#of which it is largely hellish
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iteh3xael · 6 months ago
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@dukeofankh Hey! Queer “man” here (I’m NB but still largely pass and I like dick so… yeah?)
I have literally been the “intersectional YT man” at a private yet not PWI ~business~ (American education system is corrupt at FUCK) and discovered that, at the root of it, it’s about comfortability through palatable identity politics and
If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.
"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.
Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.
Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.
You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."
Problem with that being:
1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.
2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.
3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.
4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.
I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.
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chocochiffonnn · 2 months ago
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➸ Pairing: Boss! Park Sunghoon x Reader
➸ Word Count: 18k.
➸ Synopsis: Landing your first job at a high and well-respected corporation is a big deal. You had the skills, the knowledge, and luckily— the patience of being the secretary of an overbearing man. When things are starting to get a little smoother in navigating his demands, you were suddenly sent on a business meeting to France. And what's worse? You were going to the trip with him alone.Or basically, a story in which you navigate your true feelings in the streets of Paris, and ultimately, go home devastated.
➸ Themes: kind of enemies to lovers, work AU.
➸ Warnings: Sunghoon is mean at first, reader doesn't give in easily kind of, a bit of angst if you squint, SUGGESTIVE!!! (not comfy? leave.) i kind of also rushed the ending lol.
➸ Author's Note: HERE IT ISSSS! i hope you guys enjoy reading my second full fic on this account! this was so fun to make. as usual, reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated. tysm! ^_^
➸ Taglist: @em-asian @ikeumina @weyukinluv @mariegibeau @rairaiblog @immelissaaa @seokseokjinkim @jaehaki @saeeeee5 @areumhwang2000 @cutehoons02 @fancypeacepersona @sadgirlluvsmoney @gizellesaeriaaaa @stta-princess
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FOR YEARS ON END— INSTANT NOODLES LEFT A BITTER TASTE IN YOUR MOUTH.
‘The Combo of 3C’s’ as though you’d like to call it. Cup noodles. Canned goods. Cheap soups. Any affordable but edible dish the market had for a broke college student attempting to survive. With piles and piles of loans, an hour of sleep per day and practically being slaved off to society— somehow, through luck, you’re still alive and thriving.
Perhaps not so the same for your arteries or blood vessels practically gnawing away at the ultimately highly processed foods you ate per day, point still stands.
You’re alive and thriving, at age 23, on the way to your first job— Park Corporation.
The degree that you slaved away to landed you this huge job. This huge fucking ass job.
Which perhaps is worth the hellish four years you've spent suffering, because you've heard of this before. Scratch that, you've heard of this everywhere. Park Corporations, one of the leading companies in Korea. If not, the leading company of Korea. Known for its hefty business and sales, this corporation practically thrives in wealth and riches.
Oh, and for you to land such a job for your first time?
That much was a feat. You were not only lucky, but also skilled. It was a given by now, with the way the Rolls Royce of these employees dropped off at the ridiculously large glass walls of the company, do you realize that— class matters. And status matters.
And luckily, you took matters into your own hands prior to leaving your house. You wore pinstripe trousers paired with black kitten heels and a fitted white button up, your hair was put in a sleek ponytail, and your wrist and neck was adorned with necklaces and bracelets that shone with simplicity. An outfit that commanded attention, and an aura that screamed tenacity.
You looked as presentable as ever, no loops, no error, and no gaps in the system. Because from the years of navigating through life, you remained certain for one thing— you allowed room for no mistakes. This was your only shot in making your years at work as smooth as it could possibly be with these bigshots, and ultimately, this first day will mark the rest of your working life.
And so, you entered the company with a confident stride. Bold, brave, and daring, absolutely determined to experience the taste of anything else but instant noodles.
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The pristine walls of the facility felt dystopian.
After inquiring over at the counter, ultimately already being recognized as the newly hired employee in addition to the supposed planning department, you were redirected to an office at the fifteenth floor.
At the fifteenth fucking floor.
Now, you usually never assumed floors as the basis for employee importance, but you kind of did now. Probably a hierarchal thing that a pyramid usually is. The higher you are, the better.
The floor was busy, as in, busy, busy. Upon your presence at the elevator, some employees walked like crazy all over the place. Making calls and inquiries, group discussions over some papers—
“Excuse me, I—”
“Not now miss, the department is busy.”
“Excuse me?”
It came so suddenly, a response from a short, stubby guy who was conversing in a discussion with one of the employees. It was definitely directed at you, but you just had to make sure,
“Who are you and why are you here? Miss, questions are entertained over at the counter at the ground floor, not here—”
“Oh, I’m actually told to go here.”
“What?”
The short stubby guy halts his conversation with the other employee. Suddenly, it felt like no one was too busy anymore, it was no longer noisy. “The person at the counter told me to go here. I’m going to be the new employee.”
You emphasized the I’m part. To let him know you know your place and that you aren’t budging in like what he was visibly implying with the frown on his face. His distaste was as clear as day. “We’ve not been informed that a new employee will join this department.”
You were surprised, “Really? I was told down there this department should already know and that I’ll be directed and guided directly by the employees here.”
"Really? We should be informed about it then. Since we are not—"
"I can accompany you over at the counter to testify my response if you doubt me... Sir."
Yikes. That honorifics felt forced.
No one dared to interrupt, you hear a few gasps from some of the employees. Hell, even the short guy was stunned and once again, visibly offended. "Excuse me?"
"Or if there's a phone connecting this department with the counter, we can—"
"There is absolutely no need. I shall confirm it myself."
"... Alright." You nod, oblivious to his stomps as he walked over your direction. He stood a few steps away, eyeing you up and down, down and up. Well, that goes for your first impression here at the company. You didn’t eye him, but you stared at him in question. He looked like he was in his mid-30’s, with a mustache, bald spot, and all that.
You dared not budged, as if challenging him, telling him— No, you don’t get to say that. I know what I heard.
But he looked stubborn, so you chose not to press and silently follow his tantrum steps down to the ground floor, opting to stay a few distances away from the man.
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“Yes, she’s assigned over at the planning department, starting today.”
The registrar at the counter, as poised as ever, typing away at her laptop. She’d just confirmed what you’d heard. You looked at the man who was stunned beyond belief. “What do you mean? Don’t all newly hired employees go to—”
“Orientation? Yes, that was last week, Mr. Kim.”
Mr. Kim, huh?
You felt his blood boil, the clench on his fist tightened as his bald spot fumed like a volcano. (if that was even possible)
“No, we can’t—”
The clerk suddenly bounced to her feet, closing her laptop and disregarding the man as she left her table and scurried off. “Yah! The conversation is not yet done, Yeri—”
“The Parks have arrived!”
She— Yeri, intervenes, stomping through her heels and walking towards the entrance along with the other employees who seemed to have gotten the memo. It seemed this Mr. Kim was stunned too, following Yeri as he shouted, “What are you doing just standing there?! Line up!”
With a nod, you followed him towards the entrance and group along a couple employees chattering about the Parks in an aimless manner,
“Mr. Sungwoo has called in a meeting today for the company plans after being discharged from the hospital.”
“Really?! I hope the CEO isn’t pushing himself too hard, working shouldn’t even be an option in that state.”
“I know right?! But I guess he really loves this company and his family.”
“Speaking of family, I heard the CEO is bringing his children along.”
“You mean Park Sunghoon and Park Yeji? Gosh! I’d kill to see them in person.”
“You’d pass out in person. They’re just as beautiful and attractive as the news make them out to be!”
The Parks. A family who owned the company you are to work in. You’ve seen them before, in news and television. Headlines surrounding their reputation never faltered, neither did it bounce off to another company’s name. The Parks remained consistent, perhaps their lineage being that lucky to be blessed with business minded people who strive towards perfection. In this case, perfection in work and in looks.
Park Sungwoo— coined as the CEO of the company. It had been twelve years since he inherited the job from his father, described by the press as a worhkaholic ever since he stepped into the realm of business.
His wife, Park Soojin, though not entirely being the center of attention, was described to be just as meticulous. You don’t know much about her, though.
And as describes by the media— the golden children, per se, Park Sunghoon and Park Yeji.
Park Yeji— 18, a fashion design major. Someone who strayed away from the family inheritance, seemingly going down a path of her own with her creatives.
And Park Sunghoon, the soon to be CEO of the company. Someone sharp, quick-witted, and too prepared for his own good. He looked too stoic, too robotic. His response during interviews were concise, he barely laughed, smiled, no crinkles or smile lines were visible on his face, which made you think he must be a humanoid or something.
No one can deny the fact that the genes of the family deemed strong, though. God, they were sculpted to perfection.
The employees halted their chattering, an indicator that the family was here. All eyes pointed towards the building, the employees and guards lined up. Then, they came in.
Park Sungwoo, Park Sunghoon, and Perk Yeji in the flesh. Their prim and proper suits and perhaps million dollar shoes reverberating through the room. Hell, the cameras don’t even come close to what they look like in real life.
“Good morning!”
The employees bowed, confused, you bowed as well. You stood up, in utter awe of their presence in full sight. They walked with respect, nodding at the short greetings coming upon them. Park Sungwoo grins, so does Park Yeji. But Sunghoon doesn’t, opting to nod along as he meddled with the sleeve of his vest.
Then you see him, and he sees you.
It doesn’t matter that it was but a brief moment, it was a moment regardless.
Thus marked your first technical interaction amongst plenty with him.
And today, this one, would at most be the most peaceful one you’d have yet.
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When things don’t go according to plan, you somehow, always found a way.
Prior to working at Park Corporations, you’d always consider yourself to be someone observant and keen with details. Paired with a rather straightforward mouth and a mind that had a single goal— work for you had to be piles of paper riddled with precision and absolutely no mistakes at all.
It had been around a year of tapping your way into this industry, specifically, a department which had more or less appreciated your presence in the very room. One of who, is your co-worker, Kim Sunoo, who you became close with the moment you started working. He was quite the opposite, optimistic and bright in ever circumstances, it was like the universe circled in his head like a halo.
Navigating through the office and the workload had been easier because of his guidance, much like right now. The two of you meticulously worked on a particular paper, thoroughly scanning its premises before it was to be passed on to the next department .
“The plan is too out of reach, the budget department won’t approve of this.” Sunoo says, flipping through the papers as he ran his hand through his hair. “They won’t even consider it as an option.”
You follow, taping a sticky note with a commentary— to be returned— written on it. It was a particular Wednesday morning, the middle of the week sickness had gotten to you and you find yourself lazying away a bit more than usual. For some people, it was Monday. For you, it just had to be Wednesday.
And somehow, you just had to receive a sudden memo.
A memo which contained a direct visit from the CEO and his son himself. Supposedly, they were going through different departments for monitoring, and it was safe to say you had the privilege of being visited any minute.
“Good morning, Mr. Sungwoo! Mr. Sunghoon!”
Or perhaps, that moment was right now.
You quickly stood up, Sunoo does too, surprised at the sudden appearance. You are totally not informed it would be this soon. All of the employees bowed, a string of tension hanging in the air as they awaited the two men. Mr. Sungwoo looks around, hands on his back as he, as usual, smiled gently at his employees. And as usual, Park Sunghoon only nods.
“How is the department going on here? Any significant changes?”
Sunoo nudges you,
“Ah.”
You almost forgot. You were the department head now.
You quickly grabbed your clipboard, approaching the two men as you scanned through the contents of the compiled papers the department had been working on.
You stood a few steps away from Mr. Sungwoo, his brow raised as he awaits for your response. Mr. Sunghoon simply stares, blank written on his face. “As for the past month’s progress, the planning department has approved of five ongoing projects per department that seemed doable with the budget and premises at hand.”
You flip through a page, “this department also proposed a few projects in its own with regards to the company’s revenue.”
“And what might those be?”
Mr. Sungwoo seemed intrigued with the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself in front of him. Endless scanning through these papers and analyzing their probabilities and occurence was a routine, and by this point, you even had some of the project proposals memorized like the back of your hand.
So, when you finished proposing after what seemed like an hour, Mr. Sungwoo was stunned. Both by the preparedness, and the fact that he perhaps had to stand for half an hour listening to your yapping. The employees, albeit having the urge to sit down, listened aimlessly at the way you presented. Of course, the papers would not have been this organized if not for the fact that they too, worked hard to make it happen.
“I see everything is already under control. Who is your assistant in this department?”
You raise a brow, “Kim Sunoo, sir.”
“Do you say he works well under different circumstances?”
“… Yes, sir.”
He nods, “I’ll have my secretary get in touch with you then.”
Without another word, the two left the department office, leaving you dumbfounded and at loss for words. What in the world?
And that, officially, would mark your second interaction with Park Sunghoon.
One of the many, insufferable, ones you’d yet to encounter in the future.
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A week after, you were met with major changes in your department.
Major. Major changes. Not the— a new co-worker has transferred into your department changes— type of change. But someone is transferring,
And that someone is you.
After being called into the office of the CEO, Mr. Sungwoo tells you he finds himself in a predicament, stuck between three options. He told you he would rather have his secretary deal with the issue at hand, but given that the circumstances would require the most encouraging words with not from anyone else but himself, he opted to send you in and announce something shocking.
Shocking, as in, scary, catastrophic, dangerous, and freaking— what the actual fuck?!?— type of response. The type of shock that had even your poised ass in front of him all stumbling and hesitating. Because what the actual fuck?
These were his statements during your discussion with him:
1. Mr. Sungwoo, the CEO of one of the largest corporations is getting old.
2. He is considering to pass on his position to his son, Park Sunghoon.
3. Park Sunghoon has already trained and managed for years on end, earning him the trust from his father.
4. The following shift in agendas would require Park Sunghoon to have a secretary by his side.
5. He offered the secretary position to you.
6. He apologized beforehand.
7. He also told you some encouraging words, if that made things a little better.
The last part was comparable to a warning, a little cautionary signal that told you to stray away. You had a choice, it was to take the job or leave it.
Simply put— risk the chance for a higher pay or remain satisfied and contented with what you earn now.
And to be even more simply put— deal with the fucking consequences or abstain and repeat every office morning routine.
And you never back down for a challenge, much less, the opportunity of earning more money at that.
So what’s a little shift in schedule have to do with anything? You’re still working, and though the tides may turn differently in your field of work, it doesn’t matter.
It’s just a little risk, right?
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The first task of officially being given the title of secretary was simple, it was to accompany Park Sunghoon’s schedule each day of the week. After being dispatched and told you are the start immediately the following day, needless to say, some adjustments had to be made in the span of a few hours.
After bidding playful goodbyes with your co-workers the previous day, you urgently began to fix your schedule for tomorrow and perhaps, for the rest of this whole ordeal. You ultimately got the gist of what his schedule would be during weekdays, so that was a start. But first, it all begins with Mr. Sunghoon’s work time. The last time you’d seen him enter the building, it was a little over thirty minutes after the official call time.
8:30.
Park Sunghoon arrives. With your best foot forward, you strut towards his limousine as the guard opens the door and out came the man in full glory. Dressed in his suit, he looked as handsome as ever, bathing in his white skin. God, he looked like a vampire. A very, very hot vampire.
“Good morning, sir.”
You greet, Sunghoon briefly looks at you, raises a brow, before continuing to walk along like you had not exist.
…. Okay?
“Mr. Park, starting today, I’m going to be the secretary under your position.”
His long legs keep on walking and you try your best to keep up. “Can you stop following me?”
You were flabberghasted beyond belief. What stupid words to come out from such a terribly attractive man!
“Sir, I have to. I’m the new secretary.”
Déjà Vu much?
“I don’t need a secretary. Who put you in that position?”
“Your father, sir.”
Sunghoon stops in his tracks, sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. At this point, the two of you are already at the elevator. You somehow managed to keep up with long-legged man. “I already told my father I don’t need a secretary.” Sunghoon says, stern, decisive. Not once had he even spared a glance that lasted more than a second, but you are not one to back down.
“And your father told me sir that you very well need one before he gives you his position.”
“I don’t need one, are you deaf?”
Something in your system boils, suddenly, you find yourself clenching your jaw and balling your fist. Keep calm, keep calm. It’s only the first day.
The first freaking degradading comment ever out of million ones that’ll presumably come out of his mouth. Now, you took the hint as to why his father apologized. Now, you know why his face looked sympathetic the moment he talked to you.
It’s because his son had such a colorful way with words. In short— Park Sunghoon is rude.
And to work under someone who spouted such nonsense when all you want to do is get business straight?
He’s gotta be kidding you.
“By all means, sir. This is by the order of your father. I am not deaf, I would highly appreciate it if you don’t speak to me in such a manner.”
Sunghoon’s ears perked as the elevator door opens. You still walked alongside him, though at a much more paced and less hurried manner. “Oh? And how should I be talking to you?” He wasn’t looking at you, but you can feel a smirk gnawing away at his face.
“With respect, sir. I may only be an employee, but we should get things straight. I am here for my job, and you are rude.” You sigh, “So I would appreciate it if you cooperate a bit more and make things a little bit easier for the both of us.”
There it was, the word rude, coming straight at him in quick speed. And when Park Sunghoon stops in his tracks, you know you’ve caught him.
He turns around, raising a brow, “Rude? Me? Do you know what you sound like talking to your boss right now?”
“Okay— this argument is over with. You comply and agree that you are my boss, and I am the secretary. Clear? You said it yourself, Mr. Park.”
Needless to say, Sunghoon bit back his words. Cat got his tongue? You’ve caught a little loophole in his choice of sentences, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you somewhat satisfied. Good for him.
“Now for today’s agenda, you have a meeting in five with—”
“I know. I don’t need you telling me.”
With that, Sunghoon storms off like a little kid that had their candy taken away from them. A professional little kid. He knows you had him beat right now, and he refuses to admit it anyways.
You smiled.
You: 1 point.
Park Sunghoon: 0.
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It’s always really the moment when you least expect it.
One moment, you were a minute away from your dismissal time.
The next, Sunghoon is already in front of your desk in his office, with piles of paperwork to be encoded, sorted, and submitted by tonight. Tonight as in— in four hours time.
He was definitely doing it on purpose, with the way he grins so smugly when he saw your horrified face at the stash of documents as big as his ego. You were all powdered and cologned up, ready to finally debrief and sink into your bed, but Park Sunghoon is a menace. He isn’t letting you have all of that glory.
“I need these by tonight.” He says, you can see him fighting back a laugh. “Tonight?” You confirm. He nods not once, not twice, but thrice. Very, very, slowly too. He was taunting you, his actions made you internally rip your hair out.
You scan through the files to check their due date— for fuck’s sake! They were due the following week!
“Mr. Park, some of these are due next week,” You say, as you confirm some of the paper's dates, yet Sunghoon only nods, “I want to clear my desks and tasks as soon as possible, it’s why I need them by tonight.”
Sunghoon smiles, gently smiles. But you know better. “First day on the job secretary? I have a lot more of those.”
He then turns to leave.
You feel your anger bubble up, it was obvious he wanted to rile you up. And the worst part? It was working. You hated missed deadlines, you hated procastinating, most of all, you hated work that was beyond your schedule for that certain day.
But you refrained from shouting, the unprofessional action will immediately have you fired. Instead, you sighed ever so heavily and sat your weight down your the chair.
It looks like you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight.
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The torture didn’t stop there.
Park Sunghoon had tricks up sleeve. It had to be his talent or something— pissing you off that is.
For the first few weeks, his days consisted of everything and anything that’ll annoy any sane being and turn them into a tyrant.
For one, he refuses to drink his coffee if it isn’t a specific temperature. He keeps a thermometer lying around, every time you deliver him your morning coffee, it would have to be a specific temperature depending on his mood.
And when he doesn’t get it?
He makes you repeat it.
Two, he started stashing all of his assigned paperworks over to you when you least expect it. Given the first occurence during your first day, it was certain that Park Sunghoon was bound to do it again. And he does, every single time he felt like it.
When the day seemed to be going too well, Park Sunghoon was there to shove a mountain full of papers in front of your face.
Three, he modifies his schedule. Not just a couple of tweaks here and there, but he modifies his scheduled tasks for the whole entire week, rescheduling it in a certain day he deemed fit. And the worst part? You had to be the one to call and reach out to these schedules at hand in order to organize the schedules and tell them that Park Sunghoon has had a change of heart.
There is a fourth one, a fifth, a sixth, his tactics ranged and stretched into a hundred. And the worst part for him?
You handled it frustrated, but you handled it nonetheless. Not with ease, yet with the required professionalism and patience for the job. He’s immature that’s for sure, but it was obvious he was doing to it to spite you.
It frustrates you, but you refuse to show that to him. And it frustrates him too, yet he refuse to let you see it. So, it was a back and forth process of Sunghoon torturing you with everything, and you dealing with it in a way that it tortures him as well.
You could feel it, you could sense that he wanted to put you down from the position, to have you let go of the spot because he was too much, or too strict, or too annoying. However, you remain persistent. You were not letting Sunghoon get the best of you.
He wants his coffee at a specific temperature and keeps demanding you to make it to his liking?
Fine, you’ll reheat the coffee and burn your fingertips regardless.
He piles up his paperworks onto your shoulders?
Fine, you’ll get them done and look like a zombie the following day.
He tweaks his schedule in the most unimaginable ways possible?
Fine, you’ll deal with the hassle of the receiving end shouting at you for making sudden changes
He wasn’t going to make you leave the spot you’ve worked so hard for.
“I need these by tomorrow, have them arranged right away.” Came another pile of folders. It was a routine by now, each night, Park Sunghoon would load your table with this. At this point, your eyes were riddled with dark circles, your lips were cracked and dry from all the endless nibbling away.
You had no snarky response coming along his way, you only nodded. You were intent on finishing the task as soon as possible, every second counted. Arguing with him would simply waste a solid ten seconds.
You spent those ten seconds typing away, folding one of the finished folder, grabbing the rest of the stack for arranging. You didn’t really feel Sunghoon’s presence, but he was already behind your back. From the reflection of your desktop, you see his arms crossed.
“Sir, it’s 11 PM, you should be going home by now.”
Perhaps there was some bitterness in the tone. You don’t see it, but Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “It’s good.”
“What?”
“That—”
He points towards the file, “You work good.”
You had to cleanse your ears upon hearing what he’d just said. No way. All drowsiness from your eyes dissipated and you were left shocked, “Excuse me?”
Sunghoon coughs, “I’m going. Make sure you finish that by tonight.”
Your back was turned against him, so you don’t see him leave. You couldn’t.
Fuck. What was that?
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It goes on for a few more days.
It’s odd.
Park Sunghoon demands a redo of his coffee, not five times, but only twice now. He gives you the same amount of work, but stays behind a couple minutes to comment on your work albeit it being positive or negative. He doesn’t just leave without notice anymore. And his changes with his schedule become less frequent— all the annoying and meticulous things about it lessened.
And you don’t know whether you should be creeped out or glad.
“You have a meeting with the HR department in an hour,” Flipping through your clipboard, you step inside the elevator with him. It had currently been two months since you’ve been given the position. Physically? You already lost a couple of pounds due to skipping meals and staying up late from Park Sunghoon’s orders. Mentally? It felt like your mind was suffering from intense drought.
Financially? You were doing great. Better than great. You were sustaining more than enough, even having left over money to spend on new work clothes. The job was brutal, but it had you elevating from your old economic status.
You ticked one of the box from the checklist, Sunghoon does not respond. No snarky comments, no barking back. He just nods. “Not much schedule for this afternoon. Your father requests for your presence at dinner, sir.”
“Who else is included?” Sunghoon asks, you quirk a brow, “Family dinner, sir. So expect your family to be there.”
You almost missed it, the way Sunghoon’s jaw clenched and the way his teeth gritted. “Cancel it, tell father I can’t come.”
“You can’t miss out sir, your father’s been noticing your absence in plenty of the family dinner arrangements.”
“I said to cancel the damn plan.”
He seethes, perhaps with more weight and force than intended. Surprised, you stumble on your own words, “Ah— Alright, I’ll contact your father and see what I can do.”
The weight of the air lingered on your part, perhaps on Sunghoon’s too. He sighs after a few seconds, twisting his head to the side. “Sorry. I just don’t want to be attending any family stuff right now.”
“I understand.”
You nod, taking a quick note to once again, earn a handful of scolding from his father. The words that should be directed to Sunghoon himself pointed towards his secretary instead. When his father harbors some scoldings for his son, it goes to you most of the time.
Still, this matter must be something that Sunghoon deemed to be untouchable. A sensitive topic on his part, so you don’t push.
For the rest of the budding morning and afternoon, Sunghoon attended to the rest of his tasks and agendas.
Until night eventually came and you prepared yourself for another set of hefty tasks from him.
Yet none came.
7:50 PM.
Ten minutes before his official dismissal, Sunghoon usually gives his tasks a minute late, so you had to keep your guard up.
But nothing came. All you see is Sunghoon coming out of his office, wearing his long coat as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of it. You observed his actions, the way he closed the door, he walked— he carried no papers at all.
“Sir, the files?” You ask him, expectant. Sunghoon looks over your direction, he thinks for a moment before he eventually spoke, “Go home early tonight. There is none.”
You blinked. Once, twice, thrice. The fingers that had flexed towards the keyboard, sharp and stretched, ready for the long hours of exhaustion. Eventually, Sunghoon noticed your absent-mindedness as his brow rose. “I said there’s none, you can go home now.”
You must definitely be hearing things. You slap your head lightly, shaking it and blinking your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming. You aren’t.
Park Sunghoon— your absolute menace of a boss finally lets you out early for the first time?
What a fucking steal!
Something must be terribly wrong or disoriented with the universe right now with the way he is acting.
But you’d be a little idiotic not to harness this once in a lifetime opportunity. Thus with an enthusiastic jump from your seat, you quickly fixed your table— absolutely ready to go home and feast on one of your latest series.
Sunghoon merely watches you as you hurriedly pack up. In your defense, you had to or else something might shift his mood and might make you stay even longer. Once done, you strapped your bag in your shoulder.
Sunghoon stands a few distances away, a smug grin tugging at his face, “That excited?” He says. You nod, “I’m going home relatively early for the first time, I have to go before you change your mind.”
Sunghoon chuckles— actually chuckles. Even the heavens blessed him with such a beautiful chuckle, it was actually insane. You start to walk towards the door, so does Sunghoon. It wasn’t of much attention before, but now, the height difference between the two of you is very prominent.
His broad sculpted shoulders made little to no effort to humble your frame that was smaller than him. He could pass as a model, in all honesty. What most people fail to realize however, are the moles that fainted his face much like a signature on an official piece of paper.
The way down was unimaginably quite, the sound of the night coming in full play. The sky was already dark, still, you had to take a bus on the way home. The elevator of the ground floor opens, but before you can even fathom, much less go out, Sunghoon presses the close button and immediately hits the basement.
“Um, sir, I don’t—”
“I know.”
“Then why—”
“I’m offering you a free ride.”
He’s offering a what now?
“I can—”
“It’s already late and dangerous. Relax, I won’t kill you.”
Once the elevator opens at the basement, he steps forward and walks ahead. You merely followed, surprised by the sudden offer.
He won’t kill you but he’ll probably leave you the middle of nowehere, right?
“I’m not dropping you in the middle of nowhere.”
“Oh.”
You nod, embarrassed that he could read your thoughts. The two of you reached his car, his watchamacallit model whatever car that probably costs your whole entire organ system or existence. He opens the car door on the left, “Sir, are you sure?”
You ask one last time. “No, just rot there.”
And so you do. You stand there, albeit almost holding the car door. You swiftly let go and stay in place. What an ass.
Sunghoon starts his car, reaching over for the mirror on your side and rolling it down. “What? You’re actually gonna stand there?”
You nod. “That’s what you said.”
“What?” Sunghoon scoffs, eyeing you from inside the car. He pokes his cheek with his tongue, tilting his head ever so slightly, “Get inside, I can’t believe you took that seriously."
“Of course I will.” You mumble under your breath, opening the car door and getting inside his pristine car. The scent came wafting in, the strong particular odor tingling down your senses. The one he always used at work, the scent you’ve come to memorize every time you walked beside him. Similar to laundry detergent, soapy, airy— something so clean and fresh.
Somehow, the scent suited him.
Sunghoon puts his hand on the wheel, you weren’t very familiar with the mechanics of driving, but hell was he good at it. He looked back, placing his left hand on the handbrake.
Oh wow.
“Just tell me the directions.” Sunghoon says, oblivious to the way you gawk at the way he drives. You nod, clutching your hands together and keeping your eyes forward. On the road, on the fucking road, goddamit!
“While I’m um—” The silence was killing you. “I’m here, I’ll discuss your schedule for tomorrow.” You opened your phone, having a copy of everything in every device always had its perks.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Sunghoon begins, from your peripheral vision, you see his mouth twitch upward as he attempted to stiffle in a laugh. “What?”
“When does your working spirit turn off?”
“What do you mean?”
He spares a glance, “I mean, you’re always working. And doing— that.” He points towards your phone. With a shrug, you correct one of the typos from the schedule. “Are you not like that, sir?”
“Why would I be?”
It came off a little surprising on your part, “You look like you’d be the all work no play type of person, you know.”
“That’s rather offensive.”
Realizing what you’d just said, you quickly refute and panic. “I’m sorry, it’s not like that! It’s just—”
“No, I get what you mean.” Sunghoon cuts off with a laugh, grazing the side of his temple with his finger as his elbow came to rest on the elevation of the door. “That’s what most people assume.”
“That you’re a workaholic?”
“No, that I’m full of seriousness and that I never have fun.”
You mumble beneath your breath, “anyone would see that, just look at your face.”
“Really? What does my face look like?” At this point, Sunghoon already released a chuckle. “You always look so serious.” You blatantly say.
Anyone but him would notice that, of course. When Park Sunghoon walked, it was always so poised and controlled, aside from his actions looking so robotic on your end, his face always contorted to that of a frown or a monotonous face whenever and wherever. It was like his program consisted of two emotions only.
���And your face is always like this—” You turn to him, copying one of his signature faces from your perspective. “Or this.” came another pose.
Sunghoon smirks, twitching his head to the side. “So they say.”
“So you are aware.” you sigh, “What do you think about it?”
“About what?”
“When people talk about that.”
“Me? Well, I could say I’m flattered."
You laugh, unknowing he was capable of making such a joke. Unless, it was actually not a joke and he was geniune about it. “What about the negative side of it?”
Sunghoon ponders, keeping his mouth shut for a minute. He lazily taps the wheel with his fingers before he spoke, “I don’t necessarily mind,”
“Besides, it’s not like I’m here to be pleasing people.”
You nod, gauging in his words and his feelings. So that’s why. His world always seemed so enclosed from a vision, so isolated despite being showered with public affection by those who admired him online. He isn’t here to frolic around and make people like him. He’s just him, there’s nothing more, nothing less to it.
“You go to the left after this.” His car turns left, eventually, you reach the door of your house and you tell him to stop.
“Thank you for the ride, sir.” You tell him once his car settled down in front of your home. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you turn to Sunghoon who had an unreadable expression on his face.
“I’m going now.” But you don’t move. Sunghoon too, remains still.
Then, you open the car door and bid farewell.
But before you had a chance to close it, he spoke, “Goodnight.”
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Something’s definitely shifted.
The air, the atmosphere, the place, the person, whatever it may possibly be— something’s definitely changed. The number one rule when it came to businesses like these is to allow things to remain unspoken, to let things linger in the tense air.
It wasn’t a crime to be observing such a change It was however, forbidden to mention it.
You don’t mention it but you take note of it.
The way Sunghoon doesn’t even ask for a redo of his coffee now, drinking it as it is despite the temperature being different. The way he follows his schedule more diligently with less changes. The way he— instead of leaving his paperworks with you, does it himself.
The way he’s become a little bit more gentler with words and in actions.
The way it affects you in such a way that it has you confused, terrified, and loving it at the same time.
You tell yourself it’s just a shift in his attitude.
You tell yourself that he’s just being nice.
You tell yourself that it is nothing.
Because it’s definitely nothing, right?
“I’m done.”
It was Sunghoon, opening the door from his office and entering yours. It was past 8PM, you worked a little later given the fact that there are more tasks than usual.
Or you could just be looking for an excuse.
“I’m having a bit of a hard time with this.” You say, despite not seeing Sunghoon as your desktop blocked your vision. The mouse has you frustrated, refusing to cooperate and going all over the place on your screen.
Sunghoon was already behind you, presence inching even closer.
Until his chest made slight contact with your head, his left hand balancing himself on your table, and his right one making contact with something.
The said something being your hand.
Or the mouse.
Or the mouse that had your hand placed on top of it.
He has you trapped, seemingly unfazed and unbothered as he guides your hand— or the mouse very gently. “Hmm?” He quips, “It’s working just fine, you need to be gentle with your mouse.”
And you let him. You let him drag the picture you were doing just seconds prior, you let him cage you in his arms despite him not being aware of it, you let his chest warm the back of your head ever so slightly. And once again, the smell of his clean perfume engulfed your nose and suffocated you in a way nothing else had.
