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#can we talk about how beautiful the horror part was
goryhorroor · 6 months
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Video eassays part 2? Please?
gladly (part one: x)
the shining and the lighthouse: the horror of isolation
monstrous menstruations: the dehumanising of women in horror
the feminist horrors of jennifer's body, teeth, and a girl walks home alone at night
why the shining is terrifying
why you should watch disturbing horror movies
a monstress comes of age: horror & girlhood
jennifer's body & the horror of bad marketing
scary faces and loud sounds - analog horror
the nostalgic nightmare of skinamarink
queer representation in modern horror
the real reason the thing (1982) is better than the thing (2011)
how to make possession horror/the exorcist
the existential horror of david cronenberg's camera
the tale of two sisters / the unsettling mise-en-scene
what happened to japanese horror?
nope: the rise of existential horror
deconstructing the horror musical
pennywise: how to make a horror villain
alien - the art of horror
green room: why dumb decisions matter
let's talk about goosebumps scariest episode
the catharsis of body horror
the thing is the best horror movie of all time
what we can learn from korean horror
cure / creating the scariest non-horror film
the rocky horror picture show is the most important cult film ever made
ambiguous horror of the wailing
elements of horror - screams in horror movies
noroi: realistic j-horror
kairo / anatomy of the scariest scene ever
psycho / how alfred hitchcock manipulates an audience
the faith & horror of the exorcist
jurassic park is actually a horror movie
the horror (and problem) of sinister
the horror romance of let the right one in and let me in
mainland chinese horror & censorship
the most profound ending in horror film history?
courage the cowardly dog: an intro to horror
why do people dislike smart horror films?
exploring netflix's most unsettling found footage
universal monsters - why are classic horror movies still popular?
strange phenomena: the films of dario argento
exploring cinema's most controversial horror movie
why do horror games sound so beautiful?
atmosphere makes a great horror movie (alien 1979)
horror comedy: juxtaposed genre
why perfect blue is terrifying
the thing: horror in isolation
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asuyaka · 5 months
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Gojo-Sensei has a husband?!
★ - drabble s part of m' first Satoru oneshot !!૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
☆ - Gojo Satoru x Househusband! Reader
♡ - f m' manga readers, how we feelin' 'bout nurse kenny ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ (she's m wife m callin' it rn!!)
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Gojo [Name], the loved and unknown husband of The Strongest, Gojo Satoru.
Satoru was at work, most likely teaching the first years he loved to talk about. You were at home. Cleaning the house and making preparations for dinner when Satoru got home like the good husband you were.
You brought out a chicken broth cube from the cupboard, brushing the slight dust on your pretty light-blue apron that Satoru brought for you (then ended up fucking you in but that's on days when you're being a brat).
Your eyes scan the countertop, looking for the knife holder until they land on a sage-green bag dusted with flowers that you hand-painted. It was Satoru's lunch bag that he had forgotten.
You weren't a sorcerer, but you're able to see curses. Ironically, that's how you and Satoru met. A younger you (who just got unemployed) was walking home when something you couldn't describe stopped you in the alleyway you took sometimes as a shortcut.
It was tall, with eyes running along its skinny, dark-red arm. You were only twenty-two at the time and have only ever seen things like that in shitty horror-flicks. You never thought they were real.
As if you were in a cliché love story, a patch of white hair stands in front of you. He has sunglasses on despite the sun being nowhere in sight.
Due to you being (obviously) weaker than the average sorcerer, Satoru always discouraged you from going to Jujutsu High unless it was an emergency.
You huff diligently, grabbing the lunch bag and putting your shoes on. You'll make sure Satoru gets his lunch. What kind of husband would you be if you didn't?
Turns out, the people at Jujutsu High are either scary or odd. There's absolutely no in-between.
You've only been at Jujutsu High a handful of times. More times than not, it was to help Megumi.
You make your way to the main school building, holding the bag close to your chest for safekeeping. You didn't bust your ass making cute shapes out of food just for Satoru to go eat fast food instead.
Reaching the door of Satoru's class, you knock softly. It’s quiet, and you guess Satoru must be out training with his students. You turned around to try and find just where the training grounds could be on this huge campus. 
All of a sudden, the door opens and there he is. Your beautiful husband, wearing his black blindfold and Jujutsu uniform. “Baby? What are you doing here?”
Baby. That’s right, you’re his baby. No one else's. “You left your lunch, so I…” Your voice trails off as you gesture toward the bag in your hands. Satoru smiles, opening the door wider and pulling you in.
He keeps your hands intertwined, softly pushing you against a chair. “You’re so nice, baby. Going out of your way to bring me my lunch?” His hands are on your cheeks now, still smiling sweetly even with a saccharine voice.
Your face flushes and your hands are stiff. You don’t know where his students are, but you’re sure they’ll be back soon. This is risky— irresponsible even. 
“Satoru, ‘s risky..” You mutter under your breath, your hands cupping his. They’re warm like they always are when you two are close. You wish you could see what his eyes looked like, but they’re for his comfortability, you’re aware.
“You know I love you, right baby?” He leans closer, to the point you can smell the cologne on him. It’s the one you bought him a few weeks ago because it smelt like home. 
Satoru smells like home.
Shakily you nod. “Are you sure this is safe…? I don’t want you—”
“Shh… let me worry about all that.”
And with that, he closes the space between your lips. Satoru’s strong– dominant even; and no matter what he does, it always manages to show through his actions.
His tongue breaches past your lips, slotting perfectly against yours. You can hear the clicking of teeth as Satoru sits across your lap. It’s hot and you can feel your cock start to rise in your pants. 
“Wore this cute fuckin’ apron all f’me–” He plants a kiss on your cheek, your face flushed and breathing heaved.
“Satoru– sir, I need—”
“But baby…” He whines.
He fucking whines.
His face is pouty and it looks like he’s getting off your lap. Is he denying you? You haven’t done anythin’ wrong– did he give you instructions and you didn’t see them?
“I’m at work, and as much as I want to fuck you ‘till you can’t think– you can’t have my students seein’ you all messed up like that, can you?”
Satoru’s words bring your attention to your appearance. Your apron is messed up and so is your hair (most likely from Satoru gripping on it). Your lips are slightly swollen and your cock is half-hard.
Embarrassment brings you back to your senses, your arms covering what's between your thighs. If you stood up, your apron would cover it (hopefully), but your pants weren’t going to do you any justice. “‘M sorry ‘toru…”
Satoru cocks his head, sitting on his desk and crossing his legs. “It’s okay baby, I know you just can’t help yourself when I’m around.” His tone sounds mean like he’s mocking you. It’s condescending.
“But that’s what makes you my good boy, isn’t it?” His foot brings the chair closer to the point where your body is sandwiched between his legs. “Always so plaint f’me to fuck you, right?”
God. You can’t do this, and it isn’t helping your slowly growing problem go down.
Satoru must sense your nervousness (he knows you and your emotions like the back of your hand) because his expression turns soft again. “Just wait till I get home, okay baby? Relax for me.”
His fingers caress your cheek gently. It’s lulling you, pulling you in. Like he’s a siren, and you’re a plaint, very easy sailor.
You nod because you’re his good boy and you want it to stay that way.
Satoru smiles before pulling you in again for a kiss.
It’s gentler this time. There’s less kiss and more gentleness behind it. It feels like the kiss you shared at the altar. It makes you calmer, it makes you happy.
All of a sudden, the door slams open. Revealing three, very surprised teenagers.
“Gojo-sensei!?”
“Gojo-san?”
Satoru breaks the kiss, briefly smiling coyly at you before looking at his students. “Hello, my favorite first-years! I didn’t know lunch had already ended…”
A boy with pink hair and what seems to be two sets of eyes stares at you, then back at Satoru. “Lunch ended five minutes ago. Nobara stayed to eat more watermelon.”
The girl, who is shorter than all of them and who you assume is Nobara, kicks the boy in the knee. “Shut it Yuuji! Not my fault somebody decided to eat all my food while I was gone!”
“Gojo-san, I thought you’d be at home.”Megumi looks at you with a confused expression. Your heart tugs in fondness when he says ‘home’ like all three of you share it together (legally, you do but Megumi would never admit that).
“Why would Gojo-sensei be at home? He has to teach us, stupid.” Nobara rolls her eyes, before pointing at you accusingly. 
“All I wanna know is why this random man and Gojo-sensei were kissing!”
Satoru steps off the desk, grabs your arm, and pulls you up as well. He slings his arm around your shoulder, slightly leaning on you with a bright smile on his face. “Yuuji, Nobara, this is my husband, [Name]!”
“Husband?!” Yuuji and Nobara parrot, staring at each other before staring back at you. 
Nobara notices it first, the sleek ring on your finger. There’s an initial that she can’t make out but can only assume it’s the one that belongs to her teacher.
“Why would anyone date you?” She says suddenly, causing Yuuji to laugh.
Megumi rolls his eyes. “I thought that at first too. Gojo-san is too good for him.”
Satoru gasps. “Rude! You cried during our wedding, or do I have to ask [Name] to pull up the photos?”
“Wedding?! Why wasn’t I invited?” Nobara looks at Satoru like he committed a war crime. 
You don’t notice it, but somehow Yuuji is right in front of you. “Hello! I’m super glad Gojo-sensei has someone to love!! He’s always saying something about how he misses his ‘hubby’ randomly during class but we never thought he was being serious!”
You smile bashfully. You never thought Satoru would think of you during work, and for him to call you his “hubby”? 
Megumi stands beside him, handing you a book. “That’s because Gojo-sensei can’t shut up. They’re so lovey-dovey behind closed doors it makes me sick.”
Yuuji smiles. “That’s ‘cause they’re in love Megumi! Shouldn’t it be sweet that your dads love each other?”
Megumi frowns. “They aren’t my dads.”
“They totally are! You called Gojo-sensei dad one time during a mission, don’t think I’d ever forget that!” Nobara teases, holding Satoru’s ring in her other hand to presumably examine it.
Satoru claps his hands. “Okkayy! I appreciate that you two love my husband, not as much as me of course, but he’s got stuff to do! And we have to learn about the boring sorcerer families. Ew.”
His students groan but make their way to their seats. Satoru walks you to the door of the classroom, a small apologetic smile on his face. “I can’t walk you all the way to the door, Yaga would kill me, but I’ll see you at home?”
You nod with a soft smile on your face.
Satoru kisses you one last time. It’s more of a peck than anything, then leans into your ear. “Prep yourself for me before I get home okay? I have to reward you for being so good today.”
Blush rises up to your cheeks as you nod again. Pushing your hands down to your lap and turning away from his classroom door. The blush gets harder when you hear a loud “See you at home baby!” from the door.
Satoru watches you until he can’t anymore. A relieved sigh leaves his face as he closes the door and sits on his desk. Legs crossed and a ring adorning his finger, with your initials on them.
“Ask away, and I’ll show you any pictures you want.”
Yuuji and Nobara visibly light up and begin asking questions about where he met you, how long you’ve been together, and how long you’ve been married, plus the pictures of Megumi crying.
He shows them every photo and answers every question without hesitation.
After all, they’re all questions about you, his husband.
And he knows you’ll be home waiting for him with dinner, and dessert.
Your ass (that he loves to watch jiggle every time he fucks you), and ice cream.
He loves you, and he’s glad his students (and son) love you too.
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explicit-tae · 6 months
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Metamorphosis
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An alternate world in which you encounter someone in the middle of the night - a man seemingly hurt. Much to your luck, you were extremely wrong. (Teaser)
@juju-227592 @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @castlewolfsbane @babycandy111 @chimmy-licious @whipwhoops @chimmisbae
Word Count: 8.669
Warning: demon jungkook, unsolicited touching/kissing/groping, ass slapping, humiliation kink, degradation kink, public sex, dirty talking, slight coercion, fingering, oral (f receiving), spanking, unprotected sex, blood play/licking, biting, creampie, squirting,
Alternate Universe | Halloween Masterlist | PART 2
“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had. 
The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.
“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.
“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”
The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.
“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now? 
“The pain will not last long, my beautiful human…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in Hell. We will be waiting for you.”
You cross your arms in front of yourself firmly, shivering as the heavy rain fully engulfs you. You’re soaking wet and obviously pissed. You had gotten off of work late due to your boss being an asshole - you had stayed hours past your scheduled time out. Usually you would have not cared because extra hours meant extra money - but today was different. Every Friday you made it your mission to visit the cemetery and place flowers onto your mothers grave. Since you have gotten off of work late into the night, there was no time to stop for flowers (and it would be useless due to the rain).
Not only were you stuck in the rain, but you had to walk the entire way to the cemetery, then home. There were no buses running at this time and that meant you were in for an hour walk home after the already 30 minute walk to the cemetery. Let’s not forget that you saw your boss drive right past you without any eye contact.
The sky is dark and starless and there appeared to be little to no street lights on. The only light you do get comes from the moon high above. You've seen this before in a horror movie. A lone girl walking at night and bam, a killer chasing after her. Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking like this at this time, but you couldn’t help it. You were utterly hopeless with no one to call at this time - and even if you did, it’s pouring rain and your phone is tucked deep into your purse to not get it any more damage than it already was.
Your feet ached as you reached the cemetery. The rain was dying down, but you were already soaking wet and it was the least of your concerns now. It took a few more strolls until you reached the familiar headstone belonging to your mother. You sigh, dropping to your knees. You would regret it later while getting the mud stains off of your work clothes, but you were off the next two days and that was enough to not think about it further.
Visiting your mother was bittersweet. Sometimes you’d go just to pay your respects, other times you would speak as if she was there with you - talking about your day and what was new in your life. Now you were exhausted and your body ached, you remained silent and enjoyed the quiet company. 
You’re unsure how long you’ve sat there, but you noticed that the rain began to pick up once more. You knew by tomorrow, you would be sick and decided to call it a night. You’d probably even decide to visit once more when the rain cleared up the following day to bring the flowers you couldn’t bring today.
You got off of your knees, touching the gravestone lightly before making your way out of the cemetery. Your eyes remained forward as your feet strolled through the grassy field. You cursed at your luck - your clothing stuck to you and it was becoming uncomfortable to walk.Your shoes are covered in mud and grime and it’s nearly pitch black in said cemetery, the moon shining but so much.
Your feet halt in their tracks. You blink your eyes, zoning in on a figure not far away from you. The figure appeared to be hunched over, on their own knees. You clench your burse tighter, eyes blinking away the droplets of rain to try to get a better look. 
The moonlight shines off of the figure and it appears to glow - it’s a person, no doubt. You ponder if they’re there for the same reason you are - but not everyone would be caught in the rain paying respect to a deceased loved one, right?
You begin to step closer to the figure, unsure of what your body is doing. Your mind is screaming out alarm bells, that something wasn’t right and this could end up going completely wrong. 
The figure’s head lifts up, shining eyes glowing in the dark. A man, you note, just as drench in the rain as you were. Black hair sticks to his scalp and covers the majority of his forehead. Just as before, he appeared to be shining underneath the moonlight.
“Are you o-okay?” you stutter out, uneasy with the intense stare of the man. You can make out his features - chiseled jawline, sharp eyes and full lips. 
Your throat swallows a lump, body visibly stiffening upon noticing the man's eyes turning a shade of crimson. There was no possible way you were seeing things.
The man begins to lift from his knees and once onto his feet, your mind is screaming at you to run. The man is tall - and athletically built. He wore a suit of the sorts, completely black that it nearly disguises him in the dark scenery. 
Your heart is beating outside your chest, your mind coming back to reality when he begins to step closer to you. His feet snap a twig beneath them. You want to run - you can even feel the way your body jerks to do so, but you cannot.
What?
What the fuck?
Your heart beats even louder that even the pouring rain is no match for it. Your hands clench your purse tighter against you.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Why is it becoming harder to breathe?
Your throat tightens.
Your body begins to shudder, trembling. You’re unsure what in the world is going on with you right now. You’re trembling, feeling a rush of cold air go through you one moment and the next, you’re burning up. Your body temperature hightens, as if your blood is boiling at a rapid pace. Your clothes being wet and sticking to you already didn’t make anything better.
“You,”
Your eyes widen hearing the man's voice so clear - as if there wasn’t rain pouring. The wind kicked up, swirling around you, yet still, his voice was coherent. 
“are such a beautiful little human.”
Air filled your lungs once more and finally, you were able to breathe. Your mind swirls around on his words - a beautiful little human? What did that mean?
The man appears in front of you in a blink of an eye - how you didn’t fall back with a scream, you’re truly unsure. He’s tall, towering over you with his menacing gaze - eyes appearing even darker with a mysterious glint to them. Those eyes…they weren’t human, you note, they couldn’t be. Even if his overall appearance to be that of a human man - there was no man you met with such crimson eyes. 
The man offers you a smile - no, a smirk. It didn’t appear genuine like a smile someone would give you upon introducing themselves. This was a cunning one; devious.
You do not realize that you’ve dropped your purse until it hits your feet. Your body still feels hot, temperature rising every second. 
You feel the man's hand place itself against the skin of your cheek - they were calloused and even hotter than your own skin. His thumb traces the outline of your lips and you can hear he’s humming to himself.
“Your heart is beating so loud, beautiful. Are you afraid of me?” the man questions. “Do I frighten you? Or do I make you nervous?”
“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” you manage to say - more stutter. Breathing was difficult enough, but speaking appeared to be a battle. 
The man chuckles. “A prayer?”
“I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers-”
You feel your throat tighten once more, this time by the man's hands. He forces you closer to him. “Shut up.” he hisses. “Your prayers do not affect me, beautiful. It makes me want to ruin you even more.”
Your body was feeling weird. Goosebumps prickled your skin - you can feel it beneath your clothing - and your stomach was beginning to bubble. You closed your eyes to not look into his eyes, but even then you could see them glaring at you.
“Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before-” your prayer is cut short when a pair of lips are against yours. You’re struggling against the lips, a muffled scream dying in your throat.
The man removes himself from you, but he holds you close. His hands wrap tightly beneath your chin. Your eyes squeeze shut, heart thumping rapidly.
“You can feel it, right, beautiful?” The man's words are sultry, coming out more as a moan than a regular statement. “I know what it’s doing to you. I know you can feel it…right here…”
You gasp, feeling a tense grip between your legs. Your eyes snap open, the crimson eyes .boring right into your own. You want to jolt away from his prying hands - to push this man, no, this monster away.
“I know, beautiful…” the man sing-songs. “...the arousal feels amazing. Doesn’t it feel like you’re sinning for me, Y/N?”
You froze. Your eyes couldn't even grow wider. This man knew your name.
This man, whoever he was, knew you. He knew you’d be here visiting your mothers grave - that or he followed you.
“Yes, beautiful, I know your name.” the man chuckles, his hand rubbing along your clothed head. “I’ve always known your name. I’ve known of your existence since the day you were born.”
This man wasn’t human - your heart told you. His eyes, his words; he was something otherworldly. 
“Dear Father, Thank You for protecting me. Thank You for the angels that you assign to watch over me. I can be at peace today knowing that my very life is in Your hands-”
You squirm feeling a sickly substance upon your cheek. The man is licking you now - up your jaw, to your chin and now your cheek. His fingers hold your face in place in a tight grip. He reaches your ear, flicking the lobe. “Praying won’t stop me from having you, beautiful.”
This monster was doing something to you and your body. You would never feel this way. He had you under a spell - your legs are clenching against his prying hand. You could feel a pool of slick sticking to your panties - and so does the man.
“I need your help in this battle. I cannot walk alone, Lord-”
“Ah, that prayer!” the man cackles. “You feel it running through you, beautiful. The lust. You’re moaning right underneath my hand, beautiful. I can smell the sweet smell of your pussy.”
The man's words are so vulgar that you’re unable to respond. His hands cup your clothed heat even tighter. The hand that once grips your chin now loosens so he could push you closer against him.
“You’re a monster.” you hiss - but it’s not a regular hiss. No, the man notes this tone. It’s a moan of disgust, but a moan nonetheless.
“I am.” the man chuckles. “A demon straight from Hell, beautiful.”
Your throat releases a scream when your hair is yanked backwards. Your eyes are towards the sky, the droplets of rain blinding your eyes. You continue to scream when you feel teeth against your neck, biting down.
You want to fight the man - this predator. This demon. Your prayers aren’t working and appear to be falling on deaf ears. 
The man shudders at the taste of your blood. So pure and not laced with any impurities. But he wasn’t here for your blood - no, this was just a part of the ritual. 
“My name is Jungkook.” the man purrs, licking his lips of your delicious blood. “Finally, you’re mine.”
You cough. Your hands are clenching onto Jungkook’s chest unwillingly. You’re trembling, eyes fluttering. 
“You’re afraid of me, beautiful?” Jungkook tsks. His tongue licks the wound of your neck, twirling it up to your chin and to your lips. He presses an open mouth kiss onto your lips and moans. 
“I’m not yours.” you wheeze out.
“Oh…” Jungkook could only laugh. “...but you are, beautiful.”
Jungkook’s hand squeezes your ass. “I can smell your arousal. You’re so wet for me, Y/N. You’re clenching and unclenching around nothing.”
You feel ashamed by how true Jungkook’s words were. You want to cry out - you didn’t belong to this demon! You were a part of your local Church and attended said church with your mothers for years. You prayed constantly, remained God as your main priority and prayed away whatever petty sins you committed. 
“You belonged to me the day your mother gave birth to you, my love.” Jungkook’s hand pulls at your clothes. Your shirt rips in seconds, revealing your bra beneath. “That was part of the deal, after all.”
Deal?
Your hands grasp Jungkook’s wrist when his hands tug along your pants. You didn’t match his strength, and like your shirt, your pants are ripped to pieces. 
“I won’t submit to you, demon.”
Jungkook wants to coo at your cuteness. No matter how many times you denied him, he wouldn’t listen. You were going to be his regardless of what you felt - he had waited decades to get what he was promised. You had no skill, will or strength to deny him anything - you were already aroused. Soon, you would be begging for him and he would give you what you’ll be begging for.
You are turned away from him and flipped. Your face meets the muddy ground. You squirm when you feel your hips being lifted by Jungkook’s arm. The position is filthy and you want to be removed from this humiliating state.
Jungkook marvels at the sight of you - face down, ass up. So cute and exactly how you were expected to be. One hand grips your ass, gently rubbing before he brings his hand back and slaps it roughly.
You scream once more at the impact, and again and again. Jungkook continued, crimson eyes darkening at the sight of you squirming beneath him. 
“P-Please stop!”
Jungkook hums. “Why?” He slaps your ass once more, the sound like a melody to his ears. His hands trail between your legs to rub gently. “You’re so wet for me.”
Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth biting your lips to repress a moan. You can feel yourself grow wetter at the second and that’s what frightens you. You didn’t want to fall into temptation due to the demons hold against you.
“Let’s see just how filthy you are, huh?”
“N-No!”
Jungkook fingers hooks between your panties. He pushes them aside and finds his mouth watering. “Such a whore you truly are, beautiful. So wet and clenching around nothing.”
You couldn’t help the groan that comes from your throat when he rubs a thumb against it. Your thighs quiver to close, but Jungkook only slaps your throbbing ass once more to punish you.
Jungkoom continues to rub along your clit, fingers sliding between your folds effortlessly. He can feel his pants tightening at just the sight of you.
“So wet.” Jungkook grunts. He smirks, fingers dangerously close to your opening. “I can just slide…”
“N-No!” you gasp, but even with your pleas, your legs widen for him. 
“...right in.” Jungkook enters two fingers inside of you. So warm and wet - and inviting. He pumps his fingers inside, marveling at how you take him so well. “You’re milking my fingers, beautiful. Good little whore you are, huh?”
You shake your head, eyes squeezing shut. 
Why?
Why were you moaning for this demon? Why was your body not cooperating with your brain? Why were you so wet and aroused with such sinful acts?
“J-Jungkook…please!”
Jungkook groans. “That’s right, beautiful. Just give in.” he murmurs, his fingers picking up the pace. “It’ll be over if you just submit to me.”
“N-No…” You don’t want to moan any more. You can feel a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you. He doesn’t allow you to fall forward. He lifts you and presses you against him. “Taste yourself.” he hisses and before you can protest, he enters two of his fingers inside of your mouth.
Your tongue swirls against his fingers unwillingly, your juices hitting your tongue. 
“I wonder if you taste as divine as you smell, beautiful.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, popping his fingers from your mouth. “Give me a taste.”
“N-No…”
Jungkook hums. “No?”
You nod your head. 
“Then why are you leaning against me, beautiful? Why are your hips jerking for more pleasure?”
Jungkook flips you once more. He’s laid against the ground and has you hovering above him. You’re firmly in his grasp, unable to escape. His teeth - so sharp and canine like - bite at your underwear until they’re as ripped as your shirt and pants were. 
You gasp when Jungkook places you on his lips. You’re sitting directly on his tongue, palms back against his abdomen for balance as he licks between your folds. 
Jungkook grunts. “So sweet, beautiful.” he murmurs before going back to ravishing you. 
Your eyes are unable to remove themselves from the sight before you. Jungkook’s tongue - long with and split at the end, rapidly lick upon your clit and between the folds. You could no longer hide your moans, allowing the pleasure to run through you.
This was wrong.
This is a demon - no matter how attractive he may be, this was a demon.
You consider yourself a child of God, fully committed to your faith.
But Jungkook using his tongue to pleasure you felt far too amazing to not moan - too amazing to protest his advances any longer. And, as sad as it sounds, far too amazing for you to utter the word of God in hopes of stopping him.
Jungkook’s nails dig into the skin of your inner thigh. Your scent intoxicates his mind, your slick sliding against his tongue. Finally, you were his - and now you weren’t refusing him. Your moans are loud - even with the rain starting up once more. You were giving in to your rightful urges as his.
Jungkook’s eyes flicker to your face. Such a beautiful face contorted with pleasure. Mouth agape and moaning with pleasure, the droplets of rain trailing down your skin. It glistens beneath the moonlight.
“My beautiful human.” Jungkook growls. His tongue swipes at your clit once more. “Pleasure yourself against my tongue.”
Jungkook slaps your thigh in encouragement. He wants you completely submerged in pleasure that you would willingly participate in.
Your hips jerk forward and onto his tongue. A deep moan comes from your throat and you now find yourself thrusting onto Jungkook - a demon. Your eyes squeeze shut, wanting nothing more than to feel your release.
Jungkook’s hands roam your body, tongue laying flat while you use him. They trail up your thighs to your hips, wrapping around them to encourage you to go faster. He then slides them up your sides to grasp your breast from your bra. He squeezes them, pinching the sensitive bubs of your nipples.
“J-Jungkook, I-I can’t take it!”
Jungkook pinches your nipple once more. He clamps down onto them so hard that you scream out, lifting yourself from his tongue, juices releasing.
And Jungkook’s laps every drop, a groan rumbling deep within his soul.
Whatever soul Jungkook had deep within Hell that was.
You fall limp against his legs, legs quivering.
“My poor beautiful human.” Jungkook moves your body so that he is on top of you. “Came so hard that you can barely function.”
Jungkook leans down to swipe his tongue against your cheek once more, the reason you’re unsure of. 
“I’m going to make you cum over and over again.”
The rain falls even harder, but the majority of it is hidden beneath Jungkook’s body. He kicks off his pants along with his underwear.
You can’t see it, but you feel how large Jungkook is when he forces himself inside of you. You feel like you’re being stretched to the max. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly, breathing hitching.
“Beautiful human…so tight.” Jungkook growls. “Made just for me. My perfect little human.”
Jungkook doesn’t allow you the luxury to adjust to his size. He thrusts deeply inside of you, cracking his hips harshly. Your back hits against the muddy dirty roughly with each thrust. You were going to be filthy once this ended - if it ever did. This was a demon here with you? Did a demon’s stamina ever go out? It wasn’t like he was human.
“Jungkook, please!” you plead with him, but Jungkook doesn’t want to hear it. His teeth clamp down onto your skin, biting it harshly enough to release blood. “I-I can’t handle-”
“You can!” Jungkook hisses. He leans back to admire your disheveled appearance. You were covered in mud, blood and soaking wet. Your hair is sticking to you and your eyes are struggling to stay open. But to him - you were perfect. “Finally mine.”
There’s a bulge in your stomach, reminding you just who you were fucking. Jungkook is a demon.
A demon.
You were going to Hell surely.
There’s blood trailing down your thigh, but still Jungkook refuses to halt his abusive thrusts.
“Your soul, your mind, your heart and your body belong to me.” Jungkook growls, appearing utterly animalistic. “All mine, Y/N. My beautiful human. And all it took was a deal from your father.”
Your father?
You didn’t have a father - physically. You were raised with two mothers; when you grew up you never had a reason to look for who your biological father was. You asked your mothers, sure, but it was stated he was someone who provided them sperm and nothing more.
“He got what he wanted and in return…”
Jungkook flips you onto your knees. He wraps an arm around your neck and enters you once more. He continues the brutal pace, skin slapping and echoing off of the trees. You’re not sure if you were going to survive this. Your insides hurt - even if it came with brief pleasure. Your body was aching just as bad and Jungkook showed no chance of stopping.
“...in return…I got you, beautiful human of mine…” Jungkook grunts. “...you’ll be coming back home with me to Hell.”
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It was your alarm that had woken you up that following morning. You jerked upward, eyes scanning the room. Your room.
You were in your room.
You inhaled deeply and exhaled just the same. Your ears are ringing and your fluttering eyes are attempting to adjust to the sunlight coming from your bedroom window.
Your aching legs manage to move. You swing them around your bed and lift yourself. You managed to make it to your mirror and you gasped.
You weren’t dirty nor covered in mud like you expected. That couldn’t have been a dream - everything felt far too realistic to be one. You were intimate with a demon - he had told you that you were his because of a father you never met.
Your eyes scan the scars and bruises littering your body. There’s hand marks upon your throbbing skin, one around your neck and two on both sides of your waist. You can see the bite marks that drew blood on your neck and another between your thighs.
You want to cry, but felt that even that would be hypocritical. You allowed a demon into your body - to have something precious that should have belonged to your human partner. You have learned from an early age that demons were tricksters and you had fallen into their trap.
You shower until the hot water runs cold - and even then you did not want to remove yourself. You washed your skin countless times in hopes to rid yourself of the sick feeling, but it never left. You could feel his hands on your body now as if he was here - his teeth and his tongue grazing along onto your skin.
