right there next to them. He’d be next, she was sure he would be.
It’s quite the sight, the three men stood up on their respective steps. Lewis- the past of formula one. The man who ruled the sport for years, taking home win after win. Only challenged by the very race winner of Max Verstappen. He was the face of formula one for the time being, and likely could be for the following few years. There were only a few talents in the sport who had the potential to fight Max for those future titles- and Lando was certainly one of them. He had a good car, a teammate who could challenge and push him to be a better driver, he had the determination- the drive to win.
Mexico wasn’t anything to write home about. She tried to not watch it, getting an icky feeling each time she saw Lando on screen because the only place her mind would go to was how sweet his mouth tasted. It seemed that the only thoughts that would flood her brain each time she saw anything related to him, her body went into a sort of remembering state when all she could think about was how she’d felt that night. He ended in 5th, so maybe she should’ve just not watched the race. His face was hardly shown beyond a clip of him just before getting onto the car, and then in the post race interviews. At least she didn’t stay up all night thinking about it.
Brazil on the other hand was a race worth watching- Max in 1st, Lando in 2nd, Fernando in 3rd. The gap between Alonso and Norris is insane, especially given Fernando was a 2 time world champion with more than 20 years of experience. He’d be next, she knew it. He’ll be a world champion soon, and her only wish was that she’d be smart enough and brave enough to reach out with congratulations. She also hoped that he’d be happy to receive one from her.
Notably the worst race of the season is Las Vegas, given that Lando crashed on Lap 3. He slammed straight into a barrier, his car almost flinging backward with the power of hitting a wall at 180mph. It was the only race she didn’t want, but hearing about it afterwards sent a cold sweat down her back. A sharp inhale filled her lungs and her hand stayed attached over her gaping mouth. She didn’t check how bad the crash was initially, and wad glad when she heard he was out without any injuries.
Finally, the season finale in Abu Dhabi occurred. After such an intense season (that she’d shamefully tuned in for more than she would’ve liked to admit post Singapore), it was almost a relief when the race ended, because of the realisation that she wouldn’t have to hear about Lando for a few months, until preseason testing at least. 
With the slight friendship (and possibly to be further blossoming) she’d managed to accumulate with Oscar, she’d found out the Brit was basically doing a world tour over the winter holiday. Places such as Bali and Vietnam, then all the way over to Finland- or an adjacent. She’d be safe, the only two drivers who would be in the same continent as her would be the two actual Australian drivers- Liam in New Zealand if he counted in the f1 drivers realm.
So she took the few weeks she had off of work- which wasn’t ever really solid as it seemed her career was all over the place, she took those solid-off holiday weeks to venture out to familiarise herself better with Australia. Sydney- she knew well, Brisbane maybe even more so. Melbourne the most due to attending the grand prix there every year for the past 6 seasons. But in all her time spent in Australia, she’d never truly gotten around to exploring Western Australia.
So she did what any right minded person visiting Perth who had connections to F1 would do- she reached out to Daniel and asked for any recommendations for her holiday. But instead of simply giving her a list of places to eat, shops to visit, sights to see, he straight up invites her to spend a week at his farm.
Yep, Daniel Ricciardo, farm owner.
Obviously, she accepted the invitation due to lack of other plans and pure interest about what a f1 driver of over a decade could possibly need a farm for. So the next day, her legs awkwardly cramped up in between her suitcase and the back of the passenger seat in the taxi. Her fingers idly drummed against the window as sparse pellets of rain hit against it. The sun blared down through the glass despite the rain- clearly a perth summer was no joke when it came to heat.
The timing of the car finally slowing down just in front of Daniel’s farm/house/home situation perfectly aligned for when her phone died. Manoeuvring her feet out of the tight squeeze where her suitcase was crushing her legs was her first problem, actually picking it up to carry out of the car was a whole different one. Once again, luckily for her Daniel was standing at the door, his signature grin lighting up his face. 
After a tight hug and a quick exchange of the past few months they hadn’t seen each other for (the time post SIngapore), he picked up her suitcase with ease and lugged it inside. The inside of his house was nice, beautiful even. That was expected for a millionaire- but it wasn’t the typical too much money, not enough actual taste , it was classy and elegant, while maintaining a certain homely charm.
“This is beautiful, Dan,” She murmured, shaking her head back as she gathered her hair into a ponytail. He barked out a laugh as he kicked off his shoes, 2 scuff marks on the ground ruining the otherwise picturesque place. 
“Thank you,” He grinned, “I try my best- or more so Heidi does,” Ah, that made more sense. Not that Daniel didn’t seem capable of designing a nice place, but the fact that it was actually his girlfriend made a whole lot more sense. 
Nudging her shoes off and over to join next to his, she gently stretched out her limp to relieve the formed tension in her back, “Heidi does a fantastic job then,” Her eyes travelled around the living room, taking in each piece of wall art and decorative choice.
Daniel’s dirtied socks glided smoothly along the marble floors, “Can I get you a drink?” He hummed, one hand on the kitchen island to steady himself as the other opened the fridge door. He grabbed out a beer can for himself and so out of pure convenience and not wanting to seem ‘fussy’, she asked for the same.
The harsh, bitter taste of beer abused her throat, an unpleasant and unwelcome decision at only 3 in the afternoon. On the other hand, getting her first drink down then meant that as the night progressed further, and drinks got heavier- she’d be somewhat prepared from such a light percentage drink. 
The rest of the evening was spent outside on the balcony, sipping beer and discussing the end of the season- how it had felt to get back to racing for him since the last race she’d actually seen in person was in Singapore where he’d been replaced with Liam. 
They spoke briefly about Liam at that, Max too- mainly his dominance that season, partially about him as a person in general. They moved to speaking about Oscar’s rookie year, and then unsurprisingly, the topic landed onto Lando.
Finally, in the last hour before midnight, with her legs tucked up to her chest, she looked to her left where Daniel was in a rocking chair next to her. “I hooked up with Lando in Singapore,” She murmured, her index nail scraping along the condensation lined glass where only the last few drops of her whiskey-coke remained. “We hooked up and then I just left him there,” Daniel’s eyebrows shot up, his lips parting in shock.
“I knew that,” He eventually exhaled, his words completely different from his surprised reaction. “LN told me pretty much the day after it happened, and for the following weeks too,” Shit, that felt awful to hear. Part of her had wished that Lando had magically stopped caring the day after it had happened- she wanted it to be easy on him unlike how it was for her. It was her decision to have left, he shouldn’t have to continue to feel so deeply affected.
The wrinkles in the corners of her eyes deepened as she looked down, a comical laugh escaping her lips. “Why’d you react like that then?” Her lips feel cold as her throat remains hot from the intense burn of the vodka shots they’d stupidly taken a few hours prior. “You looked.. shocked,”
“I was,” He admitted, downing the last of his drink before resting it on the corner of his armrest, the corner of the glass hitting the wood with a clink. “ I am , I’m shocked you’re actually admitting you just abandoned the bloke after a night together. He thought you would never mention it again- never speak to him again,”
The edge of passive aggression in his voice is noticeable even to the most clueless people. It made her squirm in her seat, the palms of her hands get sweaty, and a bitter taste filled her mouth. Daniel wasn’t the type to ever get mad with anyone, or even be any bit confrontational, so the way he was speaking to her seemed so out of Ricciardo fashion.
“I know,” Her voice was barely a low hum, self disappointment pulsing through her body. “I’ve felt like shit ever since- if that means anything,” When her eyes lifted off the wood panel of the balcony fence and towards Daniel, he was looking far out towards the night sky. 
His gaze met hers though, his bottom lip grazing under his teeth. It was strange seeing him that serious. “Doesn’t really mean too much to me, I think Lando needs to hear that,” Yeah , apologising to Daniel wasn’t going to do much was it? Lando was the one she’d left.
“He actually cares?” Her voice came out more surprised and untrusting than she’d expected. The scrunch of his eyebrows and twist of his lips in confusion gets her to keep talking. “Yeah, like.. I guess I just assumed it would be just like any other hook up for him,” Her hand carded through her hair, pushing it off her forehead. 
“He cares more than anything,” Daniel murmured, a slight laugh attached to his voice. He wasn’t mad at her at all, fully understanding her scepticism about how real the younger driver’s feelings were. “I know he doesn’t seem as if he cares about each girl he gets with- but he cares about you,” Their eyes meet in a sort of sad and poetic way. 
Daniel knows better than anyone the way she feels toward Lando, how she’s felt towards the Brit for years. Up until that night in Singapore, she’d waited for the day she could look at her best friend and not feel the most excruciating twisting in her stomach and cracking of her heart because he was the one thing she wanted, and the one thing she couldn’t have.
“In Vegas when he crashed, he asked for you,” The Aussie's voice had lost its humour, any sense of fun from earlier in the night having fully faded away. “So many times. He was hysterical, couldn’t understand why you weren’t there to hold his hand,” 
Holy fucking shit. She wanted to cry, a tightening sensation formed in her throat, becoming painful to swallow. “I should’ve been there,” She bit down on the inside of her cheek, the sharp metallic taste of blood spilling onto her tongue. “I fucking should’ve reached out when I heard,” 
He squeezed her hand tightly, his thumb squishing her hand up to reach the tips of his index and middle. “You had no way to know, you weren’t expected to be there either. You have your own life, Lando needs to know that,” She can’t shake it from her head though. “You’re not in the wrong, you don’t owe him to be there whenever he needs comfort. I think he just needs to know you’re not angry at him,”
Angry? Why on earth would she be angry? Lando hadn’t done a single thing wrong to her, she did owe it to him to be there when he crashed, when he was scared and alone. “Yes I do,” Her eyebrows drew to a pinch, a look of frustration clouding over her vulnerable near crying expression.
“ You don’t”
I do, Daniel. You don’t get it. I left him, I left him there alone straight after-
“He told me he loved me,” 
That got a genuine look of shock from the Australian. “Shit. I didn’t know that,” His voice got breathy and harsh around the edges. 
“Yeah.”
“Do you love him back?”
“Yeah.”
His hand left hers, moving to rub over his face. “Jesus,” It was so quiet between them that the noise of the near midnight light breeze was louder than either of them. “Does he know that?”
The muscles in her neck tensed with a deep swallow of the spit gathering in her mouth. Gross. “No. I don’t think he knows I heard him either,” She’d never felt more shameful. Her mind had been so fuzzy with alcohol and lust that it had just been too much. “I didn’t think he was serious. I didn’t think he could seriously love me,”
God, she needed to shut up before she began bawling her eyes out to Daniel.
“Why not?” She didn’t quite know how to answer his question. There were probably a million and one things she could give as half arsed replies to why she didn’t believe she and Lando should be together. The distance, constant travelling, lack of affection and physical ties. But Daniel could see right through her, he could see her lies.
“I’m just nothing like the girls he’s been with before. I didn’t- I don’t understand why when he could have absolutely anyone in the world, he’d want me,” She corrected herself, feeling far more vulnerable then she’d ever allowed herself to be in front of anyone before.
They’re no longer looking at each other, both too focused at staring up at the stars above them. “You make him feel safe. You’re the only one he’s always felt like a real person around. He’s not a race car driver with you, he’s not famous with you, he doesn’t have to perform and impress you, to you- he’s Lando, he’s your best friend. And to him, you’re home,” 
It’s difficult to form a single thought after that. So after the conversation pulled to a complete close, they both agreed it was late and they needed their rest. With a suffocating hug and reassurances that she’ll be okay, they parted ways- Daniel into his own room and her into the spare bedroom. His snores seeped into her room, yet they weren’t what kept her from sleeping. 
Lando was. 
She swore she could hear him everywhere, even smell him. She wanted him laying down right next to her, his arms around her waist as she slept with her head on his chest. He was the only thing that could calm her down, make her mind shut up for a bit so she could just rest.
Her head had begun pounding and her mouth became infinitely dry from the excessive drinking, so with a struggle to stand up straight, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and her clammy hands gripped onto the handrails as she took each step one by one. 
Passing through the kitchen, she grabbed a glass out of a cabinet and poured a glass of cold water. She chugged it down eagerly, getting a refill before heading into the living room to sit on the couch and drink the rest. As the couch became visible to her poor sight, she saw a figure sitting at the end further away from her. A mop of curly hair was on top of the figure’s head- Daniel. 
Clearly he’d been unable to sleep like she had. Maybe he felt lonely too. Heidi was back in Portugal over the winter break, so he hadn’t seen her in a few weeks. He was probably in a similar boat as her right now.
She felt so empty after the past few weeks, and the hug she’d gotten from him only a few hours hadn’t quite been enough, so she set her glass down and stepped closer. The noise of her glass hitting the table grabbed the shadowed figure of Daniel’s attention, his head turning to face her. “Daniel,” She mumbled weakly, sprawling onto the couch next to where he was sitting and wrapped her arms loosely around him.
When he didn’t hug her back, she whined and dug her head into his chest. “Please Dan, I need a hug,” Her voice sounded so desperate as it hit her ears. “I just.. I want my brain to shut up for once, I- I’m just so tired,” 
“I’m not Daniel,” Her heart pounded in absolute panic. Her chest rose and dropped quickly as she attempted to think of all the possible explanations. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be an intruder. God, how had she been so stupid as to not switch on a light or anything before practically hurdling herself at this guy? If she died right now, it was all on her for being a thoughtless idiot. 
But in a moment of clarity where her mind considered who could possibly be at the house that wasn’t an intruder, she scanned through each person Daniel knew with curly hair and a British accent. Lewis? Didn't have curly hair. George? Also without curly hair. Ollie? Too young for Daniel to be friends with. 
Oh. 
“Lando?” A sharp exhale left her mouth as his name slipped out. She twisted her head to look up at him, his features only slightly visible in the near pitch black room. Sure enough, big green eyes and plump pink lips stood out to her. Her face crumpled, her heart thrumming in her chest. “ Lando”
He clearly had recognised her too, his lips parting as his expression softened. His eyes felt like a million knives jabbing into her, his intense stare mapping out her whole face. The smell of his cologne was harsh on her senses, yet was the most comfort she’d had in months.
“Why are you here?” Her tone sounded accusatory, which clearly wasn’t intentional. The comment landed poorly, his expression contorting strangely. Not helpful . 
“Spontaneous Australia trip,” He didn’t owe her an apology, but something was nagging at him to stay, to engage in the conversation. It was the most he’d seen of her in nearly 4 months. He couldn’t even begin to express how good it felt to hear her voice after so long. “Came to visit Dan, maybe Osc next. Dan always tells me if I’m ever in the country I can just come over.. so” He trailed off when she didn’t reply, and his mouth clamped back shut.
Just as it seemed he would get up and leave, his actions tense and rigid around her, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Quiet. Her mind finally went quiet. It was so peaceful for once. “I’m so sorry for everything,” Her voice was hardly a whisper, her mouth slightly muffled by the thick fabric of his hoodie. “I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for not contacting you, I’m sorry for ignoring you when you tried to call,” Her breaths became more frantic, tears piling up in her eyes as she looked up at him.
“I’m sorry for- for hurting you, I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” Her mouth and lips were so painfully dry, her tongue darted out to wet her lips before forcing out the final apology. Just as she was about to, his mouth opened as if he was about to talk. “Don’t say it’s okay,” 
She knew him well enough to know exactly where he was going. He would apologise for absolutely everything that had ever happened to him, even if he wasn’t the one in the wrong. “Most of all,” Her throat tensed as he stared her down intensely. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you back.” 
His lips shaped into a huge smile after a few seconds of emotionless shock, as if the news was the most impossible thing he’d ever heard.
“And you shouldn’t forgive me,” She shook her head insistently. That was another thing hse knew about him, he was the most forgiving person ever. She could absolutely ruin his life a million times and with a single ‘ I’m sorry’ , they’d return back to being best friends. 
“But-”
“You can’t,” Not only did she not believe she deserved his love, she didn’t believe she deserved any sort of forgiveness from him, much less for him to still love her after all this. All she wanted was for him to not have any hurt from the whole ordeal anymore. 
Lando tilted his head, his bottom lip tucked under his adorably gapped teeth. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” His eyes seemed impossibly bright despite the darkness, “Cause I want to love you, and it seems as if you love me too,” His right hand cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing over her chin.
That was correct, she still loved him more than anything. She could fight those feelings away, give him all the excuses under the sun as to why she wouldn’t be with him- but her heart and mind wanted different things. Logically, dating a formula one driver who’s whole life revolved around travel and constant adrenaline- her life that consisted of a lot of mundane jobs and chilling at home, they just clashed .
