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#yet I’m sure they made an impact on my life
elusivewildflower · 5 months
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Do Be Careful | Astarion x Reader Drabble
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Summary: Astarion saves you from a trap and scolds you afterwards. GN!Reader.
Word Count: 746
A/N: Based on my idea that I posted here. I might make this into a little series if I get inspired and come up with more scenarios.
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“Heyy-o.” Came Karlach’s voice, capturing the attention of the entire party. “This place is rigged.” She continued, pointing out a tripwire that was a few paces ahead of her.
Astarion sighed heavily. “Everyone keep your eyes open and be careful. I don’t particularly feel like getting blown up today.” His vermillion eyes met yours and narrowed. “Especially you, darling.” 
You raised your hand to your chest, feigning hurt by his words. “I’m always careful!” 
The pale elf scoffed. “You’re about as careful as I am honest.” 
Brushing off Astarion’s words, you turned to the left and began walking. As the rest of your party split off into different directions, Astarion trailed behind you. It seemed as if every inch of the dimly lit cellar you were exploring was covered in dust. You felt as if you couldn’t breath already, and you had only been down here for twenty minutes. All you wanted was to find the amulet you came for and get the hell out. You certainly hoped the reward for this item was worth all of the trouble. As a sneeze sounded from the elf behind you, you smiled. At least you weren’t the only one suffering. 
As you wandered through the dank cellar, your thoughts were plagued by the man behind you. Ever since the night of the tiefling party, Astarion had become your shadow. Sure, you were the self-proclaimed leader of your group and everyone followed you, but not in the same way he did. Every move you made he copied, and he never strayed far from you in a fight. His trailing after you has only gotten worse since the time you unknowingly stepped on a live trap. It’s only happened two other times, but Astarion will never let you live it down. A part of you was endeared to know the elf must care for you, even if you often questioned that matter. After all, he hadn’t been fully present with you during the night you shared. Yet, here he was, always two steps behind you, ready to pounce in case you needed saving. A heavy sigh resounded in your chest. Your relationship with the vampire was confusing to say the least. 
Too swept up in your thoughts about the shadow behind you, you didn’t spot the trap you were walking into until it was too late. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt a tripwire brush against your shin. It seems whomever rigged this cellar had a particular type of trap they favored.
 “Sh—“ 
You didn’t have time to finish your expletive before a strong arm wrapped around your waist from behind and yanked you out of harm’s way. As you tumbled to the ground, you watched an arrow shoot out from a dark corner and sail through the air right where you had been standing. A cool and lean body cushions your fall, the both of you letting out a grunt upon impact. 
After taking a moment to process what just happened, or rather, what almost happened, you rolled off of your savior. Embarrassment flooded through you as you shot him a bashful grin.
“What did I just say?!” Astarion scolded you exasperatedly. 
This was now the fourth time your resident vampire has saved your hind, and he didn’t look too pleased about it. Perhaps a compliment might distract him from his anger? You batted your eyelashes, feigning innocence. “You’re so pretty, Astarion.” 
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere right now, darling.” He chastised before heaving a sigh. You watched as his features contorted with a hint of concern. ”You could’ve, oh, I don’t know, died?!” 
Your shoulders slumped as you realized the truth of his statement. “I’m sorry….” 
“You should be!” He brushed himself off as the two of you got to your feet. “I’ve saved your life, yet again, and all I get are aches and bruises.” 
It was your turn to heave a sigh as you rolled your eyes. “You can feed on me tonight for your repayment.” 
Astarion grinned wickedly at the sound of that, his demeanor changing instantly. “Well, at least something good will come of this after all.” 
When you began to resume your, now-cleared, path, Astarion was quick to stop you. His arm splayed across your chest as he stepped in front of you. 
“Oh no, no, no. I am going to be leading us now. It’s clear that you cannot be trusted to actually use those pretty eyes of yours.” 
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d0youc0py · 2 months
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Hi! I just wanted to see if I could put in a request maybe? I love your writing and it would make my day if you wrote something about the 141 + Konig having an arguement with the reader and they yell or make a sudden move causing her to like flinch away.
If not that's totally okay too, have a lovely day!
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“I’m so tired of arguing with you John.” Your words came out whimper-like and you hated how weak it made you sound. Yet fighting with John was exhausting. Sometimes when the two of you argued it felt like it was just another form of training for him.
He instantly softened. Not that you had the wits to notice. A fat tear rolled down your cheek and John’s hand instinctively raced forward to wipe it away. But from your point of view it looked like he was coming in for a slap. Your head flew back, colliding with the kitchen cabinet. You hissed, your hands coming up to apply pressure to the sting.
“Shite, Sweetheart.” He growled. His hands found your hips, pulling you towards him. “I would never.” He reminded. His hand found its way to yours and held you gently.
“I’m sorry.” You muttered, cheeks flushed. You knew John would never lay a hand on you and you hoped he didn’t take your reaction too personal.
“Don’t apologize, Honey.” He muttered back, his lips pressed against the crown of your head.
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His body stilled. In the midst of an argument- one that he can’t even remember why it started- he reached up to rub his face, the action causing you to flinch. He doesn’t even think it counts as a flinch, because you were basically bracing for impact.
“That what you think of me?” He started. Your heart dropped in your stomach at his words, thinking he was angry, but the look on his face was the opposite. His eyes were nervous. It seemed like he was waiting for you to tell him what you truly thought of him. You quickly shook your head.
“No, Si.” You assured quickly. “I just wasn’t expecting it and you moved so fast.” You tried to explain.
“I know I can be an arse sometimes but I would never hit you. Please tell me you know that.” His eyes bore into yours and you nodded your head.
“I do, Si.” You agreed. His hand reached forward slowly and you took the invitation wrapping your arms around his middle.
“Sorry for being an arse by the way.”
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*maybe toxic behavior?*
Most of the time Johnny was an extrovert by choice. He could be the life of the party, charming and personable when he wanted to be, but he also needed his time to recharge. He’d just gotten back from a mission and wanted nothing more than to curl up with you and watch some TV show that took no brain power to understand. Instead he came home to you dressed up to the nines, heading out the door.
“Where are you off to?” He questioned, plopping his duffle bag by the door. You raced forward pressing quick kisses against his face.
“Just a little get together. Want to come?” You hummed against him.
“Didn’t I tell you I was coming back today?” He asked. You hummed in agreement, stopping your attack of affection when none of it was reciprocated.
“Yeah, you did. Why?” You questioned.
“I’ve been gone for three weeks and you’re just heading out the door.” He responded, his words nearly coming out like a snarl. This began the argument and before you knew it the two of you were screaming at each other in the entryway.
Johnny talked with his hands and that became dangerous when he was upset. His hand flung up, his fingers barely missing your cheek. All was silent. Your eyes fled with tears wondering how the man you loved could be so careless. His bright eyes were wide and were taking in every move or emotion you felt.
“I wasn’t going to”- He began.
“Sure seemed like you were going to.” You said back. He shook his head almost violently.
“Never.” He growled. “I would never hurt you.”
“Physically.” You emphasized. He shut his eyes tightly- all the hurtful things he said during the argument coming back to him.
He had a lot of making up to do.
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*it’s so hard writing angst for Kyle b/c I feel like he is just the sweetest partner everrrrr*
He came home in a mood. The weight of the world on his shoulders. He brushed past you, giving you a quick peck on the forehead before retreating to the patio for a quick smoke. He rarely smoked and the sight had you worried, but you gave him peace.
You were finishing up your laundry, not noticing as he came home behind you. When his hands touched you, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, your head colliding with the dryer.
“Fucking hell, baby.” He huffed from behind you. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized, holding your head right where you hit it.
“I didn’t even hear you.” You gasped.
“Well I’ve had training.” He smirked. “Let’s get you an ice pack, yeah? Don’t want you walking around town with a bump on your head.”
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He was venting to you, to engrossed in his own feelings that he didn’t notice the drastic change in his demeanor. You weren’t use to the side of him- and he had made sure to keep it hidden from you. The last thing he ever wanted was to frighten you. It wasn’t until his arm flung out (not towards you) and you jumped that he’d noticed what was happening.
“Scheisse.” He muttered to himself.
“I’m sorry.” You apologized quickly. “I don’t know why I did that.” You rambled. His worried eyes watched you.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized. His hands reached out to grab yours and you pushed yourself closer to him.
“You didn’t really scare me, Konnie.” You opened and closed your mouth before continuing. “I’ve just never seen you so worked up before. You just surprised me is all.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bending down so his head could rest on yours.
“Still. There are ways for me to vent without getting all worked up, ja?”
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Dad's Cam Show (Re-uploaded)
Note: This is a story I wrote in 2020 that was previously deleted by Tumblr. Couldn't find it until I stumbled upon am old hard drive. Hope you enjoy.
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This social distancing shit is so boring. I get it. It’s needed. But god damn am I running out of things to do. Can’t even meet the guys I’ve been talking to on Grindr. Worse yet is that I’m stuck back at home. I was supposed to graduate college this year! Instead I was slumped over a computer screen in my PJs with my dad making his special pancakes. Ugh. Fuck this shit. I just wish I could go back to a better time.
Whatever. I’m done complaining. Dad’s getting groceries which means I can snoop around his shit. Yeah I’m that bored.
Dad’s a big burly guy. Heading into his mid-forties now and starting to gray up a little, but still keeping his body builder life style. He’s pretty open with me. He told me he used to do cam shows back before livestreams were even a thing. Made sense. Had to show off the bod somehow. Don’t know how mom thought about it but whatever. She’s out of the picture.
His room always had a musky woodsy cologne-y smell. His laundry hamper was even better. I always loved taking his briefs out of there and putting them on myself. I’ve been following his footsteps and bodybuilding myself, but I’m still a ways away before I have an ass and waist as large as his. So his 36in undies droop a bit. I grabbed his black cap too. Man. He loves this thing. Well, plus the 10 others caps he has. He always had it topping his head. Pretty sure he wears it to sleep too. I put it on and flexed like him. I got a bit of a boner but nothing crazy.
His dinosaur of a laptop was open, and logged in. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did it anyways. There were so many folders within folders. So much boring shit… and then I found “cam pics.”
The briefs I was wearing tented and wetted. Fuck I was so scared to open it. But I clicked it and… In there was only one image. I clicked on it to make it bigger and it was my dad. About 13 years ago. He was shirtless, and wearing the same cap that I have on my head right now. My eyes drifted from his hairy arms to his chest to eventually his bearded face. He looked so… tired? There was something about the softness in his expression that really got to me. And then…
“Hey son! I’m home! Could ya help me with the groceries?”
Shit. I got up and scrambled. The briefs were soaked and still being soaked. I had so many windows to close out of. Then I started hearing his footsteps come closer. I panicked and grabbed the top of the laptop to close it, but I couldn’t move. Suddenly, all the windows on the screen started to close. All except for the image of dad I had opened it. It enlarged by itself, and then the laptop started to fucking shake. I tried to get it to stop but it just kept rumbling. Fuck it. I wound up my fist and punched the screen. But there was no impact.
In less than a second my body followed my wrist into the screen. Everything went bright, and I was in a different room. I looked around. It looked like my parents’ room at our old house. The same laptop was in front of me showing the same image as before. Dad’s younger face looking back… And then I saw his eyes move. I froze. I looked at the time. 12:56 turned to 12:57. This wasn’t an image. It was a fucking livestream.
I slowly tilted my head. Dad did the same. I widened my eyes. So did dad. A smile crept over our faces. I just time travelled! And into dad’s body! Fuck there was so much I could do now!
“PING”
A old-school AIM notification popped up on screen. I maneuvered dad’s hand to the mouse and clicked on it. “Hey daddy. You gonna give us a show or what?”
“PING”
“Let’s see those hairy pits man!”
Fuck. I guess dad wasn’t kidding about these cam shows. Shit how do I reply? Do I just say something?
“Uh…” I gulped. Dad’s gruff voice was in my throat. “You guys mean… uh… this?” I lifted and flexed dad’s right arm. Immediately his armpit hair bursted out. Moist and smelly. My nose naturally turned towards the sweaty pit. Holy fuck was it musky. I took a deep whiff and groaned.
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“PING. PING. PING. PING.”
“Fuck yeah daddy. Sniff that pit.”
“God damn you’re a big guy. How’s it feel huh?”
It felt amazing being so big. Watching everything I was doing be reflected by my dad on the recording was even better. The cockiness came in.
I wheeled the office chair back and did a double bicep pose. Sweat dripped off his hairy pits. I gave my face a rub and felt his beard scratch against his callused fingers. Then my hands felt the need to go down to his chest. I never felt so much pleasure from nipple rubbing in my life. The pings kept on coming. It was euphoric.
Dad’s cock was tenting the briefs I had put on earlier. I uncaged his 7 incher and let out a whiff of junk musk that filtered into my nose immediately. I started stroking and couldn’t stop. My other hand reached under dad’s taint, through the forest of pubes, and rammed a dildo into my dad’s ass crack.
“PING. PING. PING.”
“Holy fuck this is new! We gonna see a fingering show today!?”
“God damn man you enjoying yourself?”
I was. Everytime Dad’s moans left my throat I felt cock twitch a little bit harder. It just felt so amazing to feel his beefy arms rub against his beefy chest. His toes curling with every electric shock of pleasure moving through his beefy ass and legs.
I shot his load. Let out a gutteral yell. And it didn’t stop coming. My beard was soaked with three shots of cum. Chest was drenched with eight more. At this point, sweat was trickling down my temples. I relished in dad’s orgasm and then relaxed in the chair.
I watched as the notifications went crazy. Dad’s soft eyes housing my consciousness. Ugh. It felt incredible. I glanced over at his hat and felt the need to take it off. I did, and felt a wave of cool relief come off my head. Dad’s hair was cropped short, like a messy crew cut. And it was dripping with sweat. I felt the need to say something.“You like that, men?” Dad had so much suave in voice. The pings accelerated.I smiled and played with my cock. I could feel another round coming but felt a bigger presence unfold. Suddenly dad’s body started to shake. I tried controlling it, but I couldn’t weigh him down. My arms were flailing before my hands grabbed onto the edges of the desk. I whipped my head back, then head-butted the laptop screen. Light filtered through.
I was back at home, in my dad’s loose fitting briefs, his cap nestled on my head. Dad’s footsteps came by, then turned another direction. Guess he wasn’t coming by his room just yet. I looked down at his briefs, now soaked with my cum. Fuck. Was it just a dream?
It must’ve been. Just a fucking horny fever dream. What the fuck ever. Better than what I had been doing up until now. I leaned over to close the laptop but noticed something.
The image had turned into a recording.
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mystra-midnight · 4 months
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Dark Paradise
summary: geralt was all-consuming, invading every one of your senses; somehow, he'd snaked his way beneath your skin and between your ribs before burrowing into your heart. he lived there now, and you couldn't breathe without him.
warnings: 18+ only. breeding kink. overstimulation. mentions of multiple orgasm. name calling; slut. dom!geralt.
words: 1k.
notes: no one will ever convince me that geralt is a soft man. he is all strength, and arrogance, and hard muscles. and he will dominate his woman. admittedly this is shorter then i wanted it to be, and maybe not my best work, but i do hope you enjoy.
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If ever there was something to be grateful for, it was this: being able to fuck his woman raw without the fear of an unwanted pregnancy. Having you naked beneath him was everything Geralt wanted—to watch your velvet walls stretch around his cock's girth, to feel your body tremble as he rocked his hips against your ass, to watch your cum mixed with his be forced from your tight hole with each brutal thrust.
You knew, completely and irrevocably, that there was no chance of falling pregnant with Geralt of Rivia. The trials had made him sterile, though you boiled fennel and drank it regularly to be certain. Your mother taught you from the eve of your first bleed to protect yourself against others, to trust no one but yourself, and that having a child with the wrong man could lead your life to ruin.
But tonight he had come to your cottage on the outskirts of the village in a foul and angry mood, with snarling tongue and gnashing fangs. He refused to tell you what had happened as he forced you down to your knees. All he'd wanted was your naked body beneath him.
"Geralt." Your voice quivered and rose to a crescendo when he speared through the satin clutch of your cunt and hit the sweet spot that sent your eyes spinning. Geralt of Rivia was not a small man—not in any sense of the word. He was tall and impossibly strong. His eyes were intense, and his hair was the colour of starlight. With broad shoulders and a myriad of scars along his body, he was every woman's fantasy.
And he refused to treat you with fragility. To him, you were not a damsel in distress. So he fucked like he fought, with teeth and tongue, and in every position. "I-I can't. S'too much."
Your thighs trembled under the lingering force of the three orgasms Geralt had pulled from the depths of your soul—on his fingers, tongue, and cock. Another one would surely kill you; you would float away from your body and away from him, never to return. But the idea of him filling you again was heavenly and impossible to deny—not when he dominated you so beautifully.
"You can," he grunted, his voice a rough growl. Geralt followed a bead of sweat that dripped down your spine with the tip of his tongue, leaving your sweat-slick skin goosepimpled. His hand followed the same path until he gripped the nape of your neck and pressed you into the mattress, keeping you cemented in place as he filled into you again. “You can, because I’m not stopping.”
Geralt knew that you wouldn't reply—at least not verbally. The impact of his hips against your ass was brutal, forcing the air from your mouth in pretty moans. The clutch of your cunt was more than enough of an answer. He smeared his lips along your shoulder as he shadowed over you like a terrible, haunting visage. The angle made it seem as though he was in your guts, rearranging your organs.
"That's a good girl," he cooed against your skin, his tone positively mocking. "Now, you stay right there while I fuck a baby into you. That's what my slut wants, isn't it? To be swollen with my child?"
He turned feral and ferocious in a flash, ruthlessly rutting into you. He drove you to the brink of yet another orgasm as you clawed at the sheets. Between whoreish moans, your walls tightened around him, leaving you gasping for air. A familiar warmth moved through your aching limbs and raced through your blood while a thunderstorm roared behind your ears.
"Geralt. Geralt, please, I can't. I can't—oh, fuck. There, r-right there." You babbled mindlessly. You felt lost in the sensation of his hands grabbing here, there, and everywhere. You felt lost in the sting of his teeth and tongue and how he tasted your skin. You felt lost in the pressure of his fingers and how he left bruise-shaped prints everywhere he touched.
"Right here?" He demanded. His fingers dug into the curve of your hips as he pulled you back to meet his pelvis, the sound of wet skin connecting echoing loudly in the small cottage. You squirmed and keened when he hit that sweet spot. "Is this what my slut needed—to feel me this deep?"
You didn’t hear him over the thunderstorm, which had grown into a deafening roar that blocked out the world. And as your vision went white, the pressure snapped, and a bolt of lightning sparked a wildfire in your blood. You felt like you were burning alive; the air in your lungs was superheated, and nothing could cool it. You came hard, screaming his name as he held you in place.
Geralt held you tightly, fingerprint bruises decorating your skin while galaxies burst to life inside your veins. The warmth of your cunt was divine, a heavenly caress as he rutted into you, chasing his own release as he threw his head back. "There you go," he grunted. He slapped your ass just hard enough to get your attention. "You're such a good slut. Does it feel good cumming for me while I breed you?"
You still couldn't answer him; each thrust knocked the air from your lungs, leaving your mouth open as you gasped, squealed, and wriggled in his grasp. Geralt didn't seem to mind. With a final thrust, he buried himself. His hand in your hair held you in place and tinged your scalp with a pleasurable sort of pain as the last of your orgasm ebbed away, leaving your clit throbbing in time with your heartbeats.
It was a welcomed feeling when his release painted your walls—a feeling that made your brain foggy. And despite the haze clouding your thoughts, you knew in that moment you would give yourself to this man. Not only your heart, but your body as well. You knew that if there was a way, you would give him what he wanted, and you would let him breed you.
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plussizeficchick · 11 months
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Taste of Heaven | Sugar Daddy!Gojo x Bimboish! Chubby Reader
Warnings: (Smut; oral, fingering, vibrator, light impact play, ‘toru’s a bit mean in this one)
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Gojo loves your smile.
He loves the way your cute, chubby cheeks lift. How he can actually see stars in your eyes when your lips curve upwards.
It really doesn’t take much.
New Jimmy Choos here, Telfars different colors and sizes there. He barely made a dent in his pocket yet you thought he was spoiling you.
He hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface of spoiling you.
How you met was of pure chance. Gojo felt there was something, someone lacking from his life. He had all this wealth, yet no one to share it with. As he was browsing through the various expensive clothes in front of him, he hadn’t bothered to pay attention and bumped into you. You were trying to decide which mini skirt would go with your bubblegum pink top. “Oof- Hey, Mister? Which do you think is cuter, light blue or dark?” Satoru almost didn’t catch your question because he was too busy gaping in awe.
The only way to describe you was angelic. Gorgeous eyes that he could already feel himself getting lost in, pouty, plump lips that he could only imagine felt like pillows, cute, pudgy tummy that complimented your bodycon dress deliciously.
Pure heaven.
He let out an awkward cough before answering, “Why not both?” You let out a soft giggle, “I can’t get both, silly! I’m already buying a bunch of stuff.” Satoru smiles, peeking over his shades, “That’s not a problem, Angel.”
— —
“Are you sure about this, ‘Toru?” You murmured, glassy eyes staring back into light blue ones. He gave you a loving squeeze as a smirk made its way to his face, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. “Of course, Angel. Has daddy ever been wrong?” You shake your head, pressing a brief peck to his lips before moving to check yourself in the mirror again, Satoru raking his eyes up and down your figure.
You looked great, you always do. Satoru decided to splurge, once again, treating you to a shopping spree and now dinner. You decided to wear one of the many Armani gowns that you’d bought, though this one hugged your curves impeccably. You paired it with your sleek black Louboutin heels, which made your thighs look even more yummy than they already do, and Satoru can already feel himself getting hard. But he can’t get ahead of himself.
You’ve got a cute baby blue vibrator nestled in your cunt just begging to be tested out.
So for now, he’ll put his desires aside and sit through dinner.
— —
You’d made it as far as the door before both you and Satoru lost your patience.
He pressed you up against the door, his tongue swirling in tandem with yours as he hoists you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, soft whimpers spilling from your lips. “On. Turn it on, ‘Toru.” You whine against his lips. He abruptly pulls away from your lips, pushing you back as you chase after him. He delivers a slap to your cheek, not enough to hurt, but enough to know he means business. “Since when did you start telling daddy what to do?” He says, carrying you over to your couch. He takes his time peeling away at your clothes, leaving you bare while he remains fully clothed. A shiver runs down your spine as he lays you across his lap, kneading your ass cheeks. “Seems like someone needs to be reminded of their place.” He muttered before reeling his hand back and delivering a harsh slap to your ass. You whine at the pain, but your cunt clenches at the slight pleasure that comes afterward. “You’re my cocksleeve, love. A dirty. Fucking. Slut.” He says, delivering a slap between each pause. Your body shifts as he spanks you, and it doesn’t take long before he realizes what you’re trying to do.
He grabs a handful of your hair, pulling you up so you can really hear him. “I see you trying to get off on my thigh, fucking slut. Since you wanna cum so bad, I’ll let you cum, but you’re gonna cum for me all. Fucking. Night.” He sits you up so that you’re straddling him before he reaches for his phone. He taps his chin, almost as if he’s in thought. “Hmm, should I make you work for it, or should I just put it on the highest setting?” He contemplates, though he already knows his answer. He turns it on the highest setting and you yelp, startled by the intense vibrations in your cunt. “How about both?” He smirks, snaking a hand down to rub at your sensitive clit. “You’re gonna make me cum, Angel. You’re gonna make daddy feel good then he’s gonna make you feel even better. How’s that sound?”
You try to whine out an answer, but the thrumming of the vibrator in your cunt is just too intense. You’re taken aback when Satoru delivers another slap to your cheek, gripping your chubby cheeks between his fingers. “Answer me.” He grumbles, flicking your clit with his middle and forefinger. “Good! Sounds good, daddy. Please!” You whine. You’re so close! “Cum, Princess. Cum for daddy.” He grunts into your mouth as he presses a hot kiss to your swollen lips. You whine as your orgasm washes over you, your body practically conditioned to cum at his command.
He lowers the speed as you come down from your high, though doesn’t completely turn it off. He takes to lowering his pants before giving you a quick kiss. “Make daddy feel good, yeah?” You nod, lowering yourself so that you're faced with his cock.
You run your tongue along the veins of his cock, before lapping up with drops of pre oozing from the tip. You moan at the taste and Satoru takes that as invitation to grip your hair, forcing you to take more of him in your mouth. “That’s it, pretty. Suck that fucking cock.” He orders and well, you’ve always been a submissive little thing.
You swallow more of his length, crystalline tears building up in your eyes, and Satoru thinks you just look so gorgeous with his cock stuffed down your throat, your cute chubby cheeks just waiting to be stuffed with cum. It’s with that thought he starts to feel his climax building and when you notice the slight jerk in his legs, you take to fondling his balls, knowing that’s just what he needs to push him over the edge.
Satoru cums with a shout, thrusting deep inside your mouth as his seed slides down your throat. You hum at the taste, savoring his flavor.
He pulls you up by your chin and plants a sloppy kiss to your lips, groaning at the taste of him in your mouth. “Fuck, Angel. Let daddy taste you, hm?” You nod, eager to cum again.
Satoru slowly makes his way down your body, pressing wet kisses and nipping at the soft skin along the way. He shuts the vibrator off and carefully removes it from your cunt. You hiss at the feeling but he soothes you by laving his tongue over it, paying special attention to your clit. You whine, running your hands through his hair and giving a slight tug at the root. He grunts before sucking on your clit and flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves.
It doesn’t take long before your hips start bucking against his face, chasing your orgasm for the second time that night. “Gonna cum for me, pretty? Gonna cum for daddy?” You nod, breath getting caught in your throat. Satoru speeds up his movements, moving to press two fingers into your cunt. “Cum for daddy, Angel. Make a mess f’me.” You barely manage to make out his name as you cum, cunt spasming around his fingers as he milks your orgasm for all its worth.
He trails soft kisses along your body once more before planting a sweet kiss to your lips. He hums against your lips, content being so close to you. He pulls away slightly to look you in your eyes. “Want more, daddy.” You say, grinding your cunt against his steadily growing cock.
He can never say no to his Angel.
— —
Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @sintiva @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @haikyutiehoe @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon
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jarofstyles · 6 months
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Reaper 13
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This is SUPER LONG and dirty but enjoyyy it for as long as it lasts hehe.
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Warnings- possessive behavior, aggression, threats, mention of murder, stalking, illegal acts  we do not Condone, knife play, impact play (slapping x spanking), daddy kink if you squint, breeding kink mention, degradation, dom/sub dynamic, dumbification if you squint, choking, bondage w belt, hair pulling.... you get the gist everything is filthy as per usual 
WC- 11.3k
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Tourist attractions really weren’t Harry’s thing, especially in his own city. He thought it was all a bit underwhelming, he’d rather look at a photo and be over it. He never thought he’d ever step foot in the Victoria and Albert Museum, Kensington was no place for someone like him. Yet there he was, watching his own work of art, Bunny, read the plaques by each painting.
The way her eyes lit up this morning when he told her they’d do whatever she wanted, he didn’t have it in himself to say no. So he let her drag him along to all the sites, even going as far as taking photos with her. If she were anyone else, he would tell her to stuff it- but that smile made it worth every moment of internal suffering.
“I’m getting hungry,” Bunny whispered to him, wanting to be respectful of the environment. Her arm had snaked its way under his, her hand curling around his bicep for comfort.
Harry chuckled when he felt her squeeze at the muscle, mindlessly going to place a kiss on the top of her head. The mindless affection had become more and more common. “You okay to head back towards the hotel? The options around here are a bit shit.” Harry continued in a hushed tone, guiding the two of them towards the stairs to begin exiting. “Plus, there are a bunch of pubs back that way… can get you some of that authentic food to try.”
“Authentic food?” She raised a brow. “You mean beans on toast? Egg in the hole?” There was teasing in her tone, a giant grin on her face as he looked down at her. She was taunting him, but it was good to see her really fucking smile after these last few weeks.
A scoff sounded from his throat, eyes rolling as they continued. “Lucky you’re cute. Or I’d toss your ass into the Thames, and that is particularly unpleasant.” He retorted, lightly pinching her side to make her squeak.
“Oi! Precious cargo here.” Her hip bumped into his as they walked, looking at her fake wedding ring. Although it wasn’t real, seeing it and what it represented made her stomach flutter. Would that be a possibility? Would he ever actually propose? What ring would he actually choose? He’d probably do it somewhere very private and secret, just the two of them. Shaking herself out of that thought, she continued. “What I was saying was, yes. I’m happy to head back. Your arm must be tired from holding all of my stuff.”
It wasn’t too bad. A few bags with the very tacky and overpriced London swag, things he knew she would probably stick on a shelf and not use- but part of him felt some sort of happiness that she liked it enough to buy souvenirs. “S’fine, darling. Snow globes and tee shirts and magnets are surprisingly lightweight.”
“Right, so you don’t mind if I drag us into the gift shop?” Bunny teased and squeezed his arm, tripping over her feet a bit as she leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.
Harry had never thought he’d experience this type of relationship. It almost felt juvenile with how they clung to one another and got shy at each other's teasing ocassionally. It felt so out of character for him, but then again, it came naturally with her. He thought, if his life had been different, that maybe that’s how he was meant to be.
“Thought you said you were hungry?”
———
Pubs were a quintessential part of the British experience. You could go just about anywhere in the UK and there would always be a pub to welcome you in. Sure, the decor was a bit outdated, but Harry always thought it made them more charming. No two pubs were exactly alike. Some had different stools.
“What do you fancy? Fish and chips? Bangers and Mash? Gonna take you for a roast at the weekend.” Harry’s speech had already adjusted, his accent thicker than she’d ever heard it before. It made Bunny smile fondly, she’d never seen him in a mood like this and she was cherishing every second.
“Fancy, huh? You’re sounding incredibly British today, Mr.Davidson.” She winked, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and looping them as they settled at the end of the bar. The mood was just so good today, and she was relishing it.
“Fancy, yes. Like I fancy you.” His voice was quiet, a tiny smirk on the corner of his lips as she felt her heart stutter in her chest. His hands came to hold her hips, cuffing them with his cool skin and making her shiver. Her outfit wasn’t particularly thick- which was why she had stopped to buy the coat she’d hung up when they walked in. If someone stole it, oh well. It was pretty cheap.
“You do?” She peered at him through her lashes, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Gonna make me blush. Look at you, flirty man.” Harry had been exceptionally affectionate today and it had almost taken her off guard. Like he could finally let go a bit and give her the proper boyfriend treatment, loved treatment, whatever it was called. It made her all fuzzy and hot in her stomach.
“Good. Like making y’shy.” He tugged at the ends of her hair. “Soon as a table opens up we can sit down and properly eat.” But he didn’t mind standing here. He soaked in every second of her leaning into him, playing like a proper couple on a ‘honeymoon’. He liked the feeling of the ring on that finger.
Bunny nodded along, letting her eyes wander around the dimly lit space. The place wasn’t too packed, though as the clouds drew in it seemed everyone was looking for shelter.
“Y/N? No fucking way.” A familiar voice interrupted Bunny from her train of thought. Her head snapped in the direction the voice was coming from, swallowing thickly. Fuck. Not here- not now.
“Ian?” She hadn’t seen him in years, not since he moved away for college. She had been so devastated back then. Sterling’s departure had taken a toll on her and well, Ian wasn’t man enough to tell her he too would be leaving her.
“Are you stalking me?” He joked, taking a step towards her. It seemed as though he hadn’t noticed just who she was there with.
Harry was quick to place himself between them.
Who the fuck is this? And why the fuck did he know Bunny? His jaw clenched so hard he was surprised his teeth didn’t crack, feeling fingers gently pressing against his arm as he looked down at the shorter man.
Was this some sort of sick joke?
“Who the fuck are you?” His words were cold, his molten relaxed nature from before cooling quickly before shattering like glass on the pavement. His eyes were sharp and hard as he looked down, feeling her peek over his arm and try and move closer but he extended it to keep her behind him.
