#(at least the part about it not being grooming— if you came away thinking he was just kind of a weirdo i can understand that)

[calamitydaze]

me watching the entire internet realize what i figured out 14 months ago

[prettyboykatsuki]

BLOOD FEUDS, ANCIENT AND MODERN | RYOMEN SUKUNA.

✮ tags ; no curses au, blood incest, use of honorifics (oji-san) abuse (mostly verbal / emotional), classism, grooming / generally predatory behavior, large age gaps (20+ yrs), blood feuds, imbalanced power dynamics, white collar crime, afab + fem!niece!reader, uncle sukuna, the word rape used in text, non/dubcon (not noncon necessarily), fingering, petnames (little one, kid, little lamb), thigh-fucking, and other things, very horrible and gross sukuna behavior 18+

this is very dark and it deals BRIEFLY with sukuna being very predatory to reader when she's UNDERAGE / young. nothing explicit happens WHILE she is underage, but sukuna does leer at reader and it is mentioned. please proceed with caution !!!

PLEASE HEED THE TAGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED!!!

✮ wc ; 10.3k (???????????)

✮ a/n ; thank you vic @saintshigaraki for always indulging my nonsense and also tomfoolery. kissing you.

i'll be honest lads this one got away from me BAD jksdfhjs. i think its interesting at least.I KNOW THE TAGS ARE WICKED but i promise its like. kind of sexy at least.

also yes the title is from the rdr2 soundtrack shhh

✮ synopsis ; blood is thicker than water. resentment, you think, is thicker than both.

Bastard.

An intimately familiar title, lacking tooth and effect. It's meaning eroded with time and usage - and a moniker you've wielded proudly for as long as you can remember. You don't recall much of your life before it became part of you.

The daughter born of wedlock. Bastard daughter. The only remaining stain to your family's reputation aside from your late father.

Your mother often tells you that you were her hardest child to birth. When you were littler it was a story relayed to you with affection, and but now it's with such bitter hatred you can feel it lodged in your throat.

The most important element is the predestination in it. You came into the world kicking and screaming, throat hoarse and violent. From birth, you knew you were half-forged with bad blood and came into the world trying to be absolved of it. It's shaped your life, your relationships, everything about you.

The other half of your DNA, the good half, is from your father. Before you were a bastard, you were your parents' only child. Your father was a good man. The best you know. An average, humble man. From a generation of other working class men with a tough job in construction. Your best memories come from when he was still alive.

A quiet life, untainted by the residual bitterness of your mothers heritage. You lived away from it, outside of it. The mother in your memories from back then seem like a dream now, some mirage from long ago - disinterested in anything but you and your father. Your mama and papa. Your father took good care of you both, and your mother loved him madly.

You lived as a normal family in a small apartment just outside of Gifu for the first seven years of your life. You attended a small local school and had friends with crooked teeth and messy hair.

Your childhood was mostly happy if you break it up into pieces like that. Blissfully uneventful.

There's a concise break of change of what your life was versus what became of it. Your fathers death the splinter in the wood, separating the two halves.

The worst of your childhood, of course, came in your fathers passing. Not just because of the loss, but what it made of your life. His funeral welcomed people of all walks of life with the most notable absence of your elusive mothers side of the family.

Another old memory you have with your mother is looking at her face during your fathers wake. The deep darkness of her eyes, sunken in and hollow. The first time you ever found her terrifying instead of comforting. While the world mourned your father, your mother—you think—mourned her life.

Forced into single motherhood with no prospects and no career, your mother decided it was best for the both of you to return home.

You think the worst of your life started there.

Your mother's side of the family has never welcomed you with open arms. You wouldn't come to know why until much later. You were a child then. There's no way you could've known about feuds that deep.

The only thing you knew was that you were hated vehemently, and nothing could change that.

Your grandmother's estate was always frightening to you in your childhood. You've yet to grow out of that feeling despite living there for the last fifteen years. It's remained unchanged since you moved in and the lights in the hall never seems bright enough. Jade green painted walls and white tile floors. Some rooms have classically Japanese flooring and heirloom paintings from the Heian era. Others modernized with sterile whites and grays and house plants that add no life to it at all. Stretched wide with tens of rooms, and easy for a child to get lost in.

A sinking abyss. A terrible place. A dark labyrinth. Anxiety inducing to even think about now. No place for a child your size or your age.

The best way to describe your childhood after your father died was cold. Removed from your life in the suburbs and placed among other rich kids, you became overtly self-conscious of the differences between you and them. Them being anyone who grew up wealthy and your other extended family. You were constantly reminded of your place as the bastard child. Later learning how your mother left her fiance many years ago for your father, your poor and worthless father.

(You theorize any warmth that your mother had for you was buried in your dead dads casket. Living there, among them, made sure she'd never find it again.)

Your mother is the most complicated part of your life. You don't have a time for when she gave up on raising you. There was a year when she tried, you think. For the most part, you lived in that house utterly alone. 

At first that abandonment was miserable (as it would be to any child, certainly) but a time came where you were glad you saw so little of her.

Your mother, who you had once loved and thought highly of, became a pitiful prey animal in the four walls of your grandmother's house. Small and anxious and utterly hateful. A bunny born with some cosmic knowledge and horrific understanding that its destiny is to become food for a wolf. Viciousness between her siblings, no doubt fostered by your grandparents and their establishment, tore apart the aspects of her your father mended and ruined her. You were too little to stop it. 

Blood feuds that ran bone-chillingly deep plagued most of the interactions with your extended family for as long as you've been a part of them. Your mother has exactly four siblings. Two sisters between her with her as the middle daughter, and two brothers. One of which is estranged so completely you don't know his name.

And the other being your Uncle Sukuna.

Your hatred for your aunts and their children came to you rather naturally. For every gala and ball and charity fund your worthless bloodline ever raised, came catty arguments and verbal abuse from the shallow mouths of your beloved cousins. You had nothing to prove to anyone in that house. You were detested since your birth and your grandparents made no small effort to show you through as much neglect and verbal lashing as they could get away with.

Rotten girl. Cursed daughter. You're the reason your mother is like this. You're the reason she is miserable. You should've been buried with your father.

Compared to the experience of your grandfather ripping into you at age ten for simply being alive, your cousin's commentary on you was remarkably uninteresting. You resented them for being nuisances, though, with the exception of maybe one who bucked it out of that place as soon as they could. Just like you planned too.

For a long time, Sukuna wasn't around enough to have a real presence in your consciousness. You tried not to think of your extended family more than you had too. You got used to not knowing about your relatives living there, but there was no one so elusive as him.

It was as if, increasingly, you heard whispers of his name at everything you were forced to attend.

The first time you ever meet your Uncle, you're freshly sixteen. It's the birthday party your mother throws for you each year in an effort to show how close the two of you are to the rest of your relatives.

The first time you see Sukuna in person, the only thing on your mind is how much he stands out from the rest of your relatives. He's a head taller than the tallest person there, and he's...bigger. He's not clean or neat, scruff lining his chin. Old, dark eyes. Visible tattoos that reek of disgraced son and hardly of prodigy.

At sixteen, you understood intimately what your family considered to be gold standard. Your uncle was antithetical to it. His very existence a paradox to the ideas you've had been hammered into you for years. Dyed hair, piercings, tattoos - his suit jacket undone to expose his chest. Lacking respect and formality and dignity. 

He was a lot like you. You got that impression, somehow.

When your eyes met with your uncles for the first time, you had your second fully formed thought about him.

Dangerous. Like an alarm. Like a ringing bell, throbbing through your skull and pulsing through your teeth. Some part of you just knew that he was a very dangerous man. Not just a wealthy one.

The first conversation you ever had with your uncle proves to be the most significant. Brief, yet - tonal in all ways. The gold standard for how he viewed you. How he would view you.

How he would treat you.

("So you're the new brat,"

Your uncle is an imposing man. You are sixteen and slightly tipsy, which is the least horrible thing you could be since your other cousin is coked out in the bathroom upstairs. You sway, staring at him. You think that's disrespectful.

He's the kind of man who might kill you for that. Might hit you. But you don't find it in yourself to challenge your defiance when you're far from sober and even father form happy. You lean your weight to one side and hum.

"New bastard," You correct him, and take another sip of the flute of champagne in your hand. "My worthless fathers, worthless daughter."

Sukuna pauses, his eyes widening before his lips break out into a grin. You wonder if it's because you're drunk. You think he's staring at you. Your eyes are too blurry to tell but you think he's gazing down the low dip of your top. At the curve of your chest. Leering at the body you've yet to even grow into.

"Tenacious," Your uncle says, and takes a long drink of his sake. You stare at the edge of his glass, carmine eyes gazing so deeply at you - you think you'll throw up. "You're your mothers daughter. Through and through.")

The night of your sixteenth birthday, your uncle announced he'd be opening a business venture in Tokyo. All this time he'd been doing work overseas, but seeing family helped finalized his decision. You remember the look on his face when he announced it. Remembered his eyes searching on you through the crowd as he held the mic up to his lips. How he named you the main reason, one conversation and he grew so fond of his little niece. That you were a clever girl, and that even though he hadn't known you long - he was sure you'd go so far.

Happy Birthday to you, little lamb.

You remember best the feeling afterwards. How the crowd went nearly silent. Hundreds of eyes darting your way in seas of strangers. All the attention people hadn’t paid suddenly mattering, all the congratulations. You remember how they crowded you and how your uncle came to your rescue with a cheeky grin and air of nonchalance.

You remember feeling sick. You remember the chill creeping up your spine, bile in your throat - all wet eyes and nausea.

Your uncle is a dangerous man. And you, the uninteresting bastard daughter, had caught his full attention.

The next four years of your life would pass so slowly, you often wondered during them, if you died that night and you'd live through these days as punishment for the crime of existing.

A little after your birthday, your uncle moved back to Japan permanently - in a residence not far from your grandmother's estate. He became a permanent fixture in your life. Many things came with that reality, none of them being especially pleasant.

You learn three things in the four years you spend with your uncle in your life.

The first is that your uncle is more powerful than you can really understand.

Through conversations at your kitchen table about his escapades abroad, you learn nothing of the work he actually does. Only what it involves, who it involves - foreign governments and people much more powerful than your family. Your uncle has ties to the Gojo family, and the Zenins'. Your time here teaches you that they make up two halves of private militarized arms and they work domestically and internationally. The only thing you need to know about them is they are filthy rich, richer than your own family and twice as corrupt.

And Sukuna works with them. Knows them rather intimately, from the pictures you've seen of Sukuna and Gojo Satoru drinking together - two prodigal sons with silver spoons and unsettling demeanors.

The second thing you learn is that your uncle's power and influence extend past all borders and include your grandparents and relatives. In the years he'd been away from home, he's garnered a formidable reputation. You never cared to notice it before, but it's all you can see now. Every arrogant, vapid relative you have the displeasure of calling family sees your uncle as some sort of king. The golden ticket to grandparents approval. A wishing well for all their hopes and dreams - so long as they appease him.

They fawn over him. Sukuna knows it. But they're all so busy trying to get on his good side they never catch his subtleties. Never seem to notice the cold sarcasm and biting edge to his questions. They pander and peacock to him constantly, but not one of them has sense enough to understand him a little deeper. Except you, incidentally. That's part of your problem

The third thing you learn about your uncle is that he takes pleasure in your cleverness no one in your life has since.... who knows? Since your father died, you think.

And you are clever. A head smarter than the rest of your family and a try-hard in all aspects. You graduated highschool top of your class and got scholarships into better schools. It was never about proving your worth of course, but about survival. You wanted away from this place, and the only way to cut your ties completely is to carve a life for yourself. Academia, education, using your name to make connections - you've been working silently on it since you were in middle school.

The only person who'd ever noticed your accomplishments was Sukuna. In between his work, he'd visit you in your room. You grew close in one sense of the word. It was a secret kept between you - but Sukuna often reminded you of it. That he saw you for who you were when no one else did. That his interest in you exceeds your own understanding, and it'd be in your best interest to remember that.

Some half-way between threats and affection, for four years - your uncle remained at your side. Uneasy as you were, he'd never try to advance on you while you were still in highschool. Some part of you knew he wasn't above it. Rather his interest hinged on getting to know you.

Your uncle is above all things manipulative.

Rather he preferred to keep you on your toes during the duration of your time together. To get close but not too close. To get to know each other openly. Your uncle made sure everyone in your family knew of his fondness for you. He'd keep you close to his side or follow you around, always in public places with a million eyes. He'd whisper to you, laughed and asked questions.

You hated being the center of attention, so Sukuna turned it on you any chance he got. It made it hard for you to refuse him, but mostly it made it hard to go under the radar without his protection. It made it hard for your relatives to insult and berate you.

You hated it. You hated accepting his kindness, because you know your uncle well enough to know that everything in the world came with a cost. And that this protection is little more than luxury, promised to you as long as you played nice.

And you always did play nice. But you were cautious. Never alone too long in the same room. Never somewhere too late. Never drunk, never high. Always within distance of a door. Sukuna was a dangerous man, and you may be a bastard but you're no fool.

It'd work for years. You evaded any real alone time with him for years. Years.

Until earlier this year where your mother had made arrangements for you to spend the summer with your dear old Uncle - in his villa, far from the safety of Japan's main island.

In the years of your uncle's favoritism towards you, no one has been more pleased than your mother. You've come to hate her for it. Your relationship hasn't been good in years and for her to suddenly attempt to be your mother again felt like a mockery.

(It mostly felt like a betrayal. You didn't think she could betray you a second time after she all but abandoned you the minute she stepped foot in that house.

Like something possessing the corpse of the mama in your dreams, your seething hatred towards her started then you think.)

You'd spent years indifferent to her, but it was this change that made you hate her down to your bones. You were furious about the decision. Furious she didn't bother asking, furious about all of it.

About everything.

An entire summer alone with the man you know to be most dangerous to you. You wouldn't put it past Sukuna, to plan this around you - but it didn't make it any less frustrating.

("You'll be going with your uncle," Your mother says, hardly listening to you. There's a baby on her hip, your half-brother and a vacant look in her eyes. You feel your jaw tighten. "We've already made plans. Your stepfather,"

"Your husband." You correct. Your mother gives you a tight-lipped smile.

"We are going on a family vacation. Your grandparents wouldn't tolerate you here alone , so you're going and that's final."

"I don't need to live with you," You seethe, fighting the urge to grab her and punch her. You've never been violent. Your mother makes you homicidal. "I can find my own fucking place, I'm twenty I don't need-"

She slams something. Your half-brother makes watery eyes. She stares at you distantly, righteously angry. Whether she's earned that anger or not, it makes your mood worse. .

"This is the least you could for me. For us." She hisses, turning around. You think of killing her. "For all the shit you put me through."

"What I put you through? Fuck you," You admit, your throat burning like a star falling through the atmosphere. Then, through a shaky breath"There's something off about him, mom. Do you understand what I'm fucking saying? Where you're sending me?

Three expressions pass over her face. The ghost of grief, some kind of solace and then more vacancy. She swallows, turns around to keep folding baby clothes. Her voice trembles. She knows she's sending you to your doom. Knows what waits for you as soon as you go.

"You're going. We need this." She says, and still doesn't turn to look at you. Her voice is so frigid it doesn't sound like hers anymore. "That's final."

You shouldn't be shocked by it anymore, but it doesn't make it easier.

You slam the door on your wait out. You hope their plane crashes on the way there.)

You tried your best to worm your way out of the situation before the semester closed out. But Sukuna, three steps ahead of you at all times, made sure that wasn't possible. Your uncle owned a villa out on an island, private - and the bags had already been packed. You'll like it there, he assured you so many times, it's comfortable. There's a good view and the kids in the place will remind you of the kids you grew up with.

(It's hard not to notice the ways in which Sukuna tempts you into wanting to go. Though there's nothing, truly, that could make the experience a pleasant one - it's posed to appeal to you. A place to remind you of your childhood. You try not to think about it.)

Despite your protests, despite your vehement frustration - there was nothing you could do but go. If you didn't go with Sukuna, it'd be enduring 3 months alone with your grandparents. You could try to crash with friends but the friends you've made so far wouldn't dream of being so polite and you dare not think of burdening your childhood friends with your family problems. They deal with enough as is.

The last option was running away. You're desperate enough to entertain it. You do, several times - considering what the worst outcome could be. All scenarios end with Sukuna coming to find you, because he's crazy and connected like that. Even if he's deliberate in not displaying those parts of himself, you know his apathy to be a facade.

You know him well. He knows you well. It feels like a competition to see who can outsmart the other that you were forced into with no say.

So, come the end of your third year of college - a driver picks you up right as your finals are finished to take you to the airport. A private jet, a nauseating display of wealth just for your uncle to torment you with you're sure.

On the plane ride to a small island on the coast of Japan, you think to yourself that all gods in the world must've abandoned you before you were ever born.

__

The first few weeks of your stay in the island of Nii-jima prove to be uneventful.

For a small island, it's still governed through something related to Tokyo. It's not the city or even the country, some quiet and relaxing in between. There are people here who've lived for generations and others who are only touring. Your uncle's villa though, is far from all life - and a few miles out from a beach.

You can hardly understand what a single man needs such a big house for. There's staff there too, though less than at your grandparents place which you're grateful for. You've met six of eight, two of them people who take care of the yards and garden.

Sato-san is the woman you see most often. The one cook Sukuna has and the woman who's been working longest. She is kindhearted and sturdy, often bringing her grandchildren with her. She's quiet and motherly - and so warm you're unsure of how to behave around her. Your uncle is seemingly fond of her which is saying a lot. She speaks highly of him. 

It's been so long since you've experienced something like maternal warmth, you're awkward around her. You try to not be too attached, try not to be fond of anything in this house because you know something horrible and dormant lies within it and you do not want to stay. Don't even want to entertain the idea of staying.

But Sato-san is good to you, with wrinkles and sunspots and a bright laugh. Her grandchildren are so well-behaved you wonder about how they were raised. A girl about seven and a boy about four, always quiet and inattentive. You've grown fond of them too, despite how bad you normally are with children. They're easy to be around.

You're frustrated mainly because you don't hate being here. The people are kind and welcoming and everyone locally is pleasant and good. You've been in the city too long, with insane people too long, and everything feels refreshing. The bus here is free and you can be at the beach whenever you like. You've made friends here - organically, with no strings attached. .

For the first time in your twenty years of living, you even have a guy you think is cute. It seems small, but back home everyone knows who you are. You've never had a relationship work out for one reason or another, but here? Here no one knows you, and the boy you meet at the beach with his friends is just a boy.

You don't want to like being here, but you do - and you don't want Sukuna to come back and he will. Nothing ever works out for you.

The worst of your luck you think builds on the edge of that thought.

You come home tonight doing a lot of things you would not normally. 

For one, you've gotten yourself drunk. The reason being the cute boy aforementioned invited you down to the beach with his friend. You justified going thinking if you were going to be miserable all summer - a single good memory wouldn't kill you.

You had fun. Your swimsuit is underneath your short skimpy clothes, and you sat in his lap and made-out with him all evening. Got to pretend you were a normal girl and you got to kiss for the first time. You still reek of alcohol and his cheap cologne. Blissfully uneventful. 

When you stumble into the foyer of the house with blurry vision and hear the T.V. playing, you know it instinctively that peace is going to be short-lived. You know that your uncle is home, and that he was waiting for you.

All the hairs on your neck raise. A shift in the atmosphere makes it hard to think clearly. Your lungs barely get enough oxygen in them to keep you upright. You think of leaving. You think of running up marble stairs to your room in hopes he won't catch you.

"Brat," Is yelled from the living room. Right, as if you'd ever get so lucky. You jump in your skin. "You home?"

Your stomach churns. You feel sick.

"Come to the living room."

You go obediently when Sukuna calls you, trying not to stumble over your two feet.You don’t think there’s more options than fearful compliance. 

Your uncle is watching Scarface on the big flatscreen on the TV. The subtitles are on in Japanese though you don't think he needs them. He only barely turns his head to look at you, his interest piqued when he sees what you're wearing.

You feel sixteen again, self-conscious of your body and womanhood. He hides it even less than he did the first time - the leering. He notices your skimpy shorts and top, the bottom of your bikini. And he grins, and stares but doesn't say anything.