The illogical part of her, the part that was thinking with her heart, believed that nothing would be better than to attend races, watch from the grandstands, and kiss him after each race. She could comfort him if he had a bad race or quali, she could be there to celebrate with after a podium or even a win. 
Right now, and maybe always, what her heart wanted was significantly outweighing what she thought was good for her. “Yeah, I do love you,” It didn’t feel or sound weird like it had when she’d told Daniel about it the night before. It felt good, really good. Very right too, because in all of her years of friendship with Lando- ever since she’d realised her feelings for him- she hadn’t ever admitted to herself that she loved him. 
But of course she did, it was clear as day. If she ever heard of anyone ‘liking’ someone the way she ‘liked’ Lando, she’d know immediately it was love.
Her confession felt even better when she saw how his face managed to light up even further. 
There was more she could’ve apologised for, and she could easily keep going, but she was quickly shut up with two lips pressed up against her own. Lando tasted just as sweet as he always did, a tinge of mint presumably from gum earlier on. 
Her lips didn’t adjust into the kiss at first, until he began to pull back and her lips secured over his bottom one, keeping him there. It took a few moments to warm up to it, but her mouth starts moving in time with his. It’s so quiet in the living room that the only noise is the quiet hums and sighs they both let out. “I’m really sorry,” She murmured again
His hands moved to position her body to be straddling him, not necessarily to make the kiss sexual, but to make the angle more comfortable. “I forgive you,” His teeth tug on her bottom lip, drawing out the kiss for longer. He grinned against her lips, kissing her softer over and over. “And I love you,” He murmured again. “So- please- stop- apologising,” He kissed her in between each word, trying to push forward his point.
It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, “Okay,” Her cheeks felt hot to the touch, painted a darker shade of rosy red with each kiss. “Sorry,”
Lando groaned, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her in for more kisses. “For each time you apologise, I’m gonna shut you up with kisses,” He threatened, nudging her cheek with his nose.
“Sorry, but I’m gonna keep saying sorry then. Sorry, sorry, sorry” He kept his promise, kissing her after each and every apology. “Mmm, yeah. Sorry,” Her fingers slid into place in his mess of curls, tugging gently to keep him in place for each kiss. 
“Bad idea.” He clicked his tongue, tilting his head to avoid her kisses. “No kisses till you stop saying it,”
That worked. 
“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise,” She held out her pinky finger to further the promise. He kissed the tip of her finger and then held it tight. 
“Good,”
“Good,”
“ Good ,” His lips slotted back into place with hers, his hands resting on her hips as hers tangled further into his hair. “You’re so pretty,” He hummed, licking into her mouth with slow and calculated moves.
“Hmm, you’re prettier,” Her whole body felt hot, but so cosy on top of him. She hadn’t quite realised how tired she was until that very moment, her words slightly slurred and her eyes heavy. She rubbed at her eyes, blinking away exhaustion.
He shifted underneath her, tucking his hands under her thighs to help wrap her legs around his waist. “Arms around my neck,” He whispered, intentionally keeping his volume to a minimum so as to not wake her up more. 
Her body felt limp as she rested all her weight onto him. He lugged her upstairs, opening the door with one hand as his other arm remained around her waist. “Lannnn,” She whined as she pressed more kisses to his neck. 
“Yeah baby?” He murmured as he laid her down on the bed, her body heavy and weak as it hit the mattress. “What’s up?” Her arms dropped down to her sides as they unlinked from around his neck.
“Stay,” It wasn’t a suggestion or question, more an incredulously desperate request. “Please, want you to stay,” She tugged at the hem of his shirt, wrapping it around her fingers.
He gave her a knowing look before nudging her over in the bed, crawling under the sheets next to her. “You’re not going to walk out this time?” He raised his eyebrows, his teeth poking out over his bottom lip when he grinned.
“I’m gonna say it,”
“Don’t” His voice went serious.
“I’m gonna say it,”
“Do.. not.. say.. It,”
“..Sorry,”
Lando let out a long groan, hauling himself half on top of her to smother her with his arms. “You are such a pain in my ass,” 
“You love me,” She pecked him, fighting back sleep just so she could keep kissing him
“I do love you,” He caved and removed his arms, placing them on either side of her face to corner her and kiss all over her flushed face.
“I love you more,” 
“Not possible,” He tutted, “And you need to sleep- now,” He nuzzled into her neck, his nose bumping against her ear. 
“I just wanna stay up kissing,” She scrunched her nose up, her lip raising in disappointment. 
Lando’s laugh was breathy against her skin, his hand idly swiping across her stomach to maintain some sort of touch. “Tomorrow. We’ll spend all of tomorrow kissing- I promise,”
That was satisfactory enough. She stared up at the ceiling, a complete different scenario from when she’d done exactly this last time with Lando laying on her. This time, there wasn’t a single cloud of doubt in her mind. She knew how much he loved her, she felt right being so close to him, not worried for how things might change between them and if it would be awful the day after. She just needed to keep faith and keep communication.
As she felt her eyelids getting too heavy to keep hers open, she swiped her hand over Lando’s forehead to push his hair up and place a kiss there. He looked up at her slightly, and with a smile, “Oscar lives in Melbourne,” He looked confused, probably thinking that he was mishearing her from lack of rest. “Huh?” His voice all deep and scruffy from sleep. 
“The flight from Perth to Melbourne is over 3 hours- you can’t really just pop down the street to go visit Oscar,” Lando laughed weakly at that. He shrugged, wiggling up closer towards her so his chin was over her shoulder.
“He’ll come visit- he’ll be ecstatic to know that we’re on good terms again,” Her hand drifted up under his shirt, her thumbs pressing into the joints of his back.
“Oscar and ecstatic are two words that absolutely do not go together,” She mused, a complete disconnect from her mind and whatever her hand was doing. All she knew was that Lando was enjoying it based on the noises he was letting out.
“A half smile may dance across his mouth at the joyous information,” God , Lando had such a strange way with words. 
“You’re weird ,” 
“You love me,”
“I really do,”
290 notes · View notes
theresawtf · 1 day
Text
❀᭢᜴꤬ jakey poo
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summary: only after jake had left for a three year australian program for college, he had come back as the intimidating bad boy everyone wants, but when it came to relationships he can never settle for anyone but you. he didnt know it but he always treated you differently than the other random girls he would hook up with. but the only thing keeping you guys apart was the fact that you were jungwoo’s younger sister…
pairing: stoner jake x artmajor reader
warning(s)- SMUT (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), (sorta kinda proof read), childhood friends to lovers, brothers best friend troupe, jake is slut coded, reader doesn't give af, mentions of drugs, use of drugs (its stoner jake wtf were you expecting?), facesitting, reader&jake almost gets caught by jungwoo, p in v, unprotected sex (WEAR A FUCKING CONDOM PLEASE), JAKE IS A SLUUUUTT!! thats about it 🥸 angst if you squint with a happy ending
featuring- jungwoo as readers brother, sakura from le sserafim.
song suggestions: burnin’ for you by blue oyster cult, circles by ptv, please please please let me get what i want by deftones (the cover), dramamine by modest mouse
word count: 6k+
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after a long three lonely years, your brother and his best friend are finally returning, you could remember all the precious memories that you and the boys always hanging out, but one thing you would never forget was jungwoo’s words before introducing you to jake.
“your not allowed to date any of my friends ever, so dont even think about it.” it’s seems like he knew exactly what would happen because as soon as you saw the tall nerdy boy next to your brother you practically had hearts in your eyes every time you saw him at your house, in the yard, at the table for breakfast. anywhere your brother was— so was jake.
as you and jake grew up he had always treated you differently than most people, he’d always pick tiny flowers for you and let you put them in his hair or he would stall jungwoo from leaving you at school if you had extra circular activities so he could walk you home. he always made sure you were okay if jungwoo was being mean and would always help you cheer up. he didnt realize it till he left that he always had some feelings towards you but he would never say them out loud. as for jake also heard familiar words from jungwoo..
“listen if you ever try dating my sister or anything of that sort, i’ll actually kill you bro” of course jake didn’t take those feeling to heart until he saw you on a facetime call with jungwoo while they were both in australia for an exchange program. he saw how mature and confident you got, not to mention the fact that you’d never judge him even if jungwoo was literally talking shit about him to you, you never said anything bad about him. he knew his behavior wasnt the best once he left high school and started college somewhere far away from his home town, of course people change but how did you not?? he was completely infatuated with the fact that you were just the same as he remembered, you had become one if his genuine best friends.
it was the night before he was supposed to see you since he’s come home, of course he wanted to visit his family and layla but there was a tugging at his heart where he knew he needed to see you, or even just to speak to you. who knows maybe you would actually hate him once you finally saw him after all these years but he couldn’t imagine you being any different then how you always have been. he gathered his gift for you from australia, he got a simple necklace with a j engraved on the back, he knew what it looked like but he also knew you. you knew that he wasnt allowed to date you and you werent allowed to date your brothers friends but things can always change and with that he went and grabbed paper to roll you a fresh joint, if he could some how convince jungwoo that youve changed all on your own he wouldnt mind the thought of jake being closer to you in anyway possible.
now in reality jake didnt take into consideration that maybe youve been trying to push your feelings of him away, he was your childhood crush there was always going to be some lingering feelings but you knew deep down if he wanted to try something with you he would. he simply could not have any feelings whatsoever but you knew if you didnt tell him now, you wouldnt be able to get these feelings out for good. and if you release them they wouldnt have to both you for your first year at college. what you didnt know was that jake had enrolled into the same college which was the same one you were going to. and for one of your final projects for your portfolio you had written letters to all of those whom you felt strong feelings towards and leave it at what you feel in that moment, not thinking of the future just that moment. the feelings for that person show show how you feel about them if you think about it in the present.
that being said you knew there was several people you could write to but you knew there was truly one person that you didnt quite know exactly how you feel about them and that was jake so for your gift you prepared your letter assignment, after prepping the final copy and wrapping up the other goodies you had gotten for jungwoo and jake and set them out for when they arrive.
❀᭢᜴꤬⠀
“hey kid” jungwoo said while going in for a hug, it had been too long since you’d seen him. it seems like they were still the same annoying smelly boys you remembered from middle school, for them being gone for three years we always manage to get along with each other. while your parents caught up with jungwoo, you manage to catch jake looking you up and down. he was seeing how much you’ve grown since he left, he always knew you had a crush on him but part of him knew he wouldn’t know how to define these feelings he had for you.
“nice seeing you y/n, you get shorter or something?” he said messing up your hair just the tiniest bit. he knew it made you mad but of course it was jake, how could you get mad at him. you finally got him back, but to focus on your assignments you wanted to detach any lingering feelings you could have from the past.
they had talked to your parents for a bit before going up to bed to catch up on sleep, you couldnt hide the fact that you were a bit bummed out but you knew that jet lag can be gnarly, you left it to them. if anything it gave you more time to finish your portfolio assignments.
❀᭢᜴꤬⠀
you had been preparing for bed since you’d been putting the work in for your preparation for classes, even though you had the whole summer to prepare you wanted to make sure it was perfect and still have time for your friends. breaking you from your thoughts you heard a knock, it shocked you because jungwoo never bothered with knocking. you went to open the door but you turned and saw the outline of jake in your window, it was a little to convenient for him to get to your room so easily. it also didnt help that jungwoos room was down the hall and the roof connected so it was always a secret place for the both of you. it doesn’t phase you anymore but also why did everything pick up the same after he came back, the privilege of being able to connect with him the same way as children you can as adults as well. it makes things so much harder to push everything out, especially your feelings for him.
“aren’t you cold out here? what are you doing out here??” you began questioning him before he could say anything. he once again checked you out without jungwoo’s protective eyes watching.
“just come join me, i have a present for you. grab a blanket for me if your so worried about me.” he had said while smirking motioning for you to come sit outside for a bit; try to catch up as much as you guys could before jungwoo assumedly wakes up.
“fine bossy.” you quickly grabbed a blanket and your presents to the boys but only leaving jungwoos close to your window so you wouldnt forget about it. you sat next to him giving a bit of space but once you stilled he had scoot closer to you and covered the both of you. but to you it was just for the warmth, but to him he just wanted to be as close as he could to you; he missed you more than you could imagine.
there was nothing that could prepare you for what was coming next but now that you were here with him you feel like you get the closure you had been searching for with him.
“here i got you this, open it” jake handed you a drawstring bag and what seemed to be a JOINT. being new to the fact that they are stoner and have developed a reputation for smoking back in aussie now its just so natural for them to pull this type of behavior and it be normal for them, its still unfamiliar to you for them to be doing such things. but despite being surprised with the joint you began to pull the bag apart while watching the strings sink back into the baggie, the bag had been way heavier than you had anticipated, it was a necklace that had a beautiful design and on the back there was a j engraved on the back.
“jake i can't accept this, how much was it i can pay you back after i get paid.” you tried to reason with him but he shook his head and laughed thinking the reaction was just so you and absolutely adored the way you looked.
“very funny, but i'm pretty sure that's not how gifts work, unless you use that on all of your brothers friends. no wonder you have so much nice shit.” he teased you causing you to lightly hit his arm. you had admired the necklace for a second before responding. he knew you didn’t know many of jungwoos friends the way you know him and of course he liked it that way, in all honesty he wouldn’t want it any other way.
“jake seriously, thank you so much i really do love it. its beautiful.” you smiled at him and he reached towards the necklace to put on you. “here let me help darling.” he said quickly as if he was hiding what he was saying from himself and you. you almost didnt catch it, it was so fast. jake’s hands graze your neck and move your hair for you you barley even had to turn that how close you guys were together. he finished and let his hand linger on your neck before glancing from your eyes to your lips back to your eyes.
you weren’t oblivious to what jake was wanting but you didn’t know to what extent, you’ve always had a crush on him but if you did anything with him there was always the strong possibility that jake wouldn’t reciprocate any of the feelings. and thats something you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to risk that and yet here you were mere centimeters away from your brothers best friend, something in jake had him shake back into reality and tuck your hair behind your ear. you couldn’t say you were disappointed because that would mean you wanted something more even thought jungwoo would never allow it.
“so pretty girl did you want to try smoking if not its okay, its up to you pretty.” he pulled out a lighter and held it the same hand with the joint. waiting for your response, he never pushed you to do something you didn’t want, jungwoo would constantly tease you for being scared of things but once jake heard about it he would explain everything logically so you wouldn’t have to worry. there were so many things that you could say made you fall for him but there was never a way to exactly pinpoint that moment but that was in the past, your not that little girl anymore. you nodded “sure it couldn’t hurt.” you said with a smile as you snuggled into the blanket due to the wind picking up.
jake began to light the joint with ease even with the wind, the lighter illuminated his features while he scoot impossibly closer to you and put his arm around you to keep you warm. he went and took a couple of hits before handing it to you, you inspect the joint before hesitating to take a hit. “just suck it lightly or else you’ll start coughing.” he explained while you nodded and begin to take a hit, and immediately after you had a coughing fit which made jake giggle but he rubbed your back as you recovered, god how was he so hot just taking care of you while you both smoke.
you couldnt even begin to guess whats going on with jake but you knew he was fighting with himself on the inside, but to jakes understanding it was you. nothing else really matter to him, school was always easy for him, girls were always easy to get and he was set for life in terms of funds for his smoking (issue) but none of that filled that part of him that he desperately was trying to find once he left for college. now that he’s back home there is nothing but overfill, you mights not have known it but he could never point it out to jungwoo, but you know what jungwoo isnt here. you were both legal adults with lives of your own, jungwoo will have to deal with the decision jake is about to make. with the drugs in both your systems it had you both talking about anything and everything.
“doll listen-“ “jake you can not keep up these nicknames someone can hear you, you know that the walls are thinner than paper unfortunately..” you began to ramble as he takes your cheek into his palm, his thumb caressing your cheek slowly, he gains your attention and continues.
“you know i used to really like you growing up right?” he keeps his hand on you slowly beginning to moving them in between your neck and jawline, just from that you get tingles all over and you take a hit successfully without coughing. you shook your head turning towards him to get some more clarification passing the joint to him but he declines.
“i've liked you since the first day i met you. then jungwoo told me if i ever dated you, he would actually chop my nuts off…” he trails off while you giggle at him, there was something so he was searching for in his head, to which he grabbed the joint from you and put it out on the roof.
