#I had another piece but I scrapped it hehe

[lizaisdrawing]

LATE BUT HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE 🎃

[myusuchaa]

Elbert Greetia x afab reader - Tempted by Forbidden Fruit

ღ w.c.: 2.7K

ღ paring: elbert x afab reader/ Y/N

ღ cw: MDNI, NSFW, explicit sexual content, based on slight spoilers from Elbert's both endings special epilogue, use of Y/N, biting, oral, foodplay, fingering, dom, obsession, teasing

ღ a/n: well well, my first elbie nsfw fic is here!!! it is based off his both endings special epilogue, but mostly only the setting and a couple lines, so it doesn't have too many spoilers. i've been in love with this scene for months and wanted to finish what was started in the story.. hehe. elbie is the type to be in charge and yet still a needy, pouty lil bby and i love that about him. hopefully you do too, enjoy!!

MDNI ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶MDNI

You stood in the kitchen with one half-made and one fully baked apple pie laid out on the counter before you and Elbert.

Red, delicious apple slices, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar, were strewn about. Excess dough sat in a small bowl to the side near a tall jar of flour, now half empty and decorated with your and his fingerprints. 

It was a warm spring afternoon, and you and Elbert stayed in his manor on his day off, spending the time idly together. After learning of a new apple pie recipe, you both decided to try your hand at baking it, rather than leaving it all to the cooks and maids as they usually would do. In fact, Elbert had told all of the staff at the manor to take a leisurely day off in town, leaving you two isolated in the loving cage that was his mansion on the cliffs by the sea.

You plunge your spoon into the warm and steamy pie for a taste test. “....Mmmm, this might be the best apple pie I’ve ever tasted!”

Elbert pouts slightly, “I want a bite..”

The spoon with a new piece of pie is brought to his sculpted, perfect lips. He gazes down at you with the same intensity as always while taking the pie into his mouth.

“Mm.. indeed. It’s delicious. Very well done,” he replies softly. A  gorgeous smile graces his lips, showing off how relaxed and content Elbert is in this moment. 

Ah… he is beautiful.

“Isn’t it?! I’m pleased you like it, Elbert,” you reply a bit bashfully. “I’m so happy with how this turned out. We should bake and save the second one so the houseworkers may try.”

Elbert gives a small nod in a reassuring manner, as he usually does. He has always been attentive and caring toward the Crown staff, some of whom now work at his manor. That gentle, doting side of his continues to fully enrapture your heart as the days spent with him grow.

As he reaches for another bite, not with any silverware but with his own hands, you can’t help but pause to think about how you two must look in this moment. 

Elbert is in a single linen button-up shirt, thinner and more casual than his usual attire that goes under his vest and ascot. His sleeves are rolled up just to his elbows, another fashion choice he rarely gets the privilege to make due to his constant appointments as a nobleman. His slender yet toned forearms, painted with veins that ran down through to his fingers like pale blue rivers, really stood out against his soft visage. Admittedly, seeing his arms like that must feel like what men think when they see a woman’s bare ankle and calf. It truly makes for a wonderful view.

You wear a light, rose pink and baby green floral dress he recently picked out for you. There was no petticoat or skirt layer - only a thin laced string tied in a droopy bow on your back prevented the top half from loosening and falling off of you. Both of you had flour, sugar, salt, cinnamon, and apple bits stuck on various places of your clothes and body.

“You know, this is quite a sight. Eating scraps of pie with our fingers, all messy, while standing in the kitchen,” a giggle escapes you as you glance at him while eating the next bite. He chews slowly and tilts his head quizzically. “I mean… you being a nobleman and doing this… feels a bit naughty.”

In saying this, he smirks and looks off into the distance, as if he’s remembering something.

“I have been schooled in the ways of etiquette, but.. After Al came to live in the mansion, I would occasionally... get into mischief with him, when the adults weren’t looking. Sometimes, Al’s pranks ended up getting me in trouble, but….” he trailed off and paused for a while before blinking a couple times and turning back to you. “More often than not, they saved me from dark thoughts.”

A fleeting surge of envy made its way to your facial expression, and you cast him a sidelong stare while picking at the pie.

“Ahh.. that sounds so nice. I somehow wish I knew you then…” you were aware of the faint flush growing on your cheeks and the coy look you threw at him. Smiling, you say, “I would have loved to do things like that with little Lord Elbert.”

I don’t know why but I’m envious of Alfons…

You heard him chuckle under his breath before he asked, “Are you.. jealous, by chance?” His sapphire eyes looked at you with a gleam that told you he already knew the answer and was just seeing how he could toy with you.

“....yes.”

Now that it was made obvious - that the thought of doing something thrilling and ‘against the rules’ with him was extremely enticing, that you wanted to be the one to give him happiness - you really couldn’t help but blush.

Elbert laughed again in a husky tone before drawing nearer to you. He swooped in to kiss you mid bite, his arms suddenly on either side of you, pressing you up against the counter while his tongue reached between your lips to steal some of the apple that was beginning to melt in your mouth.

He pulled back and his ocean blue eyes darkened to a stormy glaze. “Sweet,” he whispers. You watch his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows what he stole from you.

“Elbert!”

“What is it?”

He asked this teasingly, but somehow innocently at the same time. His duality drove you insane.

Before you could answer, his hands grabbed your waist and effortlessly lifted you up. 

“Wh-Wha..!!”

He placed you on the ridge of the counter, quickly swiped off the kitchen supplies that were in the way behind you with zealous power, and then pushed you back and down onto the messy, wooden surface. He loomed over you with a beautiful grin. 

“Oohhh.. Right here?!” you gasp, a thrill rising within you.

“...Make some mischief with me in the kitchen.” His voice dropped into his lower, sultry register that made anything he said impossible to resist. “Don’t you want that?” The words danced off his pretty lips with a smile.

“Mm.. s-sounds fun..,” you stammered.

His lips were enticing as stared at them. “I want to experience it with you as well.”

With a smile he closed the gap once more and kissed you passionately, his tongue glossing over your teeth. He began to trail his kisses down to your jaw, your neck, collarbones, and chest. As he did this he lowered one forearm onto the counter, using that hand to stroke your hair and face. His other hand was placed first on the table and then on your knee, forcing your legs to come up and wrap around his waist. Something warm and hard pressed against you.

He exhaled hungrily into your ear after nibbling your earlobe, “You taste so sweet…I feel like I have a decadent dessert laid out before my eyes.”

“Nnghh…Elbert, I..,” you plead, savoring how good it feels when he switches from gentle to forceful, when that beastly look, as if he is about to devour you, starts to contort his expression with a dark greed.

Continuing to lick and suckle the flour and juice from your skin, his hand slips under the small of your back to deftly undo the bow on your dress. His fingers crawl up to the neckline and he pulls it down, like you are his present on his birthday that he can’t wait to unwrap. He bites the fabric and drags it over your breasts with his teeth.

“Wait!! You–y.. Mmnn!!” The feeling of his tongue and hot breath on your now enlarged nipples is downright maddening. You realize your empty pleas to stop him are useless.

His long eyelashes flutter as he rests his chin on your stomach and looks up at you. “You want to make me happy… yes?”

Caught in your throat is something between a cry of agreement and a satisfied moan. You nod your head vigorously, “Yes… I want that..nngh”

He sucks harder on your nipple, sending a wave of pleasuring sensation down your stomach. Still in between your legs, he lifts your dress as his hand expertly finds its way to your throbbing, moist spot. One, two, three intentional circles stimulated you, as he groaned, “Then who am I to refuse such a sweet temptation?”

“Mnnn-,” you instinctively lock your ankles together around him and pull him in. Both of you, eager to lap up the sugar and saliva dripping from each other’s mouths. His fingers slip under your panties and push into your dripping heat.

“Mnn, let me hear the voice that’s only for me, Y/N,” he rasps, reaching in and out with his long, agile fingers, as if curling them in to beckon you closer. A bite sinks into your shoulder, sending a shock of ecstasy to the pit of your core, aching for more. 

“El… ah..I-I’ll be too loud..” Before you could finish he kissed you once more with a growl rising from his throat. He knew exactly what you wanted. You come undone on the counter as he swallows your moans, all you could do was grip the edge to hold on for dear life as he hastily pulled off your underwear and knelt down to drink your nectar. “Ahh, sh-!”

He stops you by pushing the fingers that were just inside you into your mouth, caressing your tongue with his thumb, you sucking in pure pleasure as he feasted on you below. You grab his golden locks and move him round as he inhales your glistening cream like it’s his last meal. You feel yourself on the precipice of climax. His tongue traced your vulva and clit softly but with intense longing, and as he did so you heard him loosen his belt and unzip his pants.

Just as the greedy queen longed to be beautiful, you craved his entire, beautifully exquisite being, sinfully delectable. A nobleman on his knees for you…whining in desperation. 

Elbert then stood up, a sheen of manic desire in his jewel-toned eyes. “Y/N, I’m a greedy man…”, he says, breathless. “When I say I want you..”

You reached out to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him toward you, meanwhile he held his pulsating length just a centimeter from your swollen entrance. He taunts you by lightly rubbing his tip, moist with precum, in circles on you. Just the feeling of it makes your eyes roll back. 

“Nnghh… feels s’good… and I know.. El,” you can barely speak at this point. In your mind you are begging him to thrust his manhood into you.

“..It means I want to see all of you. Show me what sends you - nngh -  over the edge..,” he slid into you while saying this and readjusts your position until you fit securely in his arms, wrapped around your waist. Your back arched in response as he slow-thrusted forward. A satisfied sigh left him as your moist cunt was welcomed his length in full.

“Let me in deeper…” he was already panting, pleading, eyebrows upturned, yearning for your touch. “...into your very core… this too..mm..” he rubs your clit with his hand as he rhythmically pumps his erect member in and out, hitting that sensitive bead every single time. “..this is mine.”

“Mnn..nnggh- Elb-..!” Your moans fill the empty hallways, the heat radiating from you two becoming palpable as fog against the window above the counter. For some time after he enters you, there are no words spoken. Only the melody of your voices, sounds, his moans - a sensual duet filled the silence. He continued to stroke your sweet spot with his gifted cock, an intensity so strong you felt yourself drift into absolute bliss. His languid yet desirous rolling of the hips has your nectar dripping down the sides of your thighs. Looking up at him in a daze you see his gorgeous, ocean blue eyes gleam under his bangs that fall in front, tinged with madness. More love bites are left on your collarbone and breasts, him only pulling away after a hot mark, the color of a plump red apple, is left on your skin.

“Hah..” he heaves in and out with more force now, tensing his erect member and pushing it as far as it can go until you squeal, his bulging head hitting your cervix as you dig your nails into his back. “You’re mine…Y/N.” The sight of you gasping, writhing, and with the hickies he left on your delicate chest drove him wild. That deep, slimy desire - that dark voice within him: Claim her. Own her.

