#they did one where she wore his outfits but they were all just madden like boo wear her clothes dude | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luffles424 · 3 years

Text

Tips & Teases

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp (with some plot), skating carhop!reader, diner cook!Seokjin, coworkers 2 lovers

☼ Count: 13.1K

☼ Warnings: 18+, teasing, dom!Seokjin, brat!reader, some possessiveness, big dick!Seokjin, manhandling, mirror sex (sort of, it’s actually a window, but it’s still a reflection), semi public sex, clothed sex, dirty talk, degradation (lots of use of the word slut), spanking, spitting, assplay, pussy spanking, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, hair pulling, ass worship, ass eating, orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), squirting, choking, unprotected, creampie, aftercare

☼ Summary: Jimin’s annual Halloween costume party presents you the perfect excuse to tease Seokjin, using the party as an excuse to wear flirty costumes to work to try to provoke a response in the man. Are you really prepared for what happens when he snaps?

☼ a/n: This one got a little bit away from me lmao But I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

☼ Written for @btsholidaybingo to fill the square costume party

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

You glance up at the exclamation, seeing Seokjin leaning against the counter in the pass through, brows furrowed as he takes in your seated form. You hide your smirk by ducking your head to finish tying your skates. It’s not fully the reaction you were hoping for but you’re hoping that’ll change once you stand up and he sees it fully. You thought long and hard on what you were going to wear. You have backups, but you decided to start easy on him. But you were fully prepared to escalate.

Skates tied, you push yourself up and give a little spin to fully show off your outfit. And to maybe let the already fairly short skirt flair and rise a little higher as you move. You come to a stop facing Seokjin once more, innocent smile tugging your lips as your toe stop presses into the ground to keep you in place. You smooth down the skirt, though the layers of tulle keep it from laying completely flat.

Seokjin’s eyes drag over your form and you wait with baited breath for his reaction. This was all part of your plan to tease and fluster him. “Again, what the fuck are you wearing?”

You pout. That’s still not what you were expecting, though you think you can just make out the tips of his ears turning red. You put a hand on your hip. “It’s October.”

His head tilts. “Yeah and Halloween isn’t for another two weeks. It doesn’t explain this getup.”

You scoff. “Halloween is all month, first of all. And Jimin’s costume party is coming up and I couldn’t decide on what to wear so I decided to try them out at work first.” You bat your lashes at him, forcing down a smirk. “Does that mean you don’t like it?”

His mouth opens then snaps closed as his cheeks dusted with pink. “There’s no way that Namjoon approved that,” he deflects. Interesting.

You look down at the costume. It’s a fairly generic ‘sexy’ waitress costume. Red with yellow stripes that matches the overall aesthetic of your little drive in diner. The skirt hits above midthigh, puffed out by tulle, so the skirt bounces a little more with each movement along with a small ruffled apron with a pocket that isn’t actually usable. The buttons stop at the right point to give a more than ample display of cleavage. And you’ve paired the whole thing with a set of thigh high socks, leaving only a tantalizing glimpse of your thighs on display.

You look back up and quirk an eyebrow, smirking. “Joonie was with me when I bought it.”

A ding sounds and you both turn to look at the wall where the board for the all parking spots sits, a light glowing beside the number 12. You swipe one of the order pads and a pen from the counter and move to the door to outside. You give him a wink before nudging the door open with your hip and skating out to the waiting car.

Seokjin scowls after you and then pulls out his phone, dialing Namjoon’s number.

Namjoon picks up after a few rings. “Is someone dying or is the building on fire?”

Seokjin frowns, watching as he watches you laugh as you speak with the people in the car. “What?”

“Is someone dying or is the building on fire?”

“I… well no-”

“Then why are you calling me? Jin, it’s my only day off and I know you’re at Omelas right now, so this is clearly a work related call.” Namjoon sighs. He sounds a little tired and Seokjin suddenly worries that he woke him up even though it’s 4 in the afternoon. The manager works far too much for his own good.

“Did you really tell Y/n she could wear a waitress costume to work?”

There’s a pause and then Namjoon chuckles. “Wow she really wore it? Man, her tips are going to be great today.”

Seokjin’s about to respond when he catches sight of you leaning over to speak to another car, back facing him, and the action causes your skirt to rise further up your thighs. He swallows and jerks his gaze away, glaring at the grill and cursing that it’s slow and he has nothing to keep him busy right now. He needs a distraction to keep from just watching you longer.

Namjoon continues when Seokjin remains silent. “Yes, I said she could wear it. It’s the season and I’m sure it’ll appeal to customers to see them skating in costume and it’ll boost business. Hm, I should probably make up some rules cause I worry what Jimin will wear,” he finishes, seeming to be speaking more to himself.

“I think it’s dumb.” Seokjin mutters petulantly. Dumb is definitely not how he’d truly describe it. It’s more frustrating, maddening, distracting. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to focus on work when you’re flitting around looking like that. Maybe he can switch future shifts so he doesn’t have to work the same time as you.

Namjoon snorts. “Noted. Is that all?”

Seokjin mutters a yes and Namjoon hangs up with a warning to call again only if there’s an emergency. His hand drops back to his side in defeat. Namjoon was the only one who could save him and he apparently is more worried about Jimin’s costume than yours. He stares at the grill, he had really hoped that Namjoon would back him up. He’s not ready for this shift. Maybe he can call Taehyung or Yoongi to come cover and he can fake being sick or something.

The door opens and he looks up, deflating slightly when he sees that it’s just Jungkook, who immediately flashes him a sheepish smile.

“You’re late,” he snaps. He knows he’s not really mad at Jungkook. They’re all guilty of being a little late, but he has nowhere else to channel the feelings simmering just under his skin.

Jungkook grins and tosses his bag into the cubby behind the counter along with his boots before moving back around to sit to put his skates on. “I’m not that late. Besides,” he glances out the glass front doors to where a group of guys have sat at one of the picnic tables under the awning. You stand with a hip cocked, giggling at something one of them has said. “Seems like Y/n’s got everything handled right now.”

“Just get to work before I tell Namjoon you were late again.”

Jungkook stands, shit-eating grin firmly in place as he glances out the window pointedly. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t do that.” And before Seokjin can respond, he skates out the door to see who you want him to take.

Seokjin doesn’t know how he’s going to survive this shift.

The next time that Seokjin works a shift with you, he encounters Jimin first. A very shirtless Jimin who’s back is to him when he enters the building.

“Jimin, what the fuck?”

Jimin turns and grins, quickly moving around the counter so Seokjin can see the full extent of his costume. Or more accurately, his lack of clothing. Because the only thing on Jimin right now that counts as clothing is the tight pair of black shorts that barely even really cover his thick thighs. The only other things on him are a pair of suspenders, a green tie, and two black x’s that cover his nipples.

Seokjin blinks. “What the fuck are you even supposed to be?”

Jimin adjusts the thick black glasses on his face with a grin. “Class president,” he states proudly.

Seokjin scoffs. “What fucking class president looks like that?”

Jimin pouts. “Well I was class president. So me.”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Does Namjoon know you’re wearing this? There’s no way he allowed this.”

“We compromised.”

Seokjin lifts a brow, looking over Jimin’s “costume” once more. “Where’s the compromise?”

He points proudly to the pasties. “These are. And I have a jacket for when the sun goes down and it gets colder.” He turns and grabs the two drinks he had been working on and moves towards the door. “Isn’t Y/n’s costume idea great?” he adds before exiting the building. He also very much does not like your costume idea. He can already feel his sanity fraying with just the thought of working another shift with you in that little waitress getup.

“That’s… not a compromise.” Seokjin says weakly as he turns to put his bag away, knowing that even if Jimin did hear it, he wasn’t going to respond.

However you happen to enter and catch what he said and you giggle. “You don’t want to know about the rest of the compromise, Jinnie.”

He’s about to respond; say that he can certainly imagine what the compromise was because Jimin has never been shy about telling everyone how he managed to talk Namjoon into very not Namjoon situations. His words die in his throat though when he catches sight of you as you begin to get some drinks. Nothing about last time prepared him for this. Because you’re not wearing the waitress costume tonight. Oh no, apparently that would have been too simple. You have a different costume on.

You have thigh high socks on, though these are thicker than the other ones you had worn. There’s a lot more thigh on display as well thanks to the short, white athletic shorts you’re wearing, paired with a cropped white jersey emblazoned with ‘Tune Squad.’ And finishing off the look is a pair of tan and white bunny ears perched on your head and what he discovers when you turn to grab something and much to his horror, is the matching fluffy tail settled right on top of the swell of your ass.

When you turn back, he has to quickly jerk his gaze away from staring at your ass longer. There’s a knowing smirk when his eyes finally meet yours, like you knew what putting the tail on would do.

Seokjin clears his throat. “And what are you supposed to be?”

You gasp in mock horror, hands coming up to rest over your heart like he’s physically hurt you. “You can’t be serious!” When he doesn’t say anything else, you shake your head in disappointment. “Space Jam is a classic and you’re a heathen for not recognizing Lola Bunny. Shame on you,” you tut. You gather your drinks on a tray and move towards the door, pausing as your back presses against the glass to cast Seokjin an appraising look. “Suppose I’ll have to look for a Bugs Bunny then, hm?”

And with a wink, you’re nudging the door open and skating out to a table full of guys and Seokjin bristles at the way some of them blatantly stare at your ass. His mind belatedly catches on your parting words and he wonders what you meant. Was it directed at him? Did you want him to be your Bugs? He doubts that, he can’t recall a moment of you ever expressing interest in him as anything more than a friend. Maybe you were making a joke about how you needed someone else to help your costume be more recognizable. Though Seokjin knew what your costume was when he saw it. He just didn’t know what else to say without saying something incriminating.

A snicker has his head whipping around to see Taehyung standing over the grill, eyes trained on the food in front of him.

“And what do you find so funny?” Seokjin asks, tugging his apron off the hook on the wall to put on.

“You,” he answers simply, flipping one of the burgers in front of him.

Seokjin makes a face. “I don’t recall making a joke.”

Taehyung looks up at him with a boxy grin. “Oh, no. Your jokes aren’t funny. But the way her ass made you so stupid that you forgot a movie is hilarious. I know for a fact that you’ve seen it at least once because we’ve watched it together.”

Seokjin feels his cheeks heat. Taehyung’s not wrong. He probably would’ve recognized the costume as Lola a lot faster if he hadn’t been almost immediately faced with your ass stretching the fabric and the way the cottontail perched just above it in a way that could only draw you to stare. He scowls, he can’t let Taehyung know he’s right. They all tease him enough as is, this would just be one more thing to add to the pile. He moves over to the younger man and tugs the spatula from his hand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be off work now? Go enjoy your freedom.”

Taehyung only takes a few steps away, perching on the stool they keep behind the counter with a smug look.

Seokjin sighs. “What?”

He gestures to the food before Seokjin. “That’s my food.”

Seokjin blinks for a moment before groaning. He really played himself here. Now he has no choice but to finish Taehyung’s food.

Seokjin’s positive that he’s prepared for the next time he sees you. He knows to expect something different. And honestly, nothing could be worse than those shorts. Jungkook is there first and Seokjin groans when he sees him.

“She got to you too?” He whines, looking over the younger man.

At least his shorts are a more acceptable length than Jimin’s were. And he’s wearing an actual shirt. Really the only thing that signifies that he’s wearing a costume is the pair of bunny ears on his head. Actually, Seokjin’s positive that they’re the ones you were wearing for your Lola Bunny costume. Which confirms that you’re going to be wearing something else. But it’s fine. Seokjin can handle it.

Jungkook grins and glances out to where a table full of giggling girls sits. “I mean, she had a pretty good idea. The tips have been really good lately.”

“Don’t listen to his grumpy ass, Kookie. You make an adorable bun.” You grin, walking through the door. Seokjin’s eyes trail over your frame immediately, greedy to see what you’re wearing, but all you’ve got on is a thigh length trench coat. “He’s just jealous that no one gets to see his costume.”

Jungkook chuckles as he leaves and it takes Seokjin a moment to realize that he should respond. He frowns. “I’m not wearing a costume.”

Your mouth forms an ‘oh’ of exaggerated surprise, hand coming up to your chest. “You’re not?”

Your gaze slowly drags over his form and Seokjin suddenly feels a little self conscious that he’s just in sweats and a white shirt. It’s not much, but no one really sees him in here so he just went for comfort today. The way your eyes linger where his apron is tied, accentuating his tiny waist before trailing up to where his biceps stretch his sleeves has the tips of his ears coloring red quickly. He wishes he had longer hair so that you couldn’t see them right now. Then your lips quirk up into a teasing grin.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’ve got the perfect Bob Belcher look going on here, Jinnie.”

Seokjin’s face twists. Bob Belcher? Seriously? That’s how you see him. He scowls, looking over your outfit. “And just what are you supposed to be? A flasher?”

You giggle at his statement, pulling something golden from your bag. A moment later, you’re placing it on your head and he realizes that it’s a short, 4 pointed, gold crown with 4 alternating blue and red gems that sits on a headband so that it stays in place. It looks so familiar but he can’t place why.

You give him a wry smile. “No, of course not. I had to run to the store so I threw a coat on.”

He rolls his eyes. “Is your costume that-”

He cuts himself off as you slowly slip your jacket off, head tilted as you watch him closely. Now he realizes why the crown looked familiar. Because it’s Princess Peach’s crown. Because apparently you’ve decided to dress like every fantasy he had when he was young once he discovered the Mario games.

The dress is much shorter than Peach’s is, your’s sits high on your thighs and dips low to show a generous amount of cleavage. You have thigh high white tights one that only accentuate the sliver of thigh that you have on display much the same way your waitress costume did. But this is somehow worse and Seokjin suddenly very much regrets wearing sweatpants today of all days. At least he’s got the apron on.

He turns back to the grill, but the image of you dressed like that will be burned into his brain forever. He might actually die.

You giggle and he hears the sound of your skates as you move towards the door. “Just have to find a Mario. We’d be so cute together.” And with that you skate out.

Seokjin’s thrilled that it’s finally the day of the party and that it’s finally Halloween. It means he won’t have to deal with you in your costumes anymore. He honestly doesn’t think he can handle anything else after the Peach costume. Or even seeing the Peach costume again. He has no idea what you’ll be wearing tonight and he is torn on which he wants you to wear.

Yoongi is manning the grill when Seokjin gets there because it’s a Friday so their shifts overlap for the dinner rush before Seokjin will close down for the night. And he saw Hoseok out taking care of a few customers, but he’s unsure if Hoseok was working the earlier shift or if he took Jimin’s shift so the younger man could set up for the party. He hopes it’s the latter, he worries who would come to replace him if he worked the earlier shift.

He gives him a nod of acknowledgement before focusing again on the grill as Seokjin gets ready for his shift. He had seriously considered skipping the party later since he’s closing and it means he’d get there late. But it’s Jimin’s party and not only would the younger harass him until he came, he also knows it’ll go late into the evening and so his closing shift won’t affect anything. But the late time does mean that he decided to wear his costume to work, well one of them. He has a second one in his car, a stupid idea just in case you happened to wear Peach again. He knows it’s fairly unlikely, but he supposes that the Mario costume sitting on the car seat is at least a little comforting. Maybe an easy way for him to possibly ask you out. Or just embarrass himself. At least it’ll be at a party and he can drink himself silly when he gets rejected.

But for now, he’s content with his costume. It at least won’t get a snarky comment from you comparing him to Bob Belcher. Because he actually put a little thought into this costume and he’s pretty proud that he managed to pull together such a good Geralt costume. His hair currently being bleach blond also helped give him the idea. The wig for proper accuracy and sword are in his car, they seemed a little impractical to work in, but the rest of the costume was pretty comfortable. The higher waisted pants are different but he thinks they’re pretty flattering and form fitting and the shirt is just billowy enough to give the illusion that he’s a little buffer than he really is.

The most telling part of the costume is the wolf head medallion hung around his neck. Which he hopes people recognize for what it is and don’t just think he’s wearing some fancy, period style clothes. Plus wearing it now meant that he didn’t have to change either at work while trying to close or show up to the party and change there. And he’s incredibly thankful that Jungkook, nerd that he is, not only had a sword for him to borrow, but actually had a replica specifically of Geralt’s sword.

Seokjin tugs his apron from the rack, back to the door when he hears it open. He hears Yoongi let out a low whistle.

“I don’t know who’s attention you’re trying to catch, but consider it caught.”

Seokjin turns, curious as to who and what Yoongi is talking about and he feels his breath catch in his throat. Because apparently fate is cruel and has decided that you of course would pick up Jimin’s shift and would be the one who closes with him. He licks his lips as his gaze slowly trails over you.

He doesn’t even know what to take in first. Your black dress is low cut and short, your legs covered in lacy floral tights. But the most distracting part is the glittering body cage that sits over your dress. It cages your breasts in and accentuates them even more than the dress, extended up your chest to form a collar around your throat. Thinner strips cover your shoulders and upper arms, forming a parody of sleeves. The strands curve around your hips, the ends coming together to form a point that just touches the hem of the dress.

A medallion hangs at your throat, the circular bronze marked with a starburst. You grin at Yoongi as you slip a lace mask on that sits delicately over your eyes. He realizes that you’re dressed as Yennifer. God and not just any outfit, a much skimpier version of the outfit from the orgy scene of all scenes. How is he supposed to survive this shift now?

There’s no way that you knew what he was wearing. This just has to be all a weird coincidence. A very very weird coincidence that has rendered him completely speechless. You glance at him with the ghost of a smile on your lips as you take a seat to swap your ankle boots out for your skates. He gets another brief glance before you’re skating out to join Hoseok outside.

“You’ve got it bad, dude.”

Seokjin jerks at the words, tearing his gaze from your ass to glare at Yoongi. “What are you talking about?”

Yoongi gives him a flat look. “Come on, everyone can see your massive crush on her.” Seokjin shoots a worried glance to where you stand talking to a car and Yoongi gives a chuckle and shake of his head. “Okay, maybe everyone but her. But dude, come on. How long are you going to pine for? Just go for it already.”

“But-”

“There is no but here dude. It wouldn’t make work awkward and it’s very clearly not one-sided. Just ask her.”

Seokjin huffs. He wants to believe Yoongi, he really does. But he worries that you only flirt with him to see his ears turn red and to tease him. You flirt with the others too and it’s hard to tell if you are just flirty in a friendly way or if you truly want more. And he’d hate to make you uncomfortable at work by making a move on you. He turns and chooses instead to ignore Yoongi for the remainder of their shared shift. It’ll get busy anyway so it’s not like he’ll have to try too hard to avoid any further conversation on the topic of you. Something Seokjin would very much like to keep out of his mind given if he thinks about you for too long, it’s going to go straight to your outfit and he doesn’t really need to pop another boner at work while trying to cook.

Seokjin gets through almost his entire shift with his sanity intact. There’s 30 minutes until close and there’s only one table here. They seem interested in only getting some drinks, so Seokjin takes the opportunity to slip his apron off and begins cleaning up and getting some of the closing duties out of the way so that he can get out of here sooner and go get very drunk at Jimin’s party and try to pretend that he didn’t nearly see your ass tonight when you bent over in front of him earlier. There was a flash of skin from beneath your skirt and Seokjin had to go spend a few minutes in the freezer. When he came out you looked far too amused.

Seokjin glances out the window, realizing that you haven’t been back inside for a little while and worrying that maybe something happened. But all he sees is you chatting with a table of guys. He’s about to get back to cleaning when one of the guys reaches out to run his fingers down your arm. There’s a coy smile on your face and Seokjin clenches his jaw. He glances at the clock. 5 minutes.

He debates just kicking them out now. It’s not like Namjoon would fire him for it. He doubts they would even bother complaining beyond making a fuss before they leave. But then your hand comes up to touch his shoulder, just for a moment, and Seokjin’s resolve snaps. He snatches their receipt from the counter where you left it and stalks out of the building.

You glance up at the sound of the door, smiling a little when you see Seokjin exiting. You and the group of guys startle slightly when he slams his hand onto the table, revealing the bill when he pulls away.

“We’re closed,” he snarls, grabbing you and directing you back inside.

You stumble slightly, skates leaving you slightly off balance for the sudden movement but you manage to steady yourself by grabbing Seokjin’s bicep with your free hand and allow him to pull you along inside. He leaves you at the counter as he stomps to the back, muttering something under his breath. You look back outside, seeing the guys exchanging confused looks but they place some money on the table and shuffle off, likely not wanting to see what else Seokjin does when he gets angry.

You squirm slightly, you’ve never seen him so angry, it’s incredibly hot. Especially with him dressed as Geralt tonight. You wait patiently, watching as the outside lights are shut off and then most of the inside ones as well, casting the kitchen in a faint blue glow from the auxiliary lights that remain on no matter what.

A moment later Seokjin returns, face set in a harsh look of displeasure. You fight down a grin at pushing him far enough to finally get a reaction. He pauses in front of you, glancing behind you briefly, likely to check that the men have actually left. There’s a soft hum from him that makes your lips twitch up in a small smile and when he catches sight of it, his eyes darken.

“Something amusing to you, sweetheart?” His cold tone sends a shiver down your spine.

You blink up at him with faux innocence. “Nothing at all, Jinnie.”

His gaze trails slowly over your face and then he’s reaching and removing the delicate lace mask from your face and tossing it to the counter behind you.

“I don’t think you’re being honest with me,” he murmurs. He leans forward and your breath catches in your throat, thinking he’s going to kiss you, but he bypasses your mouth, lips brushing your ear as he continues to speak. “I think you did this on purpose and you find it very amusing.”

Your body tingles at his tone, at the way he laces a threat into the seemingly innocuous words. He leans back and you only get a second to admire his smirk before he’s spinning you around and pushing your upper half down against the counter. It takes you a second to get your feet under you with the skates hindering you slightly, but you manage to get yourself stabilized and balanced on your toe stops.

You plant your hands on the counter to keep stable and glance over your shoulder, only to have your face roughly turned forward once more towards the window. It’s dark out and you know it would be hard to see into the dim windows from the street, but if anyone happens to walk closer, they’d be able to see everything. The thought sends a thrill through you. A hand lands on your ass, cushioned by your dress, but the sudden impact still draws a gasp from your lips.

“I think,” Jin pauses, fingers trailing lightly across the curve of your ass, “that you have planned all of this with just me in mind, hm?” You don’t know whether he actually wants you to respond or not, but he continues before you can voice anything. “I think someone has been a very bad girl,” the hand on your ass stops and his fingers dig into the flesh harshly. “And that someone needs to be punished,” he finishes with a hiss.

His hand lands another smack on your ass, a little harder this time, and you feel the slight sting heat your skin. You feel your panties dampen and you squirm as well as you can given the way you have to hold your feet still lest you slip. His hands grope at your cheeks before they slide down enough for him to hook his thumbs under the fabric and he tugs the hem of your dress up and over your ass.

The hands pause then tighten around the fabric of your dress and you hear him swear under his breath at the sight of your ass clad in black lacy panties, ones that closely resemble your mask, and framed by the lace garter straps of your tights.

“Fuck… You really did plan this all out…” His hand leaves you again before coming down with a resounding smack, no longer padded by your dress and your thin panties do little to cushion the blow. A moan slips from your lips and Seokjin lets out a dark chuckle. “Oh, are you enjoying your punishment? Well, we’ll just have to fix that, hm?”

He spanks you again, harder this time and you whimper. He hums in approval, hand smoothing over the smarting skin for a moment before he spanks the other cheek just as hard. Your toes curl in your skates at the pleasure-pain that shoots through you.

Seokjin tsks. “Hm, this just won’t do.” He mutters, seemingly more to himself because you have no idea what he could be thinking until his hand grabs the back of your panties, gathering a fistful of the fabric. It elastic pulls tight across your hips, digging into the skin to the point of discomfort. You whine, trying to push your hips up to relieve the sting but Seokjin just moves with, keeping his grip tight. Then he’s pulling harder, the elastic digging painfully into your skin followed by the sound of seams ripping. A final tug and the fabric tears completely, leaving your ass and pussy bear to Seokjin’s gaze.

A shudder ripples through you at the display. You can’t believe he just ripped your panties off. You can’t believe how much the action turns you on too.

A pleased noise rumbles in his chest as the scrap of lace is slipped into his pocket. “That’s much better.”

His hands are back on your ass, no barrier to keep you from feeling the warmth from his palms and the slightly roughened fingertips as they skim across your skin. You push into the touch, greedy for more of the soothing strokes. He chuckles, fingers slipping beneath the garter straps. He tugs them away from your skin before releasing them to let them snap against your skin.

“Seokjin-” you start, only to be quickly cut off by a sharp smack.

“Bad girls don’t get to speak unless spoken too, slut.”

