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#i use that yearning to fuel my writing and it's honestly both hard on me and soothing
beevean · 10 months
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I honestly think Hector and Isaac's set up is ripe material to write a story about abuse, and I'm disappointed I haven't found anything about it. It's why I like it so much.
Hector and Isaac aren't just servants of Dracula, like Shaft would be. They are so dependant on him, on an emotional level.
They haven't known human kindness. They were hurt and rejected and made to feel something else than human. They both ran to Dracula, who welcomed them and allowed them to exist. In fact, under him, they proved their worth and became Generals, which proves that Dracula respected them. We know that he may have simply found their powers useful and didn't really care about Hector and Isaac as people, but from their perspective, they were being finally being appreciated for the same innate curse that caused them grief when they lived with humankind.
They're not human anymore. Dracula's magic and teachings turned them into something to be feared. They're no longer victims, but they're the ones who hold the power.
They have nowhere else to go. They don't know anything else.
From the PtR manga:
"Were we known by humans, we would be chased away with stones… a place where we can exist… a place to cling to… Where was it?!"
"The ability to rebel and blaspheme against the Divine Providence is accepted without blame. A place where we are allowed to exist."
"We respectfully obeyed, to cling to."
In the MF manga, even after Hector ran away, he calls himself a demon and "something to be detested", clearly because of his nature alone.
And this quote too:
"Count Dracula... My powers were needed and recognized by you. There were times when such things gave me joy."
And in this version, they came to Dracula when they were teenagers!
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your honor, this is a full ass baby. he's about to sell his soul to the devil while looking like the cutest emo kid ever. dracula you fucker maybe don't accept children in your care.
In short, they are so, so vulnerable.
Don't you think Dracula couldn't easily manipulate them to do his bidding?
Don't you think he couldn't dangle the love they so craved right in front of their faces, for a fair price?
Don't you think he couldn't guilt trip them, reminding them of everything he did for him? He's the one giving them a home, and powers, and appreciation. And they swore loyalty to him, of their own volition. Nevermind that they did it because it was the only viable way in their mind :)
Don't you think he wouldn't take advantage of how much Isaac yearned to be loved recognized, or the fact that Hector got used to being the favorite and it's so hard to disappoint the one who values you so much?
Don't you think he wouldn't deliberately pit them against each other, playing blatant favorites and comparing the two, to fuel resentment, further isolate them, and making sure they'd only run to him?
I personally also like to imagine that Dracula sees his Devil Forgemasters in the same way as they see their Innocent Devils: magnificient creations of their own power, but ultimately just tools to be used. Isaac is happy to dehumanize himself, Hector... needs to be broken more :)
Of course, all of this makes Hector's defection so much more admirable. He took a look at the only creature who treated him as something worth of respect, and thought "no, I deserve better than you", and left, even though he would have either died or met even more cruelty. Instead, he met Rosaly, who gave him actual unconditional love <3
love this story so much. i see it, it's so clear in my vision.
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feedtheriver · 3 years
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i just wrote 2.1k words about being in love. it's cold in my room. i have a crush on a boy. i have i'm done with the world by foals running through my head. i am desperate for a hug and to be protected. life is serene after midnight.
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sweetestlamb · 3 years
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The Greatest Show
Summary: Come on, get into it. 
Author's note: I haven’t been inspired to write for this fandom in a while because honestly the writers are doing amazing, everything I think of is pure filth because I am eagerly awaiting their next kiss. But episode 17 broke my brain with their squash the rumor scene, the growling and grunting that So-Bong was so unaffected by. These two need a tent, desperately. Enjoy my royal pervs, here is my offering. 
p.s. picture borrowed from @tomorrowsdrama- thank you for the screenshots of this amazing moment! 
He's doing what he must to survive, that's all. End of sentence. He takes no pleasure in slamming the King into the closest surface and rubbing their body against him like a cat in heat, not in the slightest. Rumors are weeds, you have to rip them out for flowers and crops to flourish. That's all they're doing, weeding the garden of Joseon so it can flourish for their future child. 
That's what he tells himself as they cross paths in the royal hall, the King is flagged by the entire royal court animatedly discussing something of seemingly vast importance if their volume suggests anything. As he takes a step forward, Court Lady Choi seizes their hand halting them in place.
"Your highness you just not approach the King when he is with the Royal court. It is not proper. We just simply bow as they walk by."
But he doesn't care about propriety or appearing decent and well-behaved in front of these corrupt old bags, they are simply larger weeds that need to be disposed of. Smirking at their potential outrage, he grins evilly letting that fuel him even more before pulling up their dress to run over to their Cheoljongie. He looks bored out of his mind so it can also be considered a good deed, he's such a giving wife.
"My King!" Her voice rings out as he calls to his husband, who immediately looks over at them warmth filling those expressive eyes. Without hesitation the King bounds over to them happily, his movement only slightly faster than his usual glide ever the diligent King.
"My Queen, I have missed you."
The members of the backstabbing clan look disgruntled at the King's sudden departure, grumbling and pointing at them as if they have committed the highest crime.
If they think this is inappropriate then they're in for a huge surprise.
Looking down demurely, he thinks of his younger days when he was a junior understudy for the school play his acting prowess would come in handy now.
"Not as much as I have missed you, my love." He whispers the word of affection, reaching up to caress the King's cheeks softly making sure to appear infatuated. He has to force that after all because he doesn't do that naturally, despite what the royal maids claim. They are just confused, So-yong has a soft face that appears adoring at time despite his true emotions. 
With a soft whimper he throws himself into the King's arm, feeling those strong arms encircle her small waist, lightning zips through their veins but he ignores her bodily reaction.
We're just acting, take the memo! He internally berates the other inhabitant of this hormonally charged body.
But when Cheoljong strokes their neck and easily lifts them off their feet, he gasps loudly clinging to him harder for balance and because her knees suddenly feel weak.
"Your majesty, we do not have time for such....improper dalliance. You must not do this in such a public venue." One of the old farts stage whispers sounding positively scandalized and it revs him up even further. As he feels the King starting to retreat he jumps forward, wrapping their body around the King's like a limpet.
Cheoljong's eyes sparks to life the new position placing them eye to eye, panting softly onto each other. The air between them is charged and thick like a bowl of porridge. 
"Your highness, I agree you mustn't do this." Court lady Choi pleads with her, averting her eyes away from the tangled couple. 
He looks over Cheoljong's wide shoulders to see the Royal court affronted and wide eyed and Court Lady Choi with a similar expression, Hong Yeon is trying desperately to smother her smile as she averts her eyes. Sending her a secret wink, he pulls the King's head forward staring hungrily at his lips.
"I cannot resist, seeing him awakens such deep passion inside of me. Just one?"
He looks at her dazed, as if he's forgotten everyone surrounding them.
"Just...one?" He questions, confusion morphing into sudden realization as he watches them slide their tongue across plush lips.
"Oh."
Ignoring the cacophony of voices around them, he closes the miniscule space between them puckering up and kissing the soft skin of the King's cheek. Cheoljong tries blindly to catch her lips when they retract but he places a slim finger on his pursed lips.
Shaking their head lightly, he starts to slide down the King's hard body feeling the tight muscles even through the layers of fabric.
"We must save the rest for later, my heart. Come and visit us soon." He rubs at his stomach fondly, staring up into Cheoljong’s red face, he looks good enough to eat.
Wait what. Who thought that? No, it's the baby talking I'm just hungry, that's enough of a show.
Bowing deeply at the men, he steps around the King who is still frozen in his spot. Gathering himself he turns to the royal court with an innocent smile, "I apologize, I could not control myself. I will take a long walk to reflect on my behavior."
They collectively stare at her with gaped mouths as she walks off regally, shoulders straight as if nothing happened. After a few steps he turns around, calling over their shoulder, "Don't keep me waiting!" And then to add the proverbial cherry on top, he curls their finger before letting out a roar to which everyone jumps looking bewildered, except the King whose eyes could pierce a hole through their face.
He looks like a starved man. Maybe they should make him some more ramyeon?
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To say he's flustered is a bit of an understatement considered the problem in his pants. Logically he understands the Queen's actions earlier, she'd merely been doing what they had both agreed to feigning affection to dissolve those erroneous rumors that were circulating the kingdom. But he would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this immensely.
His Queen was an enigma he had even up on fully understanding, instead choosing to accept her and all that came with her. And her feelings for him were part of his confusion, she seemed to fluctuate between her emotions without rhyme or reason. He never knew which version of her he would be receiving at any given moment. So having her acting the way he'd only imagined in his dreams was both satisfying and unsettling.
It would be most difficult to go back to their normal, he wanted her in his arms always. Desperately yearned for intimacy that didn't dissipate when the sun peeked over the horizon.
Pushing his work to the side of the table he sighs leaning back into his seat thinking about his Queen.
"Why must she be so confusing?" He groans to myself thinking about their first night together, how passionate she'd been his ears burn remembering the sharp pain of her teeth sinking it. He had bite marks in... interesting places from that heated encounter but her behavior after had been consistent only in it's in inconsistency.
Running away from him, even going as far as hiding. Then just as suddenly she stopped avoiding him and they settled into comfortable nights together. However, they hadn't been intimate since despite his many efforts, he just wanted a kiss those plush pink lips were so tempting and today they'd been so very close. He needed that kiss like he needed air, he didn't care who was around. If she had kissed him he wouldn't have controlled himself, he would have hungrily devoured.
"Your majesty it is getting late, we must leave now if you wish to see the Queen." The head eunuch interrupts his inklings, bowing low in respect.
Is he ready for this? His control feels paper thin at the moment. But he did promise and they have an image to uphold.
Gathering his strength he rises, "Alright, let us take over leave. I shouldn't keep my Queen waiting."
The walk to Daejeon Hall is short but it feels like he's traversing miles, despite his previous concerns he is now eager to see the Queen. Her face is gorgeous at all hours but there's something about her face lit with candlelight, knowing he's the only one who is allowed to see her at such hours.
Accelerating his feet, he almost races to her ignoring cries from the head eunuch in the distance. Every second not spent in her company is a second wasted.