Whoever the fuck this Ian was, he was in London. A place where she knew no one. The world couldn’t possibly be that small, and he was on edge all over again. “Are you following her?”
Oh god. Bunny stepped forward, clutching Harry’s arm in her grasp to try and chill him out. It looked bad, it definitely looked bad and she could understand his irritation, but-
“H, it’s okay-“
“No. It isn’t.” His harsh tone stung his own ears as he approached further, eyes zeroed in on him. “I’ll ask again, How the fuck did you find her here?”
“Find her?” Ian looked like he had seen a ghost. He had remembered Reaper, very very well. How could he forget all the times he’d come over and he’d be outside working on his bike? The death stare he gave was enough to have him rushing inside without turning back. He was aware of the reputation Reaper held, to say Ian was scared was an understatement.
“Dude, I swear I wasn’t trying to make any moves, just surprised she’s here— I live here man.” Ian was in a rush to finish his sentences, attempting to clear the lump forming his throat.
“Baby, you know that, remember? I was dating him before Sterling left.” Bunny peeped up from behind him, her heart beating out of her chest. The last thing she needed was for Harry to cause a scene when they were trying to lay low. While the coincidence was shocking, she knew full well Ian was too stupid to pull off what her stalker was pulling.
“Where?” Harry barked, preparing to grill the man for all he was worth. If he couldn’t tell him a way a Londoner would understand, he was worried he would do his head in right here on the bar. His stomach had already been turning at the mere mention of him dating her before, but the thought of being face to face with someone who could possibly be part of this ongoing torture of his girl? He was seething.
“Canary Wharf, a few stops on the DLR. I’m not giving you my address, sicko.”
“Sicko?” He laughed without humor. “I’m not the one following girls around. How’d you know she’d be here?” He took a step closer, the hair on the back of his neck prickled as he tried to scan the man’s face for any hint of lying.
He was scared shitless, as he should be, but Harry was thrown right back into the paranoia that he usually felt back home. The hesitation and distrust of anyone who got around her. How perfect would it be for her obsessive ex to be the one following her around?
“I didn’t! I swear I didn’t, bro. I’m just as surprised as she is- t-tell him, Y/N. Please!” He was backing up slightly as Harry took another step forward, making her grab his arm and try and tug him back.
“H- Hey.” She gently dragged her fingers down his arm. “Please. It’s okay. He’s been here for a while, he left a while back. I didn’t know where he was moving to.” Trying to diffuse the situation was unnerving. She’d seen Harry get like this a few times, but she didn’t want to make a scene here. “Look at me, please. He’s not the person you think.” Meaning her stalker. She could see the cogs turning in his mind, the nervousness from how he worked his jaw, how his other hand had slipped behind him to have a hand on his gun if he needed it. They couldn’t afford to have that happen in such a public place, but it was well known that Harry, when he was Reaper mindset, didn’t care. He would take out a threat and deal with the consequences. As much as it warmed her that he was that dedicated to her safety, it wasn’t any good if he went down for taking out the wrong guy.
“Babe.” Her stern tone cut through the tension, her hand moving to squeeze over his hand tightly. This couldn’t happen. Bunny’s heart was beating out of her chest, looking between the two of them as she tried to figure out what her next move was. “Ian, you remember Harry yeah?” She began, her fingers rubbing gentle circles over the wedding band on her boyfriend’s hand. It would be hard to explain it to Ian, so she figured it was best to keep them hidden. “He brought me here to London to show me around, we’ve been together for a while now so it felt like a good time to see where he came from.”
Harry was still sizing Ian up, chest heaving slightly. Focusing on the sound of Bunny’s voice, he could still hear the faint sound of blood pumping in his ears. This guy was harmless, she had ruled him out but Harry’s brain was still on high alert.
“Anyways, we were just leaving,” Harry interjected, no longer wishing to be in this idiot's presence. He needed to be back in a safe space with his Bunny.
“We don’t have to-“
“I just remembered our reservation. Let’s go.”  The tone of his voice had taken her off guard, unfamiliar with the sweet one he usually held specifically for her, but she would let it go despite how it stung under her skin. He was wound up and nervous, and he had just had a scare in the one place he had seemed to key his guard down. She had to remember that. He had just been knocked over, metaphorically speaking.
“You don’t have to run off,” Ian said with a laugh, feeling a bit bolder and wanting to reclaim that stupid masculinity he had felt was stripped of him from the interaction. “I’m not going to try and steal her-“
Before he could finish, his shirt was fisted in Harry’s hand, his body whipped around and pressed to the bar as the cocky look on his face faded to fear. His eyes were dark and cold, though the anger was simmering under the surface of his skin.
“You can’t have her. She isn’t an item to be stolen. I’ve heard about your puny cock and the lack of care you’ve given my girl. Bold of you to assume she’s mentioned more than her dissatisfaction over you.” He did indeed remember this dickhead. It made him want to drag him to the back alley and use the silencer on his gun to take him out. But he was in public. So threats would have to do. “If you breathe a word of her being here, if you try to contact her, if you even look at her again tonight, I will end you. Make your life a living hell, and end it with your body sunk in the Thames.” His words were quiet, but so matter of fact that Bunny’s eyes widened. The pub noises would filter out anyone else hearing, but she could.
“I know the people from the deepest depths of the underground here. One fucking call and I’ll have your entire flat ruined, your bank account drained, and your body strung up in an abandoned building before they dispose of you. So heed this warning very, very carefully.” He got closer. “You’ll stay here, order a pint, and forget that this night and my woman has ever existed. If I hear a word of this breathed out -and I will- I’ll make good on my phone call.” Eyes traced him in disgust. “And you won’t make very good fish food, either.”
Finally, he dropped the guy and pulled Bunny with him, trying to be mindful of how hard he pulled so her shorter legs wouldn’t make her fall. But he was livid. Angry, his face blank and nostrils flared as he grits his teeth.
She decided to stay silent, following him and wrapping her arm around his, their connected fingers an anchor for the both of them. “I’m sorry.” Her voice peeped, looking up at him. “I-didn’t know he would be there. I swear I haven’t known anything since he moved.”
He froze. Why was she apologizing?
Harry could hear the sound of his teeth grinding, though it seemed he felt no pain. His focus was purely on getting her back to the hotel as safely and quietly as possible. Stupid fucking idiot had to choose this pub of all pubs in London to walk into and ruin the perfect end to the day for his perfect girl.
“S’ fine, Bun.” Harry tried his best to reassure her, though his breathing was still heavy and his mind was still racing. He was on high alert as he guided the two of them through the busy crowd of Leicester Square, no one paid much attention to them there. Only one more turn and they’d be safe in the street right by their hotel.
Bunny wasn’t sure what she was expecting as they entered the hotel and made their way up. She chose to stay quiet, her arms wiggling their way around his waist as her head rested against his chest in an attempt to soothe them both. His heart was pounding, though his muscles were noticeably less tense than they had been at the pub.
She didn’t think she’d be able to eat much now, her main concern was tending to Harry. It’d been a good while since he’d snapped back into his protective state, they’d worked so hard to get him to actually relax on this trip. She had been worried it was all for nothing.
“Talk to me.” She murmured as they entered the safety of their room, the sound of Harry double-checking the locks behind them had her eyes squeezing shut. She wished he didn’t have to go through this. If only they didn’t go to that pub.
His throat bobbed as he scanned the room again, only broken out of the trance when her hands gently grabbed his face, cradling his jaw. All she did was gentle. She treated him with a softness no one else ever had, one that he had never even thought of himself being able to have.
There was a moment he stood without a word, looking down at him as he tried to gather himself. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her or make her feel neglected like he had the time before, but it was really fucking hard to do that. His body was taught, tense and he held back tremors of both rage and fear. It was a false alarm, sure, but he had felt all the feelings he imagined surfacing from finding the son of a bitch stalker. His uneven breathing filled the room as she continued to try and soothe him, her soft and concerned gaze killing him. How the fuck was she being so good with him even after what he had done? How he had shut down?
“I was terrified.” He admitted into the silence of the room. “That it was him. I’m still not convinced he isn’t involved.  I was letting myself get too relaxed. You’re in danger.” He stressed, head tilting back as he ran his hands over his face. There was obvious regret and self anger in his tone, breaking her heart just a bit more. “I was selfish for not letting my head be on a swivel.  I could never forgive myself if I let you get hurt. Ever.” Hs hands peeled off his cheeks so he could look at her, the seriousness of his words bleeding through.
“I promised to protect you. Not only to your father, to your brother- but to myself. This whole thing, you and I? It isn't just sex to me, Bunny. You’re- you’re mine. In every fucking sense of the word. The one person that means anything to me and if I fuck up because I want to- I want to be selfish and just let go? I’d die. If you hurt, I hurt. I can’t ever let it happen.” He felt the intensity in his stomach rise, the feelings he had been trying to keep in check boiling over in the pot. Frothing over the edges, he couldn’t stop himself from falling for her, no matter how many times he had stirred and tried to keep the overflow at bay.
“You mean the most to me. I’ve never cared this much about a person. I felt so much rage… not only at him but at myself. I’m so angry.” He growled. “He looked at you. He touched your arm. How much fucking clearer does it have to be?” Slowly backing her up, Bunny trusting him as her back bumped against the door and her head tipped up to look up at him. Her angry knight. So passionate about protecting her. “Do I have to get you a sign to tell people you’re mine? That I’m yours and I will rip their hearts from their chest, I will slice off any finger that touches you?” His eyes blazed, Harry’s discomfort obvious. He meant every word. AS gruesome as he could be, she hadn’t seen the whole of it yet. This girl got to see the good parts of him and he was convinced that she would be the only one they were reserved for.
Bunny’s eyes searched his, trying to find some kind of sign. Sure, his emotions were on high, but he meant each word he was saying. She could feel it— never once did his words falter, his gaze never leaving hers as his fingertips delicately began to push her jacket off of her shoulders.
“Say something.” Harry breathed, his eyes too scanning hers in an attempt to anchor himself in the moment. When he was with her nothing else mattered, he didn’t have to be anyone he wasn’t. With her he was free. “I mean every word—“
“I know.” Bunny’s voice had been so quiet she wasn’t even sure if he heard it. The words she had wanted to say were hiding just under her breath, if only she felt brave she would tell him. Profess that she loved him and that she trusted him more than anyone else in this world. “I keep thinking,” She started, her sentence interrupted by the thump of her jacket falling on the floor. “You’re the only one I’d want to be here with. The only one I want…” Her words trailed off with a soft moan. God, she was sick.
Cold fingertips dragged up along her arm, Harry’s other hand finding the warmth of her lower back just under her top. He really couldn’t help himself, she was the only thing that could get him to relax.
His stomach heated with a different sort of passion. A flick of a candle, a switch of a blade, a single moan. Her soft body melted into his own as her eyes bore into his own, that calming energy sinking into his skin and melding into arousal that he couldn’t help. She was aroused by this?
Yes. She was. The woman was affected by his words, by his protective nature. Even as deprived and awful, inhumane as his version of justice could be perceived as, she was excited by it. Flattered. His face got closer to hers, bracing with his arm against the door.
“I mean it.” His words were a shaky exhale. “I mean every fucking word.” His hands slipped further under the fabric, her hot skin melting his icy interiors yet again. “Anyone touches you… anyone even thinks about stroking this perfect skin… tasting your mouth…. Harming a single hair on your head. I’d end them.” He pressed closer, fingers finding the nape of her neck. “I’d kill for you, baby. D’you know that?” Harry doubted that she would ever actually know the full extent of what he would do for her. How close she had him to being on his knees at her wish.
She nodded, their noses brushing together. Harry smiled, not a normal one but what she could consider almost feral. Hot. Her thighs trembled as she couldn’t recall anyone else who had been able to gain such a reaction from her body. Their interactions were always something she felt fully, but his intensity was ringing in her ears, throbbing through her body. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that he would.
“I almost did tonight. I meant every word. And I’ll do the same back in Vegas. I’ll find who is tracking you… I’ll send them to meet Hades myself. And then… then I’m going to take you on a proper vacation. I’m going to take you to a beach and fuck you on the sand, I’m going to fuck you on my bike, I’m going to do everything you deserve.  I know I don’t deserve you. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch, Bunny. I’m mean, I fight, I do illegal shit, I’ve got blood on my hands and targets on my back, but I’m keeping you anyway.” Their breathing mingled as he tried to control himself but it was slipping.
His lips pressed against hers hard, feeling her fists on his shirt to pull him closer. It was no use.
“I will burn the entire fucking city down to make sure you’re safe. I’ve never been afraid of anything. Death, fire, pain. But I’m fucking terrified of losing you.”
Time stood still as the two of them stood barely a step into their hotel room. Harry cradled her with his arm, unable to get enough of his skin on her own. Her shivers only drove him all the more insane, he was hypnotized by the feeling she brought him, the comfort of her existence was something he felt himself continuously getting drunk on. He didn’t want to stop himself, he couldn’t. Not when every moment felt like it could be their very last.
“I’m not going anywhere, Harry. I’ll always find you.” Bunny knew there was very little could do, but on the off chance that this fucker managed to find her she would leave as many clues for Harry as she possibly could. No way would she let some monster get in the way of this beautiful blossoming relationship. “Even if it hurts me.” She whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips. She was hungry to taste them again, it was the perfect remedy for the comedown of shock. What if she wanted it to hurt?
“Please let go just for tonight… just take me how you want to.” She would do just about anything to get him back to a relaxed state again. This feral look on his face awakened something in her, he’d previously mentioned he’d been holding back. There was something about the dark breathy chuckle he let out that had her mind reeling.  “I’m serious.” Bunny felt her heart rate picking up as he toyed with the delicate skin of her neck. “Please.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” He whispered, trying to keep that curated delicacy he had reserved for her at hand- but failing. Failing miserably.
“I do.” She whispered back, arching into him. “You’re upset. You want to prove that I’m yours?” There was danger in taunting him. The girl knew that. But she wanted him to break down, to give in to those urges again. The last time had been so, so good. She could still feel the slight ache but she wanted more. Greedy. She was so incredibly greedy for every lick and drop of affection, his real self she could get. Her hand reached for his, pulling it towards the front of her throat to collar it.
“Fuck me, Harry. Own me. Use my body, mark me, make everyone know.” She bleated, eyes wide for him. “Please?” Her lips pressed against his. “Please, please, please. Just for tonight- make me ache. You know my limits. Push them.”
“Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.” Harry breathed through his nose, trying so hard not to give in to her even though she was offering herself up on a silver platter. The feeling of his hand around her throat was something that’d felt natural, her kiss tempting him even more. She knew just how to get him to succumb to her desires but there was still that bit of fear.
Sure, the other night they dabbled into the territory. A few good slaps, her slipping into subspace. This, however, was a whole other beast. Harry could be truly sadistic, relentless in the way he fucked women. While his girl had proven to be the perfect slut for him, he still worried that he would lose himself. There would always be more caution in this because he cared about her, he adored her, her life meant something to him. It just made him worry a little about self control when she taunted him. Especially when he was in a mood like this. Where he knew he wouldn’t stop himself from absolutely ruining her.
“I want you to.” Bunny was confident that she could take it. The slaps yesterday were manageable, hot, even and with the right aftercare, she was positive there was nothing he could do that would truly hurt her. Harry in his feral state was terrifying, yes, but a thrill that made her sopping wet. She was the object of his desire, surely the aggression he would lay upon her would translate differently than it had with anyone before her.
“Want you to show me the real you… want to know what it’s like, I can handle it.” She had opened up for him so nicely, let him see her slip into the softest of spaces. She had hoped to see him enter his own headspace, one where they could interact together.
“God….” Harry rolled his head back on his shoulders, his erratic breathing amplified by her fingers pressing over his own, making him squeeze. It got his attention right away. Damn it all to hell. The woman had a road map to the paths to drive him wild the quickest, the buttons installed in the tips of her little fingers.
She moaned. The vibration of it stung his palm. She was serious. Her head rolling back on the door as she hated herself to him with her eyes fluttering at the feeling. She was showing him, taunting him, and Harry could feel the tether to his rational being fraying.
“You… can handle it?” His lips curled up in one of the most cruel little smirks she had ever seen. “The soft, sweet little slut can handle it? Just a bit of slapping has you slipping. You really think you can manage it? When I make a mess out of you?”
Her nod made him narrow his eyes, watching as she blinked up at him. Did she?
He tested the waters, gathering saliva under his tongue and spitting it right on her closed lips, getting a surprised gasp from her. A flinch. “Lick your lips. Clean it up.” He stood straighter, seeming to loom over her. She stood with wide eyes, looking like she was going to speak before he took his fingers from behind her and lightly smacked her cheek.
“I didn’t fucking ask you to speak.  Did I?” Her head shook, a tiny whimper making him laugh before continuing on. “No, I didn’t. I know you get a little brainless when I touch you, all you can think about is cock… but I gave you instruction. Try again.” He hissed, feeling his cock throb at how quickly she let her tongue rub over her lips. Pink brushing over the glistening pair of lips wet with his spit, she slowly dragged the muscle over the pout.
“There we are. Pretty little pet does have some sense floating up there.” He cooed, thumbing the rest she couldn’t get over the rest of her chin and rubbing it into the skin.
There was a pause, his eyes softening for a moment as he checked in. “My messy baby. Are you sure you can handle it? Y’know I adore you.” He pressed a soft kiss to her wet mouth, a direct contrast to his previous actions. “You’re my girl but… I’m gonna be mean to you. You know how to get me to stop, yeah?” It had to be abundantly clear. There wouldn't be unnecessary risks of losing her trust.
Bunny nodded her head, not wanting to risk speaking and making him unnecessarily angry. Just one word, that’s all it would take for him to stop. She decided to take his word for it and behave while she was still grounded in reality, god knows what she’s getting herself into when she was drunk on him and his cock. He’d given her a taste of it last time, blown her expectations out of the water, but she was his greedy girl after all.
His actions had shaken her up just enough for wetness to start pooling in her panties. She loved seeing him in this state, it was so animalistic. He was only focused on one thing and that was pleasure— in this case, his own. She would happily give herself to him a million times over if this meant he could get it out of his system. If it was anything like before she knew she’d enjoy it.
He’d never been mean to her before, it would definitely be a new feeling. However, it was all in the name of sex. Sex makes you say all sorts of things, it’s part of its nature. It’s a connection people can’t properly put into words. Bunny was eager to explore their connection even further and prove their trust.
“That’s a good girl.” He sighed, stroking over her hair before wrapping it around his fist. “Come.”
There was no other option- but Y/N didn’t mind. She followed, relishing in the slight prickling pain on her scalp as he stayed true to his word and led her like a naughty pup over to the bed.
“You’re such a nice girl. It really is such a shock to me that you love acting like a depraved whore.” He said with a chuckle. “Y’know, I thought… the first time we saw each other again, you were so sweet looking. Grown up, not a little girl, but sweet. That big smile and sparkling pretty eyes, bouncing on your feet. And then, later in the night… you crawled up on my lap. Tried to tempt me, with your brother just feet away. That’s when I knew there had to be something with you. Something that made you dirty, just like me.”
He undid his belt with his free hand, the sound of the leather snapping out of the belt loops making her whimper. His start was intense, intently on her eyes as he released her hair. “Wrists in front of you.”
There was no second request. She did it quickly, letting herself feel the warm leather wrap snugly around her wrists and through them. There was a shot of jealousy when she realized she was not the only one he had done this to. No- Harry must have done this dozens of times because of how well he did it, but she kept her mouth shut as he secured her.
“There.” One last tug and she was secure enough to not escape, but easy enough for Harry to be able to undo it quickly. “What a fucking vision you are, darling. Look at you.” His voice aired out, walking in a circle around her. Reaching into his pocket, he steadied himself behind her. His nose brushed her neck, inhaling the scent of her. This was enough to get him drunk. The perfume, her soap, the scent that could only be her…. Biting down on the flesh in a nip to make her yelp.
“Too good. Too fucking good for me, and yet…. You let me do such filthy things to you. I wonder what everyone would think if they knew how eager you were to get my cock in your mouth. So quickly after we agreed I’d be your boyfriend… taunting me. Almost crying because I didn’t give you my cum. And now? Now you want it dripping down your thighs.”
There was a metallic slice in the air, Bunny stiffening as she felt cool metal brush her chest. The flag of his pocket knife. “If they knew you shivered in anticipation while having a knife held to you. You know how nasty you’ve got to be, darling?” He laughed, the heat of it making her shiver again. “Oh, that’s why you’re so perfect for me, little Bunny.”
She gasped as he sliced through the upper part of her top in a swift motion, using his hands to rip the rest off. “But what good is having a beautiful slut at my beck and call if she’s clothed?”
The anticipation was killing her, all her senses heightened. She’d been waiting for him to bring the knife out again, but the unexpected action had her feeling warm. There was something that washed over her, a feeling reminiscent of embarrassment but was much more pleasurable. Sitting there exposed to him, clothes cut, unable to move her hands. The danger of it all was too appealing, Harry played the part well. Though, he wasn’t playing at all.
Harry noticed her breathing pick up, the way her chest was heaving made his cock stir in his jeans. He let the blade of the knife trace down her denim-clad leg, teasing her with the sensation before the tip met the zipper. “I bet you’re soaked under these, my perfect whore. Always ready for me to stuff you.” He was debating cutting the jeans off of her but decided against it, using one hand to unbutton them and pull them down.
Harry wasted no time in slicing her panties off, a dark laugh leaving his lips at her gasp. “Always liked that move, hm? Filthy slut. Open.” He commanded, waiting for her jaw to drop down before stuffing her mouth full of her panties. “Don’t trust you to stay quiet so I think this will do.”
It was degrading, absolutely, but there was just something about the way Harry could make it feel good. The humiliation swam in her stomach pooling down to her cunt, the damp spot on the fabric pressed against her tongue.
“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” He ran the cold metal over her thighs, over her mound ever so carefully to get it wet before moving in front of her. His eyes were dark, tongue licking up the flat of the blade and groaning at the taste. “Yeah. You can see why I love being parked right between these gorgeous thighs. If you weren’t such a baby, you’d stop complaining about being over-sensitive and let me lick you up. But…” he tossed the knife to the side. “I think….” His hand pushed her to fall on the bed. “It’s time for a proper taste. I’ve got you gagged, bound… I can lick you up, and prepare you for my cock. How does that sound?” He turned his back towards her to the drawer beside the bed, where he had left the cleaned and unpackaged toys. “Oh, that’s right. Y’can’t reply.” The snarky reply somehow left her feeling a bit more hot. How did he manage that?
“Gonna make you so sensitive, and you’re just going to lay there and take it. You loved being my fucktoy last time, so let’s see.” Standing between her legs, he tugged her by the ankles toward the end of the bed while he ignored her muffled squeak.  “Three kicks with your foot if it’s too much. Otherwise? Don’t complain.” Establishing a safe system was imperative regardless of verbal ability.
Bunny felt her cunt throbbing but resisted the urge to squeeze her thighs together. It wouldn’t do her any good, not when Harry was standing there looking down at her cunt as if it was his first and last meal all at once. He took his sweet time, picking up one of her legs so he could kiss and bite his way down to her core.  He loved the way she reacted to him, her sensitivity made him crave her that much more. Her scent had him forgetting what he had initially planned to do, eyes zeroing in on her puffy slick folds. Harry’s hands gripped around her thighs, lowering himself till he was kneeling on the floor.
With the panties gagging her, Bunny assumed her moans would be silenced. Instead, she was met with muffled sounds that only elevated the feeling of Harry’s tongue lapping her up. It was an erotic blend, the sound of slurping and sucking making her legs twitch. He was so good at this. Creating environments built to break her down little by little.
He was relentless.
Of course that was a given, but it seemed he was even more desperate tonight to get her, to get every bit of her slick on his tongue and she couldn’t keep quiet, even with her gag. He wasn’t holding back, licking up from her entrance to her clit before spitting back down and using his hand to gently smack over her.
When she squealed, Harry’s wet mouth grinned, filthy promise written in his eyes as he smacked harder over her clit and watched her hips buck up. “Slut for pain. Like when I do that to you?” He shook his head, picking up the toy and dragging up her wet folds. “I hope that extends to some overstimulation. I want you to cry for me today. Good tears. Tears only I can ever get out of you.”
Turning it on he felt her jump, the lower setting making her squirm as he situated it right on her clit whilst his finger slipped into her cunt. “Drooling little hole you’ve got… you’re lucky you love this so much. It’s going to make it far easier for us when I’m fucking you.”
The woman’s breathing was staggered, her stomach clenching at the tension he was creating. It hurt so good, the burn paired with a deep lull of pleasure creeping throughout her body. The gentle vibration of the toy was tormenting her, if only he had turned it up even just one degree she swore it wouldn’t be as agonizing as this.
Whimpers managed to push through the fabric lodged in her mouth, her thighs twitching in his grasp. She was trying her best not to squirm, breathing heavily through her nose as she mentally coached herself through the pleasure. Her cunt squeezed around his fingers, desperate to be filled by his cock once again. He said he was being mean, there would be no point begging. She did tell him he could do what he wanted. Bunny would be good.
“What a perfect fucking whore, I can feel you squeezing me. Want more?” Harry mocked, rubbing the pads of his fingers over her precious g-spot. He was slow with the movements, coaxing more of those delicious little moans out of her. “Should’ve known you could take it— don’t you dare cum before I say so.” He didn’t want to stop touching her, he intended to flood her senses for a good while before giving her her first of many orgasms.
Harry clicked the toy up a speed, chuckling darkly at the way her body jolted. “So sensitive, so greedy…” He just about growled into her thigh, teeth sinking into the skin enough to satisfy him. The man could tell she was gone, but he didn’t want to stop it. Not when she was taking it so well, not when she so clearly wanted more.
She yelped against the fabric, body jerking as his teeth marked her. He hadn’t been joking when he had said he was going to go for it. While he’s bitten her before, this one was a claiming one. Dark and hard and a promise of more, making her drip for him.
“So-ee.” The poor attempt of ‘Sorry’ was muffled through a gag, apologizing from her jolt. His eyes glazed up at her, shaking his head but continuing his slight torture.
Harry loved to see her wet like this. To see the wet juices of her cunt coat his fingers and drip down her folds, all the way down to her ass. Soon enough it would mark the bedcover, and he couldn’t wait for that. His cock was aching, pulsing in his briefs but he was satisfying a different urge.
“Sorry? Mm… Slutty thing is sorry she can’t take a bite. What are we going to do with you?” Adding another finger, her legs twitched as her toes curled, the sloshing, wet sound of them fucking into her the music he needed to hear to his ears. “Don’t fucking cum.” He warned, pressing the vibrator harder against her clit. “Don’t do it. I know you’ve got a filthy set of holes back here, but have some self control.” He could feel it, the beginnings of clenches around his fingers and her thighs trembling as she began to protest behind the gag.
She almost did it. The pain had buzzed on to pleasure as his joined fingers curled right against a spot that had her stomach jumping, but he could tell. Immediately, her muddled moans were disrupted by a screech. His hand yanked away the toy, his fingers pulling out and the wet palm of his hand coming rough roughly onto her cunt.
“What did I say? Did I not just fucking tell you to hold it? You were going to do it anyway.” Again, his hand came down right over her clit, the sharp sting making her writhe under him.  Again. And again. The stringing of slaps to her most intimate area hurt, but they felt good. So good, and Bunny could feel tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.
With a glare, Harry’s fingers pulled her spit soaked panties from her mouth and held her jaw roughly, speaking to her through a cruel smile. “Does it hurt too bad?” He cooed, shaking her head back and forth before he narrowed his eyes. “Or…Did you like that? Did my pretty little pain slut like having her cunt smacked around?” He asked, wiping his wet fingers on her cheek. Y/N was stupified, eyes wide and wet and mouth open as she tried to find the words. “Yes or no, Bunny. Use those words. Or did Daddy take them away from you so quickly?”
“Yes, I liked it, Daddy.” Bunny could feel her face heating up as she breathed out her answer. Admitting it to him always made her feel so shy, even more so than being spread out like this. Her body belonged to him, she never wanted to hide from him after the first time. But saying she liked his twisted methods of domination was another story.  She used all the strength she had to hold herself up, using this opportunity to take in his expression. His face was wet—covered in her arousal, and his eyes were dark with pure lust. Primal desire, he couldn’t help himself. Every bit of her struggle to manage the immense pleasure sent him further into the headspace. He swore he could swallow her whole if she’d let him.
“Yeah? You like it, gorgeous?” Harry cooed, noticing the floaty look in her eyes. She was just as far gone as he was, he was glad she had convinced him to give in. His perfect girl, she really could take it.
“I do... I do, I love it.” She mewled, seeking his approval as she looked at him with glassy eyes and pouty lips. “Love e-everything you do to me. I want to make you happy.”
Harry felt that tiny bit of softness leak through the primitive layer, making him pet over her face softly before it melted away. She was dazed, looking like a baby deer- his helpless little Bunny. “I know you do. I could do anything I wanted and you’d thank me for it.” He sighed, shaking his head before pressing his lips to hers. A hint of softness before he had her.
“I could take this little toy….” He took the vibrator, switching it back on to a higher setting and placing it on her clit as he loomed over her shivering body, her mouth open and wet as she took uneven inhales. “And I could tape it to you. I could keep this little thing connected to your poor little clit and make you cum over and over for me until you can’t take it. And you’d thank me.��
A tear dripped down her cheek as she tried to hold back, the orgasm quickly rising as he had found the perfect spot, the perfect pace. “H-sir, sir- please let me cum, please, please, please.” She wrung her hands in the belt, the bite of the leather making her moan. “I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it, I wanna be good-“
And then, it was gone. A sob left her throat, frustration raising as Harry’s smirking face was her only vision.
“That was a cute beg. I liked it.” His smile resembled a wolf. Hunting her down, playing with his food. “Let’s try it again.”
Edging.
“No, no, no— Please!” Bunny cried, thrashing slightly in disapproval. “Please, please, please, please—“
Smack.
“Quiet,” Harry commanded, his voice stern as his hand roughly gripped her face. With furrowed brows he stared down at her, daring her to look away. “You were doing so well, what happened?” He kissed his teeth, dropping her from his grip. “If you want to cum you have to listen to me, brat.” He was testing his own patience. Hearing her beg was a weakness of his, but he wanted to prove a point.
Bunny simply nodded, bottom lip quivering for a moment. She wanted to cum so bad she could cry, the smack he placed across her cheek only fueling the fire in her core. “I’m sorry, sir.” She squeaked, blinking away her needy tears in hopes that he would touch her.
“Can I have a kiss? Please.” Her voice changed momentarily, needing him to ground her and remind her that she was doing well despite his harshness.
It was a moment of clarity, her shaky voice bleeding into a slightly unsure tone that had him softening up nearly immediately. It was good to know that his body truly could tell a difference. His fingers stroked her cheek where he had smacked, eyes gentle as he tipped her chin up and pressed their lips together for a loving kiss. “Doing so well for me. Can’t believe how well you’re taking this.” He murmured against her lips. “You’re okay?” The last thing he wanted to do was upset her seriously.
Thankfully she nodded, puckering her lips for a few more kisses which he readily gave to her before he could sense her melting back into position. “There. Good girl. Just tell me if you need me to stop, you know the safe word.” He gently tapped the tip of her nose before he let that dark mask take back over.
She was in awe of how he could do it. How he could be so loving and tender to her and then call her all the names in the book- and even more so because she loved it. Ate up every single piece of it
Without a word, he slipped his hand under her jaw to keep her eyes on him while the other flipped the vibrator back on. “You can cum this time. Then I think you’ll be nice and open for my dick. I want to see you be the pretty, needy little brat. Talk to me. Because as soon as I’m inside you, you’re not going to be able to.” He nudged their noses together. “Because you get so dumb on my cock. I love every bit of it. But someone’s got to remind you who you belong to.”
She belonged to him.
Everyone in this hotel would know that by the end of the night, Harry would make sure of it. Granting her permission to make noise, he knew there was no reason for her to hold back. He himself was tired of the muffled sounds, he wanted to hear her loud and clear.