Fuck.
“Thank you.” You mumble, straightening your posture in order to look large, to feel large. Sunghoon pulls away from the contact, crossing his arms. “Don’t be so harsh with your mouse.” He teases.
You huff, clicking or typing away to calm your beating heart. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“It was lagging earlier, I swear.” You try and reason out, but Sunghoon only chuckles at your response. “… Right.”
“Are you not going to go home, sir?” You shift the topic, still not facing him as you busied away. “No, not yet.”
Then you hear something shifts, like a chair being moved.
“I’m waiting for you.”
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Come Monday, and every shocking news washed down again.
After spending lunch with Sunoo and some of your old officemates, you went back to your office to resume your work. What greeted you isn’t that of paperworks, but with Sunghoon’s note saying— ‘come report to my office after lunch.’
And so here you are, in front of your boss, absolutely appalled at his sudden announcement.
“I know it’s sudden but—” Sunghoon pinches the bridge of his nose. It seemed even he too, was surprised. “Father said the notice came upon late and this matter cannot be missed upon by the company.”
The said matter being an official business gathering of different companies around the world for some nepotism, trades, or connections nonsense.
The schedule is tomorrow— in France.
“I don’t know if—”
“The company will shoulder the expenses if that’s what you’re worried about.” Sunghoon quickly cuts off.
“No, I mean, a passport. I don’t have—”
”The matter can be arranged quickly.”
“But what about—”
“If this is about the stay, the business, the preparations, father has already told me it’s been dealt with.”
What about his consent?
“Are you okay with me coming?” It shouldn’t be something you are to be asking, given you are his secretary and you’re practically attached to his hip most days of the week. Still, Sunghoon was a man who kept his walls up high. At this, he simply raises a brow, “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re my secretary.”
Some odd feeling tickled your stomach, “Of course. I’ll just— I’ll prepare for what’s to come ahead tomorrow. Is there something I should be noted of?”
Sunghoon shook his head, “Not that I know of, we’ll be dealing with such stuff tomorrow.”
You nod, briefly bidding goodbye once the conversation was over and leaving his room. God forbid something normal happens once in a while in your life.
You dramatically slid down the door, hoping he wouldn’t open it so suddenly.
“What a way to go overseas…”
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You don’t know what’s worse, the overbearing press breathing down your neck and following Sunghoon everywhere he goes, or the fact that you discovered for the first time you had extreme flying fears. (Not that you went on an airplane before to test it out.)
Cameras and mics kept their distance, but still, they were there and ready to tackle Sunghoon with questions. Yet, the man remained calm and composed, walking in his normal pace as you followed behind him.
It was the first time you saw him in a not so formal attire, opting to wear a v-neck sweater and dress pants paired with some loafers. People would assume he’s a model and not some extremely snobby boss who orders his secretary around.
You also dressed yourself in something casual. But, attention to outfits were not really much of your interest given that your stomach was churning and your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your chest. Literally.
You tried to keep yourself composed. Keyword— tried. It seems you were doing a pretty good job at it, given that Sunghoon still had the nerve to order you to get him some coffee.
“Same temperature, sir? And black coffee?” You stuffed down the puke, you weren’t even in the plane yet!
Sughoon shrugs as he busied on his surroundings, hoping no journalists come near him. “Black coffee, any temperature is fine.”
You nodded and scurried off in search for his coffee, and a bathroom, too.
Minutes later, in search of Sunghoon, you find him in a corner of the airport, sitting idly and tapping away at his computer. He was already working and you hadn’t even left the country yet. After getting his coffee (and ultimately puking away to your heart’s content) you neared him and handed the coffee.
“What took you so long?” He says, the disappearance having been longer than expected. You quickly cover it up, “Oh, the line was long.” Lies.
If Sunghoon notices, he doesn’t seem to pry into it any further as an announcement for the next flight was made. Quickly, the two of you headed towards your board with luggages and bags in hand. Sunghoon had a small luggage, perhaps opting to buy the things he needed there— some decisions stupidly rich people do.
Puking it away doesn’t necessarily mean you’d have the pass of not feeling the terrible sensation again. So, once you were at the seat of your ridiculuously expensive private class seat, you stayed silent, your saliva tasting saltier than usual and your head feeling slightly lighter.
At least you’ll puke in a rather private place.
The plane was cold. While you tried your best to just be sane for a few minutes. After getting to your assigned seats, your leg jitters became inevitable. This, Park Sunghoon noticed.
“Are you nervous or something?” He asks, a geniune question. You quickly deny, “No. Why would I be?” Lies.
He nods hesitantly, but you weren’t stopping! Eventually, the plane announced its departure, the flight attendant announcing some rules and regulations. With sweaty palms and a salivating mouth, you clenched yourself together and prepared for the worst.
“Here.” Sunghoon hands you something, you look over. It was a piece of menthol candy. “Eat it, if you feel sick or something.” You thanked him, taking the piece of candy and popping it into your mouth.
He tells you to close your eyes, and you do.
He tells you to open your palms, and you do.
And then, his fingers intertwined with yours.
And then, his thumb rumbs the back of your hands ever so gently.
And then you quickly shot your eyes open, almost puking out the candy he gave. “W-what— Sir—”
“My mother used to do this to me as a child when I got plane sick.” He intervenes too quickly, “Don’t get me wrong. It looked like you were about to puke on me or something.”
But he doesn’t look at you, simply looking out the window as his right hand nestled his head.
What was he thinking?
You nod, reminiscing of that moment at the office when his hands guided you.
You tell yourself its nothing, because it’s definitely nothing.
He’s your boss, and you’re his employee.
But why does his hand feel so soft? Why are his fingertips so gentle and meek?
It’s definitely nothing.
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By some odd miracle the gods have graced you with, the sickness of yours has gone astray.
Perhaps it was because of the fact that you already remain aware and predicted of how an airplane actually pilots, or perhaps it was because of the fact that his hands are like— there. For a solid hour, his hand remained still on top of yours. Nervous, yes. But he was certain.
Only then does Park Sunghoon lift his hand up when the flight attendant offers some of the meals, opting to point something at the menu and putting his hand back in its respective place— his lap. You’d wish it was your hand, though.
The meal eventually arrives after the two of you order, and with but the smallest appetite and the feeling of sickness, you politely refused.
“You didn’t have breakfast.” He says, pushing the plate just a little farther on your end. You shook your head, “I was feeling a little sick.”
“You still are?” He asks, you nod. “I might end up puking the food if I force it down.” Park Sunghoon nods, taking a bit of his food. “Alright, suit—”
Grumble.
“Ah…”
“I told you to eat.” He says, not even halfway through chewing yet as his took your utensils and pried it into your hands. “You’ll definitely throw up if you don’t eat something.”
“Wow, father like much?” You quip, eventually giving in and taking the smallest bite of the food. Sunghoon scoffs, ”I don’t want you throwing up all over me.”
But hidden beneath his voice, was concern and that of amusement.
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After hours of shifting, eating, sleeping, and keeping yourself company, arrival finally dawned early in the morning sun.
It was 9AM in the morning, leaving the plane had felt like a glory, and going to the airport of a different country felt much too surreal.
You are in France now.
The city of love.
With your boss.
Which, shouldn’t be a big deal, it really shouldn’t.
You were here for business, he was here to boost the status of the company.
But business can be interchangeable with many things.
“The hotel we’ll be staying at is the same venue for the gathering.”
The said hotel was at The Saint James Paris, located somewhere around Paris.
At this point, the two of you are already at the car of one of his recognized drivers around France. You sat at the back seat, he sat at the front. It felt a little bit weird to be greeted with such announcements from him, given the fact that it was technically your job when it comes to venus and such.
Still, you nod, grateful for the preparation. “What time does the event start?”
“8PM. We’ll have plenty of time to get some business done.”
You take upon his suggestions, “Perfect, there are some matters over at the company that—”
“Or, I have a better idea.” You see Sunghoon peek over at his rearview mirror, the smallest glint of of mischief tainting his eyes. “We’re going around town.”
“What? But—”
“Hmm?”
Sunghoon looks back, his gaze challenging you— daring you to say something more. But you keep your mouth shut, afraid of the consequences he’ll reply with.
“Nothing.”
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“Okay, a room would more or less cost me my salary in ten year’s time.”
It came off as a joke, but you were deadly serious. This— The Saint James Paris hotel thing was no joke. It wasn’t anything, it was quite literally, and ultimately everything you’ve ever dreamed of. It was like something out of movie set— like the Palace of Versailles and that Marie Antoinette could appear any minute.
It was the epitome of grandeur and elegance, nestling away from the bustling streets of Paris, but being located in the same city regardless. It screamed French nobility, the tapestry and furnitures of the just lobby itself screaming with gold and ornaments like no other.
It looked timeless and that of aristocratic luxury. Frankly speaking, it was beautiful, and quite literally, beyond imagination.
Sunghoon laughs as you obnoxiously gaped at the opulent fabrics that wrapped around your gentle and soft bed. Over to your right, was a private terrace that overlooked the garden down below.
“This is so breathtaking…” You mumble more so to yourself, Sunghoon leans against your door as his arms were crossed. He found it amusing you find such a place to be so magical, when for him, it was like any other.
The little sparkles in your eyes made soft crinkles appear in his eyes, and a little something jitter in his stomach.
“I don’t know how I’ll repay you for this—”
“I told you, it’s the company’s.” Sunghoon intervenes. “But it’s too—”
“It’s nice, yeah?”
He enters your room, fingers tracing the gold, silky curtains that entailed the head of your bed. Sunghoon’s room was right beside yours, with the same features adorning the very place. “It’s too fancy.” You say truthfully, feeling a bit cautious now.
He shrugs, “It’s nothing compared to what you’ll see later.”
You nod eventually, and after a few more discussions as to what the gathering will entail later, Sunghoon eventually leaves the room and asks to meet you in a few minutes.
And due to exhaustion and surprise, you plopped down on the bed with a heavy sigh.
“I seriously can’t believe this…”
Experiencing such luxury had never been part of your bucket list. You used to ask for a proper meal before, now, it felt like you were getting a buffet. Might as well make the most of it.
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Paris was a bit colder than you’d expect it to be.
The afternoon breeze hit you in a swift motion, light as a feather, smooth as silk. You changed your attire, opting to wear layers that matched the weather without it being too suffocating. Eventually, someone knocks at your door and you went to open it.
It was Sunghoon, greeting you with a curt nod and a raise of his brow. He too, had the same thought and outfit in a mind. Dressed in all black, and warm layers. Regardless of what he did or wore— he always looked attractive and neat it drove you insane.
“Ready to go?” He asks, “Are you sure we don’t have any paperworks left to catch up on this—”
“Not right now, no.”
You laugh, “It looks like I’m not budging, sir.”
Sunghoon pauses momentarily, biting the bottom of his lip. Then he says, “Sunghoon. It’s Sunghoon.”
You tilt your head to the side. “Sir?”
Sunghoon coughs, eyes drifting away, “You can refrain from calling me sir outside of work.”
“Oh—” You nod, surprised, “Okay, um—”
“Sunghoon. Yeah. Sunghoon, let’s go?”
His name rolling off your tongue felt so natural and unique.
God, you could get used to it.
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“Roses just seem a little too typical, but it’s fitting and romantic.”
You’ve always been a little bit of a flower enthusiast. Not necessarily obsessed or knowledgeable with all of them per se, but flowers in general attracted your eyes in such a way.
Walking along the streets of Paris after being dropped off, you realize that the abundance in flowers was definitely noticeable. By some luck, there were small booths and stands selling boquets, or single flowers such as lillies, peonies, daffodils, and anything alike.
It was like a small little world of colorful rainbows that had you in total awe.
And Paris being the city of love, well— it really made things all the more suiting.
“Oh, but look—” You point towards a rose, it’s colorful, red hues in full display. But aside from its red color, it was also painted with a bit of white. It was a two-toned rose, a rather odd one. “This one’s pretty.” You mumble, gently touching its petals.
Sunghoon stood behind you, hands in his pockets. “That looks rare.” He comments.
You nod, “Probably not, but it’s the first time I’m seeing something like this.” From the corner of your eyes, you see the shop owner near your figure.
It was an old woman, with a cute flower apron hanging from her waist. Her smile reached her eyes as she speaks something in French you couldn’t quite fathom,
“Oh! Quel beau jeune couple! Vous êtes ici pour acheter des fleurs?”
“Oh! Um—” You should have taken some French lessons on the way here. But Sunghoon quickly cuts in,
“Oui, lui recommanderiez-vous quelque chose qu'elle aimerait?”
You gesture to Sunghoon with your eyes— what are you talking about?
He looks at you and asks, “What’s your favorite flower?”
You ponder over it for a moment, scanning each and every flower that lined up. Eventually, you spoke, “Lilies. I like Lilies.”
Sunghoon nods, turning her attention towards the old woman.
“Puis-je avoir un bouquet de lys, s'il vous plaît, madame?”
Immediately, you got a bit of the hint. “Hey! No, we don’t have to buy flowers, it’s okay—”
The old woman smiles, “Un bouquet de lys pour la belle femme c'est!” She then disappears off to the inside of her booth, and you turn to Sunghoon with a small grin. “You speak French?”
He shrugs, “Something you pick up in years of business.” You nod, amazed at the particular talent and capabilities of him, it was a side you never knew until now. And frankly speaking, Sunghoon speaking French was something you never you knew you needed. It came off so naturally and so smooth.
“What did you guys talk about?”
“Oh, she just asked me what flower you’d like.” He says, but with the way his tone lulled off, it felt like there was something more he wasn’t telling. Still, you only nodded.
“Thank you, I’ll pay for it.”
The old woman eventually comes back, a small boquet of lilies in her arma. It was adorned with small flowers and leaves, wrapped in white and gold, contrasting its pink hues. The old woman hands the boquet to Sunghoon, giving the two of you a warm smile.
“Beau jeune couple! Des lys pour une relation prospère.” Sunghoon fished his wallet from his pocket, paying the old woman for the boquet before you even had the chance to speak.
“Merci.”
“That’s like the the only part I understand.” You chuckle, thanking the old woman with a bow. Sunghoon then hands you the flower, an unreadable expression on his face. It was then that you noticed the pink flush on his cheeks, perhaps from the reflection of the lilies or the cold, or he was blushing. It made him look cute.
Daintly, you took the boquet from his hands, “I’ll pay you—”
“It’s on me.” He quickly says. You simply stare at the fresh boquet within your fingertips, etching the memory into your mind. Then, you neared the flowers and took a waft of its scent. “It’s really lovely.“
You fight back the urge to throw the stupid grin on your face, but everything just felt so wonderful that you had to smile ever so widely. Sunghoon too, grinned at the expression your face. He liked you seeing like this, away from the stoic and strict face you always had at work (thought he was not one to talk).
Like whispers of grace, your lips coming into contact with the blooming petals. Beauty remained subtle in his eyes, but with you, it felt like every feature stood out in every way possible. It almost escaped him, the way he keeps his eyes glued to your face that was so appreciative of something so simple and small. And even if it does come of notice, he doesn’t acknowledge it or say it out loud.
Sunghoon felt like he was testing the waters, and it felt just right.
The two of you continued your walk around the city, a boquet in hand, and more sights to see in front of you. Eventually, upon walking and passing through the flower stalls, came next were the souvenirs.
Stalls of different pieces, ornaments, pieces, tapestries, figurines— each and every stall decorated with items that caught your attention and represented the city with simplicity. With Sunghoon straying a little bit behind, you neared one vintage stall, a particular item catching your interest.
It was a polaroid camera, the rare vintage kind that had its body wrapped in brown leather. It was displayed at a particular stand, so you neared it and ask the owner if it was still functioning. After confirmation, you asked for its price, and through Sunghoon’s translation, you came to know that the price was not worth bargaining or thinking over.
So you bought it after testing.
You took a particular picture of your boots first, anticipating the results of the camera. Once you’d gotten the printed film, you grinned like a child and wholeheartedly showed it so Sunghoon, “This is such a nice steal for a camera!” You argue, taking a picture of yourself afterwards despite it feeling a little bit awkward. The picture came off as a little bit funny, seeing as your eyes squinted and your angle was lower than it should be, giving that impression of a double chin.
Sunghoon chuckles at your picture, “I’ll take a picture of you.”
Sunghoon reaches for the camera, but the shop owner noticed this and offered to take a picture of the two of you instead. Reluctantly, Sunghoon hands him the camera and you settle yourself beside him. A friendly, casual photo, is what you had in mind. But when the owner shouts, “Tiens-la par l'épaule!”, you see beads of sweat droop down from Sunghoon’s forehead.
“What did she say?”
“She said to hold you by the shoulder.”
“Oh.” You nod very slowly, feeling the heat creep up your cheeks. “Go ahead.”
“Are you sure?” He asks, you nod more certainly this time, allowing his fingertips to snake upon your shoulders. He grips the blade of it with gentle care. Then, the owner shouts to smile. So you do, you smile with Sunghoon’s hands on your shoulder, you smile with your arms touching his.
And when the picture gets taken and the film gets produced in the black and white piece, a benign grin escapes from your lips. At this moment, it didn’t feel like Sunghoon was your boss. If you were to ask anyone about the person beside you at this picture, they’d undoubtedly say he was your boyfriend.
But he isn’t, he was your boss. And that’s what’s wrong about it.
You hum beneath your breath, appreciating the moment as it unfolds in front of you.
Sunghoon isn’t your boss right now. You’d think of it like that.
“It’s nice.” He compliments, eyes nodding towards the picture. Sunghoon, the man of very little compliments. “It’s so beautiful! I like the way your eyes kind of crinkle when you smile.” And you, the ever so generous compliment giver.
“You should do that more often.”
“Do what?”
“Smile. It looks pretty on you, suits you way better.”
Through the slight flushed cheeks of Park Sunghoon
Through the slight flushed cheeks of Park Sunghoon, he mumbles something. “Tch.”
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Endless walking around the different stalls eventually led to the two of you becoming parched and exhausted. After a mutual agreement of going back to the hotel room after checking the time, the next unexpected destination of yours was surprisingly a small cafe as you waited for the car to drive you back to the hotel.
Sunghoon didn’t want to get coffee, had you not insisted. You wanted to pay him back for the kind gesture of the boquet. Thus, here you were, in front of the counter of a tiny but dainty coffee shop just across the lined up stalls, ensuring that the barista gets Sunghoon’s order correct.
“Yes, I’m sorry for such an odd request.” You pull off your best friendly smile, trying to coax the barista into brewing the coffee at a specific temperature. To your luck, she spoke English and was nice enough to take on your inquiry.
Sunghoon sat in one of the white chairs, after much insisting that he sat down and wait for his coffee. One of his legs were crossed over the other, his gaze was through the window outside. “What’re you thinking of?”
Sunghoon looks over your direction, pressing his lips into a thin line. “The corporate event later.”
“What about it?” He shrugs, “Father is expecting the best out of me from this. I have to do well and carry the company’s name in my back. Of course, he will no longer be here to guide me amongst these businessmen.” Sunghoon looks at the ground, “It’s odd, it makes me feel a bit terrified. Not that I acknowledge that.”
You nod slowly, feeling the burden of Sunghoon’s words creep upon you. At the rip age of fifteen, according to articles, Sunghoon had been on the path on following his father’s footsteps— to be the next successor to the Park Corporation. Now that he was 25, the pressure he felt upon his shoulders must be more than ever.
With but one of the biggest companies on his back, he represents it in front of thousands more. He carries the weight of Park Corporations and it must be heavy to bear. He hides it well.
“I want to do well, not only for him, but for the company as well. Does that make sense?”
You nod, thanking the barista once the hot coffees had reached your table. “Specific temperature, just how you like it.” Sunghoon grins at your attention to detail. You continue, “It does, it must weigh a ton.”
Sunghoon doesn’t respond to your answer.
“But you know… Sunghoon, you’ve always done well.” You sip your hot latte, its hot sensation seeping your throat, “In anything you do, it’s like, I’ve always thought of you as a robot or something.”
He almost chokes on his coffee. “Really? Why’s that?”
You laugh, “Not in a rude way. Just… You know, someone who has this specific program of being very much a workaholic.”
“You’re one to talk.” He smirks and you retaliate, “Hey! I’m a workaholic because society forced me to.” With a heavy sigh, you lean back on your comfortable chair. “If given the money and privilege, I’d probably be bathing in gold and refusing to work right about now.”
Then, you fumble with your coffee cup, feeling the matter go a bit more sensitive and harder to spit out on your end. This was a story you’ve told your friends plenty of times, the tale even coming off as a joke and a laugh of your pitying situation. But, in front of Sunghoon, you find yourself vulnerable and open. It was different, it was scary.
“That is, if given the choice. Contrary to you—” You point to him, “You’re given that choice.”
Sunghoon pretends to feign hurt, clenching his heart with a slight sigh. You chuckle, “And yet what? You choose to work and make your father, make the company proud. I think that’s like, a huge, unimaginable feat. I think… The fact that you’re here now and making a name for yourself in the realm of business where everyone is a predator its just— it’s really amazing.”
“Not really, anyone can do it.”
“Yeah, but, not everyone has the guts to step in. You could be bathing in gold right about now too.” Sunghoon geniunely laughs, the fangs of his teeth showing ever so slightly. From this angle, you glance at the way his black hair is slightly tousled, the way those fangs of his are taking a peek, and the way his nose looked sharper and more refined.
It was odd, how you found the sudden urge to kiss him.
“I guess that makes sense. It's good I didn't choose to be bathing in a gold then, yeah?”
You shook your head, “Why?”
“How would I have met you otherwise?”
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You wanted to bang yourself against a wall.
Like, jump in front of a cliff or like do something stupid.
Usually, your work outfits would consts of heels, slacks, blouse, and a blazer. Note— slacks or pants.
Now, you find yourself wearing a black maxi dress, your bare shoulders exposed, the cleavage of your beeast slightly peeking out. What’s even worse is that it was fitted. Fucking fitted! It quiet literally hugged your curves and your butt.
“I look delicious though…”
You say to yourself, doing a bit of twirling around and flicking your hair in the most dramatic manner. But you still wanted to bang yourself against a wall. Sunoo was the criminal to such a situation, when you’d ask him if he knew someone who had formal dresses, he came prepared with his sister’s.
What you didn’t imagine though is that you’d look this— unimaginable in it. Now, the test to survive in such a dress begins.
“Are you ready?”
A familiar voice knocks at your door. With a final twirl and perhaps a bit of consciousness over your outfit, you open the door and—
Shit.
Of course it was Sunghoon. Who else could it possibly be? But it was Sunghoon. The person in front of you is Sunghoon, the delicate fabric of his suit tailored perfectly to his body. It was an attire you never saw him in before, usually he’d wear something black. This one, was a jet blue.
And the face, oh gosh his face. He never wears makeup but he looked absolutely glistening in this angle, or it was perhaps because of the fact that his hair was put into perfection, styled with gel in the most perfect manner ever.
God he looked handsome.
“Oh, wow.” You mumble short, quickly regaining your composure once you feel your jaw go slack. Sunghoon tilts his head, oblivious to the way you gawk, “Ready to go?” He asks.
“I am— yeah, I’ll just close the door.”
You don't know why you had to state that.
Sunghoon chuckles, "You look very pretty.”
“You don’t—” You turn around and face him, hoping he doesn’t catch hint of the slight blush on your cheeks. “Look too bad yourself.”
Sunghoon grins, “Let’s go, yeah?”
You nod. The walk to the to the hotel’s banquet hotel was filled with short conversations of aristocrats, owners, and businessmen alike. (Mostly on Sunghoon’s part.) He does most of the talking, and you are able to differentiate exactly why he was made for this world.
Concise, sharp, and straight to the point— that’s exactly how he answers. Capable of getting the receiving end to share more than what was necessary. The way he spoke was smooth as butter.
Eventually, the two of you reach the event’s place. It was a large room with decor similar to the lobby, it had plenty of cocktail tables displayed around. Tables of appetizers and wine were lined up as the room was already filled with those who belong in such a world.
It was rather lively. Easily, Sunghoon blends into the crowd with you tagging along. “Don’t stray too far, these people bite.” He warns,
“But if we’re lucky, we can make something out of this.”
“Oh? Is that Kim Corporations? We might have a shot at partnership.” You mumble beside him, Sunghoon smirks. “You already know how it works.”
“Of course," you give him a meek smile, but there was a hint of mischief behind your eyes. “I am your secretary, after all.”
The night bursted with sophistication, coupled with endless interactions with entrepreneurs and businessmen alike. The art of being in such an industry works wonders. It was not much of a question to those who have not yet stepped a foot into such a world— as to what makes something like this so crucial in each and every aspect of a company.
Building connections, establishing a name for your group— that was the main goal of such gatherings. But these people are not to be confused to be clean slated, offering kindness and partnerships in one swift go. If anything, they were quite the opposite, and rather brutal, too.
This world bites you not in the face, but in the fucking ass.
It was noticeable enough, with the way the discerning eyes of those who’ve proved they are all that, gauge at the actions who they consider either as an opponent or ally. Either way, Sunghoon was no opponent to anyone else, at least for now. And he knows this, keeping his boundaries in tact, knowing the realm of such a harsh reality. And ultimately, he prepares himself.
“If there’s something you might want to ask away…” The moment comes all too soon, a man dressed in a silky red suit approached you seconds prior, a glass of champagne in his hands. His hair was slick, eyes governing only what you could describe as interest. Deep, growing, interest.
“You can ask me. I’m open for questions, or better yet we can take it elsewhere?”
It seemed clear the business he had in mind was different. You somewhat sigh, maintaining your best to remain polite and opting to give the thick-browed man a tight-lipped smile. Sunghoon had gone for a couple of minutes to entertain other businessmen after much assurance that you can do fine on your own.
“I appreciate the concern, I think any queries I may have in mind may be taken here and absolutely not elsewhere.”
He doesn’t seem to get the hint.
“I’m Si-Woo. Soon to be heir of the Loom Corporations. I think you know very well what company I’m pertaining to, given that, you’ve earned your place here.”
Loom Corporations? Doesn’t ring a bell.
“Well, that’s besides the point miss. Because—” He takes an inch further, reaching out his arm, “Here to make quite a different impression on you.”
But before his grubby hands could even fathom reaching the surface of your skin, a sudden grasp on your waist pulls you back and against a chest of another. The perfume of his was enough of a recognition. “Si-Woo, long time no see?”
It was Sunghoon, the tone of his voice drooping down. “I didn’t know you were taking over your family’s business.”
The man pulls back, placing his hands back to himself as he eyes Sunghoon with a smile of his own. A smile that screamed— what the fuck did you do?
“Sunghoon. It’s been a while, yeah. My father handed it over to me. Is she with you?” He asks, seemingly not catching onto the hint. But Sunghoon was glad to slap it in his face, “She is, why do you ask?”
“I don’t know,” The man shrugs, “You told me you hated getting a secretary before, much less, a female one.” The way the word female spews out of his tongue made rage bubble inside your stomach. It was blatant insult, and he wasn’t being discrete about it, too.
“I don’t remember telling you that. I dislike secretaries in general.” Sunghoon subtly pulls you further in his embrace, “She’s an exception. I’d appreciate it if you can get your hands off my employees.”
“I see,” The man feigns amuse, “I’ll take note of that then. See you around, Sunghoon. Be careful."
The latter part sounded like a threat, a warning that gave Sunghoon an inkling idea of this. Of the words he spews out, the dangers his confidence resided in. Sunghoon feels no threat however, with the way he tilts his head to the side and raise his brow. With the way he smiles and says, “Gladly.”
The man eventually leaves with a frown on his face, the champagne leaving a bitter taste down his throat. Sunghoon deviates his warm hands from your waist. “Are you okay?” He asks.
“Yes, I had it under control.”
“I know.”
“Why did you step in?”
Sunghoon frowns, crossing his arms. He’s facing you now, “Was that a problem?”
“No, it’s just—”
“I was only doing my job as your boss.” Sunghoon intervenes, the tone of his voice shot straight through your chest. It had felt like he was raising his voice at you.
“Are you mad?”
“Why would I be mad?”
“It feels like you’re mad.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Mr. Sunghoon.”
“Ms. Y/N.”
“Sunghoon.”
“Is that any way to talk to your boss right now?”
“What?” You rub your temple, gazing around the banquet hall. Luckily, there was no one who had interest in snooping in. “I can’t believe this.”
“What?”
“Just tell me if you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad, I’m just worried.” Sunghoon says, grazing your arm and gently making you face him. “I know that guy, we used to go to the same highschool. And he’s—” Sunghoon puts his hand on his hips, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dangerous. As much as possible I don’t want you going near him, I know how he works.”
“I know how men like him work.”
You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again like a fish. Now, it had made sense. “Oh. I see.” You nodded, “I’m sorry if that’s the case I didn’t know.”
Sunghoon shook his head, “It’s alright, just—” and by some unexpected air in the wind, he subtly rubbed the small of your back.
“Just be careful, okay?'
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By some odd reason, Park Sunghoon couldn’t get his eyes to pierce away from you.
If the sole reason was because of your encounter with the man earlier, it didn’t really explain why his gaze looked… Like that.
From the corner of your eyes, you see the way his gaze lingered just a tad bit longer, or the way his eyes would droop down to yours, down to the curves of your lips. And as the night shifted and the event eventually wrapped up, you find yourself in a turmoil on the way back to your room, walking alongside him. Complete, utter silence.
And once you reach the room of your door, exhaustion hitting you faintly, Sunghoon stood in front. He didn’t speak on the way back, he kept his works at a minimum at the banquet. “Thank you, you should get some rest for tomorrow, sir.”
You referred to him with the formalities, if Sunghoon noticed, he doesn’t argue. “Mmh. You should go inside.” He says, but your feet don’t move. “I really should.”
You really should.
“Yeah.”
And Sunghoon should really turn around and go to his room.
But you both don’t.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
“Say, um—"
“Hey—”
Sunghoon beat you to it, “You go first.”
You really shouldn’t be making such an offer, but you do. “I have some wine that I brought, I see you hadn’t had a drink at the banquet earlier.”
“I could ask you the same thing.” He says, crossing his arms with a smug grin; he was surprised you even noticed. “We can toast if you want? For today’s event, I mean, it’s okay if—”
“I’d want that.” Sunghoon intervenes, taking up the offer with much enthusiasm. You nod, turning around to grapple your door with sweat and clammy hands, wishing, hoping, he doesn’t hear the nervous beating of your heart. It wasn’t your own home, but you felt conscious of it. Had you left any underwear lying around? Is your bed fixed? Did you make sure to organize your stuff?
Fortunately, your room was neat and tidy. Sunghoon enters, his presence looming behind your back. It was the tension you’d felt at the latter part of the gathering just minutes back— thick and strained. You only hoped it was just you who felt that way.
Your back was turned on him as you approached the refrigerator door, reaching for the wine you’d brought along the trip. One of his favorites, on work days Sunghoon requested wine early in the mornings rather than coffee. The moment you had a chance to open the door however, Sunghoon’s long arms and hands closed them for you. Both of his arms situated at either side of you, ultimately trapping you. “I thought we would—”
Something shifts.
And a subtle weight was placed upon your right shoulder. His hair tickled the nape of your neck ever so slighty as he mumbled, “I lied…”
Confused, you utter, “What do you mean?”
“I’ve had my share of alcohol back at the banquet, I don’t want anymore.”
Oh, so that’s why his breath smelled like slight cherries.
“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have—”
“Can you turn around, please?” Sunghoon whispers, “Wha—"
“Please?” He now begs.
So you do, moving like an animatronic that had no mind of its own, coming face to face with Sunghoon just inches away from your face. His arms still trapped you in the door of the fridge, refusing to let go. His eyes were that of softness mixed with endless nights of no sleep.
His subtle laboured breathing and the slight flush of his cheeks was enough of a hint.
He looks at you– thoroughly looks at you with the same eyes you’ve seen him draw before.
… Fondness.
“Are you okay?” You quietly ask him, hands flaunting around in an attempt to do something. Sunghoon grins, tilting his head to the side like a lost puppy at your words. “Mmh, you’re so…” His fingers took a strand of hair, twirling it around.
“Pretty.” Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate to answer. He knew he drank something, but he wasn’t drunk, neither was he tipsy. “Looking so dolled up there, y’know, I almost lost my shit.”
You were left speechless, strangled by his unexpected confession. “Almost.” He laughs, shaking his head more so as if he was talking to himself. “You’re so not making this easy for me, baby, just…” Then his fingertips trailed from your hair, to your shoulder, to the base of your chin, grasping it gently and making you look at him and not anywhere else.
He’s not making this any easy on you, either.
“Can I kiss you?”
You almost choked.
What?!?!
“Sunghoon, are you drunk—”
“No.”
“Then why—”
“I just want you, is that bad?”