He suddenly pinned both of your wrists together, crossed over your head, with one of his large hands. His grip was shockingly strong, it made for the perfect shackle of flesh. Chained to the counter by his right hand, he groped your exposed and supple breasts repeatedly with his other hand as he quickened his pace in and out of you. His lips turned up in a crazed smile. Almost laughing in hysteria and illicit pleasure, he gritted, “Mmn.. Hah, you’re beautiful..” He lifted your right leg over his shoulder to get even deeper inside you, both of you crying out as you near orgasm. Still with one hand crucifying your arms to the table, his other hand wrapped around your thigh with wanton obsession. His pearly white canines sank into your thigh as he licked playfully and pushed his erection deeper still. 

Damn it, how can he be so.. so!! “!!! Ahh.. Nngh, I-I’m.. I’m gonna-!!” you yelp as you try to shake off his hand that held yours down, attempting to claw at the air, extreme rapture making you shake and twist, intensifying the feeling of him hitting your g-spot. 

“Wait,” he hissed, “I’m not satisfied yet-” he slammed your wrists back down above your head and locked your leg in place over his, bending into you, breathing in your scent and gorging on the sweat beads that formed on your neck. No doubt, his carnal urges drove him to the brink of abandon. Before you was a man filled with lustful greed. His eyes a darker shade of blue, his silky hair now strewn and sticking to his chiseled chin and neck. You kiss his lips as if deprived of oxygen. A faint hint of cinnamon fills your palate. 

Mere seconds later you both reach the climax at nearly identical times. “Ah!! El, I’m-”

With one forceful thrust, he erupted inside of you. A warmth unlike anything comparable spreads within. You cum as whimpers leave his lips and exaggerated breaths make his chest heave deeply upon you, his rock solid length throbbing inside. Pulling his hair and squeezing your thighs tightly around his waist, an ice cold and yet burning wave of ecstasy, like an ocean wave on a summer night, rolls over you both. Your panting mirrors his, and he lays on top of you, motionless, save for the rise and fall of your silhouettes from the sunset glow peaking through the window above you.

Slowly, he pulls out, still somewhat hard, and within seconds a gushing flow trickles out and down onto your behind. He stood in front of you, erect enough for his glistening cock to still stand, a drop of your viscous honey dripping from his tip.

A gentle touch of his finger catches his cum that drips out of you before it falls on the floor. He delicately traced your rosy, swollen cunt. Leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, he asks timidly, “Are you alright?” 

He pulls you up into his arms, holding you like the most precious treasure in the world.

“Mm, y-yes.. but Elbert…that was…,” a naughty, playful smile bloomed on his stunning face when you called his name. 

“Yes, Countess? Will you scold me now?” He teased, as he dusted some flour on the tip of your nose with his index finger.

Gleeful laughter from both of you danced on the breeze, followed by the scent of freshly baked apple pie.

fin

[meaningofaeons]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ unbearable

⊹ character(s) - sampo koski ⊹ word count - 1.7k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, angsty, hurt/comfort?? possibly slightly ooc sampo sorry </3, unedited

ugh I rlly couldn't help myself making my first work on this account sampo (tho I really did consider svarog LMAO he's grown on me a lot) but I hope you all like!! this is like. my redebut onto tumblr writing hehe ^w^

Surely, there couldn't be a more unbearable man on this planet — no, maybe in the entire universe — than Sampo Koski.

Perhaps he had his good sides, though, you would find yourself musing every once in a while.

Sure, he was a filthy conman, always tunnel-visioned on his next profit. Not much consideration for strangers aside from their pockets, not to mention that terrible habit of his to spam anyone whose contact he could get his hands on with scam ads and malware links he was paid a pretty sum to spread. Even his own 'friends' wouldn't be spared from his constant phishing attempts.

Maybe he did get a bit too reckless if the job was especially large, especially profitable, and maybe he did sometimes ditch just before the bill at a restaurant would arrive, and maybe he did piss off a group of automatons, causing them to chase you two to the edge of town until —

You sighed irritably, pinching your temple as you tried to refocus your thoughts.

In spite of all that, Sampo did have his benefits, you surmised.

He had ended up dropping in at just the right time during that automaton chase, even though you'd assumed mere moments earlier that his disappearance from your side meant he had run for the hills and left you behind. You avoided a lot worse injuries thanks to him that day.

And yeah, he did stop that miner from scamming you out of a good chunk of your paycheck that one time — albeit at the cost of another group of naïve victims who he led the man directly to. 'The only one who can swindle you out of all your pocket money is me!' he had claimed, and promptly received a beating over the head.

But once you opened your eyes again, beholding the sight of Sampo Koski sat on his knees before you in shame, twiddling his thumbs as he glanced to the side with a guilty smile...

You weren't quite sure his positive aspects could completely abate your wrath.

On this very day, the man before you had asked you to come with him to Rivet Town to assist with a 'very important business discussion'. You, foolishly, decided to trust him again.

'Give him the benefit of the doubt,' you'd thought. 'Maybe this time it's actually something honest. Maybe this'll really help him.'

Rather than a discussion, though, the foxlike man had instead led you right to a large group of automatons.

'It'll be fine,' he'd said, shrugging. 'Just need some scrap metal for a client! It's technically still a business discussion, we're just discussing with our weapons rather than our mouths!'

So he'd left you to dismantle the automaton pile, until another group of very much active robots had spotted you two and barreled towards you for vengeance.

The man hadn't even noticed in your collective fleeing that one of the bots had managed a sizable gash on your leg, hindering your escape until the two of you finally stumbled back into town.

Of course, the filthy scammer escaped unscathed himself.

Just recalling the incident sent you into further distress as the pain ached in your leg — you hadn't bothered to get it treated by Natasha yet, too focused on giving your 'business partner' a piece of your mind as soon as possible.

Sampo didn't dare speak a word himself. Your stormy expression was enough for him to keep his trap shut tight, too afraid of your mood to risk worsening it.

He had really done it with his latest stunt — a little 'prank gone wrong', as he put it, until he saw just how upset you were — and he knew it, too.

"I just..." Green eyes immediately shot over towards you as you began to speak, but your words only cut off into a heavy sigh, leading you to slump into a chair in the corner of your dingy apartment. Seeing you kneading your forehead with a look of exhaustion more so than anything else, the sly man took his chances with a conversation.

"L-Like I said, Y/N, it was all in good fun!" he laughed anxiously, feeling his palms begin to sweat. "I wasn't actually going to leave you to get all the parts by yourself, or ditch you when the bots came running, or anything —"

"Quiet."

Your voice shut him up once again.

Sampo was exceedingly nervous today. Usually, you'd just get angry with him, expression twisting into that cute, flushed pout that he'd gotten so fond of.

You'd hit him over the head, scold him loudly, drag him by the ear... but you were never silently angry. Not like this.

"Does it really make you happy?" your voice echoed through the room at last, your face still hidden beneath your exasperated hands. "Is it really that fun? Are you getting a good laugh at my expense?"

Sampo's smile, though nervous, fell.

"You know, Sampo Koski," His spine straightened at his full name being used, rare shame filling his cheeks. He felt like he was being scolded like a toddler. "You always pull something or other over me. Usually, it's bearable. But it's gotten to be too much."

"Y-Y/N —"

"I choose to offer you my trust in so many ways, and you just...!" Your hands clutched onto your hair in complete vexation. "You always take advantage of it! Always! Even when I try to help you, or give you the benefit of the doubt, try to convince myself you're being honest for once!"

You peered through your fingers at him with one eye.

"I can count on two hands the amount of times you've shockingly come through for me, and yet, I don't even have enough hairs on my head to equal the amount of times you've swindled or betrayed me! This is the last straw, Sampo Koski!"

"Y/N, l-listen —"

"I'm going to Nat's."

His mouth fell agape as you just got up and began walking towards the door as you'd said.

"Wait!"

"What?" you sneered as the man half-rose to his feet, frozen by your glare. "Worried that I'll tattle to her and you'll get another earful to ignore? Don't worry. She knows that every injury I get is your doing, so she's going to find out one way or another."

"...Injury?" Sampo asked, dumbfounded. You raised a brow, thoroughly ticked as you turned and walked away again.

It was then that he noticed the blood soaking your pants, the torn material of your clothes sticking uncomfortably to the gnashed skin. Your limp was more pronounced than he'd like to admit, considering he clearly hadn't noticed it prior to now.

The door slamming brought the man back to his senses, and he immediately pursued you, grabbing onto your wrist before you could make it ten steps away from your home.

"Let go, Sampo! While I'm still being nice!"

"I'm sorry!"

"I don't want to hear it! I —" Upon processing his words, you turned, a look of mild horror washing over your features as you raised a brow again. "...Eh?"

Sure enough, the Sampo Koski had just said the words 'I'm sorry' in a tone that sounded more genuine than anything he'd ever pushed past his lips — that is, if his souring expression was anything to go by.

He'd never said that to you before, not in the several incidents before this, so you certainly hadn't expected it now.

He looked gutted.

"I should've — I shouldn't've — Urgh..." Sampo scratched the back of his neck. You narrowed your eyes.

"Don't tell me this is just you being too afraid of Nat to let me get treated by her."

"No, no, listen," he waved his hands around wildly. "I'm... sure, I'm afraid of Miss Natasha, plenty afraid, in fact! But... being real honest, I'm way more afraid of you walking out on me for good."

His head bowed, and he looked completely downtrodden at this point.

"Y-You've been better to me than most, and I guess... I don't know. I just thought you'd always be there, sorta... Which was wrong of me to assume!" Sampo's speech was jumping all over the place as he hastily attempted to keep your attention, worried a single wrong word would send you walking away again. "Very wrong! I took advantage of ya a lot, and... Well, I'm sorry."

You stood there in silence for a good, long while.

It was plenty of time to make even Sampo nervous. You couldn't deny reveling in the way his fingers twitched anxiously, his eyes darting to you and back to the floor as he awaited your response — or lack of one — to his apology.

Finally, you sighed again. A very long, drawn-out, wrongdoing-emphasizing sigh.

"Well, I assume you can't promise that this will never happen again."

"Heheh... Well, if we're being really, really honest..." he simpered, not meeting your eye. "I can at least promise that I'll never let you get hurt on my watch again, though! Not ever! Koski's honor!"

The comical way he put a fist to his chest, as though mimicking a Silvermane Guard, put a reluctant smile on your face. Finally, you snorted out a laugh, bringing his infamous smile back again as well. This time, however, it was more relieved than mischievous.

"I really hate you sometimes," you murmured, pulling him into a hug as you buried your face in his shoulder. "But I'll let it slide. Last time, Sampo Koski. Don't you mess up again."

"I won't!" he shouted, perhaps a bit too eager. Still-shaky hands found your figure as he gently returned your embrace, something a bit more tender in his eyes when you pulled away. "I won't."

"Fine."

"Now, then, why don't we mosey back on into your house and get that leg patched up, eh?"

"Sorry, Mr. Koski," you teased, folding your hands behind your back as you continued your trek towards Natasha's clinic. "As much as we just shared a heartfelt moment of emotional growth, I don't trust your shoddy patchwork first-aid, not for something that hurts this bad. You'll just have to deal."