“Thank you, sir, I-aH” Bunny’s breath hitched, relaxing into the feeling with a low whine. He had started it off deliciously slow again, though the pain from his previous torment had built up. She was sensitive.
“Just wanna cum, wanna show you how good you make me feel.” Bunny’s hands instinctually went to cup her tits but forgot about her bound wrists. She cursed him in her head, quickly losing herself in the pleasure as he turned the toy up another speed.
“Please slap my tits, want you to bite me again— I wanna cum for you over and over and over like you said, sir.” She was gone, far gone.  “I’m your good girl, I promise.”
Harry loved this. He loved every bit of it.
This woman called to every single part of him, making him feel slightly feral as she spoke. This was his best friend’s little sister, the woman he was supposed to protect, and yet she was here telling him to slap her tits, bite her, to make her cum. It was wrong in many senses of the word but Harry had found that part of that made it feel even better.
He growled under his breath, doing exactly as he wanted. “That’s what I wanted.” He chuckled, slapping her bare breast before pinching her nipple. The noise that came from her swollen mouth was unlike what he’d heard before, but it continued when he pulled on it. It was visible in her face, she was wrecked already and he wanted to get her there. Make her babble again, her shaking legs struggling to stay open as he leaned down to bite right on the swell of her breast.
Bunny let out another desperate mewl, the bite hurting so fucking good she was close to seeing stars. “Please, please, I’m a good girl. I’m a good girl for you, I’m yours, keep biting me- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna….” Her frantic squeaks were paired with a dark noise from Harry’s throat, moving to her neck to bite down on the soft curve of her shoulder. As soon as his teeth dug in, she lost it.
The vibrations, the pain of them, his fingers twisting and pinching her breast, the perfect mixture to make her cum. A wail left her plushy mouth as Harry rutted slightly against her thigh, pulling his teeth away to watch her face scrunch in pleasure.
She could feel pins and needles in her legs, crying as she came. The work up to the orgasm, the restraint, his closeness, she was greedy and got one of her wishes.
Bunny sighed in satisfaction, her body convulsing as she rode out the orgasm. “Fuck! Ah-“ She hissed, finally feeling the buzzing of the vibrator on her clit. It seemed that Harry wasn’t satisfied with just the one. “It hurts, Daddy.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him to turn it off though.
“Shh, give it a few moments, pet…” Harry mumbled against her skin, knowing if she waited long enough the pain would turn to pleasure. It took a few more moments and whines from her till he felt her hips buck up against the toy. “That’s it, give me another one like the greedy little whore you are.” He let his mouth move back down to her chest, sucking at the skin before finding another perfect patch to bite.
Her skin was so warm and smooth against him, though he was starting to get annoyed at the layers he still had on. He hadn’t even bothered to rid himself of his clothes, getting carried away in the moment. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of her either.
“Can I? Fuck— can I cum again? It feels so good, can I, can I, can I—“ Bunny’s breathing was picking up again, eyes squeezing shut as if that would stop the quickly building climax from ripping through her. “I can’t hold it, please say yes, please—”
Pulling off her nipple, his hand smacked against her breast before he barked out the order.
“Cum.”
She felt like she wasn’t in her own body, on her way out. Halfway in. She was hot, sweat on her brow as she shuddered under him. It was fuzzy, her eyes clenching shut as her mouth opened in a silent screech.
Harry loved watching her cum. How her body arched, how she shook, her jaw clenching and her chest heaving. He was going to make sure he could keep this vision exclusively his for the rest of his life.
“That’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” He praised, laughing in disbelief as he felt her gush a little on his hand that held the toy. Messy, wet, everything he had been going for. He knew when it was starting to get too much, her squirm and whine signaling him for the right moment to stop. Pulling it off, he tossed it to the side and pressed their lips together, peppering filthy praises between the kisses.
“My fucking girl. So pretty when you cum for me. You drive me crazy. I’m so obsessed with you.” He panted, pulling back and taking her bound hands, and untying the belt off of her wrists.  They looked a little irritated, making him take a second to stroke over them and bring them together to kiss the irritated skin. “M’not sorry, precious. You loved it.”
He was quick to dispose of the rest of his clothes, kicking them whenever they landed. He just wanted her. She was boneless on the bed, his gorgeous woman, panting as she looked at him with wet cheeks and clenched thighs he had to pry back open.
“C’mon,Baby. Up.” He lifted her towards the top of the bed. settling her onto the pillows, her hair haloed across the linen pillowcases, her bitten lips plump and dark, cheeks wet with her tears from the pleasure. His angelic picture with a frame sent from hell.
“You can touch me now, but I need to be inside of you.”
“I want you,“ Bunny’s hands immediately flew up to his hair, tugging at the roots with vigor. She had been itching to do it since the minute his tongue swiped over her clit, her grip so tight she swore her knuckles were white. “Inside. Right now.” She was still breathless, lifting her head to connect their lips once again.
She loved to kiss him. She would be happy just kissing him forever, but why would she want to when he could fuck her like this? “You’re so hot,” She whined against him, “please put your cock in me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Bunny let one of her hands trail down his back, nails digging into the skin to inflict a bit of pain and emphasize her words. She needed his cock. “Call me greedy, I don’t care, I want it so bad— I wanna make a mess all over you. Want to feel you,” She trailed off, her eyes glazed over with desire. Her hand moved to grab his, placing it over the softest part of her belly. “Here.”
He had definitely broken her a bit. That shy, soft spoken spirit with a hint of tease had gone full blown need, showing her hand as she broke,  egging him for it. Whining. She liked to be manhandled, she liked how regardless of his rough actions he took time to praise and check in and it drove her mad.
His hand flexed on her stomach, a fire flaring through his body.  His Bunny begging him for it, not a hint of hesitation- it did something for him. A new wick lit inside, engulfing the rest of him in flames.  It triggered a thought. One that would have repulsed him had it been quite literally anyone else…but the girl under him had a way of making him completely and utterly ruin any walls he had up. Rubble on the pavement.
He obliged, settling between her legs and brushing the dripping, ruddy tip of his engorged cock through her slick and puffy lips. It was so easy to get wet enough, wasting little time as he began to push in.
“Then take it.” He whispered, sliding his hand under her neck to hold her there. Right at the nape, eyes watching as hers watered at the stretch. “You want me in your belly, baby? Want to be full of me?” Lips brushed hers. “You are such a needy, desperate little bitch. Y’know that? I adore every part of it. Makes me even more glad that you’re mine… but…” he hissed as she welcomed him in, finding his home deep seated in her cunt with his balls up against her ass. “When you do things like that, makes me want to breed you.” Their mingled breathing paused as Bunny’s caught in her throat. “Ought t’knock you up. Keep you full….. because you’re mine. You know it… but the world should know too, shouldn’t it? Should know *exactly* who you belong to.”
Y/N whined, wide eyed looking at him as her body reacted to the ultra possessive claim. He’s always been a domineering man, but something about such a permanent claim had them both hot. It would be the worst timing, but her legs tightened around him to keep him close.
“Please.” The bleated word hit his lips. “I- yes. Yes. I want it, I want you in my belly. Please do it.”
Harry snickered at her pleading, feeling his cock grow impossibly heavy inside her. She was begging for his load, to have his child. Part of him knew she was just spacey, but he decided he’d let himself imagine she truly meant it for the moment. Would hurt right?
“Asking so nicely, like a good little slut.” He purred, the same feral smile returning to his face. His hips pulled back only to snap back inside her with a guttural moan leaving his throat. “Fucking love your cunt,” He set a slow pace for himself, wanting to meld his cock into every part of her walls. “Think I could spend days inside of you and still never get enough…. And you’re squeezing me so tight, you still aren’t satisfied?”
“No, too slow.” Bunny breathed, at her wit's end. Feeling full of him wasn’t cutting it in this state, she was feigning. Her hips bucked up on her own, her back arching to lean further into him. Her bratty self wasn’t taking too well to this position. He was still going easy on her. “Don’t tease me anymore, know you want to fuck me stupid. Make me hurt. Show me how you want it.”
What she hadn’t expected, though, was the sting in her scalp as he gripped her hair and kept her face still as he filled her to the brim, stopping the thrusts.
No. No, she needed more.
“I think you forget who’s in charge here.” He snarled. “No matter how good your cunt is, I’m the one who owns it. Making demands?” He laughed through his nose. “I’ll do as I damn well please.” His cock pulled back out to the tip before slamming back in, making the bed lurch and hit the wall.
She swore she saw stars, a scream leaving her lips as he repeated it again. Deep, so fucking deep that she didn’t know what to do with herself.
“Where did my good whore go? I love that beg but-“ he gave another devastating thrust, making her pant, nails digging into his back roughly. “You turned into a brat. Lucky I need to empty my balls and you’ve got a perfect hole for it, or I’d take it away from you.”
Her grip was strong enough to break skin, nails clawing down the length of his back with primal need.
Harry groaned at the feeling, the burn adding to his arousal. He liked the pain she was inflicting upon him but needed to be closer, deeper.
Without much of a warning, he pulled out and flipped her around, slamming back into her with such force the bed frame smacked against the wall again.
“No more words, Princess? Already gone dumb on my cock?” Harry couldn’t stop his hips from pistoning in and out of her with force. The feeling of her milking him was far too good, he’d teased himself enough and it was time to give in. “Take it. Every, last, bit.” His voice grew dark, pushing himself up off of her so he could take in his view.
Beautiful supple skin ready to be marked in any way he pleased. Her ass was something he couldn’t resist. “Wanted to plug you up today, make you squirm till you begged for me to fill both of your holes.” Thwack. Harry paused to admire the trace left over on her skin. “I couldn’t wait. I knew you couldn’t either— filthy little slut. You’re dripping f’me.” He smirked, placing another heavy handed smack on the opposite cheek.
She didn’t know how good it would feel.
There had been a feeling. With how he had smacked her before, how he had held her a bit rough. She knew that she liked pain and liked to see him in a darker, dominant headspace- but she hadn’t expected to feel the stinging prickles on her cheek and have it travel down to her cunt, showing clearly now as he fucked into her. His smacks had made her moan, the garbled noise fueling him further. His fingers brushed over her hot skin gently and massaged the flesh as his cock pounded into her. A contrast to the heavy thrusts stealing her breath and the slamming of the headboard into the wall behind them.
“Fu-uck. I can’t- I….” She choked on her words as he shifted, one leg over her hip while he stayed between his thighs with the other one. Her ass was spread open with his hand, thumb pressing into her hole as she squealed and thrashed under him.
It was too much. Both her holes being filled, the jostling of her body, being tossed around with her face in the sheets, she came without permission. Screaming muffled into the fabric as her face was stained with sweat and tears, noises punched out of her as he didn’t let up.
If anything? It spurred him on.
The steady sound of the headboard smacking against the wall kept the two of them anchored in reality. They paid no mind to the slow cracking in the bed frame, instead, Harry found himself sinking deeper into a new headspace.
“Greedy girl,“ He growled lowly, his voice settling in the thick air of the room. The smell of sin was enough for him to feel high. “Can’t wait for permission?” Another smack reverberated throughout the room. “You‘ll give me another.” He demanded.
Bunny opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Unable to form a single sentence, she screamed while writhing beneath him. Everything felt fuzzy, her vision blurry, her body completely open. His words made her cunt clench, surprising herself with how much she could take. Her body was begging for more. Her head turned so she could catch her breath, attempting to stabilize herself with her grip on the sheets and mattress. It was no use.
“Knew you’d shut up.” Harry was feral. “Keep screaming, slut. This is exactly what you wanted wasn’t it?”
It was, it was exactly what the both of them wanted- and they wouldn’t be stopping.
Not until it was 3 in the morning, the bed had broken, and their muscles ached.
And a hole in the wall from the bed frame- but that would be a problem for when they woke up. So would Harry’s raised and bleeding scratch marks, the bruising on Y/N’s hips and wrists, the lack of voice she was going to have from screaming when he hit it just right- but that was tomorrow’s problem. Right now, it was time to relish in their unfiltered, unadulterated passion.
Who knew when they’d get this opportunity again?
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A Life Worth Living (one-shot)
Synopsis: As sickness creeps closer in taking her life, Y/N has come to make her final amends. Though the Astarion she fell for no longer exists, even the cold clutch of absolute power can't match true love.
This is sort of an AU! because in truth, Ascended Astarion would not give a single shit if you've left him at this point, sorry :D I just had to get this out of my head
Pairing: Ascended Astarion x fem!Reader; Astarion x fem!Reader
Genre: angst, fluff
Warnings: talks of sickness (not specified), dying, death, swearing etc. Minimally edited :)
Word count: 5115
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The day was much like any other in Baldur’s Gate – sunny without even a single wispy cloud in the sky, yet the Ancunin palace rose above all the rest like a beast in the night, drowning the houses in menacing shadows.
Matches, Y/N thought, to the person living inside.
Wrought iron gate surrounded the grounds, thorny rose vines looping through, while beautiful blooms opened towards the slowly moving star above.
This could’ve been her home, had she not said no. She shuddered to think what her life would’ve been like.
That had been almost five years ago. So much had changed during that time. It didn’t even feel like just half a decade had passed, it felt more like a century since Y/N had left Astarion. But she couldn’t stay with him. Not after he’d Ascended, completing the ritual he’d killed Cazador for, and became what he had always hated – a version of Cazador himself.
Her hand had barely touched the handle of the gates before it swung open on its own accord. Y/N shouldn’t be surprised by it, not with how much magic she’d seen and experienced during her travels, but still, such small things made their impact. Whether it was an invitation inside, or a trap only time would tell.
She didn’t have much of it, which is why she was there in the first place. Had that cursed sickness not been slowly taking over her body, eating away at it, cell by cell, Y/N would have dragged this final meeting with Astarion as far in the future as she could, but there were still friends she wanted to visit, places to see, no matter how limited her life had become.
With thinly veiled amazement, because she didn’t want to marvel at what surely was slave work, she walked down the gravel path towards the large double doors of the mansion, looking at the meticulously groomed gardens. Not even a single leaf was out of place. A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. Where once she would’ve believed Astarion to be the one to care for these plants, now Y/N knew in her heart, he’d never stoop so low as to even get on one knee to prune a rose. Such a thing was below him nowadays. Let alone sleeping next to her on a bedroll.
When she stood face to face with the large carved oak doors, her heart picked up its rhythm. She couldn’t help it, as years of memories, of love won and lost, rushed through her mind. Slowly, she raised her hand to knock.
It took about half a minute for the doors to open, an unfamiliar face staring back at her.
A vampire spawn, eyes red and glowing, looking at her with a cocked head.
“Can I help you?” he asked, giving her an appraising glance.
 Y/N let out a breath. “I’m here to see Astarion.”
“Master Ancunin is not taking any visitors. Not without a previous notice,” he said it almost with a sneer, but she just gave him a smile.
“Tell him an old friend has stopped by. From the times before.”
The vampire looked ready to scoff and throw the door closed in her face, but stopped as he was closing it, a recollection of something flashing across his features. Whether he recognised her as a hero of Baldur’s Gate, or maybe he recognised her from a story Astarion might’ve told didn’t matter, because whatever it was, hopefully would grant her this one meeting.
With that though, Y/N was left to wait outside, pretty much twiddling her thumbs. Astarion probably wouldn’t take it too kindly if she went and took a bloom, though it used to be something he did for her. He used to do so much for her…
About five minutes later, the same spawn appeared, opening the door and motioning for her to enter.
“Master Ancunin will be with you shortly.”
And once again, she was left awing at the hallway, this time completely alone. She guessed no one saw her as a threat, despite the fact she had felled many enemies, including the Absolute. But oh well. At least she didn’t have to awkwardly stand with a guard or something, trying to figure out what small talk to fill the silence with. This gave her a chance to have a look at her surroundings.
A grand staircase, looping up to both sides, stood in front of her, while the palace spiralled away to the right and left. The entrance itself was almost like a ballroom, and she was sure, Astarion had at least one, if not more. What would those look like? What would a ball itself in the Ancunin residence look like? Would there be dancing and singing? Would people be laughing?
She couldn’t imagine it. Not with how he had degraded her after Ascending, telling her to kneel, telling her he’d turn her into a spawn, not because he wanted to spend the rest of their eternities together, but because of the control he now wished to exert over her.
A vision of herself, a blood-red gown, her eyes matching the velvet he’d no doubt dress her in, flashed across her mind. And a beautiful pearl necklace cinched tightly, two large bite marks across the slant of the skin. A collar disguised as gems to tether her to him. One large gilded cage to keep her in.
“Well, well, well… if it isn’t my darling, crawling back home.”
Astarion stood at the top of the staircase landing, bringing Y/N out of her pondering.
He was a vision, as he always had been, but now, were vulnerability and love had shone in his eyes, only wry amusement and cruelty were left in their place.
His steps echoed across the empty house as he made his way down, not taking his gaze away from her. Y/N could imagine how she looked to him – covered in dirt and dust from weeks of traveling, eyes hollowed by dark circles and hair a complete mess, skin cracked around her lips, its colour dull. Compared to his meticulously coifed locks, the intricate frock and trousers, and even his gem-covered boots, she was a disaster.
Despite the pain in her heart, Y/N managed a smile. “You look good, Astarion.”
He scoffed, coming to stand before her. “Of course, I look good. I always did. You just didn’t appreciate it. Have you come back to beg? I do like a bit of grovelling. Though after what you did, there might be more you have to do than just plead for me to take you back.”
She chuckled, shaking her head and looped her arm through his elbow, undoubtedly surprising him, as she took charge and led them to the left, no idea where the hallway was going to bring her to, otherwise she might start crying. “Tell me everything Astarion. I want to know how you’ve faired these past five years.”
Her nonchalance, her whole attitude had completely stunned him, something Y/N didn’t think she was capable of, but maybe it was good. Without having knocked him off balance a bit, he might’ve just turned her away, but she needed this conversation. This closure before the sickness took her.
Together they walked inside what turned out to be a dining room. Did he even need one? He didn’t eat human food, even though he was Ascended now, and could enjoy the tastes.
“I have to say,” he started, “I did not expect to see you again.”
Y/N sighed, looking at the paintings hung along the walls, at the gleaming chandeliers above. “Believe me, I did not expect to come either.”
“Then why are you here? If not to apologise for what you did, why bother wasting my time?”
The words stung, but she wasn’t going to tell him the real reason. It wouldn’t matter to him anyway. He told her he wished she died screaming, and though that might still be a possibility, it was more likely she would simply go to sleep one night and never wake up. “Because, although I do not believe I have anything to apologise for, I did wish to make amends. Life for us mortals, is so short… and the thought of living the rest of mine, without at least having tried, seemed… wrong.”
Astarion scoffed, but she could feel him tightening his elbow, as if he didn’t want her hand to slip from the crook it rested in. “I will not apologise for my decisions.”
“I am not asking you to,” Y/N said. “I simply wish for us to become friends once more. If only for the sake of sentimentality.”
“Sentiment,” Astarion sneered. “But what else can I expect from such a creature as a human.”
Y/N let out an amused huff, pressing down the real impact it left on her heart. He knew right where to cut, because when they’d been together during the tadpole adventure, she’d laid her soul bare to him. Told him all about her fears and hopes, how much of a hopeless romantic she was, so now, to tell her it was foolish to try and rekindle if only a friendship, was stupid… but she hadn’t expected more from this version of Astarion.
He’d already given much more time than she’d expected. Half of her had thought when the spawn would tell him who was at the door, he would take the chance and fulfil his words by killing her himself.
Absolute power corrupts absolutely. It’s what she’d told him when she’d tried to talk him out of the ritual. How he would be condemning seven thousand other lives. But he hadn’t cared. Astarion had believed he deserved the power, deserved to complete what Cazador couldn’t. Y/N couldn’t stand by and watch, nor would her conscience allow her to be by his side.
And so she’d left. Because there was nothing left of the man she’d fallen in love with. For these five years after, she’d avoided Baldur’s Gate, hearing from whispers and gossip how he’d risen in the ranks of politics and society, how brutal he could be to his servants and those who stood in his way, almost reminding her of when he’d talked about his Magistrate days, only amped to a hundred. A new, sickening Cazador at the helm.
“But how have you been, darling?” Astarion almost sounded bored as they moved into what passed for a living room in this palace, Y/N assumed. “What shenanigans have you caused?”
And so she told him. As a servant spawn brought a tea-set laying out two cups, though Astarion didn’t even pick his up, Y/N recounted how she’d gone all across the Sword Coast, had travelled over the seas and seen knew lands. How she’d done the things he’d promised they would do together.
“Sounds rather… dull,” he commented, lounging on the seat. “But I suppose to such simple minds and hearts as yours, it’s all very exciting and enthralling.”
She wanted to snap at him, remind how half of the ideas she’d completed, had been his, but instead, Y/N just took a deep breath. “Have you finally gotten everything you wanted, Astarion?” she asked instead. “Are you finally happy?”
That had been the true question plaguing her mind these past years.
He turned to look at her, eyes blazing. “I have power, status, people bow to my every whim. What more could I possibly want?”
“Then I’m happy for you,” she said, setting down her half-drunk tea. “Even if it means nothing to you anymore, I am happy you’ve finally gotten what you wished.”
An awkward silence settled between the two, and Y/N took it as her cue to wrap things up. “I best take my leave.”
“And where will you possibly go?” he sneered, but stood up alongside her, making their way back to the grand oak doors.
“Karlach and I are meeting up at a local tavern. And then we’re all going to the get together at Wyll’s. You would know that, had you come to the party Wither’s invited us all to.”
“And waste my time?” he scoffed. “No thanks. This conversation has done enough of that.”
By now they were at the doors, and Y/N turned around, taking in her final fill of the vampire. No doubt this would be the last time she ever saw him. “I hope you have a good life, Astarion. You deserve it. Despite how things went down between us, I do wish all the best for you.”
Slowly, she leaned up and pressed a kiss against his cheek. It was cold, but not as cold as she had been used to. No doubt he used every opportunity to lazy out in the sun, or feed on someone.
Just as she was about to exit, he grabbed her by the wrist, his hold tight and not something she’d be able to break out of.
Astarion’s scarlet eyes narrowed in on her, pulling her closer to him.
Y/N’s heart spiked. Was he really still that hurt, he would finally cash in on that revenge? She knew she would never be able to hurt him. No matter what, that romantic heart of hers would betray her.
He snapped her to his chest, her breath hitching in her lungs, as he leaned down by her neck and inhaled. Her frame was ramrod straight, not daring to move a muscle. When he finally moved back, anger and something else raged in his eyes. Was it… fear?
“Now, my dear, tell me the real reason you came here.”
“I -,”
“And don’t lie,” he hissed. “Because I can smell it on you. In your blood.”
“Smell what?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Death.” And Y/N had to be hallucinating, because she was sure she heard his voice crack. “Sickness and death runs through your veins. It’s – it’s like acid.”
“What’s it matter, Astarion? What would any of it change?”
“It would chan-,” but he stopped himself.
Y/N leaned a bit closer, her Y/E/C eyes narrowed, trying to decipher what she was seeing on that stony face, but pulled back, shaking her head. “Maybe you will finally get your wish and I will die screaming.”
By the look on his face, she understood Astarion did not appreciate the comment. “You dare enter my home, under the pretences of lies and deceit,” but his vile words didn’t match what she could see brewing underneath – despair. If only she was still naïve enough to believe he felt anything else but contempt for her. “I deserve to know the truth.”
“But you do know it.” Y/N shrugged. “So I’m going to ask you once again – what does the knowledge that I am dying, change? I would still die someday. Whether it is in a week or in half a century, I would still die. What’s it matter?”
“Had you not been stupid, and accepted my offer of becoming a spawn, you wouldn’t be in this mess,” Astarion spit, but didn’t release his grip.
“I did not come here to ask you to change me.” She placed her hand against where his heart should be beating, yet everything was still under her fingers. “I am not afraid of death. I am not happy its coming for me so quickly, but I would rather have my life end now, than live as a spawn.”
Hurt crossed his face. “Would living with me really be so repulsive to you?”
“Living as your slave would.” Y/N lifted her chin. “We would not be equals. You would never see me as the person I am, but rather as a thing to own. And I, for one, thought you would be the first person to understand why I would never choose such an option.”
This was not how she wanted them to part, but it seemed like it would once again leave them as enemies.
She pulled away from Astarion, and this time he let her.
“I hope one day you do understand my choices. Because as much as I disagree with yours, I have always accepted and understood them. Live Astarion, if only for yourself.”
Sunlight greeted her, as she opened the door, but she didn’t manage to put a single foot outside, when the vampire grabbed her by the nape of the neck, pulling her back in and slamming the door shut.
“I am sorry my dear, but that simply won’t do.”
Fear didn’t even get a chance to rush through her veins when everything went black.
It was a while before Y/N finally came to, but when she did, she was laid on a plush bed, body covered in a duvet, head resting against the softest pillow in the universe, and the sky outside was the violet of the setting day.
Horror struck her as her memories came to her – of Astarion pressing his palm against her nose and mouth, preventing her from breathing. Of how unconsciousness took over, while his red eyes glared at her fading form. But worse – the conversation they’d had right before that, about refusing to become a spawn.
Did he really hate her that much, he’d turn her against her will?
But instead of Astarion sitting in the room she found…
“Gale?” Y/N’s brow furrowed as she raised herself to her forearms on the mattress. “What are you doing here?”
“Ah, you’re awake.” The wizard stood with a smile, walking to sit beside her. “How are you feeling?” He pressed a palm against her forehead, checking the temperature, and hummed when he deemed it to be normal.
“Fine,” she mumbled. “But again – what are you doing here?”
“Astarion called.”
“Astarion?” Y/N was befuddled. She would’ve assumed Gale would be the last person ever he would contact, well, last except for her. Especially if he’d turned her into a spawn. No doubt would their friends come to battle if they heard such a thing. And yet Gale seemed perfectly content in the vampire’s castle.
“He sent such a panicked message, I portaled here as quickly as the Weave would allow and-,”
Gale was stopped mid-sentence as the door clicked open.
But the man standing in the doorway wasn’t the Astarion she’d known before, the man she had fallen head over heels in love with, or even the Ascended Astarion she’d spoken to that day. No. This Astarion had eyes as bright green as freshly grown grass, cheeks red and full of life and the blunt incisors of a human, hope and shame shining in his irises.
She whipped her head to Gale. “What in the name of all the Hells did you two do?”
“We saved your life,” the now ex-vampire entered the room, his movements slow as if Y/N was a deer he would startle if he did anything quicker than the pace of a snail. “And I paid the price for it.”
She swallowed hard. “And what exactly was the price?”
“My immortality.”
Now, Y/N assumed she’d been cured as she was inclined to believe not only because of Astarion’s transformation, but because Gale so meticulously was counting her breaths and heartbeat, but that confession almost did take her out, the shock of it all.
She threw a wary glance at the wizard. “So – so I’m not a spawn?”
“No,” Astarion shook his head. “But I don’t blame you for believing I would do such a… vile thing.”
Heavy silence settled in the room when she finally turned to look at him. “But I thought you had everything you ever wanted.”
“I did so too,” he nodded. “But when I smelled it, that – that sickness in your blood… I guess it is true what they say – love is the most powerful magic of all. Because the thought of you dying – it did something to my head… my heart. I could not let that happen.”
Y/N surveyed him, the new person standing before her. “You gave up everything for me. All the power… everything…”
“I won’t lie – I almost gave into the temptation, I almost did bite you. But these past five years were… miserable. And the thought of living the rest of eternity with the knowledge you hated me before you died… it wasn’t something I could do. Even with all the power in the world, the one weakness I have never been able to rid myself of is you.”
Neither noticed Gale clear his throat and motion towards the door, and neither noticed how it shut behind the wizard, leaving them on their own.
She watched as Astarion crossed the room, and sat himself down at the very foot of the bed, eyes locked onto the fingers in his lap. He was still as graceful as ever, but no longer was there this predatory supernatural sense to it. Now he was more a ballet dancer, than a stalking panther.
“So what happens now?”
“Now,” he sighed. “Now I don’t know. I didn’t really think further than Gale performing the ritual and hoping it would be enough.”
“Am I… immortal now?”
“No,” Astarion shook his head, and his smile was so warm, it almost knocked her back down to the bed. “You’re as human, as human can be. Only healthy now. Hopefully with many a decade before you yet to be lived.”
“And you?” she had to address the elephant in the room. “What exactly are you now?”
“I,” he sighed and looked at the wall. No, not the wall, but a large mirror, his eyes boring into the ones of his reflection. “I am what I was before Cazador. As common as a high elf can be.”
“I just don’t understand,” Y/N said. “I don’t get why you would do such a thing. Seven thousand spawn died for you to gain all that power, for you to prove you could complete what Cazador couldn’t. How could you just throw it all away?”
Astarion sighed, standing up and moving to the other side of the room where a large open door stood, leading out to a balcony. He leaned against the railing, and Y/N finally got out of the bed.
She could feel the strength having returned to her muscles. No longer did they ache, no longer did her bones scream, no longer did she feel tired and weak. A new zeal of life had filled her, and she couldn’t get why Astarion had given it all up for her to – what? Live maybe just a couple of more decades?
Together they leaned on the marble railing, overlooking the lush gardens, the flowers now a duller colour, but still as beautiful in moonlight, as they were in the sun.
“For five years I imagined what I would do if you showed up on my doorstep,” Astarion started. “There were times I imagined taking you and putting you in chains, dragging you to a dungeon and inflicting unspeakable pain, because that’s how it felt when you left. I wanted to do nothing but hurt you. And then I imagined how you would have come to your senses, how you would come and beg me to turn you into a spawn, finally realising your place was always beside me.”
He looked at her. “But then you did turn up. And all I could do was barely hold it together and not kiss you then and there. When you said you were dying, but that it would be a better life than with me, something… something cracked. Whether it was my sense coming back to me, the part of my brain that made good decisions being released from a prison of power, I don’t know.” Astarion chuckled. “But the only thing running through my head was – the one person that has always loved you selflessly, is dying. And you’re a pathetic coward that can’t do anything to stop it.”
“When Gale told me there was a way to heal you, but it would cost me, somehow I didn’t even pause to think. I just told him to do it. If the price for you being able to live a fulfilled life was having my power, my immortality stripped away, he could’ve for all I cared, spilled all my blood and let me bleed dry. As long as it meant you were here – living and breathing.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s what you would’ve done. And I couldn’t be bested by a dying woman. Would turn you into a full martyr, and I couldn’t have someone outshining me like that.”
Y/N wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, letting out a choked back laugh. “What was the ritual?”
“Apparently Gale had been looking at certain transfers of power for a while.” Astarion shrugged. “When I contacted him, I didn’t even have anything specific in mind, I just knew he would probably be the best at figuring out what, if anything, could be done. Of course, had the answer been negative, it would not have ended well for our dear wizard, but you understand my point.”
“Well, I am glad Gale is still in one piece.” Y/N looked at him as she slowly covered his palm with hers. Astarion’s breath hitched, when she intertwined their fingers. “And I am grateful to the both of you for what you did. But I will forever be in debted to you.”
“No,” Astarion shook his head, tightening his hold, as if terrified she’d slip away like sand. “There is no debt to be repaid. Actually, I think I should be the one thanking you. For showing up. For even thinking I was worth enough to say goodbye to, but I have to ask… Were you ever going to tell? Had I not smelled it on you, would you have ever told anyone? Because when I told Gale, he was so stunned, I almost thought he would join you and pass out.”
“No,” Y/N shook her head. “By the time I decided I had to see you at least once more before I… well, you know… I’d already met all of our friends individually. I had thought of asking Shadowheart if there was a spell maybe, but ultimately, no.”
“Why would you keep something like that to yourself?”
“I didn’t feel like burdening the others.” She shrugged her shoulders. “We’ve all gone through so much darkness, have so much else to worry about, I didn’t want to add more to that.”
“Surely you know those idiots would ride blindfolded into battle for you.”
“I do. But it’s not like I would want that. Besides… if those were to be my last days, I wanted them to be filled with joy and fun things. Not with Halsin worrying if such excitement was healthy for me, or Lae’Zel scolding me for certain decisions. And let’s not even mention Karlach who’d cross the world searching for a cure that might not even exist.”