No it’s not. It’s terrible. Absolutely terrible, devastating, catastrophic. How were you supposed to remind him that he’s your boss and people in such position don’t usually say things like that? Do things like trap you, hold your waist, your hair— and most of all, how were you supposed to say to him that enjoyed it, too? That you quite literally soften and cave in to his touch, making you feel like putty?
How were you supposed to tell him that every thing he’s been doing to you, albeit it being the most smallest thing ever, has you blushing and losing your mind? You’d want him just as much as he’d want you. As simple as one, two, three. But you’re just his secretary, and he’s a man of high value and respect. So no, it wouldn’t make sense, nor would it be right to do such a thing.
“But I’m your secretary, Sunghoon. It really wouldn’t be right if—”
“Do you want me too?”
“Wha— Yes, but—”
“Then it’s okay, right?”
Sunghoon insisted of his soberness, but right now his words felt drunkenly. He never spoke like this. Can you really indulge yourself in such an act?
“Sunghoon…”
The man sighs, caressing your cheek. In a split second, somehow— he regains his senses as his fingers twitch beneath. His eyes sparked, hand pulling back, “I’m sorry— fuck. Why did I ask that….”
The shame in his voice was evident, pain tainting each and every word. He creates a distance, rather, he tries to.
“No, it’s not like that, hey—”
“It’s okay it was a mistake on my part, I’m sorry, I—”
“Stop—”
Well fuck it.
You pulled his collar and smashed your lips against his. Hard, rough, passionate.
It wasn’t any kiss, it felt needing, deprived of something far greater. With no questions needed, Sunghoon kisses back with the same rhythm, pulling you— Closer. Closer. Closer.
Only then when the two of you run out breath pull out, heaving breathless gasps as your breath mingled with his. “So sweet…” Sunghoon whispers, gliding a thumb across your bottom lip. Fuck.
“Sunghoon are you sure of this, I—”
“I want you.” He says breathlessly.
All walls crumbled down. Suddenly, this very moment in the dim lights of your hotel, did you feel the need to disregard all sense of formality and professionalism you had for Sunghoon. It was driving you insane. With the way his fingers carved its presence on each and every detail of your body, the way his gaze felt needing of something, the way his lips felt so perfect and ripe against yours.
It didn’t matter now what the consequences would entail later.
Because what more could you possibly want more than this?
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The soft morning dew cascaded through the soft, thin fabric of the curtains. A gentle reminder that the morning has come to greet you as the rays of the sun hit the corner of your eyes.
You winced visibly, blinking through the light that had come to disturb your peaceful sleep. The sheets were as soft as ever, plush, and encompassing against your body. Your naked body—
Fuck!
Quickly, you flung your eyes open, feeling the sensation of the cold air hitting the crevices of your breast. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
You shifted slightly, trying to make sense of the situation at hand, only to feel a strong sensation on your waist, pulling you closely to something warm and hard. You weren’t going to pretend it was nothing, because it was definitely Sunghoon.
The more likely solution? You were going to pretend you were asleep.
You know what went down last night. The intense hunger and ravishing desires from the two of you, the touching, the teasing, the banters, the actual thing.
“Mmh.” A mumble can be heard from behind, tickling the base of your neck. His grip on your waist tightens, spooning you in the most oddly comfortable position ever. Sunghoon was still asleep.
Quickly trying to get the senses to stand up, you unwrap his strong arms from your waist, but he wasn’t budging!
Something shuffles, and then all of a sudden, you feel his lips come into contact with your ears, “Good morning…”
His morning voice slips through you as Sunghoon’s fingertips caressed the area just above your belly button. Unlike you, he was calm and still. “G-good morning…” You mumble, still unfamiliar with his touch on you.
This is really happening, Sunghoon clasping you in his arms and you, bare and naked.
With a soft sigh, Sunghoon’s strong arms gripped your waist and gently turned you around to face him. The sight that greeted you was heavenly with his slow blinking eyes and the light grin that adorned his features. Given that the sunlight had its trajectory over to your bedroom space, the sunlight hit his face in such a manner that it looked like he was glowing.
God, you felt your knees tremble.
“Did you sleep well?” He asks, letting his hands run from your waist to your hair, gently removing the strands of hair. You nod, “I did, what about you?”
Sunghoon nods, ”I did too.”
Acting on impulse, you let your fingetips touch his cheeks, carving little moons on them, down to the mole that settled beneath his eyes. You settled in the tranquil, just the two of you, feeling the need to not say anything at all. Sunghoon hums as you explore the depths of his face, and you smile as you remember each feature of his.
It felt too good to be true.
“What time do we have to go back to Korea?” You ask all of a sudden, retracting your hands away from his face. Sunghoon felt a sense of coldness from the lost of touch as he answers, “Around lunch. We have much matters to attend to back there.”
You nod, feeling glad to be back in your own safe space. As much as Paris had felt like the biggest dreams for you, you were starting to feel a little homesick.
Something then rings from the bedstand, garnering your attention away from each other. It was Sunghoon’s phone and he answers it after you urged him to do so.
“Hello?”
“Hello? Sunghoon?”
“What is this for? Who are you?”
“Ah! I’m so glad I got through, your father gave me your number. He said you’ll be back from France in a bit, then we can discuss over some things after you’re here.”
“Who is this?”
“Don’t you remember me? I’m Kim Sohee! Gosh, I missed you! We have so much to catch up on.”
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You know for a fact that some things are only temporary.
At age ten, you lost your favorite toy over to the neighbor’s son. At age fifteen, your bestfriend of years had left you to go study overseas. At age nineteen, you chose a course unrelated to what you had now, only to shift because you felt uninspired.
At age twenty-three, you felt like you were on a very tightrope.
Like there was a piece of line connecting your desire and the fear you felt from those desires. It was a thin rope, barely hanging on. Yet, you keep jumping around it regardless, always loving a bit of the challenge it gave you. But that tightrope was already there for years on end, and frankly speaking, it was about to break any moment now.
“We have to go back to Korea straight away, sir. Some things can’t be kept waiting.”
There was bitterness in your voice, a hint of pain and sadness lingering too. You refused to let your voice crack, refused to let Sunghoon see the expression in your face as you stuffed some of your clothes into your luggage.
“We don’t have to, my father said—”
“What your father said is right. It’ll be perfect for the company’s name.”
Finally, you had the guts to look at him. Just barely.
“Y/N,” Sunghoon says, frustrated. He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Why’re you acting like this?”
But deep down, Sunghoon knows why.
“Like what, sir? I’m completely fine. Please, get your things packed, it’s already past lunch and the driver is waiting for us outside.”
“Y/N, I—”
“Please.” You now beg, looking at him as a whole now. You felt the tears trickle down your face. “Just go.”
“Listen to me, Y/N. I didn’t want this to happen, okay! I tried talking to father about it, and—”
“So you knew for weeks that you were getting married?” You scoff, “and you refuse to tell me and chose to do this instead?”
Sunghoon’s eyes shifts, he swallows the dryness in his throat. “I didn’t know father would take it seriously. Listen, I refused the absurd idea when he told me before and he seemed okay with it.”
You shook your head, “He wasn’t okay with it. You thought he was, but you know how this industry works, Sunghoon.”
The weight of your words felt heavy on Sunghoon’s shoulder, he couldn’t utter a single word, only watching as you haphazardly fix your things, your luggage, your clothes— everything. Like you were showing him that traces of you were never meant to be here in the first place.
And for the worst part? Sunghoon knows you’re right. He knows something like this— whatever you had going on, would never slip by in such a world where power was everything and you had none of that. At least, neither in money nor in status.
You were just his secretary.
And he was someone so high up that it hurts.
Sunghoon knows he couldn’t do anything about it either, because the marriage was in two days time. Unbeknownst to him, his father has already organized and planned out everything behind his back.
Unbeknownst to him, he was getting married for the sake of family business all against his own will.
And you knew, too that Sunghoon is just your boss, nothing more, nothing less. Someone deserving of respect and none of this. Your awful, tainted desire of wanting him. The hesitant gazes and touches, none of the office romance you’d always read and watched in movies.
Sunghoon just stood there, unresponsive. He stood with a frustrated gaze and a heavy heart as he watched you pack. “Just leave, sir. Please.” You beg for the last time.
And Sunghoon listens.
He leaves.
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The ride on the way back to Korea felt exhausting to say the least.
It was silent yes, with the way neither of you spoke a word and let the silence hung in the air. But it was an uncomfortable silence, the kind that was dreadful and undesirable.
Sunghoon did not bother to speak at all, neither did he try and resolve the problem. And although it stung, it had to be for the best.
After all, are there any more solutions left?
It had been some time in the afternoon when you arrived back to Korea, opting to go to the company first to attend to some business at hand regarding Sunghoon. The said business being his marriage preparations. Ironically enough, you were in charge for the preparations and the designing of the venue itself.
His father was there, his sister, his mother, the woman she was to marry— Kim Sohee, and her relatives involved in the matter.
It was a proposal of marriage, all for the game of business and wealth. But Sunghoon knows Sohee, and she knows him too. They’ve been close enough since they were little, after all.
Sohee’s eyes, though, are different towards him.
The woman felt and looked like one of stature, keeping her head up high and her words crisp and straightforward. She kept her guard and her image well put, yet she had that strange look towards Sunghoon whenever he gazed over in her direction, must be love or something like that.
As for Sunghoon? You couldn’t bother— couldn’t bear to see what his expression would hold.
The meeting ends on a peaceful note, with Sunghoon going along with what was planned for him and you, trying to keep everything professional all in the name of your job. But every minute you hear the word marriage, it had felt like torture on your end.
“The honeymoon must be held in Italy! It’s surely such a beautiful place.” The mother of Sohee spoke, she was a bit of a nagger, too enthusiastic for this entire ordeal. Park Sungwoo, Sunghoon’s father, chimed in, “No, no. I was thinking of France. You know? The city of love, it is very worthwhile to spend their moments there as a newly-wed couple.”
You physically feel your eyes roll. How fucking ironic.
“Secretary Y/N? I entrust the matters of the preparation to you.” Sungwoo says, nodding with enthusiasm. He knows of your capabilities as Sunghoon’s secretary, but he doesn’t know what you’ve done with Sunghoon. He’d be sad if he ever hears about it, honestly. You nod, attempting to feign innocence and professionalism. “Yes, leave it up to me, sir.”
You feel a pair of eyes slice you in half but you ignore it regardless. It didn’t matter now, at least, not anymore.
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The two days of rushing the preparations back and forth proved to be much troublesome than expected.
Weddings take months, if not, years to prepare. Doing it in a day was torture, absolute fucking hell. From venue, to designs, food and other paraphernalias, sleeping had barely been an option anymore.
Spending late nights over at the office had once again, become inevitable. During office hours, you raked through paperworks. The hours following it, consisted solely of wedding planning.
Each task felt heavy and long when it came to the latter part. Time passes by so swiftly whenever you worked on paperworks. But for this? It’s like time wasn’t moving at all. Like right now, a particular moment late at night. Twelve hours before the ceremony, you were busy working your ass off for the guest list. Much aid had already been handed out to you from your previous department.
You were a perfectionist at heart. Refusing to let your feelings get the best of you, and ensuring that each and every aspect of the ceremony was spot on.
“Yes, yes. 9AM tomorrow if it’s possible, I’ll send the venue over.”
The clicking of your keyboard reverberated throughout the room, you squeezed your phone in between your ear and shoulder.
Part of you hoped Sunghoon would swing by and perhaps stay a bit longer like he’d used to.
But he didn’t do so yesterday, so it was highly unlikely he’d do it right now.
Yet you hoped, you wished for him to stay a little longer despite all the pushing away.
“Thank you, I’ll give the complete details tomorrow.” You end the call on your end, feeling a bit of the weight sliver away from your shoulder. It was 1AM now, office hours had long been gone and it was just you inside the office and the dim lights from your table.
You stretched your arms over your head, yawning as you did so.
A soft thud can be heard and suddenly, a small bottle of coffee and a sandwich was placed in front of you; the kind of coffee that’ll have you awake for hours and the kind of sandwich that’ll have you full for a while. Surprised, you looked behind your back only to see him. Arms crossed, leaning in one of the spare tables.
Park Sunghoon.
“Sir, what’re you doing here?”
He nods towards the coffee and sandwich, “Go eat. You haven’t eaten.”
“I’m fine.” You nudge the food away.
“Still so subborn? I said just eat.” Quickly taking it upon himself, Sunghoon unwraps the sandwich and he prods it towards your lips. Your eyes scan over his features, he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. He probably came home first, then came back here to give you this.
You don’t open your mouth, mainting politeness and pushing his hands away. Still so soft and gentle. “I’m not hungry, sir. I’m fine.”
But as if he was some sort of fortune teller, he holds your chin and opens your mouth to push the sandwich in. The moment you took a bite, your stomach grumbled and Sunghoon visibly smirked. Embarrassed, you chew on the sandwich with a slight frown, taking the food from his hand.
“See? I told you.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s past office hours, what are you still doing here?”
“Why? Can’t I be here at my own company?” He says, clearly amused.
“No, it’s just that, you know, you should be sleeping and preparding for the big day and all that.” You had to give yourself a pat on the back for letting that slip out so smoothly.
Sunghoon doesn’t respond for a couple of seconds, contemplating whether or not to tell you. That he tried to go to bed early, convincing himself that everything was for the best. That all it ever led to was him waking up in the middle of the night, only to imagine you laying in his sheets, body wrapped with his.
That all he ever thought of the duration of his so called wedding preparations was you and you alone.
That he told his father about this whole thing and it had led them to fight and end up in an intense disagreement, only for his father to be ever so stubborn but understanding at the same time.
That his father understood where he was coming from but still decided to push the marriage regardless because it’ll solely benefit the company.
That at the same time, his father and Sunghoon had come on a mutual agreement on marrying Kim Sohee in name only and parting ways after because the woman too, had someone for her own.
That in the end, all you ever thought of were the negative outcomes, thinking it was beneficial for the two of you, not knowing there was a solution.
So Sunghoon doesn’t speak, choosing not to overwhelm you. Instead, he watches as you take small bites of the sandwich and small sips of the coffee.
“Is it good?” He asks, clearly not having to with the way you inhaled the food. You nod, “Thanks, I hadn’t had lunch yet.”
“I know.” Sunghoon still looms over you, his fingertips coming contact with the side of your lips as he sweeped off a piece of the food you ate. You were given not the chance to respond as the moment came all too quick.
“You’ve been overworking.” He mumbles, crossing his arms once more as he observed the way you fumble with the things you needed to prepare. You nod, “I have to make sure your wedding is perfect. I can’t let it fail.”
“Why do you care so much?”
His sudden question caught you off guard, a heavy weight bears on the air as he awaits for a response. Barely looking at him and focusing on typing instead, you heave out a sigh.
Because not caring will make your growing feelings have the chance to prosper.
Because not caring will truly reveal your desires of wanting him, needing him.
And you don’t want that.
“What do you mean? I’m your secretary, sir. It’s only my job to care.”
“Really?”
But Sunghoon knows deep down that wasn’t the case. “Y/N.” You don’t respond. Sunghoon repeats his words with more force, “Y/N, can you look at me?”
You look at him, hoping the vulnerability in your eyes don’t show. “Do you think that time at Paris, the things we did were all a mistake?”
You were quick to answer, “No. I would never think like that. Would you?”
The response that came next came was a surprise.
“I didn’t lie when I said I want you. And I still do.”
“You just want the idea of me sir. When I can’t give anything anymore, things will be useless in the end.”
“That isn’t true.”
“Then tell me what is.”
“I can’t.”
“Why? So it’s really true then?”
“I can’t tell you right now.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Cause—”
“Why, Sunghoon? Because if you’re telling me you can’t tell me because of your feelings, then what about mine? Have you ever thought about mine?”
“Cause it’s all I fucking think of Y/N— Your feelings, my feelings. Us. This. Shit.”
A heavy silence hung in the air once more.
You couldn’t speak. It didn’t help that Sunghoon was there, waiting for a reaction, waiting for something, anything. And when he realize you wouldn’t, he sighs and rakes his hair with his hand, “Do you fucking trust me?”
“It’s hard.”
“Will you try?“ Sunghoon offers a hand, hesitant and doubtful, you take it. “Please?”
And for once, he pulls you to his chest.
He kisses you.
“Please? Just trust me this once?”
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It didn’t take long before the ceremony was over and everything was closing its doors.
It’s all a marriage of convenience, Sunghoon reassures you.
Months past, and even through the honeymoon trip set up by their families, Sunghoon reassures you. Through the places they go to, the sites they saw and admired, Sunghoon reassures you that everything he shared, he treasured most with you.
He returns from his trip, greeting you with a boquet of pink lillies in the office door. He’d brought it on the way to his office, countless gasps and stares came his way, assuming it was for Kim Sohee.
But it wasn’t.
It was for you and you only.
Kim Sohee respects this fact, there was no need to argue over such things given that she too, had something of her own. Assumptions were made on your part and you internally had to apologize for being so quick to judge. It was all a mutual agreement, that upon public name, the two were married. But in private, the two had romantic matters of their own.
On your end, it was better that way.
There was no prying nor discrimination with your relationship with Sunghoon, no snoopful ears to disrupt anything you had with him, no jealousy nor bashful comments towards your way.
It was a particular moment months after everything had begun between the two of you, behind closed doors, or particularly, inside Sunghoon’s office— you frequented the place more than usual. You have lunch there, you spend a little more time there during moments where you had nothing to do, you spent late nights working at his office rather than your usual table.
Sunghoon loved the company you gave him. Often times, stirring off work and observing everything you do instead, or getting a bit too nosy and sticking his nose in your tasks.
Like right now.
“Sunghoon, I promise this’ll be the last part. Can you let go for a bit?”
Sunghoon sat beside you, right hand behind your back as the other entertained itself by aimlessly roaming around your thigh. His head nuzzled itself on your shoulder, nose inhaling your scent. H
Contrary to others’ beliefs and assumption, Sunghoon was clingy and stuck like glue whenever no one else was looking over your way. He acted like he wasn’t your boss. He had this habit of touching you discretely, and you bet on hell that he must be some koala during his past life.
Because when he wasn’t touching you or grazing his hand over you, he was staring at you instead.
“I can’t, you’ve been working for hours on that thing. How long will will that end?”
He mumbles, peppering soft kisses down your neck and down to your shoulders.
“In a bit.”
“You said that an hour ago.”
“Really? Did I?”
“You did, can you stop working now?” Sunghoon’s voice sounded like a bit of a whine on your part. You liked him better this way, so attached to you like a little kid, so devoid of his snarky responses and mean comments. Different from the Sunghoon you’ve come to know him from.
Choosing to finally follow his constant whining, you closed your laptop and faced the man who had a slight pout etched upon his features. “Are you always this clingy?” You quip, allowing Sunghoon’s arms to wrap around your waist. You held his face in your hands.
“I’m not, don’t tell anyone.”
“What if I do?” You tease him. Sunghoon tickled the spot just below your chest. “You won’t.”
You laugh uncontrollably as Sunghoon tickled you in places he knew you were ticklish in. A soft grin escapes his features as your laughter continues to bubble from his constant tickling. “Sunghoon— stop!” You laugh.
He grins, making you think he had stopped by pulling his hands away momentarily, only to attach itself back to you.
The ruckus eventually dies down though, and Sunghoon retracted his hands back and settle them on the curves of your waist. The large grin that adorned his features was inevitable, it felt like he had stars in his eyes.
“You done teasing me now?” He says, you laugh. “I wasn’t teasing you! Only stating facts.”
“Oh, but you were.”
“Wasn’t.”
“Were.”
“Wasn’t.”
“Were.”
“Wasn’t—”
Soft, plump lips crashed itself upon yours. He shuts you up with a kiss, the impact causing you to stumble ever so slightly.
He really just knows the effect he has on you.
Sunghoon pulls back, connecting his forehead with yours.
“Can you say that again?”
You pout, defeated by his tactics of getting through your heart. He knows the right tactics, the right time and place to make your heart jump out of your chest.
“Whatever, have some little respect to ypur secretary.”
And you? Well, let’s just say you had the secretary weapon to use on him.
Sunghoon chuckles, caressing your supple cheeks with a large smile.
“You’re so cute, baby.”
*:·゚✧*:·゚✧ END *:·゚✧*:·゚✧
EXTRAS!
“I think a touch of pink would go best with your skirt.”
“No, peach would definitely be better.”
“Baby, what’s the difference, exactly?”
Piles of fabric lay within your fingertips, a pastel color for each their own. Blue, green, pink— aha!
“See? Peach looks much lighter, while pink is just, well, pink.”
“Very detailed description.”
Sunghoon turns to the small little figure, staring at the two of you with clueless eyes. She tilts her head as her eyes feigned curiosity as to what the two of you were arguing about.
Cuteness agression much?
“Jimin, which one would you like best for your skirt? The peach or the pink one?” You hold two pieces of fabric in fronf of you, expectant that she’ll choose yours, because you refuse to lose to Park Sunghoon.
“Purple, I want purple, mommy.”
Oh.
Sunghoon laughs exasperatedly, clutching his stomach as he pointed at you, “See! I told you our choices wouldn’t matter!” He quips. You frown, “This isn’t funny.”
“So purple it is? Are you sure?” You talked to the child— your child in a high pitched voice while Sunghoon gets one of irritation. Jimin nods, “I don’t like pink, or kroral.”
You smile, thinking of exactly the same thing as your husband: so fucking cute!
Suddenly, soft wails and cries could be heard from your shared bedroom. It was your son, Park Junsoo, awake from his usual nap. You and Sunghoon looked at each other, before eventually, he’s the one that loses the staring battle and he goes to the bedroom to pick your son up.
He comes back with a wailing little baby in his arms, gently cooing until he calms down.
“This little guy’s such a crybaby…” Sunghoon mumbles, rocking the baby in his arms, side to side, back and forth. The little stars that adorned his eyes were evident as he looked at his son with much love and adoration.
Park Jimin, your daughter who is seven years old, had facial features similar to you, but her personality came from Sunghoon. Calm, collected, and composed. While Park Junsoo had gotten his face from his father, but from the way he whined and clinged, you could tell this child was going to become a bit of a nagger, much like you.
“I wonder where he got it from.” Sunghoon teases, looking over your direction.
“Oh shut up.” You roll your eyes at him.
This was your little family now.
A home filled with so much love and gentleness you wouldn’t have things any other way.
And truth be told, this was the thing you love most about Park Sunghoon. Always so patient, so kind and gentle— the epitome of the perfect everything.
Before, you always used to think he was some sort of spoiled brat who wanted everything to go his way.
But now, he is the father of your two children, sacrificing most of his time and effort despite coming home from work exhausted and tired. Just to see you smile, just to see your family smile.
Life is beautiful on your part, so, so, beautiful.
For years on end, you no longer survived on cup noodles or anything instant, constantly living in life of luxury as Sunghoon spoils your family to death after inheriting the family business.
Park Sunghoon knows the way to your heart, to everything about you, down from the tips of your toes to your whole entire soul.
“Finally got them to go to bed, god.”
It was past midnight now, Jimin had finally run out of energy to stop jumping around bend and close her eyes. While Junsoo had stopped his little fits of crying and dozed off. It was exhausting, taking care of two kids at the same time.
Most days, when Sunghoon was at work (you had to stop momentarily to take care of your younger), the routine was ten times harder. Constantly in a back and forth motion to tend to your childrens’ wants and needs— it was an endless battle in an entire day.
But when Sunghoon was with you during the weekends, taking care of your children became much more bearable and somewhat enjoyable. Partly because the task was split and partly because you got to spend time with your husband.
“I think we need to go to sleep now. I’m tired from all that.” Sunghoon agrees, tiredness also evident in his features. The two of you proceeded to your nightly routine in silence, battery recharging bit by bit.
Then, you settled down in your shared bed with his arms wrapped around yours.
It was cold, but the warmth of the blankets and his body heat gave you a sense of comfort and reassurance, the kind that had your eyes blinking in utter drowsiness. “So warm…” You mumble in his embrace as Sunghoon traced circular patterns around your back.
He lifted your pajama shirt just slightly, allowing him to grasp the exposed part. “Thank you, baby.” He whispers, kissing your forehead ever so gently. “Mmh? For what?”
“For this. I’m grateful for you and this beautiful family we’ve built.”
You smiled, “Are you happy to have me?”
Sunghoon nuzzled his head in your neck, inhaling the fresh soap you’d showered with. Then, he peppered soft kisses to your shoulder, down to your collarbone. “More than. I love you so much.”
“Sunghoon, just wondering…”
Sunghoon hums, you feel the drowsiness start to make its way to his features. “Those days at the office, you know, when you were being mean and an ass and all that.”
Sunghoon chuckles, nuzzling his head in your neck as you tease, “Why’d you suddenly become all nice and offer a ride home?”
“I’m not a complete ass you know.”
“Well, you were.”
“I was but—” He chuckles, pulling away from your embrace slightly and pecking your forehead, your nose, your lips. “Yeji kind of beat me to reality with treating you properly.”
Surprised, you ask, “Yeji? She did that?”
Sunghoon nods, “She said she saw how you looked when you left the company and it made her feel bad.”
“How do I look then?”
“Tired. Anxious. You know, stressed from dealing with my stuff.”
“Ugly?”
“Mmmmm, never ugly baby.” Sunghoon’s lips ghosted above yours, and it didn’t take long before he kissed you with such love. The kiss was slow, careful, and filled with sleepiness that you chuckled in the midst of it.
“Always pretty.” He mumbles. You grin, “Always pretty?”
Without any more words said, Park Sunghoon nodded and soon dozed off to sleep with a large grin adorning his features. He relaxed against your touch and your touch alone, no longer was he the Park Sunghoon that had the entire weight of the world on his shoulders.
You shared that weight with him.
So you kissed the top of his head, ruffling his soft hair within your fingertips.
“I love you too.”
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yandere-romanticaa · 1 year ago
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Darkness loomed over Penacony as you ran barefoot across the dimly lit streets, the drunk passerbys oblivious to your rushed footsteps and heaving chest.
It has been six months since you felt the cool fresh air on your own. Six long, hellish months of bizarre captivity that made your head spin. Boothill was the personification of a locked and loaded gun, constantly on the chase for his next IPC lackey to shoot, or if he was in the mood he would hop on a totally different planet which no one knew about, which naturally only made him want to go even more.
The pain of trying to keep up with him was horrid. Rancid even. Scrapes and bruises, hell, even broken bones became a mild concern once you started to see the plethora of wanted posters which had your face plastered over them.
Solid bounty to boot.
Whenever you would bring up these concerns, Boothill would let out the most hearty laugh, his head thrown back so hard that his hat would come off. He would then proceed to smack you across your back, proudly saying that it was his own personal little way of claiming you.
No person with any common sense would dare come for you.
He would just shoot them dead on the spot.
"That's not a threat pumkin'!" he would say as he casually drank his drink, the alcohol swishing and swaying in the pristine crystal glass. He drank it all in one swoop before setting it back down on the counter, his gaze laser focused on you.
"It's a promise."
From the corner of your eye, you could see the way his hand was resting on the holster of his gun and came to the wise realization that you believed him.
Through trial and error, you have come to terms with the fact that Boothill will keep his promises, particularly if they were related to you.
Running away from him in the overcrowded bar was... was most definitely not the brightest idea but it had worked. It was indeed still working, even with your aching feet and burning lungs. Your entire body begged you to just stop and take a breath, but that option was impossible, because you knew all too well what was in store for you.
As if on cue, you heard him before you saw him.
Endless echoes of shouts, yelps and strings of curses followed you as you continued to flee from him. Boothill pushed, shoved and kicked absolutely every single person onto the ground if they dared to stand in his way, not giving a flying fuck - oh how satisfying it was to curse in front of him since you knew that he could not - any of them were hurt.
"Come back!" he yelled, his voice heavy and hoarse.
You did not turn around, such a luxury was not possible. Against your body's wishes, you ran.
He pursued.
A chorus of shots rang in the air, all of which were too close for comfort. None of the bullets were meant for you as the Galaxy Ranger was being pursued by the Bloodhound family, each one barking orders and insults at each other as they did everything they could to keep your so called lover in check.
As if Xipe themself had acknowledged your efforts, you spotted a tiny alleyway which was perfect to hide in. Boothill had lost his momentum due to his own pursuers, giving you precious seconds to decide on your next course of action.
And with the way you could feel your feet physically give into the pressure, you made your way into the pitch dark alleyway, carefully tip toeing around any possible source of sound. With a sigh you sat behind a large dumpster, the ultimate coverage in this time of need.
A faint glimmer of hope formed in your heart. It was hard to focus on anything other than the fact that you were free from his grasp. You'd much rather take in the stench of trash than his robotic arms, the memory alone making you shiver.
Behind the safety of your dumpster, the streets sounded like a mini warzone.
How typical of him. Being subtle was never his style.
Everything he did, Boothill did to be the biggest menace and pest known to society. He would tell you stories of his escapades as his eyes trailed over your whole body like a starving wolf, his sharp pearly white teeth almost looking like knives in your eyes.
Oh how he loved to sink his teeth into your neck. The noises you let out only seemed to spur him, giving him more motivation to mar your skin. Even now the traces were there, nasty and crude. Tracing a few fingers around your throat, you felt the raging pulse point becoming heavier and heavier, as if it was getting ready to pop and burst right in this dingy alley.
If it were not for the sounds of gunfire, you would have believed that your own heart was going to betray you. There was no way that no one was hearing this, the sheer intensity so strong and dizzying. Hot white pain seeped into your lungs and quickly made its way into your veins, chaining you onto the ground.
That's easy prey, you suddenly heard his voice in your head.
The second they're too scared to move, well I'll be fudged, that's when you shoot pumpkin'.
And you had quietly agreed with him on that summer eve. You could still recall how he hid you both beneath some bushes as he went to scavenge some food for you, showing you some tips and tricks along the way. You could recall the way the thorny bushes had wounded you, pricking the soft flesh of your arms, fresh droplets of blood coating the mostly dry ground.
It hasn't rained in ages on that planet, if you recall correctly.
Rain. What you would give for the fresh scent of the rain. The harsh droplets would mask the yelling, the roaring thunder could perhaps comfort you in some odd way.
And just like that, you wish had come true.
A single piece of evening dew feel on your cheek, the liquid oddly warmer than it ought to be.
You could not be bothered to care.
Closing your eyes, you decided to bask in the first moments of glorious freedom you had managed to steal for yourself.
Boothill had taught you well, ironically enough.
There would be no more yelling, no more loud gun fights, no more long distance traveling. No more needy Galaxy Ranger who wanted you to pay constant attention to him 24/7. You already knew where you wanted to settle somewhere, a quiet and quaint place, a place oozing with peace and serenity.
Much like this dumpster, but a lot more pleasing to the senses.
The streets were quiet and the only sound that could be heard was the music in the distance, a sound so hauntingly pleasant that it made you feel -
Quiet.
Why had it gone quiet?
Like a phantom he emerged from the shadows, his all too familiar silhouette taking over the entire alleyway. His footsteps were slow, methodic. Well calculated.
And like a true phantom, he never left you alone.
His presence was dark and imposing, testing out the waters to see whether or not you were going to come out on your own or if he had to get his hands dirty.
However, he did not give you the luxury of thinking.
"Found ya." he said through gritted teeth, his red eyes gleaming like stars in the night.
Stars you would have a hard time looking the same ever again.
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kazwritesthings · 4 months ago
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your smile
peeta mellark x fem! reader
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summary: peeta mellark has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. yet not once has he ever mentioned the dark haired girl he is now claiming to be in love with. did you read his signals wrong? did he not trust you enough to tell you about his crush? more importantly, why do some of the stories he’s telling about her sound… oddly familiar?
word count: 8.1k (yikes)
(note: hello!! i haven’t written in yearssss so please be nice about any spelling or grammar errors you find lol)
_________________
you've had three near death experiences in your lifetime.
the first was when peeta's older brother, jayce, had taken you out to the lake not too far from the edge of district 12. he had been bragging about how beautiful the ice looked early in the morning to try and make little peeta jealous since he wasn't allowed to go see it. being the stubborn thing you were, you bribed him to take you and peeta with him one morning. you were only tiny, barely 6 years old, so even though he caught you before you fell completely through a cracked section of the ice, it was enough to soak you up to your waist. you developed a terrible fever that you only survived because your mother sold most of her belongings to pay for the best doctor she could.
the second near death experience you had was when you were a little older. when you were 11, you had wanted to explore the woods past the fence on the outskirts of 12. you'd tried to convince peeta to come with you, but he did want to get in trouble. you didn't make it very far anyway since you fell backwards when you tried to climb the first tree you came across . your head landed inches away from a large rock which definitely would have caved your skull in had you landed on it. luckily you escaped with a bruised butt and even more bruised ego.
as for the third near death experience... you're living through it now
"the male tribute for the 74th hunger games is... peeta mellark!"
physically, you’re fine. your name wasn’t called; you get to go home once this is all over. but your soul. your other half isn’t so lucky.
hot tears stream down your face as you watch peeta make his way through the crowd of boys. you look around at his brothers, praying above anything that one of them would volunteer for him, take his place like the female tribute had done for her sister moments ago. but when you see them, their faces are solum, staring at the floor as peeta walks past their rows.
peeta looks as shellshocked as you feel as he walks up the stairs and stands next to the woman with the crazy outfit and weird hat. his eyes dart around the crowd of girls until they land on you. you’ve never seen him look so scared before, and it causes you to cry harder.