Sampo trailed after you like a puppy, rubbing his hands together like the shady businessman he was, familiar swindling smirk back already — though it grew more anxious by the minute as you neared Natasha's.

"Ah, come on! Can't we work out a deal? A bargain?! I said I won't let you get hurt again! We're both reasonable people, right...?"

"Y/N...? Y/N, come on!"

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Addams Allergy

Pairings: Thornhill x Weems x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.7K

Summary: Reader's allergy is a thing of myth, and someone decides to do some myth-busting. This won't end well for anyone.

TW: allergies, anaphylaxis, needles, hospitals, ambulance, difficulty breathing, bullying, attempted manslaughter (fancy legal terms hehe), mentioned heart attacks, physical violence

A/n I have added a link at the end for very simple instructions for how to administer an epipen. Spend like three minutes reading it and save lives. Also please reblog the linked post to help other educate themselves as well.

You suppose it wasn’t too bad being an Addams. But then again you weren’t quite the same as your sister Wednesday. You were more of an interim between Pugsly and Wednesday. You were soft but not squishy, cold but not frigid. You were actually most likely the most seemingly normal of all the Addams’s.

But being Wednesdays twin, you shared many things, a womb (for all of nine tortuous months), black hair, pale skin and your most inconvenient shared trait, an allergy to colour. Luckily though you did not share a dorm. You were roomed with Yoko who was much more palatable than the ball of colour who was Wednesday's ‘roomie’ as the wolf-pup had put it.

Unfortunately, most people were sceptical bordering on disbelieving about the colour allergy. Taking it as another Addams lie. And you being the easier target of the two of you often copped the most teasing. Everyone knew not to mess with Wednesday, but you were slightly easier. You cared more.

Yoko and you were sat in the library studying at the tables down the back when a group of siren boys came in. They had been teasing you a lot as of late and Yoko knew about it, but you begged her to keep quiet, you didn’t want to attract any more attention than you already had.

The boys were quick to spot you down the back and grinned wolfishly beelining straight for you. You let out a soft groan and Yoko looked up.

“If they lay a hand on you, I’ll drain them dry.”

“It's fine Yoko. I’ve got this.”

“The same way you ‘had it’ when you got a black eye i had to help you hide for two weeks?” She asked with a deadset tone. You grumbled a response when you felt your chair being pulled back.

“Hey!” Yoko said, “leave her alone.” She started but one of the boys spoke with his siren song.

“Sit” he commanded, and Yoko found herself no longer in control of her muscles as she sat and watched helplessly.

“So, a birdie told me your allergic to colour?” The main boy said, he was light-skinned with deep rich blue eyes and blonde curls. He looked like the type to be a surfer with the tan he had.

“That would be correct.” You nodded trying to remain calm and mimic your sister's tone.

“Well, how about we check you still have this … so called ‘allergy’” he said in a mocking tone. Pulling something from his pocket, you tried and failed to stop your eyes widening.

Between his thumb and forefinger was probably the most colourful and bright piece of fabric you had ever seen.

Despite the allergy, you hadn’t given any of your friends and epipen for you yet and the only people who had one were the nurses and weems. So, in other words unless Yoko was fast at running because the headmistress's office wasn’t too far, you may be looking at the object that would kill you.

Drawing a shaky breath, you looked the boy in the eyes. “As much as i love attempted murder, this isn’t a good idea.” You said

“Huh? Really?” He mocked “You think your smarter than me, don’t you?” He sneered and you gulped.

“Obviously.” You muttered and the boy scowled. Before you could stop him, he pinned you to the floor and shoved the scrap of fabric in your mouth. Your eyes went wide, and you began to flail and kick wildly trying to get him off.

Yoko was screaming bloody murder which seemed appropriate on more than one front.

After a second the boy rolled off you and stood brushing off his uniform.

“See… lies.” He said as you rolled onto your stomach, propped up on your elbows and spitting out the wet cloth onto the floor.

“Gross.” The boy said.

“You moron, let me go i need to get her epipen.” Yoko screamed and the boy's face morphed into something else for a second.

“Wait is she … actually?” He asked starting to look a little scared.

“Yes, you tool what would she gain from a fake allergy. Now let me go.” Yoko screamed and the boy froze before bolting. Luckily as he grew further away Yoko felt his song fading. She stood running over to you. You were laid on your back gasping as the anaphylaxis began to set in.

“W-weems.” You rasped and then coughed, your throat feeling ridiculously tight. Yoko nodded.

“You’ll be ok Y/n/n. Im going to get weems.” She said and raced out the doors.

Yoko ran the fastest she probably ever had in her immortal life. In a matter of seconds, she was banging hand over fist on the wooden doors before she simply pushed the open wasting no time.

“Ms Tanaka-“ Weems began, she was sat on the couch with Ms Thornhill looking equally startled.

“No time… y/n … epipen…now.” Yoko said between gasps. In a second both teachers were on their feet. Weems hurried over to her desk throwing open the second draw and pulling out the epipen she kept there just for you.

“Where is she?” Weems said with a commanding and scarily calm voice.

“Library.” Yoko replied and the three of them ran to the room of books.

Yoko led the two teachers to the back of the room where you were still gasping. Luckily for them you were already on the floor which made this next part easier.

“Christ.” Weems said, “Marilyn, call an ambulance.” She commanded as she uncapped the giant needle.

The Botany teacher scrambled to find her phone pulling it out and punching in the numbers for the emergency services.

Weems mentally recited the rhyme from when she had to do this for Morticia as a student as she pulled off the blue safety cap.

‘Blue to the sky orange to the mid-outer thigh.’ She thought and in one swift motion she lined it up with your thigh, Yoko having helped her pull down your skirt. She quickly stabbed your outer-mid thigh listening for the click and then counting to three before gently removing it. She gingerly deposited the epipen on the table.

The two teachers sat either-side of you while Yoko sat next to Ms Thornhill on your left. Your breathing began to even out, becoming less and less raspy as the epinephrine began to take effect.

Ms Thornhill was still on the phone with the emergency services who had assured her they were on their way now.

Both teachers and the vampire sat and watched with bated breath as they realised your breathing had stabilised.

After about ten minutes you tried to sit up, but the headmistress placed a hand on your shoulder.

“No. Stay lying down the EMTs will be here soon darling. Then I’ll come with you to the hospital, and they’ll check you out alright?” She said and you nodded and laid back down.

“Can i come too? I need to tell you something.” Yoko said and Weems made a thinking face and then nodded.

“Yes. After all, I do need to know how this happened. The Addams family know their limits and are quite good at avoiding this so any insight you could provide would be helpful.” The principal said and Yoko nodded. After another few minutes of tense silence, the emergency services came in and the paramedics gently lifted you onto a clean white stretcher. You hated the idea but luckily weems made sure nobody saw as you were taken to the ambulance that sat by the nevermore gates. Yoko and Weems joined you in the ambulance and Ms Thornhill waved as you were driven off.

About an hour later you were being held for observation. It was another three hours before they would let you go. You were sat up in a hospital bed with Yoko and weems sat in plastic chairs beside you.

“This feels like one hell of a power imbalance.” You muttered and both of them laughed.

“Well, you did just cheat death.” Yoko teased and you nodded.

“As an Addams it's an expected weekly occurrence. Kind of like a grim ostentatious weekly period.” You grinned always finding ways to relate everything to blood. Yoko groaned dramatically and facepalmed.

“And as the principal of two Addams’s who weekly try and take me with them to then grave, I’d say I’m cheating death myself with the number of heart attacks you and your sister attempt to induce upon my poor heart.” Weems said sounding exasperated.

“It wasn’t y/n/n’s fault though!” Yoko exclaimed and weems raised a brow while you opted to look out the window and avoid eye contact.

“You never did explain how this happened.” Weems said gesturing with a sweeping motion to the bed you were still in.

“Well i guess now’s as good as any and i doubt Ms. I-cheat-death-daily is going to spill.” Yoko said before launching into an explanation starting a few weeks ago when the teasing began. It was safe to say the principal was outraged.

“I will not have students attempting to murder each other.” She huffed with pure unadulterated rage in her eyes burning with fire, rage and brimstone with the likeness of hell itself. The look would have scared Satan into being as straight as a nun.

In a matter of seconds, she drew a deep calming breath, and you were reminded of the saying, the calm before the storm. Then she opened her eyes again and excused herself, walking out into the hallway and pulling out her phone. Not even five minutes after Yoko’s story ended, she was on the phone in the school board arranging his immediate expulsion.

About a half hour later, Weems returned looking flustered but when her eyes settled on you, she deflated slightly and gave a tender smile in your direction. Her eyes locked with yours, scanning for any hints of pain.

She had also texted the anxious botanist who had agreed to come by once you were discharged to drive the odd team home. As well as ordering about a dozen epipens for all your close friends and her office.

Once Weems had decided you were defiantly not in pain, she walked over to your bedside and gently brushed the hair from your eyes.

“It's dealt with darling. Nobody will hurt you now.” She assured and you blushed slightly at the contact, leaning into her hand.

You were safe. Alive. Breathing normally. And safe … again.

Masterlist

How to give an epipen here

[remapped-soul]

once again with an italian song, this time for charlos

"occhi diversi tutte le sere ma sempre il solito vecchio sorriso" >>> different eyes every single night but always the same old smile

i'm imagining something romantic and cheesy and charles' eyes changing with the light :)

once again, im so sorry how late this is. i had an idea for this ever since you sent me the ask but only now found the energy to write. i hope you like it <3 I tried making it cheesy and romantic. what's for sure, charles' eyes are definitely changing hehe. your prompts have been amazing and I had so much fun writing them

this is a companion piece to my charlos demon au. read it here

tw: mention of the lv incident, and charles is angry about it, but nothing too graphic.

This year was supposed to be different. This year was supposed to be their year. Prayers on his lips, the devil by his side, Carlos was supposed to win this year. Instead, he's barely scrapping in the top 5 as it is. To say he is frustrated is an understatement.

"I thought a deal with the devil meant glory," Carlos says the night after the race in Melbourne. "I thought the car would be strong. I thought--" the voice catches in his throat "--I thought I'd be strong."

Charles is motionless next to him, eyes a blue so dark and deep, no shadow disturbs them. Carlos is a little afraid to look at him.

"It will come." Charles presses his mouth against Carlos' shoulder, heat sipping through the shirt. He inhales, long and deep. He's just like a dog sometimes, Carlos thinks, a little amused, a little fond. Protective and possessive.

"Easy for you to talk." Carlos shakes Charles off. The artificial light of the hotel room slants in his eyes, and for a second, Charles' irises are not deep blue, but milky white. Carlos' heart seizes in his chest. He blinks. Charles' eyes are back to normal. "You were Senna in the past life."

Charles rolls his eyes. "I made a deal with you, not with Ferrari. I can't help them if they're not ready to pay the price."