“i also never had the courage to actually tell you before but-“ you cut him off before he could say anything else by crashing your lips on his, he felt like he was starved practically devouring your lips with his own. the taste of you was enough to send him to cloud 9 for a permanent vacation. it took everything in him to not to press forward right here on the roof top letting the whole neighborhood who you truly belonged to let alone the your family finding out that there was anything going on between you guys in the first place.
jake pulled away from the kiss but before he fully pulled away he places a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips and one more gently on your lips, it was sweet not harsh and fast as the other but more passion in the one kiss small kiss than he has during this confession.
“jake if you read the letter you’ll understand how i feel about you- how ive always felt about you” you say pulling yourself away from his grasp putting some distance between each other, not wanting to confuse each other any further.
“i think you should read it before we continue any of this” you gesture your hands towards the both of you. once again jake had that pretty boy smile nodding his head letting you think you have any control of this because he wants you that badly. and in all honesty jake would wait forever for you to let him have his way with you. but only if you wanted it back in return, and little did you know he already knew.
“go inside pretty girl, its getting cold and i have someones letter to reread.” he assisted you to your window and said his goodnights to you as you closed the window and made sure it was locked. you had no idea about this effect you had on him, and he was going to let anyone or anything get in the way of you guys.
you began to head to bed trying to process all of the things that happened in the short span of the day. you were glad that your brother was home but what you didn’t expect was his best friend to confess he’s been in love with you since even before you’ve had a crush on him.
oh god you were never finishing this project if this was the outcome for confessing your more heartfelt feelings you couldn’t imagine how the rest of the school year would go and its only the middle of summer break…
❀᭢᜴꤬⠀
if anything this summer has been a breeze up until its jake being less and less secretive about this little thing you guys have going on. you’ll be out hanging out with jungwoo as normal jake will tag along too, but this time he’s leaving lingering touches on your waist and slipping out sweet nicknames in front of jungwoo, practically telling him that something was up between you two. but also its been more than easy to hide it from him as well, ever since jungwoo reconnected with sakura he’s been head over heels with this women, finding more and more ways to sneak into her sorority house without the other members getting mad (how can they be mad if they dont know?)
while only means that the house is more than likely empty and with jungwoo gone your parents felt more comfortable if jake would stay in the guest bedroom at the house while you were home alone, which actually turned into you waking with jakes head in between your legs.
he wouldn’t let any of this disturb you from your work though, he was always willing to leave you be while you have to work hard to finish all your projects. but from time to time he would start reciting certain sentences from your letter to get you all stirred up. he loved knowing everything about you and he wanted to learn everything else, anything he possibly could learn about you.
he found himself yearning to be around you while you were finishing your final project, wanting to keep you near him as much as possible. he’s never found himself attached to anyone like this before, there has never been a girl he’s hooked up with that has had him in such much pure infatuation before he really doesn’t know what he wants other than to make sure youre happy and taken care of. of course he was smart he had all a’s and he rarely needed help for assignments but he couldn’t quite figure out what spell it is that you had put on him in order to be this in love with him.
the sun just began to peak out from the windows and your parents always were out the door super late at night till the early morning so they can be there for you during the day. which mean jake was heading into your room to join you for the morning, meaning he was ready to start your morning right.
“babyyy its cold cmere” you began to whine as jakes warm hand began to wrap around you till you were warm enough for him to start scooting down towards your hips leaving firm wet kisses all the way down just before the hem of your underwear, fiddling with it waiting for you to urge him to continue further. not wanting to waste anymore time you lifted your hips to where his palms is placed over your entrance earning a respective moan from your mouth. he quickly leaned up and kissed your lips as he pushes your underwear down to your ankles before heading down to pleasure you in any way he can, these early mornings were practice for him, learning everything that you liked, it was always for your own pleasure never his own. why would he care when he can fuck you as much as he wanted all night long, just as long as jungwoo never finds out.
jake begins to rub your thighs as he hooks his hands around your thighs to keep them spread as wide as he can get you, he places open mouth kisses all along your where your thighs and hole meet. he changes from kitten licks to longs strides against your clit just barely working you up, he added a couple of fingers in to the mix to keep you going, but he couldn’t get enough of your taste at this point he felt like there was so much he wanted and all of it was you, he wanted to be entirely suffocated into you. his hands begin to grip your hips trying to keep them down as he pushes his face further into your hole to where his soft nose was bumping against your clit, but to your surprise it wasn’t doing it for you, something needed to be different no matter how much you grind into his face, it wasn’t enough.
“mhmf ja-ake please i-“ jake begins to lift his head his lips leave a pop from your wetness, he tries to read your body and what it wants. “want more baby, m’ want to top please.” was all you could manage to get out, how could you when his hands kept on your clit as he spit into your hole wanting more access to finger you even more before flipping you so you could finish your high.
“okay baby just a little bit more for me okay- mmf you taste to fucking good.” he says lifting his head up and down not getting enough from eating you out, he cant wait to see whats its like to eat you out entirely. he pulls away from you entirely and begins to strip you entirely and you do the same for him, not wanting the moment to stop, he starts to lay down and pull you down towards him and you kinda just hover over his lips, you can feel his breath as he blows against your wetness causing you to stifle a moan before he speaks.
“baby you gotta sit down baby, i cant taste you at all.” he tries to lick any part of your hole but nothing gets touched. “mmh but-“ he already knew you were always so shy about things like this being so intimidating, he was always there to give a little a little push. he wouldn’t mind suffocating by your pussy, he wrapped his hands around your thighs and pulled you all the way down so there was no room for breathing, all he wanted was you and now he was naked on the bed eating you out as the sun came up, what more can this man want. the answer wasn’t so simple but as long as you were with him, he wouldn’t care what would happen to him.
just as you were about to finish you heard a door slam and from the sounds of it, it was jungwoo and sakura. but you didn’t want to risk anything happening, jungwoo would kill us if he found us wether sakura was there or not. but for fucks sakes the one time jungwoo magically decides to come home is when you were pussy deep on jakes face and you weren’t stoping any time soon, you grab on to jakes hair and continue to roll your hips as jakes tongue continues to prod at your clenching hole.
“hmf fuck jake please more please m’ almost there.” the thought of you getting caught was no where in sight, you couldn’t care any longer if anyone could hear anything pertaining you or jake. at this point there is nothing else you cared about all you could think about the way his mouth was moving on you right now. you were in heaven every ache in your body was washing way, the grip jake had on your hips was like he wanted to be permanently attached to your other set of lips. your hips begin to stutter and your orgasm spasms all over jakes face as he tries to lick up all he can before it spreads down to your sheets. you finally manage to tear away from jakes lips to finally let him breathe before doing anything further.
“mh baby are you okay?” you wiped up jakes face as he continued to catch his breath. his chest rises and lowers as you sat down on his waist not noticing the rock hard cock that kept tapping your ass. “did you hear the door too?” was all he managed to let out before sitting up slightly, putting his weight on this elbows behind him and admiring you sitting pretty on him.
“yea, it sounded like jungwoo and possibly sakura..” you began to pause not knowing how to word what you wanted to say but the words came out anyways “..but i couldn’t care who hears us at this point, im done hiding this.” you start lifting your hips to line up with his twitching cock, jake released a sigh as you continue to slide down his thickness, letting your plum ass sink all the way down taking him in perfectly. you guys could hear foot steps around the house as you kept going raising your hips and dropping them hard trying to get some noises out of jake, he would never let you get caught but he was really losing this little game you decided to play. but jake was not one for games, except when it came to you. while you go to raise your hips once more he lift his hips into yours as soon as you sank down and you couldn’t help but to let out a vocal moan “mmf-fuck jake”
as soon as the words left your mouth, you stilled your hips and your eyes widened, and there he was with that stupid smile as he flipped the two of you as he continued to ram his hips into you as he kissed your lips making sure to shut you up, he didn’t care if jungwoo walked into the room at least then the relationship wasn’t a secret— then he could truly fuck you whenever he wanted.
“baby you better watch your words or else we will have an audience soon.” he leaned in licking your ear going down kiss you once more on the lips. his thrust became sloppier as time went on and your walls began to flutter, you both with more than ready to release when you heard a knock on your door that didn’t stop jake from keeping his pace while he signaled you to answer the door.
“f-fucking go away” was all you could think of as you continue to chase your high.
“jeez” you could hear sakura on the other side of the door, followed by the closing of the door across the hall— that being jungwoo’s room meant he was more than likely going to put two and two together. there was more of a possibility of you both getting caught if sakura tells him.
with jake never stopping you both began to unravel and jake collapses on you and begins to kiss your face and all over your neck down your shoulders to your tummy and hips, wanting you to relax as best as you can not letting you over work yourself.
“dont worry about them alright. they’ll never figure it out.” jake began to say as you shake your head.
“are you crazy, who else would hear skin slapping and moaning YOUR name and not assume we were having sex, let alone whatever this is between us” you gesture to the two of you, not wanting jungwoo to break up whatever you had with jake, because as much as you wanted to have faith in your relationship with jake, you knew he was always going to think its a game.
“oh doll its fine, you act like he hasn’t done stupid shit at your age too, i mean us being together shouldn’t bother him anymore.” you couldn’t just let jake keep getting away with this anymore than you guys already have, if he wasn’t going to finally make things official then why bother in the first place. you were breaking this off before it could crush your heart anymore than it already did.
“well if you think us is also stupid then we should stop this now, im not doing this any more— i just cant jake.” you began to sit up and put clothes on leaving jake on the bed naked looking a little confused. but before he said anything he gathered his thoughts not wanting you to over think this any longer.
he sat up, tugging you towards him before speaking, his full attention on you as you sat with him. “baby i didn’t mean it like that, i want you more than anything i’ve wanted in a while..” he paused before continuing.
“.. and from now on im not letting anything or anyone get in the way of having you by my side, not even jungwoo.” that last part came out more like a promise.
he reached for your hands pulling them close to his hands placing kisses along your knuckles. “will you be my girlfriend? i can’t imagine my life without you baby, please don’t think i don’t want to be with you. i would do anything for us to stay together, even if jungwoo wants to beat my ass.”
you chuckled at him and nodded, feeling like this has been something some magical wish that has been finally granted, you reached out and wrapped your arms around jakes neck and kisses him as he began to lay back down with your lips on his. he can finally die a happy man with his dream girl.
“alright baby, lets clean you up and go see what those two want, yeah?” jake insisted as he began kissing you and walking into the bathroom, the only possible think you had over your brother was your own bathroom (that and his best friend is wrapped around your finger)
❀᭢᜴꤬⠀
after your close encounter with sakura and jungwoo you insisted jake leave only for him to chase you out of your room to go hang out with jungwoo, the whole way down there was a pit building in your stomach, what if jungwoo knew what sakura had potentially heard, that meant anything you could have had with jake would be gone, but nonetheless you had to face him some how after this.
with jake leading the way, you hung back slowly trailing behind, but before you could process anything you could smell a familiar scent— you found jake taking a lit blunt from jungwoo, as jungwoo was exhaling he locked eyes with you can nearly choked on the smoke.
“i swear if you tell mom-“ jake was quick to cut jungwoo off at your defence.
“you act like we weren’t doing the same shit at her age, she’s fine” he said passing the blunt to offer to you, but you shake your head about to speak.
“mom can barely recognize the fact that you bring sakura over practically every night, why would i start snitching now?” you explained while sakura shrugged in agreement offering you the blunt before passing it in the circle again— to which you accepted taking in the smoke a tiny bit before almost coughing. which had jungwoo wide eye looking at you and sakura, shaking his head before you could pass the blunt to jake as he left lingering touches on your hand as you pulled away, as jungwoo and sakura began making small talk with you and jake, but in all honesty it seemed like nothing was wrong which made you feel ten times better.
“so are you two together?” sakuras words could silence a room faster than your thoughts could keep up with. immediately you shake your head and jake looked at you for a split second and nods. jungwoo immediately turns to jake then to you and starts putting two and two together before handing the blunt to you, expecting a response to what jake means.”
“ive had a crush on y/n since middle school to be honest…” jake turn towards you before continuing. “...but she wont admit it till she knows it okay with her brother.” thats it, you AND jake were done for— there was no way that jungwoo; the brother who as always protected you for any reason you needed, he was always going to be there for you, but would he really be okay with the fact that you have been messing around with his best friend.
“jungwoo has more shit to deal with rather than who his sister and friends are dating..” sakura turned to jungwoo reading his already upset facial expression, “its that right baby?” she questioned him, making sure you get an immediate answer. she already liked the two of you together, if she could get you two together than you guys wouldn’t have to hide it anymore to which jake was eternally grateful for.
“not that i want to control your life but.. at least i know you are safe with this little shit.” jungwoo left it at that as he put the blunt out, as he wrapped his hands around sakura’s waist and began to walk inside shutting the sliding glass door afterwards.
you turn to jake smacking his arm before he could say anything, “what the hell was that?? how did you get him to just let us be??” you began to question him, thoughts running a million miles an hour but jake takes your cheek into his hand caressing it ever so gently, as if he could loose you at any moment. but now he really had nothing to worry about.
“i didn’t know anything, but i know i was more nervous than you were; i thought jungwoo was gonna kill me just with his glare.” he explained pulling you in closer. “but i needed to tell him, i didnt want anything keeping me from my girl.”
for the first time it feels like you could finally be free with your feelings, not wondering what jungwoo was thinking. you began to wrapping your arms around your boyfriends neck pulling him impossibly closer.
“oh jakey poo your so dumb” pulling him into a hug as he rubbed the small of your back with one hand then going to mess up your hair with the other.
“oh now it’s jakey poo.” he points out as you roll your eyes and pull him into a kiss before guiding you inside.
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masterlist
tag list- @jakeshotpocket @soobinsnumber1
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fandomnerd9602 · 16 hours
Text
Square Dance: Two Step
Country!Wanda x Male!Reader
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It all started when your best friend Pietro ‘Piet’ Maximoff invited you to leave the city for a week. He saw how much city life and work was wearing you down, how much you needed a detox from all of the stress and anxiety.
He picked you up in his pick up truck from your apartment on a Sunday morning. Piet was a track star in college, full ride, and your best friend / roommate. Now he works as a mechanic in his home town. He never really talked about home but he loved it.
“I promise, pal” your Southern accented friend told you, “you’re gonna love it. I’m taking you to the best watering hole in the area tonight.”
“Are you still trying to get me to settle down?” You laughed.
“I just wanna see my bud happy. A little tail can help that” he gives you a playful wink.
First things first he helped you drop off your stuff at the guest room in his modest two story homestead. “Sorry I can’t give you the master bedroom” he chuckled, “my traveling sister came back to town, she called dibs”
“I don’t mind.” You said with a shrug, “your sis deserves it” You never met Piet’s sister but you did know about their constant teasing due to having seen their text exchanges.
“Come on, bud” he said practically pulling you out the door. “Let’s live a little!”
You and Piet made your way to the local watering hole and dance hall. Didn’t take long for Piet to make the rounds and chat up a couple people.
“Does Crystal approve of you being here?” you asked your pal with a laugh.
“Speak of the angel and she’ll appear” he responded as his longtime girlfriend made her way towards the two of you. Didn’t take long for Piet and her to go to the dance floor.
The band took to the small stage a second later. The announcer made his way to the microphone.
“Evening fellas, ladies, please give a nice warm applause to our guest singer the Good Witch, Scarlett.”
And with that introduction, the most beautiful woman you had ever seen made her way to the microphone. Her confidence, the sort of kind way she carried herself, it made your heart beat fast.
“Howdy everyone” she said with a southern twang. “Glad to see so many familiar faces in the audience…”
Her eyes locked with yours. Her eyes looked at you with pure adoration. A small smile made its way across her face.
“And so new faces too” she gave you a little wink, “so let’s start shall we?”
Her keyboardist began playing a simple melody:
(Can Love Stand the Test - Don Henley & Bonnie Raitt)
Did I lose your love a long time ago
Or did I just wear it out? Baby, I don't know
Seems like anymore we're not on the same page
In the same book, or on the same stage
We say the words, but they feel all wrong
Like a happy blues, like a sad love song
How two people can bow and scrape
For every shred of tenderness
Can love stand the test
Of times that surround us
Memories that astound us
Joy and happiness
Can love stand the test?