“go on! shake hands!” the crazy capitol lady says, moving out the way so peeta and the other girl, katniss, can do as she says. peeta is barely able to rip his eyes off you when he does, still staring out into the crowd when he takes katniss’ calloused hand into his own.
you don’t really register what happens next, your brain foggy with the hellish news that’s just been forced upon you. before you know it, your stood outside a room in the town hall, waiting for peeta’s family to say goodbye. the heat of anger you had directed at his brothers has cooled to an almost debilitating fear. all you can taste is blood from biting the inside of your cheek to try and calm yourself - it doesn’t work.
after five minuets, the peacekeeper next to the door opens it and calls that their time with peeta is up. he then turns to you and nods his head towards the door. you push past his mother in your rush to get to him, making her curse at you under her breath. she never liked you, calling you a bad influence on peeta, but you never really cared.
you stand across the room from him, waiting until the door shuts behind you and you can finally be alone. peetas eyes are red as if he has been crying, yet his face is dry. it’s clear he’s been holding back his tears, letting them build up like a dam moments from bursting. the damn breaks the second he sees you.
“y/n,” peeta mutters, his entire body collapsing in on itself. he would have fallen to the floor if you hadn’t ran to him in time. your arms wrap around his waist to hold him up while his loop around your neck, pulling you to him faster and closer than he ever has before. his tears are hot against your neck, soaking into your one nice shirt. you don’t care.
“oh god… this isn’t fair” you cry into his neck, trying your best to hold yourself together. one of you needs to be strong, and it definitely shouldn’t be peeta right now.
and yet it is. he pulls away and takes you by the shoulders. his big brown eyes, always so warm and full of life, have grown sad and watery. you hate it.
“you’ll be okay. i made my brothers swear that they’ll look after you and your mom when i’m gone, discounted bread and everything. mother wasn’t happy about it but i made it my dying request” his chuckle has your blood boiling because of how calm he sounds. how accepting he sounds.
you slap him gently on the shoulder, glaring up at him with a look that usually has him taking back his teasing jokes. “shut the fuck up, peeta. you’re not dying in there. you’re strong, the strongest person i know,” you hiss, slapping him again when he rolls his eyes.
“y/n it’s no use-” he starts, but you’re quick to cut him off.
“yes it is! you’re strong, so you could wrestle any of the other tributes if it comes to it. you’re charming, so you can win sponsors before you go in and make allies with other strong tributes. and i’ll work my ass off out here so i can send you things when you need,” you ramble, squeezing his hands on your shoulder as you try to think.
“y/n i’m not making it out,” peeta tries to cut you off, which is what finally pushes you off the edge.
“STOP SAYING THAT!” you yell, cutting off his depressing words. he stares at you, surprised. you very rarely raise your voice, let alone at him. “you can’t give up before you’ve gone in! you can’t…” your voice cracks before it trails off. you begin to cry again, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as you hold onto him again. “i can’t lose you.”
the room is silent for a moment, the only sound being the muffled voices coming from next door where you can only assume katniss is saying goodbye to her family. it is broken again by peeta’s gentle voice.
“did i ever tell you how beautiful you are?” he mutters against your ear, sending shockwaves down your spine. your head shoots back to look him in the eyes, your mind suddenly blank.
“w…what?” you stutter breathlessly, not sure you heard him right.
peeta gives you a smile you’ve only ever seen him aim at you. it’s fond and warm, with an unspoken, uncertain glint in his eyes. he opens his mouth, to repeat himself or explain himself you don’t get to find out. the peacekeeper that was outside barges in and storms across the room faster than you can think.
his hand roughly grips your arm and drags you away from peeta. panic floods you as you yell and reach out for peeta. “no! no! i need more time! please!” you scream, your fingers barely linked in peeta’s before you’re violently pulled apart.
“hey! let her go,” peeta tries to run after you, yelling at the peacekeeper who is dragging you across the room, but is stopped by another peacekeeper grabbing his shoulder and throwing him backwards.
everything is happening too fast. there was so much more you had to say to him, do with him. this was never the way you wanted to tell him, yet this may be the last chance you will ever have.
“peeta! peeta i love you!” you call as the peacekeeper gives you one final push and throws you out of the room. you stumble into the chest of one of his brothers, and quickly spin around to get one final look at him.
for a moment, the colour is back in his face. his eyes are bright in the way they used to be, crinkled in the corner as he smiles at you again.
“y/n i-” a door slams in your face, cutting peeta off and leaving you a husk of your former self.
——————
the following days are agony. peeta’s brothers kept their word, checking in on you once a day with a loaf of your favourite bread. you mainily spent your days helping your mother at her stall in the hob or picking up little jobs wherever you can to put towards helping peeta.
the only time you felt any semblance or relief was when peeta was on the television. your heart soared when you saw him in the chariot during the opening ceremony. he looked so different: his usually messy hair slicked back, dark makeup around his eyes and a black suit that’s literally on fire making you wince out of nervousness for him. he looks incredible. and so does katniss next to him.
you can’t help but frown when you see him reach for her hand and hold them in the air. it’s stupid to be possessive over him at a time like this, yet you can’t help it. its a gross, sticky sensation that claws at your chest and stops you from fully filling your lungs with air. and it only gets worse with time.
you don’t see peeta for a while since the tributes have started their training, so you continue working in the hob. people give you saddened looks when you walk past them in the streets, since anyone who had visited the bakery at least once would have known how close the two of you are. it is probably why you’ve been able to find so many tasks and errands to do over the past few days. people pity you.
you and your mother watch the training scores together, cheering out of joy when you see peeta receive an 8. it’s high enough that sponsors will notice him yet low enough for the careers to not see him as a threat. it takes the weight off your shoulders for a moment.
the days continue to drag by until it’s the day before the games begin, meaning it’s interview day. the only thing that’s been keeping you going is the fact that you get to hear his voice, see him properly speak today. there aren’t enough words in the english language to describe how difficult it is to go from being with the person you love all day, every day, to not being able to see him at all.
your skin tingles with nerves as you take a seat at your kitchen table and turn on the interviews. most go by slowly, the tributes all doing their best to make themselves stand out and more likeable. your heart bleeds for the young girl from district 11, rue.
katniss does amazing in her interview. while she is very clearly nervous, she’s able to make people laugh at her accidental jokes, cry at her love for her sister and awe at her beautiful dress that bursts into flames. you had only briefly spoken to her before, a word or two when you would buy game from her. still, you are proud of her for doing well.
peeta does even better. he’s just as charming as you knew he would be, maybe even more. he cracks jokes left and right making you grin.
when laughter calms down, the host ceaser flickerman, gives him a serious look that he jokingly mimics.
“now peeta, tell me. is there a special girl waiting for you at home?” ceaser asks. my heart pounds in my chest as i wait for his answer.
peeta opens his mouth to speak when he pauses. a look of sadness appears on his face for a moment and disappears even faster. the only reason why you’re able to catch it is because you’ve spent years analysing every face he’s ever made.
“well… there’s this one girl that i’ve had a crush on forever,” peeta says shyly.
your breath hitches. could he be talking about you? he looked happy when you said you loved him. you bite your lip anxiously, curling your legs into your chest.
ceaser grins, showing off his overly white teeth. “ahh… i’ll tell you what, peeta. you go out there and you win this thing. when you get home she’ll have to go out with you”
once again, peeta’s face changes for a fraction of a second. for just a moment, he smiles. he smiles your smile. the one he reserves for you and you only. it makes you heart lurch and a smile appear on your face.
your smile disappears off his face as fast as it came, and your nerves return.
“thanks, but i don’t think winnings gonna help me at all” he mutters, looking away from ceaser and the audience.
ceaser frowns, his tanned skin folding until it looks like crumpled orange peel. “why not?”
peeta takes a deep breath before speaking.
“because she came here with me.”
oh
you feel like the floor has disappeared underneath you, and you’re free falling into darkness. your chest burns with every breath you take. there’s a ringing in your hears that you’ve never heard before, and all you can think about is… how?
is there any way that you could have missed that? not once had peeta ever spoken about katniss, in the romantic sense or otherwise. sure, he’d come with you to buy game from her occasionally, but that’s the only time you’d ever seen them interact. could it be possible that he just didn’t tell you?
you don’t even realise that you’re crying until your mom reaches over and wipes your tears. you choke back a sob as your grip the table tightly, blurry vision fixed on the screen. you need to know more.
the look ceaser gives him makes my skin crawl. a look of pity that’s clear to anyone who has eyes. “ahh. well that’s bad luck.”
peeta nods, and looks back at ceaser. “yea it is. i’ve liked her for as long as i can remember,” he smiles fondly, a far off look in his eyes. it makes you want to scream.
“would you mind telling me when you first started liking her?” ceaser asks, leaning closer to peeta as he begins to push the conversation further than you want to hear.
another micro expression that only you could see flashes on his face. panic.
he quickly covers it and nods, sitting up in the chair uncomfortably. “uh yea. we were both in school together. one time in class our teacher asked if anyone knew the valley song, and she raised her hand so fast,” he laughs, covering his face slightly to hide a blush that was slowly growing on his cheeks.
ceaser laughs in a way that you can’t tell his happy or sad. “and i’m guessing that this girl,” he looks knowingly at the audience, “was a good singer, no?”
“the best,” peeta nods, the blush reaching up to his ears and down his neck now. “i’ve gotta admit something kinda weird. i watched her go home every day after that. i was desperate to get closer to her.”
that’s throws your for a loop and sends your mind spinning even more. you and peeta walked home together every day since you first began school. there is no way you could have missed him watching her, right? your head throbs with unanswered questions and more emotions than you can comprehend. you shut off interview when you realise that peeta is finished, walking past your mom to your bedroom.
you cry yourself to sleep that night. not just because of what you witnessed today, but because it may just be the last night that the love of your life is also alive.
——————
you could count on one hand the amount of times that you have watched the hunger games from start to finish. you’d never had much of a stomach for violence in the first place, but you had to stomach it to make sure that peeta was still alive.
it was easy to push down your messed up feelings about peeta and katniss when all you were focusing on whether he was alive or not. you watched as peeta joined the careers, only to betray them and get attacked by cato. you were nearly inconsolable when he was injured and forced to hide out by the river. you were so scared for him that you didn’t sleep until they finally showed him being reunited with katniss.
you had never been so relieved when they announced that two victors from the same district could win. katniss obviously was attached to peeta, so she’d do anything to keep him alive so that they could win together.
you were grateful beyond words to her for looking after him. she cleaned his wound to the best of her ability and hid him in a cave. however, this is when it started to become harder to ignore the ache in your chest when you see them together.
the longer they spent together the more your heart hurt. you tried to distract yourself by working, yet you couldn’t get the image of them in the cave out of your mind. the only good thing that came about because of your work is that you finally had made enough to send peeta some medicine.
after collecting all the money you had, you ran to the town centre. you quickly filled out the application on what you wanted to send him and gave them everything you had. originally you had been saving the money to one day buy a cow that you could sell milk with. peeta was more important than that.
when you arrive at the section of the form that allows you to write a message to your chosen tribute, you feel slightly stumped. this may be the last thing you get the chance to say to him. you wrack your brain for something to say, but all that comes to your head is the lyrics to your favourite song. it makes you smile. they sum up how you feel about him perfectly, so you scribble down the words as quickly as you can.
once you finished the form and handed him the money the peacekeeper said that the medicine should be sent shortly, so you rush back home as fast as you can.
you arrive back just in time to see a parachute land just outside of the cave. katniss walks over and opens it, frowning when she sees the message that you had written for peeta inside. anger bubbles up inside you when she frowns. what the hell is her problem?
you watch as she walks inside and holds out the pot.
“someone sent you medicine,” she tells him, kneeling by his side.
“oh really? who?” peeta shuffles to sit up slightly, wincing as the pain flares in his leg.
you sit with baited breath, waiting for her to tell him the truth.
“haymitch,” is all she says as she begins to gently apply it to his leg.
the anger from before simmers up into a white hot rage. how fucking dare she. who the fuck does she think she is? katniss must recognise your name, she has to know how close you two are. why wouldn’t she tell him?
you smack the table in front of you, tears flooding your vision as someone else takes credit for your effort. however you pause when you look back at the screen, your bottom lip wobbling. the relief that spreads across peeta’s face forces you to take a deep breath. he got the help that he needed, and you were able to give that to him. that’s all that matters.
a few tears escape from your eyes as you watch the two of them. there’s an aching in your chest that you can’t seem to escape from, one that’s separate from the jealousy you’re feeling. a nagging sensation, like you’re missing something.
“why are you doing this?” peeta asks, staring up at her with his big eyes that make you swoon every time you see them, and he knows that. you hate that he’s using them on her.
“you helped me once,” katniss responds.
a silence lingers over them for a moment before peeta practically bursts to life. “i think about that day all the time how i tossed you that bread.”
“peeta,” katniss sighs.
“i should have gone to you. i should have just gone out in the rain and…” he trails off, using those big eyes of his to wear down her defences. and it works. she leans down and kisses him softly, cupping his face in her hands.
you hate how you look away from the screen. the amazing mic quality picks up on the sound of their lips locking together so there’s no escaping what they’re doing in front of the entire country.
everything makes sense now. you remember peeta telling you about the time that he burnt bread to feed katniss. he never mentioned it again, so you assumed at the time that it didn’t mean anything. how wrong you were.
when she pulls away from him, peeta begins to mumble. “i remember one time i followed you into the woods. i was terrified of getting in trouble, but i was so desperate to keep an eye on you. i watched as you climbed a tree not too far from the edge, then watched as you fell like fifteen feet to the ground when one of the branches snapped. i was so scared for you… but you stood up and carried on like nothing had happened. that’s the first time i saw how strong you are,” he smiles softly up at her.
you frown again, a small voice nagging in the back of your mind. he followed her to the woods. the only time you went, you had begged him to come with you and he had refused. yet he went with her? it made bile rise to your throat. when you finally look back at the screen, what you see breaks you.
your smile. being aimed at her.
you turn the screen off and it stays off for the rest of the night.
——————
“attention. attention, tributes. there has been a slight rule change. the previous revision, allowing for two victors from the same district, has been revoked. only one victor may be crowned. good luck. and may the odds be ever in your favour.”
only moments ago you had been crying tears of joy. peeta and katniss had made it. they were coming home. he was coming home.
not anymore it seems.
a terrifying sound echoes throughout your kitchen, and it takes a moment for you to realise that the sound is coming from you. desperate, wet sobs wrack your body as you dig your nails into your wooden table in front to ground yourself. you watch, horrified, as katniss takes out the nightlock berries from earlier. are you really about to see the love of your life kill himself on live television, just so that he doesn't have to live without the love of his?
your body is numb, eyes glassy, tears and snot running down your face as you watch them stand inches from each other, raising the poison to their lips. you don't realise it but your mother is gently running her hands along your back to try and calm you, it clearly having no effect.
you look at those eyes. that smile that he has on his face as he raises the berries. it's your smile again. it makes you wonder, just for a moment, if you could be his last thought.
"stop! stop! ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners of the of the 74th annual hunger games," a voice booms loud and clear over the speaker.
air floods your lungs once more, and you can breath again. he's coming home. your peeta is coming home.
you choke out a laugh, reaching over to hug your mom tighter than you ever have before. the two of you laugh and scream in delight, and everything is right in the world again.
when you finally let go, you turn back to look at the screen. peeta and katniss are locked in an embrace similar to the one the two of you had shared just before he had left. and once again, your smile is on his face, aimed at her.
he is coming home. but he might not be yours anymore.
——————
its another week of interviews and celebrations before peeta and katniss are finally on their way home. on the way to the capitol, peeta couldn't really pay attention to much other than the look on your face when you told him that you loved him. he wasted so many years being terrified that you didn't feel the same way, only to find out days before he died that he had a chance after all.
now that he's on his way home, he doesn't plan on wasting anymore time.
he has to admit, his idea was a stroke of genius. when he first brought up the idea of pretending to be in love to receive sponsors, katniss had laughed in his face. she refused to be seen as weak, and didn't want to spend what could be her last days alive pretending to be someone she wasn't. haymitch, on the other hand, loved it.
as much as he hates to admit it, pretending to be in love with katniss came to him easier than he was expecting it to be. it was a thousand times easier since he was already in love. with you.
every time he had to talk to her, about her; when he had to hold her or kiss her, he was always picturing you. even the stories he told, the ones about the woods and the valley song. they were some of his favourite memories with you.
he had warned katniss before they went in how he felt about you, and she was more than happy to be a place for him to project his feelings for you as long as it kept them both alive. and it did.
he had just hoped that you had been able to see through the stories he was telling and understand that none of it was real, that it was all an illusion to keep them alive. and he'd never forget the sense of relief he felt what katniss showed him the message you had sent him along with the medicine.
"roses are red, love, violets are blue. birds in the heavens know i love you." - y/n
it was the lyrics to your favourite song. the valley song. you knew he was waiting for you.
——————
you waited with baited breath as the train pulls into the station. the crowd of people surrounding waiting with you are honestly pissing you off. they didn't care about peeta before they left for the games, so why are you having to fight your way through strangers to get to him now?
it's only when the doors to the train open and he finally steps onto the platform that you feel alive again. he looks the same as he did the day he left you, and it takes your breath away. the crowd erupts in applause as he takes katniss' hand and holds it in the air, the same way that he did in the opening ceremony. your breath hitches when you remember that he isn't yours anymore. it has slipped your mind in the excitement of getting to see him. a deep heat spreads from your chest down to your stomach, and you feel like you might throw up.
that's when your eyes meet his. and time stands still. for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, he smiles at you. he gives you your katniss' smile, and for a moment everything is okay again.
peeta and katniss are ushered off the platform before you get a chance to do more than stare at him. as they rush off you begin to push your way out of the crowd. you push past katniss' family, prim and her mother and her best friend gale. they give you a small smile as you pass, one that you return tenfold. nothing can bring you down in this moment. despite the fact that peeta isn't yours anymore, he's alive. it will take some time to adjust, but you can learn to live with that. as long as he's okay.
——————
scratch that. this fucking sucks.
not once have you ever been nervous to see peeta. despite the fact that you're hopelessly in love with him, talking to him always came easy. but now that you're stood here in front of him, who you can only assume his girlfriend stood feet away, and it's like you fell out of that tree all over again. you're winded despite the fact that nothing hit you. you can't catch your breath despite how hard you inhale.
you don't even know how you got here. one moment you were at home, the next peeta's brother was dragging you here, throwing you in and shutting the door behind him with a smile on your face that you completely didn't trust.
you try to focus on him and this moment, but all you can see is the room you're in. peeta's new house in victors village is more grand than anywhere you've been before. the each of the rooms are at least the size of your entire house with enough space to fit everything from your mothers stall at the hob tenfold. you wonder what peeta is going to use the space for since he doesn't have many possessions.
you're able to snap out of it seconds before he reaches you. everything feels like its stuck in fast-forward as his arms loop around your waist and pull you straight into his chest. despite his jokes in the interviews before the games, he smells the same. somehow he still smells like flour and that scent that you can't place that's just so him.
"hey," he whispers in your ear, and it feels like you are hearing his voice for the first time ever. it breaks something inside of you that has your knees buckling and your eyes watering.
"i told you you could win," you whisper back, seconds away from breaking down. he barks a laugh that has you choking back a sob. your hands shake as you grip onto his shirt, desperate to pull him closer to you. he's here. he's really here.
"you're really going to have the first thing you say to me be 'i told you so?'" peeta laughs, pulling back so he can look you in the eyes. he holds your cheek in his hand as he scans your face. you feel exposed in a way you never have before, and it makes you blush.
someone else in the room laughs at his joke too, and you're instantly aware of how bad this looks. you pull out of his grasp as fast as he pulled you into it, your eyes flickering to where the laughter came from. of course, it was his girlfriend.
you've never felt so embarrassed in your life. here you are getting all touchy feely with him when his girlfriend, the reason he is still alive, is standing right next to you. you cough awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck as you let out a nervous laugh.
"yea, well you know me. i'd never pass up a chance to say it, especially since you're always wrong" you laugh, looking anywhere but him. if you had been you would have seen the confusion, and the hurt, written on his face as clear as day.
you turn to katniss and fight back anger rising when you remember how she had hid the message you had sent him with the medicine. she had let their mentor take credit for your entire life savings. but she had also looked after him and saved his life more times than you can count. it's a debt you'll never be able to repay.
as quickly as peeta ran to you, you ran to her. you hugged her tightly, surprising everyone in the room.
"thank you for keeping him alive," you say, surprising her even more.
katniss hesitantly wraps her arms around you in response. she's clearly confused, though you're not too sure why. "y-you're welcome. he saved me too," she responds and you fight back a wince.
once you let her go, you look back and forth between the two. you suppose there is a way that you can repay the debt you owe her. you can let him go.
you sniffle and wipe your eyes with the back of your sleeve. "i suppose i should let you two get comfortable in your new house! it's really nice," you look around the room, avoiding not only peeta's gaze, but katniss' as well.
quickly, you walk back over and give him another hug. "i've got to get back to work, but i'll see you later, okay?" the smile you give him doesn't reach your eyes, and he can see that.
"hey, wait-" peeta goes to call after you, but it's too late. you're already out the door and off into the cool evening air of district 12.
——————
why are you doing this?
you'd spent every waking moment while he was in the capitol wishing that peeta was by your side. yet here you are, running between your mother's stall and your home just to avoid seeing him. every time you start to question yourself, you get a flash of them in the cave. he deserves to be happy, and if katniss makes him happy, then you'll step back.
it's pathetic honestly. running between houses, hiding behind walls every time you go out just so you won't accidentally run into him. the only time you've ever been grateful for how small your house is was the other day when you jumped out the window to avoid him when he dropped by to see you. you hid by the the side of the house until you saw him walk away and deemed it safe to climb back inside.
your mother isn't happy with you. she says your punishing him for something that wasn't his fault. but you're not punishing him. you're trying to help him.
you press yourself against the cool painted wall of one of the buildings near the hob. the good thing about peeta being famous now is that wherever he goes, chatter follows him, which is usually enough to warn you that he's nearby.
it's not enough today though. just as you're about to make a run for it to the next building, a firm hand grips your upper forearm. without looking you know who it is, and you flinch. there is no way you can possibly talk your way out of this.
you slowly turn to face peeta. the look on his face stops your heart and kills any excuses you had on your tongue. he looks just as pale as the day that his name was called on that stage. his brows are furrowed, and a heartbreaking frown pulls down his face. he looks older like this, so much like his mother that it puts you on edge more than you already had been.
"hey peet. what's wrong?" you ask once you finally get your breath back.
without a word, peeta turns and pulls you off of the wall and down the street the way that you had just came from. anxiety builds in your stomach. part of the reason why you'd avoided him for as long as you have was to put off the conversation on why you're avoiding him in the first place. the urge to rip your arm out of his grasp and flee to the woods and spend the rest of your days living in a tree consumes you. but he deserves more than that.
by the time you arrive at peeta's new house in victors village, the humiliation that comes with your recent actions had finally sunk in. you walk into his house with your head hanging low; if you had a tail it defiantly would be between your legs.
the two of you stop in his kitchen. its uncomfortably quiet since victors village is so separate from the rest of the district. you're not used to this level of silence, especially when your with peeta.
"peet?" you hesitantly call his name. he's not facing you. instead, he's bent over a table, his palms pressed flat against the wood with his back facing you.
"i don't understand," his voice comes out quiet, hoarse. has he been crying?
you take a hesitant step towards him, your hand hanging in the air as you debate reaching out to touch his back. "you don't understand what?"
your words seem to have woken something in him. he spins around so fast scares you. he doesn't look like his mother anymore, but the doesn't mean he looks any less angry.
"i don't understand you. i don't get it. you tell me you love me, then you ignore me for a week?" he hisses. you'd heard peeta get angry before, but it had never been aimed at you. you flinch when he yells, but then you register what he said.
"i thought i was helping you adjust to your new life," you frown, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you look at him. you knew he would be angry at you for avoiding him, but you didn't think he'd bring up what you said before he went to the games.
peeta scoffs and leans back against the table. "how the hell would that help me? and what do you mean my new life?"
"your new life with katniss," you say like its the most obvious thing in the world.
that is clearly not what he was expecting. it's almost like his body does a full reset. his face relaxes into neutral and his body relaxes so he's sat on the table.
"what does katniss have to this?" he asks, confused.
you tilt your head at his question. "well... i assume that you and katniss are going to be together now, and i thought that you would't want to be around someone who has a crush... who is in love with you while you have a girlfriend. so i gave you some space," you explain.
just like his first ever interview, micro expressions flash across his face, except this time they pass too fast for you to clearly work out what they are. he falls back to neutral, but this time his eyes are softer.
"i thought you understood... the parachute letter..." he trails off.
it's your turn to be surprised now. "you knew about that? i thought katniss told you haymitch sent the medicine."
peeta lets out a laugh, and you swear your knees could give in there and then. the atmosphere in the room is different now and you can't place it. its not as soft as it was when he first told you that you were beautiful, nor is it as tense as it was when you were reunited.
"that was just for the camera's, she showed me the card later. haymitch said that it wouldn't be a good idea to let the capitol know that i had someone waiting at home for me when i'm supposed to be in love with my fellow tribute," peeta takes a step towards you, a fond smile spreading across his face.
his words make you pause as you look at him confused. you blink slowly as you try to absorb what he just said.
"wait... what do you mean 'supposed to be?'" you breath out.
peeta pulls a face that this time you recognise, mainly because you've been on the receiving end more times than you would like to admit. it's a fond look, one that you would give a cat runs into a wall while playing with a laser or a child when it falls over doing something you told it not to do. it's his nice way of telling you that you're being an idiot.
he slowly reaches up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "did you really think that after hearing the girl i've hopelessly pined over for my entire life say that she loves me i would turn around and date someone else? let alone someone who i'd interactd with maybe three times maximum."
his touch sends a spark that shoots through the rest of your body, setting you ablaze. you're still confused beyond belief, but your heart feels like it might burst. did you really hear that right?
"y... you what? your whole life?" you sound no better than a toddler learning to speak, and it makes peeta laugh once again.
you shake your head in attempt to clear your mind and get your thoughts in order. "i don't understand. you told those stories about when you first saw katniss and when you started liking her? the bread, peeta! i remember you telling me about the bread!" you ramble, stepping back slightly to get a better look at him. you're so all over the place that you barely hear his reponse.
"well, yes. the bread thing actually happened. so did everything else, to be completely truthful. but they didn't happen with katniss. i was talking about you," he grins, taking another step closer and reaching out to take your hand in his. "i mean seriously. how did you not realise i was talking about you? do you not remember singing the valley song when we were little? and when i said i watched 'her'," he uses air quotes around the word, "walk home every day after that. i did! i watched you walk home because i would walk you to your house! every single time i had to kiss her, touch her, god even just look at her... i was thinking of you," he sounds exasperated by the time he finishes.
you feel like smacking yourself in the face. that's why the story felt so familiar and why you had that nagging feeling in the back of your mind. you remember it so clearly now you feel like you could scream. your first day of the first grade. you had been incredibly nervous up until the moment that the teacher asked if anyone knew the valley song. it was your fathers favourite song to sing to you before he passed away, so your hand immediately shot up. singing your father's favourite song instantly calmed you down, and it had been your favourite ever since. you used to sing it to peeta when he would come to you crying after an especially harsh beating from his mother.
your entire body slumps as the embarrassment you were feeling returns tenfold. "oh."
peeta grins at you and it's so bright you can hardly stand to look at it. "oh," he repeats. he gives you a few more moments to collect your thoughts before he continues. "i though you had realised that i was talking about you when you sent me the lyrics to the valley song with the medicine."
the urge to slap yourself silly comes back so hard that your hand twitches at your side. "oh," you say again, closing your eyes and grimace.
"why did you send the lyrics then? it's clear now that you didn't catch on to what i was trying to say, so why?"
your silence has peeta taking another step towards you. he slowly reaches up to cup your cheek and gently nudge your face up to look at him. his brows are raised curiously, but his eyes are as patent as always. and that smile. that fucking smile. he gave it to katniss so many times in the arena because he was thinking about you. it was never hers, in the same was he wasn't. the thought alone has your knees moments away from buckling. almost as if he can tell, his free arm snakes around your waist and pulls you against him. his grip is featherlight, yet you've never felt so secure.
you lean into his touch as you speak, relaxing in his hold for the first time since before his name was reaped.
"i didn't know what to say at first. it felt like the only right thing to say. it's what i would sing to you when you were in pain, and i can't even begin to imagine the amount of pain you were in when you were in the arena. also, the lyrics summarise how i feel about you pretty well," you trail off at the end, suddenly feeling shy once more. your eyes wander away from him, only for peeta to draw them straight back by guiding your face once more.
he looks moments away from crying, bottom lip trembling as he leans his forehead down against yours. the two of you stand there for a moment, bodies pressed against each other so hard that each can feel the others heartbeat pounding against their chest. your hands hesitantly trail up until one is holding the hand against your face and the other rests on his arm.
“you know, i never actually heard your response to me telling you that i love you,” you mutter, your eyes darting back and forth between his eyes and his lips. the tension in the room is so thick you are about to choke on it.
a tear slip from from his eye as he lets out a wet laugh. “if you think there is any way that you could say things like that and i wouldn’t fall head over heels in love with you then you’re crazy. i love you y/n,” the words flow out of him so smoothly that it’s almost like he’s told you this a million times before. it feels so right that it pushes you to do something you have always wanted to; always been to scared to do.
it’s horrifyingly cliche, but the moment you push forward and press your lips to his, fireworks explode throughout your body, setting you alight like peeta had been in the opening ceremony. he pushes back against you just as intensely, the desperation he's feeling as clear through the kiss.
time slips away as you kiss your best friend, the two of you only parting when you run out of air. you pull away slowly, heart leaping when peeta's lips chase yours to give you another short kiss before backing away.
you both stand still, foreheads pressed against one another as you process what just happened. a breathy laugh escapes peeta as he gently rub a thumb against your cheek.
"we could have done that a week ago if you hadn't been so insistent with avoiding me," he laughs. you groan and shake your head.
"i was upset! i thought you had gone after another girl days after i told you that i loved you!" you whine.
"i had to do it! it save my life, didn't it?"
"i guess so, but-" you go to joke back, but peeta shuts you up with a kiss that wipes your mind of anything you were about to say.
when he pulls back he laughs at the stunned look on your face. "i'm going to look forward to shutting you up like that," he teases, snapping you out of the trance he had put you in enough for you to slap his arm.
"shut up!"
he laughs again, pulling you into a tight hug. the two of you rock back and forth. a peace that you have never felt before fills you, and for a moment you wonder if you're dreaming.
"what are you and katniss going to do about the capitol? they believe you're in love," you speak before you think, and you're terrified that you've broken the bubble that the two of had been living in. peeta tenses for a moment before leaning his head against yours.
"i don't know. but whatever happens, i'm not leaving you. never again," he whispers, his breath tingling across your forehead. you can feel his lips against your skin, and without even looking you can tell he's smiling your smile.
you relax back into him, smiling harder than you ever have before. your peeta made it home. and he'd never going to leave you again.
——————
thank you so much for reading!! i can't work out if i like the ending or not, but still i'm pretty happy with this considering i haven't written in years!!
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jarofstyles · 6 months ago
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Juno
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Based off of the song Juno, I tried my hand at writing song inspired one shots again! this one is filthy but I hope you guys enjoy it anyways.
Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive works (sign up on your browser and not the iOS app to save fees!)
WC- 3.5k
Warnings- heavy breeding kink, cum play, soft dom H, slight restraining, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up yall)
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It had been a long fucking day.
Being the boss wasn't for the weak, apparently. Harry had been through the ringer today especially. People unable to communicate, an overly long and exastrubsating meeting, having to terminate an employee, all of it had made him itchy for the day to end- only for him to have to stay late to fix a problem. He had felt guilty texting his girlfriend that he was going to be home late, telling her his day had been a bit hellish.
Thankfully, he had been blessed with one of the most incredible women in the world, who assured him she was fine, not to worry about her and she would see him when he got home- but he hadn’t expected just an incredible sight to greet him as he opened the bedroom door.
It was like a vision he’d see in the most incredible of dreams.
Y/N was stretched out on the bed, her head propped up on a pile of pillows. She was wearing a tiny, frilly pink babydoll nightgown that barely covered her assets and showed off her legs- god, her fucking legs. The delicate fabric shimmered in the soft lighting, catching Harry's eye and drawing his gaze downward. Dragging his eyes down the perfectly wrapped present, he counted every single one of his blessings.