The Queen's Court lady announces his arrival before they all bow walking backwards out of the room before sliding the doors shut.
"You took your sweet time, I told you not to keep me waiting." She glares at him, pouting slightly bringing all his attention to her mouth.
"I apologize my Queen there were pressing matters to deal with." He lies easily no attention of clarifying his meaning, she doesn't need to know that dousing his arousal was the pressing matter at hand.
"Whatever. What's more important than me?" She scoffs looking offended turning away from him.
He lowers down into a crouch, crawling across the room until they are side by side. The Queen gasps at his unexpected closeness, staring at him with wide eyes and open lips.
Grasping at her hands he stares deeply into her gorgeous eyes solemnly with no humor in his voice, "Nothing. You are most important to me, both of you." Reverently he reaches out a hand to palm at her still small belly, impatient to see her round with his seed.
Her face slowly softens as he rubs her stomach and then she places her hand atop his, no longer resistant to these fleeting moments of intimacy.
Instinctively he starts to lean forward, laser focus on her lips as he inches closer to her. When he's close enough to breath into her mouth she snaps from her haze, moving back marginally he almost growls at her he's so frustrated, he's barely able to swallow the sound.
"What are you doing? There's no one to put on a show for."
He peers at her searching her face, her pupils are dilated and he can feel how fast she's breathing each puff landing on his face, her expression near identical to their last night together. But she's stopping him. Even though she clearly desires this too.
He thinks back to her behavior earlier too, she was brazen then comfortable climbing him in front of so many others all in the name of squashing the rumors.
She needs an excuse to do this.
He should feel offended by this epiphany but instead it brings him resolve, she clearly still hasn't fully let him into her heart but she feels something for him she's more than proven that to him. If she needs to draw a line to be with him then so be it for now, he will prove himself to her everyday.
"There are several court maids and servants outside your room, they are pretending they are not listening but they are. Sometimes your imagination can be even more powerful than reality."
She looks towards the door, eying the shadows through the thin covering before turning back to him and nodding in understanding.
"Okay. Let's give them a show."
Without warning she knocks a marble vase to the ground, the loud crash filling the room as it makes contact with the floor.
Then she moans. Loudly. A suggestive gasping moan that goes straight to his chest before zinging lower, tucking at his loins.
She pushes him when he sits silently merely staring at her, "You need to play along too. Come on, get into it."
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There's it is again. That damn phrase.
Get into it.
If only she knew how into it he truly was. Grabbing at her ankle and tucking her underneath him, he slams his arms on either side of her head before groaning deeply, "My Queen, please."
Pride explodes in his chest when he sees a deep blush glide across her face. Not unaffected.
"Am I getting into it enough for you now?" He whispers darkly, itching to lower his weight and kiss that delicious look off her face.
Surprisingly she stutters out, "Ye-a-ah. You seem very into it now, nobody can see us though. We don't need to be like this." She motions between their bodies, unable to meet his gaze now. She motions between their bodies, unable to meet his gaze now. She's right but he also knows that he can't miss this chance, he has her right where he wants her and besides squirming distractedly she hasn't shown any desire for him to move away.
"Do you want me to stop?" When she doesn't immediately answer he begins to move backward giving her space but she latches onto his forearm, tight.
"Wait! Maybe we should commit even if they can't see us, it'll help us play our roles better." She reasons and he smiles, razor sharp. She wants this just as badly as he does, he's studied her long enough to read between these lines.
Swiftly he rolls them over so she's on top, pressed together from shoulders to feet her long braid swinging over and brushing against his cheek. Gently wrapping it around his hand he uses it to bring her closer, her breath hitches seductively and he whispers, "Louder. So they can hear you." Without waiting for a reply he tugs at her hair again harder this time and the sound that escapes her lips is orgasmic, a high whining moan that sets his skin on fire. Emboldened and aroused he grabs her neck, speaking into her opened mouth "Do you like that my Queen?" Her eyes are glazed over as she sways as if intoxicated by him.
"Cheoljong, kiss me."
It's too quiet for anyone's ears but his and that makes him even hotter, this wasn't part of the show. This was just for him, just for them.
Always one to seize the moment, he yanks her down to meet his eagerly waiting mouth swallowing the moan that rolls off her tongue. The kiss escalates immediately with both twisting and licking, wet sucking noises soaking the room as they bring apart to gasp for air and crash back together, chaotically and perfectly. When he feels a wondering hand graze his groin he can't resist the urge to thrust up into her touch. Wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her even closer, although there is no space between them.
When he pulls back, her eyes remain close as she licks her lips as if chasing his taste on them. His cock jumps jealously.
"I want you." He admits, wanting to make it clear if his intentions are not already crystalline to her. He wants no room for misunderstandings tonight.
She stares wordlessly before reaching across his body and then he sees the oil in her hand, he hadn't noticed its presence next to them but he eagerly takes it from her.
"Are you comfortable?"
"Don't go soft on me now, bring back the guy who was pulling my hair. Do you want me to call you Daddy too?"
His breath hitches at the word, he doesn't understand why but hearing her makes something dark coil in his belly. She lifts an eyebrow at his heavy silence, "You're so kinky."
He stares confused again, nothing new to him but he stores the word away for further inspection of its meaning. "Is kin-ky bad?" He asks reaching down to lower his pants and cover himself in the thick oil coating each inch of the hard pole.
She doesn't answer right away, avidly watching him stroke himself to fullness before rubbing at the bulbous deep scarlet head, serving to make him almost painfully turned on. "No, kinky is good. I like kinky." She tugs her skirt up and his eyes bulge when instead of seeing the various layers he should see there is only bare skin.
Had he been seduced? It feels as if he has been but he doesn't care enough to question her or pause this for a second. He would happily be her fool.
Gripping at her hips he rubs against her, groaning when her wetness smears across him obscenely. She grinds down onto him meeting him head on, they are definitely on the same page now.
Unable to wait for even another second, he envelopes her in his arms before sliding into her smoothly her natural moisture and the oil easing the way until he is completely encased. She moans long and wailing as he slides to the hilt, he groans loudly joining her as she scratches roughly down his back even through the sturdy material he can feel the burn. Absently he considers gentling his moves, she is pregnant and more fragile after all. But she must read his face and be vehemently against his plan because suddenly she rises up, slipping off his hardness before slamming back down the loud smacking of skin filling the room.
"It's time for the main event. Don’t stop now.” She challenges him, squeezing around his erection. 
Pushing his reservations to the side, he gets into it full heartedly thrusting hard before capturing her mouth in a harsh kiss, hissing when he feels her teeth tug roughly at his bottom lip, his lioness has returned. He teasingly roars into her mouth and she laughs around his tongue, breaking free only to latch on his neck sucking hard. He hopes it leaves a mark.
Her laughter causes her to tighten around him and he groans at her vice like grip on his cock, he can feel himself nearing the end. Recalling their first night he suddenly grabs her neck, squeezing lightly and when she whines in a broken gasp he tightens his hand and delights as she melts slowly limp in his hold, he supports her weight easily bucking into her tight heat. When he thrusts up a second time he feels her wetness gush around him before he loses himself, his climax tensing his body as he slowly falls apart.
The entire kingdom will surely be in an uproar tomorrow.
He's looking forward to it. That will teach them to spread rumors about their intimate affairs. 
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In the hallway, Hong Yeon brings her hands to her hot cheeks feeling overheated from the King and Queen's boisterous gathering. Every court maid is blushing as they look discretely at the door with every moan and groan that escapes. She hopes this will qualm the rumors in the kingdom, she cannot take this for much longer. Court lady Choi had left to retrieve water after their first moans and had yet to return, she surmised if the Queen were not already with child she would have been impregnated again going by the sounds they were making. It was all too obvious to her, despite the Queen's strange behavior at times, they were desperately in love with each other. She'd never seen two people who were more crafted for the other.
Anyone who thought otherwise was a fool. 
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bro I sent the matt/kate ask and you gave me kate/frank feelings so like if you want to can I have that as well?
How dare you. i have been waiting for years to be asked about frankate (also i feel the need to clarify that this is very specifically Nazar-fic-Kate)
What was their first impression of each other?
“this fucking idiot” basically. they meet when Matt is chained to the roof and Kate is like “pls stop terrorizing my bf” and frank is like “your bf is a moron”
What is their ship name?
Frankate...frankkate? anything that’s a chess pun (bishop...castle...get it...)
in my WIPs they’re spooks and snipers
Describe their relationship dynamic.
Kate: FRANK NO
Frank: FRANK YES
it’s honestly a lot of philosophical discussions about killing people, Frank calling Kate out on her bullshit, and Kate acting as an impulse check. One of the BIG THINGS with this relationship is Kate realizing that Frank can and will kill someone if she asks him to, no questions asked, and that is both terrifying and a turn on. The fact that Frank trusts her moral compass so completely--he realizes that he’s a little fucked up when it comes to that, so he will look to her for the thumbs up/thumbs down kind of thing. 
like. to the point Kate has to kick Frank out of a fancy Bishop party because if he stays she knows she’ll ask him to kill her dad and he WILL.
What was their relationship like before they got together?
once they got done bitching at each other over Daredevil (and Kate yelled at him a LOT) they worked pretty well together? Kate helped Frank figure out the drug smuggling thing (turns out Derek Bishop was involved with that). They would get each other coffee and check in with each other’s mental health. Frank is very soft with her, in a lot of ways. But also not, they did beat each other up at least once and Frank shot her very much on purpose but they always were fond of each other. 
once they meet back up after Matt ~dies~ they’re....really, really good for each other. Kate feels like she’s able to be honest with Frank in a way she can’t be with anyone else, because what the hell could she say that would scandalize Frank? She doesn’t need to step lightly around him because Frank’s never stepped lightly in his life. Kate feeling like she has more leeway to be brutally honest around Frank means he feels freer to be honest around her, and she’s seen some shit so he respects her in a way he doesn’t respect a lot of people. 
Kate gets to be angry around Frank in a way she can’t with anyone else, except maybe Clint, and that’s really important.