Her eyes were locked on you. Did she feel some sort of connection to you, as you could feel with her? You hadn’t spoken a word and yet it was like you knew her somehow.
We said forever, for always, for good
But the years were not impressed
Can love stand the test
Of time that surrounds us
Moments that astound us?
Can love stand the test
Of time that surrounds us
Moments that astound us?
Joy and happiness
Joy and happiness
Joy and happiness
The audience cheered as the song ended. The mystery singer offered a humble little bow. “Alright” she said with a giggle, “who’s ready for a little square dancing, huh?”
The crowd cheered and began asking for their own partners as the singer got off the stage and began making her own way towards you. Everyone else faded away, it was like it was only you and her in that entire watering hole.
“Howdy there” she flashed a gentle smile at you
“H-Howdy” you managed to answer back.
“You’re not from around here are ya?” her twang just made your heart flutter.
“No. I’m in town for a couple days”
“Well City Boy” she gave a little twirl in her hips, “do you wanna dance?”
“I-I got like two left feet” you said with a little embarrassment. She only giggled in response and took your hands.
“Don’t worry” she reassured you, “just follow my lead”
You and this amazing gal danced a couple square dances together that night. Time seemed to blur, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper into what felt like love. You could spend an eternity on that dance floor with her and it wouldn’t feel like enough time with her.
The way she smiled those pearly whites at you. The way her reddish brown hair bounced. The way she looked at you with those emerald green eyes that made your heart beat practically out of your chest. You didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about someone so fast.
Sadly the song came to an end. She offered you a quick bow and a tip of her own hat to you. “Ya know” she smiled at you, “you sure can dance, city boy”
“You’re not too bad yourself, ma’am” you complimented her back.
“How long you in town for?” She drew a little closer to you.
“A week, maybe a little longer”
“That’s an awful long time” she wrapped her arms around your neck, yours wrapped around her waist.
“M-my name’s Y/N”
She offered a gentle, sincere smile, “my name’s-”
“Wanda?” Piet spoke up, staring in shock at you and the gal before you. She gave a slightly embarrassed tip of the hat to Piet.
“Hey bro” Wanda said to Piet
“I see you met my bud Y/N” Piet said.
“He’s a great dancer” she answered back, giving you a gentle smile.
Part of you was horrified. Another part of you was on cloud nine. Your life was supposed to be structured, not on a whim. And yet here you were. Not only had you fallen in love on your first night out of the city, you had fallen for your best friend’s sister.
To Be Continued…
Tags: @lifespectator @aloneodi @deafeningsharkslimeempath @iamnicodemus @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7
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bisexualiteaa · 2 days
Note
Hi honey, I just discovered your Cooper fics today and oh my gods. They're incredible, I love the way you write him ❤️. I was wondering, if you're still taking requests that is (no pressure like), if you could do a sub! Cooper x reader? Preferably male!reader or with male genitalia, but fem is totally okay if you're not comfortable with that 😁. I just think Coop with a taller, more muscular partner is neat.
I'm thinking the reader was secretly married to Coop and Barb beforehand, but lost part of their memories after they became a ghoul and one of the best bounty hunters around, wearing a mask. And all they remember about Coop is how beautiful his eyes were (Walton Goggins has the most gorgeous eyes ever, I swear 😫) So the reader wants the head too and tags along with the gang, eventually getting closer to Cooper. During a fight, reader gets hurt and Coop comes over to help them, but reader is finally close enough to properly see his eyes and realises it's him. Coop takes off the mask, reader remembers, there's tears, kisses, and eventually super soft, subby sex.
So, really just really angsty, then fluffy when they find each other after 200 years. Reader taking care of our baby girl Coop, and him just accepting the love and being a pillow princess. Maybe a little overstim and edging if we're feeling spicy 😉.
I'm so sick for this man, it's unhealthy. Thanks again for your amazing work, love. I absolutely made my day better! (Sorry for how long this ask is 🙃).
It’s Been a Long, Long Time
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Cooper Howard x Ghoul Fem Reader (angst-fluff!)
CW: pre-ghoul Cooper, established relationship, reader and Cooper were married and had a child together, character death, cursing, angst!! But don’t worry, it’s a happy ending, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from the TV series
AN: not me posting this at 3am before I leave for a trip for the weekend, I feel like I’ve depraved y’all! 😂 I wanted to post this to give y’all some good Cooper Content ™️ before I go on a three day hiatus for vacation! 🥺 Thank you all to the people who have submitted asks, I promise I am still working on them/towards getting to them! ❤️ In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy this one! @kinatanhi I hope I did your request justice! I know it’s a little tweaked from what you sent in and forgive me, I wrote this literally an hour ago at 2am because it finally came to me what I wanted to write, but seeing as it was written at 2am, y’all please forgive me if it isn’t my best work, I tried my best lol. 😭❤️
You smiled happily as you danced with your husband in your shared, quaint little kitchen, his hands coming to rest at your waist as they always did, and your arms looped around his neck. You were thankful that the producers on set of his movie, as well as his agent, allowed him to come home early in order to celebrate your birthday with you. You stood smiling up at him as you two danced- well, more like swayed, to the slow music playing from the radio. You lay your head against his chest, smiling as your eyes set on the gorgeous flowers that were lying on the kitchen counter that he brought home just for you. You smiled up at him when you caught him staring down at you with nothing but love and adoration in his gaze. “What’s that look for, hmm?” You asked with a playful smile, making him chuckle and flash that gorgeous smile of his that you loved so much, almost as much as his eyes that you swore you could be lost in forever. “Nothin’, just that I’m lucky enough to have married the most beautiful woman on this earth” he said, making you hum appreciatively at his cute answer. “Oh stop it, you charmer you” you replied, making him scoff in fake offense, making you giggle at his dramatics. “I’ll have you know I don’t go throwin’ that ‘round willy-nilly, little lady” he assured, making you smile wider at him as you laughed. “I know, I’m a lucky woman to call you my husband” you replied sweetly, getting up on your tip toes to kiss him as you looped your arms around his neck once more.
Those were better days, days when things were so simple, times where all you had to worry about was nothing more than how long the pie was in the oven, or how your baby was doing. It was a pleasant memory, one you’d never forget as the last time you’d seen your husband since the war. That night flooded your memories each time you’d lay down to close your sunken in eyes, they were the only thing about you now that remained as human as they were back before you became a ghoul. You swore to yourself that you’d find him one day, swore that you would kill the bastards that started all this, that took your baby girl away from you before she had a chance at a good life and separated you from your husband. You prayed each and every night that he was still out there, still alive somewhere, roaming the wastelands like you were. You knew it was doubtful at best, maybe it was better if he wasn’t alive to live through the shit you have, to see the way you look, but one could only hope for the better things. You no longer looked the same way you used to back then. Your soft, nearly perfect skin was now marred and leathery, your teeth yellowed from radiation exposure, poor diet and lack of ability to actually care for them, and your nose was now missing completely from your face, a deep hole sitting where the cartilaginous appendage once did. You wondered if he would even love you still in this state, if he’d even recognize you. You couldn’t blame him if he didn’t, you weren’t that same woman anymore physically or emotionally. Anger and vengeance had a hold on your heart like a vice death grip, you were kind to those who deserved it sure, but to those who crossed you? Those who hurt you? Let’s just say there’s a reason you’re a feared bounty hunter out here in the wastelands and not in a vault somewhere.
You were walking into Filly one late morning, coming to pay a visit with Ma June to see if there was anything she needed, any bounty she may have had for you for some extra caps. Your supply of chems to keep you from going feral was running low, you were down to your last bottle in your inhaler, and in desperate need of more. As you strode into town, you pulled your bandana up over your nose, effectively covering your face below your eyes, your large hat casting a shadow on the rest. You weaved your way through the vendors as they were trying to shove goods at you and anyone who was behind or around you. As you waded though, your ears caught the sound of a deep, southern accent that sounded awfully familiar to you. “I ain’t interested unless you got RadAway” he spoke harshly to the vendor haggling him, and you had to do a double take. He sounded just like your husband. You turned in the hopes to place a body to the voice but by the time you could, he was already lost into the crowd, impossible to find amongst the sea of people now that he wasn’t speaking to anyone anymore.
You huffed to yourself, wondering if maybe you were just hearing things, or maybe you were just plain out delusional at this rate. It wouldn’t shock you, between the years of radiation exposure, radiation sickness, and everything in between, you wouldn’t be shocked to find out you’d gone mad. However you wanted ever so badly for it to have been him that was speaking. To run up to him, arms outstretched, tears down your face but a happy smile as you called his name. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t even find the man attached to the voice anymore so why make a fool and draw attention to yourself. No one took kindly to ghouls. So with a heavy heart, you pushed on, making it to the doorstep of Ma June’s shop when you heard him again. “50 caps? That’s just plain ridiculous. 30, take it or leave it” he bartered, making you turn around again, only this time you caught him. You spotted a man that was tall, around the same height as your husband, clad in a wild western style cowboy outfit. You thought it was familiar, from the hat all the way down to the boots, it reminded you of him but a lot of people out here in the wastes wore Wild West themed clothes, deeming themselves cowboys and cowgirls of the wild wastelands. You wished he would turn around, you needed to see his face, hell just his eyes would be enough to sate the curiosity that was eating away at you. You’d forever recognize those eyes, they were so unique, so him. So beneath the shade you stood, observing him from a distance to be safe. That was until Ma June saw you standing there through the window of her shop, and she had a job for you that was important so she couldn’t wait for you to be done with whatever it was your were doing before she drug you inside. “What are you standin’ around out here for? I got a job for you!” She exclaimed, grabbing you and pulling you inside right as the man turned to walk away. You groaned in frustration as your only chance at an answer was stolen from you, but little did you know that your commotion made him stop to watch curiously as you went inside. Something about that dress you were wearing looked awful familiar to him but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so he just kept walking.
As the next couple of days passed by, the curiosity was absolutely eating away at your mind. You wondered if you were on the brink of going feral with how your thoughts were screaming that it could have been him. You wished she would have waited until you could have gotten a better look at him than just his back and his clothes, though they felt familiar, akin to something he would have worn on the set to his movies, you just couldn’t be sure. So you continued on, traveling with a random person’s head in your bag, wrapped up in an old T-shirt that was soaked through with blood now as you were on your way back from your bounty for Ma June. It was a particularly hot day outside, one of those days where no matter how much water drank, you just couldn’t keep the heat away or the dehydration at bay. So as you sucked down the last of your water in your canteen, you did your best to stave off the coughing fit that was bubbling in the back of your throat like a horrible itch you just could never scratch. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t enough, and seeing as you hit your inhaler for the last of your supply yesterday, you were shit out of luck. Damn it, you were so close too, you felt it. You couldn’t go like this, not without finding him, not without avenging your child and going after those Vault-Tec bastards that stole her and your husband from you. “Damn it!” You choked out as you clutched your chest, your coughing fit sending you to your knees in the sand where you laid in the hopes that it would let up sometime soon and you could continue moving. This couldn’t be the end for you, it just couldn’t be. You wouldn’t let it.
As you laid there, throat burning as you were hacking up your lungs, you saw a figure walking along the horizon in the distance. You wondered if maybe this was what they spoke of when people said their loved ones come and take them away right before they pass, or maybe it was just another hallucination, all you knew is that they were coming closer and closer to you. You reached for your gun with all the strength you could offer through your coughing fit and weakened state, unsure of whether they were a raider or someone with just plain ill intention. As they drew closer, you looked up to see another ghoul stabbing before you, his cowboy hat casting a slight shade over his face but even through the tears in your vision you could see his eyes. They were gorgeous, they looked just like how you remember your husband’s looked the last time you had a chance to look into them, making you look him over but it was so hard to tell. He was a man who had succumbed to the same fate you did, leathery skin, no nose, ruined ears, but his eyes…god they were so familiar. You saw him cock his head while looking at you, investigating your features, you could tell there was something about you that he was intrigued with.
“I feel your pain there, sister” he said, that southern drawl coming out sounding just like him, and god how it made your heart ache. He bent down to see you better, taking a better look at you. “I’ll be damned if somethin’ ‘bout you ain’t familiar though” he said, making you look up at him, and in that moment as he looked into your eyes, he could have sworn it was you, his long lost wife. He held hope it his heart, but it was a cruel world out here, he couldn’t be sure. “Your eyes, they look a lot like my wife’s did” he said, and you took that as your chance to see if it was really him. “C-Coo…per…?” You rasped out the best you could, needing to know if it was really him, needing to know if he was alive or if you were just going crazy. His eyes went wide for a moment before reaching for his gun, making your heart jump in your chest with anxiety. “How do you know my name?” He asked coldly, his eyes looking angrily upon you and it made your heart wrench in your chest but beat fast all the same to know it was him. “Tell me! How do you know my name?” He said angrily, making you raise your hands up to show you weren’t dangerous, you cursed your inability to speak properly or else you’d have answered his question already. “Be..cause…we were…Mar…ried” you rasped out once more, showing him your wedding ring that he bought you that rested on your ring finger, making him soften up for just a moment. “After two hundred years… could it really be?” he asked softly to himself in disbelief, but once again, he reminded himself that this world was a cruel place where people stoop to things lower than they ever did before. To him, you could have been anyone, maybe no more than a random stranger who pick pocketed that precious ring off of his wife, a total stranger playing as his beloved to get to his weakness. He pointed his gun at you once more, making tears come to your eyes even more now, had you said something wrong? Why was he mad at you? You hadn’t left on bad terms last you remember, but then again it’s hard to remember as far back as two centuries. “How do I know, huh?” He asked aggressively, and you figured it was a valid worry, you knew how awful this world was now, you couldn’t blame him for needing the reassurance. He needed to be sure it was truly you. “How do I know it’s really you?” He asked, waiting for you to stop coughing long enough to give him an answer. “What’s…that look…for?” You asked, something you always asked him when he stared at you in awe, or when he looked at you right before you two went to bed, it was like your signature phrase. You weakly removed the bandana covering your face, trying your best to show him any bit of your features left that you could use to show him it was really you. “It’s me…Coop. Y/N…” you rasped as saliva began to well in your mouth at the sight of him, slowly losing control over yourself as time passed. He’d never dropped his gun so fast, or fell to his knees so quick in his entire life than in that moment, the only other time was the moment he found out you were pregnant with his child, dropping to his knees to kiss your belly and place his hands on it excitedly. “Oh my god…Y/N” he said in utter shock and disbelief that you were here, you were alive. You were a ghoul now which hurt him to know you suffered the same pain as him, but you were alive and that’s what mattered most to him, finally having found you after all the years spent hoping you were still alive out here.
“Here baby, here, hold on. I gotchya” he said, quickly grabbing his inhaler with a vial of the chems you’d run out of last night, never needing it more than in this moment to keep you from turning feral on him. He pressed it to your lips, pushing the plunger on it to get the chems in your system. You inhaled it like a breath of fresh cool air, sending you coughing once more but that itch was slowly fading away, you could breathe again. You looked up at him as you laid there weakly, your head in his lap. “My hero” you said weakly, trying to be funny but he was too caught up in looking into your eyes, getting himself to believe what was right in front of him. “Two centuries I’ve spent looking for you…” you said, your eyes scanning him and his features to assure yourself too that this was real, that he really was sitting here before you, alive and well. Or as well as one could be as a ghoul in the wastelands. You smiled as you teared up, seeing the tears in his eyes as he looked down at you, pulling you up and into a hug. “Oh god…I can’t believe you’re alive” he said, hugging you tight and you did the same, burying your face into his shoulder. “I could say the same to you. I always knew you were stubborn, too stubborn to go out the way the rest of the world did” you said, making him chuckle as stray tears ran down your marred cheeks. “I’ve been dreaming of this day…dreaming of the day I’d get to see you and B/N again…” he said, making you grip his duster as the tears flooded down your face even more when he said your baby girl’s name. “Cooper…” you said, making him pull away from you but you weren’t far, he made sure of it. “She…she didn’t make it, honey…I’m so sorry. I tried everything, believe me I did, but it was too late…” you said, making his heart absolutely break in his chest knowing his baby was gone and that he would never have the chance to see her again.
