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#ten books with three of them being split into two parts
atlasdoe · 3 months
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my roman empire is The Marauders Series by Pengiwen on wattpad.
nobody can convince me that tms isn't the best cannon compliant marauders fic out there. i could talk about it all day
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mint-yooxgi · 9 months
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{14} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader
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Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Smut
Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa near the end, Slight Hongjoong)
Words: 16,125
Warnings: Brief mentions of anxiety and PTSD (not OC), mentions of blood, weapons. Smut: Oral (m. rec.), subby!Hwa, minor knife play and begging, I think that's it. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: I'm glad I split this into two parts. I knew it was going to be long! And boy oh boy, who's excited for the next chapter? I'm excited for the next chapter! iykyk ;)) As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~
Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.
Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen
There’s an eager spring to your step as Yeosang leads you over to a side door, of which he’s just made materialize in front of your eyes. Not even the grumbling of the other seven males behind you can bring down your mood, excitement coursing through your veins as he opens the door, holding it open for you to step through in the next second.
“I’m still not used to you all being able to do that.” You comment, smiling at Yeosang in thanks as you step into the new room.
It’s a bit dark, so you can’t quite see much, but you can feel them all stepping in behind you.
“It’s great for hiding things in plain sight.” San comments, attempting to step in beside you, only for Yeosang to take his place in an instant.
“I can imagine- holy shit!” The moment the lights come on, you’re greeted by a room full of bows and arrows of various shapes and sizes.
Your jaw drops, eyes going wide as you take in the grand space before you. It’s a simple room in all aspects, square in design with mounts and racks to hold all of the various weapons that you can just tell all belong to Yeosang. Not that you would doubt that for even a minute.
Softly, you hear the sound of the door shutting behind you.
Pure excitement thrums through your veins, your body practically vibrating as you take in the space around you. Still, you keep your distance, not wanting to touch anything and risk damaging or breaking any of the various weapons lining the room. The urge to touch everything in sight is quite strong, and you cannot help the way your fingers twitch, almost subconsciously, at your sides.
“Go ahead, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles gently at you, a small nod to his head. “Don’t hold back.”
You do not need to be told twice.
Almost as soon as the words have left his mouth, you’re zipping over to the wall in front of you and inspecting all the different styles of bows. There’s a giddiness to your movements as you look over some more traditional, simplistic bows made of various materials such as metal and wood, to more intricately designed ones. Each weapon varies in colour, some curving in a singular arch, while others curve like stereotypical ‘m’ shaped birds in children’s drawings. Even the strings vary in colour, some being a pure white, while others are a dark red.
One bow in particular catches your eyes, and before you realize what you’re doing, you reach out to it. However, before you can so much as lay a single finger on the intricate carvings, you catch yourself.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, you retract your hand.
A low chuckle sounds right behind you.
“It’s okay, Dearest,” Yeosang steps up to you, pressing himself against your back so that he can lean into you. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear as his hands settle against your waist. “What’s mine is yours.”
A shiver caresses your spine, and you can practically feel him smirk against the skin of your neck.
“I just don’t want to damage anything,” you mutter, still unsure of if you should reach out and touch the gorgeous bow resting before you.
“Believe us, Darling,” Jongho comments, and you can just hear the affectionate smile that he wears in his voice as he speaks. “You don’t have to worry about damaging anything. Our weapons are made with the strongest materials available to us. You couldn’t put a scratch on them, even if you tried.”
“Not to mention the magic we imbue them with for extra protection,” Yunho hums.
Understanding flashes across your features, nodding your head almost subconsciously. Still, your eyes briefly dart over to Yeosang one last time, who’s head rests just beside your own. As soon as you see him smile and nod, you take that intricately carved bow into your hands.
Vines appear to wrap themselves around the shaft of the bow, leaves branching out in intricate designs over the wood. The string is a solid white, while the colour of the bow itself is an almost faded grey, appearing a misty green in the light. It’s not very heavy by any means, but just from merely looking at the bow, you can tell that it’s strong.
Carefully, your fingers trace over the carvings, nothing but pure wonder shining in your eyes. “Did you carve this yourself?”
You feel Yeosang nod against your shoulder, and your lips part in awe as a low gasp escapes you.
“Wow.”
“We make all of our own weapons, My Divine.” Seonghwa makes sure to keep his tone soft as he informs you of this, not wanting to disturb the moment that’s settled around you all. “Have been since the beginning.”
“That’s incredible.” You breathe out, turning to face the other seven males with that bow still in your hands. “You’re all incredible!”
The way they all smile shyly in response says it all.
“Seriously, is there anything you all can’t do?” You turn your attention back to the bow in your hands, heart thundering as you stroke a hand down the shaft of the bow.
Mingi’s lips part in response, but at the quick jab of San’s elbow to his ribs, he’s closing it.
You quirk a brow in amusement, not needing to be able to read his mind to know he was about to remind you all that he can’t cook once again.
Sparing another glance around the room, your eyes catch on another intricately carved bow. Another gasp is escaping your lips as you waddle over to it excitedly, noticing how the two tips seem to be shaped like serpents which appear to intertwine intricately with one another to make the body of the bow.
“Literally, these are so beautiful.” You say, eyes scanning over every detail that you can.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, My Dear,” Yeosang chuckles, his one hand settling onto the small of your back as you walk around the room.
“This is one of the best days of my life,” you reply honestly, walking over to the wall of arrows across from you.
In no time at all, Yeosang launches into an explanation of all the different types of arrows he uses. The majority, he’s made himself, while others have been a collaboration between him and his brothers. Wooyoung more than happily chimes in when the different poison arrows are mentioned, the two of them detailing how each poison is administered depending on the arrow. Some are injected through the shaft, while other arrows are coated in the poison which gets administered through point of contact.
The whole time, you listen intently. Your eyes never lose that shine of wonder, lips pulling upwards in a radiant smile as they all observe you taking this all in. The fact that you appear so interested, and ecstatic to learn about all of this is making their hearts sing, and their souls come alight.
Finally, they can share this with you, too.
“So,” you turn back to Yeosang after he’s finished describing how his shattering arrows work. “Which one is your favourite?”
The way his eyes light up even further at your inquiry says it all.
“Design wise,” immediately, he’s pointing at the bow carved to resemble those two intertwined snakes. “Functionality, though, is a different story.”
Leading you back over to the main wall that you had grabbed the intricately carved bow with the vines from, he’s quick to grab another off of a hook. It’s quite simplistic in design, smooth black edges greeting your vision. The bow appears to be made out of some sort of thin metal, the edges sharp in the light of the room.
Ever so carefully, Yeosang trades the bow in your hand which you have yet to let go of with this new one. He’s quick to place the wooden one back on the wall as you marvel at how light this new bow is, holding it in the air slightly beside your head.
“The edges can cut through steel.” He comments casually.
“More like anything that you can imagine.” San chuckles, crossing his arms lightly.
Anticipation claws at his chest. Really, anticipation claws at all of their chests. If this is how you’re reacting to Yeosang’s weapons, then they each cannot wait for you to see their own collections. The wonder and awe alone is enough to satiate their original burning jealousy that had arisen at the fact that it was Yeosang who managed to both get you to use his weapon with him first, as well as show you his collection.
“What’s it made out of?” You ask, nothing but curiosity to your tone as you inspect the bow. You know better than to run your fingers along the sharp edges, but that does not stop you from turning it over slightly in your hands while gripping the handle.
“It’s a special kind of metal found only in our realm.” Mingi tells you. “Most of our weapons are made out of it, since it’s the lightest material we have, while also being the most durable.”
“So, it’s like vibranium from the marvel universe?” You quirk a brow at all of them, somewhat knowingly.
“You could say that.” Seonghwa chuckles, nodding his head lightly in response to your words.
“We call it Sage Metal,” Hongjoong says. “It’s the only thing strong enough to cut itself.”
“Wow,” you repeat your awe filled exhalation from earlier. “Can it be worked like any other metal, or is there a special process you have to use while forging it?”
“It can be worked like any other metal.” Seonghwa confirms, a sort of pride shining in his eyes as he watches you with a smile. “It’s got an insanely high boiling point though, so San and Mingi have the easiest time out of all of us working with it.”
At this, your brow quirks.
“We each have materials we work best with.” Mingi shrugs. “Just like we have preferred weapons we like to use.”
“That’s really cool!” You say, handing Yeosang back his bow.
“You should have seen the amount of times our workshops caught fire in the early days.” San jokes, the slightest of upturns to the corner of his lips. “Good thing we’re quick learners.”
“Yeah, that, and you didn’t want to singe all of your hair off again.” Wooyoung laughs, leading to him soon being chased around the small space by the elder male.
You laugh, “I take it that that happened more than once?”
“To all of us.” Seonghwa confirms, voice suddenly a bit strained as he seems to be recalling the memories right this very instant. Subconsciously, he runs his fingers through his hair. “Multiple times.”
A snort of laughter escapes you this time, and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles.
Amused quirks of their brows greet you in response, and you find yourself waving your free hand in front of yourself. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just really funny to imagine. I like knowing you guys weren’t always this composed.”
This time, it’s Wooyoung’s turn to snort out a laugh, “Angel, when have you ever known us to be composed around you?”
You take a moment to consider his words, even going so far as to lift a finger in protest as your lips part. Then, you’re nodding, eyebrows raising in agreement, “A good point.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jongho rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as a huff escapes him.
You simply quirk a brow in amusement at him, your one hand coming up to rub almost teasingly at the side of your neck where he bit you all those weeks ago.
Subtly, red begins to creep up his neck.
“Right, well,” he clears his throat, “Shall we move on to the next room?”
A few side-eyed looks are sent the youngest’s way in response, and you swear you see both Mingi’s and Hongjoong’s eyes flash black for the briefest of moments. However, before you can think too much on it, San is practically grabbing your hand and dragging you away from Yeosang. All too eagerly, the younger male leads you back over to the door you entered into the room from. A second later, he’s opening it and guiding you through.
Your eyes immediately light up at seeing all of the different spears, tridents, and javelins lining the walls, amongst other pole based weapons. Again, they’re all made form a range of materials in a variety of colours, and each design manages to take your breath away.
“Go wild,” San leans in to whisper in your ear, just as you hear the door fall shut behind you.
A large, giddy smile pulls onto your lips as you immediately race over to the one wall. There’s a specific spear that’s caught your eye, and the closer you get to the tip, the more detail work you can see carved into it. There seems to be a pattern of sorts etched into the metal, unfamiliar to you with all its swirls and shapes, but beautiful nonetheless.
The entire room is silent as you stand there, observing the intricate detailing of the spear’s tip. Each male watches you fondly, enjoying this moment for as long as they possibly can. Seeing your wonder and marvel at all of the designs makes their hearts race, and knowing that you’re enjoying yourself currently means the world to each and every single one of them.
Finally, you begin to move around the room, San right beside you the whole time.
“I feel like I’m in an art museum or something.” You admit lowly, voice airy and full of awe.
“Well, designing and forging weapons is simply another form of art.” Yunho nods his agreement.
“And you’ve all been making these your whole lives?” You turn to glance at the others from over your shoulder.
Small nods of confirmation greet you in response, subtle smiles pulling at all of their features.
“It’s why we take such great lengths to store them.” Yeosang adds. “Only we can access these rooms, for they are intricately linked, and can only be entered through this one door.”
Nothing but awe shines in your eyes as your lips part. A breathless ‘wow’ escapes you once more, turning lightly in a circle as you take in the whole room.
“Then, there are eight rooms?” You turn back to face them.
“Eight main ones, yes.” San says. “We have many storage rooms, and way too many weapons we no longer use.”
“That’s not to mention each of our own forges which are connected to our storehouses.” Seonghwa comments casually, leaning against the wall right beside the door.
“So, the rooms are almost like a labyrinth of sorts?” You tilt your head slightly in inquiry.
“You could say that.” Hongjoong chuckles. “It’s more of individual blocks of rooms floating in limbo within our domain until we summon the rooms to this door.”
“Ah,” you nod slowly in understanding. “I see.” The corner of your lips quirk upwards. “That’s still really cool.”
Little do you see the small, bashful smiles that tug at their features as you look away for the moment.
Turning back to face the tridents, you take in the various styles lining the wall. Some are placed vertically, while others sit horizontally, displaying the many pikes on each.
Two in particular - one silver with five prongs, and one gold with three prongs - catch your eye. Both are shiny, appearing as if they might be the newest to his collection as they are displayed side by side on a slight angle. It’s as if he purposely hung them like this; to emphasize the set they seem to make together. They’re quite familiar, and as you get closer, you realize why.
The silver one is a perfect replica of Queen Atlanna’s trident from the Aquaman film, while the gold is a perfect replica of Arthur’s own.
The way San is staring at you, his eyes shining with nothing but affection with just a hint of nervousness, says it all.
You smile, grabbing his hand in your own. Softly, you squeeze, warmth flooding your chest as you understand exactly what his intentions are. He made these for you, and him. He means for the two of you to use these together. The set never meant to be separated, or be without the other in battle.
For a brief moment, you allow him passed your void.
My Aquaman. You hum, squeezing his hand once more. Thank you.
My Queen, He mirrors your smile, his shoulders relaxing the slightest bit as he squeezes your hand back. I’m just glad you like them.
Like them? You reply, rather eagerly. Sannie, I love them.
The soft giggle he lets out fills the room, his eyes crinkling in the corners with the weight of his happiness. I’m glad.
Softly, you wiggle your intertwined hands in the space between your bodies. Not even a moment later, you’re turning back to the wall of tridents, lifting your gaze to take in the ones near the top of the wall. That’s when another, near the corner of the room, catches your attention.
A gasp escapes you. “No way.”
Rushing over to the trident, you end up half dragging, half pulling San along with you. You’ve closed your void to him now, so he cannot get a sense of what it truly is that’s caught your attention. That is, until you’re speaking once more.
“So, when were you going to tell me that you have an exact replica of Finnick’s trident from Catching Fire?” You quirk a brow, glancing at him briefly.
San grins, lifting said object off of the wall. “I figured it would be a nice surprise.”
“You seem to be full of nice surprises today, Pretty Boy.” You grin right back, watching as he handles that trident carefully before you.
“So, that’s what you ran off to make that one day,” Jongho mumbles, understanding painting his features. “I was wondering why you were asking me all those questions about her favourite book series.”
“I do love The Hunger Games.” You nod, eyes widening in excitement as San hands you the trident. “Finnick is my favourite character.” Then, a moment’s pause as you look over the weapon in your hands. “Him and Annie deserved better.”
Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho nodding solemnly along with your words.
“I thought it was that set he made that day,” Hongjoong motions back to the Aquaman tridents proudly on display.
“I had to start with something easier,” San replies, sparing a look at all of his brothers.
“You count this design as easy?” You voice, incredulously, as the fingers of your one hand come up to trace the pole gently.
San only chuckles in response, offering you a small shrug of his shoulders.
“I don’t blame him.” Mingi hums, glancing from Jongho to Seonghwa. “There seems to be a recurring theme of making replicas of weapons belonging to your favourite characters and series, Starlight.”
“Speaking from experience, Min?” You place the trident back in its spot, moving over to where the others are standing after having your fill of looking around.
“You’ll see.” He chuckles, moving to wrap his arm around your shoulders.
Only, the youngest placing his hand onto the small of your back beats him to it. You nearly shiver from the contact, the tips of his fingers pressing lightly into your bare skin. 
That’s when you remember: you’re still only in your sport’s bra for the moment.
A glare is sent Jongho’s way, not just from Mingi, but from San as well. Your time in his weapon’s hold was far too short for his liking, but at least you enjoyed yourself. A bonus? You’re still beaming as Jongho leads you back through the door.
The moment you step through the threshold to be surrounded by axes of every size, shape, and colour, your lips part in a gasp, “Oh my.”
On one wall, throwing axes and hatchets are displayed. The opposite, everything ranging from a typical fireman’s axe, to the most intricately designed single bladed axes reside. On the final wall, double bladed axes reside, one sticking out more than the rest.
Your eyes widen, practically running out of Jongho’s hold as you see the axe resting in the centre display. It’s dual blades are familiar to you, the metal smooth before giving way to two sets of three triangles hollowed out on either side of the shaft. There, detailed rune work resides, and you find you can only place your hand over your heart in attempts to quell its beating.
“I see what you mean.” You swallow thickly, nearly jumping as you feel Jongho’s hand return to the small of your back.
“It’s quite effective in battle,” Jongho mentions casually, leading you over to the wall of hatches to show you the two other small axes that Gimli has in his arsenal that he’s also taken the liberty to make.
“You’ve already used Gimli’s axe in battle?” There’s nothing but wonder in your voice as you look at him, your whole body practically vibrating in excitement.
“Not yet, technically.” He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “But the simulations have all run smoothly.”
You turn back to the weapons before you, nothing but wonder in your eyes, “Wow.”
You’re starting to notice a slight pattern to the rooms now. All of them seem to be about the same size, with their weapons all lining the walls. Some of them even have a few extra racks to hold certain designs, but for the most part, the main wall houses what you assume to be the favourites, while the other side walls hold the smaller designs. They’re all organized quite well, and from the gleam you can see coming from each polished weapon, you can tell that they are all well taken care of, and maintained regularly.
Something they seem to have in common for all of the things that they care for - a great sense of both responsibility, and attention to detail when looking after them.
“Come, there’s another one I want to show you.” Jongho gently guides you to the opposite wall.
Sticking out his hand, an axe comes flying off of the wall from higher up. It spins in the air as it travels the short distance to his hand, the dark silver of the single edged blade glinting in the light. There seems to be a smaller blade protruding from the opposite side of the handle, acting as a continuation of the main blade on the other side.
The instant it touches Jongho’s hand, your eyes are widening as another gasp escapes you. The veins of gold carved into the blade stand out starkly against the darkness of the silver. The wooden handle is slightly curved, the blade itself covering almost half of the length of the wood.
“No way you made Kratos’ Leviathan Axe.” Your voice holds nothing but awed disbelief as you look over every inch of that axe Jongho holds out for you. “And you can summon it to your hands like he can in the game?”
“We can summon all of our weapons to our hands like that, My Love.” Hongjoong chuckles, eyebrows raising in amusement as he sees the glare Jongho sends him for stealing his thunder.
“How does it work?” You spare a glance at all of them around the room.
“Usually just requires a drop of our blood and a binding spell.” Seonghwa explains.
“So, that’s how you can make your weapons appear out of thin air?” You ask, wonderstruck. “Not cause you’re doing something like reaching through realms, or into a pocket of space?”
Yunho chuckles, along with Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Mingi.
“No, Petal,” he grins fondly at your curious expression. “Unfortunately we cannot do that, but it is how we are able to summon our weapons to us instantly.”
“Does it work on other things, too?” You inquire, nearly dropping the axe in your excitement as Jongho hands it to you.
“It works on anything we bind ourselves to in that way.” Mingi confirms.
“So, if you wanted to summon each other?” You tilt your head slightly as you finally get a good grip on the handle of the axe. “It’d be different than your transportation thingy?”
“Slightly.” Hongjoong confirms. “Think of it as a mere aspect of our teleportation.”
“But still different than a proper summoning spell.” Yeosang adds.
You nod, spinning that axe slowly in your hands as you look over the detail work.
“Would it work in battle?” You glance upwards. “If you ever needed to save each other from a killing blow? Or if one of you needed back up?”
“Normally, we’d just use our teleportation for that.” Mingi shrugs, leaning against an open part of the wall.
“That’s fair,” you hum, eyes shifting their focus back to the axe in your hands.
Where the gems would normally reside, you’ve noticed two other small jewels in their place. One is an opal, and the other is your own birthstone. A fact of which makes you smile, for you know both are meant to represent you and Jongho.
“With this summoning thing, is it automatic if you think of the item?” You hand Jongho the axe back, not wanting to risk damaging it right now as your curiosity is getting the better of you.
“It’s practically second nature to us now.” Wooyoung confirms with a nod. “The closer the object, the easier it is to summon it.”
“That makes sense.” You nod, eyes catching on another intricately carved axe for the moment. “Oh!”
The blade is hollowed in some areas, giving a sort of skeleton design to the metal. It’s intricately carved, the design looking more for style than functionality. However, you know that it’s more than likely made out of that Sage Metal that they told you about earlier. The axe is more than durable, and certainly functional.
“This is beautiful,” you breathe, tracing the spaces in the metal lightly with your index finger. Of course, you make sure not to touch the edges of the metal, not wanting to cut yourself on accident. Who knows how they would react to that.
“Not as beautiful as you.” Jongho whispers lowly into your ear as he steps up behind you, wrapping you in his arms.
A snort of laughter escapes you, lips parting in disbelief.
“Oh, Baby Bear,” you chuckle lowly, shaking your head. “Please don’t say such cringy things to me. You’re more suave than that.”
You don’t have to look at him to see the giant pout Jongho now wears on his features, only deepened by the laughter of his brothers.
“Oh, can it.” He turns to them, a frown on his features. “You were all thinking it, too.”
Again, you shake your head, lovingly this time. “What am I going to do with all of you?”
Wooyoung slides right up to your side, pulling you out of Jongho’s embrace and into his own. Carefully, he begins leading you back to the door.
“Love us unconditionally for all eternity?” There’s a hint of hope in his eyes, swirling within that all too familiar admiration and adoration you’ve become so used to from him. 
From all of them.
You hum, pretending to think about it for a moment. You stop just before the closed door, sparing a glance around at all of them briefly.
You smile lovingly, “That can be arranged.”
Low hums of content greet your ears as you reach forward to open the door. You do not need to look at them to know that they are gazing at you with nothing but a tender fondness in their eyes right now. You can feel it surrounding you as you step through the door, flooding your veins and comforting you right down to your very core.
Their unspoken response rings loud and clear through your mind, despite your void still being up. There is no doubt in your mind that they will do the same: love you unconditionally for all eternity. They’ve already proven, in more ways than one, that they do.
The moment you refocus in on the room surrounding you, your eyes catch on bottles upon bottles lining the shelves built into every free inch of the walls of this room. Various colourful liquids reside inside, some even appearing to glow with how vibrantly they shine beneath the lights. Small vials rest beside them, and you think you know what rests inside those.
Understanding flashes across your features and you turn to Wooyoung who practically shakes in excitement beside you.
“So, which one is the deadliest?” You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips twitching upwards.
A giddy smile stretches across his features, which then slowly morphs into a sly smirk, “No hesitation, huh, Angel?”
“I’m curious,” You shrug, nonchalantly.
He hums, “It’s just over here.”
Leading you over to a wall with the darkest liquids residing on the shelves, Wooyoung lifts his free hand. Instantly, a bottle of the blackest void comes rushing to his fingers, thick in texture and hardly sloshing around inside its container. Faintly, you swear you can hear hissing coming from his hand.
“There is no toxin more deadly than my own creations.” He tells you. “This one, though, is the worst.”
“Are you immune?” You glance up at him, a curious glint in your eyes.
“I’m immune to every poison you can imagine, and then some.” He hums, that grin still tugging at his features as he hands you the bottle of that thick black liquid. “But I always have antidotes close at hand.”
He motions around him to the small vials resting beside the bottles.
“We’re not as immune as he is to some of his creations.” Jongho grumbles, his arms crossed over his chest.
“But most of them, you are?” You spare a glance at the rest of them standing over by the door.
“That would be correct, My Love.” Hongjoong nods. “His most deadly, he’s made sure we’re immune to.”
“It’s considerate, considering the amount of times he’s used us as guinea pigs for new concoctions.” San grumbles, narrowing his eyes pointedly at Wooyoung.
You turn your head back to the aforementioned male who seemingly shrinks slightly in his spot.
“You guys volunteer.” He mumbles.
“Yeah,” Yunho rolls his eyes playfully. “That’s cause we never actually know what we’re signing up for.”
“It’s not my fault you all have different side effects than what I intend sometimes!” Wooyoung counters, a large pout pulling at his features. “It’s not like it’s intentional.”
“Sometimes, I feel like it is.” Yeosang states, rather pointedly.
“I don’t know,” you hum. “Isn’t the point of vaccines to inject some of the original virus or disease into your body so you know how to fight off the living cells, were they to enter your system?”
“See. At least My Angel understands my methods!” Wooyoung perks back up, tightening the hold of his one arm that rests around your waist. “There’s a whole process! You can’t just be immune. It’s not in your blood!”
“And it’s in yours?” San’s brow quirks knowingly.
“Actually, yes. It is.” Wooyoung states, rather proudly. “Most of my poisons contain some aspect of my blood in them, whether diluted or pure. That’s why they can be so toxic.”
“That’s really cool!” You chime in, having way too much fun watching the thick liquid slide around in the bottle every time you tip it upside down.
“So, there!” Wooyoung sticks his tongue out playfully at his brothers.
“Are there any kinds of toxins you’ve made that have a different effect than just poisoning the victim?” You turn your attention back to Wooyoung. “You know, like paralysis, or something?”
“Do I ever!” Wooyoung practically bounces on his feet as he leads you to the opposite wall. “This one-“ he points to a bright pink liquid, “is similar to a sleeping drought, but too much will cause the heart to stop for any living thing.”
You nod, staring intently at the bottle in front of you.
“This one-“ he points to an almost transparent green liquid, “causes your muscles to seize and inflicts unbearable pain throughout the body. Great for immobilizing people, but not quite paralysis in it’s literal sense.”
“Oh, wow.” You observe said liquid carefully.
“I also have certain tonics that effect emotions, a person’s state of mind or being, as well as ones that can essentially put people into either a comatose state, or loosen their tongue if we need a ‘physical’ way to gather information for assassinations.” He explains.
“So, you have truth telling serums?” Your brow quirks, the corner of your lips twitching upwards.
“I have any and every type of tonic you can think of.” Wooyoung nods, quite proudly at that.
You nod, eyes never leaving that shelf in front of you.
“So, then,” you begin. “Which is a stronger aphrodisiac? Your blood, or one of your tonics?”
The sound of shattering glass sounds behind you, and you turn to see Seonghwa and Mingi both cursing to themselves. Bottles, or what’s left of them, lay broken at their feet, the sound of hissing greeting your ears as liquid seeps over the ground.
“Careful with those,” Wooyoung waves his hand, cleaning the mess in an instant. “Some mixtures are deadly, even to us, if cross contaminated with each other.”
“We’ll just make sure to knock into the non-fragile glass bottles, next time.” Seonghwa grumbles, wiping off the front of his shirt rather harshly.
“Glass bottles are the most effective containers for acidic poisons, especially if reinforced by magic.” Wooyoung states, matter of factly.
“But they can still shatter on impact with the floor.” Jongho quirks a brow, matter of factly.
“You win some, you lose some.” Wooyoung shrugs, before turning his attention back to you for the moment. “To answer your question, Angel, it would be this one right here.” A bottle with a liquid as clear as day is instantly in his one hand. “This is the strongest aphrodisiac we own, besides our blood.”
“Oh?” Your lips twitch upwards in the corner, brow quirking. “So, they’re on par with one another, then?”
“Not quite,” Wooyoung’s eyes begin to swirl with that all too familiar darkness. “This is just a little stronger, since it’s undiluted in that sense.”
You hum, “Interesting.”
“Why?” San’s voice, low and gravelly reaches your ears as his hooded gaze meets your own. “Want to give it a try?”
All eight sets of eyes are on you in an instant, darkness swirling within.
You smirk, “Perhaps some other time.”
Eight low growls reach your ears as you walk back over to the door. You can feel the weight of their heated stares on you, even as you glance towards them from over your shoulder.
“Shall we?” You drawl out, a teasing flick to your brows.
Yunho seems to be the first to recompose himself, quickly moving over to you and placing his hand onto the skin of your upper back. Gently, he guides you through the door, clearing his throat all the while.
“I don’t tend to use many weapons, so my storehouse is a bit of the miscellaneous designs we keep for the occasional use.” He explains. “I do tend to like shredding things, whether physical, or mental, though.”
Again, your eyes light up as you take in the various unconventional designs around you. You can tell they’ve experimented with multiple angles and materials, each weapon given certain liberties over the rest. Everything from large hammers to thin whips with metal spikes attached to them line the walls, allowing you to see the various techniques they all know how to use in battle depending on the weapon.
Serrated blades, tools, saws, and even some scythes and rifles also line the walls.
Your brow quirks at the cage of guns off to the side.
“For our assassinations, mainly.” Yunho is quick to tell you, to which you’re immediately nodding your head in understanding.
“Who’s the best sniper?” You turn to them, looking over each male individually.
“Seonghwa and Hongjoong are amazing.” Wooyoung immediately boasts, a proud smile tugging at his lips.
“Really, we’ve got nothing on Mingi, though.” Hongjoong says, averting his gaze somewhat bashfully as red creeps up his neck.
At Seonghwa’s nod in agreement, you turn to the aforementioned male. Lightly, a grin pulls at the corner of your lips.
You let Mingi in.
I always knew you were way cooler than James Bond. You meet his gaze with an affectionate look of your own. Definitely proves it.
Mingi giggles, brushing tenderly against your mind with his own as his eyes crinkle at the sides.
You turn back to the main wall of weapons. “You all contribute to this stockade, or is it more trial and error?”
“A little bit of both.” San says, the others nodding in agreement. “Sometimes we even get certain materials from our friends that we play around with when creating weapons.”
At this, your brow quirks.
“Well, sometimes we aren’t simply given things.” Wooyoung chuckles. “Like when Jongho used the teeth from the snakes of the last gorgon leader to make a tiny mace.”
Jongho simply glares at Wooyoung in response.
“Not going to lie, that’s pretty cool.” You reply, nonchalantly. “Do you guys have any transforming weapons?”
“Mingi made the Beastcutter from Bloodborne.” Seonghwa comments casually.
Your jaw drops. “You did not.”
The second Mingi sticks his hand out, a weapon flies off of the wall. Sure enough, holding it out to you reveals it to be a life-size replica of the Beastcutter from Bloodborne.
“Holy shit.” There is no hiding the awe in your eyes as he passes it to you, you giggling like a maniac soon after.
“If I recall, Mingi’s made a lot of replicas of From Soft weapons.” Yeosang adds, humming lightly to himself.
“You have?” That awe filled gaze of yours is back on Mingi, who’s neck begins to turn bright red as he nods. “That’s incredible!”
He lifts a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “It’s nothing.”
“Moonlight, I wish you wouldn’t downplay your skills sometimes.” You comment, patting his arm affectionately. Then, you’re practically bouncing on your feet as the Beastcutter is returned to its original spot. “Now, show me, show me, show me!”