"And I am? Paying the price?"

Charles smiles, crooked, lopsided, dimples popping, and kisses him into quietness.

*

It gets better until it doesn't and Carlos has to retire his car in Spa halfway in. It's Charles' turn to be on the podium, and Carlos is so angry he can barely stand to look at him.

"It's just a third place, Carlos. Nothing to stress over."

They go back to the hotel right after Charles finished his media duties, and Carlos wants nothing more than to be alone. He thinks slamming the door would have gotten the message across, but when he turns around, Charles is already there, by the bed, waiting, hands in his pockets, eyes a dull grey.

"A third place and three championships," Carlos sneers now, looking over Charles' shoulder. He can't stand the look in his eyes. "Nothing to stress over."

Charles sighs, exasperated. "I existed before you, Carlos. I will exist after you. My life now is nothing but a moment, painted in a different color. I don't choose my lives, the same way you didn't choose to be bound to me. If I could, I'd always be a king, a winner, but my life is defined by the contracts I make the same way yours is defined by things outside of your control." Charles stops, an angry breath hissing through his clenched teeth. He doesn't talk about his life, his existence as a being outside of the human realm, if he can help it. "You know what you got to do if you wish to never see me again."

Carlos finally looks at Charles. His eyes shine like marble in sunlight. Outside is dark, a starless night.

"And if I do? Will the old Charles be back?" Carlos still remembers the days before he made his pact. The sweet Charles, the shy Charles. The one that blushed around Sebastian Vettel.

"You drivers always think you're so different from one another, but you're all the same." The Charles in front of him gives him a sad smile. "There is no old Charles. It's always been me."

Carlos suddenly feels nauseous. He stares at Charles, at his eyes, at the grey melting into blue. "I think…I think I need to be alone." A pause. "Please."

Charles tilts his head to the side, watching Carlos. Carlos blinks. Charles is gone.

Later, they will be fine, as fine as a demon and human can be. They will fall into bed again, and Charles will let Carlos touch him, slide into him raw, make love to him. Charles will let Carlos wrap his hands around his throat, kiss him breathless, mark him. Charles will let Carlos believe he has power, and Carlos will let it happen, accept it. He will accept anything, everything as long as he gets to enjoy this for a little while longer.

*

The win in Singapore comes with a bang, and Carlos doesn't have time to think if Charles gave him this only to appease him. He is yelling over the coms, yelling as he gets out of the car, as he embraces the team. He sings every word of Fratelli d’Italia up on the podium. Fred pours champagne over his head, down his overalls. Carlos accepts everything with the biggest smile on his face. He won. He won for Ferrari. With Ferrari.

A tiny voice in his head tells him, you won before Charles this year, before Il Predestinato. It's delightfully mean. Carlos shoves it back where it came from.

He doesn't spot Charles anywhere until after his press conference, when Carlos is pulled into a desolate room, a hand on his mouth to silence him and a cheeky smile greeting him in the dark.

"Hi, champion."

Carlos grins against the fingers. "Hi back," he mumbles, pulling Charles into him by the waist.

Charles' eyes are a kaleidoscope of red-pink-purple, a sunset trapped in his irises. "My beautiful champion," he says and then he kisses Carlos hard on the mouth. Carlos parts his knees, Charles steps closer, pushes his hands underneath Carlos's shirt, fingers on his stomach, skin against skin. Carlos shudders.

"Bebe," Carlos mutters as Charles kisses down his neck. "Not here. Hgmm." Charles bites at a particular sensitive spot on Carlos' neck. "We don't have time."

Charles' eyes glimmer as he looks up at Carlos. "Is that a challenge?" He asks and drops to his knees before Carlos can get a word in.

Ten minutes later they're sliding into their chairs as the debrief starts, and if Carlos fixes his pants and Charles wipes the corner of his mouth, no one bats an eyelash. After all, they were only a few minutes late. No one scolds a Ferrari champion.

*

The manhole blows up underneath Carlos' car in Las Vegas. It brings the first practice to an end and rules him out of the second one. Because of the damage, he will most likely get a penalty on Sunday. It’s a mess. Charles is fuming.

Carlos watches as Charles paces the length of his hotel room, threat dripping from his tongue like a thunderstorm, and he speaks in French and sometimes in Spanish. Other times in languages that are not familiar at all. Carlos would laugh about it, would pull Charles into his arms, tell him not to worry, kiss the frown off his face. He’d do that and more if it weren’t for the shackles shining bloody red around Charles’ neck, around his wrists, eyes matching as they flare up with every new word.

Charles’ threats are not something to laugh at. They’re real, and if Carlos doesn’t do anything about it, Charles will level the city.

“It’s what they deserve,” Charles spits. “If there is something the humans have been constant about- it's money. It’s always about money. They’d risk everything for it. I should cut their fingers off, one by one. Make them choke on money. Teach them the consequence of greed.”

Carlos sighs. He doesn’t think too much about it and grabs Charles by the arm, pulling him into his lap.

“Cariño,” Carlos soothes, pressing a kiss underneath Charles’ right eye. He puts his fingers on Charles’ neck and doesn’t think about how it burns. “You’re older than mankind. Why are you still surprised?”

Charles growls low in his throat. “They messed with what’s mine.” Surprise and pleasure zip up Carlos’ spine. He drops his hands around Charles’ shoulders, pushes and pulls until Charles gives in and melts against his chest. “I am fine, really. I am here, aren’t I?”

Charles huffs. He grips the hem of Carlos’ shirt and presses his cold nose against Carlos’ neck.

“You could’ve lost your legs,” he mumbles.

“Not for long,” Carlos says as he draws lines on Charles’ back. Up and down, left to right, as soothing as he can make them. “I have you.”

“Yes,” Charles relents, finally, fight going out of him all at once, shackles fading until they leave only unmarred skin behind. “Yes, you do.”

He presses a kiss under Carlos’ ear. If Carlos senses a hit of teeth, too sharp to be human, he doesn’t mention it.

“Will you leave the city and its people alone?”

Charles smiles against his neck. “For now. For you. They owe you a life debt.”

“Yes, yes, my fearless demon,” Carlos says and then tightens his hold and flips them on the bed, Carlos on top, Charles splayed underneath him. For the next several hours Carlos makes sure Charles doesn’t have time to think about decimating the world. Charles lets him.

A pact with the devil is not so bad after all.

[d1strxct]

hi! i can't believe i only saw it now, but your ashe fic was so good, i really like your writing! im wondering if at some point the reader would try (keyword 'try') to retaliate,,, whether or not that backfires royally is totally up to you tho hehe ;)

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐

𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚 “𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞” 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n: *crawls out from underneath a rock* is someone out there? i know it’s been MONTHS since this was requested but it’s here! (if you’re still here, anon) i felt the need to write this now since i finally had the time (school has been kicking my ass) to scrap something together. it’s definitely shorter than my other fics since i was originally going to write headcanons, so i apologize for that. i have to get into the groove of writing again. as for the other requests, they will get done, i just don’t know when😔 either way, please enjoy 🙏

Several weeks had passed since your small ordeal with Ashe and there hasn’t been a day where she hasn’t teased you for it. From small pokes that go unnoticeable by other people to full-on scribbles on your sides, she never lets up.

And never seems to get caught either.

After an attack, Ashe quickly resumes her work and pretends nothing happened at all, sometimes asking if you’re okay to tease you. She has an innocent look on her face, and no one would believe you if you said she tickled you. So you just sigh and scramble off before anyone can become suspicious of your behavior.

One random day, you had a strong urge for revenge. Was she even ticklish? You had no clue. But there wasn’t any harm in trying.

That seemed to be a huge mistake.

It was a warm Sunday evening in the Deadlock Gang bunker. Ashe was sitting in front of her bike, using a rag to clean off some leftover dirt on the sides of it. Her back was facing towards you so you took it as the perfect opportunity for some well-needed revenge.

Just in case, you made sure no one else was around. And you looked for the nearest exit if she tried to kill you afterward. You quietly tiptoed toward Ashe, the sound of some nearby music covering up the fall of footsteps. She was so focused on her motorcycle that she didn’t notice someone behind her.

Quickly, you leaned down and let your arms fall in front of you. Your hands came near her torso and a finger from each hand landed on her sides.

Her reaction was immediate as she gasped and twisted around to see who was behind her. The piece of cloth dropped from her hand as she brought it up to grasp onto the culprit’s wrist. Her initial expression read as shocked and angry, but once she noticed it was you, she let her guard down a little. You swore you noticed the slightest hint of a blush on her cheeks.

She kept a firm grip around your wrist as she narrowed her eyebrows at you. You smiled nervously and tried to pull your arm away, your fear rising as you realized she wasn’t letting you go.

“You wanna try me?”

“I-I was just…wanting to know if you were-“

“Nuh uh. As for you though…”

Needless to say, you never tried to tickle her again.

Keeping the grip on your wrist, Ashe used her foot to kick yours from underneath you, effectively making you fall to the floor. With a gasp and a grunt, you landed on your back and shouted up at Ashe, who had followed you down and straddled your waist. She took both of your hands and put them underneath her knees so you couldn’t get out, a small smirk on her face.

Your eyes widened at how quickly this all happened, and suddenly the exit of the bunker looked miles away.

“Wait wait wait! I was just kidding! Lehet me go!”

“You were just kidding when you purposefully messed with me? I don’t think so.”

Ashe didn’t let you get another word out before her hands landed on your torso and ten scribbling fingers began to work at your sides. A squeal left your lips before loud giggles filled the air around you. You pulled at your wrists and shook your head, a wide smile forming on your face.

“Nahahaha, Ahahashe! Ihihi’m sorry!”

“You’re not apologizing yourself out of this one, Y/N. You’re not getting out until you’re begging for B.O.B, and even he won’t save ya.”

Ashe’s wiggling fingers continued to torture your sides. She used a mix of pokes, scribbles, and scratches to get all types of laughter out of you. The pokes made you flinch and squeal during each one. The scribbles got airy giggles and a wide smile. Scratches against the sides of your stomach made you kick your legs behind her and laugh loudly.

Her fingers traveled to your ribs and you threw your head back in laughter, pulling at your arms with all your decreasing strength.She prodded at each one and made sure to spend extra time on the ones that made you scream. Her fingers dug into your higher ribs and you let out shrill squeals.

“PLEHEhehease! I cahan’t!”

“You’ve endured it before. I’m sure you can do it again.”

The tease in her voice made your cheeks turn red and you sputtered out more giggles. Eventually, her hands slowed and crawled down your torso, leaving behind a ticklish feeling that made you giggle softly. You sucked in air through your teeth when she scribbled against your stomach.

“Now, if I remember correctly, your worst spot was somewhere around here.”

You gasped and shook your head quickly, your laughter rising in pitch.

“Nohoho don’t you eheheven daHAHARE-“

In an instant, Ashe’s hands dropped to your hips and she squeezed them mercilessly. Your shriek was the last thing heard before you fell into silent laughter. She smiled evilly and continued her torment on your hips.