Your mind betrayed you as did your body. There’s flashes replaying the long night Jungkook had bestroved for you. How he had taken you so roughly against the cemetery ground, both of you covered in blood. How he had flipped you and taken you against a tree, allowed you on top of him - almost every inch of the area you had been fucked on.
You clench your legs together and clench your fists. You dried your body, trying to rid your thoughts of the sinful encounter - but they wouldn’t leave. You were beginning to feel the uncomfortable throb between your legs once more.
Pray.
You had to pray. 
You dressed in fresh clothing and went towards your vanity. Your rosary would be there. You grasp it in your hands, ready to send a prayer when the rosary begins to burn in your hands. You screamed, dropping it to the floor and watching with wide eyes as it began to burn through the hardwood floor. 
“No…”
You trembled, not taking your sight off of the burning rosary.
You were too far gone - you were damned to Hell.
The tears finally came. You have dropped to your knees now, praying for forgiveness for the sins you committed. Your God would understand - he had to. You didn’t want to sleep with the demon that was Jungkook. You had no choice. He had you underneath a demonic spell that had you moaning his name, crying tears of lust and pleasure…
Had you been screaming his name, claiming how much you wanted Jungkook…
You wrapped your arms around him and begged for more - each and every time…
The feeling was returning. The familiar arousal between your legs and the warm feeling against your skin. You lay upon the cool hardwood floor, wanting nothing more than for your temperature to subside.
Why you?
Why were you being cursed by Jungkook?
What was the supposed deal Jungkook made with your biological father? And even so, you didn’t even know the man. Was he even still alive?
“Beautiful human.”
Your body jerks at the sound of Jungkook - his sultry voice.
Jungkook leans against the nearest wall of your bedroom. He’s sporting all black once more, this time a fitted shirt and slacks. His eyes are the familiar shade of crimson and they watch you closely. 
“Look at you. In a pool of your own arousal once more.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smirk placed on such beautiful lips…
You shake your head. This wasn’t your mind thinking - it had to be the demonic spell.
“I have not put you under any spell.”
Can he read your mind?
“I can read your mind, beautiful.” Jungkook states. “You can learn to read mine. Once we venture to Hell.”
You aren’t going to Hell. You were going to ask God for his forgiveness - to be allowed to be underneath his guidance once more. 
“God…” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “...will never take you. He never had you to begin with, beautiful. Why do you think it was so easy for me to get my hands on you?”
The familiar tightening in your throat, the heat radiating your skin and the goosebumps were returning. Your clit throbbed uncomfortably as if your body knew Jungkook was near. 
“Your body will always submit to me, beautiful. As it belongs to me.”
No.
No.
No!
“I know you feel the arousal once more. How wet you are. You’re such a needy little thing, huh?” Jungkook cackles loudly. “Touch yourself, beautiful. See how wet you are.”
No.
You weren’t going to.
If so, why were your hands going beneath your shorts to touch yourself?
“It’s okay, beautiful. Touch yourself and watch me.”
You want to deny him the satisfaction of watching you, but you’re already succumbing to his demonic spell. You were positive that he’s done something to your mentality that you could never deny him.
“I-I can’t.” you snatch your hands from your shorts, feeling flush with embarrassment.
“That just means you want me to, huh?” Jungkook is kneeling down beside you in the blink of an eye. You want to ask how he does it, but you’re afraid of the answer. You weren’t ready to go down a rabbit hole of demonic entities and powers.
“No…?”
“Is that a question, beautiful?”
Jungkook’s already tugging your pants down and taping your thighs aside. He’s amused by how easily you give into him.
“Go ahead and tell me no.” Jungkook plays with the lace of your underwear. Your clit is visible to him - wet and inviting as always. “Then I'll leave.”
“You’ll leave?”
Don’t sound disappointed, you think. You wanted this demonic entity gone - right?
“Of course. Tell me to leave, Y/N. And I’ll go.”
Jungkook hooks a finger inside your laced panties with a shake of his head. So divine and so sweet - even after he completely ruined you not long ago.
Tell him to go.
Tell him to leave you alone and to never return.
Be stern, you think. Resist him and the impure thoughts of this demon.
But you don’t. Those words never leave your lips. 
“Already so wet, my beautiful human.” Jungkook enters a finger inside of you for a second. He then removes it and enters it inside his mouth. “And taste so heavenly.” he cackles. “Heavenly for someone going to Hell.”
You don’t respond to Jungkook’s words. He’s already entering his fingers back inside of you. He pumps slowly at first to get you comfortable - and then he’s rapid. The sounds of his moving fingers echo off the walls of your bedroom - mixed with your moans of pleasure. It sends shockwaves throughout your body.
It’s so sinful, you think. How when you were a child with your mothers going to church, even if the three of you got awkward stares - how you read the bible alongside them. You prayed every night before bed, before every meal - you needed to know where exactly you went wrong.
“Still blaming yourself, sweetheart?” Jungkook’s so beautiful, you think. You recall many times hearing that demons were often beautiful to trick you into sinning with them. “I told you, you were destined to me long before you were even born.”
You feel Jungkook’s fingers hitting your g-spot, curling inside of you with each thrust. It’s as if he was going deeper and deeper each time. You don’t want to look at the beautiful man, but it’s as if he compels you to. His crimson eyes - so captivating and inhumane. You were told that you were under no spell, but that had to be a lie - demons always lie.
“I never tell no lies, my beautiful human.” Jungkook comes closer to you, licking his lips. “What you feel right now is not due to any spell, but your own body submitting to me.”
Your soft moans only fuel Jungkook on further. His tongue licks along the skin of your collarbone. Your thighs tremble with pleasure when you feel his teeth once more - he’s biting you. It doesn’t hurt, you note, not like it did when he bit you at the cemetery. 
You’re breathing quicken and your eyes snaps shut; you were going to cum. You cannot remember when you ever felt this much pleasure in such a short amount of time until now, and all you can truly think about was succumbing deeper and deeper into the pleasure.
“I know you feel it coming.” Jungkook’s breath tickles your neck as he speaks. “Say my name, beautiful human. Who is the demon who’s going to make you cum?”
“J-Jungkook…!” you shout, feeling the wave of pleasure shoot out of you. It engulfs your entire body, shuddering up the back of your spine and causing goosebumps to litter your skin.
It was when you opened your eyes did you think you were going crazy - completely insane. Jungkook was gone, seemingly never in front of you. Your fingers were inside of you instead of his own, completely soaked in your slick.
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“How did you find me? I know your…mothers. They wouldn’t give up that information.”
It took a week to track down your biological father - a week of torment each night with Jungkook. You cried after you realized that you masturbated, not because you thought it was wrong - you’ve done so before. But because you weren’t sure what was real and what was fake anymore. No prayer stopped Jungkook from returning to you each night - and you never told him yourself to stop; your body submitting to him each time like he’s stated.
You visited your mother on the third day and even she saw the bags beneath your eyes. She questions your appearance, but all you could think about was the very man before you - it took hours to convince her, but she eventually caved. 
“Well…” your father murmurs, sighing after a moment of silence. “...what do you want? Money?”
Your eyes roam over the large estate he lived in. Money would’ve been nice if there wasn’t a literal demon fucking you every night - but even you wouldn’t think to ask him for money. He was nothing but a donor for your mother’s to have a child, never truly intending to be in your life. 
“What deal did you make with the demon?” you ask bluntly.
Your father’s eyes widen slightly at your choice of words. He turns to close the doors to the office you sat in before turning back to you. 
“What…are you talking about?” he coughs, turning back to you. 
“What deal did you make with the demon that’s tormenting me?” you don’t mean for your tone to come out harsh, but it does. You were upset - rightfully so. “What are you? A musician? You promised that son of a bitch your first born child for a record deal-”
“I’m not a musician.” he raises his hands in an attempt to calm you. “H-How did you find me-”
“Are you not listening?!” you take a deep breath, again, not wanting to appear too angered. “There’s a demon tormenting me every night. He said that my…father,” you didn’t want to call him that. He had no intentions of ever being in your life, he was nothing but a donor. But it didn’t matter to Jungkook. “made a deal with him. What the fuck was the deal you made with the demon? Why am I the one being tormented when I know you have other children-”
“You are my first born daughter.” the man caves. His voice comes out in a whisper and barely audible. “I have a son older than you before I made the deal.” his voice is cracking - was he guilty? After all these years did he feel bad for whatever he’s done? “I…I needed money to support my family. The demon said if I had a daughter that I…” the man blinks away from you. “...my wife fell pregnant with another son after we made the deal. That demon was upset. I’ll never forget those eyes. He threatened to kill my wife and kids if I didn’t give him a daughter. That was the plan. I never knew demons were specific with gender.”
Your blood runs cold as his words ring in your mind.
“I…what’s your name?”
You’re taken aback by his sudden interest. “Y/N.” you murmur.
“I thought the demon…I don’t know what I thought.” he sighs. “I kept tabs on you for years now and you remained alive. The demon didn’t take you when you were born like I initially thought he would. Each year passed and I began to think that maybe…he forgot? He didn’t want you anymore.”
You want to laugh. To think your life was given away before you were ever conceived. Your eyes roam the large office space and linger on a picture - a family one. The man before you with a woman, his wife, and two boys - his sons. They appeared happy as a small family of four. 
You sniffle, unsure truly if you could be upset with him. He was only doing what he thought was right at the time, trying to provide for his family. You ponder what would happen if he did have a daughter instead of a second son - would Jungkook have been tormenting her instead of you? 
You shake your head. 
“I have to go.” you exhale. “I-”
“I am…so sorry.”
You glance at the man’s way and nod your head. 
“So am I.” you murmur to him, your legs already walking towards the door of his office.
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Your body is sweating, beads of sweat pooling down your skin. Your shirt sticks to you thickly and you’re sure that this is how you were going to die - or pass out. Whichever came first.
Your eyes snap and you lean your head back, cupping your forehead. You sat at your desk, your work forgotten about.
It’s been two months now since you've been tormented by Jungkook - though he had been missing for the last week. You were grateful - in a way - that he has not returned. Your body needed the rest.
Your throat closes up and your eyes snap open. You never ran as fast as you did now, pushing past your co-workers to make your way into the restroom. You slam the stall door open and hurl right into the toilet. You felt physically ill, vomiting for the next ten minutes.
You were sent home once a co-worker found you like that, crying and vomiting - you weren’t even sure you had enough in your stomach to continue, but your body kept on.
It was the following day - you were given a few days off to recover - when you noticed that something was terribly wrong with you. You visited your mother that night for dinner - she claimed that you looked both hungry and ill. She was just going to start dinner - steak - and that you needed to relax while she finished up.
You thought the smell of raw meat would disgust you, but it didn't. While your mother washed dishes in the sink, humming to herself, you opened the fridge to find yourself something to drink. You were parched and now growing hotter by the second. You smelt it first - the raw steak your mother had placed in the fridge for another day. She hadn’t seasoned it yet like she usually did and it caught your eyes almost instantly. Your eyes glanced before the fridge door to your mother, scrubbing along the dishes.
You grasp the bowl the steak was placed in and sniff it, your stomach rumbling. Before you can process what you’re doing, you sink your teeth into the raw meat, the blood oozing from the corner of your lips. It tasted delicious - finally something you could smell or taste without vomiting it up moments after.
Your mind suddenly clicks on what in the world you’re doing. You slam the fridge door shut and hurl the bitten steak in the trash. You feel ill - not because you just ate raw meat, but because you liked it.
“You ate raw meat?” your doctor asks, chuckling awkwardly. “That cannot be good.”
“That’s why I’m here.” you murmur, playing with your fingers to not look your doctor in the eye. “There must be something wrong with me. I-I sweat constantly. I always feel sick. I can’t sleep most nights-”
“That’s what we were looking into.” your doctor nods, offering you a kind smile. “We ran some tests and a part of the problem can be answered. You’re pregnant.”
Pregnant.
Pregnant?
You shake your head slowly, eyes now widening at the doctor. “I can’t be…” you trail off. 
The only person - were demons even people? Your mind races at the word pregnant. You were only sexually active with Jungkook - an act you weren’t sure if you had complete control over. 
Demons had to be infertile - you were a human woman. There was no way you could be pregnant by a demon.
“We took multiple tests, Y/N. Would you like for me to perform a sonogram?”
You’re starting to feel ill again. 
“Y-Yea.” you whisper. 
The gel placed upon your stomach is cold. You don’t want to look upon the screen, but you’re drawn to it. 
Your doctor hums. “That’s weird.” he murmurs. “The baby appears large.”
You’re unsure how to read the screen, but you try your hardest. 
“But you’re rather small. You are still in the beginning stages of your pregnancy.” your doctor continues.
You pull your eyes away from the screen.
You shake your head. 
“I can’t have this baby.”
Your doctor glances at you, but he doesn’t say anything but nod. 
“Is there a way I can set up an appointment?” you continue. “I-I can’t keep this baby.”
Your doctor nods again. “We can set one up as soon as we have available. Let me speak-”
Your doctor coughs, and then begins to clench his chest. You lean forward as he begins to cough blood. He proceeds to fall to the ground, sonogram equipment crashing alongside him. 
You swing your legs around to get up from the hospital bed. You swing the door open and scream out. “I-I think he’s having a heart attack in here!”
The room swarms with nurses, all pushing you aside. You couldn’t take your eyes off of your doctor as he’s being ushered out. Even as you make your way back home, did you feel as though you were at fault.
You swing the door to your home open and walk in. You close it behind you and wake your way towards your bedroom.
“Y/N.”
You come face to face with Jungkook.
“Welcome home, my beautiful human.” Jungkook offers you a smile, small dimples on display. “I’ll allow this realm to be your home for now.”
You shake your head. 
Jungkook takes a few steps closer to you. “You’re glowing.” he hums.
“You did this to me.” you hiss his way. “You put this…thing in me-”
“Thing?” Jungkook cackles, red eyes glaring at you. “You mean our child?”
“This isn’t a child.”
“But it is, my beautiful human. Made with our flesh and blood. A product of our love.” Jungkook is in front of you in a matter of seconds. He turns you around so you are facing the floor-length mirror in your room. He places a hand upon your stomach. “Such a powerful being to rival the strongest and most powerful demons of the underworld. I can feel it.”
You feel your throat tighten.
“You cannot feel such power yet. But as he grows throughout the months, so will his powers. They’ll be similar to my own.”
He?
“Yes. He. It’s a boy - I can feel him. He can also feel your disappointment, my beautiful human. You don’t want our child to feel hatred while he’s not yet been born.”
You shake your head. You didn’t want a child - not with a demon. You had your life planned the best you could. Find a man that you loved, get married - have children when the time was right. 
This time was not right.
“It is right.” Jungkook lifts your shirt to reveal your stomach. You feel disgusted that it begins to move. You’ve never seen anything like it. Women in early pregnancy didn’t look like you now. It was as if the child inside of you was attempting to claw its way out.
“Our childs power has shown itself today. He had his first kill.” Jungkook appears proud, crimson eyes shining. “It was self-defense. You tried to get rid of him, Y/N. He knows you did.”
Your heart sinks. Your doctor having a form of a heart attack, bleeding out in front of you. That was you - the child you were pregnant with. 
You blink rapidly to not cry, even if you desperately wanted to.
“Everything would be fine if you would stop fighting your destiny. You were destined to be mine - to submit to me. You are now having our child.”
Jungkook removes his hands from your stomach and lifts it in the air. From his reflection, you witness a small box appear in his hand.
“How do you feel, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, opening the box. “Do you feel nauseous? Headache? Hot?”
You shake your head, watching Jungkook remove a ring from the box. “I know,” he says. “you haven’t felt that way since you walked inside the room. It’s because our child feels welcomed with me around him. He isn’t on alert. He feels safe.”
Jungkook turns you around, holding up the ring. It’s large, a dark stone at the center surrounded by smaller diamonds. He grabs your hand in his own, sliding the ring onto your finger. “You humans enjoy jewelry as an act of commitment.” he states. “Now here it is. Consider us…married.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. 
Jungkook offers a smile, unbeknownst to you, a cunning one. Humans were always easy to manipulate.
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Your chest is ready to explode into small pieces. Your chest is tingling, you unwillingly inhale hoping that your lungs would be filled with air - the perfect amount of oxygen needed. Instead, it fills with water. Your head begins to feel numb and light, almost as if it’s going to crack open.
You feel dizzy, as if it dawned onto you just now that you were going to die here. Your arms flapped around for anything, but the weight of the water just brings you down deeper and deeper.
You managed to open your eyes, but the water isn’t clear. It’s hard to make out your surroundings and you cannot fathom what you’ve done to get here. 
You clenched your eyes shut in hopes the ringing in your head would go away, but it didn’t. Instead, it got louder and louder.
There’s no air left in your lungs, nothing keeping you alive. 
Your flaring hands cup your stomach - the bump that grew larger throughout the months. Your baby. Your heart sinks at the thought that not only you would be dying right now, but so would your son - even if a part of him was Jungkook, a demon, he was still a part of you.
Your chest burned while the rest of your body ached. You could no longer fight your kicking legs. You feel yourself sink deeper and deeper into the abyss, your surroundings only growing darker and darker.
Your mind, what little left you had of it, screamed for Jungkook to save you - that he was truly your only hope left. Not just for you, but for the child you both shared.
Your screams echo and bounce off of your ears. Your body begins to frail once more, feeling yourself being restrained. Your eyes finally focus and you realize that you are not deep in the abyss anymore.
Cries are heard throughout the room and finally, you stop fighting against the hands restraining you.
“I-Is that…”
You aren’t in a room. You aren’t sure where in the world you are. The walls are stone and high. There’s candles that are lined around your cot and on the walls. Surrounding you are several men, all unfamiliar except one. Jungkook. He’s holding something in his arms, wrapped in a clothed blanket. 
“Our son.” Jungkook rocks the wailing baby until he’s quiet. 
“Can I…hold him?”
The six men surrounding you all watch as Jungkook places the baby into your arms. Your eyes are fixed on him. He doesn’t appear to be that of a newborn - yet, he was half demon, so you wouldn’t hold anything against him. He’s still so small in your arms and against your chest and warm to the touch. There’s a mop of dark hard atop of his head.
Your son's eyes are open - and they are the same as Jungkook’s. Crimson, shining right up at you.
Your finger touches his skin, feeling your heart feel warm at just the sight of him.
Jungkook hums, feeling himself smile. He had you now - fully. Now more than ever would have if it was not for the child he’d given you; you had called for him while in the abyss to save the both of you. Even if there was never any direct harm to you physically, mentally you were calling for him. Him to protect you and his son.
“It’s time.” one of the men said. Jungkook takes the baby back into his arms, shushing when the small infant begins to sob at your lack of contact.
“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had. 
The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.
“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.
“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”
The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.
“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now? 
“The pain will not last long, my beautiful wife…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in the Underworld. We will be waiting for you.”
The chants only get louder and the room hotter. When you managed to take your eyes away from Jungkook, you looked towards the shaking ground. It erupts, pits of flames crashing through the ground. You scream, unsure of what was going on.
Jungkook’s words ring in your mind - you would be reunited with them in the Underworld.
Your blood runs cold, feeling your arms being pulled upon from an unknown force deep within the pits. 
Your eyes lock with Jungkook for a last time, crimson eyes staring right into your own. You’re unsure how to read him - he was a demon and could demons ever truly be trusted? They were cunning and selfish; only truly anything for personal gain.
‘I’ll be right down there when you arrive, Y/N. We both will.’ 
You’re shocked for a moment, hearing Jungkook’s voice directly into your thoughts. Now your body is being dragged down into the Earth, swallowing you fully and yet, all you could hear are Jungkook’s words in your head.
‘You have my word, my beautiful wife.’
PART 2 | Divine Intervention (Taehyung Version)
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rosesnbooks · 1 year
Text
Astrology observations #2
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-people who lack an element in their chart really do surround themselves with a lot of people in said element. for example, my friend lacks earth and has at least 4 friends who are earth sun signs
-some capricorns really can't get along with leos, but they are attracted to sag and aries placements. they can't help it
-mars in the 1st house get sexualised a lot, to the point it gets too much for some people..especially women. these people are also very ambitious. even when going through tough times, they never lose sight from their goals
-mercury in aquarius have a unique humor. the same goes for mercury in the 11th.
-virgo mercury pay attention to details, esp when they like you..the things they remember and gifts they give you, shows how thoughtful they are
- fire signs/houses..please tell me that you've been told at least once that you talk too loud. i have aries mercury and my friend mercury in the 9th and we both had a revelation that we talk too loud lmao
-well-developed capricorns are such sweethearts. they are reasonable and grounded, but they are also so funny and charming. they may appear as if they have everything under control at all times, but they're just like the rest of us
-water signs have the craziest dreams i swear😭some can sound like scenes from a movie, fantasy and/or horror
-moon in the 5th house/leo think about themselves a lot and take things personally. they think everything is about them. on the other hand, they have the biggest hearts and they want to make everyone they love happy. can you blame them tho for wanting to feel like a main character
-when you want to ease your mind, talk to someone who has a sagittarius mercury and they will cheer you up
-having an empty 7th house might mean that you don't have much, if any, relationship experience. you probably give good relationship advice though
-aquarius/11th house placements have their own strong moral code. they can usually hide their feelings well, but if they realise someone is being intolerant towards others and mean, they'll get really emotional. they want the world to be a better place, and get frustrated when they see how many people don't care
-capricorn placements may have really complex relationship with their parents. they often expect too much from their kids, and since they prove that they can endure almost everything, the parents don't loosen their grip. they need to know their worth and forget about the expectations!
-mercury retrograde can really cause communication issues for people. it is difficult for these people to express how they feel and stand up to others. but, it does get better with time!
-aries and taurus placements combo in a man can be very dark imo, they are often players. they also have huge ego problems. i dislike emphasizing only the darker parts of people, so i have to admit that these placements, if well-developed, can be very loyal and passionate especially with people they love. they are also incredibly hard-working and focused, it's really admirable.
-be careful when dealing with men that have virgo and libra placements in their chart. some may be romantic and attentive, while others can nitpick your every flaw and can have ridiculously high standards. they can cheat and lie easily as well
-sagittarius venus love adventure, having a partner who doesn't know how to have fun and explore things is a big turn off to them. they can make compromises for their more serious partners, but if they can't reciprocate the same effort, it's not going to work
-cancer risings seem very approachable and kind. their eyes are usually big and curious, almost childlike
-this has been said many times, but venus in the 1st individuals truly are beautiful. there is also something different and captivating in their beauty, they stand out wherever they go
-saturn in the 3rd house/gemini may indicate that a person faced speech/writing difficulties when they were young, or they continue to struggle with it
-pisces moons tend to forget things and their memory can betray them at times. as a pisces moon, i think that's because we are in our heads too much and we remember how we felt about things, not the words and actions. we also struggle with being present 100% of the time, so we perhaps didn't listen to you in the first place (i'm sorry)
take this with a grain of salt, since i only read about astrology in my free time!💜
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drchucktingle · 1 year
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It’s Carly Tingle’s big day, the release of her first traditionally published horror novel, Camp Damascus. Unfortunately, Carly’s having trouble enjoying this moment as fear and chaos begin to swirl around her. She wants the book to do well, of course, but it slowly becomes apparent there’s more to Carly’s ambition than meets the eye.
Things get clearer when Carly revisits an old erotica short she’d written, titled Eaten Right By The Physical Manifestation Of My Pride And Excitement That The Lead Character Of My First Traditionally Published Horror Novel Is On The Autism Spectrum Just Like Me. This sets off a chain of fourth-wall breaking events that will send Carly on an adventure unlike any other.
Now at the book shop, Carly will come face-to-face with the beautiful physical manifestation of her pride and excitement as an autistic artist, culminating in an erotic lesbian encounter that could inspire generations to come.
This erotic tale is 4,300 words of sizzling human on sentient physically manifested excitement in the form of a punctuation mark action and lesbian autistic pride love.
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please enjoy EATEN RIGHT BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF MY PRIDE AND EXCITEMENT THAT THE LEAD CHARACTER OF MY FIRST TRADITIONALLY PUBLISHED HORROR NOVEL IS ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM JUST LIKE ME out now for free but asking for donation to AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK
MORE ABOUT THIS TINGLER:
hey there buckaroos i would like to use today to talk on something that is very important to me. i have talked a lot about my journey as a bud on the autism spectrum, and about how I LOVE BEING AUTISTIC.
my story on the spectrum is not a struggle. my way was diagnosed in early twenties, but because of way of masking VERY FEW BUCKAROOS WOULD EVEN NOTICE. it has given me ability to hyper focus and get large amounts of writing done, to find creative ideas neurotypical buds might miss, and to have a unique perspective on life on this timeline.
HOWEVER as man name of chuck my pride in this way used to make me uncomfortable, thinkin i should not share my story. there are many buds on this spectrum who have a MUCH harder time than chuck, and i want to respect the VERY IMPORTANT AND VERY REAL struggles of my fellow autistic buckaroos. for long time i did not feel like it was my place to share and say ‘personally, i wouldnt change my autistic trot for anything. i think being autistic is very cool’
but as tingleverse got more fans and buckaroos started listening to my words more i started thinking: THIS is an opportunity to prove love. part of the reason i am PROUD of my spectrum way is because FIRST INTERACTION with idea of this trot (was called aspergers way back then) was to realize that ALL MY HEROS were on this spectrum: david byrne of band TALKING HEADS being number one.
my FIRST INTERACTION with this idea was not ‘whoa this is tragic’ it was ‘whoa the coolest buckaroo on the PLANET is the same as me’
POINT IS i have been on this timeline a while now and now i am in this position myself. i can be the one buckaroos see when they learn this about themselves and think: WOW LOOK AT THIS WILD ARTIST I ADMIRE BREAKING THE NORMS AND CHARTING A NEW TROT THROUGH THIS TIMELINE WE ARE BOTH AUTISTIC THIS IS THE HECKIN COOLEST
most of the characters i write are probably a little on the spectrum because they are comin from inside chucks head. i look back and notice this and laugh, but other than a single tingler i rare actually OUTRIGHT SAY this character is autistic. i decided that FIRST BIG HORROR NOVEL WITH A TRADITIONAL PUBLISHER was a good time to change this. while i write erotica most of the time which means NO YOUNG BUCKAROOS ALLOWED, horror is a little different. buckaroos young and old can read CAMP DAMASCUS and think ‘i see myself in this autistic hero and I FEEL COOL’
EVEN WRITING THIS NOW makes me get teary eyed and emotional, because these feelings of belonging and positive representation were SO IMPORTANT to me. i would not be trotting here without these autistic heroes, and now i have been given the chance to create one of my own with CAMP DAMASCUS and WITH MYSELF just by being chuck and talking openly about my joyful, exciting, artistic trot on the spectrum.
WITH ALL OF THIS IN MIND i am releasing a brand new tingler called EATEN RIGHT BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF MY PRIDE AND EXCITEMENT THAT THE LEAD CHARACTER OF MY FIRST TRADITIONALLY PUBLISHED HORROR NOVEL IS ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM JUST LIKE ME for free. HOWEVER i am requesting that if you choose to read you send your three dollars (or whatever donation you would like) to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK. this way 100 percent of all profits will go to them. (WARNING this is actual erotica so no young buckaroos allowed for this one).
all ages (who are old enough to read horror) can preorder CAMP DAMASCUS at any bookstore. i also have a tingler name of NOT POUNDED BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF SOMEONE ELSE'S DOUBT IN MY PLACE ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM BECAUSE DENYING SOMEONE'S PERSONAL JOURNEY AND IDENTITY LIKE THAT IS INCREDIBLY RUDE SO NO THANKS that is pound free so all ages can read so check that out if you would like.
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thank you for blessing me with a space to explore these ideas. i am so thankful to be here with you and you have treated me so well. i am eternally grateful for our tort together and look forward to the future we craft on this timeline.
LOVE IS REAL - chuck
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leog4u · 1 month
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Game Design and Porn Pt. 1
or, How To Fuck Up The Best Intrinsic Reward Ever
Hi, I'm Leo G, veteran pervert. One time while chatting in a server exclusively made of porn artists, I brought up the game design of a porn game I enjoyed. One of them laughed, saying "Who cares, it's just a porn game?" Being unwell, I never let this go. Since then, I have played many adult games and took each one as serious products made by professionals. Fast forward to today, and the demo for my porn game, Joker's Trip, is nearing completion. I also have some sci-fi erotica you should check out.
So you wanna make a porn game. You heard they make money, and hey what’s more fun than making a video game AND porn? But you don’t know where to begin! Well don’t worry, Leo’s got you covered. We’re gonna walk through the line of thinking you should have when designing your porn game. There's gonna be at least three parts to this, with part 1 focusing on how to reward your player.
Define "porn game" for me, Leo.
There are porn games, and then games with porn in them. A porn game is a game where you won’t last 5 minutes, where everything exists solely to meet and, subsequently, fuck. A game with porn in it is a game where everything exists for the purpose of the game, and also, you fuck. Fate Stay Night, for example, is a VN with a story that just so happens to have some CGs where the protagonist rails Saber, but is mainly about Shirou and the Holy Grail War. Much like how I would call Castlevania a game with horror in it, but not a horror game.
Porn games are a lot like horror games. They both get a bad rap for being cheap to make, appealing to base instincts, and generally being low quality. They're also both not actual genres of games, but genres of content. Think about it, if I asked you what a horror game is, you'd say a game that's scary. But what's the actual game part? The unfortunate answer would most likely be "walking sim," but there are a lot of examples that are FPSes, puzzles, driving sims, platformers, deck builders, the list goes on.
The most common genres of game I see for porn games these days are by far RPG Maker RPGs and VNs. I won’t be talking about VNs because they’re closer to writing than game design, which isn’t a flaw but a feature. What used to be everywhere, in days of old, were breakout games, where the more bricks and levels were cleared, the more of the sexy image would be revealed in the background. Other arcadey type deals like shoot ‘em ups and mahjong were also around, and had a similar “strip ‘em down until you have sex” gameplay loop.
Okay, so what’s an intrinsic reward?
There’s intrinsic rewards, and there're extrinsic rewards. Extrinsic rewards, generally, are the number go up rewards. Things that make your character stronger, or give you more resources to buy new gear or whatever. Intrinsic rewards in games can cover a large swathe of things. It can be the feeling of satisfaction of completing a puzzle, a piece of lore or world building, or a new dialogue option with a character you want to fuck.