“And you left me for last…”
Y/N bit down hard on her lip. “Because it took everything in me to get over the hurt. Get over what you did and said. Because I was terrified you would slam the door in my face if I showed up.”
A tear rolled down his own cheek, as he bit the inside of it. “A fair assumption. And maybe if you’d come earlier, I would have. But… deep down I knew, I would have done everything to try and make you stay. Even through the haze of that power… my heart has always been yours. And still is. If you will have it.”
The words coming out of her mouth hurt, but they had to be said, despite how ardently she wished to say yes and return to how things were. But she knew she couldn’t neither of them could. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Astarion.” She could see him visibly shrink down, tears now unabated as they flowed like rivers from his eye. He wanted to pull away, but she didn’t let him, holding onto his hand tighter, running a soothing thumb over his hand, so warm and alive under her touch, it made her sigh.
 “You’ve just regained yourself.” Y/N tried to give what was an endearing smile, but was probably more a grimace.  “You’ve just become an elf again… there is so much you need to grasp and realise… I don’t think a relationship is what would be good right now.”
Two green eyes met her Y/E/C ones. Gods, the colour was so gorgeous, she felt like drowning in his gaze. “The only thing I was ever sure of in my life was you. Even as an Ascended bastard. And then I blew it. Absolutely smashed my chance to pieces like an idiot, but… if you’ll allow it. I would like another try. If only at being someone worthy to stand by your side.”
Y/N felt her lips quirk up. “Would it be overtly presumptuous of me to think, that by the end of it, you would wish to be more than friends?”
“If I am only allowed to be your friends, I will fall to my knees before you and beg for the chance. But no longer will I lie and say my true intentions aren’t to hopefully, one day, get on one knee, and wish for a shared life.”
She had not seen such a version of Astarion, so candid and vulnerable, since leaving him. And for him to be so open, made some resolve in her melt a bit. “We can try. Slowly.”
It was like a boulder had rolled off Astarion’s chest, his whole body visibly shuddering in relief, before he tentatively, as if waiting for her rejection, weaved a hand around her waist.
She rested her head against his shoulder, revelling in the feeling of him pressing his cheek to the top of it. And when he tilted her chin up, a hopeful gaze in his eyes as it slipped to her lips, she didn’t stop him when he pressed his mouth to hers.
It was like surfacing for a breath after years of being pulled down in an abyss, something Y/N never thought she’d be able to do again. And that kiss – it was filled with so much love, she didn’t need oxygen to breathe.
There was still a world of hurt between then, a universe of making up to be done, but they had time. They had all the time they wanted or could need.
“To a new start, my love.” She muttered against his lips, and the smile Astarion gave her was more brilliant than the moon and stars shining in the sky combined.
“And to a life worth living.”
The next kiss they shared sure as hells was.
Tags:
Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird @omggiannarosa @poisonquinzell @iffazu @alisoncdariel
Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange
A/N: My tags are always open
Please don't repost onto other platforms! That is called plaigarism :)
I also had an idea of writing this from Astarion's POV, so if that is something of interest, do let me know :)
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draemgal · 2 months
Text
when you know, you know | azriel
warnings: domestic violence (not by azriel)
not proofread.
azriel sees everything. his shadows whisper in his ear constantly, he is always aware of the who and the what and the where. yet here he sat, wine glass in hand, cursing himself for not knowing of your existence.
the burgundy swirled around the rim, the warmth coating his throat as his eyes focused on you like you were the only woman he had ever seen in his life. the way your curves filled your gown, the way the fae light illuminated your skin as if it were made of delicate stardust, and the way the man’s grip on your wrist was a bit too tight.
he kept watch all night, watching the man drag you around, would parade you around like you were an object, stealing glances at other women while his hands were clad in the small of your back.
music boomed, but he swore he could hear the man curse at you for being too kind to the bartender. for wearing a dress too revealing, for not wearing your hair the way he asked.
azriel leaned back, setting his glass down. his shadows swirled around him, whispering in his ear as he quietly wondered if he should intervene.
“what’s got your eye?” cassian asked, nesta perched on his lap. the light glimmered in his eyes, a bright smile on his lips as he nursed his glass of whiskey.
cassian followed his brother’s stare and his smile dissipated.
tears pricked your eyes as your boyfriend whispered in your ear. to the blind eye, this would look like a sweet and intimate moment between two lovers. hiding in a dark corner, bodies pressed close, words sung into your ear, and his hands framing you in towards the wall.
but azriel knew. he had watched the signs, had been watching it all unfold silently from the table, waiting for his hand to strike you and to confirm that he wasn’t making it up. that he was seeing things correctly.
“do you think they’re just arguing?” nesta asked, her head cocked to the side as she watched.
azriel shook his head and began to stand, but cassian pulled him down. “az, as much as i hate seeing that shit, you can’t intervene just because you suspect something is going on.”
azriel knew this. he was far too powerful to act on a whim, too powerful to act on feelings and risk being wrong.
but his gut—no. something in him told him his concern was based off truth. he placed his hand on his chest, an unfamiliar and unsettling feeling dully bubbling there. he figured it was just the alcohol and adrenaline colliding together.
“i’m not seeing things, cassian.”
“i’m not saying you are. i’m just saying wait a bit and see if it escalates, mother forbid that happens. you’d kill him, azriel. and i’m sure he deserves it, so just wait and pray we’re wrong.”
at that moment, you were whisked out the door. the breeze from you was felt by azriel and he stood up, shrugging cassian’s grip off of him. “fuck what’s in my favor, then.”
tears fell from your eyes as you tried to break free from your boyfriend’s grip.
“i told you, nothing happened!” you pleaded. you had begged not to go out tonight. you knew the second the warmth of alcohol met his lips, the warmth within him would disappear.
your coworker had texted you asking for help with a work related task. the moment your phone lit up in the dim club, your boyfriend instantly seethed with jealousy. no matter what you told him about the situation, that your coworker was a gay man with a husband and two kids and fifteen years older than you, his mind reeled.
whiskey breath blew cloudy from his wet lips in the frigid air of velaris. “why does he have your number then, y/n.”
you scoffed and used your free hand to attempt to pry his fingers off your wrist which was now turning red. “i told you, i work with him.”
your boyfriend turned, his hand raised up at you. flinching, you recoiled and braced the impact.
in front of the two of you, shadows pooled. darkness seeped from the air, dark figures swirling around you. in fear, your boyfriend stumbled back and dropped your wrist.
“no, it can’t be-” he choked out, his eyes wide as he hit the wall.
the shadowsinger had your boyfriend held up by the collar of his shirt, towering his pathetic body and flushed face.
you had heard of him, everyone in velaris had. had heard what he was capable of, what he had accomplished. heard of his army of shadows that told him everything. you had never seen him, not until now.
“it wasn’t what it looked like! tell him, baby, please.” your boyfriend begged, his hand that was about to strike you now shaking.
you smoothed your dress and took a deep breath. “it was exactly what it looked like, shadowsinger.”
fury burned in your boyfriend’s eyes, but it was replaced with pain when the shadowsinger reacted to your words. his fist landed on your boyfriend’s nose, breaking it. blood pooled from his nostrils but you didn’t react.
“go on, show him how powerless he is. take your control back.” the shadowsinger whispered as he looked down at you. his tone was gentle despite the fact his cobalt siphons were pulsing with power, with the fact his knuckles were covered in crimson blood that didn’t belong to him.
you sucked in a deep breath and closed your eyes before opening and staring deep into the man you once thought loved you.
“this has gone on long enough. you will never contact me, or have the right to touch me ever again. you are to go to our apartment and get all of your belongings and be out by morning.”
“baby, come on. i’m-“ the shadowsinger tightened his grip around the mans throat.
“you’re what? sorry?” you chuckled, approaching the men. “sorry doesn’t excuse the fact that you almost…hit me tonight.”
the shadowsinger dropped the bloodied man as your words landed, stumbling away with his hand covering his chest. his eyes stirred with… surprise. the shadowsinger—his expressions often hard to read—showed every bit of emotion on his beautiful, moonlit face.
he looked at you in a way no one has ever looked at you. your palms grew sweaty as you took in his intimidating gaze, but there was no hint of malice, only wonder. he approached you, his steps careful and delicate against the pavement. he reached his arm out towards you cautiously, almost like if he were to move too fast he would destroy something.
“m-may i?” he whispered, gesturing to wrap his arm around your shoulders. you swallowed and nodded, the tears on your cheeks now dried and your nose bitten from the cold. you let him guide you away from your now ex-boyfriend and into the street.
“what is your name?” he asked, looking behind him to ensure your ex wasn’t following. you could tell his senses were in overdrive by the way he was holding you, like you were… his to protect. you boiled it down to that fact that he was just a nice guy. you knew how rhysand’s court treated women, how much they fought for the women in the camps.
“y/n. what is yours?” you looked up at him. he was so tall, his wings adding height to his frame as the tips exceeded the hairs on his head by a few centimeters.
he smiled at you, it light and airy like this wasn’t his first time seeing you. “you’ve never heard of me?” his words laced with amusement, perhaps a bit of cockiness.
“i know who you are, but not your name. although i suppose after tonight i should just call you my hero.”
he chuckled as he walked you towards a park bench, shaking his head. “you saved yourself tonight, i just gave you the safety to do it.”
you hummed, unsure. but you sat down on the bench and sighed, mind reeling from alcohol and the events of tonight.
“why did you help me?”
he was quiet for a bit, standing next to you and looking towards the river that was frozen over. “honestly, i didn’t know. but now i do, and i’m not… sure if you’re ready to hear this information right now. you’ve had a long night.”
your brows furrowed as you studied him. his energy was intoxicating, the way he held himself and was constantly aware of his surroundings. the way his shadows pooled around him, following him and whispering into his ear.
“what are your shadows telling you?”
azriel smirked and turned to face you. “they’re telling me something i already know.”
“and what is that, azriel?” you asked.
“that you’re my mate, y/n.”
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cinnajun · 9 months
Text
ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: 365 days | pgw
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summary | the first year of your relationship with park gunwook, quantified by 12 separate events.
genre | park gunwook x fem!reader, high school!au, very slice of life, fluff, angst, y/n is bisexual, roughly 1 month has passed in between every part
warnings | jealousy + attempted sabotage, the horrors of girlhood (insecurity, slight mention of beauty standards, comparison)
wc | 12.7k
a/n: if you listen close enough you can hear me screaming in agony ++ can someone please remind me how to think up ideas that don't require several thousands of words
ft. youngeun and yeseo from kep1, boys planet/redstartz junhyeon, ppl i made up
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i. confession
Tears bunch in your eyes as you sit behind your school building, the intensifying heat of spring embracing you like a warm hug. You feel devastated like someone had just stabbed you through the heart and left you to bleed.
“I think you’re overreacting, [First].” Youngeun’s voice is gravelly over the phone yet still uneasy, overall impacted by the sound of her gym class. Yeseo, who’s sitting next to you, hummed, although you weren’t sure if she was agreeing with Youngeun or not. “I mean, is it so bad he knows? It was bound to happen, probably.”
“Well, no, it wasn’t,” you stuttered, trying to keep the urge to sob and scream at bay. “And, to be fair, that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about what else Yukyung was telling people without me knowing.”
Youngeun begins to speak but doesn’t get more out than a squeak, and you can almost imagine her opening and closing her mouth in an instant. Yeseo picks up the slack, saying, “Well, it’s worse to assume than to deal with the facts. Yukyung, for whatever reason, told Gunwook about your crush on him and showed him the texts, and it’s getting out among our classmates. In my opinion, there’s one course of action you should take.”
“Which is?”
“Youngeun tells Gunwook that you want to talk to him after school, and then you talk to him after school.”
You groaned audibly and Youngeun gasped, presumably in horror. You stared at her in exasperation, letting a single tear fall down your face. Yeseo wiped it off with her cardigan’s sleeve, frowning at you. “I mean, the worst that could happen is that he doesn’t feel the same way and you feel embarrassed for a couple of months. And we all unfriended Yukyung pretty much instantly, so she won’t be around anymore.”
“Doesn’t matter, still happened,” you replied. “I don’t want to see him ever again. I’d rather die than see him again.”
Yeseo put a hand on your back, while Youngeun yelped at the sound of a basketball hitting the closet she was hiding in. “I’ll ask him, and you’re gonna do it, [First]. You can’t skip a week of school during the first week of school.”
“Who said I was going to skip?”
“Every time you’re minorly embarrassed by something you skip school,” Yeseo said, looking at you like you were insane. “Like that one time you got a bad score on our math midterms during our first year and the teacher asked you what happened in front of everyone, so you skipped 2 days and sulked in your room.”
“That was warranted,” Youngeun commented, which caused Yeseo to glare at the phone. “But! Not the point. For all you know, Gunwook could like you back, and you’ll be able to say you had a boyfriend in high school. Right?”
“The chances of that are incredibly low,” you whined, drawing your knees up to your chest and burying your head in between them. “We’ve barely even talked. We just sit kind of next to each other during our cram classes, and that’s it.”
“He could be delusional too!”
“Are you calling me delusional?”
“The bell is about to ring,” Yeseo cut in, grabbing your phone out of your hands. You immediately popped out of your fetal position, reaching for it as quickly as you could. “Youngeun, leave the supply closet and ask him, please. Pick a location and text the groupchat. [First] and I have to go back to the classroom so we don’t get in trouble for skipping our study block.”
With that, she hung up and left you to your devices. The day passed agonizingly slowly after that, and you found yourself struggling to focus on anything your teacher said. At some point during your study block, Yukyung had left, leaving you alone at your desk with no seatmate to annoy or watch (not that you wanted her there, anyway) for the day. That was likely out of embarrassment, too, as now your classmates, who generally liked you, weren’t as sure on how to deal with the newfound information.
The only other thing worth noting was that, during your 5-minute break in between classes, Yeseo told your homeroom teacher what happened and she approved you switching hers and Yukyung’s desks after school, but, other than that, you felt your sanity whittling away by the minute.
Youngeun had haphazardly chosen a tree behind the gym, typically reserved for successful confessions, because she’d been staring at it out the window as she talked to Gunwook (which she described as the scariest conversation of her life) and didn’t know where else would work.
According to her, he’d blushed as she asked, accepting on the pretense that it wouldn’t take long because he promised his older brother that he’d get dinner with him that night. Initially, you lamented over the fact that you wouldn’t have anyone to stare at during your after-school classes, but it quickly dawned on you that he thought you were going to confess to him (which was true—you were going to confess to him).
Then, when you got done with class for the day, one of your classmates—Gyuvin—hit you on the shoulder on the way out with a quick “good luck!”
It took Yeseo dragging you to the gym and offering you $20 and a free fun drink afterward for you to get used to the idea you were doing this, and about another 3 minutes of you panicking at her in a hushed whisper while she told you to get over yourself. Then, Youngeun sprinted over, panting and still half in her gym clothes.
“You didn’t change after gym?”
“Not the focus! You’re actively making him wait!” she choked out, apparently exhausted from her mad dash. You rolled your eyes, dropping your bag down next to them and taking a deep breath.
“If I throw up on him, I’m going to kill you.”
With that, you began your death march to the tree, where Gunwook stood, scrolling through his phone. The sight of him made your stomach explode with butterflies, which you tried to shut down given your (supposed) fate of rejection. You were mentally preparing yourself to be in turmoil for the next few days, but deep down, all you wanted was to rewind time to when you told Yukyung about your silly, little crush and stop it from ever happening.
Your crush on Gunwook was never meant to go anywhere but your brain, and now you were walking up to him, about to pour out feelings that were half-manufactured by Yukyung convincing there was a future that would come with them.
“Hi,” you managed, causing Gunwook to spin around and shove his phone in his pocket.
“Hi,” he replied, scratching his neck as if he was unsure what to do with his hands. “Um, how are you?”
It was a stupid question, and you could tell he knew that. Of course you wouldn’t be doing well—one of your best friends told the entire world (him, and then one of his friends leaked it to the rest of the school) your entire life story (a single crush).
“Could be better.”
“Yeah.”
You looked off to the side, seeing Gyuvin and Junhyeon, who you knew were close to him, watching from a second-story window in the school building. You tried to ignore it, but you knew you’d hyperfocus on it now.
“Look, I’m sorry,” you finally breathed out, twiddling your thumbs. “Yukyung—I don’t know what to say that you don’t already know. I guess I have a bit of a crush on you. Sorry.”
“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” he asked, sounding genuinely perplexed. You looked back up at him, shrugging.
“Well, it’s weird. We don’t really know each other, and then a girl you don’t know very well is suddenly telling you that I’m head over heels for you.”
“You’re not?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say it that way, no. Just a crush. Not much else.”
You thought there would be a weight off your shoulders once you managed to say it to his face, but it was, quite literally, the opposite. Your stomach was tightening up and your throat was closing, but you didn’t move, just staring him in the face.
“So it would be awkward if I professed my undying love for you right now.”
You flinched at that, frowning. “That was kind of mean.”
Gunwook’s face dropped when you said that, and he shook his head rapidly. “No, not—I wasn’t making fun of you, I swear. I promise. It was a bad way of saying I have a crush on you too. Sorry. Uncalled for. Didn’t mean it.”
The words fell from his mouth like an avalanche, and all you could do was stare at him in awe. “Wait, really? Why?”
“Why? I don’t know. We spend a lot of time together, even if we don’t talk often,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We were in the same class for our first year, then we started at the same cram school, and now we sit near each other. You’re entertaining to watch when you’re taking notes.”
“You stare at me in class?” you asked, genuinely shocked at his admission. You thought you stared at him enough during the same classes that it was impossible he could’ve been doing the same thing. Apparently, he was good at catching you when you weren’t watching his every move. “Creep.”
“Like you don’t? If I’m a creep, what are you? You’re way worse than I am,” he replied. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. What now?”
You tapped your chin, looking back over at the window Gyuvin and Junhyeon had been in. They were gone now, presumably to meet Gunwook when your conversation was over. “We could try being a ‘thing.’”
“A thing?”
“I don’t think we know each other well enough for like—I don’t know, for me to call you boyfriend,” you replied. “So we can just be a ‘thing.’ No strings attached! And we can go on a date or two. Maybe.”
“A date or two? Whereabouts?”
You smiled, and he did too; you were shocked at how well he managed to goad information out of you. You tended to say things but never follow up on them, not unless you were pestered over and over again—it had taken Yeseo nearly a year to get it down.
“Do you like the zoo? Recently, I’ve been wanting to go to the zoo. They have a new baby bear—cub?—that I wanna see. Perhaps on Sunday? Are you free then?”
“I might be free on Sunday,” he said, handing his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it, pressing a couple of buttons before handing it to you with an empty contact screen open. “How about we talk about it later? I’m late for meeting my brother.”
You typed in your name and number, sending yourself a quick text so you’d be able to initiate if you felt he didn’t text you fast enough. “Sounds good to me. I’ll see you later. Tell your brother I said hello.”
“Okay, sounds good,” Gunwook chuckled. He reached out and ruffled your hair, giving you a wide, bright smile that could’ve overpowered the sun if he tried hard enough. “I’ll see you later, so we can start our ‘thing.’”
“Yup, bye-bye. See you tomorrow.”
ii. lunchtime
You and Gunwook, mostly on purpose, don’t spend a lot of time together at school. Sometimes, you say hi and smile at him when you walk into his classroom to grab Youngeun, but, other than that, you keep it separate.
For one thing, it makes it easier to keep it “no strings attached,” as you’d proclaimed the day Yukyung briefly ruined your life, but it also was somewhat fun for you and him to not address what happened. Thanks to Gyuvin, half—if not all—of your grade had heard about it, and someone had spotted the both of you under that god-forsaken tree, but you hadn’t said a thing.
For you two, it was like nothing had happened, and, for everyone else, it was like a bomb they were just hoping would go off. It was fun—like you were living out a cliche, teen drama.
So, when Gunwook sauntered into your classroom in the middle of your lunch period, proudly holding a bottle of special juice you briefly talked about wanting, you were somewhat shocked. For the most part, you weren’t mentally prepped to interact with him during the day, especially as Yukyung watched on with her new couple of friends from the corner of the room.
You, Youngeun, and Yeseo stared at him as he approached, Gyuvin following close behind. He put the drink down in front of you, a proud smile on his face. “Look,” he said, gesturing towards it, so you looked. It was a brand of juice—they advertised it as a “smoothie,” but it was just slightly thicker juice—that you’d enjoyed a lot on a trip to the United States that you’d gone on a while back.
You hadn’t seen it once in Korea, even after taking Yeseo with you to search for it for hours. “Where in the world did you get this?” you spluttered out, picking it up. It was chilled, too, as if he’d been keeping it in a refrigerator (or, an insulated lunch box with an ice pack in it).
“He didn’t,” Gyuvin snorted, putting an arm around Gunwook’s shoulder. “Junhyeon did while he was in Busan this weekend.”
Gunwook hit him hard on the chest, clearing his throat. “Do you like it? Are you excited?”
“The right flavor and everything,” you replied, a surge of joy running through you. “Thank Junhyeon for me, okay?”
Gunwook scoffed, mumbling, “It’s not like I didn’t pay him back twice the price or anything,” under his breath. You held up your fist, to which Gunwook stared at it, somewhat dumbfounded.
“What?”
“You want a fist bump from me?” he asked incredulously. You nodded, exaggerating the movements to make it seem like he was missing the obvious. So, he bumped your fist with his, shaking his head. “See you after school, [First].”
“Yup, I’ll see you.”
And you watched him walk out, Gyuvin in tow—and, from the corner of your eye, you saw Yukyung watching his every move, up until he left the classroom.
iii. field trip
The third-year field trip was something you’d looked forward to for a long time—as a way to force students to take a break from their studying, your school sent all the first years to some fun location, paying for most of it with donations they got from alumni and parents.
This year, they’d had the bright idea to send you all to Hawaii, which had been both shocking and exciting. The farthest they’d ever sent anyone was Jeju, and that was a few years ago; but, they’d got some huge donation this year and decided to splurge.
So far, the trip had been fun, for the most part. On the airplane, you’d forced Gunwook to sit next to you so that you could hold his hand every time the plane shook (he’d laughed at you over your fear of turbulence, but you were too aware of the fact that he was rubbing your hand with his thumb to care). Almost all of your classmates, to whom you had not disclosed the nature of your “thing” yet, had stared at you every time they walked past. About halfway through, Youngeun, who’d volunteered to be the third wheel, leaned over and told you she was pretty sure the news was making its way down the plane, and people were getting up to fact-check it for the row members.
“That’s stupid,” Gunwook laughed, pulling your hand onto his tray table. “Doesn’t everyone know [First] is just afraid of planes? Nothing else going on here, not at all.”
Then Yeseo had popped her head above her seat and turned around to face you, an eyebrow raised. “Have you two kissed yet?” she’d asked out of nowhere, to which you shrugged.
“Why would we kiss when nothing is going on?”
Then, upon arrival, you and Gunwook had sat next to one another on the bus to the hotel, to which you’d promptly fallen asleep on his shoulder (since you didn’t sleep much on the plane) for the entire ride. You woke up to him holding your hand again, scrolling through his phone haphazardly.
After that, you’d had all eyes on the both of you—when you got to the hotel, while you were listening to your teachers give instructions, while keys were being handed out. And, as a result of what you assumed was anxiety over not knowing English, Gunwook and his two friends, Junhyeon and Gyuvin, followed you, Yeseo, and Youngeun around for the entire trip.
Then, on the third day of the trip, Gunwook asked if you’d want to go on a date with him. The idea was silly to you—not because you didn’t want to, but because you were two teenagers going on a date on your almost-all-expenses-paid trip to Hawaii.
That’s what you were doing now. It was the day before you were to head back home, and Gunwook had, for lack of a better word, taken you out. To a fancy restaurant—where he made you translate the entire menu and order for him—and to get some sort of fancy pineapple dessert afterward. Now, you were strolling on the beach, watching the sun fall below the horizon slowly but surely.
“How much longer until curfew?” you asked, turning around to face him. You continued walking backward, lacing your hands together behind your back.
“About half an hour. We’re close enough to the hotel that we don’t have to start walking back now, but we should think about it soon.”
You hummed, stopping abruptly. You faced the shoreline, listening to the sound of the waves draw in and out like breaths from a sleeping person. It was so alive, yet not at the same time, and it mesmerized you; you’d never seen an ocean like this before.
“You look pretty tonight,” he mused, staring at you rather than the ocean. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the comment.
“Look at yourself in the mirror.”
“I’m not pretty, I’m beautiful, thank you very much.”
A question was bubbling up in your throat now, much like the water in front of you. You felt a surge of anxiety wash through your stomach, and you were mentally transported back to that tree from a couple of months ago. The pure embarrassment you felt was gone and replaced with a sort of hope that was more painful than uplifting, as if it was a glass cup teetering on the edge of a table.
“I have a question,” you started, banishing the unease from your stomach.
“Oh, yeah?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. He wouldn’t look away from you, no matter how much you tried to focus on the sight in front of you. A crooked smile bloomed on his face which should’ve quelled your worries in an instant, but, for some reason, it only made them worse. “I suppose I have an answer for you.”
“Do you?”
“I just might, if you manage to ask the question.”
“Okay, here I go,” you said, mustering up all your courage and turning to face him. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and you immediately felt discouraged just looking at him. He was right—he was beautiful, almost impossibly so. Yet, here you were, boring and average, barely even able to hold a T to him. Plus, the only reason you were even here was because someone you’d considered a best friend had told him you liked him, and now you were getting into your head over something that was long over.
His smile dropped a bit when he (most likely) realized you were panicking a bit, but he didn’t say anything, simply waiting patiently for you to continue. You forced yourself to regain focus, shaking your head as the image of Yukyung permeated in your mind. He grabbed both of your hands as a way to help soothe the worry, and it worked as well as it could, pulling you back into reality.
“Do you want to be my boyfriend, maybe?” you finally asked, watching as his face lit up against the sun.
“Do I?” he asked back, allowing himself to smile fully. “This is the best question I’ve ever been asked. Seriously.”
“Seriously?”
Gunwook giggled, swinging your hands around a bit. “Can I kiss you? Pretty please?”
“Can you?” you mimicked, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. Gunwook giggled again, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. It was slow and sweet, his lips soft and tasting slightly of the pineapple you’d had earlier. He laughed and smiled through the entire thing, squeezing your hands in delight before letting go and wrapping his hands around your waist. As cliche as it was, you draped your hands around his neck, starting to giggle too.
When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours, still chuckling in delight. “This is so exciting,” he said, rocking you back and forth on the sand. “I’m so excited. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this for my entire life, you know? Even if I’ve only known you for three years. I can’t explain it—it’s unexplainable. I’m so excited.”
“You know what, I’m getting the idea you might be excited.”
And Gunwook shut you up with another elated kiss, ending your night in an impenetrable wall of pure joy.
iv. sleepover
Your parents were adventurers and you decidedly weren’t, which often meant you had your house to yourself. It was nice, mostly because it allowed you to spread out all your study stuff on the dining room table and do all of your work right then and there without your parents talking to you every 20 seconds.
Sometimes, though, things didn’t go as planned, and you had to do things you didn’t want to do. Namely, spend the night in the house completely alone. Every creak or thump made your heart beat out of your chest, which ended up in you taking a knife and a flashlight through the entire house with the emergency number pre-dialed.
Oftentimes, it ended with you not sleeping and then having to miss school because of over-exhaustion.
You were sitting in your living room while on the phone with Gunwook (he claimed you were moral support for his studying) when your mom texted you, the message starting with a bunch of emojis, which was her way of beginning a message with bad news.
“Oh god,” you said, cutting through the hour-long silence you’d maintained with your boyfriend.
“Huh? What’s up?”
“My mom texted me. There’s some huge accident on the freeway, so they’ve got the entire thing blocked off. Traffic is awful on other routes so they’re just going to pull off to a motel and sleep there tonight.”
“Oh no,” he said, and you could tell he was preoccupied with whatever math problem he was doing. “House to yourself, I guess?”
“I’m glad it’s Saturday,” you said, frowning. “I’m not gonna get any sleep tonight.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like being completely alone in the house. I’m convinced someone’s gonna come in and kill me.”
“Hmm,” Gunwook hummed, pausing briefly. “I could come over and stay the night? I’ll leave early in the morning so they don’t find out I was there.”
Realistically, you knew you should say no because the chance of your parents finding out about Gunwook terrified you, but you had poor judgment and liked your boyfriend too much to turn down seeing him. “Would you actually? It’s kind of late, and I wouldn’t want to make you walk that much in the dark.”
“It’s not that far of a walk,” he said, and you could hear him packing his school stuff already. The sound of pencils clinking against pencils and books closing made you feel all warm and fuzzy—instead of studying for the test that was going to decide his fate as an adult, he was coming to make sure you felt comfortable and safe.
“Oh yeah, because 30 minutes is ‘not that far.’ Just get it over with and tell me you’re in love with me.”
Gunwook cleared his throat at your quip, choking on air. You snickered, finding how flustered he got at the “L-word” quite cute (as if you wouldn’t do the same thing). “I’ll be there shortly.”
He hung up the phone without saying bye, most likely out of embarrassment, which made you feel proud of yourself. And, true to his word, he showed up about fifty minutes later, balancing his school backpack on one arm and another bag on the other. “Do you know how hard it is to jump out of your window with two bags?” he asked, walking into your house as if it was his own. You wondered if he cared about the fact that he’d never actually been inside before, given he’d only ever walked you home, but you assumed his unwillingness to do his usual hello-and-hug meant he was somewhat flustered by it.
“Are you moving in, or something? What’s in the bags?”
“Well, I can’t stay the night without all my nighttime stuff,” he huffed, breezing past you and dropping his bags off next to the stairs. You watched him look around frantically, and you somewhat assumed that he’d hung up on you because he’d realized what exactly he had suggested and had no way of backing out of it now (you hoped he hadn’t even thought about backing out).
“You’re such a diva,” you scoffed, shuffling back into your living room and returning to your position on the couch. He sat next to you, leaning against the armrest and putting his legs on top of yours. You rolled your eyes, picking up the remote and pressing play.
“So, what are we watching?”
“Whatever romcom was playing when I turned the TV on,” you replied, keeping your focus on the screen. Suddenly you were feeling embarrassed even though you’d been feeling so egotistical a second ago, as you were realizing you were in more danger here than he was. He’d successfully snuck out (or so he said, but you were pretty sure he probably told his mom and then snuck out the window to avoid his dad finding out), but your parents lived here, and if they got here before you were expecting them, it was over for you.
It dawned on you that you needed to find out when they were planning on getting back, so you wrenched your phone out of your pocket, furiously typing to your mother. Gunwook noticed, pointing at you and laughing. “You were so high and mighty a second ago, and now look at you. Somebody realized they’re going to be in bigger shit than I am.”
“Shut your mouth,” you hissed, watching the little bubble that indicated your mom was typing.
“Maybe we should send her a selfie, huh? Just so she knows a random teenage boy that she doesn’t know is in her house,” Gunwook continued, sucking all of the confidence you’d once had out of the air. “She’d be super excited, right?”
“If you’re not out of my house by 5:30 tomorrow morning, I’m going to break up with you,” you announced, glaring at him. He made a face at you, shaking his head.
“Be glad I like you so much. Waking up at 5:30 is brutal. I didn’t even do that when Gyuvin got his appendix out and texted me thirty times to ask if I’d be there when he got out of surgery.”
“You liar, Gyuvin literally told me that you showed up with flowers and a get-well-soon card.”
Gunwook blushed at that, clearing his throat. “Okay, whatever, fine. Let’s just watch the movie.”
The two of you got about twenty minutes of the romcom in before he checked the time and announced that you were both going to sleep. You said he could go on his own—midnight was early for both of you, and you weren’t the one waking up at 5:30—but he got all whiney, turning the TV off and picking you up from the couch.
You’d gone through the motions of your nighttime routine together, with Gunwook’s being about fifty steps longer than yours. You ended up sitting on the floor while he put on a million serums and waited thirty minutes in between each one, claiming it was to “let each product soak into his skin.”