Mingi chuckles lowly, “Of course, Starlight.” He leads you back to the door, his arm gently finding purchase around your waist. “Right this way.”
Carefully, Mingi guides you through the door and into his own storehouse of weapons, his brothers following closely behind. The sound of the door shutting is synonymous with your gasp, your eyes practically shining as you take in the sets of weapons lining the walls, mainly consisting of dual blades.
At one particular set that is bright red, the edges of the blades artfully chipped, a dramatic gasp escapes you.
“No way!” You point at the blades, scurrying over to them while hopping around on your feet. “You made the Rivers of Blood from Elden Ring into a two sword set?”
“I had to compromise a bit on length, but the design is the same.” He shrugs, plucking them off of the wall and giving them each a spin in his hands.
You practically swoon as a result. “Somebody pinch me, I’m in heaven.”
Low chuckles resound around the room, each male loving how your excitement never seems to cease for even one moment. The fact that Mingi continues to captivate you currently by performing small tricks with the blades has them beaming. Though, a few, such as Hongjoong, Jongho, and Seonghwa, all wish it were them that were impressing you in such a way instead.
Again, Mingi chuckles, placing the Rivers of Blood back in their spot before pulling two other katanas off of the wall. They also seem familiar to you, though you can’t seem to figure out why.
“I dubbed these ones my Deadpool set.” Mingi explains with a grin, giving them each a spin in his hands.
“I was wondering why they looked so familiar,” You hum, nodding slightly. “If you pull out the Blades of Chaos next, I might need to sit down.”
The grin Mingi wears is nothing short of gleeful as he replaces the katanas on the wall. In a blink, he holds out his hands, chains wrapping around his forearms before a dual set of particularly carved blades appear held in his grip.
You physically feel your legs give out beneath you, a hand coming up to press against your forehead as you fall backwards.
Luckily, Yunho appears just in time to catch you.
“I’m dreaming.” You mutter lowly, nothing but awe in your voice. “This is a dream, and I’m in heaven.”
More fond chuckles greet your ears.
“It’s a shame the blades are more for show than anything,” Mingi somewhat pouts. “Still worth seeing every one of your reactions, though, Starlight.”
“Oh, yeah, I heard something about them being impractical in real life cause of the chains or something.” You manage to right yourself on your feet, affectionately patting Yunho’s hands which he keeps wrapped around your waist. “The blades could still be effective on their own, though. Can they not?”
The grin that stretches across Mingi’s face says it all.
“Now, if you go around bathing them in fire as you use them, I might faint for real.” You comment casually.
His eyebrow quirks, “Promise?”
“You want me to faint?” You snort out a laugh.
“If it’s from something cool that I’ve done,” Mingi shrugs, storing the blades back in their place. “Why not?”
“Touché.” You hum, sparing another glance around the room. Your eyes catch briefly on a set of blades, curved to resemble human spines. You smile. “Seriously guys, this is incredible.”
“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest.” Yeosang smiles, nothing but tender fondness reflected in his eyes.
“Like I said, this is one of the best days of my life.” You breathe out. “I’ve always had a fascination with different types of weapons since I was small. It’s nice not having to hide my excitement about them anymore. Especially about ones that I long since thought could only be used in fictional settings, or for cosplay.”
“Hearing you rant and rave about certain styles of weapons when we watch those…” Jongho grimaces slightly, irritation shining briefly on his features, “Let’s Players, sticks with us, you know.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Jacksepticeye, Baby Bear.” You quirk a brow.
At the few grumbles you hear, you begin to laugh.
“You seem to be overtly fond of him.” Hongjoong mutters lowly.
You shrug. “He’s funny.”
Low growls sound from Yeosang, Mingi, San, and Seonghwa.
“Again, just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean I don’t.” You remind them.
“That’s the problem, Angel.” Wooyoung mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The fact I find him entertaining?” You quirk a brow, noticing how they remain quiet for the most part. “Wait, is this why you all started playing God of War and Bloodborne? So, I wouldn’t watch his play-throughs anymore?”
“No.” Jongho answers, much too quickly.
“We also needed to get better insight of the weapons when making them.” Mingi says, matter of factly.
A smack is given to the elder male from the youngest as you stare at them knowingly. Then, your eyes seemingly glaze over, deep in thought.
“You said you make weapons out of materials sometimes gifted to you from others, right?” Your brow is furrowed as you step out of Yunho’s embrace, much to the male’s discontent.
“That’s correct.” Yeosang confirms.
You hum to yourself, beginning to pace back and forth as your mind reels.
“How strong are dragon teeth?” You pause, lifting your head to spare a glance at all of them.
Understanding flashes behind their eyes.
“They are extremely durable and versatile, My Divine.” Seonghwa replies, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Some of the strongest bones in all the realms. Other than their horns, of course.”
“And baby dragon’s teeth?” You quirk a brow.
“Not as durable, but strong all the same.” Yunho confirms.
Again, you hum, shifting to face Hongjoong. “Can I see Mon’s teeth for a moment?”
By the time you’ve extended your hands, Hongjoong has that green cloth placed upon your palms. You turn just in time to see a wooden table appear beside you, the guys all moving in to stand around it as you work.
Carefully, you unwrap the package that is Mon’s baby teeth. Once you have that cloth covering the main portion of the table, you begin arranging them in a particular pattern. Slowly, a triangle begins to form, Mon’s teeth outlining the shape.
“Our conversation just now gave me an idea,” you begin, righting yourself so you’re no longer hunched over the table. “A bit literal for serrated teeth, but I think it works well.”
A gentle hand is placed onto your lower spine curtesy of Mingi. Sparing a glance at him reveals his lips to be tugging upwards into a proud smile.
“I don’t know how the logistics will work, but if you can make the Beastcutter, then I’m sure you can make a Saw Spear,” You meet Mingi’s gaze. “No?”
A pride swirls behind his gaze, his chest puffing out the slightest bit. “I think that can be arranged.”
The smile that takes over your features lights up the entire room, excitement pouring off of you in waves. “Really?”
“Most definitely.” San confirms with a nod. “We can all help with this one.”
“You’d all really do this for me?” You spare a glance at all of them, noticing how tenderly they look at you.
“Of course!” Wooyoung confirms eagerly. “It’s not every day Our Queen asks us to make her her own weapon.”
You share an excited giggle.
“Listen, I want to be able to have something to call my own,” you grin. “Preferably not just a bat. I’m not sure how intimidating our enemies will find me only wielding a weapon like that.”
“Believe me, Baby,” San chuckles. “You’re plenty intimidating with a bat.”
“So I’ve heard.” You smile slyly.
“We could make you a personalized bat, too, Dearest.” Yeosang offers. “Anything and everything your heart desires, know that it’s yours.”
Lifting your head to meet his gaze, your eyes crinkle as your smile morphs into a loving one. 
“How about we start with this for now?” You say softly. “I’m sure I’ll think of more when the time comes. Believe me when I say there’s no shortages of weapon’s designs in my mind. But for now, there’s still two more main storehouses to see, and I’d also love to see a forge if there’s time. I am getting hungry.”
“Well then,” Yunho nods, noticing how his brothers all wear the same look of affection spreading across his face in this moment. “What are we waiting for?”
Leaving Mon’s teeth laid out on the table at their request, you walk back over to the door. This time, it’s Hongjoong that opens it, stepping through to hold it as you follow shortly behind.
If you’re being honest with yourself, his and Seonghwa’s rooms are the ones you’re most anticipating. Long since have you fantasized about what their own blades will look like, and now, you find your whole body shaking with excitement as you step through the threshold.
The instant you see the wall of daggers before you, a loud gasp escapes you. Your hands come up to cover your mouth, eyes flitting all over the weapons on display before you. Everything from ceremonial daggers, to jewelled blades rest before you in an array of designs. There even seems to be a small display case in front of the main wall with a dagger inside, resting upon a cushion. It looks familiar to you, and as you get closer, you realize why.
There seems to be a blade missing from the set, but you say nothing. Still, you cannot help but to zero in on that cushion, noting the slight indent where the second dagger should reside.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Hongjoong stiffen, but you opt to say nothing for now.
Sets of throwing knives line the one wall, some collections housing upwards of twenty blades. You take the time to observe everything, walking slowly around the room and taking it all in. Each blade manages to take your breath away, your heart racing erratically in your chest as excitement courses through your veins.
Hongjoong, you notice, still remains unusually quiet. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks nervous, especially when you glance towards that display case in front of the main wall every now and again.
Turning to the others, you smile lightly, “Do you mind giving us a minute?”
A few quirked brows are sent your way in response, but they comply, nonetheless.
“We’ll meet you in your storeroom, okay, Mars?” You catch his gaze, noticing how he nods in understanding as soon as the words escape you.
Slowly, you watch as they all step through the door, and only once you see it fall shut, the small click resounding throughout the room, do you turn back to face Hongjoong.
There’s an almost reserved look in his eyes as he avoids your gaze. Slowly, he shifts from foot to foot, his hands clasped in front of himself.
Your expression falls.
Silently, you approach him, gently lifting his hands into your own.
“What’s wrong, My Love?” Your inquiry is soft, giving his hands a small squeeze in order to coax him to meet your eyes.
He’s unusually silent as he shakes his head, staring intently at your intertwined hands.
Normally, this room is a huge sense of pride for him. However, as soon as he saw you glance the display case with only the one dagger inside, his heart plummeted. Selfishly, he kept it there in its spot because he could not bring himself to get rid of it. Now though, he fears he made the wrong call, for that pillar acts as a stark reminder of every misdeed he’s ever performed. That case stands almost mockingly; a tombstone that could have been yours.
“Hongjoong,” Worry pulls at your brow as you lift a hand up to guide his gaze to yours. Tenderly, your thumb brushes against his cheek. “You’re unusually quiet right now, and I’m extremely concerned. I thought you’d be ecstatic to show me your collection today.”
He purses his lips, and you can see a hint of fear flash behind his eyes.
“Is this about the set of daggers in that case?” Your tone is nothing but gentle.
The way he stiffens beneath your touch says it all.
The way that you can tell that this is affecting him negatively has your heart squeezing painfully in your chest. It’s clear to you that Miyeon still has her claws buried deep within his guilt, and all you want to do is reassure him as best you can in this moment. Only, you’re not quite sure how.
“They were-“ he clears his throat of the roughness that resides in his voice, “They were meant to be ours.”
Your gaze shifts to the small display case where that lone blade sits.
“The daggers,” You breathe.
He nods. “I made them for us.”
You squeeze his one hand once more, gently guiding him over to the display case so you can get a closer look.
Still, he refuses to so much as glance at that singular dagger.
“I wanted that one to be yours, and the other to be mine, but she-“ his voice hitches, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t think I could ever look at my dagger the same way again. Not after what she did to you with it. Yet, I can’t bring myself to destroy the set. It held so much meaning to me when I made them, that I just-”
He doesn’t finish his thought. Instead, his shoulders droop and he turns the slightest bit away from you.
Shame weighs heavy on his shoulders, regret adding its toll.
You take a moment to observe the dagger in the case. It’s certainly familiar, but you notice slight discrepancies to the one you’ve already seen. This dagger’s blade is slightly thinner, the handle carved in the opposite direction to its matching pair. You can tell that they’re meant to be put together. A set, never to be separated.
“I’m glad you didn’t.” You turn to him, and your words finally draw a reaction from him. “Destroy them, I mean.”
“My Love?” There’s clear surprise on his features, not having expected you to say anything along those lines.
If Hongjoong is being honest with himself, he expected you to start cursing him out for not getting rid of the very weapon that caused you such harm. He was certain that you’d be screaming at him, asking him why he would keep such vile weapons around after what they did to you.
To say your tender look of affection shocks him would be a great understatement.
“You still have the other dagger, then?” You ask him softly, rubbing your thumb tenderly over the back of his hand.
Slowly, albeit hesitantly, he nods.
“May I see it?” The question is gentle in all meaning of the sense, making sure to keep your voice low as you look at him with kind eyes.
A moment’s hesitation before he nods. Then, he has the other dagger in his free hand, holding the handle out for you to take.
Meeting his gaze, you smile assuringly at him. Maintaining eye contact, you gently slip that dagger out of his hold, gripping it firmly in your one hand. Only then do you spare a glance down at one of the weapons that had caused you such pain all those long weeks ago.
Just as you thought, this one is slightly bigger, the blade both a little thicker and longer in length.
“This one was meant to be yours?” You lift your gaze to his, noticing how intently he watches you in this very moment.
He nods.
You let your intertwined hands fall to rest in the space between your bodies, letting them sway gently back and forth.
“Will you hold onto mine?” There’s nothing but a hopeful gleam to your eyes as you watch him nod.
Slowly, he unlocks the case. Once the glass is opened, he lifts your dagger out with the utmost of care, holding it delicately in his hand. The way that he’s standing perfectly mirrors you in every way, and you cannot help the small upturn of your lips at that fact.
“Hongjoong, I wish to keep these daggers together,” you begin. At the way you see his lips part in protest, you’re quick to continue, “She was the one who used it to hurt me, not you. I know for a fact that you would rather carve out your own heart than bring me any harm. Your dagger didn’t hurt me. She did.”
The hitch in his breath is audible, even to you.
“I know you may not have intended it this way, but I wish to keep this one as my own.” You lift the dagger in your hand slightly. “And I wish for you to use that one. Let me reclaim the weapon that was used to hurt me, and know that it is meant to symbolize your undying loyalty and protection. Let me wield you in battle, just as you will wield me when the time comes.”
The way your eyes flash over to that dagger held in his hand as you speak those words says it all.
“These daggers are for us, meant to protect each other.” You state, rather firmly. “I think it’s time we allow them the proper use. Don’t you?”
He swallows thickly, his lips parting as tears line his eyes. He squeezes your hand.
“Yes,” he breathes, nodding his head once quite firmly. He blinks, and the first of his tears begin to fall down his cheeks. “Yes, My Queen. Always.”
Softly, you smile at him, guiding him into your embrace as he buries his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his sobs wracking his body as he holds onto you tightly, clinging to you both for dear life, but also in gratitude for what this moment means to the both of you. No longer will you allow Miyeon to control either of you. It’s time to reclaim that which has been stolen. All of it.
Pulling away from him slightly, you stare deeply into his eyes. The corners of your lips tug upwards in a loving smile, and you manage to brush some stray hairs out of his eyes.
“I am so deeply in love with you, My King.” There is no waver in your voice as you say this, pouring every ounce of sincerity that you can into your words. “Know that nothing will ever change that.”
“My Queen,” The words are but a whisper on his lips as he pulls you tighter against him. “Thank you, for believing in me.”
The smile you offer him says it all, nothing but tender love and affection shining within your gaze as you lean forward to kiss him gently. A kiss which he is all too eager to reciprocate, letting the movement of his lips over your own tell you of all the ways in which he loves you. The ways in which he will always love you, and appreciate all that you mean to him.
All too soon, you’re pulling away in order to rest your forehead on his.
“The daggers are beautiful, My Love,” Your words are but a soft caress against his lips. “Thank you for keeping them as one.”
Hongjoong manages a small smile in response. “I am simply happy you like them, My Queen.”
“I love them, Joongie.” Your reply is immediate, pulling the slightest bit back from him to admire the detailing on the handles once more. “It means a lot to me that you made them for us.”
“Of course, My Love,” Gently, he returns them both to their spots on top of the cushion inside the display. He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again. In a soft voice, he admits, “I made them the day I knew I wanted you to become Our Queen.” He turns to you, eyes holding nothing but love for you swirling within that familiar darkness. “My Queen.”
Your expression softens, “All the more reason to keep them, and use them as you’ve always intended.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He chuckles lowly, offering you his hand as he steps in beside you.
Without any hesitation, you place your hand in his.
“I am curious, though,” you hum. “Did you keep the other one? The jewelled one from David’s shop?”
A blink, and that familiar dagger is in his free hand.
Your eyes go wide, a thrum of excitement going through you.
“I think it’s time it was given back to the woman who always deserved it,” He grins, a knowing glint in his eyes as he holds out the handle for you to take. “Don’t you?”
Eagerly, you nod your head, reaching out to take that dagger into your free hand.
You take a moment to look it over, twirling that blade in your grip lightly. A small smile rests on your features, eyes sparkling as you finally grasp the handle firmly in your hand.
Little do you see how fondly Hongjoong watches over you in this very moment. Though, from the way you lift your head to meet his gaze, you manage to catch the very look resting on his features.
“Thank you, Joongie,” You lean in to place an affectionate kiss upon his cheek. “This truly means a lot to me.”
“Your happiness means the world to me, My Love.” Hongjoong smiles, giving your one hand still held in his a small squeeze. “I’m simply glad you can finally have everything you’ve always desired.”
“It’s because of you, you know.” You turn to face him just as you reach the door. “I’ve only been able to achieve this because of you. Because of all of you.”
Hongjoong’s heart warms, and he leans in to place a lingering kiss upon your forehead. “Then, how wonderful it will be to spend the rest of eternity with one another.”
Your own heart swells with nothing but happiness, “How wonderful indeed.”
With a final squeeze of your intwined hands, you exit the room.
The moment you step into Seonghwa’s own weapon’s hold, you’re greeted by chaos. Both him and Mingi appear to be sparring with some of his swords, while Yeosang chases both San and Wooyoung around with a sword of his own. Yunho stands off to the side with Jongho, both males shaking their heads with their arms crossed over their chests.
“Did I miss something?” You quirk a brow playfully, successfully drawing their attention to both you and Hongjoong standing just inside the threshold of the door.
“Wooyoung and San were being smartasses, as usual.” Jongho shakes his head once more.
“Hey!” Said males whine at the same time.
“Then, why was Yeosang chasing you with- oh my god, is that Major General Armstrong’s sword?” You practically shove Wooyoung out of the way to take the sword from Yeosang’s grip. 
Unfortunately, you fail to miss the large pout that now pulls onto Hongjoong’s features as you essentially leave him in the dust in order to observe this new sword. Nor do you see the pout that Wooyoung wears as he looks to you with large, pleading eyes.
With your dagger held in your one hand, and the sword in the other, you take in the detailing of the metal. The floral design engraved on the length of the blade takes your breath away, and you begin shaking in excitement once more.
Then, you’re nodding to yourself almost subconsciously, “Very beautiful. Very powerful.”
“I’m glad you like it, My Divine.” Seonghwa chuckles affectionately, coming to stand beside you as the others return to their respective spots near the door. “Come, there’s plenty more where that came from.”
Lifting your gaze, Seonghwa cannot deny the hitch in his breath as he sees your wondrous expression light up your features. The awe alone he can see says it all.
He swallows thickly.
Handing him the sword back, you finally take in the other blades residing on the surrounding walls.
“No way you have a wall full of just katanas- are those Zoro’s?” Another squeal leaves you as you rush over, gazing intently at the multiple swords lined up in a row.
Sure enough, upon closer inspection, the katanas in front of you correspond to the multiple ones Zoro has used throughout the course of One Piece.
“Seriously, I’m in heaven.” You sigh, dreamily.
Low chuckles sound from behind you, and you can feel all of their fond gaze on you as you dart around the room.
“No way!” A dramatic gasp escapes you as a particular blade catches your eye from across the room. “You made Sting?”
Just as you did with Yeosang’s bow in the first room, you go to reach out for it. Only, you hesitate, not sure if you should actually touch these weapons or not.
“Go ahead, My Divine,” Seonghwa chuckles, stepping in right beside you and placing a loving hand onto the skin of your lower back. “Please, don’t hold back.”
Practically shoving the dagger in your hands in his direction, you silently tell him to hold onto the jewelled blade while you lift Sting carefully off its display. Nothing but wonder resides in your gaze as you take in the detail work of the craftsmanship. The blade is unusually light, too, just as described in the book.
“If you tell me that this blade can also glow blue, I can and will faint right now.” You lift your gaze to his own, excitement pouring off of you in waves.
A soft chuckle falls from Seonghwa’s lips, “We’ll have to go visit some orcs, then.”
Your lips part, eyes widening as you visibly begin to shake. Not even a moment later, you’re zooming around the room, muttering to yourself about this being the best day of your life once more.
Hopping around the storehouse, you take in the rest of the swords lining the walls. You cannot keep the smile off of your face, almost subconsciously muttering a tune to yourself as you browse the selection of weapons before you.
“Oh, the wonders of weapons,” you hum, no longer paying any mind to the eight other males in the room, of whom watch you fondly. “The wonders of weapons of Kings.” You giggle. “My Lovely Kings.” 
They smile.
“My lovers are eight powerful, demonic Kings.” Your voice is low, but they still hear you loud and clear. A fact of which sets their hearts racing inside of their chests. “And I’m their One and Only Queen.”
Eight low growls of approval sound from behind you. Sparingly, you glance over your shoulder, offering them each a blissful smile.
“Today is a most wonderful day.” You continue to hum to yourself, bouncing around on the soles of your feet from one spot to another. “Spending it with the people I love.”
Rumbles of content fill the room, and you bound over to the eight of them with a vibrant smile lighting up your face. You take the time to give each one of them a kiss on the cheek, muttering how much you love them each time you do. A sentiment which is immediately echoed by each male as soon as you address them individually.
Still, you cannot prevent yourself from rocking excitedly on your feet as you see the large, dopey grins they offer you in return.
“Thank you.” You take the time to meet all of their gazes. “For today. For everything.” Your heart swells in your chest. “You all seriously don’t know how happy you make me.”
“The feeling is very much mutual, Petal.” Yunho hums, the same warmth that is currently flooding his chest heard clearly in his voice as he addresses you.
“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest.” Yeosang adds, clasping his hands almost lovingly in front of himself as he gazes at you fondly.
You nod, vigorously at that. “Can I see one of your forges, now?”
“Of course, My Divine.” Seonghwa extends his free hand out to you, your dagger still held tightly in his opposite hand.
“Oh, thanks for holding onto that for me, Mars.” You reach over, taking your dagger back from him as he walks you both over to the door. “I-“
Your words die in your throat as the door opens to reveal a grandiose space. There’s a large wooden table that lines the one wall, the forge worked into the opposite corner. A floor to ceiling window resides near the forge itself, displaying a beautiful field with mountains in the distance. Hardly any clouds line the sky, the sun shining and illuminating the space all around.
Various weapons line the room, stacked on top of each other or resting against the wall where various tools and materials hang. There even seems to be a closet off to the side, which you would bet anything houses even more weapons that are currently being worked on, or have even been finished.
“Wow,” You breathe out, nothing but wonder on your features as you take it all in.
Carefully, you place your dagger onto the top of the wooden table off to the side, spinning around a few times to take in the full room around you. Seonghwa, of course, gives you enough space to do so, watching you with such a tender look in his eyes.
“Do all of your workshops look the same?” You turn to face them.
“More, or less.” Jongho tilts his head slightly from side to side. “Some of our tools vary due to the types of weapons we forge, but the setup is pretty much identical.”
“That’s so cool!” You say, awe clear in your voice.
“If you peek through the window, you can actually see the outlines of all of our forges in the hills.” Yunho motions with his head for you to take a look.
Instantly, you’re at the window, eyes scanning the area to see multiple windows buried seemingly inside the hills just outside.
“Woah,” You turn back around to face them. “That must come in handy when you need to borrow things from each other while welding.”
“It is quite convenient.” Mingi nods in confirmation. “Especially if one of the others has a material you need while crafting.”
“I can imagine.” You hum, eyes flitting over the table and taking in all of the little trinkets scattered about.
There seems to be a whetting stone placed near the corner, some scraps of black leather cut into pieces along the top. Some tools rest here and there, but for the most part, the space is clean.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Hongjoong nudge Seonghwa with his elbow.
You quirk a brow.
Seonghwa clears his throat.,“Actually, I have two things I wish to give you, My Divine.”
“You do?” There’s nothing but wonder in your tone as you watch him move around his workspace.
For a brief moment, Seonghwa enters that little closet at the side of the room. When he comes back, both of his hands are held behind his back.
You blink, curiosity getting the better of you as you attempt to see what he could be hiding.
“This one, we all agreed on a long time ago.” He says, sharing a brief look around the room at his brothers who all smile softly at you in response. “I reinforced it, so it no longer has to be simply decorative. Unless you desire it to be.”
In one swift movement, Seonghwa pulls his right hand out from behind his back. A familiar silver sword rests there, jewels glinting in the light.
The gasp that escapes you is immediate as you see the matching sword to that dagger you had placed on his work table resting in his hand.
Ever so carefully, you reach forward, taking that sword from his grip as your eyes shine with nothing but love.
“My Kings?” You glance around at all of them, noticing how they all stare at you the exact same way you’re looking at them.
“Anything and everything your heart could ever desire, Angel,” Wooyoung whispers. “It’s yours.”
“I-“ you swallow thickly, admiring that sword now held in your hands. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, My Love,” Hongjoong smiles assuringly at you. “Know that we will always provide for you, in whatever ways that we can.”
“We love spoiling you, Baby,” San adds softly. “Knowing these are things that you’ve always wanted… well… it means a lot to us to see you happy; to make you happy.”
Your lips part, but no words escape you.
“Just let us take care of you.” Yeosang voices lowly, all seven of them nodding along to his words.
Again, you swallow the emotions building in your throat. Your grip tightens on that pommel in your hands, and you manage to blink away your building tears of joy.
“Thank you.” You take your time to meet each of their gazes. “I mean it. You all never fail to go above and beyond for me, and I will always cherish these moments, these gifts, more than you’ll ever know.”
Their smiles widen, hearts beating erratically in their chests.
“We’re just love seeing you happy, Starlight.” Mingi repeats San’s words from only moments ago, nothing but sincerity shining within all of their eyes.
“I still have one more sword to gift you, today, My Divine.” Suddenly, Seonghwa looks the slightest bit more nervous as he stands before you. “That is, if you’ll have it.”
“My Mars,” you hum, affection dripping from your gaze, “You could gift me a wooden sword, and I would cherish it until the end of time.”
Teasingly, Seonghwa’s eyes narrow as he spares a glance around the room. “Alright, who told?”
Almost instantly, Jongho starts whistling inconspicuously while San, Wooyoung, and Mingi all avoid Seonghwa’s gaze.
You giggle, and like every time before, it is music to every single one of their ears.
“It took me quite a few tries,” he begins, keeping his voice low and tone steady, “But I had to make sure it was perfect.”
In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa presents you with the other sword he had been holding behind his back this whole time. He rests it carefully over his palms, holding it out to you with loving eyes as he watches your every reaction carefully.
The sheath is easily recognizable to you, the leather strap wrapped meticulously around it just as it is when the sword gets presented in the movie. The handle is every bit as gorgeous as you remember, the black leather wrapping around the pommel perfectly placed as the worked silver glints in the light.
Without taking your eyes off of that sword, you pass the one currently in your hands to the closest person beside you. Easily, Mingi takes it from you as you step in closer to Seonghwa.
You swallow your building emotions.
With shaking hands, you reach out to grasp that sword. You take one small step back before you’re unsheathing it in one fluid movement, the etchings in the metal bringing tears to your eyes.
Before you, held in your very grip, is an exact replica of Andúril.
“You made this for me?” Your voice comes out small, your overwhelming emotions threatening to choke you out at any second.
Briefly, your gaze flits from the markings on the blade to Seonghwa’s face, noting how he nods softly.
The whole time, his gaze never leaves you for a moment. Never does he want to miss even a single second of the wondrous expression you wear on your face. The fact that he can hear your heart racing says it all.
“Seonghwa, I-“ Your grip tightens around the handle of the sword, meeting his gaze once more. “When?”
He shuffles slightly from foot to foot, the others remaining silent out of respect for the moment being shared between the both of you right now.
“I started that day we got back from the mall.” His honest reply nearly sends you to your knees.
Again, your eyes trail over every inch of that sword before you. Your heart swells with nothing but love, feeling as if it’s close to bursting as you take in every minuscule detail of the blade. You can tell that he put in a tremendous amount of effort into forging this weapon for you, and given its meaning to you in its entirety, you know that he spoke true when he said that he wanted to make it perfect.
For you. 
He made this for you.
Something within your eyes flash, and you’re quick to sheathe that sword. The whole time, you never break eye contact with the male across from you, and despite the pounding of your heart that you can hear in your ears, a sense of complete calm washes over you.
“You seven,” you don’t even spare them so much as a glance of acknowledgement. “Out. Now.”
Words of protest die on Wooyoung’s lips as he gets pushed out of the room by both Jongho and Yeosang. Of course, just before the door closes, Seonghwa does not fail to miss the wink Yunho sends his way.
The sound of the door clicking shut is synonymous with the movement of Seonghwa’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
“You made this for me,” you begin lowly. “After hearing me say once that I have long since desired a replica of my own.”
He nods. Slowly.
“You didn’t hesitate for one moment to make this for me, did you?” Your inquiry is soft, despite the heated stare you wear.
He shakes his head.
You motion for him to come forward with your finger, backing yourself towards that wooden table as he begins stalking towards you. Not once does he break eye contact, obeying your every command without hesitation.
“Of all of the grandiose gesture you could make for me, this is the one that means the most.” You tell him honestly, your voice near breathless as you finally hit that table. Resting the sword against its side, you motion him closer. “There are no words to describe what this means to me; no gift more significant than that which you have just given.”
The moment he steps into you, your arms are around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. Softly, your fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck, and you notice how his suddenly hooded eyes continuously spare fleeting glances down to your lips. You smirk.
“A simple ‘thank you’ is not enough to convey what this means to me.” You whisper lowly, surprising him by flipping your positions so that he’s the one pressed against the table. “What you mean to me, Seonghwa.”
One of your hands sneaks down his torso, sending a shiver up his spine as he feels you caressing his side. Then, you pull him even closer, hoisting his thigh up so that his leg wraps around your waist.
“How about it, My King?” You hum, voice nothing but sultry as your lips barely ghost over the skin of his own. “Will you allow me to demonstrate my gratitude for you?”
“Yes,” The nod of his head is immediate as he all but whimpers out a response. “Please.”
The corner of your lips twitches faintly upwards before you’re closing the rest of the distance between your two bodies. The way you hold onto him, and he to you, is nothing short of desperate, kissing one another like you are the very air you both need to breathe.
Carefully, you help him sit on top of the table, allowing for him to fully wrap his legs around your waist. Unashamedly, his hands roam over your body, pulling you in closer as his fingers dance across your skin.
The moan he lets out as you take his bottom lip between your teeth sets your heart fluttering inside of your chest.