She poked, prodded, and dug into them in random patterns, leaving you an incoherent mess. She knew from last time that digging her thumbs into the bones made you give in immediately, so after a few moments of doing just that, she let up. Her hands went back to slowly tickling your sides and you gasped for air, heavy giggles falling from your lips. You squirmed slightly and Ashe felt you quiver underneath her.

“So, Y/N. Did ya learn anythin’ tonight?”

You nodded your head frantically and giggled out an answer.

“Yehehehes! Nohohow let me goho.”

She tsked and prodded your hip again, making you cackle. She kept a hand on your hip, keeping you on edge.

“And what did we learn?”

“To-tohoho nehehever mess with yohou again.”

She nodded and moved her fingers back up again, letting them rest against your sides.

“And why is that?”

“Becahahause you’re too ticklish fohor your own g- NAHAHA!”

Ashe growled and narrowed her eyes again, hands running back down to your hips. Your screaming laughter could be heard from miles away.

It was gonna be a long night.

[btsgotjams27]

I really want to see a drabble about JK and OC having a little competitive game between them over whether the baby will say mama or dada first! And I want to see the crazy about of teasing the winner will give the loser.

hehe i love this drabble prompt! it’s so fun <3 <3

The apartment was in a constant state of mess. Bam’s toys. Iseul’s toys. Jungkook’s toys—well, action figures, you should say.

You glanced at the clock before returning your attention to Iseul, who was strapped into her high chair. Her pouty lips and cheeks are stained from strawberries because she insists on feeding herself.

Little Miss Independent.

You only had a few minutes before Jungkook would come through the door, announcing ‘daddy’s home.’

“Come on, baby girl. Can you say ma-ma?”

Iseul grabs her plastic fork, tapping it loudly on the tray, completely ignoring your request.

“Ma-ma,” you repeated.

Iseul turns to you with her big doe eyes; Bam’s laying by your feet, waiting to eat any food scraps that Iseul drops. She pokes her pancake strip, then waves her fork around, causing the pancake to drop on the ground, and Bam jumps at the chance to eat it.

She smiles, kicking her feet, excited she’s fed her best friend.

You huff, but you can’t get upset at your eight month old. Those eyes and cheeks always get the best of you, and you blame Jeon Jungkook for helping you make such a cute kid.

The beeping from the keypad can be heard and it’s another day where you’ve failed to have Iseul say, ‘ma-ma’ first. And being the daddy’s girl that Iseul is, you were determined for her first words to be ‘ma-ma.’

The door opens then shuts.

“Daddy’s home!” Jungkook takes off his shoes, setting his things down before shuffling through the hallway, finding his favorite girls at the dining table.

“Ah, there are my girls!”

Bam gets up, walking over to also get some love from him. Jungkook kneels to greet his four-legged friend.

“Bam, have you been keeping an eye on my girls?”

The doberman sniffs and licks Jungkook’s face as an answer to his question.

Iseul is squealing excitedly when she sees her dad. She’s squirming in her seat, waiting to be released.

You rake your hand through your hair to find a piece of pancake lodged in, all thanks to Iseul. Tilting your head up, you wait for a kiss from Jungkook, and you pout when he kisses Iseul instead.

He narrowed his eyes. “Have you been cheating and teaching her to say mama all day?”

You scoffed, putting your hands on your waist. “How dare you accuse me of cheating!”

“Mum-mum,” Iseul babbles, still waiting to get out of her seat.

The two of you turn to her.

You gasped. “She said mama!”

“No, she said mum-mum,” Jungkook countered.

“Same difference!”

Jungkook pulled up a chair to sit beside you. “Okay, baby girl. Can you say da-da? Da-da?”

“My sweetest girl, can you say ma-ma?” You nudged Jungkook’s hip with yours and he glared back at you.

Iseul looked at you then Jungkook, clapping her hands and cooing. She threw the rest of her strawberries and pancake on the ground.

“Ba-mee. Ba-mee.”

Of course, Iseul’s best friend comes running when he sees food on the ground. Bam gobbles everything up, including the previous crumbs on the ground.

Iseul’s giggling and clapping. “Ba-mee. Ba-mee.”

You and Jungkook looked at each other and laughed because the both of you lost at your own game. Iseul’s first word wasn’t mama or dada, it was Bamie.

You sighed. “Now, can you stop withholding kisses from me now? Because we both lost to Bam.”

Jungkook grinned from ear to ear, hooking his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. His eyes are locked in on your lips, then shift to your eyes. “Nope.”

[ahedderick]

Yesterday was a running-around day, unfortunately. We started with a family dentist trip (we schedule all our checkups at the same morning for simplicity's sake). This was literally the first time in my life that I have visited a new dentist's office, due to Dr. L's ridiculously long career followed by him selling his practice about 5 yrs ago to another dentist who kept the office and all the staff the same. Small town stuff.

There were a couple of hours between that and the afternoon errand. I wanted to sew, but my brain . . .

Me: I want to sew

My Brain: Yes! Let's do the easy part!

Me: Noo-o-o, we need to figure out that welt pocket before doing the easy part.

My Brain: Augh! No! Only the easy part!

The pattern I'm using has directions for a FAKE POCKET on this vest. I want to put in a real one. Not that the Son has a pocket watch, but I am against fake pockets in general. I cut some scrap fabric and made one for practice (a garmentless pocket? hehee). It turned out just fine, so I took some measurements and cut a rectangular piece of the gray fabric. The problem I face was that the vest fabric has a little 'give' to it, whereas the scrap I used was very crisp, sturdy fabric. It took a bit longer than I wanted, and a LOT of concentration, but it turned out ok. Not pro-quality, but acceptable.

In the afternoon I had to drive about an hour east to another town to pick up unsold artwork from a gallery Christmas show. My daughter wanted a particular pair of jeans from Target, which does not exist in our town, so she came along. That made the trip much nicer. Navigating the road structure of a giant-mall proved to be a bit beyond my capabilities, tho. It didn't help that, once we were on mall property, they didn't have road signs intersections. Are we on Cole Road or not? GUESS!! We got there by a circling, scanning-the-horizon, seat-of-the-pants style of navigation. Target's sign is highly visible from a distance.

Once inside, I was flabbergasted. I have never been in a Target before. I have never been in a store that LARGE before. I couldn't even see the other side of the store, it just vanished into the distance. In an unbelievable stroke of luck, the jeans she needed were literally the FIRST clothing display inside from where we entered. She found what she wanted, tried it on, and we got the heck out of there.

Unhappily, the gallery returned all three of the works I had submitted . . I was really hoping they'd have sold one or two. She drove on the way home, which was fine except for the travelling-west-into-the-late-afternoon-sun issue. And then when we got less than a mile from home, she somehow managed to pick up a razor blade in the left rear tire. When we got out at the house she could hear the hiss of escaping air. How? Was a razor blade sitting on the road in such a way that it could enter a tire? The darned thing is FLAT! It should have been lying there flat! Why? did someone toss that on a country road? Many questions. Glad we got home, but today will have an unexpected car-fixing complication.

[wild-karrde]

Hehe the menace has arrived. CONGRATS ON THE BIG 400!!! Im here with a hope that some Grunter may help warm your soul during these times. I’m thinking Typho/Hunter + “how can one man need so many bandanas?” It can be fluffy/angsty/saucy, whatever your brain vibes with 😎

TJ, MY FAVORITE MENACE/BETA-READER, I AS ALWAYS, APPRECIATE YOUR ENABLING. Grunter Fluff below the cut (tis a bit saucy, but I stand by it). LET THE CRACK SHIP SAIL ONCE MORE!!!

Pairing: Gregar Typho x Hunter (I know, it's crack, but I HAVE MY REASONS) - this pairing was originally introduced in my fic "Guarded" if you want to know the background

Rating: M (implied sexual content)

“Where the kriff is it?” 

Gregar Typho dodged a flying Lula that had been precariously tossed around as he stepped onboard the Havoc Marauder. Peering into the aft end, he found Hunter on his hands and knees, rummaging around under the bunks. 

“I know I saw it around here this morning,” the sergeant muttered under his breath as he pushed Wrecker’s clutter around.

Typho leaned a shoulder against the interior of the ship’s hull. “Lose something?” he asked. 

Hunter had apparently been so absorbed in his search that he hadn’t noticed the captain’s appearance, and at the sound of his voice, he jumped, slamming his skull against the underside of the bunk. He swore loudly, rolling out from under it and sitting with his legs outstretched, rubbing at the back of his head. Typho chuckled, pushing off the wall and coming to squat in front of Hunter, tipping his head forward to inspect the back of it. He always loved running his fingers through Hunter’s curls and was more than happy to have a justified reason to do so. 

“Not even a bump,” he teased, and Hunter huffed in reply. 

“Have you seen my bandana?” 

“Which one?” It was a running joke between the two of them, one that Hunter currently did not have the patience for. 

“You know I only have the one.”

“Two.”

“The second one is a scarf. There’s a difference.”

Typho sighed dramatically. “How can one man need so many bandanas?”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “We’ve got to head out soon, and I really need to find it.” 

“Why don’t you find another piece of something to tie your hair back with?” Typho offered. “It’s not like there’s any shortage of fabric scraps around the base.”

Hunter scrubbed his hands over his face. “I know that, but that… that one’s lucky.” 

Typho paused, searching Hunter’s eyes. “What makes it lucky?” 

Hunter scooted towards the opposite side of the ship, starting to dig around through some of the storage crates pushed against the wall as he tossed his answer over his shoulder. “Crosshair gave it to me right after we completed our training together. Made some snarky comment about making sure I could see things clearly.” He paused, glancing back at Typho, who was listening intently. “I-I know it’s silly, but I’ve always felt I make my best decisions with that thing. That I do see clearly.” He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “I know superstitions aren’t real and that they don’t actually make a difference, but it feels like that bandana keeps me and my team safe. So that’s why I’m so stubborn about finding it.” 

Typho watched him for another moment before coming to sit next to him. Heaving a deep sigh, he reached into his back pocket, pulling out the familiar piece of folded red fabric and handing it to Hunter. Hunter raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You took it?”

The former Naboo captain shrugged. “I was hoping to keep something that smelled like you while you were away. Something to hold at night. Since you hardly wash that thing, I figured you wouldn’t miss it, but if that bandana gives you a better chance of returning to me safely, then it’s not worth the risk.” He smiled as Hunter took it, running the fabric through his fingers before he leaned over, cradling Typho’s jaw and kissing him gently. 

“I’ll always return to you, Gregar.” 

Typho leaned into his touch, placing his hands over the back of Hunter’s. “You had better.” 

Hunter pressed his forehead to Typho’s. “I’m sorry I don’t have another shirt or scarf to give you, but I just did laundry. This shirt is the only one that I’ve worn recently.” 

A wicked grin tugged at the corner of Typho’s lips. “Well, we could always dirty it up before you leave.” 

“But then I’d have to take it off and find another.” 