You texted Youngeun and Yeseo about it, not thinking about the implications behind waiting for him to finish his skincare routine. Immediately, they began blowing up your phone, and you promptly muted your group chat and their individual text threads, not wanting to deal with the onslaught of questions they were likely unleashing onto you.
Then, you looked up to see Gunwook putting on a lip mask. Knowing it was probably the last step in his routine, you hopped up from the floor, staring at the small, pink container that the gel lived in. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to try that out,” you said, not thinking about it too hard. “Is it nice? Does it work?”
“Shouldn’t you know better than anyone whether it works or not?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You slapped him hard on the shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain. “Okay, geez, yes, it works. Do you want to try some?”
“Oh, can I—”
Before you could even finish your sentence, Gunwook leaned down and kissed you somewhat hard, almost causing you to stumble back a bit. Either way, you almost immediately broke it off, incredibly flustered at the act. You slapped him again, although this time it was a million times weaker. “You’re so stupid, oh my god, you cliche loser.”
“Be grateful I was willing to give you any, this stuff is expensive,” Gunwook said, cackling. He put a bit more on his finger, rubbing it into his lips to compensate for what he lost from kissing you. “I thought you liked kissing me, no?”
“I also like the thought of you getting hit by a train. These things aren’t mutually exclusive,” you huffed, looking to the side. “Whatever. I’m going to my room.”
“Ooh, me too,” he said, draping an arm around your shoulders as you walked past him. He kept himself in step with you, flicking the bathroom light switch off as you both exited the room.
“Who said we’re sleeping in the same room?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Gunwook laughed in your face, causing you to frown.
“Okay, sure, but one noise and you’ll be prancing into the guest room like a scared dog.” “Who said I had a guest room? Go to the couch.” You wiggled out from under his arm, opening the door to your bedroom and flicking the lights on. Gunwook continued following after you, but quickly walked past you and climbed under the duvet on your bed. Somehow, he’d already plugged his phone in and put his bags neatly in the corner of your room—it must’ve been when he walked out to grab his toner pads from his bag—and had settled into your bedroom quite nicely. You stared at him in awe as he yawned, patting the bed next to him.
“It’s bedtime.”
“For you.”
He laughed at you again, patting the bed once more. You shut your bedroom door behind you, turning your phone’s flashlight on and turning the lights off as soon as they’d come on. You shuffled over to the bed, sliding in next to him and cuddling up to him. He reciprocated, putting an arm on your waist and giggling.
“You giggle too much.”
“Good night, [First]. I won’t wake you up tomorrow morning, but I’ll be out by 5:30. Promise.”
Even though you weren’t tired, you fell asleep like a baby next to Gunwook, basking in the warmth he brought. You were pretty sure you’d fallen asleep before him, actually, but you swore up and down it was because he’d been humming to you and rubbing your back in a way that was more relaxing than you would’ve liked it to be.
So, when you woke up the next morning, the sun barely peeking through your curtains, to find him gone, you felt relief. You groaned, turning over to search for your phone, which was, as always, placed on your bedside table.
You picked it up, barely being able to make out the time—5:01 am. Huh, you thought, frowning. He left earlier than he needed.
And then you looked at your notifications—three texts from your mother.
2:34 am—Hi honey, the motel was uncomfortable and we couldn’t sleep, so we’re getting an early start. I know you get paranoid, and I hope you’re not awake, but texting to let you know just in case you are. Should be there about 4:30.
3:47 am—Update, we’ve hit some early traffic, so probably closer to 4:45. It might still be 4:30 if we’re lucky.
Finally, 4:11 am—We got lucky!!! We’ll be there in 10. Assuming you’re asleep…am glad. Can’t wait to be in my own bed.
You shot up from your bed, suddenly feeling more awake than you’d ever been in your life. With what little sunlight there was, you looked to the corner of the room, clearly seeing two black bags that didn’t belong to you. Then, an extra phone on your nightstand.
Panic set in. You, as quietly as you could, got out of bed, shuffling to the door. With a hand haphazardly placed on the knob, you pulled your door open, cringing at even the slightest of noises. You heard the sound of a glass hitting your table downstairs, and you felt like crying.
Slowly, you tiptoed down the stairs, catching sight of Gunwook, blue sweater on and exhaustion written on his face, sitting across from both of your parents. Breakfast was ready on the table, and Gunwook had a full plate in front of him, but it had barely been touched.
He noticed you first, looking up at you from the table. He looked violently uncomfortable, pleading for you to come save him, and you just about turned around and went back to your room.
“[First],” your dad said, turning his head to look at you. “Why don’t you come join us? I suppose you have a few things to explain.”
v. ice cream
You loved summer for a multitude of reasons—the lack of school, the increase in fun treats, and the overall happiness that came upon everyone during your one month off of responsibility. So, when you caught wind of a fair opening up, you knew you couldn’t pass up going.
Your first invites were Yeseo and Youngeun, since the three of you always spent your summers at amusement parks and pop-ups. But, they’d had the bright idea to invite along your boyfriend and his couple of friends—it would be okay, they said, since there’s three of you and three of them. So, you did, and you were entirely grateful that you had.
You didn’t know Gyuvin or Junhyeon very well before today; Gyuvin tended to follow Gunwook around, and Junhyeon had bought you juice once upon a time, but that was about it. It was the same for Gunwook and your couple of friends, as the most they’d interacted with him was on your plane ride to Hawaii.
Seeing your friends getting along with his warmed your heart, and it had put together a day you would never forget, most likely. About twenty minutes ago, your four accompaniments had made up some excuse as to why they needed to separate from the two of you, which had left you strolling through the fair as the sun was beginning to set.
The sky had erupted into a million different colors, namely pinks and purples, which you were particularly enamored by. You’d endearingly linked your arm with Gunwook’s and you’d been walking through the local artist alley that they’d put up.
“I’m glad it’s cooling down,” you said, staring at a booth where a woman was showing off all of her handmade jewelry pieces, which you found to be quite impressive. “As much fun as a fair is, it always sucks when it’s too hot to enjoy.”
“It wasn’t that hot today, though, was it?” he replied. “I mean, it got warm around 3, but that was just about it. I thought today was relatively tame compared to the rest of the week.”
“Okay, Fireboy, whatever you say. But, for the record, tame compared to the rest of the week doesn’t mean much when it was nearly 35° the other day,” you scoffed. Gunwook chuckled, and you looked over at him, intending on continuing to talk about the heat. But, a booth behind him caught your eye, distracting you from whatever you were planning on saying next.
You unlocked your arm from his, smiling mischievously at him. “Wait here,” you said excitedly, pulling your wallet out of your tote bag. You quickly walked over to the ice cream booth that you’d seen in the distance, the thought of how cold it would be tainting your mind. Even just a little bit of freedom from the heat was enough to sweep you off your feet, at this point.
“What would you like?” the server asked, to which you smiled at her, staring at the menu.
“Um, just two vanilla cones, please,” you said, realizing you had no clue what flavor of ice cream he’d even want. You hoped he didn’t have a terrible disdain for vanilla, but you doubted he did, given you’d never seen him actively dislike any food in your life. You got the amount of money it cost out of your wallet and placed it on the counter, shoving your wallet back in your bag.
The server handed them to you, and you thanked her, turning back around to hobble back to where you’d left Gunwook. And, as you did, you were met with quite possibly the worst sight in the world—he stood off to the side of the jewelry booth talking to someone. Namely, he was talking to Yukyung.
Of course she would be here—before she’d broken your trust, she tagged along on your summer adventures. She was your best friend once upon a time, and now, she was not much other than a bad memory, and she was talking to your boyfriend.
You didn’t know how to describe the feeling it evoked. It wasn’t jealousy—you knew what jealousy felt like, and this was too mellow and depressing to be jealousy. Yukyung looked gorgeous, as she always did, dressed in a pretty, flowy, red sundress that just barely brushed against the tops of her shoes. Her makeup was perfect and rosy to match the dress, and she’d braided white ribbon into her hair, which you thought made her look even more elegant than she had before.
Oh, you thought, biting your lip. This is inadequacy.
You watched them talk, and you watched the way she smiled and the way he seemed uncomfortable just from the way he stood. For a brief moment, you thought they even looked a bit good together, but that thought was quickly washed away when you felt ice cream drip onto your finger.
When you looked back up, she was gone, and Gunwook had gone back to lingering. You shook your head, jogging up to him with a smile. “Happy summer,” you said, handing it out to him. He smiled back at you, taking the ice cream cone from your hand.
“Thank you,” he said, taking a big bite straight from the top. You widened your eyes in shock and your face distorted into one of disgust.
“You bite ice cream?”
“And what about it? Do you have a problem with it?”
“Yeah, actually, I do. That’s weird and strange.”
“You know what else is weird and strange?”
“Huh?”
“The fact that you’re letting your ice cream melt all over your hand.”
vi. overwhelmed
You’re wondering how long you can get away with staying in the bathroom before someone notices that you’ve been gone for much longer than you were expecting. You hug your knees to your chest, playing a mindless game in hopes it’ll calm you down at least somewhat.
You knew this would happen at some point—every upperclassman you’d talked to told you that, in the months approaching your college entrance exams, your mental health would plummet. From panic attacks in the bathroom during math classes to not being able to fall asleep until four in the morning.
You just underestimated how much it sucked to feel like this in the first place. You’re no stranger to stress, that much is certain, but this was much more real. And, this sort of panic hit you anywhere and everywhere—including Gyuvin’s birthday party.
Briefly, you glanced at the time—8:02. You’d been in the bathroom for about 10 minutes, and nobody had come looking for you yet, which was good. The bad news was that you weren’t any closer to calming down and were feeling utterly helpless.
As if you’d jinxed yourself, Gunwook texted you at that very moment, asking where you’d gone. You half-assed your reply, saying you were still in the bathroom taking a break from the chaos, ignoring the temptation to ask him to come help you. It would be mean to Gyuvin and him—so, for the sake of your sanity, you’d stay quiet.
Meanwhile, Gunwook stood in one of Gyuvin’s hallways, staring at his phone. Junhyeon had followed him back as Gyuvin was well entertained by Ricky, who he hadn’t seen in nearly a year, and stood next to him, leaning against the wall.
“Things have been weird lately.” Gunwook frowned, reading over your text again and again. Junhyeon tilted his head inquisitively.
“Weird how?”
“Just…I don’t know, she’s been weirdly distant from time to time. Everything will be fine, and she’ll shut off with no warning. It happens no matter where we are, too—if we’re studying, if we’re walking home, if we’re eating dinner. It’s strange.”
“Could it just be test jitters? I know a lot of couples who broke up in anticipation of the test, with plans to get back together afterward. Like Yuna and Jaechan, in class 4. They did that.”
Gunwook’s frown deepend. “I don’t want to break up with her, though,” he sighed, watching as the typing bubble on your end appeared and disappeared. “Would it be weird to look for her? Like would she find that strange?”
“She probably walked off because she didn’t want to take you away from Gyuvin, but Ricky’s here now, so I don’t think it would be a bad idea, per se,” Junhyeon said, patting his shoulder. “But make sure she doesn’t feel bad taking you away from everything. I think Gyuvin would understand. And Ricky wants to meet her, so no harm in making sure nothing’s wrong.”
Gunwook bit the edge of his lip, shoving his phone into his pocket. Gunwook gave Junhyeon a pat on the shoulder, and he nodded, walking back toward the bulk of the party.
The bathroom was behind a bed sheet curtain that Gyuvin had hung up before the party, with a lame “do not enter” sign taped to it. He’d proceeded to give you, Gunwook, and Junhyeon special permission to break the rules, as the three of you had been in the house before and knew which rooms were okay to enter and which ones weren’t.
The door was closed and the light was on, which meant you’d gone out of your way to go to the off-limits bathroom, where Yeseo and Youngeun wouldn’t be able to find you. He frowned, raising his hand to knock on the door.
Then, he heard a small sniffle behind the door and stopped. Gunwook had never seen you cry—early into your relationship, you’d told him you weren’t a crier, and not many things pushed you to that point. At the time, it had been relieving, as he didn’t know you well enough to even attempt to comfort you.
But, now a good three months had passed, and he still had no clue what to do, which made him feel more stressed than relieved. Nevertheless, now that he knew, he couldn’t just leave you, so he knocked on the door.
Your response was, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Gunwook took that as an invitation to open the door, finding you sitting on the floor of Gyuvin’s bathroom while holding your phone. You weren’t crying, but he could tell you were close to it. He slipped inside, closing the door behind him, and sitting next to you on the ground.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, scooting closer to you so you’d be shoulder-to-shoulder. You shrugged, looking off to the side.
“I’m stressed. You know, with the college entrance exams and graduating stuff, the world is just a lot right now. I didn’t think it would hit here, though, but the number 18 being passed around made me think about it too much. It’s silly.”
“No, it’s not,” Gunwook replied. “It’s okay to be stressed out about something stressful, even if you’re at a birthday party. And it’s okay to tell me because Gyuvin’s friend came to surprise him after he moved to California, so he’s not upset that I’m gone. Okay?”
Your lip quivered a bit, and Gunwook put his arm around you, pressing you into his side. He rubbed your shoulder reassuringly as you sniffled again, obviously having to try harder to keep your feelings in.
At that moment, you wanted to spew everything at him. Your feelings of insecurity towards Yukyung, the stress you felt knowing he was going to get into some fancy university and you probably weren’t, how scary everything was right at this moment.
But, you stayed quiet and chose to burst into tears instead. The moment one tear escaped from your eye, the rest did, too, and you found yourself crying into Gunwook’s chest. He was rocking you back and forth, rubbing your back while you covered his shirt in your tears.
You felt miserable—if you could, you wanted to pause time, run outside, and scream. At what, you were unsure, but you needed it, more than you needed anything else in the entire world. You could only take this for so much longer.
“I’m here for you,” Gunwook whispered, squeezing you gently. “I’ll always be here, I promise.”
You took his words to heart.
vii. wisdom teeth
On day four of Gunwook’s wisdom-teeth recovery, you’d been asked to be his caregiver, which you were okay with. His mom, who was infinitely grateful that you’d offered to take care of her son, assured you that he was technically cleared to go back to normal after day 3, but he was still feeling a bit wonky, and his pain medicine enhanced the wonkiness.
Your jobs were as such: make soup or mashed potatoes when he asked, remind him to clean his wounds if he forgets, and hang out with him. You found the list quite easy and told his mom that you’d make sure he was all good and cared for.
You underestimated, however, how needy your boyfriend would be. The moment you’d walked into his bedroom to wake him up, he attached himself to you, whining about how much he’d missed you over the past few days. He spoke as if you’d gone off to war and left him behind with your nonexistent children, insisting that your absence had ruined his life.
After you managed to make him brush his teeth, spray salt water into his mouth, and eat his breakfast (a bowl of yogurt), he passed out on the couch, leaving you to do whatever seemed appealing at the moment. Initially, you spent your time scrolling through all the selfies he’d sent you of his face all swollen and puffy, which had got you giggling. Then, you had the bright idea to help 
You started by slightly cleaning his room up, feeling pretty good about yourself as you washed his clothes and his sheets. In your mind, you were building a resume to ensure his mom liked you, and you were going to earn extra affection from it, so you didn’t care about the repetitiveness at all.
About halfway through your cleaning adventures, Gunwook appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, staring at you folding the load of laundry you did. “How are you?” you asked, continuing to fold his t-shirts.
“Have I ever told you that you’re perfect?” he mumbled, shuffling over and draping himself onto you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and shoved his face into your neck, nearly knocking you over by putting his entire weight on you without warning.
“Only every day,” you replied, giggling. “Seriously though, how are you? Anything feel off or more painful than it did before you napped?”
“No,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your neck. “Stop sounding like my mom. It’s weird.”
“What do you want me to say? ‘I hope you get dry socket?’”
“It’s better than mom-speak,” he replied. “She’s going to love you after today. Not gonna shut up about it.”
“That’s the entire reason that I’m doing all of this.”
“And not to help out your hurting boyfriend? You’re terrible.”
You scoffed, finishing folding the rest of his clothes. “Are you hungry?”
You patted his arm and Gunwook unattached himself from you, letting you turn around to face him. He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. “No. I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you a lot.”
“Did you?”
“My mom said I cried about you being at school right after I got out of surgery,” he replied. You widened your eyes, not expecting him to be that forward about it. “I don’t like being away from you for so long. I hope we never, ever separate.”
You smiled, half-heartedly punching him in the shoulder. “I hope you stay this nice even after you feel fully better.”
Gunwook gave you a serious look as if he was thinking hard about something. You waited awkwardly, staring at one another as he sounded out whatever he was thinking in his head. “Over the past few days, I’ve been thinking a lot about something.”
“Which is…?”
“I’m going to say something,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders. “I’m not expecting a reply. I just need to say it. I’ve thought about it a lot.”
“Okay, go on ahead. I’m listening.”
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if whatever he was going to tell you was stressing him out. It made you get a bit anxious, wondering if he was going to break some terrible news to you. “Over the past couple of days, I’ve missed you a lot, more than I missed Gyuvin and Junhyeon combined. And it was hard only being able to talk to you through texting, even though I only text my friends for days on end sometimes. And it got me thinking about everything, you know? Because it’s all I’ve had to entertain myself since I got my teeth pulled.”
“Right.”
“I love you, [First]. A lot. And it’s okay if you’re not ready to say that yet, I get it. But I do. Truthfully. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”
It felt like a rock was stuck in your throat. You opened your mouth expecting words to come out, but they didn’t—so, you just stood there, staring at Gunwook. He stared back at you, eyes glossy from tiredness and cheeks pink. You weren’t ready—the words were so big and so scary, and it wasn’t that you didn’t love him, you just couldn’t find the words to say it.
Your solution to this was to engulf him in a hug, latching to his waist like you’d done a second ago. No words were needed as he did the same, and, for a while, you stood there, enjoying one another’s company.
viii. mirrors
You don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this gross when looking into a mirror. The dress you’re wearing is gorgeous—it’s long, flowy, and summery, the type of dress that doesn’t look bad on anyone. Yet, staring at yourself right now, you feel utterly disgusting.
It’s the same type of dress you saw Yukyung wearing at the fair, and, when you look at yourself, all you can do is compare yourself to her. Even when you were best friends, this was a problem you had, but it wasn’t nearly as awful when she made you feel safe and loved. Now, it felt threatening and nauseating.
Gunwook knocked on the door of your dressing room, causing you to wince. “[First], are you done? Can I see?”
“Yeah, sure. One second.”
You quickly retied the bow around your waist, hoping it would make you feel a little less awful. It didn’t have the intended effect, but you turned around anyway, opening the door to the dressing room. Gunwook’s expression bloomed into a smile the moment he saw you, but, instead of feeling loved, you only remembered the way he looked at Yukyung with slight disdain at the fair while she wore the same thing.
“You look so beautiful,” he said, which caused you to subconsciously frown. He noticed immediately, his smile morphing into a frown to mirror you. “What’s wrong? Do you not like it?”
You turned around, staring at yourself in the mirror once more. “I don’t feel pretty in it,” you said, trying to be as upfront with your emotions as you could. You saw Gunwook’s jaw drop in his reflection in the mirror as if he couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
“How in the world could you not feel pretty? It fits you perfectly, and it’s entirely on theme for your cousin’s wedding. You look gorgeous, I swear. Everyone would agree with me.”
“Are you sure?” you asked, hoping and praying that, if he said it for a third time, the image of Yukyung in your mind would miraculously go away. He nodded earnestly, making the most serious look you’d ever seen him produce.
“One thousand percent. And I’m not just saying it because I’m your boyfriend, I mean it. You look beautiful, and every other synonym of beautiful. I’m serious.”
You nodded, fabricating a smile so you could take it off and put your sweater back on. “Okay, I’ll get it then. I’m sure my mom will agree.”
You shut the dressing room door, fighting the urge to slam your head into the mirror. You just pulled the dress off of you, replacing it with your normal clothes and putting it back on the hanger, swiftly exiting the room so you’d no longer be facing the mirror.
After that, you’d tried to escape the mall as quickly as you could, dragging Gunwook through the corridors like you were on a mission. He’d followed without saying anything, but you could tell he was somewhat confused—and you hoped that confusion would go away when you arrived at the bus stop just as it arrived.
Gunwook knew you better than that, though, shooting you multiple inquisitive looks for the duration of your bus ride. And, the moment you got off, he whistled a small tune, which was a clear sign that he was going to bring it up.
“So, what’s up?”
“What do you mean?” You feigned ignorance, hoping he’d get the message and leave it alone. He wouldn’t, though, and it was now a question of whether he meant today only, or why you’d been acting so strange over the past month or so.
“You’ve been acting weird for a while, [First]. Not all the time, just sometimes, and it has me worried. Did I do something? Or is there something you aren’t telling me?”
“I’m just on edge,” you lied, clearing your throat. “Exams are next month. I don’t like the idea that a single test could dictate the rest of my life, and the idea that, if I do poorly, I have to spend another year studying for it.”
“Are you sure that’s it? You seem fine every time we’re studying, and your grades are good. You don’t ask for nearly as much help as you did a few months ago either.”
“I promise. Things will go back to normal next month, I swear.”
“Okay.”
Great, you thought, kicking a rock on the sidewalk. He knew you were lying, and now you had one month to fix your ex-best-friend troubles before you had to face your issues. And, you had no idea how.
You kicked the rock again, and it flew out in the street, falling into a storm drain, never to be seen again.
ix. exams
Before today, you didn’t think your hands could hurt this bad. Nor did you think your brain could hurt this bad, either.
The moment you walked into Gunwook’s room, you drop everything you’re holding, face-planting into his bed. He laughed at you, and you could hear him neatly placing everything he was holding onto his desk.
“How can you unpack things right now?” you asked, mentally praising whoever created mattresses. “I feel like my brain is short-circuiting.”
“I’m good at school stuff, that’s why,” he replied. Outside, the rain that you’d dealt with walking to his house got worse, and you briefly considered the possibility that you wouldn’t be returning home tonight unless one of your parents were willing to drive to Gunwook’s house. “Do you want something else to wear? Other than your uniform.”
“Really?” you asked, hopping out of his bed. He nodded, opening his drawer and taking out a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants.
“They’ll probably be a little big,” he said, handing them to you. You waved him off, shaking your head.
“They’re not this god-awful uniform, so they’re winners in my book.”
You practically skipped out of his room and into the bathroom, changing into the pajamas he’d given you hastily. They were soft and smelled like the detergent his mom bought (which smelled exactly like you thought Gunwook would smell, back when you just had a delusional crush on him).
Before you went back to his room, you folded your uniform, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. You looked exhausted and you felt it too, overloaded from the hours of straight testing that you’d endured for the sole purpose of going to university. You were so tired you couldn’t even muster the strength to be worried about your test scores.
You shuffled back into Gunwook’s room, shutting the door behind you. He was already laying down, scrolling through his phone and wearing the black-and-white sweater he’d been so obsessed with recently. You put your uniform on top of your bag, which he’d moved to a chair in the corner of his room, before collapsing on top of him and forcing your hands around his waist.
The act caused him to laugh at you before ruffling your hair, kissing you atop the crown of your head. “I’m proud of you,” he said, and you felt his chest rumble as he talked. “I’m sure you did well.”
“Stop being sappy,” you replied, suddenly feeling a lot more tired than you had been. “But I’m proud of you too. I know you did well.”
He hummed, and you assumed he went back to scrolling through his phone, which you weren’t angry about. You had about five minutes before you fell asleep on him, and you were fine spending it in complete silence save for whatever random thought you had.
“Oh, did you see the Yuna-Jaechan reunion? It was, like, dramatic. He gave her some super expensive necklace or something.”
“I didn’t see it, but I heard about it. Junhyeon hasn’t shut up about it. He thinks it’s hilarious.”
“If we’d done the CSAT breakup, would you have bought me a super expensive necklace?”
“We wouldn’t have, but I would’ve bought you the most expensive necklace ever. With Gyuvin’s money.”
“Aw, how romantic.”
It went quiet again, and you felt yourself fading quickly. The rhythmic up-and-down of Gunwook’s chest paired with the rain pitter-pattering against the window was putting you to sleep with ease, to the point where you could barely keep your eyes open.
And then a bright flash and near-immediate thunder awoke you instantly, causing you to flinch hard. Gunwook laughed at you instantly, causing you to feel embarrassed.
“Oh, is someone afraid of thunder?”
“No,” you huffed, closing your eyes again. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Okay, whatever you say. But that jump was pretty intense. I almost thought you were convulsing, was scared that the test had killed you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Good night, [First]. Sleep well.”
Now aware that you were enduring a thunderstorm, the booming noise that came with the rain only added to your sleepiness. Within minutes, you were almost completely asleep, barely able to register when Gunwook laughed at something on his phone or shifted slightly.
“I love you,” he whispered, putting a single hand on your waist. With that, you were asleep and entirely dead to the world for the next few hours.
x. gossip
You didn’t like the way Youngeun was looking at you. She couldn’t keep secrets—it was obvious she knew something, but you couldn’t figure out what exactly she could know.
Yeseo, on the other hand, seemed completely fine, even if Youngeun kept giving her worried glances. She simply drank her juice, mixing her noodles around with seemingly no intent to actually eat them. It was silent at your table, the sun beating down on you as you sat outside the 7/11 you’d all agreed to go to after school that day.
“What is up with you two?” you finally asked, frustrated with whatever was happening. Youngeun winced and Yeseo put her drink down, balancing her chopsticks on top of her bowl of ramen. It was silent for a few moments, and you felt anxiety eating you up.
“There’s a rumor going around,” Youngeun blurted out, causing you to tilt your head. Yeseo crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.
“It’s not a big rumor. It’s small and contained, and it shouldn’t get much bigger, but we don’t want you to hear it from someone random, or to overhear it when you don’t mean to. We don’t think it’s true, but you deserve to know.”
“Okay, just tell me. I don’t need this huge build-up.”
“There’s a small group, and I mean small group, that think Yukyung and Gunwook are dating behind your back.”
You went quiet, feeling your heart drop into your stomach. Realistically, you knew it wasn’t true—from the way Gunwook talked to you to the way he looked at you, there was no possible way that this was true. The part of you that was borderline traumatized by her sudden switch up on you believed it in an instant, though.
“Do they have any proof?”
“Apparently, they see her talking to him a lot. I mean, she doesn’t hang out in your classroom often, ‘cause her new friends are in mine and Gunwook’s class. And, to be fair, they aren’t wrong, she does talk to him a lot, but he doesn’t like it. It wouldn’t shock me if she’s trying to get him to break up with you, but they’re not dating,” Youngeun said, suddenly sounding a lot angrier than she did before. “I’ve seen him shoot her down several times. But people take it the wrong way, I guess.”
“Long story short, don’t believe it, [First]. We both know it’s not true and if you start hearing it from other people, ignore it. Okay?”
Like the world was playing an awful, cruel joke on you, your phone started ringing, and one look confirmed your suspicions. You picked up, hearing Gunwook’s voice come through, clear as day. “Do you want to see a movie tomorrow?” he asked, skipping over the greeting. Intrusively, you thought, would he go with her, too? “I’ll pay. It’s a showing of a Ghibli movie that Yujin said was good.”
“Sure,” you said, feeling Youngeun’s and Yeseo’s eyes burning through you, as if to say don’t you dare overreact about this. “What time?”
You were going to overreact about it anyway, though. You couldn’t do this, at least not with Yukyung—or, at least the thought of her—breathing over your shoulder at every moment. She meant too much to you that your mind was racing through every single thought you’d had over the past few months.
She was your best friend, and you’re pretty sure that, before Gunwook came into the picture, you were in love with her. You spent hours upon hours with her, and now you spend hours looking through the old pictures that you refuse to delete. You’re stuck on her—not in love with her anymore, but yearning for a friendship you lost—and it’s getting in the way of your relationship, and your mind concludes that there’s one viable outcome.
And, now, you have an excuse to carry it out.
xi. her
You don’t have the time to knock on Gunwook’s door before he throws it open. He hugs you immediately, picking you up and spinning you around right there in his doorway, and, for a minute, your mind is clear of all the terrible things that you’ve been trapped with for the past month.
“We did it,” he cried out, putting you back down so he could see your face. “We did it! Oh my god, how could we not have done it? We were always going to get in.”
About twenty minutes ago, both you and Gunwook received an email from Seoul National University that you’d gotten in. After you’d cried for four hours over your good CSAT scores, you nearly passed out at this news, wondering in what world you had deserved this. And, among your caving-in mind over Gunwook and Yukyung, you’d immediately left your house and ran to Gunwook’s.
He cupped your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your lips in utter joy. You laughed, feeling immensely happy for the both of you.
You tripped over your feet as you walked into his house, kicking off your shoes and emerging into his living room. “I never thought this would happen,” you said, pacing around the room. Gunwook watched you from behind the couch, smiling. “I mean, for the last month, I’ve just—I haven’t caught a break. I’ve been miserable every waking moment and now I finally have something to be happy over. Can you believe that?”
You look at him, and you watch his smile drop. You backpedal over what you said, realizing that you’d let your little secret slip; since Youngeun and Yeseo had told you about the rumor, you’d done an excellent job at hiding your panic, acting like everything was fine when it wasn’t in the slightest.
“What do you mean you’ve been miserable?”
You stopped pacing, and the room went quiet. In an instant, you’d knocked the happiness out of the room and brought in everything you’d been avoiding. The breakup plan you’d thought of night after night flashed in your mind, along with Yeseo telling you that you were an idiot for even considering it.
“I don’t know where this came from,” he continued, his voice a bit tight. “But I was under the impression everything was okay. We took the test and you looked better—why wouldn’t you tell me you were miserable?”
You weren’t sure what to say. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt nauseated, no longer feeling the excitement of the college acceptance you’d yearned for since you were a kid. “It’s stupid,” you said, your voice small. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it.”
“I don’t know if you understand how that sounds to me,” he said, and you were getting the idea that he also had an issue that he hadn’t been talking about, either. “But we’ve spent a lot of time together over the last month, and you saying that you’ve been miserable the entire time sounds a lot like you saying you were miserable being with me.”
“What? No, that’s not what I meant.” You shook your head, feeling mortified at the idea. “I promise, that’s not it. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Then why won't you tell me? I don’t think I’m entitled to hear anything from you that you don’t want to talk about, but when it’s been torturing you for months, [First], I feel like I deserve to know. Especially since it seems like Youngeun and Yeseo haven’t gotten any of the side effects.”
You bit your lip, closing your eyes. “You know Yukyung was my best friend, right?” Even saying it aloud made tears bunch into your eyes. For the first time since nearly a year ago, now, you were facing something you hadn’t even talked about with your mom. “Like, best friend. We’ve been—we were friends from our first year of middle school. She was my everything. And she threw it all away over—over you, and it’s been hard for me to stomach it.”
Gunwook rolled up his sleeves, leaning on the couch. “That happened in March,” he said, almost sounding frustrated. You knew it wasn’t directed at you, rather, he was probably angry that Yukyung had any say in your relationship even though you’d never even spoken about her.
“It killed me, Gunwook. I didn’t sleep well for a week. I mean, she was telling people things I told her in middle school, running around and painting a picture of me that I didn’t know she had.” You felt exasperated, unsure of how to convey what you needed to without sharing a secret you’d never shared with anyone. “It was hard for me. Even though I was happy about us, I couldn’t get over losing her like that with no warning. And then, I saw her talking to you at the fair, and then Yeseo and Youngeun told me about the rumors, and—”
“Rumors?” he interjected, furrowing his eyebrows. “What rumors?”
“People think you’re cheating on me,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. That seemed to confuse Gunwook, as he looked down, staring at the couch rather than looking at you. “It’s just hard, okay? It’s hard.”
“And you couldn’t have told me you felt like this? It didn’t cross your mind, even for a second, to just be honest?”
“Well why didn’t you tell me that she’s been talking to you at every chance she gets?” you rebutted. That caused him to wince, and you watched him realize that he couldn’t say much, either. “It’s not like we’re both innocent, here. So let’s get it over with. Now.”