“What was she like? She was so young when it all happened” He asked, holding your hands in his as you two shared in this moment together. You smiled as your hand cupped his cheek softly, your thumb rubbing along his skin that shared the same texture as your own. “Just like her daddy. She had your gorgeous eyes, your beautiful smile and that same stubborn attitude” you said through a laugh, making him chuckle with you as his hand came to hold the back of yours as it touched him. He missed your loving touch, and that beautiful smile that he swore could light up even the darkest rooms. He could hardly believe that you’d still even touch or speak to him now, with the way he looked. He knew you likely held a sympathy for it, knowing all too well yourself what it was like but the fact that you weren’t scared or hateful like others were towards him for it. “She was smart, funny, kind…she was daddy’s baby girl. You’d have loved that about her. It was like a little slice of you was there in her, keeping me going. She gave me hope when it felt like there wasn’t any left in this world to hold onto” you said, seeing a few stray tears stream down his cheeks as you spoke of her. His stomach was in knots, his heart filled with anger and pain to know the wastelands claimed one of his own. “I wish I coulda been there, for both of you. Maybe she’d be here if I was” he said somberly, guilt lacing his tone as he leaned his forehead against yours, not caring if your hats would come off. He needed this, he needed you. “Hey, don’t blame yourself for what happened, you had nothing to do with it. It’s those vile people at Vault-Tec who did this. They took our baby, not you. Don’t you ever think this is your fault” you assured him, holding him close to you as he expressed the most emotion he’s felt in nigh on two centuries.
“We made it pretty good all things considered, held our own well for ten years. I taught her how to use a gun when she turned eight to keep her safe should anything happen to me, did everything in my power to keep her safe, fed and hydrated even on the hard days where supplies were sparse” you explained. “The radiation just became too much for her little body to handle. She was ten years old, I could hardly believe it. It was like I woke up one day and she wasn’t a baby anymore, our little girl had just grown up so fast” you said, remembering those days as tears clouded your vision, streaming down your cheeks like small rivers, watching the droplets fall into the sand beneath you. “I’m sorry Cooper, I’m so sorry…” you apologized, making him hold you tight and hush you as you did. “I shoulda been better…if I was better maybe she’d still be here now” you said, taking the blame for something you knew you had no control over, but it left you guilty all the same. “Shh, don’t go thinkin’ like that. I’d say from the sounds of it, ya did a damn fine job managin’ that long out in this shit hole just the two of you. You always were a great mom, and an equally great wife” he said, making you sniffle as you smiled at him at that reassurance. “I did all I could, there was hell to pay for anyone who stood in my way, that’s for sure” you said, making him chuckle because that was exactly how you were before the war too. You always wanted what was best for your family, and you were willing to go great lengths to keep your husband and child happy. “I know you said you been lookin’ for me for a long time…but I ain’t the same man I was back then” he started. “But I got a feelin’ you ain’t exactly the same woman anymore either, so maybe we can still work this out, you and me” he said, making you chuckle. “No, I’m not. And if that means you don’t love me anymore I-“ you spoke but you were cut off by the feel of his lips against your own. They were thinner now, dry and marred by radiation just like yours were, but you could still feel the passion behind it, the love in it. No amount of radiation could ever take that away. “You lettin’ all the radiation get to that brain of yours? Of course I still love you. I lost ya once, I ain’t losin’ you again, that’s for damn sure” he said, making you laugh as more tears fell, only these ones were happier ones now. You squeezed his hand that was in your own as your heart raced in your chest. “You have no idea how happy that makes me to hear, Coop” you replied, kissing him once more with all the passion two hundred years of separation could hold behind it. “I love you, and I’ve missed you so damn much” you said, pressing your foreheads together once more as you fought the tears that began to turn into a sob. “I love you too darlin’, missed you like crazy. The world ain’t been the same without you” he said, making you sniffle as you felt the same way. “And if you’ll still have me, I’d like to make that a world of the past” he added, making you chuckle tearfully. “Of course I will” you said, allowing his heart to rest assured that you were still his girl, making him smile as he looked down at you, his thumb rubbing along your cheek to wipe away your tears.
You smiled back up at him, your hand coming to the back of his as you remembered the moment from your birthday again all those years ago, slow dancing in the kitchen with him. “What’s that look for, hmm?”You asked, just like you did that day, making him grin as he thought of the right words to say. “Nothin’ just that I’m lucky enough to have married the most beautiful person on this earth” he replied, making you chuckle. It was just what you’d been needing to hear all this time. “And how lucky I am to have her back in my arms where she belongs” he added, making you giggle before kissing you once more. Desert be damned, Cooper had his wife back after so long spent searching for her, and he was going to make damn sure she knew how much he missed her all these years.
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zexapher · 1 day
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Vacuan Nights, Like Vacuan Days
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They’re just so great together! I’d love for Jaune and Weiss to get a little downtime in Vacuo to live out a moment like this. They really deserve it, and I’d love to see Jaune’s guitar make a reappearance.
The comic here was inspired by u/Silverstar1243’s excellent piece of art, A Serenade Under the Moonlight. Send some love to them on their twitter, commission some art if you’re willing and able, they’ve made some great stuff.
You folks may have noticed I threw in a couple of references for those in the know; the Golden Oreos behind Yang (double stuffed, I might add) for the trio’s ship, Weiss liking it rough for Mallobaude’s great fic, and of course I made a whole theme around the Arabian Nights Disney song. A song, along with its Aladdin compatriots, which I spent the better part of a day finding covers for just to listen to on repeat while I worked.
This one’s now officially my longest comic project, with 14 panels, two over the past record since I added the White Knight kiss at the end. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Not sure I’d say it was more difficult than my Vanity of Vanities post, but for this one I actually knew how to use my editing software going into it (at least somewhat).
Put a lot of work into this one, been working on it on and off since February. Took a few breaks for vacation, to make my memorial post for Rooster Teeth, and another five meme edits or so, but I came back around to it. First half was pretty easy, relatively minor edits inserting characters into scenes and so on. The second half with Jaune and Weiss was tougher though, with color correcting, merging poses, redrawing features, drawing Jaune’s entire head to fix some lighting issues, etc. Really like how the edit to make Jaune strum his guitar turned out.
The time it took to make the whole comic got me down a little, until I did a bit of math. Including my side projects since starting this, all the scripting and editing and all, I’ve been pumping out a panel every two days. That seems pretty good to me, that kind of accomplishment makes me a little proud of myself.
Really need to get around to watching the second part of the Justice League Crossover movies. It’s got a few Vacuo scenes that might make things a little more authentic instead of me just using Saphron’s house and pretending it’s a suite in Vacuo. I do love taking yet more character stills from Jaune and friends experiencing deep trauma and turning it into something positive, been making that a bit of a personal habit. And I’ve got to say, the background for Jaune and Weiss’ scene is really beautiful, pulled it from when Sun and Neptune hear Ruby’s message about Salem. That’s just a really good shot all on its own, I even saved a copy for my computer’s wallpaper after editing out the two.
Posting a big RWBY White Knight edit, watching not one but two RWBY Beyond episodes, and all on the trail of the news that RWBY’s found partners that they’re negotiating with and that the creative team is expected to stay on. And I'm sipping bubble tea. Life is good.
Anyway, pardon the long write up. I’m invested in this one, and am quite pleased with how the comic turned out. I hope you all get a kick out of it as well!
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artethyst · 2 days
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~ Leaves In A Sky Full Of Stars ~
Eris Vanserra x Rhysand’s Sister!Reader/OC
Eris had never seen his Mate so nervous- to talk to him, anyway.
Even when they had first met she had been nothing but a pain in his backside- a beautiful one no less.
“I have…news.” Came her voice, wavering as she played with her fingers, sliding the grand, shimmering ruby across her ceremonially ringed digit to soothe her.
“I suspect it is bad.” His teased, taking in her soft appearance, taught chest blossoming at the sight of his beloved.
She grinned, but there was a strange sadness to her eye which sent his own heart racing.
“It depends how you feel about it.”
He quirked a brow as she moved to him, perching herself over his thigh, her skirts brushing against his riding boots that were caked in mud.
“My Love, I am filthy-“
“When are you not?” She mocked lightly and he could only roll his eyes in return, gathering her trembling fingers in his own, warming them as he knew she liked.
Without a word she guided one of his calloused hands away from her own, placing it on her lower stomach as she remained perched on his lap.
He was perplexed until he felt it.
Their life force thrumming as one.
He looked at her incredulously and she bit her lip.
He couldn’t breathe.
“A-Another?” He swallowed thickly. “So…So soon?”
“Eri, he is almost four,” she tried to smile, but his gaze was too piercing, focused on her stomach- where their babe guiltlessly lay.
She knew what was wrong.
“He is hardly three,”
His resolve quickly diminished as he felt her disappointment through the bond, her sweet face falling at his words- ones he vowed to never hurt her with.
He heard her breath hitch and that was enough to break him.
“It…It is a blessing.” He breathed out, unconvincingly- but she knew better. “My Love, any child you give me is a greater gift than I could ever ask for-“
“Then why are you so scared?” Her voice was low as she traced his jaw, eyes glassy as he took a deep breath and counted.
One.
His father was dead. He couldn’t hurt her or the child- children.
Two.
She hadn’t died in childbirth. Madja had saved her. She was alive. Her and his firstborn son were okay.
Three-
“Eri…Talk to me…”
He hated this.
Himself.
His own anxieties self sabotaging his relationships with the only people- person he really cared about.
He swallowed thickly before replying, the feel of her delicate skin against his own dragging him back to surface from his suffocating fears. Ones he might have drowned in if not for her addictive salvation.
“Last time.” Was all he could say, jaw taught. “I almost lost you- the both of you.”
“Eri-“
“I am not my father. You…You are more than what your womb can give me- one was enough. More than enough. You are more precious to me than the heirs you may provide.”
“You…You do not want more children?”
She knew her husband was wary about the first, but had hoped he might have been convinced to have more. She was happy to compromise with his darkest fears and stop at two if it meant she could have at least one of each.
“My Love, I would have as many as you would be happy to give me, but…But it is dangerous. The Healers said-“
“Eris.” She was firm, pushing his hand further against her slightly raised stomach. “You have no reason to be afraid. You are High Lord- we have the best Healers at our disposal. After last time-“
She felt him still at the memory, a chilling sense of fear scattering its way down the bond.
“It was a miracle you both survived.” His voice was cold as she ran a hand through his choppy auburn locks, knowing that his reaction was not one of disappointment, but rather sheer unadulterated terror.
Worry for both his Mate and unborn child.
“Eri, we are both okay- we will be okay.”
And then he nodded.
A shaky breath with it, no less.
“Another, then?” Came a breathy half-laugh, his amber eyes glinting in the soft light of the room.
“Another,” she replied, eyes just as glassy, an incredulous smile on her face as he nuzzled his face against her womb, fresh tears of his own gathering against her gown.
If only the first time they had found out had been as simple.
-
“Must you leave me?” Eris drawled against the crown of your head, inhaling the scent as if it were his last drop of water in the vast, dry plains of Summer.
“It is all but only for a few hours you fiery baby,” you teased as he grinned against your silky hair, revelling in its softness against his cheek. “I would extend the invitation to you, though, I am certain you would not be interested in having tea with-“
“If by tea you mean talking about your sinful novels and eating pastries-“
“I’ll have you know we have distinguished talks-“
“About Sellyn Drake?”
“How do you know about Sellyn Drake?”
It was then he went quiet, which made you giggle, leaning into him for support as his hold on you tightened.
“Will you take the guards I have assigned to you? Perhaps too at least three of the hounds-“
“It is my birthplace Eris,” you wanted to roll your eyes at his overprotectiveness but knew it only came from love. “No guards. No hounds.”
It was then the eldest hound gave a high pitched whine, the very same one that had taken to curling up protectively over your stomach and defying Eris for the first time ever in her meticulously reared existence.
You were lucky he hadn’t caught on.
“How will I survive these awful meetings without knowing you’ll be right behind those doors to greet me once they have ceased?
Your smile became wicked.
“Perhaps I will have a greater surprise for you this evening-“
You barely finished your sentence before his hands had found themselves desperately grabbing at your rear, you smiled into his needy mouth as he pulled you into a tender kiss, laughing wildly as he squeezed the cheeks to slip his tongue right through your lips.
He would be in for a surprise alright.
-
You breathed in the air of Velaris with a melancholic peacefulness, whilst Autumn was your new home- the Court in which you presided over, nothing could ever beat the place in which you had grown.
Only two days prior, you had discovered you were pregnant- a miracle in itself. You knew of Eris’ remaining self doubts, ones that failed to be distinguished even after snuffing out Beron. How he had assured you that it wasn’t necessary to provide him heirs, that the risk of childbirth was not worth losing you.
You knew he was nothing like his father, and had often caught yourself daydreaming of what you could have- what your brother had.
It wasn’t until the Healers excitedly told you of your newfound condition that you thought it could ever be a reality.
You wanted to make it special. As special as Fae pregnancies were, and so you decided you would visit your long time favourite bakery and have them ice a celebration cake in such a way that would reveal the surprise.
One you hoped your husband would take well if not for his ridiculous overbearing attitude.
“Gods, you reek of Eris,” your cousin grimaced, nose scrunching as she pulled you into a hug. “No…Wait. What is that?” She pulled away perplexed, her pouty mouth falling open in disbelief as she suddenly recognised the sickly, sweet aroma- one also tinged with your husband’s delicate spice.
“Mor-“
“OH MY GOD! MOTHER’S TITS!” She squealed, loud enough for all of Prythian to hear. “You’re pregnant with that asshole’s child!”
You frowned.
“That asshole is still my Mate you know.”
“Cauldron boil you I suppose,” she retorted, a grin on her joyous face as you rolled your eyes with a half smile, knowing her jests were all in good humour- despite everything.
Despite the truth. Despite the truth and what you knew of Eris, the very truth your family now did too, there was still a long way to go for them to truly accept him.
“That is why I enlisted your help,” you continued, her arm now looped through yours. “I have been glamouring my scent so he wouldn’t find out until I had planned something special.”
“He has turned you soppy, Cousin,” she mocked as you giggled, knowing it was very much the other way around. “But who am I to say no to free pastries?”
After you and Mor had sufficiently stuffed yourself with cakes, you especially savouring the taste having suffered without it for far too long. It wasn’t that Autumn desserts were bad, you just missed the sweets of your childhood.
That and you were growing sick of spices and apple.
You had felt a pair of eyes trailing you but presumed it was due to the fact you were still Princess of the Night Court, your presence was greatly missed in those parts of Velaris you seldom frequented since being appointed High Lady Of Autumn.
After you thanked your favourite baker, receiving the delicate cake and had practically forced the money into her hands, making sure to visit again soon, it was almost time for you to leave the City of Starlight.
“Why can’t you stay for dinner?” Your cousin whined, still hanging off of your arm like she did when you both were teens. “I’m sure your husband can manage those few hours-“
“We will visit again when I reveal the news to everyone. I swear on the Mother Mor…You better keep it a secret- especially from Rhys!”
She raised her hands in mock surrender.
“Besides,” you continued, blissfully unaware of the presence gaining on you from behind the narrow alley. “Eris-“
It was Mor who screamed first.
You felt the dagger pierce your side, but the sharp pain in your stomach that followed was worse than whatever the assailant had set out to do. A dull ache that had stolen your voice away as you fell to the floor, helpless.
You felt yourself waning as Mor’s loud voice became faint, the last thing you saw were her shaking hands, covered in blood, as she removed the Autumn Court dagger from your marred flesh.
-
Eris jolted when the bond was flooded with pain, his hands scouring burn marks into his ornate chair at the head of the meeting he had been called to at the sudden intensity of it.
He hardly had time to react before the large oak doors swung open, revealing Lucien who, to anyone else, looked normal, but the most disheveled Eris had seen him in years.
The Advisors quickly bowed and deserted the room before Eris had the chance to send them away, Lucien’s shallow breaths enough to warn them of the severity of the situation their ears were not Privy to.
“Someone was sent to kill her,” was all the Emissary said. He knew Eris would understand and was never one for pleasantries. “Rhysand has her in the Town House-“
And that was all he needed to winnow straight to where his Mate was being held.
“Brother,” Lucien called out, only steps behind the High Lord, jogging to catch up to the man barrelling through the doors adorned with Night’s symbology. “Rhysand has her room guarded, I warn you-“
“She is my Mate,” he growled, animalistic. “I shall do as I please.”
“High Lord,” Rhysand greeted sarcastically as Eris stormed his way into view, heart beating so fast he was sure he might have a heart attack if he didn’t reach you in the next few seconds.
