#And the curse made things so much more amusing objectively

[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika becomes your boss at The Last Drop

content: this fic is another multi-chapter work! i hope you enjoy.

content warning for this fic: depiction of sa (this chapter only), blood, slight gore/fight scenes, cursing, sexually explicit content. pretty heavy topics to be honest, it makes a lot of commentary on how it's like to live in Zaun. since this chapter has an sa scene (very lightly detailed scene but still hints to it), if you would like to skip that part, there will be three asterisks (***) that indicate when the scene begins and when it stops so that you can do what's safer for you. sa will not be talked about alot in depth for the rest of the chapters, and i will give a content warning to chapters that hint or reference it.

word count: 3k

thanks for reading!

Part One

When you are first hired at the Last Drop, it only takes 4 hours for Sevika’s name to circulate the building and make its way towards you. 

The first time you spot her, she is brushing through a crowd of drunkards, seemingly not wanting to be approached with an expression as hard as stone. The tall woman, attractive and large as she may be, is intimidating. Her figure, although only in your line of vision for a few seconds, is something made of pure muscle and height. You know that she could easily tower over you if she wanted. 

Despite her quick and fast entrance, it only takes your first day to realize that Sevika isn’t someone that you fuck around with. And based on the way that your coworkers and supervisors tense at the mere mention of her name, it’s obvious that she’s someone important here.

Throughout your first month at the Last Drop, any other appearances of Sevika is no different. Her steel cold stare could freeze anyone to death. You��ve seen her drag people upstairs only for them to never come back down (who knows what she or Silco did with the body?). You’ve seen the way she dominates the deadliest men–how she doesn't let them silence her. 

How she challenges them…

You've also seen the way that your coworkers have gotten their heart broken, hoping to be the one-night-stand turned lover that changes Sevika’s promiscuous ways. And every time, your coworkers end up heartbroken. Gender doesn’t really seem to matter with Sevika. She’s ruthless with everyone. She’s mean.

And, God, you really hate how much you like mean women.

At first, you thought it was amusing to be pining after her. It isn’t surprising, since you've had your fair share of passionate romances (and heartbreaks) with people similar to Sevika. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you can’t seem to stay away from them.

But now it’s been over a month and you can't help but wonder when the crush will dissipate. At this point, it's entirely inconvenient.

You've managed to keep yourself out of the limelight for the majority of your time at the Drop. You’ve found your rhythm by staying in the kitchen, away from the wandering eyes of questionable strangers. Away from Sevika.

But that only lasts for so long.

Amy, your boss, manages to shatter your Switzerland bubble on a Thursday evening at noon. It’s exactly the last thing you want to hear: “I need you to swap schedules with Janessa,” Amy barks.

It isn’t a suggestion or question. It’s a demand. 

Your mouth opens to object, already feeling that familiar pang of agitation within you. But Amy doesn’t hang around long enough to hear. 

“Thanks!” She calls over her shoulder, briskly walking behind the counter and towards the kitchen.

Your teeth grind and your jaw clenches. With balling fists, you stand there for a few more minutes. Trying to simmer down. Trying not to get fired.

You cook. You make new recipes. You may even help the dishwashers every once in a while (especially on nights that are packed). 

But you don’t buss and you don’t wait. That’s Janessa’s ballpark. She’s known as one of the best waiters in town. Her reputation followed her as she hopped in between different restaurants before landing at The Last Drop for good. She’s usually quick, efficient, polite but not too polite (no one ever could be considering the kind of people that this job attracts). 

The idea of Janessa swapping places with you in order to cook an overwhelming amount of food under the pressure of constant verbal abuse? That doesn’t sound right. 

Well, it doesn’t sound like something she would willingly do.

“I tried to help you out,” Max, your coworker, whispers. He clicks his tongue while washing down the countertop of the bar. You forgot that you were holding a conversation with him before Amy interrupted. “I overheard her talking to Nessa about it and offered the swap.” Max blinks through his thick lashes, which are covered with clumps of purple mascara, before he makes eye contact with you. “The bitch told me I wasn't qualified. Can you believe it?”

You snort underneath your breath, nearly choking at the idea of such a conversation happening.

Max—a petite curly-haired himbo with stunning hazel eyes and nails long enough to claw your heart out—most certainly isn't a popular bartender due to his skills. He has charisma, a charming personality and a smile that can make anyone stop in their tracks. He’s willing to listen to anyone that needs a shoulder to cry on (which is almost always every regular that comes here),  and he doesn’t mind sucking up to Amy as long as it means that he has full control of the bar. He’s been employed here long before Amy’s time, which you truly believe is his saving grace.

He knows the history, the neighborhood— the business very well.

But mixing drinks? Not his strong suit.

Seeing him out on the level ground with numerous tables to handle would be comical. A train wreck for sure, but definitely comical.

“Did she say why Nessa was swapping?” Self consciously, you peer at the rest of the pub over your shoulder. Everyone is seemingly out of earshot but it doesn’t hurt to be sure.

Max’s shoulders tense. He stops his scrubbing, right hand still holding onto his soaked disinfecting cloth as he sends you a sidelong glance. “Not my place to tell.”

The hairs stand up on your arms as you register his reply.

The sound of the entrance door opening is what shatters your reverie. Just like that, Max’s shoulders relax. A smile spreads across his face, this time not quite reaching his eyes, as he looks towards the door. “Welcome to The Last Drop!” He says, voice dipping into that flirtatious cadence you know all too well.

That is all he is going to say on the matter. You know Max doesn’t like gossiping about people’s shit. And your coworkers definitely have a lot of messy situations throughout their employment here. He wants no relation to any of it. 

You pick up on the hint, instead swallowing your curiosity and looking at the incoming customer. It’s one of the workers from the brothel across the street. She’s a leggy brunette with towering stilettos and a resting bitch face as cold as stone. She’s just as unapproachable as the last time you saw her. But there’s a spark in her eye when she regards Max. Based on her last few visits, you’ve grown to learn that she’s taking a liking to him.

“Well, that's my cue. I’ll leave you to…do your thing,” You mumble, fighting off a smirk. Max peers at you with a quizzical expression as you gesture vaguely to the bar around you. “Or whatever nonsense you do up here…”

“Hmph,” He rolls his eyes. “Shouldn't you be back there making shepherd's pie or something?”

“You mean working? Something you're not familiar with, I’m sure.”

“With a face card like this? I’m too fabulous to work.” He winks before gesturing towards his face. “A reality you're not familiar with, I’m sure.”

A laugh erupts out of you as you click your tongue. You’re walking towards the kitchen, ready to clock out for the day and finally rest, when you hear the lady of the night approach the bar. You believe her name to be Scarlett, and her voice is a low and silky murmur while she addresses Max.

When you glance over your shoulder, you can't help but notice the way her cleavage spills over her frilly corset top. Her braids are pulled into a bun on top of her head, eyes alluring as she peers at Max through thick long lashes.

Too caught up in all the glamor that Scarlett is, you walk right into a nearby wall (because that is unfortunately what happens whenever beautiful women are near you). 

Max and Scarlett immediately glance at you. Max, with that all-knowing smirk, and Scarlett's raised eyebrow is enough to make you want to dig yourself a grave.

But you don't. Instead, you clear your throat, apologize and shuffle to the kitchen with haste.

The air is thick with cigarette smoke.

That’s one of the reasons why you hate waiting. 

You don’t mind occasionally working in such an atmosphere. After all, you are one of the few chefs that regularly make an appearance everyday. So you’ve grown accustomed to walking through the boisterous crowds of smokers and drunken belligerents before and after your shifts.

But then, for the rest of the shit, you usually find solace in the kitchen—swallowed by plates and dishes and food and ingredients—which is more your forte.

“Hey pretty lady,” A bald, greasy buff man grumbles. His eyes are set on you yet simultaneously far away. Out of focus. “I’m getting hungry. Why don't you come over here and serve me?” Then he winks with a shit-eating grin that makes you queasy.

“You're not in my section,” You reply dryly with a shrug. “But I'll let Dylan know that you're ready to order.” 

“I don't want Dylan,” His eyes linger on your chest, before trailing down your entire physique. It's almost as if he allows his entire train of thought to become visible for everyone to read. 

Your teeth grind as you quickly scan the room once more. Dylan said that he was stepping out for a 5 minute smoke break 40 minutes ago. 

There's a part of you that doesn't want to give in. You don't mind being the one coworker that won't take on more tables than absolutely necessary. Especially when you were voluntold to switch job roles with someone you barely even know, and without even being told why.

If it wasn't so hard to find a job lately, you're pretty sure Amy’s management within itself would be enough encouragement for you to quit. But you really, really need the money. Despite the toxic work environment and occasional harassment from drunk citizens, this is the closest you've come to financial stability in years. You can’t afford to fuck it up.

A heavy exhale leaves you as you shift your feet. “Have you had a chance to look over the menu?” You ask, eying the man with distaste.

His grin widens. “No. What do you suggest?”

“Well, we offer a lot of stuff really. If you're in the mood for something more fulfilling, we have different stew dumplings. I'm not sure about your allergies though, most of the stews here are made with—”

“Surprise me,” Then he gives you another once over.

There is a part of you, a small part, that's tempted to reach across the table and rip out his eyes. You hate the feeling you experience when men unabashedly undress you with their eyes; especially when it’s from creepy old men. 

Even more so when said men don't know how to respect boundaries.

But you ignore the idea of doing such a thing. Instead, you turn on your heels and walk away.

Or, at least, you try to walk away. 

***

A tight grip wraps around your wrist, pulling so abruptly that you nearly fall over. It happens so fast that you barely register it. A breath, hot and pungent with liquor, travels across the base of your neck before meeting your nose. “You didn't ask me if I wanted anything to drink.” The man adds, voice low and gravelly.

Then more is happening...

And that's what makes you snap. 

Within seconds, you're reaching for your knife, which you had previously placed inside the pocket of your apron. 

A fire courses through your veins as you retract the blade.

“What the fuck!” The man yells, letting go of your wrist. He presses a palm against his right cheek, which now has a wide gash that is gushing with blood.

***

You don't give him time to say anything else. Your elbow comes in contact with his throat, jabbing his windpipe with as much force as possible. He staggers from the impact, landing with his back on top of the table behind him as he gasps for air.

Your knife, now dripping with his blood, digs into his chest. You hold it there, watching him wince when you apply pressure.

“If you ever so much as breathe in my direction again,” You mutter darkly. He’s squirming uncomfortably, a pool of blood soaking through his shirt as your knife continues to pierce his chest.

The pub has grown eerily silent and the heavy weight of countless eyes begins to register.

“I…I-I,” The man underneath splutters in shock. Beads of sweat gather around his forehead as he peers up at you through a cloud of fear. Thirty minutes ago, you’d have been surprised to find him roughed up by someone half his size, especially considering how large his biceps are. 

But then again, The Last Drop seems to be filling up with tons of useless goons nowadays.

“We’ll deal with him.” The voice that breaks your reverie is unrecognizable—feminine and raspy. 

That's when your head snaps up and you realize just how tense the atmosphere has become. Many citizens watch you silently, some mouths ajar while others look ready to egg you on. It's never really a typical Friday night at this place without people trying to drunkenly fight each other.

It's rare, though, that  employees become the main culprit.

Something moves closer to you—a person. “Hey, it's alright. I-”

Still on edge, you're quick to react. You inhale sharply, grip tightening around your knife with reflexes that feel like second nature.

A low growl fills the air, the sound of metal colliding with metal following soon after. Then your blade is being knocked out of your hand, something powerful grabbing both of your arms.

A flash of grey, the smell of cigarillo. Warmth. Undeniable warmth.

“Woah, it's just me." The voice is so close, yet so far away.

"Look-" Then... "Maxwell, I need you to come and help." The voice speaks again. This time even firmer. A woman’s voice. 

When your vision adjusts, you lock gazes with a pair of stormy grey irises. They're merely inches from yours, peering down at you with a gaze that is steady. 

That's when you realize that you can't move because she's practically towering over you. Holding you.

It’s Sevika.

You must have tried to attack her, clearly caught off guard. Surely, you hadn't meant to. For a split second, you lost it and now here she comes, seemingly out of nowhere. It was merely a reflex—a fight or flight response.

“It's me. Sevika," She announces, voice sharp as if she's trying to to speak through a wall. "I'm having them take him upstairs. He’ll be dealt with,” She repeats, almost as if it's a promise. She searches your eyes, grip loosening around your arms, “I’ll make sure of it.” She adds. Despite her expression being made of steel, there's something that flickers in her eyes. It appears only for a millisecond but it's glaring enough to somehow recenter you.

Her shoulders appear to relax when you start to feel present in the room again.

She waits for you to reply. And waits.

And waits.

And waits some more.

Then, “I can handle myself,” Is all that you manage to say. 

She stares at you for longer. You can see the gears in her brain shifting, but you aren't exactly sure of what to anticipate next, or even how to accept the fact that you just tried to attack your boss with a pocket knife.

“I’ve got her,” This time, the source is coming from someone familiar. Max. “It's okay,” He whispers, drawing closer. You feel him before you see him. The tips of his claw-like nails brush against your shoulders as he gingerly grabs a hold of you. 

Only then is when Sevika breaks your gaze, this time turning to Max. “Staff lounge.” The brute woman orders. 

“I’m fine.” You counter. 

The edge in your voice says otherwise.

“...Then I need you to grab Amy,” She continues, completely disregarding you. “I would like to know why we have a chef waiting tables during the busiest rush of the week—”

“I don’t need to go anywhere,” You press, voice raising a few decibels.

Sevika jaw’s clenches, icy eyes flickering towards you. “You nearly decapitated someone. You—”

“...I have four hours left. I will leave when my shift is complete.”

Her nose flares. “Lounge. Now.”

Before you can reply, she’s turning on her heels and walking away.

Unfortunately, Max agrees with Sevika.

It’s apparent in the way he immediately grabs your shoulders after her departure. Every citizen seems to be watching the entire escapade because this is the quietest you’ve ever heard the pub be during a rush hour.

“I’m fine!” You hiss, frustrated by the whole ordeal. You are perfectly capable of defending yourself. You don't need staff members to coddle you. “Seriously.”

Max doesn’t reply, merely huffing underneath his breath as he guides you past the bar and towards a back hallway that leads to another room. 

When the two of you have reached the lounge, he finally says, “You're shaking.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What?”

He leans forward, grabbing both of your hands,“ You're shaking.” He repeats, looking at you dead in the eyes. That's when he lets go and you peer down at your palms.

A frown spreads across your lips at the sight of your trembling fingers.

“You nearly killed the guy,” Max continues. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“It was only self-defense.”

“I'm not saying you were in the wrong,” A flicker of worry meets Max’s eyes. “That asshole deserves everything you did to him, probably more, But,” He winces. His gaze trails off to a distant place behind you. “Chef’s don’t usually do what you just did.”

Before you can reply to Max, the door flings open. In walks the petite redhead that you instantly knew to be Amy. She’s light on her feet, eyes alert and face flushed. At first, you’re surprised to see her in such a state. 

Shortly, though, Sevika enters the room. Then it all makes sense.

Sevika’s domineering in all aspects and has a ferocious air about her that can make anyone feel...tense. 

You thought she was the last of it, but another pair of footsteps walk-in behind her. 

“S-Sorry,” The person stammers, side stepping so they can scurry around Sevika and find a chair to sit in. The person is Dylan.

“This won't take long,” Sevika announces. She seems annoyed, not even looking at anyone else in the room. “Starting tomorrow, nothing about tonight will be brought up again. Now, Amy.” She turns to Amy, who instantly shrinks in her chair. “Why wasn't Janessa on the floor tonight?”

There's a beat of hesitation before, “She's working the kitchen now.”

Sevika’s nose flares. “If you moved her because of last week, I want you to think over your explanation very carefully.”

Another beat drags. Amy blinks. She gapes. She blinks once more. Her cheeks are tomato red at this point. “I-”

Sevika presses on. “Did Silco somehow change his mind?” 

“...No.”

“So you deliberately went against Silco’s orders and switched Janessa to the kitchen. Meanwhile,” Sevika’s eyes flicker to you. Your stomach lurches. “You make our only competent chef work the floor, after I told you that she isn't up for debate. And you expect me to show you mercy?”

Amy doesn't answer. She's on the verge of tears, which shocks you.

Amy is a bitch.

She’s known for brutally reaming people for simply breathing wrong. She doesn’t hold back and she doesn’t mind doing it in front of customers either. You know her to be stone cold. Heartless. Void of compassion and depth.

You never thought that you’d see the day where she’d get her ass handed to her.

Sevika turns to you, face filled with hard lines and calculating orbs. She stares at you for a few moments. You don't quite understand if she’s sizing you up or mentally chastising you. But you wait for her to fully collect her thoughts.

“If anyone touches you like that again,” She slowly begins, voice low. “You do what needs to be done. Whatever that means to you. Do you understand?” 

Your muscles freeze at her words.

No questioning? No reprimands?

“You aren't mad?” You clear your throat.

You were fully expected to get reamed for tonight.

Sevika raises an eyebrow, “Do you want me to be?”

Heat spreads across your body. You don't answer her question, deciding to move on. “Does Silco know about tonight?”

She grows more perplexed, “Do you want Silco to know?”

In the corner of your eye, you watch how stiff the rest of the staff members become. The room is so quiet that you nearly hear a pin drop.

It’s obvious that Silco finding out about this would cause a shit show.

Sevika takes your silence as an answer. 

“None of this will be mentioned again after tonight.” She breaks eye contact and turns to the rest of the room. “Is that clear?”

Everyone nods.

“And Dylan?”

Dylan jumps at the sound of his name. “Huh? I mean, yes? Y-Yes, ma’am?”

“If you disappear for that long again, you won't have a job to come back to.”

“Yes, ma’am. I-I mean,” Dylan blinks with swimming eyes. “Sorry.”

Sevika chooses then to shove her human hand into her pocket, glancing at you once more. When she retracts it, you notice that there is something shiny and silver that she's holding.

Your knife.

Silently, she holds it towards you. 

When your feet stay planted—brain struggling to process everything that's happening—she exhales heavily, evidently becoming impatient.

Clearing your throat, you force yourself to close the distance. You grab your knife, knuckles grazing her palm, which ignites a static shock. Your fingers jump away from her instantly. If the skin contact startled her, her face doesn’t give it away.

“Thank you,” Is all that you say. You hate how vulnerable you sound.

She merely nods. Then, “He's upstairs, by the way. Definitely suffering from what you did to him but not harmed any further." She pauses, rubbing her lips together. "Did you want to come upstairs? It's your call on how you would like him to be handled."

You eyes widen at the realization.

She took him upstairs to do god know what (everyone knows that if Sevika takes you upstairs for any other reason than discussing business, then you probably aren't coming back down). You'd never thought she would include employees in such a thing.

Even with a matter such as this.

"I'll give you ten minutes to think about it," She continues on. "If you decide to come upstairs, he'll be waiting. Otherwise, go home. Tomorrow you'll return to the kitchen.” Then she turns on her heels, adding, “Amy, I expect your desk to be cleaned out by midnight.” Before she walks away. 

In the midst of her departure, your eyes begin to burn. 

Max and Dylan are already stepping out of the room, completely shaken up by the entire situation.

Being reprimanded by Sevika is never on anyone’s bucket list.

You idle there for a while, letting all of the events replay in your mind as your muscles start to unspool. Fidgeting with your knife, you allow the blade to extend. That’s when you notice that his blood has been cleaned off and your blade sharpened.

Amy wails pathetically while curling into herself. 

Her cries are nothing more than brown noise at this point. You're too preoccupied by the hammering of your heart, and the way that Sevika’s words have tattooed themselves onto your hippocampus:

If anyone touches you like that again, you do what needs to be done.

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

You decide to sleep on the couch after an argument

love and deepspace

characters: Zayne, Sylus (pt2 with Rafayel and Xavier here)

note: they might be a little mischaracterized so bear with me.

Zayne

Usually, arguments with Zayne don’t get this heated. There was no yelling, not on his part at least, but he could be really cold with his words when he wanted to be. Not that you were any better. Some things you said hurt him to no end. So you came up with a decision - to sleep on a couch tonight. To be honest, it was more because to be petty, than not wanting to spend a night beside him. You gathered your pillow and blanket and got comfortable on the couch, which made Zayne sigh out loud when he entered the room.

“What is this?”

You turned your back to him as an answer. Another sigh comes out of his mouth. He’s exhausted, physically and emotionally, and you acting like a brat doesn’t ease anything at all.

“I know you’re mad, dear but is this necessary?”

No answer.

“Alright”

He left the room and before you could convince yourself that you didn’t care he was back with a blanket of his own and took a seat in an armchair. You turn your head towards him in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“I guess we’re not sleeping in bed tonight”

“I’m not. You can go”

“I believe I didn’t stutter”

You scoffed and turned around again.

“suit yourself”

Minutes pass and sleep doesn’t come to you. Whether it’s because of an uncomfortable couch or an absence of his arms around you is hard to say, but after turning around thousands of times and still not being able to sleep is frustrating.

Finally, Zayne had enough of watching your struggle.

“How about we go to bed?”

“No” came your response after a second of hesitation. With a small amused smile on his face, he hovered over the couch.

“What do you say… I take you to bed and you can curse me out for it tomorrow?”

You shifted a little but didn’t answer, which made his smile widen. He gathered you in his arms and your lack of objection was all he needed to take you to your room and tucking you in bed. Even though you seemed to warm up he didn’t know how far he could push you, so kneeling beside the bed to be on your eye level he started:

“If you still need space I can-”

“Stay”

He smiled at you tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Okay”

He got up and kissed your forehead before slipping in beside you and pulling you closer.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter

"Shh, we'll talk about it tomorrow... but I'm sorry too"

You smile a little. You two will sort this out tomorrow.

Sylus

What Sylus says, goes around. His word is the law. This is what he’s used to. That's how it's always been.

Then you came into his life and even though he’s still in charge of how things go in the N109 zone, you just need to say the word and everything will be how you like it. No questions, no hesitation. He would give you the world if you so much as whispered the need. Whatever you want, whatever you need, he will make it happen.

Unless, when it comes to your safety. Now don’t get me wrong. Sylus knows you can defend yourself and then some. But when it comes to the N109 zone, there are things Sylus knows better than you. Additionally, The fact that you can be reckless in your battles does nothing to help ease his worries.

That was the reason for the heated argument tonight. Sylus with his harsh words and snarky remarks always finds a way to infuriate you. So you two go on and on for half an hour now and none of you seems to back down. You storm off to your room and take your things to get comfortable on the couch. However, on your way out Sylus blocks your way. He raises an eyebrow at the blanket and pillow in your arms.

“Now, what exactly do you think you are doing, sweetie?”

“move”

“I asked you a question”

“I’m not sleeping beside you- Sylus” you exclaim as he hoists you over his shoulder. you punch and scratch his back but to no avail.

“Careful with your claws, kitten”

He drops you on the bed climbing over you.

“Now listen, this is what will happen. You will stop acting like a wild kitten and sleep beside me. I am sorry for hurting you but we will discuss it tomorrow, when we are both a lot calmer. Understood?”

You don’t want to give in so easily. You also don’t want to sleep without him tonight. So you nod avoiding eye contact. He, however, doesn’t accept it and raises your chin with his finger to make you look at him.

“Use your words, sweetie”

“Yes”

“Splendid” He removed himself from you so you could get under the blanket. He laid beside you and pulled you closer so your head was resting on his chest.

"Sy... I'm sorry too"

"So I'm Sy now?"

This man.

"Nevermind, you're still a prick"

You try to remove his arm but he holds you tighter as he laughs.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry, sweetie"

You felt him kiss the crown of your head as he caressed your shoulder with his thumb. you return to your previous position and listening to his heartbeat, sleep lured you in soon enough.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

In Season

alastor x doe! femreader

no but really this is actually so depraved and smutty i cannot believe myself i hope yall enjoy the feast xx

Summary: You were aquatinted with hell for quite some time and you quickly learned as much as you could about mating season to protect yourself from other deer sinners. Although you came across the hotel and neither you nor Alastor could resist each other, and your instincts.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, female anatomy- no pronouns, no descriptions of bodytype/skin colour/hair type, heavy breeding kink, female masturbation briefly, penetration, squirting, creampie, horrorish aspects predator n prey, ‘in heat’ trope, OOC alastor bc y’know sex, general vulgarity, brief mention of blood, swearing, not proofread, LEMME KNOW WHAT I MISSED

Word count: 5K

You’ve been in Hell several years, and at first it was a little jarring. Especially since you now had hooves, a tail, a black scent-sensitive nose, and soft floppy ears. Honestly it was amusing getting used to your new body while dodging sinners hungry for new meat, you reminisced on your first days of hell often, as they were the most exciting.