I like fucking characters, are we talking about porn now?
Yes! I’m of the opinion that you literally can’t make a better intrinsic reward than pornography. On top of setting the tone for the entirety of the game., at its best it can add to a story, add to someone’s character development, or be a beautiful piece of art to look at. AND you can jack off to it! Unfortunately, that’s at its best. Let’s talk about how porn is delivered in a theoretical RPG porn game. (As a head’s up, there will be talk of “bad end” scenes, but this is under the assumption that the player is the one consenting.)
So you’re playing an RPG and get into a fight. Maybe you were underleveled or too cumbrained to remember to buy healing potions. Then your HP goes to zero, and instead of going back to the title screen, you’re getting fucked by orcs. That’s right, let’s talk about Game Over CGs.
You get to watch porn when you lose?
To someone making a porn game with a battle system, this delivery method makes sense. The characters in this world are driven primarily by lust, this is just the obvious conclusion. And it doesn’t even have to be non-consensual! Games like Future Fragments show that it can be presented as a sexy inconvenience rather than anything uncomfortable for the player or our hero. Game Over CGs even have the benefit of softening the blow of defeat, by giving the player a chance to reflect on their defeat and jerk off. Even better if losing a fight isn’t lost progress, but rather a bump in the road. However, there’s a problem here. The player is a dog, and we’re rewarding bad behavior.
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The porn is an intrinsic reward, so why are we giving it to the player for losing? Incentivizing losing on purpose isn’t just bad game design, but a waste of time. And to that end, a lot of porn games try to give solutions to this. One being a kill button on the keyboard or a skill that instantly KOs our hero to get to the lose screen faster. What might seem like a convenience is really just expediting failure.
What it says is that the gameplay doesn’t actually matter. You’re just here for the porn, right? In that case there’s plenty of places I can go to see a chick with huge knockers get railed by an orc, with the added bonus of not having to play forgettable and mid turn based combat!
Another solution I’ve seen is the game outright telling you, “hey don’t bother killing yourself to see the porn. Once you beat the game all of the scenes you missed will be unlocked!” At first this seems like a reasonable way to go about it, but it comes with another problem: your game better be fucking good to make me play through the entire thing before getting to see cock. Like I said earlier, porn at its best can reveal things about the world and drive character development. I uh. Just beat the game. I don’t care anymore. Showing me a scene that’s taken out of context by a factor of 5 hours or more isn’t what I’d call great game design or story telling. It’s also too little, too late.
What if we made the porn actual rewards?
Now we’re getting somewhere! Let’s make the reward…a reward! What if, every time the player beats a level, we get some porn? If we tie the CG to beating the boss, we’ll be tying the reward to game progression. That’s good right? So now, on top of the extrinsic rewards you’d normally get for beating a boss (a lot of EXP, better gear, opened areas) we also get that sweet dopamine rush of pornography! So we’re good, right?
There’s 1142 words left in this post, so I’m assuming no.
Well. It’s a start. It has the problem of predictability. If not handled properly, it comes off as lazy. As a game designer, one of your goals is to not constantly remind your player that they’re playing a video game. Get through the level, get porn. It feels a little too “mouse in a maze looking for cheese” for my taste. And much like the game over method, if the actual game itself is mid, the player will start to question if the reward is worth it, and might be afflicted with the worst condition a player could receive: boredom.
Of course there are exceptions. In puzzle or arcade type games where you don’t get extrinsic rewards, giving the player porn as another form of reward per level or whatever is perfectly reasonable (though it does have the issue of being predictable.) This is a perfectly good way of doing it if your game is short, or if the game is, y’know, good and fun to play. Bad Color’s game, Heroine Conquest, is a level based puzzle game with porn as the reward, but only when you do good. Combining the actual challenge of mastering the game, with a genuinely unique game loop makes for a feeling of accomplishment when beating a level. Pair that up with a sex cutscene, and the dopamine rush will hit.
So! Let’s combine giving the player a power trip, with a less rigid structure for giving the player porn. Instead of tying the porn to purely progression gates, let’s tie it to the progression.
Plot milestones
In Third Crisis, sex scenes are peppered throughout the regular game’s plot, starting with some lesbian bondage before introducing the protagonist, who goes through a tutorial before having their own horny encounters. It’s not just given when you win or lose, but is a natural part of the game. Beating bosses, losing to enemies, and exploring dialogue options in sidequests all lead to unlocking new CGs.
Now what’s nice about that, is that the sex isn’t placed somewhere extremely predictable. It isn’t just a reward for beating The Boss Of Forest Zone, Now Go To Ice Zone And Beat The Ice Boss For More Cock. Because that’s the biggest issue of predictable rewards, you know you’re not getting anything until that checkpoint, which will make the player weigh whether or not it’s even worth continuing. This is fine, again, for an arcade type game, not an RPG or adventure game. By sprinkling sex throughout the plot itself, the player will not only want to progress, but their curiosity will have them wondering “what else is out there?”
Rewarding exploration
By putting sex scenes behind optional side quests or encounters, the dog that is the player will scour every single corner of the map, and leave no pixel unturned. Personally, that’s more exciting to me than what you’ll get in the main progression route. In Future Fragments the player can find their rival Faye in sexual situations if they explore the map enough. These are completely optional, and don’t give any direct rewards like more HP or an item, but they’re by far what motivates me to explore the maps as thoroughly as possible, more so than the plot macguffins the game is named after!
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So now the player is excited. Sex can happen anywhere. Maybe that daunting off road path with stronger monsters isn’t just hiding a secret, but a sexy secret! They’ll be more likely to venture down those optional paths you painstakingly made.
If we’re using sex in game overs, boss fights, and just randos, why not put it everywhere?
So now I want to talk about the concept of a “sex stat”. It’s not a bad idea! Say, the higher the player’s sex stat is, the more opportunities you unlock for fucking. It could even be tied to the player character’s personality, and affect the story! Instead of using a sword and shield, they’ll end any conflict with sass and sex. They open their eyes to the horny world around them and stop being a hero, and instead become a succubus, and the ending is a massive cum filled orgy.
That sounds excessive
Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.
I’m not a fan of “corruption” systems in porn games. Corruption as a kink is totally fine, and having it be a part of the story lets you incorporate more sexuality into the plot. But as I alluded to, it snowballs pretty fast (and I’m not talking about spitting in someone’s mouth). It ends up being like a cheat code, where you’re bypassing parts of the game for no cost. It stops being a reward, it stops being unexpected, and it stops it from being sexy.
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Wait, what? Stops being sexy? What’s not sexy about a succubus orgy?
Alright, listen, we gotta rein it in for a minute. This isn’t so much about game design as it is about writing erotica, but if you have a world where everyone’s fucking and sucking 24/7, there’s no contrast to make what would normally be a hot taboo a hot taboo. If everybody’s naked, nobody’s naked. The aforementioned snowball effect of a corruption system can be seen if you play literally any game that has one. It won’t take long to not have to engage with any combat or adventuring system if you can just press the “Submit to the big dick warlock” button and watch porn to progress.
Which, now that I said that, is exactly the problem. Imagine any other rpg you’ve ever played. Now imagine if every encounter and dialogue option had an option to just watch a short cutscene to skip the encounter. That would suck ass, right? Literally no difference here.
It would. Hey, I’m sort of lost now.
Don’t worry, we’re wrapping this up.
So what did we learn? We learned game over CGs have a critical design flaw that shouldn’t be relied on. We learned that predictable rewards can lead to boredom. We learned to keep sex as a reward and not devalue it.
To summarize, here’s a neat trick to know where to put your porn scenes.
”Would I put an Xbox Live achievement here?”
It’s that easy. “Lose to Goblins for the first time,” that’s an achievement. “Beat orc commander,” that’s an achievement. “Find Hubert the Magical Dickhead,” that’s an achievement. Using that as a guideline is foolproof. Almost.
This sounds like it’d take a lot of resources
It sure does! But don’t worry. I’ll cover that in the next post talking all about how to deal with the resource management of a porn game.
(Shoutout to Taylor, my guy for editing!)
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loveshotzz · 9 months
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All I Really Want Is You
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older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap seven/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday
Bad Idea
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summary: After a week of avoiding, you find Steve at your front steps.
wc: 4.3k
warnings: 18+ series for future chapters. Steve and Reader have THE talk, we learn Steve & Emma’s story. There will be discussions of feelings about watching a loved one struggle with terminal illness and death in this chapter. There’s not a ton of details about her struggles but it is touched on. Angsty beginning and a very, very fluffy end 🧡
author’s note: it’s all up hill from here guys, just a little growing pains. i can’t believe there’s only three chapters left after this 🥺 thank you for reading and all of the sweet reblogs and messages through out this whole series. you have made this so special for me and it’s been such a comfort to write as I navigate my own life changes right now.
🌇 <- chapter six -> chapter eight
The Masterlist / The Playlist / The tune:
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End of June -
It had been a week since Steve came back from his camping trip. A week of good morning texts left unanswered, of making sure not to look out your window when you knew he was home - even when you could hear him play with Bandit. He was doing that outside more than usual, a tactic to try and get you to come out and talk to him or hell, even just look at him. 
He doesn’t know that a few times it almost worked. 
Always & Forever
The words engraved into silver also stay carved deep and fresh in your mind, not letting you forget. You couldn’t, even if you tried. Especially not her beautiful eyes. Does she hate you? Part of you feels like you would hate you. The guilt threatens to punch the air out of your lungs.
The days go on like this with you doing everything in your power to avoid him while he did everything he could to run into you. The last ditch effort was after you caught him getting out of his car, your eyes meeting for a split second before you cut through the alley walking in through the back gate instead. Your resolve to stay away grows weaker when Steve’s good morning texts finally stop after that. 
So when Brad, the new server, gets the courage to ask you out, you say yes. It was a bad idea, anyone could’ve told you that, you didn’t really want him. He was just a distraction from facing the consequences of your own actions.  
He takes you to RPM Steakhouse in the heart of downtown and surprisingly he actually makes you laugh. He’s full of food industry horror stories he’s collected over the years. He’s not boring and he’s attentive when you talk, asking questions like he’s really interested. The butterflies that have built a home in your rib cage don’t flutter and fly for him though. The nerves that make your heart beat faster, the ones that feel like they vibrate from your fingertips, like your skin is on fire, are stagnant. 
He’s not Steve. 
You skip out on dessert when it’s offered to you, but you let him hug you before you get in your separate Uber’s home. It worked for a few hours at least. Looking out the window when your car hits the expressway, the skyline shines gleaming like the stars in the clear night sky.
It’s not very long until your phone fights for your attention, the screen illuminating the backseat. It pulls you back to reality, your breath catching when it’s not Brad’s name that flashes across your screen.
Steve
Can we please just talk? 
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You aren’t expecting to see him at your front steps when the Uber drops you off at your gate. His hair sticks out wild at the ends, like he’s been pulling it all night, scratch that, all week and it makes more guilt settle deep in your gut. The scruff on his jaw is almost dark enough to be a beard now. His legs are covered in gray sweats and the white undershirt he wears fits tight over his shoulders. You hate how handsome he still is, even with his slides and socks.
He’s talking to himself, moving his hands like he’s trying to explain something, reciting a speech you can’t quite hear from as far as you are. The leftovers shift in your bag when you take your first step making the styrofoam squeak and plastic crinkle, his eyes shoot up instantly at the noise.
“Honey?”
Those wings start to stretch and flutter even after just one word. You wish you could be mad at how much power one word from him has, but all you feel is the weight of how much you missed him when his face softens.
“Hi Steve.” You catch the way his lips twitch at the sound of his name coming from your mouth when you open the gate. It had been too long for him, he’d become addicted to it without even knowing it.
He stands up, his eyes can’t help but roam your bare legs that sit exposed in your black cocktail dress, or the way the middle sinches into your waist, before fluttering out over the tops of your thighs. His own jealousy threatens to bubble over at the thought of you wearing this for someone else. He needs you to understand him.
“Is this a bad time?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck while he reads the restaurant name on your bag. He hopes whoever took you there isn’t coming back. “If it is sweetheart, I can give you more space. I just, I just wanted to see you.”
You stop in front of him, further away than normal but close enough to smell the cigar smoke that still clings to the cotton of his shirt. It mixes with the spice of his cologne from earlier this morning. His eyes find yours without hesitation, glazed over from the glass of whiskey you’re sure he nursed before finding himself on your front steps. They shimmer under the moon like emeralds and you just want to get lost in them.
The answer you want to give and the answer that you think will protect you are at each other’s throats, constricting yours from giving him anything right away. His face crumbles a little when his question is met with silence. You don’t want him to go.
“No, it’s not a bad time.” It comes out before you can fight it.
The smile that tugs at Steve’s lips warms your face like the summer sun, his hand reaching out for you before pulling back and finding a new home deep in his pocket instead. Baby steps. Your arm brushes against his when you walk past him, the smallest touch lighting the match.
“I just need to get out of this dress.” You can’t look at him when you pull at the fabric as if to show him how uncomfortable it is.
“Should I wait down here?” He clears his throat a little unsure of himself as he watches you dig through your purse. He didn’t think he’d get this far.
Cicadas buzz loud against the jingle of your keys in the beat of silence it takes you to unlock the front door. The stale air of the walkway hits you like an oven when you push it open, the heat making your skin stick more than it did outside.
“You can come up. I promise my dishes are done this time.” You flash him a smirk from over your shoulder watching the way your gesture makes him relax like you’d intended, secretly enjoying the blush you still can get to flush his cheeks so easily. 
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Steve hadn’t been inside your apartment since the day he fixed your sink, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing him here. He’s handsome in a timeless way, still somehow put together even in his disheveled state. You watch the way he takes in his surroundings like he wants to commit it all to memory not knowing that he actually is, just in case this all blows up in his face and you never let him come back here again. 
The only noise that fills the room is the loud whirr of your A/C and it’s your turn to clear your throat.
“Umm, feel free to take a seat. I’ll be really quick.” You awkwardly gesture towards your green couch, grimacing when your mind goes back to the beautiful leather one at his place. 
He just nods, rubbing his palms against his thighs while taking one last look around before sitting. Your nose scrunches when you see how deep he sinks down, maybe a used couch wasn’t the best idea you’d ever had.
You wait till your door is shut to let out the long breath you feel like you’ve been holding this whole time. The familiar thumping in your chest returns ten fold. He’s in your living room.  
You try not to think too much about the yoga shorts and oversized shirt you change into, especially when your muscles relax, no longer strained by the tight nylon material dress. Allowing a single once over in your long mirror, you force yourself back out, the creak of your door alerting him of your return. His stare makes goosebumps dance across sticky skin in a battle with the air conditioning.
“Do you want some water?” You try to sound casual when you ask, keeping your back to him so he can’t see the way you’re still buying time.
“S- sure,” he stutters out, a cough following and you hear the way the cushions respond to his weight as he tries leaning forward. 
Now it's the whirr of your a/c and the grumbling of the ice machine that silences the unspoken feelings that are begging to come out. Scratching and clawing their way to the surface, the cracks in your facade start getting deeper the longer you stay quiet.
Steve breaks first.
“I think there’s a conversation we should have.” He pauses before starting over, “There’s a conversation I want to have.”
You freeze when the realization of where you left the watering can smacks you right in the face.
“Steve-“ you start, unable to meet his eyes and he’s quick to cut you off.
“Listen, I have some things I need to say and you should at least let me get it off my chest if you’re just going to pretend I don’t exist now.” His words make you realize the selfishness that hides under your insecurities of not being good enough for someone like him. 
He stands up when you turn around, both of you staying on opposite sides of the room. He takes a shaky breath before dragging his fingers through his hair.
“I didn’t think I’d ever feel these things again with anyone else, I was sure of it actually and then you showed up in your horribly packed moving truck.” He laughs a little like he’s still wrapping his head around all of it, and he knows if the situation was any different you’d roll your eyes at him for the teasing jab.
“You brought all of these things out of me that I thought I’d lost for good. Like, I can’t remember the last time I cared about what I was wearing when I left the house, but the past month I’ve been obsessed about it. Like what if she’s outside? What if she’s looking out her window? What if she wants to talk to me?” The veins in his neck show themselves as he gets more worked up but he’s not done yet.
“Then last week when you showed up at my front gate, looking even prettier than the last time I saw you, because you do that somehow, I couldn’t help myself around you anymore. The fact that you were actually going to kiss me back after I put the worst moves on you made me feel like I won the lottery or something.” His gaze meets yours to make sure he isn’t scaring you off before taking a deep breath.
“And then, and then you just - you just left without so much as a reason why. It was pretty clear though when I got home, and maybe that’s my fault because I feel like I’m doing this all backwards but you didn’t give us a chance to even talk about it.”
Steve looks like his world is falling apart, and the things he’s saying make you feel like anything but a second choice. You wish you could go back to that rainy day at his house and do things over again.
“I wasn’t given the shot at a fair fight the first time something special was taken from me, but I have one now and I’m not walking away unless you kick me out.” He straightens his shoulders a little before another anxious hand runs through his wild hair. His chest heaves as he finally gets out what’s been sitting just below the surface the whole time, his fears revealing themselves behind flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. 
The feeling like you’re slighting another woman who isn’t here is hard to navigate. It makes your own eyes sting but you don’t let the tears fall. Not when he’s handing his heart to you like he means it.
“I’d never kick you out,” your words come out quiet - soft, a stark contrast to the way his boomed loud with conviction, but he doesn’t miss them.
Hope starts to sprout deep in his chest for the first time in years.
“Never?” He breathes, relief relaxing the hard lines on his face while he looks at you from under his lashes.
His feet take him those few steps closer and when you make no moves to tell him to stop he keeps going. The sadness that plagues his handsome features slowly starts to fade and the bags under his eyes become more obvious. You want to kiss them.
Your hand extends, fingers reaching out for his. His eyes follow your movements, taking in what you’re offering and he doesn’t hesitate anymore, interlocking them like when he walked you to your front door. You watch the way his shoulders give the moment they touch and his eyes close as he relishes in the feel of it. Of you. 
Your back hits the edge of your kitchen sink when he crowds your space a little more, your fingers playing songs on imaginary strings together. Memorizing he dips between each one. His nose skims across your forehead making your own eyes close. How could you ever stay away from him?
“Never.” 
He hums at your confession, squeezing your hand gently before pulling back. He takes his time admiring your face from this close. He missed you so much, he actually thinks it’s kind of crazy. His other hand reaches up to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone. He loves the way you lean into it. You missed him too.
“Can we have that conversation now?” 
All you can do is nod, tears still threatening to spill out but now a different kind.
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The two of you sit on your couch for hours, worn in cushions pushing you close together. Your head rests on his arm that’s draped along the back of it, your socked feet in his lap. He tells you how he met Emma through his high school sweetheart Nancy. The ex that turned him into a man as he put it, the one that made him really think about the kind of person he wanted to be. Even going as far to say Emma would have never given him the time of day if it wasn’t for her. Nancy was the Managing Editor of The Chicago Tribune and Emma was her Editor in Chief.
After being introduced by Nancy at a sports gala, Steve pursued her hard, especially because she said no the first three times he asked her out. It makes you giggle when he laughs about it. He said he knew he wanted to marry her after the first date and a year later he proposed to her on a group vacation with Eddie, Robin, Nancy and a few other friends in Mexico. The picture you saw was taken right after she said yes.
The wedding was small, just a few of their closest friends at The Chicago Botanical Gardens, and a dinner at Smith & Wollensky next to the river after. He told you how Eddie pretended to be mad the whole night becauseSteve made Robin his best man instead. They both moved into Steve’s apartment near Wrigley Field after a honeymoon in Italy. He said it was some of the best years of his life with her there, young and in love in one of the liveliest neighborhoods in the city. Then a few years passed and both their careers started taking off and they started wanting more as they got older. A family.
That’s when they started to invest in renovating this fixer upper of a house in a less nightlife oriented neighborhood. The house you live next door to. Between busy work schedules and dealing with contractors when the symptoms first started, they didn’t think anything of it. They chalked it up to exhaustion until she fainted in her office a few months later, then they finally saw a doctor. Another month later after multiple tests and hospital visits Emma was diagnosed with ALS.
“I’ve never seen something debilitate someone so fast, and Emma, god Emma was so strong. Seeing her like that at the end, it fucking broke me.” Steve’s voice cracks, a silent stream of tears falling down his cheeks now.
Your heart breaks for them, the tragedy of watching the person you love fall apart with nothing to do to stop it. An entire life you had planned ripped out from under you with zero warning or mercy. A cruel joke.
You reach up, using the back of your knuckles to wipe away his tears.  He leans in your touch, his gaze meeting yours with so many emotions inside of them, you think you might drown.
“We decided to stay in our apartment when she couldn’t walk anymore, with the rate it was moving she didn’t want me to live in this big new house meant for our new beginning and have her…have her die in it,” the last part comes out in just above a whisper, stopping to collect his thoughts. His brows furrow together and his fingers search for yours again. You give them to him without question. 
“We checked her into hospice a month after that, Eddie flew in the day she chose to get off assistance. She was surrounded by the people she loved the most those last days.” He takes another deep breath before he continues, it shakes just like his hands.
“That was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I don’t know how someone is supposed to go through that kind of pain and move on from it. Be a person again after it.” He takes another pause and he pulls you closer. His anchor.
“I don’t know if I’d still be here if it wasn’t for Eddie moving into the house with me those first three months, if I’m being totally honest with you.” He sniffs, his gaze falls to his lap to try and hide the shame at the thought, and you squeeze his hand a little bit harder.
“I’m so sorry Steve.” Your voice cracks at the weight of everything he’s been carrying around. The gravity of the way you left him tightens in your throat.
The tears you’d been holding back break free, making his eyes snap to yours. He lets your hand go to wipe your cheeks with gentle fingers like you did to his just moments before. He knows you're apologizing for more than just his bad luck.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m okay now,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. The tips of your noses touch, tears mixing and dripping down the ends of them. You keep your eyes closed in hopes that if you focus hard enough, maybe you could take away some of his pain. Even if it’s just a little bit. “We’re okay now.”
You don’t know how long the two of you sit like this together, not speaking, letting wandering hands memorize faces and fingertips. Your breathing falls in time while your cheeks start to dry. Puffy red eyes stay closed while your muscles finally relax. His nose rubs small circles against yours that make smiles neither of you can see stretch across tear streaked faces.
When you finally open your eyes, he’s already looking at you, something brighter inside of his now like he just let go of a big secret. He doesn’t have to hide anymore.
It’s you that finally works up the strength to pull away enough to really see his whole face after depriving yourself of it for so long.
“I actually kinda feel like she sent you here, despite me,” he admits, laughing nervously, breaking the silence, “She made me promise her that I’d try and find love again when the time was right, I eventually said yes after she asked me at least a dozen times, but I never actually intended on it.” 
Steve stops for a second to brush some of your mascara that smudged, holding your eyes in the forest of his.
“Then five years later, this tough girl tries moving an entire apartment’s worth of stuff by herself next door. I mean, you practically did.” He smiles at how proud you look of yourself, “I knew I was screwed when Bandit sniffed you out.”
You giggle like you're just as love sick as him and he wishes he could play it on a loop whenever he’s sad. 
“She was probably laughing at how bad I was at trying to flirt with you.” His ears turn cherry red while he tries to hide his very real embarrassment.
“You did run away from me for like a solid week after we met the first time if you remember,” you tease, making his eyebrows raise in challenge. You weren’t supposed to roast him too.
“I guess we’re even then aren’t we?” He counters, smirking when you scoff, wrapping his arm around you so you can’t move away like you try to in fake protest.
Your legs end up draped over the tops of his thighs, fitting snug into his side. The warmth of his body makes your eyelids droopy. The cedar undertones he always carries calms all of your nerves.
“She was beautiful Steve,” you whisper, playing with the chain that dangles off his neck before looking up at him with a smile, “And maybe even a little too cool for you if I dare say.” It’s genuine when it comes out of your mouth, no hidden insecurities, an understanding that he wasn’t settling for you and it makes Steve want to kiss you even more. 
“She would have thought you were way too cool for me too.” He laughs, tracing the side of your face with his fingertips. You want to look away from the intensity of it all but you force yourself to hold his stare, keeping yourself open for him. It’s quiet for a few minutes, letting everything that was shared tonight really sink in. That stray you missed so much makes an appearance and you finally get to be the one that pushes it back, and his hair is just as soft as you imagined.
“What are you doing on the fourth, pretty girl?” The new nickname makes you shift in your seat, the hint of a smug smirk begs to break across his face when he catches it. Maybe he’s still got it.
“Nothing, I got the day off.” You hate that his question is enough to make you shy.
It’s too hard to hold his gaze this time, but he doesn’t let that slide. His fingers hook under your chin to tilt your eyes back up to his. Noses brushing, your lips just inches apart like this.
“Be my date to the block party?” He whispers, whiskey and tobacco still lingering on his breath. 
You smile, nudging your nose against his in a dare.
“I’d love to Steve.” His name comes out around strawberry chapstick lips, they brush with his feeling like velvet and it makes his nostrils flare.
He dips his head with a groan kissing the corner of mouth instead, before placing one on both your cheeks and another, a lingering one, against your forehead. 
“In honor of not doing things backwards, I’m going to wait until I’ve taken you out. The way it should happen. The way someone like you deserves.”
Steve wants to make you feel special too.
It's hard for you to feel rejected with his reasoning and seeing the clock on your stove read in bright red numbers - 2:46am. The fourth was only three days away now.
You play it off with a roll of your eyes and a dramatic “fine” that makes him really laugh for the first time all night, giving you another kiss on the cheek. This one a little wet. He can’t get enough of the way you can’t look at him after.
It’s another thirty minutes before he decides it’s time to go home when your yawn is too loud to hide and your head presses harder into his chest. He wishes he could stay, and one night he knows he will.
You both linger in the doorway with fingers wrapped up tight, neither one of you ready to let go. He just wants to stare at you, but he knows the alarm stuffed in his pocket is going to make his life miserable in three hours.
Instead, he gives you another kiss on the forehead telling you he’ll text in the morning, and he wishes he could have a picture of the smile you give him when you promise to text back.
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beta’d by @superblysubpar
dividers by @newlips
older!steve edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple
🌇 -> chapter eight
867 notes · View notes
Text
Perv!Charlie Walker headcanons
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
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warning : perverted behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, obsession, nothing graphical, mention of nudeness, clueless reader, obsessed love
second part , third part, fourth part
masterlist
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
°It all started when you switched to his history class. When you came in and chose a seat diagonally opposite to him. You hadn't noticed his presence when you entered. But his gaze fixed on you the whole class. You were perfect. More perfect than Kirby could ever have been.
°My beautiful victim he thought as he walked past her, trying to catch a glimpse of her scent. You smelled so sweet and innocent. He would make her his Sydney. Keep her forever.
°A few weeks passed and his obsession with her grew from day to day. Every day he tried to talk to you as often as he could. No matter if it was the little talks during the break. Trivial or not, it was all the same. Your affection was enough for him. He just needed to have you with him. Just for him.
°He could hardly believe his luck when one day you asked him if you could come to the film club.
°Of course he immediately agreed and couldn't hide the blush on his cheeks when you pulled him into a thankful hug. You are so soft and warm...she's everything he thought as his arms wrapped around your body. It was only a moment but it meant so much more to him.
°The weeks went by and besides the activities at the club he helped her with her homework almost every day. Acting a little foolish with his own, knowing that you would help him. That you would pull him into the library and the two of you would sit together at the table next to each other. Yet you didn't see the look in his blue eyes. But he saw her and his heart beat with happiness every time you pulled him here by the wrist. She likes me he thought delightedly and continued to watch you.
°Soon he would find a way to get to know you even better. To see you whenever he wanted. To record you in his camera. Just for himself.
°It was the last lunch break before the weekend when he approached her. A smile played around his lips as she waved at him. A simple plan but it would do. ,,Hey, I was wondering if you would like to work together on the history presentation?" he asked and immediately saw her nod. ,,Of course I would love to, how about tomorrow afternoon, my parents are at work so we can relax" she suggested and there was joy in her eyes as she almost proudly told him about the free house. ,,Cool, see you tomorrow," he said, knowing that you would already have him in your house forever.
°As soon as he was in your house the next day his heart beat faster with joy. It was your house, your home, just you and him. He looked at your shape as you walked up the stairs in front of him and showed him your room. ,,You have good taste," he commented and smiled. You couldn't have been more perfect. Several horror movie posters and fantasy books were on the wall. Some he had read and watched himself. She's perfect for me he thought, letting his fingers roam over some of the books and posters.
°Everything here seemed to reflect you as if he could see and understand you so indirectly. He could touch you. He heard you say that you would fetch something to drink from the cellar. He just nodded before waiting for the door to close. His smile widened, his gaze determined as he pulled out of his backpack the many small cameras. They were not cheap, but for you, anything was enough. He quickly thought of the right places and set up the cameras. Before he saw on his mobile phone that he could see the whole room.
°He listened, but you were still searching in the basement. Before his gaze fell on your dresser with clothes inside. A blush crept into his cheeks. He knew he was close to being caught. But he wanted to finally possess something of you. To finally have you. Just a small part. Carefully he opened one of the many drawers. Your clothes came out, with the same engaging smell. It's almost like she's embracing me, he thought with a sigh as he reached for one of your t-shirts and stuffed it into his backpack.
°Then his eyes caught a pair of black folded panties with black lace. His cheeks grew even darker. His fantasy of what you would look like in them began to come together in his head. She's only wearing it for me he thought and a furtive smile crept onto his lips. It smelled just like you. Hastily he stuffed the garment into his backpack before the door to your room opened only a moment later.
°The remaining hours he was full of enthusiasm and admiration. He enjoyed the contact, touched you as often as he could and finally wanted to have you for himself. Only when you said goodbye to him in the evening did he practically run home. Connecting his mobile phone to his computer and opening the programme, he finally saw your room.
°You had already gone back to your bedroom and had just closed the curtains to your window when you started to undress. ,,So beautiful," he murmured and zoomed in with the camera. He saw you take off your pullover and fold it carefully. He saw your torso, saw the dark red bra with black lace that nestled comfortably against your breasts. His heart beat faster, you were so unbelievably captivating. He saw her take off her trousers and put them with the pullover. A matching pair of panties in the same colour showed itself to him. They clung to your hips and your body.