“Rhysand if you do not step your ridiculously shoed foot aside-“
“She is safe. Our Healers do not need another High Lord breathing down their necks-“
“Safe? Someone tried to kill her. I think you and I have very different definitions of ‘safe’, High Lord.” The title was spat with venom, not respect.
“It was an Autumn Court Soldier.” Rhysand’s tone was pointed, “if she hadn’t been with Morrigan, perhaps nobody would have found her in time.”
Eris’ face paled.
“Autumn?” His jaw became taught. “Where-“
“Azriel took him to the dungeons. I assured him to leave the bastard to you, that you would most certainly provide the deserved punishment.”
Eris couldn’t thank him.
The horrible lump in his throat stopping him.
The one that had never left since his cursed birth- the one that had remained even when you had entered his life, the one that only shrunk, but never ceased to exist.
You had been hurt because of him.
Targeted.
Almost killed because he had been unaware- unable to stop it.
He knew he didn’t deserve you, but this was enough proof for him to make that very lump increase tenfold. Increase to the point where he felt he was going to suffocate.
He was drowning. He was erratic and his salvation- his only respite, was laying unresponsive in next the room over.
Whenever he got like this, which was rare as of late, you were the one to soothe him.
Kiss away his fears- quash the traumas his father had so lovingly provided him.
He felt like he was going to die.
He wanted to.
A life without you in it was not worth living.
He felt a familiar claws scraping at his mental shields and could only blame his lack of response for their intrusion, sending his brother a sharp glare in return regardless.
“Get out of my head Rhysand!”
“Let him see her, Rhys,” came Feyre’s gentle voice as she emerged from the chamber in which you were being held, and Eris might have thanked her if not for the red tainting his vision. “You would act just the same if it were me.”
Rhysand looked torn for a moment- as if he had only just remembered his little sister, now his only sister, belonged to another male.
That someone else now held her heart.
“Try keeping your emotions in check High Lord,” came his suave voice, though Feyre knew he was masking his own fears. “Wouldn’t want to exasperate her further through your…Unfortunate bond, would we?”
And with that, the High Lord of Night made his exit.
A silent acceptance that Eris was the one now entrusted to look over you.
Feyre sent Eris an apologetic smile before catching up with her own Mate, lightly berating him before they could turn the corner.
He didn’t even bother to listen.
You were more important than any domestic material he could have on Rhysand to poke fun at him for later.
You were more important than anything.
He thought he had prepared himself for the worst, but he would never forget the way your face looked in that moment.
Pale.
Sickeningly pale.
Not the delicate, moonlit expanse he spent his nights caressing- worshipping, wondering how he got so lucky, but a pallid shade that almost brought him to his knees.
You were the only one who could ever bring him to.
He knew he had memorised the shade of your eyes- an ethereal violet, the only place he’d allow himself to get lost in, but was horrified as they remained shut.
Perhaps to never open again.
Because of him.
Or so he told himself.
He wished then he had spent every breath- every fleeting second of his centuries of living looking into those eyes if it meant never having to forget the way they looked.
The way you gazed upon him- with love.
Not with fear, disappointment nor disgust, but the way his mother did.
Even when you had wanted nothing to do with him, before you had accepted the bond and would refuse to meet his gaze, forced to trail behind your father and brother as a well-bred female should- or so was told.
Even when he knew he was the only one in love- would do anything for you regardless, he would rather go back to that moment, see those eyes narrowed at him in fury, than never see them again.
“The dagger was laced with Fae bane,” came the voice of Madja, he knew that because you had forced him to be attended to by her when he had suffered a particularly nasty thrashing at the hands of his father.
One you didn’t trust the Healers of his own court to remedy.
“By the Mother child, sit before you faint on me.” His face might have been have been paler than yours- blood colder and far more disheveled. “She is alive. After she wakes, Mother knows she will, I must warn you, she will still require an extensive recovery period- especially because of the baby.”
Especially because of the baby.
The baby.
The baby. The baby. The baby.
“T-The what?”
Madja breathed sharply through her nostrils.
“I see.” She sighed, adjusting the pillows beneath your limp neck. “I was under the impression you were aware. Do not fret, I have not informed anyone else-“
“She…She’s pregnant?”
It was then any semblance he was gripping onto fell through his hands like the tears threatened to from his piercing eyes.
His chest felt like it was on fire- consumed by the same flames that rested within him, his ribcage screaming out with each wavered breath as he used the wall for support.
He was having a panic attack.
He was having a panic attack and you were not there to save him.
“Leave,” he gritted out when he felt Madja inch towards him. “It will resolve itself in a minute- go.”
She was in no mood to argue with a High Lord- a temperamental one at that, and, deep down, trusted him enough to be left alone with you. He might’ve been the only one she would’ve taken that order from.
She knew that you loved him- that he loved you more. Perhaps even deeper than her own High Lord loved his own mate. She had practically raised you, it was not hard to tell. It was a palpable love.
A fiery, all consuming love.
When the woman had finally left, he let himself fall to your bedside, one hand clutching his chest, the other trembling and taking a firm hold of your much smaller, much softer one.
One that was ice cold.
He gasped through his tears, so foreign against his skin- his skin that had become so hot, his Magic uncontrollable, that they evaporated as soon as they fell upon his freckled cheeks.
The words came tumbling out before he could even rationalise- process what they meant. Apologising- for everything.
Apologising for being your Mate, for cursing you to be bound to such a fool as he, one that had broken his promise to protect you- to keep you safe.
He sobbed unabashedly- unashamedly into your hands, the frail digits slowly becoming warmed by his powers as he continued praying the hardest he’d ever prayed- the only time of three that he had ever put his wavering faith into the Mother, to keep you and his unborn child steady.
Steady and awake.
He wasn’t sure if Madja had been vague to comfort him or simply because she too was unaware when you would come to.
Or if you would ever.
He hadn’t even become a father and he had already failed his one duty.
If he felt worthless before, it was nothing to what he felt now- kneeling on the cold stone, his head against your womb with his fractured cries ricocheting off of the bloodied material.
He would burn it.
Buy you 1000 dresses to make up for the one he destroyed- never wanting to smell the scent of your blood, the one which made him gag and tears gather ever more strongly at the corner of his russet eyes.
He would burn it alongside the very man had done this to you.
Burn him slowly.
He would burn everything for you, the entirety of Prythian- himself to ensure your safety.
And now his child’s.
“E-Eri?”
And that’s when he really did properly cry.
You couldn’t understand what he was saying, his hoarse voice muffled by the fresh linen Madja had given you after attending to your wound.
Then you realised he wasn’t saying anything at all.
He was crying.
He was crying and trying to hide it.
“I-I’m sorry-“ your voice was weak, and it was your turn to cry. “I-I should’ve listened to you, I-I should never have come, I put our baby in danger-“
You spoke without thinking, but it was then you gasped.
Your baby.
“The baby is okay-“ Eris let out, his own voice breaking, finally lifting his head and allowing his watery gaze meeting your own as if saying it out loud finally made him accept it.
Realise what truly lay ahead.
“T-The baby- our baby,” he choked out, and you let him bring you into his arms, as you hiccuped against his shoulder as he held you. “My star, I can never apologise enough if I made you feel you couldn’t tell me-“
“No,” you sniffled, wincing as you shifted, “I-I came here to surprise you, I-I had someone bake a cake- I-“ you burst into tears again. “I-I didn’t mean for any of this to happen…I just wanted to make you happy!”
You were still thinking about him.
He was supposed to be the one comforting you and yet all you could do was apologise- apologise for wanting him to be happy.
“My Love, you make me happy. With every breath I take knowing you are my Mate fills me with more joy than anything tangible- anything else the Mother could ever gift me,” his words were sincere as he delicately held you, mindful of your wound. “There is nothing in all of Prythian that matters to me apart from you.”
He felt himself becoming tense as his fingers brushed against your cut- the one he refused to look at because it turned him feral.
“Are…Are you happy then?” Your voice was so small it almost broke him. The fact you even had to ask. “I know how you feel-“
“My Light, that news alone leaves me the happiest I have ever been,” he was struggling to maintain his composure with his Mate so weak- trembling in his strong arms. “A child is a blessing, one I am honoured you would ever give me…” His amber gaze became crescent shaped as he smiled, still in disbelief. “I love you. More than anything. More than I ever thought possible.”
You didn’t know why you were crying anymore.
The pain, the fear, the love you felt oozing from the bond or your husband’s words.
The confessions that spilled from him so readily- easily after years of coaxing him from his shell, that hard exterior even you had to work through.
“Our baby,” you echoed, the only words you could find as you revelled in your Mate’s tears.
A rare sight if any.
“Our baby,” he affirmed shakily, his free hand remaining protectively splayed on your flat stomach, swearing there and then he’d keep you safe- the both of you safe, no matter the cost.
The same cost that later that evening, when you had spent enough time wrapped up in Eris, Madja shooing him away exasperatedly, the man who had dared do this to you paid for.
The cost he paid for when Eris knew you were amply surrounded by people- family who loved you, people at your beck and call by your bedside, giving him enough time to deal with the very scum that had once been part of his- your Court.
The very cost that was hours of torture- brutal torture lovingly provided by the very blade that had harmed you- a hundred fold.
The man couldn’t even scream his last words, his tongue cut from his mouth as he was burned alive.
Eris, with a snarl on his powerful face at the memory of you so helpless.
And with the blood of his enemy covering his shaking hands, all he could think of was you.
You and his child.
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earthtoharlow · 3 days
Text
Don’t Like The Lights
Sequel to Flashing Lights series, must read Flashing Lights first to understand. 
Series Masterlist
1. Jungle
Don't know where we stand, I used to hit you 'bout everything. Are we still good? Are we still good?
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Maryse let out a nervous sigh as she fluffed her hair in the mirror. The air was thick with anticipation and slight nostalgia. Tonight was the Grammys and she was nominated for Best R&B Song and Best R&B Album, to say she was nervous was an understatement.
Tonight also marked the anniversary of the day Jack and her met for the first time…or rather the anniversary of when he saved her from falling on her face in front of everyone. Maryse couldn’t help but still long for Jack, who was and will probably always be her greatest muse.
She hadn’t heard or seen Jack since the night he left her house. He had even been silent on social media so she couldn’t even stalk him if she wanted to. Maryse’s thoughts were cut short when her manager, CoCo, spoke up from the door behind her.
“You ready? The car is outside.”
Maryse looked at herself in the mirror one more time, and noticed the missing spark from her eyes. She closed her eyes and made another silent promise to herself that she would one day reignite that spark, to find happiness and fulfillment once more, whether with Jack or on her own.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
***
Jack strode confidently down the red carpet with PG. Despite the flurry of activity around him, he remained focused on the task at hand, his mind consumed with thoughts of the upcoming awards ceremony.
His stride came to a halt when an interviewer called out to him, their words causing him to pause in his tracks. “Hey, Jack, did you hear? Maryse mentioned she’s rooting for you to win tonight,” the interviewer exclaimed, a hint of excitement evident in their voice.
Jack’s initial stoic demeanor softened at his words, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before being replaced by a subtle warmth. Turning towards the interviewer, he offered a grateful nod, his gratitude evident in his face.
“Really? That means a lot,” he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of appreciation and sincerity. Despite the way they ended, Jack couldn’t deny the swell of pride that washed over him at the knowledge that Maryse still held him in such high regard. “I’m rooting for her as well.”
As Jack made his way inside, his thoughts drifted back to a year ago when he crossed paths with Maryse for the first time. The memory of them first locking eyes as he helped her up the stairs to get her award tugged at his heartstrings and their history started to weigh heavy on his shoulders as he saw the very stages he climbed to “save her.”
Glancing around the venue from his seat, he immediately noticed the familiar silhouette of Maryse, he couldn’t miss those curls even if he wanted to. In that moment, he silently wished she would turn her head and meet his gaze. Jack was sure he would always yearn for her.
He didn’t realize how hard it was going to be seeing Maryse again. For months he wanted to reach out but he didn’t want to reopen old wounds. Jack’s gaze remained on Maryse as he watched her mingle with the celebrities at her table, her laughter could be heard from across the room.
He couldn’t shake the feeling of insecurity creeping into his thoughts as he watched her. Was Maryse feeling the same way he did, he wondered, her demeanor showed no hint of being as heartbroken as he was. Did she realize what today meant? Jack continued these thoughts as the award show started, but as he watched Maryse, the distance between them seemed to stretch further, and it drove him crazy.
***
Maryse's heart pounded in her chest as the announcer listed off the nominees for Best R&B Album. She gave a nervous smile to the camera when her name and album was mentioned. She closed her eyes, and grabbed a hold of CoCo’s hand who squeezed it in support.
“And the Grammy goes to…”-Ugh, Those Feelings Again, Maryse Monet!”
Maryse gasped in her seat, eyes wide with tears of joy streaming down her face. She stood up and gave CoCo a hug and thanked her in her ear. As she was making her way up the aisle, Doja stopped her and quickly pulled her into a tight embrace, and congratulated her.
She made sure to take the steps one foot at a time so that she didn’t have a repeat of last year. With a wistful smile, Maryse spoke into the microphone, her voice carrying across the hushed auditorium. “You know, I was a little worried I might trip on my way up here again,” she quipped, drawing a chuckle from the audience. “But thankfully, I made it in one piece this time!”
As the laughter subsided, Maryse took a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “But in all seriousness, I want to express my deepest gratitude to everyone who has been a part of this incredible journey,” she continued, her voice tinged with sincerity. “From the amazing team who worked tirelessly behind the scenes to make this album a reality, to the fans who have supported me every step of the way – this Grammy belongs to all of you.”
Maryse took a pause, and her eyes shifted towards Jack in the crowd. “And to the person who has been my biggest inspiration and my greatest supporter,” she said, her voice catching slightly. “Thank you for believing in me, for pushing me to be the best version of myself, and for sharing your incredible talent and creativity with me. This album would not have been possible without you, and I am forever grateful for the love and the music we have shared.”
With that, Maryse raised the Grammy high above her head. Her heart was overflowing with love and joy. She knew that no matter what the future held, Jack was always going to be her muse.
As Maryse delivered her speech, Jack's eyes fixed her with a mix of pride, love and disbelief. As he watched her bask in the spotlight, her talent and dedication recognized by the industry, any lingering feelings of envy or regret faded into the background.
When she mentioned her muse his heart skipped a beat, and a lump formed in his throat. Despite not saying his name, he knew, deep down, that she was referring to him.
In that moment, Jack realized that Maryse’s victory was their victory, her success brought him a sense of fulfillment and validation that surpassed any accolades or awards he could have received himself.
Tears welled up in Jack’s eyes as he listened to her words, overcome by the unexpectedness of her acknowledgment and the flood of emotions it stirred within him.
Even though he had braced himself for the evening, he didn’t expect the intensity of his feelings upon hearing her speech. As Maryse left the stage he knew in the back of his mind that they would get back together again sooner rather than later. He would make sure of it.
LIFEOFMONET
liked by urbanwyatt, chloebailey, druski, choycebrown, torikelly, jackharlow, saweetie, dojacat and 678,086 others
lifeofmonet: Big hair, two toned lips, and my fav glasses…I was looking real cute before my tears ruined my makeup!
view all 9,467 comments
user: omg that dress!!
user: CONGRATULATIONS!!!
user: anyone catch how she thanked Jack?
saweetie: so proud of you ❤️
urbanwyatt: 🔥🔥🔥🔥
***
Maryse got comfortable in her bed and pulled out her headphones. She was busy all day in the studio when she caught news that Jack had surprise dropped an album. She couldn’t help but notice how buff he looked on the cover, Maryse had to shake her head at the thoughts that popped up in her head before pressing play on the album.
She closed her eyes as the beats filled the room, she loved how honest he got with each track. Maryse couldn’t help but feel guilt when Denver started playing, wishing she had known the depth of how he was feeling at the time. She was sure that the added weight of her hesitation to move in with him added to the stress he was already facing.
Perhaps if she had opened up sooner, they could have faced those challenges together, instead of allowing her doubts to drive them apart. Regret washed over her as Maryse realized the impact of her actions, and she vowed to learn from her mistakes. These past few months apart helped her realize that she needed to be more open, more honest, and more willing to confront her fears, not just for her own sake, but for the sake of her love for Jack.
***
Maryse rushed through the lobby of the recording studio in Kentucky, she was there to record a song with Bryson and because of traffic she was running late. Having never been to that particular studio before Maryse hurriedly asked the person at the front desk where his studio room was located, as she waited for the front desk to look it up, she heard a familiar laugh. Maryse turned to her left and there stood Jack engrossed in conversation with Urban and Bryson.