“You are incredible, Seonghwa,” you mumble out against the skin of his lips. “And so, unbelievably beautiful.”
He moans, legs tightening around your waist as his stomach twists pleasantly.
“Shouldn’t-“ he gasps as you begin trailing your lips over his jaw, soon moving to bite at the skin of his neck, “Shouldn’t I be telling you this.”
“Some other time,” you promise, placing a lingering kiss over his racing pulse. “Right now, I want to worship you.”
The shudder that wracks his entire body does not go unnoticed by you. The fact that you can physically feel his skin heating beneath your touch says it all.
“My Queen-“
“Shhh,” you’re quick to cut him off with a peck to his lips. “Just let me take care of you.”
You pull away only the slightest bit to stare deeply into his eyes. Silently, you check in with him, brushing against that familiar blue string in your mind to make sure that he’s okay.
“Please,” he swallows. “Don’t stop.”
The tender smile that pulls at your lips says it all.
Instantly, you move back in to continue biting and sucking at his neck, your hands sneaking up his shirt and eliciting another moan from his lips. The desperate way he clings to you has a pleasant feeling building within your core, spreading outwards and warming your entire body.
To know that he wants you, that he needs you in this moment means the world to you. 
You wouldn’t have it any any other way.
Bringing your lips back to his, you swallow all of his sounds, enjoying every small whimper and moan he gives you. The way he gasps as your one hand slides up his thigh to pull him flush against you by his ass is like music to your ears.
“My Seonghwa,” you hum, slowly grinding your hips against his own.
A choked moan of your name slips passed his lips, “Yours.”
“That’s right, My Dove,” you nip lightly at his ear, feeling how he shudders once more in your hold. “You’re mine.”
“All yours,” he whimpers, burying his face into the side of your neck.
Slowly, you bring your one hand between your two bodies, beginning to palm his semi-hard cock over his jeans. The fact that he seems to desperately grind against your hand in time with your movements makes you smirk.
“My Beautiful Dove,” you hum, adding the slightest bit more pressure to your palm as you move over his clothed cock. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?”
Softly, he shakes his head against the skin of your shoulder.
“No?” The corner of your lips tug upwards in a small grin as you pull away to meet his wide eyes. “Then, I guess I’ll have to show you.”
Your lips are back on his in an instant, pulling him flush against you. Carefully, you begin to lean him back, hovering over him as you lay him down on that table. His hands cling desperately to your back, tilting his head to give you better access to his neck every time you move to bite your marks into his skin. Marks which you know he will wear proudly for as long as he can.
“My Divine,” the whimper that escapes him goes straight to your core, feeling yourself clench around nothing.
“My Beautiful Seonghwa,” you rest your forehead gently against his own. “As if you didn’t know that forging me Andúril would be considered the grandest romantic gesture you could ever make for me.”
His chest is heaving, hips desperately seeking your own. Only, you pin him to that table, retracting your hand from over his cock and eliciting the sweetest of whines from his throat.
“As if you wouldn’t have known that I would immediately have to satisfy My King as a reward for always taking such good care of His Queen.” You continue, reaching out slightly to the side to grasp a particular object in your hand. Once you feel that cool metal of the dagger against your palm, you smirk. “Since My King has shown me nothing but a loving patience and dedication to his craft, I shall show him the same.”
Again, you lean over him, pecking his lips tenderly.
“I wish to take my time savouring you right now, Seonghwa,” you tell him gently. “As long as you’ll let me.”
At the vigorous nod of his head, along with the breathless ‘yes’ that falls from his lips, you have your answer.
You smile, eyes crinkling at the sides as your heart warms.
Slowly, carefully, you bring that dagger up his body. Gently, you tug his shirt forward, the tip of the blade kissing the material. Cautiously, you hook the blade beneath the neckline of his shirt, watching him carefully for any signs of discomfort.
You find none.
The sound of tearing fabric reaches your ears, the dagger getting tossed beside you on that table as you help him sit up once more. His lips are on yours as you strip Seonghwa of his now cut shirt, the planes of his chest on full display. The way he shivers beneath your touch as your hands roam down his bare chest has you smiling into the kiss.
Without wasting another moment, you part from him only to begin trailing your lips down his chest. You take your time, biting and sucking marks into his skin as your hands grip his waist firmly. The fact that Seonghwa arches into your touch, eyes fluttering as he feels your tongue come out to lave over his burning skin says it all.
Another moan of your name slips passed his lips.
“That’s it, My Dove,” you coo, sliding him the slightest bit forward, and back onto the edge of the table. “I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”
Slowly, you begin to sink to your knees, allowing your fingers to trail over his thighs as you do so.
Seonghwa’s head is spinning, and with each breath, his chest heaves. He can hardly believe that this is happening right now, his hands desperately gripping at the side of his work table for dear life. The image alone of you on top of him like that, and now, with you resting on your knees between his legs, is making his cock ache for your touch once more. He needs you, and he’s sure to tell you that.
The smirk that pulls at your lips is nothing short of devious, “Patience, My Dove. I told you that I wish to take my time with you right now.”
A small whimper escapes him.
“You’re not the only one who wants my lips wrapped around you cock right now, Seonghwa.” Your eyes flash dangerously as you look up at him through your lashes. “Be patient, and I will reward you, My King.”
Seonghwa’s breath hitches in his throat, whole body stilling as your words settle over him. He can feel his cock throbbing, becoming almost painful the longer he goes with you no longer touching him.
The second you begin to undo his belt, his thighs begin to shake.
Soothingly, you rub your hands over his upper thighs, staring up at him with wide eyes. As you meet his gaze, your hands still, finger sinking into the material of his jeans as his lips part with another moan.
“Look at you,” you hum, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “I’ve barely even done anything to you yet, and you’re ready to fall apart.”
“I’m surprised I haven’t come yet from your touches alone,” he admits lowly, voice a little rough as he clears his throat.
Your eyebrow quirks, “Oh?”
“My Divine, the feeling of your hands on me is one of the greatest sensations I’ve ever felt in my entire life.” He breathes, thighs tensing as you begin to undo the zipper of his jeans. “You already know how little self-control I seem to have around you.”
Slowly, you begin to slide the material of his jeans down his thighs as you chuckle once more. A moment later, you help him step out of them, tossing both his jeans and his boxers off to the side.
“That, I do know,” you smile knowingly. “And yet, you’re being such a good boy for me.”
His cock visibly twitches from your words, and you smirk.
“Oh?” Your brow quirks, a devious look shining behind your eyes as you look up at him. “You like it when I call you My Good Boy, don’t you.”
His grip tightens on the edges of the table, and you wonder at how the wood hasn’t cracked beneath the pressure yet.
“Yes,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments. “Fuck- I love it, My Queen.”
The giggle you let out is music to his ears.
You meet his gaze through your lashes once more, “Good boy.”
Again, his cock visibly twitches from your words. You can see how desperately he restrains himself from reaching out to you right now, his hands tense as he grips the table for dear life.
Teasingly, you trail your hands back up his thighs. Only, when you get close to his hips, you stop, dragging them back down and ensuring your nails scratch lightly over his skin.
He shudders.
The whole time you rest before him, Seonghwa keeps his gaze locked on you. Not once does he allow his eyes to fall shut, and he swears to himself that he’ll do whatever he can to engrain this memory in his mind for as long as possible. He’ll be damned if he misses even one second of you pleasing him, for you appear just as eager as he does in this moment.
He wouldn’t want it any other way.
Trailing your hands back up his thighs, you give them both another appreciative squeeze. Then, finally, you lean into him, bringing your lips to the skin of his inner thigh as your one hand wraps delicately around his cock.
The moment your fingers close around him, he moans. His lips remain parted, breaths coming in uneven pants as he feels you gently nipping at the skin of his inner thigh. The way your hand begins to move over him has his whole body twitching beneath your touch.
The closer your lips get to his aching cock, the harder it becomes for him to control himself. Desperately, Seonghwa clings onto whatever shreds of his sanity that he has left, taking in the beautiful sight that is you, on your knees, pleasing him right now.
Just when he thinks you’ll free him from your teasing licks and kisses on his one thigh, you move to the other, repeating the same actions over his skin almost lovingly.
At one particularly firm bite against his thigh, his stomach clenches. He can feel himself twitch in your hand, a low groan escaping him as he leans further back on the table for support.
You chuckle, looking up at him innocently from between his spread legs.
“My King?” 
He hums, almost absentmindedly.
“One more thing,” A devious gleam is shining behind your eyes. One which his blissed out state manages to ignore for the moment.
“Anything, My Queen.” He breathes out, breath hitching in his throat as he sees you lick your lips.
“Hands to yourself until I say so.”
As soon as those words escape you, your lips are around him. Gently, you suckle on the tip, tongue flicking over his slit a few times as you maintain eye contact with him.
A choked moan escapes him, his right hand automatically reaching out to you. Only, he catches himself, fingers twitching in midair right by your head. Slowly, reluctantly, he retracts his hand, gripping onto that table desperately for support.
The chuckle you let out reverberates along his cock, sending pleasant shivers up his spine and causing his stomach to clench. The way your tongue feels, beginning to swirl around his head as you take more of him into your mouth is making his head spin. Never before has Seonghwa been this hard in his life, and the fact that it’s all because of you is only adding to the intensity of the pleasure that he’s currently feeling.
Low, guttural groans escape him as he watches you sink further down on his cock. Languidly, your tongue strokes along his shaft, pleasant hums escaping you as you watch his every reaction carefully. The fact that his whole body trembles, fingers digging into the wood of the table has you chuckling lowly once more.
Slowly, you begin bobbing your head. What you can’t fit into your mouth, you use your one hand to stroke over, squeezing at his base a few times as you hollow your cheeks over him.
Seonghwa nearly collapses right then and there. As much as he tries, he cannot prevent the way his eyes flutter closed, tossing his head back as a moan of your name slips passed his lips.
“Just like that, My Divine,” he smiles, blinking his vision open once more to see the glorious sight that is you, on your knees before him, with his cock in your mouth. A low growl escapes him, eyes flashing black. “Fuck- just like that.”
Desperately, he does whatever he can to keep his hips from bucking further into your mouth. The wet heat of your mouth is overwhelming, nothing but pure pleasure coursing through his veins as he feels you suckling at the tip of his cock once more.
Pulling away from him for just a moment, you let your hand pump over his length a few times. Again, you lick your lips, gaze darting up to meet his own as you move in closer.
Another growl escapes him as he watches you suck one of his balls into your mouth. His whole body shudders as you slowly let it pop back out of your mouth only for you to begin placing wet, open mouthed kisses up along the bottom of his shaft. The way your tongue comes out to trace along the path shortly afterwards has him twitching in your hand.
“Oh, fuck-“ His breath catches in his throat, eyes bleeding black once more. “Again. Please, do that again.”
The way your lips are currently pressed against his cock lets Seonghwa feel every inch of the smile that pulls at your features. To his utmost pleasure, you’re almost instantly repeating your actions, taking even more time to caress your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing over a prominent vein.
“My Divine, please-“ he chokes out, every breath escaping him now but a mere whimper on his lips.
You spare a glance upwards and into his eyes as you tighten your hold around the base of his cock.
“I love you, My Seonghwa.”
Your lips are around him as soon as the words finish escaping you, moving over him with a newfound vigour. You barely even begin to lave your tongue over his cock when you feel him twitching within your mouth, the sound of shattering wood greeting your ears.
Whimpers and whines escape him, along with desperate cries of your name as his orgasm washes over him. His body hunches the slightest bit forward, releasing down your throat as you help to ride him through his high.
Every last drop he offers you, you swallow, humming contently around him as you lick him clean.
Your name falls like a mantra from his lips, whole body shaking as he leans against the table for support. Two chunks seem to have been torn from the wood where his hands had been gripping the table so firmly, the shattered remains littering the ground around you.
Slowly, you release him from your mouth, hearing as another guttural groan escapes him as you do so. When you spare a glance up, you notice his chest heaving, his lips parted as he stares down at you with nothing but love and pure, unfiltered awe in his gaze.
Tenderly, your hands come up to stroke over his thighs. “Good?”
“Good?” He smiles, voice deep and rough. A soft chuckle falls from his lips as he runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m great. Never been better, in fact.”
You giggle, standing carefully back to your feet with a little help from him. His one hand comes up to cup the side of your face, kissing you deeply as he flips your positions so that he can push you back against his worktable now.
“Seonghwa,” you giggle against his lips. “What are you doing?”
“Returning the favour,” he growls lowly, pressing you a bit firmer into the wood behind you.
Softly, your fingers begin to thread through the hair at the back of his neck. “Some other time, yeah?”
A whine of protest escapes him, pulling away from you to look into your eyes with round, pleading ones of his own.
“Later. I promise.” You bring your hands around to cup his face tenderly in your palms. “For now, let’s go get something to eat.”
The playful quirk of his brow informs you of what it is, exactly, that he intends to eat.
“Next time.” You say, a little more firmly.
He pouts, but listens nonetheless as he begins to pull his pants back on.
“Come on, Mars.” You smile lovingly at him, grabbing his hand in yours after he’s finished putting on his belt. 
You lick your lips, taking the time to admire him for the nth time this day as he stands before you.
“My Divine, if you keep staring at me like that…” He lets his words trail off, but the darkness you see swirling behind his eyes says it all.
“What?” You chuckle, a playful smirk pulling at your lips. “I said I was hungry.”
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second, never first
part fifteen
| part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | part fourteen |
PLEASE READ WARNINGS
chris x fem!reader
summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.
warnings - swearing, kissing, use of y/n, mention of family issues (domestic violence between parents), fluff, mentions of underage drinking
word count - 900+?
NOT PROOFREAD
-
living with an emotionally unavailable parent is soul crushing at times. yes i can say i have two parents who did love each other at one point but it came to an end. to my knowledge no one knows when my dad became a different person. always drinking, going from bar to bar every night, never affectionate to me or my mom, emotionally and apparently physically abusive.
he was never the parent to help you with homework at the dinner table, although if he did i left that table in tears, clutching my book and running up the stairs.
i always had a feeling he did that to my mom but i never saw it so i chose to block out those thoughts, until i saw the proof right in front of me.
there was many moments in which i thought they would eventually split up and i could just live happily with my mom but for some reason it never happened. reasons in which at this point im honestly scared to find out. seeing your parents relationship crash and never having a true representation of what love is can fuck with you.
which brings me to now.
silently crying in chris’ bathroom at 7am after a night out in which i drunkenly confessed to him that i loved him. i thought i did, but did i actually know what that meant? i sure felt it when i was with him.
home.
he felt like home. he felt like safety. he felt like comfort. he felt like when my world was crashing he could come with a toolbox and fix it within seconds.
sure thats what you would want out of your significant other, but i dont know what love truly is.
i sat on the toilet with the lid down with my face buried into my hands and tears that never seemed like they would stop. struggling to breathe for air as i my mind just raced with thoughts. my parents, chris, anna, everything.
knock, knock
fuck. me.
i get up and wipe my face, hand on the door nob slowly twisting it. i crack to door open and im greeted with the all to familiar blue eyes that i seemed to drown in every time i looked into them. his face saddens as i open the door wider and his arms come over my shoulders. “what wrong?” chris whispers as i wept into his chest. i dont respond and just shake my head against him. he pulls away and puts one hand on the side of my face and the other one is placing my hair behind my ear, “theres nothing you cant tell me y/n, why are you crying”
“i cant-“ i croak, dropping my head down and putting my hands up to face. “yes you can, what happened?” he sighs as he pets the back of my head. “i told you i loved you” i sniffle
“what?”
“i- i told you i loved you.” i say more sternly this time.
“why is that a reason to cry kid?” he whisperers wiping my tears. “chris what do i know about love, nothing. i was shown a fucked up version of an abusive relationship my entire life. thats no way to learn what love is, i dont know what it truly feels like. m- my dad fucked me over for my entire life by being who he is, i dont know if i can ever fix that part inside of me.” i let out a sob.
“well y/n i know what love is, i am standing with it right now” he begins, “this, this right here is love,” he points between us, “them, that is love” he points at the hallway meaning his brothers. “this” he kisses me, “that is love.”
i blink at him as he talks, just in awe of his way with words. “there is never a day that i dont worry about you, if your ok, if you want to stop this fake relationship, if you even give a shit about me.” he half chuckles, “i was shown love not just by my parents but by you.” he breathes.
“you might not exactly know if your in love with me but i sure as hell am in love with you.”
jaw, on the fucking floor.
“you what?” i sniffle. “i fucking love you”
i lean up grabbing either side of his face and pull him in to a kiss. the salt of tears and chris hitting my tongue and i continue to cry into the kiss as tears flow out of my closed eyes.
“i love you too.” i pull away and he leans in again.
home, thats exactly what this felt like. i had never felt safer than in this moment. maybe i didnt know what real love was, but i knew i felt it when i was with him. i felt it for months and it was right in front of me but i always believed it was too good to be true.
-
thanks for reading xx
taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @matthewloverr @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry @stunza @realuvrrr @sturnsjtop @tubl-mc @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @sturnssmuts @emlovesthesturniolos
a/n: love you all<333
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bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years
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Sweet as Honey(moon)
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A/N: Okayyy let’s escape away to Greece for some sexin, shall we? Just as a reminder these are all part of my little SHAPE OF YOU AU
The Prompt: The Honeymoon 😈
Requested by: loveliest of lovelies @dawnsutopia
Pairing: Marc x afab!reader, Steven x afab!reader and Jake x afab!reader, Reader is married to the system
Word Count: 9.4k (back to my self-indulgent waysss)
Spice-o-meter: 🌶🌶🌶🌶, Rated Tre Explicit, Minors DNI
CW/TW: This is a...how you say...a fook-est? I mean our couple is on their honeymoon after all. We have fingering (f receiving), indecent things with Marc’s wedding bad, oral sex (f and m receiving), p in v sex, anal sex, pool sex, nipple play, lingerie, the boys being co-conscious during sex, dirty talk, spanking, nipple play, a brief mention of “dumbification” (which this fandom taught me about btw so 😳), light spanking, mucho aftercare, teasing, exhibitionism though it’s not specified if anyone sees or hears them, squirting, multiple orgasms, and fluff!
“On behalf of all of us, welcome to Mykonos,” the polite-to-a-fault receptionist said as he activated your keycards, “and congratulations on your nuptials, Mr. and Mrs. Spector.” 
You grinned so widely at the use of your new surname your face could split in half. Despite a turbulent four hour flight from London and being hungover as shit, you were deliriously happy, leaning into Marc’s side —your husband’s side— while you checked into the resort where you’d be spending the next ten days on your honeymoon. 
You two had kept the wedding on the smaller side. The ceremony itself had been incredibly private and intimate, just you, your boys, your parents and a trusted rabbi at a local synagogue. This was so that you could exchange vows with Marc, Steven and Jake each individually. Afterwards, you’d booked the Gallery Room at the ever-so-posh Bluebird in Chelsea to host a reception for forty friends and extended family. 
The more subdued – though still somehow overwhelming to plan – wedding meant that you and your husband could splash out on the honeymoon, which is exactly what you’d done with the resort you’d booked here in Greece. The stunning beauty of the island didn’t hit you until you were being escorted to your room and could take in the stark white walls, ancient stone, clear blue sky, and even clearer, bluer water for yourself. 
Your suite echoed the landscape, eschewing any color or even decor on the walls for crisp white plaster and massive windows that framed picturesque views of the ocean. Everything from the furniture to the linens were warm neutrals and earth hewn materials. The focal point of the space was no doubt the sliders flung wide open led to an ample balcony that boasted a plush daybed and a small private pool. It was a dream come to life as far as you were concerned. 
The bellboy unloaded your luggage and after he left with a tip, you and Marc launched yourself at each other. He tackled you back onto the large plush bed. 
“This is insane,” you managed to pant in between kisses, “it’s even more beautiful here than I thought it’d be.” 
“Good,” Marc grunted, stripping out of his t-shirt and swiftly moving to discard his joggers as well. He was getting right to it then. 
Last night seemed to whiz by in a blur of laughter, alcohol, dancing, and toasts to the happy couple. Unlike the romance novels you’d read as an adolescent, your wedding night was not the raucous night of passion that had graced the pages you’d secretly devoured. You and your husband were exhausted. Though between the three of them, Jake was able to get it up and indulge in some soft, sleepy, tipsy sex in missionary before the pair of you conked out. 
It felt as if you’d only closed your eyes for a few minutes when the car service woke you with their courtesy call to inform you that they were outside, and you both napped on the plane. Now however, it seemed that Marc was rearing to go. 
He rid you of the tacky, but incredibly comfy, bride-themed matching sweats your uni friends had gotten for your hen do as a gag gift and you couldn’t help but giggle while you rolled around together on top of the bed. 
“Mr. and Mrs. Spector,” you echoed breathily while Marc nibbled on your ear, grinding his already rock hard erection into your bare leg. 
“Has a nice to ring it,” he murmured. Layla hadn’t taken his name when they had wed. It didn’t bother Marc, more and more women were choosing not to, and she had her own reasons for keeping her maiden name. But the fact that you’d wanted to, that you were happy to become a Spector despite all the baggage that name held, made Marc’s heart soar.
“Mmmmhmm,” you agreed. “A good thing since we’ll be using it for quite a while.” 
“Forever,” your husband specified, parting your folds with his fingers. 
Your eyes were drawn to the platinum band that now encircled his left ring finger. “Forever.” 
Marc caught you watching him and a wicked idea formed in his mind. Steven raised the concern if it was sanitary, yet Jake quickly overruled him and told Marc to do it anyway. Those two truly felt like the trope of the devil and angel on his shoulder sometimes. 
Instead of easing his index or middle finger inside of you to begin prepping you for his dick, Marc penetrated you with his ring finger. You gasped at the audacious move, letting out a little yelp when you felt the precious metal of the ring breach your entrance, warm from Marc’s skin but still cooler than the heat of your cunt. 
Marc’s dark eyes gazed up at you from those ridiculously long eyelashes of his. “That feel good?”
“Yeah,” came your breathless reply. The both of you stared mesmerized as his finger plunged in and out of your pussy, enthralled with how Marc’s wedding band would disappear and re-emerge from your cunt. 
Soon your sounds indicated to Marc that you needed more, and he was all too happy to comply. His middle finger joined the other digit, making sure you were stretched enough to take his cock, which currently was so hard he likely could cut glass at this point. 
Your husband tugged on your hips, positioning your bum on the edge of bed to lock your legs around him. He took his cock in hand and entered you in a smooth shove of his pelvis. You both moaned at the feeling of becoming one, as if it had been weeks since you’d been together like this and not a matter of hours. 
Marc was eager, you could tell from the way he jackrabbited his hips into you. It was the kind of rough fucking that emptied your mind of everything but the stretch of your tight channel around his considerable girth. You were all too happy to succumb to it, you were in Greece, the wedding was over, and all of your responsibilities were thousands of miles away in London. 
His hand found your clit quickly and rubbed the bud with harsh strokes. You gasped and dug your heels into the bottom of his back to pull him closer. 
“Not going to last long,” Marc revealed while he hammered you, “wanted you since we woke up.”
“That’s okay honey,” you soothed him. After all, you’d gotten some last night. A little shiver ran through through you when you realized this was the first time you and Marc were having sex a married couple. Marc Spector, the man who was so convinced he was unworthy of happiness and did everything he could to push you away, was now making love to you on your honeymoon. 
He dropped down lower, his hands covering your breasts, which sent another, more prominent shiver through you as Marc chased his release. The movement of his hips switched, his thrusts became grinds, which allowed your clit to receive some stimulation too.
You studied Marc’s face fondly, enjoying the view of his Adam's apple as it bobbed, the short black hair that was beginning to curl from the sweat gathering at his hairline, and of course, that face, so handsome and contorted in pleasure, only made more beautiful when he spurted his hot seed inside of you. 
After he came down, Marc fell onto his forearms to nuzzle your face with his. 
“Hi,” he whispered, peppering your face with kisses. You giggled and squirmed at the attention. 
He gently took his cock from your pussy, then knelt before your slit at the side of the bed. 
“Hun…”
Marc knew that tone of voice of yours, it was the inflection you used when you told him “not to worry about it”. He cursed all the men that’d allowed you to think that your pleasure wasn’t as, if not more important, than his. Marc bit the inside of your thigh playfully to stop you. “Hey, I’m fulfilling my husbandly duties here, okay?”
You surrendered with a shy little grin. He knew tossing a reference to your newly minted marriage would end your protests. Marc got to work, licking a stripe up your folds to taste the two of you before sucking on your clit and inserted two fingers into you to stimulate your g-spot. Whines and shaking legs soon followed as you came on Marc’s thick digits. 
Before he could rise fully to grab a cloth for you, you grabbed his wrist and sucked his ring finger into your warm, wet mouth, fellating the band with your tongue. Its metallic taste was new to you and honestly, rather unpleasant, but the way Marc looked at you while you did it was well worth it. 
“Fuck baby,” he groaned once you released him. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair sheepishly, “I really pounced on you just now, didn’t I?”
You sat up too. “No complaints here.” 
Marc drew you up to standing to kiss you and the both of you tended to yourselves in the bathroom. You took turns relieving yourselves and Marc splashed water on his face. You emerged from the little stall for the toilet with a request. “We should cool off in the pool.”
Your husband cocked a brow. “Bathing suits optional, I’m assuming?” 
“What’s the point of having a private pool if you’re not going to skinny dip?” 
“And people think I only married you for your beauty,” he joked. 
This had to be heaven, you concluded. You and Marc floated in the pool together for a little while, both made speechless by the beauty of the Aegean before you, then toweled off and dozed in the shade together on the daybed. 
When you roused, you automatically pecked the dip that ran between your husband’s pecs, just under his chain with the star of David. When your eyes met, you could tell by the softness in them and the little quirk of his lips that it was Steven gazing back at you. 
“Well hello Mrs. Grant,” he murmured. Though technically on paper you’d taken the surname Spector, you planned to use Mrs. Grant and Mrs. Lockley respectively when the other boys fronted. 
“Hello yourself Doctor Grant,” you beamed back. “Happy honeymoon.”
“Happy honeymoon indeed,” he concurred, “This is the ideal way to wake up, I think…naked, you in my arms, and with ocean views.” 
“I can’t help but agree. Come back in the pool with me.” 
Steven followed you, both of you luxuriating in the cooling water. Even though it was pretty big for an in-room pool, you two refused to spread out. Steven held you into his arms once again, so close to one another you could distinguish each and every droplet of water that clung to his neck, collarbones, and face. 
Your lips drifted together in a liplock that quickly escalated and deepened. Steven’s large hands cupped your ass, giving it a squeeze, lifting you to walk to the edge of the pool. He parted your legs while you procured a towel to sit on. 
You continued to trade deep, passionate kisses while Steven stood still half-submerged in the water between your thighs, the sun warming your skin as you got lost in each other. His lips drifted down to your neck and clavicle, and his fingers found your core. He began with gentle touches and strokes between your folds, inserting a finger to feel your wetness and the remnants of his alter’s cum. 
“Baby,” you gasped when his thumb pressed into your clit. 
“What do you want, darling?” He rasped. 
“Your mouth,” you told him without hesitation, “then fuck me Steven.” 
He deferred, musing as he descended to your cunt, “We do have to consummate our marriage after all.”
Your clever response was eclipsed by a whimper when Steven began to eat you out. Still sensitive from your lovemaking with Marc from earlier, each lick and swirl of Steven’s tongue had you feeling like a live wire. His mouth had you just on the other side of too much, your husband working his signature magic on your twitching cunt while you leant back on your hands. 
“You taste so good,” Steven panted as he briefly pulled away for air. “Could eat this pussy forever Mrs. Grant.” 
“Please do,” you exhaled, only half-joking. 
He chuckled lowly, returning to your core, his tongue dancing on your clit and pushing into your hole. His nose was pressed perfectly into clit while he tongue-fucked you, so perfectly that you found your orgasm blindsiding you, suddenly snapping in your groin and flooding you with bliss.
When your eyelids at last fluttered open, your climax subsided, Steven gazed at you with adoration. “You’re so bloody gorgeous.” 
There was nowhere to hide your blush given that you were stark naked sitting on the poolside tile. “You’re so bloody good at that. Let me take care of you, I bet that big dick is just aching for me, isn’t it?”  
Steven agreed by pulling you back in the water, hooking his elbows into the bends of your knees and pressing your back into the wall of the pool. You took a hold of his erection, velvet-covered steel in your hand, and guided your husband inside of you below the water’s surface. Steven groaned when he entered you, and scooted you up the length of the wall so your back arched against the side of the pool. Your head rested on the towel, the position exposing your breasts to the warm air, allowing Steven to tongue your nipples as he pushed inside of you. 
The way Steven made love to you couldn’t be more different than how Marc had. Steven was slow, languid, and worshipful feeding his member into your cunt. Even though he was splitting you apart on his fat cock and filled his mouth with your tits, it didn’t feel like you could get close enough. You dug your fingertips, still sporting your wedding manicure, into the tile on either side of your bodies in an attempt to anchor yourself. The universe shrank to just you and your husband, the feel of him — so hot and hard inside of you — and the small rectangle of water you were fucking in. 
Steven angled his hips so the head of cock could brush against your g-spot and rub his pelvis against your clit. The combination was devastating but he entreated you, “Go on, love, can you give me one more? Know you can do it….wanna see your pretty face while you come.” 
You’d had three orgasms in the last twenty-four hours, but Steven was ruthless in the most tender way possible, cooing into your ear and coaxing yet another release from your quaking, over-stimulated body. The spasming of your pussy around him resulted in his hips picking up pace and frantically suckling on a nipple while his climax crashed over him. 
“Wow,” he marveled after you separated. 
“That about sums it up,” you giggled, dunking under the water to re-wet your hair, “and to think we have ten days just for us.” 
***
The pair of you eventually did unpack and leave your room. You’d never had so much space in your suitcase before, since the majority of what you’d brought were swimsuits, skimpy lingerie and a few sundresses for meals and sightseeing. 
You put what you packed to use the next evening when you and your husband went to dinner in town. The night began in a breezy, white satin slip dress. Jake held your hand as you two strolled back to the resort, both of you giddy, inebriated from the wine at dinner and each other’s presence. 
Jake began humming some Spanish song you didn’t recognize, twirling you and pulling you under his arm as you navigated the uneven but mostly empty streets of the neighborhood. Marc and Steven were shy about it, but they had a great voice, and you soaked up every moment Jake would sing with unfettered delight. 