“Hi.” She spoke softly, clambering up to her knees and crawling to the end of the bed. “I missed you today, H.”
Harry's heart skipped a beat as he watched her crawl towards him, his eyes taking in the delicate nightgown that flowed over her curves in all the right places, riding up her thighs as she sat on her knees waiting for him. He felt a surge of love wash over him, his exhaustion melting away at the sight of her. Crossing the room in long strides, he met her at the end of the bed. "I missed you too, baby," He murmured. “What’s all this, hm?”
“I got a package today. This was what was in it.” She shrugged, running her hand down her waist to show it off. “I figured you had a rough day, but you like when you see the pretty things I buy. I thought…. Maybe this would make you happy.” Her hands ran over his chest, peering up at him through her lashes. “I wanted to make you happy. I love you so much.”
His eyes softened, warmth spreading through his chest as he took in her words. She really had no idea how much she affected him, how much he absolutely adored her. Reaching out, his fingers brushing against the delicate, shimmery fabric, slowly running it up her thighs until it bunched around her waist. "It makes me very happy, my sweet girl." He murmured, his voice raspy as he took in the sight of her bare hips and thighs. "Come here." Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he urged her to straddle his lap, which she did without complaint.
“I know it’s hard to be the boss all day.” Her voice was silky as she ran her finger through his hair, the gel keeping it back having failed hours ago. The man looked slightly disheveled, and that did something to her. “I know you need to come home and have a soft place to land. You’re so good to me. I brag about you to my friends all the time. About everything.” Even the not so appropriate bits. She couldn’t help it! “I want to be the one to help you make your fantasies come true. You pay the bills here, so…” Shrugging her shoulders, she bit down on her glossy lip. “I figured I’d give you something pretty to come home to.”
Harry's large hands palmed her ass, squeezing lightly as she straddled him, her warmth pressing against him. Her words, her kindness, her thoughtfulness, it all made him want to be a better man. She was the soft place he landed every day, his happy place. He leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed as her fingers combed through his disheveled hair. “You are… incredible. Fuck me. Can’t believe you’re real.”
“Do you like it?” Pressing her lips to the corner of his, she hooked her finger in his shirt and tugged the half undone tie to the ground. “What I put on for you? I know you like to say M’your little angel. Figured this was a little angelic for you.”
He growled softly in approval, his hands tightening on her ass as her fingers made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt. "It's perfect, just like you." He sighed, his voice hoarse with the amount he had yelled today, and his desire for the girl on his lap. His hands roamed over her curves, his touch gentle but greedy. The man could never get enough of her. He loved how she would let him have his way with her, no matter what he desired. Nothing and no one could compare to how she made him feel, playing into every base level instinct he had. "My little angel... Dressed like that... S’almost unfair."
Y/N let out a giggle, loving the effect she had on him. Knowing he was such a powerful man and yet he had a weakness in her was more arousing than she could have prepared herself for. She loved being his soft spot, his little angel. “It is fair, though. I wore it just for you. And I decided…” This was the part she had been nervous about all day. The decision she had made. She wanted him to lock her down. “I know we aren’t married yet, but I don’t think I can let you wait any longer to give you what you want.” Brushing her nose against his, she spoke against his lips. “I think m’gonna let you get me pregnant.”
Harry's breath hitched, his eyes widening for a moment before they filled with a heat that almost burned her. "Y/N..." He growled, his voice low and loaded. "Are you sure? We can wait if you're not ready." Even as he said the words, his hands tightened on her, pulling her closer against him. He wanted it, he wanted her, like this, forever. When she nodded to agree that she was absolutely sure, he let out a deep groan, eyes wild as they searched her own. " Say it again. Please."
“I want you….” She purred, leaning in so their chests were pressed together. “To get me pregnant. Knock me up.” Smearing their lips together, she sucked a soft kiss to his bottom lip before murmuring again. “Put a baby in me.”
A shudder ran through him at her words, his control snapping. "Fuck, Angel..." He groaned, crashing his lips against hers in a bruising kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, claiming her, tasting her. She tasted so fucking good, so much like his. He couldn’t get enough. One hand tangled in her hair while the other slid down to grip her thigh, squeezing, owning. Pulling her down fully, he ground up against her, letting her feel how hard she made him. It had started the moment he walked in to see her splayed out on the bed, but this was something else. His weakness. "You want my baby?"
“Uh-huh.” She giggled against his mouth, turning it into a whimper as she felt his cock rub up against her. Since coming to the decision she had been wet, aching for him to actually do it. She wanted to keep him, lock him down in every sense of the word. Be the only one for him. She wanted to be the mother of his children, all of them. There was no patience for waiting. The ring could come later- she had known he got one anyway. “I want to be yours so badly. I need it.”
"Shit, baby, you already are.." Standing up and with her in his arms, he turned them over and set her down on the mattress with her back against it, looking at her with intense eyes. "M’going to give you my baby, my everything. You're going to be so fucking pregnant with my child, everyone's going to know it." Fumbling with his belt, he tossed it down and hurriedly stepped out of his trousers, letting his shirt fall off his shoulders as he watched her sit back up.
Her hands went for his briefs, tugging them down with shaky fingers. Y/N was just as needy for it as he was, and it showed. He let his head fall back, a low groan rumbling in his chest as she wrapped her hands around his shaft and pumped slowly, leaning down to lick the tip. He twitched in her grasp, throbbing in her palm.
"That's it, baby..." He encouraged softly, his hands tangling in her hair as he guided her head down, slowly thrusting into her warm, wet mouth. "Just like that. Get it nice n’wet for me." He pulled out, his breathing heavy.
She came back up for air, her hand pumping him slowly as she looked up at him with wide, eager eyes. "Open up for me, sweetheart. Stick out your tongue." He watched intently as she obeyed, baring her neck and tilting her head back. He wrapped a hand around the base of his erection and slowly pumped, his eyes rolling back as he grew harder. "Thatta girl..." He guided the tip to her lips, rubbing the head on her bottom lip.
He fed her his length slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as he savored the hot sensation of her mouth wrapping back around him. He pulled back and thrust into her mouth again, his hands tangling in her hair and guiding her head. "Look at me, Y/N. Keep your eyes on me."
Her eyes fluttered open, her lashes casting shadows on her flushed cheeks as she looked up at him, her mouth stretched around his thick girth. She hummed against him, eyes watering as he thrust further into her mouth. She looked so good, taking him like that, and he couldn’t help but groan, his pace quickening. "That's my good girl. Such a sweet little thing f’me."
He gently thrust in and out of her mouth, his hands cradling her head. "Relax your jaw for me, Y/N... that's it... jus’ like that." He praised her softly, his voice a husky whisper. "You're doing so well, m’love." He thrust a little deeper, pulling back quickly when she gagged slightly, his eyes flashing with concern. "Careful, careful. Breathe through your nose, baby, you can take it… Y’know how to do it."
She breathed in through her nose as he instructed, her chest rising and falling. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes from the push but she didn't pull away, determined to please him. Her hands came up to grip his thighs for balance as he continued to slowly thrust. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked gently, her tongue swirling around the tip each time he pulled out.
He was absolutely stunning, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his chest heaving with each breath. The sight of his strong thighs tensing and flexing under her hands, the way his abs clenched... it was almost too much. She wanted to memorize every detail. She needed to be his, forever. His skin was flushed and damp with exertion, his hair disheveled. He was the picture of raw, masculine beauty. And he was all hers..
It was adorable, how she whimpered at the loss of his cock as he pulled it from her mouth, but he needed to have her fully. Claim her in the way she had promised to let him. “Mmm, shit. Baby, you’re too good. S’okay.” He panted, pulling her up by her arms and crushing his lips against hers. "I need inside, love. I can't...I can't wait any longer. I need t’put my baby in you."
She nodded eagerly against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck as he adjusted her against the fluffy duvet. Never in her life had she been this fucking horny, but that was simply the way the man tended to affect her. Her legs spread wide for him, her heels digging into the bed as she watched him move to hover over her. Positioning himself between her thighs, his hands gripping her hips firmly, admiring the beauty that was his angel underneath him. "Y/N...look at me, sweetheart. Keep your eyes on me, okay?" His voice was gentle, loving, but his face was contorted with raw, unbridled desire.
"Need you t’watch while I knock you up." He grit out, pressing forward and filling her with one long thrust. Letting out a low groan as he bottomed out, his eyes fluttered shut in rapture. "Oh, fuck." He hissed, reveling in the feel of her wrapped around him. This was what he needed, the remedy to his long day. Always her. He stilled for a moment, giving her time to adjust to his size. It was a stretch, and he knew it. "Okay?" he asked softly, his hips flexing forward slightly.
“Uh-huh.” Her eyes were glued to his, wide and glassy as he filled her completely. The sensation of being so full, so stretched, was overwhelming. It never got old. When she got tipsy and slightly loose lipped, it was one of the things she alluded to with her friends- how big he was, how fulfilled he made her. She could feel every thick inch of him inside her, his heavy balls pressing against the plush of her ass. A soft whimper escaped her lips as she adjusted to his size, her walls clenching around him in a desperate attempt to keep him inside. "S’so good.”
He began to move, slow and deep at first, savoring the exquisite drag of her silken walls. "That's it, baby... take it. Take every inch of me." He whispered, his hips rolling in a hypnotic rhythm. One hand slid down to rub tight circles over her clit as he fucked into her. "Gonna fill this sweet cunt. Pump you full of me."
His cock stretched her, a dull, delicious ache as he drove into her again and again, the wet sounds of the thrusts filling the room. He angled his hips, searching for that perfect spot inside her. He always did. He loved to make her go crazy, see her buck and cry out when he got it. They fit together so well, sometimes it was hard to believe they’d found each other naturally. When did find it he heard it, music to his fucking ears. The borderline frantic cry as she grabbed his arms where they held her hips, her back arching off the bed. "Yes, there! Just like that." Her nails dug into his forearms as he hit her spot dead on with each thrust.
His balls slapped against her ass with each deep stroke, the sound echoing through the room. “Yeah, I found my spot. Didn’t I?” He crooned, smirk on his face as he kept it up. If there was anything he allowed himself to be smug about, it was how good he made his woman feel. “S’good, I know. Hitting right where my girl needs. God, you’re fuckin’ perfect. Dressing up for me…” He grit his teeth. “Tellin’ me I can finally give you a baby. You love me, don’t you sweetheart?”
“Yeah, I do. Shit, Harry.” She cried out, her voice high-pitched as her inner walls tightened around his thick shaft. She could barely think, let alone speak, with him filling her so perfectly. “Y-Yes, I love you so much- Please, please, please, please!” She chanted, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her as he continued to fuck into her sopping cunt. “Please what, baby?” He taunted, looking down at her beautiful form. It was the prettiest picture only he got to see. “What d’you want?”
“I-I want you to-” She gasped as he hit her spot again, her toes curling in ecstasy. “I want you to knock me up, H. Please knock me up, get me pregnant like y’wanted. I don’t care, just wanna feel you inside me, I want my tummy to grow, I want all of it.” She pleaded, tugging him down to her as she felt her eyes water, looking up at him. “Please, baby- please, please.”
His face contorted as he looked down at her, love and possession shining in his eyes. "You're really going t’let me breed you like that, huh? All for me?" He grit out with clenched teeth, his hips snapping forward as his hands gathered her, wrapping around her wrists and pinning them above her head. "Y’want to carry my baby, grow round with it inside you?"
"Yes, yes, yes." She chanted with a lovedrunk smile on her face, her back arching as he took her harder. The new angle had him hitting impossibly deep. "Please Harry, I need it. Need you to fill me up, make me yours. I want everyone to know I'm your girl, carrying your baby." Her voice broke, overwhelmed with pleasure. "Fuck, I'm getting close."
"That's it, cum on my cock like a good girl." He growled, feeling her tighten around him like a vice. "Milk me, I'm gonna pump you full. Gonna flood this fertile little cunt with my cum." His balls drew up tight as he pounded into her relentlessly, the wet squelch of her arousal obscene in the room. "Fuck, m’close too. You want it baby?"
Y/N could barely speak as her orgasm took her faster than she had anticipated. It was his voice, his promise that took her there. The sensation was indescribable. Like being consumed, each hard thrust sending wave after wave of intense heat through her veins. She could feel every ridge and vein of his thick, pulsing length as it slid in and out of her slick hole. Her whole body was alight, every nerve ending on fire as he stretched her to the limit. The pressure built and built, her muscles tensing as the first waves of her release washed over her.
"Please, please... I want to feel you, inside me, filling me up. I want your baby, Harry. I want you to breed me." Her words were barely coherent, her mind fogged with desire as he continued to thrust into her, his powerful hips driving his thick cock home again and again. She could feel the heat of his body, the tautness of his muscles as he held back, intent on pouring into her just as she'd begged. “Wanna be the only one.”
“Shit.” He whined weakly, losing all resolve to hold on. Hearing her beg for it was the final straw on his composure. This was a day he had dreamed of, and she had so willingly handed it over to him. It was his turn to give it to her, just as he promised. “I’ll give it to you baby. Give you everything- only t’you. Fuck.” With a feral groan, he lost all control, slamming into her one final time as he erupted inside her. His hot, thick cum flooded her, painting her insides as he filled her to the brim. She could feel it pouring in, the warmth spreading through her belly as he continued to pump her full, his cock jerking and twitching inside her. “Take all of it.”
Her mouth parted on a silent 'O' as she felt him surge inside her, his warmth spreading through her. Her eyes fluttered closed as he released her hands, and her fingers immediately digging on his back as she found a way to cling to him, her legs wrapping around his waist to hold him closer. She didn’t want him to leave, wanted him to stay buried.
"That's it, baby... take it all." He encouraged softly, nuzzling her neck as he slowly thrust in and out, relishing in the feeling as he pulsed inside of her.
She moaned softly, her head tossing on the pillow. "It feels so warm, so good... S’so much inside of me. I love you so much." She whispered, a fucked out smile painting her lips. "I hope it takes."
Pulling out slowly, his cock glistened with them combined as he held her open, his load leaking out of her. The scene was absolutely filthy and everything he had hoped to see when they tried this. "Look at you... so full of my cum. So fucking perfect." He gently held her thigh open with one hand, his fingers on the other spreading her open to show off his work. "Look at how full you are, baby."
She whimpered, her eyes fluttering open as he displayed her to him. "Harry... It's so much. I can feel it dripping out of me. Don’t waste it." She whispered, her voice tiredly giddy. "We should try for round two... just to be sure, right?"
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kedsandtubesocks · 4 months ago
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Prisonic Fairytale
Pyramid Head!Joel Miller x F!Reader
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summary: You’re looking for someone… what you find here in the fog instead has you staring into the abyss - and you discover it stares back (& wears the face of someone terrifyingly handsome)
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark themes. Silent Hill AU blended with TLOU canon (major spoilers for TLOU2), monsterfucking, distorted reality, limbo world & dreamlike states, sex pollen, dubcon, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, feelings & themes of dread/terror/hopelessness, angst, monstrous!Joel, moments of violence, death mentions, blood imagery, protective!Joel, possessive!Joel, Joel lifts reader multiple times with scary monster strength, scary guard dog Joel vibes, ambiguous happy ending (?)
word count: 5.7k
a/n: please be aware of the warnings - this fic I know won’t be everyone’s cup of tea & I kindly ask if it isn’t please just scroll away… if you haven’t played Silent Hill or don’t even know what it is know this was written for anyone to jump in & read! Big thank you @pedgito for beta reading ily forever, and to you, if you’re reading this know i truly appreciate it & thank you too ♡ divider credit to the ever talented @saradika-graphics
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This town, this possible pocket of a morbid nightmare, holds a plethora of ghastly creatures that stalk your very soul. Contorted bodies on the floor, lying fiends crawling as if straight from a hellish pit, all chase after you. Twitching infected, now distorted demons, also plague the streets.
But the monster enclosed in the large metal pyramid shaped device, who drags a sword the size of a small tree, terrifies you most of all.
You’ve seen the pyramid headed creature lurking through the thicket of the town, unwavering in his journey, almost even patrolling at times.
The body appears like that of a man. Broad shoulders sturdy, aged with thick veiny arms effortlessly pulling along the terrifying blade.
You think of the woman you met in the cemetery and what she said: “There’s something… wrong with that town.”
You fully understand now.
In a world surviving after its destruction, you never thought you’d see another form of hell. Yet an even more sinister darkness festers within every inch of this town waiting to strike. There is no peace.
Because when you open your eyes after dozing off on the crusty couch in the home you've been taking refuge in…
You discover the pyramid headed beast now looms above you.
His form towers imposing and striking, a monster conjured from a child’s nightmare now casting his shadow over you.
You didn’t even hear this hulking behemoth walk into the house.
The time spent here continues making your mind melt.
The only refuge you’ve found came in this abandoned home along the outskirts of town.
Which is now not so safe anymore.
Communication with Maria, your late mother’s oldest friend, has gone dead silent. You feel foolish not leaving with her, but now…
The searching, the endless days, the long walks, all have brought you here. Though you can’t even fully describe where here is.
You’ve seen doomed abandoned cities, but nothing like this. The buildings stand vacant, paint chipping away like decayed remnants of a world gone. Crusted crimson coats every inch of this place as if no one but angels tread here. Or possibly ghosts, or demons.
Thick fog blankets the town like the personified angel of death, blurring your sense of direction and casting you into an abyss of dread.
The town becomes an endless maze stretching on and on. You haven’t found another person for what feels like weeks. Only whispers and chills of dread like eyes watch from the shadows. The creatures and infected prey on you, maws open wide.
Now you stare up at their god, the most terrifying beast in this macabre world.
Stunned, petrified, barely even able to breathe, you stare at the pyramid monster so frightened you can't cry in terror, numb to the horrors.
But that’s when you see it. Black ink spilling against the creature’s side.
He’s injured.
Even injured you don’t doubt he can swing his sword and attack you within seconds.
Demonic screeches suddenly howl into the air breaking this tense moment. Your eyes, panicked, dart to the kitchen. The open back door gives you a clear shot to the backyard.
Monsters, macabre and bloody, claw towards your distorted sanctuary through the decayed wooden fence of the porch.
Adrenaline, instinctive primal fear, possesses you and you bolt off the couch.
You move, grabbing your weapon, a discarded pipe and start swinging. You ward off as many of the creatures as you can.
That’s when you realize the pyramid head beast hasn’t chased after you. So you continue swatting away the monsters long enough until you can barricade the opening shut with discarded lawn chairs.
Heading back inside, there, the pyramid monster waits.
In this barbaric wasteland, it unnerves you seeing this creature simply standing in the middle of the dimly lit living room. You’re grateful this home had matches and candles that brought some illumination.
It’s just you and the metal monster now.
Dark liquid, rusted ink like blood, spills down his arms and across his body.
The monstrosity does bleed.
It feels like a standoff, you staring at this tremendous wounded beast.
Through the rusted metal you hear it - heaved breathes, heavy wheezing.
This creature is wounded and hurting.
Too many thoughts buzz rapid and angry in your brain. You’re worried this monster man at any minute will chase and attack you. He already blocks your exit out the front door, possibly dooming you.
But some sort of scabbing human pity wells in you. If you were this injured and alone, you pray someone would spare you, help and save you with a grace filled hand of salvation.
So viewing this beast like a cornered animal, you slowly walk back into the kitchen. You grab a pack of kitchen towels, old and covered in cobwebs, but still the most you could manage as wrappings.
Back in the living room, you cautiously place the items on the couch near the pyramid head man.
He doesn’t move.
Keeping your focus on him and tiptoeing within the edges of terror, you head back to the kitchen. If he does decide to attack you can at least try running out the back door. It might be swifter than trying to dodge his great sword.
Patiently, you sit waiting, too stunned to sleep.
It’s simply you and the pyramid headed monster. He never once enters your space.
You don’t even know how much time has passed or if any time has passed at all.
Daybreak soon leaks into the kitchen. The sunlight hitting your face wakes you, electrifying your heart.
You fell asleep.
Rapidly you rush into the living room.
He’s gone. The creature is gone.
That’s when you notice the wide open porch door, the source of the light that woke you. Hesitantly you peer outside.
The bulking monster towers on the porch, faintly statuesque. His back is back to you. His rusting metal sword stands at the ready.
The pyramid headed creature turns to face you.
You feel cornered, a small prey within the eyes of a demonic god waiting to feel its wrath. The rusted pyramid head simply stands still.
The wound isn’t bleeding anymore, but his dark ink like blood stains his clothing.
The creature picks up the great dreaded sword. Instantly your body coils like a rabid ready to spring and run for the door…
Until the pyramid head moves and walks away.
The sight stuns you. You even wait expecting him to return.
He doesn’t.
The rush of emotions barrels into your body, causing you to hold onto the banister of the porch.
Three things bounce rabidly in your mind.
First, the pyramid head creature didn’t kill you, didn’t even once attack you even while you slept.
Second, it might possibly be the lack of human contact or the absence of cohesive reality in this town, but if you didn’t know better…it looked like the beast stood on the porch keeping watch.
And third -
The pyramid head man wore a broken watch.
Strangely enough, that thought sticks with you most of all.
Fear shakes your hands while you shake open door after door trying to find sanctuary. Night approaches. You’ve learned night unleashes the worst of this town, a catalytic shift. Now an unforgiving storm with thick wailing winds threatens to blow you away. You knew you wandered too far again to head back to your makeshift home.
You have to find shelter.
The mist thickens, a sinister soup. The scratching of claws, the clicking of infected, seem to come from all around. You’re on the verge of tears trying another door.
Eventually you find sanctuary in the bar.
With the storm raging outside this will be your rest stop for the night. You begin scavenging around.
Various notes, journal scraps, even receipts, scatter across the town like fallen leaves among the debris. You’ve been gathering them curious to what they entail.
The crunched up book entries become vital fast when you discover many hold information about the creatures residing in this molding disaster.
Here you find one with a simple pyramid drawing on it etched out in dried blood.
Below the drawing is a note. The scribble handwriting paints the pyramid head monster as a hunter, unstoppable in his rampage and the hand of destruction itself.
“Born from the most human yet selfish desires that ravages a soul. It brings him to the edge of losing his humanity. Or maybe it is because he cares too much that this darkness consumed him…whatever it is, that is what created this creature. This once man, who stole the candidate is”
Blood stains the rest of the journal scrap, like the town refuses to let you know the name of this creature.
You pray you don’t run into the pyramid head again.
Tired and not wanting to sleep on the disgusting floor, you pull up a seat at the bar top folding your arms to rest upon them.
The wind howls. Muffled creaks of the creatures still wandering around are unsettling. But your eyes finally close all the same.
You swear you now hear the soft tunes of an old country song, and someone whispering your name.
Delicate fingers, warm and callous, brush against your forehead. Wearily you open your eyes.
The bar has been transformed. Instead of the boarded up abandoned shell of a building, it’s incredibly cozy. Lights are strung up. Gentle music floats all around.
“Y’wanna drink, sweetheart?”
The voice is smooth, accented and twanged beautifully. It feels like it’s been so long since you even spoke to another person much less heard one.
Scrambling up, you discover the voice comes from a man behind the bar.
There stands the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. And yet what sadness clouds around him. An aged rugged grace paints him like some country romance love interest. Brown eyes as dark as earthen caverns beg you to get lost in.
The bar is beautiful, and he’s beautiful.
“You’ve been fightin hard.” He says, pouring out a drink for you.
You’re stunned, can’t process what’s even happening.
“Where are we?” You ask stunned.
“A museum,” he dully replies, but you can tell he’s joking.
The sip of the drink tastes heavenly, warms you up and settles you down.
“Ya seem tired.” He adds, and you exhale feeling the weight of this world seep into your bones.
“Wanna talk about it?” He asks gently.
So you spill your heart to him. How Maria, the closest person you’ve had left to family, vanished into the wind. How you don’t know what’s even going on anymore.
“And now I’m here.” You sigh.
“Maybe you’re here for a reason.” The bartender suggests. “This town…it knows more than we realize.”
You don’t know how to reply. So all you can do is take a quiet sip.
A quiet thump comes, and you glance up. The man behind the bar with darts in his hand now tries throwing them at the target across the wall.
The second dart he throws barely lands on the bullseye.
“Wow, you kinda suck.” You snort.
He scoffs looking at you. “Think you’d be any better?”
So that’s how you end up behind the bar now, trying to throw darts in competition with this beautiful older man. He smirks at how pissed you get seeing one of your darts just miss the target.
A vague familiarity swirls around this man, as if something at the back of your mind claws to get out.
You dream of him and this bar often, like your mind slips into this space to escape the horrors clamoring for your flesh.
Your favorite handsome bartender refuses to give you his name, no matter how many times you’ve tried weaseling it out of him.
“My name’s not important.” He tells you, and it only draws a cold ache in your chest.
Then, the nightmares of this town squash your peaceful dreams.
The decayed buildings wither away more and more into desolation the further you travel into the town.
Butterflied fungal growths sprout over certain buildings, crawling over the cracks and branching over the surface of anything they touch. You were worried they too carried the infection.
“Don’t touch fungus shit.” A note written on an old receipt had warned you about the vines and flora of this town.
But it’s getting hard heeding that warning. The monsters rage more bloodthirsty, ruthless and violent in their attacks.
The apartments you’re running through are hard to navigate. Walls crumble and the dark corridors make it difficult to see which way is which. You’re reminded of a twisted diabolical version of wonderland.
Turning a corner, one of the creatures emerges from the darkness screeching and swinging at you. Scrambling away you collide hard against the wall and a puff of dust clogs your senses.
You try not inhaling and swing your metal pipe until it makes contact, stopping the attack.
But what had you run into?
Your heart drops seeing one of the vines cracked open and the faint dust like spores dancing in the air.
Panic rages in your chest.
You flee, fast as you can, running through familiar spaces until you’re out of the apartment hallway. You need to get back to the safe house you’ve been hiding in.
But the wind outside whips feral, screaming with a blustering force that you can barely step outside.
Then your hands start shaking and suddenly heat floods over your body.
The spores, you realize, unleashed a sudden sickness because it feels like you got hit with a sudden fever. Dread spreads in you. You know these aren’t the typical symptoms of the cordyceps infection, but you can’t risk it.
So you wait inside the apartment complex’s entrance office.
No sensation of twitching.
Instead, your mouth dries out and a slickness pools between your legs.
Shit.
What kind of reaction did these vines cause?
Your body drifts between a sensation of being weighed down by an anchor to almost floating through the air until you stumble down onto the floor.
The clothes you wear now scratch your skin, and your mind slowly fogs up more. So you slip out of your pants.
You’re aware that you’re on the floor of the abandoned receptionist office and hope this will provide you enough cover as your fingers dip into your soaking core.
The orgasmic release clumsily comes, but it’s like unleashing a dam.
Your body twitches wishing for more. Unsatisfied, hungry, everything feels empty.
Please, your mind whispers out, please someone… help.
Slipping your fingers inside, the loud wet squelch of your arousal makes your cheeks burn. It’s almost sacrilegious hearing this debauched erotic sound among such a decayed morbid wasteland.
You’re lost in the sensation, trying to fight through this heat. Your eyes even haze over as the pleasure bubbles more.
Aloud clang collides against the door, snapping your attention forward. Towering above you again is the pyramid head man.
You don’t even scream. It gets logged in your throat instead transforming into a twisted moan.
In this small space, the metal covered demon looms larger than ever. The pyramid prisoned monster stays focused solely on you.
Slowly, he lumbers closer. You can’t even find the strength to move, scramble with some dignity and leave. If anything your legs move like jello shifting as you take in the sight of his strong thick arms, his broad shoulders.
You wonder what he looks like under the helm.
A low rumble vibrates through the room. Wearily your eyes drift down and spot the obvious bulge straining against his pants.
“Please.” The word croaks out of you before you can stop it. You don’t know if this will even help, or if this is even real.
Quickly he crouches down and large firm hands grasp your legs, dragging you across the floor. The movement makes your body twitch, and your eyes shut bracing for pain.
Instead you're gingerly placed on the edge of a table in the receptionist room.
Hesitantly your eyes open. All you see is rusted archaic metal. A sound rips into the air, the tearing of clothes, your underwear specifically. Your core feels colder, yet the cool breeze melts into unbearable flames as the air hits your bare skin.
Gentle fingers twitch moving across your thighs and you moan, almost want to sob. How long has it been since someone’s last touched you? And so reverently?
The low rumbling sound rattles all around you, mixing with your own moans. Everything heightens when his fingers slip inside you.
Thick, his fingers are so damn thick making your hips fidget to feel more of him.
This creature, this monster that’s ripped apart bodies and bathed itself in blood, now fully devotes itself to your pleasure. You feel drunk on that knowledge.
But your release runs away further from you now, hiding just out of reach making you whine frustrated and almost feral.
More, more, you need more.
“Inside.” You manage to croak to the beast. “Need more…inside.”
It’s as if this nightmare world has slipped under your skin, becoming a part of your bloodstream allowing you to transmute the terror into terrible pleasure.
The twitch of the monster’s large cock drags across your bare thighs. The sensation jolts you awake, aware and hyper focused. His grimey blood crusted hands rapidly grab onto your soft hips. You don’t even care if they were inside you, touching you.
Especially when your mind melts as the creature slips inside.
He’s thick, knocking your breathless. It’s delicious feeling so full that you swear you almost feel him in your ribs. It makes the skin melt off your bones.
The monster relentlessly pounds into you, shaking the table unabashedly loud mixing with your delirious moans.
Your legs twist around his strong waist, locking him into you tighter. The pyramid headed beast rumbles louder in this closer position. More distorted groans mix with yours as his hands run up your body, tracing every inch of you.
You should be frightened. This creature sent from hell has you at its mercy. But instead the sensations flooding your body make you’re hungrier for him.
“More, more.” You whine loud and unrelenting.
And he gives.
Your climax is beautifully fierce. Your screams blend into the white void swallowing you whole. Your legs thrash. Your eyes roll back as your fingers dig into the creature’s cold arms. This, you believe, might be the last taste of heaven you’ll ever find in this hell pit.
Exhaustion crashed in immediately. You feel like a ragdoll on the table while this monster continues thrusting into you sloppy and messy, broken growls distorting your mind.
Teetering between bliss and dreams, your hands move up, slowly trade up to the rusting metal.
Tenderly, you wonder what would be like if you could free this creature -
Your hands tracing across the rusting metal containing this pyramid headed monster does something to him. He roars, distorted and hellish, and suddenly spills into you.
You don’t even care he came inside. You thought you had been stated before, now it’s like floating into a new realm of pleasure. You moan now in tandem with him.
Full, you’ve never felt this full. A thick hand affectionate and soft rest against your lower belly. You think it almost aches of a revenant tenderness.
But you’re barely awake now, barely process what’s going on. All you sense are arms cradling you while you fade in and out.
Then you wake up wondering if it was all a dream.
Because instead of the corroded apartment complex you were in, you’re resting back in bed of the home you’ve been staying at.
Did that monster carry you back all the way here?
You don’t know. For a moment you don’t even know if that fuck in the apartments was real, until you stand up and the ache that rips across your body says otherwise.
So you stay resting in this hollow soul of a home. After gaining some rest you start snooping around.
There’s so many photos of a bright young girl with warm sparkling intelligent eyes. Her playing soccer, her roofing showing off her school achievements. She's with two other men.
One is a handsome younger man, a relative from how easy you can see the similarities in their warm smiles.
The other man in any photo… his face is missing.
Either scratched out or simply ripped from the photo.
You heartaches thinking of this family preserved here in the grief of it all, frozen after the world ended and now in this pocket of macabre.
You fall back asleep in the large main bedroom you first woke up in. The faintest hints of pine and sandalwood strangely still cling in the sheets.
It pulls you into the softest dream.
This time you dream of this home you're in now full alive, warm and inviting.
A man stands at the kitchen, his sturdy beautifully broad back to you, dressed in that familiar green plaid. He catches your presence, hears your footsteps and turns.
In the soft morning light, he’s painted ethereal. A rugged whisper of a man out of reach yet so close. Then as a gentle grin tugs his lips, you feel like you already do know him.
You and him settle into a soft morning, simply preparing breakfast. Then thick strong arms slide around you from behind, and the smell of pine and sandalwood washes over you.
Your bartender hums a deep sigh while burying his face against your shoulder.
“Wanna taste ya. Can I taste y’honey?” He mutters letting his words roll out a soft seductive purr.
Something firm already pokes against you and when he grinds into you, everything in you molds into him.
Kissing this man, finally tasting his lips clashing into you, is akin to unleashing a great beast, a creature laying dormant that now consumes unrelenting.
His teeth nip and dig at your skin, trying to devour you whole. But it’s with a fierce devotion that almost brings tears to your eyes when he kisses you again.