°He thought you were going to bed when you turned to one of the cameras. For a moment he was afraid that you had seen him. Instead you walked to your full body mirror and took off your bra. For a split moment, all thought was gone from his mind. Before he felt the slight tug at his centre. He could see your naked breasts and you seemed to almost present yourself to him as you looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. Before she finally went to her bed and lay down under the covers. It turned him on, nervous and crazy for you, knowing that you slept only in your underwear.
°For him, for his image of you, you seemed to long for him. Seeming to wait for him. Loving him too. He continued to watch you through the hours. Taking in every bit of your features that he saw and loving you more and more. ,,Charlie" he heard you murmur as you moved slightly and seemed to almost hug the blanket. She's dreaming of me, the brown-haired man realised, and at that moment he would have loved to look inside your head.
°But for him it was just another proof. Another proof that maybe he should slip into your room tonight. Into you. Not just watch you anymore. Finally kiss you and finally have you to himself. Not kill you no you were better than Sydney he would keep you with him. You loved him as much as he loved you, he just knew it. But in the end you would have no choice. For no matter how much time passed he would always be watching you. Because love would always find its way. Willingly or not.
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cz19y · 2 months
Note
Heyyy, I was wondering if you could pls do head canons with sae, rin, isagi, n shidou (separately) w/ a fem!s/o who is thick (big booty n pudgy stomach)? It can be either sfw or nsfw. No pressure tho, take ur time n have a good day! 💕
MY LOVELY ! [HCs]
Multiple × Thick!Fem!Reader
FT.: Sae & Rin Itoshi, Isagi Yoichi, Shidou Ryusei
∆ SFW/fluff & suggestive, mention of bad comments, hint of insecurity, mention of abandonment issues[Rin’s part], characters aged up, OOC[? prob], some of them will be quite short[sorry], first time writing thick!Reader, grammar spelling errors[?].
NOTE: I never had an ask before and I have NO experience in writing for thick!Reader, so, perdon me for bad writing (:’0
I tried to do some research/reference from other fics cuz I really don't want to get y’all uncomfortable with incorrect wording, perdon me once again. Aside from that; I was shocked when I saw that I had a surprise in my inbox[I was giggling and going crazy bc I got nervous]. I hope I got the request right ! Srry if not :0
[ Stating . . . ]
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ SAE ITOSHI
Glares and glares hard when someone makes you uncomfortable.
Likes to steal you from whatever is occupying your precious attention and makes ya take his afternoon nap with him.
Pinches softly your sides — finds it soft.
His fetish can be clear as a say behind locked doors haha-
No place on this earth is better to take a nap on your tummy.
He had no idea of what to do when you first got insecure — he’s aware he lacks comforting skills and for that moment, he was desperate to learn it for the sake of his heart to see you happy again.
Keeps you away from the public's eye if you're comfortable with attention.
But if you're okay being seen in public, he's also okay.
Although, he likes keeping you to himself.
His manager is tired of him running off or ditching him to some place because he saw something that you’d like.
I feel like he'd get a little jealous when you interact with Shidou a little too much.
Keeping you away from Shidou.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ RIN ITOSHI
Takes notice of every outfit and his eyes soften every time he can admire you.
So pretty. So beautiful.
Thinks you're breathtaking and will shut down whatever makes you uncomfortable or insecure.
His words are sharp — nobody dares talk badly about you anymore if that was ever the case.
Rin craves touch if knowing him enough — watching horror movies while cuddling are the best.
Tries his best to comfort you whenever insecure.
“Don't let those lukewarm lowlifes get to you.”
If his lover worries about him going for someone better; just know that he’ll never do that.
He knows what it feels like to be abandoned — he’s somewhat emotionally mature[I think], Rin wouldn't get emotionally attached to someone just to abandon them.
“You know I’ll never abandon you, idiot.”
Reassures the best he can.
Likes kissing your gummy hands. Adores how they feel.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ISAGI YOICHI
Hypnotized when you sit.
The fat of your thighs only makes him lose the goody-shoes manner he has.
Dreams of sleeping in between your tight.
Fetish aside, finds you stunning.
Really- he worships you with stars in his eyes and kisses all over his beloved, favorite girl without being asked or hesitant.
Likes cuddling after practice or a tired day. You fill out his energy bar like no one can.
A feeling of proudness washes over him seeing you getting along with his friends.
Slur Isagi can be found outside the field if anyone talks bad about you.
begs Talks to Chigiri to give him some tips with girl stuff cuz he has no experience with it.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ SHIDOU RYUSEI
Absolutely in love with you.
No matter your form — thick, chubby, fat, — he doesn't care.
Says it's even better that you have that extra fluffiness.
Can't keep his hands to himself — adores how your tummy is soft and warm.
I can picture him taking a chomp out of you.
You're not allowed to feel insecure, not under his watch 🗣️🗣️
We all know he slapped your booty [more than] once.
His whole team is tired of him talking about his girlfriend — especially Rin, he’s ready to cut out his ears and fill out the hole with concrete.
Likes your tummy rolls. Finds them adorable.
You two can go nonstop about anything and everything half asleep while his hand caresses your sides.
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cinnajun · 9 months
Text
ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: 365 days | pgw
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summary | the first year of your relationship with park gunwook, quantified by 12 separate events.
genre | park gunwook x fem!reader, high school!au, very slice of life, fluff, angst, y/n is bisexual, roughly 1 month has passed in between every part
warnings | jealousy + attempted sabotage, the horrors of girlhood (insecurity, slight mention of beauty standards, comparison)
wc | 12.7k
a/n: if you listen close enough you can hear me screaming in agony ++ can someone please remind me how to think up ideas that don't require several thousands of words
ft. youngeun and yeseo from kep1, boys planet/redstartz junhyeon, ppl i made up
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i. confession
Tears bunch in your eyes as you sit behind your school building, the intensifying heat of spring embracing you like a warm hug. You feel devastated like someone had just stabbed you through the heart and left you to bleed.
“I think you’re overreacting, [First].” Youngeun’s voice is gravelly over the phone yet still uneasy, overall impacted by the sound of her gym class. Yeseo, who’s sitting next to you, hummed, although you weren’t sure if she was agreeing with Youngeun or not. “I mean, is it so bad he knows? It was bound to happen, probably.”
“Well, no, it wasn’t,” you stuttered, trying to keep the urge to sob and scream at bay. “And, to be fair, that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about what else Yukyung was telling people without me knowing.”
Youngeun begins to speak but doesn’t get more out than a squeak, and you can almost imagine her opening and closing her mouth in an instant. Yeseo picks up the slack, saying, “Well, it’s worse to assume than to deal with the facts. Yukyung, for whatever reason, told Gunwook about your crush on him and showed him the texts, and it’s getting out among our classmates. In my opinion, there’s one course of action you should take.”
“Which is?”
“Youngeun tells Gunwook that you want to talk to him after school, and then you talk to him after school.”
You groaned audibly and Youngeun gasped, presumably in horror. You stared at her in exasperation, letting a single tear fall down your face. Yeseo wiped it off with her cardigan’s sleeve, frowning at you. “I mean, the worst that could happen is that he doesn’t feel the same way and you feel embarrassed for a couple of months. And we all unfriended Yukyung pretty much instantly, so she won’t be around anymore.”
“Doesn’t matter, still happened,” you replied. “I don’t want to see him ever again. I’d rather die than see him again.”
Yeseo put a hand on your back, while Youngeun yelped at the sound of a basketball hitting the closet she was hiding in. “I’ll ask him, and you’re gonna do it, [First]. You can’t skip a week of school during the first week of school.”
“Who said I was going to skip?”
“Every time you’re minorly embarrassed by something you skip school,” Yeseo said, looking at you like you were insane. “Like that one time you got a bad score on our math midterms during our first year and the teacher asked you what happened in front of everyone, so you skipped 2 days and sulked in your room.”
“That was warranted,” Youngeun commented, which caused Yeseo to glare at the phone. “But! Not the point. For all you know, Gunwook could like you back, and you’ll be able to say you had a boyfriend in high school. Right?”
“The chances of that are incredibly low,” you whined, drawing your knees up to your chest and burying your head in between them. “We’ve barely even talked. We just sit kind of next to each other during our cram classes, and that’s it.”
“He could be delusional too!”
“Are you calling me delusional?”
“The bell is about to ring,” Yeseo cut in, grabbing your phone out of your hands. You immediately popped out of your fetal position, reaching for it as quickly as you could. “Youngeun, leave the supply closet and ask him, please. Pick a location and text the groupchat. [First] and I have to go back to the classroom so we don’t get in trouble for skipping our study block.”
With that, she hung up and left you to your devices. The day passed agonizingly slowly after that, and you found yourself struggling to focus on anything your teacher said. At some point during your study block, Yukyung had left, leaving you alone at your desk with no seatmate to annoy or watch (not that you wanted her there, anyway) for the day. That was likely out of embarrassment, too, as now your classmates, who generally liked you, weren’t as sure on how to deal with the newfound information.
The only other thing worth noting was that, during your 5-minute break in between classes, Yeseo told your homeroom teacher what happened and she approved you switching hers and Yukyung’s desks after school, but, other than that, you felt your sanity whittling away by the minute.
Youngeun had haphazardly chosen a tree behind the gym, typically reserved for successful confessions, because she’d been staring at it out the window as she talked to Gunwook (which she described as the scariest conversation of her life) and didn’t know where else would work.
According to her, he’d blushed as she asked, accepting on the pretense that it wouldn’t take long because he promised his older brother that he’d get dinner with him that night. Initially, you lamented over the fact that you wouldn’t have anyone to stare at during your after-school classes, but it quickly dawned on you that he thought you were going to confess to him (which was true—you were going to confess to him).
Then, when you got done with class for the day, one of your classmates—Gyuvin—hit you on the shoulder on the way out with a quick “good luck!”
It took Yeseo dragging you to the gym and offering you $20 and a free fun drink afterward for you to get used to the idea you were doing this, and about another 3 minutes of you panicking at her in a hushed whisper while she told you to get over yourself. Then, Youngeun sprinted over, panting and still half in her gym clothes.
“You didn’t change after gym?”
“Not the focus! You’re actively making him wait!” she choked out, apparently exhausted from her mad dash. You rolled your eyes, dropping your bag down next to them and taking a deep breath.
“If I throw up on him, I’m going to kill you.”
With that, you began your death march to the tree, where Gunwook stood, scrolling through his phone. The sight of him made your stomach explode with butterflies, which you tried to shut down given your (supposed) fate of rejection. You were mentally preparing yourself to be in turmoil for the next few days, but deep down, all you wanted was to rewind time to when you told Yukyung about your silly, little crush and stop it from ever happening.
Your crush on Gunwook was never meant to go anywhere but your brain, and now you were walking up to him, about to pour out feelings that were half-manufactured by Yukyung convincing there was a future that would come with them.
“Hi,” you managed, causing Gunwook to spin around and shove his phone in his pocket.
“Hi,” he replied, scratching his neck as if he was unsure what to do with his hands. “Um, how are you?”
It was a stupid question, and you could tell he knew that. Of course you wouldn’t be doing well—one of your best friends told the entire world (him, and then one of his friends leaked it to the rest of the school) your entire life story (a single crush).
“Could be better.”
“Yeah.”
You looked off to the side, seeing Gyuvin and Junhyeon, who you knew were close to him, watching from a second-story window in the school building. You tried to ignore it, but you knew you’d hyperfocus on it now.
“Look, I’m sorry,” you finally breathed out, twiddling your thumbs. “Yukyung—I don’t know what to say that you don’t already know. I guess I have a bit of a crush on you. Sorry.”
“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” he asked, sounding genuinely perplexed. You looked back up at him, shrugging.
“Well, it’s weird. We don’t really know each other, and then a girl you don’t know very well is suddenly telling you that I’m head over heels for you.”
“You’re not?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say it that way, no. Just a crush. Not much else.”
You thought there would be a weight off your shoulders once you managed to say it to his face, but it was, quite literally, the opposite. Your stomach was tightening up and your throat was closing, but you didn’t move, just staring him in the face.
“So it would be awkward if I professed my undying love for you right now.”
You flinched at that, frowning. “That was kind of mean.”
Gunwook’s face dropped when you said that, and he shook his head rapidly. “No, not—I wasn’t making fun of you, I swear. I promise. It was a bad way of saying I have a crush on you too. Sorry. Uncalled for. Didn’t mean it.”
The words fell from his mouth like an avalanche, and all you could do was stare at him in awe. “Wait, really? Why?”
“Why? I don’t know. We spend a lot of time together, even if we don’t talk often,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We were in the same class for our first year, then we started at the same cram school, and now we sit near each other. You’re entertaining to watch when you’re taking notes.”
“You stare at me in class?” you asked, genuinely shocked at his admission. You thought you stared at him enough during the same classes that it was impossible he could’ve been doing the same thing. Apparently, he was good at catching you when you weren’t watching his every move. “Creep.”
“Like you don’t? If I’m a creep, what are you? You’re way worse than I am,” he replied. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. What now?”
You tapped your chin, looking back over at the window Gyuvin and Junhyeon had been in. They were gone now, presumably to meet Gunwook when your conversation was over. “We could try being a ‘thing.’”
“A thing?”
“I don’t think we know each other well enough for like—I don’t know, for me to call you boyfriend,” you replied. “So we can just be a ‘thing.’ No strings attached! And we can go on a date or two. Maybe.”
“A date or two? Whereabouts?”
You smiled, and he did too; you were shocked at how well he managed to goad information out of you. You tended to say things but never follow up on them, not unless you were pestered over and over again—it had taken Yeseo nearly a year to get it down.
“Do you like the zoo? Recently, I’ve been wanting to go to the zoo. They have a new baby bear—cub?—that I wanna see. Perhaps on Sunday? Are you free then?”
“I might be free on Sunday,” he said, handing his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it, pressing a couple of buttons before handing it to you with an empty contact screen open. “How about we talk about it later? I’m late for meeting my brother.”
You typed in your name and number, sending yourself a quick text so you’d be able to initiate if you felt he didn’t text you fast enough. “Sounds good to me. I’ll see you later. Tell your brother I said hello.”
“Okay, sounds good,” Gunwook chuckled. He reached out and ruffled your hair, giving you a wide, bright smile that could’ve overpowered the sun if he tried hard enough. “I’ll see you later, so we can start our ‘thing.’”
“Yup, bye-bye. See you tomorrow.”
ii. lunchtime
You and Gunwook, mostly on purpose, don’t spend a lot of time together at school. Sometimes, you say hi and smile at him when you walk into his classroom to grab Youngeun, but, other than that, you keep it separate.
For one thing, it makes it easier to keep it “no strings attached,” as you’d proclaimed the day Yukyung briefly ruined your life, but it also was somewhat fun for you and him to not address what happened. Thanks to Gyuvin, half—if not all—of your grade had heard about it, and someone had spotted the both of you under that god-forsaken tree, but you hadn’t said a thing.
For you two, it was like nothing had happened, and, for everyone else, it was like a bomb they were just hoping would go off. It was fun—like you were living out a cliche, teen drama.
So, when Gunwook sauntered into your classroom in the middle of your lunch period, proudly holding a bottle of special juice you briefly talked about wanting, you were somewhat shocked. For the most part, you weren’t mentally prepped to interact with him during the day, especially as Yukyung watched on with her new couple of friends from the corner of the room.
You, Youngeun, and Yeseo stared at him as he approached, Gyuvin following close behind. He put the drink down in front of you, a proud smile on his face. “Look,” he said, gesturing towards it, so you looked. It was a brand of juice—they advertised it as a “smoothie,” but it was just slightly thicker juice—that you’d enjoyed a lot on a trip to the United States that you’d gone on a while back.
You hadn’t seen it once in Korea, even after taking Yeseo with you to search for it for hours. “Where in the world did you get this?” you spluttered out, picking it up. It was chilled, too, as if he’d been keeping it in a refrigerator (or, an insulated lunch box with an ice pack in it).
“He didn’t,” Gyuvin snorted, putting an arm around Gunwook’s shoulder. “Junhyeon did while he was in Busan this weekend.”
Gunwook hit him hard on the chest, clearing his throat. “Do you like it? Are you excited?”
“The right flavor and everything,” you replied, a surge of joy running through you. “Thank Junhyeon for me, okay?”
Gunwook scoffed, mumbling, “It’s not like I didn’t pay him back twice the price or anything,” under his breath. You held up your fist, to which Gunwook stared at it, somewhat dumbfounded.
“What?”
“You want a fist bump from me?” he asked incredulously. You nodded, exaggerating the movements to make it seem like he was missing the obvious. So, he bumped your fist with his, shaking his head. “See you after school, [First].”
“Yup, I’ll see you.”
And you watched him walk out, Gyuvin in tow—and, from the corner of your eye, you saw Yukyung watching his every move, up until he left the classroom.
iii. field trip
The third-year field trip was something you’d looked forward to for a long time—as a way to force students to take a break from their studying, your school sent all the first years to some fun location, paying for most of it with donations they got from alumni and parents.
This year, they’d had the bright idea to send you all to Hawaii, which had been both shocking and exciting. The farthest they’d ever sent anyone was Jeju, and that was a few years ago; but, they’d got some huge donation this year and decided to splurge.
So far, the trip had been fun, for the most part. On the airplane, you’d forced Gunwook to sit next to you so that you could hold his hand every time the plane shook (he’d laughed at you over your fear of turbulence, but you were too aware of the fact that he was rubbing your hand with his thumb to care). Almost all of your classmates, to whom you had not disclosed the nature of your “thing” yet, had stared at you every time they walked past. About halfway through, Youngeun, who’d volunteered to be the third wheel, leaned over and told you she was pretty sure the news was making its way down the plane, and people were getting up to fact-check it for the row members.
“That’s stupid,” Gunwook laughed, pulling your hand onto his tray table. “Doesn’t everyone know [First] is just afraid of planes? Nothing else going on here, not at all.”
Then Yeseo had popped her head above her seat and turned around to face you, an eyebrow raised. “Have you two kissed yet?” she’d asked out of nowhere, to which you shrugged.
“Why would we kiss when nothing is going on?”
Then, upon arrival, you and Gunwook had sat next to one another on the bus to the hotel, to which you’d promptly fallen asleep on his shoulder (since you didn’t sleep much on the plane) for the entire ride. You woke up to him holding your hand again, scrolling through his phone haphazardly.
After that, you’d had all eyes on the both of you—when you got to the hotel, while you were listening to your teachers give instructions, while keys were being handed out. And, as a result of what you assumed was anxiety over not knowing English, Gunwook and his two friends, Junhyeon and Gyuvin, followed you, Yeseo, and Youngeun around for the entire trip.
Then, on the third day of the trip, Gunwook asked if you’d want to go on a date with him. The idea was silly to you—not because you didn’t want to, but because you were two teenagers going on a date on your almost-all-expenses-paid trip to Hawaii.
That’s what you were doing now. It was the day before you were to head back home, and Gunwook had, for lack of a better word, taken you out. To a fancy restaurant—where he made you translate the entire menu and order for him—and to get some sort of fancy pineapple dessert afterward. Now, you were strolling on the beach, watching the sun fall below the horizon slowly but surely.
“How much longer until curfew?” you asked, turning around to face him. You continued walking backward, lacing your hands together behind your back.
“About half an hour. We’re close enough to the hotel that we don’t have to start walking back now, but we should think about it soon.”
You hummed, stopping abruptly. You faced the shoreline, listening to the sound of the waves draw in and out like breaths from a sleeping person. It was so alive, yet not at the same time, and it mesmerized you; you’d never seen an ocean like this before.
“You look pretty tonight,” he mused, staring at you rather than the ocean. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the comment.
“Look at yourself in the mirror.”
“I’m not pretty, I’m beautiful, thank you very much.”
A question was bubbling up in your throat now, much like the water in front of you. You felt a surge of anxiety wash through your stomach, and you were mentally transported back to that tree from a couple of months ago. The pure embarrassment you felt was gone and replaced with a sort of hope that was more painful than uplifting, as if it was a glass cup teetering on the edge of a table.
“I have a question,” you started, banishing the unease from your stomach.
“Oh, yeah?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. He wouldn’t look away from you, no matter how much you tried to focus on the sight in front of you. A crooked smile bloomed on his face which should’ve quelled your worries in an instant, but, for some reason, it only made them worse. “I suppose I have an answer for you.”
“Do you?”
“I just might, if you manage to ask the question.”
“Okay, here I go,” you said, mustering up all your courage and turning to face him. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and you immediately felt discouraged just looking at him. He was right—he was beautiful, almost impossibly so. Yet, here you were, boring and average, barely even able to hold a T to him. Plus, the only reason you were even here was because someone you’d considered a best friend had told him you liked him, and now you were getting into your head over something that was long over.
His smile dropped a bit when he (most likely) realized you were panicking a bit, but he didn’t say anything, simply waiting patiently for you to continue. You forced yourself to regain focus, shaking your head as the image of Yukyung permeated in your mind. He grabbed both of your hands as a way to help soothe the worry, and it worked as well as it could, pulling you back into reality.
“Do you want to be my boyfriend, maybe?” you finally asked, watching as his face lit up against the sun.
“Do I?” he asked back, allowing himself to smile fully. “This is the best question I’ve ever been asked. Seriously.”
“Seriously?”
Gunwook giggled, swinging your hands around a bit. “Can I kiss you? Pretty please?”
“Can you?” you mimicked, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. Gunwook giggled again, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. It was slow and sweet, his lips soft and tasting slightly of the pineapple you’d had earlier. He laughed and smiled through the entire thing, squeezing your hands in delight before letting go and wrapping his hands around your waist. As cliche as it was, you draped your hands around his neck, starting to giggle too.
When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours, still chuckling in delight. “This is so exciting,” he said, rocking you back and forth on the sand. “I’m so excited. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this for my entire life, you know? Even if I’ve only known you for three years. I can’t explain it—it’s unexplainable. I’m so excited.”
“You know what, I’m getting the idea you might be excited.”
And Gunwook shut you up with another elated kiss, ending your night in an impenetrable wall of pure joy.
iv. sleepover
Your parents were adventurers and you decidedly weren’t, which often meant you had your house to yourself. It was nice, mostly because it allowed you to spread out all your study stuff on the dining room table and do all of your work right then and there without your parents talking to you every 20 seconds.
Sometimes, though, things didn’t go as planned, and you had to do things you didn’t want to do. Namely, spend the night in the house completely alone. Every creak or thump made your heart beat out of your chest, which ended up in you taking a knife and a flashlight through the entire house with the emergency number pre-dialed.
Oftentimes, it ended with you not sleeping and then having to miss school because of over-exhaustion.
You were sitting in your living room while on the phone with Gunwook (he claimed you were moral support for his studying) when your mom texted you, the message starting with a bunch of emojis, which was her way of beginning a message with bad news.
“Oh god,” you said, cutting through the hour-long silence you’d maintained with your boyfriend.
“Huh? What’s up?”
“My mom texted me. There’s some huge accident on the freeway, so they’ve got the entire thing blocked off. Traffic is awful on other routes so they’re just going to pull off to a motel and sleep there tonight.”
“Oh no,” he said, and you could tell he was preoccupied with whatever math problem he was doing. “House to yourself, I guess?”
“I’m glad it’s Saturday,” you said, frowning. “I’m not gonna get any sleep tonight.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like being completely alone in the house. I’m convinced someone’s gonna come in and kill me.”
“Hmm,” Gunwook hummed, pausing briefly. “I could come over and stay the night? I’ll leave early in the morning so they don’t find out I was there.”
Realistically, you knew you should say no because the chance of your parents finding out about Gunwook terrified you, but you had poor judgment and liked your boyfriend too much to turn down seeing him. “Would you actually? It’s kind of late, and I wouldn’t want to make you walk that much in the dark.”
“It’s not that far of a walk,” he said, and you could hear him packing his school stuff already. The sound of pencils clinking against pencils and books closing made you feel all warm and fuzzy—instead of studying for the test that was going to decide his fate as an adult, he was coming to make sure you felt comfortable and safe.
“Oh yeah, because 30 minutes is ‘not that far.’ Just get it over with and tell me you’re in love with me.”
Gunwook cleared his throat at your quip, choking on air. You snickered, finding how flustered he got at the “L-word” quite cute (as if you wouldn’t do the same thing). “I’ll be there shortly.”
He hung up the phone without saying bye, most likely out of embarrassment, which made you feel proud of yourself. And, true to his word, he showed up about fifty minutes later, balancing his school backpack on one arm and another bag on the other. “Do you know how hard it is to jump out of your window with two bags?” he asked, walking into your house as if it was his own. You wondered if he cared about the fact that he’d never actually been inside before, given he’d only ever walked you home, but you assumed his unwillingness to do his usual hello-and-hug meant he was somewhat flustered by it.
“Are you moving in, or something? What’s in the bags?”
“Well, I can’t stay the night without all my nighttime stuff,” he huffed, breezing past you and dropping his bags off next to the stairs. You watched him look around frantically, and you somewhat assumed that he’d hung up on you because he’d realized what exactly he had suggested and had no way of backing out of it now (you hoped he hadn’t even thought about backing out).
“You’re such a diva,” you scoffed, shuffling back into your living room and returning to your position on the couch. He sat next to you, leaning against the armrest and putting his legs on top of yours. You rolled your eyes, picking up the remote and pressing play.
“So, what are we watching?”
“Whatever romcom was playing when I turned the TV on,” you replied, keeping your focus on the screen. Suddenly you were feeling embarrassed even though you’d been feeling so egotistical a second ago, as you were realizing you were in more danger here than he was. He’d successfully snuck out (or so he said, but you were pretty sure he probably told his mom and then snuck out the window to avoid his dad finding out), but your parents lived here, and if they got here before you were expecting them, it was over for you.
It dawned on you that you needed to find out when they were planning on getting back, so you wrenched your phone out of your pocket, furiously typing to your mother. Gunwook noticed, pointing at you and laughing. “You were so high and mighty a second ago, and now look at you. Somebody realized they’re going to be in bigger shit than I am.”
“Shut your mouth,” you hissed, watching the little bubble that indicated your mom was typing.
“Maybe we should send her a selfie, huh? Just so she knows a random teenage boy that she doesn’t know is in her house,” Gunwook continued, sucking all of the confidence you’d once had out of the air. “She’d be super excited, right?”
“If you’re not out of my house by 5:30 tomorrow morning, I’m going to break up with you,” you announced, glaring at him. He made a face at you, shaking his head.
“Be glad I like you so much. Waking up at 5:30 is brutal. I didn’t even do that when Gyuvin got his appendix out and texted me thirty times to ask if I’d be there when he got out of surgery.”
“You liar, Gyuvin literally told me that you showed up with flowers and a get-well-soon card.”
Gunwook blushed at that, clearing his throat. “Okay, whatever, fine. Let’s just watch the movie.”
The two of you got about twenty minutes of the romcom in before he checked the time and announced that you were both going to sleep. You said he could go on his own—midnight was early for both of you, and you weren’t the one waking up at 5:30—but he got all whiney, turning the TV off and picking you up from the couch.
You’d gone through the motions of your nighttime routine together, with Gunwook’s being about fifty steps longer than yours. You ended up sitting on the floor while he put on a million serums and waited thirty minutes in between each one, claiming it was to “let each product soak into his skin.”
You texted Youngeun and Yeseo about it, not thinking about the implications behind waiting for him to finish his skincare routine. Immediately, they began blowing up your phone, and you promptly muted your group chat and their individual text threads, not wanting to deal with the onslaught of questions they were likely unleashing onto you.
Then, you looked up to see Gunwook putting on a lip mask. Knowing it was probably the last step in his routine, you hopped up from the floor, staring at the small, pink container that the gel lived in. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to try that out,” you said, not thinking about it too hard. “Is it nice? Does it work?”
“Shouldn’t you know better than anyone whether it works or not?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You slapped him hard on the shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain. “Okay, geez, yes, it works. Do you want to try some?”
“Oh, can I—”
Before you could even finish your sentence, Gunwook leaned down and kissed you somewhat hard, almost causing you to stumble back a bit. Either way, you almost immediately broke it off, incredibly flustered at the act. You slapped him again, although this time it was a million times weaker. “You’re so stupid, oh my god, you cliche loser.”
“Be grateful I was willing to give you any, this stuff is expensive,” Gunwook said, cackling. He put a bit more on his finger, rubbing it into his lips to compensate for what he lost from kissing you. “I thought you liked kissing me, no?”
“I also like the thought of you getting hit by a train. These things aren’t mutually exclusive,” you huffed, looking to the side. “Whatever. I’m going to my room.”
“Ooh, me too,” he said, draping an arm around your shoulders as you walked past him. He kept himself in step with you, flicking the bathroom light switch off as you both exited the room.
“Who said we’re sleeping in the same room?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Gunwook laughed in your face, causing you to frown.
“Okay, sure, but one noise and you’ll be prancing into the guest room like a scared dog.” “Who said I had a guest room? Go to the couch.” You wiggled out from under his arm, opening the door to your bedroom and flicking the lights on. Gunwook continued following after you, but quickly walked past you and climbed under the duvet on your bed. Somehow, he’d already plugged his phone in and put his bags neatly in the corner of your room—it must’ve been when he walked out to grab his toner pads from his bag—and had settled into your bedroom quite nicely. You stared at him in awe as he yawned, patting the bed next to him.
“It’s bedtime.”
“For you.”
He laughed at you again, patting the bed once more. You shut your bedroom door behind you, turning your phone’s flashlight on and turning the lights off as soon as they’d come on. You shuffled over to the bed, sliding in next to him and cuddling up to him. He reciprocated, putting an arm on your waist and giggling.
“You giggle too much.”
“Good night, [First]. I won’t wake you up tomorrow morning, but I’ll be out by 5:30. Promise.”
Even though you weren’t tired, you fell asleep like a baby next to Gunwook, basking in the warmth he brought. You were pretty sure you’d fallen asleep before him, actually, but you swore up and down it was because he’d been humming to you and rubbing your back in a way that was more relaxing than you would’ve liked it to be.
So, when you woke up the next morning, the sun barely peeking through your curtains, to find him gone, you felt relief. You groaned, turning over to search for your phone, which was, as always, placed on your bedside table.
You picked it up, barely being able to make out the time—5:01 am. Huh, you thought, frowning. He left earlier than he needed.
And then you looked at your notifications—three texts from your mother.