He ducked down to kiss you, whispering “Eres mi reina” when you broke apart. 
“Te amo,” you sighed back. 
Jake re-captured your lips, and next thing you knew, your back was against the side of a building as he attacked your mouth. It took a Herculean amount of self-control to withdraw your lips from his, but you had to or else you’d start fucking in the middle of the street. While you two shared a fondness for a bit of exhibitionism, that wasn’t exactly the vibe you were trying to achieve on your honeymoon. “Papi, let’s go inside.”
Your husband ignored you, his hands creeping down to your ass and kissing below your ear. 
“I’ll make it worth your while…”
That got his attention. Dark eyes glittered in the street lamplight as they searched yours.  “How?” 
“Guess you’ll just have to see,” you teased. 
From there on, Jake followed you back to your suite like a puppy. Once you’d returned to the privacy of your room, you pushed Jake back on the bed and ordered him to wait, then disappeared into the bathroom to change out of the dress and into a white bustier and panty set that managed to be lacy, sheer, strappy and somewhat tasteful all at once. 
You remerged and Jake instantly muttered a “Joder” at the sight of you. 
You did a little spin for him to get the full view. “Te gusta? Piensas que yo miro linda?”
“No, eres linda, pero ahora ves tan sexy,” he corrected you in a growl. “Ven aquí.”
“Come get me,” you challenged him. 
Jake leapt to his feet and chased you around the suite. You evaded him in a fit of giggles, but you were no match for your ex-military, ex-superhero husband. He circled his arms around your waist, lifted you from the ground, and tossed you onto the bed in one swift move. 
“Naughty,” he rumbled, caging you between his meaty thighs and while he rid himself of his shirt, then moved to unbutton and unzip his linen trousers to free his raging erection. Once he’d taken them off, plus palmed himself to take some of the edge off, he began exploring your body with his hands. 
“This is too pretty to rip off of you,” he mused, tracing the waistband of your tiny thong. But Marc’s voice had said it. 
“Oh, hi babe,” you greeted him, a little startled. 
He kissed you hello, grinding against your cloth-covered core, “Hi baby.” 
As much as you enjoyed the feel of his length against your soaked panties, you had to ask, “Everything ok with Jake?” 
“Yeah, we just thought we’d maybe try being co-conscious tonight, if that’s ok? Be a little more fast and loose with the switches?” 
Now there was an idea. In the past, one of the boys may have fronted momentarily while you were intimate with another, you’d never had sex with them fully co-conscious, to your knowledge at least.
“Okay,” you consented. “Just don’t get cross with me if I accidentally call someone by the wrong name.” 
Marc fixed you with a warm, lopsided smile, “We’ll take it easy on you…to start.” 
“Good,” you pulled him into another kiss. When you two broke apart, Steven was grinning down at you. 
“Now this is just darling,” he mused, tugging the cups of your bustier down to free your breasts. He wasted no time attaching his skilled mouth to your left nipple to lavish his attention on your sensitive peak.
You mewled, eyes screwed shut, and your hand shot down to Steven’s boxer-briefs to grope him through the fabric. 
Steven switched nipples with a rumble in his chest and once you were face to face again, Jake asked you “Will you suck Papi’s cock in your pretty outfit?” 
“Por supuesto Papi.”
You flipped over, reorienting yourselves so Jake was on his back and you were straddling his legs. You discarded his boxers and did your best to make a show of lapping at his tip, mouthing at the head and using your tongue to play with it. 
“Joder si, nena,” Jake heaved, trying to keep from bucking into your mouth without warning. “Just like that.” 
You worked your mouth down on his length, and you spotted who you thought was Steven craning his neck to watch you swallow his dick down your throat with your tits still out. “Bloody hell.”
You chuckled around his erection, the vibrations sending a shiver through Steven’s spine. Or wait, was that a Marc sound? 
“Don’t stop,” Jake urged you. You obeyed happily, licking the circumference of his cock to wet it, then wrapping your palm around the appendage to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth while you went to town on him. 
You could tell your boys were close by the way their right leg twitched, but before could take them into the home stretch, a hand pulled you off their cock by your hair. 
“Jake doesn’t get to come just like that,” Marc growled, wrapping his own hand around the base of his manhood to stave off his orgasm. 
“Fuck you,” Jake vollied quickly before Marc reclaimed the body and eased with you a kiss. “Hands and knees, baby.” 
You obeyed, wiggling your ass a bit for effect, and whimpered when you felt a palm slap across your right cheek. That was Jake for sure. The drenched crotch of your thong was pushed to the side, then you felt the head of your husband’s cock circle your soaking entrance a few times before it began to breach you, which was a Steven move. 
Your husband set a steady pace and confirmed your guess as to who was fronting when Steven raved, “Oh, I see why they like this position…such a lovely view.” 
“It’s good isn’t it?” Marc chimed in, increasing the pace of his thrusts some. “First time I fucked you we did it like this, remember baby?” 
“Ye-uh…uh-huh,” you could barely formulate words at this point. The idea of your husbands teaming up to fuck you in a slutty little matching lingerie set was melting your brain. 
“She takes it so well,” Jake added. His hand pressed in between your shoulder blades and you yielded so that your face and chest were resting on the bed, ass higher in the air. 
“Ugh that’s it,” Marc groaned, landing another slap across your rear. 
“Doing so well for us, love,” he praised. It was Steven obviously. “You alright?” 
You stuttered out a “yes” and began pushing your hips back against his groin as much as you could to drive your point home. 
When Jake said “Hmmm, si nena, let us feel that little cunt clench around our cock,” you couldn’t resist anymore, you had to touch yourself. 
Jake spotted it right away and spanked you again, “Did I say you could play yourself?”
“Por favor Papi,” you begged. You were beyond dignity at this point, all you could think about was coming. “I need it.”
“Let her Jake,” Steven argued, rubbing the imprint his alter’s hand left to soothe your skin, “she got all dressed up for us.” 
“Plus it’s hot as fuck to watch her work her little bud,” Marc pointed out. 
“Bien, bien,” Jake let it go. 
“Who do you want to make you come?” Steven asked, his hips never faltering as he continued to impale you with the fat member you craved.  
“I…um…uh…”
“Aw look Steven, we made her all cockdumb,” Marc cooed at you. 
Your current position prevented you from sending a dirty look at your husband. He wasn’t exactly wrong though.  
“I got her,” Jake volunteered. A moment later, a wet thumb circled your asshole and edged ever so slightly in. The extra stimulation, combined with your fingers frantically rubbing your clit, caused you to come with a high whine. You bore down on your husband’s big dick as the pleasure wracked you, so profound it was almost painful. 
Your husband held your hips steady as you drifted down from your orgasm and he sought his own release. You reflexively tightened around his spent cock when you felt the ribbons of his seed empty inside of you. 
You rolled over, lying on the bed sideways to look at them. Marc gazed back at you, examining your face with concern to make sure they hadn’t gone too hard on you, you presumed. Speech hadn’t returned to you just yet, so you sent him a toothy, satisfied smile instead. 
“You okay baby?” He asked. You nodded, allowing him to slide off your panties. 
Steven cut in quickly to follow up, “You need anything for your bum?” 
“I think I’m okay, hun, but thank you,” you assured him. He turned you around to take off your bustier for you as well. 
“‘Course,” he replied instantly, slowly standing to walk bow-legged to the bathroom and wipe his cum off of you. “They got a little carried away at the end there.” 
“Did not” you heard Jake snipe back.  
They reappeared with Marc’s stern expression on their features. “You sure you’re okay? Obviously we loved it, but….“
Jake butted in to finish his question, “Did you like it, nena?” 
“Yes,” your tone didn’t leave any room for doubt. Now a little more recovered from your orgasm, you could string together a sentence. “I loved it, it was just intense, and it was our first time being intimate like that.”
“We’re a bit full on, aren’t we?” Steven asked with wry self-deprecation, tossing the used flannel off to the side of the room and getting under the covers. 
“I love it,” you said once again, settling into his arms, “I married you after all.”
“Good,” Steven murmured. “You didn’t happen to bring more lingerie like that, did you?” 
***
Though the benefits to having a private pool were many…mainly that you and your husband could have pool sex whenever the mood struck, you did make it to the beach. It’d be a sin not to, and the image of Marc emerging form the ocean was one you’d lock in your mind until you died. 
He was dripping wet head to toe, dark hair slicked back with water, his trunks clinging to those muscular thighs that drove you wild, and his golden skin had darkened a shade from the sun. Though you knew your husband had once been entangled with an Egyptian deity, you couldn’t help but think that Marc would be quite at home in the Greek pantheon too, with a body and face like that. 
“Hey! You gotta get in,” he ran a hand through his hair, “It’s like bathwater.” 
“I think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” you blurted out. 
Marc shot you a wide, unguarded grin. “I already married you, you don’t need to keep flattering me anymore.”
“Shut up,” you tossed at him fondly. 
Marc lowered his still dripping body on top of you. You tried to wiggle away from him but Marc locked you in his grasp and attacked you with kisses all over your face, “I think that I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman with a more generous heart. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Marc,” your voice was thick with tears. It was one thing for Marc to be so playful with you, then add in such loving sentiments expressed to you so openly? You couldn’t help but get verklempt. Your husband had come such a long way - partly thanks to the work he did on his own, with his therapist, and of course you two refusing to give up on each other. 
“Baby, don’t cry!” He cajoled. 
“I’m not, I’m sweaty,” you joked. 
“Okay, then I was sweating at the temple,” Marc bantered back, referring to your wedding ceremony. “Will you please come swim with me? The most handsome man you’ve ever seen?” 
You shoved playfully Marc and got up to head to the water, “I give you one compliment…” 
***
Kate, one of your friends from work, had gifted you a couples massage at the resort for your wedding present. You weren’t sure how the boys decided which one would front for it, but when it was time to leave for the appointment, Jake was the one accompanying you. 
It was heavenly to have all of the wedding and travel stress massaged from your muscles, and no one was more deserving of rest & relaxation than your husband. Their body worked three jobs, plus there had been much strategizing and occasional hair-pulling for Marc and Jake about leaving things with their respective jobs in a place so that they wouldn’t come back from Greece to dumpster fires. Steven was mercifully on summer holiday, so his job was slow anyway. 
The pair of you left your joint session as pliable noodle-people. Jake took your hand as you ambled back to your suite. 
“I’m going to give Kate the biggest thank you,” you vowed. 
He seconded you with a content hum and opened the door to your room. 
“I’m going to take a shower, get all of this oil off of me,” you announced, padding into the bathroom, “honey, what did you do with my shampoo?” 
You routed around in his toiletries bag, thinking you’d found it, but what you produced was definitely not your stolen shampoo. 
Jake had followed you in and when he saw that you were holding the bottle of lube he brought, it was one of the very few times you’d ever seen him blush. You had no trouble getting wet, and you hadn’t brought any toys on vacation either, so what had he brought lube for…oh. 
All he’d wanted for the past few “special occasions” you two had shared (Hannukah, your anniversary, Daylights Savings Time) was anal sex. You weren’t opposed to the idea, but had required a gradual approach to it. To his credit, Jake had been wonderfully patient, and you’d become comfortable with a few of his thick fingers in your ass. 
Jake immediately began to backtrack, “I only brought it in case you wanted to—“
“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I mean I’m open to it, when in Greece on your honeymoon, right? 
Jake looked at you with barely contained eagerness. “Bueno, cuando quieres hacerlo?”
He knew that if he wanted a piece of your ass, he had to ask in advance. You were a lady and you had a certain mystique you had to maintain, not to mention preparation you needed to undergo. But, given that you were already pretty relaxed and going to shower anyway, now seemed as good a time as any. 
“No time like the present,” you suggested. 
“Wait, really?!” Jake reacted similarly to a little boy who’d been given his first bike. 
You couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at his response. “Yeah, I’m all loosened up after the massage and I’ll make this shower a thorough one. So while I do, vamos and make things extra romantic in the bedroom.” 
“Si Señora Lockley,” he basically road-runnered out of the bathroom. 
Jake took your task to heart – when you entered the bedroom, hair damp, lube in hand, towel wrapped around you — candles had been lit, music was playing softly, and he had even managed to get a bottle of champagne up to the room while you’d washed up. 
“Not bad Lockley,” you said after surveying the room. You tossed him the lube. “Not bad at all.”
He shot you a grin that was akin to a wolf who just caught sight of a rabbit. Jake gestured to the champagne, “Shall we? Loosen you up un poquito mas?” 
“Por favor,” you assented. You weren’t sure exactly what made the popping of a champagne bottle so sexual, but a little thrill zinged through you when your husband ejected the cork from its glass neck. 
“Cheers,” you thanked him when he handed you a flute, raising it to toast, “To…new beginnings.” 
Jake mimicked your movement, “A tí, mi amor.”
Your glasses clinked and the fizzy alcohol rushed down your throat. Jake's eyes never left your face. He watched you closely, anticipating the moment when he could finally touch you. 
You decided sooner was likely better than later, best get the show on the road before you could psych yourself out. Placing your flute down, you crossed to him, “Come here Papi.”
Jake flashed you another predatory grin and followed suit at once. “We don’t need this anymore.” His fingers tucked between the towel covering your skin and pulled it loose so the cloth fell around your feet. 
Jake was more intoxicated by the sight of your naked body than any amount of champagne in his system. He wrapped you into a kiss, plundering your mouth, his lips seeking to consume you. His hands, meanwhile, immediately dropped to your rear. 
Hoisting you up with a squeeze, he carried you over to the bed, depositing you on the mattress much more gently than a few nights ago. His mouth never left yours while he worked you to an orgasm on his fingers. 
Then, and only then, did Jake request you turn over, wedge a pillow under your hips, and leave a line of kisses down the length of your spine. 
You couldn’t help but squirm a little when he pulled your cheeks apart. You’d never felt more exposed in your life, but your husband was quick to quell any of your concerns when he asked in an awed whisper, “Nena, can I kiss you here?” 
“Mmm…oh-okay,” you consented and jerked again when you felt his hot breath on your most vulnerable spot, followed by a brush of his lips. 
Next came the snick of the cap of the bottle being opened, and moments later, Jake massaged lube around your wrinkled skin to coat it thoroughly. He may have been excited, but your husband knew he had to be gentle with you. 
Though Jake had gotten you accustomed to much more, you could never stifle the little “ah” you made when the pad of his finger breached your rim. He coaxed more of his digit inside of you, taking ample time to allow you to adjust. 
Jake checked in with you. “How does that feel?” 
“It’s okay,” you told him, “you can move.” 
He proceeded like that, constantly touching base with you as he fed two more fingers into your tight pucker. Your husband’s preparation was a steady stream of “are you okay nena?”, “you feel good? Papi wants you to feel good,” and other praise. 
So thorough was Jake in opening you up that he’d lost his erection by the time you’d given him the go-ahead to enter you. He wasn’t exactly miffed by this development, because he knew precisely how he wanted to get it back. 
Even more lube was drizzled onto your bum, then Jake slicked up his cock to wedge it between your plush cheeks and began to grind himself between them. There was no way to muffle the rumble in his chest at the feel of your ass smothering his cock, the lube providing the necessary slip, and he was damn near entranced by his cockhead reappearing each time from the cleft of your ass. 
You helped him, working your hips back to meet his while he humped you. It felt amazing, and your asshole clenched at the thought that he’d be inside you soon. Fucking your ass cheeks got Jake back to full mast in no time. You were beginning to lose yourself in the rhythmic sliding of your bodies when you husband draped himself over your back to ask in a murmur, “Can I put it in, nena?” 
“Uh huh,” you confirmed, “just go slow please.” 
“Claro que si,” Jake assured you, placing a kiss behind your ear before he straightened up. 
He applied even more lube to your now winking asshole and his dick before he notched the tip at your entrance. “Estas lista?” 
“Yes honey, please,” his cockhead at your pucker felt like a promise you were now desperate for him to make good on. 
Jake’s tip popped past the ring of muscle and you nearly bit down on the linens below you. It was intense, though not altogether painful like you’d feared. You focused on keeping your breathing even as your husband continued to sink inside of you, becoming lightheaded from the overwhelming feeling of fullness in your ass and the deep pulls of oxygen you were pumping into your lungs. 
“Bien?” Jake asked. The strain in his voice was evident. 
“Yeah,” was the most you could manage. 
“How do you feel?” 
“Like I want more,” you told him truthfully. The feeling of having your husband’s dick up your bum was dizzying, deliciously too much, like a scab you weirdly enjoyed picking. 
You experimentally fluttered your muscles around his length and even though Jake was a loving, patient man, even he could not resist the thrust and groan that the move prompted. “Feel good, Papi? Like everything you’ve wanted?”
Jake began moving his hips slowly, “And more.” 
While the view of the sea outside of your window was stunning, Jake didn’t think he’d ever seen a sight he’d enjoy more than his throbbing cock splitting your ass in half over and over again.  
“You…you feel so big like this,” you gasped. “So huge inside me.” 
“Joder, mami, you can’t just say things like that,” he cautioned you as he continued to plow you. 
“Buh-but I can’t help it,” you confessed, and your mind quickly supplied what to say next to drive him absolutely wild. “Fucking me so deep, Papi.”
“Nnnngnnn,” came Jake’s scintillating reply. By now, most of the burn had faded from your channel and you could focus on the delicious stretch in your rear from his cock.
You honestly couldn’t believe how good it felt. Fingers and fantasies were one thing, plus you were fully prepared to take one for the team, to be a good wife and try it even if you weren't keen on the idea. But now you were the slightest bit ashamed to admit that you kind of loved having a cock in your ass. Or maybe it was the fact it was your husband’s thick erection filling you. 
Jake’s brain did nearly explode when you began meeting his thrusts, rocking back on your knees so he could penetrate you deeper. Your ass was absolutely suffocating his cock with its heat and clench around him, he truly believed he could live inside of you forever if you’d let him. 
The two of you communicated exclusively in gasps in grunts, the slap of skin on skin reverberating throughout the suite while you drowned each other in pleasure. You knew when Jake picked up the rate of his thrusts and began growling that he was close and oh, it was different to have your ass filled with cum rather than your pussy. 
You’d barely recovered from Jake easing his cock out of you when you were flipped onto your back and your husband buried his face between your legs. A high-pitched moan tore out from you when his tongue probed your now slightly gaping asshole to collect his cum. 
Jake didn’t stop there, licking around your cleft and spearing his tongue to circle its tip around your sensitive rim. He only relented when you gently pushed his face away from overstimulation. Between your earlier orgasm and the passion of what you had just shared with Jake, you needed to rest.  
He rose back to be level with your face, whispering “thank you” non-stop as he collected you in his arms. “I guess I have to be extra good from now on.”
“Mmmm?” you sought clarification with a sleepy hum. 
“We need to do that again so I can’t piss you off anymore,” he explained. 
You chuckled. “Exactly right, esposo.” 
He inhaled deeply, taking a deep whiff of your hair to smell the faint citrusy scent of your shampoo before he left the bed. To his credit, Jake was excellent with the post-anal aftercare. He drew you a bath, ordered everything you wanted from (the heinously expensive in his opinion) room service, rubbed some petroleum jelly on your pucker to soothe it. He cuddled you in bed, long after the sun sank beyond the horizon, until you drifted off later that evening. 
***
“Good morning!” the concierge Helena greeted you as you approached her desk. 
“Hi there,” you chirped back. The boys slept in this morning, which gave you the opportunity to sneak down to the lobby and square away the details for today’s day trip that you and Steven planned on taking. “Could I please have a copy of the ferry schedule?”
“Of course, Mrs. Spector,” one week in and you still got a little flutter every time someone called you that, “where are you headed?” 
“Delos,” you told her. 
“A must when visiting Mykonos. We’d be happy to arrange a private tour of the island for you and your husband,” Helena offered, “We have relationships with a few exceptional guides on Delos and–”
“Oh that won’t be necessary,” you tried to turn her down gently. “But thanks for the offer.” 
“Are you sure?” she asked. “There’s so much history there.” 
“My husband’s a professor of ancient civilizations,” you explained as she passed you the little flyer with the ferry timetable, “he’s been researching Delos since we booked this trip months ago.” 
“Huh, I thought he said he was a consultant,” Helena’s colleague, a male concierge who’d welcomed you, chimed in. 
“He is,” you covered, thinking fast, “He teaches and consults with archaeologists on digs.” 
“You’ll be well set then” Helena concluded with a smile. 
“Yes,” you agreed, “I won’t be surprised if by the end of the day, I’ll be able to lead a tour of the island.” 
Your prediction was more or less correct. Steven’s eyes lit up as Delos came into view from the ferry’s bow. He’d already briefed you on the early history and beginnings of the island on the ride over. Anyone else, it would be pedantic and infuriating, but Steven was so genuinely invested that his urge to share about the island was endearing, his enthusiasm about its lore contagious. 
You two meandered through the breathtaking ruins hand-in-hand. Steven’s unofficial tour of the island was so engaging that you clocked a few American tourists loitering near you, eavesdropping to hear all of your husband’s in-depth knowledge of the different statues and remains of the site. 
Your husband remained blissfully oblivious, and you didn’t mind the audience. You’d gotten your picture at the Terrace of the Lions, and besides, Steven was at his best like this. You thought back to when you first met and started dating him: his hunched posture, general jumpiness, the way he’d hedge and second-guess himself. Those facets of him had already melted away to an extent now that all four of you had settled into a groove that worked for everyone, but when Steven had a chance to talk about the subjects he was passionate about, he was calm, confident, and charismatic. He shone brighter than the blazing Greek sun and it warmed your heart more than words could ever describe to see your darling husband so effortlessly in his element. 
So taken were you by his swagger that you interrupted his latest lecture about Cleopatra or something as you strolled to the Temple of The Delians, walking him back into one of the tall, ancient pillars to kiss him senseless. 
“Blimey,” he sighed when you broke apart, “what was that for?” 
You cocked your head playfully, “Do I need a reason to kiss my smart, sexy husband?” 
“No,” he conceded with a sheepish smile playing across his lips. 
You crowded closer to his body, his spine now pressed against the millennia-old, unyielding marble.
“These broad shoulders, all this golden skin…you look like a Greek god, you know,” you informed him while your hands traveled the cotton-covered expanse of his body. You pressed yourself impossibly closer to his body. 
“Careful,” he warned you,“because soon this column won’t be the only thing as hard as stone.” 
“Oh yeah?” Your tone was a playful challenge as you palmed his hardness through his shorts. 
He groaned, “Babe…”
You withdrew your hand from his crotch. “Wanna feel what you do to me? So we’re even?” 
He nodded feverishly to accept your offer and slipped his hand under the skirt of your sundress to dip his fingers inside of your lacy panties and feel you. 
“So wet,” he observed reverently, playing with your folds and bud, “All this for me?”
“It’s certainly not for the ruins,” you quipped. 
He slipped a finger inside you for your cheekiness, and you instantly tightened around him with a little whimper. 
“Only you could make me want to cut a trip to Delos short,” he mused, slowly withdrawing his finger from your cunt, wiping your wetness on your panties, so as not to draw any attention. 
“I’ll behave myself,” you promised, smoothing down your skirt. “Delos was your only honeymoon request.” 
Steven’s hand took yours once again. “This and more lingerie fashion shows.” 
You squeezed his hand, “Play your cards right and I'll give you a good one later.” 
***
You’d put on quite the naughty fashion show for Steven when you returned to the suite and between the vigorous fucking your little act had resulted in and a day of sightseeing in the sun, you two passed out cold post-coitus. 
Marc had woken up with you just as the sun disappeared below the horizon and suggested a dip to cool and rinse you off after your earlier lovemaking. You knew what “a dip in the pool” meant when your husband suggested it, but what you hadn’t expected was to be bent over your balcony in the Grecian twilight in the nude while your husband railed you from behind.
“Now this is a beautiful view,” he remarked as he pounded you. “I have the ocean and your ass jiggling without having to turn my head.” 
Words escaped you at the moment. You were bowed over the rail, indescribably full in this position, equal parts thrilled and terrified that people could see your husband using your pussy in the dwindling sun.
Marc pulled your ass cheeks apart to get a better look at his cock as it was sucked in by your cunt. He kept a hand holding you open while the other massaged the wrinkled skin of your pucker, causing you to convulse at the unexpected touch. 
“I get your ass next,” he declared, “It was so hot watching Jake take it…fuck, like a porno just for me and Steven. You were so beautiful.” 
You mewled. As dirty as Marc liked to be, he could never abandon his adoration of you. You belonged to one another, each of you placing your trust, respect, vulnerability in the other’s hands to have absolutely shameless sex like this. 
“Duh-duh-do…do you think anyone can see?” You wondered out loud. 
“Dunno,” Marc replied, still thumbing your asshole. “Probably not but I don’t care if they do, because you’re mine. Right, baby?” 
“Yeah,” you instantly concurred . “All yours daddy.” 
The use of the pet name spurred Marc to spin you around so that your back was up against the crossbeam that made up the railing. He hitched your leg around his thick hips and plunged back into your needy core swiftly. 
“So beautiful,” he repeated again now that you were facing each other. “So goddamn gorgeous.” 
“Such a slut for you Marc,” you rambled, your breath hitching when his hand dropped between you once more, this time to strum at your clit. 
“Fuck yeah,” he grunted. “My wife is a slut for me and only me, you’ve got everyone else fooled.” 
“It’s ‘cause you fuck me like this,” you provided, “‘s why I married you, no one else can make me come so hard.” 
Marc redoubled his efforts on your little nub, now fully peeking out from its hood. “That’s right, come for me baby.” 
Who were you to disobey? You had to bite your lip to muffle your mind as the fire of your orgasm licked through every corner of your body. Your hands gripped the wooden railing for dear life as it spread throughout your limbs. 
Marc followed shortly after you, burying his face into your shoulder as he released deep into your heat with a satisfied groan. He brought your lips together once he finished, capturing you in tender liplock, allowing his cock to soften inside you before extracting it. 
“Let’s never go back to London,” you proposed. 
You could feel Marc’s amused smile against your skin. “Deal.” 
Of course you had to, but it was nice to pretend as if you all didn’t have lives to go back to in two and a half days, even if only for a moment. 
***
The next morning, your last full day in Greece, you didn’t want to get out of bed. Your airtight, logical reasoning was if you didn’t wake up the day couldn’t start and pass you by. Plus, you were too comfortable to move. Your back and neck were supported by fluffy pillows, your legs were splayed open and damn, there was the most delightful sensation between them. 
It took embarrassingly long for your sleep and pleasure-addled brain to realize that your husband was feasting at you. You eyes blinked open to find the covers pushed back and his inky curls at the apex of your thighs. You moaned, and when he flicked his tongue in quick succession over your clit, you knew it was Steven. 
“Honey.” 
“Oh you’re awake,” he grinned, his chin wet from your slick when he briefly separated himself from your cunt to greet you. “Brilliant.” 
…And he went right back to eating you out like a starving man. You gasped, your fingers curled into his locks, and you jolted into a sitting position as Steven continued. Already the steady pulse of pleasure beat through you indicating that your climax was near. 
“How long have you been at this, baby?” 
“Dunno,” he murmured against your slit, “a while.” 
“Yeah?” Your voice was barely more than a rasp. “Woke up hungry for some pussy?” 
He moaned and nodded his head with his tongue firmly shoved against your bud and fuck, yep that did it. You came with a keen, your thighs trembling and your fingers clawing at the crisp white sheets.
Steven retreated some while your orgasm wracked your body, then dove right back in. You tried to twist away from him, still so sensitive, but Steven wrapped his muscled arms around your twitching legs to hold you still. 
“Baby,” you attempted to protest. 
“Need it,” he countered, his voice reedy. 
You pet his curls and tried to keep your legs steady as his morning scruff tickled your inner thighs. At least he eased back in to his assault on your cunt, dropping the lightest kisses on the crease where your thighs meet your groin before lapping at you once more.
He was trying to get as much of you wet as he could, it felt like, before he narrowed his target to just licking stripes from your asshole to your clit. Only once he had you dripping to his liking did he return to stick his tongue in your hole, gulping down your taste, moving to your clit shortly thereafter. 
By that point it didn’t take much for you to erupt on his tongue, awarding Steven another orgasm that you could feel from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. 
You were not proud to admit that you kind of zoned out at that point, Steven’s mouth enshrined you in a haze of pleasure so dense that you just kind of floated atop it. Your husband seemed to be having the time of his life down there, so you were more than content to submit his ministrations.
You couldn’t really remember your name anymore but did it matter? Did you actually need to know your name to receive all of this ecstasy? 
He pulled one - wait maybe it was two? - orgasms out of you - solely with his mouth before Steven’s fingers joined in. He performed a variation of your favorite move, sucking on your clit and instead of finger-fucking you, his digits pressed deep inside of your pussy. He stroked your walls,  fingertips searching for that special spot. He found it, then your sweet Steven proceeded  to abuse the ever-loving fuck out of it. 
You could feel the magnitude of the orgasm building rapidly, more rapidly than you were used to, yet nevertheless you canted your hips against Steven’s mouth and fingers as you hurdled toward your peak.  Your release arrived with a distinct feeling of letting go, an uncontrollable sensation, but Steven wouldn’t stop worshiping your pussy, which wrenched a pitiful, strained wail from your mouth as you peaked. 
It was as if you couldn’t stop coming. You'd never experienced anything like this before, and although it felt magnificent, it scared you some too. 
Steven’s voice brought you back. “Fuck, that was hot.”
Your vision returned and you peered down at him to ask, “Did I just squirt?” 
“Yeah,” he confirmed, his face a portrait of sheer wonder. “It was bloody amazing.” 
“Ohmygod” you reeled, words coming out on a rush. “I didn’t know I could do that.” 
A flash of movement caught your eye. Steven gripped his cock which looked painfully hard, the top purpled and leaking. 
“C’mere baby,” you cooed, motioning toward you. “Use my mouth.” You couldn’t do much currently, but you could do this. 
Steven didn’t need to be told twice, awkwardly walking on his knees so he was straddling your chest. You gave his erection a few swipes of your tongue before you looked up at your husband, your eyes beckoning him to fuck your mouth like he needed to after denying himself pleasure for so long. You gripped onto his muscled, pillowy ass cheeks while he feverishly pistoned his dick into the warm suction of your mouth, the loveliest little sounds and cries escaping him. 
Given the events of this morning, it wasn’t long before you were swallowing down Steven’s cum. The size of his load indicated how pent up he’d been, and you struggled to swallow all of his hot seed down in one gulp. Your husband swung his leg over your body and collapsed next to you, the two of you rendered silent after the intense lovemaking you’d just shared. 