She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. Just as she considered slipping back out unnoticed, their eyes met, and time seemed to freeze for a heartbeat. Jack’s expression mirrored her surprise, his eyes widening, before a flicker of something else passed through them.
Maryse walked towards the group, giving Bryson and Urban a hug first. “Hey,” Maryse finally said, breaking the silence as she offered Jack a small smile.
Jack returned the smile, his features softening. “Hey,” he replied, his voice warm but with a hint of hesitation.
The air began to fill with awkwardness as they stared at each other.
“Hey, Urb can you come help me with that thing?” Bryson said, turning towards Urban. “What thing?” Urban asked him, confused.
Bryson punched Urban in the arm and gave him a pointed look. “That thing that just suddenly came up. So come on!” and dragged Urban away but not before telling Maryse that he’d see her in the studio.
Jack stood there with a sigh and his checks turned red slightly from embarrassment. All Maryse could do was smile.
“Sorry about them.” Jack apologized running a hand through her messy curls, Maryse couldn’t help but notice he was letting it grow out, a bit unkempt compared to how she remembered.
“You’ve let your curls run wild,” Maryse remarked with a gentle smile, her tone teasing yet filled with fondness.
Jack chuckled softly, a hint of sheepishness in his expression. “Yeah, I've been too caught up with everything to keep up with them,” he admitted, running another hand through his tousled hair.
The familiarity of their banter brought a sense of comfort to the both of them. Happy that despite the time apart some things remained unchanged between them.
With a bittersweet smile, Jack stepped closer to her. “Congratulations on the Grammy, by the way.” he said, his voice genuine. “You deserve it.”
Maryse returned the smile, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her despite the lingering tension between them. “Thank you,” she replied softly. “And congrats on your album too. I listened to it, and… it’s really good.”
There was a flicker of gratitude in his eyes as he nodded. “Thanks,” he murmured, a hint of emotion in his voice. “Means a lot coming from you.”
It became quiet again before Maryse spoke up. “I wouldn’t have come to the studio if I knew you were going to be here,” Maryse confessed, her tone filled with uncertainty.
“Why not?” Jack questioned, his gaze searching hers.
“Because I didn’t know if you would want to see me,” she admitted softly, her words heavy with the weight of their past.
“There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t want to see you,” Jack confessed, his voice vulnerable yet sincere.
Tears welled up in Maryse's eyes as she heard his words, a mix of sadness and longing washing over her.
Maryse nods and starts walking backwards, “Well, I’m going to go. I don’t want to keep Bryson waiting any longer.” She turns around and quickly walks down the long hallway, she had no idea where she was going but she needed to escape. Just as she was about to disappear from view, she heard Jack calling out her name. Her heart skipped a beat, and she hesitated for a moment before slowly turning around to face him.
Jack stood there, looking at her with hope in his eyes. “Hey,” he said softly, almost as if he still couldn’t believe she was really there. “How long are you gonna be in town?”
Maryse swallowed, feeling a lump form in her throat. “Just a couple of days,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his words hanging in the air between them. “Would you… would you want to hang out? Maybe we could actually talk.” His tone was nervous, as if he was afraid of her answer.
She met his gaze, feeling a rush of emotions flood over her. Despite everything that had happened between them, she couldn’t deny the longing she felt to spend time with him again. With a nod, she managed to reply, “I’d love that.”
***
an: aaaaaand we back!!!
Tag List:
(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)
@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @toocriticalharlow @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome @jackharloww @jaydaaasworld @kkrenae @hufflewhore128 @w1ldthoughts @jackiehollanderr @katiaw2 @halfmoondaze @babybardi2 @daphnescorner @angelluv444
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rocketbirdie · 3 days
Text
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Memories.
-----
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Before he could come up with an answer, though, Kunsel was hugging him. At first, it surprised him, though he didn't know why. Maybe just because the last five years had been completely devoid of positive touch like this. Maybe it was because he hadn't quite expected it. But either way, it was needed, and Zack felt himself sink into the hug almost immediately, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend and burying his face in the other's shoulder.
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Am I lost? You're not lost, you know this place. See how you know this place? That's not right—
His panicked breath halts and the world shifts under his feet. Against the cracking ache and the fogged haze, he lifts his head and blinks into the shine of mako gold eyes. When did you get here? Kunsel has information and he sends it to you often. Leave, he's not important.
"Lost? Me?" His toothy grin sends a flare of pain behind his eyes. When have we met? You know him, like you know this place. "Kunsel, man, you know I've run around underplate a thousand times! Stop worryin'! I'll see you later, ok? Things to do, pretty girls to see—"
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Kunsel Zantos showed promise. That much had been obvious from day one of his formal recruitment; questionable background and motivations aside (that which, perhaps, had begun Tseng's careful monitoring in the first place). But in truth, the Turk had not expected him to last long. Bets placed against him for all manners of reasons/excuses, foolish enough to go poking his head in places they didn't belong.
And yet, here he was, stubbornly persistent despite it all.
The last time he had to deal with a SOLDIER directly like this? All those years ago. Alongside Zack. A case which had been pulled from its archival home to live under the watchful gaze of the leader of the Turks because of the very reckless idiot he was now working with.
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There was a comfort in physical contact that Aerith couldn't explain. It was always how she had been. But she bottled that for the sake of being heartbroken. The more Kunsel came around, the more that heartbreak lifted. The more she felt herself. The more she punched and pushed, teased and tapped. Invaded his space with those big green eyes and smiled at him as wide as she could...
She was happy.
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"...you're the only one that's left— you— you KNOW everything, and I know you have to live with that just as much as I do, but you've come back after all this time, and that's all you can say to me? 'Life isn't a game, Roche— life isn't a stage!' Then what am I supposed to make of it, huh? Play the loyal little hound like you? Bow down and kiss some Shinra ass while I'm at it? Abandon who I am; what my heart tells me to do? You're no better than those goddamn Turks."
-----
Thank you for the commission! 💜
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weaveandwood · 2 days
Text
Midwinter in Waterdeep: Part Two
Gale/Tav | Angst & Pining | Read on AO3 | Read Part One | 1K words
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Summary:
After the defeat of the Netherbrain, Gale Dekarios was a wizard of intentionally lesser renown, a respected professor at Blackstaff Academy, and engaged to the love of his life. His life was enchanted until he came home to an empty tower, and he has been seeing ghosts ever since.
He saw her ghost everywhere.  She haunted him the first day when he got home from teaching. The house was too quiet, and as he set his bag down in the entryway, he saw the ring. He saw the note. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. 
AN: There will be a Part 3 to conclude this and it will be out later this weekend. Thank you all so much for your support on what was supposed to be a one-shot that has taken over my brain completely.
He saw her ghost everywhere. 
She haunted him the first day when he got home from teaching. The house was too quiet, and as he set his bag down in the entryway, he saw the ring. He saw the note. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. He knew her leaving was inevitable the more their conversations became stilted, the more they floated in each other's orbits, the more foreign her touch became. But the tower still smelled like her, still felt like her presence was just around the corner. Still felt like they could have had a chance to fix things. He heard her in his head all night long as he wept in his study. 
It’s not real. She’s not here.  
She haunted him on his walk back from visiting his mother two weeks later, the first time he left his house. He had tried to lay low after she left him, but her name followed him like a poltergeist from the mouths of those he passed on the street, whispering to their friends about who he was, who she was. Wondering how it ended.
It's not real. She’s not here. 
She haunted him when he was in the market four months after she left. He didn’t want to be there. Everything reminded him of her - the cart they would visit once a tenday to buy her favorite sweet rolls, the jewelry store he visited in secret to get her silver ring that was still on the entry table gathering dust. He saw a flash of her hair color and froze. When time regained its ability to move forward he strained his neck, pushing through the crowd searching for her, unable to breathe. Could it be her? Where had she been all these weeks? Was she okay? Had she moved on with someone else who was less tied down by routine? Was she even still alive? 
It wasn’t her, of course. He didn’t go to the market again after that. He still hasn’t.
It’s not real. She’s not here. 
Seasons passed. Festivals, new apprentices, weekly dinners with colleagues - life fell into a rhythm that helped him move forward. He saw her ghost less and less. It had been almost 6 months since the last haunting. He had finally tucked the silver ring into a drawer two tendays ago, an attempt to bury the what ifs and if onlys and begin to exorcize her from his memory at last. Midwinter in Waterdeep was upon him, and he was eager to engage in festivities that evening with colleagues, now friends. A few cups of wine and he felt like the old Gale, showing off a little by using his well-honed magic to create fireworks to fill the room with light and color.
As the illusion sparked and fizzled out to the delight and applause of the other partygoers, a familiar wisp settled itself in the peripheries of his mind. She always loved his illusions, from their first night together with the aurora and the sparkling stars to the smaller ones he created for her everyday in the beginning. If he had kept trying to make her happy, would she have left? If he had noticed her pulling away as he settled into the routine of his life, could he have brought her closer instead of making her feel like her only option was to run?
He set his cup down, the wine steering him toward paths his brain wasn’t ready to go back down yet, preferring to stay focused on the revelry at hand. The snow flurries caught his eye through the large picture window in the front room. He had always loved the snow and moved to the window to watch it in contemplative silence.
He froze, his eyes widened, breath caught in his throat.
Her ghost. Haunting him even here, even now, after all this time. Her hair, her eyes, everything just as he remembered from the morning she left him, standing across the street looking into the window he was currently occupying. Looking at him. He saw the ghost’s eyes widen, saw her quickly turn to walk away, to escape discovery. He wanted to hesitate. He wanted to accept it was just another vision brought on by too many cups of wine, another falsehood of his imagination...but one tiny spark of hope pulled at his mind. 
The ghost had never reacted to him like that before. 
He didn’t remember moving. He didn’t remember running out of the door, the rest of the partygoers gasping as the usually reserved Gale Dekarios knocked over a chair and pushed people out of his way. He didn’t remember the bite of the cold air. He didn’t remember yelling “Stop!” as the ghost moved quickly away, trying to toy with him, as always. He didn’t remember running down the street to catch up to the ghost, preparing himself for it to disappear as usual. He didn’t remember the desperation on his face or in his voice as he reached for her.
He remembered grabbing on to the ghost’s hand, feeling it solid in his. His heart pounded.
“Wait. Please,” he said, panting. The ghost turned around, but it wasn’t a ghost at all. 
She was real.  She was here.  
“Gale,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.
“You’re real. You’re here,” he whispered back, wrapping her in his arms, committing to memory how she felt as he held her tightly for the first time in over a year. It was only then he realized that her absence had permeated every facet of his being and he felt like he could finally breathe again. His lips crashed against hers, time standing still for the two of them as he tangled his fingers in her hair.
She took a step back, breaking their contact, looking down at the ground.
He knew. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”
“Tomorrow,” she nodded, a tear falling down her cheek. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"
He placed his hands on both sides of her face, brushing away her sadness before kissing her deeply one more time.
Real. Here. 
“Then let me have tonight.”
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wosoluver · 1 day
Text
Not good at saying goodbyes.
Part 2/? - previous - next
Lena Oberdorf × Reader
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And here you were about to turn 23, you were a late bloomer in football. Only having a big boom in the past two years, playing for Barcelona.
You were set to play the euros for your national team, as you already did play for the qualifiers. You had finally been called up to play, and represent your country. That was, Spain. Despite being born and raised in Germany, you were only a little girl. The most memories you had in football was unfortunately made in Spain. It had been almost 15 years. So it felt like the right thing.
If someone would have told you that then, you would never believe them. You would say there was no way, and you would take the first chance you had, to go 'home'.
But you followed your path, with the best opportunities you had, presented to you. And that's how you ended up where you were now. On a top team, being among awarded players. And you were happy. Really. But something was always missing, and you couldn't figure out what it was.
Asking for a transfer to Bayern Munich as a loan, was a slight desperate try, at trying to fix that feeling.
And the deal had been settled.
And you were feeling great and confident, despite knowing you would have to sooner or later face your old friend, but for only 90 minutes max.
Your plans had been frustrated when a week after the announcement over your contract, Bayern announced another transfer. From Wolfsburg. The very same girl you couldn't stop worrying about.
You deeply hoped you would be better at hello, better than you ever were at goodbyes.
Not knowing where to start was tough. After all besides the loss of contact, you had so many chances of reconnecting. But you both chose not to.
You, because you were extremely scared of the rejection. And her, simply because she was still not over how betrayed she felt, even after all this time.
You didn't know what you were expecting, but being humiliated by having your existence ignored, was not on your list of possibilities.
You came in, to get ready for your first day. Georgia came over to try and fit you in.
"Hello! It's nice to have you here already! Your spanish right? Do you have a german family? You have a german last name."
"Well yeah, I was actually born here, but I grew up there."
"Really? But you play for the national team no?" she asked as you two moved outside.
"Yes, played for them first time this year."
"Hola!" - said Giulia coming close to you.
"She's speaks english and german probably." - said Georgia stoping her friend from embarrassing herself with bad spanish.
"Yes, english or german, or spanish, whatever you prefer."
"We're so excited to have you here, come I'll take you around, you can meet everyone."
And you did. But when you were about to approach Lena and Lea, she simply walked away.
"Hey, sorry about her." - said Lea, with a tight lip smile.
"It's fine."
But it hurt. And it was only going to get worse.
Every chance she had to pass you the ball, she didn't. Everyone noticed at this point. And in the locker room, she didn't make an effort to hide the fact that your presence bothered her.
From that day on, that's what it was like.
You knew you deserved a cold shoulder, but this was too much, and it started taking a tow on you.
You decided to move back to Germany, trying to fill a small void you had deep down, not to make it feel worse. Had you made the right decision?
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"Good morning Y/N!" as she caught up with you on the parking lot.
"Morning Georgia."
"I know it's none of my business and you probably don't even know, since you just met. But is there something wrong between you and Oberdorf?"
"Uhm-" in a way you were kinda glad to be cut off.
"I'm sorry it's just been so weird. We've never had something like this happen in the team."
"I'll try talking to her."
You hated the unwanted attention, especially on something you were so sensitive about.
But she was one of your captains, if she came up to say something like that, it was probably because she wanted to sort it out.
Lena's pov
"You need to try and be more subtle, the girls are worried about the team's harmony." - said Lea to her friend.
"I'm not going to play my feelings down!"
"I'm not asking you to. But at least inside the pitch, you need to put your feelings a side momentarily. You can't let this harm our team's performance."
"See that's exactly what your doing!"
"Lena! You just got here. You can't risk this over pride. You don't need to talk to her, just play football like I know you can."
This time she only nodded. This couldn't be bigger than her career. And that she agreed on.
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reader's pov
During training today, it felt like something was different. Besides the fact you had fallen in the same group as Lena. And you two did football like you used to. So much, you had beaten the opposite group on 5-1. Something that hadn't happened yet since your first day. Her passes from the middle field to your position as a left winger, made sure that most balls got into the penalty area so Lea and Pernille could manage goals.
The way she had been acting made you think something between you had changed. That gave you a little hope as you went to talk to her, later in the locker room.
"Hey... I just wanted to- I wanted to apologize." - You said barely above a whisper.
"I don't want your apologies. I'm not doing this for you."
"Still, I need to apologize. There's no excuse to what I've done and-"
"Your right there's no excuse." she said dryly as she walked away.
You felt like someone grabbed your heart that was already holding on to it's pieces, and smashed it against a wall.
You never thought you would see this side of her. In reality that part of her had only been created after the harsh reality had hit her all those years ago.
Like you had drove her to create the best side of her. The kind, funny and quick witted one, you had managed to do the same, but for the worse.
You moved as quick as you could into a stall, and cried your eyes out, as quietly as possible. Not quiet enough though, apparently.
"Y/N? It's Giulia." She said softly as she sat down next to you, outside the stall. "Do you need anything?"
You were quiet for a few minutes.
"A hug?" whispering back.
You sounded like a little girl, scared off by the monsters under her bed.
"Of course."
You got up and unlocked the door, as you walked into her arms.
"You don't owe me an explanation. But if you need to talk, I'm here."
"Did you hear any of it?"
"Yeah."
"We were childhood best friends. When I had to leave the country. I didn't say goodbye. I couldn't."
"How old were you?"
"About eight."