But now you were more aware, you’d spent a majority of your time in hell assessing and attempting to understand the whole eternal damnation thing- after all you weren’t much of a believer in hell when alive. You kept atop all the sinners that were of note, the different sectors of the pentagram, the overlords as well as their strengths and weaknesses that coincides with their demonic form, you also paid close attention to all the rings of hell and their sins. You’d even grown interested in the hellbors and imps, never imagining how birth and life things that was supposed to be god's gift, ended up breeding in such a foul place like hell.

Most demons spawned into hell with some sort of form be it an object like a television, a prop like a doll, a toy such as a jack in the box, or more commonly an animal. Most humans found themselves attached to animals anyways which made sense as to why many showed up as one, as well as why it wasn't surprising to see many dogs and cats as a common form in hell. During your investigative research, you ran into a few.. hurdles.

Bucks, mating seasons. It seemed like all animal life here was cursed with some sort of violent mating season. Where all that sinners could think about doing was mating. Bucks had been your biggest issue in hell, you found it pretty simple to ignore mating seasons, focusing your mind anywhere but the burning in your pelvis, but the bucks would storm around looking for the smell of the doe near them.

It’s a pain in the ass and you always had your calendars marked, alarms and reminders set, as to not forget that mating season was coming and you needed to take precautions.

Besides the chase the bucks would give you every year, you had it pretty easy in hell, you published on a blog your findings marketing it to new sinners in hell, kind of like a guide to hell, and that kept your bills paid and your mind occupied.

~

Walking down the road in the pentagram city with the intentions of snapping some pictures of some of the expected violence in hell, you gazed along the different brick walls and shops, shopping with your eye at times. You came by yet another brick wall, this one littered with taped up signs, your paced slowed as your eyes rapidly moved across the words on different pages.

There were varying signs, one for resale value drugs, IMP immediate murder professionals, and Charlie Morningstars Hazbin Hotel. Pausing your stride you went up to the wall getting a closer look at the shitty drawn piece of paper, there was several different… characters, on it very poorly drawn. You recognize Charlie’s name of course, you’d often see her roaming around the pride ring actually, unlike her father who you never saw.

Pulling out your phone you snapped a picture of the sign and decided to take a trip down to that side of the pentagram to check out this hotel. It’s definitely quite the story to be told that’s for sure.

You made left, rights, had to take cover for thirty minutes while some sinners duked it out shooting up a whole block, then you tried to hail down a cab- failed and trudged for the longest time to the hotel. It was so much further than you anticipated but everytime you felt like turning back you told yourself you were almost there which got you to the door of the hotel, by the end of the day however.

Knocking on the giant doors you didn’t know whether to walk in like you would a hotel, or wait for a guide. Tapping your fingers against your thighs you’re suddenly hit with strong arousal that clawed suddenly at your abdomen.

Bringing your phone up from your pocket you checked the date, you knew the season was changing and autumn was here but you didn’t have any issues with buck recently so you didn’t really have to worry. You did confirm mating season was in progress, with the conformations laying within the calendar, but it shouldn’t have been a problem, unless there is a buck inside the hotel.

Suddenly the door flew open and you were pulled away from your contemplation by a high pitched, giddy voice tugging your attention toward it. “Oh my gosh, hi! I’m Charlie! Come in! Are you here for the hotel!” The blonde rambled quickly, tugging you in by your wrist.

The hotel was weirdly homey, you could tell that there were different personalities that occupied the space, different colours of reds decorated, random items littered around the room like stiletto boots by the door, a large pile of needles in a corner, the bar seemed to be its own aesthetic design. It was comfortably warm and smelt like an active fireplace, as well as something so strong and musky it made your legs inadvertently clench.

You attempt to hold your instincts inside but this wasn’t like any other buck you’ve smelt before- it made you ravenous. Pulling yourself together while Charlie spoke about the hotel you pondered what you’d say, you could exactly be like, is there a male buck here because i’m horny as fuck.

No. Smiling to Charlie tiredly, you finally ready yourself to give her the explanation. “This place really is lovely, I didn’t actually come to be a patron but maybe write something about it for the little blog thing i have.” You felt jittering and lightheaded as you spoke, your eyes scanning the room and ears pulled back. “Uhm would it be okay to stay for a night?”

Charlie perked up clasping her hands together nodding eagerly. “Of course to both~!” She sang out happily. “I am so glad some people are interested! Who knows, maybe after a day you’ll wanna stay!” She exclaimed, twirling around happily.

You smiled at her optimism and you were genuinely happy that the princess of hell was such a breath of fresh air in the smog filled hell you all lived in. “Do you want me to show you around? Meet our staff and guests?” Charlie asked, a glimmer of hope and excitement sparkling in her eye. You took a brief moment to ponder before nodding your head. “I think that would be perfect, then though would i be able to rest, the walk fucked my hooves.” You say tapping the tip of your booted hoof against the floor.

Interlocking your elbows Charlie nodded, dragging you toward the bar. “Of course you can, I'll end our tour with your room, but let me begin it with Husk! Our loyal bartender!” Walking toward the bar you’d spotted early on, the cat demon turned his head ever so slightly toward you. “Hi,” The alcoholic said flatly, Charlie laughed nervously, but you didn’t really mind his demeanour you preferred short and to the point.

“Hey Husk, nice to meet you.” The cat grunted at you, and gave you a sorta glare. “Another deer. Course it fuckin is.” Husk muttered to himself bitterly, Charlie scolded him under her breath, before turning to you with a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. “He’s sweet once ya get to know him. Heh, anyways c’mon lets meet Angel!”

After about thirty minutes of running around you met all but one of the members residing within the hotel. As you skipped around the hotel you entirely forgot about the low grade heat buzzing between your legs, you were used to it after all, and you enjoyed yourself a lot, confessing to Charlie that you particularly enjoyed the rambunctious Nifty and flirty Angel.

“Alright, the last person of note is one of the most important. He’s been assisting in the hotel basically since the start, half of it wouldn’t be possible without him.” Charlie explained walking up to a door, on it had two different do not disturb signs. A large wood one nailed right on the door, and a second hanging off the handle.

Charlie picked the sign from its hanging position humming while examining it. “He’s never had these before.” She muttered, voice filled with confusion, however you were lost in a daze. This was the smell you could pick up down stairs, he must’ve been a buck, there wasn’t any other way.

The scent was pungent, nearly knocking you off your heels with arousal, it was musky, something only described as sweaty and primal. The natural hormones of the demon beyond the door were unlike anything you’ve experienced before; it was like he was a starved man, hungrier than ever and more than ready to breed.

It was dirty and you felt embarrassed at the reaction you were having, typically you had a low hum and no real desire to attempt to have sex with one of the many deer demons who came after you so this was a bit of a new experience. And it was nearly painful, you don’t even know the guy and yet it felt like you were being consumed by him.

“Hm, wait here I’ll go ask Nifty! She normally knows the most,” Charlie drifted off tilting her head at you. “You okay there?” She asked nervously, you promptly nod at that, inwardly cursing yourself for not being more controlled. “Yeah,” You quickly clear your throat trying to play off the lust filled tone for a dry throat. “Yes,” You say with more conviction. “Sorry it’s been a long day. Before you head off, would this guy happen to also be a deer?”

Charlie grinned super wide, purely whites on display. “He is! Best for last! I think you two will be happy to have each other haha,” She chuckled a little awkwardly, brushing her hair behind her ear. She shook her head, swiftly bidding you ado and walking off to find Nifty.

You waited a moment listening for anything down the halls, but you didn’t hear anything anywhere, and you couldn’t see anybody around, nor could you see cameras hidden in the corner. Walls crashing down, heart rate naturally kicking up; you unbuttoned your pants, spreading your legs and slipping your hand down your pants.

You whimpered at the contact of your cold fingers to your clit, feeling the sticky sensation of arousal cover the bit of thigh that your underwear didn’t touch. You soaked yourself just by the smell of the deer on the other side of the door. You slipped your middle finger and ring finger down, coating your fingers entirely before slipping them into you, curling them as you did.

You inhaled deeply resting your free arm against the door above your head for you to lean forward on, you didn’t have the intentions of fucking your self in the hall, but one thrust turned into three. Now you’re dripping, gasping for air and trying to keep yourself quiet when all you wanted to do was collapse and beg whoever occupied the other side of the door to please fuck the neediness out of you.

As you quickened your pace, your body quivered from the uncomfortable position, but you halted everything when you heard the unmistakable sound of a radio on the other side of the door. It was a gritty sound, garbled with no real sound coming out of it, just strange static. You tried to catch your breath as you listened closely, checking your left and right speedily ro assure you were still alone.

Suddenly the doorknob shifted the door falling open under your weight. Your legs stuttered attempting to catch your body, hand whipping out from inside you, slick and sticky with your arousal as if you were some whore. Unfortunately you weren’t able to catch yourself fast enough but lessened the brunt of the fall with your knees before your hands came down to finish. You were still in a blitzed out haze, but the room was pitch black, the only sound that could be heard was an ambient sound of nature and the faintest sound of the radio.

The only light that you were blessed with was the hall light from the opened door behind you. You could barely make out deer heads hung on the wall and a red couch before the door snapped shut leaving you alone in the darkness.

You whimpered, clenching your legs and your teeth, you could still hear the radio but it sounded like it was seriously messed up, switching stations, pitches and incorporating sounds you’d never heard from a radio, like growls and deep rumblings.

Your fear mixed with desire and the smell of lust was far more palpable in this room. It was so much harder to ignore the scent and the smell of the buck who was definitely worked up in this room. “What a depraved little doe you are.” You jumped at the voice, nothing like you expected. He sounded wicked, dark, and surprisingly, hornier than you.

You could now hear him in the room with you, his deep pants, the footsteps around, you swear you could’ve heard him accidentally hit his antler against something as well, it was like he just materialised. “What’re you doing out of bed so late? You do know how filthy bucks can be this time of year, don’t you.”

You yelped as two bright red eyes appeared just a few feet in front of you, either this guy was crouched or contorted as you never stood from the floor. As his eyes got closer to you, his being consumed you entirely, as it dawned on you that he was crawling toward you like a goddamn animal.

“Sorry.” You meekly whimpered, tilting your head back ever so slightly, neck on display for him. He let out a baritone chuckle, shocking you slightly, before he replaced that shock with a new-by pouncing on top of you.

He brought his face closer to yours, the crazily dialed eyes of his illuminating your face enough for him to properly see and observe your face. You however only got brief glimpses of a strained yellow smile, and messy red hair that stuck to his face from sweat. You could feel his body heat against you making your own body feel hotter by the second, his right hand sat above your head, his other grabbed ahold of the wrist that moments ago was deep inside you.

One of his knees sat outside of your body by your thigh, while the other knee occupied the inner thigh too close to your core for comfort, or perhaps not close enough. All you knew is this deer was one of the horniest you’ve ever come across, his breath was erratic chest heaving, breath tickling your face and neck, his eyes were blown and obviously a firey red bright enough to add a horror-esque ambience.

You could feel the strain he had against his suit pants, it was hard not to when in the position he took he was straddling one of your thighs. He gripped your hand harder bringing it up to his face, your heart pounding in your ribcage as you watched motionlessly.

He groaned at the sight of your still wet fingers, his smile stretching just slightly as his eyes momentarily closed. Then his mouth opened, as did his eyes, teasingly he opened his mouth bringing your fingers up to him, before he took a hold with his mouth swirling his long tongue around your digits. You whined, closing your eyes at the feeling, the way he did it was not just in an attempt to be pornographic but to properly taste you, coating his taste buds with your arousal. Pulling his mouth away with an exasperated groan, he dragged his sharp teeth along your flesh, leaving tiny cuts that exuded just enough blood to satiate his desire.

He pulled himself away properly, saliva stringing as he did. You peaked your eyes open, as suddenly a feeling of being sucked into the floor consumed you and you felt like screaming. Though it all happened too fast that you weren’t able to squeak anything out; the floor sucked you in and within seconds spit you out. Gently your body bounced against soft velvet comforters on what you assumed was a bed- his bed. Still surrounded by only the blackened room, the buck nowhere you could see, you sat there heart pounding, bewildered, scared and horny, a unique combination to be fair.

“Tell me, my dear doe. When was the last time you gave into such, primal desires?” The man’s voice appeared before he did, sliding up beside you from the shadows. “Never.” You whisper looking into his deepened red eyes. “I am so sorry. I avoid bucks, I came for business- I didn’t- god i’m sorry i couldn’t help myself- you fuckin,” You threw your head back groaning in frustration, feeling embarrassed to admit you were just about willing to do anything he said if it meant he spread you out and bred you.

He chuckled demonically, his hand sticking out to you. “Alastor, sweetheart, pleasure to meet you, quite, the pleasure.” Alastor’s radio voice lowered and he purred to you so sultry that you clenched your thighs together. Grasping his larger clawed hand that he had stuck out, you shook him tightly enjoying the warmth and contact. “YN, pleasure to meet you too.”

Gently pulling his hand away, Alastor inched his way closer to you, leaning over he placed his hand on the other side of your torso seemingly trying to resume the position he held on the floor. “I could smell you enter the hotel, you know. I keep myself away every season and no other passer by, has been an issue. So what is it that you’ve done my dear,” Alastor questioned accusingly while dragging a claw up your neck and getting back to being on top of you.

Alastor felt like he couldn’t help himself, he felt a yearning for sex he’d not felt ever, sure there’s been the occasional session with his hand on a particularly trying mating season, but never real feral need like this. He wanted to leave his mark on you, and keep all those other foul deer demons that may attempt to take their claim on you in the future.

Growling radio admission and static echoed throughout the room, Alastor promptly closed the inches between your bodies, gently collapsing on top of you. Alastor dragged his tongue up your neck from your collar to your jaw line, ending his travel with an opened mouth kiss. You whimpered at the sensation of his body against you clutching his shirt, as he nipped at your neck with his sharp teeth drawing blood.

His thigh was pressed against your core with the way he leant down on you, and you wondered if he could feel how you were pulsing desperately begging him to fill you. Against your will you jerked up grinding yourself into him, causing him to groan at the own pleasure he got from the friction. Alastor then pulled away entirely looking down at you, then a gentle red light flickered on, then another, and finally a third, lighting the room up with a reddish glow.

You weren’t focused on how, or where the light came from, but rather the man in front of you. You had no clue it was Alastor, as in thee overlord Alastor, although you should’ve put it together based on all the radio feedback that sounded from out of him. Of course you knew of him from your research but he’d been gone when you came down so you easily forgot him.

Alastor was dishevelled, without a suit coat, just a button up and his suit pants, his hair was a mess as you briefly saw before, but man oh man did he look a wreck. He was sweaty, his antlers were out on full display, his eyes lidded.

“I had no idea you were a deer.” You say eyeing him up and down, he chuckled at that. “So you know of me?” The question, you might almost say, sounded uncertain, perhaps before with the lights off lended the two of you a comfortable anonymity that you don’t have anymore. Nodding your head you can’t help but attempt to gain some friction between your legs. “Darling if you truly want this as much as I, then I'd be more than happy to satiate the hunger for both of us- so long as we see to a date and several others after. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with another deer after me.”

Although this formal speech was out of place for your current predicament you looked past it because you wouldn’t mind this being more than a one time hook up. “Of course, I hate one night stands.” Smiling at him, his smile softened compared to its harsher one before. Alastor moved in, this time you were able to watch him in the dim light, leaning back fully and off your elbows, you got comfortable on the soft pillow that kept you somewhat propped up.

You wanted your hands free to touch him, and hold him. When his face was inches from you, lips barely touching, your hands came up to play with his hair. You go cautiously hearing rumours about the distaste he has for contact he doesn’t initiate, however the moment your hands connect to his hot neck, he moans, pushing himself down to connect to your lips.

He smiled through, as you expected him to, but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had, purely based on how intense he was once he finally got a taste of you. You just barely opened your mouth before his tongue was escaping his mouth to explore yours, it was a searing kiss one that was unique to anything before. His body once again lowered as he relaxed on top of you, most of his weight rested on you, which you loved the feeling of it was like he was encasing you with him.

You could feel the stiff hard on that ached to be freed, and his uneven breaths that expanded his chest further into yours, like a tide your chests pushed and pulled each other in and out. It was erotic, and as your make out session dragged on the messier it got, teeth scraping tongues fighting, saliva glistening on the perimeter of both of your mouths. Your hands dug into his hair occasionally touching his long antlers that were out, and everytime you did he’d moan statically into your mouth.

Alastor cared little about his poise and instead chased his own pleasure as his mouth entangled with yours, you were receptive and as needy as he was, so he felt no shame when he started to hump himself against your core. He took even more pleasure in hearing you whine for more, bucking up into him. You buttons were still undone from earlier which made him feel a sense of anger he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be the one to make you come undone, he wish he could’ve gotten to you before you fucked yourself against his door.

So with a new goal in the demons mind, he snaked his arm in between your bodies, him needing to lift himself a bit to do so, and snuck his hand down you pants straight to your soaking wet core. Gasping at the contact you jerked up into his hand, his fingers sliding down the length of you leaving no area untouched.

“Impatient?” Alastor mocked pulling away finally, although he was in no place to, as even the simplest word came out jagged and out of breath. “Alastor please,” You begged unable to stop the way you jerked up into the warmth of his hand.

With contemplative hum Alastor halted all movement making you groan. It was unbearable to put up with, perhaps the foreplay of it all would be more enjoyable if it wasn’t such a painful lust you were in. Snapping his fingers, cool washed over your body like freezer air, and soon you realized you were left bare.

You jumped curling into yourself afraid of being so suddenly exposed. Looking up you were surprised to find the overlord himself nude with you, the comforter that once laid flat underneath you now pulled up behind him. Leaning forward blanket following in suit behind him, you simply stared at him, the markings on his body, the fact he had two tone skin, and of course the more obvious aspect of his body, the fact he was hung.

Covering the two of you under the safety of the blanket, Alastor pulled your legs apart gently, body slotting back where it’s supposed to be in between your legs. “You’re devine torture my dear. Attempting to be somewhat gentlemenly in a state like this, when you’re so desperate, is absolute torture.” Alastor grit out, his static gone as he struggled against the animalistic urge to dive into you.

Breathing out a breath you had no clue you were holding, you begged him pressing your body up into his. Thoughtlessly you reached down between you two, wrapping your legs around his torso to nudge him closer, and slowly you wrapped your fingers around him making him almost robotically crackle.

Giving him a few awkward strokes, due to your position, you guided him towards your entrance that needed no prep, with how you pulsed aching, and dripped greedily you weren’t too worried about pain.

Alastor barely took your guidance, as once you stroked him a twig snapped, when you lined him up to your entrance, he jerked forward plunging into you rather harshly causing your body to jolt. A heat shot through your body crawling down your pelvis straight to your toes, while your jaw hung open, unable to make the noise. Alastors radio was popping and crackling as he fucked into you, grinding his body against your own, he was pouring himself into you as fast as he could and for him it still wasn’t fast enough.

Meanwhile you were still attempting to catch up, your brain hazily lagging behind as your body jerked along with every thrust. You could feel yourself dripping down the length of him, the wet slapping of skin was just more indication you were practically a faucet. Reaching upward to grab onto his neck, it was your turn to growl viciously, loving the way his eyes and smile looked in this fucked out haze.

Grinning at him you tilted your head back, eyes closed at the insane pace Alastor was attempting. “Fuck Al, just like that please don’t fuckin stop,” You moan spreading your legs further apart so your clit was more exposed to his flesh that came slapping down.

One of his hands grasped your neck lightly squeezing, you clenched in tandem with his choking, absolutely loving the feeling of him having you at his mercy. “Who knew such a sweet face would be so, filthy.” Alastor said through a toothy smile his radio voice was gone only leaving his strained raw vocals.

You let out wails of pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress, before you roughly pulled Alastors head down forcing him to give you a kiss. Your tongues met before your lips did as neither of you were going in for gentle but rather a greedy taste of one another.

Alastor moaned and whimpered more when kissing you seemingly without hesitation, making you feel closer to the edge then before. Arching your body up you clawed Alastors back begging him, tears threatening to spill and the feeling of need. “Please Alastor, please fuck- so good it’s gonna- i’m gonna cum- Al don’t stop,” You cried loudly stumbling over what you wanted to say as you felt hot all over.

Above you Alastor could barely hold on, his forehead rested against you as you cried, wailing for him to fuck you begging for him to make you cum, and he knew from how you cried for him, ge was gonna. He also knew he wasn’t far himself feeling as you clenched and leaked all over the bed, it was disgusting and he loved it. Your skin stuck to his as his body came crashing down on yours legs too shaky to hold him himself up, but his pace didn’t let up all that much still forcing himself deep into you, marking every inch of you.

You screamed, clawing his back wrapping your arms around him as you convulsed. You whined about how it was so good how hard you were coming but it got mixed up in his mind as he focused on the violent gushes of liquid that rushed out of you. It seemed your orgasm kept being pulled out as you continued to gush around him making him bellow out his own praises of how good you felt, how glad he was you were coming on his cock and making a wet mess of his bed.

Alastor was ravenous as he used your cunt to milk him of everything he had trying hard to get himself as deep as possible in you. Meanwhile you continued to moan and whine at him your orgasm still pushing on gushes is liquid squirting out of you as your sentive mating body wanted more, wanted to be bred and was ready to hold out to do so.

And bred it was, Alastor bit onto you as he came, loving the feeling of filling you to the brim, it wasn’t anything he’d done or felt before. You groaned, smiling wickedly and you hungrily kissed up his neck pulling his ear with your teeth, whispering to him about how badly you wanted to be filled with his cum, eyes rolling back as he stilled in you finally.

Your body ceased a bit before his movement ceased, It was all insanely animalistic. Now as Alastor laid on top of you, still inside you, you felt the post nut clarity truly hit you. You were still in a lustful haze, however you’d never been that much with a man, nevermind one you haven’t properly met. Although you didn’t mind, as you dragged your fingers through his sweaty hair you reminded yourself he wanted to see you more, not just use you.

Taking a deep breath, Alastor enjoyed the smell of your skin and the doe pheromones you naturally let off. In the back of his mind twisted questions that he couldn’t bother trying to answer. His head laid under your chin, face between your breasts dazed and staring off into space. You cautiously traced your fingers up his ears, his antlers fell in size back to little sticks. His ears twitched but he made no remark as you gently played with them.

“Do you regret it?” You broke the silence with the nasty feeling of worry in your gut, worry that you messed up, worried you both made a mistake. Alastor let out a long hum, his radio frequencies back in action as he did. “No dear not at all. Lust or not I was certain about my decision. I had the strength to hold back when I heard you on the other side of the door but I didn’t want to.” Alastor admits still a little coy is his delivery.

Although he did a very good job at assuring you because any doubt you had vanished. It was a vulnerable time for the both of you, during mating season, that having the knowledge that he still could’ve kept control, kept himself on the other side of the door but instead choose to claim you, yeah made your heart and mind content.

[jenscx]

LOVE ME BACK — yu jimin

after a nasty breakup with your boyfriend of two years, you find solace in a bar and a mystery woman’s arms. you were convinced it was just a one time thing. yet, you didn’t expect to see her again at your workplace.

TAGS — fluff, lowk crack, suggestive themes, mentions of sex and alcohol, ceo!rina, office au, reader has a boyfriend (at first), hwang hyunjin as plot device, mentions of cheating, probably a hr violation, jealousy, hidden relationship, cursing

WORDCOUNT — 10.3k

when you were younger, your dream was to be an astronaut. now in your early twenties, you’ve succumbed to the average 9-5 job that every adult hates. your job was a pain in the neck, figuratively and literally. staring at a computer all day was tough work, but if you said that out loud, you would seem like a lunatic.

your hands dance bleakly across the keyboard, fingers tapping insistently to finish the report. maybe you would even get home on time today. a vibration from your phone distracts your focus, a message from your boyfriend.

staring at the notification, you sigh and pick up your phone to text back. it’s a chain of messages, ranging from urgent calls to angry scoldings. your eyes narrow as a call comes in, displaying, hyun ♡.

“hyunjin oppa,” you whisper, “i’m at work.”

“you’re still at work? i thought i told you that my sister’s visiting today? my mum’s cooking for you.”

groaning internally, you reply softly, “i’m really sorry but this report will probably take half an hour more. tell unnie and auntie i’ll be late.”

hyunjin’s voice rings through the phone, irritated, “i told you about it. did you forget or are you just not willing to spend time with my family?”