2:34 am—Hi honey, the motel was uncomfortable and we couldn’t sleep, so we’re getting an early start. I know you get paranoid, and I hope you’re not awake, but texting to let you know just in case you are. Should be there about 4:30.
3:47 am—Update, we’ve hit some early traffic, so probably closer to 4:45. It might still be 4:30 if we’re lucky.
Finally, 4:11 am—We got lucky!!! We’ll be there in 10. Assuming you’re asleep…am glad. Can’t wait to be in my own bed.
You shot up from your bed, suddenly feeling more awake than you’d ever been in your life. With what little sunlight there was, you looked to the corner of the room, clearly seeing two black bags that didn’t belong to you. Then, an extra phone on your nightstand.
Panic set in. You, as quietly as you could, got out of bed, shuffling to the door. With a hand haphazardly placed on the knob, you pulled your door open, cringing at even the slightest of noises. You heard the sound of a glass hitting your table downstairs, and you felt like crying.
Slowly, you tiptoed down the stairs, catching sight of Gunwook, blue sweater on and exhaustion written on his face, sitting across from both of your parents. Breakfast was ready on the table, and Gunwook had a full plate in front of him, but it had barely been touched.
He noticed you first, looking up at you from the table. He looked violently uncomfortable, pleading for you to come save him, and you just about turned around and went back to your room.
“[First],” your dad said, turning his head to look at you. “Why don’t you come join us? I suppose you have a few things to explain.”
v. ice cream
You loved summer for a multitude of reasons—the lack of school, the increase in fun treats, and the overall happiness that came upon everyone during your one month off of responsibility. So, when you caught wind of a fair opening up, you knew you couldn’t pass up going.
Your first invites were Yeseo and Youngeun, since the three of you always spent your summers at amusement parks and pop-ups. But, they’d had the bright idea to invite along your boyfriend and his couple of friends—it would be okay, they said, since there’s three of you and three of them. So, you did, and you were entirely grateful that you had.
You didn’t know Gyuvin or Junhyeon very well before today; Gyuvin tended to follow Gunwook around, and Junhyeon had bought you juice once upon a time, but that was about it. It was the same for Gunwook and your couple of friends, as the most they’d interacted with him was on your plane ride to Hawaii.
Seeing your friends getting along with his warmed your heart, and it had put together a day you would never forget, most likely. About twenty minutes ago, your four accompaniments had made up some excuse as to why they needed to separate from the two of you, which had left you strolling through the fair as the sun was beginning to set.
The sky had erupted into a million different colors, namely pinks and purples, which you were particularly enamored by. You’d endearingly linked your arm with Gunwook’s and you’d been walking through the local artist alley that they’d put up.
“I’m glad it’s cooling down,” you said, staring at a booth where a woman was showing off all of her handmade jewelry pieces, which you found to be quite impressive. “As much fun as a fair is, it always sucks when it’s too hot to enjoy.”
“It wasn’t that hot today, though, was it?” he replied. “I mean, it got warm around 3, but that was just about it. I thought today was relatively tame compared to the rest of the week.”
“Okay, Fireboy, whatever you say. But, for the record, tame compared to the rest of the week doesn’t mean much when it was nearly 35° the other day,” you scoffed. Gunwook chuckled, and you looked over at him, intending on continuing to talk about the heat. But, a booth behind him caught your eye, distracting you from whatever you were planning on saying next.
You unlocked your arm from his, smiling mischievously at him. “Wait here,” you said excitedly, pulling your wallet out of your tote bag. You quickly walked over to the ice cream booth that you’d seen in the distance, the thought of how cold it would be tainting your mind. Even just a little bit of freedom from the heat was enough to sweep you off your feet, at this point.
“What would you like?” the server asked, to which you smiled at her, staring at the menu.
“Um, just two vanilla cones, please,” you said, realizing you had no clue what flavor of ice cream he’d even want. You hoped he didn’t have a terrible disdain for vanilla, but you doubted he did, given you’d never seen him actively dislike any food in your life. You got the amount of money it cost out of your wallet and placed it on the counter, shoving your wallet back in your bag.
The server handed them to you, and you thanked her, turning back around to hobble back to where you’d left Gunwook. And, as you did, you were met with quite possibly the worst sight in the world—he stood off to the side of the jewelry booth talking to someone. Namely, he was talking to Yukyung.
Of course she would be here—before she’d broken your trust, she tagged along on your summer adventures. She was your best friend once upon a time, and now, she was not much other than a bad memory, and she was talking to your boyfriend.
You didn’t know how to describe the feeling it evoked. It wasn’t jealousy—you knew what jealousy felt like, and this was too mellow and depressing to be jealousy. Yukyung looked gorgeous, as she always did, dressed in a pretty, flowy, red sundress that just barely brushed against the tops of her shoes. Her makeup was perfect and rosy to match the dress, and she’d braided white ribbon into her hair, which you thought made her look even more elegant than she had before.
Oh, you thought, biting your lip. This is inadequacy.
You watched them talk, and you watched the way she smiled and the way he seemed uncomfortable just from the way he stood. For a brief moment, you thought they even looked a bit good together, but that thought was quickly washed away when you felt ice cream drip onto your finger.
When you looked back up, she was gone, and Gunwook had gone back to lingering. You shook your head, jogging up to him with a smile. “Happy summer,” you said, handing it out to him. He smiled back at you, taking the ice cream cone from your hand.
“Thank you,” he said, taking a big bite straight from the top. You widened your eyes in shock and your face distorted into one of disgust.
“You bite ice cream?”
“And what about it? Do you have a problem with it?”
“Yeah, actually, I do. That’s weird and strange.”
“You know what else is weird and strange?”
“Huh?”
“The fact that you’re letting your ice cream melt all over your hand.”
vi. overwhelmed
You’re wondering how long you can get away with staying in the bathroom before someone notices that you’ve been gone for much longer than you were expecting. You hug your knees to your chest, playing a mindless game in hopes it’ll calm you down at least somewhat.
You knew this would happen at some point—every upperclassman you’d talked to told you that, in the months approaching your college entrance exams, your mental health would plummet. From panic attacks in the bathroom during math classes to not being able to fall asleep until four in the morning.
You just underestimated how much it sucked to feel like this in the first place. You’re no stranger to stress, that much is certain, but this was much more real. And, this sort of panic hit you anywhere and everywhere—including Gyuvin’s birthday party.
Briefly, you glanced at the time—8:02. You’d been in the bathroom for about 10 minutes, and nobody had come looking for you yet, which was good. The bad news was that you weren’t any closer to calming down and were feeling utterly helpless.
As if you’d jinxed yourself, Gunwook texted you at that very moment, asking where you’d gone. You half-assed your reply, saying you were still in the bathroom taking a break from the chaos, ignoring the temptation to ask him to come help you. It would be mean to Gyuvin and him—so, for the sake of your sanity, you’d stay quiet.
Meanwhile, Gunwook stood in one of Gyuvin’s hallways, staring at his phone. Junhyeon had followed him back as Gyuvin was well entertained by Ricky, who he hadn’t seen in nearly a year, and stood next to him, leaning against the wall.
“Things have been weird lately.” Gunwook frowned, reading over your text again and again. Junhyeon tilted his head inquisitively.
“Weird how?”
“Just…I don’t know, she’s been weirdly distant from time to time. Everything will be fine, and she’ll shut off with no warning. It happens no matter where we are, too—if we’re studying, if we’re walking home, if we’re eating dinner. It’s strange.”
“Could it just be test jitters? I know a lot of couples who broke up in anticipation of the test, with plans to get back together afterward. Like Yuna and Jaechan, in class 4. They did that.”
Gunwook’s frown deepend. “I don’t want to break up with her, though,” he sighed, watching as the typing bubble on your end appeared and disappeared. “Would it be weird to look for her? Like would she find that strange?”
“She probably walked off because she didn’t want to take you away from Gyuvin, but Ricky’s here now, so I don’t think it would be a bad idea, per se,” Junhyeon said, patting his shoulder. “But make sure she doesn’t feel bad taking you away from everything. I think Gyuvin would understand. And Ricky wants to meet her, so no harm in making sure nothing’s wrong.”
Gunwook bit the edge of his lip, shoving his phone into his pocket. Gunwook gave Junhyeon a pat on the shoulder, and he nodded, walking back toward the bulk of the party.
The bathroom was behind a bed sheet curtain that Gyuvin had hung up before the party, with a lame “do not enter” sign taped to it. He’d proceeded to give you, Gunwook, and Junhyeon special permission to break the rules, as the three of you had been in the house before and knew which rooms were okay to enter and which ones weren’t.
The door was closed and the light was on, which meant you’d gone out of your way to go to the off-limits bathroom, where Yeseo and Youngeun wouldn’t be able to find you. He frowned, raising his hand to knock on the door.
Then, he heard a small sniffle behind the door and stopped. Gunwook had never seen you cry—early into your relationship, you’d told him you weren’t a crier, and not many things pushed you to that point. At the time, it had been relieving, as he didn’t know you well enough to even attempt to comfort you.
But, now a good three months had passed, and he still had no clue what to do, which made him feel more stressed than relieved. Nevertheless, now that he knew, he couldn’t just leave you, so he knocked on the door.
Your response was, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Gunwook took that as an invitation to open the door, finding you sitting on the floor of Gyuvin’s bathroom while holding your phone. You weren’t crying, but he could tell you were close to it. He slipped inside, closing the door behind him, and sitting next to you on the ground.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, scooting closer to you so you’d be shoulder-to-shoulder. You shrugged, looking off to the side.
“I’m stressed. You know, with the college entrance exams and graduating stuff, the world is just a lot right now. I didn’t think it would hit here, though, but the number 18 being passed around made me think about it too much. It’s silly.”
“No, it’s not,” Gunwook replied. “It’s okay to be stressed out about something stressful, even if you’re at a birthday party. And it’s okay to tell me because Gyuvin’s friend came to surprise him after he moved to California, so he’s not upset that I’m gone. Okay?”
Your lip quivered a bit, and Gunwook put his arm around you, pressing you into his side. He rubbed your shoulder reassuringly as you sniffled again, obviously having to try harder to keep your feelings in.
At that moment, you wanted to spew everything at him. Your feelings of insecurity towards Yukyung, the stress you felt knowing he was going to get into some fancy university and you probably weren’t, how scary everything was right at this moment.
But, you stayed quiet and chose to burst into tears instead. The moment one tear escaped from your eye, the rest did, too, and you found yourself crying into Gunwook’s chest. He was rocking you back and forth, rubbing your back while you covered his shirt in your tears.
You felt miserable—if you could, you wanted to pause time, run outside, and scream. At what, you were unsure, but you needed it, more than you needed anything else in the entire world. You could only take this for so much longer.
“I’m here for you,” Gunwook whispered, squeezing you gently. “I’ll always be here, I promise.”
You took his words to heart.
vii. wisdom teeth
On day four of Gunwook’s wisdom-teeth recovery, you’d been asked to be his caregiver, which you were okay with. His mom, who was infinitely grateful that you’d offered to take care of her son, assured you that he was technically cleared to go back to normal after day 3, but he was still feeling a bit wonky, and his pain medicine enhanced the wonkiness.
Your jobs were as such: make soup or mashed potatoes when he asked, remind him to clean his wounds if he forgets, and hang out with him. You found the list quite easy and told his mom that you’d make sure he was all good and cared for.
You underestimated, however, how needy your boyfriend would be. The moment you’d walked into his bedroom to wake him up, he attached himself to you, whining about how much he’d missed you over the past few days. He spoke as if you’d gone off to war and left him behind with your nonexistent children, insisting that your absence had ruined his life.
After you managed to make him brush his teeth, spray salt water into his mouth, and eat his breakfast (a bowl of yogurt), he passed out on the couch, leaving you to do whatever seemed appealing at the moment. Initially, you spent your time scrolling through all the selfies he’d sent you of his face all swollen and puffy, which had got you giggling. Then, you had the bright idea to help 
You started by slightly cleaning his room up, feeling pretty good about yourself as you washed his clothes and his sheets. In your mind, you were building a resume to ensure his mom liked you, and you were going to earn extra affection from it, so you didn’t care about the repetitiveness at all.
About halfway through your cleaning adventures, Gunwook appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, staring at you folding the load of laundry you did. “How are you?” you asked, continuing to fold his t-shirts.
“Have I ever told you that you’re perfect?” he mumbled, shuffling over and draping himself onto you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and shoved his face into your neck, nearly knocking you over by putting his entire weight on you without warning.
“Only every day,” you replied, giggling. “Seriously though, how are you? Anything feel off or more painful than it did before you napped?”
“No,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your neck. “Stop sounding like my mom. It’s weird.”
“What do you want me to say? ‘I hope you get dry socket?’”
“It’s better than mom-speak,” he replied. “She’s going to love you after today. Not gonna shut up about it.”
“That’s the entire reason that I’m doing all of this.”
“And not to help out your hurting boyfriend? You’re terrible.”
You scoffed, finishing folding the rest of his clothes. “Are you hungry?”
You patted his arm and Gunwook unattached himself from you, letting you turn around to face him. He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. “No. I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you a lot.”
“Did you?”
“My mom said I cried about you being at school right after I got out of surgery,” he replied. You widened your eyes, not expecting him to be that forward about it. “I don’t like being away from you for so long. I hope we never, ever separate.”
You smiled, half-heartedly punching him in the shoulder. “I hope you stay this nice even after you feel fully better.”
Gunwook gave you a serious look as if he was thinking hard about something. You waited awkwardly, staring at one another as he sounded out whatever he was thinking in his head. “Over the past few days, I’ve been thinking a lot about something.”
“Which is…?”
“I’m going to say something,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders. “I’m not expecting a reply. I just need to say it. I’ve thought about it a lot.”
“Okay, go on ahead. I’m listening.”
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if whatever he was going to tell you was stressing him out. It made you get a bit anxious, wondering if he was going to break some terrible news to you. “Over the past couple of days, I’ve missed you a lot, more than I missed Gyuvin and Junhyeon combined. And it was hard only being able to talk to you through texting, even though I only text my friends for days on end sometimes. And it got me thinking about everything, you know? Because it’s all I’ve had to entertain myself since I got my teeth pulled.”
“Right.”
“I love you, [First]. A lot. And it’s okay if you’re not ready to say that yet, I get it. But I do. Truthfully. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”
It felt like a rock was stuck in your throat. You opened your mouth expecting words to come out, but they didn’t—so, you just stood there, staring at Gunwook. He stared back at you, eyes glossy from tiredness and cheeks pink. You weren’t ready—the words were so big and so scary, and it wasn’t that you didn’t love him, you just couldn’t find the words to say it.
Your solution to this was to engulf him in a hug, latching to his waist like you’d done a second ago. No words were needed as he did the same, and, for a while, you stood there, enjoying one another’s company.
viii. mirrors
You don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this gross when looking into a mirror. The dress you’re wearing is gorgeous—it’s long, flowy, and summery, the type of dress that doesn’t look bad on anyone. Yet, staring at yourself right now, you feel utterly disgusting.
It’s the same type of dress you saw Yukyung wearing at the fair, and, when you look at yourself, all you can do is compare yourself to her. Even when you were best friends, this was a problem you had, but it wasn’t nearly as awful when she made you feel safe and loved. Now, it felt threatening and nauseating.
Gunwook knocked on the door of your dressing room, causing you to wince. “[First], are you done? Can I see?”
“Yeah, sure. One second.”
You quickly retied the bow around your waist, hoping it would make you feel a little less awful. It didn’t have the intended effect, but you turned around anyway, opening the door to the dressing room. Gunwook’s expression bloomed into a smile the moment he saw you, but, instead of feeling loved, you only remembered the way he looked at Yukyung with slight disdain at the fair while she wore the same thing.
“You look so beautiful,” he said, which caused you to subconsciously frown. He noticed immediately, his smile morphing into a frown to mirror you. “What’s wrong? Do you not like it?”
You turned around, staring at yourself in the mirror once more. “I don’t feel pretty in it,” you said, trying to be as upfront with your emotions as you could. You saw Gunwook’s jaw drop in his reflection in the mirror as if he couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
“How in the world could you not feel pretty? It fits you perfectly, and it’s entirely on theme for your cousin’s wedding. You look gorgeous, I swear. Everyone would agree with me.”
“Are you sure?” you asked, hoping and praying that, if he said it for a third time, the image of Yukyung in your mind would miraculously go away. He nodded earnestly, making the most serious look you’d ever seen him produce.
“One thousand percent. And I’m not just saying it because I’m your boyfriend, I mean it. You look beautiful, and every other synonym of beautiful. I’m serious.”
You nodded, fabricating a smile so you could take it off and put your sweater back on. “Okay, I’ll get it then. I’m sure my mom will agree.”
You shut the dressing room door, fighting the urge to slam your head into the mirror. You just pulled the dress off of you, replacing it with your normal clothes and putting it back on the hanger, swiftly exiting the room so you’d no longer be facing the mirror.
After that, you’d tried to escape the mall as quickly as you could, dragging Gunwook through the corridors like you were on a mission. He’d followed without saying anything, but you could tell he was somewhat confused—and you hoped that confusion would go away when you arrived at the bus stop just as it arrived.
Gunwook knew you better than that, though, shooting you multiple inquisitive looks for the duration of your bus ride. And, the moment you got off, he whistled a small tune, which was a clear sign that he was going to bring it up.
“So, what’s up?”
“What do you mean?” You feigned ignorance, hoping he’d get the message and leave it alone. He wouldn’t, though, and it was now a question of whether he meant today only, or why you’d been acting so strange over the past month or so.
“You’ve been acting weird for a while, [First]. Not all the time, just sometimes, and it has me worried. Did I do something? Or is there something you aren’t telling me?”
“I’m just on edge,” you lied, clearing your throat. “Exams are next month. I don’t like the idea that a single test could dictate the rest of my life, and the idea that, if I do poorly, I have to spend another year studying for it.”
“Are you sure that’s it? You seem fine every time we’re studying, and your grades are good. You don’t ask for nearly as much help as you did a few months ago either.”
“I promise. Things will go back to normal next month, I swear.”
“Okay.”
Great, you thought, kicking a rock on the sidewalk. He knew you were lying, and now you had one month to fix your ex-best-friend troubles before you had to face your issues. And, you had no idea how.
You kicked the rock again, and it flew out in the street, falling into a storm drain, never to be seen again.
ix. exams
Before today, you didn’t think your hands could hurt this bad. Nor did you think your brain could hurt this bad, either.
The moment you walked into Gunwook’s room, you drop everything you’re holding, face-planting into his bed. He laughed at you, and you could hear him neatly placing everything he was holding onto his desk.
“How can you unpack things right now?” you asked, mentally praising whoever created mattresses. “I feel like my brain is short-circuiting.”
“I’m good at school stuff, that’s why,” he replied. Outside, the rain that you’d dealt with walking to his house got worse, and you briefly considered the possibility that you wouldn’t be returning home tonight unless one of your parents were willing to drive to Gunwook’s house. “Do you want something else to wear? Other than your uniform.”
“Really?” you asked, hopping out of his bed. He nodded, opening his drawer and taking out a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants.
“They’ll probably be a little big,” he said, handing them to you. You waved him off, shaking your head.
“They’re not this god-awful uniform, so they’re winners in my book.”
You practically skipped out of his room and into the bathroom, changing into the pajamas he’d given you hastily. They were soft and smelled like the detergent his mom bought (which smelled exactly like you thought Gunwook would smell, back when you just had a delusional crush on him).
Before you went back to his room, you folded your uniform, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. You looked exhausted and you felt it too, overloaded from the hours of straight testing that you’d endured for the sole purpose of going to university. You were so tired you couldn’t even muster the strength to be worried about your test scores.
You shuffled back into Gunwook’s room, shutting the door behind you. He was already laying down, scrolling through his phone and wearing the black-and-white sweater he’d been so obsessed with recently. You put your uniform on top of your bag, which he’d moved to a chair in the corner of his room, before collapsing on top of him and forcing your hands around his waist.
The act caused him to laugh at you before ruffling your hair, kissing you atop the crown of your head. “I’m proud of you,” he said, and you felt his chest rumble as he talked. “I’m sure you did well.”
“Stop being sappy,” you replied, suddenly feeling a lot more tired than you had been. “But I’m proud of you too. I know you did well.”
He hummed, and you assumed he went back to scrolling through his phone, which you weren’t angry about. You had about five minutes before you fell asleep on him, and you were fine spending it in complete silence save for whatever random thought you had.
“Oh, did you see the Yuna-Jaechan reunion? It was, like, dramatic. He gave her some super expensive necklace or something.”
“I didn’t see it, but I heard about it. Junhyeon hasn’t shut up about it. He thinks it’s hilarious.”
“If we’d done the CSAT breakup, would you have bought me a super expensive necklace?”
“We wouldn’t have, but I would’ve bought you the most expensive necklace ever. With Gyuvin’s money.”
“Aw, how romantic.”
It went quiet again, and you felt yourself fading quickly. The rhythmic up-and-down of Gunwook’s chest paired with the rain pitter-pattering against the window was putting you to sleep with ease, to the point where you could barely keep your eyes open.
And then a bright flash and near-immediate thunder awoke you instantly, causing you to flinch hard. Gunwook laughed at you instantly, causing you to feel embarrassed.
“Oh, is someone afraid of thunder?”
“No,” you huffed, closing your eyes again. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Okay, whatever you say. But that jump was pretty intense. I almost thought you were convulsing, was scared that the test had killed you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Good night, [First]. Sleep well.”
Now aware that you were enduring a thunderstorm, the booming noise that came with the rain only added to your sleepiness. Within minutes, you were almost completely asleep, barely able to register when Gunwook laughed at something on his phone or shifted slightly.
“I love you,” he whispered, putting a single hand on your waist. With that, you were asleep and entirely dead to the world for the next few hours.
x. gossip
You didn’t like the way Youngeun was looking at you. She couldn’t keep secrets—it was obvious she knew something, but you couldn’t figure out what exactly she could know.
Yeseo, on the other hand, seemed completely fine, even if Youngeun kept giving her worried glances. She simply drank her juice, mixing her noodles around with seemingly no intent to actually eat them. It was silent at your table, the sun beating down on you as you sat outside the 7/11 you’d all agreed to go to after school that day.
“What is up with you two?” you finally asked, frustrated with whatever was happening. Youngeun winced and Yeseo put her drink down, balancing her chopsticks on top of her bowl of ramen. It was silent for a few moments, and you felt anxiety eating you up.
“There’s a rumor going around,” Youngeun blurted out, causing you to tilt your head. Yeseo crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.
“It’s not a big rumor. It’s small and contained, and it shouldn’t get much bigger, but we don’t want you to hear it from someone random, or to overhear it when you don’t mean to. We don’t think it’s true, but you deserve to know.”
“Okay, just tell me. I don’t need this huge build-up.”
“There’s a small group, and I mean small group, that think Yukyung and Gunwook are dating behind your back.”
You went quiet, feeling your heart drop into your stomach. Realistically, you knew it wasn’t true—from the way Gunwook talked to you to the way he looked at you, there was no possible way that this was true. The part of you that was borderline traumatized by her sudden switch up on you believed it in an instant, though.
“Do they have any proof?”
“Apparently, they see her talking to him a lot. I mean, she doesn’t hang out in your classroom often, ‘cause her new friends are in mine and Gunwook’s class. And, to be fair, they aren’t wrong, she does talk to him a lot, but he doesn’t like it. It wouldn’t shock me if she’s trying to get him to break up with you, but they’re not dating,” Youngeun said, suddenly sounding a lot angrier than she did before. “I’ve seen him shoot her down several times. But people take it the wrong way, I guess.”
“Long story short, don’t believe it, [First]. We both know it’s not true and if you start hearing it from other people, ignore it. Okay?”
Like the world was playing an awful, cruel joke on you, your phone started ringing, and one look confirmed your suspicions. You picked up, hearing Gunwook’s voice come through, clear as day. “Do you want to see a movie tomorrow?” he asked, skipping over the greeting. Intrusively, you thought, would he go with her, too? “I’ll pay. It’s a showing of a Ghibli movie that Yujin said was good.”
“Sure,” you said, feeling Youngeun’s and Yeseo’s eyes burning through you, as if to say don’t you dare overreact about this. “What time?”
You were going to overreact about it anyway, though. You couldn’t do this, at least not with Yukyung—or, at least the thought of her—breathing over your shoulder at every moment. She meant too much to you that your mind was racing through every single thought you’d had over the past few months.
She was your best friend, and you’re pretty sure that, before Gunwook came into the picture, you were in love with her. You spent hours upon hours with her, and now you spend hours looking through the old pictures that you refuse to delete. You’re stuck on her—not in love with her anymore, but yearning for a friendship you lost—and it’s getting in the way of your relationship, and your mind concludes that there’s one viable outcome.
And, now, you have an excuse to carry it out.
xi. her
You don’t have the time to knock on Gunwook’s door before he throws it open. He hugs you immediately, picking you up and spinning you around right there in his doorway, and, for a minute, your mind is clear of all the terrible things that you’ve been trapped with for the past month.
“We did it,” he cried out, putting you back down so he could see your face. “We did it! Oh my god, how could we not have done it? We were always going to get in.”
About twenty minutes ago, both you and Gunwook received an email from Seoul National University that you’d gotten in. After you’d cried for four hours over your good CSAT scores, you nearly passed out at this news, wondering in what world you had deserved this. And, among your caving-in mind over Gunwook and Yukyung, you’d immediately left your house and ran to Gunwook’s.
He cupped your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your lips in utter joy. You laughed, feeling immensely happy for the both of you.
You tripped over your feet as you walked into his house, kicking off your shoes and emerging into his living room. “I never thought this would happen,” you said, pacing around the room. Gunwook watched you from behind the couch, smiling. “I mean, for the last month, I’ve just—I haven’t caught a break. I’ve been miserable every waking moment and now I finally have something to be happy over. Can you believe that?”
You look at him, and you watch his smile drop. You backpedal over what you said, realizing that you’d let your little secret slip; since Youngeun and Yeseo had told you about the rumor, you’d done an excellent job at hiding your panic, acting like everything was fine when it wasn’t in the slightest.
“What do you mean you’ve been miserable?”
You stopped pacing, and the room went quiet. In an instant, you’d knocked the happiness out of the room and brought in everything you’d been avoiding. The breakup plan you’d thought of night after night flashed in your mind, along with Yeseo telling you that you were an idiot for even considering it.
“I don’t know where this came from,” he continued, his voice a bit tight. “But I was under the impression everything was okay. We took the test and you looked better—why wouldn’t you tell me you were miserable?”
You weren’t sure what to say. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt nauseated, no longer feeling the excitement of the college acceptance you’d yearned for since you were a kid. “It’s stupid,” you said, your voice small. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it.”
“I don’t know if you understand how that sounds to me,” he said, and you were getting the idea that he also had an issue that he hadn’t been talking about, either. “But we’ve spent a lot of time together over the last month, and you saying that you’ve been miserable the entire time sounds a lot like you saying you were miserable being with me.”
“What? No, that’s not what I meant.” You shook your head, feeling mortified at the idea. “I promise, that’s not it. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Then why won't you tell me? I don’t think I’m entitled to hear anything from you that you don’t want to talk about, but when it’s been torturing you for months, [First], I feel like I deserve to know. Especially since it seems like Youngeun and Yeseo haven’t gotten any of the side effects.”
You bit your lip, closing your eyes. “You know Yukyung was my best friend, right?” Even saying it aloud made tears bunch into your eyes. For the first time since nearly a year ago, now, you were facing something you hadn’t even talked about with your mom. “Like, best friend. We’ve been—we were friends from our first year of middle school. She was my everything. And she threw it all away over—over you, and it’s been hard for me to stomach it.”
Gunwook rolled up his sleeves, leaning on the couch. “That happened in March,” he said, almost sounding frustrated. You knew it wasn’t directed at you, rather, he was probably angry that Yukyung had any say in your relationship even though you’d never even spoken about her.
“It killed me, Gunwook. I didn’t sleep well for a week. I mean, she was telling people things I told her in middle school, running around and painting a picture of me that I didn’t know she had.” You felt exasperated, unsure of how to convey what you needed to without sharing a secret you’d never shared with anyone. “It was hard for me. Even though I was happy about us, I couldn’t get over losing her like that with no warning. And then, I saw her talking to you at the fair, and then Yeseo and Youngeun told me about the rumors, and—”
“Rumors?” he interjected, furrowing his eyebrows. “What rumors?”
“People think you’re cheating on me,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. That seemed to confuse Gunwook, as he looked down, staring at the couch rather than looking at you. “It’s just hard, okay? It’s hard.”
“And you couldn’t have told me you felt like this? It didn’t cross your mind, even for a second, to just be honest?”
“Well why didn’t you tell me that she’s been talking to you at every chance she gets?” you rebutted. That caused him to wince, and you watched him realize that he couldn’t say much, either. “It’s not like we’re both innocent, here. So let’s get it over with. Now.”
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Gunwook said, pushing off the couch and mirroring your stance. “Gyuvin brought it up during our second year before we knew each other. It didn’t cross my mind again until I saw you staring at her when I came in to give you your calculator back. And then—it’s been months and you haven’t said you loved me.”
Every muscle in your body tensed, and it, once again, occurred to you that you could never pull anything over on Gunwook.
“Are you in love with her?”
You gulped, your throat suddenly feeling drier than it ever had. “I was. A long time ago.”
It went silent again, and you wondered if he believed you. “I promise you it’s in the past. It was only during my first year and some of my second, but I got over it when she started dating Seungeon. And they lasted long enough for me to get over it, and we added Youngeun to the mix, so I was preoccupied. That’s in the past. But it doesn’t change that she threw out five years of our friendship without a second thought.”
He didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, beginning to pace back and forth. You let him think, hoping that your defense was sound enough that he wouldn’t break things off then and there.
“Do you love me, [First]?”
Two months ago, Yeseo had asked if you’d said “I love you” yet. You’d, embarrassingly, had to share that Gunwook had but you hadn’t, which perplexed both of them. And, when they asked why, all you’d been able to tell them was that the last person you’d said “I love you” to was Yukyung, the night before Youngeun called you, telling you everything she’d heard.
“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I do. I love you.”