They both like coffee and dogs, i mean, what more do you need
How would they describe each other?
Kate: That asshole
Frank: fuckin’ fed
What do they love about each other?
absolutely nothing. they barely even know each other! what are you talking about?? go away.
they love how fighty the other is, even if it drives them crazy. the inability to leave well enough alone, the willingness to do stupid stuff together.
What do they have in common?
WEAPONS. Kate doesn’t use guns professionally but she does love going to a range every now and then. Kate knows bows and grenade launchers and long range rifles, but doesn’t care for handguns. so there’s a lot of very sexually charged shooting dates where Kate lets Frank put his hands on her and around her to correct her grip, and he knows she’s just letting him, for the most part, but they both like it. she teaches him how to use a bow, and he’s terrible. it doesn’t help that Kate smells really good and she’s very very close and he’s never going to need to know how to shoot a recurve, so he doesn’t feel bad about not paying attention. Kate has general gun knowledge so he gets super obscure stuff to teach her how to shoot. like a musket, or the kind of rifle you’d take down a hippo with, something with a shitton of recoil so he can brace her against him. He’s not a proud man, okay, he’ll take his excuses to hold Kate close in public wherever he can
Frank likes dressing Kate up in body armor and Kate likes dressing Frank up in sweaters and suits. 
Also dogs. The have Lucky, and the dog Frank rescues. Kate names him something terrible. Like Charm (lucky and charm, get it?) or (apple) Jack (lucky charms and apple jacks) or Oberon
What are some differences between them?
Frank is very willing to kill. Kate is not. Frank is very mission-oriented--he’s a soldier, he gets a job, he does it. Kate’s been a leader, she’s worked with bureaucracy, she thinks about the optics of situations (yes it makes sense to have a shootout on the boardwalk but perhaps we could go to a less family-friendly location?)
What made them realize they were in love?
almost losing each other--or thinking they were almost losing each other. also, the day Sarah Lieberman kisses Frank. That’s when Frank has the realization of “okay, the kissing, that’s fine, but there’s actually someone specific I’d like to do this with” and with Kate it was more like “ (: i’m so happy ((: frank has found some happiness. i am not jealous of him kissing someone else (((: that would be silly”
What are their love languages?
so much physical affection. so much wound bandaging. Frank bringing Kate coffee to work or food to a stakeout. Beating up muggers together. Cooking together, they’re so disgustingly domestic. cuddling. all the time cuddling. hands in back pockets, pinkies linked, Frank just COCOONS her in bed (which is not to say Kate is always the little spoon. Frank loves being little spoon every now and then) they both get very octopus-limbed with each other. “if i’m plastered to you you can’t leave without me” kind of thing. they’re lowkey possessive
Do they get married? Who proposes and how?
Frank proposes, but getting to that point is a team effort, yanno? They're out in LA and Kate's in the kitchen stock still because she's living??? With Frank castle??? And kind of has been for a WHILE? And Frank's wrestling with Lucky and Kate suddenly realizes she loves him so much and there's like pasta boiling on the stove and its domestic and unexciting and neither of them are bleeding and Kate sort of dazedly says “hey Frank, would you be interested in getting married someday?”
and Frank doesn’t answer, just rummages around in one of his bags, pulls out a small box that he tosses to her. Inside is a ring. “took you long enough,” he says
What would happen if they never met?
they’re both very sad and depressed. i feel like being with Kate gives Frank more moral nuance and being with Frank makes Kate rawer, in a way. So without each other, they are really closed off emotionally. Kind of frozen.
Who dies first? How does the other one react?
Woooof ok Frank probably dies first and Kate is fucking FURIOUS about it. It's not unexpected because hes the punisher for god's sake, and he's older than her by almost a decade but still
It could happen, though, that Kate dies first, sudden and unexpected. And Frank loses. His. Shit. Idk who kills her, Fisk or Masque or Russo or all three, but you can bet your ass Frank gets his bloody revenge. And he doesn't technically kill himself, but he's reckless and gets shot a lot and bleeds out on Kate's grave. Yeah.
Are there any love rivals?
BILLY RUSSO, Totes makes a move on Kate, and also he’s in love with Frank so there’s that. 
Matt isn’t really a rival? In a perfect world they’re ot3 but do not ask me how we get from Matt pretending to be dead to a happy healthy polyamorous relationship, i don’t know
Describe your favorite moment of that ship!
the pining! the mutual yearning! and both of them are like “this is not a good time for a relationship” and then the dumb jealousy! Frank is jealous of Billy Russo, who is trying to get Kate to work for him, and Kate is jealous of Micro’s wife, Sarah, when she kisses Frank, the YEARNING
What do other characters think about this relationship?
“What. the hap. is fuckening”
Micro gets it, he thinks they’re idiots and adorable af, you know, for people who are such deadly shots, but most of the people on Kate’s side of the equation just don’t get it or think Frank’s a rebound. America and Cassie are the first ones to realize he’s sticking around.
Karen’s not to sure about them, but she likes them both and thinks they’re good for each other. 
Curtis think they’re both morons (fond) but in different ways so they balance out.
Most people on Frank’s side of the equation get it. People on Kate’s side are like “you went from self-castigating catholic lawyer to vengeance-fueled murder machine, are you ok?” 
Describe or write a really fluffy scene!
ohhhh ok so this is. probably one of my favorite scenes ever. not because it’s particularly well-written, but because i like the idea behind it
Kate has her legs wrapped around Frank, her arms draped over his shoulders as they watch the sun set over the ocean. He is very much a person to drape oneself over.
"Frank," she says, a touch of reverence in her voice as the light catches something. "Frank."
"What?"
"You've got grey hair."
"The fuck? Seriously, Spook, you gotta point that out when we're doing the romantic thing?"
Kate wraps her hands around his skull, tipping it this way and that. It's hard to tell when he has it this short but—yeah. It's there. Kate swallows down an unexpected lump in her throat as Frank continues to bitch until she drapes herself more over his shoulder and turns his head so she can shut him up with a kiss.
Kisses.
A lot of kisses, actually.
"Jesus," he pulls back after a minute, the pad of his thumb rough on her cheek as he swipes at the moisture under her eyes. "You cryin' over some grey hairs?"
"I didn't think you'd stick around long enough for me to see them," she admits.
"Not goin' anywhere, Spook. You're stuck with me."
He's not getting it. Kate presses her forehead against his, her fingers finding the spot where a bullet entered his head and changed his life. "Frank, I didn't think you'd be alive long enough to get them."
Describe or write a really angsty scene!
how about matt comes back aftermath
“You’re not going to make me choose?” Kate’s voice slips out of neutral, into something like hope. Not the kind of thing she’d ever thought Frank would be suggesting, but--
“I’m not gonna make you choose, no.” He smiles at her, a wrong kind of smile, and turns slowly, heading towards the door. His hand is on the knob before her brain processes this enough to send words to her mouth.
“Where—what are you doing, Frank?”
He doesn’t face her. “I’m leaving.”
“You’re—leaving.” The words feel strange, they sour in her mouth and panic wraps brittle fingers around her throat, choking her. “Why—are you leaving?”
“I just said, Spook. Not gonna make you pick.”
Realization and rage burn through her, bright and quick. “So you’re leaving? You’re not making me choose because you’re doing the choosing for me?”
“That’s what you want.”
“No it’s not! Stop making decisions for me! I don’t—I don’t know what I want, yeah, but I know what I don’t want!”
“You told me you still love him. Best thing is for me to go.” He says it with no inflection, as if he wasn’t ripping Kate’s heart out and his too.
“No, I don’t want you to leave! You leaving is the opposite of what I want because what I want--” her voice breaks. “Is for you to stay. I don’t know what to do, but I don’t want you to leave, Frank. I love him, but he left me. He hurt me. And I love you, too. And I like you, which is more important, sometimes, and you helped me when I couldn’t find myself, you just—you let me be, you let me be angry and ugly and awful and you didn’t make me apologize for it or feel sorry about it, or guilty. And I owe you for that—that’s not why I want you to stay, but if you do stay because of it—god, that’s bad, right?” She takes a shaky breath. “Frank. Please stay. I want you to stay.”
Talk about a headcanon you’ve never talked about before.
Frank poses as Kate’s bodyguard when she’s Kate Bishop, heiress who doesn’t know self defense. They were at a party and Kate’s sister Susan was like “huh, you look a lot like mass murderer frank castle, there, pal.”
and of course frank says no he’s not he gets that a lot, and Susan gets right up close to him and says “i don’t care who you are, i just see how my little sister looks at you, and if you break her heart like the last guy did i will litigate your ass into the ground, sir. the GROUND”
also, like, an entire 1920s mafia au where derek is the man behind frank’s family being killed (which is why frank is working for him) and he’s kate’s bodyguard and he covers for her sneaking out and kicking ass
What does a typical date look like for them?
not to be basic but walking dogs and drinking coffee together. stopping a drug deal along the way. going to a shooting range. 
What’s a really significant moment in their relationship?
Frank gets roped into being Kate’s backup on a SHIELD mission. Frank takes a shot at the target and Kate’s pissed because she was supposed to take the shot, and it’s this whole thing. About Kate being angry that Frank could have been made and Frank being angry that Kate wouldn’t take the shot, putting herself in danger, and both of them are just PISSED until they realize that both of them are just AFRAID and FRANTIC. they’re both just like “what would I do if something happened to you?? huh???
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avoutput · 3 years
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Bimmy & Jimmy Lee || Double Dragon
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One million weekends ago, before I was a teenager, before the word tween existed, I had a problem to solve. There was a saying, “You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your friend’s parents.” These parents paid attention to sugar content, video game violence, prohibited “The Simpsons”, and had eagle eye focus on movie ratings. Before Netflix, the casual weekend sleepover consisted of a trip to pick up some pizza and make a stop at the Blockbuster. Over the years, I had curated a list of films that would make it past the prying eyes of helicopter parents. Now, if you have seen Double Dragon, you might be thinking that this movie is tame and lacks substance, but there was nothing like seeing Power Ranger style fight scenes, the man behind the Terminator 2’s T1000, massive explosions, Blade Runner’s Los Angeles, and finally Alysa Millano in a crazy getup that made her look absolutely thicc. But alas, this film was PG-13! Luckily, it could be found in the children's section, which was just enough lubrication to pass right through the parental units security system. And now, watching this with a critical eye as an adult, it really went above and beyond to give you a top notch fantasy that most other films in this line never imagined. It is with mad respect that I say, Double Dragon is a bomb ass kids film.