“i didn’t forget, seriously, and you know i love your family and your mum’s cooking.”

that’s kind of a lie. you weren’t really welcomed with his family. his mother had objected to your relationship from the get go. his father was cold and indifferent. his sister was the only one who actually talked to you. but his mother’s cooking was good.

“you’re prioritising your work over spending time with me,” hyunjin states.

“i made this clear from the start,” you pinch your nose bridge, “my job always comes first.”

his annoyed tone shines through, bright as day, “i don’t get why you’re still working at that firm. i can provide for the both of us.”

you sigh, frustrated at hyunjin’s insolence.

“i enjoy this job,” a lie, “i don’t want to just stay in my apartment all day with nothing to do and i worked hard to get here.” true.

“that’s why you should just move in with me.” with that mother of his? no way in hell.

“i like my apartment,” you say firmly, glancing at the unfinished report open, “oppa, if you’re just going to scold me, at least do it later. i’m working now.”

“you’re always working. how can you work so much? y/n, are you preoccupied with something else? or someone?”

anger bubbles lowly in your veins.

“what on earth are you saying?”

“i’m saying that you may be busy with someone. whatever, if you’re always working, let’s just end things here. i can’t always be waiting for you at home.”

“you don’t make time for me either. on my off-days, you always hang out with your friends. how many dates have you cancelled?”

“i’m sorry i have a social life. my life doesn’t revolve around spending time with you. if you have a problem with it, let’s break up.”

you roll your eyes. you would be amused at how a 24 year old would think so irrationally, if that 24 year old wasn’t breaking up with you right now. your hand forms a fist on the table. maybe hyunjin was fine with lazing around at home, letting his mother serve him like a maid. but you weren’t. hyunjin didn’t have any ambitions, dropping out of college after his first year, claiming it was too difficult. you had only cooed at him gently, his first and only year at college was when you met him and started dating.

“fine. let’s break up as you wish. ask yeji unnie to pack my things at your house, i’ll pick it up—”

the call ends abruptly, you’re baffled at his childish antics. groaning, you throw your head into your hands. was your two year relationship really ending here? over a phone call? tossing your phone to the side, you perk up, determined to take your mind off your boyfriend. you still had a job to do after all.

yet, the thought of losing the two years you’ve spent with hyunjin makes you frown. he wasn’t a bad boyfriend. he was a nice guy, most of the time. he was a man after all, he had his stupid moments. spending two years with him meant that some part of you actually liked him. maybe not to the extent of love. you’ve never thought about it.

is that why he broke up with you? because you weren’t in it for love? was hwang hyunjin just another guy for you to past time with? if you couldn’t find love with a guy like hyunjin, who’s good looking and well-mannered, who could you find love with? were you some emotionless robot who didn’t care for others’ feelings?

forcefully removing these persisting questions from your head, you focus on the report. missing fabric, wrong dimensions, plagiarised designs, what was wrong with this fashion company?

“sunbae, still not clocking out?” kim minjeong, the new intern and coincidentally, your junior from high school, peeks above your computer. you shake your head, smiling sheepishly at her, “don’t call me sunbae, I’m ms seo right now.”

minjeong pouts, “sorry, i’m just not used to it. and you’re only like, a year older. want me to wait for you?”

you eye the report with distain, grimacing, “it’s okay, minjeong. you can go first, i think this will take a long time.”

the younger girl nods and quickly leaves. you’ve never wished you were someone else so badly before. your eyes follow minjeong from her cubicle to the lift. you slap your cheeks, willing yourself to focus.

after a few excruciating long hours, you clap your hands merrily, eyes gleaming with excitement and happiness. the stupid report was finally finished! you hum happily as you pack up your things. once you had picked up your bag, a notification graces your phone.

swiping up, it’s a text from yeji, warning you that hyunjin had left the house urgently. concerned, but not panicking, you reply saying that maybe he went out for fresh air. yeji’s next few messages are about how their mother is blaming you for hyunjin’s bad mood.

whatever. you can’t find it in yourself to care.

still overjoyed by the fact you had finished the mundane report, you head down to the lobby, grinning. a few employees who were still there eyed you weirdly but you brushed them off. today was a good day, despite stupid hyunjin.

as the doors open, you bring out your phone. no new messages from hyunjin or yeji. maybe it was partially your fault for making promises you couldn’t keep. ugh. the late night graces your presence, streets filled with busy cars. you check the time, 8pm. you should take your mind off hyunjin. and what better way to do so than to go get drunk?

you quickly text yizhuo, who’s probably also drinking right now.

seo y/n [8.26pm]:

are u at jiwoong’s bar?

i just ended

ning yizhuo [8.27pm]:

how’d you know?

i’m drinking with chenle

come unnie

chenle? you furrow your brows. wasn’t he that super rich kid who yizhuo plays video games with? ah, whatever, you seriously need to get drunk now.

swiftly hauling down a cab (honestly, props to you. calling a taxi at night was basically war), you make your way to the bar.

it’s a relatively new establishment, furnished with matte dark oak floorings and a sleek marble bar. it was the closest bar to your workplace, making it a common meeting area for you and your co-workers. normally, during the last day of each month, team manager kim would bring you to go drinking. you push at the doors, the sight of two figures yelling at each other greet you. usually, you would have ignored it. it’s a bar, it’s common to have drunk people fighting. yet, when you squinted closely, realisation struck you.

“hyunjin?” you gasp, “what are you doing here?”

your ex-boyfriend swerves around, eyes blazing with fury as yizhuo curses at him.

“where were you?” he demands, “i texted you multiple times.”

you turn on your phone, grimacing at the countless messages.

“it was on silent mode. if you want to talk, let’s go outside, don’t disturb the people here.”

yizhuo attempts to follow but you just hold a hand out. if hyunjin hurt yizhuo, you would never forgive yourself. besides, this was something you had to do alone.

begrudgingly, hyunjin agrees and exits the bar. out in the street, you take note of his dishevelled self.

“why’d you decide to come here? i know you’re here to find another guy. who is it? i’ll fucking kill him,” hyunjin seethes. you notice the slight flush in his face. was he drunk?

unable to remain passive, you say firmly, “hyunjin, you said you wanted to break up. now that i’ve seen you, let’s break up.”

“are you fucking serious?” he asks incredulously, “i came all the way here to find you and you are the one breaking up with me?”

you retort, “you are the one who said you want to end things. if i found another guy, so what? we’re not dating anymore.”

your last few words hit a nerve. hyunjin’s hands fly out to grab your arms, furiously digging his fingernails into your wrists.

“i’ll fucking kill you if you leave me for another man, don’t test me seo y/n,” he growls. disgusted, you try to escape from his hold. being taller and a guy, he’s obviously stronger. you feel your skin breaking at the edge.

“let go!” you grit your teeth, trying to pry his fingers off. he relentlessly grips on, even managing to avoid any attempts of your escape.

slow, steady footsteps approach. you notice the look of anxiety on hyunjin’s face. what would this look like to an outsider? his grip doesn’t lessen however. the figure opens the doors, raising an eyebrow.

“what the hell are you looking at?” hyunjin snarls. your eyes fly to the stranger. it’s a woman, thank god.

despite your current predicament, you can’t help but admire the woman staring at you. her face was sculpted by the gods; dark, deep, hypnotising eyes, a tall nose bridge, red, full lips that formed a thin line.

“why are you assaulting a woman?” god, you could just die hearing her voice. husky and intimidating, hyunjin was practically quivering in his feet.

“i-i’m not doing anything! you’re the one staring at us, bitch.”

her eyes narrow and she scoffs, “did your mother teach you any manners? i was just concerned for her safety,” she gestures to you, “it seems as if you’re holding her here, unwilling to let go.”

“i’m not doing jackshit.”

your eyes bore into her, calling out for help.

“ah,” the stranger inches closer, fingers trailing from your shoulder to your arm. you shudder at her touch. she smirks, “why don’t you let her go now? or should i call the police on you, hwang hyunjin?”

hyunjin’s face turns red. nervousness grows at the sight of his anger.

“how the fuck do you know my name?”

she tilts her head, reminiscent of a curious puppy, “oh, don’t you know who i am? tell your father if his son acts up again, we might not continue our deal.”

“how do you know my dad?” hyunjin yells, “and what deal do you have with him?”

“i’m your father’s biggest business partner. how would he feel if he found out he lost his company because of his idiot son? or would you want me to reveal some of your own secrets? what’s her name, jiyeon?”

your eyes widen at the mention of hyunjin’s ex. he had broken up with lee jiyeon months before meeting you. why was this stranger bringing her up again? and how did she know so much?

hyunjin glances at you, “don’t you fucking dare.”

by now, hyunjin had let go of your hand entirely. the stranger just sighs dramatically and stares at her fingernails.

“hyunjin-ssi, you really have a knack for being a public nuisance. i just wanted a drink, and my precious evening was interrupted by you screaming. ah, should you really be concerned about your ex-girlfriend finding a new guy? haven’t you already done so while still in the relationship?”

in a second, hyunjin lunges for the stranger. his hands fly out to grab at her hair, but she manages to dodge the sudden attack. frowning at hyunjin, the stranger finally scoffs, “you’re pathetic. don’t you dare touch my clothes, they’re designer. leave now before i call the cops on you.” despite his anger, hyunjin actually looks spooked and quickly stomps away. thank god. she swats off the imaginary dust on her shoulders and turns to you.

in contrast to before, she sends a small smile, “you did a good job breaking up with this idiot.”

“thank you for saving me.”

she shrugs, “it’s all right. he was being a nuisance.”

“i’m sorry…” you ask, “but how did you know so much about hyunjin?”

“i deal with the hwang group. i have met his father on several occasions. sometimes, he has to clean up his son’s mess. most of the time, he can’t do it alone. hence, he finds us,” her smile turns into a grimace, “i apologise that someone like him has been taking advantage of you. i assure you that hwang hyunjin and park jiyeon will be taken care of.”

“no, it’s okay, i kind of had a feeling already,” you hesitate to reach out to her, “uhm, can i know your name?”

the stranger adjusts her clothes; a black pantsuit. your eyes trail down from her face to her luminous black hair. they follow the shape of her jawline, sharp as a knife, down to her collarbones. you unconsciously swallow your saliva.

“you can call me jimin,” she says, taking a piece of card out from her pocket, handing it to you. your eyes skim the details. yu jimin. nothing else is on the card except for a phone number. “what can i call you?”

“y/n, seo y/n.”

“if you find yourself in another situation as such, i will do my best to help, y/n.”

you can’t believe a woman like her is pledging her assistance to you.

unable to control yourself, you blurt out, “what can i do to repay you?”

jimin’s eyes form into slits, crinkling into a devilish smile.

“what are you insinuating?”

everything around you is soft, pillowy and warm. except for one. the incessant buzzing of something. it snaps you out of your reverie. groaning loudly, you throw your hand to reach out for the device causing the vibration. your fingers hit an unfamiliar surface. since when did you have a bedside table this close? eyelids fluttering open, you regain consciousness.

“what the hell?” you say out loud, sitting upright in bed. your phone lays beside you, its buzzing unable to distract you from what you’re seeing. white silk sheets covered your bare body, which was littered with bite marks and hickeys. it trailed on from your neck to the dip in your hips. lingering bruises were left on your thighs too.

oh fuck.

you were screwed.

grasping your phone, you scan the room for your clothes. finally catching sight of your scattered clothes, you gently pick them up, face turning red at the sight of your well-marked body. your purse and belongings are littered all over the floor as well. a disgruntled groan emits from the bunched up blankets. it’s only now you realise there’s a person below it, snoring peacefully.

wincing at the slight soreness in your lower body, you gently throw the duvet cover off you and slowly put on your clothes, afraid of disturbing the sleeping woman. taking one last look at the bed, a mop of black hair contrasting the pale serene face below.

running your hands through your hair to comb the mess, you rush out of the bedroom. the sight before you leaves you in awe. whoever this jimin person was, her apartment was amazingly furnished. whatever, you shake your head before you could be further distracted.

there’s countless messages left by yizhuo, all inquiring about your whereabouts. shit. you forgot to tell her. after assuring her that you were alive and not kidnapped, you quickly navigate your way back home. surprisingly, jimin’s modern apartment wasn’t far away from yours, despite the contrast between the two homes. you could infer accurately that karina was some wealthy bachelorette who held power. between her penthouse and the conversation with hyunjin, she was probably a high rank in the business industry.

after reaching your house, you take a much needed shower and slip into a white button up blouse and a black pencil skirt. this was your usual office attire. thankfully, as you had finished the looming report the previous night, you didn’t have to get to the office early. finishing up with some light makeup, you head out satisfied. the soreness in your lower body serves as a constant reminder of the activities you took part in. at least you didn’t have a hangover.

entering the lounge, you spot your colleagues all conversing with one another. minjeong seems to be in a heated debate. your eyes dart to the figure standing by the counter.

“good morning, ms seo,” you bow when team manager kim greets you. kim gaeul, two years your senior, and somewhat of a friend.

“good morning,” you reply. gaeul is sipping on the coffee from the cafe opposite. she gestures towards the paper bag on the counter, “there’s a latte in there for you. good job on the report, i read it this morning.”

you beam at the manager, “thank you so much.” desperately, you chug the latte, relieved that you had caffeine in your body to survive the day ahead. gaeul stares at you in amusement before clearing her throat, “now that everyone is here, i would like to announce that a new ceo will be coming.”

there’s some mutters and murmurs of confusion.

“our current ceo will be resigning,” gaeul says, a fixed smile on her face, “hence the need for a new ceo. she will be here shortly. at ten, please gather in the meeting room so she can introduce herself to all of us.”

you check the time, it was forty past nine. the new ceo will be coming soon. was there enough time to get any work done before she arrived? probably not. you sit down next to minjeong on the couch. she catches you mid yawn.

“sunbae, did you get enough sleep?” your ears blush at the memory of what happened.

“maybe i didn’t sleep well,” you say. minjeong nods, a look of pity on her face, “you must have gotten home late because of that report.”

you scratch your neck, “yeah, i got home pretty late.”

“maybe you can take a quick nap? you still have twenty minutes, i’ll wake you up.”

shaking your head, you chuckle, “it’s okay, minjeong. i’ll get through the day. at least team manager kim got us all coffee.”

despite your words, you find your eyelids fluttering close every second. maybe you should really take a nap. the events of the previous night had left you incredibly tired. breaking up with hyunjin was emotionally draining, whereas jimin… you rid the thoughts from your brain. it would serve you no good to be thinking about her right now. she was just a helpful woman who you repaid by sleeping with. at least it was enjoyable. you certainly enjoyed the feel of her warm body against yours. even before you start to reminisce, minjeong jolts upwards and exclaims, “time to go meet the ceo!”

the rest of the group follows suit, heading towards the lift. you wearily drag yourself to follow along, an arm looped through minjeong for support.

“y’all think she’ll be pretty?” a voice rings out from the crowd.

“aren’t most ceos like forty years old?”

“women don’t expire past the age of forty, mark,” you retort. mark only smirks, “maybe she’ll be a hot cougar.”

you roll your eyes at his words, yet you can’t help but imagine what the new ceo would be like. would she be intimidating? confrontational? you just hope she won’t be unreasonable. god knows you need a break from this absurd company. the only good thing about it was its pay and the people you work with.

“quiet down everyone,” gaeul says, “she’s coming soon, please be on your best behaviour.” she shoots a look at the rowdy group of guys nearer to the back. you try to inch closer to the front, the denial of your curiosity itching at you. despite your tired state, there was still some interest in the next ceo. “there she is!” minjeong whispers loudly.

your head flies to look up, mouth agape as your eyes bore into the woman’s frame. under the exquisite fabric draped over her, you could still sense her elegance. the way her steps echoed against the tiles, commanding everyone’s attention. your heart drops at the familiarity.

oh.

oh no.

below her bright red, glossy lips, resides a beauty mark.

you remember your own lips moulding against hers from the night before. the feel of her burning skin on top of your equally desperate body. her lingering touches, fingers tracing down from your collarbone.

“she’s pretty,” minjeong blurts out. you nod.

she was a goddess, aphrodite incarnated. you distinctively recall how sweet her words were, how her voice toned down to a husky drawl, whispering the things she would do to you. a shiver runs down your body, you clench your fists. how were you getting riled up over a memory?

your eyes follow her as she turns to face everyone. her face remains impassive as she addresses the crowd, “i am your ceo, karina.” cold, narrow eyes flick through the gathering, eventually meeting yours. if anyone else had looked closer, they would have noticed the shock in the way her eyes widen ever so slightly. yet, she swiftly regains herself.

“please do carry on as usual,” she says, you can’t believe she’s the same person as the jimin from last night, “i will be conducting a meeting later. do not be late.”

as her footsteps recede, you let out an exhale of breath. having her eyes on you made it hard to breathe, she literally took your breath away. minjeong eyes you curiously, but the crowd quickly disperses, sensing that karina was not to be messed with. they would rather get back to their jobs than deal with an angry ceo.

after heading back up, you finally sit down on your office chair, finding it more comfortable than usual. normally, it felt like it was forcing your spine in the most unnatural way. yet, after that interaction with jimin, you found solace in it.

“guys! ceo wants everyone in the meeting room now!” gaeul’s head pops out from the room, hurriedly gesturing for everyone to come. you reluctantly rise and walk to the room slowly. jimin’s already standing inside, a stony look on her face as she analyses a file of papers, presumably reports.

once everyone had entered and were settled down, jimin places the file back on the table, eyes roaming around as she says, “this company will collapse within a year’s time if i did not take the offer to buy it. hence, starting from now, there will be extreme changes.”

you take a gulp.

“first of all, we have to start investing more of our time into doing trade and business with others. isolating ourselves and believing that we can become successful without the help of others is idiotic,” jimin explains, “we should take the initiative and with someone like me at the helm, this company will flourish.” she hands out an assortment of papers around the room.

“this will tell you everything you need to know about your duties as an employee of this company. do take the time to read through thoroughly. i assure you with such a strategy, no one will need to work more than they have to.”

you can see some impressive looks from your colleagues. jimin was definitely a strong ceo, you already knew from how well-connected she was. yet, this would be your first time seeing her work ethic in action.

“everyone is dismissed. however,” jimin turns back around, eyes gleaming with mirth, “seo y/n, i want to meet you in my office.”

every inch of you freezes up. you sense some curiosity lingering around your colleagues, especially minjeong who offers a comforting pat on your shoulder. jimin’s lips form a devilish smile, akin to the one you saw previously. you sigh, already regretting all life choices thus far.

the door closes shut behind you. jimin sits down in her luxurious and pristine office chair. you kind of envy her.

a moment of silence passes before jimin speaks, “i did not expect to see you here.”

“neither did i,” you answer back. her appearance was a shock.

she chuckles slowly, “after leaving me in bed alone, with no note or anything, should i fire you?”

your eyes widen. what the hell? wasn’t this an abuse of authority? she couldn’t fire you that easily, right? over something that wasn’t even related to your job!

“you seem to not be able to finish your job, seo y/n,” jimin spins a fountain pen between her fingers. your gaze darts from the swirling pen to her face. indifferent, yet a hint of amusement.

“i assure you i am a hard worker and the night before is not related to my work ethic,” you reply.

jimin laughs, “do you not know how upset i was when i did not feel a body next to me? my sheets tidied up neatly, clothes gone and not a single hint of you left behind.”

“last night was a one-time thing,” you state firmly, “it will not happen again as i intend it to.”

the ceo’s eyes rake down your body, seemingly turning into satisfaction as she smiles, “you do not intend for it to happen again?”

“i… thank you for saving and helping me with my ex-boyfriend, but you’re my boss now and it’s probably a workplace violation.”

“so it is not because you do not want to, more so you feel that you are not allowed to,” jimin bluntly says. she’s right. you would like to indulge in the pleasure she provides once more, and continuously, but she’s your boss.

your silence speaks of your answer.

“it is unexpected that we have met under these circumstances. i won’t lie and say that i’m fine with forgetting about the night we spent together. huh. i wanted a date… yet, if you insist…”

jimin stands up from her desk, staring at the city skyline. you stare at her hooded eyes in the reflection of the window panel.

“you may leave,” she smiles, “but do call me karina and not jimin in front of others. they do not know my real name.”

you nod, unsure how to reply. were you meant to feel special that she had so willingly spared her real name to you? with others not privy of her name, you were the only one. jimin closes the door firmly behind you. you’re greeted by the sight of an anxious minjeong and a smirking mark lee.

“what did she say to you? and how did she know your name already?” minjeong asks hastily.

“just talking ‘bout work,” you answer smoothly, “we have a mutual friend.”

mark, bless him, adds on, “she’s prettier up close, right?”

“yeah,” you reply, cheeks reddening. you were well acquainted with her beauty by now, finding yourself momentarily starstruck.

“must be nice having the ceo know you,” minjeong says, sighing. you smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. was it really a blessing?

no, of course it wasn’t. you slept with your boss. unintentionally, in fact. you head back to your desk, hands almost ripping out your hair as you gaze at the closed door.

what have you gotten yourself into now?

you’re annoyed. irritated. angered. all because of your ceo. jimin doesn’t do anything outlandish, no. but she throws a mountain of work onto you. and only you. her previous promise of no one having to work more than they need to is out the window. you can only scoff, ashamed that you truly believed she would let you leave by five. however, it seems that jimin is rather petty. every time you snap back with a remark, she just smiles and places one more report on your desk a few minutes later. it’s maddening. was she not abusing her power?

the stack of papers on your desk feels never ending. compared to your colleagues, it’s clearly taller. even minjeong had commented about it. if the sudden increase of workload wasn’t enough, jimin also demanded you to do the most trivial things, such as fetching her coffee, shredding papers… did she not have enough money to afford a personal assistant? you were just an employee to the company. after bringing up your concerns to gaeul, the team manager merely shrugged, saying she could not do anything against the ceo. and it wasn’t as if jimin was outright abusing you. she was so clearly just messing with you!

(“you’re joking,” you gape at the pile of paperwork jimin was carrying to your table.

“how is this a joke to you?” jimin asks, a stern look on her face, but the small grin she wore betrayed her facade.)

this wasn’t any different from your life before the new ceo came. honestly, it might be worse. you had more work than ever, overtime was becoming a necessity in your life, and jimin just gets to prance around. you seriously had to take the initiative to discuss this, because what on earth.

finally deciding you had enough of jimin’s antics, you stand up from your desk, leaving the heaps of papers undone. determined, you take long strides, arriving at the door of jimin’s office. some of your colleagues eye you weirdly but they don’t make a sound. you just ignore them. not even knocking, you open the door. if jimin notices your presence, she doesn’t show it. her face is buried in a file, eyes darting from the report to the computer screen. you swallow, drawing courage from every fibre of your being.

“i need to talk to you.”

jimin’s head shoots up, an eyebrow raised. her bangs are parted today, no longer hovering over her eyes. the first few buttons of her black blouse are unbuttoned, revealing her carved collarbones. a pair of thick, black framed glasses rest on her sharp nose.

“about?”

“you’re messing with me,” you state.

the ceo stares. she looks rather dishevelled today, you wonder why.

“interesting. how did you come to that conclusion?” she asks, placing the file back onto her desk, her eyes fully focused on you now. trying to not get hypnotised by her forceful peering, you voice out, “you’ve been giving me more work than others. you always find some excuse to make me do stuff. i’ve worked here for three years and you’re making me an errand girl.”

it’s true. it feels like she’s just giving you filler work to do. there hasn’t been any improvement at all.

“i… i thought you would be different,” you admit, “different from our previous ceo. but it feels like nothing has changed. i’m still working overtime with no end in sight and it feels even worse than before.”

jimin doesn’t say a word. it’s the first time you’re saying this to anyone, your true feelings. jimin had made such big promises at the first meeting but after two months, there really wasn’t any change.

“i give you more work because you’re more capable,” jimin explains, a grim look on her face.

“that doesn’t excuse the fact you literally demand me to run around and make you coffee.”

“i can’t deny, that was for my personal amusement.”

your anger flares up, “see! you’re messing with me!”

“your reaction is funny,” she reasons weakly, “it’s really… i didn’t know it was taking a toll on you. i just wanted to see you get annoyed. you look cute when you’re grumpy.”

the previous frustration simmers down completely at her words. cute? was it appropriate for your boss to be saying this?