Then he says your name…
His voice is like a beautiful country twang wrapped in the delicacy of a moth’s wing. The tenderness of his fingers running across your face, holding you in his grasp - it’s drenched in the deepest affection you’ve ever experienced.
He tastes of something sweet, a promise of home.
And then he fucks you wild from behind pressed up against the counter.
His mouth is again all over your neck, biting licking any inch of you he can.
“God damn baby,” he moans with a slurp as he sucks on your skin. “Wanted this, wanted to taste ya for so long. Was losin’ my mind before.”
Before?
Even among the delicious haze that catches you off guard slightly.
But then all worry drifts away when his fingers slide down to your clit.
“You’re m’fucking baby, yeah? All fucking mine?” He growls and the rumble sounds familiar, like a creature you’ve heard prowling in the dark.
“Yes.” You sob, nodding best as you can.
The way he pounds into you, carves a new universe into you. You feel like you’re completely tied to him. Something inside you whispers maybe you always have been.
His hand curls around your throat, possessive but tender.
It’s wonderful for a dream.
But dreams here don’t last long. You realize that now.
After you finish, and after he spills into you, he pulls himself away from leaving you empty and stunned.
There’s a composed wilderness clouding his eyes. He moves to clean you up and it’s quiet, thick with choking tension.
“This town…” his voice cuts clipped as he shakes his head. He sounds worried, strained and panicked. After you and him compose yourselves, he quickly moves to a drawer to pull out a simple pistol.
Determined and unwavering, he loads it then places it in your hand.
You even tear up.
“Next time I see ya I don’t know what’ll happen. Don’t know if I’ll be able to get to ya in time.” He mutters.
Next time?
“Stay safe…” this man whispers, then leans forward to place a sweet kiss against your forehead.
A chittering growl, the static hiss of one of the monsters, echoes outside the window. Fear clutches at your heart overshadowing the warmth.
You scramble to glance outside trying to spot the demon in the mist.
Thankfully the creature doesn’t spot you, only shuffles further down the street, clicking and twisting its body.
Sighing you turn back to the man -
And no one is there.
Now the warm kitchen stands with the corroded wood, matted cobwebs and an empty space. The kitchen stares back desolate and mocking.
Yet a real gun still sits in your hand.
Was this even a dream? Were you awake this entire time?
A hand comes over your mouth to silence the sob and stop the bleeding panic of realizing this distorted reality is possibly infecting you whole.
The next dream you have, another man greets you. This man also seems familiar. You’ve seen in the photos, warm eyes and a handsome youthful charming smile.
Brother to your lover, you can’t explain how but those two you just know are brothers.
He’s working the bar now.
“Where’s…” you feel foolish not being able to say the name of the man you long for.
“Out.” The current bartender say with a familiar twang. “He’s… on patrol.”
Those words hang ominous.
“Y’know…a town like this used to be our paradise.” He explains.
You can see remnants of that wherever you go, whispers of peace corrupted and overrun by the darkness.
“But this town… it knows.” He adds.
You’re reminded of a journal scrap you came across in the main part of town.
“The town will read your heart, manifest the darkness into willpower… but it will come with a tax.”
You even read that outloud to this man. His face darkens.
“Yeah, shit that’s exactly it.” He coughs.
Then his eyes search yours.
“You’re… you know you can move on.” There’s an ache wavering in his voice that rips your heart open.
You shake your head.
You almost feel guilty. You came here looking for Maria and now chase after a ghost. But, it feels as if you’re looking for a multitude of them now. Like this one ghost will unlock them all.
“Tell me about him, about your brother.” You ask.
The handsome younger man barks a laugh.
“Stubborn as a god damn mule. Prideful at times. But… maybe the best damn man I’ve ever known.” The fondness gleams ever true in his words, brotherly love unending.
“Y’know, his birthday…it was on-”
“Outbreak day.” You finish before you even process the words.
You inhale sharp.
His birthday…
Yes. You remember. That’s right, he told you his birthday was the day the world ended.
“Love and grief are funny fuckin’ things. Might even be brothers at times.” The younger brother comments, and your throat feels dry.
You need to leave. Your skin crawls unbearable now.
Forcing yourself awake, you cough among the stale air of the hospital. The dust stings your lungs.
Tucking this dream into the corner of your heart, you wake up back to your journey.
So many bodies litter the hospital. So many bullets and abandoned guns are scatter among the floors. The place is crawling with more monsters running amuck here.
Rushing down a hallway, you stumble down the stairs. Exhaustion outweighs your adrenaline. Eventually you end up back down at the lower level parking garage of the hospital.
At least you can try to heading back home.
Then something scrapes against the concrete.
“You.” A distorted voice growls demonic. Behind you is another monster, this one sounds like a woman and you can see distinct features, echoes of this woman, among the monstrous.
“This is what he did to us.” The creature screeches at you with angered venom.
“It’s all his fault, he brought the end of the world with him, was born to bring destruction. He takes…All he does is take! We had salvation in our hands and he took it from us! He took Ellie!”
Ellie…
The name flashes to your mind bringing a warm familiar laugh of a young girl telling you a bad dad joke, the image of her so close yet still out of reach has you blinking back tears.
Then the monster’s screech rattles the walls, singing of ancient pain that makes your legs weak.
She fights with so much power. There’s only so much hiding and your pistol can do.
Trying to flee from her attacks, you stumble and fall onto the floor.
It’s over. This has to be the end.
“He can’t save you now.” The creature cackles gleeful.
A sob escapes you.
“Joel.”
You whisper the name, feeling it scramble and scratch at your throat. Why it suddenly came to you now, you don’t know. But it feels as if it’s been hiding this entire time, simply waiting for you to call upon it.
Suddenly distorted violent scratching comes, and your body freezes. Something loud collides hard and fast against the metal.
The swing of the terrible executioner’s sword comes first. Then, the rust of metal follows.
The pyramid head creature emerges from the darkness.
He is every bit the destroyer you once feared. Yet now he stands solely between you and the other monster, protecting you.
She screeches loud seeing her new opponent.
The two battle, ferocious beast unchained, and you stare petrified.
That’s when you catch the glimpse of the pyramid head’s arm again.
The watch. The broken watch.
The same watch you’re realizing your bartender wore, the one you know so fondly.
And now that you fully stare at the great sword, you’re reminded of a pocket knife a man you loved once used.
“Joel.” You say again.
The pyramid head turns to you, like a guard dog being called back and waiting for your command.
It’s him underneath it. It really is him…
Everything clicks into place.
The realization unfolds soft, steady and quiet.
This town, the grief but ultimately the love he held turned him into this.
The town knighted him as both executioner and protector.
Within the eternal welded metal, he’s punished to stay locked up from ever tasting true blissful peace. The grief of losing his daughter, of trying to save another, feeling like he’s never been able to protect or bring any goodness into this world only for him to lose it - all layered and sealed itself around him.
Now he’s here…
Here to protect you like he has been this entire time.
Joel with every might swings his sword, powerful and true. He lands hit after hit to the creature roaring unholy, powerful and fierce.
This baptism in his wrath, the comfort in knowing the bloodshed comes because he’s protecting you brings a laugh from your chest.
It’s a laugh freeing and loud. It bounces off the walls, mixes with the gurgles of blood and the ripping of flesh.
Your Joel won’t lose.
The demonic screeches of the woman come to a crescendo and then she falls deadly silent. Before you realize it, a soft hand is against your face. The shadow of the pyramid rusted metal falls over you like the shade of angel wings.
“Joel.” You whisper his name reverent.
Gingerly, like you’re something precious, you’re gathered into his arms. Soft pur rumbles are the last thing you hear before the darkness pulls you under.
You wake up in a med clinic. You can’t tell if this is a dream or not.
“Finally made it… took ya a while.” The voice, gentle and comforting, makes you bolt up from bed.
Maria sits beside you with soft eyes and a kind smile.
“You’re here.” You sob relieved.
“Knew you’d find us.” She nods.
A knock arrives cutting Maria off. Inside steps the familiar younger brother who beams comfortingly.
“Tommy.” You effortlessly greet him, like the name has been with you all along.
“Knew you’d figure it out.” He grins, familiar and sweet.
“Come on.” Maria says with a knowing look. “We should let her rest some more.”
“But wait…” you say and they both pause, turning to you. “What…”
What had happened? What’s really going on? You can even gather your thoughts, put them into words.
Then all that worry dies out when another drawl of a voice pierces the room.
“Alright, leave her alone.”
Joel.
Maria sighs, playfully exhausted. While Tommy turns to you with a wink. They both slide out of the door while Joel instead rushes in. Tommy makes playfully kissing noises. Joel shots him a look before he then quickly moves to the side of your bed.
Your hand finds his immediately.
“You’re here.” You croak and he nods.
“Ain’t leaving you, honey.” It sounds like a promise, ever true. You don’t ever want to leave him now, or here…
“Let’s go home.” You nod.
Without another word Joel gathers you into his arms, kisses the top of your head and steps out of the door.
The fog greets you soft and wispy. A chill runs up your spine from the cold air, but Joel curls you tighter in his arms. All of the monsters and creatures in the streets now scurry away in fear.
This man… the memories flutter in hazy now.
There was a time where you left looking for Maria and ran into a man with that special headstrong girl. A love grew for the two of them and you ending up in the safety of a town… a heaven on earth. You made a home with that man. Watched that girl grow up.
But then that man you loved died, and so did your world.
Then you woke up here at the edge of this town in the graveyard… Did the grief send you here?
You don’t even know anymore. Especially because all of that seems like another world now.
You’re here now. That’s what matters.
“Joel, you deserve love,” you whisper into his chest. “You did what your heart told you…that’s why I’m here. I’ll remind you everyday that you’re a good man. I’m your baby, remember?”
Your hand reaches up to softly stroke the metal pyramid encasing. He rumbles soft, familiar, the most comforting sound.
You think of how lucky you are to find love in the devil’s arms and discover peace within his hell.
In the arms of your man, your monster, you happily enter the fog embracing it all around.
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mint-yooxgi · 7 months ago
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Kinktober Day 30 - Yandere!Fallen Angel!Seonghwa + Somnophilia & Body Worship
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Anonymous Said: Seonghwa from ateez. Consensual Somnophilia & Body worship. Yandere & fallen angel or guardian angel. A/n: I am SO sorry that this is late, life has just been a bit hectic lately. Again, it's Hwa, so I couldn't help myself. It's not as long as I was originally going to make it, but I like where it ends honestly. He's intense in the best ways imo, and I do really love how this turned out. I also have a yandere angel ateez series planned at some point where Hwa is an archangel, so I'm also really excited about that. It's heavily inspired by his Will To Power solo stage, so I hope you all can look forward to that at some point! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy! Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Possession, Monster Features, Yandere, Blood mentioned in brief (not in a kinky way), Lots of religious metaphors, Overstimulation, Oral (fem. rec), Fingering (fem. rec), Squirting, Minor Dacryphilia (if you squint), There's a lot :) Word Count: 4,821 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist
Park Seonghwa is a man of many emotions.
Well… technically he’s not a man, but there is no one in this universe that makes him feel more human than you. 
There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you. You are his one saving grace in this hellish landscape called earth, and he will do anything to protect that fact. No one is off limits. Nothing is too much. For when it comes to you, you deserve nothing but the best this world has to offer. 
His best. 
Seonghwa will always make sure of that.
The water feels cool against his skin despite the steam rising through the air. One of his hands is braced against the stone tiles of the shower wall, letting the flow of water cascade down his back and pool around the drain. Red streaks against his skin, little rivulets creating vein-like patterns across his figure as he washes away the horrific events of the evening.
You can never know. You will never know. 
Seonghwa has spent his whole life guarding those most precious to him. Now, you’re the only thing left that matters.
You. Who still sleeps soundly beneath the thick covers of his duvet as he steps out of the bathroom a short while later. Your features rest in a soft expression of pure bliss, chest rising and falling steadily. The light of the moon only serves to make your skin glow, illuminating every inch of you that he has always loved more than anything else in this godforsaken world.
A pleased smile tugs at his lips, eyes shining with nothing but adoration as he observes you through the dark. Lightly, he fluffs his damp hair with the towel held in his hand, the one wrapped around his waist hanging dangerously low. Small droplets of water cascade down his chest which he is quick to wipe away.
After all, you’re expecting him to join you, and he hates to keep you waiting.
With his lips curling upwards into that all too familiar loving smile, he takes a step towards the bed. Large, fluffy wings emerge from his back, deep red in colour. As he fluffs the feathers lightly, he lets the towel fall from his waist. The other is quick to join the growing heap on the floor, knowing you’ll more than likely scold him in the morning for tossing the damp material in the middle of the room.
Sometimes, Seonghwa swears he does these types of things on purpose just to hear you scold him. The way you shake your head in exasperation, muttering about whatever it is he’s done this time makes him all giddy inside. It means you’re paying attention to him. It means you care.
Or maybe he just enjoys making things up to you in any and every way he can.
A massage here. Breakfast in bed there. Perhaps even you allowing him to get lost in that glorious heat that rests between your legs, making you shake in uncontrollable bliss.
After all, it is one of his absolute favourite pastimes.
Seonghwa thought he knew what it meant to worship something, or someone, wholeheartedly. That is, until he met you.
All of the time in the world is still too short of an eternity to be spent with you by his side.
The stars pale in comparison to you, for you hold entire galaxies in your eyes. Your smile warms his very soul each and every time he sees that glorious expression stretch across your face. All music sounds dull whenever the melodic symphony of your laughter filters through the air. Not to mention how strong and intelligent you are. 
Kind, witty, caring… The list of your perfections continues to grow everyday, and everyday he knows you is a blessing beyond his wildest dreams. Seonghwa could spend hours lost within the confines of your mind, learning everything there is to know about you, and so much more. Each new discovery is a revelation of the highest regard, and he strives to satisfy in every way.
Every word you speak is gospel, and he is your most devout follower.
Lifting the covers gently, Seonghwa slides into bed beside you. He’s extra careful to not disturb you, not wanting to accidentally wake you at this time. Still, he cannot help but shift closer, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. The way you subconsciously turn into him, snuggling deeper into his embrace only serves to make him smile.
Even in your dreams, you always know how to find your way home. To him.
Subtly, his arms tighten around you, placing a tender kiss to the top of your head. His wings wrap around you, encasing you in a soft red cocoon and ensuring your safety. Your comfort and wellbeing are his number one priorities, and once he knows you’re settled in his embrace, he fully allows himself to relax. 
Soon, his own eyes are fluttering shut, drifting off to meet you inside of your dreams.
A few hours later, Seonghwa is blinking awake. His head now rests on top of your chest, your arms cradling him to you in your sleep. 
Despite such a short bout of rest, he feels refreshed, having slept deeper with you safely wrapped in his arms. Gladly, he melts into your embrace, breathing in your scent and letting everything you completely surround him.
The moon still rests high in the sky, a gentle breeze drifting through the slight crack in the open window. The room is quiet, nothing but the soft sounds of your mingling breaths filling the space.
Seonghwa holds you tighter. Turning his head, his lips press tenderly against your chest, just above your heart. His hair tickles your skin, and you shiver lightly from his touch.
Peeking his dark gaze upwards, Seonghwa studies your features. Your brow seems to be furrowed slightly in discomfort, and a moment later, you squirm lightly beneath him. Your nails suddenly dig into the skin of his shoulders, a soft, muffled whimper escaping your lips.
Worry tugs at his features as he reaches a hand up to soothe your brow. He’s quick to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently over your skin as he lifts himself slightly above you. Intently, he studies your face, searching for any signs of what may be the problem.
That’s when it hits him. You must be having a nightmare.
Just as he shifts his hand to your shoulder in attempts to wake you up, you let out a sound that has him freezing above you.
His name. You moan his name.
A smug grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he realizes what’s really going on here. Pride swells in his chest at the fact that he could make you dream of him like this, knowing how often he dreams of you. What serves to make this moment ever better is when you let out another small whimper, tightening your hands on his shoulders as your hips jerk upwards against his own.
“Pretty Girl,” His low voice purrs out. “What could you possibly be dreaming of, hmm?”
Cocking his head to the side, he stares down at you. His chest is pressed flush against your own, forearms supporting him on either side of you as he settles more comfortably between your legs.
Leaning into you, he begins to place soft kisses against your cheek. Slowly, he trails his lips down your jawline, tracing over your pulse, then back up again. All the while, that same smirk tugs at his features.
His nose nudges tenderly against your jaw.
“Why live in a fantasy when I can make all of your dreams a reality?”
More kisses are placed upon the skin of your neck as he slowly begins to make his way down your body. His touch is feather light, wings twitching excitedly in the air behind him as he tugs your shirt down gently. The straps of your tank top easily slide down your arms, and with a quick movement, he’s snapping them as if they were nothing but brittle string.
The sound of tearing fabric echoes around the room as he shreds through your shirt, pausing lightly to check on you. He forgot how loud that could be, his mind having been focussed on exposing you to the most pleasure that he can give you. Of course, that meant exposing you, but he doesn’t want to wake you from your blissful slumber quite yet.
Not even his chest rises or falls with breath as he hovers above you, watching you closely for any signs of movement. After a little while passes with your eyes still shut, steady breathing and soft whimpers still falling from you, he breathes a sigh of relief.
Slowly, carefully, he discards your shirt, hands beginning to trace over your sides. His touch is gentle, eyes taking in every bare inch of skin presented to him. Nothing but admiration shines in his gaze, a dark, primal sort of lust hiding within. He’s hoping beyond anything to have you smoothly transition from your dream into reality. For when you do, he’ll be ready and waiting with open arms.
There is nothing more rewarding to him than your pleasure. The fact that he alone is the only one able to bring you to such ecstasy makes his heart swell with so much love and pride within his chest. Only he can touch you like this. Only he lives to serve you, to make you see the far reaches of the heavens each time your eyes flutter shut in bliss. Your pleasure is his pleasure, and he could spend eternity worshipping you, all while making you scream his name.
Ever so gently, he presses his face against your chest, right in the valley of your breasts. His hands come up to cup such tender flesh, inhaling deeply as he nuzzles against you. Again, his lips press a tender kiss directly over your heart, wings fluttering in content as his thumbs tease over your nipples.
Fingers trace languidly against your skin, needing to feel every inch of you beneath his touch. Slowly, Seonghwa begins trailing feather light kisses down your body, heart fluttering in anticipation. Every second that passes, your scent becomes stronger, your thighs subconsciously squeezing around his sides. He knows you need him just as desperately as he needs you, and he does not want to waste any more time than he already has.
Reaching the hemline of your sleep shorts, Seonghwa dips the tips of his fingers beneath the band. A tender kiss is placed onto the skin of your stomach, nose nudging against you affectionately. The corner of his lips quirks upwards as he slowly begins tugging your shorts down your thighs, being extra cautious not to wake you.
Of course, Seonghwa cannot help himself. How can he when he has the most perfect being laid out before him? Temptation wins out as he presses loving kisses against your thighs with each inch revealed to him. Once he fully removes your shorts, he nearly lets out a low moan when the sight of your bare pussy, needy and already shimmering with your arousal, is presented to him.
Tossing your shorts somewhere in the room, Seonghwa is quick to run his hands up the length of your legs. His fingers ghost against your skin, breathing deepening as your scent completely immerses him in everything you. Once he reaches the tops of your thighs, his thumbs begin to softly brush against the sensitive flesh. The way you shiver beneath his touch, even while still asleep, makes him smile.
Again, he leans into you, pressing delicate kisses against the skin of your thighs. His teeth graze your flesh, teasing at you as he continues to brush his thumbs over you.
Every little sound you make, every twitch and shudder of your body, has his cock absolutely throbbing against the mattress. A carnal ache resides within him. A desperation only you can satiate. Yet, when it comes to you, he always wants more.
Finally, unable to wait even a moment longer, Seonghwa presses his face against your cunt. He noses along your slit, inhaling deeply as his whole body shudders from your scent. Teasingly, his tongue flicks out to taste you, and even the briefest touch of your arousal on his lips has him moaning shamelessly against your core.
Something within himself snaps. 
With his whole body shaking in need, Seonghwa buries himself deep in your cunt. Desperate, guttural moans escape him as he drags his tongue through your folds, eagerly suckling at the sweet nectar that flows from between your legs. His lips place a few chaste kisses against your clit before he’s wrapping them around such a sensitive little bud, suckling at you eagerly.
His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head, tongue flattening against your clit before rolling in circles. His hot breath hits your cunt with every exhale, wings fluttering above him as he groans lowly. Desperately, his hands tighten over your waist, pulling you even closer into his touch.
A pleased rumble shakes his chest once he feels your fingers tangle in his hair. The way you hold him to your cunt, tugging him in closer has him redoubling his efforts over you.
Heavy breathing permeates the room, your hips beginning to grind against his face in time with his movements. Sleep still clings to the corners of your vision, eyes barely cracked open to peer at him through the darkness. Each flick of his tongue over your clit has pleasant jolts of pure ecstasy coursing through your veins, already feeling so close to the edge as that familiar pressure builds within.
His movements are desperate, shaking his head back and forth while sucking your clit between his lips. Sharp, hooded eyes glint up at you through the shadows, his hips beginning to grind against the mattress as his fingers dig into your skin.
Again, he tugs you in impossibly closer, tongue slipping down to dip between your folds. Swirling the muscle around your entrance, he hums, pressing himself firmer into your cunt. His nose grinds against your clit, tongue buried as deep as possible within you as he licks and sucks almost uncontrollably.
The sound of your moans create a beautiful symphony around him, urging him on. He can tell you’re close. The way your thighs begin to shake around his head makes his cock twitch. His hips grind harder against the mattress, silently begging for you to fall apart with him as he brings you to ecstasy.
Wrapping his lips around your clit once more, it’s like you answer his every prayer.
Back arching from the bed, you come with a loud cry of his name. Your thighs squeeze around his head, holding him in place as he flattens his tongue against you, letting you ride out your orgasm as you grind your hips against him. Whimpers and moans echo alongside blissful sighs of his name, your heart racing as pleasure floods your veins.
The moment he feels you flooding his tongue, his eyes roll into the back of his head. With your thighs closing around his head, his pleased cries get muffled against your cunt as he comes with you. Hot spurts of his come soak into the sheets beneath his hips, fingers digging harshly into your skin. His wings flare out behind him, shuddering along with his whole body as he keeps himself buried against you.
Slowly, you begin to catch your breath.
Bringing your one hand up, you rub at your face. Blinking a few times to clear your vision, you spare a glance at the seraphim between your legs.
Dark eyes already stare up at you lovingly, a soft chuckle shaking his chest. His fingers smooth over your skin, leaning in once more to place a tender kiss against your clit.
“Good morning, My Beloved.” At the way you simply groan in response, a knowing smile begins to tug at his lips. “Good dream?”
“Mmmh, the best…” Humming, you rub lightly at your eyes. A moment later, you pause in your movements, brow furrowing slightly as you take in just how dark the room still is. “What time is it?”
Seonghwa, who has begun placing tender kisses along the skin of your thighs once more, smiles up at you from between your legs. “Not yet dawn.”
You stretch lightly, brushing a hand over your forehead as you take a deep breath in. “What time did you get in last night? I didn’t hear you come home.”
That single, simple word makes him smile, heart warming inside of his chest.
“Not that long ago.” He noses along your thigh, drifting closer and closer to your core with each movement. “I’m glad my return didn’t wake you. Though, it was a treat seeing you wearing those Tweety Bird pyjama shorts I got you.”
Your face flares with heat, averting your gaze to the side.
“They’re comfy.” You mumble, the cutest of pouts tugging at your lips.
Seonghwa chuckles, a soft expression resting on his features as he admires every inch of you before him. The way your fingers lightly begin to play with some strands of his hair has him leaning into your touch.
A pleased rumble shakes his chest, hands caressing over the sides of your thighs and up your hips. Lightly, his gaze flicks downwards, shifting between staring into your eyes before glancing hungrily at your dripping cunt.
“Beloved…”
The desperate moan Seonghwa lets out goes straight to your core, causing you to clench around nothing. A movement of which he eagerly catches.
“Yes, Seonghwa?”
A shiver caresses his spine as you coo his name so tenderly.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips.
“More.” His voice trembles in need as his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. He pulls your closer, chest beginning to rise and fall dramatically as he stares, transfixed, at your weeping cunt. “Give me more.”
“Greedy little angel…” You chuckle, tracing your fingers over the side of his cheek. “Don’t you know that gluttony is a sin?”
“But I made a mess, Beloved.” Wide eyes peer up at you, a dark lust swirling behind the guise of innocence. “A beautiful, intoxicating mess. It’s only right that I clean you up.”
“You can’t fool me, Angel.” The corner of your lips quirk upwards in amusement, eyes shining as you peer down at him. “I know you only want to clean me up just so you can make a mess out of me again.”
A pout tugs at his features, eyebrows drooping dramatically. “But I love making a mess out of you.”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret, then.” You smile, gently brushing some hair out of his eyes. “I love it, too.”
Seonghwa does not need to be told twice.
Without wasting another second, his tongue is back on you. This time, his movements are a lot slower. More precise. No drop is to go to waste. He wants to take his time, letting you feel every ounce of his love and passion for you. He wants you to know just how much he desires you, and just how much he enjoys this.
Pleased hums escape him as he drags his tongue through your folds, laving his mouth over your entire pussy. Dark eyes lock onto your own as he suckles and licks at your cunt, wings fluttering lightly in the air. His hands creep up your sides, touch trailing against your skin as he shifts to cup your breasts. He pinches at your nipples, rolling the pert buds between his fingers before tugging at them gently.
A low moan parts your lips, arching into his touch. Almost immediately, your hands come up to cover his own, pressing them firmer against your breasts. The content rumble that shakes his chest goes straight to your core, clenching around his tongue as he buries the muscle into your tight cunt.
Curling his tongue, his nose brushes tenderly against your clit. He pinches at your nipples once more, squeezing the flesh of your breasts appreciatively. As your hips begin to grind against him, he smirks. Humming contently, Seonghwa shifts to wrap his lips back around that sensitive little bundle of nerves, suckling lightly before flicking his tongue against you.
Soft moans and whimpers slip passed your lips, fingers returning to his hair to pull him in closer. Your whole body feels as if it’s floating, completely relaxing beneath his touch as pleasure courses through your veins. 
Everything about him is sinful. From the way his dark eyes shine beneath the light of the moon, captivating you in their loving, lustful pools. To the way his hands trace over your skin, burning multiple paths of desire, comfort, safety, and fulfillment all at the same time. You cannot count the amount of times he’s lost himself in you using just his tongue, and you know that tonight is no exception.
Your heart swells with nothing but love as he reaches out for your free hand. Almost instantly, he’s intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing gently. 
He’s right here, and he always will be.
Using his opposite hand, he parts your folds with two fingers. His tongue licks a long strip up your cunt before flattening over your clit. Now that he’s opened you completely to him, there is nothing in the way for him to be able to give you the most pleasure that he can.
A deep groan reverberates against you, hot breaths hitting your cunt with every exhale.
“Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had the pleasure to worship.” A tender kiss is placed upon your clit. “Perfect, delectable little cunt… Only one I’ll ever want. Only one I’ll ever need.”
Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head, thighs shaking from his words. Your fingers tighten in his hair, squeezing his hand in your own as you whimper his name.
“That’s it, Beloved,” He coos, bumping his nose against your clit affectionately. “Say my name. Scream my name to the heavens and tell them who your eternal servant is. Tell them who it always will be. In this life, and the next. For all eternity.”
Your whole body begins to tremble as he wraps his lips around your clit, gently suckling on that sensitive little bundle of nerves. He purposely keeps you suspended in bliss, teetering right on the edge as he watches your whole being flood with ecstasy.
Pride fills his chest at how you whimper and whine for him, your hips desperately rolling against his tongue as he teases at your cunt.
“Tell me, Beloved,” A harsh suck is given to your clit, his eyes flashing as he locks gazes with you. “Who does such a delectable pussy belong to?”
All that you can manage is a desperate moan, chest heaving as that building pressure becomes almost unbearable within you. You can feel your clit practically pulsating, beginning to clench rhythmically around nothing.
“Who’s pretty pussy am I allowed to worship? To devour?”
“Seonghwa-“
“Say it.” Dark eyes flash beneath the moonlight, tone sharp as he growls lowly. “Come on, Pretty Girl. I want to hear you say it.”
Your breath hitches, nearing choking on a whine. Squeezing your eyes shut at the pleasure overwhelming your every nerve, you attempt to steady your shaking form. Taking a deep breath in, you go to speak.
However, the moment the words begin to form on your lips, Seonghwa wraps his own back around your clit, sucking harshly.
“Fuck-“ Inhaling sharply, your eyes fly open. Your voice borders on a scream as you just manage to choke out, “My pretty pussy is all yours to devour-“
Your words get caught in your throat as another loud curse escapes you, tossing your head back onto the pillows.
Seonghwa snarls against your cunt, shaking his head back and forth rapidly as he eagerly continues to suck at your clit. His hands tighten over you, pulling you impossibly closer as his wings flare out behind him.
A scream of his name tears from your throat, whole body shaking as your back arches from the bed. Your orgasm crashes into you unforgivingly, feet lifting slightly in the air from the intensity. Desperate whines and moans of his name escape you, clenching around nothing as your release floods out of you.
Only, Seonghwa doesn’t stop there.
Your cries of ecstasy only serve to spur him on as he slides the two fingers he had been using to spread your pussy open for him into your cunt. The feeling of your walls sucking him in, squeezing around his digits so delicately makes him groan. A shudder wracks his whole body, eyes closing briefly in bliss as his cock throbs against the sheets. Already he’s so close to coming again, but first, he needs to see you falling apart for him again. Because of him.
With practiced ease, he curls his fingers right up against that special spot inside of you. His tongue flicks at your clit, placing delicate kisses against that sensitive little bud before sucking harshly at it once more. The lewd, wet slurping sounds of his tongue on your cunt fill the room, only serving to make him even more feral than he already is.
High pitched moans escape you, tears of pleasure beginning to line your eyes as your whole body shakes beneath his hold. Your thighs squeeze around his head, not even deterring him in the slightest as you wither and whine. Every little touch makes your head spin, pleasure overwhelming your every sense.
You both wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Fuck- Seonghwa!” You gasp out, eyes squeezing shut as you practically curl into his touch. “Don’t stop-“ A catch in your breath as you cling to him for dear life. “Please, don’t fucking stop!”
A snarl of agreement fills the air, adding more pressure to his fingers as he massages over that special spot deep inside of you. His lips never once leave your clit, hooded gaze locked on your figure and practically demanding that you to fall apart for him right now.
With one final flick over your clit, you do.
Like lightning streaking across the sky, your orgasm crackles through your veins like a flash of electricity. Another scream of his name tears from your throat, broken and desperate as you squirt all over his face. Each movement against your cunt has you shuddering beneath his touch, vision blurring at the corners as the first of your tears of pleasure begin to slide down your cheeks.
Your hold on him is like a vice, grounding yourself to him as your chest heaves with every breath. You can feel something warm and wet splatter lightly against your thighs, Seonghwa’s deep moans beginning to harmonize alongside your own.
The way you notice his wings trembling in the air through your blissful haze causes the corners of your lips to twitch upwards. Knowing he’s just as affected as you are right now makes warmth swell inside of your chest, nothing but love flooding your very soul.
Seonghwa rests his forehead tenderly against your thigh while he catches his breath. His head swims with nothing but you, overwhelmed in the best of ways. Every ounce of his desire for you flows beneath the surface of his skin, drowning him in an undeniable ecstasy that only you can bring him. Seeing you like this - your pure and unfiltered form indulging in all that he has to offer - is unlike any other sensation he has ever felt in his entire existence.
He could never tire of this.
He could never tire of you.
Sliding his fingers from your cunt while releasing his hold on your hand, Seonghwa begins trailing kisses back up your body. Each press of his lips against you is soft, taking his time to admire every contour of your body. Every dip and curve of your glorious figure is sacred to him, and he never wants you to forget how beautiful you truly are. 
How beautiful you have always been.
Finally, his lips return to your own, giving you a deep and tender kiss which conveys his undying affections for you. Soft hums are breathed out against you, Seonghwa cupping your cheek gently in one hand while he slides his opposite arm around your waist. Pulling your chest flush against his own, he settles himself comfortably between your legs.
The feeling of his cock sliding through your wet folds, already hard and aching for you once more, makes you smile.
“My insatiable Little Sinner,” You coo, threading your fingers gently through his hair.
“When it comes to you?” His lips quirk upwards against your own, eyes shining with nothing but pure devotion as he openly admires you before him. “Always.”
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The Theraprism: Good or bad?