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This movie is nothing like the video game. The story of the original game was very simple. You are brothers, Billy aka Bimmy and Jimmy Lee. Billy’s girlfriend Marion is kidnapped by the Black Warriors, a street gang. The brothers Lee fight through Neo New York to get her back. The movie is bonkers by comparison. What it lacks in preservation, it makes up for with sheer imagination. The premise of the film is completely rooted in this neo Los Angeles (New Angeles in the film) that mirrors a quirkier version of Blade Runner’s LA. The film lives and breathes in all these little details that are totally clunky and you might even say unnecessary, but this film is a soup, one little thing missing and it might not make a huge difference, but together they make an umami broth. The deepest aspect of this stew is the constant earthquakes that plague New Angeles and which also presumably sank Hollywood to the point that they have boat tours of old institutions like the top of Mann’s Chinese Theater, left cresting just above the water. Everywhere they go there are these building stabilizers that need to be pumped to keep the roof over their head, which may or may not be real science. All of the cars rely on fuel made up of garbage that you can grab right off the refuse filled streets. These details can be easily overlooked and undervalued, but it creates a great deal of the flavor for the film. They make up for the flimsy plot and the child-directed acting. They surround the meat of a normal film and make it into something you can really chew on.
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As for the construction and delivery, we might have on our hands here a film that has the most kid movie tropes in a single film. Ever. I tried to write a list, but it seemed endless, and all of them are used on the fly while moving the story forward. For instance:
Infiltrating the bad guys office through the AC trope
Trying to steal something off the bad guys desk from above through the AC grate trope
Falling through the ceiling when caught trope
Turbine fan sucking people in trope
And that's just the progression of a single scene. People slip on gumballs in the middle of a fight for god’s sake! Tropes propagate in every corner of the film. You could even make a drinking game out of one. The brothers do this celebratory handshake where they make a fist with one hand and an open palm with the other and punch into each other. Every time the brothers Lee do their childish handshake, take a shot. You will be way more drunk in the back half, by then it gets pretty intense. I wish I could accurately describe the saturation of kids entertainment nonsense that propels this movie, but suffice it to say, it has it all.
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This certainly wasn’t the most compelling children's film of the time, Disney was right in the middle of its animated renaissance and was consistently acclaimed. Live action, low budget kids films were a dime a dozen as well, and most of them were pretty awful. But when it comes down to it, Double Dragon has a consistent, cohesive vision glued together by a living, breathing, cheesy world. It's all in the little details. Like replacing payphones with oxygen stations and having two businessmen fight over it. And like all kids films, they leave the kids feeling empowered. The police are too scared to go out at night to fight the gangs, so a group of teens and tweens called “The Power Corps” decide to take back the streets. Now, what this actually looks like is a little unclear, but they do try to teach kids that corporations are generally the root of all evil, revealing that the corporations own the gangs and pay them to keep people scared. That too is a 90’s kids trope. It was always street gangs and corporate big wigs.
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The action and setpieces are campy, or maybe you would just call it corny, and they could have been a little better in some places, but most of the time they are satisfying. This film famously set a Cleveland river on fire and created a giant explosion that had actual citizens calling emergency services. The costumes were the envy of young tweens yearning to hang out at a locker between classes for the first time. You would never find those threads in the store, but you had this feeling that there was some secret store in the mall that only kids 13 and up could find. If you pay attention to all the extras, you will notice absolutely zero consistency in their clothing choices. Sometimes the bad guys are dressed both like clowns and librarians in the same scene. On the other hand, the cool kids in the film have an amazing secret base that the adults don’t have access to, it's truly like bringing to life the feeling of playing at the McDonalds playplace. Double Dragon delivers a feeling more than anything. Maybe it is a feeling kids today can’t even imbibe, their world seems so different, but I think even without the context of the game, this would still make a good late night movie at any sleepover.
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Finally, on the fan service front, because there is so little preservation, you aren’t going to find very much unless you are hardcore fan. Alyssa Milano’s character is named Marion, the name of Billy’s kidnapped girlfriend in the game. At one point, the gang runs into the Double Dragon arcade cabinet. Abobo makes a very strange appearance in a grotesque getup that you will wish you could forget. If there was much more than this, I really couldn’t put my finger on it. Everything else is probably too small or trivial.
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When it comes to making a video game film, this leaned much more heavily on the originality side than preservation, but it had a sturdy construction and delivery that more than makes up for its lack of fan service. Looking through the list of other live action Hollywood films, it’s looking like it will be the last film to balance with this formula, even though this is only the second film in this series. I think the single minded focus on being a fun kids film outweighs its need to mimic the game, which was honestly fine for me then and now. They could have made a rated R version of this that took the whole thing seriously, and that might have fared better, but it's really hard to say. Sci-Fi adult action films of the time were very hit or miss. Back then, video games were for kids, despite their stories and presentation being mature, so this was probably the only way to get the film off the ground. I won’t claim that Double Dragon is the best kids action film of its day, but it definitely has more kids action film in it than any other kids action film. If you weigh the film against something like Titanic, it's going to sink, but put it in the ring punching at its own weight, it's going to be a contender. Two fist pumps way up.
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The Devil You Know: Part One (of 4)
Summary: A follow up to Mischief and the Maiden , Loki interferes with Elaina in the best ways. Contains both silliness and smut, consider yourself warned on both counts.
Author’s Note:  I’m tagging those who took the time to write kind comments on my last work because they were awesome enough to do so and that’s what really encouraged me to write this one. I would’ve responded to each of them, but I can’t do so as THIS blog and it seems weird to do so as my completely unrelated main blog. Anyway, thank you!!
Should Tumblr Implode: I’m also here at : https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_heart_in_his_teeth/works
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The party droned on for what felt like days.
Her tolerance for this amount of people had peaked and fallen so long ago that she couldn’t even remember when she began feeling plastic, nodding and smiling her way through conversations she couldn’t care less about with people she barely knew. Every time she escaped from one cluster of people, she was shepherded into another.
She had gotten comfortable with being uncomfortable in crowds, but this one was wearing her thin. The men all a matching set in tailcoats and ties, slicked back hair and martinis while the women shimmered in sequined dresses, jewels sparkling off their arms and spilling down their necks in long strings- even glittering from the feather adornments in their bobbed hair.
She was suddenly very aware of how underdressed she was. Glancing down at her faded black lounge pants and thin t-shirt which was altered so that it was missing the sleeves and open at the sides, allowing a view of her lace bralette beneath it, she crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously and backed away, almost bumping into an enormous champagne fountain.
“Jesus!” She gasped, looking up at the towering monstrosity flowing the fizzy drink down from a giant bottle a couple of hundred glasses up. The opulence of the people mirrored the endless ballroom they were in; so much gold on the white clothed tables and the sconces, while giant crystal chandeliers twinkled from above. She felt like an extra in The Great Gatsby.
Or The Shining.
Honestly, she didn’t care which as long as she could find the exit to the place. She excused herself awkwardly, dodging protesting arms and walking with purpose toward the other side of the vast room where she hoped the door was. Finally, she spotted a large archway above the growing sea of people, but her relief was short lived when she saw another lavish hall beyond it.
Her frustration fueled her and she pushed on. At last she saw a great, gilded double door at the top of an impossibly grand staircase. She walked faster, no longer caring how frantic she looked. She would make her apologies to...whoever tomorrow. Why couldn’t she remember whose party this was? And why had she agreed to come? She could figure that out tomorrow as well, for now all she cared about was the freedom just a hundred stairs away.
A hand lightly touched her shoulder and she glanced behind her to see the gentle, smiling face of Patrick Stewart. Suddenly it hit her, it was HIS party. She couldn’t have said no to Patrick Stewart, of course. Seeing that he was wearing his Star Trek uniform made her regret her outfit even more.
“Elaina! “ He said in his lovely British voice. “I’m so happy you were able to come. You did bring the artifact of course. I thought we could pass it around while you give the eulogy.”
She hadn’t remembered any artifact and had somehow not realized she was meant to give a eulogy or even who it was for. “ I....” she stammered. “I just need to get it from my car. She lied. She lied to PStew! But she urgently needed to be outside. Being outside would surely clear her head.
“Excellent!” He held her hand. His skin was very soft. “I cannot wait to hear of how you acquired this one. It is simply fascinating to me how you have been able to find all of these wonderful treasures. You must truly have a gift”
“Oh, I’m just very lucky.” She clasped her hand over his and wished she could remember how their friendship came to be, but her brain seemed to be shrinking into confusion by the second and she could only hope that no one noticed.
She knew she had to pretend everything was fine until she could figure this out, but she hoped he would understand if she ended up running away into the night screaming instead of giving a speech she hadn’t prepared to a crowd of what had to be hundreds of people. “You’ll just have to excuse me, while I pop outside to get it...”
“Of course!” He beamed. “Ah, but first I would love to introduce you to some friends of mine.” He nodded over her shoulder and she turned to see Benedict Cumberbatch walking up to them, a meek Martin Freeman on his arm looking adoringly up at his face.
A brief, but fierce, battle waged inside her before she firmly but politely said no and excused herself again. If she delved into whatever that was about, she knew she would never leave. She continued up the stairs that seemed to increase in number the closer she got to the top, running now, she pushed herself faster until finally she pushed the heavy door open and bolted outside, not stopping until she got to the street.
The cool night air felt good on her skin and now she focused on getting home. She didn’t remember if she’d brought her car. Wait...that’s right, she didn’t even OWN a car. Ahead, she saw a bus stop. Good enough. After sitting on the bench for a second, she realized that she had no clue where she was. Was it New York? It felt too foreign. She traveled so often now it was hard to keep up. Hopefully the bus driver could help her.