“what?”

jimin looks away shyly, a stark contrast to her intimidating facade, “i’ll try to restrain myself from now on… but i would like to talk to you about something as well.”

your curiosity is piqued. jimin’s face turns dark, her eyes narrowing as she asks, “are you and mark in a relationship?”

a gasp escapes your lips, because what the fuck?

“no, ew,” you instantly say, “mark acts like a kid.”

“so you have no romantic feelings for him?” jimin repeats.

“no, none at all.” somehow, you know why she’s even asking in the first place.

jimin frowns, “so why were you touching his face that day?”

you remember it vividly. mark was showing you the netflix movie, ‘365 days’ and stating that you could recreate it with jimin. he was joking with you, but you still got flustered. minjeong had been laughing so loudly it attracted the ceo to come into the break room. she has witnessed your hands grabbing mark’s collar, in the midst of threatening him.

“he was just saying something weird,” you mumble, not exactly willing to tell jimin she was the cause. the ceo nods. you can’t help but like this jimin slightly more than the brooding one. she seems more vulnerable today. more gentle and soft.

“okay,” jimin smiles, wider than usual, “you can leave now.”

you bow, slightly happier that the ceo was understanding of your concerns. maybe now you would get home on time, not that you had anyone waiting for you though. after your break up with hyunjin, you had increasingly found more alone time. sometimes you would spend the night with yizhuo, cooking dinner together. most times you would reach home and immediately fall asleep.

content with the meeting, you leave her office, bouncing back to your desk. the stack of papers feel considerably lighter knowing her true reasoning behind piling so much workload on you. perhaps she had more faith and trust in you. that made you feel proud.

a head peeks out above the partition.

“what did the boss talk to you about?” minjeong asks. you wave a hand at her, brushing her words off, “nothing really. karina was just telling me stuff about my job, giving comments, y’know.”

minjeong nods and ducks her head, returning to her work. you do the same, the weight previously resting on your shoulders significantly lighter. the day doesn’t seem so gloomy anymore.

you carry on typing with a small smile. unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes gaze through the blinds.

jimin stays true to her word. despite the heavier workload, your heart feels lighter that she acknowledged your ability. it doesn’t bother you anymore that minjeong and the rest of your colleagues can leave instantly while you stay for a bit longer to refine some finer details. deeply engrossed, you don’t notice the sudden pattering of raindrops splashing against the windows. and you definitely don’t notice the light in jimin’s office still on.

stretching your arms, you yawn, intending to go home. yet, the moment you start packing your bag, realisation strikes you that it was raining. raining heavily. as you try to decide your next move, the door to jimin’s office opens.

her head peeks out, a frown on her face as she calls out, “why are you still here?”

“i was doing something and i just lost track of time,” you explain. jimin’s head tilts. you internally coo at the similarity of her to a puppy.

she takes one look outside and asks, “how are you going to get home? don’t you take the bus?”

you scrunch your nose, trying to think of a way to return home without being caught in the rain but with no avail.

“no idea,” you shrug, “i might call my friend to pick me up or something. not sure if she’s busy though.”

jimin takes long strides towards you, “i can drive you home.”

your eyes widen considerably, “no, it’s really okay!” you don’t know what you would do enclosed in a small space with her without other people around. she looks extra delectable today as well. usually, her hair is neat and proper, but today it’s slightly messy and her bangs are swept to the side, exposing her forehead. she still wears the pair of attractive black glasses and she’s adorning a navy pantsuit today.

“as your boss,” jimin smiles, “i need to ensure that all my employees are cared for. i can’t have you coming to work sick, can i?” you can’t really fight her logic there. it makes sense, she wouldn’t want you to get sick because she would lose manpower. yet, the explanation digs a hole in your heart.

she’s your boss.

you glance at the rain splattering.

“okay. take me home.”

jimin’s smile widens. you walk together in silence to the elevator. only the soft humming of her voice fills in the gaps. the silence stretches on till you reach her car as well. it’s only when you try to enter the backseat, jimin says, “what are you doing? come sit here.” she pats the passenger seat. you follow her instructions like a dog with its owner.

as the ceo starts up the car, you notice small details of it. it’s clearly expensive, no doubt. the sleek leather you were sitting on just speaks for itself. jimin had an air freshener hanging from the mirror, the strangest thing was that it was a dinosaur smelling of vanilla. she had a small shiro, the dog from shin-chan, figurine posed on the dashboard. you quietly giggle at the cuteness of it all. jimin having adorable items accessorising her car was such a stark contrast to her distant and cold persona as your boss.

“that’s cute,” you point out. jimin glances at what you’re pointing at and her cheeks redden, “ah. do you like shin-chan too?”

“uh,” you blank out, “i guess so? i like boo.”

jimin beams.

“that’s amazing,” she says with all the sincerity in the world, “let’s watch shin-chan together someday.”

it’s a strange proposal, no doubt. but you find yourself nodding too soon. the grin you receive from jimin is well worth it though.

“you can key in your address here,” she hands you her phone. as you type, jimin continues talking, “i broke off my deal with hwang by the way. has he contacted you at all?”

you shake your head, “no, but his sister has been texting me. apparently he’s very disoriented and is always drunk. he got into a scandal recently for starting a fight at another bar.”

jimin sighs, one of bemusement, “i truly wonder where such men get their audacity from.” you giggle at her words.

“honestly, hyunjin is childish and immature but he’s a good guy,” you confess, “i don’t know why he suddenly turned into someone like that.”

the ceo falls silent. you wonder if you said something wrong. maybe you offended her in some way. gulping, you distract yourself by watching the scenery of urbanised skyscrapers.

“you’re giving him too much credit,” jimin says, “he’s always been like that. he’s just a good actor.”

“really?”

jimin nods firmly, “of course. and did you really like him? or did you just like having him around?”

you debate on answering. wasn’t this too personal for someone’s boss to ask? your eyes swerve to watch jimin’s grip tighten on the steering wheel, her small hands showing white knuckles.

“there’s many things that are mistaken for another, such as liking someone and liking the idea of them.”

“what other things are you talking about?” you ask, genuinely curious.

the traffic light turns red. jimin presses on the brakes, a smirk plastered on her face as she turns to you.

“like finding someone good-looking and attractive. i know i’m good-looking, but am i attractive to you, y/n?” she leans forward, her face inches away from yours. your eyes unintentionally trail down to her lips before snapping shut and turning away.

“don’t leave me hanging,” you can hear the damn pout in her voice. a warm hand leaves a fleeting touch on your arm as she pulls you to look back at her again.

you resist the urge to throw yourself out of the car.

“the light’s green,” your voice comes out almost as if you were constipated.

jimin lets out a hearty laugh.

“we can settle this debate back at yours, don’t you think?” your hands clench by your side, neck strained to crane your head away from looking at the delectable woman.

“i don’t think that’s appropriate,” is what you end up saying. jimin shrugs. your eyes are drawn to the smooth expanse of her hands that rest against the steering wheel, and the way her knuckles unintentionally flex when turning.

“we’re far past appropriation,” she states, amused.

shrugging, you stare at the outside scenery instead, ensuring that you wouldn’t be salivating at the sight of your boss.

jimin hums to the music playing in her car. you roughly recognise it as a song from the pokemon anime ost. somehow, it’s totally believable that this domineering boss could also have a silly and endearing side to her. it was yu jimin after all.

“what are you thinking so hard about?”

you.

“work.”

“what about it? is the workload too heavy for you?” the concern in her voice makes you want to puke.

you shake your head.

“i’m just thinking… about that day,” you decide to answer truthfully.

jimin tilts her head, “what day?”

“you know…” it comes out in a hushed and embarrassed whisper, “that day.”

either jimin’s stupid or she’s just playing dumb. she stares at you, confused. you make some inappropriate gestures with your fingers, until she lights up in recognition.

“that day?” she repeats teasingly.

it’s not like you can ask her for a repeat of that day. you had literally stated outright that it was a one-time thing. she was your boss, for god’s sake. if you slept with her again, you would be breaking all sorts of violations.

“…it was nice…” your cheeks redden, “that’s all.”

the smirk on jimin’s face is unbearable. thank god you’re not the one driving, or you would have gotten a heart attack.

“want to do it again?”

your face gets undeniably hotter. redness flushes through your entire body as you cower.

there’s a moment of decision-making.

was it worth the risk to try again with jimin? for some reason, you know you’re past the phase of attraction. it’s pure interest for her now. you’re not sure if your heart’s fully beyond lust, but there’s something lingering that feels akin to adoration. there’s no doubt that you find jimin extremely good-looking, but like she said before, there was a difference. it’s unfortunate you’re attracted to her as well. maybe she already knew your answer, that’s why she didn’t push for you to reply.

(it would be a resounding yes.)

but jimin was still your boss. what if people in the company found out? they technically couldn’t do anything since jimin was already in the highest position, but if you had to suffer questioning looks and backhanded remarks from them, about how you achieved this job by sleeping around, it would break your heart.

and you don’t want a repeat of hyunjin. you don’t know if you’re ready for another relationship. at least now you’re aware you can actually feel things for others and you’re not some emotionless robot.

but something about jimin pulls you towards her. like two opposite poles of a magnet. there’s something so endearing yet mysterious about the girl that makes you want to try.

“we’re here already, i think my friend lives nearby here,” jimin says as she looks around. she’s parked along the road, your apartment just a few metres away.

you gulp, murmuring softly, “jimin.”

the ceo turns to you, like a little cat.

“can we try dating?”

jimin’s eyebrows shoot upwards, shock evident on her face. after all, you had rejected her not long ago.

“really?” she can barely contain her excitement.

“uh, yeah,” you’re a little uncomfortable with the way she’s staring at you so intensely.

happiness was coursing through her veins. jimin had never expected you would end up giving in. she had a whole plan in her head— first, get you riled up and then convince you to sleep with her again. her second phase consisted of insanely good aftercare that would definitely draw you in into her amazing personality. the last phase was just playing hard to get and making sure you wanted her badly. it seems like she skipped most of the steps. whatever, it doesn’t matter since she got the same end result.

“okay!” jimin beams.

you stare at her stunned.

“uh, so we’re dating now, right?” you repeat.

“mhm!”

her compliance makes you want to jump on her.

“let’s set some boundaries first, okay?”

jimin ponders for a bit before stating confidently, “i have no boundaries! you can do whatever you want.”

it’s a little riveting having her agree with whatever you say. her natural submission is jarring. you laugh, “that’s okay, but i have some rules.”

“go ahead!” jimin’s gazing at you, her eyes wide and rapt with attention. you hold out your hand, pointing at each individual finger, “one, no pda in the office, i don’t want to give people an opportunity to gossip.”

she nods. it would be hard to continue dating if people kept invading your privacy.

“two, we have to keep this a secret,” you continue, “and three, we’re not official yet okay? just dating for now. let’s take it slow.”

“mhm sure.”

“four, don’t call me any nicknames in the office, i’m just seo y/n and you’re karina.”

jimin smirks lazily, her hand resting against the wheel, “you’ll be yu y/n soon.”

“jimin,” you groan at her sleaziness.

“go on!”

you list off the final rule, “five, no special treatment just cause we’re dating. i don’t want people to think i’m getting more opportunities to do well just because we’re dating.”

the ceo blinks.

“okay.”

“okay?”

she hums, content, “yeah. i’m fine with all that.”

you breathe out shakily, “that’s good.”

“mhm. you should get going now,” jimin smiles, “it’s late.”

“right, okay. uh, see you tomorrow?”

the ceo tilts her head, a wide grin on her face, “see you tomorrow, baby.”

your face flushes red.

“jimin.”

“we’re not in the office!”

dating jimin is wonderful. she’s the sweetest and most caring girl on earth. everytime she does something even remotely romantic, you’re swept off your feet. despite your insistence to take it slow, you had only resisted at the start. now, after weeks of dating, you succumbed to jimin’s puppy eyes and begging.

wrapped in her embrace, you snuggle into the crook of her neck even deeper, breathing in her cologne.

jimin only tightens her arms. if it wasn’t for the fact that it was extremely comfortable, you would have complained that she was strangling you.

“baby,” she whispers, planting haste pecks all over your face.

that had been a recurring thing. you realised soon after the first week, jimin loved calling you baby. sometimes you wondered if she forgot your name and called you baby to hide it. the girl, obviously, denied it.

“hm?” your voice comes out muffled.

“you look really cute like this.”

you couldn’t disagree more. adorned in an old oversized sweatshirt that was literally disintegrating by the second, messy bed hair after the nap you had just taken, and a bare face that probably had drool all over.

meanwhile, jimin’s wearing a calvin klein hoodie with little boy shorts that exposed her bare legs. your own legs fitted nicely against hers, tangling your bodies together on the couch.

“i won’t get to see you tomorrow,” jimin says out of the blue.

“why? do you have something going on?”

the ceo groans heartily, “my friends want to have dinner together.”

this puts a frown on your face. originally, you had planned a cute little date for the two of you.

jimin, observant of your turmoil, only runs her fingers through your hair comfortingly, “i know, baby. but we don’t always get this chance. and it’s just dinner! just this once.”

you nod your head, burrowing further into her embrace. jimin only sighs happily, her hand trailing down from your head to your back, rubbing circles repeatedly.

“what are you wearing then?���

“maybe that dress that you really liked? or maybe a random pantsuit.”

you know which dress she’s talking about. an ivory coloured, strapless dress that accentuates her collarbones nicely.

“wear the pantsuit.” something about other people being able to see jimin in that dress doesn’t sit right with you.

a chuckle escapes her, “didn’t you say you liked the dress?”

shrugging, you reply nonchalantly, “don’t want anyone else seeing you in it.”

silence. then a high-pitched squeal.

“y/nnie, you’re so cute!” your head is dramatically pulled back from jimin’s neck and you come face-to-face with the ceo, who’s cooing at you incessantly. she plants multiple pecks all over your face whilst squeezing your jaw tightly.

“jimin!”

the girl finally pulls away from covering your face with kisses, but if it weren’t for her bright red lipstick, she would have seen how underneath all her kiss marks, your face was splashed with maroon.

“if you come with me, then can i wear that dress? i really want to wear it,” jimin pleads.

it's a fair deal in your opinion. you could spend time with her and being able to see jimin in that dress was just a plus. it just leaves the problem of jimin’s wandering hands. even in your office, her hands seem to have a mind of their own, constantly roaming around places they shouldn’t be. like how when you were brewing coffee one morning, jimin had snuck up behind and rested her hands on your waist, whispering a quiet greeting. thank goodness no one else was in the lounge. that surely would have started endless amounts of rumours.

“but we can’t kiss or hug there okay?” you reply, deciding to make a trade-off.

jimin pouts, but she ends up huffing and then nodding.

“just stay by my side. i’ll restrain myself.”

well, that turned out to be a lie.

despite her previous promise of keeping her hands to herself, they somehow ended up entangled in your own. one of her hands lingers between your shoulder blades, and in the car ride to the restaurant, it trailed down to the small of your back. you had scolded jimin for that.

even now, jimin still ensured she was somehow touching you. the restaurant was extremely high-end, evident from the menu which didn’t even have prices on them! you had gone through culture shock with that.

the table was surrounded with people you assumed held equally sophisticated titles, some of them stared at you with curiosity, probably wondering why a newcomer had arrived.

there were a few empty seats, but jimin had informed you that some maybe couldn’t make it, as always.

“so,” one of the extremely gorgeous women had cleared her throat, “are you going to introduce the lovely woman you’ve brought with you, karina?”

jimin smiles as her hand comes to lie on your arm, where your elbow is.

“this is y/n, she’s my colleague,” jimin says, a practised answer. you try to muster up a smile.

“i’m giselle, or aeri, nice to meet you, y/n,” the woman drawls, her tone full of mischief and she had that twinkle in her eyes that reminded you of jimin when she’s about to tickle you.

“how has ceo life been treating you? we haven’t heard from you much,” another woman asks. you notice how cat-like this woman looks. she had beady eyes that were laser-focused on jimin. there’s a chorus of agreement from the rest.

the ceo laughs, “it’s good. i’ve gotten to experience many things. what about the park group that you’ve visited, ryujin? are they still doing well?”

as the now named woman, ryujin, goes into a tirade about the park group, you take the opportunity to identify everyone. most of them were dressed to the nines, their hair all prim and proper, and not a speck of dust on their clothes. just from a quick scale, you could tell they were all extremely wealthy. you listen to ryujin speak while digging into the sirloin steak jimin had ordered for you.

“—and i actually met someone new recently, she should be arriving soon with her brother,” ryujin exclaims. the group chatters excitedly about her newest paramour, while jimin explains that ryujin had gone a few years without a relationship, hence the enthusiasm.

right as you nod, the door to the private room opens and two extremely familiar figures stride in and take their seats.

fuck. you think, unable to control the way your eyes widen. jimin shares the same feeling seemingly, with how she stiffens and a huff escapes her.

“this is hwang yeji and her brother hyunjin,” ryujin beams proudly, unaware of the tension surrounding the table.

“seo y/n?”

your eyes dart downwards, unwilling to face hyunjin. yeji only gasps, “what? oh my gosh, y/n!”

you grit your teeth as hyunjin laughs loudly, “what are you doing here?”

jimin’s hand slithers down to yours, encasing it in a tight but comforting grasp.

ryujin’s head goes back and forth and the table’s filled with surprised chatter and questions.

“how do you guys know each other?”

hyunjin beats you by answering, “she’s my girlfriend.”

what?

you wince a little at how jimin only grips you even more firmly.

“you are?” ryujin exclaims. yeji sends you a sympathetic look, but before she even says anything, aeri interrupts.

“are you a two-timer?” she accuses, eyes blazing with fury, “aren’t you dating jimin?”

your head snaps towards jimin.

“uhm—” she splutters out, “i— okay! it just slipped out and i told aeri to play pretend!”

“what?! you’re dating her?” hyunjin suddenly barks. you groan, wondering why you even got involved with these people. they were all insane!

“wait, so who are you actually dating?” ryujin finally asks. you sigh, “i’m dating jimin.”

a scoff escapes hyunjin.

“you’re actually with her? i can’t believe you jumped into bed with someone else right after we broke up! i knew you were a slut from the beginning.”

a chorus of gasps echo from the table. you should feel saddened that someone you cared for previously was throwing insults at you, but you don’t feel anything. yet, the same couldn’t be said for jimin, who rises up from her seat abruptly, and tosses her glass of champagne at hyunjin.

“don’t talk about her like that.”

“are you fucking serious?!”

“shut the fuck up,” jimin seethes, “and don’t let me hear you utter her name from that filthy mouth of yours ever again.”

hyunjin’s hair down to his tailored suit, drenched in expensive champagne that is probably worth more than your apartment. you watch as his face turns an angry red, and you can almost see the steam coming out from his ears. his mouth opens to retort but he can only gape furiously.

“you’re pathetic and i pity the people that have to be in your company. you forget yourself. don’t you dare come into my sight. my eyes aren’t adjusted to the filth that you are.”

hyunjin stands up from his chair but yeji pulls him back down harshly.

“i can’t believe my girlfriend saw anything but a deplorable man in you.”

you’re left jaw-dropped. jimin grits her teeth before tossing you a look, “c’mon y/n, let’s go.”

she pulls you out of your chair and as you leave, you turn back, sending an apologetic look to the others at the table. aeri only guffaws and ryujin yells, “you didn’t pay for the food!”

jimin’s hand doesn’t leave yours, and you’re a little shocked at how quickly and agile she moves even in heels. your heart’s beating a mile, both from surprise and the adrenaline coursing through your veins. when you reach the car, jimin slams the door shut and she deflates in her seat.

“oh my god,” she says.

“oh my god indeed,” you parrot, still in awe of jimin’s reaction. it was crazy, but you can’t lie, it was attractive having her stand up for you like that.

she turns to you, “i can’t believe i just did that.”

“yeah, me neither,” you laugh, “this is the second time you’ve called him pathetic.”

jimin pouts, so unlike the girl from before, “he just made me really mad! holy shit, aeri’s blowing up my phone.”

you’re reminded of something that aeri slipped out.

“jimin,” you place a hand on her arm as she checks the messages, “so you told aeri about us?”

the ceo turns to you, eyes glistening and her lips pursed out cutely, obviously as an attempt to cull your anger, “i really didn’t mean to! please believe me baby. she just asked me why i was so happy recently and then asked if i was seeing someone and you know i can’t lie to aeri… so i told her about you and—”

“hey, calm down,” you chuckle at the way jimin’s turning red from how quickly she rambled. she catches her breath as her chest heaves, “i’m sorry. i know i broke the rule.”

“it’s okay, jimin. i’m not mad,” you reassure.

jimin’s eyes perk up, “really?”

“yeah, it’s fine. i think it’s really sweet that you stood up for me today.”

“i’ll always stand up for you, you know that right? don’t you remember my promise of helping you whenever?” jimin says earnestly. you smile at her cuteness and sincerity.

you don’t know what this feeling is. the chasing thrill every time jimin’s hands are on yours. the gleamy look in her eyes. the curve of her crooked smile. but it feels similar to love.

“jimin-ah,” you mumble. it’s the most unromantic place and time ever— jimin’s car, parked next to a gloomy lamppost, right after she had just poured champagne on your ex.

but because it’s with jimin, it feels perfect.

you can’t believe you ever thought of rejecting the girl prior.

“yes?”

“i really really like you,” you tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. it’s a shame jimin’s dress couldn’t be properly admired today with all the ruckus. but that’s fine, you had plenty of opportunities to do so in the future.

“i really really like you too,” jimin whispers, as if it’s a secret.

you grin, “you looked really attractive just now. i think you’re god’s gift to earth.”

“mhm. you’re perfect too,” she sighs dreamily, “i really don’t mind giving you my everything.”

it sounds like a confession of love. maybe it’s jimin’s own way, but you both know it’s too early, even if the feeling rivals the purest form of affection and adoration.

“i liked it when you called me your girlfriend,” you admit. jimin beams, “so can i call you my girlfriend? can i be yours?”

you nod shyly at how jimin phrases the question. it’s not whether you’re hers, it’s whether she’s yours. and it’s a barely noticeable difference, but it only makes your heart pound more rapidly against your ribcage.

minjeong likes her job. it’s easygoing and the pay’s good. her colleagues are all really nice too. it’s an enjoyable job. she especially enjoys the company of her sunbae from high school. but recently, despite minjeong’s annoyance, her senior has been spending more and more time in the ceo’s office, and not at her desk. the usual conversations between them had gone so quickly and minjeong missed her sunbae’s presence.

she wonders if the ceo is holding you hostage. she’s seen the mountain of papers on your desk before, but she chalked it up to you just being an overachiever.

“minjeong,” her head lifts up, it’s mark lee and team manager kim gesturing at her to come over. their behaviour is strange, minjeong immediately notices, huddled in a corner of the lounge and whispering conspiratorially.

“what’s up? is something wrong?”

manager kim shakes her head and instead asks the damning question of, “do you think y/n and our boss are hooking up?”

what!

“uhm,” minjeong mumbles, “i don’t know?”

mark only nudges minjeong’s shoulder, “wait till y/n comes out of karina’s office and just look at her neck. she might have a few hickies.”

minjeong doesn’t think so, but she agrees to be their lookout and she waits patiently for you to come out. once the door swings open, minjeong catches a glance of karina adjusting her blazer and your hands pulling at the collar of your blouse.

huh. that’s strange.

she trods over to you, a faux smile on her face as she says, “are you in trouble again? you’re always in karina’s office!”

minjeong watches as your eyes widen and you clear your throat, “y-yeah… we were talking about a report… i made a few mistakes.”

her own eyes trail from your face to your poorly hidden neck, where a few bruises reside.

suddenly, everything clicks into place. the frazzled look you always had, the way karina would come out all messy— and the hickies!

minjeong can’t control the words that come out next.

“oh my god— you’re fucking the boss?!”

[decay-1]

GIGGLES i fear i've fallen under the james sunderland curse how did this happen... sighs wistfully. you ever see a guy and just want to pet and brush back some of his hair out of his eyes? i think he might just melt if his s/o did that without much warning. the casual physical affection... <3

Hi its like 3am but time is a construct so here u go babe

Words: 867

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James’ lips moved as he spoke—probably about work, or maybe something to do with your shared house—but you wouldn’t know. You’d been too focused on admiring his handsome features, the ones you’d never get tired of, to really hear a word he was saying. His words were coming in one ear and going straight out the other, drowned out by the quiet joy of just… looking at him.

You’d always found it amusing how much he talked with his hands. Each gesture made a smile tug at your lips, just one more thing about him you adored. How he hadn’t noticed you weren’t paying attention by now was a mystery, but you weren’t complaining. It just gave you more time to daydream about him, something you still loved doing even after all these years together. Every day with him brought a new spark of excitement, no matter how long you’d been by his side.