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Gunwook said, pushing off the couch and mirroring your stance. “Gyuvin brought it up during our second year before we knew each other. It didn’t cross my mind again until I saw you staring at her when I came in to give you your calculator back. And then—it’s been months and you haven’t said you loved me.”
Every muscle in your body tensed, and it, once again, occurred to you that you could never pull anything over on Gunwook.
“Are you in love with her?”
You gulped, your throat suddenly feeling drier than it ever had. “I was. A long time ago.”
It went silent again, and you wondered if he believed you. “I promise you it’s in the past. It was only during my first year and some of my second, but I got over it when she started dating Seungeon. And they lasted long enough for me to get over it, and we added Youngeun to the mix, so I was preoccupied. That’s in the past. But it doesn’t change that she threw out five years of our friendship without a second thought.”
He didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, beginning to pace back and forth. You let him think, hoping that your defense was sound enough that he wouldn’t break things off then and there.
“Do you love me, [First]?”
Two months ago, Yeseo had asked if you’d said “I love you” yet. You’d, embarrassingly, had to share that Gunwook had but you hadn’t, which perplexed both of them. And, when they asked why, all you’d been able to tell them was that the last person you’d said “I love you” to was Yukyung, the night before Youngeun called you, telling you everything she’d heard.
“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I do. I love you.”
Right in front of you, Gunwook burst into tears, walking straight past the couch and enveloping you in his arms. “I thought you were going to break up with me for so long,” he choked out, squeezing you so hard you could barely breathe. “I was terrified the entire time, and I thought things got better after the exams, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. I was so scared, [First]. I love you so much that I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
“I love you too,” you said, although it was muffled. “I promise. And I didn’t love her as much as I love you.”
xii. graduation
You were realizing that your claim that you didn’t cry often was quickly becoming a lie. You were sitting on the floor of your room, holding your diploma to your chest while tears streamed from your eyes. Gunwook was staring at you with a mixture of amusement and worry as you rocked yourself back and forth.
“Youngeun is leaving me,” you said, hiccuping. “Both of them are. For Japan. I’m going to have to make new friends.”
“But you’ll still be able to talk? They won’t even be in a different timezone.”
“Okay, and?” you said, hiccuping. “It’s so far. I won’t be able to go to 7/11 with them anymore.”
“We can go to 7/11?”
“That’s different, you’re my boyfriend. 7/11 is a commitment when it’s with you.”
“What does that even mean?”
You let out another Earth-shattering sob, and you supposed that convinced Gunwook to come over and attempt to comfort you. “There, there,” he said sarcastically. “Japan is very far. And you’ll have to pay more to call them. I’m sorry.”
“At least try to sound a little serious!”
“Neither Junhyeon nor Gyuvin got into SNU.”
“Okay, but they’re still in Korea, so you’ll be fine. There’s no train to Tokyo here.”
Gunwook wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leaning his head on yours. “It’ll be okay. They’ll be here over breaks and you’ll get to see them then, right? And you always have the—wait, why don’t you have a picture of us framed?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m serious,” he said, pointing to your dresser, which was right in front of you. On top were multiple framed pictures of the three of you, smiling, laughing, and doing other things. “What’s up with that? Am I less important than them?”
“Shut up.”
“No. I’m going to buy a disposable camera right now, and we’re going to take pictures so you can print and frame them.”
You rolled your eyes, wiping away your tears. “Okay. Whatever you say. Even though you’re my wallpaper, and you’re the only number pinned in my text messages, and you’re the only person who’s ever known the password to my phone.”
“You love me.”
“Not when you’re a greedy loser.”
“Aw, I love you, too.”
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thank you for reading !
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Hello! I’m not sure if this has been requested yet. But could I request an Ethan Landry imagine with the prompts 1 & 4. “How could you betray me like that?’’ & “I’m not gonna let you get hurt.’’ Could the reader be Gale and Dewey’s daughter too? Please and thank you!
I've been waiting for a request that could fit this scene idea that I had and this one was perfect!!
my taglists are here  + you can requests here at any time
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Your eyes welled with tears as the ghostface on detective Bailey’s right took off their mask, revealing the face of your boyfriend.
‘’No,’’ you cried, barely audible.
The ghostface reveals are known to be shocking, but this — you did not see this coming. Ethan had always been sweet, loving and awkward. He was the perfect golden retriever boyfriend. You really thought you had him figured out.
Yet, here he was, black robe on and bloody knife in his hand after stabbing his roommate to an imminent death.
You felt sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be happening.
You were starting to believe that your life was cursed. You were the daughter of two survivors of the original Woodsboro massacre, it would make sense. Cursed by the bloodline.
Would this ever stop? Or were you destined to die by the knife of a masked killer? You were so sick of these fucking ghostfaces. One of them had taken your father’s life last year. Now, your mother was severely injured and one of the killers turned out to be the guy you were in love with? Your father was right — never trust the love interest.
Beside you, Tara was frowning at who she thought was her friend. How could he have done this to Chad?
Sam’s attention shifted to the second ghostface that had yet to reveal himself. Please don’t be Danny, she silently begged. She had gone through this once, she didn’t want to be betrayed the same way again. She would probably go ballistic if the second ghostface revealed to be Danny.
Everyone was on the edge as the remaining ghostface removed their mask.
Quinn.
‘’Hey roomies,’’ she greeted with a smile. ‘’Didn’t see that one coming, did you?’’
‘’Because we thought you died,’’ Tara said, deeply confused.
‘’Yeah, well it was a way to get off the suspects list.’’
Detective Bailey and Quinn went on about how they faked her death, but you weren’t listening. Your attention focussed on the boy who completely shattered your heart.
“How could you betray me like that?’’ you said as a tear slipped down your cheek, looking right at Ethan.
His eyes were filled with guilt and regret, but you didn’t put your guard down. You couldn’t let yourself be fooled by him — not again.
‘’I’m sorry, baby.’’ Ethan’s voice had shifted to the soft one he used with you, dropping the ghostface act. He made a step to you, but before he could reach you, Quinn did and held her knife against your throat.
You gasped and went completely still in Quinn’s hold, your life one move away from ending.
Rage filled Ethan, glaring at his killing partner. ‘’Don’t touch her!’’ he warned, pointing his knife at Quinn. ‘’She has nothing to do with this.’’
‘’Uh-uh. Come any closer and I’ll kill her,’’ the ginger haired girl defied, tightening her hold on your frightened figure.
Quinn’s threat was not an empty one and Ethan knew. She didn’t care about you or your life.
‘’Falling for the enemy. God, you’re such an idiot!’’
You begged Ethan for help with your eyes, the fear in his mirroring yours.
Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot echoed in the theater and you saw Kirby, back on her feet, firing at Quinn. The bullet hit her shoulder and fell back from the impact, just enough to allow you to slip from her grapes and flee with Sam and Tara as Quinn cursed from the pain.
The theater was large, so you separated. Sam took Tara's hand and dragged her in one direction and you took the other. It would have been smart if there weren't three killers, but staying together made you a bigger target. There wasn’t really a smarter plan, they both sucked.
You pushed a door and took a left, hoping to find a room to lock yourself in, but instead ending up in a long hallway that was a deadend. Fuck. If any of the killers found you, you would be doomed.
You leaned against the wall, catching your breath for a short moment as you asked yourself what your mom would do in your situation. She’s Gale Weathers, she’s intelligent and resourceful — she always finds a solution.
During your thinking, a hand covered your mouth.
By elimination, it wasn’t Quinn — she would have stabbed you immediately. It also couldn’t be detective Bailey because all the man could do was use a gun.
Your eyes widened in fear, thinking this was your moment, but instead you heard Ethan’s voice.
‘’It’s me.’’
A sound that should reassure you and make you feel safe instead made fear rise in your chest.
You pushed his hand off you. ‘’Don’t touch me.’’
Your words hurt like a dagger to the heart. You were scared of him.
He raised his hands in surrender. ‘’I know you're scared of me right now—’’
‘’You murdered people, Ethan. You...you stabbed my mom and killed her boyfriend.’’
‘’That wasn't me! It was Quinn,’’ he exclaimed, quickly innocenting himself. ‘’I could never do this to you.’’
His eyes were pleading that you would believe him, but to which extent had he put an act on?
‘’Was any of it real? You and I?’’
Tears filled your eyes again as flashes of the time spent with him hit you. All the nights watching movies cuddled on his bed, the study sessions that turned into making out and the softest smiles he gave you. The intimate moment spent beneath the sheets. Helping him tape his strange knight costume for the Halloween party because it kept falling apart. When he comforted you after the attack at Sam and Tara’s apartment or accompanied you to the hospital when your mom got stabbed numerous times. You had cried into his chest, wrapped in the protection of his strong arms while the doctors were taking care of your mom.
‘’Yes!’’ he affirmed, coming close but you stepped back, making his heart ache. ‘’Everything between us is real, I promise. You're the only good thing in my life I've ever known. The only person I’ve ever loved.’’ He was pouring his heart to you, not caring if he sounded desperate.
There was nothing he wouldn’t do to get your forgiveness. Hell, he would get on his fucking knees and beg if needed.
‘’And I believe that.’’ You put a hand on his face gently, feeling his baby-soft skin. ‘’I love you, Ethan. I love you, but I can't forgive you. You…you killed Anika and Chad.’’
‘’I had to! My dad— He made me do it.’’ Tears filled Ethan’s eyes. ‘’I-I wanted nothing to do with this.’’
He rarely ever evoked his father — or his family. All he had said to you was that he constantly had to fight to gain his father's love and approval because he wasn't the favorite son. Was this why he participated in his father's revenge plan?
Your heart ached for the boy who begged for his father’s attention and love, but it didn’t change anything to the fact that Ethan had killed in cold blood two people who called him a friend.
‘’I’m sorry.’’ Your hand slipped from his face, getting flashes of Anika’s body falling from the ladder and hitting the ground. ‘’You’ve gone too far. I can’t—’’
‘’I’m sorry. For Chad and Anika and all the people I’ve hurt.’’
‘’Sorry is not gonna bring them back.’’
Ethan didn’t say anything. Sometimes, silence is best.
‘’I’m still gonna keep my promise.’’
You drew your eyebrows together. ‘’What promise?’’
‘’To protect you. It doesn’t matter if you hate me, you’re not going down tonight.’’ He rested his forehead against yours, looking right into your eyes as he promised. ‘’I'm not gonna let you get hurt. Ever.’’
Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog 
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traveler-at-heart · 3 months
Text
Finding Home - Part 3
Summary: This is a series imagining what it was life for Natasha after joining S.H.I.E.L.D.
Warnings: Violence, injuries.
Part 1, Part 2
There were only five people in the room.
“Jericho missiles” Fury says as soon as the door is shut. Clint looks at you, alarmed.
“What are those?” Natasha says and Maria turns to the screen.
“Developed by Tony Stark. Selects a target, at a certain height it splits into 16 smaller missiles to have a cleaner impact. The shockwave is also more devastating”
There’s footage of tests conducted in military facilities playing on the screen.
“Obadiah Stane sold five of these to the Ten Rings. Stark was able to destroy them all. Or so he thought” Fury pushes three identical folders in the direction of Clint, Natasha and you.
“There are still two” Clint confirms after skimming through the file.
“At an abandoned factory, close to the Canadian border” Natasha reads out loud, going through all the information at record speed.
“So on a scale of one to ten, how heavily guarded are these bad boys?” you ask Fury.
“They have grenades up their asses”
“So, like a seven”
“Not funny, Agent” he warns, but you turn to Natasha, who let out a small chuckle.
“She thinks it is”
“It will get old really fast. Trust me” the man says and she rolls her eyes. “You leave tomorrow, before the Ten Rings decide it’s time to light up the sky in an American city”
“Let’s go over strategy today. Natasha’s suit and weapons should be ready” Maria proposes.
“I’m looking at the Widow Bites” you interrupt.
“Farley said that if you messed with his tech again he’d quit” Fury reminds you.
“Good riddance. He’s an idiot and she’s not going on a mission with faulty equipment”
“Fine. Hill” Fury nods in confirmation and they leave the room.
“What was that?” Natasha turns to you, but you shrug your shoulders, projecting the map of the factory and reading the file.
“Oh, now you’re modest about it?” Clint teases. “Y/N here is an MIT graduate. Mechanical Engineering, top of the class”
“It was a small class”
“If she wasn’t an agent she’d be running the design department. Made my arrows ten times lighter and faster. Deadly too”
“That’s enough. I just want to make sure Nat has the best equipment” you wave dismissively, still looking at the map.
It’s an important mission, yes. But your priority is Natasha.
“Fucking Farley” you mutter for the tenth time, making Clint chuckle.
As suspected, the Widow Bites have a short range and the voltage isn’t enough to incapacitate enemies, so you’ll be fixing that as everyone else discusses the plan.
“Y/N is coming in first. Once she disables the security, Romanoff and I will go set the explosives for the missiles” Clint says, going over the map of the warehouse.
“I’m not leaving her alone” Natasha says and while you keep your eyes on the Widow bites, correcting the wiring, you smile.
“It’s fine, Nat. It’s my area of expertise. I’ll hack their systems, keep an eye out and will join you once the explosives are set” you look up, nodding her way. Maria walks in, looking over your shoulder. “Tell Fury he needs to kick fuckface Farley to the curve”
“Noted, Brains. Which one of you will be Brawn?” Maria turns, smiling teasingly at Natasha and Clint.
“I’m Beauty” Clint says, turning to Natasha. “Romanoff?”
“Sorry to break it to you, but Natasha is all three” you say, removing the magnifying glasses and stretching your back. “Is it dinner time yet?”
“Our order should be ready. I’ll pick it up” Natasha offers, taking the car keys.
“Don’t forget about the…”
“Extra rice, yes” she rolls her eyes and Clints follows right behind, ready to take a break.
Maria sits right next to you, and you don’t need to turn around to know she’s staring.
“Yes, Hill?”
“So when are you asking her out?”
“Pardon?”
“Oh, come on” she pushes your chair and you roll away, annoyed. “You compliment her, she knows about your special order, the pining and the heart eyes”
“I’m one of the few people who treat her like a human being. That’s all” you say, hoping it’s the end of the conversation. Maria throws you a paper ball, just like in your academy days and you snort. “Ass. Yes, I like her. But she’s barely had a life. I can’t ask her out and make it awkward. Natasha needs to live and experience things and once she knows what she wants… maybe I’ll do something about my feelings. Until then…” you point at your friend, and she nods, motioning as if her lips are sealed.
You just hope your feelings for Natasha won’t get in the way of this mission.
The air is colder than you anticipated.
“Good to go?” Clint says, looking over his shoulder. You try your comms and go over the equipment. Once you nod, he lowers the jet, counting down to prepare you for the fall.
“Be careful” Natasha says. It’s the first things she’s said to you since you left headquarters.
“Chinese for dinner?” you say with a smile, hoping that it will ease the tension. Natasha nods and you wave, jumping into the darkness.
The landing is a bit rougher than you would have wanted since the parachute was dragged around by the wind, but nothing is broken and you can disable the security alarm in the hatch.
From there, your next stop is to the control room. There’s only one man monitoring the cameras, and you knock him unconscious before he can reach for his gun.
“I’m in. You have twenty minutes” you announce.
“Got it”
Out of pure curiosity, you look over at the computer on the side, browsing through the files.
“Clint” you say as you stumble upon Stark’s designs.
“I’m kinda busy” he says, installing the explosives around the warehouse.
“They have intelligence on other Stark weaponry. Should I make a copy and then clean up their files?”
“Proceed. But be on the lookout, we’re almost done here”
“I can multitask” you say, pulling out a drive to copy all the files. The encryption will have to be done later, but for now, eliminating everything they have should be enough.
Either way, the entire building is blowing up in a few minutes.
An alarm blares across every hallway, and you look up, surprised.
“What the fuck, Y/N? We’re not done here” Barton barks, clearly in a hurry to finish the job now that you’ve been discovered.
“It wasn’t me” you say, frantically looking at the cameras. There’s a man with long hair that frames his face, covered up to his eyes with a dark mask. “We have company. I’m locking the doors on your side, exit through the vent”
“That means you won’t be able to get out” Natasha protests.
“I’ll find another way and meet you. You have to go. Our friend here seems to be… in a hurry”
Your blood runs cold when you see him punching his way through the guards. He is a super soldier, judging by his strenght and now you’re trapped with him on this side of the building.
“Fuckfuckfuck”
Pulling the drive to your pocket, you leave the room and go to the side farthest away from the man.
The thing is, he seems to be going through the walls instead of using doors, so the distance grows smaller with each of his steps.
“Natasha is gone” Clint informs you as you’re sneaking around. That makes you stop in your tracks.
“Bullshit”
She wouldn’t.
“The minute we were out she ran away in the opposite direction. I’m on the jet now. Give me your location”
“East side of the…”
The sound of metal and concrete cracking surprises you from behind, and you come face to face with the man.
He takes your gun and twists your arm, but you aim at one of the pipes in the ceiling to give you a few seconds to run. You can feel him going right behind you, dangerously close.
“The building is blowing up in five minutes, Y/N” Clint says.
“Thanks, I’m trying not to get killed by fucking Frankenstein” a heavy metal arm pulls you down, punching you two times until you’re gasping for air.
He then kicks you down a couple of stairs, and you hang on to the railing by an inch. Once he glances over to check if you’re still alive, you shoot at his eyes, protected by the mask.
Wrong move, as he’s not pleased in the slightest.
Dropping a few feet to the ground, you begin to run down the exit.
A few things happen at the same time.
You turn and see Natasha, breaking a door. You smile at her. Of course she wouldn’t leave. Her eyes widen, and when you turn around, the man is raising his gun.
Two shots and then you’re down, hot liquid spilling down your stomach and leg.
“Y/N” Natasha screams, throwing Widow Bites to the man. His arm is briefly paralized and Natasha takes advantage of the moment to help you up. You limp against her, feeling the building shake.
“Come on, Clint is waiting outside”
Luckily, the ceiling behind you begins to fall, putting some concrete between you and the man.
The next minutes are confusing, since you struggle to remain conscious.
“HQ, this is Barton. We have an agent down. We’ll be there soon” you hear Clint report. There’s a pressure in your abdomen but you can’t look down. “Natasha, I have to fly this thing, keep her awake”
“Y/N” the woman says, trying to stop the bleeding. “Look at me. You can’t fall asleep now”
“I’ll be fine. You were great today, Natasha. I knew you’d be a great agent. Would you tell my mom that I…?”
“Tell her yourself”
“Don’t be a сука” you mumble, your eyelids heavier.
“What is the one thing you always wanted to do?” she asks, desperate to keep you talking.
“I always wanted a cat. My sister’s allergic” you drag your words. But then, you turn to the redhead, smiling. “What about you?”
“A rollercoaster” Natasha says without hesitation. Your smile grows.
“We’ll go to Connie Island, it’s gonna be so much fun…”
“Y/N, stay with me, don’t close your eyes”
But you’re too tired to listen.
“Her family should be here any minute” Fury steps in, eyeing your bruised face. Three surgeries later and the doctors think you have a pretty good chance of recovering.
Natasha and Clint are sitting by your side, their eyes glued to the monitor that keeps beeping.
“The man… had any of you seen him before?”
“I thought he was a myth” Natasha says, the image of the metal arm and the symbol on it etched on her brain. “They call him the Winter Soldier”
“KGB?” Clint guesses.
“HYDRA”
“That’s ten times worse” Fury sighs, turning to the Russian. “We’ll need your help to figure out who he is. But for now… nice job”
“I should have done more” Natasha says when Fury leaves the room.
“She’s alive because of you” Clint protests. “But you should let me know, I thought you were running away. When you want to pull a rescue, at least tell me where to fly the jet”
“Ok” the redhead nods.
“Let’s get something to eat. You know Y/N wouldn’t want you to starve yourself”
When Natasha and Clint come back to your room, Maria is talking to an older woman. She has eyes like yours, and a smilar hair color, which makes Natasha think it’s your mother.
“You saved my daughter” she says as soon as Natasha walks in. Your mother hugs her tight, thanking her.
She has no idea that this is all new to Natasha, especially the hugging part.
“Let’s go over some forms” Maria rescues the redhead, walking the older woman to the door.
Her words echo and Natasha goes over them till she loses count.
She’s never saved a life before. She never had someone thanking her for keeping a loved one safe.
Maybe, there’s hope for her after all.
It’s been a few days and you have yet to open your eyes.
Natasha stays next to you, and reads out loud the way you did for her. Your mom is in the couch, knitting as she listens, keeping an eye on the girl.
Even if she’s not aware of Natasha’s circunstamces, she can tell there are strong feelings involved between you two.
“How long have you been at SHIELD?” the woman says, examining the green pattern on the scarf she’s knitting.
“Not long” Natasha tenses, hoping it won’t be necessary to bring up her past as a former assassin.
“Y/N’s father was in the CIA. Her sisters were more… I don’t know. They argued over clothes and wanted to wear makeup. Y/N would work on cars with her dad or build stuff”
“That sounds nice”
“It was, yes. Drives me crazy that she risks her life for a living. But it’s in her blood, I guess”
“She’s a great agent. And a wonderful person. You did a good job raising her”
“You’re too kind” the woman says, pulling the scarf and presenting it to the redhead. “Here. This color brings out your beautiful eyes”
Natasha is hesitant as she takes the green scarf, inspecting the fine knitting and feeling the softness of the fabric against her fingertips.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you”
“Thank you. For saving her. I’m happy to know my daughter has wonderful partners. I like you, Natasha”
“I’m glad to hear that, because I kinda gave her the secret pasta recipe” you say with a weak voice, making both women rush to your side.
“Oh, sweetheart” your mom says, running her hands through your hair.
“Sorry to make you come all the way here. I know you hate flying”
“No, don’t be silly. Plus, I’ve spent some time getting to know Natasha. You guys make a great couple”
“Ma!” you protest, the monitor beeping loudly as your mother teases you. “Would you be a dear and get the doctor? I really want to eat something that isn’t hospital food”
Your mother rolls her eyes, but leaves and you stare at Natasha.
“Thank you for saving me”
“It’s nothing”
“It’s not nothing. I’m alive because of you, Natasha Romanoff”
“I guess it’s our thing, isn’t it? Saving each other” she smiles, her hand inching towards yours.
“Yes. Yes it is”
The doctor promises you’ll be discharged in a few days, but there’s a long road ahead for your recovery. At least six months without missions.
Fury stops by, surprising you.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, eyeing the box of chocolates that Maria brought you. “You mind?”
“Help yourself, boss” he picks a sweet and nods approvingly, clearly stalling. “Come on, you’re not one to sugarcoat things”
“The drive you took. It does have some very detailed information on Stark’s tech. I know we discussed an undercover mission a while back… but I decided to send Natasha instead”
“As what? I was supposed to be a new engineer on his team”
“Legal. Close to Pepper Potts. And hopefully, Agent Romanoff will charm Stark”
“Oh, Nick. Come on, not the playboy angle” you protest. There’s an unpleasant feeling at the pit of your stomach as you imagine Natasha dealing with Stark’s advances.
“It is what we have, Y/L/N. Take some time, recover and come back. I have a feeling we’ll need all the help we can get”
“Yes, Director Fury” you nod, as Natasha walks in. The man nods, and you can tell he trusts Natasha now. It’s a relief.
“How are you feeling?” Natasha says, pulling the usual chair next to your bed.
“Happy that I get to go home. soon Not so excited over my mom running around my place cleaning and complaining”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could stay but…”
“You have missions. I heard you’re booked and busy, Agent Romanoff”
“Well, yes” she smiles, blushing lightly.
“Is that what you want? Because that’s all that matters to me”
“I want to do good. Clean my ledger”
“You’ll do great. I know it” you reach for her hand, smiling.
“I could… put it off. For a few months. It won’t be a big deal”
But you can see how eager she is. To prove herself she’s so much more than the Red Room. That she’s not just the Black Widow.
She’s Natasha Romanoff.
“I’m not going anywhere, Nat. You’ll always have me. Ok?”
“Ok” she nods, looking away, but keeping her hand in yours.
Deep down, you knew this was only the start of your journey together.
207 notes · View notes
look-at-the-soul · 3 months
Text
Always with me
(Modern)Tommy Shelby x reader (+Grandma) 👵🏻
Hello beautiful people! Hoping you’re doing well 💞 It took me so long to finish this little story because for some reason I kept thinking it needed something else but couldn’t find what it was, then one day I thought this is it, don’t force it, the main point it’s there… sometimes less is more or so they say. Either way, I hope you like this!
Just to let you know this is part of a series of stories (not linked between them) about my Grandma’s series to honor one of the persons who had the biggest impact in my life and I recently lost. This is a small tribute and a way to cope with her not being around anymore.
Grief and sadness is mentioned but as usual I compensate with fluff and happiness ❤️‍🩹 thank you for your endless support, it means so much.
Word count: 3,602
✨ Inspired by Westlife song “Always with me”
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They say that time can heal a broken heart
But I just don't know how this could be true
Everyday I see a picture on my wall
My heart is broken into two
Tommy poured two glasses of wine and headed to the couch, next to his girlfriend. She had been staring absently at the fire flames flicking before her eyes, she didn’t even notice when Frances asked if they wanted something for dinner. But he already knew the answer, it was one of those moments when Y/N’s mind wandered back in time to some memory with her grandmother.
Her energy felt so low, the sadness in her eyes made him feel hopeless, and with the holidays around the corner he knew it wouldn’t help to lift her up, as he knew the days meant so much for her. If only he could find a way to make her focus on something else, a distraction.
His eyes fixed on her features as she brought the glass to her mouth.
“You’re wearing lipstick.” He noticed a subtle tone.
A ridiculous suggestion he made when Y/N asked how to get back on track. Try to focus in small things, the finest details you used to do without even thinking about it. Like using your favorite lipstick, he had said back then.
The glimpse of a smile formed on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes, so taking both glasses he placed them on the table to then pass an arm behind Y/N’s neck to bring her closer.
“I know it’s not been easy for you, but take your time to heal… it’s okay to not being okay.”
His fingers massaged gently her scalp and Tommy felt Y/N relaxing against him, really allowing him to hold her, not just physically.
“I miss her.” Her voice cracked at the end, and felt Tommy’s hands hugging her tighter.
“I know, love. I miss her too, but you know what? I just noticed you’ve got so many mannerisms like her.”
Y/N’s head moved back to give him a confused look.
“You do, just as you were sipping coffee this morning, the way you hugged Charlie it made me remember every time we visited your grandma and she hugged you.”
“You think so?” Surprise washed over her.
Tommy nodded.
“You’ve got lots of things from her, both physically and internally.” He brushed a rebel lock away from her face and looked at her with adoring eyes. “I realized you look so much alike in this photo.”
Fishing his phone in his pocket, Tommy searched for the image he was looking for, a candid image he snapped from Y/N when she wasn’t looking.
“You never told me you took this.” She was surprised by how much she looked like her grandmother indeed.
“If you put them side by side, it’ll be more obvious.” A genuine smile appeared on his lips.
“It’s lovely, thanks. I’ll make a collage.” Y/N leaned in to brush her lips against his. “Do you mind if I go to sleep? I’m exhausted.”
“I’ll join you in a minute, just want to check Charlie.”
“My God, he must be so confused for not having the Christmas tree yet.” Worry was evident in her voice.
“Don’t worry about it baby, I’ll take care of it.” He then joined her in the middle of the hall to give Y/N one more reassuring kiss. Making sure she was upstairs, he called Frances. “Would you help me pack a small suitcase for Charlie and another one for Y/N, leave them by the door so the driver can place them in the back of the car.”
“Of course Mr. Shelby.” The maid nodded.
“Oh and Frances? Make sure to pack yours as well, I need you to look after Charlie.”
Leaving the maid perplexed, Tommy went upstairs.
***
“Since Charlie isn’t cooperating, Frances would you explain why all this mystery?”
Charlie grinned and gave Frances one long and expectant look.
“I’m afraid I don’t know madam.”
Y/N tried getting Tommy to talk, but it was useless. Suddenly he was more interested in the sky than in the interrogation she was making.
“Wow, look at that plane!” Charlie pointed out.
It was until then that Y/N realized of where they were going. The airport.
“Tommy.”
One look and she knew.
“Tom-”
“Just relax, okay?” He interrupted. “For once. All you need to do is get on that plane.”
“Can I ask…?”
“Nope.” He perched his signature Ray Bans against his nose and offered his hand so Y/N could get out of the car.
“Let’s go!” Charlie shouted, leaving them behind.
“Frances?” Y/N tried again.
“Oh Miss Y/LN I know the same thing as you.”
The crew of the private plane greeted them and offered drinks and breakfast, and Y/N still didn’t know the destination. She was worried not being able to take control over the smallest thing, because Tommy was taking care of absolutely everything.
“Fine.” She mumbled leaning against the window.
“Finally! Now we can start our little holiday.” Tommy squeezed her hand. “I know you didn’t feel like celebrating for what it means this time without your grandmother, but Y/N, she would wanted you to smile and be happy.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Wherever you choose to celebrate or not, your grandma will be right with you, in your heart.”
“I know, but it’s not the same without her.”
Tommy wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye tenderly.
“Sweetheart, I don’t want you to spend this Christmas sitting on the couch crying.”
He wanted to compensate for her sadness. And although nothing would her back what she wanted the most, he could try to make her happy. He was right, and the effort meant more than she could express, so with a sigh she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment.
“Dad! Look!” Charlie’s nose was glued to the window. Frances looking over his shoulder.
That’s when Y/N realized….
“Paris?”
“We’ll always have Paris.” Tommy whispered.
Y/N wasn’t able to hold back the tears any longer.
She knew when she was around six years old, her grandma took her to Paris to visit some family, but the memories were blurred in her mind. Through her grandmother’s eyes she had been able to know some parts of their adventure together. A few photographs but that was pretty much all.
Either way, she felt a special connection to the place and that quote was something her grandmother constantly said, as it was one of greatest experiences she had with Y/N. And they both treasured it close to their hearts.
“It’s time to make our own memories.” Tommy’s voice made her go back into reality. “What do you say?”
She wanted to ask him a million questions, but decided to just let everything flow. In the end he really took care of everything, prepared even the smallest detail of their trip and gave her that reassuring smile that let her know everything would be alright.
As they stepped outside the airport, snow welcomed them, everything was covered in a white layer. But it only added an even more beautiful vibe to their trip.
“I love you, you know that?” Y/N closed her hands around his neck and pulled Tommy for a brief kiss while Frances and Charlie took their seats in the vehicle.
“I do.” He gave another one back. “And I love you too.”
“This is beautiful.” Y/N beamed as they rode through the Parisian streets.
“Actually… shall we stop?” Tommy proposed, while Y/N gave him a confused look. “It’s fine, Frances will make sure the bags are checked in and we’ll go back in a bit.”
Making sure Charlie had the scarf around his neck, Y/N covered her hands with her gloves, while Tommy’s hand wrapped around the small of her back as they strolled around.
“Dad I want to go the carrousel!” Charlie announced excitedly. With his father’s approval, the kid stormed towards the attraction impatiently.
“Bet you were just like that.” Y/N mumbled to herself but loud enough for Tommy to throw his head back and laugh.
“Guess you could say that.”
“Look! Just like Winter!” Charlie pointed at the white horse figure, thinking of their horse back home.
“Just like her huh? Think you can handle this one?”
“Of course, it’s a fake.” Charlie retorted making Y/N smile.
Paying for Charlie’s ticket, they stepped aside to see him riding.
Using her phone, Y/N captured a candid photo of Charlie waving at them, a big smile on his small face.
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“What is it?”
“Nothin’ just wish Ruby could be here as well.” Tommy cleared his throat and pretended to be busy with a cigarette.
Y/N knew deep down that fearless man was a sweet man with a good heart who cared deeply of his people.
“I’m sure you’ll reach an agreement with Lizzie later on, she’s still a one year old girl.” Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder to comfort him.
“It’s hard to believe she’ll let me anywhere near Ruby.”
“You’re her father, you’ve the right to see her.”
These holidays had been hard for him as well.