"You were just a kid!"
"It's still my fault."
"Honey no! You were so young, I can't imagine how it was for you. You were about to lose everything you knew. You can't spend the rest of your life carrying this weight!"
"Well even if it was a child's mistake, I have lost her forever. If I could go back in time I would."
"I believe you. Just give her a little time, and she'll see it too. What you two did today was amazing! You guys were synced like one. I saw a slight tiny smile on her face when you assisted those two goals."
"Really?"
"Yes, it was in her eyes. She is really good at keeping a straight face, but I'm better at reading people."
"Thank you. I haven't talked about this in years."
"I'm here. Now let's get you home, do you need a ride?"
"No, I'm good, I drove here."
"Okay. Anything, you call me, yeah?"
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We'll probably have four or five parts on this fic 🩷
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cjjferk · 16 hours
Text
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WW2 AU
PART 1
(+2scetches)
One September day, B. Wooster found out about Jeeves' disappearance from Aunt Dahlia's telegram.
Early summer of 1940. Bertram Wooster was completing his studies at an aviation school. At the same time his faithful valet, Jeeves, temporarily went to the service of the already mentioned relative at Brinkley Court and became the second jewel in the staff of servants besides the highly talented cook Anatole.
Due to the straitened financial situation of Uncle Tom, who complained more and more about the increasing taxes, the dearest aunt had to take forced measures and fire a few servants. She wanted to make a small sacrifice, and it might have been enough if one day her stingy husband had not cut the already small wages of the remaining servants. Many of them had applied for dismissal after that, and they were quite understandable.
This radical decision, although to a lesser extent, also affected Jeeves. Nevertheless, he continued to be a professional. He fulfilled his basic duties and often helped her, and her old friends get out of troubles.
Within a few months of Jeeves' work, they had become friends. Bertram almost felt like a third wheel in this idyll when he came to visit and boast of his achievements. Aunt Dahlia treasured her new valet and his unrivalled intelligence, and often jokingly promised in letters to her nephew that Jeeves would be returned safe and sound.
That was why she was seriously worried when Jeeves went missing. One clear day in early September, an elderly relative had let him go to London on his own business. In addition to this, it was Jeeves' duty to check on their good old Berkeley Mansions flat from time to time and keep it clean, so he planned to finish his business by evening and stay in the city overnight. He was supposed to return early the next morning. But that never happened. Not in two days. Not in three.
That night London was bombarded.
Something seemed to snap and collapse inside Bertie when he learnt that the search for Jeeves had been fruitless. Neither his relatives nor his club could shed any light on his mysterious disappearance.
The dark thoughts from which Bertram had fled during the day caught up with him at night. He would toss and turn on the hard bed, thinking of Jeeves's fate and replaying happy memories of their past, and in the daytime, tired and broken, he would give his duty to his country.
The whole situation seemed strange and unreal to him. The only thing that was found out for sure was that no one appeared in the apartment that miraculously survived the monstrous raids that day. It was dusty.
A couple of months had passed since the tragedy that divided Bertie's life into before and after. The war continued. He was learning to adjust to his new reality.
Sometimes he managed to carve out some free time and pop into London for a bit. The city where he had lived more than a third of his life was in ruins. The familiar places where he used to meet his friends and have a good time were empty.
Your humble servant avoided going into that very flat. There were too many vivid memories of that place, which painfully and mercilessly squeezed Bertram Wooster's poor skull. Indeed, the most precious person in his life had been living at his side all that time.
But still, as the sole and responsible owner of his property, he had to overpower himself. He had to go in and make sure that everything was all right. And one such day Bertie found himself there, in their former cozy home.
He walked in and looked around the living room: a layer of dust covering almost everything, furniture wrapped in covers, and only a few of his own things that he had left or forgotten here. The piano was covered with a cloth. Unbearably quiet and lifeless. There was nobody else to keep order here, nobody else's hand to create the home comfort. Sorrowful feelings pressed upon his chest.
He looked all over the flat. Almost all of it. There was only one room left to check.
After a moment's hesitation, Bertram pulled himself together and went into Jeeves's room. He had only glimpsed it from inside before. It was modest and not as spacious as his bedroom. Wooster sat down on the perfectly made bed, looking at what little was left of his dear friend, guide, and philosopher. His eyes rested on the various books dusting the shelves and cupboards.
He recognized one of them. It was the volume of Spinoza's writings he had given Jeeves for his birthday. No doubt Jeeves had read it all. As the rest of the books in the room. Bertie remembered his politely grateful smile and how he had clearly decided that this fellow deserved a whole library of those Spinozas.
He got out of bed. The code of the Woosters did not allow him to touch other people's things (even if those things belonged to a man who might never come back into his life), but something outweighed the young master's unwavering principles that day.
He didn't even notice how he left the flat with the book in his hands.
Of course, this sort of talisman invariably occupied a place in his suitcase. Though he had endeavored to handle the book with care, it had become tattered with the passage of time. Bertram often held it in his hands, flicked through the pages, ran his eyes over the neat pencil notes of its former owner. It calmed him a little in the most difficult moments of his pilot practice. He didn't understand anything about philosophy, but he treasured this book too damn much.
When they reunited, they were about a year away from the end of the war. The house with their previous flat was in a state of emergency damaged by the recent bombing raids, so Jeeves looked for a new flat for them while his employer was still undergoing treatment.
It happened some time later after their move-in. Jeeves was doing his household chores while the young master followed him around and chattered about anything that came into his head. It would have annoyed anyone, but not Jeeves.
You see, he had been abroad for a long time. However, he was not on holiday. Against his will, he was assigned important tasks and missions which he had to fulfil if he did not want to lose his freedom, his successful career, his reputation, his family, and friends. The special promise of making one particular person's life unbearable also left him no choice.
Every day, Jeeves felt like he was sitting on a powder keg: at any moment, a surprise inspection could come through the doors of his headquarters. A highly undesirable event for a man who kept fake documents, weapons, and encrypted data transmission devices in his flat. But all possible escape routes had been carefully worked out and memorized: Jeeves was always prudent. Otherwise, he had to have time to take a special pill before he found himself tied to a chair in a small interrogation room.
Keeping his charm and politeness, he was effective in getting the right information from the right people. His knowledge of psychology and accumulated experience of working with people helped him in this.
Jeeves' missions were rarely close to failure. His life depended on it.
The slightest mistake could have been fatal to him. Of course, he had learned much about the country during his training to pass for a typical Frenchman. His French had been practically flawless even before, which only made his life easier. But still somewhere in the back of his mind was the fear that he would be exposed for the smallest inaccuracy.
Jeeves lived under a false identity with a fake life story. He changed outwardly and inwardly. His gait, the way he spoke, his body language, his facial expressions. He had complete control over his body. Especially his gaze, which could tell a lot about his thoughts. It was exhausting.
After a long time of living in this way, he began to have trouble sleeping: he slept very little and sensitively or could not fall asleep at all.
He rarely had any dreams during the restless hours when he was able to fall asleep. Sometimes he had nightmares. But they were not about him. They were about Mr Wooster. Same scenario: church, flowers, closed coffin. Then it would slowly open from the inside. And Jeeves would wake up in a cold sweat.
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On sleepless nights, he was also tormented by thoughts of his former employer. Where was he now? Was he all right? Was he even alive? How did he feel about his disappearance? Would he want to see him again...?
Jeeves felt his mind, which he relied on in the most critical situations, begin to fail.
Meeting his employer again and doing the household chores for him, he felt himself slowly getting his head in order. He was enjoying the much-anticipated company of Mr Wooster. It soothed him and made him feel at home.
Jeeves opened the closet to put the ironed clothes in it. The young master standing next to him had been lost in the chatter and missed the moment when he should have pulled him back. In the next moment Jeeves had pulled the ruined book out of the wardrobe the same way as he pulled out foreign clothes. By the title of the book, he thought at first that his master was interested in serious literature. But on closer look and leafing through the book, he realized that it was his own.
Bertie watched it silently with his eye wide open. He couldn't just get rid of it, but at the same time he was ashamed to return a book in such a terrible condition to its owner. He planned to buy the exact same one soon, but until then, this volume of essays would be safely hidden away. But here his innocent secret was revealed. Jeeves looked at him with a silent question in his eyes.
He tried to justify himself, but this particular Wooster was a bad liar. Especially when the pent-up feelings were starting to overwhelm him. Jeeves often let his employer fool him about little things, but they both knew very well that it was actually impossible to do this. A couple of precise laconic remarks and B. Wooster found himself disarmed. He took a breath of air and began to speak.
Jeeves listened patiently to his poor master with a mask of calmness pulled over his face and dared not interrupt.
He was sorry. He was deeply sorry for the pain he had caused Mr Wooster and his dear people by his forced departure. However, Jeeves spoke little and reluctantly about what he had been doing in recent years and did not tell anyone about the very reasons for his disappearance. This information could have caused a lot of trouble.
And Bertram realized it. His Jeeves could not just disappear for no reason, he was sure of it. But sometimes, in the deep sleepless night, a wild guess would cross his weary mind. What if Jeeves had run away, had simply abandoned him? Of course, Bertie had scolded himself for such thoughts in the mornings then. And today when Jeeves prepares breakfast for him, reminds him to take his medicine, and helps him to dress, that idea seems to him on the verge of sanity. But then he was quite capable of finding irrefutable evidence in all sorts of little things. At that time, he did not know what to think: the search for the injured had ended, Jeeves remained on the list of missing persons.
Bertram stood before him and could find no more words. But words were no longer needed. Jeeves looked at him with bright, penetrating eyes and the silence that settled in the room was filled with peace. Jeeves was truly touched. He felt a huge boulder fall from his soul.
It seemed now, as his employer lowered his head dejectedly and hid his wet eyes from him, they had the perfect moment to dot the «i».
It's been a long day.
Of course, this book stayed in their new flat and became a symbol of something important for them. Bertram, Jeeves' poor love, had indeed taken desperate measures then.
However, Jeeves pointed out that such measures would no longer be necessary.
For now, he would be there for him. He came back.
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elryuse · 2 days
Note
Yandere Gaeul x male reader
SNAP!
YANDERE GAEUL X MALE READER
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Y/n gripped Gaeul's hand tightly, his knuckles white. The sterile hospital room smelled faintly of disinfectant, a stark contrast to the vibrant perfume that used to cling to her. The car crash had taken more than just her mobility, it had stolen the bubbly, energetic Gaeul he knew and loved.
"Don't worry," Y/n murmured, his voice rough with suppressed emotion. "We'll get through this together. You'll be back on stage, dazzling everyone again."
Gaeul's gaze, once playful and sparkling, was now a dull echo of its former self. A faint tremor ran through her hand, the only response she gave. Despair gnawed at Y/n. The doctors had been brutally honest; the nerve damage was extensive, dancing an uncertain future before them.
Days turned into weeks, then months. Y/n became Gaeul's constant companion, a rock amidst the storm raging within her. He spoon-fed her, helped her with physical therapy, and listened to her tirades of frustration. Slowly, a flicker of the old Gaeul reappeared, but it was laced with a bitterness that made his heart ache.
One evening, as Y/n helped her into bed, Gaeul's hand snaked around his wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. "Stay," she rasped, her voice a mere whisper.
Fear, a cold, slithering thing, coiled in Y/n's gut. The playful spark in her eyes had been replaced by a dark intensity that sent chills down his spine. He forced a smile, "I can't stay all night, Gaeul. You need your rest."
But her grip only tightened. "No," she hissed, her voice gaining strength. "Don't leave me. You can't leave me now."
Y/n tried to reason with her, but her words were laced with a possessiveness that terrified him. He knew then, with a sickening certainty, that the crash had shattered not just her body, but her mind too.
The tipping point came a week later. Y/n, his own life put on hold, had finally managed to secure a freelance writing job. As he excitedly shared the news with Gaeul, a terrifying transformation unfolded before his eyes.
Her face contorted in rage. "A job? What about me? Who will take care of me? You can't just abandon me now!"
Y/n tried to calm her down, explaining that he needed to work, to build a future for them both. But his words were drowned out by her hysterical screams. It was then he saw it – a glint of steel in her hand, a pair of medical scissors glinting under the bedside lamp.
He backed away, fear paralyzing him. "Gaeul, what are you doing?"
But she was beyond reason, her manic eyes locked on him. "You won't leave me," she shrieked, her voice a chilling parody of their former love songs. "You'll stay with me, forever."
Y/n scrambled back, escaping just as the scissors slashed through the air. The memory of that night haunted him even after he finally managed to leave. The guilt of abandoning her warred with the terror of staying.
Months passed. He moved on, tentatively building a new life, a life without Gaeul. Then, one sunny afternoon, as he strolled hand-in-hand with his new girlfriend, a black pickup truck screeched to a halt next to them.
His heart lurched. He knew, with a chilling certainty, who it was before he even saw her. Gaeul, her face a mask of cold fury, emerged from the truck. Her once vibrant eyes gleamed with a psychotic glint.
"There you are," she purred, her voice devoid of warmth. "I finally found you."
A scream tore from his girlfriend's throat as Gaeul lunged. The world dissolved into chaos. Y/n watched in horror as the woman he loved, twisted by obsession and fueled by madness, took his new happiness away, just as she intended to take everything else.
Gaeul knelt beside him, the cloying scent of her old perfume mixed with the metallic tang of blood now a permanent memory. Her smile, devoid of love, sent shivers down his spine.
"Now," she purred, her voice a chilling whisper, "We'll be forever together".
Y/n's world shrunk to the terrifying reality he now faced. He was trapped, forever bound to a love that had morphed into a monstrous obsession, leaving him with a future as bleak and horrifying as the glint in Gaeul's eyes.
The wedding bells seemed to mock Y/n as he stood stiffly at the altar. The sterile hospital room, the memory of a life stolen, felt a lifetime ago. Gaeul, resplendent in a white gown, beamed a manic smile that sent chills down his spine. Every saccharine vow felt like a knife twisting in his gut. Her possessive hand tightened around his, the diamond ring a cruel reminder of the freedom he'd lost.
The "honeymoon" was a twisted parody of romance. Gaeul clung to him with desperate intensity, her every touch laced with paranoia. Gone were the playful moments, replaced by a suffocating possessiveness. She monitored his every move, his phone calls screened, his emails checked. The world outside their gilded cage was slowly cut off.
Y/n became a prisoner in his own life. He missed the way Gaeul used to smell, a vibrant mix of perfume and backstage dust. He missed the easy laughter they once shared, the way she used to light up a room just by walking in. But voicing any discontent was met with icy glares and veiled threats. He saw a glimpse of the old Gaeul once, a flicker of sadness in her eyes as she watched a couple strolling hand-in-hand on TV. But it was fleeting, swallowed by the monster her obsession had become.
Months bled into years. Gaeul's career skyrocketed, fueled by the dark energy that coursed through her. Y/n, a ghost in her perfect life, became known as "the supportive husband," a carefully crafted image for public consumption. In the dead of night, she'd wake him up in a cold sweat, accusing him of infidelity with fabricated women. Each night, he died a little inside.
One day, a news report sent a jolt through the carefully constructed facade. A forgotten photo of a vibrant Gaeul, before the crash, flashed across the screen. The caption read: "Gaeul's mysterious past: Who was the man by her side?"
Gaeul, the picture of a concerned friend, visited the network demanding the photo's removal. Y/n, watching the news with a detached curiosity, felt a strange tug in his chest. Something about the photo, the way Gaeul's smile seemed genuine… it sparked a faint memory, a feeling he couldn't quite grasp.
Later that night, Gaeul, eyes blazing with murderous intent, stood before him. "You saw it, didn't you?" she snarled.
Fear choked Y/n's voice. "G-gaeul, I swear…"
"Don't lie!" she shrieked, brandishing a vial filled with a clear liquid. "This will take care of those pesky memories."
He watched in horror as she forced the liquid down his throat. The world spun, his thoughts dissolving into a hazy fog. The next morning, he woke up with a blank slate, the past a blurry mess. Gaeul cradled his face, her smile triumphant.
"Now," she whispered, "you'll only remember me. We can finally be happy, forever."
Y/n looked back at her, a stranger in a familiar face. He smiled, a hollow echo of his former self. Gaeul, her twisted love a twisted victory, had finally won. But in the vacant depths of his eyes, a single tear rolled down his cheek, a silent testament to the life, the love, and the man he once was, forever lost in the labyrinth of her obsession.
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