Your gaze drifted over his nose, and you found yourself remembering how you’d trace its outline at night, lulling him to sleep with gentle fingers. Then, your eyes dropped to his lips—soft, but just a bit flaky from the cold. They had a taste you were sure you’d never find in anyone else. You let your gaze trace the line of his jaw, the one you’d grab out of nowhere sometimes just to pull him in for a short, sweet kiss, leaving him flustered and stammering as he was caught off guard every time.

But then, your attention fell on his eyes.

Oh, his eyes. You’d never get over them.

That pale shade of blue could send your heart racing with a single look, a blue so deep it reminded you of the ocean, the ones you fell in love with all those years ago. Every time his eyes locked with yours, it brought you back to the day you met, and to the moment you knew you were in love. You could feel electricity shoot through your veins, your heart beating faster, skipping like it might just burst from all the affection.

Without realizing it, you grinned with a love-sick expression, your eyes half-lidded as you rested your chin on your hand. You nodded absently at whatever James was saying, even though you hadn’t heard a word in the last few minutes.

Then, your gaze wandered to the blond streaks in his hair, soft strands that always seemed to fall into his face and cover those beautiful eyes you adored so much. It was then that James finally seemed to realize you weren’t paying attention. He raised an eyebrow and pressed his lips together, giving you a look of mock-disappointment. His mouth moved again, probably calling you out for zoning out.

But you still didn’t hear him.

Instead, you frowned a little and tilted your head, watching as more of those golden strands fell into his face. Without thinking, you reached up toward him. James followed the movement of your hand with his eyes, looking a little confused but not objecting. He never did.

Gently, you brushed the soft strands out of his eyes, smiling to yourself. But even as you did, you didn’t move your hand right away. You just stayed there for a moment, gazing into his eyes now that nothing was in the way, taking in his face with a small, contented smile.

“There,” you breathed, barely above a whisper. Your nose almost touched his as your hand dropped back to your lap.

James’ eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as the blush started to creep up his neck. He blinked a few times, trying to process what just happened. The warmth of your touch lingered on his forehead, sending little shocks of electricity through him, and before he knew it, his entire face was burning. It was such a simple gesture, but from you? It was enough to completely short-circuit his brain.

He stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind scrambling to come up with something to say. “W-What… what was that for?” he stammered after a few failed attempts, his voice a little shaky.

But you didn’t answer, still lost in the warmth of the moment.

Flustered, he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, but all it did was make more hair fall into his face. You burst into laughter, your protest coming out between giggles, “Hey!”

He snorted at your reaction, shaking his head with a soft chuckle of his own. He couldn’t help it—he loved that laugh of yours. He looked back at you, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other, grinning like fools, your eyes filled with the kind of love that never really fades. The kind that only grows stronger.

Sure, James would probably ruin the moment by saying something awkwardly cheesy in the next few seconds—that was just part of who he was—but that was another thing you loved about him. For now, you were happy to sit in the quiet comfort of his presence, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you both.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Lovely (Lucifer x Reader)

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Description: Lucifer had heard rumor of the demon with the ability to alter people's memories. Y/n was a marvel and he had her wrapped right around his pinky.

Warnings: Same angst, new target.

Word Count: 1,631

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N This fic is inspired by Spud Cannon's song Lovely. Also don't mind me and my silly little Latin obsessed brain (Lucifer translates to light bringer and is a combination of the latin verb ferre, to bring, and lux, light. I fuck around with that in this.)

That was what had drawn her to him first: the elegance. Lucifer was a graceful man, a beautiful man, a terribly sad person. In retrospect, that should have been Y/n's sign to take a step back but, it is always so difficult to find the right path in the moment. He had seemed so utterly heartbroken, because, as she now knew, he was so utterly heartbroken, and Y/n had thought: maybe I can help?

Her motivations had just been that at first, helping. It wasn't her fault that he was charming and funny and did things that made her want to be more than friends with him with such alarming regularity that it felt like her life was the worst rollercoaster at an amusement park. The one with eight billion sharp turns and uncomfortable seats that left rider's tailbones bruised. It was almost too much to bear.

Lucifer had heard rumors of the demon who had been gifted with the ability to alter people's memories. It had never been gossip that had interested him much until Lilith had left. Suddenly, his mind had felt like a curse. In the throws of despair, he had looked for her, hunted her down. It hadn't take long, he was Lucifer after all. When he was the one asking the questions, few dared to defy.

The shop was a hole in the wall, drenched in the smell of incense and covered in crystals and other odd objects of curiosity. Lucifer could've sworn he recognized the imp horns on the wall but, ignored it. He was there for a reason and asking questions like that were not the path to his end goal.

The demon herself, the famed mystery, was statuesque. She had sat her table in the back of the shop, draped in jewelry made of bones and gold. She had gifted him the first session free of charge.

In order to keep the pain at bay, Lucifer had been required to come to her shop at least once a month. Y/n was a comfort to him, he associated her with the feeling of relief. The two became fast friends.

"Light bringer." she would beckon him in with a smile, "Still counting those forget-me-nots?"

She spoke to him in Latin, in his first eternal language. She weaved images in the air with the smoke from her fires. She was amazing, a miracle worker. Lucifer was grateful for her, for her skill.

Y/n knew the truth behind it. She tried to ignore it, tried to still her raging heart. She knew it was doomed, had seen with her own eyes the way he was still so in love with someone else. Still, when he had asked her on that first date, a year into them knowing one another, she hadn't been able to bring herself to refuse. He had been so sweet, so earnest, so cheesy. He had asked her to be his and she had told him the truth: she already was.

It was a constant state of denial, one big, overwhelming lie she convinced herself was true. In the beginning, Lucifer had been a doting partner. He surprised her with flowers, he always tried to make her smile. It had all stopped the day she had told him she couldn't use her gift on him anymore.

"Why not?" he has asked, alarmed.

"Because, Ferende Lucem (man bringing light), it's not healthy. I can't make things go away forever, just hide them. You still need to deal with them eventually."

Y/n had thought it was time, had figured that two years of dating and three years of knowing one another would be enough. She had been wrong. Lucifer had ceased in his affections in all but name. No longer was she whisked away to the palace, no longer did she wake to one of his creations on her bedside table.

After about a month, she had decided to take things into her own hands. She refused to recede into the gaps he was creating, refused to just let this all go. Y/n loved him, truly. She wouldn't let the love die without a fight.

The palace guards knew her well, had let her in without question. After some searching, Y/n had found Lucifer locked away in his office. The place smelled of despair. He didn't turn from his empty desk at the sound of the door opening.

"Light Bringer." Y/n hummed softly, rapping a knuckle on the already open door, "Counting your forget-me-not's?"

She hadn't asked him that in years, not since before they had gotten together. He lifted his head from his hands, looking over his shoulder just the slightest bit.

"Malefica (witch)." he replied, his voice low and hollow.

Y/n smiled softly at the pet name and entered the room, letting the door stand open in her wake. She approached him, wrapping her arms around his tired shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

"Please." Lucifer's voice cracked, "Please take them from me. It's too much, they're too heavy."

Y/n didn't reply, simply nestling her chin into his hair.

"Y/n, please."

"You know I can't do that." she sighed, "It's not healthy."

"This is what is not healthy."

Y/n let go of him and turned his chair so they faced one another. She kneeled down on the ground before him, clasping his hands in her own. His eyes were ringed with red. In that moment, they weren't a fallen angel and a demon, they were just two people. Two people in love and two people housing broken hearts they lied to themselves to stitch back together.

"Lucifer." her eyes searched his face.

It was rare she called him by his true name. The gravity of the moment clung to their skin.

"Lucifer, what am I to you?"

He looked away. Y/n sighed, her heart cracking straight down the middle within the confines of her chest.

"Can I..." she cleared her throat, steeling her nerves, "Am I ever going to be what you're looking for?"

Lucifer's eyes snapped back to Y/n.

"You are what I'm looking for." he insisted, taking his trembling hands from hers and cupping them gently around her face, "You, Y/n, are my sweet little magician, my salve."

"My magic is, you mean."

Lucifer had always been a terrible liar. It was one of the things Y/n loved about him, the way the truth bubbled to the surface of his being. Right now, she wished he could be the best liar on the planet, the best in all of Hell. Right now, she wished she could've been born blind.

Y/n got to her feet, Lucifer's hands hanging in the air where they had held her last. There was no more running, no more hiding from the truth. This was the precipice, the breaking point, the fall.

"You're my salve." he repeated again, his voice soft and sounding like he was trying to convince himself of the fact as much as he was trying to get through to her.

"Don't lie to me." Y/n demanded, tears pressing behind her eyes, "Don't. Just... just don't."

Oh how she wished she could turn back time, set the clocks to zero.

"You never loved me, did you?"

The question hung unanswered in the air. Y/n had known it for a long time, had known it since the beginning to be perfectly honest but saying it out loud made it all the more real. She was dazed, spinning, out of control.

"You don't love me."

"I wish I could. I'm..."

Y/n scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest and holding back tears. She looked away.

"I'm sorry."

"I'll see myself out, I guess."

She hoped he'd call out for her, run after her into the hallway, ask if they could try again could start over. Of course Lucifer did no such thing.

For all the things she had helped her clients forget over the years, Y/n understood them even more now than she ever had before. It was complicated. Now she was going to have to reshape her life. If she ever saw him in the street, it would be her duty to pretend she didn't know him. The memories spawned the terror of potential futures, dreams where things worked out, where everything was okay. They sent her mind reeling.

She had known, all along she had feared the worst and feared confirmation of her knowledge. That was the worst part, it hadn't even been a surprise. It had simply been just that, a confirmation of the truth.

The world caved in around her as she walked home, houses and shops and people all blurring together into something undistinguished and undefinable.

Lovely, that's what he was. In all his misfortune, in all his despair, in all his grace. Lovely but oh god, oh god he didn't love her. Not the way she wanted him to. Not the way she loved him.

Y/n pulled the curtains shut to her little shop, moving methodically and without thought. She sat down at the table in the back, before the pot of incense. She lit it.

Not once in all her years had she ever tried to do use her magic on herself. It seemed like a line in the sand, something utterly forbidden. Y/n shut her eyes.

When she reopened them, the world felt different. Time had passed, she could tell it had but her mind refused to give shape to the years.

"So this is what it must feel like." she mumbled aloud, noticing the remnants of her ritual spread out on the table before her, "I wonder what happened."

[drvirgus]

Just a secret

Stuco! Haerin X Basketball player! Reader

Warnings: Smut if u squint ur eyes; kinda Hanni x reader (?); curse words; angst; internal homophobia;

a/n: After a looooong time heres pt 3 and final part of this. Hopefully u like it

pt1 pt2

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"Get up"

Startled, my eyes flew open as I felt something light being thrown at me. Still a bit drowsy and with half-open eyes, I looked over at the woman who was sitting down at her vanity, seemingly starting to do her makeup. Confused, it took me a moment to gather myself. My jeans were the object that had been thrown at me...

My eyes widened as I looked around the room. The walls were white, the windows large and slightly open. The white, almost transparent curtains in front of the window gently swayed with the breeze coming into the room. A few photos were hanging all over the walls, as well as a painting. A rather expensive-looking painting...

My eyes landed on the woman who calmly continued applying her makeup, paying me no attention. My eyebrows lifted, and I visibly hesitated. The sheet slipped from my chest as I groaned and sat up. I was naked under the sheet, and several marks were visible on my chest, stomach, and legs.

"Go home now. I have things to do," said the woman doing her makeup, as she concentrated on gluing on her fake lashes. Her mouth was slightly open, which seemed to help her focus. I licked my lips once and wordlessly stood up from her oversized bed. A queen-size bed, maybe even king-size...

"Uh... where's my bra?" I asked as I buttoned my jeans, standing shirtless beside her bed. My eyes were fixed on the woman doing her makeup, who paused briefly and glanced at me through the mirror. Our eyes met, which made her grin slightly. She bit her lip and turned her chair to face me.

As she had done so many times before, her eyes roamed over my entire body as she took a deep breath through her nose. "You know what? Get undressed again. I’ll cancel," the smaller woman said, crossing one leg over the other. Her eyes were fixed on me. My eyebrows raised at her words.

"No. We said this would be the last time, Hanni," I said more seriously, which only made Hanni laugh again. Her laughter was almost mocking as she shook her head in amusement. "You said that, not me... Besides, who showed up here at 2 a.m.?" Hanni asked, clearly entertained.

I rolled my eyes. "You texted me. What was I supposed to do? After all, you still have the audio of Haerin and me," I replied, annoyed, as I started tossing the blanket back and forth, looking for my bra or shirt. Hanni laughed again and wagged her finger in a disapproving gesture.

"Lies," Hanni said, which made me stop immediately. My eyes widened as I looked at the much smaller woman. Her grin was unmistakable. "You know I deleted the audio. You were there when I did it after our first time," Hanni said, grinning as she stood up from her chair and approached me.

Each step she took made me flinch and tremble. My spit caught in my throat. Shakily, I searched with my eyes for any escape route, which only made Hanni grin even more. "You came here willingly, which I like. After all, men are really boring," Hanni said, rolling her eyes in frustration.

"Besides, you like it," Hanni added confidently, as her hand now rested on my hip. Despite her being much smaller than me... she had me under her control.

"Be good and get undressed."

And that’s exactly what I did.

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

I yawned tiredly and immediately covered my mouth with my hand. A hand landed hard on my back, which made me hiss in pain and caused me to hunch over. "Fuck," I exclaimed loudly as I angrily looked at the person who had just slapped me on the back. Yeji burst into laughter, while Jimin rolled her eyes, though the small smirk on her face was hard to miss.

Annoyed, I slammed my locker shut. "Why the hell are you wearing a turtleneck?" Jimin asked as I turned to face them. My eyes went to Yeji first, then to Jimin. But before I could even respond, Yeji yanked down my collar, revealing my marked neck.

Both of them gasped. "Oh my god. Did you get beaten up, or are those hickeys?" Yeji asked, her eyes wide. Sighing, I slapped the older girl's hand away from my collar. "What? Now I sleep with someone, and you don't like it?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, which made them both visibly hesitate.

I could see how they briefly exchanged glances before grinning. Yeji linked her arm through my left one, and Jimin through my right. They clearly didn’t want me to escape. "Who? Was it Chaewon?" Jimin asked, sounding rather excited. I hesitated visibly and looked at Yeji, then at Jimin.

Against my will, my eyes wandered over to my ex-girlfriend, who, as usual, was hanging out by her locker with her friends. Hyein looked quite disgusted at one of the guys walking past her, which made Danielle laugh a little. Her laughter was loud and echoed down the hall. Minji, as always, was just glued to her phone. Hanni was examining her nails. But Haerin was looking at me.

I swallowed hard as my eyebrow began to twitch slightly. I knew that look... The look filled with anger and jealousy...

But she no longer had the right to feel that way.

"Not Chaewon," I replied, which only made my two friends even more curious. Almost in unison, they tugged at my arms, trying to coax more information out of me. I just grinned, which made Yeji huff in frustration, while Jimin simply rolled her eyes. Finally, they let go of my arms.

My eyes briefly drifted back to Haerin, who was still staring at me. Even though Danielle was talking to her, her gaze never left mine. My breath hitched a little, and I felt both nervous and flushed at the same time. I broke eye contact and cleared my throat. "I... I need to go to the bathroom," I mumbled quietly, and without waiting for a response or reaction from the two of them, I walked down the hallway.

Once in the bathroom, I washed my face. "Did you sleep with her?"

Startled, I flinched and immediately looked up, my eyes wide as I saw the person glaring at me with a tense jaw. A few water droplets fell from my chin onto the floor. I quickly grabbed some tissues to dry my face. "That's none of your business," I replied, throwing the now-wet tissues into the trash.

Haerin’s face turned into a scowl. Her jaw tightened even more, and even her hand clenched into a fist. Her forehead furrowed as she stepped closer to me, but I backed away. That didn't stop her from coming even closer. I swallowed. "Haerin," I began, but Haerin just hissed.

Her hand grabbed my collar and yanked me roughly toward her. My eyes widened slightly as I looked down at the smaller woman. I swallowed nervously. "Are you serious?!" she asked, her voice louder as she glared at me with fury in her eyes. The vein on her forehead pulsed. "I have no right?" she asked. Well... she more like shouted.

"I love you, damn it! And you’re letting Hanni fuck you?! I love you, and you break up with me?! I love you, and you don’t even look at me?! I feel like shit without you. Without you... I don’t want anything. I don’t want anything but you!" she screamed directly into my face.

Her words were as sweet as honey, but her tone made it impossible for my brain to register them. My mind went into overdrive, thinking I had to defend myself.

Angrily, I grabbed her collar and pulled her closer too, clenching my teeth. "You treated me like shit! I wasn’t important enough for you to acknowledge me, to be seen with me in public. I wasn’t even asking you to come out!" I shouted, though my voice cracked a little. I wasn’t really used to yelling. "But... you were even scared to talk to me in public," I added, my voice now quieter. My grip on her collar loosened as well.

I completely let go of her collar, but Haerin didn’t seem to let go. Her eyes were burning with unshed tears. "I love you. Isn’t that enough?" Haerin asked, much quieter and gentler now. Her eyes looked straight into mine, her lips slightly parted. "Please, Yn," Haerin whispered softly as her lips met mine.

"Take me back, please."

She kissed along my jaw while one of her hands slid down my side.

"I love you."

Her teeth grazed my skin.

"So much."

My breathing became ragged.

"Yn. Please. Don’t leave me."

Her hand naturally slipped under my turtleneck, which made me flinch slightly. My lips parted. "Haerin," I whispered softly, my voice trembling. "What the hell is going on here?" a voice suddenly echoed in the bathroom. Startled, Haerin and I turned to see Jimin standing there, her mouth open and eyes wide.

"You’re hooking up with Haerin?!" she asked suddenly, starting to laugh. "Yeji owes me fifty," Jimin said, clearly pleased. My eyes fell on Haerin, who seemed to be frozen in shock, her eyes wide and her face pale.

I knew exactly what that meant...

But it still disappointed me.

"No. Haerin... I didn’t sleep with Haerin," I said, which made Jimin furrow her brow. She gestured toward Haerin and me with her hand, confused. "And what exactly is this, then?" she asked, her face filled with bewilderment.

I stepped away from Haerin and forced a rather awkward smile. "She does this sometimes... She knows I like her and... she just enjoys messing with me," I replied, and almost immediately Jimin gasped. Haerin’s head snapped toward me. Her eyes filled with gratitude, but I simply avoided her gaze.

That all-too-familiar burning sensation returned to my eyes. I fought hard to suppress the anger, the disappointment, and the tears. My hands shoved into my pockets as I walked past them both. "I love you."

My eyes widened as I heard my ex-girlfriend’s voice. I froze, unsure if I should let myself fall for it again. Did I even have the strength to resist her?

"Yn. I love you," Haerin said, and I could hear her take a deep breath. Her eyes were now on Jimin. "You heard right. I, Kang Haerin, am a lesbian and in love with Yn," the student council president said confidently, though I could hear the slight tremble in her voice. I knew her, after all...

I turned my entire body toward Haerin, speechless. "What- What are you doing, Haerin?" I asked, visibly shocked that she was coming out now. Even though it was only in front of Jimin, she had said it out loud...

Haerin swallowed as she looked at me, a smile on her face. The uncertainty was still written all over her face. "I... I want you back, Yn," she said, taking another deep breath. "I don’t want to hide you anymore. I don’t want to hide myself anymore," she confessed. Her hands clutched the hem of her school skirt as if it was the only thing holding her steady.

"I’m a lesbian," Haerin repeated, turning to Jimin.

My mouth hung open as I stared at Haerin. She said it... Finally... She said it.

"And now what? Do you want applause?" Jimin asked casually, pretending to yawn. "You’re still Haerin. Just much cooler now, but yeah," Jimin replied nonchalantly, shrugging. "I’m a lesbian too," Jimin added offhandedly. She glanced briefly at me and winked before leaving the bathroom.

Haerin’s mouth and eyes were wide open. She clearly hadn’t expected such a casual reaction. The uncertainty on her face disappeared all at once when she looked into my eyes. Still overwhelmed by the situation, I stepped closer to my ex-girlfriend. My hands found hers. "Are you... do you mean that?" I asked, my voice filled with distrust and uncertainty.

"Yes. I love you. I don’t want to hide you anymore. You’re not just a secret... You’re my girlfriend," Haerin said with a smile as she held her hand out to me properly now. "Let me... let me show you to everyone," Haerin said. My eyes briefly flicked to her hand before I looked back into her eyes.

I had to tell her... Answer her question...

"I slept with Hanni... not just once."

Haerin sharply inhaled through her nose. "I know."

My eyes widened once more. "And... you still want to..."

"Yes."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I placed my hand on hers. "Are you... sure you want to come out?" I asked once more as she tried to pull me toward the bathroom door. Nervous and uncertain, I looked at the smaller woman. Haerin smiled gently. "Yes. I’m sure."

I took a deep breath as the door opened and Haerin pulled me into the school hallway. Her hand in mine. Her grip gentle, yet firm. A smile on her face.

It seemed as though Haerin had no more worries...

As though she was at peace with herself...

As though... she wasn’t afraid anymore...

I was no longer a secret...

I’m Haerin’s girlfriend!

I’m not just a secret!

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[sorcerous-caress]

So fun fact about me irl I work with children but often my teacher language slips out like telling my friends to say “bye bye bus”, telling another person in my lecture writing to “be nice to the pencil, it’s your friend.” And greeting a roomful of grown as adults with good morning boys and girls. It’s mortifying but How do you think the companions would react to having a teacher!tav slip up like that.

Dealing with a Teacher Tav

[Bg3, fluff, platonic kinda, nb!reader]

[Gale, Shadowheart, Laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, Minsc]

Gale

He delightfully plays along whenever you tell him to thank a stranger or say goodbye to an inanimate object. He thinks it's very silly and joyous.

Teachers have always been a big part of his life, it doesn't phase him in the slightest when you unawarly awake the deep memories of being in wizards pre-school for him.

Says good morning to you back, adding a teacher honorific at the end for the sake of being playful while asking if you've finally graded the homework he handed in.

He gives you an apple occasionally. He thinks he is very hilarious.

Shadowheart

She freezes in awkwardness whenever it happens, not sure if you’re being serious or just playing around. Sometimes, you don't even register slipping up as go on with your day, leaving her wondering if she's imagining things.

She has zero experience with the school system, completely confused by the need to say thank you for carriage after it arrived. It's just a carriage, why should she?

One time while her and Laezel were arguing, you used the same call you'd use in the classroom to get the kids to quiet down and it completely caught them both off guard. They just stood there baffled, forgetting their original argument.

Laezel

Why, yes, she is very familiar with teachers. In fact, she was the best out of her class, ask any githyanki teacher, and they'd tell you endless praise about her throat cutting techniques and sword welding stances.

You, whoever, use very unusual teaching techniques. How would learning a song about washing your hand and brushing your teeth help her in slaying her enemies?

Intriguing, so you take advantage of the brain's tendency to latch on to phrases that rhyme, which makes them easier to remember? And you encode your melodies with instructions to embed them into the impressionable youth?

Huh. She actually is impressed. She made her decision, you will lend your teaching skills to help her embed the most effect way of fracturing someone's spine into a melody to spread to the githyanki children.

Wyll

As someone who has been an unofficial teacher for so many kids throughout his years, he can relate to your struggle a lot. He slips up more than he cares to admit.

The both of you meeting early in the morning while still groggy and tired, your brains working on automatic mods as you greet each other with the same high pitched enthusiastic voice you use to greet a toddler.

Then just stare at each other, complete understanding between the two of you. Like two people accidentally using their customer service voice in front of the other.

You struggle to tie your boots once, and he unconsciously bends down to tie them for you while using the rabbit loop euphemism, only to stop in his tracks as he realises what he's doing.

He uses a curse word once, and you immediately use your teachers voice and say, "we don't speak like that here, that's wasn't very nice."

You're both tired, you both need a nap and neither of you brings it up when the other slips.

Karlach

Much like Gale, she finds it extremely amusing. Top tier comedy to her. Unlike Gale, she hasn't been to any proper schooling system, so she doesn't exactly know what most of these phrases mean or imply.

In a way, it lets her pretend she was a part of something like a school in her youth, like she could've had a normal childhood like everyone else.

She'd indulge you, saying goodbye and thank you to the pigeon that delivered her a letter, or overhearing Wyll's rabbit loop ryhme and whispering it under her breath as she ties her own boots. Who knew this could've been so easy?