As soon as she had that thought she saw headlights in the distance. They were moving strangely, instead of steady and straight they sort of hopped. The reason for that was revealed when the thing came into view. It was a Catbus. It’s eyes were the headlights and when it stopped, the orange furry doors opened to reveal the soft seats inside of its body.
Elaina hesitated and the cat’s Cheshire smiling face turned towards her. She knew her Ghibli and that this bus could take her anywhere, but she thought better of it. “Uh, that’s okay. Nevermind. ” She told it. “I think I'll walk.” The Catbus meowed indifferently and continued on its way.
“Well now that,” A velvet voice spoke from beside her. “Was truly...special.”
She looked up at the figure that had stepped into view beside her. Pale and perfect with dark hair combed back and curling up slightly just above his shoulders. His eyebrows were raised toward the direction of the Catbus.
“I know someone who travels by cat- albeit in a comparatively mundane fashion.... ” He trailed off, then turned to her with a warm smile that reached his eyes and crinkled them at the corners. “Hello, Elaina.”
“Loki.” She said softly. Recognition was like a balm for her troubled head, soothing her back to her senses and lifting her heart in an instant.
She wanted to ask him if he was really there and not just another part of her yearning, stress- drunk subconscious, but she’d asked him that often enough over the years to know that he would never give her a straight answer. Even if he did, she could never really believe it.
“You know,” her own smile spread across her face. “When you said I’d dream about you, I thought the dreams would be more....”
“Enjoyable?” He turned to the grim, gray, building she’d just fled. It had not a single window and was so tall that the top of it disappeared into the night clouds. “But, come now.” He waved his hand toward it and the city street they stood on and shook his head. “You know this is not me.”
“No.” She sighed. “This is the sort of thing my asshole brain comes up with.”
“Well then, let’s slip into someplace a bit more comfortable.”
With that he took her by the shoulders and spun her around to face a couple of matching red, plush couches divided by a black lacquered coffee table inlaid with mother of pearl garden scene. A beautiful Persian rug sat on top of the hardwood floors of the seating area and photographs in various sized frames tastefully covered deep blue walls, dimly lit by the lights that ran along the ceiling.
I guess it doesn’t get much more comfortable than my own house, she thought. She had taken care to fill her home with things that had a story or meaning that was in some way personal to her so that whenever she returned to it after a long journey she would be wrapped in the stable familiarity of it all. Her home was very much her sanctuary.
“This wasn’t here before.” Loki was peering at the Klimt painting above the fireplace. “Who are these people?”
It was an unusual sight- he clad in a black high collared shirt, open at the neck in the shape of a V and over that a strange sort of jacket made of interwoven black leather and green cloth that reached down to his boots. Though not wearing a crown, he still looked every bit a mythological prince standing so casually in her in her living room.
“Umm, well I’m not sure actually.” She wondered if it had registered to him that it had been two years since he was last here. “It was painted about a hundred years before I was born. The image has very much has resonated with me lately. I even have this weird connection to the artist.”
“I see. And what “weird” connection do you have to a presumably dead artist?”
“Oh, I found an old portfolio of his sketches hidden in the pages of this coffee big table art book that my grandmother had.” She studied his profile carefully as she spoke looking for any reaction. “I mean, they were stamped with his signature and everything. It was a nearly impossible find, but quickly authenticated. “
His lips twitched upwards and he kept his eyes on the painting. “Hmm. How lucky.”
“Uh-huh. I’ve come into quite a bit of such “luck” over the last few years. ...since meeting you actually.” She added pointedly. “You know, I’ll buy a doll at a flea market in France that will turn out to be an antique Bisque or I’ll find a used book from a tiny shop in Italy that ends being a first edition Yeats- things like that.”
“Those things sound like they are probably very valuable to Midgardians.” He shrugged. “One should hope you were able to find some use for them.””
She clasped her hands in front of her and smiled knowingly at the floor. “And to think some guys just buy a girl flowers.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. This painting,” he said, changing the subject. “What about it so captured your attention, I wonder?”
“Well, it’s called ’Love’- did...did you just roll your eyes?”
His mouth smoothed out of its grin quickly. “Not at all.”
Each time he’d come to her, no matter how much time had passed, there wasn’t the awkwardness that often happens when lovers meet again. No pretending to be indifferent to their own feelings, no worrying how they might seem to each other or wondering where things might go this time. Everything seemed just as it had been that first night together, in a cabin that wasn’t really a cabin in a realm far, far away. For her part, she had no delusions about what may come of the time they spent together, she was just glad for it.
She paused to contemplate the couple frozen in the painting, forever locked in an embrace that would outlive them. The woman’s hand gripped at the man, her head upturned, eyes closed in anticipation of a kiss that would never come. Or perhaps the kiss was done and the embrace was at its end.
The man’s eyes were closed as well, but she thought he had a melancholy look to him. It seemed he could either be coming or going from her. There seemed to be a silent battle raging within each of them while a host of spirits looked on, perhaps amused at their fate.
“Does she love him?” He asked, circling behind her.
“Yes, that I’m certain of.”
“And do you think that wise?” His mouth was at her ear.
Without hesitation she answered. “No.”
His hand wrapped over hers and he led her to one of the couches, pulling her down into his lap as he sat. She could smell the leather of his clothes and beneath that the familiar heady scent of his skin. “Correct.” His fingers traced down her jawline stopping at her chin. “Sentimentality often leads to foolish choices.”
His eyes rested on her lips thoughtfully for a moment before he deftly took her face in his hands and kissed her, his mouth cool on hers. Her eyes fluttered shut and her hand wrapped around the nape of his neck, fingers disappearing into the softness of his hair.
For a blissful moment there was nothing else in the world but that kiss, then he gently pulled back, gazing at her with contented green eyes. “You have been in love, Elaina.” His elbow folded on the back of the couch, his curled fist providing a rest for his head. “I needn’t warn you of that gnawing thing within your heart that has you so vexed.”
She felt her cheeks redden. It didn’t surprise her that he knew of her life, she sometimes comforted herself with the idea that he was maybe looking in at her from his castle in a magical floating city, but other times she rather hoped he wasn’t. Like the last year.
“We don’t get to choose about falling in love. It just happens.” She could hear the regret in her own voice and hated it. “At least that’s how it is for we Midgardians.”
“It’s all about control, my dear.” His hand rested on her hip. “There’s always something you can control even within the uncontrollable. If you feel an overpowering emotion, you can channel that power into something more...beneficial.”
“Such as?”
“Anything. A more personal passion. Art. Music. Jogging? Is that what it’s called? When you run pointlessly long and slow to get to nowhere? The point is that you can bask in the pleasurable aspect of the feeling, but assign the power of the chaos such a strong emotion creates to something else.” He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “That way your mind can remain clear and no one unworthy will have power over you.”
She clasped his hand against her cheek and closed her eyes. There had been a man she had loved who was everything she wasn’t. Gregarious, charming, and successful, he just always seemed to have it together with never a hair out of place. Even his condo was constantly immaculate. He also was painfully gorgeous. And he actually loved her. Until he inexplicably didn’t.
She winced at the memory.
“I think you over- estimate my worth.” She said quietly.
He clicked his tongue and looked almost offended. “I do no such thing.” He said sharply. “You would do well to remember that. Tell me, who is this man would make you feel beneath him- you who has known the touch and favor of a god?”
“I don’t-I know I’m not beneath him...” she was flustered and now embarrassed. Having been the lover of the God of Mischief was one hell of a confidence boost, but she was never going to have the conceit that might have earned her. She doubted Loki could understand what it was like to be set aside by someone you cherished, to have to question what about you had made them decide you were not what they wanted.
“Perhaps,” he half smiled and traced his fingers over the patterns of lace on the sides of her bralette “You need a reminder.”
She held her breath, remembering every bit of what his masterful touch could do to her. There was a playful spark in his eyes for a just a moment before he kissed her again, this time firmly but briefly, then brought her hand to his lips and planted a kiss there as well.
“Soon.” He said with a wink and before she could question what he meant his face had dissolved into an unpleasant glow of light.
~~~
@roonyxx @carydorse @quoting-shakespeare-to-ducks @starscreamloki  @glitt3rgaz3 @annievvv7 @holykryptonitekitten @silver-tongue-trickster
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27 March 2021
after two instances, I’ve learned that I can hardly handle any compliments from [001] anymore. I used to yearn from them. to revel from his pride, his approval, his love in any form. but now, since he pushed my romance aside for good, they just feel... distasteful, in a way. i can’t put my finger on it. i know he’s not being ingenuine, but it’s like... it’s hard to be admired by him to any extent when everything just happened. when he just told me that he cannot admire me romantically, casting aside how i feel about him and how hard i had been trying and everything we had been through. sentiments like “you look nice” and “that was well said” just feel like a stab to the heart. because there’s nothing behind those words anymore. when he meant—means?—everything to me.
i’m having trouble determining whether i should use past or present tense to refer to my feelings for [001]. he was very insistent that i lose all romantic feelings for him—classic edward cullen. but my brain has been so... toyed with, that it hardly knows what to do. it’s like, obviously i still love him, because that’s who i am: i don’t stop loving someone, and i told [001] that. i still love [002], in a way that you do for your first love, even though he was a piece of shit to me. i definitely still love [003], but i also definitely don’t want to get back together with him. it’s not that kind of love anymore. but [001] is different. i felt stronger for him than i did for [002] or [003], which is ridiculous because we hardly even officially dated and it hasn’t been very long. i suppose affection doesn’t work on those parameters, though. but he doesn’t feel that way about me. i don’t know if he could, but his relationship scars and other personal matters are interfering? or if i’m simply not worth it to him. i hate to say it, but i more just feel like an object that he used for comfort and got attached to. and now he sees someone else on the playground trying to pick up his toy after he put it down and is getting upset. but i’m not a toy that can be picked up and put down at his liking. i told him that, once he gets his personal stuff figured out, i would like it if he’d let me know if he ever was at the point where he wanted to be with me. but, like i said yesterday, I asked a couple of times and never received and answer. which was pretty upsetting, after everything that happened. i’ll come back to this later.