Right in front of you, Gunwook burst into tears, walking straight past the couch and enveloping you in his arms. “I thought you were going to break up with me for so long,” he choked out, squeezing you so hard you could barely breathe. “I was terrified the entire time, and I thought things got better after the exams, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. I was so scared, [First]. I love you so much that I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
“I love you too,” you said, although it was muffled. “I promise. And I didn’t love her as much as I love you.”
xii. graduation
You were realizing that your claim that you didn’t cry often was quickly becoming a lie. You were sitting on the floor of your room, holding your diploma to your chest while tears streamed from your eyes. Gunwook was staring at you with a mixture of amusement and worry as you rocked yourself back and forth.
“Youngeun is leaving me,” you said, hiccuping. “Both of them are. For Japan. I’m going to have to make new friends.”
“But you’ll still be able to talk? They won’t even be in a different timezone.”
“Okay, and?” you said, hiccuping. “It’s so far. I won’t be able to go to 7/11 with them anymore.”
“We can go to 7/11?”
“That’s different, you’re my boyfriend. 7/11 is a commitment when it’s with you.”
“What does that even mean?”
You let out another Earth-shattering sob, and you supposed that convinced Gunwook to come over and attempt to comfort you. “There, there,” he said sarcastically. “Japan is very far. And you’ll have to pay more to call them. I’m sorry.”
“At least try to sound a little serious!”
“Neither Junhyeon nor Gyuvin got into SNU.”
“Okay, but they’re still in Korea, so you’ll be fine. There’s no train to Tokyo here.”
Gunwook wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leaning his head on yours. “It’ll be okay. They’ll be here over breaks and you’ll get to see them then, right? And you always have the—wait, why don’t you have a picture of us framed?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m serious,” he said, pointing to your dresser, which was right in front of you. On top were multiple framed pictures of the three of you, smiling, laughing, and doing other things. “What’s up with that? Am I less important than them?”
“Shut up.”
“No. I’m going to buy a disposable camera right now, and we’re going to take pictures so you can print and frame them.”
You rolled your eyes, wiping away your tears. “Okay. Whatever you say. Even though you’re my wallpaper, and you’re the only number pinned in my text messages, and you’re the only person who’s ever known the password to my phone.”
“You love me.”
“Not when you’re a greedy loser.”
“Aw, I love you, too.”
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thank you for reading !
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salty-croissants · 5 months
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this is extremely unnecessarily long, but if it's okay, can I request separate hcs for Bullfrog and Rayman (+ Ramon if it's cool) with a touch-starved, easily flustered and insecure yet passionate fem!reader (who can also REALLY kick ass or speak up when others have messed with the ones she loves) as their friend / s/o (who might or might not be on the spectrum, likes to rant or infodump a LOT about medias that she likes such as games, shows or horror media, who also loves drawing herself with the ones she loves and giving them small things randomly in a way to make them feel better, like snacks, drawings of them, or even something they thought of getting beforehand) ?
Thank you for the request ! 
Don’t worry , the length was okay ! Since it was very detailed it was fun to work with it :D 
Hope it turned out okay !
Details : use of female reader ;
established relationships ; 
no warnings needed , other than a bit of a suggestive line in Ramon’s part
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Bullfrog 💚
Bullfrog is a very loving boyfriend , so when you tell him you’re touch-starved he is going to make it his mission to shower you with affection all the time … 
And when I mean all the time , I’m being very serious :
as soon as you wake up , he’s going to cuddle you as long as he can ;
you’re both going somewhere , either a mission or just doing something outside ? He will be holding your hand the whole time ; 
you had a bad day or are feeling tired ? You better believe Bullfrog is going to be holding you in his arms the whole time to help you feel better …
Yeah , no force of nature is going to stop him from displaying his love for you , so … yep , better be ready ! 
If you ever feel insecure about yourself or your relationship , Bullfrog is quick to solve any of your doubts …
< I don’t know … what if you really would be better off with somebody else instead of - > 
< y/n , chérie , you’re the only one for me . 
Nobody else will ever able to make me feel this way , how could I possibly want to leave someone who is beautiful in every way ? > 
He is in love with all the drawings you make featuring the two of you together , and he holds onto each one of them very dearly … 
They have been made by his beloved just for him after all , so Bullfrog is going to cherish them forever .
He also carries some of them with him when he goes on very dangerous missions , keeping them carefully folded in his pocket : he really does think that having a symbol of your love for him by his side will bring him good luck .
As always , Bullfrog is always so happy to listen to you talking about all of your various interests , and it’s not rare for him to start getting into them thanks to you .
< Would it be okay to watch that series finale tonight ? It’s completely fine if you’re busy - > 
< Non , that would be wonderful mon amour ! We don’t have any more missions left , and besides I’m really curious to see what will happen after that cliffhanger ! > 
The way he supports your passion always brings a smile on your face … which is what Bullfrog strives for every day : to see you as happy as you can be ://) 
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Rayman 🧡
Since he is often very busy with his shows , Rayman can’t always be around to give you affection … but you can be sure that as soon as he comes home to you he will not be letting you go for hours .
< Oh y/n … I missed you so much , I’ve been looking forward to this all day … >
Those sweet little moments he gets to spend with you are more valuable to him than anything else , and Rayman loves to demonstrate it by showering you with kisses , enjoying your adorable reactions to them .
< Aw , you look so cute when you’re blushing honey ~ > 
< Pfft - stooop ~ > 
Indeed … if you’re someone that gets flustered easily you better prepare yourself , because this man will be complimenting you and every little thing you do at all times .
Rayman really just wants you to know that you’re the most important person in his life , the one who saved him from a life of loneliness … he really wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you were gone .
However , there are also ways to fluster him instead : 
for example if you ever were to stand up for him when somebody is being a douchebag about his species , Rayman will be completely head over heels for you …
< y/n , thank you for what you said back there …
It really meant a lot . > 
< No need to thank me , Ray ! I couldn’t just stand there and let that random guy say all that stuff about you … what kind of girlfriend would let that slide ? >
< Heh … you’re amazing sweetie .
 I love you so much ~ > 
Similarly to Bullfrog , Rayman definitely keeps all the drawings you make for him , hanging them in his office : no matter what anyone’s opinion is , the art made by his sweetheart will all stay right there on the walls , and that’s final . 
He will also be gushing about it to anyone who asks …
< Oh , that ? My beautiful y/n made it for me … isn’t she just so talented ? > 
Rayman remembers all of your interests in full detail , and sometimes he likes to surprise you by buying you gifts related to them , or even more …
< *gasp* oh my god - is that a ticket for that movie I really wanted to watch ? >
< It sure is ! Looks like the Directors haven’t scheduled anything for tomorrow , so I was thinking we could go watch it today … does that sound good ? > 
< It sounds perfect ! Thank you my love , thank you so much ! ~ > 
< It’s the least I could do for you , darling … I just want to see you smile , that’s all that matters to me . >
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Ramon 🖤
After everything that’s happened , Ramon has definitely become a lot more protective of you , which means he will be by your side pretty much all the time : 
holding you close to him and feeling your warmth calms him down , so if you’re touch starved it’s an absolute win .
… tough sometimes he might get a bit too attached .
< Ram , honey , I have to go to the bathroom … could you , you know … let me get up for a second ? > 
< Hmmpf … > 
< Pretty please ? ~ > 
< Okay okay … just … come back soon . > 
< I will , don’t worry . > 
Knowing how easy it is to make you flustered , Ramon is definitely going to have a fun time just sneaking behind you and start whispering sweet nothings in your ear , using that deep , raspy voice that he knows will make your whole face turn red …
< You look so pretty , y/n … sometimes I could just eat you up …
I might do just that , actually ~ >
The way you blush is just so cute … Ramon can’t help but want to see that lovely face of yours  every day .
Ramon likes to sit next to you while you draw , silently watching you and all the little expressions you make when you’re focused …
Every piece you make that features him will be kept somewhere safe , maybe something close to an album , so that he’ll be able to look at it whenever you’re away or if he’s not having the best day : seeing such a sincere display of your love for him never fails to bring him joy , and it makes him even more determined to keep you safe no matter what . 
While he likes to stay quiet when you discuss about your interest , Ramon is going to remember every little thing you tell him , and this gets demonstrated when the two of you are watching either a series or a movie you like .
< Hm , that’s the character we saw at the beginning , right ? The one that you mentioned we’d see yesterday ? > 
< Oh - you remember I told you that ? > 
< Mhm , I always remember everything say to me … I love listening to you . > 
< Hehe … thank you , Ramon … 
I love you ~ > 
< Love you too , y/n … and I’ll love you always ~ > 
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Text
The First Fairy Tale
ahdbalidbaidf I'M SUCH A SUCKER FOR UNREQUITED KNIGHT X PRINCESS STUFF (even if it's not clear whether or not Lilia's crush persisted beyond childhood in canon) SO. I'M WRITING THIS… 😭This fic is purposefully ambiguous about the type of love Lilia feels in the end for Meleanor. It’s up to the reader to interpret it as they please. This piece was inspired the story of Madame Red from Black Butler. You don't need to know either to enjoy, but if you do happen to know them then I think you'll appreciate it more. There’s also some references to a few Disney films besides Sleeping Beauty—can you find which ones? I also purposefully repeated some phrases and blended a few references together to give the fic a “dream-like”/deja vu feeling. There was going to be a wedding scene opening with “There wasn’t a cloud in the sky” in reference to We Don’t Talk About Bruno, but I had to cut that since the fic was getting long. Even without that and some other cut scenes, I think this is the longest fic I’ve written before. It’s almost 8k words!!
... Do you remember? I told my first fairy tale to you, my most beloved. ***Spoilers for book 7 part 5 of the main story!***
Imagine this...
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In a castle forgotten by time, a lone figure walked among the creeping thorns. The plants swallowed the grounds, yet he moved swiftly and stealthily, passing over briar as easily as water over stone. Not a single movement was wasted as he traversed the brambled floors.
His ponytail—black streaked with red—fell in his path, the slight whip of it the only trace of his presence. He had traded his battle armor of old for plainclothes long ago, but still hadn’t filled into them yet. To shed the life of a general for that of a civilian was no simple task.
The small, doughy creature pressed against his shoulder sleepily lifted its head. Upon the infant’s crown was a cap of shockingly silver hair, the same color as moonlight. The boy thrusted a pudgy hand into his cheek, delivering a soft pap to the hardened veteran.
“Tch…!” Lilia pulled away brusquely. “Troublesome little creature, aren’t you? Hold still. We’d have made it out of here by now if only you weren’t so…”
Weak, defenseless, frail, vulnerable.
An array of potential words rose to fill in the gap. He settled on the least abrasive one he could muster.
Something cute.
Children like cute, right…? Right.
“… squishy.”
The infant—no, Silver, he corrected himself—seemed curious about the response, staring up with sudden interest. Lilia’s skin prickled at the sensation. He averted his eyes to an interior that had seen better days.
Once a shining jewel to house the crown princess, Wild Rose Castle was abandoned now. The thorns had invaded, climbing the walls and digging themselves into every nook and crevice. Furniture and weapons devoured, flags and tapestries consumed, meeting a similar fate as the nation that had once proudly flew them.
Ruins entombing stolen time.
What had once been a palace teeming with history, with life, was left a barren wasteland. All that remained were shadows of the past which clung thickly to the thorns. One misstep, and they would cut into him, bringing both pain and searing hot memories.
Funny, that: how the natural forces were unrelenting and indiscriminate. Yet the trace of an enchantment in the air suggested otherwise, its telltale tingle palpable. He knew the bramble had come from magical means.
A fairy's spell lingered. Some bygone blessing or curse, told in the tattered remains of a hazy vision and a wish for more halcyon days. Parents wanting to spare their child from the horrors of war.
Lilia's grip on Silver subconsciously tightened.
What rotten luck. I return after all this time to pay my respects, only to find Wild Rose Castle in this sorry state. How the mighty fall.
Silver fidgeted in his arms, as if sensing that something was off. A bit of saliva dribbling from the corner of his mouth, a soft whine gurgling up.
“You’re fussing again already?” Lilia frowned. He awkwardly laid a hand on the infant’s back. Are all infants this incorrigible? "The journey will be a long one if you aren't able to settle."
The infant turned its head, his cheek fitting neatly into Lilia's palm. There was a coo, then a sigh of contentment.
Still shaking off the sleepiness.
"... You're so needy," Lilia grumbled, noting the drool wetting his skin. Silver blinked at him with large, iridescent orbs. "I don't understand. Do people actually find this endearing? To find such joy in raising their young is..."
He hesitated to finish his sentence.
What did a man like him have to say on the matter? Long-lived as he was, that kind of love was something he had ever experienced for himself.
A gentle, warm hand to guide him through the darkness. The love of a parent.
Yet here I am, a loveless fae robbing a baby from its cradle. Just as the humans believe we do.
What irony.
Sadness nipped at Lilia as his thoughts turned to Silver. If anything, the little one had more power to shape the world around it than he ever could.
It was for this sort of creature that the Dawn Knight made a prayer for the future. It was for this sort of creature that Baul's rigid heart shifted. It was for this sort of creature that she...!!
Lilia's fingers had clenched into a vice grip on Silver. The infant cried out, squirming uncomfortably in his new guardian's grasp.
"Shoot...!! Er... there, there. It will be alright."
He clumsily rocked the baby back and forth. It was too vigorous, for Silver bursted into tears. His wails echoed off the desolate walls of the castle, piercing loud in Lilia's ears.
The fae jerked back, holding Silver at a safe distance from him. His grasp, precarious.
This is proving to be much more challenging than I initially thought... H-How do I silence it?!
Lilia glanced around helplessly at his surroundings. Everything was encased in a cage of thorns: antiques, drapes, even the axes mounted for decoration—to liven up the room. They were impossible for him to reach, else he could swing them around to amuse the boy.
Pieces of the past far out of his reach.
It’s not an option. A human babe is not like a fae babe. Lilia’s head swarmed with stress, Silver’s sobs only multiplying his worries. What do I do? What… would she do?
Meleanor…
The name of his princess emerged. Along with it, a scene blossoming in sepia shades.
Her, in a regal black gown and dripping in green gemstones and finery. Him, in a general's armor. A princess and her knight, straight out of a fairy tale.
She was humming while caressing a large egg, a marbled violet flecked with green, dark webbing laced the shell. It conformed perfectly to her chest, pulsating with a strange warmth as she ran taloned fingers over it. Another role she had adopted: mother.
A low chuckle rose from the back of her throat. "Fufufu Look, Malleus. Our dear Lilia has taken the time out of his busy schedule to come pay us a visit."
"It's been quite some time since I last heard you giggle like a schoolgirl. Nice to know that you remain in good spirits." He arched an eyebrow. "... But since when did you decide to name the child? I thought the medical mages hadn't even determined a gender for your heir yet."
"Oh, some time ago," she replied flippantly. Meleanor was always like a storm, unpredictable and acting on her own whims. "I don't need anyone to tell me what my child will be. I already know... my Malleus will grow up to be an upstanding, beautiful man just like my Levan."
She had a dreamy, faraway look on her face. A slight blush to her high cheeks, a shine to her eyes, a kind smile at her lips. Completely unlike her, the tomboy who snuck out of the castle unsupervised and caused trouble for all the servants.
So utterly smitten.
For that moment and that moment alone, Lilia would have believed her a patient princess awaiting a knight in shining armor's rescue. Not him, but her beloved.
Levan.
He had to bite back a terse laugh, mask it with a joke. "Your Levan? Hold on now, you've got to share him with the rest of us. We'd simply crumble without his wisdom."
"I don't intend to share what's rightfully mine.” A teasing smirk he knew well had found its way onto her pert mouth again. “I'm a very possessive woman.”
"As I’m well aware. Alas, I serve such a cruel mistress of evil.”
She chuckled, resting a hand on her egg. "... When Levan returns, we shall arrange for tea. The two of you can regale me with the stories of your journeys. It gets to be so dull trapped in these castle walls. Oh, and of course, Malleus will be joining us. He has yet to experience our cozy little get-togethers.”
Their group. Their trio. The three of them. And now a new member. An expansion of the family unit—no, rather, the realization that something didn’t belong among them.
His heartbeat quickened.
"There you go again, making rash requests of me. You really ought to be more considerate of others. I came all this way out of the goodness of my heart, only for you to bark more orders at me. Don't I get to take a break?"
"I am being considerate," she insisted. "I'm considering Malleus. He is invited. You cannot uninvite him."
"That's not the point. Agh, what am I going to do with you?" Lilia ran a hand through his hair. The frustration was familiar—but so was the fondness that chased it.
“My, my. Such insolence. I’m afraid you’ll be stuck with me for a long, looong time. You should be less stubborn and more kind to your princess,” she purred, her words touched with dry sarcasm. “Isn’t that right, Malleus?”
“I’m too kind to you. Too patient as well,” Lilia sighed. “… It’s you who is headstrong.”
“I must be. I have a country and now a family behind me. A scorned mother’s rage is insurmountable, you know.”
He should have said something back. Played into their usual banter. But he didn’t—couldn’t bring himself to. Lilia looked away quickly, but not quite quickly enough.
“Oh? What nerve you have to avoid the gaze of your princess.” She dropped her playful tone. “Something weighs heavy on your mind.”
“… I can never hide anything from you, can I?”
“You will inform me at once.”
“So you can obliterate what ails me?”
“So that I may put you at ease." She lifted a hand, gesturing toward him. "That is the duty of a queen to her people… and, more importantly, of a friend to another."
Friend.
It stung right down to his bones, hurting more than a blast of righteous lightning. A reminder of what he was: a footnote, a supporting cast member in her grand story. Without that, he was nothing.
An outcast.
His stomach clenched. He forced down a bitter pill and spoke.
"I was just wondering what it must feel like to be in your position, Meleanor-sama," Lilia whispered. "Mother to a nation, and to a child. To wholly devote oneself to the service of others... I will never know what that is like."
At this, she laughed darkly. "I am strong. I have to be, because I have people to protect. You have that strength as well. You wouldn't be able to serve as one of my generals without it. There are just some things in this world worth risking your life for, hmm?"
"I don't understand. My loyalty will always lie with you, with Briar Country... but for a child, I cannot...!!" Lilia stopped himself, reining his emotions back to calm. "I've never known how that kind of love feels. I'm not capable of it."
Meleanor narrowed her eyes as she listened to his woes. Unwise men would think her contemplative. He knew better—she was scheming.
"... Let me tell you a secret, Lilia," she said at last. "A dragon's egg needs its parents' love to hatch. However, true love is a special spell. It's more powerful than any magic, and able to be cast by anyone. If you are able to protect me, then that alone is proof enough that you are capable of 'true love'."
"You make it sound so simple, but is it really like that? The children of man say that fae cannot tell an untruth, yet you so expertly reassure me with lies."
"You're questioning me? Laughable. I am a woman of my honor, unlike you with all your tall tales."
"They're not tall tales. They're real stories of the danger I was in. Danger that, mind you, I got in half the time on behalf of your demands."
"Is that so?" Meleanor had smiled at him then, her teeth gleaming in the dim candlelight. Long lashes fluttering against the emeralds of her eyes. "Then you wouldn't mind sharing a story or two with Malleus."
Lilia bristled at the thought, an old wound reopened. There was a burst of relief that accompanied the dull pain.
I can't sing her lullabies. I don't have her strength either. No partner to speak of, no family to look to. What I do have is...
He pressed Silver into him, keeping a hand rested reassuringly on the infant's upper back. Muffled cries and a warm wetness pooled on Lilia's shoulder. His steps slowed, coming to a steady pace.
The first words were the most difficult to get out.
"... Once upon a time, there was a princess living in this castle." His voice was slow and deep and sorrowful. Not a song, but a longing croon for days he could never return to.
They entered a corridor lined with paintings. The sound of Silver's sobbing funneled into the passage, a greeting to the dour faces of important officials portrayed in each frame. Horned, with raven hair and reptilian eyes, obsidian scales dotting their skin, milky and smooth as wax.
Lilia lowered his head to one as they passed--a woman upon a throne, scepter in hand, her pointed features dappled by moonlight.
"She was many things. Selfish, impetuous, and stubborn… but also brave, strong, and beautiful."
So beautiful.
That had been his first impression of her. A single pale rose amid a garden of thorns.
She was tiny in those days, still trotting about in small, polished heels that clicked with each step, her black dress swishing about. A scaled tail—fluffy at the end--poked out from under there, proof of dragonic heritage. Her long hair was slicked back, proudly displaying a pair of horns and the scales that crowned her forehead.
When she wailed, the skies turned stormy. When she beamed, the sun came out. Her expressions so lively as she spun around in her skirts, the fabric unfurling like the petals of a blossoming flower.
A princess both adored and feared by her people.
"She befriended an unruly ragamuffin.” Lilia's lips quirked, unable to fight them from tugging up. “He was without loved ones, so the princess extended a hand to him."
Lilia had stolen glances at her when he was convinced she was distracted. During royal processions, tending to the horses, when they crossed paths in the halls.
He never let himself stare for too long. To do so was nearly a death sentence. The guards would be upon him in an instant—or worse, she would.
But without doubt, she did.
She would look back, letting a telltale grin take shape when their gazes met.
Him, the nobody picked up by the royal family on a whim. A hopeless squire boy, a knight-in-training, a ward.
Him.
She noticed him.
Picking up her skirts, she'd made a beeline over. Grinning like a gremlin, she would inevitably set a tragedy into motion.
"Lilia, I'm sick of studying! Let's play instead."
"What? I don't want to. Besides, I have training to tend to."
"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport. That's an order from your princess, so you can't refuse!"
“And that's the way the story always goes, a princess and her knight." He passed a glance at Silver. The infant's crying had quieted, and he returned the look, eyes wet with wonder.
Lilia sighed. "... I guess you wouldn't know that, would you? Well, it’s not as though she were your average girl.
"A wicked princess, that’s what she was. There was not a day when she wasn't making mischief and pulling the knight into it with her."
She had had many games, not all of them clearly defined or with rules. Sometimes she changed them on the fly. Sometimes she played without guidelines at all.
Pretend escalated into full-scale magical duels. Scavenger hunts spanned the entire castle grounds. They’d race to see who could relieve the gallery of the most apples in the least amount of time, dig through the treasury for the biggest gems.
On particularly lazy days, a roll across the lawn was enough to amuse them. Petals were plucked, sugary honeysuckle trapped between their teeth.
"You have something stuck in your hair," she'd tease him, picking loose petals out. "Let me get that for you, my most loyal retainer."
He'd hold still, as commanded, let her take as long as she wanted tidying him up.
When the guards combed the garden for them, they’d squish into shrubbery and lay low until the coast was clear. Sometimes their lids would grow heavy and collapse—and when they roused, stars had spilled into the sky, and they’d count constellations until the morning.
Starlight dappling her noble face, her fiery spirit ablaze.
How many diplomatic meetings had they crashed? How many ancient items had they broken? How many headaches had they collectively caused?
Lilia chuckled faintly.
… Those were the good old days.
He continued down the path laid before him, the paintings seemingly chugging along in slow succession. Both people and time passing him by.
"There was another as well. A clever, kind-hearted duke who also warmed up to the knight. The three of them formed a most formidable group.”
“Are you two at it again? You never stop, do you?”
The voice came from the top of the stairwell.
"Levan. So good of you to join us," Meleanor said breathlessly—she had been running about. She slicked back a strand of glossy raven hair and beamed toothily. It wasn't the smile of a princess, but of a dragon yet to be tamed.
He quirked a brow. "Am I joining you? Whoever said that?"
“If you’re jealous, no need to play coy," she teased as the Dragon Duke descended the stairs. "You’re welcome to join us anytime.”
"The princess has already roped me into her antics," Lilia sighed. "Why not make it a party of three? We can all get scolded together later. Misery loves company."
"A tempting offer." Levan lazily tilted his head to one side. He always had a languid way of moving, like a curtain of night veiling the day. "I think you've got me convinced."
"Why did you agree when Lilia asked and not when your princess did?" Meleanor demanded, stomping a foot.
Levan shrugged. Effortless, defiant. "Perhaps you're not as charming as you think you are."
Any other person would have faced her wrath. Anyone else would have been forced to tango with lightning.
Not Levan. He was too hard to stay mad at, and too easy to forgive. His presence alone smoothed over tensions, settled storms.
“He’s a dreamer,” the dusty old court advisors would remark with disdain.
“He’s a dreamer,” Lilia would say, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“He’s a dreamer,” Meleanor would sigh, the stars in her eyes.
Now, she just smirked at him. "I'll have to demonstrate to you just how charming I can be."
She had looked at Levan differently in that instant. Her eyes did not glint at the sight of new prey to toy with, but with keen interest. There was something else too, an undercurrent of some tender feeling Lilia couldn't quite place.
Meleanor had never looked at Lilia like that.
Only Levan.
He shook his head.
I should have known then... I was fighting a losing battle.
"With time, they grew ever closer. Unexpected feelings arose. The knight came to love the princess.” Lilia's feet came down upon the bramble that knitted over the floor. He could not feel it through his boots, but it felt as though he was still being pierced in the chest.
Silver blinked as Lilia plodded along. The gentle rise and fall drying his tears.
It had been a heady spring day, another escapade dodging servants and sneaking beyond the gardens. The flowers had blossomed, the same as the princess. She had grown lovelier by the day, her spitfire attitude untempered.
His flower of evil.
They were crossing a brook then, Meleanor lifting up her skirts to float to the other side, Lilia hopping on rocks to cross. He could have flown with her if he tried, but he was feeling cocky, had wanted to shown off the fruits of his training.
One misstep, and Lilia went flying forward, crashing into her. Their bodies collapsed against one another's as they roll, roll, rolled into a field, blades of grass and stray petals collecting on them. When they at last came to a stop, they laid on their lacks and laughed until their lungs hurt.
Lilia had stared at her again. Her smile, a powerful spell. She caught him in the act, demanded what he was looking at.
"You have something stuck in your hair," Lilia told her as they sat up. "Let me get that for you, my most benevolent princess."
"Stop stealing my lines," she giggled back.
Only if you stop stealing my heart first, he thought. But Meleanor was selfish, and once she had claimed something as her own, she refused to return her new treasure.
Lilia reached--and produced a single white daisy between his fingers. Kneeling, he offered the token to her. "Here. For you."
"Prankster. You planted that so you could appear impressive," Meleanor chuckled, accepting it. "... However, the gesture is sweet, so I thank you for it."
She held the flower to her nose and inhaled its scent. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, lips brushing the velvet-soft petals of the daisy. Wind weaving its hands through jet back hair, spots of sunshine dancing across her.
The entire universe was conspiring against him, it seemed.
He remained kneeling, remembering his place. Him, the knight. Her, the princess. But if that was the case, then weren't they perfectly suited for a fairy tale?
Lilia steeled his courage and let the words he had been holding in all that time loose. "M-Meleanor-sama! I... I like you. Not just as a friend. More than that. P-Please accept my feelings!"
Rare surprise dashed her beauty. A crack of light, dawn chasing away the darkness. “Lilia...?"
Here was his weakness, more terrifying than any enemy their country had faced. One young lady, and he folded like a paper crane. His heart in her hands.
And she squeezed.
"I'm not sure if I enjoy this joke. What we had before... I liked that."
More delicate than he had ever heard her speak. Like she was afraid of breaking this.
"This isn't a joke. I'm... I'm serious about you! Please answer me!!" he pleaded. "Will you be mine?"
At once, her face fell. The daisy, and his heart, slipped from her grasp.
"Oh, Lilia," she whispered, a hand clamped over her mouth. "I'm sorry. So, so, sorry."
A resounding rejection, chased by a dreadful loneliness. It had been nothing like the storybooks had promised. Lilia almost wanted to weep at his juvenile naivete.
He hushed, the awareness of it all consuming him.
So this is love.
Love, and the lack of it. How it hurt him so, as it had from had the start. He was always alone, no matter how many people he surrounded himself with.
Was that really love then?
The thought struck him like a fist to the gut.
I thought I loved you. But maybe that wasn’t true love. Maybe I was desperate to be loved back. To have someone to call my own, when I had no one at all before. Maybe I clung to the first person that showed the slightest bit of attention to me.
Even so, my heart ached for you. Longed for you. Believed it was meant to be. Dreamt of you. I wanted to give you my everything.
Lilia tucked the infant’s cheek to his chest. Felt the child’s warmth, his physical presence. The steady drum of something buried deep in him.
There was a wobbly yawn in the silence. Silver, tuckered out from crying, awaited the next part of the story.
The breath Lilia held released. The words, painful as they dropped from his lips.
“But she had eyes for another: the duke. The knight watched as his two best friends fell in love.” Lilia’s nails dug into the cloth that swaddled Silver. “The princess and the duke were happy, so the knight, too, was happy. And why wouldn’t he be? The woman he loved the most was going to marry the man he loved the most. It was a happy ending for the trio."
He had been summoned by the princess that fateful day. Returning triumphant from the battlefield, adrenaline running high, he hadn’t even bothered to make himself presentable first. His hair was a mess, his armor stained with the remains of slain foes.
She waited for him beyond the door.
“Melea… Oh.”
His princess was seated beside Levan. She clung to his arm like a vine on a trellis, beaming like the moon on a cloudless night. Meleanor was drunk on the Dragon Duke.
He had never seen her so happy.
“Lilia! You’re here at last,” she called, waving him over. “Just in time.”
He glanced from her to Levan. “In time for what?”
“For our exciting announcement.” Meleanor wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she gazed adoringly at the man beside her. Somewhat shy. “Would you like to tell him? Or should I? Ooh, this is quite exciting."
Levan smiled softly—but Lilia could sense the slight discomfort in his eyes, the way they darted to his. Guilty acknowledgement, an awareness of betrayal.
I'm sorry, he seemed to say.
Lilia’s blood ran cold.
“I think you ought to tell him,” Levan suggested. His voice was gentle, but they felt like a slash to the throat, cutting deep.
Then Meleanor announced it, unable to contain the secret any longer. "We're getting married!!"
She showed her left hand. The flash of the silver band upon her fourth finger was unmistakable. A ring, binding them with a promise.
Together forever, those two.
Lilia’s world violently tilted. The castle crumbling, the sky collapsing around him. Yet he, the trained soldier, dug his feet in and stood his ground.
You've been bested. Admit it. Admit defeat...!!
He said the only word he could.
"Congratulations."
Lilia could make out the light at the other end of the tunnel now. The world beyond the walls and castle corridors. He knew the end of the story was fast approaching, and how it would sap his strength, his will to fight on.
Still, he continued.