“Blimey,” Steven remarked. “You alright, babe? Need anything?” 
You nuzzled into his chest. “I’m hungry.”  
“Yeah, we both worked up quite the appetite, didn’t we?” he chuckled. 
You joined in, amused. “If only we could subsist off each other’s bodily fluids.” 
“We definitely wouldn’t have left the room this week if that had been the case,” he pointed out. “I think the restaurant’s still serving breakfast if we hurry.”
“Can’t we get room service? I can’t move.” You pulled the covers over your head in protest. 
“But it’s so bloody expensive,” he bemoaned. 
You revealed your face to fire back, “Well, you should’ve thought of that before you made me squirt because you’ve rendered my legs useless.” 
Steven’s expression became tinged with concern. “You sure you’re alright?” 
“Yes,” you assuaged him once again, “but four orgasms tends to take it out of you. Plus, baby, it’s our last day here, we should treat ourselves.” 
Your husband relented, reaching for the in-room phone, “Want the bowl you had last time?”
You nodded, just absolutely beaming now that you’d gotten your way, and planted a wet kiss on Steven’s cheek as he placed your breakfast order. 
He pulled you close to him once more after he hung up, and you pondered as he held you, “I can’t believe I’ll be back at work in forty-eight hours. I’ll be meant to be catching up on emails and all I’ll be able to think about is how well you three fucked me.” 
Steven hummed in a mix of agreement and satisfaction. “We certainly made the most of it, didn’t we? It’ll be tough to go back to our usual routine and not shag at least two times a day.”
“How did we even do it?” you giggled. 
“No idea,” he played along, then tilted your chin up to kiss you gingerly, sincerely. “I think it’s safe to say our marriage has gotten off to a cracking start however.” 
You reconnected your lips, kissing him deeper. “Couldn’t agree more, my love.” 
A/N: hopefully this was worth the wait!! thank you again dawnsutopia for requesting and more fills to come soon! 
Taglist: @twwcs​, @rmoonstoner​, @hot-mess-express1​, @murdickdocked, @toracainz​, @saahmi​, @unspokenmoon​, @winterbiipp​, @avatarofseshat​ @ilikeoldermenhelp, @losers-club6​, @harrys-tittie​, @ninebluehearts​, @lucianadraven32​, @dawnsutopia​, @strawberry1042 @nikitawolfxo
Translations: 
Joder - Fuck 
Te gusta? Piensas que yo miro linda? - You like? Do you think I look cute? 
No, eres linda, pero ahora ves tan sexy - No, you’re cute but now you look so sexy 
Ven aquí - come here 
Por supuesto Papi - of course daddy
Joder si, nena - fuck yeah babe 
Bien, bien - okay, okay 
 Bueno, cuando quieres hacerlo? - good, when do you want to do it? 
Vamos - let’s go
Por favor - please 
Señora - Mrs. 
un poquito mas - a little more 
A tí, mi amor - to you, my love 
Claro que si - of course 
Estas lista - are you ready? 
esposo - husband 
2K notes · View notes
eds6ngel · 9 months
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✎ when i kissed the teacher | part five
summary: with summer break starting, it's time for you to pack up your things and leave hawkins elementary. so, will you be able to find a new job? and will you ever reunite with steve, the man that not only started this whole mess, but that you also love?
part one ♡ part two ♡ part three ♡ part four ˚⋆。˚ full masterlist.
warnings: dad!steve. singledad!steve. 90s!au. fem!reader. use of y/n. swearing. mutual pining. slow burn. a lil bit of hurt. tons of fluff by the end. mentions of food. job interviews!! slight age gap [r is 25, steve is 29]. roommate amy being the best friend we all need. no more warnings as this is the finale!! [3.6k].
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Finishing up your last week at Hawkins Elementary was not the easiest. Not only were you met with multiple days of children’s tears, hours spent reassuring them that everything was going to be okay, but the other teachers began to judge you. You would enter the staff room to dirty looks and ignorant comments. But, of course, adults bullying co-workers wasn’t fire-worthy, was it?
You packed your classroom up last Monday, the white walls, once covered in student’s artwork and decorative pieces, now bare. It made you feel melancholic and nostalgic simultaneously. Almost three years ago, you were walking into that first grade classroom for the first time, ready to made your dedicated space feel like home.
And now you were leaving, much earlier than anticipated. This should’ve been your second home for the rest of your life. But, now it was going to belong to someone else. Someone else was gonna fill the walls of student artwork, of decorative pieces, of their own little trinkets to display appropriate parts of their personality. It should’ve been you. It should’ve always been you.
Your permanent record was updated the day of your departure, the job search becoming increasingly difficult by the hour. Teaching positions cropped up everywhere, especially since you lived so close to Indianapolis, a mere twenty minute drive.
Yet, so far, none had even given you an interview offer. Many point blank stated that your record was the issue, the others you could definitely assume by their rejection wording.
The sound of your apartment door opening disrupts you from your job search, and from you continuing to stare into space.
Your roommate Amy arrives home with a paper bag full of groceries in hand, the fruit collection peeking out of the top. “How is your wonderful afternoon going?” she cheerily asks, a smile on her face, placing the groceries onto your kitchen counter.
You huff, placing your head in between your hands, “Shit. I’m not getting anything, Ames. I’m gonna have to resort to becoming a fashion retailer or something. I’m running short on money to split the goddamn bills with you.”
“Well,” she smirks, pursing her lips and creeping up to you, whipping a sheet of paper out from behind her back, “I may have a solution for you.”
You take the sheet of paper from her, inspecting the cover as it reads: TEACHING POSITION AVAILABLE. $30,000 ANNUAL SALARY. SECOND GRADE TEACHER. FULL-TIME. ERNIE PYLE SCHOOL 90.
“Ames, this is such a prestigious school! Aren’t they in, like… the top ten in Indianapolis or something?”
She hums, “Mhm, which is exactly why you should at least put an application in!”
You groan at her optimism, “I have a permanent mark on my record. They’re gonna turn me away the second they see it!”
She heads back to the kitchen, beginning to un-pack the groceries, mumbling out, “Well, you never know.”
And, she wasn’t entirely wrong. Even if it was a one in a million chance, a chance is still a chance.
“Screw it,” you thought, you were gonna put a damn application in. The highly likely rejection was just adding to the list by now, it wasn’t even a sharp sting in your heart like it used to be anymore.
Why not take a chance?
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And, my God, was that chance worth taking.
It was a Sunday afternoon, you relaxing on the couch reading your favourite book, when all of a sudden, the landline phone rings.
Amy was currently out on a date with her boyfriend, so you had the house to yourself. You put your bookmark in its place, moving from your comfy position on the couch with a groan, walking over to grab the phone from its stand placed on the wall. “Hello?”
“Hello. Is this Miss. L/N?”
“It is her, yes,” you reply, the voice of an older-sounding man speaking down the phone to you.
“Nice to hear from you, Miss. L/N. I am calling from Ernie Pyle School 90 regarding your application for the second grade.”
Great, another rejection to add to the overgrowing list.
“We do see that there is a strike on your permanent record, but we also do take notice that you have a lot of other qualities we admire here. So, we would like to bring you in for an interview, if that’s all right? That way, we can get a good idea of your character and what the strike really entailed from your perspective. Does that sound good with you?”
You had to knock yourself back into reality as the words are spoken down the line. They were actually offering you a fucking interview.
“Umm… Yeah! Yeah, that sounds amazing, thank you! When would you like me to come in?”
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So, two days later, you were dressed up in your smartest attire, walking into the brown-bricked building, the school a lot smaller than you had anticipated.
An older man, who seemingly matched the voice on your landline, greeted you at the entrance, the school empty for the Summer Break.
He directed you to his office, you neatly placing yourself on the chair in front of his desk, sitting appropriately, trying to appear as professional as possible.
“So, I’m sure you’re aware of the interview process from your previous work listed on your CV, so if you wouldn’t mind telling me a little about yourself,” he begins.
You breathe out, smiling at him, “Of course. I grew up in Indiana, more towards the north in a quite rural area. Growing up as a child in the seventies, I really felt under-appreciated as a student, as if I wasn’t valued. So, that’s where my love of teaching started to grow. I wanted to lead the next generation of students in a way that I felt, and many other of my friends at the time felt, would’ve been beneficial.”
“Well, as someone who has been working in schools since the seventies, I can see why you thought that way,” he chuckles. “It seems your generation has been the leader of change. Okay, we all know that students can become a handful at times. So, tell me, how would you deal with a stressful situation?”
“Well, firstly I would find the identifier of the situation by calmly asking the child what happened, as that helps me form a route to solve the issue. At my previous school, I had a student who got pushed into the mud and his favourite t-shirt got ruined, which made him extremely resentful and angry towards a boy. I got him a spare t-shirt to change into and promised I would scrub it out as best as I could during lunch break, which I followed through with. I then brought the two boys together, asking the other boy why he did it and he said that his friend allowed him to do it the previous day, so I taught the lesson of consent and how our feelings towards a situation can change from moment to moment. The boy apologised, the other boy accepted that and rode through his emotions. And by the end of the day, his t-shirt was just like before, mud stain-free. I’ve found that it’s much better for myself to understand the reasons behind something, instead of resorting to a lack of control over my own emotions and lashing out at one or both of them.”
The principal smiles at you, replying, “That’s a wonderful answer, thank you for that. Now, as you brought your previous school up, I do have to ask you about the strike on your permanent record. It says here that you, quote, ‘Broke student confidentiality,’ so I was hoping you could talk me through that situation. We here at Ernie Pyle like to overview a situation before immediately judging, much like yourself with stressful situations. So, please, go ahead,” he directs you.
You breathe out, trying to present your answer in a non-biased viewpoint, “There was a student’s father that I can confirm we both mutually did have feelings for each other. I set my boundaries in place last Christmas as he did try to ask me out, but I told him exactly that: student confidentiality. But, the school’s Easter Brunch rolled around, he helped me tidy up my classroom whilst the kids were on recess, and we kissed.” You purse your lips, having a sinking feeling that this was not going to secure you the job, “I would say he initiated it, but I also leaned in, because as I said, we both did have feelings for each other, so that part of my brain took over. However, I did pull back fairly quickly and asked him to leave promptly. The kiss was caught on the security cameras, and since it happened, I got fired for that reason.”
You bite your lip in nervousness, anticipating the rejection. However, you were presented with a far more mature answer that you were expecting.
The principal presents a thoughtful expression, “Hmm… I see. You said that you stated your boundaries before, yes?”
“I did sir, yes.”
“And that kiss was initiated by the male parent, to which you reciprocated for a short amount of time, before eventually pulling away, removing yourself from the damaging situation?”
“Correct, yes.”
He looks you in the eyes, leaning forward in his seat, “And have you contacted this parent outside of the school hours, whether that be after school, during school breaks or over the weekends?”
You shake your head, “I have not, no. The only time we spoke after school hours was when he aided me in running the school’s Christmas Fayre.”
“I see…” he pauses for a moment, “I’m going to ask you one more question before making my decision, if that’s all right with you,” to which you nod with a smile. “You worked at your previous school for three years, and I’m sure you’re aware that we really value applicants that have that prior experience. So, what skills have you learnt or improved as your time as a teacher of elementary school children?”
You look off to the side, sighing happily at the memories of your previous students. You turn your head to look back up at the principal, your answer coming confidently to your brain, no fears present. “I’ve learnt how to time manage and be organised. I would schedule my day in the morning to have certain worksheets and items stored in accessible places for me to switch over in between recesses and lunch breaks. Also, not all kids learn at the same pace, so I have to factor in extra activities for the children who complete their work a little faster than some of the other students. But, I think the most important thing I learnt was empathy. Children are just smaller, more innocent versions of us adults. I’ve found that many adults believe they must control their children, but I’ve learnt from my experience as a teacher that it’s better to approach every child with warmth, kindness and love. I’ve heard lots of children say that they hate school as young as five years old, and I want to be the one to change that. I want my students to feel safe and loved in my class, and for them to have it be one of their favourite parts of their day.”
He leans back in his chair, sighing out as he takes his glasses off, “I’m just… Wow. I am truly amazed by your answers, Miss. L/N. They are absolutely phenomenal. These are the exact values we like to promote here at Ernie Pyle and you would be a great addition to our team.”
Was he actually kidding? This sounded like an acceptance…
He sits in his chair with his eyebrows furrowed, a thinking look on his face, “However, I do run into this issue of your strike… But, I’m willing to find a way around it. Willing to put in some extra rules.”
You nod, perhaps a little too eagerly, “Anything. I’ll take on any extra rules you require.”
He looks at you once more, “Okay, I’m willing. These are what your rules are gonna be: You cannot speak to any male parent alone in your classroom, whether that be with their child present or not. If they ask you a question whilst dropping off their child, you must direct them to Mrs. Lane, who is going to be your teaching assistant. As well as this, obviously following the previous rules, no parent can aid you in any after school activities, events, or anything of a similar nature. If you need guidance with an event, you must ask another member of staff to aid you. These are the rules I’m offering you, okay?”
“Of course sir, I completely understand.”
“And I’m going to be super strict with this. If I even see you step slightly out of line, I won’t hesitate to add another strike to that record of yours. Do you understand?”
“100% sir. Absolutely,” you respond.
He smiles, raising from his seat, you copying his action as he extends his hand out to you, saying the words you’ve been waiting to hear for a long time: “You’re hired. Welcome to Ernie Pyle.”
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You walk into the front door of your apartment, your hair now a disheveled mess from the windy storm forming outside. Amy looks up from her seat on the couch, re-runs of old episodes of Friends playing on the TV mounted on the wall.
She simply snorts, “Jesus. You look like shit.”
You shut the apartment door behind you, replying with a chuckle, “Yeah, tell me about it.”
She stands up, walking over to you where you had dumped your purse onto the small table where the pair of you eat, “So, how did it go?”
You decided to play with your best friend’s emotions, sighing solemnly as you act sad, mumbling out, “Turns out I have to start taking care of kids five days a week again…”
She furrows her eyebrows, before gasping, putting her hand over her mouth in shock, “You got it?”
You smile widely and giggle, “Yeah, I got it.”
She screams a little too loudly, lifting you off the floor in a hug in excitement, squeaking out, “Oh my God, this is amazing! I told you you would get it!”
You part from each other, you playfully rolling your eyes, joking, “Yeah, yeah. You were right again.”
She smirks overdramatically, “Of course I am. When am I ever wrong?”
You chuckle as she jumps up and down, still in shock at your news, “Holy shit, holy shit! You have to call Steve!”
You part from her again, looking at her with a confusion expression as you let out a “What?”
“Steve. You know, the guy you’ve been crushing on for almost a year?” she says with a smile, “You have to call him!”
You sigh out, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Ames, they just put a bunch of extra rules in for me because of that whole situation. I don’t think they’d be very happy if I suddenly start speaking to him.”
Amy groans at you in frustration, “But, Y/N, he’s not your student’s dad anymore. What are they gonna do? Fire you by association? If anything, that’ll make them more at ease as you’ll be taken, so less likely to become flirty with other student’s dads!”
You let out a long breath, thinking over your best friend’s words, before shaking your head, “Nope! Nope! I’m not doing it, Ames!”
She nods eagerly, “Yes you are!” she teases, running back to the living room and grabbing the phonebook from off the bookshelf, before returning to grab your hand, dragging you onto the couch as you plop down. She shoves the phonebook into your lap, pointing at you, “You’re gonna look up his last name and I’m going to watch you pick up that phone, dial his number and call him. Okay?”
You huff, your breath blowing the hairs out of your face as you complain, “Fine! I’ll do it.”
Amy smiles widely, clapping her hands together and shouting, “Yay!”
You open the phonebook, flipping through until you reach the letter ‘H.’ You scan through the names, reaching the correct starting letters. Hare-, Hari-, Harp-, Has—
“Uh.. Ames?” you say, blinking rapidly, her humming at you, “It’s not in here.”
“What do you mean it’s not in there?” she questions, walking over and sitting next to you on the cream-coloured couch.
“His last name is Harrington. Look,” you point to the page, “It says Harps, and then skips on to names beginning ‘Has.’ He’s not fucking in here.”
“You’re not joking with me? You aren’t making up that name to not call him?”
You look her dead in the eyes, “I’m not kidding. He’s not in here.”
“I mean, he must be one of those rare people who really values privacy. Had his name removed or something,” she replies.
You huff, rolling your eyes and slamming the book shut, placing it back on the bookshelf, “I guess the Universe is telling me really not to go through with it, huh?” you direct at your best friend, turning around and storming into your room, closing the door forcefully behind you.
You would be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little bit disappointed… Okay, maybe more than a little.
But… maybe not all hope was lost.
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You and Amy took turns taking on the weekly adulting tasks, splitting the boring household chores between the two of you.
You had travelled into Indianapolis, grabbing your weekly groceries for the two of you. You were browsing the selection of cheeses, deciding which one would taste the nicest in relation to your budget. However, a tall man was leaning over you, trying to reach an item located above your head. However, once he spoke, you recognised that voice from anywhere
“I’m so sorry, I just need to grab—” The man looks down at you as you look up at him, your eyes connecting in an intense gaze, “Holy shit… Y/N?”
“Steve?” you breathe out, trying to register the fact that the man you thought you would never see again in your life is standing right in front of you. He’s wearing a Wham! t-shirt, light blue jeans, and a denim jacket in a similar shade. And my God does he look gorgeous.
And he thought the same about you as you stood there in your yellow, flowy dress. Perfect for the warm Indiana summer, and perfect for you. It hugged you so well, in all the right places. It made you look breathtaking.
“Um, hi! Hi… How— How are you?” he asks, blinking rapidly as he tries to form a sentence, his body still shocked from not only how beautiful you look, but the chances of you two meeting in the same grocery store out of your towns.
“I’m doing good, how have you been?” you respond, trying to keep the conversation as casual as possible.
“Pretty great, yeah…” He pauses for a moment, staring at the ground, afraid he would blush if he looked at you again, “Alena’s great too, by the way. Just in case you wanted to know…”
You nod, “I’m glad you two are doing good. I know that me leaving and all probably took a great toll on her, and I wanted to say sorry—”
However, he interrupts you, “Wait, you left the school?”
You sigh out, realising that Alena must’ve not shared the news with her dad, most likely too nervous to tell him that it was because of his actions. “Yeah… I got fired. They caught us kissing on the security cameras and you know… student confidentiality, you know all about that shit.”
“Shit…” he breathes out, sinking in the fact that his actions were the reason for your job loss. “I’m sorry. I never should have kissed you. It was completely my fault and I—”
But now, it’s your time to interrupt him. You giggled, “Steve, I promise, it’s okay. Besides…” you look up, smiling, “I may have found a better teaching job that pays more anyway. You kind of saved me in a way.”
He chuckles awkwardly, “Yeah… I suppose I did…”
The two of you laugh together before the air falls into silence again, the sounds of regular shoppers and beeping machines filling the atmosphere.
Steve was the one to speak what seemed to be the thought lingering on both of your minds, “So… Does that mean I can ask you out again?”
You decide to tease him, “Depends what’s in store, Harrington.”
He laughs at your comment, “Well, I was thinking I pick you up, I take you to a fancy restaurant, and then we shoot the shit, see where the night takes us… Not in a sexual way of course! I just mean in general…” He mentally face-palms himself. Why did he have to phrase it like that?
You giggle at his ramblings, “I like the sound of that,” you smile up at him, your heart fluttering all the more faster, “When are you thinking for?”
“Um… Friday night, seven o’clock at your place?” he asks.
And you verbalise the answer that he’s been wanting to hear for almost a year, the two of you finally being allowed to love each other: “It’s a date.”
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and that's the end!! i hope you all enjoyed this five part series, i had so much fun writing it!! now... where do we go from here?
so, if you've checked out the masterlist to this series, you may have noticed the 'spinoffs' section. that's because i'm giving you guys leverage over the future of this little au!!
so, what spinoffs would you like to see? steve and r's first date? them officially getting together? first outing as a couple with alena? even future down the line? it's totally up to you, these are merely suggestions!!
i will be opening my asks back up next week for this series only, so i can't wait to see what scenarios you guys come up with!!
as always, thank you for dedicating your time to reading this entire series, it means so much to me!! ♡
taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @nix-rose @ihatepeanutss @cats00089 @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @crowssixof @starkeylover @eris-rose-86 comment if you wanna be added/removed from the spinoffs taglist!!
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bloodlustngore · 1 year
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Case File
This one-shot is taken from my Emily Prentiss one-shot book from Wattpad (you can find it under the name kissingprentiss) I’m trying to figure out how masterlists work again so bare with me!
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Emily has to finish the final part of the new case file, Emily happily sits up in bed going over the files while she cuddles her wife. Who just wants her to get some rest.
Warnings: None
Word count: 1200
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Emily came home late tonight straight from a case that she'd been on for the passed three days. The moment she got in she wrapped her arms around you and pulled you into the biggest hug and quite a few kisses. You had missed your wife so much and glad to have her home, finally.
Emily hopped into the shower while you put a pizza in the oven for her, it was ten p.m at night but you knew she'd be hungry.
~~~~
You had hoped that Emily would've relaxed a bit but she mentioned she had to get this case file report done before tomorrow. Which you understood, considering you do paperwork most of the time at your job other than being a nurse.
Emily had put her reading glasses on, you always teased her about how 'nerdy' she looked but she looked cute in them to. Not to mention the fact you also found that her wearing glasses was extremely attractive. You walked back into the bedroom after the pizza had finished cooking, putting it on a plate and splitting it into fours. Instead of Emily being sat at the desk in the bedroom, she was sat up in bed reading the case files.
Now Emily is usually sat at the desk, going over cases which she usually doesn't want you to see, although it's too late for that now you've been together five years and then married two, so all together seven years, so you knew what came with Emily and that was this job. Not to mention the fact you were targeted by someone dangerous from her past. But that was over a year ago.
Emily looked up from the file and gave you a smile. You placed the plate of pizza on the bedside table next to her side on the bed, which you usually slept on whenever she was away on cases...or that was Sergio' spot on the bed whenever she was gone. Speaking of Sergio the cat, you and Emily needed to pick him up from Penelope's tomorrow.
You were only in lounge wear so you decided to get changed and right in front of your wife. Glancing really quickly to see if Emily was watching as you stripped out of your t-shirt and lounge shorts. The older woman had her eyes on you. Taking off your bra you let it fall to the floor and quickly went to grab a t-shirt from the closet. And of course it had to be one of Emily's. You'd just sleep in your underwear tonight considering it was quite warm.
You turned to see the older woman biting her lip, she smirked at you and gestured you to come and take your place beside her in bed. Crawling up the bed and getting under the covers, you rested your head on your wife's shoulder as she continued to look over the file.
"Em, how aren't you tired" you chuckled. The silver-haired woman turned to face you and placed a quick kiss on your lips. God, you missed her. And all you wanted for her to do was relax. Despite this case being a big one.
"A lot of coffee" Emily chuckles. You roll your eyes and remember a time when Emily had tried to cut back on coffee, but it didn't work out the way she wanted it to, and inevitably started drinking it again.
You buried your head into the crook of Emily's neck, as both of you were still sat up in bed. You were trying to distract the silver-haired woman, but also make sure she's relaxed enough. Emily gasped slightly at the touch of your breath on her neck. But she didn't warn you not to and that she was still technically working.
You placed a gentle kiss to her neck and Emily let out a sigh of relaxation. "Y/n, honey. I'm trying to work" Emily warned. There it was that warning.
"Emily, my love it's very late at night. The case file will still be here in the morning." You added, trying to convince her to get some rest and also cuddle. Which was your main goal. You hated sleeping when Emily was away on a case, when she isn't here to cuddle you or help you sleep. Emily hated that to, and for every time she had to sleep at a hotel during a case, she'd call you or text you until one of you managed to fall asleep.
Emily was about to protest when you all of a sudden sat up onto her lap under the duvet, that was until you surged forward and crashed your lips against hers. Emily couldn't refuse that, she never would. So the older woman kissed back, her hands falling to your waist, trying to pull you impossibly closer, you let out a soft moan when Emily deepened the kiss with her tongue.
As she was about to flip you over to your side of the bed, the case file slipped between both you and her, falling to the floor, some photos of it falling out. Emily was about to get up and pick it up from the floor.
"Nuh uh! We're going to bed, the file will still be there." You protested, pouting at your wife. "Y/n let me pick up the file and put it away first" Emily added, in a very serious tone. Which you found extremely hot.
You sat up in bed again, watching as Emily picked up the case file and put it all back together. Emily had a place for these things that were kept hidden, well sort of. You knew where they were.
"Can we cuddle now?" You asked, pouting at the older woman. Emily nodded her head and gave you a smile, joining you in the bed, taking her reading glasses off and putting them on the bedside table. The two of you got under the covers. Emily wrapped her arms around you protectively. Pulling you into her. A sigh of relief left both hers and your mouths, feeling content cuddling.
"I'm sorry of I seem a bit more frustrated and distant in a way Y/n. It's just this case it's a huge one." Emily whispers.
"It's okay Emmy, I know. I understand so you never need to worry about me never understanding you. This case is a big deal, you will catch this guy even if you do have to go through multiple unsubs to get to him" you mentioned. Emily tucked a few strands of your hair behind your ear, giving you a smile. You smiled back and she placed a kiss to your lips.
"Goodnight my love" Emily says.
"Goodnight Emmy" you replied. You changed over to your other side, Emily wrapping her arm over your stomach again, pulling your back against her chest.
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natsstar · 1 year
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a coffee house in italy.
pairing: scarlett johansson X fem reader
warnings: fluff & angst (sad ending) implied age gap (definitely legal)
word count: 3,900
summary: you travel abroad after graduating college in an attempt to find yourself- who will you meet along the way?
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Turning twenty-two felt like treading water. Exhausting, but necessary. You spent your last year of college going through the motions, graduating with good enough grade to be considered “smart”, yet you had no jobs lined up and no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You found yourself back at home in your childhood bedroom, watching from the sidelines as your friends started their internships in New York and Chicago, doing whatever the fuck they wanted. You had aspirations sure, but it seemed like opportunities weren’t falling into your lap like they were for everyone else. Soon you found yourself researching flights– not to anywhere specific, mostly just anywhere but here. You proposed the idea to your parents over dinner, watching them exchange worried glances but refraining to protest, understanding that they couldn’t stop you.
Croatia’s beautiful. You spend two weeks in Split– walking around, buying coffee, reading by sea cliffs and swimming until sunset. Traveling alone has a sort of otherworldly feel to it– something you never thought you would experience. Something about watching the sun sink below the horizon without any distractions, just you and the world– it’s magic.
You hop on a boat to Italy once you decide it’s time for a change of scenery. It’s a sailboat and the captain doesn’t speak English, but you don’t mind. You sleep on top of the deck for the few nights you’re overseas, taking in the salt air and wondering what Italy might bring. You end up docking in the Amalfi Coast, parting ways with the captain and heading into town, finding an inn with a few open rooms and booking a three week stay.
You spend the first week wandering around town, trying coffee at different cafes and finding cute girls to talk to on the beach. You find that the people here are much nicer than you expected and Italian citrus is ten times better than anything you can find in the United States. You quickly become acquainted with a coffee shop a couple blocks away from the inn, relishing how quiet it is and how you can hear the ocean when you sit at the table by the window. You begin going there everyday, sitting at the same table and sipping coffee as you read books about sapphic lovers in ancient worlds, getting lost in the fantasy of it all.
You get up earlier than usual one morning, grabbing your book and walking towards the coffee shop, the sun only just coming up and the morning air crisp. You want to watch the sunrise from your favorite table, chat with your favorite barista in broken Italian and feel what it’s like to be the only one awake. You open the door, the little bell chiming, but you stop in your tracks momentarily– there’s a woman at your table. It’s rare for someone to be here this early in the morning let alone at all. You shrug it off, sitting at a table on the other side of the room after ordering a black coffee. The woman doesn’t seem particularly friendly, as she’s wearing a headscarf and sunglasses, despite being indoors. She’s tapping away on her computer, clearly very focused on something. You pay no mind, sipping your coffee and reading your book until you can find a reason to leave.
You come in the next three days at the same time each morning, and each time she’s still there, still at your table. Every time you walk in, you give a longing glance towards her, sitting in your favorite spot, before going to the table across the room and doing your same morning routine.
The fourth day you’re getting desperate. She’s still there and you want that stupid table. It had the best view of the ocean and that’s something you just aren’t able to give up. On your walk from the inn you tell yourself that if she’s there again, you’ll take it as a chance to possibly make a friend. Maybe the two of you could bond on how great the view is. You walk in through the door and she’s there– of course she’s there. You head towards the table and loom over her, willing her to peel her eyes away from her computer screen.
“Hi. Uh– I’m Y/N. Can I sit here?” you’re nervous as she gives you a smile and nods.
You sit down across from her, setting your book and coffee on the table, “Sorry I don’t mean to bother, this is just my favorite table and– I promise I’ll be quiet, just pretend I’m not here.” You look down at your book, a little bit flustered. There goes the friendship possibility.
She takes off her sunglasses, “I’m Scarlett,” her voice raspy from the morning air.
You whip your head up, a little shocked to see another American. And that’s when your eyes go wide, your mouth clamping shut and your body going rigid. Scarlett Johansson. It’s fucking Scarlett Johansson goddamnit.
“Yeah hi um–” you stutter, “I’m Y/N, hi” you squint your eyes, wincing as you realize that’s the second time you’ve introduced yourself.
She pretends not to notice, giving you a warm smile in return, “Are you here on vacation? I’ve seen you here in this coffee shop almost everyday this week.”
“Um I- no. Well yes? I’m just,” fuck. “I’m taking some time off I guess,” you say, trying your best to breathe and regain whatever drop of composure you have left, “I finished University in May and wanted to just-” you pause. What were you doing here? “Find myself. I guess.” You let out a little laugh, trying to seem less awkward. In your defense, you have had very little human interaction over the past few weeks.
She gives you a knowing nod, “Gotcha.”
“And what are you doing here?” you press on.
She thinks for a moment, “Same as you. Finding myself. I guess.” She gives you a little knowing smile and goes back to her laptop, typing away.
You stare at her for a moment before opening up your book, doing your best not to sneak too many glances at the woman in front of you for your remaining time in the coffee shop. You smile to yourself– maybe you do have a new friend.