our friends were really supportive when [001] broke things off with me. i appreciated that. but [004] kind of just, fueled the fire of my anxiety. she would ask things like, “maybe he just lost feelings and doesn’t want to tell you?” and that only made me feel worse, because i didn’t think that was what had happened, but now i had to be sure. so i asked: per usual, it’s hard to get a straight answer out of [001] about how he feels, but verdict seemed to be that he’s trying to make himself lose feelings for me because it’s not fair to only have them sometimes and because he isn’t ready for a relationship and because he’s already hurt me so much. but it’s so hard. he gets jealous over [005], and i can’t always help that. [001] has a hard time trusting people, but talks about wanting that type of connection, and i so badly wanted to be the one to show him what positive love and affection and relationships looked like. i wanted to help take care of him. i still do. if he came to me and said he was ready to be in a relationship, i’d be with him. but i know that’s not going to happen yet. he says it’s not going to happen for a long time, but i think that’s maybe because he feels trapped in his own mindset, and he’s made so little progress on the subject with his therapist. i hope things go better with a new therapist. he’s going to start taking anti-anxiety medication soon, and i think that will help. i know it helped me get out of feeling so utterly hopeless all the time. hopefully, he’ll be able to see a clearer path once his thoughts are more manageable. i’m also hoping that, once he starts making some progress, he’ll see that it’s not as hard to reach his goals as he thought it was. and maybe we can be together at some point. maybe he’ll keep me romantically shut out.
regardless, i hope he gets better. and, regardless, i’m trying to move on. i’m being patient with myself about getting over my feelings for him, because it’s only been a couple of days. being around him last night wasn’t horrible, but still kind of tough. there are a lot of smaller mannerisms that he does that i really love that I just... can’t anymore. the way he laughs, which comes out more like a giggle. i think it’s the cutest. it’s a good thing we were watching television, because i think i’d die if i saw the way he sticks his tongue out the right side of his mouth when he’s concentrating on a video game. he wore the brown flannel that i like, but left it on the hook at the door. and the way he whistled to the theme of the television show. i can’t whistle well. i stayed at [005]’s house last night. we stayed up until around 2:00 am watching the crown while he studied for an exam that he had at 8:00 am this morning. [006] slept on the other couch in the room, so i wasn’t quite alone. i stayed up for a while after that, writing yesterday’s entry. 
i talked with [001] today about how it’s hard to face the nights alone. we always used to be together at night: either on the couch at [005] and [006]’s house, or on a night-long phone call together. that meant a lot to me. i’m pretty sure [001] had a history of calling his girlfriends at night; i wasn’t necessarily unique in that regard. but i had never done that. [002] rarely wanted to call me. [003] and i called on discord sometimes, but not as often as we should have, honestly, to maintain a good relationship. which is ironic, because both of those were long-distance relationships, whereas [001] is here. he is just a block away, and yet, we always called and spent the night together over the phone. it meant a lot to me, that he cared to do that. it meant, “i love you.” which is why it’s so hard to even consider carrying on with those phone calls when he’s forcing me to move on from him. i know it’s not his intention, but it feels like a punch to the gut, that i’m being offered one of the sweetest parts of our relationship, but without any meaning behind it. or maybe there is meaning: he’s said that, it’s not that he lost feelings for me, but that he can’t allow himself to feel anything for me right now because it’s not fair to me or himself while he’s still healing from his romantic wounds. so, i guess, he’s offering the calls and we both know that there can’t be any meaning behind it. that hurts, too.
[001] subscribes to the phrase “all or nothing.” he feels that he’s being presented with an ultimatum because, even as he’s cut things off and pushed me out, i’m also setting boundaries to take care of myself: like with the phone calls. i told him that we can’t call, or do things like that (because of how much it means to me, to both of us) until he truly means it. because i can’t let things like that mess with my brain and confuse me anymore. and, as mentioned previously, i also told him that i wish he would tell me if he is ever at the point where he is ready to date and wishes to be with me. but, as i have said, no reply. i think that hurts because i can’t tell if i’m a motivating factor for him. it doesn’t feel like i am. like, i know some part of him cares about me romantically, and i wish that would drive him to want to get better. so we could be together and happy, like i was trying so hard to help with. but he pushed me away, insisting that he has to do it on his own. and i guess i understand that, as much as it hurts. but, after all the times i asked “do you ever see us together?” or “do you want to be with me, once you’re better?” i feel like i never got a positive response, or an answer at all. which feels so contradictory with how he said he felt about me, even if that feeling sometimes fluctuated because he’s still in the process of healing. i think that, even when i’m hurt, i can still look toward to what i would ideally want. but, from what he told me, that wasn’t me. he always said “no” or gave no answer. and i wish it were me, because i was so in love with him. and still am, i guess, but it’s more numb now. because it has to be.
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sweetestlamb · 3 years
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Make Me Crescendo
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Summary: Song-ah ponders if there is truly any space left in Joon Young's life for her. Joon Young shows her exactly where her place is.
Author's Note: I didn't expect to enjoy this show as much as I do honestly, I love the dynamic and chemistry between the leads. Most of the other characters could choke for all I care, but I love Song-ah and Joonie, they are goals and they deserve to just run away and be happy. Anyway, I was inspired so this happened. (Please don't leave comments asking about when I'll write more, I'll do it when I can and when I'm inspired for all of my stories. If you are going to leave a comment, you can tell me what you liked or what I could do better, appreciate that more!) Happy reading, please ignore all my lame music puns! 😂😈 
Music filters through the doors as she watches on her heart thumping erratically, a metronome expelling the staccatos of her fear. The gaggle of female students outside the door white noise in the background, their coos and awes stabbing her paper thin heart that is wavering in her chest.
They sound so good together!
Omg, don't they look perfect?
I think they would be a much better couple!
Taking a step back her violin bangs into the wall suddenly alerting them to her presence, her eyes dart wildly like a cornered animal as they look at her with pity and sneering apologetic eyes as if saying: you brought this on yourself, how could you ever think you could have him?
With a wet gasp, she scurries off avoiding their looks clutching her hands tightly as she bursts through the doors. The cool Spring air whips her hair around her face temporarily blocking her face from onlookers, the moisture on her cheeks causes strands to stick before she pushes them back.
Seeing them play in such perfect harmony has only cemented the doubts that already fill her mind, how can see ever measure how to Jung-kyung? A woman that he has not only loved for years but who also plays her instrument far better than she ever will? If she is meant to be a replacement, she stands no chance; they are worlds apart maybe it's time she accepted that.
I'll cherish our moments today, it was an honor.
She knows what she has to do, her heart whines but she blinks away her tears. He deserves better.
His missed calls and messages taunt her as she peers down despondently at her phone, she hasn't been able to bring herself to sever their bond. Every time she starts to type out a message to set him free, his smile flashes in her mind and she's rendered comatose. Instead flinging the cursed object far away and punishing her fingers as shrill notes screech from her violin.
Avoiding him isn't as simple as she'd hoped with everyone knowing about their ill-fated relationship and constantly inquiring about his whereabouts, it becomes sickening obvious that most "friends" who approach her with their shrieking calls of "unnie" could care less about her and are instead hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
As soon as they realized he was absent and had no plans of suddenly materializing, they bombarded her with excuses of why they needed to take their leave, immediately. She vaguely wondered if they cared at all about how little they made her feel, their treatment further emphasizing how insignificant others viewed her.
She was always disposable to others. She didn't even have a best friend to turn to for advice, someone else who has decided that she simply wasn't worth the trouble of staying and fighting.
Nobody had ever deigned her worthy of fighting for.
With a forlorn sigh, she grips her purse tighter better climbing the stairs to the school entrance. She only has one class to get through today, before she could escape to her room and ruminate on how to inform Joon-young that she couldn't do this anymore.
Arriving a few minutes early to class, she takes her seat closer to her front away from the gossiping girls who had been waving her over. She had no desire to listen to their backhanded comments on her lack of talent or unbelievable relationship, their words only added fuel to the vicious thoughts already cycling in her brain.
Pretending not to hear them beckoning her over, she looks at the professor with more focus than she's currently capable of, turning a blind eye to her surroundings.
Time crawls by like molasses poured from a jar, before the professor dismisses the class causing students to bolt from their seats, she being one of the first. He typically waits for her after this class and she has very little time to flee without him catching her, ignoring the calls of her name once more she takes her leave, violin thumping a dull pain on her back.
Cracking the door open she peeks outside, a sliver of her head breaching the opening, a sigh of relief falling from her lips when she meets a vacant spot. Stepping out further she glances around, but he is nowhere to be seen, the hallways empty besides students trekking to their next classes.
Her chest aches traitorously but she internally berates herself, this is good I don't want to see him, her heart ripples at the lie, refusing to engage in this façade that she's forcing. Clutching at her chest she takes one trembling step, then another before finding her resolve and racing to the door.
So close, almost there, come on.
Hand reaching for the handle, she twists it pushing it open seconds away from freedom.
"Song-ah!" Her skin prickles from his deep baritone, his tone wrapping her in a honeyed cocoon. She hesitates, fingers twitching on the cold smooth metal.
"Song-ah, wait!" The desperation in his voice halts her escape, unable to abandon him when his voice reveals so much about how he's feeling. She loathes the mere concept of being someone who hurts him.
Reinforcing her now wavering resolve she slowly spins around, their eyes meeting in a clash, his own shining brightly as he peers into her soul. Her breath hitches as she watches him step closer to her, suddenly there isn't enough oxygen in the room, her lungs wheeze at the atmospheric change.
His beautiful hands gradually elevate, millimeters from her skin, as he begs for permission with his smoldering dark eyes.
She almost accepts defeat, before Jung-kyung's smug sour face flashes in her mind. Dousing her with icy cold realization, they just aren't meant to be.
She draws away from his searching fingers, stepping just out of his reach.