You swallow, pussy clenching at his tone. Of all the things you imagined, you never quite imagined something like this. His hand smooths across your skin for a moment before delivering another spank.

“How many more do you think you deserve, slut?” he muses, hand remaining where it landed with his last smack.

“I-”

Another smack. “That was rhetorical. I don’t actually take the opinions of sluts.” His hand rubs at your warmed skin for a moment in thought. “I think 20 sounds fair. For all your little stunts with those costumes. For flirting with other guys where I can see. For teasing.” He pauses for a moment and when he speaks again, the harsh edge is gone. “Green means continue, yellow for slow down, and red I stop. Okay?”

It takes you a second to realize what he’s said and then you’re quickly nodding, excitement mounting at what could possibly be to come.

“I need words, princess,” he murmurs, voice softer than it has been since he brought you inside and it makes you melt a little.

“Yes, I understand.”

“That’s the first time you’ve been good all night, sweetheart.” You can hear the smirk in his voice and it makes you clench at the mean implications that come with such a simple statement. “But now let’s see if you can keep your good girl streak going while you get punished.” Both hands leave you and you want to turn around and look at him, see what he’s doing, but you feel it will only prompt further punishment. “I want you to count. And if you miss one, then we start all over again, got it?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes speaking, trying your best to keep from squirming. “Yes, sir.”

He chuckles. “Such a good girl now,” he coos.

And then his hand is coming down on your ass, softer than his previous smacks and the gentleness makes you gasp. He pauses and waits and you belatedly let a 'one' slip from your lips. He hums in approval and delivers a smack to the other cheek, still just as soft and you murmur a quiet 'two.'

You squirm. You'd expected more harsh hits and the contrast has you aching for him to go a little rougher with you. He smacks again and again. Every slap of his palm against you only adds to the growing pleasurable sting that radiates across the whole surface of your ass.

He stops when he gets to ten, hands rubbing over the warm flesh. "Color?"

"Green, so green," you whine, pushing your ass back into his hands.

He chuckles. "You're so eager for your punishment that I'm starting to think that it might not be a very good punishment." His hand comes down, much harder than any previous spank and you cry out. "Ah, there we go."

Seokjin sounds so indifferent when he speaks, like he's not even bothered by your bare ass and the noises that slip from you with every connection. You wish you could see his face, see if there is any reaction he has. You want to see the indifference as he’s faced with your bare, dripping pussy and spank warmed ass. The next four spanks are just as harsh and tears gather, threatening to fall. It's so pleasurably painful that you can feel yourself dripping down your thighs. He gives you another small reprieve, hands ghosting along your smarting skin as you pant against the counter.

"Hm, there we go, that’s much better. Color?"

You squeeze your eyes closed, taking a moment to try to gather your foggy thoughts. You feel a few tears drip down your cheeks. "G-green."

His fingers dig into your ass then and you whine as you try to squirm away from the sudden flare of pain. Seokjin just chuckles again and digs his fingers in more. He pulls your cheeks apart and you gasp at being suddenly far more exposed. You clench at the burst of cool air across your asshole and pussy, and Seokjin just holds you like that for a long taunting moment. And then he surprises you further by spitting, the glob of spit hitting just above your asshole and beginning to slide down your crack.

You shudder, a moan slipping from your lips as Seokjin halts the spit from sliding too far by pressing his thumb to your hole. You feel yourself go boneless at the pressure. He hums in delight at the way you relax at only a little prodding.

"Oh? Do you like something in your ass too? My, what a naughty girl," he teases, mocking edge making you whine and press further against his thumb.

His thumb circles, pressing lightly against the tight ring of muscle, slowly spreading his saliva around. He plays with your hole, massaging it for a few moments before he's pulling away. He spanks you again and you tense up at the sudden flip from soft rubbing back to the harsh slaps.

"Didn't think I forgot about the rest of your punishment, did you?"

You quickly shake your head. You actually had forgotten that he said twenty and that you still have five left. But you can't let him know how distracted you had been by him playing with your ass. That you forgot you were being punished. That didn’t seem like it would go over well with him. Tears gather in your eyes as his hand lands again, breath punched from you as the pain builds with each swat of his hand.

Your throat feels rough when you finally croak out, 'twenty.'

His hands completely leave you and you tremble against the counter, struggling to keep yourself upright with your legs nearly boneless. You feel warm and floaty all over.

"Fuck, you look so good like that." You preen at the praise but he’s quick to laugh. And the mocking, mean edge of it has you whining. "You're absolutely dripping. Did you even learn anything from your punishment? Or did you just enjoy it?"

You jolt when his fingers brush against your tender ass before they trail down to your pussy, running the length of your slit and gathering some of your wetness on his fingertips. His fingers leave you once more and a second later you hear him suck his fingers clean.

He groans. "Fuck, I wasn't planning on doing this as part of your punishment but you taste far too good to not give myself a little treat. It is Halloween after all." You can hear the growing smirk when he continues. "Oh, I have a much better idea now anyway."

His fingers trace your pussy lips and you shift, mindlessly trying to get them where you want them. They pull away and Seokjin delivers a quick smack to your pussy, jolting your body at the sudden burst of pain across your sensitive cunt and forcing a surprised yelp from your lips.

"Behave."

You pout, though you assume he can't see it. That is until you glance up at the storefront and see your reflections in the window and the predatory way that Seokjin stares at you. His grin is feral when you make eye contact, like he's been waiting for you to finally look up and realize that he can see your face as well. He keeps staring at you as his fingers slip through your folds again before he lets one slide inside you.

You moan at the intrusion, but it's not enough. You want more already, body warmed from the teasing and spanking already. He’s barely touched your pussy and you’re already so desperate for him. You clench around his finger, hips pushing back to try to get him deeper. He removes his hand again to land another smack to your pussy, dangerously close to your clit. You moan.

"Fuck, you're so dirty. You like getting your slutty pussy spanked just as much as your little ass?"

You nod, desperate to get more of something, anything he's willing to give you. Simply hoping that by agreeing will get you something. Seokjin spanks your pussy again, this time directly over your clit and you cry out, legs nearly giving out beneath you as the pleasure-pain sensation alights your nerves. His finger circles your entrance slowly before slipping inside once again.

"Seokjin please..."

He drags his finger out slowly before thrusting it back in just as slowly, letting you feel every inch of the digit. "What is it? Please what? If you're going to beg, you're going to beg like a proper slut and use. Your. Words." He punctuates the last three words a harsh thrust of his finger after each one, leaving it buried once he's done speaking.

"Please... Wan-" Your voice breaks as his finger presses searchingly against your walls, finding your g-spot quickly and rubbing against the bundle. The action robs you of all thought, losing track of what you had been saying.

"Yes?" He questions mockingly, like he's not distracting you and making it hard for you to form a coherent thought. "Please what?"

You groan, head dropping forward to press your forehead against the cool countertop. The slight chill that seeps through your sweaty skin grounds you a bit. Enough to string together some words. "Want... Wanna cum, please let me cum..."

Seokjin presses more firmly against your spot and your whole body trembles at the wave of pleasure that washes through you, pushing you closer to orgasm.

"Oh? Do you think you deserve that?"

You nod quickly, squeaking when Seokjin removes his finger to slap your pussy again, the only reminder you get to speak. "Yes, yes... Was good and counted the whole time."

He hums thoughtfully. "I suppose you did. So you want to cum, slut?"

You squirm as his fingers tease alone your folds. It’s maddeningly light, nowhere near enough to push you over the edge. "Yes, please, wanna cum, Seokjin..."

His answering hum should send up red flags but he slips two fingers into your pussy, rubbing immediately across your g-spot with each thrust of his hand and you sink immediately into the pleasure it sends through you. You writhe and his free hand comes up to press against your back, pinning you more securely to the counter. It just makes you writhe more, push the boundaries and feel him press you just a little harder into the unmoving counter.

His thumbs slips forward on the next thrust to brush against your clit. Your belly tightens with every thrust and stroke of his fingers, orgasm rapidly approaching.

“You’re tightening around me so much. Is my little slut close?”

Your nod jerkily, hips twitching as you rock against his fingers. “S-so close…”

Seokjin stops with one last harsh thrust, switching instead to rubbing incessantly at your g-spot while his thumb circles your clit. “Then be a good fucking slut and cum,” he growls.

He grabs your hair, tugging your head up so that you're forced to stare at his reflection once more. The look on his face makes you shudder and your pussy clenches around his fingers. Your mouth drops open at the feral look in his eyes and the way he seems wholly consumed by watching your every twitch and reaction. One more twist of his fingers has you crying out his name, toes curling in your skates as he pushes you over the edge. His hand releases your hair, a look of warning keeps you from letting your head drop, and his hand comes down in another spank against your ass and you jolt at the added sensation as your orgasm floods your body.

His fingers work you through your orgasm, slowing only marginally as you shake beneath him. You whine when overstimulation starts to take over but you make no moves to stop his movements. The extra sensitivity only adds to the pleasure that still licks away at your veins.

"Wow, too much and you're not even gonna stop me? Fuck, you really are a dirty, needy little slut."

You whine again, pushing your hips back onto his fingers, drawing an amused huff from him. He thumbs your clit roughly, causing your knees to nearly give out, before he's removing his fingers entirely and you pout at the sudden empty feeling you're left with. His hand slips back into your hair, tightening and pulling your head further back so your chest lifts slightly from the counter and you gasp as your attention is pulled back to his reflection. He smirks at you for a moment and then he's releasing you once more. You collapse against the counter, struggling slightly to keep your footing.

You're suddenly very much regretting the fact that you have to wear skates at work because it's proving to be very dangerous. You wish you could stop and take them off, but you’re certain that Seokjin wants them on for the fact that it keeps you nearly immboile against the counter. You can’t deny that for the struggle to remain upright aside, being forced to stay like this because of your footwear is just another layer to the arousal that has yet to leave you.

Seokjin's body blankets your's for a moment as he leans over to press a kiss to your shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll give you exactly what you need."

You have no time to question him because he's straightening once more and then his reflection disappears entirely as he drops to his knees behind you. Your throat feels dry as you wait for him to touch you again but the seconds stretch and he does nothing. You squirm, imagining what he must be seeing from his new position behind you, your pussy spread and dripping, hole twitching with the last vestiges of your orgasm. The way your thighs quiver as you force yourself to remain upright.

Embarrassment heats you at being stared at but the moment your legs start to close to attempt to hide yourself, Seokjin's hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread for his gaze to consume. He hums in appreciation, thumbs brushing your folds as he pulls your lips apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt. His breath ghosts across the sodden skin and you think that he's going to finally put his mouth on you but he surprises you when he lips brush gently against your ass.

"S-seokjin?"

He ignores you, peppering kisses across both cheeks, tongue slipping out occasionally to lave across areas made more sensitive by his spanking. He releases your pussy, hands sliding further up to cup your ass, massaging the flesh while his lips move across. It's nothing short of worship and you find yourself quickly getting lost in the attention.

By all means, it shouldn't be as hot as it is. He's barely even doing anything. Just kneading the flesh softly as his lips and tongue ghost across your skin. But every touch sends a spark of electricity up your spine. You wish you could see him, how he must look on his knees, the look on his face. Whether his brow is pinched in concentration like it does when he’s working or if it's relaxed as he takes his time with you.

The first pass of his lips over your asshole draws a soft sigh from you and you can feel the smile that tugs at his lips with his next kiss to your cheeks. He takes his time, only putting the lightest of touches to your hole as he showers attention across your ass. Your mind feels foggy, equal parts on edge for his next move and lulled into complacency by his gentle movements. You trust him to give you what you need, even if you don’t know what it is yet.

His tongue darts out, circling the tightened ring of muscle with more pressure than he's used before and it causes your entire body to shake. He drifts away again and a whimper slips from your lips at the loss. He moves back to your hole quicker this time, each pass and circle of his tongue coming closer together as he goes.

His fingers dig into your ass, drawing a hiss from you at the flare of pain, and he pulls your cheeks apart. He stops there for a moment and you feel your hole clench at the focused attention.

Seokjin chuckles. "Needy little slut," he coos and then he spits directly onto your hole again.

You moan, feeling as it slowly slides down your ass until it meets your pussy and gets lost in the mess of your slick. He blows cool air where he spat and goosebumps break out across your skin. He blows again and then his mouth is closing over your hole, the sudden warmth has you crying out. Seokjin just hums, tongue tracing your hole.

You shift and Seokjin tightens his grip on your ass, keeping you still and you clench at the casual display of power. He keeps the pressure of his tongue light, enough for you to feel it but keeping you aching for more. And god do you ache for more, his teasing keeps the fire in your belly at just a simmer and you want to be consumed. Your previous orgasm is proving to be nowhere near enough as your clit throbs with need. Seokjin continues his slow pace despite your weak attempts to get him to do something.

He pulls away slightly, breath ghosting over you as he speaks. "If you need something slut, you know how to ask."

And then he dives back in, tongue continuing it's tortuously slow path around your hole. You open your mouth to speak, but Seokjin's tongue dips just inside your hole and you groan at the sudden change. He alternates between slow sweeps of his tongue around your rim and wiggling his tongue just a little deeper into you. The stretch isn't enough to hurt, not with how relaxed his previous attention has left you, and you find yourself wishing that there was just the slightest bit more stretch.

Seokjin's words come back to you and you swallow as you try to articulate your needs to him. "S-seokjin... Need more, please..."

He hums but makes no move to do anything about your whining. He's methodical and it's almost worse than the spanking in how torturous it is.

"Please... Fuck, Seokjin, please, please, please..."

Your begging seems to be what he was waiting for because one of his hands slides from your ass to trace along your slit. You moan at the contact, not expecting him to go for your pussy but you let out a happy noise as a pleasurable shiver runs through you. His fingers find your clit and he runs his fingers around it for a brief second before he’s pinching the sensitive bud.

You cry out, thighs trying to close instinctively, but Seokjin’s body prevents you from moving them closer than an inch. You feel his smirk against your ass as he pinches again. You whimper, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through your body. He switches to circling your clit, soothing the painful throb he created and it lulls you into a false sense of security for when he thrusts his tongue as deep as he can into your ass.

You choke on a moan as he thrusts his tongue in again, pairing it with another, slightly more gentle, pinch to your clit. You press your face to the counter, struggling to catch your breath amongst the assault of sensations that Seokjin lavishes upon you. But your attempts are nearly useless as he constantly changes what he’s doing, giving you no time to get used to anything and managing to surprise you with every single twist of his fingers and every thrust and curl of his tongue.

While you struggle to keep yourself upright, you can feel your orgasm steadily building from the constant attention of his mouth and the abuse to your clit. It’s only a matter of time before you cum again. But you know you can’t, not without his okay, although the thoughts that flit through your mind of possible punishments for cumming without permission are incredibly enticing. That can wait for another day.

“G-gonna… Gonna cum, can I cum? Please, Seokjin… p-please let me cum…” you babble, feeling that knot inside you continuing to tighten and you can only try to stop it for so long.

He pulls away, teeth nipping at the underside of your ass while his fingers continue to play with your clit. His mouth drifts a little lower and his teeth dig into the meat of your thigh.

“Please!” you shudder, the added pain pushing you much faster towards your end.

His tongue traces soothingly over where he just bit, but he remains maddeningly silent. You blink away tears, though you’re not sure if they’re from the pain, frustration, or pleasure.

“Please…” you whimper.

He shifts to the other cheek, biting down again and you’re so close to cumming now. His tongue soothes the spot once more and you feel your body tensing with the first inklings of orgasm.

But just as you reach the edge, nearly toppling over into the pleasure, Seokjin is pulling his hands and mouth away from your body, stopping your orgasm in its tracks.

You let out a sob, a pitiful, whiny ‘no’ slipping from your lips as a few tears slide down your cheeks as your orgasm slowly slips through your fingers.

“I don’t recall saying you could cum.” His hand comes down on your ass, right on top of where he bit.

“I a-asked… Please, I was good.”

“You asked, but I didn’t say yes, slut.” His hand swats at your pussy next and you nearly cum from the action with how on edge you are.

Seokjin seems to notice if his dark snicker is anything to go by. “Oh? You liked that? Seems you liked it a lot, you made such a mess of my fingers.” He slaps your pussy again and it jolts you closer to orgasm again. “Think you could cum just from me spanking your slutty little pussy? Fuck, I want to try. Do you want that, dirty girl?”

You nod without thinking. You’d do just about anything if it means you get to cum. And the sting only makes the pleasure feel all the better. “Please…”

You hear him shuffle for a moment, the sound of fabric rustling, before he’s nipping at your ass again, leaving teasing stings until his tongue can swirl around your asshole once more. His hand slaps your pussy the same time that his tongue slips back into your tight hole. You gasp and he starts alternating thrusts of his tongue with smacks to your clit.

Your body feels wound tight, every sensation that Seokjin showers on you sending you so much closer to the edge. It feels like you and Seokjin have been doing this for years with how well he seems to be able to read your body. You cry out as Seokjin pinches your clit once more, thighs quivering with the effort it takes to keep you standing.

Seokjin's tongue slips from your hole, but he remains close, lips brushing the sensitive furl as he speaks. "Come on, slut. We both know you can cum from this. Be good and let go for me."

His tongue circles your hole slowly and then it's slipping back in and he picks up a fast pace of fucking you with his tongue, interspersed with slaps and pinches to your clit, seemingly using no method and keeping you on your toes in guessing what will come next. Your high crests from the mixture of pleasure and pain and you cum with a sob, pussy clenching around nothing. Seokjin's fingers press to your clit as the first ripples of your orgasm rush through you and he skillfully draws your orgasm out for as long as possible. Your body feels electrified, pushed into overstimulation but your breath has been completely robbed from you with how good everything feels too, at the way Seokjin so easily manipulates your body to his every whim.

Slowly, he pulls his mouth and fingers from you, sitting back on his heels. You pant against the counter, hot air blowing back into your sweaty face but you're too exhausted to care. You kind of just want to slide off the counter and lay down on the floor, even though it's the kitchen floor and is probably gross. Seokjin pats your ass and it somehow feels condescending and you feel your pussy give a weak twitch.

"Enjoying yourself, slut?" All you can muster is a pitiful whine, which draws a snicker from him. "I certainly hope you are, because we're far from over."

You whine again. You honestly don't know if you could take more. Your body has never been so worked over without actually being fucked too. You don't even know what else he could do short of fucking you finally. Which had been the goal of this whole game to begin with, but he's far surpassed your expectations. Maybe you should push his buttons more often if it results in being so utterly ruined. You definitely know that no one else will ever be able to make you feel as good as he has. Seokjin's hands rub soothingly at your thighs and the action is so grounding that you feel a little dizzy.

"Color, sweetheart?" His voice is soft and gentle, so different from the mean tone that's been coloring it until now.

It takes you a moment to be able to speak, but you manage to get out a raspy 'green.'

"Need any water or a break?"

You think about it for a moment. You could take a break. Maybe take your skates off. But you really don't want to either. There's something about not being able to move that makes it even better, makes you feel powerless even though Seokjin has plainly handed you all the power here. You just want more.

You shake your head. "I'm good."

His hands massage at your thighs for a few more moments before his fingers dig harshly into the newly relaxed muscle. You gasp and he gives a chuckle. "What a good little slut you're being now."

"Yes... 'm good."

Seokjin chuckles darkly. "That remains to be seen. You haven't even gotten my cock yet and you can barely even speak properly anymore. Not so cocky now, huh?"

He gives your ass a quick swat, it's far more teasing than meant to cause you any pain. His hands slide up your thighs until they just meet your ass and then his thumbs are pulling your soaking folds apart with a groan. Mirroring his earlier actions, he blows cool air across your pussy and you shudder at the way it feels against your heated cunt. His tongue lightly traces your folds and he lets out a contented noise like he’s tasting the most exquisite dish he’s ever eaten.

Then he’s licking a wide stripe up your slit and you cry out, pussy so sensitive after two orgasms already. Seokjin eats you out like a starving man, tongue working over every inch of your pussy, mapping every spot that makes you twitch and moan. You writhe, or at least you try your best with Seokjin’s hands holding your ass and keeping your lower half mostly immobile.

Seokjin pulls back with a smack of his lips. “For such a little devil, you certainly taste like heaven.” He snickers before diving back in.

His plump lips wrap around your clit, tongue flicking lightly at the nub before he sucks. Fire simmers in your veins and you’re surprised at how quickly your orgasm builds again when he’s barely done anything just yet. He suckles lightly, pleasure surging through you. Releasing your clit with a pop, his tongue drags agonizingly slowly up to circle your entrance. He’s methodical, tracing around your hole with just the right amount of pressure before dipping back down to mouth at your clit and then back again.

You feel yourself dripping, Seokjin noisily lapping up all that you have to give him. Seokjin’s fingers massage up to your ass, digging in and sending a spark of pleasure through you from the sting his grip brings. A hand abandons your ass, finger joining his mouth on your cunt. They work in tandem, fingers toying with your clit while he licks into your pussy. Then they switch, two fingers slipping deep inside you as his lips wrap around you clit once more.

Time slips away from you, your mind hazy and body on edge as Seokjin plays with your pussy to his heart’s content. His tongue presses at your hole with a little more force and then his teeth graze the sensitive skin and you moan. You feel his smile when he presses his lips against you next and then his tongue is sliding into you. You moan as his fingers pinch at your clit at the same time.

Heat pools in your belly as he starts fucking his tongue into you and you babble as you feel your orgasm rising as his fingers circle your clit, begging to cum again. He gives you a gentle pat on the ass with his free hand which you assume is meant to be his form of permission since he seems to not want to remove his mouth from your cunt. His fingers move faster and you teeter on the edge. You’re so close. So close that it’s driving you delirious with pleasure. But you just can’t quite get there, missing something that you can’t even fathom let alone ask for.

Seokjin, ever perspective, seems to know exactly what you need as he slips a finger in with his tongue, pressing down on your g-spot and making you cry out. The insistent pressure combined with the fingers on your clit and tongue still thrusting into sends you over the edge. Bliss floods your body and you feel yourself gush around Seokjin’s tongue and fingers. He drinks up what he can before he’s pulling his mouth away with a curse.

“Fuck, what a messy fucking slut. You made such a mess squirting, you little whore. I just cleaned these floors. I should make you lick them clean.” You clench around his fingers at his words and he lets out a dark chuckle. “Fuck you like that? Of course you would, you wouldn’t be my dirty little slut otherwise.”

His fingers continue their ministrations and you whine that it’s too much. Seokjin pays you no mind, slipping another finger into you.

“Come on, slut. I know you can cum again.”

You shake your head. “C-can’t… not… No more…” You squirm, trying your best to get away from the relentless pressure against your clit and g-spot.

His fingers slow for a moment. “Color?”

You swallow. It hurts, but not necessarily in a bad way. It doesn’t feel like it’d be too much to go on. You’ve never been pushed so far and there’s a thrill that runs through you when you think about discovering what exactly your body can take, even more excited that Seokjin is the one to test the bounds and that he makes sure to check in, to remind you that the safe words are there if it’s too much. You trust him to listen if you need to slow down. But you don’t want to, not right now.

You can feel your wetness literally dripping down your thighs and seeping into your tights makes you feel warm all over, overcome with a need to see how soaked they could get. “G-green, please…”

Seokjin hums, fingers picking their pace back up. “There’s my good little slut. Come on, cum for me like a good little whore.”

His mouth latches onto you again and you shudder, body still worked up from your squirting orgasm that it takes so little effort for Seokjin to push you over the edge again. Your mouth drops open on a soundless scream, pussy convulsing as you gush around his fingers, wetness dripping down his hand and to the floor. You whimper and Seokjin carefully slips his fingers from you. He laps gently at your folds, just enough to send tingles of pleasure up your spin.

He pulls away with a groan. “I could eat you out all night.”

You’re torn between imagining the idea and fearing for your poor pussy if he were to actually do that. He stands and you lift your head enough to look at his reflection when it comes back into view. Your breath catches in your throat when your gaze is met with his bare chest. You have no idea when he had stripped his shirt off and you mourn the fact that you didn’t get to see and appreciate the sight more. He shifts slightly and his chin and chest glistens and you feel your body heat with embarrassment when you realize that you were the cause of that. He meets your gaze and winks.

“Think you’re ready for my cock, slut?”

You whine. You honestly don’t know how much more you can handle, but at the same time, you absolutely have to have him inside you. “Please, Seokjin, please… want it.”

His hands give your ass a quick squeeze before they’re leaving you and you can see him focusing on his pants. You curse your current position and the fact that it keeps you from being able to see his cock in all its glory. You know it’s got to be beautiful. It’d be criminal if it wasn’t.

He smacks your ass with his cock, leaving a smear of precum across the skin. God, how long has he been hard for? How did he hold out for this long? You squirm and he chuckles.