The next morning she’s there again, and you wordlessly sit across from her. It becomes a regular thing– her being there each morning and you with her, the two of you coexisting. There’s usually very little small talk, just some chatting here and there about what the two of you have been up to before going to your separate tasks. She always gives you a smile as you walk up to your table, and as the days go on you see her getting more comfortable, noticing that she takes off her sunglasses and headscarf when you walk in.
A week goes by and you begin to pry, asking her questions about what she’s working on, how long she’s staying, what she’s been doing in town, etc. She gives vague answers, but you’re satisfied, knowing that you’re probably the only person she’s had a conversation with in a week, and her definitely being the only person you’ve talked to in a month. You learn that she comes here every year, staying in this small little town for a few weeks to “cool off” and take time away from her work. She doesn’t specify what “her work” is, but you nod and smile, never letting her know that you’re very well aware of who she is and what she does.
It’s the last day of your reservation at the inn and you go into the shop at the same time you always do, book in hand and ready to spend your last morning in Italy as you had for the past three weeks. You’re not sure where you're heading next, but having no place to stay, you’re prepared to head to the docks after you have your morning coffee and find a boat to hitch a ride on. You walk in and the air is stiller than usual and it’s dead silent– Scarlett isn’t there. You’re a little sad that you won’t be able to say goodbye to her, but you go on ordering your coffee and settling down at your table anyways. You’re about thirty minutes into reading your book, when you hear the little door bell ding and look up to see who’s walking in. It’s Scarlett– she walks right up to your table, but doesn’t sit down.
“Hi. Y/N,” she says, looking a little bit flustered.
“Scarlett,” You return, looking up at her from your seat.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” She asks, avoiding your eyes, “I could charter a boat for the day, and I kind of just want to get away for a minute.”
“Yes,” you say, eyes wide, “Yes, yeah that sounds fun.”
The two of you head to the docks and maneuver your way into a boat rental. You’re surprised to find out that Scarlett knows how to sail, and you watch her hoist the sails up and untie the boat from the dock before taking off. You two haven’t said much to each other by this point, besides when you offered to chip in for the rental, resulting in her shooing you away, saying she would cover it.
“I’m sorry if this is weird,” Scarlett says, breaking the silence, “We barely know each other, you’re just the only person I’ve really had much contact with during my trip and I-” she pauses for a moment, tying a knot, “I guess I just didn’t want to be alone today.”
She’s not looking at you as she’s running around the boat getting everything into place, but you smile, “I appreciate it, actually. I love traveling alone so far, but it can get very lonely.”
She finishes up and takes a seat next to you, letting out a sigh as she finally starts to relax. “I know a little island- it’s only a couple miles away. I figured we could dock there, explore the beach maybe. If that’s okay with you,” she turns her head to look at you and you turn to look back.
“Sounds great,” you respond, “I don’t have any plans so works for me,” you let out a small laugh. You realize that you haven’t really been able to get a good look at her, the two of you really only sharing small glances in the coffee shop, her head usually buried in her computer. You notice that her eyes are green- very green actually, and if you look hard enough there’s little flecks of gold in them. There’s dark circles under her eyes, and she looks like she hasn’t been sleeping well, but she’s still sunkissed and glowing, her hair a golden blonde under the sun.
“So,” she starts, “Have you found yourself yet?” There’s a sparkle in her eyes and you’re having trouble ripping your eyes away from hers.
You stare at her for a second before responding, “Oh! Well, um,” you certainly do not know how to answer this question. “I’m not sure. I’m definitely having a good time exploring new places and what not but– does anyone ever really find themselves?”
With that she gives you a small smile, “Good question.”
You watch as she lays back, closing her eyes as she basks in the sun.
“We should be there in about twenty minutes,” she mutters.
You turn away from her and look out towards the open ocean in front of you. The water is the bluest you’ve ever seen, a deep aqua with the sunlight bouncing off of it perfectly. Lifting your head towards the sky, you sink into deep thought. You woke up this morning with the intention of venturing off to another country, yet here you are, on a boat, with Scarlett Johansson. You imagined yourself doing some cool shit, sure, but this– you never could’ve predicted this. For the first time in a long time you feel no pressure, no stress and no dread for the future. You’re in a beautiful country with a beautiful woman, what more do you need?
After a long while of zoning out, you hear Scarlett jostling next to you, “Almost there, just a couple more minutes- hey look there’s the island,” she points ahead at a quaint little island, it has white sand and crystal clear water.
“How good of a swimmer are you?” Scarlett asks, adjusting the sails and preparing the anchor.
“I’m alright, why?” you ask.
“Well there’s no dock, the island’s too small, so we’re gonna have to swim to shore. It’s really not bad, pretty do-able in my opinion,” she says, shooting you a wink from her post.
You let out a little laugh, “Alright.”
After a couple more minutes, Scarlett drops the anchor. You peer over the edge of the boat, looking at the distance between you and the island.
“You ready?” Scarlett calls from behind you.
You look over your shoulder to see her throwing her flowy shirt and her shorts to the side, leaving her in a blue bikini. The sight of her in so little clothing has you flustered, but you try to cover it up by lifting your dress over your head and throwing it into her pile of clothes.
She makes her way over the railing, balancing on the side of the boat, ready to jump in. You join her, taking the hand she offers you as you climb over the railing to reach her. The two of you stare down at the deep blue, standing shoulder to shoulder. You look at her with a pained smile, and Scarlett just offers you her hand in return. You take it, the wicked grin on her face telling you there’s no turning back.
“Ready?” Scarlett asks.
“As I’ll ever be.”
The two of you jump and hit the water with a splash, you clutching onto her hand until you physically couldn’t anymore. You both come up for air laughing, Scarlett sending a little splash your way before swimming towards the island. The water is the perfect temperature as the two of you make your way towards the shore. You try to take it all in, diving under the water and coming back up again in utter bliss. Scarlett looks even more perfect a couple feet ahead of you, her wet hair flowing behind her. Every time she looks back at you, your heart skips a beat. You make it to the island mildly exhausted, sitting in the sand right on the shoreline trying to catch your breath. Scarlett’s completely unphased, running out of the water and onto the sand, a huge smile on her face. You sit there, breathing heavily as the water laps at your stomach, watching as she runs in circles before petering out.
“God I fucking love it here!” She yells, flopping onto the sand in a heap of giggles.
You let out a breathy laugh, mostly just happy to be sharing this moment with her.
“You come here often huh,” you say, crawling out of the water and onto your knees in the warm sand. “Is that why you learned to sail? So you could come here whenever you want?”
Scarlett looks at you for a moment, you notice her eyes flashing something– pain maybe, but her smile stays the same.
“No, uh.” She looks down, making shapes in the sand with her finger. “My ex taught me.”
You nod, dropping the subject.
The two of you sit in silence for a moment, catching your breath and taking in the salty air.
“Hey Scarlett.”
“Yeah?”
“When are you leaving?”
She doesn’t make eye contact, her gaze on the horizon. “Tomorrow.”
You knew she had to go eventually, but the pang in your chest is prominent. You look at her while she looks at the water, silently thanking her. You get up and walk over to her, she looks up at you questioningly, but you offer her your hand and she takes it. You hold her hand tight and run towards the water, the two of you jumping in with a loud splash and a fit of giggles.
You spend the rest of the afternoon laying on the beach, eventually jumping in once it got too hot and repeating the cycle until the sun started to set.
By the time the two of you make it back to the boat, the sky is exploding with color, pink and orange paint the clouds above you.
“Shouldn’t we get the boat back?” You ask, wringing your hair out over the side of the boat.
Scarlett leans on the railing, her focus on the sun as it slowly sinks. “No point trying to get back in the dark. We can sleep on the deck, I’ll pay the guy extra tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” you whisper, trying to hide the smile creeping up your face. “I’m going to go below deck to try to find some towels or blankets, or something,” you say, beginning to shiver in your wet bikini. You climb down the ladder and eventually fish out a couple wool blankets, bringing them to the deck and laying them out.
You climb under one of the bigger blankets, curling up as you watch the sky change colors. Out of the corner of your eye you see Scarlett coming, walking towards your spot on the deck. She had to be cold as well, also still in a wet bikini. She gently lifts your blanket and climbs under without saying a word, laying close enough so that you can feel her body heat, but not touching. The two of you lay there as the sky darkens, looking up at the sky as the day fades away.
“Scarlett,” you whisper.
“Yeah,” she whispers back.
“Who do you want to be?”
The question catches her off guard, laying there without saying a word for a long moment.
“A good mom,” she finally answers in a low whisper.
Your heart aches. “What makes you think you aren’t?”
Scarlett takes a sharp intake of breath. “My daughter- she’ll never understand why me and her dad aren’t together anymore. I just wish-” Scarlett takes a long pause, letting out a sigh. Not knowing what to say, you find her hand under the blanket, lacing your fingers in hers and squeezing. “I wish I could be with him, for her, but I can’t. I just can’t.”
You lay there in silence, listening to her breathe and wishing you could take away her pain. You watch as the first stars are uncovered, admiring how bright they look out here. You listen to the waves lightly lap at the boat, the gentle sway making your eyelids feel heavy. You think about what you’ll do tomorrow, wondering what’s in store for you next. Maybe Switzerland you think, spend a couple weeks hiking through the Swiss Alps, smell the mountain air and hopefully find a different woman to help you forget about the one next to you. You begin to drift off, the sun and excitement of the day finally wearing on you. In your last few moments of consciousness you feel your hand being released as a warm arm comes across your body, wrapping around your waist and pulling you in. You hold her just as tight, your head in her neck, falling asleep to the rhythm of her breath and the smell of her skin.
You wake up slow, first noticing the sound of the waves and the gentle rock of the ship. You then become aware that Scarlett’s still wrapped around you, the two of you entwined together underneath the blanket. You melt into her, trying to take in as much as you can. You focus on the way her bare skin feels against yours, the way she smells like sea salt and sweet perfume, and the way she clutches you tight, even in her sleep. You wish you didn’t have to leave this boat, leave her, leave this moment.
You feel her start to wake up, her legs starting to fidget beneath yours and her fingers sliding up to run through your hair. The sun starts rising and you sigh, knowing that it means goodbye. You feel a lump in your throat, tightening your hold on Scarlett’s body.
“Not yet,” you whisper into Scarlett’s shoulder.
“I know love,” she whispers back, her fingers gently detangling your hair as you try to absorb every part of her that you can.
Eventually she gets up, leaving you as she goes to prepare the ship. You watch her pull up the anchor and ready the sails, silently begging her to come back and lay there with you forever. You heave a sigh, getting up and pulling your dress back over your head before tugging the blankets back below the deck. You sit back down on the deck in silence as Scarlett starts steering towards the mainland. You don’t say a word the entire trip back, sitting with your knees tucked into your chest and staring out at the waves in front of you, trying to keep the tears away. Scarlett doesn’t say anything either, but you don’t look at her, trying to ignore the ways her eyes light a fire within you. The sun’s almost completely risen by the time the two of you reach the dock, Scarlett reaching over the side of the boat to securely tie it in. She walks over to where you’re still sitting, not ready to get up yet. She holds out her hand and you take it, standing up to face her.
She moves a piece of salt caked hair out of your face and holds your eye contact, “Where are you heading next?” she says, giving you a soft smile.
“I was thinking Switzerland,” you say back, giving her your best smile. “I thought maybe spending some time in the mountains would be a good idea…” you start to trail off, avoiding her eyes.
She puts a hand on your face, lightly cupping your cheek, “Don’t be sad darling, not over me.”
You pull her into a tight hug, holding her for as long as you can, breathing her in for the last time. She holds you just as tight, the two of you clutching each other in silence.
Eventually you pull away, Scarlett’s hands holding your face as she looks into your glassy eyes. “Find yourself my love,” she whispers. You lean into her and she reciprocates, pulling your face to hers, allowing your lips to meet. You kiss her with everything you have, knowing it’s the first and last time you’ll ever have her lips on yours, letting your hands roam over the parts of her body you longed to last night, sliding your fingers up her spine and tangling them in her hair. She pulls away, giving your hand a squeeze before she steps off the boat. You watch her walk down the dock, the perfect bubble the two of you had created bursting around you. You turn away, peeling your eyes from her figure as she disappears from your line of sight.
“Switzerland,” you whisper to yourself, wiping away a stray tear.
edit: i hope you like this it made me violently upset lmao
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shwoo · 1 year
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Grumpus Headcanons (2/3)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Part two of unnecessarily detailed Bugsnax headcanons, and I had second thoughts about splitting it into three after sleeping on it, but ph well! Too late to change it now!
But I will put part of it under a readmore, because even if the word count isn't quite in the thousands, it's still a big wall of text.
I only arranged these by character surname by surname so that Jamfoot The Secret Guy wouldn't be first, but... I guess putting him exactly in the middle didn't work out how I wanted either.
Character Headcanons (Alegander Jamfoot - Shelda)
Alegander Jamfoot He was not expected to survive being stationed in the Triplicate Space. Maybe he was too openly ambitious, or saw something he wasn't supposed to, or was just kind of annoying. He knows he upset someone, which is why he suspects it's a punishment. It's normally almost impossible to survive on Snaktooth Island alone for more than a few months, because the less outside stimulation someone has, the easier it is for the cravings to take precedence. Jamfoot lasted more than a year in part because he was so focused on his research, but he was already experimenting with eating Bugsnax when Bronica's expedition came along. If they hadn't given him something else to think about, he definitely would've died.
Journalist Their most successful story is probably the Soylent Grump story Lizbert mentions in the opening. Soylent Grump was a meal replacement that the manufacturers claimed was made of soy and lentils, but according to rumours, it was secretly made of Grumpuses. Grumpus DNA was eventually found in some of the products, which didn't help. The Journalist ended up breaking into the main factory, and discovered… that Soylent Grump was made of soy and lentils. But also, the safety standards were so bad that bits of factory workers were ending up in the food. Once they knew that, the Journalist found a whistleblower and published an exposé. They believe that this proves that there's always a story, even if it's not the one you expected. Clumby thinks they got lucky.
Bronica Lottablog Not sure about her personality (intense?), but she cowrote a series of books about zoology and history aimed at kids. She started doing this about ten years before her disappearance, and the books did so well that they stayed in print for another ten years after her disappearance. Most of the cast are at least aware of them from their childhoods, except for Wambus, Cromdo, and Shelda, who are too old. Gramble would be a little too young, but his school's library was underfunded and extremely out of date. The Journalist had Bronica's book about cryptids, which they read so much it fell apart.
Triffany Lottablog The Lottablog method she mentions in her interview was her own invention, and is fusion of archaeological techniques and the adventuring techniques her (non-archaeologist) grandmother used. It's actually quite effective, and part the reason she's a "leader in [her] field". It's a bit of a high risk high reward thing, but it hasn't got her killed yet.
Lizbert Megafig She really likes standing dramatically on high places, like one of the pictures in her hut. If she's standing around somewhere, especially outdoors, she'll climb to the highest place she can get to, without really thinking about it. I'd say she likes to be tall, but she already is pretty tall. The Snaxsquatch's tendency to stand dramatically on high places might be related to this.
Wambus Troubleham It is very difficult to grow sauce plants, on or off Snaktooth Island. They basically are normal plants, but they normally don't grow very well. The island helps them along because they make it easier to lure in hosts. Wambus was just so stubborn and good at plants that he figured out how to get them to grow without the island's interference. It was still a struggle to get them to sprout, especially since the soil on the island is not very good. His success at growing sauce didn't influence his decision to try to grow Bugsnax like plants, though. He started both projects at the same time, and the sauce is the one that worked out.
Wiggle Wigglebottom Wiggle is not her given name, but it is the name she's gone by since childhood, as well as the one she uses professionally. It's a nickname based on her surname, and the way she's always moving around. It actually does sound slightly silly, even to Grumpuses who think Filbo Fiddlepie is a super normal thing to be called, but everyone's used to it at this point.
Beffica Winklesnoot She didn't join Lizbert's expedition until the night before they left, during the getting-to-know-you party that Filbo definitely threw. She ran in halfway through and asked if this was the expedition to the deserted island a long way from here. She'd just been kicked out by her roommate, and was also worried about legal action, but she didn't bring that part up. Lizbert felt bad for her, though Eggabell was more suspicious at first.
Shelda When she asked the Journalist to bring her a Bugsnak for her first sidequest, she really wasn't intending to eat it at the time. She wasn't going to have the light of Mother Naturae purge it either, because that's not really a thing. She just wanted to look at one up close, while also preparing to convince the Journalist to stop bringing people Bugsnax. But she hadn't had proper food in a long time, and she convinced herself that just one wouldn't hurt. And nobody would notice anyway. Even though they absolutely would.
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garciaasfluffypen · 1 year
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bright beginnings pt 7.
pairing: single dad!joseph quinn x fem!reader  wc: 1.5k  warnings: none
part six • part eight
a/n: IM SORRY IM SORRY I DIDNT NOTICE THIS WENT INTO THE BOTTOM OF MY QUEUE BECAUSE MY DUMBASS DIDNT SCHEDULE THE POST anyway enjoy a joe pov as a lil treat
being holed up in an office all day was not something joseph anthony francis quinn had figured would be in his books. but he found himself taking over the daycare he had devoted his life to, making it his lifes mission to revamp it from the inside out and make it better.
from his short time as owner, there were a gazzilion things he would like to change, including some staffing issues that were bothering him. out of the ten girls that worked there, y/n, destiny and claire were the three girls who were full time, meaning that they got the bulk of the hours. that had to change. there were two girls who dropped, saying they didn't have time to work much due to university, which left eight girls left to work. meaning if he split all the bulk of the hours with the three full timers… that left the part time girls jack shit. he felt horrible only giving some of the girls only ten hours a week, but there was only so much he could do without making more of them full time. he had been stuck in the office for about three hours now trying different versions of the schedule to figure out what would make the girls happy. bringing the full timers down from 45 to 32 opened up a chunk of hours he could divvy out between the other girls based on their availability, which could make it a bit easier. four of the eight girls had tight schedules due to uni, meaning he could potentially get a few more girls who were requesting more hours the hours they wanted.
but that was a headache for another day.
shutting his laptop, joe decided to step out into the playroom, where y/n was in charge of today. it was his idea to start having the girls rotate through the rooms, so that way all the kids could get acclimated to each staff member in case there needed to be any sort of coverage. so far, it seemed to be working well, especially because the twins started to open up to a few of the other girls rather than just sticking to y/n’s side all day. granted, days in the playroom were the harder days, because all riley and thomas wanted to do was play with her. it’s what started joe talking to them every day before coming in to remind them that yes, you can play with y/n but you need to let the other boys and girls play with her too. it went well for approximately five minutes before he realized they were wholeheartedly attached to her, and by god if he didn’t do something about it the twins would hate him forever.
he had to admit, she was cute. if it wasn’t for him being caught up in a messy divorce, he totally would have already asked you out on a date. but he had to hold himself off, knowing that julia would one hundred percent use that against him because that’s the kind of person she was. he didn’t know why they had even gotten together in the first place, not counting the fact that she wanted to appease her mother. set-up relationships never ended up working well, he found, and most of them reminded him of HR relationships- the ones you could always tell were fake. the ones that made people think love was real, only to shatter them to pieces when it came out that surprise, your faves weren’t actually together.
love was most definitely not that. and not what he had with julia.
before he could go down that wormhole again, his phone buzzed.
[ grace!! - 3:30pm ] joeee what are you doing tonight???? i miss youuuuuu
grace was one of his best friends from school. he and wesley had taken her under their wing the second she stepped into LAMDA, and the three of them had become inseparable. she had moved to london from america to pursue acting, considering it was one of the best acting schools in the world. joe definitely missed being on stage, but he had made the promise to himself that he would make more of an effort to provide for his kids, since acting could wait until they were a bit older.
[ 3:31pm ] do you miss me, or miss the kids? lol [ grace!! - 3:32pm ] obviously you, you’re my bestie! [ grace!! - 3:32pm ] but seriously what are you doing, rehearsal was canceled tonight [ 3:33pm ] not much, probably watching frozen with the kids and trying to avoid watching steve and maggie. you wanna pop over for tea? xx [ grace!! - 3:33pm ] is that even a question??? i’ll be there at five :)
looking over at the clock, joe figured he could pop out to the floor for about an hour before taking the twins home. saturdays were pretty light if he were being honest, so it probably wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he left a few hours earlier. most of the kids were gone by six anyway, so him leaving an hour early shouldn’t be horrid.
and then he could talk about his crush on y/n.
grace was there through the whole julia ordeal, meaning she knew all the ups and downs and the ahem “marriage” that julia’s mother basically shoved down joe’s throat, placing the ring in his hand and telling him to “get a goddamn move on”. yes, the loves of his life came out of it, but he hated julia and her dramatics and the need to make the divorce so much more than it needed to be. it was driving him up the walls, including the stupid custody agreement they were working on. he was doing his best to keep a level head, but it was getting to the point where he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. but grace was the level headedness he needed, always helping him figure everything out with wording and when to meet with lawyers and everything. she was definitely a light in his life, and he loved her to bits.
but his real loving nature was saved for y/n.
not that she’d ever get with him. he could always pretend that she was indeed flirting back with him. because while he really liked her, he was her boss. there were so many issues with that. but he also owned the daycare. and they didn’t have an HR person because it was a mom and pop shop. hell, he literally runs the facebook page. he could do whatever he wanted, right? … right?
“daddy!”
joe held his arms out as riley and thomas ran up to him, almost tackling him to the ground with their combined force.
“my angels! how has your day been?”
riley looked up at joe with her adorable little doe eyes. “daddy come play?”
“i gotta go talk to some of the lovely ladies a bit, but then we’re gonna go see grace!”
“grace comin?”
“yes, grace is coming for tea.”
out of the corner of his eye, joe noticed y/n turn away and start picking up in the playroom, trying to busy herself and not pay attention to the conversation. of course he would go and mention grace in front of her, after flirting with her so openly. just his fucking luck.
“grace bring wes?” thomas’ face lit up in excitement at the idea of two of his favorite people coming over.
“wes is at work, bub. he’ll come tomorrow, okay?”
“otay.”
“let me go say hi to the girls before we pop out, okay? go play with the toys.”
as joe rose from his crouching position, he noticed that y/n was stuck in the storage closet. stupidly, he decided to go around to all the other classrooms before coming back to the playroom to check on her before they popped out. the other girls were doing okay, which was good to hear. everything seemed to be going good since the rotation started, and it was showing. he stepped back into the playroom to gather riley and thomas, noticing that destiny was in, y/n being nowhere in sight. upsetting as that was for him, he did promise the kids that he would get them home to see grace. and besides, he really needed to talk to someone about his crush on y/n.
the ride home wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, and the twins were relatively quiet but bubbling with excitement as they got closer and closer to the flat. soon as they saw grace’s car in the driveway, they started giggling and screaming, and joe couldn’t help but chuckle. grace held out her arms as the kids ran into them, picking them both up with ease and swinging around in a circle. she smiled at joe as he grabbed the bags from the passenger seat and took them inside, setting stuff down in the front room and taking them all into the kitchen to get the tea ready.
“so, who is she?”
“what?”
“you only wear your nice shirt anywhere when there’s someone you want to impress.” grace raised an eyebrow. “so who are you trying to impress, joe?”
joe sighed. “we’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
“oh, i bet.”
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recurring-polynya · 1 year
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Writing/Art Update 4/18/2023
I said I was gonna do it and I did it: I finished chapter 4, which as predicted, ended up being chapters 4 and 5. (I really don't know how I thought it could be otherwise...even after the split, Chapter 4 ended up being the longest chapter in the whole thing, nearly twice as long as most of the other ones). Yesterday, I re-read Chapters 1-6. I had to kinda steel myself, because I was honestly terrified it was going to be Terrible, but it's Not Too Bad, Actually! I sent Chapters 2 and 3 off to the beta. I want to let 4 and 5 simmer a little longer before I do a little more minor editing on them, but it shouldn't be much. I definitely thought Ch 6 was going to Tonally Off, but it's actually ok, too.
It's really hard to emphasize the mess this thing was as recently as two weeks ago. I honestly cannot believe I have pulled it into the shape that it's in. I mean, I'm not gonna claim this is my magnum opus or anything, but it's sort of a very personal accomplishment. Part of that is because it's easy to write nice romance stories where they kiss at the end, or straightforward angst, but writing a prequel about a weird time in someone's life where they go through a really uncomfortable transition is not easy and it's sort of fundamentally unsatisfying. Of course it is, because it's a building block of a relationship that's going to take another 40 years before it starts looing up again. I don't particularly know if it's something people want to read, but it's what I wanted to write and I did.
Anyway, I am feeling very high on my horse today, but I do still have one chapter left to go. It's got three scenes. I have not looked at them lately, but two of them are Mostly Okay, but need endings. The third one really was Tonally Wrong and also I pillaged it for dialogue in another scene, so that will take some work, but overall, it's a lot less than I had to do last week and feels very doable.
After that, it'll still need some minor edits and polish (plus there's always the chance my beta is going to be like Polynya, this is gibberish, not that she ever has, but it'll happen one of these days) but maybe you'll get to see it soon! Believe it!!
I have been really off my art game and it's primarily because this fanfic has been eating my brain. I might do a little sketch requests thingie? For a treat? After I'm done, obvs. I am also going to work on that smut I started weeks ago. I didn't lose interest in it or anything, I just got really wrapped up in this one.
Anyway, because I love you and you have all been very, very patient with me, you can have a lil baby excerpt this week.
from Chapter 3
Rukia isn’t sure what she expected to see when she enters the dojo, but it certainly isn’t Renji sitting on the floor, poring over a large book. “Where’s Mr. Mochida?” she asks.
“Not up yet, probably. I don’t know,” Renji says, flipping a few pages.
Rukia narrows her eyes at him. “I thought you said it was time for training.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“But Mr. Mochida is in charge of training.”
“Well, yeah, but I found this book yesterday, you see, and I really want to try some of the stuff in it.”
“So when you said ‘training’, what you meant was ‘Renji bullshit.’”
“Sure, okay, but you wouldn’t get out of bed if I told you it was Renji bullshit.”
Rukia levels a death glare at him, but it is deflected by the protective layer of Renji bullshit hovering around him. She tries a different tack. “Renji, look at my yukata. Look at it, Renji. It’s got bunnies on it. Little itty bitty bunnies.”
Renji looks up, stares at her for exactly ten seconds, and then jabs a finger at his book. “Body weight exercises, Rukia! They require no equipment, so you can do them anywhere! This book has them all broken out by which muscle groups they make stronger!”
Rukia gives up, and hunkers down beside him. “Oh! It has pictures.” “They aren’t pictures, they’re diagrams,” Renji informs her pompously. “I want to do this one. It’s called push-ups. It will make our arms really strong!”
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didn't you start around the time of Shawmila round one ,or am I mistaken here ?
and you did like and support Shawn (and Camila) back then ,at that time.
so ,I'm wondering ,as why you clearly seem to have a problem with Shawmila round two ,atm ?
also wanted to give my feedback on your latest story ,I think that didn't do as well as you're used to ,is coz it doesn't have the same flow to it ,your reglar readers are used to seeing coming from you (btw: I read a story -actually think it's part of a book ,if I remember correctly- with a very similar style and theme to it ,prior on wattpad ,being completely honest ,it reminds me more of that ,than of your previous works) .
that's my opinion ,anyways ...
closing off with a question ,are you planning on doing smth Shawmila (I mean ,that book of yours ,that was already on hiatus ,and now with Shawmila ,appearing as if the breakup was all just a dream ,and time stood still ,or smth ,you're definitely not going to continue with an oc ,or am I thinking (perfectly) wrong (on this topic ,as well) ) ?
(ps :didn't expect your comeback so soon ,the way you were sounding so negatively ...)
I’ve been a fan of Shawn’s for just over four years, but I didn’t start my Shawn tumblr till early April 2021. (Happy belated two-year tumblrversary to me?)
No, I’ve never been a fan of Camila’s, nor have I ever liked them together. I don’t believe you’ll find anything about her in my archives. I tried never to disrespect her (publicly) because of my respect for Shawn, that’s all. So, having never liked them together, and seeing the state he was in for so long following their split, and how he seemed to be doing SO well without her recently, his choice to begin again with her is disheartening. I love him and only want the best for him, and in my personal opinion, she’s not it. I don’t want to see him hurt again.
Thank you for your honest opinion on my last story, and I agree with you about the flow. It’s definitely not one of my better stories and I have moments where I wish I hadn’t posted it. (I even apologized to my friend, who was the requester, that it wasn’t better, but bless her heart, she still said she loved it.) Idk if you follow me, and if you do, for how long you have been, but in previous posts of mine, and for awhile now, I’ve spoken about my struggles with my writing. I haven’t opened any of my documents/started requests/WIPs since then. I’m not currently in the right headspace. I don’t feel like I can give my best right now, and I don’t want to post anything (else) subpar.
I’m not a regular reader on Wattpad, - I can probably count on maybe two hands how many stories I’ve read over there, - so any similarities to any story over there was completely unintentional. I won’t hesitate to remove FF if ever necessary. The only person I’ve ever intentionally plagiarized is myself (taking pieces of earlier, incomplete stories and fitting them better into new ones).
I’d still like to complete my OC story, with my OC character. I really don’t want “Some Girl” to be just another abandoned story. I’m just not sure how long that’s going to take. And no, Camila won’t be returning in any capacity. Why would I write him back with Camila in any way when Charlotte is perfect for him?
I haven’t fully returned to tumblr (or any social media), - three reblogs/posts and a few asks after ten days is hardly a “comeback”. I just don’t want people to think I’ve given up on Shawn, because I haven’t. 💕
Thank you for the ask, anon. 🫶🏻
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mint-yooxgi · 9 months
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{13} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader
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Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour
Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Yeosang, Yunho, San, and Mingi)
Words: 10,500
Warnings: Mentions of past trauma and bullying: past suicidal thoughts mentioned, and mention of a lack of self worth, OC runs into an old 'friend' near the beginning, I think that's it honestly. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: So, I decided to split this part into two since I feel it makes the story flow better. I'm happy where I ended it, and I really hope you all look forward to the next few parts! There's quite a lot of story coming your way hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~
Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.
Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve
There’s a fond look in your eyes as you stand by yourself in front of the large window overlooking the newborns sleeping soundly before you. The hospital is quiet, given how early in the morning it is, a few staff walking behind you every now and then. Still, you cannot help but watch over little Elijah, even now, ensuring that nothing happens to him while his mother rests with his father in her hospital room.