Ya know, i've never been sure how to feel on the Theraprism, as shown in the Book of Bill. This is in large part because we get very little info on it, from any perspective other then BIll's own at least (and he is...Not a reliable narrator). Personally, I see three possible interpretations and I don't know which one is correct. To be clear, I think all of these are fairly valid: 1. Their methods seem insipid, but are actually quite effective. They seem to have been effective in the past (one of Bill's fellow patients is slated for release in the near-future apparently), and the Axolotl (who, while not exactly rich characterization himself, has, generally, been portrayed as wise and benevolent) referred to it as "what [Bill] needs the most", which would be weird if it doesn't have SOME merit. I, myself, honestly prefer this one, because I think it works better with the narrative of the Book of Bill (a book which, generally, does not encourage the reader to sympathize with Bill's plight. Pity, maybe, but the framing is very clearly that he kinda deserves this) and the schadenfreude the reader is encouraged to feel if Bill's hellish afterlife is, largely if not entirely, a self-inflicted one: That it wouldn't be particularly bad if not for his own combo of being unable to accept that he lost, that he shouldn't be allowed to do whatever he wants whenever he wants to anyone he wants, inability to form meaningful bonds with others, and, most of all, his total inability to admit to being wrong. He COULD leave at any time, if he would just actually repent, but...He's Bill, so...He won't. It just works best for me if his hell is largely self-inflicted. 2. They are harmful, possibly deliberately. This does have a fair bit of support textually. Mandatory therapy is already a pretty major ethical grey area at best (a major tenant of modern psychotherapy is that you can't make someone change unless they take the first step), they definitely engage in toxic positivity, and, of course, the "Solitary Wellness Void" is...Solitary confinement, which is a practice most modern medical institutions oppose and consider to be psychological torture. So, fair bit of support for this. 3. This is what I think was probably Alex's intent: They're a bunch of oblivious obnoxiously happy morons (as Bill himself would probably describe them) whose attempts to treat eons-old eldritch horror bad guys with puppet shows and arts and crafts is meant to be amusingly-inept rather then actively malicious, and whose effectiveness (such as it is) is down to having literally eternity to try. Kinda like what Mabel might do to rehabilitate someone. To use an analogy, think Charlie Morningstar from Hazbin, at least in the first couple episodes, where the fact that she's treating adult criminals like misbehaving children is the joke and is meant to indicate incompetence rather than malice. I get that isn't that much different from the proceeding (except in terms of "how seriously are we supposed to take this"), but still. I think all three of these have support, and, to be clear, I go with the first one not because I think it's the most supported (might be the least), but because it jives most with how I think about BIll's narrative IE as a character we're meant to, at best, pity, but not really sympathize with. I think the intent is "Bill is suffering a karmic self-inflicted punishment after all the pain and suffering he's caused", not "Bill is being medically abused and we should feel bad for him". The Book of Bill does invite readers to sympathize with Bill occasionally, but mostly past Bill, not current Bill. All viewpoints are valid, this is just trying to organized some thoughts on the subject. I sincerely hope I haven't said anything harmful here. Uh, cards on the table, I am neurodivergent, but i've never had therapy, forcefully or otherwise (although I did have an irrational fear of the possibility of institutionalization for a bit), so i'm sorta going off vibes here, sorry to say. If I said anything insensitive here, I apologize.
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voxslays · 6 months ago
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CAN WE BUILD A SNOWMAN? °˖➴
⤷ Featuring >>> Lucifer x Reader; In which, Reader takes it upon themselves to pull Luci out of his depression and into the cool winter snow. °•*⁀➷
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It was a snowy winter morning, the first one of the season to be exact. Lucifer loved snow. It was his favorite type of weather back in heaven. Unfortunately, pride was usually too hot to get even a few inches of snow, so it was crazy that on one of the rare snowy mornings you hadn’t seen Lucifer at all. You knew Luce was still getting over the disappearance of Lillith…but that was seven years ago, and you were tired of him refusing to leave his room. So with a heavy heart, you knock on Lucifer’s door. “Luce…?” You call out hesitantly. 
After a moment of silence, you hear Lucifer sigh heavily from the other side of the door. The lock clicks open, and he stands in the doorway, his tall frame nearly blocking out the light from the hallway. He's still in his pajamas, his blonde hair slightly messy and his eyes tired but alert. “Good morning.” He doesn't respond, simply crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe. His eyes, usually bright red, appear dull under the room's dim lighting. He's trying to give you the cold shoulder, but you know him far too well to fall for that.
“Aww c'mon…you know you want to smile.” His lips briefly twitch upward before he forces them into a frown again, looking over your shoulder at the snowflakes falling outside. "Is there a point to this early morning intrusion?" His voice is trying to maintain its usual smooth tone, but it comes out a bit more gruff than usual. “Have you looked outside? It’s snowing!” You squeal excitedly. His eyes light up despite his attempts to maintain his detached demeanor. Your smile has always been his weakness, the one thing that could make his cold heart flutter. "I can see that." He tries to sound nonchalant but fails miserably.
“C'mon please…?” You beg. He sighs heavily, pushing himself off the doorframe. His movements are slow and reluctant, but he eventually makes his way over to the window. "Fine. But only for a moment." He stands beside you, looking out at the snow-covered grounds of the Morningstar estate. “Yes!” You pump your fist in the air. “I’ll go get dressed.” You run off excitedly. Lucifer watches as you run off with a small smile playing at his lips. He quickly shuts the bedroom door and changes into warmer clothes, knowing full well he's been caught in your enthusiasm trap.
You dash into your room and quickly shut the door, throwing on a pair of jeans and a warm red winter coat, a color of which reminded you of Lucifer’s eyes. When you finish getting dressed into your proper winter attire and head into the foyer, he's already waiting for you. Idly standing by the front door, wearing a thick white coat and a matching crimson scarf. He looks up as you approach, his gaze lingering on the red of your coat for a moment before meeting your eyes. “You look great.” You say, admiring his elegance. He smirks, pulling on a pair of thick gloves. "You always say that." He opens the front door, revealing the winter wonderland outside. He steps out, turning to face you. "Are you ready to freeze?"
“Yes.” You chuckle. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he leads you out into the snow-covered grounds. The cold air hits you immediately, causing your breath to mist in the chilly air. "Alright, let's make a snowman." He says, already starting to roll a large snowball. As Luci rolls the ever growing snowball on the ground, you look at the surrounding scenery. The bright red sky and pentagram is a strong contrast to the fluffy white snow that now coats the ground. The usually hellish black trees are now covered in a layer of white frost. Hell truly has frozen over. 
Lucifer notices your distracted expression and follows your gaze to the wintery landscape. "Quite the sight, isn't it?" He stops rolling the snowball, brushing some snow off his gloves. "A different kind of hell than we're used to." He smirks. “Very different.” You say, gathering a spare black top hat and scarf, placing it onto the snowman Luci had just created. Lucifer chuckles, picking up a carrot and sticking it into the snowman's mouth. "Looks like we have ourselves a dapper snowman." He steps back to admire their handiwork, his breath visible in the cold air. "You know, it's almost...peaceful out here."
You laugh sweetly. “That’s until you go into the city.” He laughs with you, shaking his head. "True." He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to share his body heat. "But out here...it's just you and me." You smile warmly, your cheeks now red from the cold. “We should do this more often.” His expression softens, a smile gracing his lips. "I think I'd like that." He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cold-numbed lips. When he pulls back, his eyes are warm with affection. "Let's go inside and warm up, okay?" He says gently. “Okay.” You roll your eyes playfully, following him inside, into the warmth of the Morningstar Palace.
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writingoddess1125 · 3 months ago
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Mr. and Mrs. Riley
This has been so fun to write so far lol Enjoy!
Part 2 >>>
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x FemReader
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NOTE: It's clear in the story but just in case this will be almost 12-13 years AFTER COD MW2
⚠️ Warnings: ⚠️ Fluff, Angst, Mild Fighting, Knives?
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
You groan softly and roll over still feeling your husband's arm around your waist still. Sluggishly tapping your phone to turn off the hellish alarm before turning back in his arms.
"We gotta get up Lov" Simon grumbled, Pressing his face into the top of your head with a happy sigh, you smile and snuggle into him.
"Five more minutes, or maybe we can just stay in bed today?" You Humm, not bothering to even open your eyes yet.
"Now that does sound like one Hellva-"
As soon as those words started to form the oh so deafening sound of your daughter Lily crying from the nursery could be head and Simon groaned making you smile and look at him- A almost grumpy pout on his face as he had warmed up to the idea of staying home.
"Mine turn isn't it?-"
You chuckle at this, patting his large chest.
"Yep, Go get that diaper Daddy" Simon rolls his eyes as he rolls out of bed, Walking out of the bedroom to get the screaming baby.
You smile as you also get up, grabbing your and Simon's clothes for the day and making the bed.
Simon walks out of the Nursery with Lily tucked in his shoulder, in only a fresh diaper as she seemed to angrily suck on her pacifier it was moments like this her father- squinty eyed and looking ready to fight. Simon patting her back a bit Before walking over to his sons room and flicking on and off the light quickly.
"Wake up boy- Time to get ready for school"
Simon gruff out, Hearing his son groan and roll over- Now walking over and reaching out and grabbed his son by his leg and held him up upside-down like when someone catches a large fish.
Elijah breaking out in a fit of giggles as he is held upside down, Swimming his arms out with a wide smile.
"You awake now?"
"Yes sir!"
"You really really awake?"
Simon says with a smile as he wiggles the boy over the bed hearing the loud laughter from his son before setting him back down the the bed and ruffling his messy hair.
"Good- You know the drill. Shit, Shower Teeth, Clothes"
He says as he walks out, leaving the kid to do the dailies. He sets Lily in her walker, Knowing the plastic and movement would keep her entertained long enough to get ready for the day.
Before walking back in the bedroom- Already hearing you brushing your teeth in the bathroom as he walks in. Smiling at the sight of you.
"Looking Sexy" He flirts as you continue brushing your teeth- Raising a brow and looking to him as he stripped out of his clothes.
"'Ow? (How?)"
"White around your mouth always looks good-"
You smack his arm playfully earning a laugh from Simon as he jumps into the shower, you finishing up your task as you jump in with him.
A quick wash up before the two of you jumped out to get ready.
"Oh are we still doing Rozlin's party this weekend?" You ask calmly as you pull up your leggings
You couldn't help but look at your husband, He was handsome in a sort of rugged way- The slight curve of his nose which looks to have broken and set, A strong jawline and the thing that caught your eye to this day. The extensive black ink that covered his entire body, highly detailed tattoos that covered from his collar bone to his wrist- It wad nearly every part of his upper body that could be covered by his uniform. That and the delicious compression long sleeves he wore everyday-
"Keep looking at me like that Lov' we may have a 3rd faster then planned" Simon chimed out, Giving you a crooked smile which made your face flushed at being caught.
"Faster then planned? You want another baby already? Lily is barely 11 months old- If you're looking for another you better be pushing" You shot back fast as you pulled on your bra and shot him a playful glare.
Simon laughed at this, Waving it off but you saw that twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh and Remember I have the Buissness trip Lov' wouldnt be able to make the party" He cut back to the topic at hand.
"Oh I forgot, Sorry Darling. I'll just tell Rozlin you can't make it, Sure it won't be a problem"
You shrugged it off, seemingly him doing the same. You walking out to see your daughter running around with her walker, bouncing from area to area like a puppy.
Raising a brow at her energy this early you walk into the kitchen to start with some breakfast, Elijah running to his seat as you made him some cereal and greatful for the automatic coffee machine as you poured you and Simon a cup- already nursing the liquid gold as you slid Simon's cup further down next to the car keys at hearing his boots stomping your way-
"Lad your gonna drown in your Kelloggs-" Simon said as he picked his sons head up from his cereal seeing how he had taken to trying to eat as fast as possible milk coating his face which Simon wipes quickly with a paper towel.
He grumbles as he walks over to you placing a kiss on your lips and picks up his coffee.
"Have a good day sweetie" You say happily as he smiles at this, A soft look on his face as he nods.
"Thanks Darling" He says softly, Kissing your forehead as he heads out, making sure to kiss each of his children heads on the way out as he made it to his car. It was unmarked which was standard for military personnel. Glancing at your little 4 door parked in the front with a small smirk, It made him oddly- happy everytime he saw it?
Pulling out of the drive he headed out quickly before sighing heavily, Making it down the street knowing it was just out of your view before grabbing the face mask be kept in the car, and slipped in on as he drove.
Parking in the well secure parking he killed off the coffee he had set in the cup holder. Making a mental not to bring it back inside when he got home- before jumping out.
Walking through the SIS building, his gaze lazily looking around as officers greeting him with respect and a few Captians and other Agents had already come to him with his assistance which he addressed as he walked-
"Major can I ask a few questions?-"
Giving a almost annoyed nod as the- He checked his badge.. Captian spoke.
He hadn't exactly told you his job, knowing it was still fairly dangerous even from a more office based position. Seeing how Cadet in a office ment pushing useless papers, something he figured would ease your mind far more time the higher status he currently held so he had said that- which maybe was wrong however it seemed a bit too late for that.
Taking the files from the man as he walked in his office and closed the door- Knowing that soon meetings, reports and more annoying shit that he cared to admit was coming his way. Glancing at the files in hand calmly.
Seeing so many pages with simply 'Ghost' written on the front- It sort of made him snort a laugh.
He had dropped the Simon Riley with his Military Callsigh- Having found it too risky on missions after a few close calls. Especially now since Simon Riley was who he was at home-
Here he was Ghost.. And it would stay that way-
Ghost plopped down in his seat with a tired sigh.
Glancing to his desk as he saw the old photo of TF 141 and narrowed his eyes on his former Captian.
Price the cheap bastard had fucked off to the middle of nowhere with a pretty wife well over a decade ago insisting Simon take to getting promotions and continuing-
Which he did- If not a bit begrudgingly.
However he regretted it now- Especially after he married you, He had already gotten to Captian when you two had started to date- and he didn't want to pull you into that either.. Now here he was, married just shy of 11 years- two kids and much more responsibility then he cared to admit.
The only upside being he lived fairly close to the SIS building- Got to go home daily and when he did go on assignments it wasn't for months at a time like before.
Sometimes a trade off is worth it-
Even if it ment the responsibility of overseeing all Special Forces- He began to open the files he glanced at the reports deployments, missions, casualties. Same shit, different day. It seemed especially today-
The Shadow Company.
Still a goddamn headache even after all these years. Rolling his eyes at even reading the name, pain in a ass even after being snuffed out..
Even with the group disbanded, the loose ends had never fully disappeared. Some members had been accounted for—dead, detained, or otherwise—but a handful had vanished. Off the grid. Ghosts ironically enough.
However it seemed there had been stirrings again. A few of his teams having come in contact with the echoed remains of the group.
Now reviewing old and new files seeing if he could make any conclusive matches- However it seemed like there wasn't any relation, These were all fresh faced idiots it seemed.
Grumbling under his breath he shuffled the newer files to the side Ghost scans the photos stapled to the older reports to attempt to identify which had been resurfaced due to the newer files, flipping through them a bit mindlessly before stopping.
Narrowing his eyes at a grainy, black-and-white surveillance image upclose of one of the agents, however the heavy duty tactical helment made it damn near impossible to tell who it was paired with it being incredibly old- Assuming early in the groups career under Graves if not before-
However Ghost turns his head to the side, pulling the photo closer to his face as if he could see into the very moment... Something was wrong-
"The Hell.."
He leans in, eyes locking onto one single detail. Around the agent’s neck, from the photo it seemed to have escaped the gear- a necklace. It was Unmistakable. A silver pendant, A very unique pendant.
Ghost knows that necklace... He knows that necklace really well.
Because it was yours.
Because you wore it every damn day since thw first day he met you.
The same one your grandmother had given you the one you’d never taken off.
His stomach drops. His fingers hover over the image, tracing the outline of the pendant. His mind scrambles for any possible explanation-coincidence, mistaken identity- but he knows better.
His wife.
The woman who sleeps beside him. The mother of his children..
Ghost exhales sharply, jaw tightening as he mutters the only thing that comes to mind.
"...Fuck"
- -
"Lily let go of Mommy's necklace-"
You huff as you walk over to the playpen with Lily, Pulling the silver jewlery from your daughter's hand while balancing the phone on your ear as you set her down- handing her the freshly made bottle of formula which she greedily took.
"Sorry Rozlin, Simon has a buissness trip he can't go to the party"
'It's fine (Y/N) I said it was a casual thing anyway'
You still felt a bit bad, However it was a pool party so it wouldn't be too bad.
'Oh! Before I forget, Do you have the toys for the PTA toy charity?'
You close your eyes as you wince to yourself. Having completely forgotten the even for your sons school.
"Shit- I forgot to grab it.. I know there is a tub in the storage somewhere of all those old toys, Simon was suppose to clear it out anyway. Ill grab them and bring them at the meeting tomorrow"
The two of you exchange quick goodbyes as you get off the phone. Cursing a bit to yourself as you walk off to try and venture into the large storage unit outside. Grumbling a bit as you saw the large lock on the front- Remebering Simon had just replaced it.
"I could just pick this bitch..." You mumble, Feeling that itch. Before sighing and shaking your head.
"No- No.. Lets not use that avenue yet"
You curse under your breath, Marching back inside the house as you know Simon keeps the keys in his office- a shitty habit since you hated to invade his space.
"Hang the Keys up Simon- So I don't have to play 'where the fuck are they'- 'I promise Lov I'll do it'- And look at were we are"
You sigh as you enter his office after mocking his voice in the imaginary argument, seeing the stacks of random unmarked military items. You didn't really pay them mind-
Going to his desk you began to look over it, Wondering were he threw the keys this time. Before something orange caught your eye cocking your head to the side you pulled it out from under the keyboard- looking at the file however one thing caught your eye.
'Top Secret' stamped on the upper corner with the British Royal Marines emblem.
He probably ment to take this with him but you looked it over with confusion, Flipping the folder over in your hands.
'He had said he was some low rank officer that pushes paper- This doesn't look like some low rank shit'
You thought to yourself, Flicking through the file as you see different list, reports, and maps- You knew these types of files well.. Too damn well... These were Special Forces docs and one name kept signing off on them.
'Major Ghost-'
Major... Ghost?... Oh why does that name sound so damn familiar?
Your brain stops, Remebering an encountering a soilder like that only once, Wearing a skull mask as everyone called him 'Ghost'. It had been brief encounter but on that stuck out to you, touching the small scar on your shoulder were his bullet had only managed to nic you before you took cover.
'Huh..'
Your breath hitches as you slowly open the file and see a names you had wanted to blank out of your head ... Names of peers you had once traveled with.. Ones you had seen flee like you or die... Slamming the file closed quickly as your heart felt like it was sinking.
Setting the file back you look down at the desk- your eye catching the locked metal draws of his desk, A panic in your chest as you reach up with a shaking hand to search and pull back a paperclip, Bending it as needed as you picked the lock with it.
Cracking it open quickly you see it-
The thing that makes your world shatter and legs give out. Sitting on the floor as you stare at a skull mask... One you had pushed back along with the memories of before who you were today... You reach in and grab it.
'Shit Shit..'
Staring at it silently, slowly rolling up on your feet and walking into the livingroom were Lily was chewing on some plastic teething toys in her playpen, making a loud squeal at the sight of you.
You however sat on the couch slowly, wide eyed as you held the mask almost to your chest.
Zoned out before your phone rang and you almost made you jump from your skin. Picking up quickly as you saw your husband's name-
"Hey Honey?" Your voice was almost watery, still holding the mask in hand.
"Hiya Love- Just called to checkin.."
There was silence again, You being dazed still as if you were speaking to a stranger..
"Darlin' I uh, was wondering something- for.. insurance, did you ever enlist?"
The very air froze in your lungs then..
He Knew..
"I uh yeah for a little bit.. on and off. Was doing some work for a.. weird company at the time. Weird times"
You hear a soft 'Huh' from your husband and a grumble.
"I actually had a question too... I was looking for the Storage keys in your office, and um- I thought you said you were a lower rank?"
There was silence on the line.
"Yeah.. Just uh didnt want to talk about any promotions-" He admitted, His voice stiff and almost authoritative with you.
"Huh.. Strange..."
There was silence once again, Before you coughed and tapped your fingers on your leg.
"What time will you be home Darling?"
You say calmly, slowly setting the mask down and wiping your hands from the invisible stains on it.
"5, I'm picking up Elijah from his football (soccer ⚽️) practice today-"
"Right.. Well I'll see you then Darling. I love you"
You say softly, Running your hand over your hair as you bit your bottom lip.
"I love you too.."
He said softly before hanging up.
It felt like time was moving too slowly- or two fast. You couldn't tell, however you tried to maintain some normalcy as you cleaned up the house, did some grocery shopping and took care of Lily almost trying to distract yourself from what you were sure was the end of your marriage.
When the clock struck 5pm you head the door open and close with enthusiasm- Your son covered in grass stains and dirt come in kicking off his cleats at the door as he jumps up and down excitedly.
Talking about his coach said he was improving and all wonderful things however you stared at your husband. Simon gave a tight smile at you, as you walk over and give him a soft hug at least to give your children the illusion of normalcy, A single arm wrapping around you to pull you close.
It felt different however... Tighter as if he was making sure you couldn't move too much. Seeing how his free hand turned towards you just so you could see the close up photo of a agent, knowing damn well it was you- Your eyes sliding up back to his face.
"Busy Day?"
"Mhm.." He hummed, His hand sliding up from his 'Hug' to the back of your neck softly like he was prepared to kiss you but didnt and pulling at your silver necklace softly to bring it out from your shirt with his pinky.
"Very-"
You swallowed thickly and closed your eyes- Immediately knowing how he figured you out. You glance to the side, Right at the coffee table making sure his eyes followed-
"I'm sorry to hear that Darling"
Simon looks at the mask sitting perfectly on the coffee table, before his eyes flicked back to you.
"I see you have been to-"
You nod, before gently pulling from his hold and turning back to your Children- Fear creeping in your throat as your mind went a thousand miles an hour.
"Mummy what are we gonna have for dinner?" Elijah ask finally as he rushes to the kitchen to probably snag some form of snack he shouldn't be having. However that's the least of your concerns.
"I thought we could have some take away tonight. Nice little treat"
You say sweetly, Smirking at your son jumps up and down in excitement at this. You touching his dirty hair as you send him off upstairs to wash up.
...
You glance to the side seeing Simon staring at you hard.
"... Lov You know- I have the damndest question to ask you"
He almost grits out, You giving a curt smile yourself.
"And what would that be My Dear?"
There was no movement before Simon swung suddently to your left arm, You saw the glint of silver and your pulled back as you pulled your low tactical blade and blocked it fast. Feeling the hit and how it rattled your arm from the force-
Your eyes dilating as you looked to his face and down to his knife seeing the back end facing you, Seeing quickly this wasn't to harm. It was to confirm and see if you were armed-
"You son of a b-"
"Mummy Daddy!"
You both spin around perfect to look at your son weapons behind both your backs.
"Mummy I forgot to ask what Kind of take away are we getting?" He asked innocently and with a big smile.
"Indian" "Chinese"
You and Simon say at the same time. Before glancing to each other.
"Chinese?" "Indian?"
Elijah looks at you two confused, Simon stepping forward as he waved a hand at your son.
"We are figuring it out, Go shower alright?"
Elijah shrugged at this and rushed back to the shower. You sighing heavily and pulling the knife from behind your back as Simon does the same.
"We- Will have this 'Talk' After bed okay?"
You finally say, Simon nodding in agreement before you walked off from your husband who headed to his office silently not before grabbing his mask from the table as well.
Simon going into his office, closing the door behind him as he set the papers and knife on his desk and his mask in hand.
Plopping down as he stared at his mask-
He stared at it, feeling that creeping feeling going back through him. Cold indifference at a lost life that he only showed at work and not at home- pulling his eyes off and towards his hands as he messed with his wedding band.
Simon knew he should have told you about his past, However it didn't want to bring his demons into what he saw as his fresh start. He had always been.. Vague and since you never pushed for it he figured it was a no ask situation. We don't bring our past up and just take this future as is.
However he should have known better.. No normal person who would be fine with just never talking about their past in the fullest... He hadn't even told you about his family which you seemed to have accepted as he did you not talking about yours.
He groaned as he laid back staring at the ceiling.
'This is bullshit-'
You ordered some Indian food for Delivery and stood in the kitchen with your hands shaking, So close to breaking down. Rubbing your hands over your face as you stood in the kitchen.
"This is a cluster fuck.." You mumble under your breath. Before looking to your daughter who was in her bouncer drooling on herself, Staring at her as she looked up at you. Those big eyes just like her father and a goofy smile on her lips.
Feeling like this was your fault, You hadn't really brought up your past much- Had given basics like were you where born, nothing about your family, briefly mentioned you traveled the world and then decided to settle down.
You didn't know how long you stood there.. Long enough for your son to dress himself, plop down in the livingroom and watch some cartoons without a care in the world.
It didn't take long for the food to arrive, you grabbing the large bags of everything and setting up the dinning table.
"Dinner!" You called out, Setting up plates as you dished out everyone's food like you normally did- Simon walking in first eyeing you hard as you returned the same.
You sliding his unopened bag of food knowing he liked to eat out of the tub at times, him walking to you standing painfully close as if he knew it made you uneasy as he grabbed some of the sauce packets.
Sighing heavily you try to ease yourself, Till you feel his hand drift across your back right were your holster was of the hidden knife and you snatched his wrist from behind your back- It looked almost close to a lovers moment.
"Thats stupid and dumb.. even for you" You all but hissed so he could only hear as you gesture with your chin Elijah rushing to the kitchen.
Watching Simon as he smirked at you. Seemingly satisfied as you released his hand. Getting back to cutting up little bits of food for Lily as you set her in her high chair.
You two had been quiet after that-
Painfully quiet.
However it seemed neither of you wanted scare your children you continued with your nightly activities. It didn't mean that both of you weren't tense as you two ate.
"Come on Lili, let's not wear the lentils" You hum softly as you give another tiny spoonful of the curried letals to your daughter who was hellbent on at least distracting you from the tension.
That was till Simon reached his large tattooed arm over and pulled her high chair over and nodded to you and held out his hand for the bits of food for your guys daughter.
"Let Mum eat, I got her"
You two stared at eachother. Almost awkward before you gave a watery smile in return and hand him the pink plastic bowl and spoon.
"Thank you Love "
It had been a fairly quiet dinner besides Elijah talking about everything he could think of, Both you and Simon however doing the normal routine. Getting both kids washed up, Showering- now in seperate showers then getting both children ready for bed.
"Goodnight sweetie"
You say softly, Kissing Elijah head as he fell asleep tucked into bed.
Simon stepping out of the Nursery as well after making sure Lily was asleep. Both of you looking at each other, Before you walking first back to the bedroom and Simon followed behind you. You going to your side of the bed as you rubbed your face from stress.
Simon takes a heavy breath, glancing out of the shared bedroom to make sure non of the kids have decided to jump out of bed for some reason as he closed the bedroom door and locked it.
It was like a heavy suffocating blanket had fallen over the both of you then.
"So.. The Shadow Company?" Simon said first, You giving a slight wince at the name before trying to shrug nonchalantly.
"Temporarily... Moved to KorTac after a bit.. So 141?"
Simon clicked his tongue and nodded.
Now meeting your eyes, and for a second you didn't see your husband- and you felt your chest harden like it wore that Kevlar once more. Simon also not seeing his wife for a second at the hardened look you gave him after a moment.
“Should I be worried?” he finally asks, voice dry, but there’s a flicker of almost sadness in his eyes as he crosses his arms and stares hard at you.
“Dunno...” You say softly with what could only be described as a chill up your spine as you bit your lip like wanting to hold back tears.
“...Should I be worried?”
There was a fallen silence for another second before He reached to his side, Lifting his shirt and pulling the large combat knife from its hidden holster before tossing it to the bed-
You staring at him before pulling up your night slip and pulling the same knife from its hidden holster and carefully set it on the bed as well.
....
Bringing your hands together you begin to mess with your necklace anxiously- Simon staring at you as his first Instincts was to go over and wrap his arms around you but held back.
"Truce?" You ask softly, Simon nodding silently.
"Truce.. Now I do think a conversion is in order"
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toxycodone · 10 months ago
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Oh my godddd. Laios would be so good at helping someone lay eggs 😭 he’d be so encouraging and his voice is so comforting. I’m getting like. Soft horny over this
"It's okay...I got you."
Laios's voice is oddly calm despite the situation at hand, but much appreciated. Another sharp pain tears through your abdomen, causing you to yelp, burying your face into the tallman's shoulder. His presence behind you keeps you grounded in reality. You're more than thankful he's here with you. You're unsure you could do this without assistance.
Laios frowns when he hears your sounds of discomfort. A gentle kiss is placed to your temple, before his large hands start to press against your stomach. He's feeling for the buldge lodged in there, searching with care for where the egg may lie inside you. When he finally starts to prod against the outline, the blonde smiles.
"Found it." He hums. His warm breath fans against your skin. You try to focus on that feeling, along with the callouses on his hands, to distract yourself from the pain. He starts to massage the area, coaxing the egg from within you. The feeling makes you grit your teeth--but you do feel it start to move.
"Good, good. You're doing great." Laios encourages you, a soft smile on his face. He raises your hips, then spreads your legs out further. One hand trails down your thigh, now massaging the fat of that area as he trails closer and closer to your groin.
"Laios..." You choke. The tears that threaten to spill from your eyes make it hard to see due to your rapid blinking keeping them at bay. "What are you...?"
"Shh, it's okay." He kisses your cheek now. You can feel the egg pressing through the canal of your slit. A little more pushing will do the trick, but from the object's size, you know it won't be easy. The beginning was barely the worst part.
The blonde uses one hand to rub the upper part of your groin as the other dives between your folds. He gathers a little lubrication, then uses his fingers to rub circles into your clit. The sensation makes you jump. All the blood rushing in between your legs has seemed to make you hypersensive--which explains why this birthing process has been so hellish.
"That feels better, right? Just a little more and you'll be done." The callouses on his fingerpad add the most delicious sense of texture as he continues to pleasure you. The pain is still there, but it steadily becomes a more bearable ache as you continue to get more aroused. You lean back against Laios, now trying to relax as you let out a soft moan.
"That's it. Just like that. You're doing fantastic." His voice is husky, lips lingering against your skin with each word. "You look so beautiful like this..." Laios lets out a shaky moan as he feels the egg move a bit, but he's quick to not let himself get lost in his own arousal. You need him right now.
"You're almost there. I'll keep making you feel good, so just relax." Another wave of pain is depressed by him stroking the underside of your clit, trying to pay attention to the sensitive nub poking from under the hood. "You can do that for me, yeah?"
Your legs are wobbly, body hot from a mix of lustful fever and what you can only think of as birthing hormones, but you manage to steady yourself. You breathe in through your nose, then let your breath harshly blow past your lips.
"Yeah. I-I can--" You're cut off by another cramp. Laios quickly picks up his pace to aid in it subsiding.
"You're so good for me. I'm gonna make sure you don't regret this."
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ruesol · 5 months ago
Text
Lucid Submission - prologue
(feudal lord!sukuna x reader)
Synopsis:
The fearsome demon king, Sukuna Ryomen, is reborn as an immortal human man as punishment for ruining the balance of good and evil in the divine realm.
To lift his curse and return to his original form, Sukuna must complete the condition bestowed upon him by the deities.
However, it requires him to have a child with the street thief who stole his coin pouch.
fanfic masterlist
Inyo, ying and yang, Shiva-Shakti, good and evil. 
Every belief is built based on the balance between opposites. When that balance is tipped over or disrespected, there are serious repercussions, no matter what being committed the act. 
The demon king’s hair was like pink sakura, blowing in the harsh winds of the Realm of  Judgment. With his head hung low, all he could see were visions of the souls he had eaten. Clean souls trying to enter the afterlife. Clean souls that had the misfortune of having to cross his domain when he was feeling particularly ravenous.
The divine courtroom was a beautiful yet chilling site, with golden clouds and striking blue thunder visible from the Pavillion of Divine Punishment. A dry storm building static on every cursed hair on the demon king’s body. 
“The deities have decided- you will receive the ultimate punishment for ingesting all the human souls on that fateful day,” a black-haired god boomed from his seat across the Pavillion. Striking black eyes trained on the large figure kneeling before him.
“You, Sukuna Ryomen, will be reborn as an immortal human being. You will not have any of your divine powers on earth. To lift your cursed punishment, you will look for the other half of this divine marble.” 
A bluish, almost black, hemispherical object floats towards Sukuna’s face. The demon still didn’t look up. Pride and shame conflict in his head. “Only when you meet the human woman with the other half of your marble will you be allowed to lift your curse and return to your former glory. You are allowed one question regarding your curse. Ask wisely.”
Sukuna raises his head slowly, eyes filled with hatred and vengeance. “How will I know that the human has my pearl?”
“The eyes. The human will have eyes like no other.”
The hearing was then concluded with the thunderous slam of the Divine Mallet. 
Snow is a natural cushion for all kinds of sounds. Even the loudest of pants sound like whispers, which is why the entire town of Seion is so quiet this winter morning. Thick heaps of snow decorated the landscape of the little sanctuary in the valley, including a far-off estate at the edge of the dwelling.