“Beg a little more, slut.”

You wiggle your ass, pouting. “Please, Seokjinnie… Please, I want it. Want your cock, wanted it for so long… Please I-”

Seokjin cuts your begging off as he roughly thrusts into you. You cry out, hands scrambling for purchase against the counter as his cock stretches you out all at once. He’s huge, so much bigger than you ever dared imagine. Long and girthy and so perfect to fill every inch of your pussy. You’re honestly not sure how he fits, you feel full to bursting with him buried to the hilt in your cunt. You wished you’d gotten to take your time with it, had him stuff it down your throat. The thought makes saliva pool in your mouth. You’re definitely going to repay the favor and worship his cock when you get the chance.

He swears. “Fuck… your cunt…”

His fingers dig into your hips as he holds himself still for a moment. Then he’s pulling out until just the tip remains before slamming back it, jolting you forward against the counter. Seokjin starts a fast pace, immediately overwhelming you and giving you almost no time to adjust to him.

His grip tightens on your hips, enough to feel like it’ll be a bruise by morning. “Think you can cum again for me, slut? Cum on my cock for me, baby?”

You whine and shake your head. “N-no… please, can’t…”

Seokjin slams into you, draping himself over you and letting a hand snake around your throat. He waits, giving you a chance to say no to this and when he receives no denial, he squeezes lightly. You gasp and he squeezes a little tighter. You feel lightheaded and if it wasn’t for Seokjin’s body pinning you to the counter, you’d probably slide to the floor. Keeping his grip on your throat, he grinds into you, savoring the way your pussy clenches around him.

He loosens his hold slightly and meets your gaze in the window. “You’re going to cum for me again. And your pretty little cunt is gonna milk every drop of cum I have to give you. How does that sound, baby? Want me to fill your slutty little cunt up?”

As much as you don’t want to, you honestly have no idea if your body is even capable of having another orgasm, you want to find out. And the thought of Seokjin fucking you full on top of it has you nodding to his words almost instantly. “Yes, please… Seokjin, please, fill me up…”

His hand tightens again and he gives you a pleased smirk. “You’re so well behaved now. Hard to believe how much of a naughty little brat you’ve been lately.”

He switches from grinding to thrusting again, though his position over you means that his thrusts are shorter but no less rough. His other hand slides around to your front, fingers brushing your clit. You clench around him and receive a low moan from him as his grip on your throat loosens again. His fingers circle your clit and you can feel your orgasm quickly creeping up on you. You briefly wonder if it’s possible to die from too many orgasms. But then Seokjin nips at your neck, drawing your focus back to the way his cock drags along your walls and the filth he’s murmuring into your skin as his fingers work faster.

It washes over you and you cum with a cry of his name, pussy convulsing around his cock. You feel his breath puff against your skin as his forehead presses to your shoulder. His hand falls away from your clit, planting itself once more on your hip as his thrusts pick up speed now that he’s chasing his own end.

Seokjin’s hips stutter to a stop as he cums with a groan pressed to your skin. His cock twitches inside you as he empties himself in your pussy, filling you up. You sink against the counter, praactically purring in contentment at the flood of warmth that he releases within you. He pants against your skin for a long moment and you let your exhaustion slowly wash over you. You’d give anything for a bed right now and to never have to move again.

Seokjin pushes himself up and then slowly slips out of you. You whine at the loss and you get a soft chuckle. His hands rub soothingly at your back before they come to rest on your waist. He gives you a squeeze.

“I’m gonna help you stand and get you sitting on the counter, okay?”

You groan. “Don’t wanna…”

Seokjin huffs a soft laugh. “I don’t care. I need to make sure you’re okay and we need to get your skates off.”

He starts moving you, though you know you aren’t much help with how jelly-like your limbs feel. He finally gets you seated on the counter and it takes all your remaining strength to stay sitting upright. You blink hazy eyes at Seokjin; he’s tucked himself back into his pants but they still remain undone, giving you the faintest glimpse of his cock. You pout, you’d wanted to see it.

His hands cup your cheeks, directing your gaze to his eyes and you blink slowly at him. He gives you a soft smile. “There you are.” His thumbs stroke gently across your cheeks, wiping away the last bits of your tears. “Can you stay sitting up for me? I’m going to get you some water, okay?”

You nod, frowning when his hands leave your face. You want him to keep touching. He turns, grabbing a cup and quickly filling it with water. He hands it to you, helping you when it almost slips through your lax grip. He makes you drink half before he lets you set the cup down. He leans down and makes quick work of your skates, tugging them from your feet. You sigh in relief, feet flexing at finally being free from their confinements and a surprised noise leaves your lips when you feel his thumbs dig into the soles of your feet. He rubs each foot and you nearly fall asleep from the relaxation that slowly spreads through your system.

Seokjin stands, his hands coming back up to cup your face. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you croak out, lips pursing at how wrecked your voice comes out.

You can see Seokjin fight down a prideful grin as his thumbs stroke your cheeks. It’s silent for a few moments before he’s gasping and you give him a questioning look. He tuts, though you don’t know if it’s directed at you or himself.

“All that and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

You giggle, he does all that and is worried about the fact that he didn’t kiss you at all. He tilts your head up, soft smile pulling at the corner of his lips. You blink at him for a moment, not expecting him to follow through with fixing that. But when he leans in, you let your eyes slip shut. The kiss is sweet and chaste, the complete opposite of everything that just happened. It lasts for just a moment and you ache to have more of the feel of his plush lips pressed against yours.

He grins as he pulls away and then busies himself with finding your shoes and your bag, helping you into them. He presses a kiss to your forehead and presses the water back into your grip with the instruction to finish it. He slips his shirt back on, tucking it back into his pants and then he’s darting out the door. Which confuses and alarms you for a split second before you realize that he’s grabbing that money that then men had left on the table.

He’s quick to cash the ticket out, slipping the hefty tip they left you into your purse before taking the drawer back to the office. He’s gone for a few minutes and you sip slowly at the water while you wait. Now that you’re alone, you wonder what all of that meant. If it was just a culmination of sexual tension and frustration or if there was something more there. Hoseok and Jimin have regularly pushed you to tell Seokjin how you feel. But you’ve always kept that hidden, not wanting to make work suddenly weird when this job and your coworkers are the best you’ve ever had.

And the costumes hadn’t gotten Seokjin to ask you out or offer to be the other half of the pair costumes despite the hints you tried dropping. Maybe he just wasn’t interested in that and just wanted a quick fuck. But some of his actions disprove that. Maybe he was just as nervous as you to ask.

He reappears, pressing another kiss to your forehead as he takes the empty glass from you and sets it aside.

“Think you can stand now?”

You shake your legs out experimentally. You certainly seem to have a little more control over them. “I can try.”

That draws an amused snort from him and he helps you down from the counter, hands not leaving you until he’s sure that you’re safe to stand on your own. You adjust your dress, pulling it back down and wincing slightly as the slightly rough material drags over your ass. Your bare ass. You glance around the floor.

“Hey, where are my underwear?”

Seokjin’s back is to you as he wipes down the part of the counter you were just sitting on. “Oh, they’re completely ruined.” He glances at you over his shoulder with a smirk. “And mine now.”

You squirm, feeling some of his cum drip from your abused cunt. Well at least you’re just going home. You can make it that far. Not that they would’ve been much use to you ripped anyway. Maybe you should make him buy you a new pair. That request might come after the feelings talk though.

Once he’s done, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss to your hair. “Ready to go?”

You hum and nod. You are seriously ready to sleep for a day. You’re glad that you don’t work tomorrow. You don’t think Seokjin does either. Maybe you can entice him to stay the night and you could cook him breakfast before the two of you talk.

Seokjin leads you out of the building, locking the door as you go, and guides you towards his car. Your’s is at home, though you’re not sure if Seokjin already knew that or is just directing you towards his car because he doesn’t trust you to drive right now. To be fair, you don’t think you could actually drive if you had to. You’re glad that you’d been planning to drink at the party and so you were just going to either catch a ride, stay at Jimin’s, or get an Uber so that your car isn’t left in the lot overnight.

Once settled, he starts the car and pulls out of the lot. You frown watching him turn.

“Seokjin, I live the other way.”

“I know.”

“And you live the other way.”

He smirks. “I know.”

You swallow. “Where are we going?”

“Well, it’s a shame for you to get all dressed up for a party and to not even go to show it off.”

“I can’t go to a party like this!” You only briefly caught sight of your full reflection but you know how fucked out you look. He can’t seriously be taking you to the party right now.

Seokjin’s hand lands on your thigh. “You had no problem going to work like that.”

You whine and squirm, immediately squeezing your legs together when you feel another dribble of cum slip from you. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Seokjin just hums, driving the rest of the short distance to Jimin’s house in silence. You try your best to fix yourself up in the mirror so you don’t look completely ruined. It’s only slightly effective. You wish you had Yennifer’s powers, then you could just magic your way home. Would serve Seokjin right.

He parks and helps you out of the car before reaching into the back for a wig and a sword. He adjusts both items and you look him over appraisingly.

“At least you’ve got Geralt’s brutish personality down.” You tease.

Seokjin takes your hand and presses a kiss to it before using it to lead you to the house. “I’d like to think I’m far more charming than him.”

You giggle. “That remains to be seen.”

The party is in full swing when you enter and it takes the both of you a few moments to find your friends. When you do, they all are quick to take in your appearance and the way Seokjin’s hand is wrapped around yours. Jimin crows victoriously, slapping Taehyung on the back.

“I told you! You owe me!”

You bury your face in Seokjin’s shoulder to hide your embarrassment. You just wanted to go home and cuddle. Seokjin’s lips brush your ear.

“If you promise to stay a while, we can get revenge on him and go fuck in his bed.”

#btsholidaybingo #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #btsguild #kwritersworldnet #thekimlinenet #ksmutclub #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #jin x reader #jin smut #jin fanfic

769 notes · View notes

ddaenggtan · 3 years

Text

say you want passion (i think you found it) | M

you’re a tease. he’s tired of it.

pairing | shownu x fem!reader

wc | 6.5k

genre/warning | Covid doesnt exist sorry, big dick shownu, sweetheart shownu, dom shownu, sub reader, shownu is called hyunwoo in this, he also likes to be called daddy dont judge, sloppy blowjobs, but still, blowjobs, Shownu eats pussy like a CHAMP, Strength Kink, praise, degradation, degrading praise, this is HIGHLY specialized, you've been warned, deepthroating, DEEP deepthroating at that, nsfw pictures, aka shownu likes to remember it when he does a good job so he takes a picture bc it lasts longer uwu, talking with your mouth full (ill let u guess), doggystyle, teasing, brief nipple play, hickeys, begging, dumbification, rough sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, coming inside, gspot shenanigans, this is genuinely so unrealistic please do not think sex is like this ever in real life, i mean literally ever if you ever fuck someone and it's like this then they aren't real they're a fae or a god or some shit okay, aftercare, shownu uses 3-in-1 because He Does, Barely Edited by the grace of @personawife‘s beta that she fit in when she could ilu,

a/n | first n last shownu smut specifically bc its leilas birthday (@honiboyyoon). u better enjoy this. (side note for anyone who isn’t into shownu smut, but is curious: there’s a namjoon version on ao3 that i’ll link here), but this took entirely too much effort and i did my damndest to fit as many things that ur into in this one fic as i possibly could. i hope this makes up for u probably never getting the vampire maknae line foursome i kept promising you sdfkldjsfasdf

The front door opens as you step out of the car, and you grin as your boyfriend appears in the frame. He grins at you and your best friend and you search his expression for a sign of anything other than his usual sweetness, but find none. You resist the urge to pout - you won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Good luck!” Your best friend teases. You roll your eyes at her - she knows precisely what you envisioned upon arriving back to the quaint little house you call home with Hyunwoo. It’s the reason you wore this outfit, and tried on the clothes you did whilst shopping, and sent him selfies in the poses you did.

You’re on a mission, dammit. It’s been weeks - literal weeks, not even an exaggeration - since you were properly fucked, and you’re fairly tired of prancing around the house in your shortest shorts and deepest v-necks so that when you bend over just right to water your fern, he gets the perfect eyeful. It’s exhausting to try to send all these signals all day every day - but you know how flustered he gets when you ask him directly, so you tried a different tactic. You were being nice!

And it hasn’t worked. At all. He’s offered to help you water your plants, to let you borrow his flannel pajamas in case you’re cold, and even to buy you a sweater, at one point.

In August.

So suffice to say, you’re getting a little tired of him being oblivious. So you’d called up your best friend and invited her to go shopping with you, and yes, it was also very fun to hang out with her and get boba, but she’s also the master of hyping you up and making you feel sexy and desirable, so it was truly a win-win.

Plus, she color-coordinated her own houndstooth pantsuit with your pink houndstooth skirt/blazer combo, so really, you should send her a fruit basket or something. Maybe cookies.

The point remains that your boyfriend hasn’t responded to any of your borderline pornographic selfies or the very pointed videos of you holding various sex toys and asking if it would fit. You’re at your wit’s end, and you were really hoping that it would truly get through to him this time that you want nothing more than to be railed against the mattress so hard that you cry.

You’re a simple girl, after all.

But no! He’s got that sweet smile on his face as you carry your shopping bags in one hand and your purse in the other, carefully sidestepping the cosmos he’d just planted the other day so you wouldn’t step all over his hard work. His smile widens when you reach the door, and he presses a sweet, gentle kiss against your forehead that has you on the verge of tears.

He waves again to your best friend as she drives off, and as usual snags your shopping bags out of your hand so he can place them beside the door. You’ve already pulled your blazer off to hang in the entryway closet by the time he’s shut the door, and you gasp as you’re jerked back. His hands are on either side of your head, braced against the front door like it’s the only thing keeping him up, and you struggle to focus on anything that isn’t the way his muscles flex.

“Do you have any idea what today was like for me?” He growls. The sound of it brings heat between your thighs, and you resist the urge to cheer.

“Sorry, should I not have sent you any selfies today?” You ask, keeping your voice as light and innocent as you can. He makes eye contact with you; there’s a fire in his eyes you haven’t seen in what feels like forever. “Did you not like them?”

“You know damn well what I thought of them,” he mutters, one hand coming down to rest on your hip. “I’ve tried so hard lately, y’know? The tiny shorts with your ass hanging out, the shirts that show everything when you bend over. God, the bending.”

“Really?” You breathe. It’s always exhilarating to know that you’re desired, but this is nearly heady. He fixes his gaze on you, eyes burning, and your smile softens slightly.

“I was trying,” he says, clearly holding himself back, “To be a good boyfriend. To make sure that you know that I want more from you than just sex, and that I value you as more than just someone attractive. I was trying so hard to prove that you�� that we have more between us than that. That I respect you more than that.”

“So don’t respect me.” You say it like it’s obvious, because it is. You’ve been laying down signals galore the past few weeks, and clearly he did not get the memo.

“I’m always going to respect you,” he says instead, sighing slightly as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to disrespect you, you’re worth more than that. But fuck, all I wanna do is fuck you stupid right now.”

“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip. It’s all you’ve wanted for weeks and now you might finally - finally - get it. “Disrespect me, daddy.”

The hand on your hip tightens, no doubt bruising the skin, and you gasp at the feeling. Hyunwoo makes eye contact - just long enough to make sure that you’re on board for whatever it is he’s about to do.

He could probably suggest a number of things that you’ve never considered and you’d say yes, at this point - you’re not ashamed to admit that you’re desperate.

The hand on your hips lowers - he traces all the way down your thigh and to the back of your knee before travelling back up, this time under your skirt. He kisses you as he does it - long, heated kisses that make your head spin so perfectly that you don’t know what he’s doing until he glides a finger across your clothed core.

You gasp into the kiss, but it doesn’t deter him. He pulls down, kissing and biting down your jaw to your neck as his fingers trace over you once more. You can feel him smile against your skin.

“You’re already soaked,” he tuts. “You’ve ruined this pair, princess. How naughty of you. Would you like daddy to take them off?”

“Yes!” You moan as his fingers ghost over your folds once more.

“Yes what?” He asks, and you could cry with how much you want him.

“Yes, daddy,” you tell him, and he smiles once more. It’s blinding, how bright he is when he smiles like that, and for a second you’re breathless. Then you feel them - his hands, burning a trail along your thigh to tug at the band of your underwear. It only takes him a few seconds to pull them down as he bends, and he kisses your thigh as he brings one of your legs up so he can slide them off completely.

He was right - they are ruined, the evidence of your arousal immediately apparent by the large wet spot in the center. He doesn’t bother to slide them off your other leg, though - just lets them hang from your ankle, no doubt as a reminder of how strongly he affects you.

He presses kisses to every bit of skin he can as he stands fully upright once more, suckling a mark into your collarbone that you’ll absolutely cherish when you have to cover it up before work tomorrow.

His hands don’t leave your thighs - warm and strong and utterly distracting, you can’t take your mind off them as he kisses you again, heady and intoxicating. You feel it as one hand travels back underneath your skirt again, gliding between your thighs.

A moan sticks in your throat as his fingers slide in between your folds - the feeling of them teasing against your hole before they move to rub light circles into your clit is nearly too much to handle.

“Hyunwoo, please–”

“Patience,” he interrupts. You can hear the smile in his voice as he slides over your hole once more, spreading your arousal across your lips before teasing your clit again. “Good girls have patience, right, princess?”

You whimper, hips arching off the door to try to guide his finger inside of you. It’s a futile attempt - he just returns to the slow, infuriating circles on your clit, and you would cry if it didn’t feel as good as it does.

It could be hours or it could be seconds that he continues this pattern - slow, maddening circles on your clit, then the slightest bit of a tease at your hole, just enough to make you think that maybe he’ll fuck you with his fingers, before he returns to the circles. It’s enough to make a stronger woman cry, and you can’t help the whines that you let out when he once again deprives you of the fuck you so desperately want.

“Please just fuck me,” you finally break, hands moving from where they’re wrapped around his neck to circle his waist and do your best to pull him in closer. You can feel him against your thigh, warm and thick and big, and you want him.

He hisses when you grind against him, and the one hand that remains on your hip tightens ever so slightly. “You’re being very bad, princess,” he chastises, but you couldn’t care less. Your mind is focused on the memory of what he felt like inside you, and you’re ready to burst with need.

“I don’t care,” you tell him firmly, hands sliding up under his shirt to run your nails against his muscled torso. “I don’t care, I need you, please, I just want–”

“I know,” he cuts you off. His hands disappear from you entirely, but only for a moment - before you know it, two large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding yours out of his shirt. You can't stop whimpering, caught between the memory of the last time he was between your thighs and the reality of his lips against your skin.

Hyunwoo drops - he hits the wooden floor with a muffled thud, and before you can even react, his hands are underneath your skirt. He pushes it upwards, muttering something almost reverent about thighs as he does, and then he’s pressing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs. His hands don’t stop, though - they keep going, shoving your skirt up until it pools around your waist.

“H-Hyunwoo—”

“Ssh,” he whispers, giving your thigh a light bite. A heartbeat later and you can feel his warm breath against your folds. “You wanted to feel good, right?”

“Yes, please,” you breathe, hands instinctively tangling in his soft brown hair.

“Then be a good slut for me, and stay still while I make you feel good."

You stifle a whimper - he knows what his words do to you, and you jolt as his tongue gently nudges against your folds. There's no stopping the soft sigh that falls from your lips as he delves deeper, ghosting across your swollen clit to nudge against your hole. He's tentative, teasing with his movements - he likes to make you wait, tease you until you're grinding against his mouth.

You doubt this will be an exception.

A moan is thrust out of you as you feel your hole stretch slightly. Not much, not far - just enough to accommodate him as he fucks your hole with his tongue. It's just the right side of unsatisfying - you're aching, absolutely dripping for him, and this is just enough to whet your appetite and make you hungry for more.

You can feel his smile against you, and you already know what's coming - still, it's disappointing when he pulls his tongue out. You whine, unashamed of how you must sound or how loud you may be, and he chuckles.

"Patience, baby girl," he breathes. Warm air flows over you, and your hands move to tangle in his hair. His tongue shifts again, lapping at your clit for long enough that you think you may cum before he stops to draw mind-numbing circles around it instead.

Time bends around the two of you - it always does when he's between your thighs like this, when he's teasing and deliberate with every swipe of his tongue against you, every press of him against your hole. He edges you for so long; slow circles around your clit turn to quick thrusts inside of you that shift into laps against your hole that drag upward, just barely catching your clit before they stop.

You're sure there would be a puddle on the floor were it not for his dedication. The entire house is filled with the sounds of his mouth against you, only drowned out by the sound of your cries as he begins to suck on your clit.

Your knees quake on either side of his head, and he doesn't hesitate to bring his hands up behind your thighs. Without a second thought, he lifts - not even pausing in his mission, tongue still thrusting into you at an almost absurd rate - and then your thighs are resting atop his shoulders. You gasp, both in shock and in pleasure as he lets his teeth graze ever so lightly against that bundle of nerves.

This isn't the first time he's done this - put you on his shoulders and left you there while he eats you out within an inch of your life - but it's the first time in a long time, and it has you seeing stars as one of your hands stays tangled in his hair and the other is braced against the wall beside you.

"Hyunwoo, please–" You beg, but you can't catch your breath long enough between moans to say anything more. He sucks again, the flat of his tongue gliding over your clit as it's pulled into his mouth once more, and your vision goes white. Your knees quake, and you're sure that if you had been standing, you wouldn't be anymore.

"That's my girl," Hyunwoo praises after he's done cleaning up your cum. When you can see again, you realize he's set you down on the floor and is slowly massaging your thighs.

"Hyun, I....please....can you–"

"You want me to fuck you stupid, baby?" He asks. His tone is a little patronizing, but that's okay, because it only serves to turn you on more. "Does my sweet little whore need my cock in her?"

"Yes, please," you whimper, hips tilting upwards against nothing of their own accord.

Hyunwoo stands and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his grey sweats. A few moments later he's pulled them down just enough to free himself. Your mouth drops open slightly when you finally lay eyes on him - you know he's big. You know that he is big, you've had his entire length inside of you several times now and you've felt it for days after each time, but it still never fails to shock you.

Because he is big. Thick, so thick you can hardly wrap your entire fist around him, and long, with the perfect curve that hits that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. His dick is nearly as perfect as he is, and that is a very high bar.

It's also so hard that you can see it throbbing, jumping every so often as his muscles tense.

"You want me to make you come with my cock, right, baby?" He asks, once again using that patronizing tone that makes heat creep across your cheeks.

You nod.

"Then you're going to have to ask nicely, aren't you?" He prods.

"Please, daddy," you say without hesitation, "Please fuck me, I want you to make me cum so hard that I cry, I want to be a good slut for you."

"Very good, baby," he praises. "Now I want you to prove that you mean it. Can you be a good little whore and suck my cock?"

You lean forward, not even bothering to use your hands because your bones still feel like jelly. You run your tongue across the tip of him, giving small kitten licks to the slit just how he likes. A groan rumbles through him, and he lets out a soft gasp as you slip your tongue down to wet the shaft as well.

"Fuck, princess," he moans, "I think you've gotten even better at this."

Encouraged, you let your mouth hang open– just barely wide enough to get your lips around the shaft– and let your tongue rest on your spit-slick lips. You glance up long enough to see that Hyunwoo's eyes are blown wide with his desire before you mouth sloppily down his dick. It's messy and would probably be disgusting if it were anyone but the two of you and Hyunwoo didn't have that look in his eyes that promises you'll remember tonight for several weeks.

His hands move, one adjusting his grip on the doorframe as you suck the head of his cock between your lips while the other comes down to grip one of the two buns you put your hair in that morning. He tugs - not hard, not yet, but firmly enough that it stings slightly and makes you keen.

"If you're going to make a mess, don't you think you should clean it up?" He asks. You lift a brow and he grins. "Clearly you're not that tired if you still have an attitude."

"No," you whine, "I am tired, my bones are basically nonexistent right now thanks to you."

The hand in your hair loosens slightly, and Hyunwoo tuts. "I have to do all the work, huh? Then get on your knees for me, baby girl, so I can use you like a good toy."

You rush to comply, and only wince a bit at the feeling of the cold floor against your knees. His hand stays where it is the entire time you're moving, but he waits until you're sitting still, legs folded under you and giving you that extra bit of height you'll need.

"Let me know if it's too much," Hyunwoo commands, and you nod. His eyes darken, slightly, and he runs his thumb along your jaw. "What's the signal?"

"Two taps on your thigh," You tell him, not for the first time. He's always so careful beforehand, and while you appreciate just how much he cares about you, you also are sick of just staring at his cock, and your mouth is beginning to water.