"Oh?" He says, calm and casual, glancing back at the T.V. "Finally went and had some fun did you? Thought all that studying turned you into a bookish little shut-in permanently."

You don't say anything, arm clutching your other self-consciously.

"Did you need something?"

He snickers, low and predatory. "Come on. You're here to spend time with me so let's spend time together."

You don’t bother asking where he’s been for the last few weeks.  Your gut churns, feet heavy as they drag you to the far end of the couch. Sukuna stares as you sit hesitantly. You have no doubt he's going to make you move, but he's kind enough to leave you alone for now.

"Have fun on your..." He gives you another knowing look then laughs. "Outing?"

You aren't sure how to respond. "Just drank with some friends."

"Friends," He mimics, feeling the words out in his mouth. "The kind of friends that smudge the lipstick off your mouth, huh brat?"

You flush suddenly, embarrassed - and Sukuna barks a laugh. You don't know what he's expecting you to say there so you opt for nothing.

"Sorry," Is the only thing you can manage. Placating. He lets out a puff of air through his nose and relaxes further. There's an air to him, of nonchalance, that unsettles you more than if he was angry or unpleasant. Your throat bobs.

"You're a big girl now," He comments - sleazy and indignant. His indecency towards you, about you glints like a star. A sharp canine and piercing red eyes examine you from his peripherals. "Now that you're showing off it's only natural boys flock to you, hm?"

You can't explain the way this comment makes you feel. So much said with so little. The gap between is and has always been miles wide except sometimes it's not. Your uncle is unusual. Cold-blooded, manipulative, ruthless. There's no warmth in him in a comfortable, loving way. 

There's even less of a normal relationship between you.

But you both exist in this space with... similar awareness. Of the world. Of yourselves. There's a conscious intelligence to him that's reflected in you - that you are both fractured parts of your grandparents bloodline in two separate bodies. That self-awareness affords him a presence. In your mind. In your fear.

You are undoubtedly related. Sukuna revels in that.

It’s rare to see that kind of awareness in your family. You’ve never felt threatened by people dumber than you, even if they had more power or money. Vapid and shallow and useless - there’d never been anything that could win you on. It might sound cocky, but it’s true. It’s been true. 

It’s why Sukuna frightens you. He has everything, but above all - he’s smart. And hard for you to read. 

You swallow, shakily - your eyes looking down at your hands. In a profoundly long beat of silence, the movie plays. A fair bit of gunshots echo through the loud speaker and they startle you.

"You scared? Come sit closer, then." He tells you, less than asks you.

You stand and sit next to him, still a distance away. Sukuna remains unmoving. You don't know what to do with yourself.The silence seems to stretch for miles and minutes. Sukuna just watches the T.V. and stares at his phone - occasionally answering messages. You stay like that for a long time. 

"Need a smoke," He says, and it's not really directed at you. "Maybe later. Wouldn't wanna make you sick."

"People smoke around me all the time."

"Do you smoke?"

You shake your head, too tipsy to lie. He laughs at that. "Not even weed?"

You don't bother mentioning legality, you both know it doesn't matter between your lineage.

"Don't like the taste."

"How interesting. What a straight-edge kid. Most I've seen you get is drunk and this is the drunkest I've ever seen you. Still sober enough to talk clearly though."

"I just drink socially,"

"Ohh," He says, and then grins a little sharper. "A little shot of courage to fuck that little college boy then?"

This makes you jolt. "We didn't fuck—"

"No?" He looks genuinely surprised at this, though it's mild. "Poor kid must've wanted too if you came around him wearing that. Unless he came in his pants soon as you sat on him. Boys that age do stuff like that,"

The comment about his age reminds you of how old your uncle really is, and something in your chest flares hot.

"It wasn't that either—I've never-"

He cuts you off. "You're a virgin?"

You flush, stopping yourself from answering and he laughs.

"Ohhh, that's good. Very good," He grins, so genuinely pleased it makes you shiver. "I like virgins. Easy to please."

"That's—It wasn't for you."

For the first time in your relationship, Sukuna bridges the gap between you. He sits up and forward, his hand finding the bare skin of your knee. He rests it there, his thumb circling the flesh.

"Don't touch me," You hiss. Sukuna tightens his grip, but not threateningly. He turns to look at you that time, and you can't help but look back.

There's something in his degeneracy that horrifies you. It's fondness, you think. Genuine fondness.

"You sure?" He licks his teeth in a way that reminds you of a wolf. But not one that's starving. There's no desperation in his actions, but a self-assurance. Wolves don't often survive alone, but Sukuna has. And he hungers with the confidence of a predator who has killed all that stand before him. That's never been told no to what he wants to eat.

Your heart stops. Your voice a low whisper. "Stop,"

"You say that but you came in the house looking all desperate for sex and approval. You always look like that. Have for a little longer than what's normal for a girl your age,"

"I don't look like that!"

"You would've fucked that little college twerp if you stayed wouldn't you? Nothing wrong with honesty, brat."

Before you have a chance to understand what goes on around you, Sukuna changes position. You've never gotten a chance to feel and experience how strong he is - not like the way he's manhandling you now. You gasp at the arm around your waist and back. He pins you to the couch in a swift motion, not sure how he's done it, the alcohol making you dizzy.

Sukuna has never crossed the boundary with you like this before. Your heart is thumping loud, beating against your ribs. The source of it eludes you. If it's fear or discomfort or some other thing entirely causing such noice. 

There's a certain blase in his attitude that makes you forget momentarily about the taboo and gives way just to the tension between you. You feel it for the first time with his body pressed against you, all hot and heavy. He smells of cologne, but it lacks the acidity cheap ones tend to have. There’s strong hints of cigarettes and aftershave accompanying it. Appearance wise, he has lines in his face like a man in his forties. 

You don't know what's wrong with you. With a relationship so fucked up from the start, you thought crossing this line would feel different. You think you want to throw up, but you're completely calm. 

You want to be disgusted. You want to thrash and kick and scream and fight. You squirm away from him, the threads of what's left of your moral conscience urging you to do so. Like a last ditch effort to keep you sane. 

But there's just. Something. Something so inevitable about it that your heart doesn't beat at all. The panic itself feels hollow in nature. You are a rotted log and Sukuna has ripped the soft wood out of you with relative ease. But you’ve been that way for a long time, and nothing hurts. Not really.  

It's relieving in the worst way. 

"Get away from me,” You whisper again with noticeably less fight. Sukuna looks at you bright-eyed.

"You're a good kid," He says. The genuine praise knocks the air out of your lungs. That disgusts you more than anything else happening between you so far. "Interesting. A lot brighter than the other kids in our family."

Our family. You wince. .

"Stop, this is—" You don't know what word to use. He's your uncle and you're his niece and he's been gazing at you like this for god knows how fucking long. "Stop."

"You've got something going on behind your eyes at least, even if you're still just a wet-nosed and angry little housecat," He says, staring down at you. He's so imposing. His facial hair and his various tattoos. Everything about him, down to his bones. "But I can't tear my eyes away from you at the same time. You know that?."

You do know that. You cast your gaze away.

"I applaud how cautious you've been. But it didn't make a difference in the end. You know that too, right?"

You don't say anything.

"Clever little lamb you are, indeed. I like that about you." He hums, leaning down closer to you. His face is inches from yours. "You should be smart enough to know how this ends. But you know, you've been so entertaining to me this whole time I feel like I should at least be a little nice. So I'll offer you something. A deal of sorts, we can even write it on paper."

This catches your interest and he knows it does. He knows. You’re cut from the same cloth. And this place has made you lose your character, just like it always does. So if it means your survival and sanity or your morals, one comes before the other.

He grins at you.

"Come stay with me. Here in Nii-jima and back at my estate at home. I'll take care of your expenses and whatever else. I have better connections than the old hag," He says, leaning down even closer to you. You can smell him. He's intoxicating "You can be away from everything. I'll even let you have boyfriends and girlfriends over. You can throw sleepovers. I don't care. You can do whatever you want."

"What's in it for you?"

You can feel his knee press up against your cunt through your shorts and you gasp, hand going up to his shoulder. "This. Been thinking about this tight little cunt for a while now. You'd have to be at my beck and call. We'd be the closest uncle and niece in all of Japan," He snickers.

You wince at the reminder. You hate yourself for considering it. "Why me? There are plenty of women who are dying to fuck you."

He scoffs a little. 

"Once we get you a little farther from the trenches kid, you might start to understand me. Wealth, fortune, fame - all of it's fucking boring. I came back to Japan prepared to leave again but you made me stay. Not much more to it than that."

"You're fucking your blood-niece out of curiosity? Your sister's daughter?"

"My sister never did anything good with her life except marrying your father and making you." Sukuna says, and laughs lightly. You hate how validated it makes you feel. Your skin crawls. "I'll have to thank her for it. She'll be pleased.

You make a face at him, uncertainty. Apprehension. Fear. Frustration. Everything you’ve been compartmentalizing comes bubbling to the surface and making your head feel weighted with lead. You want to kill everyone and everything including him. You want to run away from this place. You want to go home, though you don’t know where that would be anymore. They demolished your old apartment years ago. 

You think spending a few years getting fucked and used might be less miserable than the suffocation of living with your mother and your baby brother and your grandparents. How much abuse you’ve endured already vs. what awaits you when their true heir starts to walk and talk horrifies you. 

You look at him. 

“You’re horrible.” 

“Tell me something new.” 

“I hate you. I don’t…want this. Any of this. I want to go home.” 

You’re just venting. Really. You’ve made the choice already. 

“Has there ever been a time where it’s been about what you want? I doubt it. But if you stay with me, appease my wishes for a while, well,” He laughs confidently. “You’ll get something, at least. Better than what you have.” 

“The contract. Are you serious about that?” 

He laughs at you. “Sure. If it makes you feel better, you can draft it and I’ll just have my lawyer sign. Bring your defenses. Whatever. Don’t really care as long as I get what I want.” 

“And that’s me?” 

“Seems like it,” 

You purse your lips. It seems like a rash decision to make in the moment, but truthfully your heads never felt so clear. Even with the alcohol. 

“...Fine.” 

Sukuna hums when you agree. It feels anti-climatic somehow. Not that he’s not expecting your yes but that you’ve come to accept it so easily. It’s not like this takes away from the coercion, from the awful feeling of being violated. Sukuna was going to rape you whether you liked it or not. This way, at least, you get something out of it. This way it’s something you choose. Something tangible results from your inevitable doom - the fate your mother damned you to. 

It affords you some plausible deniability too. In truth, you’re afraid for yourself. You’re afraid of what will happen when he finally does cross the line completely. You’re afraid you’re going to accept it, that it’s going to feel pleasurable, that years of repressing yourself will come back to make sure you never return to normalcy. 

What will become of you when Sukuna has his way with you? Will you become a more apathetic version of yourself? Is it possible? Will you sober and feel like scrubbing your skin clean in the shower? 

The worst outcome, you think, is nothing so horrible happening. The worst outcome is knowing you’ve fallen far enough for none of it matters at all. 

Sukuna grins down at you. “What a well-behaved niece I have. Good girl. You’ll do well living with me.” 

You make a displeased face at him, but your breath catches in your lungs soon after. Your uncle leans in to kiss you and you close your eyes trying to get away from it. But it’s true that your body has been burning up from the inside since you came back home - a dull throbbing between your legs turning you all kinds of stupid. 

When Sukuna kisses you - your first thought is that he’s unexpectedly gentle. 

You didn’t think he’d care about kissing to begin with. In your head you thought he’d tug off your shorts brutishly and fuck you without any prep. You were readying yourself for tears and pain, for screaming and crying - the sharp sobs of your own voice piercing your ears. 

A gentle press of lips startles you from your drunk haze. You can feel the scruff of Sukuna’s face on your own, your arms wrapping around his neck instinctively. The taste of cigarettes and something else mildly smokey fill your mouth and make you dizzy. Sukuna tastes like kissing a man - or what you might’ve imagined that to be like. Not a boy, but a man. You feel his strength, your hands splaying at the base of his neck and feeling the faded undercut of his neck, the texture of his dyed hair. His weight shadows you, his strength making you feel fluttery. 

He doesn’t tease you all during the kiss like you’re expecting. Nothing goes the way you expect. He kisses you in slow, short pecks and escalates to his tongue dipping against your lips - a little added element to his deep kisses. He kisses like he’s been doing it for longer than you have, with experience and finesse. You’re all but too conscious of everything little thing. About the sounds you make, about knowing when to breathe, about trying not to get wrapped up in the pleasant euphoria. 

All you can think about is how good he is at it. Effortlessly good. You think part of you latches onto it to avoid thinking about what’s happening. Denial feels pleasurable at least. 

You kiss like that for so long, your lips have swollen - sticky with spit and saliva. Sukuna has a self-satisfied smirk on his face when he pulls away from you, laughing at the flush in your expression. 

You hit him lightly, looking away from his face. 

“It’s a wonder you’ve kept your virginity,” He says, chuckling. “A kiss and a dirty old man like me could’ve taken it from you.” 

“Shut up,” Your reply is weak. He laughs against your mouth, and you can’t get over the intimacy of it. You hope you’re deluding yourself but then he kisses the corner of your mouth. Hot, warm air tickles against your jaw and neck when he presses his lips there too and suddenly it occurs to you how real it is. 

You don’t think your uncle is capable of warmth or love or anything that doesn’t come from coercion. But fondness. Maybe fondness. 

He spends more time doing that than what’s comfortable. Relishes the feeling of you in his arms, his bulge grinding against your clothed cunt but not forcefully. Just with enough pressure to make you gasp once in a while when you don’t have a mind to fight it. 

“I won’t take your virginity tonight,” He says declaratively. It surprises you. “You’ve got three months with me. It’d be boring. I’ll give you something else.” He looks at you then, then grins impishly. “What do you want?” 

Your eyes widen, suddenly unsure of yourself. You push away, brought back to reality by the questions. 

“How would I know?” 

He blinks at you. “I know you said you were a virgin, but did you really mean in everything?” 

You pout at him all of a sudden. “So what. I didn’t have that kind of time.” 

Sukuna barks a laugh. 

“Huh. I thought you were a goody two-shoes out of necessity but you really don’t do a damn thing in that house. Not even a boyfriend to do hand stuff with?” 

“Ugh. No, alright? I don’t have time for that kind of thing like I just said.” 

He laughs a little breathless, sitting up for a minute. You’re wondering what it means for you. Sukuna pulls you up along with him. He sits down again with his legs spread before looking at you. He pulls you into his lap with relative ease, until you’re half-way pressed into him with your legs over his thighs. You stare at him, feeling more exposed in this position. You get a closer view of his neck tattoo, realizing how far down his back it must go. You go to ask him what he’s doing - but he’s undressing you before you can. 

Confident, large hands trapeze down your back as he finds the end of your overwear and pulls it off - leaving you in the microkini you wore to the beach. It barely covers your nipples. You made the choice to wear it, yet seeing Sukuna examine it so closely leaves you wallowing and regretful. Still, he’s silent as he does something similar with your jean-shorts. A hand lifting your legs up enough to roll the cheap, denim shorts and discard them right on the marble floors. 

You’re still half-way over his lap - sitting on his thighs but you’re naked now.

You feel yourself growing self-conscious. Never mind that it’s the first time anyone’s seen you this naked, who exactly you’re showing it to makes you want to throw up. He stares for so long you wonder what he’s thinking, a lazy grin splitting his face. A hand nudges your thighs apart, moving your leg to give Sukuna more access to you. With an arm around your waist, his hand cups your cunt, rubbing it softly. You shift nervously. His thumb moves then, rests at the hood of your clit, pulling up to look closer at it. You hold back any noise as he examines you, bent pointer of the opposite hand brushing over the hair on your skin with a laugh. 

“Unexpectedly, it’s pretty,” He says and your eyes shoot wide open. “Good job brat.” 

“What are you,” You pant, your breath hitching as you close your eyes.”staring so much for it?” 

“It’s mine to stare at.”

You don’t think of your uncle as particularly possessive. It’s more like he believes in that so much, so unshakingly nothing else could be true. You wonder if there’s more to it. He didn’t seem angry even after you told him about seeing a boy. 

But comparing the two, Sukuna outclasses him in all ways that it should matter. He must be confident about that. 

He spreads your thighs a little further. You’re half tucked into his side now - an arm around the back of his neck and shoulders. Sukuna ducks down a little, nudging his nose against your neck and scraping his teeth lightly against your throat. He doesn’t do much other than… touch you. Not directly. His other hand, the one not secured around your waist, rubs at your pussy but not in an attempt to pleasure you. It’s exploratory and intimate. He’s just touching you in a way that’s making you restless. And the angle he’s bent down, the proximity gives you a better view of him. From the side where you sit in his lap, you can see the tattoo again. 

You shudder then, pussy suddenly clenching in a way that leaves you ashamed. Your uncle notices, though he doesn’t look up. 

“Thought of something, brat?” 

“No.” You deny, vehemently. He spanks your pussy but not hard. You jolt in reply, a shock traveling up your spine. 

“C’mon now,” He hums, predatory. “Don’t lie. That’s not fun.” 

“Y-your tattoo,” You say, suddenly feeling the influence of alcohol in a way you hadn’t all evening. “It’s…big.”

“Into bad boys or something, kid?” 

You frown. “You look like a yakuza.” 

This makes him laugh, more genuinely than you’ve ever seen him laugh. “Getting warmer, I guess.” 

You don’t say anything to that. Instead spurred by the sudden confidence. “Why aren’t you…touching me?” 

He looks at you surprised then tilts his head. “Is that what you want? 

“I don’t want any of this but it,” You squirm again. “Feels weird.”

“Sounds like you want something, at least. Go on, tell your oji-san what you want.” 

You scrunch your nose up at him, a familiar feeling of disgusting flitting through you. It fades as quickly as it comes.

“I’ve never put a-anything inside,” You admit, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

“That so,” He hums. His middle finger slides down the wet seam of your cunt as you tell him this. You nod but you don’t think he’s really listening. His hand is warm, and big - and his fingers are thicker than yours. One of yours may as well make two of his, no end to how imposing he is. You don’t protest as he starts to touch you. You simply take a deep breath, holding onto him a little tighter. 

With your head turned towards him, Sukuna leans in again to kiss you. It’s deep from the beginning this time, and a little rougher. He bites lightly on your lower lips as his middle finger dips down towards your sex. Your insides are throbbing, hot and wet as you feel some friction. It’s the first time anyone else has ever held you in your life, every touched you directly like this. Against your will, your body is sensitive to the stimulus. Everywhere he touches you goes alight, and the kiss makes your tummy flutter. A tender feeling of want spreads you open, tears you apart right in front of him. 

With parted lips and a heavy head, you kiss him as his middle finger dips down low enough to penetrate you. A soft gasp pulls from your throat. 

It doesn’t feel unpleasant.

“I thought it was going to hurt more.” You admit, feeling him inside of you. It’s a new sensation but it’s not bad. 

“It shouldn’t hurt if you’re aroused enough. And wet enough. You seem to be both.” 

You frown at him, face pinching. It’s washed away quickly by the sensation of him pushing deeper. It’s hard to describe it as anything other than feeling something inside of you. Deep in a place you didn’t think it could go. You shake a little, trying to get adjusted. Sukuna does it carefully, slowly - thrusting in even strokes and keeping you focused on kissing so you’re not too conscious of it. 

He’s not thoughtful, not really - but you can tell that he’s going slower for your sake and that makes your heart stammer uncomfortably. The last word you’d ever use for him is kind but he’s not being horrible and it’s unsettling you. 

Once one finger goes in and out smoothly, your uncle starts to add another. You feel it that time, the stretch of it - gasping hard at the sudden sensation. Your breath catches in your lungs, hand clutching at his shoulder for purchase. He pulls away from your mouth, his breath near your ear. 

“Easy, little one. Give it a minute.” 

“It feels different. It’s,” You can’t form the words as two fingers penetrate you in full, slowly being eased inside of you until Sukuna is knuckle deep. Your breath hitches. “Not like it hurts.” 

“It’ll feel good in a second.” He says assuredly, voice smooth and raspy against your ear. You feel combative at his confidence, but then a minute passes of him rubbing along your insides and something strikes against you like lightning. You pause, blinking confused as Sukuna laughs. “There it is,” 

“There what is?” 