“The new couple were soon expecting a baby. Someone much like yourself.” Lilia prodded at Silver’s flabby chin. “You’ll be graced with his presence soon enough. The princess’s legacy, Malleus Draconia… My responsibility these past 160 years.”
Silver gurgled.
“So enthusiastic. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” Lilia softly chided. “We fae and humans…”
… can never hope to understand each other.
"We fae and humans can understand each other," Levan would have countered him. "We can make it a reality."
Tiny hands wrapped around Lilia’s finger. His touch, fragile.
You can afford to be hopeful. It drew a bitter chuckle from his handler. Brief reprieve before the plummet into something deeper and darker than the night that guarded them.
“… In a period of great unrest, the duke went missing. The princess was beside herself with worry—yet she remained stalwart for her people, and for their child. She wished every night for her husband to come home safely.”
They had magical might, but the humans had numbers. Each battle, an exchange of hard blows, casualties high on both sides. Reports rolled in as frequently as bodies did.
The people grew concerned, and so she had donned her mask to reassure them. Stoney faced and strong atop her tower.
“We will recover the missing couriers. We will secure our land and resources. We will beat back the outsiders. Briar Country will rise victorious in the war. Man will rue the day they came upon our shores. This, I swear to you as your princess!!”
Uproarious cheering and applause for her, their sovereign. A goddess of victory.
But he, watching from the shadows, knew better than that. All those years roughhousing with her, and he knew.
The face she showed the public and the face she made in private were two sides of the same card. Princess, mother, wife, friend. So many roles, all of them she played with such strength.
Meleanor only slipped when she thought no eyes were on her. When the servants had all retired for the night, and the moon and its stars came out.
Pressing his back to the wall, Lilia shielded his candle’s small circle of light from view. The hallway was drenched in darkness again.
A few paces away, her chambers to which she retreated every evening with her egg. With her dear little Malleus.
He listened.
Soft whimpers sounded from the abyss. Sounds and sights she would not dare show her people.
A leader such as she could not afford to be weak. The same leader who clutched her child to her and furiously prayed for a happy ending.
“Levan, where are you? Come home… Come home, you idiotic, idealistic man!!”
CRASH!! BANG!! BOOM!!
Lightning lit up the sky. Lilia's flame trembled before righting itself.
Her voice dropped to a devious coo. "... I'm sorry, Malleus. Did that scare you? There, there. It's alright, your mother is here. Your father will be too... and when he does, I shall give him an earful for being away for so long!!"
He listened, for he was the only one who could. He listened until his lids began to droops. He listened until he had to tear himself away.
Before he knocked upon her door. Before he could tell her he was here, to please let him in. Before he could confess, “I miss him too.”
Hold her. Cry with her. Dream with her.
Ask for Levan back.
“I will never wish for anything more than this. Please. Please…!!”
He had listened then, but no one had listened to him in return. Not even the stars.
Cruel celestial beings, he cursed—if they would not grant his wish, then he would take matters into his own hands.
Levan…!!
Lilia swallowed thickly. His footfalls had grown heavy, as if weighed down by cinder blocks.
Silver sleepily gummed his finger. Oblivious as to what was to come.
“The conflict escalated.”
It had all happened so fast. Flying by, a blur. Time was not a concern to most fae—a year was barely the blink of an eye. Everything blending together into an indiscernible mush, taken down with ease.
But war never became more palatable. He had simply trained to become numb to it all. The strong smell of iron, the corpses piled high. It was sensory overload, the taste of too many things at once.
A crimson-eyed demon stood at the boundary of a burning village. Inhaled the fumes, smoke and flesh wrapped in fire. Witnessed the leaping flames stretching to the sky.
Who had lived here? Who had died here? Lilia thought of neither.
Had to, or he would fall to his knees and wail.
He held a small cloth doll, long black hair and red dress. Somehow it had survived the carnage. The lone survivor of a massacre. The rest had been slaughtered or evacuated from the area.
Abandoned, just as he had been.
His gaze lidded, fingers closing around the doll. "… As if it were a day. Everywhere I go, it will be in a blink of an eye. Far Cry Cradle.”
Memories arose, pulled by the strings of magic. They exploded across his vision like fireworks. Tinted green and blue and pink.
There was a ghostly child walking among the ruins, smiling as they clung to their mother, doll in their other hand. Daily life making the rounds in the village, helping with chores and playing games. Story events on fast forward.
Then came the knights stomping in their silver suits, masked fae cloaked in black. Buildings caving in, bodies falling, the clang of weapons colliding.
Screams.
Red, red, so much red.
The child horrified, dropping the doll. Staggering steps backward.
He barely cast an eye at them. Surveying the scene straight out of a hellish dream, he sought out a familiar shadow. Had he walked among them, seen the same things he had?
To no avail.
Lilia blinked, and it was the end.
He had not treaded along this path.
“… Damn it, Levan.” He gripped the doll harder—as if to squeeze out its secrets. Making me hunt you down like this...
“General Vanrouge.”
Lilia did not turn. “Baul.”
“Sir.” He saluted to his superior. “The troops are rested. We are prepared for the final march to the Eastern Fortress.”
“… Yes, I understand. Let’s move out.”
He let the doll fall to the ground. His hands now freed, he pulled his hood up.
“General?” Baul called tentatively.
“The weather is chilly today, don’t you think?” The question, dismissive. Lilia slipped his mask back on—a beastly bat, glaring, teeth protruding.
His tears hidden from view.
Baul nodded. “… Yes, it is. I will remind the men to bundle up, sir.”
He looked away. “Good.”
Lilia firmly set his jaw. “War came knocking at their door, claiming many lives… and threatening to take the princess and her child too.”
There was something automatically off about the fortress when they slipped in. The infiltration too smooth, the corridors too quiet.
Combing the building yielded few results. There was no Levan, no Dawn Knight. Only cowering staff and scattered humans in iron armor piloting sputtering metal monstrosities.
He cut them down the same as the rest. A mad boar, seeking a true challenge.
"Where are you?! Show yourself...!!" Lilia's demands were hollow in the empty hallways.
A demon snarling for sacrifice, the humans called him. A heartbroken dreamer, seeking the love that he had lost, his troops would whisper amongst themselves.
They found him at the end of a trail of carnage. Panting, sweating, hoarse. The lines between man and monster converged in Lilia Vanrouge.
Then the message was delivered, striking fear into the fearless fae.
"... What?"
The weapon in his hand faltered as realization ripped through him.
“Wild Rose Castle is under siege?!”
"She summoned her knight to her side.” Lilia’s voice quivered, growing small. You’re weak, he snarled at himself, so very, very weak.
Silver, too, seemed to sense the shift in him. He rubbed his cheek against the fae’s finger. Was he trying to comfort himself, or his newfound caretaker?
“The princess asked of him to take her child to safety somewhere far, far away. To forget her. It was her final selfish request for him.”
He had found her seated upon her throne, one arm curled around her precious egg, the other grasping her scepter. It was a sight so familiar, so safe, his chest lifted with relief. Lilia ran to her, calling her name.
"Meleanor-sama!!"
Her arm swept out in an arc, face twisted with fury. On command, a bolt of lightning crashed down in his path.
"Tch...!"
Tucking and rolling, Lilia darted off to the side, narrowly dodging the strike. Where he had once been was a massive scorch mark on the tiled floor.
“You’re LATE, Lilia!!” Meleanor roared. "What if something had happened to me or Malleus before you had arrived?!"
"Hah. As though you would allow that to happen," he scoffed. "You would kill the Silver Owls dead if I weren't here to stop you."
It was their usual game, a playful chase, the exchange of pokes and prods. Today, Meleanor had no such humor. Her expression turned from rage to one of eerie calm.
Lilia shivered.
"They've come for us," she whispered, hugging her egg tightly.
They had always known this day was a possibility. Now it was here, so palpable it was unreal.
From the bridge that ran to the castle came ugly chants twisted with hatred. Hot, oppressive, heavy. The sound like smoke snuffing out the daylight.
“Kill the witch!”
“Seize the castle!”
“Bring me the spoils!”
Horror raced through him.
“Let’s get you to safety, princess. Quickly, before they breach the drawbridge. My men can only hold them off for so long—”
She rose from her throne, descending from her dais. Her stride was not urgent, not eager to flee—the pace closer to the kind one might set for a garden stroll.
Meleanor faced her knight with a small smile. The same one she offered right before suggesting some sort of mischief.
“Lilia.”
“Princess…?”
“I refuse to run.” Her eyes flickered like green fire. “I will stand and fight.”
Panic pulsed in his ears.
“What?! Of all the foolish, hard-headed decisions you’ve made… This is absolutely the most foolish and the most hard-headed one!! I won’t let you go out there. I can’t. You’ll be…!”
A fist closed around his throat. The word died there, half-formed.
“What is it that you wish to say? That I will be hurt? Killed?” Meleanor challenged. So steadfast, so brazen. “You think so little of your princess.”
“This is NOT the time to argue the technicalities!! We need you safe and well, Meleanor-sama. Think of your people! Think of Levan, your child...!"
Think of me.
She bared her teeth. “What is my power for, if not to protect those I love?”
Her gaze lowered to her egg, then to Lilia. “... You must flee to Black Scale Castle. They will not be able to follow you that deep into the mountain range.”
"I won’t abandon you. If you will stay, then let me fight alongside you as your sword and shield!"
"You have already done plenty for me. Do not mean to play the role of martyr too." Meleanor straightened, looking the part of a regal ruler. “You must go. I have guests to receive.”
"Argh, you stubborn princess!! How will you fight by yourself when you have your child to consider?"
"That," she laughed softly, "is a simple riddle."
His eyes sharpened with recognition of her next scheme. Meleanor wordlessly deposited the egg into Lilia’s arms. It was warm, humming from within the shell.
A life yet to be born, wishes yet to come true.
“I am entrusting you with Malleus,” she murmured sadly. “Please take care of him in his parents' absence."
“Don’t speak that way!!" Lilia snapped.
Don't speak as though we will never meet again, as though this is the final page of our story.
“In the first place, I could never… I can’t raise this child. I don’t know what it is like to love—not the way you and Levan do. I’ve never had parents. I can’t be one, not when I don’t understand that kind of love!”
Meleanor’s face softened. “But you love me, don’t you? And you love Levan too.”
He nodded. Slow, hesitant. “We were young. It was a long time ago,” Lilia mumbled.
“You love us,” she grinned, “so surely you are capable of loving our child, the product of our love—and Malleus will feel that. He will respond to you.”
“I’m not…”
“You are deserving of love, Lilia.” This, Meleanor spoke firmly. “Do not let yourself believe otherwise. I shall never forgive you if you do.”
The shouts were growing louder. The castle shuddered, stopped, and shuddered again. Doors being rammed at, forced open.
“Go,” Meleanor hisses. “This is an order from your princess. You cannot refuse.”
She had told that to him many times before. In dreams, in their games. Now, it hurt to hear more than any blow he had taken from battle.
Something in him gave, and instead of stepping away, he stepped forward. Inching closer to the woman out of his reach, but never touching her.
“I’m scared,” Lilia confessed, quiet as snowfall. “What if I lose you like we lost Levan?”
Then I will be alone again.
“Be not afraid,” she reassured him. Meleanor did not meet him in the eyes.
“Do you promise we will meet again?” he pressed. The egg felt as molten as magma against his armor. “Do you swear?”
BAM!!
The grounds shook—the Silver Owls had successfully taken down a set of barricaded doors.
The cries had reached a fever pitch. Boots trampling upon the sacred grounds. Louder than ever.
Meleanor’s expression darkened, turning grave. It was the look of men at midnight, alone in the woods. Hollow, haunted, unsure of their fate.
No.
“No…!!”
He launched himself at his princess, a hand outstretched for hers. She made no effort to reach for his.
Did not have to.
Lilia fell short, his foot snagging on something. He instinctively twisted his body, shielding the egg in his arms from the floor. His gaze tore to his ankle, where bramble has sprouted up and tangled itself with him.
More thorns crept up around him, swallowing the ceiling, the walls. They latched onto his limbs, dragging him away, away from her. He grunted, struggling against them, against his fate.
Her doing, her magic.
"... Farewell, Lilia."
Tears prickled. His voice raised, pleading with her.
"Meleanor-sama, don't do this.”
She walked past him and ahead, forever out of his grasp.
"Farewell, Malleus."
He tried again, even knowing it was futile.
The bramble was weaving together, forming a tough wall between him and her.
"Meleanor-sama...!"
Through the last opening, a perfect circular window, she uttered her final words to him. That knowing, daring grin. Eyes beholding a gleam brighter than starlight.
"May the Night bless you."
And then she was lost to him forever.
"MELEANOR!!!"
Lilia laid a hand upon the ajar doors to the fallen castle. Fingers curled. At last, he had made it to the frame separating the inside from out.
“... That was the last time the princess was ever heard of. The end to her tragedy.”
He summoned his strength and broke free, entering the waiting night.
The moon, a spotlight for the two.
Silver bristled as he felt his first cool breeze. Still, he did not fully burrow into his blanket—for his glimpse of the stars stilled that instinct. That's right, Lilia thought, of course he would be enchanted. It's his first sky.
Many firsts.
"If you like that, you'll be excited to know that it's always changing. There are a number of new skies to see. It follows us wherever we go."
So we will never be alone.
The sky, so sprawling, so grand. So accustomed to everything and anything.
His small, lonely, insignificant existence was nothing compared to it.
Ah.
A single tear rolled down his cheek, landing on Silver's nose. The infant stilled, feeling the wetness upon his skin.
Lilia furiously wiped it away, then rubbed at his traitorous eyes. The sadness failed to recede, the memories welling. Promises, hopes, dreams dredged up. Yesterdays calling out to him.
"... You lied, Meleanor,” Lilia rasped into the night. “You told me I would be stuck with you for a long time. So why… Why did you have to leave us so soon?”
A thousand swords stabbed into his chest. The pain radiated outward, a bloody bloom.
"It’s not fair," he sobbed, hanging his head. "It’s not fair at all. Meleanor, Levan… You’ve gone off together to a place I cannot reach, a place I cannot run to. You’ve left me behind. How am I meant to go on like this?”
I'm scared. I’m scared of the dawn and the tomorrows it will bring. Tomorrows without her and him in them. Tomorrows I must face alone.
More tears, plip, plip. A light drizzle upon Silver's face.
The infant stared up through aurora eyes. Not understanding, not knowing anything.
"How could I...”
Lilia’s voice caught on something sharp. He took a trembling gulp.
How could I learn to love you? When your kind, your very father, has taken nearly everything from me?
"... Hey, Silver."
The child cooed, as if in recognition of his own name. More likely, just responding to the sound of Lilia's voice.
Silver, the color of his hair. Silver, the shine of cloud linings. Silver, the start of something new.
"Tell me. What should I do?" Lilia's forehead and his touched.
Silver kicked his bendy little legs at the contact. Flailed his arms.
“Please guide me. I’m lost." He choked up. "I’m… so lost.”
Be the moonlight that guides me in the darkness. When all hope is lost and the stars have gone out, there will always be a silver light illuminating the path out of the black forest.
Show me the way, Silver.
“Show me if I can truly love you from the bottom of my heart.”
Lilia hugged the child to him. Felt his heartbeat, the same throbbing warmth that had radiated from Malleus’s egg.
After all that time alone amid the bramble… He was here. He was alive.
Up until her final moments, she had been thinking of them. Of this. The people she cared for, a baby not yet born.
The love he had let go, the love he had lost, the love he was he had to learn… It slipped away from him so easily, like grains of sand sifting between his fingers.
Lilia sighed with his entire body. The wind, drying his tears. He looked again at the child he had taken.
Silver giggled when he saw Lilia’s face. The boy’s eyes were clear. An unclouded, colorful aurora.
A weight in his chest lifted.
“… Did you enjoy that sad story?”
No answer, but a bop on his nose. Unintentional, he was sure.
Lilia rubbed at the place where he had been struck. There was no wound, no mark. Just a rapidly fading warmth where Silver's small fist had connected.
“… Silly thing,” he groused. In spite of himself, a stuttering chuckle rose from his throat. “If it will keep you from making needless noise, then I will tell you as many stories as you like. You need only promise to not laugh if I shed another tear.”
Silver squealed—close enough of a confirmation for him.
Lilia tried smiling. The corners of his mouth quiver before giving up.
Meleanor’s parting words floated to him. “May the Night bless you.” With that, it was the end of her tale.
The very same words uttered anew, a blessing for the boy once blonde. A fresh chance, the beginning of a new story.
Lilia looked to the horizon.
The first rays of sun were peering through the darkness. Gold streaking black in small slivers. Dawn had arrived.
A new chapter to their fairy tale.
183 notes · View notes
hearts4hughes · 1 year
Text
regrets | jack hughes
jack hughes x fem! reader
part one
a/n: i rewrote this about a million times, and i can’t seem to settle on something i’m proud of, so i landed on this. i’m aware it’s rushed at the end, but it was so difficult for me to get ideas for this part 2.
warnings: swearing, alcohol, talk of toxic friendship
gif is not mine
Tumblr media
two weeks.
it’s been two weeks since you destroyed your relationship with jack. well, destroyed what was left of it.
the morning after, you woke up to twenty missed calls and about thirty texts- all from jack- along with a pounding headache. you chose to ignore his existence, skimming through the texts, and deleting all voicemails.
that has been your routine since it happened. you’d wake up with a tear stained face, puffy eyes, and delete all the ‘apologies’ jack had sent. various people had told you to block his number, but you couldn’t. he was still the same jack that you became best friends with, and that’s what kept you trapped in.
“i’ll take another.” you wave the bartender over, asking for what was probably your fourth drink of the night. he nods, making the alcoholic beverage.
getting handed the drink, you throw back the mix of tequila and various juices. every sip washes away your memories of that night. you can’t cry about something you can’t remember, and that logic made you more and more desperate to wash away your sorrows with liquor.
“how many of those have you had tonight?” you almost drop your glass at the sound of that voice. the same voice that used to be comforting, but now only reminds you of the horror and pain it carries.
slowly, you turn your head to look at jack. his eyes lock with yours, dull of their usual shimmer. he sends you a half-smile- if you can even call it that. without another word, you fly to your feet, making a one way exit out of the bar.
“miss, you have you pay for your drink!” the bartender yells out. coming to a halt, you turn around, motioning your head towards jack.
“he’s going to take my tab.” you beam, hoping that will slow jack down a little bit. he awkwardly smiles, pulling out $100 and giving it to the bartender, not caring how much lower the original bill was. hastily, he spins on his heels, praying he catches you before you escape.
if it weren’t for your stiletto heels, you’d be sprinting down the street like a runner, not caring where the finish line was. however, you could compromise with speed walking.
“y/n!” jack calls out. you didn’t bother to turn around, already knowing he was right on your tail. you pick up speed, looking both ways, and crossing the street. “y/n!” he yells again.
just as you thought you got away, a strong hand grabs your bicep, causing you to stop in your tracks. you turn around, eyes shooting daggers at him.
“let me go.” you command. your voice cold and authoritative. obeying your wishes, he releases you from his hold.
you swiftly turn around, ready to run at full speed down the main road.
“wait, please.” he begs. “let me drive you home and we can talk about everything.” the street light reveals jack’s features more in-depth. dark circles lay just under his beautiful blue eyes, that are bloodshot due to crying. he was just as broken as you.
“i’m not sure, jack.” your eyes flick to the ground, tracing the cracks and curves in the sidewalk.
if he took you home, he’d only pull you back into the vicious cycle that you both called a ‘friendship’.
“please.” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. your eyes finally land on his. you scan the regretful look plastered across his face. his lips are turned downward into a frown, eyes droopy and glassy, and his once tan complexion was now pale.
your eyes flick down to your shoes, not completely letting the pity overtake you. “ok.” you nod. his face lights up into a small smile.
“ok, good.” his voice is much happier, “my car is in the parking lot back there.” he leads you to his car, looking back ever so often, just to make sure your still there.
warily, you step into jack’s passenger seat. the car reeked of his smell, and with every deep breath, the memories you tried to erase, flooded back. you swallowed hard, telling yourself it was a mistake to ever allow him to persuade you into this.
“are you ok?” he asks, reading your mind. “you didn’t make a mistake by allowing me to bring you home, y/n/n.” the use of your nickname makes you wince. “i’m not going to give up on our relationship without explaining first.”
he said relationship.
not friendship.
relationship.
“i didn’t even say anything.” you snap, causing him to flinch.
jack swallows hard. he’s not used to the harsh actions coming from you. you were always jack’s rock. his shoulder to cry on when he needed you. he never thought his actions would’ve been thought of as leading you on, but then again, he doesn’t use his brain that much.
“yeah, but you’re thinking it. i can tell.” he mumbles, grabbing his phone and throwing it over to you. confused, you accept it, searching jack’s face for any clues of what you were supposed to do.
his face falls when he notices your confused actions. it was muscle memory for him to pass you this phone in the car, waiting for you to serenade him with your music. he even made a playlist for you because at that point, you owned his car radio.
“you always have the aux, remember?” he clarifies, bewildered how after only a few weeks, you had forgotten basic routines.
as the gears turn in your head, you tap on the playlist titled, ‘y/n/n <3’, and allow the soft sounds of taylor swift to whisk you away from reality.
the car ride was fairly short, considering your house was just down the road. you roughly shove your key into the keyhole and allowing him into your apartment. even during the depressing past weeks, you managed to keep your apartment clean. you needed some sort of distraction, and busying your mind with cleaning was the perfect one.
he crept into the home, letting his eyes wander all around as if he’d never seen it before. his finger tips grazed the wooden coffee table, admiring the floral arrangement strategically placed on it. he’d always loved how you decorated your apartment. it never failed to brighten his day when he saw the photos and memories that decorated the walls.
“kinda thought you would’ve taken this down after what happened.” he broke the deafening silence, picking up a framed photo of you and him at a carnival. you both shared a huge bag of cotton candy, his jacket covering your body, and his arm slung around your shoulders. you had always joked that when you brought men over and they saw that photo, they’d get scared away, not wanting to get involved with your nhl ‘boyfriend’.
“what are you here for, jack?” you ask, not entertaining his antics. he’s trying to butter you up. making you relive all the memories from the past and automatically forgive him, but it wasn’t going to work.
his body tenses as he places the photo down. “you know what i’m here for.” he insinuated, moving closer to you. “i need to explain. everything.”
you stood your ground, standing tall and confident. nodding your head, you urged him to continue.
“i’m so sorry for everything.” he began. “i led you on, lied to you, and made our relationship toxic. i took you for granted, y/n, and i regret it every single day.”
you stood there in silence, waiting for more to come from his apology.
he swallowed hard before starting to speak once again. “i’m going to be honest with you. i’m absolutely in love with you. more than just as friends. fuck, i have been since i met you.” he takes in a sharp breath, putting his hand behind his neck and throwing his head back. “i’m- i’m not good with emotions and feelings. this is going to sound pathetic, but the only thing i’ve truly loved besides my family was hockey. then you came along and changed that.”
tears started to swell in your eyes at his words. your body practically gives out as you slowly position yourself in the loveseat next to you.
you were seeing a whole other side to jack. he rarely ever opened up about his emotions like this. you were both confused as of what to do. the love related emotions being so foreign.
finally, he looks back down, locking eyes with you once again. the second he sees your watery eyes, the tears start to pour out of his. “i used all those other girls as distractions because i knew i couldn’t be with you. i knew i’d ruin you if we were together, and i couldn’t take it.” he admits through hiccuped breaths. “but i never would’ve thought that all of this would be hurting you just as bad.”
“oh, jack.” you coo, holding your hand out as a signal for him to join you on the small chair. “i wish you would’ve just told me this before.” he takes your hand, slowly placing himself next to you. your hand tangles with his hair as you pull him into your neck.
you both cry in the comfort of each others embrace. his arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you as close as possible. one of your hands massaging his scalp. while the other comfortingly rubbed up and down his back.
“i understand if you don’t forgive me. i promise i do.” he mumbles against your neck.
his words shoot a pang of hurt to your heart. “why would i not forgive you?” your voice was soft and soothing.
he says nothing in reply, not trying to make you forgive him out of pity. “jack, everyone has their ups and downs once in a while. what’s going to make our relationship strong is if we work through them together. i forgive you because you were trying to navigate your feels and ended up getting lost.”
“i love you so much,” he places soft kisses on the inside of your neck, “but we can’t be together. i’m only going to hurt you, and i don’t want that.”
“what’s hurting me more is that we aren’t together.” you retort. “let’s just try to make this work…please.” you plead.
“together?” he pulls away. his tear stained eyes meeting yours.
“together.” you reassure, kissing his lips gently.
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nexysworld · 1 year
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Guardian Angel 🖤 Part 1 🖤
Read on AO3 - Requests are Open - Masterlist
Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | 4.1 | 4.2| 4.3
Summary: Leon was your regular friendly neighbor, always helping you out. He’s just a nice friendly guy. Simple as that… or so you thought. As his obsession with you increases you'll soon learn just what type of man your seemingly friendly neighbor truly is.
🖤Pairing: Yandere!Leon/Fem!Reader 
🖤Tags (not all apply to all chapters): NSFW, Masturbation, Dubcon, Sex, Gaslighting, canon typical horror and gore descriptions, probably eventual kidnapping or kidnapping like behavior, use of pet names like bunny. Will add more tags as the story goes on
@hxllfiredoll Gave me Yandere!Leon brainrot, so here we go! I picture at least RE4R Leon in this. Let’s a gooooooo! 
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Leon had changed since the events of Raccoon City. He was no longer the bright eyed rookie cop who had the whole world ahead of him. Now he was in a much darker place, he’d seen the worst the world had to offer and he was not impressed. This world was no place for someone as perfect as you.
He felt like you were his flower trapped in a glass à la Beauty and the Beast, and without him there the glass would be removed by the world, each petal plucked from you until soon there’d be nothing left of his flower. You needed him obviously. What would you do without him? 
~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~
You didn’t know much about Leon, he was your neighbor and kept to himself mostly. You knew he worked for the government, but didn’t know what that entailed. You knew he was beyond handsome, but awkward as hell, at least from what you observed. You remembered coming up the stairs to your shared apartment building and the girl from apartment 202 had cornered him. Despite her best efforts and subtly hitting on him, she was met with a solid, “ok.” You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone escape behind a door faster than watching his honey blonde hair bounce with the speed of his movements. The next time you saw him you ran straight into him because you weren’t paying attention, dropping all of your grocery bags.. “Oh god I’m so sorry.” You said, reeling from how knocking into him was like hitting a wall with how built he was. “Hey, it's ok, I should’ve been watching where I was going.” He said. “Here let me help you with that.” Effortlessly he managed to pick up all of your bags and carry them to your apartment for you. “Thanks Leon.” “Don’t worry about it.” He gave you a quick smile before leaving. Really you thought Leon was just a naturally caring guy. I mean not all guys who are ridiculously good looking are assholes, right? That’s just a stereotype, and Leon would prove that to you often. It seemed like Leon was always somehow there to help you, with friendly neighborly gestures. Out of sugar? Sure you can borrow his. Laptop not working? Don’t worry he’s good with electronics. Furniture needs moving? Well it’s a good thing he’s strong. Really Leon was one of the nicest guys you’ve ever met. He just exudes a sense of friendly trustworthiness that you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was his soothing voice, or those steely blue eyes that you tried not to get lost in when you’d speak with him. Sometimes you’d find yourself inventing problems in order to speak with him and ask for help. You chalked it up to a little crush, nothing more than that. You wouldn’t allow it to be so, you had a boyfriend already, plans for the future. You weren’t the type of girl who’d throw that all away for some hot guy. Besides, Leon didn’t like you like that anyway, if he did you're sure you would know. He’s just a nice friendly guy. Simple as that. 
~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~
Leon thought about you a lot. When you’d leave he’d work his brain to remember the lingering scent of your floral perfume, the way you shyly tucked your hair out of your face when you talked with him. Most importantly that adorably sweet voice that ran like honey through his ears. He couldn’t believe such a little bunny like you lived right next to him. So sweet. So cute. So needy. Always knocking on his door for one thing or another. Under normal circumstances he would find himself irritated with the outside intrusion. When Leon wasn’t at work he liked to disassociate from life, what else was the point? Fight the bad guys. Go home. More pop up. Repeat. The world wasn’t kind, it wasn't fair. There was no point in anything else. But then you moved in. The girl next door. You became the point, the pinnacle of his future. His salvation. His new purpose. 
Slowly Leon began to notice that you needed his help more than you even realized. How did you even survive before meeting him? He began to follow you home from work, just to make sure you were safe of course. You were just a little hazard to yourself honestly. You didn’t look both ways before crossing the empty roads. You kept your social security card in your purse (don’t ask how he knows that.) You were too much of a people pleaser to avoid the strangers who’d stop to talk to you. Too dumb to know better than to wear such short little skirts out in public. 
Even worse was your home defense, I mean it took almost nothing for Leon to get into your apartment while you were away, and you certainly didn’t notice the little changes he made. Like the tiny cameras seated within your potted plants, the eye of the teddy bear you kept on your nightstand. You left your laptop open right on the kitchen counter! He didn’t even need to use his government equipment to get into your stuff. One hour of his time and all of a sudden all your texts and emails were popping up on his own secondary phone, your social media, everything.
 Stupid, stupid little bunny. The only thing worse than your ability to protect yourself was that hoity-toity upperclass hipster you called a boyfriend. Leon simply couldn’t fathom how some saucy fuck boy like that could work his way into your pure heart. He’d spent hours going through all your DM’s and texts with this man. He simply could not see the appeal. He treated you like you were too stupid to understand his profound pretentious thoughts and opinions. You were too good for scum like him. You needed a real man, you deserved a real man. 
Luckily for you, Leon was a real man. And now he found his new purpose in life was to keep you safe, keep your petals attached. You were so lucky Leon found you, he was going to give you everything you’d ever need. You’d never have to worry or think again. 
Leon had intended to do things the right way too, take things slowly. Really he did. He didn’t want you afraid of him, no he was going to be your prince, your knight in shining armor. He spent countless nights thinking of all the ways he could rid your boyfriend from existence so he could slip inside your heart and clean up the mess that was left. 
He thought of your gorgeous face, the cute little blushes you try to hide when you’re around him, how red your face would be if he finally took the plunge and asked you out. Or maybe he’d be more dramatic, going directly in for a kiss, running his tongue over your bottom lip, teasing you. Oh how precious his little bunny was.