Typho pushed him to the ground, straddling his hips as he kissed along Hunter’s jaw, chuckling against his skin. “I think that’s a good compromise.”

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[gingerpeachtea]

For the fanfic ask game:

C: What character do you identify with most?

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

C: i answered this one in this post :D

-

G: i 100% write them out of order every time without fail; coming up w structured plots is Not my strong suit. i usually i just write a bunch of shit and then just stick it together in whatever order seems the most plausible LMAODJFK. i just whatever pieces of a scene first come to mind, finish that scene or just work on it until i come up w another scene idea, and then build the fic around whatever emotional arc the main character is experiencing.

for example (bc i love talking about what i write hehe), the initial idea that lead to me writing lose your faith in me was just daisy breaking down in lincoln’s arms. the very first thing i actually wrote for that fic were the last two sentences of the first scene. once i figured out i wanted the fic to deal with post-hive isolation stuff and daisy’s guilt (bc she needed to be having a breakdown for a reason lmaosjfj), it kinda went like this:

had a mental illness moment so i wrote the mack intrusive thought moment bc i <3 projecting -> went ‘omg it would be soo crazy if jemma walked in rn’ -> wrote the jemma confrontation -> went back to write everything leading up to daisy’s breakdown in the first scene -> wrote the last scene (bc now that i knew how the arc was starting i knew i wanted it to end w a parallel bc growth) -> wrote the “she could still hear his biting sympathy” moment as its own small separate scene -> scrapped that cuz it was too short -> went back to finish the jemma confrontation -> added the andrew guilt moments bc everyone forgets he died for her too?? -> finished the entire fic -> incorporated the lil scrapped scene back in last minute as a little parentheses moment in the first scene literally two seconds before uploading the fic to ao3

(that isn’t even including the fact that a good portion of the jemma confrontation was entirely frankensteined together from various little moments that i just stuck together with scotch tape, feelings, and mental illness but if i went into detail about that we’d be here for the next 52 years)

so um. yeah in conclusion i definitely don’t write things in order LMFAOOO

-

S: hurt/comfort!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! almost every single one of my fics include it and (i genuinely just did the math😭) 48% of my bookmarks on ao3 have it tagged

[ambrosewriter]

Baptism of Betrayal

After Ayumi kills Naomi in the basement, she begins to realize the fate she has locked herself into.

This is an extension of Wrong End 2 ★4 of Chapter 5 in BloodCovered: Repeated Fear. !!This fic does not follow the ending faithfully, rather it is my interpretation of it.

I killed her.

Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.

Euphoria coursed through my veins. 

I finally bested her. It took long enough for me to finally do it. Her blood stained my hand and the sleeve of my uniform a beautiful shade of red. The most beautiful I’d ever seen up until now. Who cares if it is the same color as Suzumoto’s, who is splattered against a wall? I welcome this new spider lily accessory; I’ll be able to wash it off soon anyway. My uniform might need a little bit more elbow grease, but that’s okay; so does my skirt.

“I’ll be taking this! Hehe.” I took the paper doll scrap from Nakashima’s hand. Somehow, rigor mortis has already set in, further pushing the narrative that time is moving differently here in this space. Her knuckles made an eerie clicking sound as I grabbed the piece of paper.

Now all that is left is to find Mochida. He must be hurt by the loss of his sister, poor girl. Maybe if she didn’t meddle in our business back in the classroom, she wouldn’t have been in this situation to begin with.

Rounding the corner, I found him sooner than I anticipated. “Mochida-kun!!” I called out to him, but no response. “Hey, come on! Let’s get out of here!”

He didn’t say a thing, never even made an effort to look up to me. Walking closer to him, I saw the thick, black mist surrounding him. The only thing falling out of his mouth at this point is “Yuka… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry….”

Satoshi Mochida is gone. There is no life in his eyes. No will to live. No hope like I saw moments before.

“No… the darkening. Not you too,” 

This curse has claimed another friend. Kishinuma is the second, as he is likely still standing by that incinerator in a more sorry state than Mochida. The boys are gone. Nakashima and Mochida found Yuka dead further in the basement. Nakashima is...

Nakashima… She’s… I…

“No… No. No. No. NOOOOO!!!”

I am the last person still alive. Everyone else is gone. The paper doll scrap I killed someone over is now useless. Without someone else to do the charm with, I have no way to get out.

The realization hit me hard. My knees began to give out. I backed away from Mochida to the middle of the intersection. One way made me face the unnecessary murder I had just committed, and the other made me face the reality of my permanent entrapment. I walked towards Nakashima. She lays on the dirt ground, bruised and bloody from where I pummeled her. I took a closer look.

The bitch is smiling at me. Even in death, she has a goddamn smirk on her face. Once again, she proves that I will never get what I want.

I ran away from the scene of my crime. I can’t take looking at either of them anymore. It felt like I was inhaling ice shards as I ran. The taste and smell of metal hit the back of my throat as I breathed. Anything is welcome to distract me from this hell I’ve put myself into.

Running past all the podiums and displays full of severed heads from countless victims who have been sent here, I made it to the basement door.

“Let me out!” I began banging my fists on the door, “Let me out! Let me out!” 

The door won’t give. It will never give. The warding charms on the other side are keeping it closed, and there is nothing I can do to open it. Whatever blood was still wet or malleable on my hand splattered onto the door. I pounded and pounded with the false hope that the hallway on the other side would show itself.

“Let me out, please!” I slid down the door and fell onto my knees. Tears began to fall down my face. My cries are only heard by the deaf ears of corpses. 

“Mom!”

“Nee-chan!” 

…

“Kishinuma!” 

How pathetic do I have to be to call out to Kishinuma, of all people? At this point, I am no different than Mochida, who is letting words stumble out of his mouth.

This school has bested me, finally cracked me. I am merely a human girl who cannot do anything other than whine, bitch, and complain. All of this is because of me. I was the one who found the charm; I was the one who suggested doing it. I cut out the paper doll so merrily, I made it a big deal with Suzumoto leaving.

My vision began to darken. Maybe it was the basement lights finally giving out, or I haven’t been breathing properly down here. Of course I wasn’t; the air here is thick, and I’ve been crying and wailing. It began to darken deeper. I raised my hand to look at the blood. It’s darker now, having dried up for the most part, with parts on the side of my hand peeking through from where it made contact with the door. 

Oh… I get it now. I’m succumbing to the darkening. It’s a fitting end for someone like me. I turned to rest my back against the door. The lightbulb’s glow grew dimmer as the hallway appeared to grow in length. That darkness at the very end looked as if it were crawling toward me. It reminds me of the weird stains on the floor when Yuki came to give Kishinuma and I her thanks.

Kishinuma… 

I never thanked him for coming back. He wouldn’t be able to hear me, but the gesture, I’m sure, would have been felt. I never apologized for being vile to him, either. Berating him back in our classroom was uncalled for. He was only trying to help make this situation better. Even after I said what I did, he still came in to help me. I’m not worthy of his love or admiration.

The darkness crawled closer.

Nakashima…

I should have just left her alone. If I did, we could have both left. I could have snagged Mochida’s scrap from his pocket. I shouldn’t have let my jealousy and anger get the best of me, or we could both be home.

Red eyes began to pop out from the darkness. They have no pupils, irises, or sclera; they’re just a flat red. The same eyes I saw back in 2-9. I felt all of them analyzing me. They felt familiar, almost like they were my friends berating me. 

Not long after the eyes, the voices began to speak up.

“How could you do this?” 

“Why did you kill me?”

“Why did you kill us?”

“It hurts so much.”

“Do you know what you did to us?”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!

“Don’t you think I feel guilty?! I didn’t want any of this!”

I took my newfound energy and sprang up to my feet. I ran back in, past the eyes, pushing out the voices. The hands were making desperate attempts to grab me, but failed.

How does one escape their own head? That’s all it is, my own mind working against me.

Wait.

My own head?

Running back past the trophies, around the maze, I find myself back at Nakashima’s corpse. She was still wearing that smirk on her face, like she knew what she was doing to me.

I let out a guttural scream and threw myself at her. I began clawing at her throat.

“Let’s shut you up, huh? HUH? Do you think you can get away with messing with me?! Last time I checked, I was the one who bested you! Who gave you the right to fuck with me?”

My hands found their way from her throat to her mouth. I dug my fingernails in and tore whatever skin off. It was in my way. I pushed past her teeth and dug my nails into her tongue.

“Do you know why those kids didn’t talk? It’s because Sachiko cut their tongues out! Haha, yes! So, if it worked for her, it should work for me too! Aha ha ha ha ha!”

My cheeks are stinging, but I don’t care. The euphoria I felt moments ago has come back with a vengeance.  

I continued to claw at Nakashima’s face until she was unrecognizable. Ripping her tongue out of her mouth caused blood to spray onto my face. If her mother saw her, I’m sure she would cry hysterically.

“Aha ha ha ha ha. Do you still feel confident now? The only reason why anyone would bother looking at you is because of your tits! That’s the only thing anyone would care about anyway!”

I stood up to admire my handiwork from afar. Blood dripped from my fingertips, the sound echoing through the empty halls. Laughter roared out of me. There was no stopping it. Naomi Nakashima was wounded beyond recognition to anyone but me. Only other unfortunate souls sent here will ever learn her name from her I.D.. 

Now everything on me is covered in red. The blood drying gave me a weird sticky sensation, but only on small patches of my skin. It was irritating. I want to wash it off, but this building has no working water.

I began to wipe off as much as possible, but all the fabric was stained after a while.

“Ghh… I need to get this off. But where… where?”

Aimlessly walking around, I found myself back at the body pool. It smells of death in here, so much so that anyone would vomit just by standing in the doorframe, but it doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, I walked in merrily to the edge of the pool and stuck my hands in.

“Weird, I thought it’d be cooler.”

The mixture of blood, viscera and rotten meat was oddly warm. Inviting, almost. Too inviting.

“Going further shouldn’t hurt, right?”

I sunk my arms up to my elbows. Then to my shoulders. Soon, I found myself fully submerged. I already nearly drowned once; a second time wouldn’t hurt. 

I put my head under and swallowed as much as I could. It tasted horrendous, but I couldn’t stop. Eventually, I began sinking further into the pool.

Why was I doing this?

Wait.

Why was I doing this?

Snapping out of whatever idiotic mindset I was in, I made vain attempts to reach the surface. None of them succeeded. I must lay in the baptismal font of my sins, as it is my punishment.

Slowly but surely, my memory from the past hour or so came back piece by piece. How could I have desecrated Nakashima like that? Even the first time around, I didn’t want to. What a pitiful person I am.

My vision began to darken again, but this time for good. Indeed, this is a fitting end for a betrayer like me.

a/n: thank you so much for reading <3 this is my first fic that i've published ! i do plan on making more Wrong End Extensions, so stay tuned :) i do have a ao3 under the same name (ambrose_writer) so feel free to show support on both sites :)

[cabinofimagines]

Holi-days seven; Tight Knit

Hehe danny has had her reign, now I get to drop in again

Pairing: PLATONIC Connor, Hazel, Frank and Reyna x gn!reader

Warnings: None!