Hurt blazes across his handsome face, hardening in his eyes.
"Why have you been ignoring my calls and messages?"
He goes straight for the jugular, not pussyfooting around the elephant in the room.
"I've been busy practicing." She responds weakly, recoiling under his hard glint.
He steps forward once more, instinctively she retreats, the demure mouse to his assertive cat.
He sighs, stepping back his shoulder sagging in disappointment.
"What's wrong? Why won't you even let me come close to you? Why are you ignoring me?"
This is the moment, the one she's been yearning and waiting for, the perfect opportunity to put this sham to an end. Her mouth opens and closes as she pushes herself to be courageous for once, do the right thing and put both of them out of their misery.
You look better with her. I don't deserve you. I'm not good enough. Not strong enough. Leave. Leave me.
Please.
But, she can't. Can't get her mouth to say any of those truths. Fear and heartbreak render her immobile and cowardice takes center stage instead, ready for its solo.
"I...I...." He looks at her with warm eyes, pleading with her to finish her sentence, hope settled in the lines of his skin.
"I have to go."
"Song-ah!"
Her breath doesn't return until she's shaking on her seat at the bus stop. He hadn't chased her. Maybe he had just learned that she wasn't worthy the trouble.
Her days lapse by as she moves through life resembling a zombie, obsessively looking at her phone only to feel her heart fracture each time no notifications await her hungry eyes.
She goes to class as normal, no longer having to avoid her classmates as they have moved on to something more entertaining than her relationship. Their piteous looks make her skin crawl, her fight with Joon-young the talk of the town. Now they can freely gossip about her and how they knew it would never last, the pure glee on their faces is grotesque.
She sees him in passing in the hallway but he keeps his distance, never maintaining eye contact for too long. She's getting exactly what she wanted. Yet she feels sick to her stomach, her skin clammy and cool.
The irony isn't lost on her, how appropriate that this would be the one thing she's able to do successfully. Ruin her own life and sabotage her own happiness.
There are nights when her control falters and she stares at the illuminated screen of her phone, writing a message only to erase it with a sigh before crashing into her mattress. Her limps are heavy and uncoordinated as she flails upon the surface.
"Why does this have to be so hard?" Her question goes unanswered in the stillness of the night, as she ultimately falls into a fitful slumber.
Finally pulling herself together after days of quiet anguish, she goes back to her mission to find an accompanist.
She closes her phone as she says her final good byes to the team leader, thanking her for allowing her to use the rehearsal room in the Kyungoo building.
The winds blows the wispy ends of her skirt, dragging the material across the smooth skin of her knee. Subconsciously she tugs at the material, its a bit shorter than her usual ensemble she'd ordered it online not expecting it to hit inches above her knee. It seemed longer in the photos. 
A voice shouting her name drags her from her self-conscious inklings, as she spins around to see her potential accompanist.
A welcoming smile tugs her lips up, dimples sinking into her skin with familiarity.
Raising her hand in a small wave, bowing while calling out, "Hello! Nice to meet you, I'm Chae Song-ah, chae not choi, like the vegetable." Explaining before the inevitable questioning and confusion can sour their interaction with awkwardness. 
The sheepish grin informs her that she did the right thing, a hand is extended into her space and she grasps it in her own.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Park Min-jae." His warm smiles immediately puts her at ease. Together they enter the building amicable conversation flowing easily.
Hours pass as the music ricochets around the room, her bow light in her hands as she drags it across the strings, flabbergasted as harmonious sounds permeate the air. His fingers move in a flurry across black and white keys, shoulders bouncing in rhythmically as the song nears it end. Their last notes swirling around each other in a perfect crescendo.
"Wow, that was fun! You did great!" He breaks the silence, and his words leave her breathless.
She's been prepared for insults and sharpened words, his praise disorient her.
His wide grin leaves little room for argument so she merely nods, not quite believing him.
He starts to gather his belongings before turning to her, "I have to head out but I mean it, I think we sounded pretty good together. What do you think? Was I good enough for you?"
His innocent question plummets her into a sea of memories, his face at the forefront of her thoughts.
Shaking herself free she quietly replies, "Yes, it was good. You were good."
He lifts an eyebrow but says nothing else at her words.
"Okay, I'm free this weekend. Give me a call if you want to practice some more."
She nods finally collecting her own belongings, then turning off the lights and exiting the room.
The air is charged as the walk side by side and it's doesn't make sense until she turns the corner. Park Min-jae's excited voice never falters as she stands still, eyes locked on the new arrival.
Joon-young stands before her, eyes scouring her face before darting to the unknown man standing beside her. She watches his Adam's apple bob distractedly, as his eyes darken minutely.
"And I think we should..." Park Min-jae's voice peters off as he notices her unmoving figure before noticing that there is someone new. 
All three of them stand there wordlessly before park Min-jae cracks the uncomfortable silence.
"Hi, I'm Park Min-jae. A friend of Song-ah, nice to meet you." The and you are? lingers in the air.
Her brain stutters at the possibilities and she rushes to provide an answer.
"Oh! This is Joon-young, he's just a fri-"
"Her boyfriend." He extends a hand but his eyes never leave her face, she feels as if she's being challenged and she doesn't know how to respond.
"Nice to meet you! I didn't know you had a boyfriend, you should have let me know before flashing those pretty dimples at me." Park Min-jae's teasing smile unsettles her causing her to shift under his gaze, unbeknownst to her Joon-young's grip tightens ever so slightly in their handshake.
Suddenly her potential accompanist winces and jumps, apologetic look on his face before he retracts his hand to put them up in acquiesce.
"Sorry."
Joon-young looks at him, the seconds dragging before he nods looking away from again. Eyes for her only.
"Um..so I'll talk to you later? It was nice to meet you." Park Min-jae bows once more, glancing between them both before shaking his head and all but running away.
She feels pinned under his look and rubs her own arm simply to have something else to focus on. Feigning distraction, she looks at the ground; heart clattering frantically at his sudden appearance.
Mumbling under her breathe she finally speaks, "What are you doing here?"
She's completely unprepared for his hands to slide into hers with ease, her fingers curling around his before her brain can register what is occurring.
"Come with me." The please is unsaid but loud as a high C and she nods, helplessly following his lead as he drags her back into the rehearsal room.
The click of the door closing is harsh in the quiet of the room, as he stops in the center of the room. Large hand still wrapped around her own, his warmth drift into her brittle bones.
"Who was that?"
Glancing up at him from under dark lashes she swallows, "Park Min-jae, a pianist. I wanted to see if we could play together. My teacher recommended him."
Humming in response he stares her dead in her eyes, it takes every fiber of her being to maintain the contact.
"Why were you going to tell him I was just a friend?"
Sputtering, she chokes on nothing pulling her hand away to cover her mouth as small coughs escape.
Concern flashes on his face before it's driven away with anger.
She quivers under his hard stare, "I thought....I didn't know...we haven't spoken in days."
Pressing forward he invades her space, jaw tight.
"Do you think it's that easy?"
Mouth falling open in a perfect o, she looks at him in confusion. Lost at his meaning and wondering what is going through his mind, it's difficult to read his body language.
"What?"
"Do you think our relationship is that... trivial? Do you think a few days without conversing is all it takes to end it?"
Anger and hurt color the words as they fall from his lips and land like daggers in her stomach.
But he's not finished, not by a long shot.
"You can't just push me away and replace me with someone else!"
His cry echoes around the room and she stands in shock, contemplating picking her jaw up off the ground. When he says nothing more, simply pushes out harsh breaths and squeezes his fists by his side she finds her voice.
"What are you talking about? I'm not doing...that."
"Then what are you doing? You don't answer my calls or call me for days and now you're here with someone else, who flirts with you right in my face." She collapses guiltily. "How can you not have time for me? I'm your boyfriend, why can't you make space for me?"
Is there any room for me?
Like a wave, all her emotions and pain and insecurities and fears come surging out, his question the blow that broke the dam.
"You're the one who has no space for me. I saw you two that day, you looked like you fit. Two musical prodigies, it made sense. More sense than you and I. I can't do it, I can't pretend that I don't see everyone looking at us. Nobody understands why you'd want me. You should be with someone like her, she's from a good family and she plays the violin better than I'll ever--"
His hands latch onto her shaking shoulders, pushing her backwards until her violin collides with a click into the piano.
She whimpers as he gazes down at her, frustration streaming off him in waves.
"You don't understand how I could want you? I'll explain it, in detail. Listen closely because I don’t want to ever need to this again"
She gulps.
He swaggers closer, arms reaching over her shoulders to rest on the smooth surface of the piano. Brushing against her shoulder before gently gripping the straps of her violin, he removes them before placing the instrument carefully on the ground. Taking the weight from her shoulders.
His warm breath caresses her skin before he cups her face, hands tender on her hot cheeks. Air catches in her throat as she shyly looks up at him.
Almost instantly he smiles in return, dimples greeting her as his smile warms her to her core.
"I like how you make me smile, whenever I see you my heart feels at ease and I feel like everything will be okay. I like how you smile at me, you look prettiest when smiling at me."
Her cheeks flush from his compliments and she turns away embarrassed only to feel his sure fingers on the point of her chin, dragging her back into the penetrating line of his eyes; refusing to let her push him away again.
"I like how hard you work to be better, I like how you never stoop to others level you're kind to everyone despite how they treat you. I like your dimples, I always want to touch then. I like how you listen to me and want to hear about my life. I like that you don't treat me like I'm breakable and you tell me when you don't like something."
Then the air crackles as his hands smooth down her skin before settling on her neck, tugging her closer, she reaches out to grab his waist for balance.
"I like kissing you, I like how your lips feel on mine. I like how you open up for me. I like the little sounds you make."
Like a manifestation, a small shocked gasps tumbles from her lips and his eyes meander down to look at them in response. His own cheeks are scorching, red and flushed too but he doesn't seem like he has any intentions of stopping. Fearlessly pushing past his comfort zones.
Pulling her against his body now, his fingers twisted in the dark material of his button down shirt, he gazes at her adoration pouring from his eyes.