Born a little over eight hours ago, well into the night, he sleeps soundly. A week late, weighing in at a healthy eight pounds, eleven ounces, they keep him wrapped up while Crystal recovers from giving birth the night before.
When you had gotten the call yesterday, you immediately rushed to the hospital with Seonghwa and the others. You met your parents here, waiting as long as you could before being sent home. Having wanted as natural a birth as possible, Crystal had been in for a long night. 
Much to your content, you discovered Elijah had been born in the early hours of the morning, and had already been checked over for any ailments that might affect him after birth. He had none, and is perfectly healthy according to all of the doctors. A fact which makes you, and all of your family, happy beyond belief.
Currently, Vasco is with Crystal, staying with her after recovery while Elijah sleeps. San has went to grab you both coffees with Mingi, who you asked to stop by and check up on Crystal for you on the way to the café. You want to make sure that she’s fairing well while you check up on your baby nephew for the first time. 
The other guys stayed home, per your request. Of course, a few of them had protested at that - Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong - considering you all don’t know what Malik or Dimitri’s next moves are. However, at your assurance, they backed off. Besides, you have both Mingi and San here with you, and you highly doubt you would be attacked in a hospital.
Still, you’re on high alert. Just in case.
Looking over little Elijah once more as he sleeps, you notice a figure come to stand beside you out of the corner of your eyes. He’s tall, but not as tall as Yunho, with dirty blond hair. He looks familiar, but you don’t pay him much mind. You just wish he’d stop glancing at you every few seconds.
The soft call of your name startles you, and you finally turn to get a good look at the man standing beside you. His blue eyes are hauntingly familiar.
“Hi, Jake.” You give him a small, albeit tight smile.
“I thought it was you, but I wasn’t sure.” He smiles lightly back. “I haven’t seen you since elementary school. How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been well.” You reply softly. “Yourself?”
“Never better,” his eyes crinkle slightly as he turns back to observe the sleeping infants before you. “Is one of them yours?”
He holds a paper coffee cup in his hand, using it to motion before him along the line of babies.
“Oh. No.” You shake your head. “Just a proud aunt watching over her nephew.”
The corner of your lips twitches upwards as you motion to Elijah sleeping soundly before you.
A moment of silence as you cradle your elbows in your hands, almost to the point of curling in on yourself. You clear your throat. “You?”
A brilliant smile lights up his features, his eyes crinkling at the sides as his chest puffs out slightly in pride. He nods in the direction of two girls sleeping side by side. “My wife just had a twins.”
“Oh.” You meet his gaze briefly, offering him a small smile. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” He grins widely, ruffling his hair which already seems quite disheveled. “It would have been your sister, right?”
You blink, pulled out of your own thoughts for the moment. “I’m sorry?”
“Your sister who had the baby,” he motions lightly to Elijah with his cup again. “If I remember correctly.”
“Oh, uh, yeah.” You clear your throat once more. “It was her.”
“Tell her congratulations for me.” He nods.
You swallow the dryness in your throat, shifting from foot to foot. “I will. Thank you.”
You don’t think you’ve ever had an encounter where you’ve felt more awkward in your life. Sure, you could brush up against Mingi’s, or even San’s mental links right now, but it’s not like you’re in danger. You’re just more uncomfortable than anything at the moment, given everything he did to you when you were younger.
“Actually, it must be pure luck that we ran into each other today.” This time, Jake clears his throat, somewhat nervously.
You hum in response, shifting the slightest bit further from him without arousing suspicion.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the past lately, and it just reminded me that I never apologized to you.”
His statement catches you so off guard, that your hands end up falling to your sides.
“I was a huge asshole to you when we were younger, and I don’t know how much this will mean to you now, but I’m sorry. I wasn’t happy when I was a kid, and I felt you were an easy target to take that out on. I was always jealous of you, and I let that and my anger control my actions. That was not right.” He says, no longer looking towards you, but down at his hands with that coffee cup held in them for dear life. “I regret getting my friends involved to torment you, too. The feeling of them listening to me gave me a sense of power I felt I lacked in my life, and you were the unfortunate victim.”
You swear you’ve stopped breathing, whole body feeling numb as you refuse to so much as look in his direction. Jake was one of the ones who tormented you so much when you were younger, and gave you all of those self doubts, as well as an incredible amount of self hatred. One of the ones who made you believe you were worthless, ugly, and unlovable.
The worst part: he started out as one of your closest friends, too. A close friend who you had cherished above all else, just as you do with all the people you care about.
A worried call of your name greets your ears, and you turn to see San standing to your opposite side, a cup of coffee held in each of his hands. Mingi is nowhere in sight.
There is no hiding the narrowed eyed look San sends Jake’s way as the former comes to stand beside you. He places the cup of coffee in your hand gently before immediately wrapping his now free arm around your waist. Almost instantly, he pulls you into his side.
“You don’t have to forgive me.” Jake continues, and you feel San’s grip around your waist tighten. “It’s been years, and I would understand if you never did. What I did was vile, and inexcusable. Just know, that I am sorry, and I regret it all.” He swallows thickly. “I just thought you should know.”
With a firm nod in acknowledgement towards San, and without another word spoken, Jake takes his leave.
Your eyes follow after him down the hall, watching as he retreats around a corner and out of sight. You don’t even notice Mingi has come to join you until you hear his voice speaking to you.
“Who was that?” There’s a hint of a growl to his words, him taking note of the distressed state you seem to be in at the moment.
You inhale sharply, as if suddenly coming back to the reality before you.
“Starlight?” Immediately, worry takes over Mingi’s features as he looks at you.
Beside you, you can feel San physically trembling.
“Baby,” his voice is low in attempts to control his building anger, “What did he do to you?”
You shake your head, blinking a few times blankly. “Nothing.”
“Then, why was he apologizing to you?” Mingi’s brow furrows, stepping in front of you in order to gently grasp your hands still holding onto that cup in his own.
“That was Jake.” You blink, head still reeling at this turn of events. “He- he-“ You take a deep breath in to steady your nerves. “He was my friend. Once.”
The two males share a look.
“You don’t look like you’ve just been chatting up an old friend.” San glares off in the direction Jake had walked off in, as if he can still see the male behind the walls of the hospital.
“He was my friend,” you repeat, pursing your lips for only a moment, “before he started bullying me.”
You swear that were you not in a public place, both males would have let growls escape them.
“He made me feel worthless, and pathetic.” Your gaze is somewhat blank, as if recalling memories from your childhood that you have long since kept hidden. “I can’t count the amount of times he told me I was ugly.” You swallow. “And fat. And stupid. And that I would never amount to anything. That no one would ever care for me, so I should just runaway and die.”
You swear you see San’s eyes flash in the reflection of the glass beside Mingi’s head.
“He got his friends involved, and it was like a game to them who could berate me the most.” You don’t know how you’re still standing, or how you’ve managed to quell your building emotions for the time being, but you do. “He told me to kill myself more times than I can remember.”
You look down at that cup of coffee in your hands, finally taking note of Mingi still gently holding onto you. The way they both have trouble breathing, chests heaving with each breath, you just know that they’re both barely containing their anger for the moment.
“I told you once before how people would pretend to like me as a joke,” you exhale shakily, and you hear the faintest of growls come from the man still holding you to his side. “I wish I could say I saw through it every time, but sometimes having a crush can blind you.”
San nearly drops the cup of coffee in his hand. “You liked him?”
“I mentioned we started off as friends, no?” Your lips twitch upwards sadly. “I think that’s what made what he did worse. I let so many things slide because I just wanted his attention. It’s something I’ve always done. With him though, any attention was good attention to me. It didn’t take long for it to change. His younger brother always was rude to me from the start, but then he started in on the ‘fun’, too.”
This time, there’s no mistaking when Mingi’s eyes flash black right before you.
Quickly, you scan the hallway to ensure it’s still empty. 
It is.
“He never apologized, or even acknowledged what he did to me before. He always denied it when confronted about it, too.” Your grip tightens slightly around that cup in your hands. “Until now.”
Raising a shaky hand to your cheek, Mingi cups your face tenderly in his palm. Gently, his thumb strokes over your skin, and you can feel the barely contained rage in his touch despite how delicately he holds onto you.
“We should tear him apart for what he did to you.” Mingi keeps his voice surprisingly low and steady. His Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “He doesn’t deserve to live.”
A low growl of agreement sounds from San.
Almost instantly, you’re shaking your head. “No.”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” San asks, pulling away from you in shock as he begins pacing in front of both you and Mingi in that little space between where you stand and the wall.
“He’s not worth it.” You reach out, and instantly San has his free hand in yours. “I never expected to run into him after all these years, least of all for him to apologize as soon as I did.”
“Are you-“ Mingi takes the time to study your features closely, gently guiding your gaze back to his. “Are you okay?”
“Shocked.” You blink a few times in response. “Attempting to process things for the moment, but I think I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?” San steps in closer, nothing but worry etched into his brow.
“Yeah.” You meet his gaze. “I don’t know, it’s almost… freeing in a sense.” You swallow. “It’s almost like getting a sense of closure I never knew I needed.”
Instantly, the two males seem to relax the slightest bit from your words.
“He seemed genuine when he spoke to you.” San adds softly, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Besides, I’m sure our dear Sannie here would have torn him apart in an instant if he sensed any malicious or deceitful thoughts towards you.” Mingi finally drops his hands, turning to glance off in the direction Jake went off in. “I know I would have.”
“You’re damn right I would have.” San hums in agreement.
A soft laugh escapes you. “That I do know.”
They offer you small smiles in response, an affectionate gleam to their eyes. 
“His wife just had twins.” You motion to the two baby girls wrapped up in blankets near Elijah with your chin.
They spare a brief look in their direction before shifting their focus onto Elijah. Almost instantaneously, Elijah stretches in his sleep, a tiny yawn escaping him as he shifts his position.
You coo lovingly down at your little nephew.
“He’s perfectly healthy, as far as we, and all of the doctors can tell.” San is beside you once more, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.
“And Crystal?” You spare a glance at Mingi.
“A little tired, but recovering just fine.” He smiles at you in response. “I checked her over like you asked.”
“Good.” A soft smile pulls at your lips. “I’m glad.”
Slowly, the three of you begin making your way back down the hallway and towards the room Crystal is in. You plan to spend some time with her before heading back for the day, and getting some more training done with Yunho and Yeosang. 
You’re almost at a point where you can start learning the basics of a few weapons, and you’re getting quite excited. Wooyoung is more than ready to start teaching you about different poisons, and he’s often hinted at certain plants which have high toxicity levels. For now, he’s still letting you have some space, not wanting to give you any ‘ideas’ for the next time he gets overtly clingy. 
Not that you would poison him. 
Similarly, Yunho has been helping you hone your mind, strengthening it before the inevitable happens once you become like them.
Once you become like them.
There’s a thought that has been crossing your mind more often than not lately. You know that they mentioned that it would consist of the merging of souls in a way - you give them a piece of your soul while they give you a piece of theirs in exchange - but you’re still not entirely sure what that entails. You’ve been meaning to ask, only, you haven’t found the proper time to do so.
Perhaps you���ll bring it up again, soon.
For now, you’ll focus on joking around and making your sister smile as you sit beside her hospital bed. Vasco managed to pass out in the one chair in the time it took for Mingi to come find both you and San, but you don’t hold it against him. The man has been up all night with his wife.
After about an hour, you notice Crystal starting to drift off to sleep, too, so you bid her a fond farewell for now. With a big hug and a kiss from you, you tell her to get as much rest as she can, and that you’ll be around to visit again soon.
The whole car ride back home is quiet. Both Mingi and San attempt to engage you in conversation, only for you to reply with small, one word answers. That is, if you don’t just hum in response. Your mind is clearly elsewhere, and worry furrows their brows as they watch you almost subconsciously drive home.
You seem distracted, and it’s enough to have the others observing you carefully as you walk through the house. The quiet is unusual for you after visiting your sister, and though you don’t appear angry, or upset, it’s quite unsettling.
Of course, it takes no time for both Mingi and San to be sharing what happened with the others. 
Why am I suddenly getting flashbacks to that worm we disposed of all those months ago? Wooyoung nearly growls out in all of their heads.
Believe me, Hongjoong sighs. You’re not the only one.
So, why aren’t we doing that to this one right now? Perhaps even something worse?Jongho quirks a brow while staring down at the pages of his book.
She told us not to. Mingi replies. Said he wasn’t worth it.
But he hurt her. This time, it’s Seonghwa who responds. None of his brothers need to see him to know that he wears a frown on his features currently. 
An expression mirrored by more than just one male.
She said it happened a long time ago. San adds. We don’t know the full details, just what she’s told us.
And that should have been enough to at least torment the fellow. Yunho says, as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world.
I don’t know, guys. Mingi sighs. She told us that she felt as if it was almost freeing in a sense for him to apologize after all these years. You know I’m all for eviscerating anyone that harms her, but if she says not to, I think we should listen to her.
We’re lucky she hasn’t found out about Calum, yet. Yeosang chimes in, an almost knowing hum to his words.
And she never will. Hongjoong confirms. Just like she doesn’t have to know about this ‘Jake’ guy.
His wife just had twins, Hongjoong. San states, rather firmly. Besides, do you really want to disobey Our Queen’s wishes like that so easily?
A moment of silence settles over all of them as San’s words sink in.
San’s right. Seonghwa finally breaks the building tension. We don’t purposely orphan children, or widow spouses. Nor should we go against her wishes.
Boo! You guys are no fun. They can all practically hear the pout in Wooyoung’s voice as he says this.
I suppose the circumstances were a lot different last time. Jongho sighs.
We could still torment him mentally. Yunho suggests casually.
Oh, I’m all for this! Wooyoung exclaims excitedly. I could mildly poison him. Make it a hindrance to his daily life for a week or so.
All fun ideas, Yeosang hums. But I think you’re all forgetting one important detail.
At his brother’s inquisitive silence, Yeosang is quick to continue. 
She said, ‘no’.
“Is everything okay?” The sound of your voice, somewhat worried and soft, draws both Yunho and Yeosang out of their mental conversation with their brothers for the moment.
“Of course, Petal.” Yunho smiles at you. “We’re just worried about you, is all.”
“Me?” You quirk a brow in surprise.
“You seem distracted.” Yeosang tilts his head to the side slightly, almost curiously.
“You two have been standing to the side frowning like you can’t decide between cheddar or parmesan cheese for the past ten minutes.” You huff out a laugh. “If anyone’s distracted, it’s you.”
“We’re waiting for you to finish stretching.” Yeosang answers, attempting some form of causality.
“I finished stretching and doing some warm up exercises ten minutes ago.” You deadpan.
“Oh.” 
That seems to shut them up for a good thirty seconds.
“So then, what would you like to work on today, Petal?” Yunho is quick to change the subject.
Immediately, you begin vibrating in excitement, grinning widely as your eyes shine.
“Let’s finalize your hand-to-hand combat training first before we pull out the knives.” Yunho chuckles.
A dramatic pout pulls onto your features and Yeosang elbows Yunho quite pointedly in the ribs.
“Don’t worry, My Dear, we’ll let you try some weapons later today.” Yeosang assures you.
Almost instantly, your mood perks up, and both of them are smiling fondly at you.
“I take it I won’t actually get any pointy objects to start.” You quirk a brow playfully.
The two males share a look before Yunho is shrugging. “If that’s what you want.”
“We may be overprotective, Dearest, but we’re not unreasonable.” Yeosang replies. “If any incidents occur, we can just heal you.”
“Or us.” Yunho adds at seeing your expression of disbelief.
A subtle nod of your head in amusement is all he gets in response.
“You’ve been working on building your strength with Mingi and San, correct?” Yunho is quick to ask, walking over to the sparring mats to your left.
A nod is all the confirmation he gets.
“Alright then, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles, moving over beside his brother before meeting your gaze. “Show us what you’ve got.”
“Are you suggesting I take the both of you at the same time?” You quirk a brow teasingly as you step onto the mats.
The low growls you receive in response are all the confirmation you get that they’ve taken the comment in a different way than what you originally insinuated.
“Keep thinking like that, I’ll easily distract the both of you.” You chuckle, a sultry pull to the corner of your lips.
“We can’t help it, Dearest,” Yeosang sighs, almost wistfully. “You have a habit of dropping the most interesting thoughts into our minds at the best of times.”
“Not the worst?” Your brows flick upwards suggestively.
“Sometimes.” Yunho chuckles, and at the way your mouth falls open in mock offence, he’s quick to add, “I never said it was a bad thing, Petal.”
“It’s just a little more difficult to…” Yeosang searches for the right word, “concentrate on the battlefield with certain additions to our physique.”
“Yes, I can quite imagine how painful it is to fight when you’re hard.” You grin, huffing out a small laugh.
“It’s certainly not the most comfortable thing.” Yeosang nods in agreement.
“You speak as if you have experience with this sort of thing,” Your eyebrows raise, amusement shining behind your eyes.
When both of them shrug, you cannot help the boisterous laugh that escapes you.
“I’d say Captain has the most, though.” Yunho adds, seemingly nonchalantly. “He can get intense on the battlefield. In more than one way.”
“Oh?” This piques your interest. “Then, I look forward to it.”
The way they both blink at you in mild shock has you giggling.
“What? Surprised it doesn’t phase me that much anymore?” You tilt your head curiously.
“A little bit,” Yunho blinks, loosening his stance in preparation to fight you.
“A girl has her fantasies.” This time, it’s your turn to shrug.
Two low growls greet your ears, the faintest tint of black darkening their eyes.
“Care to share, Dearest?” Yeosang begins stalking towards you slowly, like a predator would its prey.
You immediately begin countering his every move, watching Yunho carefully out of the corner of your eyes. “Perhaps I’ll just show you.”
His breath hitches, and you strike.
For the next forty minutes, the three of you spar together on the mats. A few times, you manage to pin one of them, only for the other to knock you right off your balance. You’ve only ever sparred with one partner before, besides last week when Jongho and Mingi decided to challenge you further. So, taking on multiple of them at a time requires even more quick maneuvers and thinking on your part, but you’re starting to recognize a pattern to their attacks.
You’re not sure if they’re doing it on purpose, or if they’re aware of it or not, but Yunho seems to be the one to observe the scene before moving, and only when it looks like Yeosang has created an opening for him to get through. That, or when you’ve managed to subdue Yeosang for the moment.
Yeosang, on the other hand, enjoys staying low to the ground, crouching as he goes in for the attack to throw off your balance. He’s nimble, and much more flexible than you thought he could be. A fact which intrigues you as much as impresses you.
Both never fail to praise you any opportunity they get.
During the second round, Yeosang accidentally manages to tear your shirt. The scraps of fabric hang limply off of your shoulders, exposing your torso and the sports bra you wear.
Luckily, for you, it seems to distract them for a moment. Out of shock or something else, you don’t quite know. Either way, you know an opportunity when you see one.
Using this to your advantage, you manage to land a solid roundhouse kick to the side of Yunho’s head, quickly subduing Yeosang in the next moment.
Your chest heaves as you pin Yeosang beneath you, a victorious grin pulling at your lips.
Just as you go to say something, a low groan from the male laying on his back to your left draws your attention.
“Oh shit, Universe!” You hop right off of Yeosang to inspect the damage you’ve done to Yunho’s cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he replies, somewhat in a daze. His hand comes up to cup his cheek, almost affectionately. “Never better.”
“I just kicked you in the face, and you’re acting like a schoolboy who’s just received a cheek kiss from his crush for the first time.” You chuckle, noticing how Yeosang now kneels beside you with an almost pout on his lips. You quirk a brow, “What, you want me to kick you, too?”
Yeosang shoots you an innocent side eyed look, hope shining behind his orbs.
“I can’t wait to tell Mingi,” Yunho chuckles, pushing himself into a sitting position.
“I think Wooyoung might be more jealous.” Yeosang comments casually.
“You guys want me to harm you when we spar?” The appal is clear on your features.
“We don’t get hurt that easily, Dearest, but when it’s you that manages to surprise us, it’s incredible.” Yeosang tells you honestly. “Not to mention how much pride that fills us when you hit us in this context.”
“Not to mention incredibly sexy.” Yunho breathes, still stuck in that daze as the tips of his fingers gently rub over his cheek.
A brief conversation with Hongjoong about that scar that still sits proudly on his chest flashes through your mind.
“It’s impressive.” Yeosang concludes with a firm nod.
“Oh.” You giggle, a heat rising to your cheeks at their praise. “I still worry, though.”
“We know.” Yunho smiles at you, noticing how you gently pull his hand away to place a tender kiss upon his cheek. His ears flare bright red. “The feeling is, and will always be, mutual, Petal.”
You simply smile in response, helping Yunho back to his feet. Still, you cannot hide the concern in your eyes.
“Don’t worry, Petal.” Yunho chuckles, wrapping his one arm around you briefly in order to place a gentle kiss onto your temple. “Believe me when I say we’ve all suffered much worse injuries at each other’s hands before.”
You blink at him in shock.
“Remember how we told that you we don’t hold back on each other when sparring?” Yeosang chimes in.
Realization floods your features, nodding along to his words slowly.
“The bets were the worst.” Yunho hums, clearly reminiscing some past memories. “We would never kill each other, but we’ve gotten close to it a few times.”
Your brow furrows immensely in worry.
“Heat of the moment, Dearest.” Yeosang is quick to explain at the way your lips seem to part with a response. “It’s why we always had at least one of us to moderate the fights when we made bets on each other.”
“I still want to watch you guys fight one another at some point.” You comment, moving off to the side to take a drink of water.
“We haven’t forgotten, Petal.” Yunho grins. “We’re just saving it for now.”
You pout, somewhat dramatically.
“All in due time, Dearest.” Yeosang chuckles. “All in due time.”
You sigh, “I suppose it might be better for when I know how to at least use some weapons. I can study how you guys all use them, then.”
“Exactly.” Yunho nods, before catching himself. “Wait, what?”
“I thought I mentioned that I’m somewhat of a visual learner?” You tilt your head slightly in inquiry at him.
A flash of your hands weaving together those flowers in that clearing all those months ago flits through his mind.
“I remember now.” He hums, a loving smile gracing his lips.
A smile which you return.
Yeosang clears his throat, looking pointedly at Yunho. “How’s your head?”
Yunho spares a brief look towards you, a smirk pulling subtly onto his features. He licks his lips. “No complaints.”
The second that you spit out the water you’re drinking, Yeosang has jumped onto Yunho’s back, locking his arms around the elder male’s throat and choking him out. You begin coughing simultaneously as laughter attempts to escape you, Yunho thrashing around with Yeosang clinging like a koala to his back.
Finally, you manage to get your coughing under control as laughter takes over in full swing. Your eyes crinkle as you see the two of them continuing to play fight, Yunho soon tossing Yeosang over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and slamming the shorter male onto the mat below him.
The fact that they can hear how joyous you are in this moment makes each of their hearts swell. A sound neither will ever grow tired of. Knowing that they are the cause only serves to make them happy, pride swelling in their chests despite the circumstances that lead to this encounter. Well, at least for one of them.
You watch on with a fond look in your eyes as you lean against the side wall. That is, until a distant look crosses your features, and you seem to zone out for a minute or two.
“Is everything okay, Dearest?” It’s Yeosang’s voice that manages to pull you out of your thoughts.
You focus back in on your surroundings, noticing the worried tug of both his and Yunho’s brows, the two of them standing before you.
“Yeah,” you send them both a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”
“Now, who’s the distracted one?” Yunho jokes, moving beside you in order to nudge your arm slightly with his elbow.
Yeosang sends him a pointed look before turning back to you. “Are you sure you’re okay, Dearest? San and Mingi told us what happened earlier at the hospital.“
You take a moment to think, brow furrowing slightly as you look down at the ground.
“I just-“ you sigh. “I had so much pent up anger and sadness when I was younger for what he did to me. I never understood why he did it, and now that this has happened, I don’t quite know how to feel.”
“How do you feel, Petal?” Yunho steps in closer, placing a comforting hand onto your shoulder.
“Relieved, in a way.” You reply honestly. “Confused. Maybe a little angry, and a slight bit resentful still. It happened so long ago, that I didn’t think too much of the situation anymore. At least, I tried not to, but seeing him today just brought everything back. I’m still attempting to figure out if I’m actually passed everything with him or not, or if I just wanted to scrub it from my memory. I don’t think I can forgive him, though. Not after what he did to me.”
A brief pause.
“You know, I contemplating running away from home because of him. Just disappearing off the map, and dying in a ditch, because I believed him when he said no one would care.” You swallow thickly. “I was only ten.”
The way you see Yeosang’s eyes flash before you out of the corner of your vision says it all. You don’t even need to look at Yunho to know he does the same.
“Yet, hearing him apologize for things today…” you trail off, finally lifting your gaze to glance at both males standing around you. “Well, it’s like I told San and Mingi earlier today. It did feel freeing. It felt like finally getting an acknowledgment of everything bad he did to me, and him owning up to it. It’s- it’s-” you blink, your lips parting as they twitch upwards, “gratifying.”
Gently, Yeosang takes your hands in his own, yet you still manage to feel the subtle way he cannot control them from shaking.
“Is there-“ he swallows thickly, keeping his voice low as he clears his throat, “Is there anything we can do?”
You take a moment to stare deeply into his eyes, thinking of your answer carefully.
You blink lightly once more.
“No.” You shake your head. “No. I don’t think there is.”
“Petal-“
“The past can’t be changed now, nor do I want it to be.” You cut Yunho’s worried tone off. “I’m not the same person I was back then, but it’s made me who I am today. Yes, he hurt me.” You take a breath. “Am I going to let those old memories control my life? No. Besides, I’ve got more important things to think about now.”
“As long as you’re okay, Petal,” Yunho squeezes your shoulder gently. “That’s all we care about.”
“I’m okay, Yun.” You offer him a small smile before squeezing Yeosang’s hands back. “I’ll be okay.”
A comfortable silence settles over the three of you as you all hold onto each other so tenderly. You know both males will do whatever they can to comfort you, should you ask them to, but right now, you also have other things on your mind. Mainly, moving passed this and getting on with your new life.
“So…” You spare a glance at each male surrounding you. “Weapons?”
Yeosang quirks a brow, “What would you like to start with?”
“You’re letting me choose?” Your eyes widen, and you cannot help the way you begin to bounce on your feet. 
At their nods, a large grin pulls at your lips.
“Is there something you have in mind?” Yunho asks, an eager tone to his inquiry.
Multiple weapons flash through your mind at once, and you bring a hand up to your chest in hopes to quell your racing heart. That’s when you remember the state of your shirt, or rather, your now non-existent shirt.
Humming in thought to yourself, you pull the last few scraps of material off of your body. Gently, you tuck the fabric beside your water bottle, leaving you in just your sports bra for the time being. Not that any of you really mind.
That’s when you get an idea.
“Well, it’d be best to start with something at least somewhat familiar, no?” You look between the two males before you.
“That would probably be best.” Yeosang nods in confirmation.
“Well, since I haven’t seen any of you use any of your weapons yet, I’ll stick with something I’ve used before.” You reply, a knowing grin tugging onto your features. “Could one of you please get me a bat?”
You can see the surprise on both of their features the instant you say this. Regardless, Yeosang makes a wooden baseball bat appear in his hand, presenting it to you almost immediately.
“A bat, Petal?” Yunho’s brow quirks.
“Listen, I don’t want to be playing around with something I don’t understand yet. No matter how badly I want to throw an axe, or stab something with a sword, it’s not worth the risk for my first try.” You reply, grabbing the wooden object from Yeosang’s outstretched hand. “This,” you shake the bat lightly, “at least I’m somewhat familiar with. The worst it can really do is break a few bones at the present.”
“Is that why you were going to use it to bash San’s kneecaps in with?” Yeosang’s eyes shine with nothing but amusement.
“I had a lot of pent up rage as a teenager.” You shrug, stepping back onto the sparring mat while letting the bat spin loosely in your hand. A blink, and you’ve allowed it to fall in a circle, the tip nearly touching the ground before you’re holding it upright in the air. “Reina and I spent a lot of time in rec rooms, smashing shit. Especially when the whole thing happened with her ex first year of university.”
“You’ve mentioned.” Yunho nods, recalling that conversation briefly in his mind.
“There’s a reason he takes my threats seriously.” You grin, stepping up before a fighting dummy.
You eye the test dummy, flipping the bat almost absentmindedly in your one hand.
“Should we be worried?” Yeosang chuckles, a pleasant shiver caressing his spine as he watches you handle that bat for the moment.
“It’s been a while, so potentially.” You shrug, solidifying your hold on the base. “The first few times I ever swung seriously, I kept accidentally letting the bat go. It would go flying across the room and into the wall.”
“We’ll stand behind you, then.” Yunho grins, an eager gleam in his eyes as he sees you beginning to weigh the bat in each of your hands.
Continuously, you do more spins with the bat, tossing it from hand to hand to get a better feel of the wood beneath your grip.
“I wonder how much worse my swing has gotten.” You say, almost absentmindedly to yourself. “It’s been a while. My aim’s also never been particularly good.”
“Oh, come on, Baby,” San’s voice suddenly coming from behind you has you jumping before you’re spinning around to face him. “You can’t be that bad if you’re confident enough to threaten me with it.”
Your eyebrow quirks, noticing all eight of them now standing behind you.
“You think we’re going to pass up the opportunity of seeing you hit something with a weapon for the first time?” Wooyoung grins, almost maniacally. “Not likely, Angel.”
“Didn’t realize I’d have an audience.” You mutter, tightening your grip on the base of that bat in your hand once more.
“We’re only here to encourage you, Starlight.” Mingi smiles, a proud nod to his head.
“Yunho also wouldn’t stop bragging about getting kicked in the face by you.” San adds, somewhat bitterly. “We’re also here to kick his ass afterwards."
You shoot a pointed look at Yunho.
“What?” He raises his hands in his own defence. “I told you already, Petal. It makes us proud knowing what you’re capable of.”
“He’s just hoping you’ll do it again.” Hongjoong hums, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Says the one begging to be stabbed all the time,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes.
“Just say you’re jealous and be done with it.” Jongho snorts, leaning against one of the racks with weights on them.
“Okay,” you huff out a small laugh, turning back around to face the fighting dummy.
Lowly, you can hear them continuing to bicker behind you, and the fact that you can hardly feel their attention lingering on you causes you to relax. Inhaling deeply, you fill your lungs with as much air as you can before slowly exhaling. Shuffling from foot to foot, you gently tap the tip of the bat against the side of your foot in preparation for what you’re about to do.