Hyunwoo coos slightly, and the hand in your hair shifts to guide rather than just anchor. "You're always so good for me," he mutters as he slides the tip past your lips. "Always such a good little slut."

You don't stop the whimper that escapes your throat – he loves them, and you know it. Your mouth is lax, nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he sees fit, and there's the slightest twinge of complaint as your jaw begins to stretch.

You ignore it, determined to get as much of him as possible this time. You've practiced for this, nearly every day, since the last time and you're not stopping until you beat your record.

Hyunwoo sighs as he hits the back of your throat. "God, you're perfect," he mutters as he begins to slide back out. You let your jaw relax a bit as he does, and when just the tip rests on your tongue, you give it a small kiss, just because you can.

Hyunwoo smiles, gaze softening for a split second. "Hands in position, baby girl," he reminds you, and you do as he says – one hand on back of each of his thighs, so you can tap out if you need to.

Also so you can feel those incredible muscles flex as he starts shallow thrusts, rippling and tensing under your fingers. If your mouth weren't otherwise occupied, you'd bite them.

Hyunwoo continues carefully, testing just how much of himself can fit before you start to gag on his length….and just how long you can choke before you really start to need air.

He pulls back before you even need to tap out, always careful to keep an eye on you for any warning signs. He slides back in and waits until he hits the back of your throat again, pushing slightly further, and just as he's about to begin pulling back out, you look up at him with wide eyes.

You know you look like a mess; drool gathering on your lips because your mouth is too full to hold it, tears streaming down your cheeks from your attempts to stop gagging. Hyunwoo loves it when you look ruined like this, adores taking your perfectly crafted image and crumbling it to pieces in his hands.

So it's no surprise when he lets out a low moan, or when he lets himself slip a little further down your throat. This is as far as he's ever gotten and you want him to know how good you are, how hard you've been practicing with the toys underneath your bed. He slides out, precum dripping onto your tongue as he does, and you bat your lashes at him.

"Use me," you tell him. "Use me like the toy that I am for you, Daddy." Something darkens in his eyes and he doesn't hesitate to thrust back in.

Your eyes water with the force of it and you don't stop the moan that escapes you as he slides deeper down your throat than he's ever been before. There's still a couple inches left before he'd be fully sheathed, but Hyunwoo doesn't even seem to notice as he pulls out just to thrust back in.

Neither of you are quiet — you can barely hear the wet squelch of your mouth. It's drowned out by the moans he draws from you, which in turn pull moans from him between the words he growls out.

"God, you're so perfect," he mutters as he fucks your throat with abandon. "The perfect angel slut, so good at getting throatfucked, just made for my cock no matter where it goes, huh? You're such a good whore, you're probably fucking soaked just from my dick in your mouth, aren't you?"

You whimper around him and he speeds up, relentless; he's not wrong either — you are soaked, can feel it between your thighs as your hips rock fruitlessly against empty air.

"Oh, look at you," Hyunwoo coos, "So desperate to be fucked while sucking me off. Maybe one day I'll get one of your buddies over here to fuck your throat while you ride my cock, since you're so desperate to get used like a good slut. But I don't even think that'll be enough, will it? Because they won't be me." He thrusts a little deeper, a little rougher, and you aren't sure if the noises you're making are as loud as they seem to you but either way, they only serve to egg him on.

"No," Hyunwoo continues, "They won't be Daddy, will they? They won't be able to get this deep in your throat, won't be able to fuck you like this. And you know why? Because this is my hole." He punctuates the sentence with a sharp thrust and you squeeze the backs of his thighs to show your agreement. "You're my perfect slut. My good little whore. Isn't that right, baby girl?"

You squeeze the backs of his thighs again, but it isn't enough. He stills, still buried nearly to the hilt inside you, and cocks a brow.

"Well? Aren't you my perfect whore?" Your face flames, heat burning in your cheeks. Your jaw aches from being stretched for so long, there spit and precum dripping down your chin and you can feel him throbbing in your throat.

And Hyunwoo looks expectant. He wants to hear you agree with him, wants you to remind yourself of this fact.

You don't even blink when he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his sweats. You can't see what he does, but based on how he angles it and the shallow thrusts he gives without looking away from the screen, you can guess.

"Aw, is my baby girl getting shy now?" He teases as you make eye contact with the lens and feel your face heat up. "Don't even worry about it, baby. I just wanna remember how fucking perfect you look right now forever. My perfect cocksucking slut."

You whimper, pussy clenching around nothing and you're overcome with a sudden need to feel him inside you.

"Are you gonna be a good slut now?" Hyunwoo continues, still recording. "Are you daddy's good slut?" You nod and can't stop the reflexive swallow as he goes even deeper. Hyunwoo groans at the feeling and you can see his grip on his phone tighten for a moment.

"Say it," he commands when his eyes open once more. "I want to hear you say it."

" 'm 'a'y's 'er'ec' 'ore," you moan. It doesn't even sound like words, at this point, but when you look back up at him with wide eyes. Hyunwoo looks proud.

"You absolutely are," he whispers. He hits a button and then pockets his phone again. He slides carefully out of your mouth and casually strokes his cock with one hand as he wipes spit from your face with the other. "I think you've been a perfect angel, baby girl, so you've earned your reward. Where would you like it?"

"Bed, please, Daddy." Your voice is hoarse and scratchy, but you don't care, and Hyunwoo doesn't seem to either as he pulls his sweats up and then bends. The world spins for a moment and then steadies, and you realize he's got you in his arms. Hyunwoo carries you like a princess towards the room you share, and tosses you on the bed without hesitation.

Your eyes widen as he starts to strip out of his clothes, and you can't deny that you enjoy the show. The torso of muscles all rippling, the golden skin all shining, the desire in his eyes. Then the sweats — they hit the ground with a thud and you idly hope his phone is alright before you remember there are more important things right now.

He is, unsurprisingly, still hard — almost painfully so, a deep swollen pink at the head and jumping every so often. The vein running up the underside is throbbing, and you can actually feel yourself get wetter with anticipation.

One knee rests on the mattress, then the other, and Hyunwoo is crawling towards you on his hands and knees, and you can see every muscle as it shifts and fuck you love this man.

"I love you," you tell him, not for the first time. He breaks for a second, a bright smile taking over his face.

"I love you," he replies, pressing a kiss to your thigh. "Can we take those clothes off now, baby, because as great as you look, you're even better naked."

Breath catches in your throat and you nod. Hyunwoo is almost reverent as his hands glide up your thighs and is exceedingly gentle as he slides down the zipper and then the skirt itself. He smiles again, almost shy, and you can't help but marvel at the fact that this is the same man who bad you gagging on his dick not five minutes ago.

He leans in and gently nudges your nose with his, but when you lean forward to kiss him, he backs away with a playful grin. His warm hand rests on your waist and he leans in again only to dart back when you try to kiss him — not far, though. He's still close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath mix with yours, but it's still infuriating.

You pout at him, and his smile just grows. "What is it?" He asks, teasing. "What do you want?" His lips ghost over yours as he speaks and it nearly breaks you.

"You," You whine. "I want you."

"You have me." He leans forward then, capturing your lips with an intensity you haven't seen in a long time. His mouth moves against yours and it's firm, commanding, and absolutely intoxicating as he pulls back just to lightly bite your lips. It's not rough, not really, but it's fiery and exciting and everything you've wanted.

He presses closer, nimble fingers undoing the buttons of your blouse in what seems like an instant. Warm hands cross your spine and then your bra is gone, too. His skin seems to meld to yours, hands moving everywhere as he lays you back.

Your breath hitches when you feel him against your entrance and he smiles into the bruise he's sucking into your throat.

"You're so fucking wet, baby," he breathes as his tip teases against your entrance. "You're always so wet for me, so ready to be fucked. Just a perfect fucking whore, huh?" He slides in then, but only a bit. Just like before, it's just barely enough for you to feel him stretching you out. Just a tease of what's to come.

"Hyunwoo," you whine. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he chuckles.

"What is it? You want more?" He slides in further, but just a centimeter. You whine again, pushing your hips up against his to try to push him deeper. You can feel yourself throbbing, aching, for him, and you're tired of being teased. You want to be full.

You tell him as much, watching his pupils dilate with every word until there's hardly any iris left to be seen.

"Is that so?" He mutters, almost to himself. "Well, your wish is my command." He slides in, slowly, but this time he doesn't stop. He just keeps going and going and going, until you can feel him at your cervix. It stings – you're stretched so far, and he's so deep inside – but you relish it.

"Beautiful," Hyunwoo mutters as he begins to slide back out, inch by agonizing inch. You whimper as the tip nearly slides out, too, and your hips lift of their own accord. Hyunwoo takes the hint and pushes back in; he creates a rhythm, one so slow, so maddening, that you're on the verge of tears as you whine and whimper underneath him.

He notices your frustration, pulls himself away from lazily mouthing at your nipples, and hums.

"What's wrong, baby? You aren't satisfied yet?" He gives you that Boy-Next-Door grin that you know hides a demon behind it. "Are you going to ask nicely again? Tell me no one fills you up like I do and beg me to fuck you the way you want? You look so pretty when you beg."

Any other time, you wouldn't. You would at least hesitate, make him work a little harder for your pleas. But you're desperate and frustrated and have no shame, so you don't hesitate.

"Please, Daddy," you beg, letting your legs fall open and arching your back so his eyes drop lower and lower. "Please, Daddy, no one can fill this pussy like you do, no one can fuck my holes like you. Pl–please," you moan as he slides entirely inside once more, "Please fuck me right, make me come on your cock, I wan– wanna be fucked stupid, want you to– to fuck me stupid, please, wanna be Daddy's perfect slut, pl– Ah!"

You can't help your surprised gasp as Hyunwoo flips you onto your stomach with a low growl.

Warmth drapes along your back as you rise up, palms splayed across the sheets and elbows locked to keep you upright; his skin is sweat-slick and heated against your own, and a shiver runs down your spine when he pauses to runs his teeth along the lobe of your ear.

"You are the best part of my life," he announces.

Butterflies explode in your belly a split second before he slides out of you.

"And I'm gonna make you cum so hard that you'll never forget that fact."

"Hyunwo— Oh!"

He thrusts into you with enough force to toss you into the headboard, had he not planted one hand firmly on your hip and had the other curled around your breast to tease your nipple.

"You like that?" Hyunwoo asks with a smile in his voice. He repeats the movement and you clench around him as you gasp out a moan. It's all you can do to nod and he flicks your nipple in response. "Good."

He lifts up, both hands now holding you steady by an iron grip on your hips, and readjusts his legs so yours are spread slightly wider. Your arms are trembling but you pay them no mind.

Until Hyunwoo thrusts forward, pulling back just as quickly only to bury himself again, a heartbeat later. His pace is absolutely merciless; the sound of skin hitting skin fills the room, mixing beautifully with the wet slide as he shoves back in and the rough, throat moans that he pulls from you. Your vision swims, and you can't concentrate on anything else as he gives you the fucking that's been haunting your dreams every night.

He adjusts his grip, one hand moving to sit firmly on the small of your back and press you down just a bit. The angle shifts – not much, but enough that the next time he pounds into you, he thrusts right up against that spot that makes your toes curl.

You cry out, vision going white as he hits it again, and again, and again, absolutely ruthless in his mission. Your muscles go weak, biceps twitching as they give out, and then you're face down in the mattress. Hyunwoo doesn't hesitate, just ghosts his palm down to rest between your shoulders and keep you in place.

He might be talking – you certainly think you hear the low tones of his voice as he speaks to you, but you can't make out words. It's too much work, too many syllables, too much effort to try to work past the haze that blankets your mind. You can still feel him, pumping in and out of your gushing pussy — the stretch barely stings anymore, and he throbs inside of you. Each thrust is still perfectly angled to hit that mind-numbing place that keeps you from doing anything more than screeching his name.

He slows, immediately switching from speed to power as he manages to put even more force behind his hips. The hand in your back moves, as does the one on your hip and then you're rising.

A warm palm across your throat – not choking, just keeping you in place while the other traces along your spread thigh.

There are words – something your brain is too fried to make out, and then a rumble that vibrates through you. A laugh. His thrusts get a little faster as he fucks up into you, and you're dimly aware of his fingers slipping between your folds.

Someone screams — no, not someone. You. You scream, something so loud and provocative that it can't even be called a moan anymore, as he begins to rub circles around your clit. Orgasms rock through you, every part of your body going boneless even as you shake from the force of it. It's impossible to tell when it stops, if it stops – the aftershocks are strong and he still hasn't stopped fucking you, though he's slower and gentler now, letting you ride it out on his cock.

"……perfect for me, " you hear him whisper as you're senses come back. "Absolutely perfect, an amazing fucking— just divine, you are."

"Hyun," you manage, and it's no shock that you sound absolutely wrecked. "D– Daddy."

"I'm here, baby girl," he mutters, "What do you need?"

"You," You respond instantly. "Want you, wanna fee– feel it, want you to fill me, please, in– ah, inside, want you dripping ou–" You're cut off once more as your body heaves with yet another aftershock, clenching around his hard length again.

"Whatever you want, baby," he promises. "Can you come once more for me, baby girl? Just one more time so we can come together?"

"Mm…." You pause, taking the best inventory you can as your muscles jolt again. You consider lying to him, or just omitting this, because you know he'll never stop reminding you of it, but decide against it. Instead, you quietly admit, "I don't think I ever stopped."

"Oh, fuck," he breathes. Within moments, you can feel his thrusts turn more erratic, more frenzied, and then you're impossibly fuller even as something warm drips down the inside of your thigh.

He's gentle as he lays you down on the bedspread, exceedingly so as he pulls his softening cock out of you. His weight disappears from the bed for a few minutes that seem to stretch into hours, and then the mattress dips, and his soft smile appears once more.

"Here sweetheart, drink this." He hands you a familiar cup and when you take a sip, the water is cool and refreshing. Wet warmth, surprising but pleasant, glides along your inner thigh and you look down to see him cleaning you up.

"Mm, this is quite possibly the perfect view," you tease, wagging your brows as you make a show of checking out his muscular arms. It makes him laugh, the soft one that's just for when you're being ridiculous.

"Drunk your water, you menace," he commands as he continues to wipe. "You're gonna need to replenish your fluids, after all that." He looks pointedly towards the bed and you follow his gaze, face heating when your eyes land on the rather sizable wet spot staining the sheets.

"Whoops?" You offer. When you look back at him, he only looks fond.

"Don't even start, it was hot. Besides, they needed to be put in the wash anyway. I'll start them after you get into the bath." He gives over you, taking kisses along every piece of skin he can until he reaches your lips. You can't help the way your breath catches – even after all this time, he manages to make you breathless over the smallest things.

He peppers kisses along your cheeks, and nose, and everywhere else until you're giggling and trying to turn away from him. Unfortunately, with his arms on either side of you, you're fairly well trapped, so you settle for fucking your head into his neck instead.

You pause. Sniff again. Back up. He looks sheepish, like he already knows what you're going to say.

"We were out of the fancy stuff—" He tries, but you don't let him.

"You used that 3-in-1 shit again?" You demand. "Actual body wash isn't even fancy, it's what normal people use! That's it, you're coming into the bath with me after you start the laundry so that I can make sure you didn't use it in your hair, too."

He smiles again, though you have a sneaking suspicion that he's just humoring you when he nods and says, "Whatever you want."

#shownu smut #shownu x reader #reader insert #dddaenggtan

146 notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years

Text

Take it Slow - Part Fifty-Seven

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Smut and Fluff.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

As promised, Wednesday after work, you and Harry went to the tattoo parlor so you could get your nose pierced. You picked out a white gold stud, and picked out a few hoops you’d want to interchange with once you could.

“This one is so cool, it has diamonds on it. It could be for like special occasions.”

Harry couldn’t wait to see you with the hoop once it was time. He was already parched just thinking about it. You grabbed some thinner hoops for work as well. He watches you look over the naval piercings. He points to a few he likes and you grab one of them. Your name gets called and you go to sit in the chair.

“Which side?”

“Left, please.”

“And you’re doing this so you can have a hoop later, right?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, so I’ll do it a little lower down. Now, don’t twist this like you would an ear piercing. You need to let this be so it can heal properly.”

“Okay.” You reach out for Harry’s hand as the man cleans up your nose. You close your eyes, and Harry almost thinks to take your picture because he think you look so cute.

“Okay, here we go.”

You grit your teeth and white knuckle Harry’s hand. He places his other hand on your shoulder.

“Son of a bitch!” You yelp as the needle goes into your nose.

“Almost done.” The man reassures you.

Your nostril felt numb, but you were happy with it when he showed it to you in the mirror.

“Looks great, love.”

“Alright, Harry, you ready?”

“Yup.” He hands him a piece of paper from his pocket. “I’d like that on my forearm, where there’s space.”

Harry sits down in a chair as the man cleans up his arm. You sit next him.

“What are you getting?”

Before Harry can answer, the man puts a piece of paper over where Harry wants it and peels it back. You see a very small, very detailed sunflower.

“A sunflower, for my sunflower.” He winks at you.

“Oh, Harry…are you sure?”

“Positive. Will yeh hold my hand?” He smiles.

“Don’t make fun of me.” You pout. “It really hurt.”

“I know baby.” He puts his hand out to you as the man gets to work. You’re amazed that Harry doesn’t even flinch, but he had so many he could hardly feel it anymore.

Thirty or so minutes later it was done. You take a picture of it for him before the man bandages it up. You each pay separately for your things and head out.

“So my nose really looks good?”

“Yup, can’t wait to see the hoop in it though.”

“Six to eight weeks.” You smile. “I can’t believe you got my favorite flower tattooed on you, that was so sweet.”

“S’not weird?”

“Not at all! It’s so special, like, something for the two of us.” He takes your hand in his and kisses it.

Harry had confirmed your double date with Rachel and Mariah. The four of you agreed on a trivia night at a local bar. You all meet there Friday night after work. It was a little weird for Harry to be hanging out with someone outside of work, but he got on with Mariah pretty well, so it wasn’t totally awkward.

You and Rachel told stories from college, and Mariah talked about getting into photography. Rachel explains why she wanted to be a high school art teacher.

“I just think kids that age lose a lot of the fun in their lives. Art is important at any age, but when they’re getting ready to go to college, I wanna help them destress with my classes.”

“That’s so cool.” Mariah says and Rachel blushes.

“Mariah, what was it like when you and Harry first met?” You were a tad tipsy.

“Oh god, I was terrified of him.” She laughs and his jaw drops. “But then when he shook my hand and I saw the bright pink color on his nails, I knew wasn’t so scary.” She giggles. “I’ll never forget, after the first two weeks, he comes over to me and he says, ‘I think you’re the only person here other than myself that isn’t a blithering idiot’.” Everyone at the table laughs at her impression of him. It was pretty good.

“I was right though.”

“Very true. God, it’s so annoying when someone else tries to set up a shot for you, isn’t it? Like hello, I have a vision.”

“Exactly! If it was as easy as just snappin’ away, anyone would do it.”

“So was everyone scared of Harry?” Rachel asks.

“I think they were mostly intimidated. Everyone talks to each other and gets together, but H always stuck to himself.”

“Not the type of people I wanted to be chummy with.” He has a disgusted look on his face, thinking of Mykenzie. “I quite like Isaac though, he’s been a good addition.”

“Love Isaac, he always gets us everything we need.”

“He’s always so nice when I come to visit.” You say.

“He’s got a huge crush on Harry.” Mariah giggles.

“Stop it.” Harry says groaning.

“You know he does.”

“Thought he just thought I was cute or somethin’. Didn’t think it was a crush.”

“Well, I’ve never asked him personally, so he could easily just be attracted to you. I’ve heard him talk about it with Julia and Dana.” The sound of Julia’s name makes you want to vomit.

“Jesus, Harry, does everyone at your work have a thing for you?” Rachel asks.

“Everyone except this one.” He winks and nods towards Mariah, making both girls giggle.

Trivia starts and you all pick a stupid team name. You and Rachel were best at coming up with answers. You both knew a lot about pop culture, and luckily there weren’t too many other categories.

“How the fuck did yeh know that?” Was something Harry said quite a bit, and you both just shrugged your shoulders.

“Which Kardashian married an NBA player after dating for thirty days?” The emcee asks.

“Oh that was Khloe.” You tell Rachel to write down. Harry’s jaw drops. “What?”

“You’re obsessed with reality television!”

“Not true! I used to watch Keeping Up when I was in college. It was night to have on in the background when I’d do homework. It’s not a show you have to pay attention to.”

“What was the name of season twenty Bachelor?”

“Ben Higgins.” You, Rachel, and Mariah all say at the same time.

“Jesus Christ.”

“You watch the Bachelor?” Rachel asks her.

“Never miss an episode. You watch?”

“Yeah, we should get together to watch some time.”

“I’d like that.” They smile at each other. You put your hand on Harry’s leg and give it a little squeeze.

“What did Leonardo DiCaprio text back to Jennifer Lopez after James Corden texted him from her phone back in 2016?”

“Who the fuck would know-“

“You mean tonight boo boo? Club wise?” You say as Rachel nods and writes it down. You look at Harry whose mouth was hanging wide open. “Do you not watch carpool karaoke ever?”

“Can’t say I do, love.”

“You’re missing out.” You giggle.

“Do you still have that picture of Leo with that quote over his like serious face and it’s in black and white?”

“I do! It’s in a drawer in my office. Makes me laugh when I look at it.”

You were quirky, and Harry rarely got to see these little things come out. He liked it, a lot. You were sort of nerdy in your own right and he thought it was insanely cute.

Your group came in third place, earning you each a coupon for a free app the next time you came to the bar. You all say goodnight, and confirm what time with Rachel you should be over tomorrow to get ready.

Your hair was up in messy bun and you had sweats on before you left for Sarah and Rachel’s. You bring your large overnight bag out to the front hall, and go up to the loft to say goodbye to Harry.

“Any plans tonight, baby?”

“Yeah, Niall’s comin’ over. Think we’re goin’ to play Madden.”

“Oh great!”

“That’s what you’re wearin’ for your big night out?”

“God no, I’m getting ready with them. Like old times. We pregame a little while doing each other’s hair and make up. We decide on outfits, all that girly stuff.”

“So I don’t even get to see what you’re wearin’ out before you go?” He pouts and puts his hands on your hips as you stand between his legs.

“’Fraid not.” You lean in and kiss his forehead. “I’ll send you a pic though.” You kiss him on the lips. “Have fun with Niall.”

“Have fun with the girls.”

He watches you descend down the stairs. He was very curious to know what you might be wearing. He hoped it wasn’t too sexy since he wouldn’t be there. The thought of a bunch people looking at you didn’t sit right with him, but it was out of his control. He also hated that you wouldn’t be coming back to him tonight. He wanted your drunk cuddles, they were the best.

You drive to Rachel and Sarah’s and hug Sarah and wish her a happy birthday. You all start drinking and get ready. You each take turns posting to your Instagram stories. Giggles and music in the background.

Niall comes over to see Harry, and they both get set up on the sofa.

“How was your date last night?” Harry asks.

“Made her cry tears of joy, finally gave her a key to my place.”

“Good for you mate!” Harry smiles at him. Niall checks his phone and looks at all three of your stories. “What in the fuck was that?”

“Our girls havin’ a grand ol’ time. Look.” Niall shows him Sarah’s story and sees you with your hair half done, curling iron in hand, making a kiss face as Rachel dances behind you. “Like they never stopped livin’ together.” He chuckles.

“Any idea where they’re goin’?”

“Pinz I think.”

“Okay, what am I wearing?” Sarah asks.

“We got you this sash that says ‘birthday bitch’ so you have to wear it.” Rachel giggles.

“Guess that means I should wear my red dress to match, huh?” She snatches it. “What did you bring, Y/N?”

“Oh, just my fav party outfit.” You grin. You take out a skin tight quarter sleeve, olive green, midi dress.

“Ohhh shiiiittt.” Rachel says. “She back in town.”

“For one night only.” You wink.

Sarah puts on a short sleeve red dress that flowed around her thighs. Rachel put on a black pencil skirt and white crop top. You all looked great. None of you wore a bra, purposefully, to just make out all of your piercings. You set up your phone to take a few pictures of the three of you. The three of you were feeling sexy, and you were ready to show Sarah a good time.

“Wait, I told Harry I’d send him a picture.”

“Better send one to Niall too.”

“Okay, line up you heteros.” Rachel says sarcastically. You both stick your tongue out at her.

“Y/N, push your boobs up, really put a show on for him.” She giggles.

“Okay, like this?” You push your boobs up and pout your lips.

“Model! Model vibes!” Sarah screams as she takes a shot of tequila.

“Okay, now turn around and look over your shoulder. Gotta show that booty.” You do as she says.

“He’s gonna kill me.” You laugh.

“Why?”