“C’mon kid, I know you’re too busy with school but you don’t know something so basic about your own body?” 

“What is it, oh.” 

His other hand toys with your clit, rubbing it in slow circular motions as he gauges your reaction to the touch. You jolt from the sudden pleasure, getting used to it slowly. You didn’t realize how badly it was throbbing to be touched until he does it in full. Your mouth dries up immediately. Little shocks of electricity spark up through you as his hands go full in on your body. The combined pleasure starts to uptick, something building slowly but surely. It goes from not feeling like much to feeling like something. Feeling physical. 

Your mouth drops open in sudden shock, eyes lidded as you moan unabashedly - unable to keep the sound at bay. You own a vibrator, use to cum quick and hard just to curb the feeling. You’ve had orgasms on your own but nothing has ever felt like this before. It’s undeniably satiating, mimics the feeling of eating something and nearly making yourself sick on it. You go slack-jawed, your nerves on fire. 

Two fingers curled against your silken walls and another two toying at the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs leaves little room in your brain to think. The only thing your body seems to remember is how to moan and whine - make these pathetic little noises you’ve never heard in your life. You didn’t even know you could make. Oddly enough, Sukuna is quiet through it. He makes grunts and little affirmatives but he’s mostly silent. You mostly hear the sound of your own voice. 

The sound of your own wetness. You can feel the sticky sensation of your arousal but you can hear it even better. It’s lewd to listen too, wet smacks mixing with the pathetic bleats of your voice make you feel hot all over. Skin prickling with heat and sensation. 

“I knew you were sensitive but haah. If I would’ve fucked you today, you would have cried.” 

The thought drifts idly by about his cock and your whole lower half reacts to it by going weak. It aches just thinking about anything bigger or longer entering you than his fingers. 

“Figure an insolent little kid like you isn’t much of a crybaby. I’m sure I can make you one.” 

You don’t even think about asking what he means. 

“Feels,” You make a gasping noise, body suddenly going tense. “Hngh, fuck. Feels so good, holy fuck.” 

He groans a little. “I’m being too nice to you. I really should be balls deep in your cunt already and I’m not. You gonna cum for me, huh brat?” 

You nod your head dumbly, unable to retort. To think of anything but the sensation washing over you.”Go on. Do it. Cum for your perverted oji-san.”  

Something about the depravity of it sets your mind numb. Your body goes tight, every nerve firing off at once as you grip onto his shoulder and let the feeling of euphoria wash over you. Your whole body is so stimulated it’s numbing. The feeling of pleasure crashes into you, leaves your spine arching - mouth dropped open and nearly screaming. Your sanity melts, fades off completely and your brain feels like it’s gone empty. You close your eyes so hard little splashes of white show up in your vision, like you’re seeing T.V. static. 

You think you scream. You don’t know. You just know that you’re cumming, hard, just from his hands and you’re terrified of what else he’s good at. You don’t think it boils down to sensitivity as the waves of your first orgasm ripple through your body. 

You lay in his arms, sweaty and limp. Your vision is blurry with tears as you open them to look at him. Sukuna is rubbing your side, taking his fingers into his mouth. You look at him surprised as he does. He grins. 

“Tastes good, kid.”

You flush. “Shut up.” 

“Don’t think I’m done with you quite yet.”

Sukuna guides your hand to his pants, over his bulge. You gasp a little at it. His size through clothes is astounding to you. 

“I’m not so generous to leave with nothing, you know.” He pats your thigh, moving you from his lap. “I’ve got a better idea than trying to teach you anything today, so try to hold still.” 

You don’t know what he’s talking about until he guides you on the floor. You’re confused until you feel him position you  - facing towards the couch with your knees spread on the floor. In doggy, you realize a little too late, your upper-half supported by the couch cushion. You feel more confused than you felt a moment ago. 

Sukuna positions himself behind you. You can’t see him, but you can hear the soft rustle of his clothes moving as he stands on his knees behind you. More than that, you can feel his cock resting on your bare ass. You gasp, feeling the weight and size slide against your curves. Sukuna does a breathy little laugh at your reaction. He’s huge. 

“Don’t cry kid. I told you I wasn’t gonna put it in tonight and I meant that,” He hums. His hands come to your hips, all of a sudden pushing them together. “Push your thighs together as tight as you can.” 

You listen to him. You can do it with some effort despite how weak your body feels. You lean forward on the couch for support, bringing your knees together and pressing your thighs. You don’t understand what it’s for until something hard pressing along your spine moves down the curve of your ass. You gasp aloud as his thick cock pushes between your thighs, tip catching against your swollen clit. Your whole body is covered in goosebumps. Sukuna moans low in his throat, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Fuck, that’s it.” He hums, sounding pleased. “Keep them tight for me, alright girl? Try to at least.” 

Sukuna is wordless as he grips your hips, your flesh dimpling under his bruising grip. You're silent, your voice threatening to spill again as you try your best to listen to him. You keep yourself tight and firm, your hands gripping the couch cushions as Sukuna pushes his cock between the fat of your thighs and starts a pace.

The angle makes you gasp, body feeling weak at the way it touches your clit with each bump. Sukuna doesn’t hold back at all. You’re not being penetrated but the weight behind each of his thrusts makes you feel like you’re being fucked. The bruising sensation of skin against skin - the hard muscles of his own legs smacking against the softness of your thighs. 

Most embarrassing is the way the position makes you conscious of your uncle's cock. You knew he was huge before, but the way he’s thrusting. Where it reaches when he does thrust makes your throat feel nearly tight. You can’t stop thinking about the fact it’ll be inside you. You can’t imagine taking it in your hands - the girth and length of it fucking impossible. And he wants to fuck you with it? Take your virginity? 

He’ll stretch you so open if he does. You can barely think of it fitting in you. When you do, your whole body shudders in a horrible and pathetic way - a new wave of arousal striking a strange chord. As he bumps and ruts against your clit and your mind fills with such lewd images, a new wave of lust starts to pour through you. 

It’s unhelped by the feeling of Sukuna’s cock - getting so close. The throbbing with each thrust and the low, throaty groans he keeps vocalizing against your ear. All of it proves to be too much for you. It shocks you when you feel yourself grow hot all over again. Not even being touched directly and so soon after your first - a mere few minutes. 

And you find yourself with all your muscles tight, your hand reaching back for Sukuna as you plant your face against the cushions and let him fuck hard between your thighs. You feel incoherent, stupid and so fucking horny. You’ve never experienced it. You can’t think of what to moan, so you choose his name. 

This makes him laugh as he bends over you, his teeth biting your shoulder blades. 

“Gonna cum again from this brat? Aren’t you fucking easy? Come on, cum with me. Just like that, take it. Fuck, that’s it. Good. Good girl.” 

It’s the last bit of tension that pushes you over the edge, whether you care to admit it. Your voice breaks as a second orgasm washes through you - more intense but much shorter than the first and you nearly fall limp. You only barely manage to hold yourself up as your uncle keeps thrusting relentlessly. 

You can feel him twitch hard between your thighs when his orgasm finally hits. You shake as you feel him squish the tip between your thighs - hot ropes of cum spurting against the swollen mound of your cunt and dripping down your thighs as he finishes. He smacks your ass as he finishes, making you yelp. Your whole body is rife with exhaustion, finally coming down from high-highs and low-lows. 

“We’re gonna have a lot of fun together for the next few months kid,” He says, almost affection in his words. You’re too exhausted to reply, looking at him over your shoulder. “Let’s get along and do our best.” 

“You’re a sick-fuck, oji-san.” 

“And you’re a whole lot like me, aren’t you kid?.” 

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hi there, hope you're doing well. I would love to request a fic where the reader is Sirius' wife who reunites with him after he escapes from Azkaban, takes care of him e.g. feeding him and grooming him, and helping him get better. Cheers!

Right Where You Left Me

Request: I would love to request a fic where the reader is Sirius' wife who reunites with him after he escapes from Azkaban, takes care of him e.g. feeding him and grooming him, and helping him get better.

Hi! I’m so sorry for the wait, it took me forever to get to this request, and even longer to finish it. I’ve been in a bit of a slump, but I feel better. I love this request, thank you so much for sending it in! I hope you enjoy it :)

(Warnings: swearing, mentions of azkaban and sirius’s treatment there, mentions of death, vague mention of nudity, let me know if i missed anything)

—

When you received the Patronus from Remus telling you Sirius had escaped from Azkaban, it brought you to your knees. 

You thought about him every day. But you could only ever picture him in the days before he was arrested. It hurt too much to think about him rotting away in prison. But hearing that he got out? That he was out in the world and could be anywhere by now? The fact that he was suddenly much closer to you than you thought he would ever be again?

It terrified you.

You married Sirius right after school ended and the war was beginning to pick up. He proposed on a whim, telling you that the rest of your days weren’t guaranteed, and he didn’t want to live through another day without you tied to him. You would have always been by his side, but this was tying more than just your lives together—it was your souls. When Harry was born, you were named his godparents. All was well for a while. Calm, even. Of course, the calm didn’t last. 

It wasn’t long after your marriage before that night in Godric’s Hollow came, and Sirius was taken away from you. 

But it wasn’t just Sirius. 

It was James, Lily, and Peter—even Mary. Marlene was in the weeks before, and Dorcas too. They were ripped away from you, far before you were ready to let them go. Remus was the only one who you kept in touch with after that night. You clung to each other in the weeks after, seeming to be the only people in the world the other could find solace in. But as the years passed, your visits and letters became few and far in between. 

Then—after all that time—another Patronus came. 

Sirius had come to Hogwarts, and he’d proved his innocence to those who mattered. It was Peter who had betrayed everyone, and he was still alive. 

And, while Sirius had you and Remus on his side, he was still considered a fugitive. The Aurors were after him, and he needed to be kept some place safe where they wouldn’t come looking. Luckily for you, the flat you bought was outside of Wizarding London. Sirius had always loved the feeling of places untouched by magic, so after you married, you moved in together in a quiet area on the outskirts of London. It was his idea to use magic to ward it so that people looking for you would have a hard time, and after so long away from the Wizarding community, not many people would think it was worth it or even remember to come looking for Sirius in hiding with you.

After twelve years of solitude, you couldn’t fathom the idea of your husband coming back to you. You couldn’t fathom the idea of him being part of your day to day life again. All you could do to keep yourself together was tidy up and prepare for Sirius’s arrival.

You couldn’t believe it when Remus finally brought him home to you. 

Your boy—who was a man now, or at least the shell of one—was sitting right in your living room. The only home he had ever known outside of Grimmauld Place or Hogwarts, and he couldn’t have looked more out of place. 

Neither of you spoke when Remus eased him down onto the couch, before coming to your side. You’d always pictured that by some miracle if Sirius ever came home to you, you’d rush into his arms and he’d hold you like no time had passed. You spent years missing his touch, wishing you could hug him just one more time. But now he was right in front of you, and you had no idea how to act. You didn’t know if he even wanted you to touch him. You couldn’t take your eyes off Sirius, eyes wide as you looked him over. 

Time had not been kind to him. 

You could see the man you once knew bleeding through, but so much of this version of him was unknown to you. Sirius kept his eyes on the floor, but would occasionally glance up at you. You knew he was seeing a stranger, too.

“I have to go back,” Remus whispered, turning your attention to him. “They’ll know what’s happened back at Hogwarts if I don’t leave soon, and too many people know what’s happened already. I’m sorry. I’ll come back as soon as I can, yeah?”

You could hardly hear him, but you quickly nodded, giving him a squeeze. “Be careful, Remus. I’ll take care of him while you’re gone.”

“I know you will,” he murmured, squeezing you tight.

He let you go, kneeling down next to Sirius who was watching you both with a look full of anxiety. Remus placed a hand on Sirius’s shoulder, his touch light and gentle.

“I have to go, alright? But you’re safe here. I promise. It’s just Y/N.”

Just Y/N, Sirius thought. He just nodded, a conflicted look on his face. Remus stood up, giving you one last look of sympathy, before walking out the door. He left a deafening silence in his wake.

It took you forever to get your feet to move. But when you did, you were falling. You landed on your knees just in front of Sirius, peering up at him through teary eyes. You could see him take a breath, stilling as you got closer.

“Can I touch you?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Sirius swallowed hard. He gave you an almost imperceptible nod, and you gently reached your hand up, your fingertips hovering over his face. Taking a breath, you cradled his cheek in your palm. You could feel the stubble along his jaw, and the sharpness off his cheek. His skin was cool, far from the usual flush you remembered from all those years ago.

“You’re really here,” you murmured, your voice catching in your throat. “Oh, love. You’re so beautiful.”

Your words pulled a pained whimper from Sirius’s chest. He nestled his face into your hand, a few stray tears pooling in your palm. You were quick to wipe them away, leaning in close. He tilted his head down, resting his forehead against yours. He took a deep breath, taking you in.

“I pictured your face every day, and I still think I’ll never get tired of looking at you. How could I? You’re right here in front of me, as beautiful as the day I lost you. But you’ve always been the pretty one in this relationship, haven’t you?”

You let out a watery laugh, shaking your head. “In my dreams. But it’s good to see your sense of humor is still intact.”

The next few moments were quiet, nothing but the sound of sniffles and shaky breaths reaching your ears. 

Finally, Sirius forced himself to look around. He’d braced himself from the moment he walked in to see all that had changed since he left. He’d expected you to move on and live your life without him, and he’d expected the flat to reflect that. It was honestly more of a shock to him when Remus told him you still lived there than anything else. But as he looked around and took everything in, he realized how wrong he had been. 

“You haven’t changed a thing,” he said, looking at the art on the walls you’d picked out together when you first moved in.

You glanced around as well. You wanted to tell him how you didn’t have the heart to change anything. And although seeing him in everything around you felt like you were being stabbed, you just couldn’t get rid of anything. Getting rid of it would mean getting rid of all you had left of him.

And you would have rather been stabbed a thousand times than do that.

You shook your head, pointing to the spare room. “Actually, Remus lived here for a while. He pretty much flipped that whole room. Said something about you having too expensive a taste for him to have to endure for extended periods of time.”

“Merlin, I bet it looks like grunge threw up in there,” he mused, making you smile and nod.

You stood up, offering him your hands. “Are you hungry? We need to get you fed and cleaned up, love.”

Sirius looked down to the robes he was wearing. They were tattered—resembling rags stitched together more than they were resembling clothes. His hair was greasy and matted to his head, and his face and body was caked in dirt. He had almost forgotten just how dirty he was, a flush spreading across his cheeks as he gave you an embarrassed look. 

“It’s alright, darling,” you said softly, taking his hands in yours. “We’ll take it at your pace. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Reluctantly, Sirius nodded. You smiled, gently leading him up off the sofa and into the kitchen.

—

It took ages to find him something to eat. 

You nearly keeled over when he told you that pretty much the only thing he had been given to eat for the past twelve years was bread and water. It was what he’d grown accustomed to eating, and he wasn’t sure he could stomach anything else. You had to choke back tears when you finally suggested soup—one of the first things he learned to make on his own without magic. It took a while, but he managed to get most of it down. 

You made small talk while he ate, telling him little things he’d missed while he was gone. You left out the most painful details. You could tell him about those later.

Finally, he couldn’t stall anymore. 

He let you take him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom, his eyes on the floor as you shut the door behind him.

“Shower or bath?” You asked, turning the water on to let it heat up. “A bath might be easier. You look tired, and I don’t want you falling over or something.”

Sirius just nodded, and you assumed he was alright with you choosing for him. You let the tub fill up, making sure the water wasn’t too hot before you turned the faucet off. You turned back around, frowning when you saw Sirius looking back at you with anxious eyes.

“It’s ready,” you said softly, stepping out of the way.

Sirius watched you for a moment, fidgeting back and forth on his heels. Just as you opened your mouth to speak again, he beat you to it.

“Can you turn around?” He asked, lowering his eyes to the floor. “I don’t mind if you stay, but could you…could you maybe turn around for this part?”

You quickly nodded, stepping towards the door. “Of course! I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask if you wanted me in here—”

He was quick to speak, his voice shaky. “I do! But this is just a little weird, you know?”

You nodded, backing up to the doorway and turning to face it. You could feel the heat creep up to your cheeks as you heard his clothes hit the floor, followed by the sound of him climbing into the tub. You had seen Sirius naked a thousand times before. He was never ashamed of his body, he never shied away, and you had seen plenty of him in your years of knowing him. This version of him made your chest tighten, and all you could do was stand there and hope he wasn’t feeling the emotions you were. You waited another moment before talking over your shoulder.

“Do you need anything, love? I’ll wait outside if you want me to. Unless you want me here. I’m happy to do whatever you want, it’s up to you.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “Uh…could you maybe help me? My hair is matted and I don’t think I can fix it on my own.”

There was probably a spell you could have used—some sort of detangling charm to help get the mats out. But Sirius had gotten used to not being able to use magic, and you didn’t feel like using it either. The truth was, you preferred it this way.

It was an excuse to get close to him again and spend time with him.

It was an excuse to take care of him.

You nodded, turning around to grab your brush. You kept your eyes on his as you sat down on the edge of the tub, trying your best not to let your eyes wander. You set your brush on your knees, reaching for a cup off the ledge of the tub to dip down into the water and fill up.

“Tilt your head back for me, love,” you directed, smoothing your hand over his hairline as he tipped back far enough for you to pour the water over his hair.

You repeated the process a few more times before setting the cup down and grabbing the conditioner. You smoothed it through his hair, gently tugging at the knots with your fingers before you grabbed your brush. It was silent while you worked, making slow but steady progress. Eventually, Sirius shifted, and the water sloshed just over the side of the tub.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking over his shoulder with guilty eyes to see if he splashed you.

“Don’t be,” you replied quickly, smoothing a comforting hand across his shoulder before moving back up to his hair. “Are you alright? Getting cold?”

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, before deciding against it and closing it. He just shook his head, growing silent once more. You knew there was something he wasn’t saying, and you didn’t want to push him. But you hadn’t made much progress with his hair, and you didn’t fancy sitting in silence for the rest of the evening.

You set your brush down, gently smoothing your palm over his hair. “Sirius…you can tell me anything. You know that, right? I know this feels strange, but it’s still me you’re talking to. Alright? It’s me. There’s nothing you can’t tell me. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen.”

There was another splash as he shifted, twisting around to face you. He was going to say that he’d tell you another time, and that he didn’t have it in him to say it just yet. 

But then he looked into your eyes.

And you were looking at him with such sincerity and warmth that he couldn’t help but spill. You watched his eyes fill with tears, and you quickly reached for his hand which he gladly let you take.

“I saw Harry,” he finally choked out.

You felt your breath catch in your chest. A deep sorrow spread through you, filling your gut with dread. You could feel your own tears stinging behind your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. It wasn’t the time for them.

“He looks just like them, doesn’t he?” You breathed, squeezing Sirius’s hand. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Remus promised he’d say hello for me once he got to Hogwarts.”

“He knows who you are?” Sirius asked, his voice full of surprise.

“Dumbledore wouldn’t tell me where he was when they came for him. The bastard said I was “in no shape” to look after him, and it was too dangerous for me to get involved. I tried so many times to get him to tell me, but I knew he had already pushed me and Remus to the back of the list as far as who could be around Harry…I didn’t even catch a glimpse of him until he was eight. Merlin, you have no idea how angry I was when I found out they had given him to Petunia and her sorry excuse for a husband.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched. You could see the anger brewing inside him, watching as he took deep breaths to calm himself. But he didn’t let it out on you. He just squeezed your hand, tightening his grip.

Sirius cleared his throat. “Did you try and go get him?”

“Dumbledore threatened to have my magic taken away if I didn’t leave the matter be. He didn’t tell me anything about Harry or where he was kept hidden away. He just brought me a picture of him, and promised that when it was finally time for Harry to go to Hogwarts, he’d let me see him. Remus had to keep an eye on me till he was sure I wouldn’t do something stupid before that time came. He’d been waiting as long as me—he’s just better than me at patience, I guess.”

“You never were very good at being patient,” Sirius mused, but you could hear the strain in his voice as he spoke.