Astarion

You remind him of how Leon was with his daughter back in Cazador's manor. Astarion never was close with any of them, but still, he sometimes overheard him attempting to give his daughter a semblance of a normal childhood and growth.

It's endearing when you accidentally use your teaching ways while dealing with the owlbear cub, but he'll never admit it.

Doesn't indulge you with it, he has appearance to keep. Well, unless he has a chance to twist your innocent meaning words into a sex or gorey joke like the 12y old humour that he has.

Ah, the scrowl on your face is the exact same one Leon had around him, such fond memories.

Halsin

Ah, you bring him back to his old days of having to deal with the children at the grove. Although his methods focused more on showing them that nature is a friend rather than inanimate objects.

But who is he to judge your ways? If anything he could learn a thing or two from you to add to his skillset.

Tells you about the fables that were passed down from elf to elf throughout the generations, animal stories have always done a great part in teaching him morality.

Do you happen to have any? Maybe you could tell it to the children of the grove, they are good kids.

Minthara

As a noble, she was only given the best and most prestigious of teachers while growing up. Even the ones that weren't a drow would still be considered the best of the best, crème de la crème.

Yet not a single one of them applied such...childish methods. etiquette and discipline were taught by the lash and threat of punishment, not lullabies and gentle guidance.

....it's not as bad as she imagined.

She doesn't get why some of your companions find it amusing. She doesn't bother indulging either.

But sometimes, sometimes, when it's just the two of you, and she is sure not a single soul is around, she will reply with a pun with the most deadpan face expression you've seen.

Jaheira

Despite what most would think, she actually integrated the same methods into her teachings back when her kids were little, it just happened to be weaved with her more dangerous lifestyle ascept.

Here comes the plane, with the airplane usual holding a good dosage amount of poison to build resistance.

A short rhyme about what to check before leaving the house, except the list has a suspicious amount of daggers and trap disarm kits in it.

If it works, it works, so what if she had to alter a kid's book about a honey loving yellow bear into one with decipherable texts to teach them Harpers' secret communication language.

Minsc

Ah! Boo does use the same method on him sometimes, the two of you have a lot in common. Although Boo's methods do involve a bit of biting every now and then.

Say, how about he teaches you some fables from Rashemen, a lot of them are about a rabbit who got lost after not listening to his witch frog companion.

You could use it in your teachings later! Show the youth the importance of good teamwork. Yes, he is aware of the fact he didn't listen to Jaheira and got captured by the cult. No, he doesn't see why this is relevant? Why is Boo suddenly agreeing with you? He is supposed to be on his side.

[dark-and-kawaii]

⋆˙⟡ A Bath With The Devil ⟡˙⋆

*ੈ Summary: Raphael comes to find you hidden away with the crown of Karsus, he see's how this battle has worn you down, the blood on your hands evidence of how you put up a good fight. He decides to reward you with a bath, because what's better than a relaxing evening? A relaxing evening with the devil you've come to love.

ੈ Pairing: Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

ੈ Content: Slight NSFW - Comfort - Raphael Being Raphael - Bathing With The Devil - Soft Yet Possessive Raphael

ੈ Notes: A lovely little story I wrote for @octarinecat for our art trade. I hope you all enjoy this piece as well as i hope she enjoys it xoxo

Your body was sore, aching as if every muscle in it had been put to the test. Every time you shifted even the tiniest bit, you would be wracked with pain that made you groan and grit your teeth. All this suffering, and for what? What could be worth it, that would make you want to bear the pain?

Slowly, your eyes opened, and your gaze focused on a familiar object… The crown of Karsus, resting on a table beside the bed you laid in. It was a strange, eerie sight to behold, a relic of the past, the thing so many lost their lives and souls for. You blinked a few times, clearing your vision and focusing on the crown more clearly… You truly wondered if it was as dangerous and powerful as everyone thought it was, or just an ordinary piece of jewelry that was just cursed.

Sitting up from the bed, you got up and walked towards the window, your eyes never leaving the crown- afraid of what might happen should you leave it unattended. 

Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you took a deep breath, hoping for a moment of peace. But then, you heard it- the chime that had become all too familiar to you. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know who it was. The devil you’ve come to know, Raphael.

“My my, what quarry has the fox come to claim, I wonder? A timid mouse, secreting away a treasure, meant for the fox's taking?” You could feel how his chest pressed against your back, a comforting warmth seeping into your very being. Ever so slightly, your lips parted as a silent invitation, welcoming him into the sanctuary of your body.

“But at what cost?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he reached around you, his fingers tracing up your arm before grabbing your hand softly. He lifted it to get a better look at your blood stained hands, the evidence of your struggle obtaining the crown for him.

There was a pause, a moment where neither of you moved, before finally, you felt the warm, wet glide of his mouth, pressing against your neck. His hand never leaving yours, “You did well, my little mouse, to obtain such a crown for me. You deserve a reward.”

Raphael’s fingers curled tighter around your own, his other hand finding its way around your waist as he held you firmly against him, “Come.”

The dimly lit room was replaced by a secluded area in the midst of a forest. A wooden tub stood at the center, filled to the brim with steaming water, ready to welcome you.

With his much larger hand still resting within yours, the devil guided you towards the tub. The warmth of the water was inviting, and you swore you could feel the tension in your body begin to ease just at the sight of it.

“This seems very unlike you, Raphael. I thought this was too quaint for your tastes, and far too mundane.” You remarked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice as you turned to face him, a coy smile on your lips.

He gave you a smile in return, but it was different from his usual, condescending one. It was softer, almost warm- a stark contrast to his usual demeanor, “Where I agree, this is still far too quaint for my tastes, this adversary, this devil- desires only the finest and most exquisite of treasures. And the best requires a certain measure of tenderness, of indulgence, of devotion, do they not?”

You could feel a heat rise in your cheeks at his words, and the way his voice seemed to send shivers down your spine. Your breath- it caught in your throat as you tried to speak, all you could do was nod as he released your hand. His fingers slowly working at the buttons on his doublet, before he slid it off his shoulders, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You watched as the fabric slid down his surprisingly toned form, before falling to the ground, a pool of cloth at his feet. As he moved to undo his tunic-

“Here, let me…” You were surprised by your own forwardness, Raphael said nothing, allowing you to undress him.

The devil looked at you curiously, a glimmer of something flashing in his eyes as your hands made work of the laces on his tunic.

Soon his own hands found their way beneath your lightly padded armor, removing it slowly, teasingly, before he tells you, "Turn." His hands traveling lower until they hooked within your pants, pulling them down your bruised legs, his lips ghosting along one of your thighs...

Once you were both bare, he helped you into the tub, the warm water washing over your skin. You let out a soft sigh of content, the feeling was heavenly, especially after the hardships you endured for him.

After a moment, Raphael joined you, the water rising with the added weight. He took his place behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, the contact making your heart beat rapidly in your chest.

With his legs on either side of you, Raphael pulled you against his chest, his head resting on your shoulder. One of his hands traced lazy circles on your skin, while the other rested on your stomach, his thumb brushing gently back and forth.

“You say this is my reward... Or are you just trying to butter me up so you can kill me while my guard is down and take the crown? If so, you could have just done that. You don't have to go through all this trouble. I don't have any power over you at the moment, Raphael.”

His hold on you tightened, his fingers digging into the flesh of your stomach, making wince slightly, “If I had any intention of ending your life, I would have done it the moment we met.” He growled, “Instead, I find myself fond of you, longing to feel you close and by my side as I weave together the nine hells. Now relax.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting yourself relax into his chest. It wasn't long before he started to recite a poem, his voice low. It was calming, soothing. You couldn't help but wonder if this is how he sounded when he sang- you could easily listen to him for hours, just like this. With the sound of snap you saw how a sponge appeared in his hand and without a word he started to wash your skin with a surprising tenderness.

Your whole body stiffened under his touch, his gentle caresses sending a tingle down your tummy to the place between your thighs as he moved his hands slowly, taking his time as he washed away the dried blood. You let out a soft moan as his hands began to wander lower, the sponge tracing patterns on your inner thighs.

His hand slipped between your legs, parting them just enough so he could slide his fingers up and down the length of your slit, teasingly. His mouth against your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he spoke, “So quiet, my little mouse, I didn't take you as the type to get so easily flustered. I must say, I quite like this look on you- so innocent, so helpless, it's... enticing. But, then again, what is innocence to a devil? Nothing more than a toy to be corrupted, is it not?”

“Raphael, I- I-“ your voice trailed off, words failing you as his fingers slid between your folds, teasing the sensitive bud there. You gasped, your back arching into him. You could feel the smirk against your skin, his teeth grazing against the flesh of your shoulder.

“That's it, let yourself go. Allow me to take care of you, to indulge in you. Let me hear your beautiful voice as I make you mine. Sing for me, my little mouse, sing for your devil and he shall reward you…"

His words, his touch, his very presence. It was all intoxicating. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, your face flushing at the sensation. It was so much, yet not enough. You craved more of him. You wanted to give him everything.

Raphael's free hand found its way up to your neck, his fingers gently wrapping around it, his touch featherlight. You felt a pressure build in your chest as his grip tightened, a whimper escaping your lips as you squirmed beneath his touch, “please, Raphael, please... I- I- can't- I can't take it. I-“

A soft chuckle left his lips, his fingers tightening around your neck, his other hand moving faster, harder. You cried out, your hips bucking wildly as you were overcome with pleasure. You felt yourself begin to peak, the coil in your belly tightening until finally, it snapped, “Raphael~!” You cried out his name as your body convulsed with the waves of pleasure that washed over you, your body trembling in his arms.

Your body slumped against him, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you tried to catch your breath. He released his grip on your neck, a small, satisfied smile on his lips as he watched you.

“Perhaps now you’ll be able to relax, little mouse, and enjoy your bath. Enjoy your reward, and allow yourself to bask in the aftermath of my touch. I'm sure there's more where that came from.”

Your mind was a mess, a jumbled, incoherent mess of thoughts and feelings. All you could do was tilt your head and stare at him in a daze, his words barely registering as he washed the rest of the blood off your skin, the sponge gently grazing over your stomach and arms.

Shifting yourself against him, you used him as a pillow, as a bed within the waters of the tub, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you.

You couldn't help but smile as you closed your eyes, the feeling of his hand combing through your hair soothing, relaxing. You could stay like this forever you thought. Could live in this moment, in this feeling- his hands on you, his warmth around you…

Devil he was, yes… But right now, Raphael was a comfort to you.

“Raphael, would you sing for me?”

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that rumbled in his chest, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin beneath your ear, “Sing? My my, you are rather demanding, aren't you? I suppose I can't deny you such a simple request. After all, this devil does have a soft spot for the little mouse that's come into his care, his keeping, his possession...”

His voice was deep, his tone melodic and pleasant as he started to sing, his words slow, his voice powerful. It was a lullaby, a song from the past. A song that made you think of simpler times, happier times. A song that made you feel safe, secure.

You closed your eyes, listening intently as his voice echoed throughout the forest, filling the air with its melody…

Suddenly, a wave of panic began to wash over you as a realization dawned on you… You were falling in love with Raphael, the devil you’ve come to know… The devil who just a few days ago, would have killed you, or worse- tortured and tormented you for fun.

The devil who now sang for you, comforted you, and bathed you. The devil who made you his, claimed you. The devil who, in a short amount of time, had made himself a place in your life, a home in your heart.

Your eyes opened, the panic fading as quickly as it came, 

‘What is innocence to a devil? Nothing more than a toy to be corrupted, is it not?’

A Devil he is…

You tilted your head up, looking at him.

A Devil he is…

His soft brown eyes were fixed on you, a faint smile on his lips.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck, a smile on your lips.

Yes, indeed. A devil he is, yes, a devil that had fallen in love with you just as you had fallen for him.

[stayteezdreams]

Spoiled With Love

Plot: Chris decides the best way to spend your birthday is by spoiling you as much as he can

Pairing: Christopher/Bang Chan x Gn!Reader

Requested by @thunderous-wolf

Warnings(?): Use of pet-names and a lot of fluff

Words: 1.4k

You rushed to the door with glee before yanking it open. Your smile turned to amusement as Chris stood at your doorstep, arms full with various bags and boxes.

"Wha- Chris, this seems like a lot more than just breakfast."

Even while struggling Chris had a bright smile on his face. "It's your birthday, I'm spoiling you!"

Moving aside as he came in, you let out a chuckle, "It's too much Chris!"

He giggled, "It's not all breakfast, it's other stuff too, which you will find out about later."

Placing everything down on the kitchen counter he grinned before turning to you. Stepping forward he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek, then to your nose, before finally kissing you on the lips.

When he pulled away you grinned at each other. "Happy Birthday baby."

You smiled before pecking his lips in return. "Thank you."

Grabbing you by your shoulders, he spun you around before leading you towards the living room. "Now, go hang out in the living room while I set things up."

"What? Don't you want help?"

"Nope, it needs to be a surprise."

"But-"

He plopped you down on the couch before pointing a finger in warning at you. "No buts! And no peeking."

You pouted before a smile broke out, "Fine, I'll wait here."

He grinned and nodded before running back into the kitchen happily, making you giggle.

Not long passed before you heard the sound of toppling objects and a few whispered curses. You peered towards the kitchen before calling out.

"You sure you don't need help?"

"Everything's fine!" He yelled back, obviously panicked, making you roll your eyes and chuckle under your breath.

Your stomach was filled with butterflies as you wondered what exactly Chris was doing. He always tried to spoil you, especially on occasions like birthdays. And as many times as you told him there was no need, it always made you feel special.

A hundred tik-toks later, and the smell of food filling the living room making you hungry, Chris finally appeared, a bit breathless but smiling. "Alright, it's ready!"

You grinned as you stood up, taking his hand that he had reached out towards you. As you followed him into the kitchen, you grinned at the sight in front of you.

Lied out across the kitchen counter were trays of various foods. Pastries and fruit you could tell came from somewhere expensive, your favorite breakfast foods, and coffee all set up for the two of you to enjoy.

At the edge of the table sat a beautiful bouquet of flowers, balloons, a large card and a few bag and boxes you figured were the presents you told him not to spend too much on.

Turning to Chris you hugged him, "Thank you, I love it. It all looks so great!"

He pecked your nose, "I'm glad. The card is signed by all of the guys."

You smiled as you looked over at the card.

"And the presents are for later." He added on.

You let out a dramatic gasp, "What so I get to look at them, but not open them?"

He nodded and you pouted, "Mean."

He chuckled, "Lets eat before it gets cold okay?"

You nodded as you sat own, his hand resting on your leg as you picked at various foods.

"Where are these from?" You asked with a groan as you ate a delicious scone.

"Not telling!"

You glared at him, knowing it was because he didn't want you to know how much he had spent on you.

"But it's so good, I might want to get some more!"

"I'll buy you as many as you want." He countered and you playfully glared at him, making him chuckle.

You quickly gave up, knowing you wouldn't win and read through all of the messages from the boys in the card as you ate. You smiled at each message and joke, and felt your chest grow warm.

When you were full from all of the food, you helped pack up the rest of the pastries and fruit for later. Suddenly, Chris wrapped his arms around you from behind and you grinned before you squeezed his arms with your hands.

"Okay, you can open one present, but just one okay?"

You grinned at him and nodded. "Do I get to pick?"

He nodded and you waddled over to the presents as he remained attached to you.

He giggled as you hummed, trying to decide which one to open first. Grabbing the biggest box, you drug it towards you and he chuckled.

"I knew you'd go for that one."

When you finally got the box open, you found it was full of all of your favorite teas. Some bags, some loose leaf. You grinned and looked over at him.

"These are all my favorites!"

"Of course they are!" He said with a grin, "Any time you tell me something is your favorite I make sure to remember it."

You felt warmth fill you as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're too sweet. Thank you."

He caressed the side of your face, "You're welcome baby. I love you. Do you want to have some before we go?"

"Go?" You asked perplexed and you saw realization cross his features.

"Did I not tell you we were going out?" You shook your head and he hissed, "Oops."

"Chris!" You said half-serious as you lightly smacked his shoulder.

"Sorry sorry! But I promise you'll enjoy it okay?"

You hummed under your breath, as excitement secretly coursed through you.

The surprise trip consisted of an hour long drive filled with laughter and karaoke. When you arrived, it was at a large and beautiful nature park. You walked, and talked, took photos, ate ice cream, saw various animals, and had some drinks at an outdoor cafe before having lunch at a nearby restaurant Chris had reserved previously.

You climbed back in the car after a few hours, a few trinkets and a plush Chris bought you in hand, ready for the ride back home. Which seemed to pass much quicker than the ride there, though you weren't sure if you preferred that or not.

By the time you had gotten home, you were already starting to build up an appetite for dinner, which you knew would be shared with the others, who planned to come by later to celebrate with you.

Chris had told you previously, that the day was just for you and him, while the evening could be with everyone. You were perfectly okay with the idea, as you loved nothing more than spending time with Chris. And so far your birthday had been perfect.

Back home, you sat down on the couch as Chris ran off to the kitchen. You were confused by this, until he came back out with your presents in hand.

He grinned at you, "Time for prezzies!"

"Prezzies?" You asked with a laugh and he just chuckled.

In the first two presents, there was cute stationary for your office, and some of your favorite fragrances. The next two presents made you feel more emotional however.

The first was a jacket that matched one of his. It was one you adored, but often complained about being too big for you to properly wear.

When you pulled it on, his familiar smell washed over you. "You sprayed it with your cologne?"

He nodded with a smile "So it'll be like you're wearing mine."

You grinned, kissing him on the cheek. He slid over the last present, something in a small bag. Inside was a beautiful bracelet, as you admired it, Chris pulled up his own sleeve, to reveal he was wearing a matching one.

"You got us couple bracelets?" You grinned, feeling a bit emotional.

Chris noticing this, cooed at you before pulling you into his chest, "So cute." He teased.

"Shhh" You shushed him but wrapped your arms round his neck and pressed another kiss to his cheek. "I love it Chris, I love everything, thank you."

"You're welcome baby."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

The rest of the evening went just as well, when the boys showed up with their loud cheers and various out-of-tune birthday songs. You received various presents from them, ranging from a painting by Hyunjin, to a creepy doll from Lee Know that you were certain was haunted.

To end the night, Chris brought out a beautiful cake for you that he had apparently hid in the fridge to surprise you.

You couldn't feel more special, spoiled, or happy than today, and you knew it was all because of Chris. Well, and a little bit because of the boys, but you'd never give them too much credit, you'd never hear the end of it

xx End xx

<3 <3

General Taglist: @otsilliak

Stray Kids Taglist: @laylasbunbunny, @skz1-4-3, @prettymiye0n

[genericpuff]

Why is the art so unappealing in lore Olympus now Persephone looks like a highlighter and maybe it’s just me but the proportions like the fingers in arms are soul over the place I don’t think they used to be this bad. Am I just looking at it with nostalgia or am I crazy ?

Honestly, nostalgia does play a huge part in it, even to this day there are times I look back on old S1 panels and go-

Actually here's a great example that literally just happened yesterday in the ULO Discord that nearly had me on the floor LOL This is from Episode 70:

Like I didn't even believe that that was real until I was told what episode it was from and I was just. Astounded and flabbergasted. The over-shading of the blanket that just makes it look like a really bad edit. Insane.

And yeah, there are a lot of old panels that hit different now that the rose-colored glasses have been removed, crushed, and thrown into the trash compactor.

I think that's why it makes it all the more amusing when people come into my inbox and ask me "wait, why did you like LO to begin with?? It's always been ugly as shit, I think you're just romanticizing it" because like... there's something to be said about art and subjectivity, even if something is ugly to one person doesn't mean it isn't beautiful to someone else. It's why I try not to be too mean towards the fans of this comic for still enjoying it, because while I definitely have strong opinions about how "LO has gotten worse" and what kind of following Rachel has cultivated (cough cough), there are also just as equally valid arguments that LO has never begin good to begin with that I can't necessarily disagree with now that I'm looking back on it with a more critical eye.

That said, there's tons of media that I enjoy that is objectively awful. Like y'all, you don't need to take my opinions about a dumb pink x blue fantasy romance comic seriously, I like Starfox Adventures-

Like yeah it's a badly made rushed piece of shit that was developed right on the ass end of Rare's glory days and was really an original IP (Dinosaur Planet) that got Frankenstein'd into a Starfox game so it could "sell better" for Nintendo, but I don't give a fuck, I love Starfox Adventures and some day I wanna be in the top 10 speedrunner leaderboards for it, which I know doesn't mean much because no one is speedrunning Starfox, but I do and no one can take that away from me dammit-

Anyways. Lore Olympus has, in many regards, always had "bad art". But "bad art" can and should still be enjoyed by those who find joy in it.

And in LO's case, the world it existed in when it launched was a lot smaller than it is now - more specifically, the world of Webtoons. We can look back and see how 'bad' LO looks and reads now because there are genuinely way better comics surrounding it. It was unique and refreshing and experimental back then... now it's just "that stupid blue and pink comic for horny teenagers".

In most cases I would consider that "cringing in hindsight" feeling a good thing because normally it means something has grown and that it seeming "bad" in hindsight would mean that it's outgrown itself and moved onto bigger things. But LO has the more unique problem of "its current stuff is shit and it's making us want the old stuff more, even if the old stuff wasn't good either". In that regard, LO is closer to being like Harry Potter. Remember when The Cursed Child came out at the height of Rowling being exposed for being a TERF and even people who liked Harry Potter didn't like The Cursed Child because it was just objectively worse overall (with or without Rowling's bullshit attached)? It made a lot of people go back and re-read / rewatch Harry Potter with a more objective lens and go "wait a minute guys, I think we only adored these books so much because we were 12 when we read them". Often times it's the good memories we have surrounding certain things that make us have the opinion about them that we do.

Of course, LO is definitely not as politically weaponized as Harry Potter is, so that's where that comparison ends. But my point is that LO is definitely in a situation where it's been riding off the same privileges it had back in 2018 - having an 'experimental' art style while also utilizing tropes and characters that were VERY popular at the time (remember that 2017-18 was when Tumblr was at its height of H x P "Hades was a chill accountant guy who wore socks and sandals and didn't cheat on his wife like Zeus did" fantasizing) - and thinks that those same tricks and tropes will still work today.

Because of this, the art in LO really, really hasn't aged well, even the stuff that we look back on fondly. But I think it's the panels that we specifically think of when remembering "old LO" - the ones that stuck in our memories the most - that are the ones that make us miss or just not care about the panels that don't look good (the panels that make people question why we ever liked it to begin with).

We liked it because of how it made us feel to look at panels like these-

Those genuinely wonderful panels that we think back on the most don't exist separately from the bad panels, they exist in spite of them. Even if we can look back on panels like these and pick out problems in the lineart or the proportions or the color travelling outside of the lines, that can't and shouldn't change how those panels made us feel at some point or another. And that's why when people ask me "why were you even into LO in the first place" I don't have any one answer, because I can't fully explain how something made me feel to justify why it's good to someone who can see from the outside - without rose-colored glasses - that it evidently isn't. It's very much a "you had to be there" type of thing.

Unfortunately, nowadays even the 'best' LO panels in S3 still don't come close to what the S1 panels accomplished - because for many of us, the rose-colored glasses are gone, we can't appreciate the good among the bad because we know now how bad it truly is and so the good just feels like wasted attempts at trying to recreate something it can no longer be. It "came back wrong" so to speak.

LO came back just regular. But our journey to resurrecting it changed us to such a degree that even its closest intimacies are now foreign to us. Sorry dude.

This is still probably one of my favorite panels out of the entirety of S3 for being as close to "old LO" as I've seen since S2, and even it feels like a mistake, an accident, how could a panel like this exist in S3 when so much of it is a dumpster fire? It's like a flower growing in the ruins of an apocalyptic wasteland.

But wasn't that always the case? Isn't that 'always' what LO has been, since the very beginning? A poorly cobbled together mess of writing and panels that, every now and then, manages to leave an impression that makes you feel something? Did we ever truly know LO? Or have we just been relying entirely on an idea of it that we've built up in our heads that when it does do exactly what it's evidently always done (even if not made apparent until looking back on it in hindsight) we think it "came back wrong"?

[glassrowboat]

Cinderella. Pantalone.

Summary: You didn't mean to be stranded out on the steps to the palace with a broken shoe, but some things are more like a fairy tale than one would think. It's only a shame your prince charming is a fucking dick.