“Because not only am I not wearing a bra, but I don’t have any panties on either.”

“Well, duh, you can’t with that dress.” Sarah defends you. “Okay, my turn.”

You and Rachel snap pictures of the birthday girl. You both send the pictures to your boyfriends. You take some more silly pictures altogether.

“You know what’s crazy? This is my first birthday without Kate in years…”

“Are you upset we didn’t invite her?” Rachel asks.

“Not really.” She shrugs. “I haven’t really missed her to tell you the truth.”

“Me neither.” You admit. “I miss the old times, but I’ve been less stressed without her in my life.”

“Agreed.” Rachel says. “Uber’s here! Let’s hit it.”

Niall and Harry’s phones go off at the same time. They look at each other and pause their game.

“Jesus.” Harry’s eyes pop out of his head.

“Holy hell.” Niall says looking at the pictures Sarah sent him.

Harry zooms in on the pictures best he can. You looked incredible. He wanted to tear the dress right off you.

“Mate?” Harry says with his mouth hanging open.

“Yeah?”

“She’s not wearin’ any knickers…”

“Doesn’t look like Sarah’s got a bra on either.”

“Same with Y/N…why would they do that?” Harry looks at him panicked. “I mean, look, not even any knickers!” He shoves the phone his face, but Niall pushes it back.

“Do ya really want me lookin’ at her arse?”

“Right, no, I don’t. And I don’t want anyone else to either. Why would she do this t’me?” He whines.

“To remind ya how fuckin’ lucky ya are.” Niall gets up. “Come on, we better break into the liquor instead of just beer tonight.”

“Good idea.”

The three of you get to Pinz, and Sarah is given a free shot and drink of her choice as the bartender sees her sash and ID. You all head to the dance floor once you have your drinks. The music was good tonight, really good. You were all laughing and singing, adding more to your Instagram stories. Niall and Harry couldn’t help but keep refreshing their feeds to see what the three of you were up to.

“They’re havin’ a lot of fun…” Harry says.

“Fuck girl’s nights. We should be allowed to show up.” Niall slurs.

“Even to just roll up and have a shag in the bathroom quick, then I’d be good.”

“Exactly! S’not askin’ too much.” He sighs. “But we can’t. I was told specifically not to show up.”

“Bullshit is what it is.” Harry slurs. How much did they drink?

You go up to the bar to grab the next round of drinks. You bump into someone by accident and apologize.

“Oh, no worries…Y/N?”

“Matt?!” You cross your arms over your chest immediately.

“Hey!”

“Hi, um, how are you?”

“Good! It’s great to see you.”

“Yeah, you too. How are things with school?”

“Good, new semester. Miss working with you all.”

“We miss you too.” You walk up closer to the bar. You lower your hands and flip your hair slightly to get the bartender’s attention.

“Whatya have gorgeous?”

“Three vodka cranberries please.” You push your boobs closer together.

“Got a tab?”

“Nah.”

“Alright, that’ll be ten bucks.”

“But that’s only-“

“Know it’s your friend’s birthday over there.” He winks at you, and you put a ten dollar bill and a couple of singles down on the bar while he makes the drinks. Matt was in awe of you.

“Come here a lot?” You ask him.

“A little yeah. We came here for my birthday like you suggested, so we come out when we can. Guys! This is Y/N!” A few of his friends look at you and their faces flush, they wave hello and you wave back.

“Alright, here ya go.” You hear the bartender say.

“Thanks so much!” You say taking the drinks.

“Get off at two by the way.” You blush and smile at him. “Just a girl’s night, but thanks.” He nods in understanding.

“Well, it was good seeing you. Have fun!” Matt and the bartender watch you walk away.

Rachel and Sarah each take a drink from you. You notice a napkin stuck to yours.

“Oh god!”

“What?” They both ask.

“The bartender gave me his phone number! What should I do? Just throw it out right??”

“Toss it on the floor!” Rachel says. And you do just that. You didn’t want to risk Harry finding anything like that.

The three of you continue to dance and pop your asses to the songs the club was playing. It was a really great time. You each have another round of vodka cranberries, courtesy of Rachel. Harry hadn’t texted you more than a kissy face since you sent him the pictures. You take out your phone and send him a drunk text.

You: having fun w ni?

Harry smirks when he sees it.

Harry: mhm, having fun with the girlies?

You: so much fun!! Miss u

Harry: miss you too baby

You: ur a cutie

Harry had a dopey smile on his face and Niall starts laughing.

“Oi, what’s so fuckin’ funny?”

“You’re so gaga over her.” He shakes his head.

“S’not a bad thing.” He pouts.

“Not at all.”

The three of you laugh and sing and are actually quite annoying in the back of the uber on the way back to Rachel and Sarah’s. The three of you set up camp in the living room with air-mattresses, blankets and pillows. Sarah uses the bathroom first to wash her face and change. You sit down and your head feels heavy. You decide to FaceTime Harry, Rachel sits next to you to get in on it.

“Oh check it out, she’s FaceTimin’ me.” He says to Niall. The two had just started a movie. “Hello?”

“Hey!”

“Hi Harry!”

“Hi girls.”

“Where’s my girl?” Niall pouts.

“Birthday girl got first dibs on the bathroom.” You explain. “Whatcha up to?”

“We just started a movie, love.”

“Ohhhh, fun. We’re gonna do that too, just waiting to wash our faces.”

“How was the bar?”

“So much fun! We danced the whole time.”

“I’ll bet. Any guys try to give yeh their number?” He jokes. Your face and Rachel’s lose all color. You both look at each other and laugh nervously. “Wait, did a guy actually try to give you their number?”

“Um…just the bartender.” Harry’s eyebrows raise. “But I didn’t even realize it! He had put a napkin with our drinks and I noticed it. I threw it right on the ground!”

“Why did he give it to you though?”

“Y/N only paid ten buck for the drinks.” Sarah giggles, sitting down with them, only in a large t-shirt. “Oh, hi Niall!”

“Hey baby!”

“You only had to pay ten dollars for three drinks?”

“Mhm.” Your face grows red. Rachel starts giggling. “Stop, you’re not helping.”

“What did you do? Why’d he discount it?”

“He said he knew it was Sarah’s birthday.” You shrug. You burst out laughing. “And I may have pushed my boobs up.” The other two start laughing.

“Y/N, that’s not fu-“

“You know what, I really need to pee. You know how I am when I really need to pee, Harry. I love you, have a fun rest of your night!” You end the call and get up to use the bathroom.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“You cannot get mad at her, mate.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s drunk, clearly. She doesn’t know what she’s sayin’.”

“She purposefully showed off to get a discounted drinks!”

“Like you’ve never done the same thing.”

“Not while I was datin’ someone…”

“Oh Harry.” Niall shakes his head. “Please don’t make this a big deal. If I was a woman that looked like her, like any of ‘em, I’d do the same thing. Relationship or not. Don’t spoil her fun.”

“M’not.” He sighs. “You wouldn’t be mad if Sarah told you somethin’ like that.”

“It’s her birthday, she can do whatever she wants.” He shrugs.

Niall and Harry pass out on the couch, and they both wake up around three in the morning. Niall leaves and goes back home across the street while Harry sleeps in his bed alone. He imagines how lonely it must’ve been for you while he was away. He sleeps in the middle of the bed so it doesn’t feel so large without you.

You and the girls stay up until nearly five in the morning. You watch old movies and reminisce on your days in school together. You all pass out snuggled up together like old times. Harry woke up around eleven and you still weren’t home. No texts or anything from you. He sighs, and gets up to make some coffee. Just as he’s walking out to the kitchen, only in his boxers, he here’s your footsteps. He stands leaning against the wall of the outside of the kitchen, arms crossed waiting for you to enter.

Your hair was up in a messy bun, your sweat pants were hanging low on your hips, your dress from last night was rolled up to look like a shirt, and you had your sunglasses on. You drop your bag once you get into the living area, and you jump when you see Harry.

“Christ.” You say, pulling your sunglasses up on the top of your head.

“Fun night?”

“Mhm.” He starts chuckling. “What?”

“What are you wearin’?”

“I woke up sweaty and didn’t wanna wear my shirt home, so I put this back on, and these are your sweatpants, so they’re baggy, and I know I look ridiculous okay?” You walk towards him and go into the kitchen. He follows you. “Need coffee.” You go over to the Keurig.

“Do you remember FaceTimin’ me last night?” He asks with his arms still crossed. Yes.

“Vaguely.” You press the button on the machine after putting your favorite mug underneath.

“Do yeh remember sending me those pictures at the beginning of the night?”

“Course I do.” You turn to look at him. “I looked like a fucking stunner.” He looks down and sees your pebbling nipples through the top of your dress. You cross your arms over yourself.

“So happy everyone got to see your nips last night.”

“No one saw anything. It was dark in the club.”

“You didn’t have any knickers on.”

“And how would you know that? Easily could’ve been wearing a thong.”

“Were you?”

“No.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “You can’t wear underwear with this dress, it shows everything.”

“Why would you wear it then?”

“Because I felt like it.” The coffee finishes pouring. You go over to the fridge and grab your creamer, and pour a little in. You bring the mug to your lips and take a small sip. You sigh happily. Harry begins making his own coffee. “Did you and Niall have fun?”

“Yes.” He narrows his eyes at you.

“What?”

“Nothin’.” He takes a sip of his black coffee. “Yeh hungover?”

“No, stomach just feels gross. We drank vodka cranberries all night. Way too much sugar.”

“Need breakie?”

“No.” You giggle. “Thanks, we ate. We had some hash-browns and cheesy eggs, that’s why I’m just getting back now.” You finish up your coffee and put your mug in the sink. You yawn and stretch. “I feel like I need to sleep for like ten years.”

You leave the kitchen and start taking your clothes off as you make your way to the bedroom. You were desperate a shower. But Harry was more desperate for you. You feel him wrap his arms around you from behind. You had only taken your top off.

“You’re still not wearin’ knickers.” He says into your ear.

“Nope.” You press back against him, and you feel him growing hard.

“I missed you last night.” He whispers while nipping at your earlobe. You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your bare chest to his.

“And I bet you missed more seeing me dressed like that?” Your nose brushes against his as he nods. “My poor baby.” You rest your chin on his shoulder as you hug him closer to you. “Let me take a shower, and then I promise I’ll love on you all day.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You kiss him on the cheek and let go of him.

“I can’t shower with you?” He pouts.

“I need to, like, shave and stuff. Just ten minutes, get cozy and wait for me on the bed, okay?”

“Alright.” He sighs like you’ve denied him of the world, and gets on the bed.

You do your thing in the bathroom. You don’t need to wash your hair, so that saves a good chunk of time. Your stomach still feels like shit, but you know it’ll pass. You dry off completely and moisturize your freshly shaven legs. Usually you’re wrapped in a towel, have your robe on, or even have pj’s on after you shower. You and the girls were introduced to tik tok last night, and you kind of want to try the new challenge going around. You just hoped Harry kept his boxers on.

You grab your phone and start the video, showing the audience that you’ve dropped your towel. You open the bathroom door slowly. Harry had an arm behind his head, and the other hand was scrolling through his phone. You giggle as you open the door the rest of the way.

“Hey baby?” He looks over at you, furrowing his brows while he smiles.

“What are you doin’?” He reaches his hands out to you.

“Air drying.”

He gets up off the bed and walks towards you, picking you up, you stop your video and laugh hysterically. He puts you down on the bed, and wonders what’s so funny.

“Were you recordin’ me?”

“I won’t post it if you don’t want me to since you’re like naked.”

“Post it where?”

“Tik tok…”

“Jesus, how old are you?” He chuckles. “Dana and Julia are on that app all the time.”

“It’s actually a lot of fun. The girls and I all downloaded it last night. There’s this challenge going around for couples, so I thought I’d give it a try. Look, watch your face.” You play the video back for him and you both start laughing. “But I won’t post it if you don’t want me to.”

“S’fine, I don’t really care.” He shrugs.

You post the video and add all the hashtags, then put your phone on the night table. You turn over and rest your head on his chest. You drape your leg over his, and he pulls your thigh up closer. He rubs his hand back and forth.

“Ohh, nice and smooth.” He coos. “Not that I really care if you’re hairy.”

“So if I just stopped shaving my legs, you wouldn’t care?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You said it’s for your own comfort right? Do what yeh want. It doesn’t bother me, hair is natural.”

“How progressive of you.” You say facetiously. He looks down at you as he continues to stroke your leg.

Your hand goes up into his hair and he leans in to lightly kiss you. You kiss him back, and you both sink into it. Your mouth opens for him and his tongue slides in tasting you until your tongue meets his. You both let out soft moans. One of his hands is cupping the back of your head, the other leaves your thigh and moves up to your breast, kneading it.

You pull him on top of you, and you feel his hard cock press against your hip, as your kiss deepens even more. It wasn’t often the two of you just made out. You always really liked kissing, to have someone’s lips on yours. Harry had soft lips, always. He was good at pressing them hard against yours, always making yours puffy and swollen after. You loved the shade of his lips too, especially after kissing. They would become this raspberry color. It made you want to bite onto them even more.

Subconsciously that’s what you do. You bite his bottom lip and suck it into your mouth. He groans and grinds himself against your hip. You let go of his lip slowly, really making a show of it as you open your eyes to look up at him.

“Want you.” He says in a whisper.

“Take me.” You whisper back.

He groans again kissing you quick before tugging his boxers down his legs, and tossing them to the floor. He hovers back over you, and you put your hands on his shoulders. One of his hands reaches between your legs to make sure you’re wet. Of course you are. It doesn’t take much with him. He smirks as you spread apart for him. He lines himself up and he slowly pushes inside. You both moan at the initial contact.

Once he’s all the way in, he stays there for a moment, just savoring how your velvety walls feel around him. You tighten out of instinct, and loosen up letting him know he can move. He slowly starts to rock his hips against yours. Your head falls back against the pillow.

“Y’like that?”

“Yes.” You say with your eyes rolling back into your head.

He keeps up the same motion, just rocking in and out of you, his tip hitting your g-spot already. He picks up the pace only a little to give himself some of the friction he’s been craving, but he slows it back down for you because he knows that’s how you like it. One of his hands drops back down to rub slow, but purposeful circles on your clit.

“Ngh, Harry.” You moan softly.

One of your hands moves from his shoulder to the grasp at the hair on the nape of neck. He drops his head to the crook of your neck, kissing you softly. Your breathing was getting heavier. He could feel you starting to tighten against him in preparation for your orgasm.

“Gonna come f’me, angel?” You moan at his words, your eyes fluttering closed. “Go on, I know you can do it. Come all around my cock.” He nips at your neck, and your heels dig into the backs of his thighs.

You let out a large moan of his name, tears pricking at your eyes, and he feels you pulsate around him. He fucks you through it, not letting up on your g-spot or clit. You come really hard, and the sound in the room fills with squelching and skin slapping against skin.

“Gimme another one, come on, let’s see how many we can go for.” Your eyes pop open. You realize he still hadn’t let up on you. You start panting again.

“Harry.” You groan. It was too much. You were so sensitive.

“Don’t hold back baby, just relax. Don’t fight it.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” The way he was talking to you was sending you to another dimension. You release around him again and he groans against you, loving the way it feels.

He leans up a bit and looks down at you with a wicked grin.

“What?” You say trying to catch your breath.

“Can I hit it from the side, love?” Your eyes grow dark with lust and you nod.

He helps you turn your body with him still inside you. One of your legs going up over his shoulders, and the other staying between his own legs. He rocks into you and your back arches immediately.

“Feel good?” He smirks.

“So good.” You clutch at the blankets as he continues to rock in and out of you. “Fuck, Harry.” You grit your teeth. You reach down to rub your swollen clit.

“Jesus.” He moans watching you touch yourself.

“Harry, I…I want you back on top of me, wanna feel your weight on me, please.”

“Anything you want, angel.”

He pulls out of you only for a moment to let you adjust. Both of his eyebrows raise as he watches you flip onto your stomach. You look back at him over your shoulder.

“Go on, I’m okay. Want it this way. Just get fully on top of me. You’ve done it before.”

“Okay…but…if-“

“I promise I’ll tell if you if I’m scared.” You wiggle your butt back at him to let you know you’re getting impatient.

He uses his thumbs to spread you apart, and he lines himself up to enter you again. You feel his chest flush to your back, and he rocks into you slowly. You raise your hips slightly to slip your hand underneath yourself to rub your clit. Harry grabs your other hand with his, and you intertwine. That’s that good shit, you think to yourself. Your hands rest together by your head.

He’s getting in so deep this way, and the way he’s squeezing one of your hips just feels so good. You rub yourself a little faster, and you feel another orgasm coming on. He can feel it coming too.

“That’s it baby, come f’me again.” That was all he needed to say to make your release come. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” You pulse and vibrate around his cock. You wonder how much longer he’ll last.

You both have a pretty decent rhythm going. You push yourself back against him, and his hand moves from your hip to your ass. You squeeze tighter on the hand that’s intertwined with yours. He kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders. You arch up into him.

“I love you, Harry.” You groan.

“I love you too, so fuckin’ much. Wanna be able to look at yeh, can we do that?”

“Yes.”

He pulls out so you can flip back over. You grab back at his hand so you can continue to hold onto it. He knows you really like this. His other hand slides up your torso, feeling every inch of your smooth skin. His hand rest gently on your throat, he doesn’t even tighten around you, he just wants it there. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you. He thrusts in deep and stay there so you can grind against him.

“Harry.” You moan. You were overly sensitive at this point, but he was so rock hard inside you, it felt amazing.

“C’mon baby, show me how you do it.”

You nails from your free hand dig into his bicep as your fourth release comes out in waves.

“Shit! Fuck!” You scream. You were completely drenched in sweat now. You felt like you were going to need another shower. “Harry, please.”

“Not done with yeh yet, my love.” You look up at him. What the hell was he trying to do to you? He kisses you hard as he moves his hips in circles.

“Mother of fuck!” You gasp.

“Yeah, you like it when I do that, huh?” You nod your head yes as he continues you stretching you out like this.

You’re down for the count when you feel your legs start to shake again and your back arches fully off the bed. He smirks watching your body writhe underneath him.

“Harry.” You breathe. “It’s too much.”

“Want me to come now?”

“Yes, please. Fill me up.”

He grins at you and squeezes tightly on your hand as he thrusts in and out of you. It doesn’t take much for him to come. The warmth from it all feels incredible. He pulls out once he’s done, and collapses next to you. Your mouth hangs open as you look at him. Your legs felt like jello. It was some intense love making to say the least.

“What was that all about?” You say, reaching for him. He lays his head on your chest.

“Just something maybe you’ll keep in the back of your head next time you flirt with some bartender to get free drinks.” He looks up at you with a smirk, and your jaw drops farther.

Oh he was good, really good. He was telling the truth when he said he missed you. But he didn’t want to make you come over and over just because you both were in a lovey mood. No, he wanted to teach you a lesson. To remind you he was always there, no matter what. That he was the only one worth giving the time of day to. That he was the only one that was ever going to make you feel this way. Well played Mr. Styles, well played.

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles fic #ahhhhh #come hang in my ask box to chat cause i dont feel like doing hw #i loved this chapter sm idk why #yes i do

277 notes · View notes

hauntinghilarity · 5 years

Text

(FICTION) The Cosmic Lord, Joelene

First off, I didn't realize I misspelled the name until I looked up what outfits Dolly wore while singing this song. Given I kept referencing lyrics in order to write the parody song... i don't know how that happened either.

Anyway, I had often had the urge to make a song that implied Jolene from Dolly Parton's song was an Eldritch horror ever since I saw a post somewhere on the internet (likely on Reddit in the tumblr subreddit, leading to my confusing uncertainty) that suggested doing just that. It had been in my mind ever since.

So, upon finally doing that... I just felt it wasn't enough to just have the lyrics. Especially as I just rewrote lyrics that already existed. No, no a PARTICULAR damn muse decided that this was not enough. This particular muse had to be brought into the party!

So here is Doc and the woman I made up to sing the song sealing some Cosmic Lord that Doc decided to name Jolene because its horrible, mouth splitting name couldn't otherwise be turned into a song that he could force a human haunted by the said creature to sing. Possibly purely for his own amusement.

Enjoy, I'll add the lyrics alone at the end for those interested.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A hut deep in the middle of the swamps was certainly not where the average problem was solved, this was far from the average problem. Iris had, apparently, found herself in a cosmic love triangle. Not that it could be called that, her husband very clearly was just not that into her. This cosmic entity did not, apparently, take well to rejection.

A unique and maddening plight, Iris had never been one to back down so easily. She wouldn’t have gotten anywhere with that behavior, and her grandparents had taught her act in a far more civilized manner in such trying times. It was the only way to get anything done in these types of situations, especially the situations that one believed to be unique.

Lucky for her, while a strange case, it was not as unique as she believe. Similar instances seemed to be sprinkled through history. Easy to miss or shrug off as the superstition and legends of their more imaginative ancestors. Given the distressing nature of her comatose-yet-deliriously-screaming husband, she was forced to do her best to connect some dots.

To her delight, there seemed to be plenty of more in-depth entries on this and a number of other creatures sprinkled throughout different books she decided to look into. What one might find suspicious, should they not feel the time-ticking on the safety of their loved one, is that a number seemed to have been inserted. A modern book full of laminated pages did not often have a piece of parchment, with the script clearly having been handwritten, fused to the spine as if it had been manufactured in such a manner.

A desperate mind seeking desperate knowledge did not often have the perception to notice these details when time was an issue. Stress had a matter of forcing tunnel vision of even the most powerful of minds. Especially when, regardless of its origin, the details these entries gave her made far more sense compared to the superstition-laden legends she had previously been finding.

She did become rather disturbed when a note was clearly left for her. Just like the rest, it was implanted in the book in such a way that tearing it out would be noticeable, both visually and audibly.

‘Iris, yes YOU Iris,

‘This is getting rather tiresome, and you are reading plenty of notes that have been written for different eyes. This would be far less of an annoyance if you bothered to put the books back where they had been placed. Do you know how long it took for me to understand a dewey decimal system?

‘You meat-bodies have ENOUGh languages that are troublesome enough to learn. Maddening book math is not what I was signing up for. If I had signed up for anything.

‘The book YOU are, or were, supposed to read on your problem you just.. Kept avoiding. Now it is checked out, and I have to write ANOTHER one of these because my attempts to do this subtly and properly got thrown out of whack trying to understand the aforementioned book-math.

‘So, to save us on time and to get something out of this headache that highly benefits the both of us, reading to this point will have given you a sudden feeling.

‘Please do not fret over this. Merely some ink-based shenanigans. Nothing that’ll harm you, it merely saves me placing a map. It will lead you directly to me.

‘That is, if you want to get a particular cosmic parasite yanked from your husband’s dreams.’

Signed, much like the other letters, Doc Boots.

Iris wasn’t entirely certain what part of this bothered her more. The fact it was clearly, and pointedly, directed to her. The fact she was called a meat-body, or that fact that she DID have a very strong desire to take a walk down a particular path found on a particular street that would have her in a particular neck of the woods taking her into a peculiar neck of a swamp that had her find a particular hut.

Many would probably find coming to such a hut in the first place foolhardy, let alone irrational. Irrational problems required irrational solutions. This was far better than the option she was beginning to feel was the best, which involved finding books on Necromancy, deciding if Necromancy worked or not, and using this knowledge to bring a particular horror writer back from the dead to answer a series of pointed questions. This somehow seemed the better deal. If anything, the letter writer could deal with all this morally-gray-supernatural-foolishness.

Regardless, nothing could quite prepare her for what awaited her within the hut that the same odd feeling that lead her here told her was her destination.

The entirety of the inside seemed to be dedicated to the alignment of a single ritual sigil. A dizzying series of circular and fractal designs that weaved throughout the central floor of the hut. Various areas of the floor were raised or lowered with delicate precision to conform to the different areas of the sigil.

Dizzying as it might be, Iris could come to understand that there was a circular, flat area in the center of the entire design where every edge, curve, and rune converged on. The design was covered in runes and symbols that conformed to the shape like an artist obsessed with point-shading. A number of platforms, that took on a shape that vaguely made her note a solar system before all the strange details continued to keep her mind reeling, were raised and held a number of bundled objects. Given the darkened liquids of varying colors, though equally metallic smelling, she was certain she was comfortable being left in the dark.

Strangest of all, the structure was encircled by a number of... Vegetables. While the same size and shape of the numerous vegetables each individual entity made up, stubby stems sprouted from them in order to form the vague shape of limbs. Sunken pits in the shape of spiraling stems formed where they stared out into the world, and sharp cuts where their mouths opened.