"I like you Song-ah. I like you so much. I don't want anyone else, there's space for you. In my heart there's so much space just for you."
He brushes her hair out of her face, his face open and vulnerable.
"Do you want it?"
Do you want me?
She looks at him as he awaits her answer and wonders what she ever did to deserve this? It seems too good to be true, she has never won anything in her life coming in last at everything that has counted. So how can this be true, how can she possibly deserve something has precious and valuable as his heart?
Smiling in defeat she nods at him, "I want you."
His joy is contagious as he grabs her, strong arms wrapping her in a warm embrace. She returns the hug, face smashed into the soft cotton of his shirt.
Slowly they draw away from each other, smiles not fading and then she catches his incessant gaze on her lips.
"Can I?"
Blushing she bites her lip nervously, tingling under his close appraisal. At the merest nod of her head he's on her, his lips crashing into her own as his hands tighten on their new location on her hips.
Tilting onto the tips of her toes she presses back, moaning as his tongue teases the seams of her closed mouth, her arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.
His taste explodes on her buds as his slick muscle swipes around her moist cavern, he delicately sucks on her tongue enticing her to join him in his explorations. She trips as she attempts to press even closer to him, breaking their deep embrace.
Embarrassed at her lack of grace and coordination she opens her mouth, apology on the tip of her tongue. Before his next move steals her breath.
Easy as pie, he grips tightens on her waist as he hoists her up until she's sitting on the edge of the grand piano.
Her blush is now painful as it rages on her exhausted cheeks.
He smiles at her, disarming her before he steps forward her new position bringing their lips in perfect proximity.
"You looks pretty when you blush too." He teases and she slaps his chest in reprimand but he catches the appendages, trapping them between their body as he descends on her mouth again.
Kisses deeper and slower this time, largo as their tongues roll and plunder. His hands stroke her hair, his fingers traipsing across the soft skin of neck. He suddenly grabs her hips dragging her across the smooth surface until their groins collide and she gasps loudly at the hardness that jabs into her.
They both bolt back, frenzied eyes meeting as they take in this moment.
She's never gone this far before, never even kissed anyone. He is the owner of so many of her first, it's terrifying.
Looking down she sees his straining erection, a long line tenting the satin smoothness of his dress paints. Blushing she forces her eyes from the tempting sight, to look at his face. Momentarily frozen under his look, first time seeing them set ablaze with desire. All for her. 
"Are you okay?" His voice rumbles making her skin pebble with anticipation.
Is she okay? She can't quite answer such a big question, her head spinning from everything that has happened. She feels like her skin is going to burst apart and he's the only thing keeping her together, both her destruction and her resurrection.
Wrapping her legs around his waist she boldly yanks him back into her orbit, kissing the question off his mouth. He stills for a moment before responding, devouring her mouth as she opens up for him, slick noises loud to her ears.
Her lips are raw and tender as they kiss making up for all their time apart, then she feels her world tilting as he presses her back onto the piano, lips still swallowing her own until her back meets the cool material and their lips disengage.
He looks at her, her body spread across the instrument like an offering. She feels naked under his gaze.
Then his eyes shift to her skirt, high on her thigh from her sprawled position and she starts to sit up but he's faster to react, catching the edge of her skirt and fingering the material that trails across her thigh.
After thick moments of silence, he gazes up at her slowly drawing her skirt up her thighs, the cool air rushes across her hot skin and she gasps and squirms under his steady hands.
He stops at her movement glancing at her, she bites her lip, opening her legs ever so slightly and that's all the answer that he needs. Tugging the material slowly, slowly, adagio up her skin pushing it over her hips and his groan causes wetness to pool between her legs, she looks away in shame.
He fingers at her stark white panties, she jumps at his first touch on the skin above her undergarment. Peering down to watch his eyes locked on her in awe, his long fingers running across her skin before he stops to tug at the cute little bow on the top of her underwear.
Eyes never leaving hers, he drags the thin material down pausing to give her a chance to stop him, one word from her and this will all come to an end she has no doubts.
Tacet.
He pulls the material down, down before dragging it off her feet and folding it neatly in a square before placing it on a chair to the side.
"Beautiful."
His eyes are smoldering on her skin as she eagerly awaiting his next move, equal parts excitement and anxiety.
Clutching her eyes shut she grips futilely for purchase, before he knocks the breath from her lungs with his first slow drag on her opening, his tongue swiping through the moisture dripping from her. A gasp is punched from her chest, as he licks at her again, deeper the second time almost slurping at her and she cries out from the foreign sensation, pleasure ravaging her body.
"Ah! Joon-young ah!"
He surges at her cry and subsequent proclamation of his name, nimble fingers soon joining his tongue and pushing knuckle deep into her wet bud playing her as expertly as his beloved piano, her whines and whimpers serving as music to his ears.
Using two fingers he pries her lips open, exposing her further to his hungry eyes and mouth. His tongue stiffen into a point he jabs into her drenched hole, collecting her sweet nectar as he swipes across her walls.
She pants loudly, grabbing his hair in warning as she feels a ball tightening in the pits of her stomach, another first as he thrusts into her over and over, her skin puckering up in anticipation.
"Please, I, I...."
As her body nears its crescendo, release blinding her as pleasure flashes blinding white, suddenly he pulls away, she whines from the emptiness crying out for him.
When she opens her eyes in a weak glare, she finds him bent over the piano his bangs sweaty as they stick to his forehead. Gathering herself she sits up, eyes widening in surprise and arousal when she sees his erection jutting from his own fly and his fist wrapped around the rigid ruddy flesh.
He'd been touching himself while tasting her. That had been enough to hurl him dangerously close to the edge. Something like pride bubbles in her chest.
Clamoring off the piano, her heels clicks when she lands on the floor and that catches his attention.
He looks up at her with dazed eyes, looking younger with his bangs skewed and messy, his lips shiny with her condensation.
Taking the lead she grasps his hands tugging him until he snaps out of his stupor, within two steps they reach the piano bench and he looks at it and then her, puzzled before she gently presses his shoulders and seats him on the bench.
It's his turn to gasp as she climbs into his lap, her face scarlet red as his erection brushes against her sacred flower.
"Are you sure?" He asks, using every last bit of control to keep his hips still even as his body aches to plunge into her wet hole, mere inches away the heat wafting off all too tempting.
"Yes." She watches as he grips himself by the base, rubbing the head through her juices and her head falls back from the sensation and then his tip is at her entrance and she holds her breath.
He reaches up to hold her face, forcing her to meet his eye, "Breathe." He commands and as she inhales he slides into her, breaching her tight opening with one long smooth thrust upwards.
Her arms tighten around the wide stretch of his shoulders as gravity drags her further down his impressive length, pain and pleasure warring for dominance.
"Just a minute." She pleads and instantly he stops, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she loosens around him. When she can breathe again, she lifts herself up before sliding back down pleasure knocking pain back on its ass.
Immediately she needs more, lifting up again before slamming down onto his hard cock, wet sounds echoing off the walls and at first he is motionless, simply letting himself be used by her. But then he grips her tight cheeks, using them as leverage as he plants his feet and viciously pistons into her, her shriek deafening in this room made for acoustics.
They crash into each other, as they chase their release, his fingers easily unbuttoning her shirt and pushing it off her skin before catching her pebbled nipples through the thin lace of her bra. Her soft breasts jiggle as she bounces in his lap, his hard length driving into her, over and over and over.
At a particularly brutal thrust of his hips, she loses her precarious balance and falls back, instantly he grips her waist slowing her descent and lessening the blow, her back crashes into the piano keys and jarring dissonance filling the air.
They both glance at each other before smiling, recalling their last mishap with the piano after their first kiss.
Her sprawled position on the piano opens her wider and without pause he thrusts up into her again, tugging her back to meet his movement.
Light flashes behind her eyelids as he fucks into her, the piano crying out underneath their onslaught. She's too close to care and his frenzied thrusts make it clear he's not far behind.
He pries her eyes open once more, before kissing her. The gentle press of his lips in complete opposition to the hard hits of his hips. 
"Please, come." He whispers, begging her and simultaneously informing her of his plans.
She feels every molecule in her body burst apart as she vibrates on the piano, walls tightening around his length as he struggles to thrust through the vicelike grip she has on him before a hot stream fills her up, sticky and leaking, and he melts under her his head falling onto her belly.
It feels..... weird. Not nearly as sexy as it's depicted in videos. But a piece of her is giddy to be so full of him, her blush permanently stained on her cheek at this point.
Gently he drags himself out of her, she shudders as she feels his release leaking out without him there to keep it in. When she glances down pearly white substance is smeared across the keys of the piano.
She immediately feels filthy, complete disbelief at what exactly they'd done and where they'd done it. She covers her face in shame.
Something brushes against her sensitive skin and her eyes pop openly only to shriek as she watches in horror as Joon-young, cleans up the mess between her legs and the piano keys with a handkerchief.
Her handkerchief to be exact.
Grinning bashfully at her he shrugs, shoulders now light as his hair flops on his face.
"I'll wash it later."
Too embarrassed to answer she merely stands up, small smile tugging at her lips as she picks up her neatly folder panty before stepping back into it.
"Do you see now?" Do you see how much I want you? How much space there is, just for you?"
She's fighting losing battle. The irony isn't lost on her, the one time she loses it's the best thing that's ever happened to her.
In the hallway Jung-kyung pounds her fist into the wall, arriving minutes ago to practice with Joon-young for her recital only to hear the loud crashes of a piano keys. She'd been worried about him, was he angry because she was late? Missing her terribly?
She'd rushed to open the door only to stop frozen as she heard moans following the clash of the piano, soft feminine moans followed by a voice she knew all too well. Jealous and rage consumed her at the thought of that...nobody touching her Joon-young.
Taking as deep breath she turns around walking away, she will not give up on him but staying right now is impossible she can't bear the thought of seeing him glowing from being with someone else. This was probably how he felt watching her all these years.
She will be patient and wait for him.
They are destined and his time with Song-ah is fleeting, she knows he wants her. There isn't space for anyone else.
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