Warnings: an exuberant amount of cussing, mentions of death, and the upperclass

Word count: 2500+

The sound of shoes clacking on the pavement was the first sign you were no longer as alone as once thought. A solid click, the pristine shine of black leather, and a silver buckle that somehow shined even in the cold night air when the brightest light near you was a streetlamp at most ten feet away. The fact there wasn't a very particular someone's insignia ingrained in that black already felt like a miracle given the man's pride. He did so love to adorn himself in finery.

“Regrator.”

“Miss (y/n), a pleasure as always.” He didn't even pretend to not notice your current state, his eyes might as well be full of mirth as he gazed down at you sitting on the steps leading up to a cursed banquet you had to attend. The event was already in full swing yet here you sat outside as if the clamor of voices and music playing couldn't be heard. “I hope you have not gotten yourself into another problem.”

Teasing now, of all times, really?

It was already fully evident he knew what was going on, how could he not? A shoe in your hand a broken off heel in the other made it clear there was in fact a problem. The contraption had wronged her. “I think it's rather obvious, is it not? Or do you need a new prescription for those glasses of yours?”

He didn't even bother to give an interesting reply back as he simply laughed off the jab like it was water on a ducks back. Something that wasn't event relevant enough to be addressed. “I see now, that does appear to be a problem.”

Wow. I had no fucking clue.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance to you?” His voice was musing as ever, too gentle to be real. Just the same way he acts in the middle of a business deal.

“Oh?” You looked up at him, eyes tearing off those shiny shoes you were admittedly jealous of in this moment. Any other day you might just consider spitting on them but circumstances have changed. “Tell me trousers, for amusements sake only, what could you possibly do to help me in this hour of need? Maybe you'd do the same thing Scaramouche did as he passed me by only minutes prior, telling me to walk barefoot in the snow.”

“Oh my, it would be a mad man who would dare try.” At least he understood that compared to the puppe- “Back to calling me trousers now, miss? I thought we grew past that.”

“Maybe you did.” If only the poison on your tongue was enough to sway him enough to slip off a step and fall past the railing with a nice, satisfying kurplunk. “Well seeing as my night is perfectly ruined, how has yours been going?”

"Oh, not too bad myself I must say." Pantalone's voice was calm and smooth as usual, as if nothing really affected him much. "I've been attending to a few important matters as part of my responsibilities, but now I have some free time to spend. I suppose I may have found something to do with it now."

How annoyingly easy it was for him to lie, to show no tell at all. No pinch in the eyebrow, no change in tone, not even looking else where to avoid eye contact. Truly a professional. If it weren't for the fact you had personally seen Pantalone repeatedly having to brush off the same man with a rather boring sounding business proposal you would have truly believed him. His irritation had been clear then even as that smile remained. What a talent to have, to lie easier than he breathed.

Slowly, steadily Pantalone made his was down the stairs you sat upon until he was stood before you. A kind face to be shown as he looked down at the object of your plight. “It's a rather pretty pair of shoes. A pity one of them has been torn apart. Do you think we can find you another pair in a store nearby?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I'll pass.”

It would be a fool who agrees to be in debt to the regrator, a favor or otherwise.

One of his perfectly manicured eyebrows rose as he looked down at you, almost like he was shocked at the rejection to his offer. The amusement however was clear in his face. "Is something the matter? It would be unfortunate to stay here barefoot in the cold. Though I can't say I didn't expect that answer. You are quite the character.”

“Says you. How great a character you are that your very own name is ripped from a play.”

You weren't even honored with a reply. You never are. 

“Do you live nearby, miss?”

“Yeah. Maybe like ten minutes down that street,” you pointed to the left, finger blocking one of the many piles of snow on the street. “Then you- Close. I'm close by.”

Why the fuck was I telling him this?

“I see.” 

With the wave of a hand covered in what had to be the finest of fabrics for gloves (probably something that's been hand spun by poor widows for years as they labor over raw cotton) and glittering silver Pantalone called over an attendant. Her short frame quickly moving over like she felt the need to be as efficient as possible. As to why? Well, the answer is obvious. You don't defy a harbinger. You don't deny them. You can only hope to please the over hyped power houses of Snezhaya, especially if one of them is your boss. 

“You are far too easy to easy to read, miss (y/n).” Without so much as a glance towards this woman's way he takes something from her hand. A little bottle of sorts you can't read the label of with a red cap. That is until he moves his bejeweled fingers away to give you a chance to peek at the words printed out. “One day your pride will be the end of you.”

And I hope your end will be just as pathetic as you.

Huffing you try and ignore the savior that he's holding in his hand. Shoe glue, just what you need. “Why do you even have that?”

Not even bothering to address you Pantalone tells the attendant she's excused. The same rush as when she ran over showing as she bowed to you both. “Lord harbinger. Miss (y/n).” 

And there she goes.

“Cmon slacks, gimme something I can reply to that isn't your typical droning. Otherwise I might just start mistaking your voice for those inside.” The same chatter that might as well be ringing on your ear as it grows louder and louder throughout the night. Alcohol may loosen lips, but it also apparently makes everyone too deaf to hear properly. If either of you were to go back inside surely you'd be cringing everytime someone walks by as they think it's a great idea to address someone all the way across the great hall.

“I bore you as much as ever then.” With a chuckle Pantalone holds the bottle out before you, dangling it like bait on a string, and you were the fish he was waiting for to take a bite. Warning label flashing your vision. “I could tell you how La Signora once broke her heel and simply combusted with fury. Though that wouldn't be true, she wouldn't be caught dead wearing something cheap enough to break just like that.”

Always has to have a smart reply, doesn't he? All the while you're running low on quips as this guy proves his default setting is exhausting everyone around him. The charming man one might mistake him as with a simple glance was truly such a farce. “Thanks, but I'd rather rip the boots off of some poor, unsuspecting sod then let you do something for me.”

With a click of his tongue Pantalone pulls the bottle back away from you, the shining light of hope that it was being stolen like the donations from an alms box under the nose of a priest. “Ahh yes, the fear of owing the ninth harbinger. It is a daunting cloud to loom so heavily.”

Of course it was. He may sound and look as pretty as a picture but under those silver spectacles were eyes that could only be satisfied with the sight of mora in his palm. Those that denied him such a sight had a habit of going home to a few broken objects, being randomly beaten down out of the blue on their merry way back home, and lastly disappearing in the same way your clouds of breath blown out into the cold air of the blizzard covered nation did. There was no god to pray to that could help escape him, no matter which archons name uttered.

“How about I offer you a deal,” Pantalone asked, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. It was as if the very mention of any sort of ‘business’ had him rearing to go. Cocky bastard.

It's just a shame you had nothing to say. Another comment would have this back and forth going until either a: you get interrupted by one of the guests, b: he decides toying with you has lost its charm (an unlikely event but still one can dream), and lastly c: you bite the bullet and make a ten minute walk home in a broken shoe through snowy and icy streets you'd surely be slipping and sliding over. A face plant or two might just be worth it though.

“No objections then. As for our deal, I shall assist this damsel in distress with fixing her shoe and in turn you tell no one of this.” As if he was already certain you'd agree in a heartbeat, probably in his minds even with stars glittering around you like a scene from a shojo manga panel, Pantalone plucked the broken shoe and heel from your hands. “I'd say you would be getting the better end of the deal here tonight. You do need to get home, don't you?”

I do, and he knows that. Prick.

 “Fine. Deal or whatever.”

The fact he didn't immediately pull out a five page contract on the spot was disappointing. Unlikely, but the thought alone would be enough to cause you to laugh if it was anyone else's presence you were in. Instead you sat back on those concrete stairs, watching as the regrator of all people slipped off his rings and placed them to the side. Doesn't want his precious getting dirty then, huh?

“So what's the real reason you have that stuff on you?”

“You truly do believe every word that slips past my lips is a lie,” He stated. Stated, not questioned. “I have found myself working in collaboration with a cobbler recently and I was given this as a free sample of sorts. You were simply lucky with the timing is all.”

Your eyes narrowed as you looked down at him, his gloved hand holding that stupid little bottle in hand as he seems to run over the nails that were supposed to keep the outsole together with ease. He seemed so calm doing this but it could all just be another facade, another act. Only he, himself, and Pantalone knew what was truly going on in that pretty head of his. “I wouldn't call breaking my shoe luck.”

“Perhaps not.” 

“I never asked, just how did that attendant magically have that on hand with a wave of your- well hand.” That could of been worded a bit better. Cmon self, you're slacking here.

“Oh that? I heard of your little plight when I was inside. A noble lady with a mole over her lip, the left side, mentioned a poor miss (y/n) having tripped over her own two feet like a buffoon who then,” without missing a beat as he spoke Pantalone kneeled before you, “ran off as if a headless chicken.” 

“Lovely imagery, slacks. Thank you for that.”

“I am merely repeating what I have heard for you. I wouldn't want you to go unaware of what your fellow ladies have been gossiping about this night.”

And in doing so you purposefully worded it in a way that had the intent to embarrass me. I'm not blind nor deaf but somehow he surely thinks I am both.

“Now then.” Easily he pulled you from your thoughts. Daydreaming cast aside and asunder as his hand wrapped around your ankle. The instant jolt from the movement you were spurred into meaning little as his grip tightened, not even allowing an inch of freedom. “Give the heel some time before you start walking on it, we don't need to disturb the banquet with your dramatics again.”

A part of you wanted to believe Pantalone's hand didn't feel warm because they're just as cold and dead as his heart, but the gloves he dawned and the thermal stockings you used religiously in this winter inferno were enough to say you were just being hopeful. It was better to focus on that little fact than how he was sliding that stiletto on for you. The fact he wasn't looking at your eyes could either be a blessing or make this all worse. In the very least it gave you a chance to figure out that blaming the color burning your cheeks a rosy hue on the low temperatures could be a solid enough lie he wouldn't openly question your bull. 

“Now if you'll excuse me,” Pantalone said, calling your attention back up to his face and not the hand that had just let go of you. “It's about time I head back inside.”

Somehow there wasn't even a speck of dust on his knees as Pantalone stands back up, his perfect little demeanor the same as always without even a wrinkle to be had. Untouchable. Far off from everyone else around him. “I'm sure the Tsarita's little socialite has been missed.”

With a small laugh and a “precisely,” Pantalone steps around you, those same perfect condition having shoes of his hitting the steps with a satisfying click as he walked away. At least this time you weren't gazing upon them with envy. “Remember now miss, no going around gossiping about this.”

As if I'd ever.

“The less your name falls from my lips the better. You do so tend to leave a narly aftertaste. Plus, I have no intention of owing you anything.”

With one last flick of his gaze, one last shine of those spectacles under the streetlamp he looks at you. How unreadable that mask could be when he truly wished it. Maybe it's true what they say, once you wear a mask too long it becomes your face. 

“Have a good night then.”

And with that, he left. The night air your only company.

Good riddance.

—-------

Except now your looking down at a pink box that had been delivered to your house this morning, only a day having gone by since that unlucky encounter with the regrator yet he chose to rub this all in your face. A stink bug of a man, truly. Only there to be a pest that's always somehow present yet you shouldn't bother to do away with. After all, there would be consequences. 

So like any bug he crawled through the cracks of what is supposed to be your home. All with the ease of one delivery man and a letter with the most beautiful handwriting you had ever seen (and annoyingly written in what had to be scented ink). “I believe this means you now owe me a favor.” Signed Pantalone.

How you wanted to spit on the brand new pair of heels before you.

What a dick.

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

The Anomaly || JJK

Chapter 15: Metamorphosis

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

wordcount : 2.3k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, mostly platonic, you're really just part of the story

Masterlist | Next

This time, Sukuna has unceremoniously broken the window of an indoor swimming pool and has thrown you in. 

Most of the buildings were destroyed anyway, most civilians dead. He's not going to lower your or his body in dirty water again. There was absolutely no reason for that. If anyone asks later, he's going to blame the Sukuna hiding away in Yuuji.

Currently, he's at the kiddie pool, where he's put you down, allowing your body to float around in the water.

You look stupid, but your healing has taken effect. It's like your healing ability has adjusted, aiming to become something more perfect.

The entirety of the pool water you're laid in has gotten a golden hue.

You've definitely gotten stronger in this universe while he was gone.

He finds himself lost in thought, his eyes distant as he stares blankly at the water ripples below his feet.

He doesn't realize it when you stir awake.

" Did you.. Did you break into a swimming pool? "

You're blinking up at him as you sit yourself up.

" I'm not answering that."

Right. So he did.

Not very surprising, admittedly.

" Also, next time you're running out of cursed energy, I'm abandoning you."

You smile at his words, moving to get up. You're nowhere near recharged just yet, but you want to help your friends-

" Sit your ass down or I'm slamdunking you."

You blink at him, before folding your legs under you, obediently staying in the water.

Yes, Sukuna was sweet with you, but not sweet enough to lie about something he would find amusement in like that.

You pout.

" Always so mean to me."

He smirks at you, leaning his head in his palm.

" Good girl."

You roll your eyes, splashing water at him.

He's grinning as he dodges.

For a moment, there's a moment of silence between  the two of you.

You move closer to him, seeking the familiar comfort you've always felt in his presence.

Eventually, you're leaning your side against his leg, your head pressed to his knee.

You're soaked for most part, but Sukuna can't find it in himself to care. He never has after all. He cares so much more about you than he would ever be able to put in words.

" Your healing ability has grown stronger." 

His eyes are watching the ripples of the colored water. The colo ur seems to brighten bit by bit as you grow stronger.

" Your reverse cursed technique has gotten stronger?"

You nod.

" I've been healing people here a lot. I've always been told that I should be a healer after all, but I've never used it this much before."

He hums.

He doesn't doubt it. This universe is so much more bloodied up than your own.

" How are things back at home?"

Sukuna glances down at you as you speak. You're playing with the water beneath you, your hands deep in it, before you raise it again, watching as it drips down.

" Your parents don't believe you to be death. They're worried. Made me promise to find you and bring you back home..."

You smile.

" Well, you did find me."

He hums, the sound low.

" At the right time too. That Sukuna of this universe is quite something else. Any idea why he wanted you dead so eagerly?"

You shake your head, the movement gentle against his leg.

" No. He's only told me that I don't belong here."

Sukuna hums, silent for a moment.

" What's his story?"

You shrug.

" I'm not all too sure. He was the king of curses a 1000 years ago. He had four arms, four eyes. He was perhaps the worst force to be reckoned with."

" Four arms and four eyes are cool though."

You raise your nose in disgust, glancing up at him.

" No. It's weird and nasty. What's even more nasty is that they couldn't properly kill him, so he became a cursed object somehow. All 20 of his fingers flow around somewhere. With most of them being eaten by Yuuji."

Sukuna grins as he glances down at you, though that grin fades at the revelation of Yuuji eating them.

" Okay, that's nasty, but still. Remember when he ate a random candy which could've been a drug from the ground a few years ago?"

" He did that because you bullied him into it, asshole."

" Right. I don't remember that part.."

You can hear the smirk in his voice. He most definitely does remember. You tutt shaking your head.

" Can't say I'm surprised even though I am diss-"

" Fuck, Y/N, what if you happened to be alive a 1000 years ago?"

You blink at his sudden theory, turning to face him properly now.

" What?"

" You don't exist in this current timeline of this universe, right?"

" Yeah...?"

" What if you did in this universe' Sukuna's timeline?"

You blink.

" Sukuna, you're not making any sense."

In response, he crosses his arms, rolling his eyes.

" Fuck I forget how dumb you are sometimes."

You lean back, your hands placed on the floor behind you, the water surrounding you rippling with the movement.

" Dumb enough to hang out with you."

He doesn't react to your petty comeback.

" This Sukuna wants you dead. You must've been alive in his lifetime and did something that pissed him off."

He looks borderline annoyed as he explains it to you, although your eyes widen as you finally catch on.

" Oh! That'd actually pretty smart- I didn't know you had that in you."

He snorts, getting up as the water's golden glow dulls. You're all healed up again. He extends a hand.

You take it. He effortlessly pulls you up.

" I have my moments. Anyway, let's get back to this later, let's get back to freeing that white haired moron. It's kinda weird that this is what the universe turns out like when we're not there to save his ass." 

You think about his words as the two of you leave through the window he broke earlier.

" I doubt it. It's not like Geto Suguru is involved. Our enemy must be stronger than that. "

" Suppose so. Must be something on his level. Like that other Sukuna." 

You hum in agreement.

" You're Y/N, right? Kamo Y/N." 

You turn around as the two of you turn the street, your water skin uncapped, your body stance ready to fight. 

Kamo Noritoshi. The one cousin you've always managed to come along with.

However, judging by his wide eyes, you suppose he's not from your world, his focus solemnly on Sukuna.

Sukuna, in response, blinks in boredom.

" Yeah. This is Itadori Sukuna by the way. Not the one Yuuji carries around." 

" B-But the marks." 

" The marks I received with my heavenly restriction. Unbinding me from cursed energy. " 

Sukuna merely raises a brow, now mildy annoyed.

" Soo... What is it?" 

Your question brings Noritoshi's focus back to you.

" A-ah, right. I need you two to come with me. We have a plan." 

-

You blink as you, Sukuna, Noritoshi and Panda approach Yuuji from behind, eyes fixed on the man stood in front of Yuuji.

" Y/N, isn't that...?" 

You nod slowly at Sukuna's question.

" Y-yeah. " 

Geto Suguru.

" Didn't you....?" 

" I wasn't here in this universe, remember?- Gojo sensei, he said he....." 

Sukuna nods.

Meanwhile Panda is checking up on Yuuji, placing one gorilla hand on his shoulder.

" ..You're you, right?" 

" Panda!" 

Yuuji's grinning as he turns to face him.

" Is he the one who sealed Gojo Satoru and has the Prison Realm?" 

Noritoshi appears to be as updated about the situation as you and Sukuna are.

" He has to be. There's no one else who causes that man to tweak-" 

" Most definitely. " 

You hurriedly cut Sukuna off, sending him an annoyed side glance which he chooses to ignore.

" Apparantly. What's so fun about walking around with that public nuisance?" 

Sukuna smirks at Panda's words, while you shake your head.

The disrespect is real.

" Who is he?" 

" That's Geto Suguru's face. But we don't know who's behind it." 

Behind it..?

Meanwhile, the man with Geto Suguru's face turns, smiling.

" Hey, Choso." 

Your eyes widen, as you shift uncomfortably.

Sukuna raises a brow in question at you. Meanwhile Yuuji's eyes widen.

" He's..." 

You turn to him in question. Has he come across him too.

" It appears you have noticed." 

" So that's the deal?! Kamo Noritoshi!" 

Your eyes widen, turning to the guys you recognize as your cousin behind you. Everyone around you does the same, with Noritoshi even pointing a questioning finger at himself.

" Me?!" 

" Huh, what is he talking about?" 

" The stain of the Kamo clan. The vilest sorcerer in all of history. If what he says is true, then whatever's hiding in Geto must be over 150 years old." 

" Kamo Noritoshi is one of my many names. Call me whatever you like." 

" You...! How dare you make me try to kill my little brother Itadori?!" 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an unfamiliar person with a red stain in their white hair appears, stepping in between Kamo Noritoshi and Choso. Their eyes shift to Sukuna beside you for a moment, before returning their full attention back to Choso.

" Stand down, third rate. Don't make me wait any longer." 

" Move it! I'm his older brother!" 

Choso doesn't say anything else, gathering his own blood in the palms of his hands which are clasped together, and aiming them at the stranger.

Behind you, your cousin's eyes widen.

" Blood manipulation?!" 

Sukuna smirks beside you, obviously amused.

" Oooh, this finna be good." 

You send him an incredulous side glance. Is this dude serious?

Choso is one hell of a fighter. He's amazing, sending two attacks of piercing blood closely after one another, before somehow managing to move the very earth with it, trapping Geto/Kamo up there with him. He places his palms against the ground he raised, and his blood splatters through. Right after, he sends piercing blood again and again, aiming at Geto who has used one of his curses to fly. Their fight is explosive.

At least, from Choso's side it is. Geto is calm. Accepting attack after attack, avoiding them with a smile each time. In some messed up way, it almost looks like he's having fun.

" I'm so glad you can nullify that." 

Sukuna's smirking, his eyes on the fight in front of him. You hum. You can't imagine what your fight would've been like if you had been up against that.

" Same." 

Noritoshi glances at you, evidently surprised.

" Y-you can nullify blood manipulation?" 

You hum, not even looking at him as you answer.

" How?" 

" Water manipulation. Blood is made up of 60% water." 

Yuuji's glancing at you, finally understanding how Ryomen Sukuna had been stuck mid attack when he tried to kill you. You had been the one in control of his body for that split second. Not Sukuna. The realization of you having that kind of power kind of terrifies him. However, before he can question anything, Panda speaks.

" Just to be clear, you two aren't related, are you?" 

" Absolutely not. He almost killed me." 

Yuuji shrugs off the remainder of his uniform shirt, the fabric having already hung on by just a thread. You hope he won't get cold.

" First it was Todo.- You emitting some weird kind of pheromones or something?" 

" Sukuna was the second though.-"

" Shutup woman, that's different." 

You grin, bullying your best friend just slightly. 

Noritoshi ignores your banter.

" Still, he has created a disturbance. We must use it to our advantage." 

Yuuji wipes the blood off of him, and you watch him concerned.

" Yuuji, want me to heal you before we engage in another fight?" 

He doesn't look at you as he shakes his head.

" No. I'm fine. Heal me later." 

Unbeknownst to you, he won't ask you to heal him later, stuck in guilt for when Ryomen Sukuna tried to kill you. He feels he's undeserving of your healing abilities currently.

" I still have two cores left, so I'll go out front. If we all attack at once, we can create an opening.We gotta retrieve the prison realm at all costs!" 

All of you charge forward after that. And you're not the only ones. from the other sides, your allies are joining you.

However, none of you make it far.

" Ice formation: Frost Calm." 

Your eyes widen, and before any of you realize, you're stuck in a very thick layer of ice.

Beside Sukuna, Yuuji breaks free, breaking the banter between Geto and this stranger (you hadn't bothered listening to them.) Next, he frees Choso, who has in a tight situation, with the icy stranger pointing a very sharp icy finger at him.

" Whose body do you think that is?!" 

The icy stranger appears rather displeased with Yuuji.

Are they an ally of Ryomen Sukuna?

" You're our ally right?" 

" No!" 

" Hue?!" 

" I'm your brother.-" 

You stop following their banter after that, focusing on the ice formation surrounding you (which is also starting to rain down of you, as the stranger releases another ice based technique.

However, it never reaches any of you.

Someone else joins the scene just at the same time as you manage to wiggle your hand.

Ice is made up of water after all.

And Tsukumo Yuki has arrived.

[ A/N:  I know I mentioned before that his marks were tattoos but I changed it bc I realized that that's too many tattoos for someone who's 16.]

The Anomaly Taglist

@luxylucylou @kalulakunundrum @strxbxrrylover @aethersslave @jenniferrvsesi @hanatsuki-hime @betizda @sh0uk1 @nymphsdomain @suppeepsandweebs

[bberetd]

I woke up in a cutesy fluffy mood today so I’m dumping my cutesy fluffy mood onto these goons 🚶‍♀️

This takes place one day post-marriage!

==

Bright

He woke up with the blinding orange-tinted sunlight in his eyes. It took him a while to stir, trying to remember if he was real or not. It wasn’t until he moved his arms that he realized they felt stiff, so he outstretched them from their current position, then moved them back onto the wonderfully soft and silk object he was holding.

Wait, what am I holding?

Luigi cast his eyes up in thought and slight fear. A small, paranoid part of him that maybe it was one of those good dreams gone bad where he would discover that it was a giant spider he was holding and devour him whole once he made eye contact. But he took a chance and ran his right hand down the material, and the curiosity immediately faded away; he recognized that feeling from anywhere. He tilted his head down, enough to see his beautiful princess sleeping against him, or at least the top of her hair and forehead, since her face was buried in his chest.

He smiled tiredly, now comfortably combing his hand through the back of her suddenly larger-looking hair. Humidity had never been kind to Daisy; she would always wake up with a hundred percent frizzier hair. It got worse as she got older, and because of this, she had to wake up earlier in the mornings, as it would take more time to make it look normal again. They both couldn’t help but wonder what powers above in the Overthere gave her this curse. As far as Daisy could remember, she had always been well-behaved. Pretty much.