Words: 1.2k (oops)

<- prev - mlist - next ->

-Asnyox

You knew Klaus had offered to teach you and whomever else was interested to knit today. What you had not expected, was that he invited about three quarters of camp to learn, and that Connor had followed him around telling everyone about a ‘secret’ plan. As soon as you understood what Connor was planning, you laughed at his naivety.

This guy had either underestimated how hard knitting would be for a bunch of hyperactive demigods or overestimated the willpower of campers to pull of this prank.   Although the latter would be the deciding factor in his plan, you supposed.

You sat at one of the tables, with your friends by your side. Sometimes you forget how big you friend group is, for even if not everyone showed up you easily filled a table solely with you friends. Frank and Hazel had each taken on of your sides and you were holding a staring competition with Reyna. It was not really a competition, but rather it was a ‘You made eye contact and now neither is looking away’. Normal people behaviour.

“I didn’t know you were interested in Knitting,” You stated, suspicion in your voice. Reyna smiled.

“I’ve always liked to learn how to knit, and I finally picked it up with the Hunters.” Her face turned a little bit softer, “It’s nice to make some warm socks when you spend this much time on your feet.”

“And you never made any for me?” You gasped and Reyna laughed.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll find some in your stocking.”

Conversation flowed easily as everyone waited for Klaus to take the reins.  Eventually, after some Hermes kids came out and distributed knitting needles and yarn to everyone, Klaus coughed as he got everyone’s attention.

“Hello my little elves!” Klaus smiled, “Today I will try to teach you how to knit,” Suddenly Connor popped up behind him.

“And together we will knit a blanket that will cover the entire dining pavilion!” Connor yelled and cheers came from the tables around you, as you shot Reyna a confused look.

“Ah yes,” Klaus looked slightly surprised, “This will be a team effort, for sure. Anyways-” as Klaus explained how to start your knitting work, and with some help from Reyna, you got to knitting.

───────────

“This is harder than it looks,” Hazel stated as she stared intensely at her needle work, “I keep messing up the loops that I do.” You looked up from your work, gazing at Hazel’s handiwork. You noticed that her yarn ball was more like a yarn knot at this point.

“When did you yarn unroll?” You asked and Hazel sighed.

“I don’t know, but that is a problem for later.”

“I think I am getting the hang of it?” Frank mumbled from next to you, and as you looked over you saw that he had a decent square shape going. You let out a soft ‘wow’ as you looked at the mess in your hands. It was not the worst, but it was definitely not great either. You sighed as you looked around the Arts and Crafts building, noticing that quiet a few campers had left already. There were a few abandoned projects here and there, and you saw Klaus picking them up carefully and finishing them.

After another hour or so, Connor dejectedly walked up to your table.

“Please tell me you guys made a massive blanket together.” He pouted, and everyone at your table held up their little squares. Connor sighed, as he sat down next to Reyna, “No one said knitting was so slow!” he complained.

“Now, now, Connor, we still have a lot of little bits!” Klaus sat down next to Frank, dropping a pile of scraps on the table, “If I may, can I have your pieces? Then we can see what the effort of the camp made!” Klaus smiled, and you could have sworn his ears twitched. You handed him your needles and patch of knit work, which he quickly finished.

“And where is my favourite elf, Jason?” Klaus asked, a glint in his eyes, “or my second favourite, Percy?” Klaus started working on sowing the patches of knitwork together.

“Jason, I don’t know,” Connor started, as he looked with little hope at what Klaus was doing, “Percy said he was doing research or something.”

“Ah, Percy has seemed a little stressed lately,” Frank noted, “Hey Klaus can you teach me how to finish the knitting process?” Klaus nodded eagerly.

───────────

In the end, your ‘blanket to cover the dining hall’ ended up more the size of ‘blanket to cover some knees, maybe shoulders’. You were still impressed by the size of the blanket in the end, and more so at how aesthetically pleasing Klaus made the blanket in the end, with just the little knitted patches that everyone made. Connor seemed less happy with the outcome; his plans ruined.

“What do we do with this?” he complained, as Klaus put a simply yarn bow around the folded blanket.

“Maybe you can give it to someone?” Klaus got a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Someone who could use a little warmth from the campers?” Conner seemed deep in thought, before he looked up and spotted his target.

“You are right Klaus!” Connor stood up, grabbing the blanket, “Let’s give it to Chiron.” He smiled, and for once he seemed to not have anything up his sleeve. You watched as he walked up to Chiron, and gave the centaur the blanket.

As you were taking in the adorable sight of Chiron lowkey fawning over the blanket (and being showered by the campers in compliments for the blanket) you sighed a little. The holidays were almost over, and you were going to miss everyone who was around at camp. You were also regretting that you could not attend the new years party this year, and you were dreading even more to go to the party in your hometown. Someone had leaked you the information that a certain unwanted guest would attend, whom you did not want to face alone.

But that was a problem for another day. Right now, you were getting distracted by Percy, who was aggressively gesturing for you to come to him. When you reached him, he quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you to be away from the Arts and Crafts building.

“You must have noticed something off from Klaus.”

“I mean, nothing weird outside of the general child of Hermes behaviour.” You stated. Percy seemed unconvinced, but before he could say anything you shook your head “Perce, sometimes the best option is to just ignore other people’s behaviour if it bothers you.” You softly grabbed his hand and looked Percy in the eye “Klaus is a nice kid, so give him a shot, alright?”

“I see he has you in his grips too, (Y/n).” Percy stepped away, a determined glint in his eyes, “I will uncover the truth and expose him. I promise.” Percy swiftly turned around and started walking away. You could hear him murmur to himself as he clearly was making his way back to the Arts and Crafts building.

[postwarlevi]

Hi Eliza!! I'm here for the ask game hehe. May I know the answers to 🎢⛔❌?

– Rei <3 @levi-supreme

Hi Rei!! How's it going? Okay so..

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Uh, ones I haven't written yet LOL, I'm thinking those royalty or historical ones. For me to write, probably up to this point, Weary, because I was in a very emotional space when writing. For reading, I'd think maybe the plot outline to Silence honestly. I had this idea that slapped me in the face and left it on a cliffhanger for parts 3 and 4.. which will happen in the story if I ever write it! (but you'll now know whats going to happen haha)

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

Kind of. One long fic that started off tumblr before I joined, won't ever get finished but I keep it for future shorter ideas. Others are pieces and paragraphs that were originally included in fics that have been posted that I took out cause I didn't like where it was going in the fic, but I have those saved for future possible use too.

Part of one is having a non vocal son that will now he used on a different fic about communicating in sign language.

Another is being cut into multiple parts that were originally intended for the fic Chaise that I had the hardest time getting right! They will include awkward relationship phases like first sleepovers and figuring out if it's okay to hold hands and stuff. Little fluffy things :)

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

I feel like I don't know all (most) of the tropes, but off the top of my head things with dark content or most smut things, major character death.. probably no body swapping or time loops...yeah thats what I can think of LOL.

Fanfic writers ask

[anywherebuthere]

we were both young when I first saw you || f.w.

Fred Weasley x fem slytherin!reader

"you burn me away until there is nothing left for you to hold."

Wordcount: 986

A/N: Shakespeare wishes he was me 😩🙏 this is a joke I'm very sorry. But uhhh, I wrote this cause I was feeling sad and it's not great but whatever 🤸‍♀️ title has no real correlation to the fic, it's just there because of Taylor's new album hehe.

Warnings: mediocre writing, angst but really bad, self destructive fred (only shown in relationship context), maybe a wee bit toxic </3 no happy ending

Please do not repost this!! I do not consent to this piece of fiction being published on any other site besides tumblr unless it is by my doing.

wanna be tagged? join my taglist!

It wasn't that Fred had never noticed her.

On the contrary, it was rather hard not to.

She was always there, at the center of every class discussion, the embodiment of angelic grace in the eyes of their peers. Gazes followed her wherever she went and he would be lying if he said he was an exception.

The difference was that she noticed him back.

Moments in which they lingered on the outskirts of their circles, though far and few in between, existed. Quick darting glances and the brush of fingers as they passed in the halls were the extents of their interactions, neither daring to cross the perpetual divide between them.

In his eyes, the chasm of difference was unbridgeable. They were separated by opposing forces and as time passed, the abyss became endless in their polarity.

While she wore green, he wore red, the colours contrasting against each other in the segregated rows of classrooms.

While her robes were brand new and tailored, his had already been worn by all three of his older brothers.

While she sat serenely, he fidgeted, never feeling content in the stilted quiet.

She was creation, a paragon of life, flouncing from experience to experience, friendship to friendship.

He was ruination, determined to live a life of destruction, leaving chaos in his wake so long as it brought him laughter.

Cautious, calculating.

Callous, carefree.

But what was more temptatious than the impossible?

So the flitting gazes persisted. Brushing hands became the briefest linking of pinkies, palms meeting in the smooth press of a palmer's kiss as they passed. In their prolonged touches, their world of difference closed, the rift seemingly gapped.

Secret passageways became the center stage for whatever it was they shared; the scraps of feeling and sweet nothings exchanged under dim candlelight and damp corridors.

It wasn't much but it was enough.

And to her, it was everything.

How cruel of the universe to so fervently push two souls together only to rip them apart as fast as they came.

-

A life of hardship and struggle had not allowed him to grow accustomed to nice things. Fred resented things he didn't have and when he did have them, he did not understand how to look after them.

Some things were meant to be handled with care, and in the aftermath of their heated touch, a purgatory free of sin, he would forget that she was not another thing for him to break.

"You didn't think I was taking you to the Yule Ball did you?" he snorted, aiming his gaze to the low stone ceiling of their passageway, perhaps subconsciously avoiding the look of hope that had adorned her face. One of which had crumpled at his harsh tone just now.

His palms grew clammy and he sensed her shifting away from him. He snuck a glance down at her and felt a pang deep within his chest at the sight of her slowly folding into herself.

"Yeah no, it was uhm- just an idea," she responded, lip pursed, her voice whittling down to a trace of a whisper.

"I was actually thinking of asking Angelina. Johnson? You know her right?" he continued. He wasn't sure what compelled him to say this. He hadn't been thinking of asking Johnson.

In fact, for the last week, he had thought of nothing but what it would be like to dance with her under the night sky. Of how the moonlight would reflect off her silky skin. So why was he twisting the knife in her heart further?

She had been the one that had taken the first jump across their chasmic divide. Despite the lion crest adorning his jumper and the snake on hers, he had been the coward. His bravery was nowhere to be found when it came to the unknown.

She knew that she wanted him.

All he knew was fire and his innate ability in burning away the beauty around him, bit by bit until nothing remained but ash.

She didn't return the next night.

Or the next after that.

-

"Look I said I was sorry, I don't know what more you want me to say" Fred exclaimed, exasperated.