The creatures swayed and bounced to a harmony they kept. Strange noises based on the vegetable they were grown from making up a unique melody. One she found oddly familiar. The gourds, such as the pumpkins and squashes, made up a range of deeper breathy tones while the smaller, stalk-like vegetables made increasingly higher pitches.

She was so taken aback by every eldritch detail she had to accept within the hut that it took her a moment to realize that she wasn’t alone, besides the strange sentient vegetables. An androgynous creature that, at first glance, was easily mistaken for a humanoid. The more she focused on him and more her mind allowed her to process, the more she began to second guess her decision. Especially thanks to the petals encircling one of the creature’s equally strange looking eyes.

Not so much out of fear, with her history Iris had become rather hard to spook. She was beginning to feel, at this point, that the supernatural shenanigans she had so rigidly attempted to avoid belief in, less out of a stubborn grip on pure material-sciences and more due to a brief understanding on the power belief held in such beings, were now becoming so… Silly in their abrupt in-your-face hijinks that it had long since plummeted past the point of ridiculousness and was spinning annoyingly around the pit that would send it going down to rock bottom.

Then the notable eye slid from the creature’s orbital cavity, connected by a series of spindly stems that spiraled into a rope that connected from the end of what turned out to be an actual flower and disappeared into the orbital cavity of the creature’s vine-infested skull. The eye that took the space that would normally hold the flowers pistil was intently focused on her, the vine connecting it to the creature’s eye extending outward. ‘Zooming’ in on her features while the other eye seemed to be keeping stock of what seemed to be his odd minions.

“Good. ‘ere I thought I’d been keepin’ de veggie cult practicing for an eternity. Ya meat-bodied creatures just neva’ seem capable on keepin’ a reasonable schedule dese millenia. Makes de plots I bake ta keep de balance HIGHLY difficult. I ‘ope ya know de ‘eadaches I take on ta keep ya bumbling evolved-baboons from killin’ yaselfs. Equally so de fumblin’ evolved-fools that make up what I think are my kind…” The strange creature piped up suddenly.

Iris had a bit of trouble following the creature’s words for a number of reasons. For one, the movement in the creature’s throat was highly distracting. Not only did it alert her to the slithering that seemed to happen under the creature’s skin with every movement, she was becoming increasingly aware that the vines seemed less like a strange quirk and more like an invader. One that was intent on talking to her.

She really hated fire-with-fire situations.

The second problem was that the creature’s voice was mildly off-putting. It snapped between sounding feminine and higher, to a raspy deep tone somewhere between a dying male smoker and a newborn banshee. The latter snapping briefly like the static of a rapidly tuning radio as the slithering vines beneath the creature’s skin worked to play and tune the creature’s larynx, vocal chords, and neck muscles in a complex dance it clearly only somewhat understood. It did not help it seemed to insist on trying its best to put on its best attempt at a Cajun Accent. She had to admit, it helped make the creature’s tone sound more melodic rather than like nails on a chalkboard run through autotune.

The final problem was the creature spoke at an annoyingly excited speed, which made it very hard to tell if the creature was complaining like he was being underpaid for a difficult service or impatient in his excitement to perform whatever service seemed to be on offer.

She finally had to hold up her hands in the hopes it would calm him a moment to interject. To her surprise and delight, he quieted immediately and seemed to be forcing himself to patiently wait for her to speak. She had a small suspicion as to what sort of creature she was dealing with. Her grandparents always told her that, in the case she was suspicious of, it was best to be polite. One catches more pixies with honey than vinegar, or whatever ‘nanaism’ it was.

“Not to disrespect the time and effort you clearly put into getting in touch with me…” Iris relaxed somewhat. The creature seemed to perk up when she spoke to him politely, it seemed it wasn’t the first impression he normally got. Strange as the situation seemed, it seem the perfect amount of lunacy to help her with the dream-whore currently lurking in her comatose husband’s mind. “What is it I may or may not be on time for?”

The flower extending from the creature’s eyesocket perked up a bit, as if it had been startled into remembering what it had been doing, before swiveling to look at the strange ritual that seemed to be waiting for her in the center of the hut.

“Right, right, dis. Well, long story short, I became aware of ya plight. Well, ta be honest, I became aware of de PREVIOUS couple’s plight. A hint too late, sadly. Life’s not to focus on our failures though, merely learn from dem. Dis gave me a startin’ point. It ‘as been a lil bit, but ya seem ta be de latest one bein’ bothered by dis particular problem. De stars merely aligned so dat I can assist. Merely assist thought. I can put all de pieces inta place. It is up ta you ta do de rest.” The previously annoyed sounding tone had been replaced with a far more excited, and somehow quicker, one.

The creature held out a rolled up piece of parchment, giggling to himself as he did. “As ya meat-bodied types seem ta ‘ave trouble wit’ de name dat rings ta mind for m’self, probably would ‘ave issues if anyone understanding dat type’a magic anyway, I been introducin’ myself as Doc Boots. A scholar, but goin’ by ya kind’s stories, I guess ya could call me a witch doctor? What some’a de ones I’d consider colleagues bein’ called. Dat’s besides de point. Dat.”

Doc pointed towards the parchment he had forced into Iris’ hand.

“Dat explains your part. As ya see, I been preparin’ for ya showin’ up. Just got de Veggie cult tuned.” He gestured to the group of sentient, singing, swaying vegetables.

As Iris eyed the scroll she was given, she had a sinking feeling. She recognized what tune the cult was singing. Something the freaky flower seemed to have noticed.

“Oh, good, ya familiar wit’ de song. It required some rewrites, but given de last one who got taken by dis problem it seemed de most fitting. Gotta honor a failed patient afta’ all.” Doc said with a simple, sweet smile. Even as Iris glared daggers at him.

“No, you are clearly messing with me. There is NO way this will work.” Iris protested. She didn’t consider herself much a karaoke singer. Nor a fan of parody, yet apparently, here she was. This could not be real, this had vto be an elaborate prank her husband had set in motion. He always talked about starting up a couple-prank youtube. Denial was hopeful in believing maybe, just maybe, Doc was just and elaborate costume.

Sadly, the creature followed her protested with a good point. “What about dis situation leads ya ta doubt me? Look at me. Would ya truly believe my concept’a a joke involves ya simply singin’ a song ta seal away a cosmic deity I may or may not have drawn de attention of?”

Iris narrowed her eyes. “Not until ya gave too many details.”

Before she could protest further, she found herself standing in the middle of the sigil. The creature returned to the outside of the sigil opposite of her. His hand being placed on a rune carved skull in front of him, placed on the outer ring of the sigil leaving Doc standing just outside of it. “Regardless of who did what, de point’a de matter is what do ya got ta lose from singin’ a song, when de certainty of not singin’ it is some cosmic boogun is gonna use ‘is soul ta decorate ‘er growing pocket dimension?”

Iris stared a moment, then looked at the paper. “Is that why this lyric here is..”

The freaky flower stomped the bundle of vegetable that had long since replaced his host’s foot. “Ya not ‘ere because I needed critique on my song lyrics! I personally think I did q-REGARDLESS of the origins of lyrics, ya must sing it wit’ conviction. Sing it wit’ anger and a need ta fight.”

Opening her mouth once more, Doc seemed to know immediately it wasn’t to sing. His hand snapped up, and with a snap of his fingers, a purplish green glow shot through the runes on the ground, lighting up any that the ‘pulse’ that radiated from the creature ran into on its way to the woman in the center.

Before she could react, the pulse interacted with her. She didn’t even have to look down. She knew in her gut and the immediate clear smart-ass nature of the creature she had to deal with what fate had been forced on her.

She found herself in a familiar white suit befitting a well-known country singer, with an elegant design created from what she assumed to be diamonds. It was magically created, it had to be diamonds. It had not been elegantly enchanted onto her. Instead of replacing her outfit, going by the bunched fabric of the outfit she had been wearing poofing from the open chest of the jacket. The creature had just shoved her into her and called it a day. As she lifted her head to protested, she was quieted by the fact the outfit included a well-secured wig. Going by how it shifted, she was certain she probably now looked like the singer of the song the ritual was clearly based off of.

Giving a deep sigh, her shoulders dropping, she figured she might as well. If anything, this entire damn experience had distracted her from her problems at hand. The vine riddled being would at least be useful to fling at a cosmic beast should all else fail.

“Should match de beat fairly well. De one writin’ it was mildly under duress. As I popped outta nowhere and demanded it. I always forget I need ta lead wit’ de money ‘n riches first. Otha’wise, for whateva’ reason, ya meat bodies just think Imma rob ya. If I am what I think I am, de place dat I draw power from wouldn’ take too kindly ta me stiffin’ someone on a deal. Especially not an artist. Now! De outfit should ‘elp inspire ya. Didn’ shove ya in it purely for shits ‘n giggles. As de beat starts, just get goin’ and ya should be fine.” The flower did its best to console her.

“De veggie cult is doin’ de work’a dancin’ ta keep de fabric’a reality around ya secure enough. Just keep singin’, me ‘n de sigil I built will do de work’a keepin’ ya protected. Oh, and before ya ask, no. De thing’s name ain’ exactly Joelene. Ain’ even spelled like de song, but I was able to put some loopholes inta de belief and understandin’ of de writer. None of us could pronounce it, and it’d make a rather poor song anyway. Luckily, de previous couple was rather obsessed wit’ de song ‘n de boogun decided ta roll wit’ dat. Dey really must learn ta stop leavin’ lil loop’oles. My kind’s king’a dem!” Doc giggled wildly and gestured to the singing vegetables.

The ‘cult’ of vegetables surrounding her stopped for a moment, before restarting the beat they had been practicing. Iris gave a heavy sigh and, otherwise without options, began to sing.

“Joelene, Joelene, Joelene, Joelene,

Invoke thy name because you took my man.

Joelene, Joelene, Joelene, Joelene,

You won’t take him just because you can. “

To her surprise, as she began to sing the walls of the hut, illuminated by strategically placed candles, cast shadows that made it appear as if a group were dancing around them, based on how everything had been lined up. The flicker of the candle and sway of the cult must have been the cause.

From the back of her mind she felt an odd tug. The world at the end of her perception flickered and swayed like the illusion cast by heated air. She did her best to cast her concern and sing with conviction, with strength. Her dearest depended on it, and she would be damned if her husband would be taken by something Lovecraft should have vomited out.

“A form humans can’t come to bare,

With captured souls turned into hair,

Eldritch Skin,

And eyes countless,

it seems…”

She could have sworn she felt something behind her. At that very moment, Doc slammed his vegetation laden foot onto the beginning to the sigil’s runic circle. A more concentrated and steady glow, like before, began to spread throughout the sigil. As it made contact with each pedestal, the runes scribbled over the cloth covering the bundle would glow bright enough to cover the object in its blinding light, before bursting into a sea of glowing balls.

These wisps of light buzzed around the circle, and they seemed to be collecting behind her. Iris held back a flinch, as she swore she could sense something screaming. She did not know how to describe it, as the only noise she heard was crafted for the ritual. The screaming, however, felt like it was radiating from her very subconscious. Like it was somehow coming from somewhere far, far away and only its faintest echoes could be felt behind her.

Somehow, this replaced her uncertainty with hope. She began to sing with more confidence. The concern replaced by the fire of her rage, which she pumped into the words. It seemed to have an effect, as the glowing runes at her feet added an orange hue to the show of color which rippled out to the remaining runes.

“Your smile cracks across their dreams,

Your Presence warps reality,

And yet here I stand against you,

Joelene.”

Bit by bit the offerings were consumed. Her vision warped in lines around the sigil. Something her mind refused to admit was surrounding her was moving in rapid, frantic trails. The screaming, she felt in her gut, was originating from this strange anomaly in her vision. This must be the beast that was tormenting her husband. This had to be her prey.

“You’ve come to take him in his sleep,

But there’s nothing I can do to keep,

From trying, as he screams your name,

Jolene.

From what I’ve come to understand,

You’ve stolen the souls of countless men,

To shape your own destiny,

Joelene.“

As the anomaly continued to frantically flail through her vision, she felt there was power in the anger she had begun to harbor for this creature. The despair and trauma her relationship had undergone due to this horror, she felt, could be pumped into her words in order to give them more power.

As all the runes that covered the sigil found their glow and all the offerings had begun to consume, the area directly beneath the rapidly moving anomaly gained a brighter glow, tracking and following it as the light pulsed towards the skull Doc held, his mouth moving rapidly in a quiet chant.

“You forced my little talk with you,

This song I sing will capture you,

Not matter what you try to do,

Joelene.

Joelene, Joelene, Joelene, Joelene,

The cosmic lord that tried to take my man,

Joelene, Joelene, Joelene, Joelene,

Sealed away, she won’t try that again."

Doc joined her, backing up the repetition of the name they had forced upon the entity. The blurring anomaly in her vision was forced into the glow beneath it. The sigil, glow, and runes slid rapidly beneath her, encircling the glowing bundle she assumed was the newly captured ‘Joelene’.

"Joelene, Joelene."

The final runes that lead to the skull seemed to be sucked into the upper jaw of the skull. The entire strange scene finally got sucked into the skull, which kept an ethereal glow in its sockets and runes, but otherwise, held no clues towards what the entity with in was. It seemed to have even sucked up the outfit and wig that had been forced on her.

Doc picked up the skull, beaming in delight. “Well, should I be correct on our timin’, ya husband shouldn’ ‘ave been so deep in ‘er clutches dat dat would’a caused ‘im de slightest bit’a ‘arm. Should be makin’ ‘is way back ta ‘is body through de dreamlands as we speak! Might not be awake when ya get dere, but will be soon enough.”

Now clearly preoccupied with the skull in his hand, the strange creature gestured to the door. Clearly indicating it was time for her to make her leave. “De contents of dis skull is all de payment I need. No need ta concern ya’self otha’wise. De danger dat could ‘ave befallen you or your husband and my choice ta withhold dat knowledge from ya until now will be considered enough payment.”

Iris was rather overwhelmed. She wasn’t even certain she was even living out this experience and not dreaming of it in a fury of sleep deprivation. She couldn’t quite feel any relief. In fact, she felt rather numb. She was rather certain, thanks to the lunacy of this entire event, she would find herself waking with a start huddled in her husband’s hospital room.

The vegetables began to force a line and hop, one by one, into the mouth of a pumpkin whose mouth had opened wide enough to accommodate them. She could swear that, instead of the inside of a pumpkin, she saw a strange and horrifying orange world filled with the strange, sentient vegetables. Maybe she would prefer it be a dream after all.

Shaking this belief and concern off, Iris quickly took the opening given to her and immediately fled from the hut and the swamp it was in, content to be back with her beloved and as far from this lunacy as possible.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joelene, Joelene, Joelene, Joelene,

Invoke thy name because you took my man.

Joelene, Joelene, Joelene, Joelene,

You won’t take him just because you can.

A form humans can’t come to bare,

With captured souls turned into hair,

Eldritch Skin,

And eyes countless,

it seems…

Your smile cracks across their dreams,

Your Presence warps reality,

And yet here I stand against you,

Joelene.

You’ve come to take him in his sleep,

But there’s nothing I can do to keep,

From trying, as he screams your name,

Jolene.

From what I’ve come to understand,

You’ve stolen the souls of countless men,

To shape your own destiny,

Joelene.

Joelene, Joelene, Joelene, Joelene,

You made a poor choice trying to take my man,

Joelene, Joelene, Joelene, Joelene,

You won’t take him just because you can.

You could have had your choice of man,

But then you came into my den,

You can not keep him from me,

Joelene.

You forced my little talk with you,

This song I sing will capture you,

Not matter what you try to do,

Joelene.

Joelene, Joelene, Joelene, Joelene,

The cosmic lord that tried to take my man,

Joelene, Joelene, Joelene, Joelene,

Sealed away, she won’t try that again.

Joelene. Joelene.

#fiction #country #music #lyrics #short story #humor #horror #doc boots #fae #lovecraft #lovecraftian

2 notes · View notes

luvsavos · 6 years

Text

Probably gonna rewrite this but my mortal kombat oc's backstory woosh

It had been a bumpy ride for her.

She had a quite troubled past, shadowed with cold deeds and shifty business, along with self-doubt, questioning, and selfishness. Who was she, really?

Did she serve some larger purpose, or was her entire purpose only to serve as a bounty hunter, living secluded in the woods, maddened by solitude, finding and killing when asked as long as she was paid? Lureing unknowing passerby from the safe paths of the woods, in the form of a beautiful doe, only to pounce on them as a ravenous cat, panther, perhaps, and rip the flesh from them?

To many she was a god-like entitiy; a demon of the woods to be avoided. Though she attacked most all who walked on the paths, there was a certain offering system she created to signal that a bounty was wanted to be completed. It involved the 'employer' cutting their artery (the one in the crook of their elbow) and letting the blood dribble over a gemstone they would bring (any would work, though if it was a very expensive gemstone--say, a Ruby for example--you would have better luck winning her favour. She seemed to have a sixth sense to tell how valuable it was. If she didn't arrive within five minutes, it was a no-go, and if you didn't quickly leave, taking everything with you, gem and all, she would kill you. She wasn't easy to please), and then set it on a seemingly ancient altar made of jade, with moss growing about it. Her service was not cheap, but was a very swift and effective method, as well as brutal. Unless specified to not, she would mutilate the victim in the harshest way possible and leave behind a symbol that she had been there--three claw marks side by side and then a circle around them, which was usually clawed into the wood of the wall.

And then she met Scorpion. She had heard some about the Shiri-ryu, but not much; including that they had been completely wiped out. Unknowing who the spectre was, she lured him from the path as she would with any person, though when she tried to attack him, he was, to her surprise, able to subdue her with ease. Within minutes of the skirmish starting, it was she who was pinned, a blade to her neck and the man's blazing gold-white eyes glaring at her.

She had pleaded for her life, for she had never faced someone strong as he, and did not think death would come so close to her. For, as far as she was concerned, to the travelers, she /was/ death. Never did she believe that the roles would be reversed as such they were.

Reluctantly, the man gave into her pleading, removing the blade from her neck, but shoving her back, sending her stumbling to the ground. And she had simply laid there, heart besting fast, like a scared rabbit cornered by its predator. The pair watched each-other with cruel contempt, and finally the female worked up the courage to ask him who he was; she was now curious.

"¿Q-quehen estas?" She had asked, fegining that she knew no English.

He hadn't responded, and so she made to ask what he was coming through for, but it was as if he could read her very mind.

"I seek the murderer of my family and clan."

His voice was not human; it was much too echo-y, and that was when she realized she was dealing with a revanant.

"¿Quehen-?"

"His name is Sub-Zero."

She knew the man well; Bi-Han was his name, and he often came with his brother seeking help when enemies were much too prepared for the two of them to handle.

He never trusted her much, despite the fact that the pair of them would actually make small talk. She usually didn't do that with customers. She and Tundra were well enough off, too, but she was quite willing to kill one or both of them for a gemstone or two.

She told the man, who stated plainly that he needed no-one, that she knew the man as well as his brother. But, being a cold-hearted shifter, she added with a cool, dark smirk and a flash of her catlike eyes that seemed to even intimidate the man who called himself Scorpion, "But if you need nobody, perhaps we shall both be on our separate paths, ¿sí? You, on your warpath of vengeance and rage, and me, to my satisfaction of bloodlust and senseless murder."

The man had her pinned to a tree within an instant, the blade to her neck again, asking her--commanding her--to tell him where the man was. She only smirked at him, responding with a sly, "I could simply accompany you and show you. For a gemstone or two, of course."

This seemed to anger the man more, and her smirk widened. She had him under her claws.

"Or, a simple blood offering."

Grumbling, the man withdrew and gave her a dark glare, asking where from. She responded casually by telling him that the artery on his arm would work, and without flinching, he slit it and let the blood dribble freely, pulsing with each heartbeat. He seemed to cringe when the female cupped her hands under his arm, a few inches away, and greedily drank what fell into her hands, until she had her fill.

When she drew away, the man began bandaging it; something that the female found amusing for an odd, sadistic reason.

He had told her--commanded her--to sleep, and that by morning he would have something fit for her (the outfit she was wearing; a crude outfit made of leaves, twigs, and animal hides, would not be fit for the battles they would fight), and that they would leave.

As they traveled, she found herself growing fond of the male and his grumpy, angry ways, and she would shift into an owl often and `visit` Bi-Han and Kuai to check on them, then report back to Scorpion.

It was not easy for her; she had never been around other people for so long, and finding herself growing friendly to them was a very unfamiliar feeling, and it scared her. Especially when she began to grow friendly to the cryomancer assassins that she was literally leading their death to.

After Bi-Han died--after he was killed--she went back to her woods, and she secluded herself.

Some time later, by chance, she met Reptile, and the two became friends; they both were misunderstood, and some of the last of their species (or, in Reptile's case, the very last).

By some twist of fate, while traversing Earthrealm in the form of a beautiful young Spanish girl with red hair (her natural form, one that none had seen besides Scorpion) many years later, she came across the Lin Kuei assassin--Kuai Liang. He wore not the clothes that he wore as Tundra, but the clothes that his brother wore as Sub-Zero, and he called himself by much the same. It was a cold feeling of regret; she had bettered herself over the years--she was no more the self-concerned murderer that led Bi-Han's death to him years ago, and when she saw just how much grief was overcoming the man who had been left alive, it hurt.

She had taken it upon herself to try and help him, and the pair became quite close friends. Through her travels, she also came upon Scorpion once more, and became closer to him as well.

Eventually, she and Scorpion began dating, only for a short while before breaking up; it was never true love, it was more of her way of helping him cope with the weight of having lost his whole family. Some time after they broke up, Kuai confessed to her that he loved her (it was almost in a guilty tone) and the two of them began dating. They dated for nearly two years before she ever revealed to him that she led Scorpion to Bi-Han.

To her surprise, he was not even angry at her.

Later on, she, along with Kuai, became revanants, though they were freed along with Scorpion by Raiden. She and Kuai by then had been married for about a year, and soon after being released from revanancy, Kuai found the truth of the massacre of the Shiri-ryu. He shared this with Hanzo Hasashi, and the pair, much to her delight, put aside their differences, in a friendship.

She fought against Outworld's invasions on Earthrealm, despite being from Outworld, and over the years had changed from a coarse, murderous bounty hunter with no respect and no care for anyone but herself, appearance overshadowed by dirt, blood, and scars, to a woman who would gladly put others before herself, and knowing that violence was not always the answer, who was beautiful in every aspect. Cool and calculating, she no longer sought the death of those who crossed her, and no longer hid behind shadows of names whispered about, and though she went by a codename, Imperium, like her friends Reptile, Scorpion, and Sub-Zero did, she was not ashamed nor afraid to speak what her true name was: she was Leah Rayne Liang, wife to Kuai Liang and one of the defenders of Earthrealm.

She glanced over, smiling at the man beside her whose hair was raven black, her own red, silky hair gently whipping about her face, but not obscuring her pale green eyes that were more catlike than humanoid. The man's gaze was fixed on the horizon, pale blue, nearly white eyes scanning it for any potential threats. Upon finding none, he glanced back at his wife and smiled a rare, true smile.

"No threats from anywhere, then, mi amor?" She asked in a voice that was cold with scars from the past, but beautiful nonetheless, a gentle Spanish accent wreathing her words. The man nodded. "None," he responded in his soft, dark voice. This caused the woman to smile. Ah, good. She glanced back at the Frost Dragon behind her, who had its head laid down in the snow, eyes half-lidded. Blizzard was her name. She was the woman's mount, and quite frankly, her friend. Like any dragon, she was highly intelligent, with the gift of tongues, the ability to breathe frost as a flame dragon breathes fire, the ability to freeze herself or other things, like a cryomancer, and even teleportation to a degree.

Next to her was her mate--Cobalt. Cobalt was the woman's husband's dragon, and he had the same talent as his mate did.

The shifter looked back out at the snow-flaked sky. A small smile painted her face; another battle won. Outworlders might spit curses at her and call her a traitor, but she minded not. She was with the people she loved.

"Kuai, do you think they'll attack us once again?" She asked, looking over at the man she loved. He glanced at her, and gave her a soft, reassuring smile. "If they do, Leah... They'll have to answer to the Lin Kuei."

This caused a smile to break out on the woman's face. A stupid but adorable one; why it filled her with joy she didn't know. Perhaps it was the thrill of battle once more, and doing it at her husband's side.

"Indeed.... Indeed they will," she agreed softly, looking back out at the great span of white.

A serene moment of silence fell, and Leah moved closer to Kuai, leaning against him in a tender, loving manner.

"I'm cold," she whispered, voice barely audible over even the soft, chilly winds, "so warm me, love."

This graced a faint smile on the cryomancer's features as he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

Blizzard, behind them, gave a soft snort of air and muttered something indistinct that sounded suspiciously like "You're not cold; you just want to be near him."

