Status: Closed
This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted.
About
"Someone will remember us, I say, even in another time."
"How inconvenient to be made of desire."
"It's me, hi, I'm the problem its me."
Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. For this round, every prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, do whatever. Steal from a literary classic, or copy WeVerse drama.
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vengence
Major Tags: ?? death :3
Additional Tags: go wild !
Do Not Wants: nothing make it fucked up as you want !
Prompt:
[FILL] don't get sad, get even
Major Tags: Cheating, infedelity, NSFW, sexual content, MCD
Additional Tags: Pining, revenge, sex work
Permission to remix: Please ask
***
Jun feels an iron-grip eclipse his waist: a brand, a challenge, a confession. He doesn't have to turn around to guess who it is; this is what you get when big, powerful men walk into the room: you just know.
He doesn't flinch despite his blood spiking, alarm bells ringing red behind his eyes. No, you don't flinch on the job—you lean back and pretend to enjoy it.
"You're early," Jun purrs into the glass he's holding, watches the neon lights dance around the liquid, warping and twisting. He lets his neck be kissed, feels teeth grazing the column of his throat like a deer offering itself for slaughter.
The circle of life, eat and be eaten.
"Cancelled meeting," more kisses down his throat but this time, fingers dance around the buttons of his shirt, twisting and pulling. Jun simply hums, watches the scene unfold in front of him with a lazy eye. Like he's not even there, a bystander watching his own ruination.
He wonders if the Chinese place near his apartment would still be open after work, he's craving for dumplings.
"Wanna take this upstairs?"
And Jun nods, his voice a tiny little thing inside of him as he feels himself being pulled and then dragged.
He wonders if it's worth the effort to put up a fight, wonders why he doesn't even think of putting up one. Maybe it has become a habit, do it enough of times and it turns into a routine.
But there's nothing routine with the way his back meets the feather-soft bed, there are hands on his hair urging his neck to go up, up, up until he tastes cherry on his lips.
Must have been with the wife, then.
Suddenly, something akin to a firecracker lights inside Jun's gut, a line of boom, boom, boom exploding and he finds himself pushing back. Hand on his chest, Jun flips them over and revels in the quiet surprise that flashes in Seungcheol's wide eyes.
Jun doesn't waste any time. He rids Seungcheol of his shirt, morbid satisfaction lacing his fingers as he hears the clack of buttons falling to the ground like broken glass.
He can never leave marks but he can make things difficult, have men confess their sins to him like a priest, force them to confront their true nature, let them stare at the beast of their own creation.
He can force Seungcheol to call up his secretary and ask them to deliver a fresh shirt for him to wear before going home, pretending he doesn't reek of someone else. Go back to his quaint, little house, perhaps to a small dog excitedly nipping at his pant legs before he bends down and cages them in his arms. Perhaps a door will open, a silver crack of light disturbing the darkness of the living room, perhaps someone will walk out in a tiny slip of a thing and kiss him like Jun never had.
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.
"You're distracted, is something wrong?"
Confusion flash like warning signs on Seungcheol's eyes and Jun bats it away with a single wink, "Just thinking of ways we can have fun, tonight."
Seungcheol languidly leans back against the pillows and watches Jun with a smug grin, "Alright, take the lead, then."
When Jun kisses Seungcheol, he kisses him like a confession—a sinner begging for mercy, a soul condemned to the fire, desperation making his movements hungry and erratic.
"Slow down," Seungcheol hisses as he pulls Jun off his cock.
Vision swimming hazy, drool dribbling from his lips, Jun smiles, "Thought I'll be taking the lead?"
"Not when you're about to bite my dick off," Seungcheol scoffs as he flips them over, muscles rippling like the ocean in a storm.
"Hey, you're with me?"
Jun thinks that's a funny question, was he ever truly with Seungcheol?
"Suck me off?" Jun asks because he doesn't want to read into whatever's clawing in his chest, demanding for attention.
Its dangerous territory.
Seungcheol doesn't say anything else, simply delivers and Jun holds on to him desperately as they chase their high.
The sound of skin slapping against each other reverbrates across the room like an unfinished melody: broken, grating, discordant.
A reminder of their sins.
-
Jun watches in silence as Seungcheol sleeps soundly beside him, a beast tamed and satisfied. It's a stark contrast to the way he envelopes a room once he walks in, movements purposeful and sure. All business, gets what he wants in a blink of an eye.
Men like him don't wait, men like him take, men like him never pay for their sins.
Jun makes sure the flash is off, the brightness of his phone turned all the way down as his fingers move across the screen.
Later, Jun wakes up to the sound of the bell ringing.
Must be the dumplings, he thinks as he pulls the door open.
—
[BREAKING NEWS] Man shot in his home, gunman at large authorities say.