Where a damned man screamed his lungs out. Centuries of pain evident in his bellows. His pale skin almost blended with the snow if it weren’t for the pitch-black tattoos decorating his rippling muscles- a reminder of the reason why he was banished to earth. His back flexed as he rose from his kneeling position. His much shorter servant, whose hair matched the exact shade of snow (save for the red stripe passing around their crown) presently on the ground, wrapped a thick robe around his shoulders.
“Master, you are a human being. They are fragile and get sick easily. Please, let us go inside.” 
The man wordlessly pushes off the robe from his brawny shoulders. Red eyes come in contact with the servant’s deadpanned ones. “Three hundred years. It has been three hundred years of looking for that hellish pearl. Where am I going to find it? I searched far and wide in all the lands and visited every brothel my pathetic human eyes could find, yet no one had the pearl. I have been driven to gouge out the eyes of every supposed beautiful woman. I am starting to believe that the deities are playing a cruel joke.” 
The servant simply picked up the snow-covered robe and folded it before the dampness could freeze it. “It is not a cruel joke, my Lord. They would not have given us the Scroll of Promise if it were so.” 
Promptly, the servant pulled out a tattered sheet of paper and read out what was written on it. Ancient scripture rolling off his tongue. “For the Demon’s return, he must fulfill the condition bestowed upon him by the Divine Council–bring upon the entirety of the cursed marble to the holiest temple in the land. The other half lies within one of the many mortal souls created by the deities.” 
“You do not need to repeat the words of those unforgiving scoundrels.”
“Do not speak ill of the Divine if you wish to return to your former glory.” 
The larger male stalked back into his estate sans robe. Probably to look for another brothel on the map. The search continues.
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Imagine Law accidentally hurting you with ‘shambles’…
It was an accident.
Law was focused on the bounty hunter, determined to put the man in his place after the hunter had launched a surprise attack on his crew.
Law knew that there was no better opportunity to do so while his Heart Pirates kept the rest of the attackers at bay.
What he didn’t know was that you had broken away from the fight to find him.
…not until it was too late.
Law had the enemy pinned inside a blue dome. Cockiness exuded as Law also summoned the ruins of a stone and wood house that sat abandoned on the edge of the shore. He had it poised above the head of the trapped man.
The bounty hunter hardened his resolve and lunged forward to escape the bubble and swipe at the Heart Pirate.
But Law was faster. “Shambles.”
The house disappeared. The bounty hunter disappeared. Your wide eyes met his before, they too, disappeared.
No… how had he not seen you? Why were you even here?
Rushing over to the edge, Law’s hands gripped the rails lest he accidentally launch himself over. He saw the field in the distance where the teleport had taken place. He saw the debris and a dark figure underneath. But as he watched gravity bring the wood splinters to earth, he recognised that the dark figure was in fact comprised of two bodies before they were swallowed by the house.
A scream ripped through Law’s throat and he wasted no more time. He hurled himself over the barrier, airborne for a few moments before his feet found purchase on the hard ground. Then he sprinted - heart in his throat, fear replacing his blood as it pulsed in his ears.
What had he done?
Every speeding step forward felt agonisingly slow but he pushed through until he reached the damaged field. Had he been thinking straight, Law would have done a scan of the area and found you. But he was hardly thinking (or breathing) when his fears won out and he cast his sword aside. Then, like a madman, Law clawed at the broken wood and shattered glass desperate to find you.
A minute passed. Then two. Then five. Each second passing with dread and attacking what small shred of hope he held onto.
He screamed for you, begging that it would rouse you enough to make a sound but he was met with silence.
Law grabbed a thick wooden plank and raised it carefully, blood-stained glass rolling off its edges like a hellish waterfall. That’s when his eyes caught a familiar fabric. It was the hem of your pants. The one he grew to admire over the course of your stay on the Polar Tang.
With a harsh movement, Law tossed the beam away revealing a small space in the mess. It should have relieved him now that he had found you - but it didn’t.
Your body was littered in scrapes and blooming bruises but, worst of all, you had been pierced by thin metal bar in your thigh.
Law crossed the space carefully. He bent down and touched your face, moving away the loose bits of glass. He expected your skin to be as cold as death but there was a warmth… better yet, there was a pulse and faint, haggard breaths.
He hadn’t killed you.
The relief that he felt escaped his body in a sob. Looking around wildly, Law needed something sharp to cut around the pole so he could get you out. His sword was somewhere at the top of this mess but he refused to leave your side.
And as if by a miracle, a large polar-bear shaped shadow appeared holding the very blade he had been in need for.
Bepo tossed him the sword and Law made two decisive slashes against the metal which effectively freed you from being pinned. Setting the sword down, he carefully threaded an arm under your knees and behind your back before lifting you as he stood. With slow steps, Law got you through the clearing onto safer lands. Bepo had been telling him about the crews success with the bounty hunters. The bear also expressed his regrets in being unable to stop you from rushing to aid Law mid-battle.
But it fell on mostly deaf ears. Law was only occupied with your health. He wanted to summon another room and teleport you to safety aboard the Polar Tang. But when he let the thought enter, his vision was clouded by your face and the few precious seconds of fear in your eyes when you knew it was too late to escape.
No. He wouldn’t let his powers hurt you.
Never again.
~ More imagines here ~ (for more One Piece)
A/n: Writing angst at 5am? Okay, brain.
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neonovember · 5 months ago
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Okay hear me out, how would carmen react to someone he's dating being a "picky eater" that has a VERY limited diet due to sensory issues👀
This is totally not self-indulgent /s
Eeeee
carmen berzatto x reader
enjoy some bear fam ribbing and carmen carmen carmen
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honestly I think he’d be interested if anything! His mind is constantly on overdrive thinking of recipes and foods and the combinations of flavours, and how to change this and tweak that. He could run on fumes, just a jar of tums and his notebook and spend the night brainstorming dishes. We’ve all seen it, it might be a way for him to distract from the hellish that is his social life outside the Bear, by bringing it home too. So when he meets his girl, who’s got a palate that is entirely different to anything he’s seen before he takes it as almost a challenge to push himself to produce something amazing, creative and yours.
You’re his girl, he has this carnal need to take care of you, and can you imagine if you were nervous or worried about what he might think??? No he’d run his thumb along your thigh, while you're on either side of him wrapped in the covers that were warm from the morning sun and just raise his eyebrows and snicker in that way he does. And it hit him that your exes were dipshits and never listened to you and he’d gather you in his arms and murmur how you could watch him cook for you every day if you wanted to.
And he held true to that, he’d sit you down on the counter after hours in the Bear later that night. You’d sneak in, when you’re craving for something that the places around you can’t offer and Carmen is just fucking itching to serve you food and show off his fucking Michelin talent.
It would be a ritual, you watching and him making. He’d serve it to you all pretty and clean, leaving his serving to be eaten from the pan. And he watches every expression on your face, every quirk and flick of your eyebrow and he’d know, god he’d know what you were thinking in that moment. If you liked it or not, if it triggered one of your senses into overdrive and had you trying to hide the way your teeth scraping against a certain component left you shivering in disgust.
He’d know and he’d rush to give you water and make you spit it out despite your protests. And you shake your head in anger at the things you can’t control and Carmen will sit with you on the floor of the Bear and he’d smile in that way he does, as he’d ask about every part and force it out of you until he’d be changing the meal entirely. 
Showing you the things you can control which was making your boyfriend who cooked for a living, cook.
He’d be protective over you I feel like, after you tell him bad experiences that had ruined your relationship with food. Making sure no one gave you shit about it, always on guard, eyes in slits and voice gravelly when waiters double check your order or look anywhere but their fucking notepad.
The team is a whole other situation… I imagine it to be a whole team involved in a sit down investigation, an entire intervention by them because they are just so confused and scared (which is actually hilarious) that you were barred from eating certain foods or something.
-- -
“Okay, okay, how about pasta alla vodka” Tina muses, a grin pulling at her jaw as she leans back against the cheap plastic chairs that were reserved for the house.
“Nop, don’t like those bits of tomato they leave in the sauce” You shrug, chewing on your straw as you watch the way the rest of the team rears back in dismay.
Tina’s face drops, stubbornly pulling out a dollar bill and slapping it into Richie's grinning face.
“I thought I had it dammit” Tina groans, muttering about losing to a fake Italian divorcee who skimped her out of a chocolate bar.
You're all scattered in the back of the Bear, popcorn and peanuts are littered amongst half emptied bottles of beers on the large metal table that spans across the room. The Bear had been closed today, some sort of team building attempt at brainstorming new ideas for the menu and the Bear itself. 
Much to the annoyance of the rest of the crew, who had to make the commute in a freezing Chicago winter on a day that was supposed to be a break, somewhere along the fights that erupted at every suggestion and the stubbornness that remained in each of the team it did feel a little like family bonding.
At least it felt like it now, as they all collectively came together to study you.
That's where you found yourself, being pulled into the never calm-always-catastrophic environment of the Bear thanks to Carmen. You had protested at first, thinking you would be out of place in the sea of decorated chefs but as your phone dinged with messages from Syd and Richie, the latter earring on a very thinly veiled threat to ‘be there or i'll come and get you’ you found yourself throwing on a too thin jacket and knocking against on the Bear’s ‘closed’ sign after your shift.
You were greeted with the warmth of the Bear, breathing it in deeply before you realised that the smoky heat of the restaurant was as much fueled by the temperamental crew screaming out obscenities in the back as much as the radiator Fak had somehow fixed for the 15th time.
You didn't quite understand how you got here, you in the middle, and the team surrounding you firing out questions about your less than conventional palate. 
Carmen's disgruntled protest against the team channeling some sort of crud rip off of True Detective did little as the team went around listing dishes from escargot to cheese on bread to get your opinion. 
It was downright ironic, you know this. You are someone who couldn't stand the texture and smell of certain foods to the point of having them struck from your diet with a man whose entire life was surrounded by, and birthed from the complexities of texture and taste.
“It’s one of the stables of Italy!’ Richie barks, stuffing the dollar bill into his pocket hile shaking his head. 
The beer he had opened had gone cold in his hand since the beginning of the conversation. He couldn't stop his mouth from remaining hung open after every shake of your head and shrug of your shoulders towards the meals they loved.
You wondered if chefs have the same value systems as other..tightly knit organisations. One where disrespect leads to your swift removal…off the face of the earth. You don’t let yourself forget that they are skilled in the goddamn wielding of knives no matter their friendly chiding, you might be one shake of your head away from being prepared in all the ways you hate your food to be.
Carmen looked at you, his eyes straining across your body to check if you felt uncomfortable. He knew your tells almost as well as you know, and he'd be quick to shut it down and take you back home if need be. But as your eyes meet his, and the squint of a smile reaches them he shakes his head, mouths a “goddamn idiots”, and rolls his eyes at his families curiosity.
“Listen, I get that, I don't like bits of bone in my meat. But surely, for a dish that you know I know you know tastes like the fucking gates of heaven, you can make an exception” Syd blinks, her face filled with expectation, like she thought it was obvious.
You’re giggling at Sydney words, “Is this reassurance for me or for you”
“Me. It’s for me” Syd gulps, blinking as she registers the truth
“I just can’t eat food, no matter how good you guys tell me it is, that fucks up my sensory issues-”
“Alright, yeah, sensory issues, darling I bet if i could bring you to ONE dinner, one of our dinners at Carmen's Ma's we could easily persuade you-”
“Jesus fucking Christ-”
“No, no look Carmen. This is your woman ain't she? How can you let her walk around without letting her taste the delicate crossroads that produce Chicago- Italian cuisine? I mean you're seriously failing-”
“Fuck you”
“Goddamn fake”
The irony of it all was, you and Carmen had both met at a farmers market. Surrounded by food you wouldn't eat, at a place you didn't frequent, all for one particular food you did eat. And somehow, despite passing by 95% of vendors without even a swipe of your eye against their delicate colors and shapes, Carmen had bumped into you.
And he had apologies and you had crouched down to collect the runaway potatoes and fruits that tried to escape through his pouch, and your fingers had collided when you looked up to see the man who had interrupted your 15 minute venture.
Through the blurted out line of apologies, Carmen had stopped and looked at you and tried to reopen his hanging mouth. And you sat there half amused and half worried he was having a stroke.
“I know this is forward and you can tell me to go to hell, but could I take you out sometime?”
You had caught the last of the disobedient root vegetables when you raised your eyebrows in surprise, and let yourself be shocked again as you said yes.
Carmen had nodded and smiled when you told him you weren't exactly experimental with your diet, wanting to get it out of the way when you found out he was a chef and your sensory issues had been a problem for people who didn't make food for a living.
You expected the same ritual, the same dance of having to explain your diet to people and wait for them to actually understand that your pickiness wasn't just the usual ‘dislike’, but a very real thing that impacted how you eat everyday. You had no choice in it, that's what you told them every time and they had rolled their eyes and thrown your words in your face as they compared you to a petulant child that didn't want to eat their vegetables. You sighed and they did too, as they watched you flip every menu to the page for children and you cringed as the waiter looked around for your child and realised it was you.
Carmen was different though, of course he was. He didn't let his surprise go hidden, as he asked about every food you disliked and everyone you did. Noone before asked, they simply resolved to assume your diet was constricted in the small section of the kids meal. But Carmen asked, he did all night when you had brought it up after he asked to cook for you. Sitting on your couch, talking about you, and your diet, and your sensory issues for hours until he knew everything about them.
Until he simply nodded, and wrote something in his notebook and asked if you were still free on Thursday.
Of course the family was teasing, and of course they’d all tweak any dishes you were craving so that they weren't overloading your senses in any way. You’ve got a reserved seat at the Bear, and all your favourite dishes on standby if you ever wanted to come in to find something that didn't set you off and leave you anxious and sensitive.
It gets to an alarming rate of you coming in nearly every other day, in which Richie, Carm Syd and every other person in the Bear constructed some under the table deals with dea by restaurants to accommodate your sensitivities. They all like to feign ignorance when you walk in the next day all smiles, showing off your little takeaway box from the Portuguese spot you had so desperately to try before the stark textures and flavours of the menu you perused dashed the thought away.
Carmen hated seeing that excitement turn into defeated acknowledgement of the barriers you had around food. But also, in the same breath, Carmen knows how certain textures and tastes can trigger you into getting over-stimulated, leading to becoming frazzled and irritated. Which is exactly why he would never let you push yourself too far, supporting you if you ever wanted to try it out but immediately taking the dish away from you when he realised your heart was racing too quick and you were getting stiff..
“Baby, easy. Need you to go slow, yeah?”
“Alright, that’s enough. You did good sweetheart, I’m proud of you. Lemme make you something for tonight though yeah? Something you like?”
The truth was there were going to be some days where both Carmen's creativity, and your sensory issues outdo him. You were okay with that though, you were still catching up to reality that someone loved you enough to fit their life around yours.
And then Carmen copied your meals for a week when you told him this, until the Bear was relying on his memory of taste and you finally agreed that yes, there was no fitting needed.
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generisydtoo · 2 months ago
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Thinking about Vi physically closing up when her thoughts start going down a dark path of guilt and self-blame, and Caitlyn being the one to pull her out of it, literally opening Vi’s eyes….
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Also thinking about Caitlyn’s actions and words in these scenes. Towards the beginning of the first scene, she says “What happened to her, it’s not your fault”(s1e8). Vi opens up about Powder, finishing with “Then a real monster showed up, and I just ran away. I left her.” In response, Caitlyn caresses Vi’s face, which I read as her reassuring Vi of these words, and just wanting to provide comfort.
This act of comfort means a lot, considering Vi’s time in prison was full of the opposite— punching the walls and hurting her fists, getting into fights, and being beaten by the guards, all the while she blamed herself for what happened to her family, especially Powder falling into Silco’s hands (Vander’s words, “Whatever happens, it’s on you”(S1e1) were brewing in her head for 7 years, and when she got out); it was a hellish combo of self-blame and physical and mental pain. So for Vi to be vulnerable after so long, and be met with positive reassurance and comfort after so long likely meant a lot to her.
In the s2e8 scene, Vi’s thoughts go down that dark path self blame and guilt. (We also see her punch the wall when Jinx leaves, and the wounds on her knuckles when Cait arrives at the cell). I think people forget, sometimes, her saying “I choose wrong every time, and because of it, I lost everyone” wasn’t just referring to her releasing Jinx. She tries to do the right thing (or the thing she perceives as the right/ok), and it backfires. Leading Powder and the others on that mission to Jayce’s apartment, turning herself in to Grayson, leading the mission to save Vander, telling Cait to hold the shot, joining the enforcer strike team, etc— all things she did with good intentions that ended in tragedy. As the viewers, we know that while Vi is responsible for her actions, the horrible outcomes weren’t completely her fault, especially the things that were out of her control (Ekko and Caitlyn even tell her this in S1), but Vander’s words that “whatever happens is on you”(s1e1) have been cemented in her mind for years (along with being parentified at a young age).
In response, Cait says “Do you think I needed all the guards at the Hexgates?” letting Vi know she let Jinx escape, and choosing Vi over her quest for revenge on Jinx (which is a great change from S2 Act 1. Tell a friend to tell a friend: our usual Caitlyn is baaack!). Of course to Vi, this is a large act of love, considering Jinx is her sister, and was the top priority for the majority of her life; Vi would give her life to protect her sister (which we’ve seen).
(Side note: I noticed both of these moments happen in the eighth episode of their respective seasons…..Something about 8 being the number of infinity and balance…Thinking abt Caitlyn and Vi and their infinite love and how they balance each other out…)
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cillivnz · 2 years ago
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𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑨𝑪𝑹𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻
[𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪]
PAIRING — PRIEST!NANAMI KENTO x NUN!READER
SYNOPSIS — you shift across continents hoping to leave all behind that drifted you apart from the Lord, only to catch the sole reason of your departure waiting for you patiently, with a rosary in one hand and his cock in the other.
WORD COUNT — 2878
WARNINGS — NSFW. MODERN AU. OOC!KENTO (kinda). RELIGIOUS IMAGERY, THEMES & RELIGION IN GENERAL. BLASPHEMY, sacrilege, impure thoughts, cursing, sins & sinning, sex in a church, indecent use of the confessional, DUBCON. oral (m! receiving), fingering, clit-play, biting, nipple/breast-play, unprotected and penetrative sex (p! in v!), overstimulation, against a wall (?), voyeurism, degrading. NANAMI HAS A GOD COMPLEX. there is repetitive mentions of religious themes throughout the smut, from praying to other things.
A/N — GOOD GOD. i’m asking you all for forgiveness, but i needed to do this. i intended it for leon kennedy but something in me snapped and i changed it to a nanami kento fiction, WHICH IS WHY THERE IS MENTION OF A CHRIS REDFIELD, i was too lazy to change it and also i didn’t want to incorporate too much from the JJKverse, so we’ll just leave Redfield at that.
i am NOT anti-religion, this is a common fantasy and i just wished to try my hand at this sinister trope. please refer to the warnings and DO NOT PROCEED if anything mentioned makes you uncomfortable. apologies in advance for any inaccurate detail written. not proofread.
art credits — unknown [pinterest]
LISTENING TO: ‘THE SACRAMENT’ — HIM
[therefore the title].
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𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘, but you knew the Lord only wanted what was best for you, and so a new chapter in your life had begun.
A woman above materialism, you leave with only your bible and habit, but of course, you carried the last memory of your past life— a photograph your Sisters took of you and Father Redfield from your hometown, the church you had sworn celibacy to, near the Arklay Mountains.
You loved Chris— Father Redfield, the way you’d love the angels of the almighty, but at times this love prevented you from preaching, causing you to often ponder on your style of living, and the fact that doubt settled in your god-driven mind became the primary reason why you decided to move away, all the way to Tokyo.
Your feelings for Father Redfield made you question your vows to chastity, and you knew at once you needed to get away. So, you left the mountainous foliage at once and settled for the noisy city.
Upon arriving, you were welcomed by a ‘Sister Nobara”, with a soft face and piercing gaze, but none that lingered.
She walked you through the large and lonely halls of the massive church. The infrastructure of your hometown’s place of worship couldn’t compare to Tokyo’s, perhaps the difference in population was the reason why.
Throughout the walk to the nave, you felt an ominous sense of being watched— no, preyed upon, but you and your naïveté blamed it on your nerves. It worsened while you said your prayers, seeking forgiveness for the note on which you left: that doubt and urgency to succumb to hellish pleasures with the priest that couldn’t even reciprocate a smile back to you.
“Ah, there comes Father Kento,” Sister Nobara interrupted the last of your calls to the Lord, the one where you beseeched to attain enough strength to never succumb to lust. You quickly muttered a, “Amen”, and turned to Nobara. You looked at her for a brief moment, before your gaze followed hers and landed on the most devilishly handsome man you had ever seen.
Hell, you had to leave your home over a man who, now, you realise, isn’t even half as attractive as the man towering over you.
You backed away when the sudden proximity hit you, your subconscious mind immediately associating that eerie feeling in your gut with the presence of this man.
“Hello,” his deep voice broke the silence. “Greetings, Father,” you quickly averted your lingering stare onto the wooden floor. There was a stroke of amusement tainted in his tone, “Sister Nobara tells me you come from the Arklay Mountains.”
“She’s right,” you confirmed, still not eyeing him.
He nodded along, eyes still etched on your face.
“Father, if you could excuse me.” Sister Nobara suddenly spoke, causing you to look up at the departing woman. A “But—” was all you could mutter, before Kento put two-and-two-together and figured you sought out your quarters. “I don’t mind showing you around.”
“If it’s not too much trouble, Father.” You laughed, nervously, obvious to the subtle but definite bite of the Priest’s lower lip at the sound.
“No problem, follow me.”
The walk wasn’t as bad as you’d thought it to be; it was worse.
You couldn’t help but glance repeatedly at the seemingly older, definitely taller and the most handsome man you had ever dreamt of, and the fact that he hadn’t turned to look at you, nonetheless utter a single word, aggravated you.
He gracefully halted, and you knew you’d reached your quarters.
“There we are,” he announced, opening the door to let you in before him.
“It’s not much but—”
“It’s perfect.” You interrupted him with a warm smile, genuinely pleased with where you were to be stationed. Father Kento seemed pleased with your response, the small smile that broke out gave it away.
You instantly got to settling in, not that you had many things to place. Just your clothes, holy books and—
“Who is that?” Asked Father Kento the minute your hand reached for the framed memory.
“Father Redfield from the Arklay Church.” You spoke in monotone.
“Is he why you left?”
You didn’t have to answer.
The way you clutched the photograph tighter gave Nanami Kento all the answers he needed.
“Confessional is always open.”
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“𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍.” The words rang in your ears, floating in the whirlpool of your disturbed mind throughout supper, and the fact that Father Kento was nowhere in sight was no solace. You decided to say, “Fuck it,” in a god-abiding way, and made your way over to the said confessional.
You step inside the wooden booth, steadying your breath you heard movement on the other side.
“Good evening, Sister.”
“I’m glad you obeyed me.” He said, seemingly in nonchalance, but you could picture a cocky smirk on his handsome face.
“Yes, father,” was all you could muster up.
“Tell me what’s on your mind.” He said so casually, yet compelling enough to get you to open up.
“You were right, Father Kento,” you sighed.
“It’s Chris—Father Redfield.”
“He’s, uh, the reason why I left.”
“Why would a man of the Lord drive you to that limit, Sister?” You heard that raspy voice of Father Kento’s inquire.
All you could muster up was a sigh. Talking about your feelings was something you’ve always struggled with, never there being a crucial need to do so, to redeem, like tonight.
“Because I would find myself thinking about him.”
“In what way?” Father Kento asked almost immediately, not wasting a breath.
“In impurity, lust, and love.”
The sigh on the other wooden end of the booth was almost unheard by you. “Describe them.” Father Kento broke the silence after a moment of halting. “W-what?”
“Describe your thoughts. What did you want to do with him?” You heard fiddling, but chose to ignore it.
“I would— would think about him and I, romantically. If and how things would’ve been different had we not chosen this life. Then, it was natural for excitement to settle in when he’d gently brush past me,” you oddly found yourself at ease, tranquil and nostalgic as you reminisce over the past.
“What about lust?” He interrupted in a tight voice.
“Uh,”
“I thought of his large, aged and veiny hands: grabbin—grabbing me, groping my… breasts…”
The ruffling on the other side silenced you, and when Father Kento noticed, he spoke in a stern tone, “Sister,”
“I need you to let it all out.”
So, you took a deep breath, and did exactly that.
You tell the priest how badly you’d grown accustomed to that ache between your thighs, how damp you would feel while merely observing the older man casually interact with the churchgoers; the tinge of bitterness that coursed through your veins, replacing the electricity that he’d often ignite, but now that you see him caressing the arm of another woman, much like the way he’d do to you, you’d find yourself unravelled in the sin of envy.
“I would find myself wanting to start a family with Father Redfield— by any means necessary. I would’ve wanted nothing more than to feel him inside me, carry his load inside me each night, sleeping in the warmth of his arms while his cum leaks out of me, still puffy and sore but in the need of more—”
You heard him groan.
He fucking groaned.
Your sinful ramblings would’ve persisted had the feeling in your gut not begged for you to shut the fuck up that very instance.
“Tell me, Sister,”
“Was it Father Redfield you felt such vulgarity for, or perhaps, just the thought of a superior— One with the Lord— indulging in you?”
You were speechless. Surely there was no insinuation in his sultry tone, right?
“I— I don’t know, Father.” You cleared your throat, thighs involuntarily rubbing together. You raised your palm to bite the back of it, softly, but enough to distract you. A habit you thought you had rid yourself of, but it still lingers.
“Oh, I think you do.”
Before you could deny the blatant accusation, your eyes land on Father Kento through the open wooden network.
You had now realised that this was the first time throughout your confession that you looked up— at him, and the sight awaiting you had caused you to clutch your rosary and gasp the first profanities you’ve dared to say in decades.
Father Kento sat on a ruby, velvet sofa, while his robe lifted up to his stomach. The first thing your eyes trail to is the smug, sinister look on his face, his slicked-back, disheveled hair, his glimmering eyes and pink lips. Then, his broad neck lacking the amice that is supposed to adorn it. Between his thick thighs, stood tall and angry the most vicious thing you’ve seen.
What made it worse was that he had a hand wrapped around the leaking tip, and in that very hand, was his rosary.
“Like what you see, Sister?” He called you out, and you immediately averted your gaze.
You looked to the ceiling, folding your hands and dropping to your knees.
“No, none of that.” Father Kento ‘tsk’ed at the sound of your prayers, making his way over to your side of the confessional.
“As pretty as you look while begging for mercy,”
“ 𝑰 ’𝑴 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑮𝑶𝑫 𝑵𝑶𝑾. ”
He grabbed ahold of your joined hands, opening them just enough to wrap them around the girth of his cock.
“Pray,” he said, squeezing your cheeks together. When your mouth forcefully opened, he shoved his tip past your plump lips, and you instinctively allowed more inside.
“Good girl.” He groaned, motioning your hands back in forth on his cum-slick cock.
Blasphemy coursed through your blood and all thoughts and prayers left your mind, and you twirled your tongue around his cruel tip.
He growled, “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” pushing back your veil and bandeau to let your hair out and grip it.
“Oh, you have no idea what a punishment the past few hours had been,”
“I’d been doing so good. ‘So good,” his voice was weak yet hoarse; he damn near lost his mind when he hit the back of your throat, biting back a whimper.
“I was on the path to salvation, but you,”
“You just had to show up and send me spiralling to hell.”
He plunged into your tight throat one last time, savouring the sight of your hollowed cheeks and plump lips wrapped around his shaft. You bat your long, thick lashes at him and his heart skips a beat when he looks into those doe eyes of yours.
“Get up,” he yanks you up by the arm.
“Strip.”
You were hesitant while bidding farewell to your attire, but there was unknown fervency in your movements.
Once bare, you couldn’t even look him in the eye.
“This is so wrong—”
“—But do you want it?” He asked, his was was stern and soft, his recollected breath made his velvety voice return.
“More than anything I’ve ever known.” You answered in all honesty; only truth came out of you in the home of the Lord.
There was a soft smirk on Father Kento’s face that widened into a genuine smile upon hearing your words. “Come here, then.” He motioned for you close the eternal gap between the two of you, and you nearly leaped into his arms, the distance growing unbearable.
Kissing you, tasting himself on you, Father Kento spoke in between kisses, “I don’t want a fucking word out of you, okay? You’re going to take cock quietly.”
“We want this to stay between us and God, yeah?”
You nodded, letting him corner you against the wooden box.
His eyes darted up to yours and then trailed down to your body. His frustration aggravated at the sight of you, and the fact that you’re the Lord— his master’s forbidden fruit heightens his senses with carnal instincts, making the Goddess in front of him even more insatiable.
“You know I’d have taken my time with you, right?” He nods, enchanting your dumb and dazed state to follow him.
“But you understand how badly I need to be inside you?” You nod, you need it, too.
“And you’ve sworn in celibacy?” He quirks an eyebrow, but the minute you felt the slightest touch of his fingertips along your velvety folds, you forgot all your vows at once.
“Answer me.” His voice carried a trace of humour, but stoic nonetheless, finding your clit and pressing his thumb onto it.
“Y-yes. Yes.” You bit down on your lip and the priest nearly lost it then and there. His free hand meets your face and tucks the pillowy lip out of your teeth’s grasp, stroking it back and forth.
His hand left your cunt, earning pathetic whimpers from you. It went back to his cock, jerking it a few times, leaving you mesmerised, before he gathered the slick that leaked out of the tip and smeared it onto your pussy.
“Prepping you.” He simply grunted, easing one finger into your tight hole. Your walls show hospitality and gladly accept the digit curling inside them.
You were a virgin, but masturbation wasn’t foreign to you.
“More,” you ached, and he obliged.
By the end of your aching heat, you had (barely) accustomed two of his long, slender yet thick fingers. The fervent circles of his thumb on your clit were torturous.
On the brink of your orgasm, spiralling into ecstasy, Father Kento pulled you out. Like a sinister saviour, he pulled you out of enlightenment.
“No! Please— Why?” You blabbered bullshit, too fucked out to care about anything but release.
“I told you I need to be inside you.” His voice was hoarse, the lust evident in his tone.
Watching you right on the edge of unravelling had him throbbing and twitching.
“I need to feel that tight cunt.” He was damn near hyperventilating. “Baby, I’ll go crazy.” He chokes out a sob when you grab his cock by the angry tip and align it with your hole.
He smiled at you, causing you to clench.
How was this blonde bastard so handsome?
Lifting you up with sheer ease, he let your legs wrap around his waist, your arms crossing over his neck, and his dick plunging into you, inch by inch.
You thanked God the tiny booth was tall, so you had enough space to let your head fall back without it touching the ceiling, courtesy of the man balls deep inside you, standing at 6’0.
The snug fit knocked the air out of both of you. Tears ran down your flushed cheeks like a hot spring, the passion with which he embraced you, devouring your warmth against the cold wood set every cell in your body ablaze.
“You’re so fucking— tight. ‘Hot, tight pussy squeezing so nicely around my cock.” Father Kento began pounding into you. Your legs had began to tremble already, but your vicelike grip on his waist and broad shoulders didn’t falter.
His fat cock fucked into you with desperation, the carnality of being wanted so much, so sinisterly by a man who had sworn chastity makes your soul quiver.
You’ll need to make one hell of an apology to the Lord.
As if reading your mind, the blonde priest spoke in a hoarse voice, “Pray.”
“For your sake and mine, you better fucking pray.”
So, you join your hands and close your eyes, bring Father Kento’s face closer to your chest. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of your soft breasts embracing his face like the pillowy clouds of heaven he’d never see.
With every thrust, your would slide up the wall, cunt gushing along his length. You said your prayers silently but couldn’t help letting out wanton cries when the tip of his cock would hit a certain spot inside you, and hit it repeatedly.
You were too far gone to hear him say, “Put it in my mouth,” not knowing what he referred to, until he hit the flesh right above your breast. You struggled to let go of his neck, but grabbed the supple flesh and lead it to his ravenous mouth, like a lamb being led to slaughter.
His hot mouth on your nipple; tugging, licking, circling, and nibbling. His cock inside you, fucking you at godspeed. Two of his fingers on your clit, rubbing maniacally; all had you coming undone in seconds.
“Oh, Kento!” You moaned pornographically, driving him to the point of release and insanity when the rhythmic contractions of your cunt pulsated around his twitching cock, and in mere seconds, Father Kento buried his seed deep inside you.
“Good god.” He groaned, parting with your nipple with a ‘pop’ and overstimulating you with slow, deep thrusts; his fingers never once leaving your clit.
“That—”
“—Needs another confession altogether.”
And so every night you’d find yourself cornered up in the confessional, apologising for same mistake you’ve been making every night, with the man whose forgiveness you beg for, on your knees, and repentance he delivers with a rosary in one hand and his cock in the other.
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