Leah shot her a glance, but only smiled placidly and kissed Kuai's cold, yet smooth cheek, just above his beard.

This seemed to make the man of ice happy, and he let out a small, content sigh.

"Oh, spare us from the romance," snorted Cobalt softly.

Leah rolled her eyes, resting her head on Kuai's shoulder, half-lidding her eyes. The cryomancer gently rubbed his hand up and down her side in a slow, loving manner. An attempt to warm her up.

"I love you," Leah whispered, kissing his neck gently.

"I love you too," he murmured in response.

woosh footnote on what all i've added/changed but have been too lazy to add

first off yeah hanzo and leah not feeling real love? yeah that's bullshit and hanzo still has some degree of feelings for her and she still has some feelings too

uhhh she fucking vores gemstones now too ✨woah✨ (blame my friends and our roleplays)

yeah uhhh she clings to noob and wants Forgiveness™ also depending on the au she got him and ermac together by calling him a pussy for not asking ermac out and when he refused she was all "yo ermac my brother-in-law wants to Smash U if u catch my drift,, also he thinks ur hot so u should date him" LMAO

also she's got three kids with kuai and one has hemophilia (we don't know where it came from oops) and is trans

the oldest is constantly Angery and Stressed but he wants the best for his family (in most aus in one au he gets corrupted by quan chi and kills his sister and leah LMAO) and the youngest is uhhhh in a relationship with my interp. of noobs shadow and it's awkward for noob (rip noob 2k18)

also in a Lot Of Aus there's a poly thing with leah tomas and kuai because im subsmoke trash tbh

#original character #mortal kombat #backstory

4 notes · View notes

tweedpawn · 7 years

Text

Gold Leaf- Cold Apathy of the Force

((Arkley Belongs to @quartervirus/ @awkwardtimezone. I always ask for permission before posting work with other characters. I have had a particularly productive moth with my warmups and my own independent writing (hour long rendering times will do that) ))

There came a time when the weight of the city became suffocating and the tiny hostel stirred restlessness in two sentients within its walls. The daily act of surviving became routine with ordinary melodies and repetitive lyrics. Days were spent gathering resources and teaching. The evenings were spent keeping ears and eyes out for danger, a gift Della had a knack for. Not that it afforded much sleep for either Jedi or Padawan. Obtaining proper rest was like trying to get a rusted out engine going. It came in fits and starts, until pure exhaustion took over. They would wake up too quickly, limbs feeling sluggish and heavy. It couldn’t go on like this, Arkley thought. Della was going stir crazy. She paced constantly between the room and the lobby, maybe taking time to loop around the fitness center to try the treadmill for the tenth time that day. Her studies had hit a wall. She was becoming frustrated with her language and her understanding of what Arkley was trying to teach her.

He knew the signs of cabin fever. There had been times on a long journey that he had been closed up and isolated. It could be maddening.

When news spoke of Imperials increasing on the planet, Arkley knew that they only had a window of opportunity to leave. Why were they increasing in this area? Arkley assumed the answer. They just had to know that he was here. A jedi for them to hunt. He instructed Della to pack her meager things. They were leaving now. When Arkley went to the front desk to pay for their visit, the hostel manager sighed. “You were a good ticket, buddy. Probably my last customer though.” The Manager said. Arkley raised an eyebrow. “Something I don’t know?” he asked. The Manager was a short cathar, wrinkled and grey. He gave a low growl. “There’s an investor in the area. He’s buying everyone up.” said the Manager. Arkley thought on this. That wasn’t typical Imperial behavior. “You never saw me or the girl.” Arkley waved his hand in front of the eyes of the Manager and left a pile of extra chips on the counter. He hated to do that to a well meaning sentient, but there could be no chances. He looked at Della. She had tied her ears down with a crude necklace and wrapped a head scarf around her. She was scared. “We’re going to walk quickly and quietly. Pretend we are normal. Understand?” Arkley said in a hushed tone to her. He placed an arm around her and kept his senses open for danger. They ducked into a darkened alleyway when a group of troopers strolled by. “Already.” He growled. Della’s teeth were grinding, as they did when she was starting to tense. Arkley took a deep breath, hoping that by being calm and allowing it to flow to Della, she would also keep a level head. He patted her hair in the space between the ears. She looked up at him, trying to understand. He needed to get to the spaceport without any delays. His heart pounded as he saw more and more troopers in the area. Luckily none of them seemed concerned. One even apologized briefly for bumping into Della, before lecturing her to be more careful. Arkley saw the port within sight, his feet were already killing him from the blocks they strided. Della watched him like a hawk, anticipating his every move. She would nudge him, usually by standing too close to him. They were about to step into the doors of the lobby of the space port, when Arkley felt an ice cold grip in his chest. It knocked the wind out of him. He felt his fingers turn frigid.

No, not here. He gulped. He pulled Della aside, just out of view of a suit that stepped out, guarded by a great brute of a man.

This first man, tall and elegant, had ice blue eyes and perfectly styled black hair. He carried a briefcase and smiled coldly at the city. He had detailed, but subdued, embellishments that screamed money. He was prim and fashionable with a face that could sell pictures.

That was the sith? Arkley had to confess that he was shocked. Sith never looked so financial. Arkley studied the brute. There was nothing remarkable about him. But Arkley would not underestimate him. Always two, there are. “It feels good to be back.” the more elegant of the sith remarked. He busied himself with something on his chronometer, and Arkley began to hope that they had not been sensed. Della looked dreadful. She was pale; her eyes glazed over. She shaked like she had a fever. Arkley brought Della close with one arm, like a parent trying to comfort a child. His mind caught flashes of far-off fields. Eyes glittering in the dark. Then the suit stopped. His arms went to his sides and Arkley could sense the frigid calculating aura of the Sith seek out and locate. Certainly, they had sensed him and Della now. The two sith looked at each other, and then began to walk towards the direction that Arkley and Della were seeking shelter. Arkley was thinking fast now. He could not take on two sith with a terrified, unarmed, padawan. They were going to have to run, but not in panic. When Arkley took a step back, The Sith stopped almost by intuition. The way the smaller one paused , with the precision of a chronometer, was artificial. Arkley no longer waited.Pulling Della by the neck of her outfit, he darted into another alleyway. His eyes looked skyward. He saw great work of construction all around him, like a web being built before his eyes. Everything shiny and new, threads of steel beams to close in on the impoverished while the spiders weaved more great shrines to industry and capital. Topped off with gaudy decorations of gold leaf and pseudo-classical revivals. There had been a great old tree near the port. It was a fountain now with a geometric sculpture erupting from its center. It was circular and flat, almost moon-like. A silver ring held thousands of clear polyglass shards. There was a smaller circle inside of it. Something about that statue inspired dread that Arkley had rarely felt. It felt hot and humid. His chest tighten. He sensed that something great and terrible would come to pass. The truth twisted and became a pinpoint light that Arkley swore would burn right through him. As if a million voices cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced. He was revulsed by the sight of this little innocuous piece of corporate “Art”. He wanted to smash it to pieces. He felt called to throw a great stone to rid the landscape of this obscenity. They tore down a tree for this trash.

“You’re one of those has-beens” said an icy voice. Arkley saw one man with a great long shadow pointed like a dagger, then two, and at least five identical copies of the Sith with the Briefcase. Illusions. They all watched like cameras, their gaze fixated on the two Jedi. They moved with jerky ticks, like intricate gears. There was silence in the air. Arkley’s hand rested on where his lightsaber hung. Della was close behind him. The Sith stepped forward, expression candid and focused. On his hip there was no blade. There was a pistol carved from some sort of black stone. Ornate and dark as the suit he wore. There were geometric designs around the barrel of the gun inlaid with red kyber crystals.Never, had Arkley seen such a blaster. Uncivilized. “Your bags are packed.” The sith remarked with a twitch of a smile. He appeared like a suited tomcat watching a bird flap helplessly on the ground. But where was the other hunter? “You noticed me. And my associate? He’s closeby, I assure you.” said another one of the copies. “You hide behind illusions, and get some goon to do your dirty work.” snipped Arkley. All five copies raised an eyebrow. “Dirty work?” they said. The Illusion in the center stepped forward. “On the contrary,” He said. “My work is legal; I do not unclean my hands hunting down some invalid and his litter.” He stopped and glared at Della,locking eyes with her, terrified, round saucers. The sith’s eyebrows pressed together, recalling some fact or piece of information that stubbornly refused to materialize completely. The illusions were all staring at her. Arkley hid the panicked girl behind him, stepping forward. Her fear was powerful. It caused his mouth to dry out and his pulse to quicken. The illusions stepped closer. “And just how many chronometers are you hoping to buy with our heads?” Arkley’s lips snarled back. The illusions stopped in their paces. The Sith’s sculpted faces turned upward to the emerging buildings on the horizon. “Those properties? They are worth more than you. I bought your temples. Refurbished one into an incredible planned community with a shopping center and flats. ” The sith remarked proudly.

Arkley then realized that what he had sensed from the Sith was not fear, anger nor hate. It was Apathy. It was the type of apathy that allowed war crimes to occur in far flung places. It was the reason the impoverished suffered. It denied its own accountability, while demanding it from others. It’s not my problem that some screwup ended up on the streets. They should have gotten a real job.

The Sith’s chronometer went off, and the illusions frowned. They looked back at the Jedi like they were trespassers in a ritzy neighborhood. “ The jedi never realized that a man is worth only what he is able to produce. You stopped producing. Parasite. I have no time for you.” The illusions became four shadows as they melted towards the center Sith. He stood in the contrasts of shadows and light. Whites and blacks crisscrossing into spears and arrowheads. In a blink, he was gone. But someone else had taken his place. The Brute. And he came charging towards Arkley like a boar on fire, blade ignited and power roaring like a train. Arkley ignited his blade just in time to block. Della screamed in horror. The force of her terror shoving both men away from her into a tumble of blades and limbs.

The Brute fell onto his back. Arkley fell onto his elbows and knees, the pavement coating them in pain. The Brute seemed stunned; his head had struck the concrete. Arkley himself prayed that his own wrists did not get sprained. He looked to Della, She looked confused and shocked as to what happened. He knew exactly what she had just done. He would have to talk with her about it, but her action had afforded a chance. Seeing an opportunity, he scrambled onto his feet, as the brute started to regain his senses. “Run!” He shouted. But the monster had already caught back up. Another clash of blades. Arkley knew they only had a limited amount of time before Stormtroopers showed up, and then only the Force knew what would happen next. But the Brute did not call for reinforcements, and he fought to kill.

Parry. Strike. Lunge. Dodge. Deflect. The Brute was starting to wear him down. They had been evenly matched. Arkley blessed his skill and experience. He cursed the power of his opponent's youth. But then the Brute seemed to pause for a second, just as he looked at Della as a potential source of weakness for the Jedi. Looking at his quarry with the same confused stare as the Suit did. It was a distraction Arkley used to his advantage, cutting the tip diagonally across the left arm, chest and nicking the neck. No blood poured out of the cauterized wounds, but they were deep. The smell of burnt flesh meant that shock from inflamed nerves would set in quickly and at least provide a chance to escape. Arkley grabbed Della by the wrist, pulling her to his speed as they made their dash to the ship. “Running late! Out of the way!” He shouted past stormtroopers and guards. He paid the port guard, no, bribed the port guard. And the ship was ready for take off within moments. Moments that felt like an eternity.

He strapped himself into his seat. Della shakily imitating him in her own chair.

Arkley felt his heart jump into his throat as there was a sudden influx of troopers in the bay. They fired at the vessel and scattered to prevent the ship from leaving. Even as the ship elevated and left them all in the dust, he did not dare to breathe.

He leaped into Hyperspace. Then another. On the third jump, red warning lights flashed. His hands tightened around the steering. His teeth bared down. He prayed it would hold together. Della looked around in alarm, trying to understand anything that was happening. Finally, there was only calm.

The escape had been narrow. Arkley wasn’t sure that he was still alive, the deafening pounding of his blood in his ears being the anchor that reminded him he still had yet to cross the veil. He looked to his left in the cockpit of his ship. Della looked green with sick. Arkley quickly helped her unbuckle the safety harness and winced as the poor girl ran to the refresher to vomit out her insides. As she hurled and coughed, Arkley reached for a bottle of water, rehydrating himself. Sweat on his face mixed with the liquid, slightly salting it. He withdrew into the Force, feeling its coolness wash over him. He fell back into his chair. As his body succumbed to its peace, Arkley became aware of the temporary weakness in his limbs. His hands were shaking. The wearing off of adrenaline. He dug for a protein bar and quickly scarfed it down. What had alarmed him wasn’t how close he came to capture or execution. But the overwhelming fear his padawan felt. It was like a tidal wave. It had manifested. What was the saying? The mantra? Fear leads to anger… Della had no anger, that Arkley was aware of. He viewed this as a good sign. The Masters had outdated notions on how to deal with fear. There was an excellent chance that with training and kindness, the root of Della’s fear could be turned into something that drove her to help others that struggled. Your old fears will become wind in your sails. The sink turned on as Della cleaned up whatever mess she made. She returned to the passenger seat, still pale. But, she looked a little better. More tired than terrified now. “You’re dehydrated.” Arkley gave her some water, which she gulped down quickly.She then removed the head scarf and the jewelry that tied her ears down. They looked out into the stars, recuperating energy and settling nerves. Della knew exactly what they had run into. She had seen them before.

They were the ones in the fields with the golden eyes and dark cloaks. The ones her snamreg friend saw in a past vision that terrified and haunted him. They had the sticks that Arkley had. Except one of them had a gun that fired light. That had been the one who caught Della. Her mouth tasted of the bile she had spat up earlier. When she was offered a snack of some sort, she forced herself to eat it to forget the taste of her stomach contents. Her entire body felt weak and shook. Della didn’t want to talk about those awful men. Something happened, didn’t it? She did something that made Arkley and The Sith go flying away from her. She looked at the hilt at his belt. Della never liked it. She remember seeing it cutting across metal like it was butter. Today, she saw what it could do to people.

What was so important about that weapon that Arkley had one? Couldn’t he just as easily carry a gun? Arkley, practically slept with that thing at his side. Della’s stomach churned again. Had he killed someone before? No. Not him. He was a kind man.

She felt a strange calmness. Just like when she first met Arkley. She looked over at her guardian, who had his eyes closed and was taking long, deep, breaths. His palms rested on his lap. He looked asleep, but his face did not carry the placid ease of dreaming. Della had seen him do this before. The first time it happened, she thought the man had fallen asleep upright. He had a word for it, meditation. It was a funny way to spend the time, Della thought. But, he looked at ease. The longer the stillness continued, the more Della felt calm and settled. She wasn’t sure why. She buckled herself back up and continued here gaze into the stars. The hum of the ship was like a lullaby now. It felt reassuring.Everything is working properly. It wasn’t until her eyes felt heavy, and she thought she would drift off to sleep, that Arkley quietly started to navigate the ship to some unknown location. He turned on some of the strange space music that sounded electronic and organic at the same time. She would catch a familiar sound every now and then, a bit of brass or string.

Della did not bother with stirring herself awake. Her exhaustion from the encounter with the Sith had consumed a great deal of energy. She didn’t remember falling asleep. Every now and then, her head would jerk up, and her eyes open just to see more starlight. Then, her ears would droop and her mouth slacken as she drifted off to rest.

:Arial;coп0;R:

#arkley #SAK #quartervirus #SWTOR #Jedi #sith #Dellafrey #della #OC

2 notes · View notes

shallahraekwon062488 · 7 years

Photo

Not I

Summary:

A small collection of tales of the early days of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Notes:

———————————————– (See the end of the work for notes.) ———————————————–

Chapter 1: Fire To My Soul

————————————————————————————————– Disclaimer: I only own the characters I created. Not Daredevil or any other character that appears any other Marvel works. They are the property of Marvel. ————————————————————————————————–

————————————————————————————————–

Psalm 34:19 The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all;

————————————————————————————————–

Not I

Chapter 1: Fire To My Soul

Jonathan “Jack” Murdock was a professional boxer. He lost more than he won, with a record at 24-31. But he could take a beating. Every now and then he’d get hit and something inside him would snap. He’s mother, She used to say, “Be careful of the Murdock boys. They got the devil in ‘em.” And you’d see it sometimes in the ring. His eyes would go dead… and he’d start walking forward real slow, hands at his sides like he wasn’t afraid of anything. And the other guy, he’d see that look, and he’d try to get away from him. he’d catch him and trap him in a corner. He let the devil out.

Jack’s son; Matthew couldn’t understand what grandmother meant, not back then at least. But now he did.

Cause he was about to let his devil out. ———————————————————————————————-

Krystal White was a 20 year-old, who worked at Rome’s Palace after school. Not only to pay for school, but to also help her mother around the house. The job didn’t pay a lot, but it more made up for it in tips. Plus her boss; Relly. Let her take some food home sometime, which helped as well. Tonight in particularly was good. Not only did she make almost hundred-fifty dollars in tips tonight, she also got her overtime.

“Maybe I’ll get me and Ma’s hair done and Ben that new Madden?” Krystal wonder to herself. Thinking about how her little brother got a paper route job. Too try help her and their mother. He’s been wanting Madden 15 for weeks now.

Yes!!! Tonight was a pretty nice night. But little did the young lady know it was about to go south really fast.

While walking through the parking lot to catch the 11:30 P.M. subway to head home, but lost in her thoughts. Krystal didn’t see or hear the sleazy figure coming upon her. It quickly wrapped it’s unsavory hands around her throat and waist, carrying her struggle 5 foot person to a dark ally.

“Don’t worry baby. If you play nice you might like it and ask for more.” The assailant said in a sleazy voice. Letting out a chuckle to match.

Krystal’s brown eye’s widen with panic and heart thumped furiously with fear. Realizing this mugger wanted more than her money. Using all her might and taking advantage of the Mugger/Rapist’s relaxing grip, as they neared the alley. She was able to break the grip of her assailant grip and run.

“Help!!!!!!!!! Someone Please Help Me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Krystal screamed as loudly has she could. Her voice mix with dismay and begging. For she knew the odds of someone hearing her were low, even lower were the chance of somebody hearing and actually helping her.

This was Hell’s Kitchen nobody helps nobody for free.

Krystal’s hopes was extinguish and fears realize, when the Mugger/Rapist caught up to her. Grabbing her hard by the shoulders and throwing her into a parked car near by. Her head bouncing off the side of the car door, leaving a small dent.

“ That wasn’t very wise little tramp. Now I guess I’m going to have take it right here. If you do anything I will break your fucking jaw, got it sweetheart?” The Mugger/Rapist spoke in a voice matching his whole persona and left no room for conversation. Has he slowly walked to the young woman he threw to the ground, he’s grimy hands going towards his belt.

Tears started to roll down Krystal light brown face. Has she came to the realization that nobody was going to save her. This guy was 6’2 and weighed as least 200 pounds. He was way out of Krystal’s weight class.

But he was just right for Matt who heard Krystal’s pleading screams and terrorize heartbeat a block and half a way. Who processed to run, jump and flip through the rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen to get her.

After flipping down a fire escape Matt came upon them in the same alley the assailant tried to take his would-be victim. Both hearts pounding. One in anticipation of a conquest, the other in fear of being conquered.

Matt Murdock could hear both heartbeats as If they were his own, and they made him sick.

Moving quickly and quietly, the way his teacher taught him long ago. He snuck up on the Mugger/Rapist until he right behind. Taking both his hands Matt smashed them in both the Mugger/Rapist’s ears, making his head ring and throwing his equilibria off. As the Mugger/Rapist let out painful yelp and threw his hands to cover his head. Matt used the opening to perform standard Aikido throw, his opponent hitting the concrete ground with loud thoud.

Pausing in his attack for a moment to check on the young waitress. Matt focused his powerful senses on Krystal to make sure she was okay. He’s didn’t hear her bones shifting or grinding together, which meant she didn’t have any breaks, fractures or sprain. But he could taste and smell some copper in the air.

“She has a small cut on her head and some tiny scraps on hands, that must of broke her skin. Most likely from when this asshole threw her into the car and she tried to brace herself.” Matt thought angrily to himself. Fists clenching harder with anticipation of giving this worm, the beatdown he so needed.

The Mugger/Rapist stood up on wobbly legs. Before finding his balance and facing his attacker, it was The Man in Black. The guy who has been making life difficult for people in his line of work.

“YOU!!!!!???? YU… Y… YU…YOU SHOULD SERIOUSLY BACK THE HELL UP FREAK!!!!!!!!” The Mugger/Rapist stuttered then shouted, pulling out a long pocket knife. Trying he’s very best to be intimidating. But Matt could hear the fear in his voice.

The Mugger/Rapist charged at the Man in Black, looking to stab or slash him, The Mask ducked and weaved between the The Mugger/Rapist attacks, looking like a highly skilled boxer. Sensing an opening The Mask Man swung a left hook catching his opponent in the side of his abdomen with hard shot, then following it with hard three piece combination of punches straight to the cheek and jaw. The blows drawing blood.

Matt let a small wicked smirk grace his lips, as he smelt the aroma of blood in the air. Also as his opponent heart beat increase with hate and terror.

The assailant let out a loud angry groan as he again, charging at the Man in Black in a more wild fashion. Who caught one of crazed swings by the wrist and gave it nasty twist, which snapped the bone in two. The assailant howled in agony, but didn’t know it was more to come.

The Man In Black than performed a Judo technique that broke assailant’s forearm in a ugly crunch. Swinging him off the ground by the same arm until he standing up, the Masked Man perform a agile kick. Connecting to the Mugger/Rapist jaw,making his head snap back and blood fly from his mouth. Along with a tooth.

Turning to face the young lady, who watched the whole exchange in shock and wonderment. Matt slowly walked towards Krystal, who was still on the ground.

Coming directly under the street light, Krystal was able to clearly see the Masked Vigilante. That stood before her. He wore a black mask over his head, eyes and nose, leaving only his mouth uncovered. Along black suit with reyd stitching, with pants and boots to match. Krystal couldn’t deny that, while this man saved her. His outfit gave her the creeps sightly. “Are you alright?” Asked the Masked Vigilante in firm, but gentle tone. Offering the still anxious young lady a hand, to stand up. Which she took slowly, but thankfully.

“ You’re safe now he won’t hurt you or anyone no more.” The Man in Black said his tone still firm and gentle, as he helped Krystal get to her feet. Smoothly and softly.

“Th… Th.. Thank you!!!!!! Thank you so very much!!!!!! You saved me from being……” Krystal couldn’t finish her thanking he rescuer. Her voice filled with deep gratitude, as she broke into tears of relief and thanks.

Matt couldn’t help but let, a tiny smile display on his face. In sense accomplishment and appreciation. He gave her a simple nod in thanks and as well as saying your welcome.

“Call the police and have your boss stay with you until they come.” The Masked Vigilante said, tone still the same as before. Letting go of Krystal’s hand, and nodding his head towards the restaurant. Krystal’s boss came running to the window, then through the door. Gun in hand ready to help his employee and friend.

Looking in the direction we’re Relly was coming from, with a GLOCK 19 in his left hand. He had his cell phone in right hand, and he was on it. With 911 Krystal concluded.

Turning back to face the Man In Black and give her thanks one more time, Krystal was shocked to see he vanished.

“ He was just standing in front of me second ago, now he’s nowhere in sight” Krystal thought in amazement. Taking a few steps forward, searching the area for her savoir. But find nothing but the man who tried to robbed her of something more important than money, her dignity. On the concrete ground, still unconscious and his forearm and wrist bones showing.

————————————————————————————————–

Crouched on the ledge of a building across the street, Matt monitored the conversation between the waitress and boss. Relly saying sorry for not hearing and coming to her sooner, that he was in back counting tonight’s inventory, with the his headphones on. Krystal replying that was it okay and she was fine. Pointing his gun in line of the man who layed on the ground, asking who the hell he was and what happened to him.

Krystal process to explain the incident that transpired to her friend, but then asking him did he see where the Man in Black. Still wondering.

Relly said he didn’t see where he went. That when he looked down to put his phone back in his pocket and back up, the Man in Black was gone.

“I thought that maybe he was the one trying to rob you.” Relly said his voice hard to place. But sounding thankful none less.

“No!! He the one who saved me!!! I was saved by the The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen!!!” Krystal replied with a tone full of thankfulness and admiration for the man that helped her.

Matt let out light dry chuckle from where he observed them, listening to the radios, engines and sirens of the police and ambulance. They were about a mile or two from the scene, moving fast tonight for a change.

“Things should be fine here.” Matt thought evenly to himself, now performing expert acrobatic parkour movements along the rooftops. Heading west, having picked up on a home invasion in progress on the police radio.