You gave him a tight lipped smile, trying your best to mean it. “Anyway, I met Harry for the first time in Diagon Alley. Dumbledore finally let me see him under the condition that it be in a public and magical place—but I wasn’t allowed to tell him about you.”

Sirius frowned, and you could feel your chest tighten. You ran your thumb along the back of his hand, your eyes in your lap.

“I wanted to tell him—so badly. But Dumblefore wouldn’t let me. All I could say was that I was a friend of Harry’s parents, and that I was there to help him get ready for school. I finally told him I was his godmother last summer when I took him for school supplies again. He spent the afternoon asking me about how I knew his parents. He kept pressing for every detail about them and how I knew them, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I told him everything about James and Lily I could remember. It just about killed me—”

Your words caught in your throat, cutting you short. Sirius reached his other hand up to reach for yours, his brows furrowing in concern. You looked up, giving him a sad smile.

You swallowed, choking back tears. “He’s so like them, Sirius. He’s got James’s ridiculous hair, and Lily’s fire. I can hardly look at him without seeing her eyes staring back at me. It’s so fucking unfair.”

A pained sound was pulled from Sirius’s throat, and you stopped yourself from talking about James and Lily any further. You grabbed the brush again, burying your nose in your work as you tried to ignore the sorrow you caught in his eyes before he turned his head straight.

“Tell me about it,” you prompted, changing the subject. “Tell me about him.”

Sirius was quiet a moment, like he was trying to find the right words. “He was…beautiful.”

You smiled, nodding for him to continue as you worked the knots out of his hair.

“He’s got this little witch by his side who quite honestly scared me—”

“Hermione,” you finished for him, grinning. “She’s a wonder, isn’t she? Ron, too.”

Sirius nodded, wringing his hands. “I’m glad Harry has someone. They seem like good friends. He’ll at least have them by his side to keep him from getting into too much trouble. He’ll certainly have a better shot than we did.”

You chuckled, smoothing your hand over his hair. “Remus told me he’s doing really well. It was a big year for him, but…he’ll be alright. We’ll see to that now.”

Sirius stiffened, turning around to face you. You paused what you were doing, setting down the brush. His eyes were lowered, his voice quiet as he spoke.

“I told him he could come stay with me, at least once it was safe to and he was able. I wasn’t really thinking about where that would be. My first thought was Grimmauld Place, but I don’t think I can stomach having him there. It’s not right. But I didn’t think to ask you—”

“Sirius, love,” you interrupted, gently cupping his cheek. “This is your home. You can invite whoever you want—you don’t have to ask my permission. And Harry will always be welcome here. If it’s what he wants, he can come stay with us. It can be his home too.”

His eyes softened, and his shoulders fell as he let out a breath of relief. “Merlin, I missed you.”

You could feel yourself growing emotional again, but you refused to let it show. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak without your eyes welling with tears. You just cleared your throat as you leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his shoulder.

“Tilt your head back for me again, darling,” you managed to whisper, rinsing his hair out. “Almost done. We’ll get you cleaned up so you can rest, alright?”

—

Not long after, you had Sirius clean and out of the tub, bundled up under the pile of blankets you had dragged over to your bed. He looked a bit ridiculous buried under them all, but it made you smile seeing him comfortable, and he was very happy to oblige you. 

You laid next to him, under a considerably less amount of layers. “Warm enough?”

A warm laugh came from next to you as Sirius rolled over to face you. “Yeah, I think I’m all set, darling.”

You smiled, and the room fell into a comfortable silence. Out of habit—one you didn’t even know you still had—you reached for his hand under the sheets. You used to always wind down every night like this, cherishing the time you had together. You never knew how much longer you’d be able to do it with the war raging on, and you both got quite used to doing this each night. 

Sirius stiffened in surprise when he felt your fingers reach his, but he quickly recovered once he realized what you were doing. He let you take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers.

“This bed is so soft,” he murmured, tilting his chin down to look at you. “I forgot how soft it was.”

You tried not to let your mind wander, thinking about the sleeping conditions he would have had in Azkaban. He would tell you one day about what it was like there. 

Neither of you were prepared to talk about it just yet.

“Do you wanna sleep somewhere else? I could make up the couch—”

“No, love,” he said, squeezing your hand. “This is good.”

You nodded, resting your head against the pillow. Another silence fell over the room. You shuffled to get a little closer, absentmindedly tracing your thumb along the back of his hand. Sirius let out a heavy sigh, drawing your attention up to him. You waited for him to speak, lying still until he looked down and his eyes met yours. There was a pain in them you couldn’t describe.

“Did you think I did it?”

You sucked in a breath, your grip on his hand tightening. You could feel his eyes on you as you frowned, bring your joined hands up from under the sheets to rest on top of the blanket.

You had been waiting for him to ask you this.

You knew he must have spent the past decade wondering what you thought happened. He’d sat in that cell all alone, thinking his wife thought he was a cold blooded murderer who had killed her best friends. 

The world thought he was a killer. Why wouldn’t you?

You dropped his hand, gently reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin was warm against yours, a pink flush spreading. Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? You didn’t know. You caressed his cheek, giving him a sad smile. You could see his eyes welling with tears.

“No,” you finally said, your voice sure. “I didn’t think it was you. I didn’t know what had happened, but I didn’t think it was you.”

Sirius let out a breath, his voice cracking. “Really?”

You swallowed hard, nodding.

“You would have died before ever hurting James—and you would have done a lot worse to save him. There wasn’t a single part of me that thought you could have killed James and Lily. I just couldn’t fathom it. There was no one in this world you loved more than them, and I knew that it couldn’t have been you. I didn’t know they had made Peter the secret keeper last minute, and I didn’t know where his body was if he was supposed to be dead, but I knew you had absolutely nothing to do with it. I think Remus knew it too…deep down. He thought I was crazy with the theories I was coming up with to try and absolve you. But he never truly blamed you—and eventually, we stopped talking about it all together. It hurt too much to keep trying to solve the mystery. It was easier to let it go.”

Fresh tears spilled, and Sirius was quick to wipe them away. Your heart ached at his kindness, even after all these years. All these years of solitude when you had left him behind, and yet, he was the one consoling you.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, composing yourself the best you could. “I’m so sorry I didn’t try harder to get you back. I’m so sorry you had to suffer there all those years while I got to just keep living my life. You don’t know how sorry I am. Please forgive me, Sirius.”

Sirius quickly shook his head, his palm resting against your cheek. “None of that, pretty girl. It’s not your fault—”

“But it is,” you tried to say, but he just kept shaking his head.

“Well, I don’t care—it doesn’t matter…I don’t blame you. I never blamed you, darling. So stop blaming yourself. I’m sure you’ve spent long enough doing that, and I won’t watch you torture yourself. Don’t you think we’ve both been through enough torture?”

You could hardly believe what you were hearing. He was so strong. It shocked you, just how strong he was. He had been through so much, and yet he still carried himself like the man you knew. He still let other people lean on him even when it should have been him doing the leaning. It was remarkable, really.

“Since when did you get so wise?” You asked, and you had mustered a grin that made him smile too. “Where’s the stubborn man I once knew?”

Sirius shrugged. “He’s still in here somewhere. Just needs a little practice. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll meet him again soon.”

You scoffed, breathing out a laugh. “That’s alright. I kinda missed him.”

Sirius chuckled, and your smile widened. This felt easy—this was good. You were so worried that, after all this time, you wouldn’t know how to act around each other. You were so afraid that Sirius would walk around the flat like a ghost of the man who once called it home. But he didn’t. It only took him a few hours to start cracking jokes, brushing his fingers against yours. 

It wasn’t perfect—neither of you expected it to be. 

But it gave you hope. Sirius was going to be okay. You both were going to be okay. And you’d get there together.

—

A/N - Hi! Again, I'm so sorry for the wait. I honestly don’t love the outcome of this, but I figured I’d finish it anyways. I loved this request, and I just kept coming back to it and adding it. Hopefully this is what you were looking for, sorry if it’s shit. Thanks for the request :)

[fantasyescapes17]

Wings (Part 5, Final)

Your debut in society was as spectacular as one could be, but nobody had prepared you for what came afterward. When you find yourself overwhelmed during your very first season and unable to keep up with the rat race to secure yourself an eligible husband, a curious mentor appears- in the form of notorious flirt and self-proclaimed rake, Mr. Kim Mingyu.

Genre: Mingyu x Female!reader. Regency!AU. You are Jeonghan's sibling so your last name is Yoon but the reader has no other physical characteristics.

Warnings: smoking (don't smoke kids, the characters in this story are from a time when they didn't know how bad it was for their health)

Word Count: 4.5k+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Series Masterlist [You WILL need to read Patience, the earlier installment in this series first in order to understand the character dynamics in this story. Reading Candle before this is also strongly recommended.]

You had attended a handful of weddings in your life, but nothing could ever compare to your sister’s wedding to Mr. Choi. It was not the most lavish or spectacular event of the year. It was a simple ceremony in your local church with hardly twenty people in attendance. 

But no amount of decor or grandeur could have compensated for the utter devotion in the bride and groom’s eyes. The longing, the respect, the unconditional trust they both shared was too large to be contained within themselves. Their love was no game. It was an unavoidable truth. Every single person in the church felt it. Even, to an extent, your mother, who watched the ceremony in silence and did not make any attempt to ruin it. 

By the time the bride and groom departed for their long-awaited honeymoon, your handkerchief was soaked through with your tears.

“I think this has been an emotional week for all of us,” Jeonghan said to you as you both left the church. His voice was steady but you could see the mistiness in his eyes. “A lot of people were involved in making this wedding possible- not least of all, you.” 

You smiled up at your brother. “They had suffered long enough.” 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “And your suffering?”

You turned away from him quickly, sensing the approach of a topic that you did not wish to discuss. “I must find Jiwoo-” 

“No. Jiwoo is perfectly fine, he is with his governess,” your brother told you firmly, determined not to allow you to escape. “I am not an idiot, sister. I have given up attempting to find out exactly what occurred between yourself and Mr. Kim but my acquaintances tell me that he is on a journey across the English countryside and has been drinking every inn and tavern in his path dry.” 

You flinched at the mention of Mr. Kim. You had been avoiding any news of him; you did not want to even think about the man. 

“Unfortunate,” you said coldly. “Perhaps someone should intervene.” 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “So you have no intention of intervening yourself?” 

You stared at your brother in disbelief. “And what exactly do you expect me to do, Jeonghan? Do you consider me responsible for Mr. Kim’s health? Should I be following him around taverns and begging him not to imbibe? Please tell me how I could possibly prevent a fully grown gentleman from making poor choices with his time and money.” 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “I expect nothing from you. But when you react so strongly to a simple suggestion, it makes it difficult for me to believe that nothing occurred back in London.” 

“I do not wish to talk about it-”

“You must at least tell me what he did-” 

“No, I must not. I love you, brother; but please, stop this line of inquiry.” 

Jeonghan’s jaw clenched. It was not anger- he was simply frustrated, being too used to single-handedly solving the family’s problems. Having been left in the dark was difficult for him, but it was not enough to convince you to talk to him about your experiences in London. 

You wanted to put them far, far behind you. 

“Jiwoo!” you called out to the young boy. He was walking with his elderly governess, looking rather tired and sleepy. “You look quite exhausted; shall we go home?” you turned to his governess with a smile. “I can take Jiwoo from here. Mr. Choi would have informed you that he will be staying with me at the Yoon estate until the couple are back from their honeymoon.” 

The governess nodded and handed Jiwoo over to you. “Of course, my lady.” 

Jiwoo blinked up at you. “When will father be back?” 

“In a week,” you promised him. “But we shall have lots of fun together until then. Are you excited?” 

Jiwoo grinned up at you, looking a little more awake. “Yes.” 

“Come along, then- the carriage is waiting for us. Let us go home.” 

Jeonghan and your sister-in-law were still conversing with other wedding guests near the church so you went ahead and climbed into the carriage with Jiwoo. The carriage could double back for the others- the church was only a few minutes from the manor. Jiwoo cheerfully told you about his studies and his new pet frog, Bernard during the short carriage ride to the Yoon estate. 

You sensed that something was wrong as soon as the carriage door opened. There was a strange horse munching on the immaculate lawns near the manor entrance, and a servant-maid came running up to you, looking somewhat agitated. 

“Miss Yoon,” the maid said hurriedly. “Mr. Kim Mingyu arrived earlier this morning. I tried to tell him that everyone was at the wedding, but he insisted on waiting in the drawing room! He said he wanted to speak to you in particular, and I did not know if that was appropriate-” 

You took a deep breath. Your chest felt tight. You had known that you would have to face Mr. Kim Mingyu again, but you were not prepared for it to be right after your sister’s wedding while your emotions were still raw. You had expected that you would have more time to prepare for that particular encounter. 

Then again- Mr. Kim had never been so easily predictable. 

“I will handle it,” you told the maid calmly. “Please take Jiwoo upstairs. He is quite tired from the wedding, I am sure he could use a nap.” 

The maid took the young boy away and you allowed yourself a brief moment to regain your composure before walking into the drawing room. 

Mr. Kim was seated in an armchair, but he leapt to his feet as soon as you entered the room. He looked almost worse than he had the last time you saw him in London. He did not reek of whisky anymore but his bloodshot eyes, pale face and dry lips told you that his last drink had not been very long ago. Mr. Kim's handsome face was marred by fear, and his dark eyes looked anxious.

“Miss Yoon-”

“Mr. Kim,” you greeted him coldly. “I must assume that you were not aware of my sister’s wedding or you would surely have not come while the family was busy celebrating an event that you were not invited to.” 

Mr. Kim stared at you for a long moment in absolute silence. His hands were shaking and he bowed his head. 

“I-I was not aware of your sister’s wedding, allow me to offer my congratulations,” he said finally.

“The couple has already left for their honeymoon. You are too late to congratulate them.” 

“Ah.” 

“Was there a reason behind this unexpected visit?” you demanded. 

“I-I had to speak to you.” 

“Then speak.” 

There was a long silence that ensued. Your heart was beating at an unnatural rate. You could see the agony in every inch of Mr. Kim’s posture and as he bit his lip and ran his fingers through his hair. A part of you- the part of you that had fallen in love with him- ached to see him like this. But there was another part of you that remembered your own wounds and pain, and swiftly suppressed any sympathy that you could feel for him. 

The large grandfather clock in the corner of the room was ticking loudly. 

“Do you have anything to say?” you asked after an entire minute had gone by. “Or is it your intention to make me wait in silence all afternoon?” 

Mr. Kim cleared his throat. He was avoiding your gaze. “I am sorry. I-I had planned what to say to you, but somehow the words felt…” 

“Empty? Rehearsed?” you demanded. “Or perhaps you thought that your mere presence would be enough to move me, and that words were not necessary? Was it not you who taught me some vacuous nonsense about the art of silence?” 

He looked pained. “No, of course not-” 

“If you are struggling to find something to say, Mr. Kim, then allow me to spare you the effort. There is nothing that you could say that would ever make me forgive you."

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, wide and horrified. "Please don't say that-"

"I am not in the habit of lying."

"I am not here to lie to you," he insisted hotly. 

You clenched your fists and glared at him, almost challenging him to try and manipulate you again. 

"Then go on, Mr. Kim. Prove that you are not merely the rake that the world sees you as. Say one thing to me that is not some attempt to contrive or manipulate me. A single sentence that is not rehearsed, and that truly comes from your heart."

Mr. Kim took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. "I-I have been thinking about what I said to you, and-"

"No, try again," you said coldly. 

"I never meant to hurt you-"

"That is clearly a lie. Try again."

His face was beginning to turn red. "I was overwhelmed by my emotions and-"

"Excuses, excuses."

"I love you!" he burst out finally. His face was red and he was breathing heavily. "I love you, Miss Yoon, I love you so much that I cannot contain these emotions inside of my heart and this love overwhelms my thoughts, feelings, self-respect and every rational part of my mind. I love you more than I have ever loved anything in this world."

The confession was loaded. It hit you like a train- even you could not maintain your strong facade in the face of those heated words and Mr. Kim's dark, passionate gaze. 

"The right words," you said quietly, your voice cracking. "If only you had said them two weeks ago."

Mr. Kim's shoulders fell. 

"I know that I have no right to stand before you like this," he said passionately. Mr. Kim stepped closer to you and reached for your hands, grasping them tightly. "I have been a monster. I have hurt you and manipulated you, and wronged you. I am sorry."

You pulled your hands away from him sharply. 

"A simple apology cannot fix this mess, Mr. Kim."

"I know-"

"This is not some unintended mistake. You did not step on my foot or mispronounce my name. No- you manipulated me and played with my emotions over a period of months. Was any of it real? Or was it all a game to you?" you asked, your voice cracking. 

He looked torn. "It started as a game- I was so used to the thrill of the seduction. I saw a chance to woo the reputed Miss Yoon. The belle of the ball, the jewel of the ton, the most sought-after young debutante of the season, it was just such a tempting challenge…"

You felt sick. "Of course. It was a game to you. As I was warned so many times by everyone around me- I was young and naive, the ripe target for a rake."

He stepped away from you and took a deep breath. 

"There was a thrill," he admitted shamefully. "In getting to know you and discovering the little things about you, your vulnerabilities and strengths, how I could use them to make you fall in love with me. I showed you a side of me that I hoped you would fall for."

You said nothing. 

"But I never meant to hurt you," he insisted hotly. "You are blinded by your insecurities so you don't see certain things… I don't think you're aware of how beautiful and desirable you are. The whole ton was in love with you. You were the season's jewel, renowned for your beauty and approved by the Queen herself. It was a competition for your heart. You had so many suitors, and you could have had any bachelor you chose in a heartbeat. I never really expected you to fall in love with me. I thought you would marry someone else by the end of the season as you'd planned and it was a game, a harmless little game…"

"Harmless?" you demanded angrily. "Harmless for who, Mr. Kim?"

"I was wrong," he insisted. His face was red and he had turned away from you to pace the room. "I did not see that you were falling in love, I did not realise how dangerous my own feelings for you were becoming. Until the day we kissed in the gallery and I was forced to accept that this game had gone too far and gotten completely, utterly out of hand…"

You said nothing. Your throat felt heavy and you swallowed. 

Mr. Kim came over to you suddenly. He kneeled in front of you and his dark eyes met yours. You could see the pain, the love, the emotion that bubbled underneath the surface of his gaze.

"I made a mistake," he whispered. "Many mistakes. But I love you. I need you in my life. Nobody else- nothing else in this world can make me as happy as you make me. That is my truth."

You looked down at him. "And me?" you whispered. "How am I to be happy, Mingyu?"

"I will do anything in my power to make you happy," he promised vehemently. 

You shook your head. It was not enough. It would never be enough. Declarations of love and words of affection were quick to sway but you had been manipulated by this man before. You loved him- loved him with your entire heart but it was not enough. 

"I watched my sister getting married today," you told him shakily. "Do you know how long she and Mr. Choi have been waiting to marry?"

Mr. Kim blinked. "A few years?"

"Almost five years. My sister gave up her prime years in society for him, destroyed all her other prospects and waited for so long. I never understood how she could take that risk and wait so patiently for him without a shred of regret. I think I finally understood it today. That feeling they share… it's something more than just love, Mingyu."

He waited silently for you to continue. 

"It's trust," you finished. "And it doesn't matter how much I love you, because my trust in you is broken."

He recoiled as though you had slapped him. 

"Of course," he said quietly. "I understand."

"Then we are done here."

"No," he said firmly. "No, we are not done. I have not come here to give up so easily. If I have broken your trust then I will repair it. Even if it takes a year, or five or ten…"

You shook your head. "You can't be serious."

"I will prove to you that what we share is nothing less than what your sister shares with Mr. Choi," he promised. "I will wait until your trust in me is restored, I will show you the parts of me I was too ashamed to show you before. I will fix this."

You swallowed. "A bold promise."

"I know you don't believe me," he said quietly. "You do not need to. I will prove it to you."

"You can't-"

"I will," Mr. Kim said firmly. "I will tell you and show you how much I love you every single day until you choose to believe it."

"And if that day never comes?"

"Then let them engrave it on my tombstone."

You shook your head in disbelief. "Mingyu, really…"

"I love you."