Raising the wooden object, you let it spin once more in your hand before you’re gripping it tightly in your hold. Lining up your shot, a crazed look takes over your features as you swing the bat to strike at the head of the dummy, letting your adrenaline drive you. The resulting crack fills the room on impact, and the dummy goes tumbling to the floor with little resistance.
Silence surrounds you, and all you can register is a loud ringing in your ears as your chest heaves with each breath. Your body stands over that fighting dummy, now laying face down on the floor, the bat resting at your side with the tip balanced upon the floor.
That felt good. Probably better than it should have for the moment.
You turn to face them, a gleeful giggle falling from your lips, “How was that?”
However, you do not expect the scene that greets you as soon as you turn around.
San has fallen to his knees, his chest heaving as his mouth rests open in shock. Wooyoung is right beside him, both his and San’s chests heaving as the younger supports himself using his one arm on the ground. Seonghwa has a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder, steadying himself while the elder can only stand there, stunned, with his eyes as black as night. To his left, Jongho stands, barely holding himself upright against that rack of weights for the moment as Mingi attempts to steady himself against the wall. Both Yunho and Yeosang are not fairing much better, appearing as if they’ve stopped breathing for the time being.
They all look about ready to pounce on you. In a good way, of course.
“Uh…” you blink at them in shock.
A loud crash is heard as Jongho finally loses his balance, a weight tumbling to the ground as it dislodges from the rack. It lands unceremoniously on his foot, of which he immediately grabs, hopping around as curses fall from his mouth.
“Oh shit, are you okay?” Immediately, you attempt to rush over to Jongho, only to get stopped by two males.
The breath escapes you as you go tumbling to the floor, the bat clattering onto the mat beside you. You hardly register anything for the moment except the sight of the ceiling above you, and the sound of low, pleased snarls filling the room and surrounding you from all angles.
A male rests on top of you, and you can feel yourself laying on top of another, both with their faces pressed into either side of your neck. Their pleased rumbles reverberate through your chest, every exhale they make tickling your skin. You swear they both begin nuzzling into you, too.
“Geez, if this is how you’re going to react every time I smack something, I think we’re going to need to put some rules in place.” You joke, an amused chuckle spilling from your lips as you see Hongjoong finally pull back from your neck to stare into your eyes.
“My Love, you cannot blame us.” There’s a hint of a growl to his words as his gaze swirls with that all too familiar darkness that you’ve become used to. “You must understand, we’ve been dreaming of this moment for a very long time.”
“What?” The corner of your lips quirks upwards. “Me smacking something with a bat?”
“You using any kind of weapon.” Seonghwa answers, his chest rumbling beneath you once more as his grip tightens against your hips.
He shifts beneath you, and you swear that you can feel something hard already pressing firmly into your ass.
Your breath hitches slightly, and you swear you feel him smirk against your skin.
“So, you really could have done some damage to San that day.” Yunho observes casually with a hum.
“Hey!” Said male whines, finally managing to stand back to his feet.
“I would have paid to see it.” Jongho says, replacing the fallen weight back onto the rack.
“You were the one who gave her the bat.” Mingi recalls.
“And I’d do it again!” The youngest replies, quite eagerly at that.
“Okay, so make sure there aren’t any bats around when we do anything to piss her off.” Wooyoung nods, somewhat to himself.
“More like, make sure you hide all the bats when you inevitably annoy her again.” Yunho teases, the others snickering along in agreement.
“Hey!” This time, it’s Wooyoung’s turn to whine.
“Woah, let’s not rule out the fact that I’m not gonna go around smacking you guys for the hell of it.” You chime in, gently guiding Hongjoong off of you for the moment, much to his displeasure.
“So, you don’t want to smack our asses?” Mingi quirks a knowing brow.
“If anyone wants to smack someone’s ass here, Min, it’s you.” You playfully roll your eyes, noticing how he suddenly averts his own gaze knowing damn well that you speak the truth.
“How did we go from baseball bats to smacking asses?” Seonghwa exhales a long sigh, helping you sit up beside him.
“It’s good for moral support.” San quips, Wooyoung immediately nodding along enthusiastically.
“You want me to spank you?” You look at them expectantly, noticing how red quite a few of them begin to get at your words.
Mingi begins to splutter.
“Well, if you’re offering,” Wooyoung smirks deviously, jutting out his hip slightly as if to put his ass on display.
This earns him a smack upside the head from Jongho, who suddenly cannot seem to meet your gaze.
“I mean, if you want me to,” you shrug, unaware of the commotion you’ve just started.
San and Wooyoung now appear to be wrestling on the ground, arguing about who’s going to get felt up first. Meanwhile, both Mingi and Jongho keep pushing each other back every time the other takes a step forward and towards you. Yunho laughs off to the side while both Seonghwa and Hongjoong begin bickering beside you. The only one you have yet to hear speak since this whole fiasco started is Yeosang.
Turning your head, you nearly jump when you see Yeosang crouched beside you. Silently, he presses a finger to his lips, helping you to your feet as you both slip away during the chaos erupting around you.
Carefully, Yeosang leads you to an area off to the side. It’s quite a long area, acting as a shooting range for target practice more than anything. Given how close it is to where you just were, you’re surprised none of the others have noticed your disappearance yet. Looks like they’re too busy bickering with one another to take note of your absence.
“Yeo?” You blink at him curiously, noticing how he moves around quickly, gathering a few things before standing directly in front of you.
“I had to get you away before they noticed.” He smiles, resting a quiver of arrows against the bench closest to you.
A bow rests in his left hand. It’s simplistic in design, and quite slim, but even you can tell that it’s carved from wood despite the smooth, black paint that covers the entirety of it.
“Are you going to shoot for me?” You cannot hide the excitement in your eyes.
“Perhaps.” A teasing quirk to his lips upwards. “Or maybe I intend for us to shoot together.”
Your breath hitches, a large grin painting your features as you giggle gleefully.
“You know, I’ve always loved archery.” You comment, barely able to prevent yourself from bouncing on your toes as you watch him grab an arrow from the quiver.
“I remember.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Would you like to watch me-“
“Yes.” There is no hesitation in your response, even as you clasp your hands over your chest hopefully. “I mean…” You clear your throat, noticing how he blinks at you in mild shock. “Please. I would love to.”
With those final words, you motion for him to continue.
A kind smile and a nod are all you get in response as Yeosang takes his position on the little shooting platform. Still, he holds that bow in his one hand, placing the arrow into the little nook before taking a deep breath to steady himself. Then, with a smooth precision that you’ve become so accustomed to from him, he lifts his weapon, lining up his shot with the target at the end of the track.
Every movement he makes, every breath he takes, you observe carefully. Your eyes never leave him, noting how focused he looks in this very moment. The string of the bow is pressed against the corner of his lips as he draws the arrow back, arms not so much as wavering even in the slightest in their hold. The line from the tip of the arrow to the end of his elbow is steady, and if you didn’t know him, you’d swear he was a statue rather than a living person in this very moment.
A breath, and the arrow is loosed.
The tip spears through the air, landing in a dull thunk as it meets its target across the way. Naturally, it lands dead centre.
Nothing but awe paints your features as you see him turn to you. Adoration is clear in your eyes as you watch him step up to you, a shy smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re incredible, you know that?” You breathe, your hands still clasped in front of your chest.
“That truly means the world to me coming from you, Dearest.” Yeosang smiles softly, bringing his free hand up to gently cup your cheek. “I’m just glad I can finally share this with you.”
“I won’t lie, I’ve been looking forward to this since you mentioned teaching me that day at the mall.” Your lids flutter shut, leaning into his touch.
“Really?” He tilts his head slightly, thumb tenderly stroking along your cheek. At the way you hum in response, he steps in closer, breath ghosting the skin of your lips. “I’m glad.”
Softly, your eyes open to stare deeply into his own. He seems to be studying your every feature, nothing but fondness reflected in his gaze as he cannot help but keep sparing fleeting glances down at your lips.
Your tongue darts out to wet them, and you hear his breath hitch slightly in his throat.
“I always enjoy spending time with you, Yeo.” The admission is but a whisper on your lips, scared that if you speak any louder, you’ll disturb the moment between the two of you.
Faintly, in the background, you can still hear the other seven bickering about something or other. Not that you’re really paying attention to them at the moment.
“The feeling is, and always will be, mutual, My Queen.” He breathes out, leaning forward slightly to rest his forehead against your own.
Your heart flutters.
“Yeosang?”
He hums, tilting his head slightly forward so that his nose brushes against your own.
“Kiss me.”
Like every time before, you do not have to ask him twice.
How the press of his lips against your own always feels just like the very first time escapes you. Always, he holds you gently, pouring everything he is into the movement of his lips over your own. He cradles you close, loving how your own hands find purchase on his shoulders to steady yourself as he kisses your breath away.
It’s slow, and loving. Nothing more expected than what the other is willing to give. All the same, it makes your heart race, nothing but love flooding your veins as he holds you to him gently.
Slowly, he retracts, only for you to quickly press forward to peck his lips a few more times.
He chuckles, “Dearest.”
“You can’t blame me.” You hum, eyes fluttering open as you loop your arms around his neck. “You’re addictive, Yeosang.”
A pleasant shiver caresses his spine as he growls lowly. “I could say the same about you, My Queen.”
You giggle, and it’s still one of the most melodic sounds Yeosang has ever heard in his entire life.
“Now,” you hum, taking a minor step back while unlocking your arms from around his shoulders in order to stare at him eagerly. “Show me how to do that, please.”
Yeosang smiles, his heart thundering inside of his chest. “It would be my honour.”
A dull thud from behind you both draws your attention to see the other seven seemingly wrestling with each other for the moment. Yunho seems to have pinned Mingi on the mat, both Wooyoung and San going after Jongho at the same time. Hongjoong and Seonghwa seem to be attempting to choke the other out while standing on their feet, locked in a stalemate of sorts as chaos thrives around them.
A low chuckle escapes you as you shake your head. “I have a feeling they’ll be busy for a while.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Yeosang grins right along with you. Extending his free hand out to you, his eyes begin to shine, “Shall we?”
“We shall.” You immediately place your hand in his.
Gently, Yeosang guides you up onto that little platform with him, making sure to line you both up with a fresh target on the track.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you see his first arrow still sticking proudly out of that first target off to the side.
“How much do you know about archery?” He asks, nothing but curiosity in his gaze as he grabs another arrow from the quiver.
“Honestly?” You take moment to think. “Not much. Other than what you’ve already told me.”
He nods, stepping in beside you as he offers you the bow.
“The hardest part to begin with can be finding enough strength to draw back the string.” He explains, noting how you carefully observe the bow and all its intricate details as soon as you have it in your hands. Your wonder and awe makes his heart skip a beat. “We can practice that a few times before you attempt to knock an arrow.”
“Okay.” Your eyes dart back up to meet his gaze, and you hear his breath catch in his throat yet again.
With a little help from Yeosang, he’s able to guide you on how to properly hold a bow.
“Don’t be afraid of it, Dearest.” He instructs. “You can cause far more damage with a bow than it can ever do to you while wielding it.”
A nod from you is all he receives that you understand his words.
For a few minutes, he has you practice lifting the bow into a shooting stance, and drawing the string back as if you’re about to take a shot. Still, he holds that arrow in his hand, watching on with nothing but loving pride in his eyes as you follow his every instruction with the utmost care.
“You’re doing wonderful, Dearest.” He grins, his gaze dripping with affection as he watches you absolutely revel in his praise. “You’re picking up things very quickly, especially the basics.”
You giggle, a subtle heat rising to your cheeks. “Well, I did spend a lot of time pretending to be an archer when I was younger. I may not have known much, but some of my favourite characters are, so I wanted to be just like them.”
Yeosang quirks a brow, “Oh?”
“Yeah,” you avert your gaze, somewhat shyly. “Katniss, Kagome, Legolas. I always wanted a bow from the woodland realm when I was small. I thought the designs were beautiful, and like I said before, I’ve always had a fascination with archery.”
“Remind me to show you my collection soon, then.” He hums knowingly, a fond look dancing within his eyes.
Your whole demeanour perks up even further, “Okay!”
“For now, how about we shoot your first arrow?” There’s nothing but tender love in his gaze as he looks at you, seeing as you begin shaking lightly in excitement. “Deep breath, Dearest. You don’t want to be shooting with a shaky arm.”
You grin, nodding eagerly.
Following his instructions and taking a deep, steadying breath, you manage to calm your nerves slightly. Still, you cannot deny the excitement that courses through your veins as he hands you that singular arrow.
Gently, Yeosang instructs you on how to notch it before drawing it back.
“We can practice with you drawing from a quiver another time.” He says. “For now, let’s just keep it simple.”
“Sounds good.” You smile.
“Okay, Dearest,” he motions towards the target with his head. “Whenever you’re ready.”
A nod is all he receives in response as you take another deep breath.
Looking towards your feet, you take a moment to steady your nerves once more. Shifting your gaze, you study that target across the way, relaxing your shoulders just as Yeosang has instructed you to do. Raising the bow, you draw the string back, lining up your shot as best as you can.
The feeling of his eyes watching you is a little nerve wracking to say the least. You can feel your hands shaking as you attempt to steady your aim, holding your breath as your eyes focus in on the target at the end of the track. With each second that passes, you find it increasingly difficult to maintain the pull of the string, that thin band threatening to snap forward and through your grip at any moment.
There’s a furrow to your brow as you concentrate, but even you can tell how shaky you’ve suddenly become.
Softly, Yeosang moves behind you, placing his hands on your waist in comfort.
“Breathe, Dearest.” He whispers lowly into your ear, causing a shiver to caress your spine as his nose trails up the skin of your neck. “You’ve got this.”
Slowly, his hands begin to trail up your sides. Goosebumps erupt on your arms as you feel him cover your one hand holding onto the bow with his own, the other supporting your arm that’s drawing back the string. His chin rests on your shoulder, head leaning in the softest of touches against your own.
Suddenly, the string doesn’t become as difficult to hold onto anymore.
“Guide me.” His voice rumbles out. “We can make the shot together.”
The soothing timbre of his voice manages to calm you, and you find yourself taking another much needed deep breath. The heat of his body pressing against yours only adds to the moment, and you allow the familiar, comforting scent of sea island cotton to surround you.
You steady your hands.
The arrow is loosed in the blink of an eye, and you barely register the dull thunk of it sinking into the target across the way. All you can think about in this moment is how Yeosang’s hands feel settling back on your waist, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he buries his face into the side of your neck.
“See,” he hums lowly, squeezing your waist gently in his grip. “I knew you could do it."
Blinking to clear your vision, you allow your whole body to relax into his touch.
That’s when you see where your arrow has landed.
An involuntary excited squeal escapes you as you turn around in his hold.
“Sangie! Look!” You giggle, eyes crinkling at the sides with your joyous expression. “We hit bullseye!”
“You did that all by yourself, Dearest.” He grins, hands squeezing your hips gently once more. “I’m so proud of you.”
You begin wiggling happily in his hold, eyes falling shut as you smile wide.
“Leave it to Yeosang to steal everyone’s thunder.” Mingi grumbles from off to the side.
Turning your head, you see him standing with his arms crossed, a slight pout on his lips. The others don’t seem to be faring any better, but you’re too happy to care at the moment.
“Guys!” You bounce on your feet, pointing to the target at the end of the track. “Look!”
Several sets of eyes finally take note of the two targets side by side with arrows sticking out of the centre of each of them.
“Is one of those yours, My Love?” There’s a certain prideful gleam shining within Hongjoong’s eyes as he asks this.
At your vigorous nod, they have all the answers they need.
“That’s incredible, Baby!” San immediately rushes over to you, pulling you out of Yeosang’s embrace and into his own. He immediately lifts you in his arms, laughing along with you in your excitement, much to the elder’s annoyance.
“You did wonderful, Petal.” Yunho hums, being the next to walk over to you. Easily, he pulls San off of you, dragging him back in order for Yeosang to wrap you back into his arms once again.
A firm nod is sent to the taller male from Yeosang in thanks, to which Yunho simply smiles at in response.
A pout rests on San’s lips as he crosses his arms, only lessened by the fact that Wooyoung has to be held back by Jongho in the next second before the male tackles you to the ground in his excitement.
“It’s only because I have such a good teacher.” The way you turn and look back at Yeosang with nothing but fondness in your gaze says it all.
Soft rumbles shake their chests as they observe the scene before them, and they know for a fact that the loving look that resides on Yeosang’s features right this very instant is reflected on all of their own faces right now. Seeing you so happy, and so eager to learn even one of their chosen weapons has both a pride and love unlike ever before filling their chests. Emotions of which they will gladly indulge in when they’re with you, any and every time that they can.
“How was shooting an arrow for the first time, My Divine?” Seonghwa asks, an eager gleam to his eyes.
You smile, hands tightening subconsciously around that bow still held in your hands. You spare a glance down at the weapon. “Wonderful.”
“She’s a natural.” Yeosang hums, never tearing his eyes away from you for one second.
“I swear you’re just saying that.” You avert your gaze shyly, a vibrant heat rising to your cheeks.
“We’re not.” Wooyoung shakes his head almost instantly.
“You’re incredible, Starlight.” Mingi adds without a moment of hesitation.
“Our Perfect Queen.” Yunho’s voice rumble out, growls of agreement sounding around you immediately.
You allow for your eyes to flutter shut, revelling in this moment with all of them for as long as you can as you relax further into Yeosang’s embrace.
“My Lovely Kings.” The words are but a pleasant hum on your lips.
Again, eight low growls rumble out through the room. A smile pulls at your lips as the sound dissipates, allowing for a comfortable silence to settle over all of you.
“So,” Yeosang’s low voice by your ear has you blinking your eyes open, heart skipping a beat as you hear his next words, “Want to see my collection?”
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literaticat · 2 years
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What is it called when you split up your dual POV novel and give both main characters an own book in addition? (books that tell the back story of the MC / prequel)
Let's define some terms:
SERIES - There are three different kinds of series.
In what I'd call an episodic series (such as, say, Nancy Drew or Ivy and Bean, or in TV terms, The Simpsons or Scooby-Doo) -- each book is about the same characters but stands alone. You don't need to read one to read the next -- there could be five books or a hundred and five books, it doesn't matter, if you picked up #85, you'd get the idea as quickly as if you started with #1.
In an anthology series (such as, say, Goosebumps or the I Survived series, or in TV terms, the Twilight Zone) -- each book is NOT necessarily about the same characters or situations, but they are tied together by a uniting theme, such as "horror with humor for 8-12 year olds" or "stories of survival in history" or "creepy and unexpected tales" or what have you.)
Then, there's a serialized series. (LOL I know that is redundant -- nobody would ever say "serialized series" -- it's just A SERIES, that I am calling this to differentiate it from the other two kinds! Anyway). This is a continuing story being told over the course of two, three, ten, or whatever books total. Each book will have its own arc, but there is also an arc tying the whole thing together, and you'd probably enjoy the books and understand the importance of what was happening more if you started from the beginning and read through. (Like, HP, Keeper of the Lost Cities, etc, or in TV terms, perhaps a soap opera).
DUOLOGY / TRILOGY / QUARTET - when the whole story is told over the course of two, three, four books total.
SEQUEL - follows the events of the first book, tells us what happens next, continues the adventure. New Moon is both the sequel to Twilight, and the second book of a quartet.
PREQUEL - tells us the events that lead up to the first book, how we got there. Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is both a Prequel to Hunger Games, and a companion book to the original series.
COMPANION BOOK / SPINOFF - A book that technically is in the same world as the series, but which is not part of the "official" story as it would be normally read. So for example, a side character gets their own adventure (which might be the start of a whole new spinoff series for them), or the events of the first book are explained from a different character's POV. Midnight Sun is the same events as Twilight but told from Edward's perspective - It's a companion book.
So on to your question:
If the books are telling backstory leading up to the main book, I'd probably call them Prequels (just like you did).
But if you don't feel like they are prequels (like they are just ABOUT those characters, they are getting their own story, not necessarily literally showing us the events that lead to the first book), you could just as correctly call them "companion books."
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bailaconox · 1 year
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basically the only photos i took at ateez in toronto hamilton 12.02.22 🤧❤️‍🩹 i had the best day of my entire life yesterday and i cannot thank ateez enough for filling me with so much love and happiness ❤️
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just me rambling about my whole ateez concert experience under the cut ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
I CANNOT BELIEVE AFTER TEN FUCKING YEARS OF LIKING KPOP I FINALLY GOT TO EXPERIENCE A KPOP CONCERT IN ALL OF ITS UNIQUE GLORY!!!!!!!!!!
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FIRST CONCERT IN OVER THREE YEARS AND AFTER THE SHITTIEST FUCKING LUCK WITH TICKETING AND CONCERTS IN GENERAL..... IT ALL FINALLY PAID OFF?????? THE UNIVERSE ALIGNED JUST RIGHT SO THAT I COULD FINALLY HAVE THE BEST EXPERIENCE OF MY FUCKING LIFE AND THERE IS NEVER A MOMENT I AM NOT EXTREMELY THANKFUL TO ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED TO GIVE ME THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE LAST NIGHT
first ever top tier vip first ever vip ga first ever soundcheck first ever true barricade first kpop concert in person first ateez concert first time everything went about as perfect as i dreamt it would
despite being wristband number 337 i was one person away from touching the barricade, left side of the stage at the corner where the catwalk meets the main stage, so fucking close either san or seonghwa is literally covering me in the crowd photo 🤧😭❤️‍🩹 WHICH IM NOT MAD ABOUT AT ALL THAT FEELS LIKE A TOTAL FUCKING WIN IN MY BOOK!!!!!!!!
the crowd wasnt pushy and agressive and shoving
and i saw ateez with my own eyes in person in real life just a few feet away from me.. they're really real... they are so real and so beautiful and sweet and talented and pretty and funny and amazing and good and wonderful and damn near perfect
god i really dont wanna sound crazy delusional but i really believe seonghwa made Prolonged Eye Contact with me 😳😳😳😳😳😳 like i spent the whole concert no phone except once and i just. was Looking at them. so amazed captivated mesmerized. and i want to believe seonghwa saw me just STARING in a very stunned fashion and made eye contact and just like. smiled laughed a little smirked a lot maybe thought it was funny how i was like 👁👄👁. this at least is the story i built in my head and will choose to believe!
and i dont think it was me he called out but during the part where hongjoong split the crowd and made my side say "break" he said someone forgot and did it like a full two seconds after everyone else aND HE WAS LOOKING WAY TOO CLOSE TO WHERE I WAS STANDING LIKE I DONT THINK THAT WAS ME BUT SOMEONE IN A ONE TO TWO PERSON RADIUS FROM ME DID THAT AND IM SCARED IT WAS ME BC I DONT FUCKDKIEUNG REMEMBER WHAT I DID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
god i made the best call ever though by not taking photos because i just got to LOOK AT THEM!!!!!!!! RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF MY EYES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my justification is that i absolutely hate looking through any concert videos or pictures i have ever taken for some reason. combined with the fact that 10000000% of why im there is to SEE THEM LIVE IN THE FLESH IN REAL LIFE so i dont wanna end up staring at my phone the whole night bc it wouldnt feel as real as looking at THEM you know???? and every other person has enough concert footage to refresh my memories so im more than happy with that choice! i only took these couple and one video to prove where i was standing in the crowd lmao
as per usual at concerts every moment in line and before the soundcheck was a fucking nightmare but oh my fucking god i got one of the best spots in the whole venue and every part of that show made up for the shit i dealt with about a million times over!!!!!!! i GET it now i GET why people do this i GET why they fight for vip and barricade !!!!!!!! the experience of not only looking directly at them, but KNOWING FOR A FACT THEY SAW ME TOO, is something ill never ever ever get used to.. i feel so fucking grateful for getting so damn lucky.. it was one of the most amazing things i've ever experienced and my god. i want more
but i dont expect all my concert unluckiness to have vanished bc im not financially in a place to arrange the logistics of all that on my own! im not kidding when i said the stars fucking aligned just perfectly to create this entire experience, there were so many tiny things that could have gone wrong or prevented me from going altogether but... for once... for the only time ever in my life up to this point, everything was perfect and i had the perfect day and i got more than i ever dreamt i could.
it felt so special to not just be there for all of my own reasons, but having it be ateez's first time in canada and the last show of this tour. the hello82 video and watching that with them and singing star 1117 was .. magical honestly??? and also made me realize i've never been to a concert before where the artist got super emotional and cried on stage??? but there was more love in that room than i've maybe ever felt in my whole life and there are no words to explain how special and important every single second of that night truly was... and i will never forget how it felt to be there, to finally be there, to be there of all places!!!!!!!!!!
and i love ateez with all my heart and soul. oh my god. i just realized if i started liking them in late august of 2019. i started liking them either right before or right after the last concert i went to. i saw the jonas brothers in august 2019 and i started liking ateez in 2019 and i havent been to a single concert in three whole years until last night. with ateez. and i get it now, why the universe aligned the stars for me, for this. oh my god
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gloomythedance · 7 days
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we used to have this giant dead tree behind the acre where our house is located.
its wide trunk and single branch reached up to the sky, towering above the brambles of short mesquites choking the ground beneath.
my brother and i ventured out one year, drawn by the sight of its smooth gray bark.
we dressed in our father's old canvas clothes, to protect us against sharp mesquite thorns pressing against our arms and goat heads collecting on our socks.
the trails winding behind our house were not treacherous, but overgrown with dead grass in their fifteen years of disuse. the rattlesnakes weren't out yet, either.
we stood at the back metal fence. the dusty trail on the other side split after a few feet, disappearing quickly into the fifty-or-so leaf-less mesquite trees growing between us and our goal, but we knew the way. we jumped the fence.
he went down the left path, and i took the right. my eyes rarely left the stone-marked path---pale beige in coloring, and dotted with small brown and red rocks. Occasionally I would look around for my brother, but the grayish brown branches were so tightly packed that despite being only thirty feet apart, I was alone.
I crouched to fit beneath the wiry reaching arms of trees, hearing their thin needles scrape against my jacket. Five minutes later, we met where our trails connected.
Before us was a clearing of dead grass. the giant tree stood taller than ever. We gathered rocks in our hands, and threw them into the grass at our feet, then five feet away, then ten feet away. We slowly walked forward, wading through the waist-high clearing.
We reached the empty wash at the other end---our last obstacle. Three feet deep, five feet across. Washes like these frequently revealed ancient bones from extinct species, but sadly ours did not. I climbed through. My brother jumped.
The tree itself was so smooth that we couldn't climb up. It sat between two parallel washes: a space filled with little desert-willows with no leaves yet and a giant fallen gray tree trunk. We never knew whether or not it was part of the same tree, especially since it was equal in size and width.
In a small space behind the tree, I saw a discoloration in the ground. I approached this small smooth rectangle and saw it was an open book's pages barely peeking past the dark dirt. After prodding it with a stick, I found it to be akin to petrified---it was a solid mass of wood pulp, save for its two pages open to the desert sun.
It was formatted like a Bible, with a book name and verses and everything, but after returning to the computer at the house, we couldn't find the name of it's book in the Bible itself.
We returned to the tree once per year to see it change during the monsoon. We walked through the washes to reach it during those rainy times, because the trails were so impenetrably dense with plant matter.
I sometimes wish I could go back there, and find those pretty desert-willows and their blossoms. I wish I could balance atop the fallen tree trunk in the cool of an overcast day and run my fingers across its bark.
We returned to the tree for maybe five years before the fire came and almost claimed our house. It took over mountains and fields, burning for weeks with almost no end in sight.
After two months of being away and traded between different families' spare rooms while the fire died down, I finally walked those back trails again.
I followed the ashy footprints along our back porch that were merely a ghost of the firemen who once stood there. I passed the still-standing metal fence into a field of the burnt husks of mesquite tree trunks, sticking out of the ash like tombstones. For the first time in my life, I could see the entirety of the stone trails.
My footsteps were almost silent. The sheer amount of ash cushioned my shoes. I followed the dark brownish-black trails all the way to where the giant tree should've been. Of course nothing was there.
Now, all the trees have grown back. The back yard looks the same as ever, but I will never get to see that giant tree again. It exists solely in my mind, and that of my brother.
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I’d be happy living in a romantic fantasy for the next decade.
God, what a mind fuck this last month of mania tipping back into psychosis was. My brain is on fire.
The psychosis started when I was smoking in my studio at home reading a book. Suddenly a random Madrugada song started playing on my computer, I whipped up to see the screen, that sort of thing happened all the time on my phone last time I was psychotic. Then the lights started flickering. Then an overwhelming sexual feeling swept over my body and my bad voice said “oh, hello again,” and I was struck terrified because I knew the devil was real and He was with me. I wandered in a daze for three days, the voice ceaseless, describing tortures that increasingly grew more intense and frightening. Multiplying exponentially. I’d be tortured in an infinite amount of universes and I’d feel it all. I’d have no chance to think of love or beauty, my mind would be single pointedly fixated on physical pain. The narrative would shift. I was the only other conscious entity in the universe except for Evil. Every person I had ever met was the Devil in disguise. Making me think I was loved and cared for. Then I’d wake up strapped to a table with my loved ones around me, photos of my life all on the walls, and they’d all scream gleefully “HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATIE” and begin to tear me apart with knives and forks, eating me piece by piece, that would be the first hell, eating me as I screamed, then I’d die, then I’d wake up in a dentists chair frozen where I’d wait for 4 hours until someone would walk thru the door and dissect me while alive, cutting open my head and cutting into my brain piece by piece. Then I’d die and I’d relive the experiences of the serial killer victims I read about on Reddit 7 years ago, reading everything, feeling sick yet addicted, I would experience all those lives, I’d experience every pain and torture on earth until I’d lived 20 billion tortures. Then the splitting would occur. I’d be in two worlds at once, different tortures at the same time. Then 3 worlds. Then suddenly 10,000. The Tao Te Ching. one becomes two becomes three becomes ten thousand. It would increase exponentially until I was every molecule in the universe, every single piece of matter, all feeling infinite pain. Sometimes my friends and family were real, and part of my hell would be seeing them sent to hell while believing I was the cause of it, they’d feel total betrayal and insanity and pain, never being free from it, physical and emotional torture, the voice told me Frannie was still alive and my parents would split her into pieces the next time I came to visit and then after she died her Energy and Being would be dissected piece by piece, tiny atoms of pain floating away from her as she disintegrated into endless torture floating in a void of Pain.
Beth calling, more later.
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