One thought that Matt Murdock has been having lately; Is how would the people of Hell’s Kitchen would take it if they knew or ever found out. That the Devil of it was blind.

———————————————– Notes:

This is chapter one of a small drabble of stories I’m doing, that chronicles some of Matt Murdock early days. Of protecting Hell’s Kitchen and the people in it.

Please tell me you’re thoughts and feelings of this chapter.

#matt murdock #daredevil #elektra natchios #matt and elektra #karen page #matt and karen #franklin foggy nelson #claire temple #wilson fisk #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fic

10 notes · View notes

undermycitadel · 7 years

Text

Evangelina//Request//Part 1

...So take me to the airport And put me on a plane I've got no expectations To pass through here again…

“What’s her problem?” I asked myself halfway through another episode of I Love Lucy, unbelieving that the middle-aged woman’s actions were genuinely scripted. My forehead puckered with thought after Lucy managed to yet again screw up a perfectly sane situation. I supposed that my disdain for the woman was a prime part of my watching experience- as it was for others, I assumed. She was likely to be the most annoying person on the planet but it was that annoying personality that drew me to the color TV screen that sit across from my bed, atop the dresser that sit across my bedroom. Blaming this particular disgust for Lucille Ball on the pressure cooker that engulfed me at that period in time felt like the right thing to do since it was enough to make the dogs go mad. I laid on my twin sized mattress, supporting my head with my two hands, and elbows rested on the cream colored sheets that were getting too warm even with the windows open. The heat was aggravating, maddening, making the sweat spilling from my brow force my tall stray hairs stick to my face as if they were a second skin. I considered asking my Father to install a ceiling fan in my room but I doubted it would make any difference. The summer of sixty would be blasting three months away from the cool classrooms of tiled floors and empty halls, and it would be a rowdy one at that.

I never looked forward to summer vacations. It was never fun for me, just plain boring. I didn't have any friends to spend afternoons with, no relatives in the area to kill time with, nor were there many things to do first for a sixteen-year-old girl in suburban Soho in the first place. The last day of school was also a drag because it was the transition into the three months of Summer in which I had absolutely nothing to occupy myself. My mother, since the beginning of June, talked of how she would ask her boss for time off in order to spend time with me over the break. I doubted it over and over, but soon enough she’d convinced me otherwise.

Both of my parents are lawyers, working for what is considerably the “most prestigious” law firm in the world, Latham & Watkins. They were responsible for advising and representing the company’s VIP status client's, presenting the claims and cases to the judges and before government representatives, evaluating the data, and other important lawyerly duties that would make a person bow down to their work ethic. Oh, and answering phone calls about partnership inquiries. Excessively, would they parade around the house talking amongst each other about how difficult their job was and or complaining to me about how complicated getting through the work day was each and every time we all would sit down for dinner and I would attempt to talk about whatever good event happened in my day. I made the dinner most times because there was no time for either of them to make the meal when they would arrive home from work. My theory for this being; they would purposefully conversate about the trials and tribulations of their jobs every possible second to make me less of a bother. Make me pity them because god forbid our precious daughter- our only daughter gets in the way of our demanding job. If that was the case, then it worked because it became once in a blue moon when I would ask them for much because I would fear them being too busy and getting mad. Some time later, it was my own new unspoken vow to be as scarce as possible in my parent’s routine. The occasional dynamic in behavior out of either of them would always surprise me, with them being so stern it was hard to even dream of a foreseeable future where they would make time to chill out for once.

We'd never taken an actual vacation. Unless you would consider spending a weekend in Pittsburgh with my mother sitting in a hotel room while my Father confirmed his admissions and attended a meeting to discuss the direction of his company a vacation. Not fun at all for my standards, nor was it in comparison to what the girls at school talked about. My parents weren't too fond the idea “vacation” because that meant taking time off of work and their jobs were much too valued for that. Mom and Dad were too busy to relax, I knew that for a fact, and so when my mother asked if I wanted to go to Uncle Howard's for the summer my first reaction was where have I heard that name before, as opposed to what have they planned for me?

She cracked my bedroom door just enough to peek her head through, then her body, then more until she was fully emerged standing in and front of the television screen with her hands folded behind her back. She stood tall and figured at a five foot nine inches wearing a beautiful blood red velvet dress with stockings, topped off with her bare feet. Her glossy, toffee-colored hair cascaded down her back and spilled over her chest. Her pink face was pure porcelain, makeup was clean cut, with a red lip and mascara. The aroma of her Chanel number five was She was beautiful today, and that forced the thought of how she wasn’t sweating in the slightest and not ruining her makeup. I didn’t think I would understand it even if there were any logic behind it.

My mother, Marceline De Kloet-Abel, was a beautiful Dutch woman. Born in nineteen twenty-five, she, at thirty-six, could be a supermodel if she desired, and when she wasn’t working she could rival even Jean Shrimpton. During the work week she wore mostly suits and her hair tamed in a beehive. My Mother didn’t fancy makeup when in a business environment because she claimed it would “distract from her tasks convince her peers that she lacked the intelligence to succeed in the workplace”. Marceline was far from stupid, I can defend her on that one. She graduated her high school at the top of her class also in college with honors and a 4.0 GPA average. Knowing that, it would be an outgoing statement to label her “a dumb broad”, as she was the brightest woman in our family, the breadwinner out of her six older sisters and two older brothers. She was as pretty as she was smart as she was headstrong as headstrong as she was a Dutch woman. Maybe it was her roots but nothing could get in her way if she was determined to do something and she was willing to argue her point if you were against what she was all for. Classy too. Always managing to have a put-together outfit and a nice fragrance within arms reach of her purse. She made sure that the house was never out of order and that I did my chores at least twice a day and was particularly stern about that. My room was never a mess thanks to her and I always knew where my knick-knacks were. Maybe she had OCD. I can’t say that the thought hadn’t crossed my mind, but I can say that it was enough to make my love and hatred for her about equal. She’s my Mother, so I guess I have to tolerate her stubborn personality but her physical appearance was something that somewhat made up for it.

“Evangelina? Sorry to bother you at this time, but do you have a minute?”

“Yes, okay”, I hurriedly sat up from my rather uncomfortable position on the sticky bed and was quick to fold my legs like a lady as I was taught to do so many years ago.

“Your Uncle Howard is inviting you to spend the Summer with him and his family. He just called, and I told him that I would call him back with your answer”.

“Howard?”, I asked torn on whether or not that name existed anywhere in my mind. My brows drew together.

“You don't remember Uncle Howard?”.

Obviously not.

“I’m sorry”.

I shook my head- and Mom tried to jog my memory with describing him as the lanky man with a checkerboard suit at my second birthday celebration but it was no use. The man was nonexistent. He had to be.

Finally she said, “Your cousin Brigitte. That's his daughter”. That was a name that I did remember and a face that I adored whenever I’d get the opportunity to see it.

“Sure. Uncle Howard, yeah”, I tried to sound familiar with the name even though I still had no recollection. It sounded convincing enough.

“Would you want to go to his town for the summer?” she brought her hands to her abdomen and proceeded to fold then over and over.

“Sure”, I agreed, only because I was already sold that wherever he lived would be more interesting that sitting in a crockpot for three months with the taunting dreams of your eighteenth birthday to keep you company. Part of me was genuinely excited for the change in setting however for me, mostly because I wanted to leave Soho for a while.

Mother explained to me how she and Dad would be working for the majority of the next three months with the law firm’s branch expansion and that Uncle Howard and his wife Debra offered to take care of me while they took care of business. That hasn't surprised me yet. However, she used him living all the way in Dartford as a way to excite me. And it did. I didn't mind the fact that my parents worked twenty-four-seven much anymore. I totally understood it by now and felt that I had no place in telling them what's good for them and to spend more time with me. After all, I came into their lives, not the other way around. At the very least, they wanted me out of the way so that I wouldn’t feel neglected while they took care of business. It didn't bother me at all. Not one bit. Occupying my time with chores and scribbling my experiences of the days were enough for me, replacing the conversation with my parents and the friends that I had yet to meet. Cousins of mine such as Brigitte were who I felt the most faultless around because they were family and near my age. We're more relatable than the adults in my life.

My expectations for this trip were low. I doubted that I would come out of my shell and venture on into new territory, whether with my parents or not things wouldn’t change. Actually, them not being there would make it even better. If I could sneak away and get time to explore the uncharted territory I would have such a free, enjoyable summer. I knew that Brigitte would cover for me if I chose to slip away and wouldn’t tell a soul about what would happen.

“Okay then. I suppose you should begin to gather your things now. He’ll be over here sooner than you might think. I’ll call him back- tell him that you said yes”, and with the swing of her hip, Mother started for the door.

“I beg your pardon?”, I stopped her as she turned the doorknob. She looked at me with her eyebrows raised, understanding written in her eyes.

“ ...But do you know when he will be here, exactly?”

A line appeared between her brows as she looked to the ceiling for her recollection. She clicked her tongue a few times, then said oddly in her accent, “June twenty-fifth, nineteen sixty, nine- fifteen a.m.”.

“That’s tomorrow”.

"Yes! Hij komt in de ochtend. Haast!." She continued to her destination, leaving me with hours left to prepare.

Get ready, he’ll be here in the morning. Okay.

The second after the door closed, I wasn’t quick to attend to what was needed. I had regrets, I didn’t want to go anymore, and I only wanted to finish my show and go to bed. After realizing that I was potentially missing an opportunity to do something other than live in NYC, I picked myself up and scratched the particular spot atop my honey glazed brown hair that had been bugging me. I only didn’t tend to it because the sweat acted as a glue, sticking me to myself. And I was lazy and wanted to watch the television. My mirror showed a picture of a girl who didn’t know what to feel about what was to come. She danced to the mirror and combed her fingers through the tangled strands of hair, dreaming about the second where she would finally meet the tall, dark, and handsome man of her dreams. The girl is looking back at me with her amber eyes, glowing in the hot light shining in from the blinds. Her skin is a light shade of fawn, freckles on her chest were subtle but dark enough to spark a conversation. Her plush lips as red as a budding rose wetted after being grazed by her tongue for the sake of preventing dryness before applying a generous coat of lip balm. She takes her hand from her hair to replace it on her hip. She lets out a defeated sigh. The girl in the mirror, now toying with her large lips wishes that she could look more like her Mother. She didn’t like her brown hair as much as her Mom’s candied colored locks. She wanted her mother’s eyes and not her Dad’s ugly apple eyes.

Another sigh left the reflected girl’s mouth. She turned away from the mirror and there I was, hands pressed to the drawer to support myself as I scanned my bedroom with the intentions of finding what I would bring with me on the trip. I would have spent a day’s time preparing, freshening up my wardrobe for the sake of a new place but there was no time. I strained my neck back to have a last glance at the girl in the mirror. “C’mon. We’ve gotta get started”, I told her. She turned back, ready to leave my world for the venue of an alienated land.

I must have been up til the wee hours of the morning preparing and packing. I always manage to forget something when I pack for school and I wanted to be sure in this case that I would have everything I needed with me. Add that up with the amount of time that it took for me to shower, brush my teeth, get dressed and brush my hair, by the time I finished, my Mother was calling from the bottom of the staircase to let me know that my mystery Uncle was outside, all set to deport me to the airport. I felt butterflies in the pit of my stomach and struggled to hold back my signature youthful grin that would make an appearance on occasion. I looked forward to this vacation after all. I was looking forward to seeing new sights, trying new things, to meet new people. This could be my chance to do all of the things that I normally wouldn’t because of my parents and the rules they had are against anything cool in the slightest. I didn’t bother much and so I saw no point in them placing the rules at all. I’m a well behaved sixteen-year-old girl and I don’t think that they acknowledge that whatsoever. So It’s fine.

The tossing of the four wheels on the suitcase scattering around the floor filled the empty air of the house and butterflies filtered my stomach as I came closer and closer to the minivan that had been double-parked on the street. Mother held open the door for me and I soon found myself face to face with the vehicle that would take me to my fate. My face was gradually turning hot, I could feel it. I could recall a time where I would get embarrassed or scared for my life, and every since one of those times along with my face growing hot it paired nicely with the wrenching feeling in my gut of what was to come in the foreseeable future. A man suddenly emerged from the driver’s side of the minivan. His was indeed a lanky man in which Mother had described him to be when attempting to get me to remember the guy. It still didn’t work. But anyway, the alabaster man was lanky and wore a gray straight suit, shoes of mocha and socks of what I imagined would be polka-dotted. His butterscotch hair was slicked back with stringy stray hairs laying on his forehead. He approached me and Mother who stood as poised as usual and nodded at the both of us. His lips were thin but managed to execute a subtle smile to greet us properly. My eyes glazed over his bifocals that were snug on the bridge of his nose and covered his copper eyes and crow’s feet. He looked good for an older man.

Mother’s arms extended to invite him in for a squeeze. “Howie, hello, how are you?” she greeted with a laugh.

That is the happiest that I have ever seen her. That’s her brother.

“Oh you know how the stock market is, Marceline”, he pulled away whilst holding onto her fingertips. “Instead of a degree in business, I should have invested a degree in buy-low-logy”, he said, and the both of them erupted in laughter.

His accent is less Dutch than it is British, and stronger than I’d imagined.

I could only smile at the risk of looking out of place amongst the two adults who were having a sort of sophisticated break for humor. The internal awkwardness was able to be dealt with, so that took the edge off. Seeing my mother smile was quite the sight for me any day. It was rare and so I didn’t want to interrupt.

“Hello Evangelina, it’s good to see you after all of this time”, he turned to face me. Before I knew it, his arms were out and I was being brought into his chest for a hug that I had no choice but to accept. I didn’t want to be rude, just smile and hug back as I had been taught to do my dear mother. He smelt strongly of cologne. I had to hold my breath to contain myself from coughing up a lung.

“Hi Uncle Howard, how are you?” I asked once he let me go to be polite.

“I’m well as long as you are! How are you?”, he laughed. “Do you remember who I am, dear? I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t. I mean, it was how many years ago the last time I flew to New York for your birthday? How old are you?”

“Sixteen. Sixteen years old as of Monday”, Mother interrupted just as I opened my mouth to speak. She planted her feet in back of me and rested her hands on my shoulders. My exterior looked okay with it, however, on the inside I wanted to stomp my feet and shatter the concrete to smithereens.

Uncle Howard didn’t notice my annoyance, he only went by my Mother’s word to dive further into the subject. “Sixteen, is that right? My, my, have you grown since then. You see I remember back when you were a wee little baby on your Mother’s lap, crying for her to hold you”.

“Yeah, that was me then. I’m sorry that I don’t remember much of you...but I’m sure you’re a gentleman”. My eyes were looking for direction because I didn’t want to make eye contact with him for some shy reason. A stranger would get this same treatment

“Did you do anything for your birthday? Have a party? Cake and such?” His rheumy eyes traced back to the woman before me. Mom paused, didn’t say a word for a few seconds. I didn’t want her to lie but I certainly didn't want her to tell the truth and look bad in front of her brother. I knew how she could get when she felt ashamed. Marceline was a woman who took great pride in the way that she raised her kids. Not only that but she took great pride in her achievements as well. In her eyes, she believed that the way you raise your young reflects how you are as a person. In her case, as you were as a wife and a Mother. We always looked put together and in line with how she wanted things to be for the sake of acceptance, me and my Father. I shouldn’t care about how she looks at the spectrum but I do because it involves me and I somehow become affected by what affects her.

“We threw her a party...yeah. And she had a nice time, didn’t you Evangelina?” she awkwardly chuckled.

Lies.

“Yeah”, I smiled whilst looking up at my Mother. She was fibbing but I would rather that over telling the truth and never letting me hear the end of it for weeks on end.

“...Well, Brigitte’s about your age. She’ll be rather pleased that you’ll be joining us for the summer. Why don’t you take your bags to the van- the trunk is open. I’ll be over in a few minutes”, said Uncle Howard after reading my Mother like a book.

I dragged my multiple suitcases to the minivan and proceeded to wrestle with the back door handle. It was not left unlocked and so I spent the majority of my Uncle’s conversation grappling and gripping. In the corner of my eye I could see Mother with her arms crossed and head bobbing low, Uncle Howard stroking her arm almost like in condolence. “It’s getting bad”, I barely heard her utter. As I put my final suitcase inside of the trunk, my Uncle was ready to leave and my heart was pounding in my throat. My excitement was peaking although I didn’t dare admit to it.

I heard the fair voice of my Mother as she waved us goodbye with her extended arm and hollered “Have a nice trip, my love”. No kiss goodbye. Suddenly I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. I didn’t bother looking up because I knew that it was my Uncle. He directed me to the mustard yellow side door that he then slide open to allow me easy access to slide in and make myself comfortable. The interior was a drastic difference from what I imagined it would look like just by looking at the van’s exterior. The leather seats were a brilliant blue and the carpet on the floor was an array of colors ranging from magenta to gold. A phone station sat in between the two front seats and close to the green steering wheel. A far cry from the sophisticated man who owned the vehicle. With his Sunday’s best on, I would have assumed his van would match his style rather than his alleged personality. The wonders that this man’s brought me already and I haven’t known him for more than fifteen minutes.

“Ready to go love?” he asks me once he’s strapped into his seat and looking back at me from the driver’s side.

“Mhm”, I nod, giving him the reassurance that he needs to go forth with starting the ignition and speeding off airport bound.

My eyes wandered to the window and shaded over the trees and red cars that we would pass. What would come once we landed in the United Kingdom? I didn’t know much about London or even Dartford for that matter and I was going to spend the next few month living there? Mother told me once that the people over there use euros and shillings instead of American dollars and it made it harder to do business with British people with problems that needed to be solved in court. Father wanted me to learn up so that I wouldn’t be so ignorant to the world and only think of myself in situations. How stupid did he think I was? I know some. The idea sounded quite absurd as I took the time to analyze it. Westbury High School didn’t cover much of British history in my World History class but what they did cover was useless for visits. And I couldn’t hear much of that we learned anyway because of the other teenagers whom my Father would call ignorant because they figured because we didn’t live in the United Kingdom it wasn't important to pay attention in class and not throw paper spitballs at each other like ignorant teenagers. I wouldn’t be learning much about every architectural detail of the region, only enjoying the smaller less complex things that Dartford had to offer. If I did then the experience would be the equivalent of a school trip to the museum.

Thinking positively was as difficult as choking down my Aunt’s beef stroganoff and then telling her that you enjoyed it afterward when she’d fold her hands and watch you eat what you could. I wanted to turn back the clocks and go back to the time when Mother asked me if I wanted to go so that I could say no instead of yes but before I knew it Uncle Howard was in the airport parking lot, heading for my new home for the summer. “It’s a rental”, he said and explained without words why his car matched not his style, but his budget.

I was on fire. My face felt white hot. Uncle Howard popped the trunk of the Van to take out our luggage. I walked his way to help him somewhat and take my things to stroll into the airport wait lounge. Surrounding us were overweight Italian men with half buttoned Hawaiian shirts and tons of chest hair, the dock’s salty ocean air as the fishermen reeled in the catch of the day, beams of warm biscuits and gravy from the diner down the drive. Early bird special. Quite the comfort as I didn’t eat breakfast before leaving and my stomach had favored the scent. I turned my head away from the sweaty men approaching the airport to glance back to my Uncle. He wiped the sweat from his brow, gently picked up one of the many suitcases, and sat it on the gravel where I grasped it in my hand and to my side. My nails dug into the vinyl handle of my suitcase while keeping quiet to keep my calm at the thought of stepping inside of an airplane.

Not to say that I was scared. Just that whenever you are involved in a new experience you get a little nervous. Nervous enough, even, to gather the gall to say “I want to go back home, you won’t take me alive”. But I wouldn’t dare stoop to that level of desperation and waste a fortnight at home, virtually alone whilst my parents ventured a quest for the gold status of certified workaholics.

“Evangelina, dear, excuse me”, Uncle huffed, out of breath from removing the heaviest of bags from the trunk of the car. My eyes shot back to his. “Are you ready to go?”

No.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go. I’ll help you with some of these bags. You look a bit worn”.

My Uncle smiled a proud smirk. He rubbed my shoulder and said, “You know, It’s good to see you handling all of this with a positive outlook”. My brows drooped. I didn’t understand where he was getting at. “I’m sorry?” I asked as politely as I could. “I know that your parents are having problems with their marriage, and this summer they’re gonna do all they can to patch things up so it won’t hurt you. I feel bad for you that you had to witness the deterioration of their relationship over the last few years but I want you to know that it’s not your fault. But you’re a strong girl. I know it. And we’re going to have a nice vacation away from all of the negativity”. I stood still and stared at him aimlessly. That’s some food for thought to take with me on the plane. He must have known something I didn’t, just didn’t know that I didn’t but I didn’t want him to be in trouble for spilling any beans. Sure I was devastated. It felt like a pipe bomb. I played along because I value others more than I value myself and I hate myself because of it.

“Thank you. You are a kind sir for your concerns Uncle Howard...I’m sure the events over the course of this summer will take my mind off of things, surely”, I faked a sure smile. That last part was a bonafide lie. How could I forget about something that bazaar? That Ludacris? I thought about it on the walk through the airport doors. I thought about it on the wait for the plane to arrive. I thought about it during the wait for the flight to take off while sitting on heated seats and padded chairs in first-class. “Would you care for some boiled chicken and a side of assorted vegetables? A glass of milk?” the flight attendant asks me once it hits one in the afternoon and I’m still thinking about it. Oh, no thank you to the peanuts. I’ve got a piece of shock that I’m still working on. I say “I say yes please, but can I have an unsweetened hot tea instead” because I haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours and I wouldn’t care for milk.

After I ate until the taste of dry chicken brought the desire for a gun to shoot the taste out of my mouth. I was no longer hungry, rather, my hunger after a few bites of poorly steamed carrots and wet cabbage turned to hurt and depressed feelings in my chest. That feeling gradually grew stronger and then some until I had no choice but to think about “it”. I thought about it and thought about it some more. Uncle Howard didn’t notice my depression, and I didn’t want him to because “this” is not what my first vacation would revolve around. It’s forbidden and I won’t allow it to, so it was a good thing that I was being ignored. I thought about it until I decided to stop thinking about it for the sake of staying away from the point of no return and ruining my first vacation and pissing myself off any more by my mood, or anyone else at that matter. Sitting closest to the window provided an opportunity to scan the horizon and clear my mind or at the very least try to forget for the rest of the flight. Being over a vast, soothing body of water was okay I suppose. At least if I died I would be swimming with the fish and that’s all that I really wanted to do this summer anyways. So much for cooling off. I could feel my face steam from my pores and now all I want to do is die and I don’t quite know why.

No more moping internally. I’ll save that for later. Now, I’ll drown in drowsy and deal with someone else’s problems afterward.

______________________________________________________________

The world was shaking, shaking me from my sleep and even after I awoke, groggy due to the uncomfortable first class luxury padded seat. I suppose it was meant to feel like a cloud of careless living but for some reason, that of which I did not understand, the chair was the opposite. Oh yeah, my parents are divorcing. And I wasn’t supposed to think about it. I forgot.

As I wiped the sleep from my eyes as the high pitched beep arose from the speakers littered on the ceilings of the plane. The pilot. The man whom I wish would make one false move and seal my fate. Sounding like a robot, he announced “Attention passengers; this is your captain speaking. We’re just about ready to land this grand ol’ plane down in the United Kingdom. The British Kingdom. London, to be exact, where you can let your hair down and enjoy the sights and bring back beautiful pictures in your polaroids. Estimated time of landing: five minutes. Buckle up and get ready for the time of your life”. A small eruption of applause followed, as did another flight attendant who started the speak about seatbelt safety. “Can anyone tell me what a seatbelt is?”

At baggage claim I sport a solemn look in my eyes. I know that I shouldn’t be so involved in this, whatever it is but I don’t know what has gotten over me. I’m not menstruating or anything. Uncle Howard sat next to me on the long, circular, leather waiting chair at baggage claim tapping away at the tiles on the floor with his studded shoe. It won’t be long before our luggage would be here and we would be in Dartford finally, I would practically smell the divorce papers being signed. No, I could practically smell the sweet Dartford grass! Our luggage came around the conveyer belt, my Uncle took care of unloading our things while I was only given the job of taking what was mine. After nothing was left behind he told me that his car was parked outside of the airport and that it would ride us home to his castle, he was the king. If I wanted to think about “it” it was no use. I was going back to my old ways of anxiousness and curiosity of what would be waiting for me in the land of mystery and that was, as far as I knew, was foreign. People from there must be aliens like Canadians. The soothing trees and the hush from the cascading winds blowing winds about made we want to think optimistically about my visit to this uncharted territory, disregard my parents’ marriage for the first time in forever and live. Actually live, as someone other than myself because myself would never let me live as another.

10 notes · View notes