—------------------------------------------------------

Joenghan was confused and wary when he discovered Mr. Kim had arrived uninvited during the wedding. But  since nobody would tell him exactly what was happening, he hesitantly extended an invitation to Mr. Kim to stay at the Yoon estate as long as he was in town. Mr. Kim accepted gratefully. 

You awoke the next morning to the sound of loud laughter; Mr. Kim was teaching Jiwoo how to ride a pony in the gardens. You quickly dressed and went downstairs to tell them to be quiet, and that it was far too early to be waking up the entire town. 

"Look; I am riding!" Jiwoo cried excitedly as he managed to control the pony without help. You could not resist a smile. 

"I see you and Jiwoo are having fun," you said to Mr. Kim drily. 

Mr. Kim smiled. "You speak of Jiwoo often; I thought befriending him might be useful. He promised to do anything for me if I taught him to ride one of the ponies, so I am simply keeping my promise."

You stared at him in disbelief. "And this does not seem manipulative to you?"

"It's hardly manipulative when I am being completely honest about what I am doing," Mr. Kim protested with a charming smile. "I do have to use some methods to win your heart, my dear Miss Yoon. I cannot simply sit here and expect my handsome face to do all the work."

"So this is your new tactic?" you demanded. "You will tell me what you are doing as you attempt to manipulate me?"

"One might call that honesty."

"One might call it brazen shamelessness."

"Call it what you will," he replied lightly. "I believe the arrangement benefits everyone involved. Jiwoo! Come back here!"

Jiwoo rode the pony back and dismounted before running over to you. Mr. Kim quickly took the pony's reins and calmed it down. 

"Did you see me riding Chocolate?" Jiwoo asked excitedly. 

You smiled at the boy. "I did. You did an excellent job! You must be very hungry after all that riding. Go inside and have breakfast- I will join you in a moment."

Jiwoo nodded before reaching into his pocket. 

"Mr. Kim asked me to give you this," the boy added before running away. 

You unfolded the sheet of paper that Jiwoo handed you. You were not sure what you had been expecting- but certainly not the words 'I love you' scrawled in Mr. Kim's familiar penmanship. You went over to him and raised an eyebrow.

"What is this?" you asked him. 

Mr. Kim blinked. "A love letter."

"Rather low effort, don't you think?" you asked. 

He chuckled. "Well, I had no choice. You are already familiar with all my flowery prose and poetry- you have my notes on the subject. I was worried you would see anything taken from there as ingenuine; therefore, I have chosen the path of simplicity and honesty."

You could not bite back your smile. "I see."

Mr. Kim turned his attention away from you and gave the pony an apple that he was carrying in his pocket. "I thought it would be best to befriend Chocolate the pony as well, seeing as he is one of your happiest memories. Luckily he is not much harder to sway than Jiwoo- he just needs a few apples."

"Don't overfeed him," you warned. 

"I will be careful. Let me put him back in the stables and then I will join you for breakfast. Speaking of which…"

You looked at him. "What?"

"That stableboy of yours doesn't still work here, does he?"

Your eyes widened in horror. "Mr. Kim!" you scolded him, appalled.

He grinned. "All right, all right. I had to ask."

"Unbelievable."

Perhaps it was because you knew how weak Mr. Kim made you,  you tried harder than necessary to resist his ensuing attempts to win your trust back. You were not going to make it easy for him to hurt you again. 

Your heart was already his- there was never a moment where it belonged to anybody but Mingyu. But your head was cautious, suspicious, ever-doubting his words and actions and intentions. 

Mr. Kim spent most of the winter either at the Yoon estate or nearby. He was always near you- his attention devoted to you, hanging onto your every word and making small gestures to win your heart. It soon became clear to your entire family that Mr. Kim Mingyu was desperately trying to woo you. Even once he returned to his own estate, he wrote long letters to you multiple times a week. 

Then came the season. 

—-------------------------------------------------------

Your second London season was far less exciting, but far more enjoyable than your first had been. The absence of your mother (she had chosen to stay in the countryside) and your newfound confidence made things easier and less stressful.

There was also a new set of nervous, pretty young debutantes for the ton to fawn over. You were not surprised to find yourself no longer one of the most desired young ladies of the ton. But Mr. Kim was not deterred. He continued to court you openly and while he was around, it was difficult not to feel like the most beautiful woman in the room. 

Mr. Kim was determined to make you fall in love with him all over again, and he succeeded. He accompanied you to every ball, promenaded with you when the weather was nice, and made it known to the ton that Mr. Kim was no longer a rake- he was now a much reformed man in love. 

He also showed you things that he claimed he would never have shown anyone else. One interesting evening was spent with both of you going over his finances, where you discovered just how much money Mr. Kim had invested in his art gallery, and how much he had lost over cards to your brother. 

"You do have a gambling problem," you scolded him. "No more cards for you, Mr. Kim."

He proceeded to sit miserably and empty-handed at the edge of the card tables in the assembly room for the next week, until you finally told him that you did not mind him playing a little. He was promptly made fun of by some of the other gentlemen but it did not seem to bother him- he only beamed at you across the room as they laughed about how you were not even married and controlled his finances already. 

As the weeks and months passed, you fell in love with Mr. Kim a second time. It was the same, and yet also different. 

He was still an excellent dancer, a charmer and could still make your heart skip a beat with his playful smile and dark twinkling eyes. But this Mr. Kim was more clumsy, more honest and less sure of himself than the suave rake you had fallen for the previous season. 

You were now privy to the less perfect sides of Mr. Kim. His frustration that the art gallery was not doing as well as he had hoped, his gambling habit, the hesitation that sometimes appeared in his eyes when he was unsure of himself. He confided in you about the struggles he had faced when his parents passed away while he was still young. You fell more in love with him when he shared these parts of him with you. 

The Mr. Kim you had initially loved was only an image, a small slice of the Kim Mingyu you had now grown to love and understand and even trust. 

"So," he said to you one evening as you both shared a Cuban cigar on the balcony of the Duchess of Graham's manor. There was a large celebration happening inside that you had both snuck away from. "We find ourselves back on this fateful balcony where we first met."

You smirked up at him and snatched the cigar from his fingers before taking a drag. "You mean where you found me crying on the floor."

Mr. Kim shrugged. "I didn't want to bring it up…"

"I think I've changed a lot since then."

"You have," he said quietly. He gave you a small smile. "I know I only made things more difficult and it's not my place to say, but… I am proud of you."

You bit your lip. "I am proud of myself too."

"Good," he said with a nod. 

"But I should probably stop smoking."

"Probably."

"Shall we quit together?" you asked him. "We've only been doing this as a way to spend time with each other, and I think we are rather past needing to find excuses to be alone together."

Mr. Kim looked amused as you put out the cigar on the railing. 

"If you think we should quit, then I am not going to argue," he said lightly. 

You nodded and hummed. "And perhaps we should stop meeting on other people's balconies like this."

"Now you are making me worry."

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a small book- it had been entrusted to you by Miss Ella Williams, who had gifted it to you for your use since you were one of her few unmarried friends. You showed Mr. Kim the pages with his name and the lengthy list of ladies he had courted. 

He winced. "I feel a sudden urge to defend myself by pointing out that yours is the last name on that list- but I am sure you would not be standing here if it wasn't."

You giggled. "True," you said. 

Then with a swift move, you ripped Kim Mingyu's page out of the book and pressed the end of your cigar against the page to light it on fire. The paper smouldered and slowly burned into a small pile of ash. 

Mr. Kim was watching you closely with his dark eyes. 

"I am scared to ask why you just burned my page," he said warily. "Should I be worried?"

"This book will probably get passed onto one of the newer debutantes," you replied simply. "Not only is the information outdated, I wouldn't want any of them to think you were an available bachelor."

The corner of his lips curved upwards. "I see. I take it that I am no longer an available bachelor then."

"Are you?" you challenged him. 

"Absolutely not."

You kissed him. Mr. Kim stumbled backwards in surprise but his back hit the balcony railing and he embraced you firmly before returning the kiss. His lips were clumsy yet eager as they covered yours and one of his hands slid into your hair. 

"Marry me," he whispered hotly against your lips as you pressed your body against his. He seized your waist and held you tightly as he whispered again, pushing you for a response. "Marry me, please."

You pressed your forehead against his and nodded, breath mingling as your own fingers slid into his hair and caressed his neck. 

"Yes-yes, of course-"

"Come closer, my love-"

The door to the balcony opened suddenly. You pulled back- but Mr. Kim's arm stayed around your waist and you could only turn awkwardly in his grasp to see who had discovered you. 

It was the Duke of Graham, eyes wide and his ears turning red as he realised what he had walked into. 

"W-we're engaged," you blurted out quickly, in explanation and a desperate attempt to convince the Duke of Graham, a man you had never even met, that you were not creating a scandal in his home. You could hear a small chuckle from Mr. Kim over your shoulder. 

"All right…" the Duke said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Erm, Congratulations?"

Oh god. 

—----------------------------------------------------

[apomaro-mellow]

Part 2

This time around, Dustin let Will handle the camera. Not only because he was super busy on this day, but Will had also proven himself a talented director. He was currently capturing grade A gold of Steve deciding which hair products to pack away for the day.

He had packed and unpacked the bag at least three times while Dustin was making final arrangements in the kitchen by phone.

“Steve, I swear to god!”

“Hey! No yelling. You promised this would be the one day, no yelling”, Steve snapped.

Dustin huffed, then returned to his phone call.

“I think you���ll look fine”, Will said from behind the camera. “Eddie’s gonna love how you look no matter what.”

Steve smiled fondly at him for that. “Remind me why I didn’t make you my best man again?”

“Because Dustin would have skinned you alive?”

“Yeah, that’s why”, Steve nodded. He figured out his perfect products and closed up the bag. “Alright. I’m ready to get married.”

More like he was ready to begin preparing for the process to start getting ready to be married. But he was ready all the same.

Dustin was his best man. For the record, he had asked Robin first. But then she spent about an hour rambling about how horrible of a job she’d do with the planning and her anxiety and ruining his perfect day while being incredibly flattered and Steve decided to take her out of her misery.

“Just be where I need you”, he had said.

“Can do.”

--------------------

While Steve went into a small room to get started on his hair, Dustin talked to Will, camera off.

“Okay, we’ve got a small window here. You ready for this?”

“You really think they’ll like it?”, Will asked.

“Those saps? They’ll be showin’ it to their grandkids”, Dustin said. 

Will beamed. They could do this. And hopefully Steve and Eddie would appreciate the thought behind it.

-----------------

Eddie had proposed on January 2nd, 1990. He definitely planned to do a whole New Year’s thing, but had both chickened out and gotten distracted (another story for another time). But when he finally nutted up, he had told Steve he didn’t want another decade to go by without Steve being his husband.

“I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you in a mosh pit, babe.”

“Eddie, that was three years ago.”

“Three years of torture.” Of not really knowing what the future held for them. Of knowing that even if they belonged to each other in every other way, it wouldn’t be recognized in many people’s eyes. But Eddie finally decided that he officially didn’t care if it wasn’t official. It was real to him and the man he loved. That made it more real than anything else.

And now he was staring at him, with El standing as officiator. She had been the flower girl at her first wedding (Joyce and Jim’s) and had been very fascinated with the person who got to actually marry the couple. She cleared her throat and began to speak, welcoming all the guests in a voice that was strong and full of adoration for the idea of two people professing their love in front of an audience of family and friends.

Then it came time for vows and Eddie typically didn’t shy away from his feelings but he had planned wear even more of his heart on his sleeve. Not only had Steve’s parents responded to the invite, they had attended. And he was gonna let them know just how special their son was.

When it was Steve’s turn, he was definitely already tearing up, but he got out everything he wanted to say. He wondered briefly if Robin saw a similar future for herself or Will.

But then El was practically bouncing on her heels to say her favorite part of all this and anything pertaining to non-Eddie thoughts left his mind.

“I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.”

It really was the sweetest kiss Steve had ever received.

--------------------

The musical selection at the reception was probably the oddest playlist possible but both grooms had wanted everyone to have a chance on the dance floor. Once it into full swing, everyone was getting a little of the grooms’ attention. And if it wasn’t the guests, they had their eyes on each other. So they could be forgiven for not noticing when a few of their friends disappeared.

Will, Jonathan, Nancy, and Dustin had left the hall to prepare their gift for the couple. When it was ready, Dustin walked out onto the stage to get everyone’s attention.

“A few of us have made something special for the men of the hour. Steve, Eddie, with all due respect: I told you so. And without further ado, solid proof that I am always right.”

A video began playing on a projector. One with Eddie and Steve as the focus, with Dustin obviously narrating from behind the camera. It was a little shakey, but something in Steve’s heart cracked at hearing Dustin’s still cracky voice from years ago, putting his own little spin on his and Eddie’s courtship.

“That little shit”, Steve whispered when the scene of him in the bathroom came up. But it had none of the bite it normally did when he was tearing up. Eddie brought his hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. He was feeling a little vindication seeing their romance from the outside. In some of the scenes, Steve looked just as nervous as he had been. He had just been too blinded by love at the time to notice.

But then it changed from clips of their budding romance to the current events of today. 

As Dustin had been busy with best man business, Will was handling the camera and Lucas was voicing over for Steve’s actions from outside a window.

“On this, the most important day of his life, Steve is attended by the most trusted members of his pack.” 

Steve sat in front of a mirror while Robin did his hair, slapping his hands away every time he tried to interfere. Dustin was using a lint roller on his suit. Steve’s face was a storm of emotion as he tried to fidget with his hair. But Robin was on top of her game today.

“In less than an hour, Steve will officially enter a pair bond for life. Now let’s check in with Eddie.”

The shot changed to Eddie’s preparation. And while Steve anxious feelings were palpable, yet under control, Eddie was letting them all gush forth in the adrenaline thick atmosphere among his groomsmen.

“I’m gonna marry him!”, he shouted.

“You’re gonna marry him!”, Gareth and Jeff shouted back.

Eddie was pacing wildly around the room, sometimes pausing to hop on his feet. “I’m getting married today. I’m marrying Steve. Let’s go! Let’s do this! Nancy! Hit me!”

Nancy obliged him with a slap on the face and that got him even more hype, lifting the energy of the room even more. The handler of the camera turned it towards themselves, revealing Mike was the one recording. And he was definitely wondering how he got here. Then he turned it back towards Eddie.

“Okay, I just gotta ask one last time...”

Nancy gave him a warning look. “Mike...”

“Why Steve?”

Eddie’s smile got even bigger if that was possibly. “He’s belongs in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Mini Wheels. It’s like I’m in little league and I hit a home run against a pro. You shouldn’t be asking me ‘why Steve?’ You should be asking me how.”

Steve turned to Eddie and was trying to convey just how with only his eyes. As they had just described in vivid detail in words. Eddie got the message and kissed him again.

The video went on to show the actual wedding, Will and Jonathan handling two cameras and then a third, floating at an impossible angle. Leave it to El to work double time for such an occasion. 

Seeing it all again from the outside...It had really happened, hadn’t it?

“We’re married, baby”, Eddie beamed.

When the video ended, they were kissing each other again. And again and again and for once, Dustin’s self righteous attitude didn’t rain on their parade. If anything they were actually proud of him for seeing what they hadn’t. You’ll never get them to admit it though.

END

Tag Team

@henderdads

@lightwoodbanethings

@mightbeasleep

@beautifully-useless

[sanjisblackasswife]

Trafalgar D. Law NSFW Alphabet

Black Fem Reader in Mind

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Law is a clean guy, he would prefer to take a bath/shower almost immediately after sex and then cuddle because he hates to sit in fluids for too long, but some nights he does get a bit rougher with you so a few back rubs and soft kisses for a moment before he bathes you. He always ask “Was I okay?” , “Did I go too hard?”, “I didn’t hurt you did I?” It’s very sweet seeing how soft he gets after sex.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Just like Sanji he loves his hands, he is aware of the use they have and he actually likes how much you love them too

He is a sucker for thighs, he doesn’t know what it is but the way they shake when you walk, run, or even from being under him he can’t help but subtly bite his lip smirking

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Once again. Very clean guy and he practices safe sex almost always unless you pretty much BEG for him to make a mess inside you. He came on your face once and he will never admit it but it was one of the hottest things he has ever seen.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants you to play with yourself as he works/study in his office. You came in to bother him, but he kept ignoring you. Eventually you said, “Fine. I’ll just lay on your couch and fuck myself then.” He never turned around so quickly after hearing you fake moan. He is embarrassed to even think about the possibility of you even trying it and more embarrassed that he hopes you do. Law obviously doesn’t know how to approach you about the situation so sometimes he tries to “trick” you into doing it by saying “Then go ahead and do it.” But you never do

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Okay so I do believe Law has had sex at least once, but it had to have been with someone he was close to. He isn’t really a one night stand kinda guy. But he is also a doctor and he has read about how to please a woman, G-spots, etc, so even if he was a virgin you probably wouldn’t have guessed

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Side ways sex is a personal favorite, he swears he feels more of you. He loves when you look back at him to tongue kiss him, his tatted hand grips your thighs as he thrust up into you. It’s usually initiated when you’re laying on your side and he slides behind you and starts kissing your ear.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He takes sex pretty serious. It’s not like you can’t goof off with him but it’s purely on accident sometimes. It’s usually you who initiates the goofy side during foreplay and he makes a snarky remark back but once you both start going at it it’s no more joking purely romantic.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has a happy trail and it’s actually pretty well trimmed and very attractive for some reason. You see it peak when he stretches and his shirt lifts.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

If you ask he can be very romantic, he is still very stoic, but behind that attitude he is a blushing mess hoping you enjoy the roses he gives you and the candles around the bubble bath he drew for you. He’ll hold you in the bath while you play with his fingers. Law will kiss your forehead and knuckles silently appreciating you as you talk your head off to him that’ll eventually lead to tub sex

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not a lot actually. If you’re not around or if he doesn’t want to bother you he will take a shower and do one. Either than that he didn’t do it much before or after getting with you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BDSM: If you want, he really wants to tie you down, seeing you squirm and not have much control like pushing his head back or moving away really is something he thinks about doing to you when you act like a brat sometimes. He is even willing to let you tie his wrist ONCE ever BLUE MOON though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Does not EVER want to get caught. Either the bedroom, bathroom, or no where. The thought alone makes him cringe.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It’s so hard to tell with this man, because it depends on his mood. But so far what always gets him to crack just a little no matter how stressed he is is when you walk around in his shirt and nothing else. When he is sitting at his desk and you walk in to sit beside him. He will glance at your thighs, contemplating on touching them, he always ends up doing so, but if he takes too long to decide you can take his hand and do it for him. Works like a charm.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn’t like being teased around a lot of people, it’s okay if you do it where he knows nobody can see or hear what you said but he has a strict not getting seen rule so if you break it he gets mad. Like not in a “Oh imma get you back for it later” more in a “Do not fucking do that again” and doesn’t talk to you for a week type of mad.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Fingers and tongue works magic man. He doesn’t mind eating you out, but he never offers it. You however. Are his little toy. Law will work your mouth and throat OUT if you’re not careful. Face fucking is something he loves doing as well.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and deep strokes are his thing. Not even in a sensual way but in a way where he wants you to feel every vein, ridge and curve he has. Each time he snaps his hips into you he looks at your face and he how knocks the wind out of you each time. He usually does that when he is holding your ankles to his chest

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Can love with or without ‘em. He has done it a few times before leaving the ship or when everybody was distracted and you were needy, but he doesn’t mind waiting for actual sex

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

The most he will experiment is with toys and probably roleplay . you have offered a doctor patient roleplay idea to him and it was a big turn on so probably like once a month or so you both do a “Routine Check Up”

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

From Foreplay until you both finish it last about 30 minutes. He knows where your G-Spot is EXACTLY so foreplay never lasts too long. If you both were riled up from events that day it may last an hour with small breaks in between

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

As for now a vibrator and handcuffs. He likes using them both on you at the same time.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You stress this man out like Luffy so of course he gets his revenge and uses his own DF to tease you across the room. Some days though he’ll make you wear vibrating panties with a remote just to really torture you. Sometimes you’ll look over at him, knees buckling and he will smirk and wink back before walking away

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Groaner, but only in your ear. The only way to get a lot of noise out of him is If you’re riding him. He just can’t take your body on top of him and starts to curse and moan your name slightly trying to fight from cumming too fast.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He can speak fluent Spanish and knows ASL. He taught you some ASL words so you both can communicate from afar. It’s really attractive.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Another grower not a shower: 4 on soft and 6 half on hard. It’s slightly thicker than usual with two veins on the side. Otis not the prettiest, but it does it’s job.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Was never high to begin with but it rose a bit when he got with you. On a non busy week you guys have sex about 2-3 times a week, but on a regular week probably once with a quickie or two depending how much time you guys have.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After a bath and clean sheets he holds you very similar to how he holds Bepo. Law doesn’t fall asleep quite easily but he still holds you from the back with his head buried in your hair/neck. His eyes are closed but if you’re talking to him he responds.