“You know what? I don’t want to talk about anything that might ruin this, you, Charlie, me right here it’s all that matters.” He stated before taking a deep puff of smoke.
“Thank you, for cheering me up.” Stepping in front of him, Y/N captured his lips in a kiss full of gratitude.
“Careful, you might get us arrested and only one of us knows French.” Tommy joked with a sparkle in his eyes. His hands sneaking under her coat.
“I see why you brought Frances then.”
“I always have a plan.” He winked at her.
She could feel a thousand butterflies in her stomach by the way he smiled. “Santa said you’ve been a good girl.”
Y/N blushed. “Oh… and what about you mister?”
“Nah… I’m the bad boy your grandmother warned you about.” Another wink by him and she produced another smile as Charlie ran towards them. “But what you gonna do about it? It’s kind of late now to back down.” He added jokingly.
“She loved you too.” Bending down, Y/N asked Charlie if he enjoyed the ride. “Who wants some hot chocolate?”
“Me! Me! Me!” Charlie shouted.
Tommy groaned. “If you find the button to turn him off let me know.”
“You’re so mean, as if I did the same to you.”
“No, Y/N you turn me on.” Tommy admitted just before Y/N moved her hand to cover his mouth, he was taking advantage of Charlie’s innocence and the mischievous grin on his face gave him away.
Sipping on her hot chocolate cup, Y/N allowed a small glimpse of happiness, it was a beautiful place, the Christmas decoration providing a gorgeous sighting, everyone oozing happiness. The snowy weather made the sighting look out of a Christmas postal.
She was torn between enjoying her favorite season and the grief she carried in her heart. It was her first holidays without her grandmother and her empty chair was definitely evident. She was at a much better place now, no doubt but her absence felt heavy in Y/N’s heart.
Grief is just all the love with no place to go after all.
Noticing the sadness in her eyes, Tommy stopped at a stand, looking for the ornaments they had to decorate the Christmas tree.
“Are you looking for something special?” The man asked.
“Yes… a house ornament.” Tommy replied, feeling Y/N’s eyes on him. “Do you guys want something?”
“A reindeer!” Charlie’s eyes shining.
Y/N took her time studying the ornaments, until one caught her attention.
Following her eyes, Tommy had to swallow the lump in his throat. I have an Angel in heaven, called Grandma. It read. It was the one.
Kissing her temple, Tommy offered his embrace as they waited to get their decorations.
“Dad why did you choose the house?” Charlie asked with curiosity.
Getting a cab for them, he looked at his son. “I’ll tell you later about it.”
Y/N looked the exchange in silence, but also wondering the meaning behind his choice. She’s expect him to choose something with a dark humor behind instead.
“Look Charlie, the Eiffel Tower’s lights are flicking again.” Y/N pointed as they drove in the opposite direction, back to their hotel.
“Okay this is the plan, Charlie you’re heading to bed the second we step into the hotel, no questions. Tomorrow we’re having breakfast and then we’re going to a flea market.”
“Tommy…” Y/N gasped.
“What? You always said you wanted to see the Eiffel Tower and a flea market in that same order.”
“I know, but how do you remember?”
Scoffing, Tommy gave her the look. “Sweetheart, I pay attention.”
“Only thing that sucks is Santa doesn’t know I’m here.” Charlie complained once in front of their door.
With a smile, Tommy opened the door for them, making them both gasp loudly as they saw the huge Christmas tree in the middle, fully decorated with presents wrapped all around.
“Well I might have informed him we would be traveling and changed the address.” He admitted pleased with himself. He wanted them to have the nicest possible holiday. “Why don’t we add our ornaments?”
Tommy took her by surprise, not only for the trip, but for the tree as well, she thought about sneaking around the shops of the hotel to buy Charlie something thinking he wouldn’t get anything, but Tommy thought of everything.
“This is beautiful, thank you.” Y/N wrapped her arms around his torso, feeling so grateful to have him in her life.
“Presents are meant to be open until tomorrow morning though.”
“But Daaad.”
“No buts, off to bed.”
Pouting, Charlie walked towards Y/N. “Goodnight Y/N Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas Charlie, have a good night.” She hugged the boy and kissed the top of his head.
“Night Dad.” He then said. “Merry Christmas.”
“See you tomorrow son, Merry Christmas.”
Watching him disappear, Tommy took Y/N by the hand.
“Want to know why I chose the house?”
“Absolutely.” She brushed the fringe from his forehead with her fingers.
“Because that’s my only wish this Christmas… to build a home with you, Y/N. A proper house; our own title team, we’ve talked about the future, well it’s finally here, in this moment. You made me realize of what I truly want, what I dream of.” Getting on one knee, Tommy showed her an old jewelry box. “I know you miss your grandma terribly and no one will ever fill her place in your heart, but in some way, she found a way to show you she’ll always be right next to you, she gave me this ring, she wanted you to have it and be as happy as she was during her marriage. Will you marry me?”
He looked at her with tears in his eyes, fighting to say the words as emotions took over.
“Tommy…” bending down she kissed him. “Wait a second, this is her engagement ring?”
Taking the delicate piece from the box, he smiled proudly.
“Before she passed away, she gave it to me to propose you with her ring.”
Her head was spinning, her heart drumming against her ribs.
“She did what? When?” Shock was written all over her face.
“Can you please say yes first? So I can get up.” He groaned.
“Yes of course!” She kissed him again, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“When we took her to the clinic, as you were asked to fill the papers with her information, the nurse just left,” he explained as the memories of that day came back to him, “she asked me if I really loved you, to which the answer is pretty obvious. Then she asked me in case something happened to her to go to her house and open the safe to get her engagement ring and keep it until it was the right time to give it to you, she wanted you to have it as she knew how much you’d miss her.”
Y/N sobbed as Tommy’s voice cracked.
“She said to me make her even happier than I was, and the day she walks down the aisle, I’ll be right by her side.”
“I thought it was lost or stolen, as I went through her belongings.” Y/N wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes.
“She wanted you to have it, with a different meaning.”
“It’s the most perfect ring I’ve ever seen.” She looked down at her left hand, the stone shining under the chandelier.
“Just Iike you’re to me.” He pulled his now fiancé for a hug. “She wanted you to be happy, to live life to the fullest. Said you were her favorite grandchild.”
Her lower lip trembled just as his hands came to rest at each side of her head.
“Just don’t let anyone else listen.” They said in unison to what Y/N’s grandma used to confess.
“I know you lost a huge part of yourself when she left. But you have to know that you were right beside her through everything, you enjoyed her in every moment, every visit, dinner and chance you had, you took care of her until her very last breath, and no one can take that away from you. Find peace in that. You loved her as much as she loved you.”
Tommy caressed her face with his thumbs.
“Now you have to keep that promise, and be happy. For her. For us.”
Y/N could only nod. Words were stuck in her throat.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Y/N expressed in a whisper, staring at her grandmother’s engagement ring.
“We’re getting married.” Tommy assured her, thumbs caressing her cheeks. “Eh? Soon to be Mrs. Shelby.”
Y/N blushed. “That sounds promising.”
Taking her by surprise, Tommy grabbed her from the waist to spin her around, making Y/N gasp and hold onto him tightly.
Trying to hold back the tears, Y/N hugged Tommy closing her eyes for an instant.
“What’s crossing your mind?” He asked.
And for the first time in a while, he saw the way the smile reached Y/N’s eyes.
“Thinking how grandma will always be with me.”
****
As usual your feedback means the world to me ♥️✨
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165 notes · View notes
jahayla-parker · 3 months
Text
Closure : Kaz Brekker x Reader
Description: 5.7k wc, Kaz’s wife seeks help from Nina to allow Kaz to get some closure surrounding Jordie’s death. Hurt-comfort, fluff, slight angst (turned fluff), healing.
Warnings: typical Six of Crows and Grishaverse warnings, mentions of death and funerals and related topics, mentions of trauma and injuries, etc. Again, typical SoC warnings.
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Out of the corner of her eyes, y/n watched Kaz closely. She could tell her husband was trying to act as if it wasn’t impacting him. But y/n knew better. She could see the distant look in his eyes as he tried to focus on the numbers for the Crow Club’s books.
Kaz owned his family’s farm back in Lij; under an alias, of course. He’d always had eyes on the land even while he stayed in the Barrel. But once y/n was informed of the existence of the property, she had begun to take the occasional trip to the area to check on it for herself/themselves rather than relying on Kaz’s intel. Y/n often did these trips as part of a journey to visit the other crows. Y/n would always update Kaz to the state of the property once she returned home. Over time, she also began tending to the land in small increments; planting the seeds from Kaz for her favorite flower in the planter boxes she bought from a market in Ketterdam, sweeping the wind blown debris from the rooms of the little house on the property, etc.
Kaz had made the occasional trip back as well, but primarily relied on y/n’s detailed descriptions, stories, and analysis of their place in Lij. It was hard for him to go back; for many reasons. But, he couldn’t deny he missed it. He also couldn’t -though he certainly tried- ignore the way he felt when he and y/n were on the farm in Lij. It was uncomfortable in the sense that it was unfamiliar. But it was otherwise peaceful and homely. Not that it mattered. Kaz’s life was here; in Ketterdam, in the Barrel.
The couple had talked about moving at some point, but the conversation would always fade out when it came to what they’d be leaving behind. While most of their closest friends had all parted from the Barrel and Ketterdam entirely, there was still something -or someone- they’d be leaving behind. Jordie. Kaz’s late older brother who was resting under the cold harbor of Ketterdam.
While Kaz felt guilty for not being able to leave the area, he knew y/n more than understood his reasoning. Yet, that didn’t stop him from having to face his racing thoughts on the matter tonight. He felt as if his head was spinning. He wanted to offer his wife a comfortable life, a life in his childhood town, where she would be safe and free to do as she wished, where he might be able to put his past behind him. After all, he’d gotten his vengeance on Rollins. The only thing keeping Kaz here in the grungy streets of the Barrel -other than the easy influx of Kruge, which he could surely find a way to continue if he left- was his brother. It was foolish. Jordie was dead. He’d died long ago and he wasn’t coming back. Kaz’s staying here wouldn’t change that. Yet it felt wrong to leave the place his brother was, even if it was the same place that had taken that brother from him.
“I’m off to see Mila Jandersdat,” y/n said, breaking the silence.
Kaz smirked at the unnecessary use of Nina’s undercover name. “Is that so?” “Well, tell Ms. Jandersdat that she still owes me a new hat,” he commented lightly, referencing the one the Grisha had stolen on her last departure from Ketterdam.
Y/n laughed. “I’ll be sure to let the Fjerdan Prince know that their spouse is still indebted to you,” she teased, leaning down. Upon noticing Kaz didn’t react in a way that told her stop, she placed a kiss to his cheek.
Kaz looked up from his desk as y/n turned to move towards the door. He grabbed her hands in his bare ones. “Take my coat,” he instructed.
“It’s not that co-” y/n protested futilely.
“Take my coat,” Kaz echoed.
Y/n huffed lightly but nodded. “I’ll be back after the bakery, you’ll sure you don’t want to join?” She waited patiently for Kaz to answer. For the first time ever when asking that question, she actually hoped he’d say no. He usually did, and she hoped that was the case again today as she wanted to talk to Nina alone.
Kaz rewarded y/n’s kindness with a small but appreciative smile. He shook his head. “The ledger needs work,” he mumbled vaguely. In reality, he was just too in-his-head to handle anything else. He squeezed his wife’s hands faintly as he watched her depart.
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Y/n swallowed another sip of her lemonade as she prepared to switch the tone of the visit she was having with Nina. She’d let her friend catch her up on everything she had done since they last saw each other. But now, y/n needed to ask her for a favor. “Okay, so…,” y/n began with an audible shift in her tone.
“Mmm?” Nina questioned knowingly as she glanced up from her plate.
“I need a favor,” y/n explained cautiously. She bit her lip as she waited for Nina’s reaction.
Nina sighed. “I don’t do Brekker favors anymore,” she reminded y/n.
“He’s not asking, I am,” y/n clarified. “Although he does want his hat back, or a new one in place of it,” she added to break the tension.
Nina laughed loudly. “Okay, if it’s for you, sure,” she accepted.
“I haven’t even asked,” y/n pointed out, “you don’t know what it is I’m asking you to do”.
“Doesn’t matter,” Nina winked.
Y/n giggled and shook her head with a timid smile gracing her lips.
“What is it?” Nina questioned, taking another bite of her cinnamon waffle.
“It involves your newly acquired skill set,” y/n mumbled quietly.
“Go on,” Nina urged, waving her fork at her friend.
Y/n bit her lip nervously and sighed. “I need nothing more than help to locate someone…” she explained, hoping to minimize the weight of her request.
“Someone deceased,” Nina clarified knowingly.
“Yes,” y/n acknowledged.
“Why?” The Grisha questioned as she swallowed another large bite.
“Closure…” y/n explained vaguely. She knew Kaz was needlessly embarrassed that he didn’t even know the exact placement of his late brother’s body in Ketterdam. Y/n had once suggested he visit Jordie to help him heal, even if he didn’t believe that kind of thing. Only, that was when she learned how deep Kaz’s guilt went. He didn’t know Jordie’s exact location and he blamed himself for that.
Y/n didn’t feel like she was crossing any boundaries. Nina already knew of Kaz’s brother; they all did by now. Plus, Y/n had asked Kaz before if he would want to know where Jordie was. In doing so, she learned he did want to know, just hadn’t initiated the process; an area where he often needed a push or assistance with.
It didn’t take long for y/n to explain to Nina what she needed from her. Nor did it take long for Nina to put her new skills to work in locating Jordie’s body. Y/n had of course gone with her, and she was pleased Kaz didn’t have to experience that part. While Nina’s skills were impressive, they were also a bit disturbing when you knew the deceased person she was calling out to. Nevertheless, Nina succeeded. Meaning y/n could now offer her husband the chance for more closure when it came to his past.
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Y/n and Kaz were donned in matching black overcoats, walking with their elbow linked, as they made their way through the streets of the Barrel. Y/n had informed her husband of her discovery and offered for him to go alone or for her to go with him, leaving it up to him. Kaz didn’t directly ask her to go with him, but he made it clear that was what he wanted. So, the couple had departed from the Crow Club and were now watching as people parted to make way for the Barrel’s most powerful couple.
Y/n silently waited beside Kaz as he stood staring out at the water in the exact place Nina stated she located Jordie. It was clear he was trying not to get emotional, his eyes twinkling as he fought back tears. “You don’t have to do this,” y/n whispered supportively, “or we can break it up, I just thought maybe-”.
“No, it’s fine,” Kaz muttered shortly. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed. “You…” he began, trying to find a way to properly thank y/n for bringing him this chance. “I need to do this,” he admitted. “I should’ve years ago”.
Y/n shook her head. “That’s not how this works,” she defended.
The tears slowly trickling down Kaz’s face softened the intense sensation of drowning that filled his chest as he stared silently at the water where Jordie’s body allegedly was. The flashbacks that played in his mind were powerful, but less severe than they had been when he first started getting them years ago. And the now-comforting feeling of y/n’s hand in his kept him tethered to reality, to the moment; keeping him from succumbing to the feeling of drowning.
Y/n watched as Kaz kept his eyes closed for awhile. She didn’t say a word. She just watched his facial expression, listened to his breathing pattern, and kept a close eye on his overall state.
When he was done standing on the shore before his brother’s sunken body, Kaz turned to his wife. “Thank you,” he whispered shakily to her.
“Course,” y/n said, squeezing Kaz’s hand. She could tell he was still fighting off the rising water in his chest so she moved her hand to his jacket-covered elbow. “Let’s get you home,” she suggested warmly as she guided them back to the Slat.
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“Th-” Kaz cleared his throat as he looked up from his dresser to make eye contact with y/n through the mirror. “Thank you,” he whispered gruffly. He took a long deep breath before adding, “for having me go”.
“Of course,” y/n hummed softly. She watched Kaz’s facial expressions in the mirror as she pushed her boots off with her feet. “So, it helped then?” She asked, trying to confirm she’d read through his faux stoic expression properly.
Kaz shifted his gaze back to his dresser as he stripped his outer layers off. “I know he’s gone,” he stated simply. But, his shoulders loosened and lowered as he nodded slowly. “But… yes, it did.”
“I’m glad,” y/n said and smiled tenderly as she crawled into their bed. She scooted under the covers as she analyzed Kaz as he prepared for the night. She could see that while it would still take time, today’s adventure had initiated a healing journey that hadn’t truly begun before now.
“You can tell Ms. Jandersdat that I don’t need a new hat,” Kaz mumbled as he approached the bed. He noticed y/n’s grin and small chuckle. He smirked and took a deep breath before he carefully slid into his side of the bed. “Goodnight, y/n/n,” he whispered as he uncharacteristically let his left hand cross the space between them under the sheets and rest atop y/N’s.
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Y/n sighed as she searched the last possible place in the Slat that Kaz might have been. She’d already searched the Crow Club before she headed here. Yet, she still hadn’t located him. As she thought about where else her husband might have snuck off to, she thought back through what had transpired in the first place.
They had been sitting together in Kaz’s office this evening when he got word that there’d been an incident. One of his lead Dregs had informed him that this young orphan boy had somehow managed to find himself getting mixed up with Kaz’s crew. He hadn’t reacted well. The young orphan would be fine, but Kaz had set clear rules for his Dregs and this was a violation. He had stormed off to chew out his crew over the mistake. Y/n had been beside him as he lashed out at the Dregs and informed them of the sanctions for such an incident. Meaning she was there when he announced that as part of their consequences he was going to be taking their wages for the week. He’d grumbly whispered to her as he requested that she take the sum of their wages and ensure the boy’s hospital stay was paid for (and give him the remainder as compensation). When y/n had returned from doing so, she noticed Kaz’s disappearance.
Y/n knew as soon as they heard of the incident what Kaz would feel and how he’d react. She also knew why. The situation was far too familiar and personal for him. So, it hadn’t surprised her when he was not in the Slat nor the Crow Club when she arrived. However, it wasn’t until she remembered his behavior over the last several weeks that she realized where he must be.
Y/n buttoned her coat as she made her way to the harbor. She knew Kaz had to be there. It made sense when she recalled how often he’d been coming here since the day two months ago when she and Nina located Jordie. She had made a makeshift generic headstone (knowing Kaz wouldn’t want people to know the meaning or significance of the place much less connecting it to him) for the site so that if Kaz wished to return on his own he could do so easily; even if he was distracted by the emotional turmoil in his mind upon doing so. She and Kaz had went to the site together multiple times. And in the last few weeks he’d even gone by himself. It would make sense that today’s triggers would bring him back to the site that he now found some kind of connection and healing at.
Y/n saw him instantly. It didn’t matter that Ketterdam was pitch black at his hour and that Kaz was dressed head to toe in coal black clothing. She’d recognize Kaz’s silhouette and shadow no matter what. She watched him closely as she approached. He’d been getting better at opening up to her and even to himself since first coming here. But there was only so much he could do while staying stoic and keeping up his menacing image for the public. So it was no surprise that even tonight he was still keeping a wall up. He was shaking slightly, his breathing sharp and fists clenched. She could see he was still furious over what had happened, but the shine of the moon highlighted the fact his eyes were more moist than normal. It was progress, he was letting himself grieve finally. She debated about whether to approach or just say back and let him have his space. But, before she could determine what the best option was, Kaz answered it for her.
“You do not need to spy on your husband from the shadows,” Kaz muttered, his fists unraveling as he pictured the bashful expression that was likely gracing y/n’s face over his teasing comment. His back was to her as he stayed looking out at the harbor, but he heard her approaching. He extended the hand not holding his cane to the side, taking hold of her hand when she reached him. His eyes flickered over at her as he quickly scanned her to ensure she was dressed properly for the cold weather and had brought her weapon with her. After his eyes took in that she was wearing the thick winter coat he’d gotten her last year, long pants, boots, and saw the outline of her weapon in her coat pocket, he let out a silent sigh of relief. “It was a joke,” Kaz muttered as he watched y/n’s face.
“What?” Y/n questioned, her head turning to face Kaz.
“My comment, when you arrived,” Kaz explained. “It was a joke”. He squeezed her hand as he interlaced their fingers. “I mean, you don’t have to spy, but-”
“I wasn’t spying,” y/n argued.
Kaz lifted his brows teasingly as he gazed knowingly at y/n.
Y/n chuckled and shook her head. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be alone,” she explained.
Kaz hummed. “I always want to be alone,” he admitted, looking back at the water. “Especially when… feeling like… well… feeling,” he simplified. He shook his head as his gaze returned to his wife’s presence. “Unless it’s you,” Kaz confessed, his cold cheeks thawing briefly as he blushed madly.
Y/n grinned at Kaz and squeezed his hand. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she promised. It was an indirect vow to fight off any uncertainty on how to proceed when Kaz was dealing with something. But, they both knew what it meant. Kaz was healing, he was being more open and honest, more needing of and seeking out his wife’s love and support when he needed it instead of shutting down and trying to push her away.
“What do you think would help you get closure?” Y/n questioned once she saw the faint calmness take over Kaz’s face.
“This helped,” Kaz admitted, referred to y/n having gotten Nina to help find Jordie’s body.
“I know, I can see it,” y/n hummed as she tenderly smiled over at Kaz. “And, I’m glad”. Y/n rubbed her thumb over the back of Kaz’s hand. “I know you don’t have faith or a religious belief of any kind, but,” she hesitated briefly, continuing only as Kaz squeezed her hand, “do you think a burial might help?”
“What?” Kaz croaked out in confusion and shock. He wasn’t sure what he expected y/n to say as a possible solution. But, he’d never anticipated that.
“Burying him,-” y/n began cautiously.
Kaz stiffened as he glared out at the water before them. “He is buried,” he pointed out.
“Right, yeah, no I know, Kaz,” y/n agreed sympathetically. “But, you hate the harbor, and well, water,” she frowned, “even outside of this, it’s distressing for you”. She sighed as she gazed out at the water as well. “So I thought maybe… I’d suggest that you think about an underground burial for him”. Y/n knowingly moved her hand around in Kaz’s hold when he tensed so that he wouldn’t feel as if he was holding a cold & stiff hand. “You’d still have a place to visit him, and-” she explained slowly.
“I can’t,” Kaz told y/n, cutting her off.
Y/n analyzed her husband’s face as she thought over her next words. “You wouldn’t have to see anything,” she promised. She knew he’d never admit such a vulnerability out loud while they were out in the public, but she knew it was likely one of his hesitations; Kaz already had Jordie’s dead body engraved in his mind, he didn’t need to see it again. “It would be done in secret, in the background, just Nina and I, we’d handle the-” y/n elaborated.
Kaz suddenly sharply turned to face y/n. His anxious eyes scanned her face as he tried to read if she was lying. “You’d do that?” He asked.
Y/n nodded affirmatively. “If you wanted, yes,” she promised. “I’m not expecting you to want to see, touch, or otherwise deal with any of this, Kaz”.
Kaz nodded slowly. He turned from y/n as he thought about her proposal. After a few moments of silence, he shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Okay,” y/n replied, squeezing Kaz’s hand. “That’s fine,” she assured him. “I knew you might not want to, I figured I’d offer but-”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want that,” Kaz spoke sharply. He closed his eyes painfully tight and sighed as he regretted his tone. His regret increased as he noticed the way his wife paused. Kaz took a deep but shaky breath before continuing. “It’s just…” he sighed, “Lij”.
“What about it?” Y/n questioned delicately as she scanned her husband’s profile.
Kaz’s eyes flickered off the water and towards his feet. He sighed and shook his head. “That’s where we should be.” He lifted his gaze up to meet y/N’s as he added, “you love the house and-”.
“Kaz,” y/n sighed.
Kaz shook his head softly, a silent signal for y/n to wait for him to explain before trying to confront him. “I want to be there too,” he confessed, watching his wife’s face for her reaction. “For us to be there. Together.” He tried not to cringe at how broken his words were coming out. “Not just for a trip. But for our…h-ho-….” Kaz murmured in a hushed voice.
“Our home?” Y/n clarified. When Kaz nodded stiffly, she smiled softly. This too was a big step for him, in many ways. “I love that idea, you know that.”
Kaz broke his eye contact with y/n as she looked back out at the water. His face took on a saddened expression. “I can’t ignore what happened here or move on,” he said remorsefully.
“No one says you have to forget or ignore it,” y/n commented, squeezing Kaz’s slightly trembling hand. “If you wanted to do the burial,” she began carefully.
“If we did the burial,” Kaz sighed, “we’d still be stuck here or I’d have to come back”. He shook his head. “I mean not have to, but-”.
“Kaz,” y/n spoke tenderly in order to stop his rambling. “He could come with us,” she suggested.
“What?” Kaz whispered.
Y/n rubbed the back of Kaz’s hand with her thumb. “Nina and I could get him back to Lij,” she offered. “He could have a proper burial”. She hesitated but continued with her thought, “a funeral even”.
“No mourners, no-” Kaz griped.
“Kaz,” y/n giggled lightly. She smiled faintly as her giggle made Kaz’s lip curl. “This is different,” she explained.
“No funeral,” Kaz replied firmly. Despite his gruff voice, he squeezed his wife’s hand as a silent thank you for the offer.
“Okay,” y/n accepted easily.
“But…” Kaz trailed off.
“But?” Y/n pressed gently.
Kaz took a deep breath and sighed. “Perhaps.. I do owe it to him,” he began slowly. “To finally get him out of these waters”.
“Kaz-” y/n frowned.
Kaz sighed but nonetheless accepted y/n’s unspoken response. He revised his wording as he knew why he was being scolded. “I owe it to him… to let him rest,” he rephrased quietly. “Even if just his body”.
Y/n’s lips curled minutely. “Okay,” she nodded. “We can arrange that”.
Kaz’s grip on y/n’s hand tightened unconsciously as he thought about the arrangement more. “I don’t…. I can’t see his-” he mumbled.
“You won’t,” y/n promised. She knew he meant he couldn’t face seeing his late brother’s body. And she had never intended for him to. It was an easy promise. She and Nina would get Jordie to Lij for Kaz without Kaz having to be further traumatized in the process.
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Y/n’s eyes flickered between the wooden door that lead down to the cabin of Inej’s ship and the wooden casket that was being loaded on board.
Everything from their home was already packed and ready to depart via Inej’s ship to travel to the other end of Kerch; to Lij. Everything but Jodie. Y/n had sequestered her husband Kaz below deck with Wylan and Jesper to keep him company. Meanwhile, Nina, Inej, and several clueless Dregs, loaded Jordie’s coffin onto the ship. The engraved dark mahogany casket with elaborate metal hinges and personalized engraved metallic plating that was now encasing and hiding Jordie’s body had been made by Jesper and Wylan at y/n’s request. She and Nina had seen to getting Jordie’s body from the harbor to the casket undetected. Well, Nina managed Jordie’s body and ensured there was no lingering contagion nor decaying smell. While y/n had been on lookout in the immediate vicinity of the scene. And now Inej was helping them transport the unlabeled casket to Lij. It had been a full team effort and y/n was beyond grateful that her friends were so willing to help her with this.
Once the casket was secured, hidden from sight, and covered with a weather proof sheet, Y/n dismissed the clueless Dregs. She thanked the girls as she made her way down to the cabin below deck. She gave Kaz a small supportive smile in greeting as his eyes snapped towards her upon hearing her enter. She made her way over to the boys and sat down beside Kaz.
Kaz watched y/n fight her visible exhaustion as their friends chatted about their respective experiences in their new lives. He stared expectantly at her profile, waiting for her to glance his way in a silent question as to if she could rest against him. Only, she didn’t seem to notice. Instead, Kaz watched her eyes blink at an absurdly slow pace as she tried to fight a yawn. He stifled a chuckle, the suppressed desire to grin showing up as a faint smirk. He shook his head and nudged y/n. Kaz gave her a knowing look, pleased when she quickly comprehended his request and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Ready to give all this up?” Y/n asked in a whisper as her friends listened to Inej informing them of her latest adventures.
Kaz seemed to falter in shock. But, as he looked over at his wife, he nodded confidently. A smirk graced his lips as he murmured, “I’m always ready”.
Y/n giggled and playfully rolled her eyes. She leaned into his shoulder further as she smiled around at their friends. “Hey guys,” she whispered, quietly interrupting the conversation. When they turned to face her, she was greeted with several grins and knowing smirks given her current positioning with Kaz. “Thank you all for coming to help us move,” y/n hummed.
“You both helped us during ours,” Wylan commented with a smile.
“Well, y/n did,” Jesper corrected smugly, “Kaz just stood around”.
Kaz shot Jesper a light glare. “I was supervising,” he stated.
Y/n laughed loudly, covering her mouth with her hand when Kaz’s gaze snapped down at her questioningly. She giggled behind her hand as she tried to stifle her laughter. She lowered her hand and gave Kaz an innocent grin, making the corners of his lips curl up as he playfully shook his head at her.
———
Y/n made her way back down to the lower deck of Inej’s ship. She’d just gotten back from checking on the burial site. Earlier she’d arranged for one of the workers who’d been tending to the farm while they were away due a grave site prior to the crows’ arrival. Y/n had ensured that it was completed and was now returning to her husband as he waited below deck.
Y/n’s eyes met Kaz’s and she then glanced arrived the room in silent communication with him. She watched as Kaz nodded in understanding and acceptance that the others in the room, namely Jesper, was going to hear whatever she was about to say. She nodded back and walked to his side. “He’s in a casket, Kaz,” she explained tenderly. Y/n spared a look at Kaz’s hands and realized he must’ve caught on to her uncertainty as he randomly flipped his palm up and extended his hand towards her. She gave him a small smile and took his hand in hers. “We’re going to move him to the burial site,” she explained slowly, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. Y/n had a feeling she knew the answer to her question, but she didn’t want to not offer him the chance. “Did you want to come up and,-?” She began quietly.
“No,” Kaz replied stiffly as his body tensed.
“You don’t want to watch him go into,-” Jesper began to ask, not noticing the look y/n was giving him.
“No,” Kaz repeated gruffly. His hand tightened in y/n’s hold and he shifted his jaw. He managed a deep breath when her warm hand squeezed his lovingly.
“I know it’s hard,” Wylan said sympathetically. “But, it’s the only time-,” he argued, squinting in confusion at the realization y/n was shooting daggers at him.
“That’s enough,” y/n stated firmly. She shot her husband a subtle sympathetic look. She squeezed Kaz’s hand again, her thumb grazing the back of it as she went to move. She nodded her head at the others in signal for them to follow her.
———
“That was really beautiful, y/n,” Inej commented supportively as their group made their way back to the farmhouse.
Y/n smiled appreciatively at her friend. She and most of the other crows had all gone with her to help her bury Jordie’s casket and body. She intentionally buried him beside this one specific tree she recalled Kaz previously telling her a childhood story about. It was one of the few childhood memories Kaz actually had. While it was likely a story Jordie had passed down to Kaz, given Dirtyhands would’ve been too young to recall anything from his time here on his own, that almost made the location even more sentimental.
While y/n and the other crows respectfully buried Kaz’s late brother, Jesper had stayed behind to keep Kaz company. Not that Kaz would ever admit to needing or wanting such, even now. But his crows, his found family, knew him well enough.
As the group entered y/n and Kaz’s new home, Y/n greeted Jesper with the same appreciative grin she’d given the others after they helped with the burial. “Alright, so,” she murmured as her black boots echoed on the tiled flooring under her feet. “I say we unpack the bedroom stuff first?” Y/n asked, looking at her husband for his input, knowing Kaz wouldn’t want to talk about what she had just finished doing.
“That’s important,” Inej agreed, quickly picking up on y/n’s intentions.
“I’d say so,” Jesper smirked smugly as he winked over at the couple.
Y/n rolled her eyes. “Not like that, you degenerate,” she laughed. “I meant so that we would have something to sleep in. We can unpack over time but I kinda would like something to lay on,” she joked as she took her husband’s left hand in hers.
“Lay on… while wearing what?” Jesper teased as he wriggled his eyebrows.
Kaz used his unoccupied hand to smack Jesper upside the head as he also shot him a look.