Despite it taking every ounce of self control, Leon was determined to take things slowly, well he was trying anyway, you weren’t making this very easy, especially with the noises he was hearing from his computer. He lifted the laptop up so he could set it on the nightstand next to him. He clicked on the thumbnail of your room to blow up the image, and there you were splayed out putting on a show just for him - not that you knew that of course. 
There you were in all your glory, back arched into the mattress as you worked the toy in and out of your sopping hole with one hand while the other danced around your clit at a steady pace. Your face was flushed, lip bitten and eyes closed as you generated your pleasure. You looked so serene and ethereal, like a goddess of pleasure that he could worship. Leon felt his cock harden in his boxers, he pulled himself out and lazily stroked himself while he watched you. This was nothing new, something he’d done many times…that was until he heard your voice. “Nnng Leon…” He blinked at the screen for a moment, frozen as you softly chanted his name like a prayer. That, that was new. He knew you liked him, but he’d never seen you get off to him before. You were always such a good little girl, devoted to your future ex-boyfriend. The sound caught him so off guard he almost finished by your voice alone. He released his cock from his hand so he could grab the pair of panties of yours he kept in his nightstand, he wrapped them around his cock and continued to jerk himself while he watched you, jerking himself in rhythm with the way you toyed with yourself. He sped up when it looked like you were close, aiming to finish when you did. The second you let out a final scream of his name he felt the pleasure burst from his cock as hot ropes of cum spilled onto the laptop screen and his leg. “Don’t worry baby.” He said to the screen. “I won’t make you wait much longer for the real thing. My sweet little bunny shouldn’t have to work so hard to feel good.”
With that little scene before him, his resolve crumbled. Clearly going slow was a mistake, you needed him so badly in more ways than one. He was going to show you just how safe you are with him, how good he’ll be able to make you feel.
~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~
“Hey Derek, are you okay?” You asked as your boyfriend doubled over in the middle of the alleyway. “Yeah, just drank too much I think.” He said as the rest of his dinner came up along with what looked like blood. Under the dim lamplight you noticed that his skin was shining with sweat and there were spiderwebs of veins that looked pure black as they creeped along his skin. “D-derek…I really think we should get you to a hospital.” You said worriedly, putting your hand on his back. He spun around in a fury. “Don’t fucking touch me, I said I’m fine!” His eyes were a deep red and almost looked like they were glowing in the night. You backed away a few steps nervously. This was like a scene from a horror movie, surely it wasn’t real right? Maybe it was a prank? You gently reached out with a shaky arm to him. “H-hey, it’s gonna be alright.” He grabbed your wrist and yanked you harder than you thought possible before slamming you against the brick wall of the alley. He snarled in a way you’d never seen a human do before. “Stop, this isn’t funny.” You pleaded with him, but they fell on deaf ears. Desperately you fished around in your pocket until you found the pocket knife you kept in there. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll have to use it.” You threatened as your hand shook with tremors. The black veins had reached all over his face now, he snarled again leaning in with an open mouth indicating his intention to bite the flesh from your skin. In a scared panic you jammed the knife directly into his neck, he dropped to the ground and you ran to the end of the alley, tears welling in your eyes.
You stood staring at his body as it layed there on the ground twitching. You fished for your phone to call 911, but remembered you had forgotten it at home before your date. Fuck. You thought to yourself as you tried to ponder your next steps. Your thoughts were cut short though when you heard a disgusting sound, like flesh being torn apart, bones breaking. You looked over and saw something beginning to protrude from his face and neck. Worms? Tentacles? You weren’t sure. Surely you must be hallucinating right now, having a psychotic break. There was no other explanation for this.
You took one step forward, then another, and another until you were back in front of his body. Within seconds your face was splattered with blood as whatever it was bursted out entirely from his neck. You could see all the deformed features of his face while they danced in a mix of tentacles that were waving before you. You felt sick. You felt frozen. A gunshot rang out, and your boyfriend’s body slumped back to the ground, tentacles and all. The world became dizzy, the alley turning upside down, a voice you couldn’t make out. Someone stood over you, but you couldn’t see who as your head rattled. The next thing you knew you were out, slipping into the black void of unconsciousness. 
~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~
Leon had worked out the fastest plan to get rid of your future ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t hard for him to get a sample of the Plagas virus that the lab had been storing and it was even less difficult to inject it into the man. Of course the cleanup was a bit of a pain, blaming a DSO researcher who lived nearby, framing it on them. But when you want something done right, you gotta put a little effort in, ya know? Anything for his little bunny. Leon kept a close eye on you, closer than usual. His goal was only to frighten his little rabbit, not let her get killed or hurt more than was required. He saw the virus taking effect instantly, and noticed the odd ticks that would occur during your dinner date. Your own future ex-boyfriend and you didn’t even notice a change in his behavior until it became so obvious. He trailed you to the alleyway, hiding behind the dumpster as the scene played out. It hurt him to see you so scared. Truly it did, but you needed this. He couldn’t believe you actually walked back over to the body. See little bunny? That’s exactly why you needed Leon. The second Derek’s corpse was back on his feet, Leon drew his gun before sending a single, and final, lethal shot sending the Plagas back to the ground. He walked forward and caught you just as your body went slack. “Don’t worry sweetheart. I got you.” He said tossing you over his shoulder and into his car. His timing was perfect. He’d arrived back at the apartments just in time for the outside lights to be turned off both in the parking garage and external hallways. Carrying you to your apartment without being seen was a cakewalk. You made it even easier by staying unconscious the whole time Leon washed you up and tucked you into bed. He made sure to hide all evidence of your bloodied clothes, and of your now dead ex-boyfriend. Of course the DSO wouldn’t want the public to know that any kind of outbreak occurred, no matter how small, which meant that Derek had to disappear entirely. The government would take care of his family and friends, but you, you were all Leon’s to handle. He was nothing if not thorough to be sure, deleting any social media post, text, call log, anything at all that involved the man you once knew. Before he left your apartment, he leaned over and placed a small kiss on your forehead before slipping back over to his own apartment before the crack of dawn. Leon waited patiently for hours. Excruciating hours while you remained in your unconscious state. He knew you were about to wake though when he saw your face scrunch up on the camera, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead. 
~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~
You shot up in a panic. “Derek? Derek!” You shouted as your head pounded, your heart beat was so loud it resounded in your ears. You were more confused when your bedroom came into view and someone was sitting on the end of your bed. . . Leon? “What the —” “Hey sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said softly, moving towards you arm out like he was approaching a scared animal. “I heard you screaming and you didn’t answer the door so I let myself in just to make sure you were okay.” It took a few moments to process his words before you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Oh god, I’m sorry if I woke you up. I was just having a bad dream.” “Sounds like it.” He said softly, and there they were those endless blue eyes, instantly instilling comfort in you. “You sure you’re okay?” “Yeah I just…it was a nightmare that Derek died and…” She shuddered again. “Derek? Who’s that?” Leon asked, tilting his head. “A family member?” You gave him a confused look. Leon knew who your boyfriend was, they’d even met in passing once when he dropped you off at home. “No, Derek, you know him, my boyfriend?” “Derek? I don’t know anyone by that name, I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend.” He said with a soft laugh. Your eyebrows knitted together in a v-shape, more confused than ever. Maybe Leon just forgot? Maybe he was just joking with you? You reached over and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. You thought maybe giving him a call would help ease your mind, and maybe showcase to Leon you did in fact have a boyfriend. You swiped through your messages but didn’t see the text thread. You tried your snapchat, nothing. Instagram DMs, nothing. None of your threads or his accounts showed up at all. “What the fuck.” You said to yourself, hands beginning to tremble. “Is everything okay?” Leon asked softly. “Yeah I just…” You furiously swiped through your contacts and Derek wasn’t there. You tried calling his number. “Sorry the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected or no longer in service.” Something felt very wrong. You launched out of bed to your closet and dug through your old shoe boxes like a madwoman, ripping the lid off to dig through your polaroids that you had. Every single one with Derek, gone. You turned to face Leon, new tears streaming down your face. “What the fuck is going on.” You asked mostly to yourself. Leon walked over to you and ran a thumb over your cheek soothingly. “Hey, hey, calm down. Calm down. What’s wrong?” He asked softly. “What do you mean what’s wrong? Derek’s gone, everything is gone!? I was with him in the street and he died and now…now he’s just gone the pictures are gone…” You weren’t making a lot of sense trying to explain to Leon what you were talking about. Were you having a psychotic break? No way, the memories you had were real, how can you just imagine a decade of memories!?
~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~
His plan was working. Not even moments after you woke up you were already connecting your thoughts and memories to a person who no longer existed. He knew the more you pushed about this, the more lost you’d become. He wasn’t usually one for gaslighting, but he’d use any tool at his disposal for you. Don’t worry little bunny, the pain wouldn’t last long. Leon was here for you. He walked over and wrapped his strong arms around you in the tightest hug he could give you. He shushed you and rubbed your back while you sobbed. “Hey, hey it’ll be okay. It will be okay, why don’t we get you back to bed.”
He led you back to the mattress, running his fingers through your hair while you laid down. “Shhhh. Shhh.” He cooed, tucking you in tightly. When he turned to leave your arm shot out to his. “W-wait. If you don’t mind, can you stay the night? I just.. Something feels wrong. I don't want to be alone.” Of course he would stay the night with you. He nodded and sunk down on the bed next to you, above the blanket, not wanting to push his affections too far just yet. He played with your hair while you fell asleep again. Don’t worry little bunny, you were safe with him. You’ll always be safe with him. 
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kyojurismo · 6 months
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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟔 : 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄
𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
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𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. +18 nsfw, 1.9k words, age difference (reader is in her 20s, satoru is in his 30s), top!satoru, dub-con, fingering, nipple play, degradation, not proofread + pls notify me if there’s something else to tag, i’ll fix it asap.
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. hello dear readers. i know it took me a whole month to start posting something for my kinktober event, but life (and my depression) got in the way, so i wasn’t able to fully dedicate myself to writing (i take this opportunity to also remind y’all that 1. i do it as a hobby and 2. eng is not my first language). starting w day 6 bc i suddenly got the desire to write for satoru lol. well, that’s all from me now, i hope you guys will enjoy and please be sure to read the tags carefully !! ♡
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.
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satoru gojo was a close friend to your father, they worked together and sometimes he would invite satoru for dinner. he was charming and funny, so of course it never disturbed you. he also looked incredibly handsome, with those beautiful light blue eyes and white hair.
he looked so sad when you mentioned you were gonna move out for college, saying that he liked your young presence and your sense of humour, especially how you two often ended up talking about scary movies — a passion you two had in common.
you recently got back home, your father’s birthday was getting closer and you wanted to organise something to celebrate it, as long as help him decorate the house for halloween.
you weren’t exactly a fan of halloween costumes, more like you enjoyed the atmosphere and watching others dressing up as something.
you finished preparing yourself a snack when your phone started ringing, your father’s name appeared on screen.
“hey dad!”
“i’m gonna get home late tonight, i’m sorry baby. gotta catch up to some work, but we can watch the movie once i’m back if you’re not sleeping already. how does it sound?”
you took a couple of seconds to reply, because well — you’ve been looking forward to it for days, but you also knew that his job was important and that he couldn’t really left early because ‘he has some movie to watch’.
“yeah, sounds good. i’ll try my best to stay awake.”
“great! i asked satoru to pass by and check on you. i think he’ll bring something to eat too.”
“dad… i’m not fourteen, i don’t need a babysitter.”
“i know, i know. he just offered since it’s his day off.”
“whatever. see ya later.”
you hung up the phone and rolled your eyes. it was obvious your dad asked him to come over and check on you, but you didn’t mind it that much. he would leave quickly and you would end up having the rest of the evening all for yourself.
at least, that what you thought.
“i’m so surprised to see you,” you opened the door, sarcasm clear in your voice. you didn’t expect to see satoru dressed up as none other than the slender man. you chuckled, checking the mask a bit closer. “wow. you really got into it, huh?” satoru didn’t answer at first, playing the part before you rolled your eyes and walked back into the kitchen, leaving him there.
you heard the door closing a couple of seconds later, while grabbing your sandwich. satoru took off the mask and sighed deeply, glancing around the place. “what if it wasn’t me?” he sounded serious, concerned about your careless behaviour. “my father told me you were coming over to check on me, mr. babysitter.”
he rolled his eyes and put the bag with your food on the kitchen island, before looking at you. “what are you up to tonight?” he casually asked, watching you eating your sandwich in silence. you shrugged before meeting his eyes. “i’m gonna read or watch something, waiting for my dad to come home. what about you?” you smiled innocently, as if you didn’t have in plan to do a marathon of your favourite horror movies.
“dunno. my friend ditched me, so i’m all alone in this frightening night,” he pouted before smirking at your change of expression. “i’m talking about suguru, not your father.”
you rolled your eyes and pretended to be offended. you finished eating your sandwich and put the plate away. “well? are you leaving?” you asked him, making him gasp dramatically. “kids today are so poorly mannered! is this the right way to treat an old man?”
“you’re not that old, that’s also why i don’t get it how you became my father’s best friend in the first place,” satoru was around thirty years old, like ten years younger than your father. “i’m everyone’s favorite person,” he winked and you shook your head, chuckling. “you’re not, really.”
satoru looked offended and followed you into the living room, waiting for an apology. he got none. “whatever. can i stay over? maybe we can watch something together,” he asked you, genuinely interested in doing so. you thought about his offer, knowing that it wouldn’t hurt to have some company. “hm, okay. but i’m choosing,” you glanced at him while sitting down on the couch. “yeah, sure. just pick something scary.”
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halfway through the movie, satoru started shifting towards you, making it look casual. you bit your inner cheek as your leg touched his, stiffening a little.
“scared?” he murmured during a moment of silence, you shook your head. “hm,” he licked his lips before looking at you, noticing how you were growing nervous.
in reality, he had been looking at you differently since earlier. you felt strange about it, but you tried to ignore it for your own good. maybe he just wanted to mess with you a little like he would usually do.
one of his hand reached your leg and started caressing your clothed thigh, you shivered and quickly glanced down at it as your heart skipped a beat. your attention was caught by the size of his hand, before you slowly looked at his face. satoru’s eyes were glued to the tv, causing you to turn towards it a bit too quickly.
were you misreading the whole situation or … ?
“satoru,” you gathered some courage to call him. “what is it?” his voice sounded deeper and you gulped louder than expected, causing a smirk to appear on his face. “what—” you gasped as his hand tightened its grip on your thigh before moving closer to your center. “hmm?” satoru finally turned to look at you, your heart pounding rapidly into your chest as he casually cupped your sex. you unconsciously clenched your thighs, trapping it between your legs.
“i’m sorry, this movie is becoming more and more boring,” he spoke casually, looking unbothered by the whole situation. he acted like he wasn’t touching your body at all.
your cheeks grew warmer, you tried to find the right words and ignore how it all was affecting your poor body. it was wrong, he was your father’s best friend and he was older than you. it was very wrong… right?
the way his hand was grinding on you caught your attention and you snapped out of it, grabbing his wrist to stop him. “we-we can’t do this… it’s wrong,” you murmured, pushing it away. “is it though? your body is telling me something else,” he chuckled and finally met your face. his gaze felt much more intimidating now, as he hungrily stared down at you.
you felt slick gathering in your underwear and you shifted uncomfortably on the couch, causing a low laugh to escape satoru’s lips. “now now, why lying?” he suddenly pulled you closer, sitting you on his lap. you could feel his erection right against your lower back, which caused your whole face to grow warmer.
“satoru, wait–” you tried to say something else before his hands pushed your legs apart, then his hands reached your chest and he grabbed your breasts, groping you experimentally. you bit back a moan, squirming under his touch. “sensitive, hm?” he went to pinch your nipples, playing with your boobs as he liked.
a sparkle of excitement filled your guts, even though a part of you knew it wasn’t right, some other was trying to convince you to give in and let him touch you. he was an experienced man for sure, different from other college students. a part of you was also craving some well deserved release. you tilted your head back, closing your eyes. you jumped as his hands slapped your thighs, making you shiver and moan softly.
“i wanna hear every sound coming from your little mouth, you got that little slut?” satoru spoke right into your ear as one of his hands slipped under your shirt while the other sneaked into your leggings, starting to caress your clothed clit. his hands were cold compared to your actual body temperature, and that caused another shiver to run down your body.
“this is wrong,” you whispered, more for yourself. he smirked and rubbed your clit faster, his hand finding a way to slip under your bra and finally touch your hardened nipple. your will to fight the moans caused by the pleasure provided by his skilled hands left your body and you finally gave in.
you moaned as satoru pushed two fingers into your wet channel, taking advantage of how much wet you were already. his long fingers were able to reach spots you couldn’t, which made your stomach turn as whimpers escaped your parted lips. “you’re this wet for your father’s friend, hm? and those sounds, that some real slutty behaviour,” satoru’s tone was completely different from before, he kept speaking — degrading, you while his fingers worked inside your cunt, thrusting deeply and hitting the perfect spot to make your toes curl and cause your back to arch, unconsciously pushing your chest into his hand. “what are you, some college whore now?” his lips kissed right under your ear, biting your neck softly before licking your shivering skin.
“n-no,” you tried to argue back, your hand grabbed his wrist desperately as you grew close to your climax. “no? then why are you this wet? you enjoy getting manhandled and fucked, huh?” satoru’s movements never faltered. “the way you’re clenching on my fingers tells me you like being degraded too.”
you were too embarrassed to reply to any of his accusations, but also too focused on the incoming orgasm. you tried to clench your thighs together as your pussy spasmed around his fingers, gushing hard as you finally came while crying his name.
you sobbed when his thumb massaged your pulsing clit, making you jolt in his lap and almost hitting his chin with your head. he chuckled at your reaction, deciding to play with you for a couple of seconds more before finally leaving your poor pussy alone.
as his hands finally resurfaced from inside your clothes, you clearly saw him licking his fingers clean, groaning softly at the taste. he seemed satisfied even though you were the only one who had the privilege to have an orgasm that night.
“well, little star,” satoru moved your body off of him and placed you back in your previous position, you were still a bit dizzy from what just happened. “time to go,” he got up and stretched, before turning to look at you. “you should change yourself, hm?” he glanced at your ruined leggings before cupping your cheek with his large palm, caressing your warm skin. “i’m proud of my little slut,” he murmured before tracing your lips with his thumb, smirking at you. “goodnight,” he then patted your head and walked towards the main door, opening and closing it in a swift motion. he left as if nothing happened, he didn’t asked if you enjoyed it or not — your cunt sure did. your head was filled with too many thoughts at once. it was alright, it was wrong, it felt good, he knows how to treat a woman, he’s an asshole, it was so hot.
then one single thought filled your mind, causing you to fall back against the cushion of the couch. you found yourself staring at some random point in front of you.
satoru gojo, one of your father’s best friends, made you cum with his fingers… and it felt a bit too good.
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @naomi-nana @euphiroo @eynnwwyjth @titantears @plast3c @katsuslover
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jtl-fics · 10 months
Text
Fluent Freshman - Part 28
PREVIOUS
FF does not like being on pain medication.
Everything feels floaty and it is so hard to focus on anything around him.
He’s almost glad that his Gran has given him something to focus on that something being helping her sell her lie to the Foxes that she only knows Polish. Coach Wymack must know but the man is a steel trap and FF finds himself envying his Gran that HER secret keeper is Coach Wymack.
“Smithy! My sweet beautiful idiot!” Nicky cries when Gran gives Wymack the OK for them to come back in. FF finds himself on the receiving end of 2 forehead kisses and a kiss to each of his cheeks from Nicky. “Next time you see a crazy mafia hitman looking to kidnap me you just grab me and RUN.” He orders pointedly, “No more cool guy shit where you take ‘em out in the weird sex alley.” He runs his fingers through FF’s hair and…
Yeah it’s okay that Nicky is the one that knows.
Nicky is so nice.
“What about Aaron?” FF asks.
“If Romero could grab Aaron when he is in whacky inflatable tube mode then I don’t think he’d be taken out by you and Andrew.” Nicky says with a watery smile.
“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is offended.
“Learn to dance at a club already. We’ve been going for years.” Nicky shoots back but never takes his eyes off of FF’s face.
“I dance just fine. I’m better than Kevin.” Aaron argues.
“Hey.” Kevin’s voice is offended.
“You are better than Kevin, but that’s not a real standard of good.” Nicky dismisses, “Regardless, next time grab me and I’ll grab Aaron and the three of us can hide literally anywhere other than the weird sex alley. We could go to the back room with Roland or, if it means you not ending up in the hospital with a stab wound, I would even tolerate hiding down in the straight swingers club in the basement.” Nicky says.
He sees Andrew and Captain Neil tense off to the side.
Oh, that’s right.
Oh fun another lie for him to focus on instead of feeling floaty. Gran always talked about the virtue of telling the truth but the only thing set free would be Nicky in a club that he’s not supposed to know about.
“I wouldn’t ask that of you Nicky.” FF says instead.
Nicky laughs and kisses his cheek one more time. “You’re my favorite family member now. Sorry Aaron, you’ve made me endure the horrors of a heterosexual relationship for too long.” Nicky says stroking  FF’s face as he looks up to where FF assumes Aaron is.
“Hey.” Aaron says in the exact same way he said earlier.
“Andrew-“ Nicky starts but is cut off.
“I don’t care.”
“That’s the spirit.” Nicky says, “Neil-“
“Nicky, I also don’t care.”
“At least you have one another to support each other.”
“Wait, what about me?” Kevin asks.
“You won’t even LEARN the family language Kevin, you were NEVER in the running for my favorite.” Nicky dismisses and doesn’t bother to turn back to the  “So Smithy is my favorite family member now with Aras coming in second.”
Two things strike FF in the wake of family conversation.
First, when in the world did Kevin get here? Why is he here? Is he going to ask the doctors to run tests on FF to figure out stealth mode?
Second, Nicky just used his Gran’s nickname. The nickname that causes FF no small amount of embarrassment. It was a youthful indiscretion! He had thought he understood Lithuanian quite well! He had wanted to impress his Great Gran and his Gran with his knowledge.
“You’re looking pale Smith, do you need more pain medication?” Captain Neil asks.
“No, I’m fine.” He is pretty sure that pain meds can’t numb the psychological pain of his friends hearing about his youthful mistakes and he doesn’t care how bad his stomach is going to hurt he wants to only take the absolute minimum amount of pain meds required to get through this so he can stop floating.
Having friends nearby makes it so much easier.
Conversations go on with him and around him. He’s tired still from everything and when a nurse comes in to try and give him more pain medication he declines. All present in the room except Gran try to convince him to take it but he declines all but the most minor amount to take the edge off.
He finally realizes that Kevin had not been with them and asks why the hell he’s here. He gets an answer that makes him reconsider being on any pain medication at all because it doesn’t really make any sense. Why in the world is Kevin telling him not to trust the nutritionist?
Neil lets him know that the FBI are going to be coming around at some point to talk to him. He says that Agent Browning is a dick but generally fine and that there will be a local agent Iruma Matsumoto stopping by before him, probably today. He looks right at Andrew and says “Yeah, I’ll talk with them about how Romero stabbed me.” Andrew lets out an amused puff of laughter that makes FF feel like he might be doing alright at this friendship thing.
He apologizes to Andrew that he can’t make the pie today and gets a flick to his ear.
He finds out that he slept through all of Saturday and that it is Sunday morning. Finds out that his Gran and Wymack had stayed over at the Columbia house last night and that Wymack has him excused from his classes this week. He also finds out that Nicky has given his grandma a key to the house in Columbia so she could stay there while she’s visiting him.
He apologizes to Nicky for messing up the clothes he’d let him borrow and earns another flick to the ear from Nicky.
Wymack hands him a new phone that Nicky has apparently set up for him. His lip quirks up slightly when he sees that Nicky registered it as ’Smithy’s phone’. Neil shows him some stuff since he has the same phone model but Andrew rolls his eyes.
“You’ve barely figured out how to set anything on your phone Junkie. You still haven’t even set a screen lock.” He says as he pulls Neil back from FF’s space.
“I’ve figured out how to change the notification ping.” Neil argues but lets himself be pulled away and if Andrew keeps his arm around Neil afterwards? No one comments on that.
He translates things for his Gran when it seems important for her to be able to respond to and helps Nicky with some pronunciations.
He falls asleep a couple times and wakes up to his friends and teammates in all sorts of different configurations. Nicky gets him some good sugar-free Jell-O from the nurses while Aaron smacks Kevin upside the head when Kevin complains that it’s not good for him and not part of the diet he’s making to get FF back on the Court ASAP. “He’s gotta be on a clear liquid diet for 24 hours after his surgery.” Aaron hisses.
“Why does it have to be clear? I can put it in a blender but it won’t be clear.” Kevin grumbles.
“He’s not going to be on puree’d food for at least two weeks idiot.” Aaron smacks his head again.
“Stop that.”
He hears from Wymack the other Freshman Dealer won’t be returning and that Sheena is now their only Dealer and she does not do defense well. Kevin’s disapproval for the Jell-O cups only grows stronger in light of this news. His grumbling only stops when Gran looks at him and says “Maybe someone should help you pull that stick out of your ass young man.” In her nicest most grandmotherly voice.
When Kevin turns to FF for a translation Nicky beats him to it, “She said a handsome young man like you shouldn’t ruin your face with worries.” He says without a hint that he’s lying.
Kevin preens at the grandmotherly approval of his looks and FF gets to know that he, Nicky and his grandma all have lying in common.
Eventually it’s lunch time and the natural hunger of college athlete boys trumps anything else. Kevin won’t eat anything at the cafeteria since he doesn’t trust the nutritionist so they agree to head out of the hospital to grab food. He’s more tired than hungry so he tells his Gran to go with them. She pats his face and promises she’ll be back with some clear soup for him per the Doctor’s order and despite Kevin’s grumbling that he could make a clear protein shake.
His Gran kisses his forehead and tells him that she’ll be back soon and that he should rest as much as he can.
***
FF can’t sleep.
He tried.
He really did.
But without the noise of everyone else his mind keeps going back to the last time he was in a hospital. He closes his eyes and he can see Gran’s pale face when she tells him that his dad didn’t make it and the tears when she tells him neither-
He can’t sleep.
So he gets up against medical advice and decides to go on a walk. He’s not been connected to any of the monitoring equipment since he had first woken up, just the IV keeping him hydrated. FF decides he wants to get his dad’s leather back because it would make him feel better. The leather jacket has weight that would keep his feet strictly on the ground and it’s something his Gran had given to him when he went off to college so that he could keep his dad close. He could call a nurse but it feels like he shouldn’t distract them with something as stupid as getting him his dad’s jacket so he doesn’t have a panic attack.
So he lets himself slip into the background and heads towards the nurse station. He thinks that might be where they’re holding his belongings. It’s a good first stop if nothing else.
He can’t help but notice a strange number of men in suits but figures that maybe they’re just there to talk to people who seem to have gotten caught up in some sort of mass casualty incident.
He makes it to the nurse station and when a whole 5 minutes goes by without a single nurse clocking that he exists he considers speaking up until he sees a nurse bagging up some clothes, slapping on a label, and heading away.
It’s nice when things work out for him.
Another suit wearing man comes up and a different nurse sees him there immediately and comes up, “What can I help you with?” She asks.
“I’m looking for someone with the last name Smith, he has a stab wound?” The man asks.
“You’re going to have to be more specific.” The nurse responds with exasperation but FF is already almost out of earshot when he hears it because he’s following the nurse with the bag.
He follows her down the hallway and she thankfully takes an elevator instead of going down the stairs because FF doesn’t know how he would have gotten his IV stand down with him.
FF walks in with her and he watches her slump as the doors slide close. Relaxing like most people do when they think they’re alone. Her shoulders go straight back when the elevator opens again and he follows after her.
He follows her to a door that she unlocks and proceeds to enter and FF sees a room full of the same bags with belongs all tagged with a last name and a room number. “Christ, why are there so many fucking Smiths in here right now?” She grumbles but takes him straight to the S section and he sees his own ‘Smith’ and room number.
He grabs it and heads out the door before the nurse and heads into the elevator.
His phone pings with a text message. He opens it and sees a text from an unknown number.
“Come to the Cafeteria. - IM”
FF stares at his phone for a few minutes before the initials click.
Iruma Matsumoto, the local FBI agent who was coming to talk to him today according to Captain Neil. It’s weird to be texted like this but this is the first time he’s ever had to talk to the FBI. Maybe it’s normal? He doesn’t really want to bother Captain Neil about what getting interrogated by the FBI is like since Captain Neil is out at lunch.
He decides to go to the Cafeteria.
FF follows the directory in the elevator and then the arrows that point him towards the cafeteria. He takes a moment to pull his dad’s jacket out and it does help him feel better. He realizes the McDonald’s toy is still in his pocket and thinks that he really should probably turn that over to Agent Matsumoto.
When he gets to the cafeteria he sees even more of those guys in suits and then he sees a well dressed Japanese man sitting by himself at a table. FF has a moment where he thinks ‘Wow that FBI agent sure does look like a member of the Yakuza.’ Before he squashes it because ‘OMG that’s such a fucking racist thing to think. Thoughts from the abyss are the worst and Agent Matsumoto is probably a perfectly nice guy.’
He takes a seat in front of the man who is surrounded by two other of the men in black he’s seen. Oh that guy was probably looking for him to bring him here so they could have the talk.
None of the men seem to notice him and FF realizes that he’s still in stealth mode. He sets the bag with the rest of his clothes to the side and clears his throat.
Three sets of eyes are on him immediately and FF breathes through the anxiety as the two men at either side of Agent Matsumoto seem to reach for something at their holsters.
“Captain Neil said you wanted to talk to me.” He says.
Captain Matsumoto raises a hand and the two men on either side of him return to an at ease position.
***
Ichirou Moriyama could admit to himself that he had been startled when a young man seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of him without any warning. He sees a bulge in the man’s pocket that says that he’s armed and he could have done anything before bringing attention to himself. He had men throughout the hospital and no one has spotted Wesninski or any of his cohorts but they had their eyes peeled for the uninvolved civilian who had taken out Jackson on his own and had assisted Wesninski’s guard dog in taking out Romero.
Interesting.
Ichirou clasps his hands together in over the cafeteria table.
“Yes, let’s talk.” He agrees.
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MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
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