[yandere-chocolate]

Yandere Fae x Male Reader ~(Romantic)~

TW/CW: fae. Just-fae. Possessive behavior, creepiness, might not be the most accurate when it comes to dnd fae or the legend of the fae.

You always felt weird around Orpheus. He was absolutely gorgeous, no doubt, but he just had a strange aura around him. You felt like you should be afraid whenever he came near you.

He wasn’t mean! In fact, he was quite charming! He always complimented your physical appearance & always seemed to recognize & congratulate you when you did something good. It wasn’t too patronizing but it was awkward. You just assumed it was because Orpheus doesn’t have many friends so he’s trying to make new ones. You get that.

As for how you met Orpheus? Well, he’s just a friend of a friend! Your friend met him thought he was just beautiful, & being the lovesick hopeless romantic she is, she befriended him! You told her she shouldn’t befriend people just because she thinks they’re hot, but you couldn’t convince her. Or maybe you did. You don’t really know.

Though you had to admit, you found it ironic that it was your friend who wanted to date him & yet he was flirting with you! Or at least, that’s what it looked like.

“Hello~” the deep voice sang as Orpheus & your friend swung open the door. Huh. Perfect timing.

Your friend sat down on the couch with you as you read your book. You began to get up, knowing you need to get out the board games, when the 2.0 meter tall male put a hand over your chest & pushed you back onto your couch. “Don’t worry, I’ll get them.” The deep voice purred, walking into the kitchen to make you all some tea & then get the games.

You blushed as the touch lingered on your chest. You were sure he didn’t mean it to be flirtatious—but if he did it’s working.

Soon Orpheus returned with tea & board games.

.

.

.

“What a pretty boy~” the high fea thought as you all began playing. “He’s just what I needed.” The man smiled & stayed quiet on the outside. But he’s secretly been planning on stealing you away since he first met you.

See, poor Orpheus has been a bit lonely in the fae realm. Even being a high fae who is introduced to many potential grooms & brides, Orpheus still felt as though it wasn’t enough. So he went to the human realm, where he met you. Typically high fae don’t take humans for consorts, but no one would try to stop him. No who would survive.

The night was soon over. You all played video games, watched tv, & Orpheus even made some food for you both! Though, Orpheus didn’t eat any of it.

Your friend left, but you soon noticed Orpheus didn’t leave with her. That’s when you felt two warm hands on your shoulders & you felt his mouth right next to your ear.

“Can I talk to you for a little bit?~” Orpheus purred. It sent a shiver up your spine. Your gut told you to run away or at least be cautious. But you just tried to relax. Sure, Orpheus was tall & almost ethereally beautiful, but he had been nothing but kind to you. You shouldn’t kick him out for things he can’t control.

The two of you sat down & Orpheus explained why he stayed behind.

“You see, I was curious if we could…go on a date? Just one & you can decide if you want to go on another.” Orpheus feigned a sheepish smile. Whatever answer you give, he will have you as his human groom.

For whatever reason, you said yes.

“Say…I never got your name, darling~” he asked & you told him. He smirked & left to get himself ready for the date

You went out that very next night. It went smoothly. He took you to out to eat & you guys even went to an arcade!

It was about midnight when he took you out to the forest. You immediately felt off the second he led you into the dark woods. I mean, you were going into the midnight forest with a tall man who you barely even knew. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

Your worries quickly melted away when he showed you a part of the forest you had never seen before. Lots of flowers, a river that sparkled under the moonlight…

As you were admiring the beautiful scenery, Orpheus spoke; “I found something even more interesting~” he told you as he held your hand & pulled you even deeper into the forest.

He led you to a clearing, with wild flowers & a ring of mushrooms in the middle.

“Isn’t this interesting, sweetheart?~” you nodded. It was cool that a bunch of mushrooms formed in a perfect circle like that.

Orpheus grabbed your hand. “Why don’t we go inside? Darling?~” the deep voice purred directly into your ear from behind you, causing you to shudder.

The other man gingerly took your hand once more & began leading you into the circle. You felt weightless as the two of you stepped into the middle.

Suddenly, you felt tired as Orpheus bent down to place his face into the the crook of your neck. “Mmm~” he hummed, satisfied. With what? You don’t know. Wait…did he always have that horn? Two horns…humans don’t usually have any horns at all.

“Oh, you poor, innocent human…~” the seductive voice rumbled into your ear before letting out a low chuckle. You felt so tired.

“Oh, I can’t believe it…finally…all mine~ my human~ my groom~” Orpheus laughed, “rest well, my sweet~ you’re going to need it.” The fae lord said sinisterly before you finally let go & fell limp in his arms. You weren’t dead, oh no! You were simply asleep.

“I wonder how he will react when he wakes up~” the fae thought before allowing the portal to take you both to his realm.

(I decided to draw this character! This was my first time using this style, so that’s why it’s not my best.)

[atomic-taco-muffin]

Reminder: Zack Fair NSFW ABCs

Just Sayin’

Thank you for that! I accidentally deleted the other one so I'm glad you resent it

Zack Fair NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: Mommy kink, pegging, edging, oral (both receiving). If you don’t like it, then scroll away and/or block me. 

Rating: NSFW under the cut. Proceed with caution

(Zack how is it legal for you to be this cute?!?!?!?!)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Zack is the KING of aftercare!!!! He’s doing every page in the book!!! He’s giving you a bath, giving you massages, the whole shebang!!! If you want anything to eat, he’s heading out to the kitchen (or ordering something online) and making your favorite food. If not, then he’ll cuddle you and put on a movie

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Zack is the kind of person who doesn’t have a favorite part. Both on you and himself. He thinks everything about you is beautiful and everything on him is handsome (self love people!!!!)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Zack’s cum is kind of thick, but not by much. But at least there’s a lot of it!!!! His favorite place to cum is either on you or in you. But he’ll only do it in a condom. Unless the two of you are ready to start a family, it’s gonna be strictly in a condom. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s always wanted to be a femboy but he’s to afraid of being caught and humiliated. He even bought a dress and a couple of cute socks but never got a chance to wear them cause he’s that afraid. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

This I’m a little torn about. He gives me the vibe where he doesn’t know what he’s doing and his only exposure to sex is through porn. But he also gives the vibe that he does know. So I’m torn. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Zack never likes to be rough so his favorite positions are ones that he can be soft and gentle on you with. So that includes missionary, cowgirl (both reversed and regular cowgirl), and lotus. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

OH FUCK YES!!!!!! He loves to be goofy!!! He’s goofy all the time! When foreplay is happening, he always blows raspberries whenever he can. And he will giggle the every time you shriek and squirm. He loves how ticklish you are. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Oh yes!!! They definitely match the drapes. Unfortunately, he’s not that well groomed. He’s too afraid of shave cause the last time he tried, he accidentally cut himself. And he doesn’t trust any razor that says that it wouldn’t cut skin. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He takes intimacy to the MAX!!!! I’m talking, champagne, candles, rose, EVERYTHING!!!!!! And since I see him at a service dom, he’s making sure you feel good every time. You’re pleasure comes WAY before his

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Zack becomes SUBBY when he jacks off. There was one time you caught him in the middle of it and he accidentally came all over himself. And let’s just say his world was rocked for the next couple of hours

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Since Zack is a switch/service dom in my books, here’s a few kinks that I think he will have:

Mommy kink: this man whines it so cutely that you can’t help but giggle a little. Bonus points when he paws at you, wanting kisses. 

Pegging: He LOVES it!!!! He never thought in a million years it would feel this good! He’s almost addicted to it. 

Edging: Oh my god, he loves it. On both you and him!!!! He thinks it’s so cute to hear your cute little whines. And when he gets edged, he’s a squirming mess. He’s begging and squirming, wanting to cum so hard. But edging really happen. Again, he’s more about the intimacy. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He will do it everywhere in your guys’ shared apartment but that’s it. Public sex freaks him out. He doesn’t want anyone to catch you guys. He’ll get so embarrassed. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you give him massages and massage around his ass. He gets so hard and he can’t help but grind into the sheets. Another thing that turns him on is whispering the most dirtiest things in his ear. The blush that appears on his face is so adorable!!!

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He refuses to have rough sex with you. And he does not want to hurt you in any way. Even if it’s something as small as spanking. He’s such a sweet baby boy!!!!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves oral. Again, both on you and on him. But be aware when he eats you out, he won’t stop. You taste SO good to him. Also, sit on his face! He loves it

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes it nice and slow. Again, he loves the intimate parts of sex and not the rough. But if you convince him, he will go a bit faster. But being rough is off the table. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are not his most favorite thing in the world, but if it’s a situation where a quickie is needed, then yeah, he’ll have one. Just don’t expect them to have them a lot. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Zack is not one for experimenting. Unless it’s position wise. That’s the only exception. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’ll go as long as you want to, but the most he can handle is from about one to two rounds. Anything more than that, then his vision becomes hazy and nearly passes out. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys are questionable. He’s starting to come around to the thought of vibrators. But everything else is still questionable.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Teasing he’s somewhat okay with. It doesn’t happen a lot, but when it does it’s so worth it!!! Both if he teases you and if you tease him. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

There’s two ways this can go, either whiny subby baby, or gentle service dom:

When he’s subby, he turns into a whiny, moaning mess. He loves the feeling of you in him. He loves having you stroke his cock and making him cum so hard while having the cutest face on. 

When he’s domming, he doesn’t make a lot of sounds. You’ll mostly hear him whisper sweet nothings in your ear and maybe a few groans here and there. And when he’s whispering in your ear, he’s stroking your hair too, letting you know that he’s still there. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

There was one time you had a threesome with Cloud. Through most of the time, you and Cloud dominated Zack. Was it worth it? Yes. Would he do it again? Who knows? 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s HUGE!!!! It’s shocking to see how big he is and yet how gentle he is with you!!! He’s almost 11 inches and has a fat girth. And he’s got some heavy balls too. Do with that knowledge what you will. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is in the middle. He’s not overly horny and he doesn’t have a really low sex drive either. To him, if he wants to have sex, then he’ll ask you (CONSENT IS IMPORTANT PEOPLE). If he doesn’t, then he doesn’t.  

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’ll fall asleep once he knows you’re cleaned up, comfortable, and asleep. And when I tell you this man gives the best cuddles!!!! He’s like a big teddy bear!!! And he’s like you’re own personal heater!!!

[trans-luis-serra-navarro]

I remember there was a headcanon about Luis attending a school that had secret connections with Umbrella. Now I can't help but think if Leon and Luis have a kid, they would do extensive background checks on schools their kid would attend, because they'll want to make sure none of those schools were associated with Umbrella/have ties to corrupt companies/organizations.

Thank you so much for sending in an ask!!!!!!! But yesyesyesyesyes I know the headcannon you’re talking about!!!!!! From memory I think either @geddy-leesbian or @hamartia-grander made some pretty extensive posts going into this idea??? Either way its really fascinating to think about!!!!

For those of you who don’t know, the headcannon/theory basically revolves around the fact that Luis was able to graduate school seemingly pretty quickly/was considered a ‘child prodigy’, and that in-universe theres a few characters who attended schools created specifically by Umbrella to essentially indoctrinate them; one of the most notable being the Umbrella Executive Training School that William and Wesker attended.

Umbrella has a few random facilities like this (like the Rockford Prison) And considering the fact that Europe seemed to be a relatively big hub for Umbrella, it DEFINITELY wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say that they’d have a similar school with the intent of training/indoctrinating ‘child prodigies’ to work for them in the future, and it’d be even less pf a stretch to assume that Luis, who came from a VERY sheltered religious background, would be a very easy subject to pick (cuz! yippee!! capitalist grooming am i right or am i right!!) It’d also absolutely lend a hand to why Luis grabbed as many items as he could and just BOOKED IT immediately after finding out what their plans for Nemesis REALLY were (I could talk about that part of his life/that realisation for HOURS oh my GOD)

EDIT I FORGOT TO ADD: Umbrella on some level does work quite like a cult. I’ll link a post that does a MUCH better job explaining it than I could in the replies of this post, but creating facilities for the sole purpose of indoctrinating already vulnerable young people into being on board with your project and isolating them from friends and family is like. Cult behaviour 101 BFNEHENDJDJ which is VERY painful to think about how Luis got roped into cults THREE times. Valdelobos before Saddler showed up wasn’t EXPLICITLY a cult, but considering it was isolated from modern society and heavily Catholic theres a strong argument to be made- then of course theres Umbrella- then of course he was blackmailed into working with Los Illuminados. I’ll make a post going deeper into that SOMEDAY, but like,,,, just the tragedy of his life being one big cycle he cant break is just. So devastating man are you KIDDING ME

I’m not like. SUUUUUPER knowledgeable on super obscure lore stuff like locations/facilities etc, so if you have a question about that specifically @highball66 would probably be a better person to ask!!!!

But again we know like. NOTHING about the inbetween time between Luis running away from Valdelobos as a child and him popping up as one of Umbrella’s top scientists other than the fact that he was a child prodigy and he excelled in college- hell even the dates/ages get kinda wonky at times BHFNEHENEUDNSIS but also this is Resident Evil where things get wonky a lot of the time so!!! Eh!!!!!!!

I have my own personal theory on what he did during that time inbetween I would be SO MORE THAN HAPPY to ramble about HDNEHENDJDN

BUT TO THE POINT OF YOUR QUESTION!!! YES!!!!!!!! ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!!!!! Plus just in general with Leon having a lot more enemies than friends, doing background checks on teachers or whatever would probably seem like paranoia to an outsider but to them?????? Nah you can NEVER be safe. Plus Leon’s like, a government agent- he obviously doesn’t have a TON of autonomy but I can imagine he at least has SOME power to dig up information on people. AND, the both of them literally went through hell and back to save Ashley, who was kidnapped right under the presidents nose- So like!! Hell yeah they’d be paranoid abt where their kids going man!!!!!!!! Rightfully so I think!!!

[gummydummy19]

Kinktober day 1: Ball-Sucking

The do-over

Summary: Your boyfriend Sy gets back from tour and you show him how much you’ve missed him. (Yes I know it's basic but the point is you get to suck his balls so just go with it)

Content Warning: smut (obviously), fluff(because it’s me), cursing (because it’s sy),

A/N: AAARRGGHH my first Sy fic!!! I’m praying you guys like it! Here's the deal. This was supposed to be very short, but I soon found myself writing A LOT of backstory. I feel like I kinda rushed through the story itself tho to get to the smut part because I didn't wanna make it a full fic but....idkkkk! I just hope you guys like it!

Word Count: 1200+

You met Sy 6 months ago, at your roommate's Birthday party. The second you laid eyes on him, you were foaming at the mouth.

When you asked your friend why you had never seen him before she said it was because he just got back from a tour. Immediately intrigued, you got yourself together and started a conversation with him.

And boy were you grateful you did.

That night you and Sy stumbled through the dark hallways of his apartment and made quick, filthy love.

Being the southern gentleman he was, the next morning he brought you breakfast in bed and apologized for not at least taking you out to dinner first.

He explained how it had been a while since he’d even felt a woman’s touch and you assured him you had most definitely, thoroughly enjoyed yourself.

And you weren’t lying either. It might have been quick but you’d never met a man who made you feel that good (twice) in just 10 minutes.

However, Sy wasn’t as content and begged you to let him take you out on a real date.

You happily obliged, and thus began your relationship with Sy.

In the following couple of days, Sy proved to be much more than a pretty face and gorgeous body. He was sweet, caring, and funny.

Sadly, your bliss was short-lived, because a few days later Sy got sent out for the last 6 months of his tour.

It was hard to be away from him altogether after spending basically every waking moment in his presence for the past week. Not to mention, you were pent-up as hell. It felt as if someone had given you a bite of the most delicious cake in the world and then they had taken your cake and sent it to Irak for six fucking months.

Anywho, after what was probably the six longest months of your life, your doorbell rang, and there he was. Standing there in all his glory, head freshly buzzed, beard neatly groomed and his muscles nearly ripping through his shirt.

"Hi there, sugar." He greeted you with a smirk.

Hearing his voice made you realize this was actually happening, he was actually here, standing on your doorstep.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong but I think I owe you a do-over?"

"Are you sure you wanna do that after a 6-month drought, captain?" you teased, "Or is there something I should know about?"

"Oh yeah! I got down and dirty every chance I got over there." He joked, taking a step closer to you.

"So that's what you boys get up to in those bunk beds."

"Shut your pretty mouth, Honeypie"

"Come and shut it for me"

With that Sy finally launched forward and attached his lips to yours. His big, rough hands came up to grab the side of your face, and your own smaller, softer ones immediately covered them, not wanting to miss out on a single one of his touches.

Sy moved you back toward the living room. You lost balance when the back of your knees hit the couch and plopped down on it, finally making you break the kiss.

You were both panting. Sy stayed standing up and he looked down at you as you sat there looking up at him meeting his gaze. Your eyes were glossy and your lips were puffy, your chest was rapidly falling and rising, you looked absolutely divine.

After a few seconds of nothing but admiring one another in dead silence. You moved your hands towards his belt. He moved to cover your hands with his own, to tell you you didn't have to.

"Let me, Sy. Please?"

He quietly removed his hands and let you get back to unbuckling his pants. Neither of you broke eye contact while you slowly took off his belt and removed his pants. When you slipped down his boxers and his cock sprung free, that's when you broke away from his gaze, only for a second, and then your eyes were boring into his again.

He looked god-like, standing there in all his glory. looking down at you with his eyes hooded and his mouth slightly agape.

When you opened your mouth, his eyes scrunched shut. He threw his head backward, expecting to feel your lips around his tip. Nothing could have prepared him for what you did instead.

You gently moved his cock up. Softly holding it between your fingers, not stroking it, not even squeezing it, just holding it up.

Your tongue poked out and you softly gave a kitten lick. Not on his tip, not on his shaft, on his balls.

A hiss left Sy's mouth and you sucked in one of his balls fully in your mouth. Making sure to be gentle, you slightly sucked on it and sloshed your tongue around the sensitive skin.

"Holy fucking mother of- CHRIST!!!" Sy cursed.

Drops of pre-cum started leaking from his cock and as much as you wanted to taste him, you decided to keep your mouth focused on his balls and use the salty liquid coating his shaft as lube to help you jerk him off.

It quickly became messy. Sy was a babbling mess above you. His head was thrown back and one of his hands covered his face while the other rested on the back of your head.

You were drooling and slobbering on his balls like your life depended on it while stroking his cock with a nice even rythm.

"Shit, baby! Gonna make me cum like that."

"Hmmmmm...yeah cum for me, Sy. Missed you so much."

You hummed and moaned with your mouth still stuffed full of his balls. The vibrations made him shudder and groan and he clawed at your hair to try and ground himself.

"Fuck baby gonna cum! 'm gonna fucking cum, shit!"

His balls drew up and you quickly switched your hands with your mouth. Sucking his shaft to the back of your throat and swallowing every single drop of his salty cum, while your hands fondled his sack.

"Holy fuck, baby. If I had known you'd suck me off like that I would have swam back overseas myself." he said, out of breath and only half joking.

You chuckled at his response and used his woozy state to your advantage by yanking his limp arm, making him fall on the couch next to you.

you snuggled up against him and nuzzled into his neck, inhaling the scent you had missed so much and placing soft kisses on the exposed skin to help him come down.

"I missed you too by the way." He breathed out, clearly more relaxed now.

"But I thought this was supposed to be my do-over? I should be taking care of you, sugar."