But the frizz unveiled the true volume of Daisy’s hair, and it just gave Luigi more to run his hands through, so it was a win in his book. He brought his left arm up to pet her bangs, pulling her closer in the process. That was when his eyes registered the shiny diamond on his ring finger, and everything snapped into place: He was holding his wife. And he, he was a husband! The knowledge was enough to make his heart jump and further wake him up. His reality was further confirmed as he felt the same rock gently pressing onto his back from Daisy’s own finger.  The room suddenly felt a lot brighter. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be holding the most beautiful woman in Sarasaland, hell, all the kingdoms in this world, so closely and intimately, and call him his, and him hers.

Luigi felt Daisy’s eyelashes flutter against his chest, a surefire sign that she was waking up, making his smile grow. He leaned in and whispered against her forehead. “Buongiorno, Fiore.”

Daisy made a sleepy noise, clutching and unclutching the back of his shirt, which in Daisinese (a language Luigi and their friends proudly created) meant, “I’m awake, but I’m too tired to talk.” Luigi couldn’t help but let out a light huff of amusement. Sleepy Daisy was a hard contrast from awake and chipper Daisy. One of the things that he found cute about her was how she was a grabber in her sleep, clenching her hand around anything it came into contact with. In some moments when she was napping, Luigi would hover over her and place his hand where their hands would meet. Normally, her face was resting in her sleep, but when her hand would unknowingly close around Luigi’s, a small smile would form on her face, as if she could feel his presence.

Daisy held Luigi a bit tighter in her half-asleep state, mumbling something incoherent against his chest. Luigi chuckled lightly.

“Wake up, you,” he teased before planting several light kisses on her forehead, which resulted in tired, muffled giggles from Daisy, and the shaking of her head. He pulled back slightly and looked for his next favorite spot on Daisy’s face: her freckles, dotted and perfectly aligned on the top of her cheeks. He leaned in again to kiss each and every one of them, further stirring Daisy awake.

“Stooooooooopp,” she laughed, moving her arms to push at Luigi’s chest. Normally, fifty percent of Daisy’s power would be enough to knock Luigi off the bed, but she was sleepy and hardly trying, letting him win even. Luigi laughed with her, grabbing both her hands in his own and smiling from ear to ear.

“Then wake up!”

Daisy’s eyes finally opened, in slow motion it felt like, and they met Luigi’s. She gave him a goofy smile before moving her eyes down to their joined hands, taking note of the rings on their finger. Her smile softened, but then brightened, looking back up to Luigi. “Morning… hubby.”

Luigi gave her a playful but heartfelt smile. “Morning… wifey.” His face twisted up slightly at how the word sounded coming out of his mouth. And a silent, agreeing single nod from Daisy confirmed that he would never say that again. But it was back to smiles after that.

“Nooo. Italian-ify it or something. I like when you do that.” Daisy smiled sweetly.

Luigi thought for a moment before the term popped into his head and tried his greeting again. “Okay, then. Good morning, moglie.”

Daisy blushed and giggled like an idiot, using their now entwined hands to cover her mouth. She loved how smoothly Italian rolled off his tongue. “Much better.” She tugged on his hands, pulling him in for a tender morning kiss.

Luigi smiled into the kiss, closing his eyes. Today would definitely be a good day.

==

[starswritewhispers]

no longer human, less than a man [Chapter 2]

Chapter 1

A03

Summary : The gods had abandoned humanity long before Osamu Dazai was born, but his existence quickly grew to become a beacon of hope. Where he would walk, whispers would follow and murmurs of a path back to the gods quickly grew to battle cries. When he and his two companions went missing on one of their journeys to godhood, the cries quieted down to murmurs and whispers until eventually, both they and the gods were nothing more than myths.

Nobody had accounted for Dazai not only becoming successful in finding the lost shrine, but achieving the godhood that came with it.

For 80 years, he was left alone in his divinity, until a drunk college student stumbled upon the shrine of chaos.

OR Chuuya and Dazai are gods reborn

“Get in the closet,” Chuuya demanded, shoving desperately at Dazai’s chest as the clear sound of his apartment door opening rang through the silence. Dazai merely stared down at him with a bemused expression, flickers of amusement passing over his expression. "A little late for that, I'm afraid."

“His lap, Chuuya?” Tachihara's exasperated voice rang from the entrance of the apartment and Chuuya internally cursed. “Shirase?”

He was so fucked.  “Shut up,” he hissed, glancing between the bandaged freak and his bedroom’s door.. “I’m not dealing with whatever the fuck–” he motioned at Dazai’s general existence, ignoring the offended huff that followed – “this is and my friends, so get–” “I just said I’m a god, it's distasteful to try and pus--"

“You also said I was one, so get in the fucki--" 

“Your room is floating,” Dazai sang in response, snagging a photo frame from its spot in mid air and inspecting it. “None of them see all that scary,” he mused, glancing back at Chuuya. “Surely, they can wait for the whole divinity talk."

“Please shut the fuck up,” Chuuya snapped, staring at the room in disbelief. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on bringing the objects down, but the pounding in his head and chest overran him. “Why aren’t they going down? I thought down and they’re still up,”  he demanded, eyes wild as he could hear the sounds of loud, over exaggerated, stomps approaching his door. 

Nothing about this scenario made sense, not Dazai, not his newfound ability to defy fucking gravity, and much less this divinity shit Dazai has been spewing. The last thing he needed was for his friends to stumble into the scene, freshly drunk on shots of ‘chuuya talked to his asshole ex’ rage. “You’re panicking,” Dazai shrugged, letting go of the frame and letting it crash to the ground. “Probably wondering if your friends will cut you up or sell you out to a lab, if I had to guess.” A slow smirk dragged over his lips as a harsh knock rang against the door. “My money’s on the lab.” “Chuuya Nakahara you have ten seconds to get decent and then explain where the fuck you were last night,” Tachiara’s voice somehow held more anger than his fists pounding against the door.

“I brought coffee,”  Gin added, voice soft. “We figured you’d need it.” 

“I have Advil,” was Poe’s quiet follow up. “For the hangover and Tachihara,” “Hey!”

“I brought food!” Kenji’s voice was cheerful, although even his tone was twinged with a layer of discontent, clearly not any more happy with the belief of Chuuya going back to Shirase than any of them. Which, while fair, was the least of Chuuya’s actual fucking problems. “And I brought rage and disappointment, open the damn door.” Problem #1 being the fact that half of the objects in the room were levitating and it was somehow his fault and his entire fucking friend group was waiting outside the door.

“I could help,” Dazai offered in a low murmur, the smirk that curled around his lips seeming to freeze into a cruel and wicked thing as he surveyed the floating objects. “For a price, of course.” 

Problem #2 was the asshole currently lounging on his bed, as if Chuuya's sanity and future wasn't hanging on a quickly splitting thread. “Fucking–” He could hear Tachihara reaching the end of his countdown and drew a hand down his face. “Fucking, fine, whatever, please,”  Faster than he could blink, Dazai had wrapped his arms loosely around his waist, tucking Chuuya’s head under his chin. Chuuya yelped, starting to move to get away, but freezing when he noticed all the previously floating objects now laying around them in a heap. “Time’s up–who the fuck are you?” Tachihara demanded as he slammed the door open.  “Why is he wearing bandages?” He asked, mouth falling agape as his eyes flitted from Chuuya, up to Dazai, down to the scattered objects around them, then back up to Chuuya. “What the–”

“Busy night, huh?” Gin teased, stepping around Tachihara, clearly attempting to get a better sight of Dazai. A strange expression passed over her face as she studied the two of them, eyes lingering on Dazai for a moment too long. Chuuya quickly took advantage of the brief lapse in chaos as he snatched the coffee from Gin, taking a long, much needed, sip of the caffeinated drink. “It wasn’t–” He began to explain but his last attempt to cling onto dignity was quickly sabotaged by the demon behind him. “Yup!” Dazai cut him off, voice simperingly sweet. “Was a long and hard one too,”

“Nothing happened,” He snapped, glowering at his friends as if daring them to disagree.

Unfortunately, the threat of his anger truly held no weight on them anymore.

“Is that why his arms are still around your waist?” Poe asked, voice faux innocence as he handed Chuuya the advil. “I do agree that this was a surprising turn of events, but far from the worst.” 

“Yes, I’m aware of where his arms are” Chuuya huffed, downing the two pills with another long sip of the coffee. “And nothing happened last night, it’s just–” His voice trailed off, staring at the matching blank expressions his friends wore. “--cold,”  He quickly stepped out of Dazai’s grip, but didn’t move further when Dazai moved to keep their shoulders brushing against each other.

“Cold?” Tachihara repeated, a different tone of disappointment coloring his voice. “C’mon, dude, I know you can lie better than that.” 

“Your apartment’s pretty warm, actually,” Kenji piped in, tilting his head to the side with a knowing glint in his eyes. “And you’re almost never seen without three layers, so–” “What’s your name?” Gin demanded, cutting into the conversation with the same strange look on her face. “I swear I’ve seen you before,” she murmured, leaning against the doorframe as she studied him. “My brother has drawings that look just like you.”

“My name’s Dazai,”   The smirk returned and Chuuya could feel his own eye roll that followed.

“There’s no way–”  Poe’s shocked murmur was the first sound to break the stunned silence that soon descended into a chaos of questions.

“You fucked Akutagawa and Atsushi’s concussion hallucination–” Tachihara’s squawk quickly followed, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. “You’re real?”  Kenji’s own eyes were wide, streaks of guilt running through them. The poor kid was most likely already planning an elaborate way to apologize to the two narnia dwellers. 

“This is hell,” Chuuya groaned, dropping his face into his hands.  “I’ve died and gone to hell, there’s no other explanation.”  There was no other way that the ‘deity’ that Atsushi and Akutagawa ‘found’ in high school was not only real, but also in his room and claiming that Chuuya was the same as him. “Who the hell are you?”  Gin’s voice was as delicate as the sharp edge of a knife, her eyes studying Dazai carefully. “You fucking around with my brother and Chuuya?” “Sleeping with worshippers is in bad taste,” Dazai’s nose crinkled as if in disgust at the motion and Chuuya could see Tachihara move to restrain Gin out of the corner of his eye. “So, no, I’m not ‘fucking around’ as you said with the wild dog. Or, the chibi, for that matter–” “You little–” “I’m not the little one–”

“Is your first name Osamu?” Poe interrupted them, staring at Dazai quizzically.  Chuuya could feel the tension in Dazai’s arm as he stiffened up beside him, an odd sort of chill filling the air. “And if it was?” Dazai’s voice was calm, the kind of calm that would lull the ocean into serenity before a tsunami would wipe a city off the map, the kind of calm that only exists in the eye of a hurricane that promises devastation on anyone who dares to leave its grip.

“It’d explain a lot,” Poe answered simply, keeping his gaze leveled on Dazai. “You believed the Gods were real and that you could bring them back from wherever they ran to from humanity,”  “Is that so?” Dazai sounded amused, inspecting his nails carelessly. “What a foolish notion.” “That’s what it’s told as,” Poe continued, crossing his arms. “You and your crew died.” “Oda and Ango did,” Dazai corrected, eyes flashing when the word crew left his lips. “I thought most of the knowledge on me went missing.” The statement was said casually, but there was an underlying hint of a threat lingering in his words.

“I was curious,” Poe shrugged and Chuuya watched as Tachihra, Gin, and Kenji subtly moved as if to shield him. “So I went searching.” “Oh, I like him,” A new voice cut in and Chuuya jumped, whirling around to face the green-eyed stranger that was floating cross-legged behind him. “He’s smart, please tell me he’s the new godling.” The man’s voice was impish, playfulness laced in every word as he ran his fingers through dark hair. “What the fuck is fucking going on right now?” Chuuya demanded, looking between the stranger and Dazai, who promptly ignored him. “Sorry to disappoint, Ranpo, but the shrimp with the language barrier is the godling,” Dazai explained, waving at Chuuya dismissively. “Chuuya is what?” Tachihara demanded, voice once again mimicking that of a dying turkey. “Oh my god, did you leave one of Kaji’s experiments out again? Are we all in a hallucination together?” “I don’t think that’s possible,” Kenji pointed out, brows furrowed in confusion. “And Ryuu’s god being real somehow is more possible to you?” Gin argued, voice cracking on her own disbelief and panic.

“I’m dead,” Chuuya repeated numbly to himself, “I’m dead and this is hell.” He looked down at his trembling hands and squeezed them into fists. “There’s no other explanation.” “Well, that’s morbid,” Dazai mused, turning to face Ranpo. “Did I handle it this badly?” “Earthquake.” “Earthquake?” Chuuya repeated helplessly, forcing his gaze back towards the two. “Did he cause an earthquake?”  He could distantly hear his friends’ comments in the background, but their voices were drowned under his growing terror. “Could I cause an earthquake?” “Oh, certainly,” Ranpo hummed, earning a loud snort from Dazai. “But that’s what acolytes are for.” “Acowhat?” Tachihara demanded, stepping forwards as if to pull Chuuya away from the other two. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on but if you think Chuuya would do–” “Ranpo,” Dazai cut in, easily speaking over Tachihara. “Can you get us some space?” 

“Gladly,” Ranpo agreed, glancing past Tachihara to where Gin, Kenji, and Poe stood huddled in the corner. An odd glint shone in those green eyes when they landed on Poe, lingering for a moment too long before he grinned. “See ya soon,” With a snap of his fingers, Ranpo disappeared. And with him, his four best friends followed. 

[buttered-baguette-writes]

Fascination, Determination, Obsession

Part 3!

Harry was just a tad grumpy. Just a tad, he swore. He had fallen asleep at the edge of the forest, startled by sudden mass of students and teachers that flooded the halls when he woke and tried to make it to his dorm. He took as many hidden passages as he could, practically diving into the first one to avoid that new DADA professor. By the time he made it to his room, it was empty.

Dragging his feet, Harry changed into his uniform before heading to the great hall.

He was excited for the feast, just not the long ass sorting process.

Slinking through the open doors, he was relieved to see most of the eighth years squishing themselves together at the further end of the table. That left him and the two blondes sitting by the door lots of breathing room.

“Hi,” he said, smiling at Luna as he sat down across from her.

“Oh, you have Scattlewhisks too, Harry.”

“Maybe because we’re rooming?” Malfoy asked politely. Though it was quite obvious that he had no idea what they were meant to be talking about.

Luna had a thoughtful expression. “No, that’s not it.” The tops of her lips quirked up slightly.

“Surely I caught them from this buffoon.”

“You don’t catch Scattlewhisks. Crastes and Plutz though…”

And, gosh, Harry had missed her so much. He felt a little guilty about not getting in contact with her, but he knew she understood. That she didn’t mind. In fact, he heard she had spent a lot of her time off with magical creatures – those known and those not. They both had needed time to themselves. His face was fond as he listened to her, eventually turning to face the boy next to him.

Malfoy stared at him, eyes narrowed, trademark scowl in place as he looked seconds away from doing something questionable.

Harry tilted his head.

“If I find out I’ve caught one more imaginary—”

“They’re real,” Luna politely interrupted.

“—one more creature from you, I will kill you in your sleep.”

Harry tried – and failed – to hide an amused grin. “Sure, Malfoy.”

“I’m serious, scar head. They’ll find your glasses down your throat. Wand too.”

“Uh-huh.”

Before the blonde could retaliate (with physical violence), the first years finally filed into the hall and McGonagall began her speech.

Which, Harry paid no mind to. As soon as the food appeared on the table, his eyes started scanning for those treacle tarts he loved so much. He felt himself pout, realising dessert hadn’t also been put out.

“And now, for our first student…”

Harry glanced to the other end of the hall just in time to see the sorting hat completely ignore the poor, mortified first year. Instead, the ancient thing fluttered its way over to him. Harry mentally cursed himself and the bloody hat as it sat atop his head. Refusing to deal with the wide eyes from the rest of the school, he stared at his empty plate before closing his eyes with a roll.

“Harry Potter,” the hat spoke, its voice loud in the wizard’s head. At least it was a private conversation.

“Hat,” Harry replied, sounding sour.

“No need to be rude, I merely want to check in. A lot has happened.”

“No shit,” Harry grumbled.

The hat seemed amused of all things by the reaction. “If I told you now, that the choice was, once again, between Gryffindor and Slytherin, would you object to the latter?”

“No.”

“Hmmm. Live well, Harry Potter.” And with that the hat fluttered away, resting on the frozen first year like nothing had even happened.

Opening his eyes, Harry very pointedly looked towards the door to avoid everyone’s gazes.  This meant the two blondes were the only two in his view. They both have him a quizzical look that he waved off; the hall already having erupted with murmurs.

“Fucking hell. Just one year was all I wanted,” Harry grumbled, resting his head on the table. He dared a glance at Malfoy, glasses lopsided on his face as the bugger smirked down at him. “What?”

“The saviour is sulking. How, unbecoming.”

“Oh, sod off,” Harry said, but it had no real heat behind it. The middle finger he sent the blonde on the other hand…

Harry had really hoped – needed – this eighth-year thing to be different. For people to pay him less attention. To not be in danger. The almost-week he had spent there without the rest of the students had been nice. Yet the school was full, and every second things felt the same, his magic swirled and itched.

Malfoy’s snarky comments, however, were welcomed with open arms and Harry’s own attitude.

Harry huffed loudly, throwing his homework harshly onto the coffee table. He sunk into the soft chair, regretting his decision to come back to school. He hadn’t studied properly in over a year because he was, you know, on the run for his life. Besides, professors giving homework on their first day back was a cruel thing to do and Harry wanted none of it. Two lessons and already two parchments due within the next three weeks. He only had five classes in total, and it was looking to be both a blessing and a curse.

He fidgeted, chancing a glance over to Malfoy who was sat at his desk, already starting on his essays.

“So,” Harry started. “When’s our next lesson?”

The scratching of a quill on paper didn’t stop as the blonde replied, “Hmm, I don’t know.”

“Maybe today?” Harry’s tone was full of hope.

Malfoy scoffed. “You threatened a plant and then fell asleep during charms. I’m not sure that your brain has the capacity for the Arts anymore.”

“Hey, that Flytrap had it coming!”

Malfoy turned around in his chair, levelling Harry with an unimpressed stare.

“It’s not my fault the charms professor was trying to bore me to death. Besides, I had a bad sleep,” his words mumbled off towards the end. He didn’t have nightmares often anymore, but when he did, the night was long. His mind had been jittery because of the welcome feast, all those stares and whispers.

Something softened in Malfoy’s features and Harry realised he had forgotten to put up a silencing charm.

“Sorry,” Harry blurted out.

Malfoy waved him off. He turned back to his work, quill scratching away once again. “I rarely sleep at reasonable times.”

It was quiet for a minute before Harry spoke up again.

“So?”

“After lunch. In here.” Although the blonde didn’t turn around, Harry could hear the eye roll at the start.

He grinned.

Harry was sat in the same armchair from earlier. They had rearranged the chairs and coffee table slightly, meaning the boy-who-lived was now, of course, bathed in the afternoon sunlight.

Malfoy delicately sat across from him, placing a piece of blank paper next to an ancient Dark Arts book on the table.

“Before I teach you anything else, I want you to learn how to detect Dark Magic,” Malfoy said.

Harry pouted. “Isn’t that like, super basic?”

“Basic doesn’t mean easy. Once you learn it, a lot of other things become much easier. Dark Magic lingers, swirls, and lives in ways that normal magic just doesn’t.”

Harry didn’t know what he as going to say in response originally, because his second thought threw the first one out the window into a dumpster fire. “You said something like that before. About my magic?”

He watched Malfoy flush pink but put it down to the sun that was beaming in through the window.

“Yes. But, it can be hard to see the Dark in someone’s magical aura. Unless you know what to look for in both Dark and normal, they can hide each other.”

Harry hummed. “Can you teach me both?”

“Fine, but we are not talking about anything else to do with the Arts until you get them both. “

“Deal,” Harry said with a smile.

The thing is, Harry Potter isn’t exactly the best example of a patient person, as Draco was very quickly reminded.

During their second lesson of magic detection, the boy who lived twice whinged and whined when he had made zero progress. It was insufferable. Draco told him that it was normal to not have it yet because it was hard and to, “Stop complaining like a child, honestly.”

It took almost ten days before Potter finally started to pick up on things.

Draco had imbued Dark Magic into a plain piece of parchment and had set it next to a regular one. Something he thought was simple. Yet an argument broke out because Potter insisted that he was being messed with. Draco threatened to stop discussing the Arts with him – and also to strangle him. He almost had. The blonde had risen out of his seat and stood between Potter’s legs, poking a bony finger into his breastbone right below the hollow of the gits neck.

Potter had thrown his hands up in defeat, an almost pout on his lips.

Draco returned to his seat, arms crossed. Silence encompassed the pair as he watched Potter try again.

Eventually, the git pointed to the correct piece of parchment, stating that it felt different, but he still couldn’t actually see the magic.

“Good job,” Draco said. He ignored the goofy smile on Potter’s face. “That’s the first step. Now…”

After that, Potter got the hang of it pretty quickly. It was infuriating to a degree. It had taken Draco six months to learn to detect and see magic, but the overpowered git got it within two weeks.

Though Draco had something more interesting to focus on now. He had noticed Potter sat up straighter, or smiled like an idiot whenever Draco gave him any sort of praise. It had proven advantageous for encouraging Potter to stop complaining and keep on practicing. Being the Slytherin he was, he also knew it would prove beneficial for other reasons. But why had he never noticed before? Surely Draco would have noticed something as simple as that with everything going on, especially considering he had noticed practically everything else. Or was it a recent development? Draco was certain he had heard people praise the git before, though he never saw it elicit a reaction.

Well, he had seen Potter get flustered twice – once with Diggory and that Krum bloke. However, one had been Potter’s mentor/idol, and the other was a, quite frankly, kind of intimidating Bulgarian quidditch player. Those both made sense.

(If only he read between the lines).

“What colour is my magic?” Draco asked. He was sitting cross legged, leaning back onto his hands as his fingers dug into the dirt slightly. Potter was laying on his stomach across from him. They were as close to the Forbidden Forest as they could get without a teacher coming to scold them for breaking the rules – which meant no other student was game enough to approach them.

Potter tilted his head that he was holding up with his hands. “Blue and gray,” he said after a moment of staring.

Draco hummed. “What else?”

“Uh…” Potter squinted. “Green?”

Draco smiled. “Correct. Now—”

“Is your element water?”

Draco blinked owlishly at Potter. Then he scoffed. “You have one more guess.” He supposed water wasn’t a bad guess, per say, but he quite liked his element, so he still thought the mere idea was a bit rude. “Now,” he restarted his interrupted sentence. “Which of those colours is ‘normal’, and which is the representation of my Dark Magic?”

Draco was proud of his magic. It wasn’t full of any bright colours, but there were plentiful shades of green, blue and gray. He thought it looked quite pretty, always swirling about, almost mixing but not quite. If he was being honest, he had the nicest magical aura in his entire family.

Potter stared at him, chewing on his bottom lip in thought.

It was distracting.

Draco shifted.

“The green and darker grays are Dark,” Potter confidently said. He grinned up at the blonde when the latter hummed. “I’m a good student, aren’t I?” His tone was cheeky, knowing that the question alone would be enough to get on the blondes’ nerves.

Predictably, Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, Potter. We can move on to a different topic.”

And Potter just kept on staring at him before saying, “Call me Harry,” with a little please at the end.

The blonde stared back.

The thing was, Malfoy had become the most constant thing in Harry’s life. They had four out of five classes together, and Harry always sat with the blonde. They would still squabble in class, but they also managed to work somewhat well together – mainly in potions, as Harry let the other boy take charge. The pair spent most of their free time together in their dorm room, either in comfortable silence or talking or bickering. They had bonded over the Dark Arts and Harry was grateful for that.

The three weeks that school had been back had been more tiring than he thought was possible. Whenever he wasn’t with Malfoy, someone would try to approach him – to question his apparent friendship with the blonde or to give him thanks for his efforts in the war. (Like he had a choice, really.) He appreciated having Luna and Neville there with him sometimes – thankful they didn’t question his relationship with Malfoy – though a lot of people ignored them while trying to get his attention.

The schoolwork was so boring that Harry had contemplated dropping out multiple times. He, evidently, decided against it.

And then there was that new, overbearing DADA professor that made Harry want to commit several crimes. The man was still trying to get him to swap classes even though the year was well underway.

The point was, Harry enjoyed the time he spent around Malfoy.

He kept grinning up at the blonde.

“Ok, then.”

Harry rolled onto his back, smiling at the retreating sun instead.

“We should go inside,” Malfoy mumbled. He got off the ground and dusted off his pants.  After a moment of hesitation, he held out a hand for the dark-skinned boy. “Dinner should be soon.”

The smile didn’t leave Harry’s lips.

Part 2 // Part 4