“Whaaat?” Jesper whined as he held his head. He looked between y/n and Kaz as she parted from Kaz as she made her way over to the moving boxes.
“What do you mean what?!” Kaz remarked, his eyes scrutinizing his friend.
“Wylan doesn’t care,” Jesper defended, rubbing the back of his head. “He knows I’m joking,” he laughed with a shrug.
“I don’t care,” Kaz remarked simply as he waved the comment off dismissively. “Don’t talk about my wife like that,” he ordered. From his periphery, he saw the grin that formed on y/n’s face as the title ‘wife’ left his lips. But his scolding gaze never left Jesper.
Y/n walked back over to the bickering boys and rubbed Kaz’s back through his coat. “You heard him,” she said as she smirked at Jesper before she passed by them with a box in her hand.
“Y/n,” Jesper groaned loudly. “Help me out, it was a joke,” he whined with a dramatic pout.
“You’re on your own, Jes,” y/n chuckled from the hall.
Kaz continued to stare as Jesper turned back around hesitantly. He stifled a chuckle as the sharpshooter gave him a faux innocent expression. Kaz shook his head as he brushed past him on his way to help his wife with the boxes she had been carrying.
———
“If you keep smiling so much Brekker, you might erase your hard earned scowl lines,” Nina teased with a smug grin as she watched her friends who were snuggled up on the couch in their new place.
The group had all been making playful comments about how happy Kaz looked. But, it hadn’t caused the man to part from his wife’s side. Instead, he just teased them back or lightheartedly glared at the remarks throughout the evening.
As Kaz turned to face Zenik, his eyes caught sight of window and he realized that it was now after dusk. “On that note, I think you should be on your way,” he murmured.
“Kaz,” y/n scolded with a laugh. She shook her head and tugged on his arm she had linked with hers.
Kaz chuckled as he gazed down at his wife. “What?” He questioned with pretend confusion.
“He’s just playing coy, we know he loves us being here,” Nina winked. “But, we probably should head out before it gets too late,” she acknowledged.
Y/n smiled at their friends as they gathered just outside of her and Kaz’s front door for final goodbyes. She quickly parted from her place at her husband’s hip as she went to give everyone a hug. “Thank you all, again,” she smiled. “Please feel free to come visit, anytime,” y/n offered, returning to Kaz’s side.
Kaz gently set one of his hands on y/n’s far hip once she was back beside him. “But, write first,” he said stoically, despite the playful glint in his eyes. “Otherwise, you risk finding yourself staring down the wrong end of a barrel,” he warned.
“We know, we know,” Jesper smirked. He and Kaz exchanged knowing glances as the group all said they goodbyes.
———
Y/n watched from the window of their new home as Kaz sat beside Jordie’s burial site marker. If he’d visited before today, she hadn’t seen it. But, she was proud of him visiting the area after having only been here less than a week.
The tree and connected burial site were far enough away from the house that y/n had to squint to see much of anything from this far away. But she didn’t need to. She was simply proud he was finally allowing himself to grieve the loss of his brother after all this time.
Y/n wasn’t naive. She knew there still had a long way to go. That Kaz still had a lot to work through. She knew it might be difficult along the way but she was happy they were here. Kaz could now rest. He’d exacted his revenge on Pekka and now he’d helped his brother find rest back home. So, while they’ll still earned some income from the club, Kaz could finally have a life that wasn’t not so hard on his injured leg or traumatized mind; one where he could find closure and peace. And he deserved that.
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crabbunch · 1 year
Text
“Scar!” Cub rushes into the room. Scar gasps loudly and falls backwards off of the balcony, dying on impact. “Oh. My bad, dude.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Scar says, getting up from a nearby bed. “It’s not the first time that’s happened today.”
“Yeah. Anyways, did you vote for me?” Cub asks.
“Vote for you- oh! For the tumblr sexy-ma-doodle thing!” Scar says, gathering up his stuff. “Not yet! I’ll get on that right now.”
“It’s really close right now,” Cub says. “I think I can pull ahead, but it won’t be easy.”
“I don’t know what the masses are thinking!” Scar complains. “I mean, I know I’m sexy, but can’t they see your appeal? Don’t they know the power of the Convex?”
“You should make a calendar with both of us on it,” Cub suggests.
“Shirtless?” Scar checks.
“Shirtless,” Cub confirms.
“Yeah, okay,” Scar grins. “Hot Guy… Cute Guy… you can be Sexy Guy, I guess.”
“Sexy Man,” Cub corrects. “Tumblr Sexyman.”
“That doesn’t roll off the tongue at all!” Scar complained. 
“It’s what I’m going for,” Cub smirks. “How quickly do you think you can get that calendar printed.”
Scar pulls off his shirt and out a camera. “You had me at ‘you should make a calendar with both of us on it.’”
- - -
“ETHO!” Bdubs shouts, landing face-first into the luscious, green, beautiful jungle grass. “WE’RE IN A TUMBLRMAN SEXY- AH- A TUMBLR SEXYMAN COMPETETION!!!” 
“Oh snappers,” Etho murmurs, closing his shulker box and turning to look at Bdubs. “Wait, what-?”
“I voted for you, of course,” Bdubs says, holding up his phone to show Etho the bracket. “You’re winning by a landslide.”
“A tumblr sexyman competition?” Etho repeats, eyes darting between Bdubs and the bracket. “Like- a tumblr competition?”
“Yeah,” Bdubs grinned. “They love us.”
“That’s the place- is that where the- you made a tumblr account?” Etho asks, sitting on the shulker.
“Well, of course!” Bdubs brags. “I had to vote for us! Cleo, too, she’s doing good. She’s the one who told me about this in the first place, actually.”
“Oh,” Etho says. “Oh.”
“You’re winning,” Bdubs says again. “I voted for you.”
“I’m not making a tumblr account,” Etho folds his arms. 
“Aw- come on, man! I voted for you, it’s only fair that you vote for me!” Bdubs whines. 
“Nope,” Etho repeats. “Not on your life, Bdouble0.”
“Fine,” Bdubs says, pulling his phone out again. “I’m gonna rally the troops, though. I’m gonna make sure you win.”
“Wait, no, don’t-” Etho begged, but it was too late. Bdubs was flying off to who-knows-where to convince the masses to vote for Etho. 
- - -
“Tango,” Zedaph says, frowning at his phone. “Are you-”
“Yeah,” Tango smirks. “I’m sweeping.”
“Oh, come on!” Zedaph whined. “Impulse-”
“I’m beating Fwip,” Impulse says.
“Jeez!” Zedaph throws his hands in the air. “Is it not enough to wear a catmaid outfit? Is it not enough to put catmaid pillows in my merch shop? It’s not my fault none of my fans made me a How Bad Can I Be animatic.”
“What’re you even upset about?” Tango teases. “Aren’t you crushing Schlatt?”
“I was,” Zedaph pouts. “The people rallied against me. Did you know Schlatt wears a suit? I should have worn a suit. I should have…”
“Oh, look at this!” Impulse pulls up the poll on his own phone. “You’re not loosing that badly.”
“I’m not sweeping,” Zedaph complains. “I’m not even winning! This is disgraceful.” 
“To be fair, Schlatt is a pretty typical sexyman,” Tango says. “I’m surprised he didn’t get more nominations.”
“Fwip’s sexy!” Zedaph points at Impulse accusingly. “He’s a vampire, and Impulse is still obliterating him!”
Impulse shrugs. “No one’s campaigning for him.”
“Why’d they have to campaign against me,” Zedaph wails. “I’m sexy! I’m hot! I deserve this!”
“...there, there,” Tango reaches over to pat him on the back. “This is more of a popularity contest than anything.”
“That's not better!” Zedaph groaned. “The hermit fans practically rule the polls, and I’m loosing to SCHLATT?”
- - -
“I can’t believe this!” Iskal complained. “I’m loosing to this- this upstart! This young ‘un! Why’s he favorite to win?”
“You’re not even a man,” Stress giggles. “I don’t think-”
“I’m a man sometimes! And besides, I was their first example for a good sexyman!” Iskall whines. “I can’t believe this! I can’t believe it!”
“Oh, quiet your trap,” Stress laughs. “You’re perfectly sexy.”
“I know!” Iskall says. “I just need the masses to realize it…”
“You could try campaigning?” Stress suggests. “Everyone who’s talked about it or posted about it has been pretty successful.”
“Naw,” Iskall sighs. “I wanna win fair and square. Campaigning’s cheating in my book.”
“Everyone’s doing it, love,” Stress points out. 
“It’s the principle of the matter,” Iskall shakes her head. “I can’t believe this.”
- - -
“Joe,” Cleo says, looking down at her phone. “Do you think we’re going to meet each other in the bracket?”
“Well,” Joe peeks over their shoulder to look at the bracket. “I’d say there’s a good possibility of it.”
“I won’t be voting for you,” Cleo says immediately. “I mean, sorry, but. Well. You know how it is.”
“I do,” Joe agrees. 
“I’m doing a violence already,” Cleo giggles. “I’m destroying Zloy.”
“Oh, really?” Joe asks. “By how much?”
“Ninety percent,” Cleo brags.
“Oh, darn, me too,” Joe sighs. “I was going to rub it in your face if mine was higher, and conveniently forget to mention mine if it was lower.”
“I wouldn’t have let you do that,” Cleo says fondly.
“Yeah, but I would have tried,” Joe smiles back. 
“I’m gonna beat you into the ground,” Cleo smirks. 
“I don’t know about that,” Joe hums. “I’ve got a good campaign going. There’s a lot of users saying that you’re ‘too traditionally sexy.’”
Cleo scoffs. “This is a glorified popularity contest. It has nothing to do with actual sexyman merit.”
“Well, maybe I’m more popular than you,” Joe sticks his tongue out at her. “I’ve been campaigning.”
“We’ll see,” Cleo says. “We’ll see.”
- - -
“Come on…” Grian mutteres, watching the percent of votes between Mumbo and Grumbot wiggle back and forth.
“Father,” Grumbot beeps. “Please let me make an account. I need to vote for Better Dad.”
“No,” Grian snaps. “You’re not 13 yet.”
“No one will know!” Grumbot protests. “We can lie!” 
“It’s about the principle of the matter!” Grian scowls. “We can’t commit voter fraud. It won’t be a real victory then.”
“I would commit voter fraud for Mumbo,” Grumbot mutters. 
“I know, Grumbot.”
“I would kill to let Mumbo win,” Grumbot says.
“I know, Grumbot.”
“I could kill Scar,” Grumbot muses. “Everyone says he’s favorite to win.”
“He’ll still win if he’s dead.” Grian points out. “There’s a few- not everyone on here is alive. Or even real. Schlatt died years ago and he’s putting up a good fight. Mumbo’s doing fine. He’s beating you.”
“Good,” Grumbot beeps. “I’ll kill anyone who votes for me.”
Grian pauses. “Now there’s an idea. We’d have to kill them before they voted, of course, but that one’s got some real merit to it…”
- - -
“Jimmy,” Scott sings. “They love me.”
Jimmy looks up at him, eyeliner smudged. “They pity me.”
“I’m gonna wiiin,” Scott brags.
“They called me a wet paper bag!” Jimmy cries. “I’m winning, but not because they think I’m sexy! They just- they just-”
“...” Scott raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, they think I’m a little sexy,” Jimmy admits. “But only because I’m pathetic. That doesn’t count!”
���Take what you can get, Jimmy,” Scott says. “It won’t last long.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jimmy sighs and pulls out his phone. “I just- Scott, what’s this job you’ve done on the tags? It’s kind of cringe.”
“That’s one of my tactics,” Scott grins. “They love pathetic men on tumblr. I’m totally going to sweep you.”
- - -
“Oooh, Lizzie, I can’t wait to get curbstomped by you next round,” Joel says, lounging on a cat bed. 
“I can’t wait to curbstomp you next round!” Lizzie crows. “Oooh, I’m a fish-cat-lady, and I’m so sexy!”
“No, that’s kind of my thing,” Joel sniffs. “...people are saying I’m trying too hard.”
“Well, you are,” Lizzie points out. “No one’s going to take you seriously if you go around announcing how sexy and tall and lore you are.”
“Oh, but it works,” Joel says. “I’m super tall now and everyone loves me.”
“I’m still going to sweep,” Lizzie smiles.
“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Joel agrees.
- - -
“You know,” Connor says, sipping a bottle of vanilla. “The syndicate’s doing pretty good in the tumblr sexyman competition.”
“What are you talking about,” Techno replies, biting into a potato.
“Me and Niki might drop out this round,” Connor continues. “But you and Ranboo and Phil… you’ll keep going, I think.”
“What?” Niki wrinkles her nose. “What do you mean?”
“No, no, I get it,” Techno nods slowly. “I wouldn’t have known, I’m not on tumblr.”
“What’s tumblr?” Ranboo whispers to Phil.
“Mate, you have an account, you of all people should be in on this,” Phil whispers back. “You need to start campaigning, you’re barely beating Xornorth.”
“What,” Ranboo says.
- - -
“Aw sick I’m starting to beat Iskal in the tumblr sexyman bracket,” Quackity says, and doesn’t say anything else because he is annihilated by a nuclear bomb. 
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rachalixie · 1 year
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what i’m looking for
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you, quite literally, run into kim seungmin on your escape from an arranged marriage.
tags: strangers to lovers, hidden identity, she/her!reader
genre: fluff, hurt/comfort
word count: 3.4k
you never thought you would be in a situation like this, running through the woods in poorly fitting clothes and shoes, branches snagging at your hair and arms as you wind your way through the forest searching for something, anything. and yet, here you are. cursed engagement ring hidden away in your satchel along with a pocket of gold coins and whatever stale pieces of food your handmaid was able to steal for you before you took your leave.
you’re surprised it took you until a week before your wedding to run away, but you were never one to back down from a challenge; you tried everything you could think of to call it off, but your parents wouldn’t budge. something about it being the best decision for the kingdom, or whatever - nevermind what you want. nevermind that your brother would become king and therefore you were simply a bargaining chip to be used for political power. nevermind the reputation of your betrothed, the reputation of his kingdom and how they treat women like you. nevermind that they’re sending you into a life of despair and discomfort. 
the cool dusk breeze beating against your face feels almost euphoric as you sprint, cautiously looking behind you to make sure you’re not being followed. surely someone had noticed your departure? but you made sure to cover your tracks well; the boots you’re wearing are several sizes too big, stuffed with cloth to ease the fit, and any tracker would dismiss them on their hunt for you. 
you’re abruptly sent down to the forest floor when a boy appears almost out of nowhere, tripping you and making you lose your footing. he tumbles down with you, taking the brunt of your fall, and annoyance pings within you when he groans at the impact. you’re scrambling off his lap as fast as you can, hands scrabbling at dried leaves on the ground that stick to your palms. 
“where did you come from?” you demand, watching him stand up with an indignant look on his face. his pouty lips are twisted into a frown and his hair is fluffed up from his fall. in any other situation you might think he was cute. “do you not watch where you’re going?”
“oh sorry, i’m not really used to people running through my property,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and a reprimand that you have to tamp down sits at the tip of your tongue. for all he knows, you’re a commoner; announcing that he should be aware of your royal status and that technically, you own this property probably isn’t the best move. he would turn you in faster than you can speak your own name, collecting whatever reward your father most likely posted in return for your safe delivery back to the palace. 
“your property?” you land on, feeling it a safe question. you look past his head and notice a tiny cottage a few yards away, ivy lining the bricks and a soft puff of smoke escaping from the chimney. 
“yes,” he drawls out, as if talking to a child. “the place where i reside. you know, sleep and eat. surely you know what that is?”
“of course i do,” you huff, crossing your arms. did you look homeless to him, or something? a terrible idea sparks in the back of your mind as he looks away from you and you notice the rapidly setting sun. it hits you that you had no plan, nowhere to go, nothing to eat and no shelter for the night.
“anyways. enjoy the rest of your. jog?” he says, voice lilting up at the end like he’s not sure whether or not to be suspicious of you. he turns to walk away and a flash of panic takes over your body.
“wait!” you lunge to grip at his sleeve, a display of impropriety that you usually wouldn’t let yourself indulge in with anyone other than your closest advisors. the material feels rough under your skin, as do the borrowed clothes hanging off of your shoulders. “do you have an extra room? or a mat on the floor? i can pay you, i just need somewhere to stay.”
“what, are you on the run or something?” a spark lights in his eyes, and your hair stands on end when you realize that he’s amused. as if he knows anything about you.
“or something,” you grit out, knowing that whatever sarcastic comment that you want to make probably won’t end up with him agreeing to let you in. despite his inarguably annoying personality, he has a house, and you need him right now. you can’t imagine that you’ll run into anyone else tonight, and sleeping on the forest floor does not seem safe. 
“how much?” he says, quirking an eyebrow up. you mentally cringe at the amount of money you have hidden away in your bag, 
“enough,” you squint your eyes at him, gauging him. he meets your gaze for an impressive amount of time before nodding his head towards the small building and starting his trek. 
“what’s your name?” you ask, following behind him, knowing but not caring that not offering yours first was rude. he looks back at you for a beat of time before shrugging. 
“kim seungmin. and you?”
you give him your name, grateful to your parents for the first time in a while. they kept your true name hidden from anyone outside of the palace, and their secrecy was annoying until this very moment. it would be nice to be called something other than princess for a while, you’re sure. 
he mouths your name, letting it sit on his tongue for a moment before grinning. 
“well then, welcome to my home. i’ll make up a cot for you in the living room, are you hungry?” he rambles as he lets you in, closing and locking the door behind you. the skeptic sarcastic you met outside seems to melt away to reveal slumped shoulders and tired eyes, unmasked by the comfort of his space. it warms you up along with the shelter of a roof, a reprieve from the biting cold of the outside. 
he doesn’t wait for your answer before walking off, leaving you to stand between the small kitchen and cozy looking living room. there’s small trinkets strewn around, soft mismatched couches with worn blankets and a rickety looking kitchen table surrounded by stools. he returns with a thin padded mattress and a pillow and he sets it down by the burning fireplace. it’s not the luxurious four post bed that you’re used to, but it’ll do.
“let me treat that for you,” he gestures at your knees, where small dots of blood seep through a tear in your trousers. there’s a small scrape you didn’t notice until now, the sting making itself known when you bend your leg just a bit to get a better look. 
“it’s just a scratch,” you protest, not wanting to bite off more than you can chew with him. you already owe him for letting you in, you don’t want to think about how fast your reserves will dwindle down if he does you any more favors.
“please, i insist,” he guides you to sit on one of the stools at the kitchen table before reaching into the cabinet next to him. “i’m an apothecary, and i know my way around basic medicine. it’s not a big deal.”
you nod stiffly and let him inspect the small wound, the breath leaving you when he drops to his knees in front of you to get a better look. he rolls up your pant leg and he cleans it with rapt attention, making sure not to press too hard, and applies a greenish looking salve onto it.
“there, all done,” he says, patting the bandage he had wrapped around it before letting the cloth of your trousers back down. 
“thank you,” you say, genuine in the way his returning smile is. you reach into your bag, fishing for the small bag of coins. “how much? i can pay you in advance for letting me stay, and for this.”
“keep it,” he says, voice even softer than it was before. “you can help me around the house. the weeding, or gathering wood for the fire. i don’t want your money, not when you probably need it more than i do. i make enough to get by.”
so you do. the first morning you stumble through the garden, side by side with him as he shows you which plants in his garden were herbs he could use for his medicines and which were leeching weeds that needed to be plucked before they took over the entire space. he disappears to town in the afternoon, delivering medicines and coming back with a pocket jingling with coins and a bag full of fresh pastries for the both of you. they taste better than anything you’ve eaten from the palace cooks, and you can’t help the way you moan around the cherry hand pie. you catch his eye and he meets it before you both dissolve into giggles, leaning into each other’s space on the same side of the table. 
he helps you wash your clothes that night, tutting at how you only have one pair. he lends you a pair of his, an old set that he doesn’t wear anymore. you lay at night and swipe the fabric between your fingers, smiling at the gesture even though he isn’t there to receive it.
his kindness shocks you, you’re not used to people doing things for you without the authority of the crown making them or them demanding something in return. it’s nice, knowing that there’s people in your kingdom that contain such compassion, especially for strangers. 
the next day he takes you deeper into the forest to pick berries, and the red and purple bursted splotches staining your fingertips for hours after. he feeds you some with his bare hand, swiping his thumb against the corner of your mouth when sweet juice escapes it. you bristle at the action and he laughs, and you have to hide your smile in your sleeve as you wipe the rest off yourself. you stay out until the sun begins to set, him busy teaching you about every type of plant the two of you come across on your stroll and you listening with rapt attention. his voice is soothing, words speeding up and slurring together a bit when he finds something particularly interesting that he wants to show you. he makes you feel almost like when you were a child studying with your tutors, quizzing you every now and then to test your retention, but the smile he rewards you with is better than anything they ever gave you. 
on the third day, he’s gone before you wake. he left a note on the table for you stating that he had to go to town for a medical emergency, and that there was bread and cheese in one of the cupboards for you to eat while he was away. you busy yourself with two knitting needles and a ball of thread you find in the living room, trying and failing to create a pattern of knots. he comes home as the sun is setting, the last rays making his hair a honeyed brown and his skin glow. your stomach clenches at the sight of him, the relief you’re feeling foreign to your body. 
he grins at the sight of you surrounded by unraveled strings and gently pries your hands from the needles where they had become clenched. he wordlessly shows you how to create simple weaves with the needles, and you have to ask him to show you twice because you’re too busy staring at his tongue poking from his lips to focus the first time around. you end up with a wobbly looking hat, some knots too bit and some too tight that create gaping holes in weird places, but he places it on his head and thanks you for it anyways.
“you have a lot of secrets,” he muses the next night, sipping tea with you by the fireplace. you almost lose your grip on the mug from his abruptness.
“i do?” you ask, not willing to give away information that he doesn’t already have. you had spent the day in companionship, trading back quips and sarcastic comments between meals. he taught you about the medicines he was making that day, explaining each ingredient and its properties as he cut them up and beat them into a paste. his comment was out of place, but it’s something you’ve come to expect from him; there’s no predictability to him past the way his eyes crinkle up when he smiles and the way his face goes soft when he looks at you. 
“you pretend you’re a commoner, but your hands are free of callouses. your hair is full and healthy, you speak formally, you’re clearly well off. or at least, you were. what i don’t understand is why you decided to leave that behind.” his bottom lip is twisting between his teeth, not knowing whether he’s crossed a line with you.
“true,” you admit, wrapping your hands further around your tea and letting the warmth seep into your hands. it grounds you. “i didn’t think i had a choice. i wanted to make my own decisions, wanted to decide my own fate, not have someone do it for me. i felt suffocated, so i just. left. i don’t know what i was looking for, but i needed to get out.”
“have you found it?” he says, peering at you from above his mug as he takes a long sip. “what you’re looking for?”
“maybe,” you pause, looking into his eyes. they’re cocoa-dusted brown, the fire dancing across his pupils. he looks away after a moment, and you’re grateful for it. you wouldn’t want him to see the flush thats traveled up to your cheeks and ears. 
by the fifth day, you’re able to identify the uncomfortable feeling in your gut whenever he walks into a room. or looks at you. or breathes, really. 
you’re falling for him. 
you’re not in love with him, you’re not so deluded by his puppy-like charm and stupid smile and cute teeth and sparkly eyes that you’re calling it love. you can simply identify the feeling of free falling as clearly as it was laid out in the novels you used to sneak into your room to read by the candlelight before bed. 
it isn’t as difficult to look him in the eyes after you’ve identified it as you thought it would be. if anything, you’re even more drawn to his magnetism, your body moving towards his without your permission at any given time. while he’s preparing lunch, or chopping herbs, or telling you about his trip to town, you’re in his space. and the worst part is, he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, he seems to gravitate towards you with the same intensity, or you hope so at least; it isn’t unrealistic that it’s your rose-colored vision making you see things that aren’t there. 
regardless, it brings something more dangerous to your attention: hope. the hope that maybe, this could be a life for you. that this temporary stop in your journey might become permanent. that you’re far enough from your home that no one will recognize you if you step into town, that you could spend the rest of your days with him in this cottage, eating pastries and knitting and picking berries. 
there was no need to tell him that now. you were fine with the way things were, you were still technically engaged, and you didn’t even know if you were ready for something like that. for the infinite time since you can remember, you’re cursing your sheltered upbringing for not teaching you how to live.
it’s on the sixth day that things go crumbling down.
he’s gone again, leaving you in comfortable silence broken up by birds chirping outside and the sound of leaves rustling past the windows. it’s domestic, the way he works during the morning and comes home a few hours later to you twiddling the knitting needles between your hands, a ball of yarn by your feet and a haphazard scarf forming under them. 
“your highness?” he says, and you hear a rustle of paper, him putting his mail down most likely.
“hmm?” you sound absentmindedly, still focused on the knitting you’re trying to painstakingly learn. it hits you a moment later what he said, and you drop the scarf and needles with a gasp. you look up to see your worst nightmare in the form of him holding up a missing persons poster, a drawn image of your face adorning the middle and your name plastered underneath. missing princess, it reads, complete with a reward for your safe return. you knew this would happen, you just didn’t think it would happen so soon. a day before your wedding. you thought you had more time. you were so close to your freedom, and you could feel it slipping through your fingers.
“shit,” you curse, hiding your face in your hands so you don’t have to take in the shocked look on his face. you feel all the blood in your head rushing south, leaving you lightheaded and overwhelmed.
“you’re the princess?” he clearly has no care for your distress in this moment as he stalks towards you, the poster crumpling in his hand when it curls into a fist. “i’ve been harboring the missing princess in my home?”
“yes?” you mumble into your fingers, letting the despair settle in your traitorous stomach. he lets out a sharp breath through his teeth and you flinch, thoughts swirling.
“do you know what would happen to me if anyone finds out i’ve been keeping you here? prison would be a paradise.” you hear his feet bringing him closer to you, each drop synchronizing with your heart beating in your throat.
“please,” you remove your hands, sniffling when a traitorous tear traces down your face. “don’t send me back. i’ll give you all the money i have, just don’t send me back there.”
“hey,” he soothes, anger melting into concern as he folds to his knees in front of you. “i won’t. i wouldn’t. i just- why didn’t you tell me?”
“i didn’t know if i could trust you, at first,” you stutter out, ignoring the way your heart clenches when his face falls. “and after…there wasn’t a good time.”
“why would you give all that up? a life of luxury, never needing to ask for anything, why would you leave that to spend your days here? don’t you want to marry some prince and live in your castle?”
“i don’t want some prince. i want you,” your voice is wobbly, vision clouded by the tears you won’t let fall, but your intention is clear.
“you can’t just-” he cuts himself off, taking in a sharp breath through his nose. “you can’t want me. i’m nobody.”
“you’re not,” you press, standing until you’re level with him. “don’t you understand? it’s you. you were what i was looking for all this time.”
“but,” he protests, running a hand through his hair, mussing it up from its careful placement. “why me?”
“you’re my home, seungmin. i’ve never felt more safe or more comfortable than i have within these walls.” desperate tears continue to sting at your eyes, and he reaches to wipe them away before he can help himself. your palms move to cup his hands to your face, keeping his warmth there. “you’re the only one who sees me as more than just something they can use, you see me. please don’t send me away.”
“would you be happy here?” he asks, voice trembling. he wants you to stay.
“i’ve been happier these past six days than i’ve been my entire life.”
he surges to kiss you, finally letting your lips touch after days of lingering glances, and it feels like coming home.
you didn’t know if you would go back to the palace, but you knew you had responsibilities that you couldn’t just ignore and that you had to deal with them soon. what you were completely sure of was that, despite the wishes of your family, you won’t marry at all if you aren’t marrying him. 
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haesunflower · 3 months
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the soulmates unfortunately series (zb1) [preview]
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ABOUT. here's the thing about soulmates, once you meet the one that is meant for you, you start to age. the biological clock starts to tick, and you are no longer the fresh faced 20 year old. years go by, and next thing you know it, you've grown old and wrinkly – right next to the love of your life. but here's the thing about y/n, she hated that.
y/n has had many soulmates in her lifetime, 4 of which had made a significant impact on her life. namely, her first husband, kim jiwoong. the man that she had a daughter with, zhang hao. the husband that raised her daughter, sung hanbin. and finally, ricky shen. (un)fortunately for her, her soulmates keep dying.
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genre: romance with adult themes warnings: mentions of death, blood, character death, killers, cursing, etc. contains adult themes. each chapter will have specified warnings. note: yujin is not in this series as he is not 18 yet.
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CHAPTERS
chapter zero: the first few soulmates
chapter one: the man she first married, kim jiwoong
chapter two: the man she had a daughter with, zhang hao
chapter three: the man that raised her daughter, sung hanbin
chapter four: unfortunately, ricky shen
chapter five: the finale
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PREVIEW OF CH ZERO. (below the cut)
“Got anything that’ll get me drunk in the next ten minutes?” 
You plopped down on the bar stool, haphazardly placing your purse next to you. The bartender is eyeing you strangely, as if in disbelief that you’re even inside their hole in the wall establishment. 
You sigh and pull out your identification card, a laminated piece of junk that tells you how old you really are. Scratch that, how old you are meant to be. He picks up the card and raises it up next to your face, comparing the woman in the picture to the you that sits in front of him. It reminds you that you need to get it renewed…again. After all, the last time you updated your photo was sometime in the 80s, reflecting a version of you with big hair and large colorful earrings. You don’t blame him for wanting to double check, contrasting the all-black ensemble you currently sport. 
“Listen pal, I just buried my daughter today. I would appreciate it if you could get on with it”. You might not blame him, but you are impatient. 
He slides your ID card back and pours you a whiskey on the rocks. “Sorry for your loss ma’am” he solemnly extends his condolences as he places your drink in front of you. You pick it up, raising it and nodding a “thank you” before taking a large gulp. It burns. 
You outlived your daughter. And you wonder if you’ve been going about life in all the wrong ways.
Atop the alcohol display at the bar is a small TV, flashing a report about a young woman named Somi who was murdered and found dead at her home – leaving her husband a widower. The news station flashed a photo of the blonde couple, sharing that they had just gotten married a week ago. She was beautiful. A shame. 
At that moment, a tall man enters the bar and decides to take a seat next to you. Other than the fact that he too, is dressed in all black – you feel a deeper sense of similarity. Like kindred spirits, you recognize broken souls like yours. You order two more rounds of the whiskey the bartender gave you. 
“I heard about your late wife in the news, I’m sorry for your loss.” You feign sympathy and slide the glass to the man next to you. 
He looks taken aback at first, but accepts your offer. Now facing you, he raises his drink to you. You do the same.
He’s strikingly handsome, with platinum hair and dark eyebrows. You also don’t miss that he’s dressed in Yves Saint Laurent from head to toe. He takes a peek at your ID card still laying on the table, making sure to catch your name. 
“Next one’s on me, Y/N” he says, taking another swig at his whiskey, finishing his glass. He calls on the bartender, and buys an entire bottle for the two of you. The bartender returns his credit card, with the name ‘Shen Quanrui’ engraved. 
“Thank you Quanrui, that’s very generous of you.” 
He puts on a small smile, almost no one calls him by his legal name. “You can call me Ricky” he says as he pours into your glass. 
“Alright Ricky. Here’s to life.” you raise up. It feels inappropriate to be clinking glasses on the day you buried your daughter, but you figured you could make an exemption. Ricky too, seemed to be going through the same thing with his late wife. 
“To life.” he responds, tapping his glass against yours. 
Just two broken souls who had lost someone important in their lives, drinking to fill the hollowness. You almost don’t feel the familiar bloom in your chest, tugging at your entire being like a magnet trying to find its other half. And if you do feel it, you pretend it’s the whiskey burning its place in your heart. 
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REPLY OR SEND AN ASK TO BE TAGGED TO THIS SERIES
tagging: @dwcljh@snowflakemoon3@kpoprhia@en-ct@jiaant11@caocoamamam@mashihope@wonluvrbot@littlegirltacos@ihrtgw@ollieluvrs@thejadeazalea@keiwook@yjhcloud@gyuvinnie@doobinnies@forrds
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