"Oh, this was for me." You said in a matter of factly tone, "I wasn't gonna let you get away with the 'it's been a while" excuse again, Captain. Hopefully this time you last longer."

Obviously, you were just trying to get a rise out of him, but Sy's mouth still hung open in disbelief.

"Oh come here, you little minx" He growled before jumping on top of you.

It turns out your first time with Sy really was a false representation of his stamina because after his do-over you know that once he gets you in bed, you aren't going anywhere for the next hour(s).

Taglist;

@metalbuckaroo

@princessayveke

@montsepliego

@scxrletrecsmarvel

@hopelesslyrogers

@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

@tfandtws

@vicmc624

@ahahafudge

@enchantedbarnes

@wickedravyn

@pono-pura-vida

@amayaraestyles

@matchat3a

@fictional-hooman

@sebastianexplicit

[nativehueofresolution]

it's the way tony and chris flip the script on the whole like. protege imitating his mentor, taking his place and outgrowing him (killing him too, depending on the genre). instead tony begins to copy christopher. tony sends chris away in 5x05 on a job and he uncharacteristically starts to use cocaine for stress relief and he seriously considers getting with his nephew's fiancée - not just having sex either, he tells melfi this whole bizarre fantasy he has of marrying adriana and starting a second family with her that he'd get "right" this time. (which is also curious because tony definitely knows adriana has fertility problems, but it's not a factor in this fantasy.) when melfi asks him if he intends to act on this, he says no, firstly because of how carmela would react, and then because it would destroy the work he put with christopher "after years of grooming him", and finally because he is aware it would be viewed as incestous. but it's something tony's thought about more than casually, it's a sort of reverse freudian dream where he replaces his nephew-son and takes his place as adriana's spouse.

and adriana as a person is part of it, but when tony tells christopher he and adriana were just chatting about chris... he's trying to put him off the scent, but he's also right. they were talking about chris right before things almost turned sexual. he comes up every time tony and adriana have a conversation, even if only briefly. the appeal of adriana is tied up in her connection to christopher. (which is interesting because christopher later takes up with juliana and repeatedly expresses discomfort over the fact that she had a relationship with tony, even though they ultimately never consummated it. the pseudo-incest of sharing a partner is part of the appeal to tony, but even the vague appearance of it unnerves christopher.)

tony does almost the same thing immediately after he kills chris a season later. he sleeps with christopher's mistress - even jokingly (?) asks her if he fucks like christopher - and takes drugs with her. tony rarely does drugs during the series, but he mentions to christopher, i think in 4x09, that he used drugs a fair amount when he was younger. i think part of what going on is an age thing - recapturing youth, the power trip of replacing the guy who was supposed to replace you (even if you were the one who said he would).

but i also think it ties back into tony's anxieties expressed in 1x01 that the perfect ideals of usamerican masculinity are being lost more and more across each generation. tony feels he is a corrupted, softer, and weaker version of the men who came before him, but he thinks christopher has taken it one step further. tony used drugs as a young man but he calmed it down; christopher developed an addiction. tony goes to therapy; christopher goes to rehab. tony talks about the mob in (barely) coded language to melfi, who at least has doctor-patient confidentiality; christopher confides in jt, his friend from aa, until finally christopher says too much and has to kill him. in replacing christopher, i think tony also feels as if he can rewind the tape, stop what he sees as the erosion of manhood, and by extension the mafia - which needs those ideals in order to exist.

[smoooothoperator]

Save Your Tears

09: This Love

Driver! Mick Schumacher x opera singer! OC (Ophelia Becker)

Strangers to friends to lovers, love at first sight, long plane flight, personal drama, opera references

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: drama, confessions

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Masterlist

previous part

The heels were killing her. The dress was too tight. She was freezing.

How in hell could she let this happen? She never believed in love, always thinking that it was better to be alone than to be with bad company. After all, she never saw love, she never saw her mother be in love. She never loved someone romantically before, letting the lust and desire control her emotions and not letting her fall in love with someone.

Maybe she broke hearts, only wanting men to get laid with and not to settle down with them. It was her survival way of living, releasing stress by letting the pleasure take control of the situation.

But with him, with Mick, she started to believe that there was something. The need to touch him or kiss him was slow, not growing too fast. She wanted to enjoy every little touch he gifted her.

And now she hates it. She hates the way her heart used to beat when he held her hand, or when he kissed her temple. She hates how much she needed to be kissed that moment in the plane. She hates the way he held her that night.

Ophelia looked around, trying to recognize where she's walking through.

"Great" she groaned, looking how the blue sky started to get covered with dark clouds.

At least she is glad that the wedding was a mess after watching how Stephanie kissed Mick.

She wonders if the groom is mad at them, feeling betrayed and disappointed. They deserve it. They deserve his hate.

The first thick drops of rain fell on her hair and she sighed, trying to find a place where she could be safe from the water. But the nearest place was a bus stop. So she walked there.

She was getting cold, the dress had a midi length, making it only cover a little down her knees, and what she was wearing to cover her shoulders didn't help at all, it was too thin.

How can a day that started fine, with his soft touches, go down so fast? For a moment during the ceremony, while they couldn't stop looking at each other, she thought about telling him how she felt. How he makes her feel. 

"Stop thinking about him" she scolded herself. "Is not worth it"

Her feet are getting cold, and she started to feel shivers all over her body, making it shake violently as time passed. 

A dark idea came to her mind, something she never imagined she could experience. Why would she stay alive? The only person she truly loved is no longer here. What's the deal with being here if she can't be loved anymore? What type of punishment is that she never found true love? 

She wanted to go home. She wanted to be alone, to not get out of there. Her safe place, even if only brings her memories of her mother. She doesn't want to think about him.

So she walked out of the bus stop and walked under the rain. The material of the dress got stuck to her legs, as well as her hair got stuck to her back and shoulders. 

The idea of being ill didn't bother her, she accepted that if she wants to go home she will arrive shivering and with a fever that will make her stay in bed. Just where she wants to be.

Is this what a heartbreak is? Is this the pain you go through after someone you had feelings for squeezes your heart? How… painful and horrendous.

The pain in her body started to increase, the cold got stuck on her bones, the heels felt like a knife stabbing every inch of her feet. 

"Ophelia!"

She was having hallucinations. Who is calling her? 

"Mom?" she mumbled looking around. 

She swears that it was her mother calling her… right? Right?

"Ophelia!"

No. It's him.

"Ophelia!"

She tried to run away from him. No, she can't face him right now. But the heels were making it too hard for her to run. So she just took them off of her feet and threw them in his direction.

The ground is cold, but she doesn't care anymore. Just like Elsa from Frozen said: the cold doesn't bother her, she's used to it, assuming she will get sick. 

"Stop, please! I want to talk!" Mick sighed, grabbing her heels from the ground and running towards her again.

"But I don't want to talk with you!" she said, stopping and looking back at him. "I don't want to talk with you, you lost every right to it!"

"Then listen to me" he begged, stopping some meters away from her. 

It was too much for her. The cold, the way her heart was beating wildly inside of her chest, the way he was looking at her, the rain… She started to feel dizzy, maybe it is the cold. 

"No" she said as loud as she could.

Mick swallowed thickly. She can see how her body is trembling, how she hugs herself trying to find warmth. Her body is soaking wet because of the rain. He's scared she will get heavily sick.

"Come to the car with me, please" he sighed. "You are cold, you are going to get sick"

"Now you care about me?" she laughed. "After you kissed her? You are an asshole!"

"I didn't kiss her! She kissed me!" he said. "Ophelia please, I beg you. Come with me to the car"

"I don't want to, Mick! Leave me alone! I want to get sick. I want to die. I want to-"

"No" he frowned. "No, I refuse. I won't let you die. Why? Because your mother died? I get it, you feel sad, lost. But please, don't say those things…"

"Leave me alone. Go with Stephanie. After all, she's who you want. Go and be happy with her and forget about me"

He doesn't want Stephanie, he wants her. And hearing her say that she wants to die, it breaks his heart.

"Do you know how I feel right now?! Do you know how it feels to get your heart broken not once but twice? Do you know what it is like losing the only family you have and then losing someone because you weren’t the first choice? You don’t, right?” she groaned, wiping away the tears that were falling angrily down her cheeks. “Do you know how it feels falling for someone so fast that it’s actually scary? And then watching them kiss someone else. You hurt me, Mick! And I will never forgive you”

He looked at her with a sad smile, something that made her mad. How can he smile in a moment like that? How can he be smiling after she confessed her feelings? 

“You fell for me?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she screamed, feeling how her blood started to boil. “Seriously? You are unbelievable”

“Do you love me, Ophelia?”

That question. A simple question that in any other circumstances she would answer without getting mad, or confused, or sad. 

Does she love him? Yeah. 

Does he deserve it? No.

“No” she lied, looking away before turning around and walking away.

He let her go. He saw her walk away, taking steps that rumbled in his chest as a hammer. 

How could he let this happen? At what moment he thought that walking out of the church and talking with Stephanie was a good idea? How could he be that stupid? 

The moment he saw her walk away after Stephanie kissed her he wanted to cry, scream. How can a kiss break someone so hard? How can an old love hurt someone this bad? 

Mick only wanted to spend the day with Ophelia, looking at her during all the ceremony and then walk with her out of the church holding her hand. He wanted to be next to her during the cocktail before walking inside the restaurant, wrapping his arm around her waist and keeping her close to him, maybe proudly introducing her to some people. He wanted to place his hand on her thigh during lunch and smile and be happy sitting next to her. Maybe he would dance with her, laughing and joking trying to make her smile, and when the dance floor started to get a little less crowded, he would like to slow dance with her, hoping that he could kiss her there.

He wanted to kiss her. To seal his feelings for her. To walk somewhere and talk about the future, about their future.

Because he couldn’t help it, and while his first love was standing a few feet away from him, he started to imagine what a future next to Ophelia would look like. How he would like to discover her world and how he would like to see her discovering his world.

But those pictures created by his imagination shattered as a crystal the moment she walked away.

He felt something pulling her to the front, like a string wrapped around him that made him take a step, then another, then another. He started walking, following her. His legs moved faster and when he finally saw her again, he grabbed her arm.

"Well, I do love you!"

She flinched, stopping walking. Now that he touched her, he can feel how cold she is, how her body is trembling with shivers. Now that he sees her closer, he can see how soaked her clothes and hair are. 

It broke his heart watching her like that. 

"I don't believe you" he heard her mutter. "If you did, you wouldn't have kissed her back. If you did, you would have pushed her away"

"You know what I was thinking? I was thinking about you" he said. "When she kissed me I thought about you! Not about her. When she walked towards the aisle I only thought about you! About how I was going to hold you the entire day, kiss you at midnight. I was thinking about going back to my house and holding you again, going to the couch and fall asleep in your arms again"

She looked at him with tears in her eyes, and he wanted to kiss her in that moment. He wanted to kiss her tears away, press his lips on her cheeks and wipe away her tears. He wanted to kiss her lips, discover how they taste.

"Don't look at me like that" she mumbled. "Please, don't look at me"

"How am I looking at you?" he sighed. 

"Like you want to kiss me" she mumbled. 

"I mean, that's what I want to do" he said.

"Please Mick, leave me alone" she whispered looking away.

He shook his head and cupped her cheek with his hand, making her face him. The way she looks at him, with a mixture of fear and confusion. He hates that he made her feel that way, that he's the one that is making her have trouble in her mind.

"Look at me in the eyes and tell me that you don't feel the same way I feel" he whispered. "Tell me that you don't love me and I will leave you"

She swallowed thickly looking at him. He felt how their eyes connected, how her eyes couldn't stop the tears, how her lips parted softly and how she bit them trying to stop them from trembling.

"Mick…" she mumbled.

"Say it" he begged, rubbing his thumb on her cheek, wiping away the tears that kept falling down.

He held her hand and placed it in his chest, letting her feel his heart. A heart that beats for her.

"I…" she shook her head and looked down, sighing. "You know the answer"

"But I want to hear it, Ophelia" he whispered cupping her other cheek, feeling how he leaned on his hands. 

"It scares me" she mumbled, feeling how he was leaning closer, feeling his warm breath. "It scares me being in love"

"Why?" he asked softly. 

"Because I never experienced it before" she confessed. 

"But now you do?" 

He felt her nod in his hands, and in that moment the most important thing for him was her. The heavy rain was now ignored, the fact that his car was parked away from them was no longer in his thoughts. He already assumed that he will be sick the next day. The most important thing right now is Ophelia and the need to kiss her.

"I'm cold" she admitted, letting out a sigh full of pain. "So cold…"

"I know" he whispered, pressing his lips on her forehead. "You want to go back home?"

She nodded and sighed, looking at him. He wants to kiss her, he needs to hold her closer.

"Let's go" he sighed.

He could take off his jacket and place it on her shoulders, but it's as soaked as her clothes. The safest thing is going to the car and get warm, go home and change clothes, but she didn't move from her spot.

"Kiss me" he heard her say. "Kiss me. You thought about me when she kissed you"

He didn't waste a second more and cupped her cheeks, pressing his lips on hers.

It was like the rain started to get heavier the moment he kissed her. But it didn't matter, it didn't stop him. He's kissing her, and she's kissing him back.

She is his drug, the only way of being happy. The way her lips fitted on his, how softly she caressed his lips. He doesn't care about the texture of her lipstick or the salty taste of her tears, nor the drops of rain landing on his face and body.

 "Please take me home… I feel that I'm going to pass out" she whispered against his lips.

Mick pulled away and frowned, pressing his lips on her forehead again. She will have a fever, and for sure he will too. 

He held her hand and ran with her towards the car, and as soon as they closed the doors he turned on the heater on her seat, making sure that she could get warm.

Both of them were quiet, afraid of saying something. He heard her sneeze a few times, which made him raise the temperature of her seat and of the interior of the car. 

Mick wants to hold her hand, to feel her skin. But somehow he was a fraud that what was happening was a dream. After all, many things happened that he already thinks that it might be a product of his imagination.

"This is not a dream, right?" he whispered.

"I wish it was" she sighed. "I wish the day went how you planned it…"

He sighed nodding, holding the wheel tighter and driving towards his house. She has to take a warm shower and change her clothes. Maybe he should even turn on the heat and grab some blankets. 

Yet he can't help but think about holding her, giving her his body warmth. Kissing her and being close to her.

"Mick?" he heard her mumble. "I do love you"

He smiled and looked at her for a few seconds, holding her hand and intertwining his fingers on hers to bring it towards his lips, pressing them on her skin.

She loves him. She loves him, it's not a dream.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @lorarri @musingsbyshreya @vellicora @rileynicol3 @generalnav @kakorrhaphiphobia

[dozing-marshmallow]

Hi :3 I read your Ezekiel x reader and I was sooo happy! I wanted to ask if you could do a second part to the Ezekiel x yandere reader xP thank you and your writing is soooooo good!!!!!

Hiyaaa!💗 Thank you so much for complimenting my writing! I’m so happy to hear you enjoyed the first Ezekiel x reader! I hope you enjoy this part two!❤️

EZEKIEL X YANDERE! HOUSEWIFE! READER HEADCANONS (PART 2)

Married life was magical when you got the love of your life to think the same of you in his life.

Getting to fold all the clothes you bought for yourselves, wash and iron, drowning your nostrils in his scent.

That enchanting scent.

You keep all the hair you find of his whenever you’re changing the bedsheets or vacuuming the floors.

You devote an area of the bedroom to a shrine crafted for him, including your wedding dress and his groom suit.

You have to be selfish sometimes.

Every time he comes back home, you press your lips all over him.

Every dinner is made in accordance to what he craved for that day or week, and you always found a way to make the food spell out his name or outline his face.

You play love songs in the background. To make it more romantic, you tried burning incense once however when Ezekiel began coughing and his eyes went watery, you disposed of it right away to never use again.

For the first few days of living together, you brushed his teeth for him after being alerted that Ezekiel had no clue which direction he was meant to follow for cleaning teeth.

So you happily took it upon yourself to enforce the importance of hygiene.

Bubble baths everyday.

In turn, you got to drink his bathwater and lick his deodorant.

Lemony...

Nonetheless, you take care of his shaving for him, that being marked for.

Every evening, you would also renew your wedding vows.

"Holmes I can't lie to you...” he stretches his arms up,“But I'm a bit wiped out today. Do' think we can skip the vows today and have din dins early?"

"Skip vows today?” you gasp, couldn’t believe what you were hearing,“How do you expect me to stay sane if we skip vows any day? You know how much this means to me darling! Please? I feel terrible for asking anything of you, but can you pull through? I promise I’ll make a larger portion of supper tonight!"

Every evening.

All walls in that house is occupied by at least ten picture frames of Ezekiel.

He frequently wonders what you do for a living, since surely housekeeping wasn’t hectic enough for you to take care of majority of the bills and vacations.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about my love.” you assure him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Any day, anniversary or birthday, you arrange getaways at the expensive tourist destinations like Dubai, United States, Brazil, Kenya, Australia, England at the best hotels and best plane seats.

Whenever he falls ill, you refuse to let him do anything and confine him to the marriage bed.

At moment’s command, you are right there.

Heating pad, tissues, soup, vomit bucket, ice cream, cold water.

Ezekiel actually didn’t know what hospitals were, making him more reliant on you- or how you called it, bonding.

Knew that nursing course would pay off!

You loved being the only one he could really depend on.

But it feels that something’s missing.

Nothing about possessions or housing. You had done everything. But it’s something. Something greater than money.

It became clearer with every single turning down of Ezekiel’s suggestion about inviting his family over or going on a day trip to visit them, the one thing you refuse to grant him.

Family.

Of course. It was the thing bumping this wistful pacemaker in his behaviour.

Ezekiel... Your darling...he’s lonely.

You were both bound to be maternally and paternally deprived eventually. How you wished you were like him, whose came later.

It’s for his own good. A man and a woman is supposed to vacate their parents. Staying in touch with them would only have him getting used to seeing them and depending on them which would be more painful in the long run when they die.

Maybe now was the time to take their places, and conceive what would plant both the McLean and Miller family trees forward to see another generation.

Now?

You blush at the thought.

“I’m not so sure, bird...” your darling husband scratches the back of his neck, “When I was growing up back on the farm, my daddio was also here to raise me. If I have to go out being a rockstar everyday, the little ones might not know who their dad is. Besides, a man is needed around to raise strong children. Even the gal ones.”

“We can take turns!” you involuntarily latch yourself on top of him.

Ezekiel still hasn’t gotten used to this form of treatment, but trusts you enough to allow it,“My ma said pregnancy changed her life, eh?”

“How mine’s changed before it!” you adoringly play with a strand of his brown hair,“When I first saw you, my soul felt complete and my void was no more. I had never felt love stronger than you and now, I physically can’t survive without you.”

“Poetic, eh?” he gruffly laughs, your feelings going over him,“Not sure if that’d help in parenting, yo. Don’t wanna accidentally teach the girls it’s their world to be yappin’ in.”

Your response is a placid remark of your own femininity,“How beautiful my body is.“ an old nursery rhyme wraps your words,“Two loonies make a toonie, now aren’t I a scholar?”

Sleep well while you can, husband!

[invisiblegarters]

Micro (or not) BL Reviews

It's that time again. Seeing as how a couple of things have ended recently and I let my obsession with a certain drama sort of take over everything else of late, I dedicated this week to catching up on all the things I've been missing and doing a quick round up (or not so quick, as it's me).

So let's get started, shall we?

Recently Completed

Stay By My Side - Oh Taiwan. I just love you. I think we had like eighteen "fall into you" moments in the first three episodes alone. The premise was fun - it reminded me a lot of Master's Sun, but the execution of course is totally different. The leads were cute. The chemistry was chemistrying. I loved the sister and that basketball boys. It was mostly fluff, which I am not complaining about because I love me some fluff. That said, I don't think it did anything particularly revolutionary and it never really did manage to grab me.  7.5/10

Wedding Plan - A MAME offering, but…not bad? I mean, not great either, although I will put up with a lot for the premise because I eat shit like that up, but I've seen way worse from MAME. However, it's not going to become a guilty pleasure show like LITA or an unexpected comfort show despite myself (at least the AePete parts) like Love by Chance. It was fine.

Things I really did like:  Nuea's family and his workmates (I loved how fiercely both sets of people stood by and supported him through everything from his huge mistake in sleeping with the groom to running back home to deal with it to basically adopting Lom into the group when they worked it out ("we have a new brother in law"). The lesbians - I could have used a bit more heat but I'll take it for now. Let's work on normalizing GL in our BL (frankly I'd love it if we started doing more of that and less of the token straight couple or three)! Was a little annoyed by how they had to fix everything but I won't pretend that the bits with them in episode 6 didn't get to me - I may have teared up a little when Marine was being treated so horribly by Yiwa's mother - that whole thing was so upsetting on a number of levels. And I was happy for them that they could afford to run away to their own happy ending. Also the gag of Lom pretending to be devastated when he was anything but was kinda funny, I will give the show that. And I did like the way that Lom's mom came around - realizing with time that losing her son the same way Yiwa's mother lost her could be a very real result if she kept being rigid. I also liked that she didn't just suddenly become a PFLAG member (or whatever the equivalent would be here) but simply told her son that she would work on it, because that felt more realistic.

The show also got me with how fucking lonely it must have been for both Lom and Yiwa, to know that they were gay and that they could never say anything, and how overwhelming and relieving it must have been to find someone who understood in each other. No fucking wonder they'd do anything for each other. I would have too, if I'd had someone like that growing up.

So yeah. It was fine. I mostly had a good time, even if I got a little bored once or twice. Frankly when it comes to MAME, being a little bored is preferable to feeling like the top of my head is about to come off because I'm so annoyed. Final verdict 7/10

Jun & Jun - Korea keeps making office BLs and I will continue watching them until the end of time. Especially if they keep on serving good kiss while they do it. And this one had bonus scent kink! I honestly don't know what's gotten into Korea lately but I am very much here for it.

This was a fun little office BL.  I liked how flirty it was from the get go, the way that both Juns danced around each other with the full knowledge that they were flirting. The intern group was fun, too. I really enjoyed the boyfriend episode at the end.

Everyone was very cute in this, but Simeon was my utter favorite. He totally stole the show for me. Him and Young. Young especially was a surprise, since she drove me bonkers when she first showed up. But she grew on me. I liked how fast she decided to embrace Lee Jun, and her and Choi Jun's friendship was cute.

I shipped Simeon and Hyung Hyun Jae too. Hard.

All in all this was cute, even if it didn’t manage to grip me as hard as I hoped. Like I said before, I'm not sure what's gotten into Korea lately but I hope it continues. 8/10.

Laws of Attraction - When I first saw the trailer for this, I decided to skip it. The leads were attractive enough but to be honest it seemed kinda poorly made and like it didn't know what it was going to do with itself. And I was feeling surly and judgmental and decided that it just wasn't for me. Also it was on iQIYI and I had no interest in signing up for another subscription.

But then I saw someone had stuck it on youtube and I was bored one Saturday an there were a few eps already out, so I thought, eh, why not?

And I've not regretted it for a moment.  I loved this show so much my god. Even when OF started (and you all know how much I obsess about OF) this was still the thing I looked forward to most on Saturdays. I adored Charn and his shark smile from moment one, and that adoration did not cease throughout the entirety of the show's run. His character development was by far the best on the show, and I loved the slow, stumbling way he regained the person he used to be, while still keeping the ruthlessness of the man he allowed anger and bitterness to let him become (up to a point). I loved that the show began and ended with his shark smile, but for very different reasons. And he and Tinn were adorable.

I appreciated them banging the marriage equality drum, too, and especially Charn's very pragmatic reasons for wanting it to be legal (as a lawyer, he would think like that, and I appreciate that the show kept him in character even when he was sappy). I also loved his wedding jacket I want four.

I also loved Tinn, and I have to give credit to Jam for the way he portrayed him. While Film totally ate as Charn I do think that in some ways a character like Tinn is harder to portray, because it would be very very easy for him to become preachy because of his morality and rigid sense of justice. But Jam played him with enough nuance that he never slid into that for me - he was willing to occasionally be at least slightly underhanded when the situation called for it, and while he expected Charn to be better (and read him to filth when he caught him out lying to and manipulating him), he thankfully also seemed to understand the fine art of compromise. Plus he's really pretty. Both of them are really pretty.

But the thing that I never expected was just how hard I turned around on Thaenthai. He drove me absolutely bonkers for the first few eps, and I was loudly annoyed by the fact that after about ep three (if not sooner), it became clear that he was not the one who had hit Tonkhao but that he was being made to take the blame. It felt to me like the show wanted me to excuse how vile he was (acting like Tonkhao's death was nothing, beating the crap out of Tinn when he was already tied up and helpless, just generally acting like a spoiled, entitled, horrible shitstain of a human being) because his father beat him. And while that was horrifying and I wanted him to get the hell out of there as soon as possible I still felt that a worm is a worm is a worm, even if the worm's father happens to be worse.

But then the show went and did something I did not expect it to do: it didn't just tell us that Thaenthai was lashing out because he was caught in a desperate limbo of wanting to run away from his and wanting to please him, but it went and did the work to show it. I started turning around on him after he found out about the gardener his father used as a scapegoat once things started getting heated, because we finally got to catch him before he had time to put on his mask. And it just kept coming, because now we knew what to look for. He's still an ass for beating the shit out of Tinn when he was tied up though, lol.

Another thing I really loved that this sow did with him was show him loving his dad in spite of everything. This man beat him, nearly drowned him, let him take the blame for a murder he did, tried to kill the only person Thaenthai felt was really on his side (because I do think that the intent was always to kill Thee - I'm just not entirely sure why it didn't happen as soon as Thaenthai got on that plane. I guess because we needed a happier ending. I am not complaining), and told him to his face that he could never love him because he killed his mother, and yet Thaenthai still loved him, still wanted his attention and his respect and his love in return. And it just rang very painfully true to me. You don't stop loving your parents because they're shit, and humans for some reason tend to be wired to try harder for love that is hard to receive (or impossible, in this case).  It did not surprise me that Thaentha tried to visit his father in prison, or that he was sad when he died. But neither did it surprise me that something in him seemed looser in those scenes as well, because even though he loved his dad there's a part of him that's glad he's gone.

I love stuff like this, because it's so complicated and realistic and it hurts in a way that only something that resonates with reality can. I ate it up.

Shout out as well to Not Vorarit, because he really did a good job with Thatthep. The way he slowly unraveled as the show went on was pitch perfect, every little nuance from his first intro as the shady but possibly not *that* shady "concerned" parent right up until that last scene with Charn where he's just a cackling monster. Kudos, you created an excellently detestable character. Watching him get his comeuppance was certainly a highlight of the show for me.

I was also really into the way that Tonkhao was very much a main character despite the fact that she died so early. One of the best strengths of this show was the way that it never let us forget what started this whole thing, it showed Tinn and Grandma grieving for their little girl, talking about her, missing her. Being reminded of her around every corner. They kept her in the forefront of our minds exactly the way that they should have, and I was delighted by it.

Other fun notables are himbo ex Nawin and Rose and Maya, our GL couple that I wish had gotten a little more screen time *as* a couple but either way were fabulous. I will love this show forever for introducing Nawin in the final hour and making him such a great combination of ridiculous and ruthless. And the way they let him breathe as a character - they really just stood back and were like "look at this ridiculous man stealing the show" and it was amazing. And Rose was just - she was such a good friend to Charn the whole way through, and both her and Maya's utter delight for him when he found Tinn (and them welcoming not only him but grandma into their little family so readily) warmed my cynical heart. And I will watch Sylvie Pavida in pretty much anything, I think.

All this raving and yet I still have to go with a final score of 9/10. I recommend this show, it's way better than I thought it would be, but there are some questionable choices made, the CGI and the fight scenes are laughable (the fire at Charn's office made me laugh so hard I had to pause), and they pulled out a guitar and sang not once, but twice. And they don't even have the excuse that one of them is supposed to be a singer. Also frankly nowadays every Thai show I watch I have to ask myself "did I enjoy this more than Moonlight Chicken?" which I only gave a 9.5, and for this one, the answer was no. So 9 it is, but a highly recommended 9. This was so much fun and it will be very missed on Saturdays.

Currently Watching

Be Mine Superstar - I really do  not get why they have decided to give the doom eleventh episode to this drama. It makes such little sense from this couple, who are the least dramatic pairing possible. They should have just left the angst to Muang and the doc.

Speaking of which, I have been disappointed with that storyline. I feel like we went from nothing to boyfriends with no real development, and now that they're not boyfriends again we're supposed to care, and I just don't.

Also Title is really out here doing the most. My dude, can't you just bow the fuck out gracefully? Blergh him and the manger stuff is still really annoying. Kevin was a delight though. Even though that's one too many dudes thirsty for Ashi for my personal taste (although he is very pretty so I totally get it).

Hidden Agenda - I actually kind of loved how ridiculous the conflict between Joke and Zo wound up being. Oh sure, Pat helping Joke along was a betrayal of trust or whatever, but it just felt perfect for the kind of drama this is. I get the idea that it felt like a betrayal of trust, but I also don't really get how it was too much different from what Zo was trying to do with Nita. Whatever, I love my low stakes drama on Sundays, keep it coming Hidden Agenda.

Kiseki: Dear to Me - This show is doing what I wanted from Only Friends and giving me all the cameos. The way I yelled when I saw the two from history: make Our Days Count. I think my favorite is Ai Di - poor little ball of adoration and pettiness and jealousy. I adore him. Oh, and that scene in the spa was great - I loved how everyone was looking at everyone else while the episode's guest stars (HI, Be Loved in House I Do guys! Good to see you) side eyed the lot of 'em. Me too, my friends. Me too. They're all messy and in love with everyone else and I am here for this weird quadrangle.

The main couple has less of a chokehold on me, but I like our uptight, traumatized doctor to be. And okay, yes, it got me with his unwilling return to a solitary life after Ze Rui disappeared on him. My guess is we're gonna speed run to the imprisonment and amnesia in the synopsis, and I'm good with that. I hope the cameos continue, but even if they don't I'm really enjoying this.

Taikan Yoho / My Personal Weatherman - I saw this called live action yaoi and at first didn’t really believe it, but no. No, it really is. And I am *here* for it. I can't say it's my favorite thing airing right now but I'm enjoying it.

The Jungle - (not a BL, so I'm cheating here, ah well) I don't know who thought that what we needed was four entire episodes of Pine's manpain, but they were very wrong. At least for my money. On the bright side, August is gorgeous and Pat is killing it. The series has been uneven for me and I'm a little annoyed they apparently want to wrap up Pine's BS, Nathee and Florence, *and* address Hunter's backstory in just two eps. But eh, whatever, I was only ever really watching for the women and Mix and thankfully Hack and Irin gave me all the mess that was promised (and not really delivered on, unfortunately. Not that I wanted a bunch of assholes womanizing, but aside from freaking Pine everyone's stories wrapped up in a couple of episodes of mostly no mess at all). 

Looking Forward To

23.5 - Come on GMMTV get this thing out already I want it. I have been patient but come oooooon. I had three highly anticipated dramas for this line up and this is the only one that hasn't been released yet and I want it. Gimme my GL.

Absolute Zero (Sep 27, iQiYI)- this is gonna hurt but at least I know it going in?

The Box (Sep 22, not sure about where) - Not a BL, but looks like a good time. Plus I'm interested to see Prem in a thriller - I think he'll do well.

I am also wondering what will replace the Monday/Tuesday hole The Jungle will leave when it stops airing or if they plan to do reruns.

And apparently we're getting the GMMTV 2024 lineup in Oct this year, which seems really early but maybe I'm wrong. I didn’t actually pay attention to the 2023 lineup until way after it came out so I can’t be trusted. *whispers* please let Midnight Museum have a season two, please let Midnight Museum have a season two.

[softquietsteadylove]

Could we get a little something something from My Kingdom for a Heart fic that’s on ao3? Idc if it’s fluff or angst I’ll literally take anything you give out bc it’s just that good!!

Sersi was spinning around the floor with Ikaris, her veil whirling around her, sparkling silver against her emerald green gown. She always had a certain joy to her, of course. But even Thena had not seen her beaming so fully in all their lives together. It was exactly the kind of free, unburdened smile she had always wished for her sister.

To marry without obligation was the best gift Thena could pass on to her sister, and that included abdicating the throne as the eldest and making Sersi the acting queen. Thena had some reservations about the marriage in question being to Ikaris, but she had to admit, he was not so villainous. Annoying, perhaps, but that was a lesser of evils.

He was her brother now, and while she felt she was truly understanding the petulance a brother could bring to her life, their families - and kingdoms - were becoming one. Unfortunately, he still liked to argue with some of the advice she had to offer (as the royal advisor). But Sersi was always quick to hear out her sister, and that usually managed to pull her new husband along with her.

"It is a beautiful ball, your Grace."

Much to her disappointment, it was not the one she was expecting, but rather some lord or another. She did not know why he was saying so to her. She had not planned it alone, nor was she truly participating in it, past being the one who had walked Sersi down the aisle to her groom. "It is."

"Congratulations, to you and to the happy couple."

"Indeed," she muttered. She was no longer the princess and regent, she was merely Sersi's second in line, and that came after her job as advisor, as far as Thena was concerned.

"You look splendid as well, of course."

He was wearing on her patience, of course.

"I should almost think it possible for you to steal the attention away from the bride herself."

"My Lord," Thena drawled, keeping her eyes on her sister, "I should think that you would rather not insult my dearest sister in the process of attempting to compliment me."

"I-I-" he stammered, "I would never-"

Thena moved away from him. She no longer held the power to send people away with the flick of her wrist--truly the only part of her position she truly mourned. The crowd cheered for the guests of honour, concluding another of many dances this evening. Thena smiled.

"Your Grace!"

Was tonight destined to be a gauntlet through which she was to battle?

"Congratulations on your sister's happy marriage, your Grace," another lord bowed to her formally at least. "The kingdom could not be happier for the Prince and his bride."

Sersi would make a wonderful queen. "I shall tell them."

"It does free you, does it not?" he continued, perhaps not catching onto her locked tight posture and cold eyes. "Without expectation to marry the Prince, you are more able to select a husband of your choosing. Perhaps even a love match?"

Thena looked at the brazen lord speaking to her without end. He was younger than she had expected, his hair sitting atop his head with as much arrogance as he exuded in his smile. "Do you have a matter that concerns you, my Lord?"

"Perhaps," he grinned at her, and it made her want to take a long step back from him. He held out his hand to her, "if you would do me the honour-"

"Forgive me, my Lord, but her Grace has other obligations."

Thena's eyes rose, and she failed to contain her pleasure at the sight of her rescuer. "Captain, if you would be so kind as to escort me."

"Of course, your Grace," he smiled back at her as a gentleman would. He even removed his leather glove before offering his hand to her. He stood between her and the man asking to dance with her, turning his back - unthinkably rude! - on him in the process.

"Thank you," Thena murmured as they made their escape, descending the steps closer to the thrones and skirting around the crowd. "I can no longer decline such invitations without good reason."

"I would think that not wanting to listen to him preen himself is reason enough."

Thena attempted to keep her laughter contained, but a faint puff of air escaped her. She held the skirt of her dress in the hand that was not perched in Gil's. "You have rescued me yet again, Captain."

"It is part of my job," he stated, although the royal advisor was not technically part of his obligations as royal guard. He winked at her, "Thena."

She smiled down at the lush carpet beneath their feet. If her hands were free they would be wringing around themselves again and again. The Captain continued to have such effect on her, and her poor, suffering heart. "I keep telling you, it is not."

"And I keep telling you: you will always be Princess, to me."

How was she to think clearly when she had such poetry over her shoulder, no less whispering in her ear?

"Would you like to?"

"To what?" she looked up at him.

He nodded his head towards where Ikaris was claiming another dance with his bride, even wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the ground in their shared glee. "Dance?"

Her hand flinched in his, while the one holding her dress began squeezing it for her life. Her throat dried. "I'm afraid I have not nearly the grace my sister does, Captain."

"Come on," he whispered to her, even coming to a stop at a small gap in the crowd's observation of the bride and groom. "I thought we had a deal."

Thena's eyes darted up to him and then forward again. Her heart flitted and fluttered in her chest as she sighed, "Gil."

He stood straight, his hand behind his back and the other holding hers aloft. "It is a celebration, y'know. No one would think twice about you having a little fun at your own sister's wedding."

She could feel how warm he was next to her, even with his light chest plate over his formal uniform. Her fingers trembled faintly, but he held her steadily. "I suppose your gallantry should not go unrewarded."

She winced at herself, and her need to make the simple act of a dance something obligatory. Why could she not simply say that she did wish to dance with him?

Because that would be far too damning an admission, and far too revealing for one simple dance.

But Gilgamesh just smiled at her as he always did. He moved slowly, grasping her hand as he took the first step out from the edge of the crowd, "I'm honoured."

Thena forced herself to look up at him as he swept her onto the dance floor. It wasn't that moving with him was unfamiliar, or even awkward. It felt like when he had helped her from the wagon by lifting her delicately by the waist.

If anything, it felt too familiar, and perhaps even too...nice. He was warm, and gentle, and if he were not wearing the pauldron of his armour, she had half a mind to slip her hand up to his shoulder. His hand grasped hers out from them, the other on her back in a proper and appropriate position.

"So, have you thought about it?"

"Hm?" she blinked, betrayed by her mind wandering away from her actions and instead meandering along the subject of her dance partner.

"Marriage."

The royal advisor's cheeks took on a lively rouge as he spun them around with ease. This was not the first time they had discussed such a topic, either. And remembering the last time they had never failed to send her heart into a frenzy.

Somewhere behind them, Sersi also spun past amidst her dance with her husband. Her sister's giggling reached her ears, worsening Thena's feeling of fluster. Sersi knew very well that the subject of marriage - when it involved the Captain - always left her feeling stymied.

"I," Thena started and then paused immediately. Her mastery of language was slipping from her mind. Her eyes slid down his chestplate to the crest of the kingdom sitting right in the centre. Her hand twitched in his again, "I have...considered it."

At her own insistence, her marriage simply had to wait. As soon as she had abdicated, there was little time until Sersi's coronation and the wedding happening right on top of each other. And she and Gilgamesh were at their busiest when Sersi and Ikaris were.

There was no time to consider Gilgamesh's proposal of a proposal, as it were. And a man of his word, he had not brought it up amidst all the chaos of things. But he was asking now. As she had told him, he was asking if he could ask her again.

"And?" he prompted her gently--sweetly. He ducked his head closer to hers, moving closer in their dance to a proximity one could consider salacious. "If I were to ask you, would you say yes?"

Thena tried to keep her breathing even. She felt as if she were drowning in him, and she did not fully want to emerge from it. But she forced herself to keep her face from burying itself against his neck. "Your timing could be improved, Captain."

"Oh?" he chuckled, still in good spirits as she dodged his approach to marrying her yet again. "And how is that?"

Thena closed her eyes, trying to concentrate, and unable to do so while she thought people might be observing them acting so improperly. All she needed do was turn her head for her lips to graze his cheek or perhaps even his ear (indecent!). She gulped. "It is my sister's wedding day, Gil. This is no time for you to be asking for my hand."

"I daresay she would approve."

Sersi would be the first to jump for joy. She would also point right at Thena and say that she had said so long beforehand.

"I will not become engaged on the day of my sister's wedding," Thena resolved with a bit of a huff. "Have you no sense of propriety?"

On the contrary, it was mortifyingly she who was breaths away from pressing her forehead under his jaw just to feel the warmth of his skin.

"Forgive me, your Grace." She knew he was smirking--she just knew it. "Shall I ask again tomorrow, then?"

Thena's heart pounded. He hadn't asked in the exact words, but her whole body felt flush with warmth and thrill all the same. The warmth did not drain from her cheeks as she gripped his hand purposefully with her fingers. "I will be at the garden pond at first light. I expect you will not keep me waiting."

As she had done to him.

His hand squeezed hers, and he even dared to weave their fingers together (the absolute audacity). He tilted his head, disguising the way he touched his cheek to the top of her head, no longer weighed down by a golden circlet. "I wouldn't dream of it, Thena."