She refused to meet his gaze, her face flushed in frustration and he swore he caught a glimpse of tears in her eyes. He faltered.

She had returned to the drafty hall after a week. A week in which he continued to show up, waiting in hopes that she would come back and they could resume whatever semblance of a relationship they had shared.

Pride and dignity be damned, he was ready to grovel at her feet. When the time came, however, he was left stuttering, unsure. The unknown loomed over him, awash with uncertainty and insecurity.

He had made her cry.

In the midst of this realization, she mumbled something, though it was lost to the buzz in his ear as he witnessed himself destroyed yet another perfectly good thing.

"W-what?" he mumbled, dazed.

"I asked why you're ashamed of me," she said, louder this time.

For the first time tonight, under the heavy cloak of shadow in their corridor, she looked him in the eye. Her lip was quivering, eyes shining with unshed tears, though her voice remained clear.

Creation, clarity, control. She was the very essence of everything he was not and would never be.

He will never be enough for her.

Taking his silence as an answer, she turned away from him for the last time.

He will never be able to stop hurting her.

Suddenly the bridge across their divide crumpled and he watched her crumble with it, the ashes of their time together blowing away in the wind as she stepped forward.

He will never be able to cross the rift between them again.

His answer to her question died away on his tongue.

"It's me that you should be ashamed of."

taglist: @mollysolo @gxtitobxby @anchoeritic @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

[wh6res]

spectator | jeno

"don't cry, little dove. i'm not even done yet." — ljn

TW mafia au, blood, violence, mentions of prostitution and brothels, mentions of past torture, extreme power imbalance, dumbification, they used a tranquilizer

A/N first half is told in renjun's pov also this is for dino anon hehe thank u for the inspo babes!!

DISC i don't condone anything. this isn't love.

WC 1.4k

renjun was fairly new to the mafia but it didn't take him long to realize the outrageous things they considered are the norms here. one of the first things he noticed is a cute little bunny dressed in scraps that always seemed to tail jeno wherever he went. jeno was his superior, albeit they were the same age, so it sucked that renjun had to use honorifics.

oftentimes he ignores you when jeno stands before him giving orders, or when they pass by each other in the hallways and stop to exchange pleasantries.

as renjun quickly climbed the ranks thanks to his agility and cunning mind, you, unfortunately, remained in the same position—always sitting by jeno's feet like a puppy, a body, a plaything, a whore. there were rumors that the boss gave his executives a chance to pick from the litters before they're shipped off to brothels, kind of like peace offerings in exchange for their compliance.

people said the stoic, muscular young man never really indulged himself in such temporary matters. until probably two years ago, until jeno first laid his eyes on you and decided then and there you were too pretty to become a random whore in the chain of brothels the mafia owned. the petite boy believes maybe it's a disguised blessing on your part, at least you'd only have to deal with one man every night, right?

renjun can only look at you from afar, keeping in mind not to stare too openly nor too intrusively that your owner notices. he's seen the bruises. the purple and black patches of your skin and renjun never gets used to it. his stomach turning at the idea of jeno deliberately marking your skin where the oversized shirt you wear won't be able to cover. the chinese immigrant would be stupid not to notice what that meant—it's jeno's clear sign of dominance, of the severe power imbalance, and not a single man in this building can stop him from doing whatever he wants to you.

renjun managed to piece things together thanks to his naturally observant nature. jeno never punished you for what you did, he punished you because he knows he can't touch his subordinates for something measly such as bumping or staring at his whore. the young mafia executive decides to take it out on you instead, albeit the flawed logic and unfairness of it all—proof that every person in this criminal organization is fucked up in the head.

despite jeno's maltreatment, renjun never heard a single complaint from you nor can he detect a feeling of rebellion out of you. you were so eerily compliant that the chinese can't help but think of what other horrible means jeno did for you to become so broken. renjun tried thinking about it, once, but never again. he can be cruel if he wants to be, but not without purpose. not because he gets a kick out of seeing a face twisted in terror. he wasn't like jeno, who smiled and laghed after blowing someone's brain up in the mafia's torture rooms.

this is why jeno is the only man fit for the job, the reason he became an executive at such a young age—there's no man he can't break for information. renjun doesn't know what jeno does to the poor people in the torture rooms but the piercing screams are enough to decide never to go against his superior.

renjun never thought he'll live the day to hear your screams coming from one of those rooms.

"what?" he does a double-take, eyes wide and unbelieving. "what do you mean she's in there? that's her, right now?"

haechan shrugs, wincing when he hears another scream coming from inside the room. he'll never know why these rooms aren't soundproof, maybe it was a way for jeno to keep his subordinates in line—"hear that? just be grateful that's not you."—you wouldn't want to cross a man who has no moral compass. "yeah. i heard she tried to escape."

renjun doesn't like the cool, amused smirk on haechan's face as he leaned back against the door, looking like everything is okay when it's not. "heard she got like… what, ten feet? give or take—yeah, i think ten feet out the door before jaemin's men tranqed her so much she would have slept for a week."

it was easy for renjun to detach himself, disregard his own set of beliefs and sweep them all under the pretense of "it's just work, nothing personal" but with you, it felt different. he knows you. well, knows of you. it's different, personal even, when he can match a face to those gruesome, ear-shattering screams that wracked through his bones.

he wanted to help you.

renjun wanted to help you.

but no, he didn't want to get shot in the head for insubordination.

jeno manually props you against the wall, cringing at the trail of blood that stains the tiles and pools underneath you. your shirt—rather, jeno's—was soaked through with the crimson liquid, your hair sticking to the side of your head. it feels like you were burning from the inside with every breath you take.

maybe months, years, of compliance made you forgetful. after all, jeno is a man of his word, through and through. he can only threaten you so much until he snaps. maybe he deemed the swift punishments and his harsh words insufficient. but who were you kidding? with the stunt you pulled… fuck, why did you even think of making a run for it? you should've known you won't even make it across the street! stupid. stupid. stupid.

you swore never to make him angry enough to bring you back down here in the torture chambers—this is his domain, and you shivered in fear with every fleeting thought you have about what he does behind those cement walls.

the first time jeno took you down here had been granted by the boss himself (see, the man running the mafia has favorites). jeno's men held you by the arms and made you watch as he killed a poor guy with his bare hands. slowly, excruciatingly, bleeding out because of the wounds jeno inflicted with his fists alone.

the second time was because of your first escape attempt. ah, you had been so energetic back then. always talking back, snarling and cursing him out. after that second time, you've become more compliant and have thoroughly embodied whatever sick fantasy jeno had of you. his broken doll, unseeing, unthinking, who breathes and lives only because he wanted her to.

you've heard him countless times say how much he missed that energetic personality you had. but only because you knew at least then he'd think the cruel punishments are justified.

oftentimes, he'll say it when you two are alone, in his room at headquarters, too disgustingly intimate like lovers and not a whore and her owner. his cold lips leavees a sweet trail on your neck, blood-stained hands soiling your skin underneath the dirty shirt, before finally slotting himself next to you as the cot creaks with the extra weight. he reeked of sweat and metallic and his eyes hazy from that post-bloodlust high.

jeno's boots squelch when he steps closer. never crouching, he wanted you to feel that severe power imbalance between the two of you.

"i won't ask you to apologize. not when i know you don't mean it."

you don't bother to reply. not because you don't want to but because you can't, voice utterly hoarse and scratchy from screaming while jeno breaks and tears you down as if he doesn't whisper the words i love you at night. you're his lover only when he needs you to be. sad, that he rarely felt the need of a lover and more so needed a cunny to fuck.

finally, he crouches. slow and never breaking eye contact. he raises a hand to push a strand of hair away from your face probably. you flinch. he doesn't care. "jeno, please don't touch me." but he touches you anyway.

you feel the callouses in his palms as he caresses your face. the calm before the storm. the deep inhale before the plunge. jeno grabs your chin and tilts your head up, a serene smile ghosting his lips. he looked at peace. satisfied. and you have never been more scared of him than you ever did in the last four years.

"don't cry, little dove. i'm not even done yet."

jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[binniesthighs]

hellooo i have read your Han fic and it's so gooooooood you really know how to portray the one and only Han Jisung omgggg. can i ask for a seventeen smut? if it's okay with you. since I'm into Jeonghan these days i really want to know how will Jeonghan react if you two arw bffs since high school then one day things changed, both of you began being so touchy and flirty then he challenges you if you can resist him omgggg like he is so cocky and confident aaaaaah BYE-

aweee thank you so much! I love love love writing for the one and only Han Jisung!! thank you so much for your patience as well anon I’m soooo sorry that this took me an age to get out, but I hope that ya like the product hehe 💕

yjh was here | reader x jeonghan |

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x yoon jeonghan

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: friends to lovers, bit of a comfort fic, bestfriend!jeonghan, cockyandflirty!jeonghan as we love him, lowkey mutual pining, mingyu, wonwoo, soonyoung side characters, coworkers au, mentions of food and mild food dares, mentions of alcohol+getting drunk, mentions of divorce (past), marking, reach-around teasing (r receiving), fluffy unprotected sex, body praising, spicy truth or dare, cuddles

Word count: 4.4k

Yoon Jeonghan had a habit. It wasn’t the worst of habits, but it was the kind that would clutter up your life. Often, you would wonder why he would do it, and why he hadn’t stopped: not even after you had mentioned it so many times.

It had started in high school. High school, that eternity away now. Luckily, your past was riddled with memories of him, and all of the little things that you had shared together; lunches, late nights studying, throwing littler paper wads at eachother from across the room. He would pull at the tie around your neck that was a part of the school uniform just to get a rise out of you. Jeonghan would nap during class, and you would be the one to wake him up with the flick of your finger. On cold walks to school, he would lend you his scarf, and on hot summer nights you’d stay out searching for snacks until sleep drew your eyes down, and he’d let you lean on him the whole walk home.

yjh was here

He wrote it on the first exam you had ever failed in your whole life.

Conversely, he had gotten nearly a perfect score. He was annoyingly good at everything he did. That, or he was just really good at cheating his way through things. When you thought about it, it was likely the latter that was more accurate.

At first you thought it was a joke. It was as if he was taunting you for failing miserably at mathematics II. You were never good at math anyway.

The second time he wrote it was when you had fallen asleep in class. It wasn’t a common occurrence. He’d call you a baby for being scared to fall asleep during class for fear of being startled awake by the teacher. However, this was the week that had been the longest for you: the week that everything fell apart.

Even into your mid twenties, your mother still would never tell you why your father had left that week and you never saw it fit to prod more.

He had written it on a scrap piece of paper after getting you a strawberry milk and leaving it for you on your desk.

yjh was here

Since then, he had taken the opportunity to write it everywhere he could manage. Suddenly his little scribbles filled up the margins of your notebooks; on post-it notes--he’d even etch it onto the skin on your arm in soft blue pen ink. Later, when the two of you had gone on to college, he would sneak into your dorm to write it everywhere he could find. No matter how many times you would erase it from your little whiteboard by your desk, he’d always manage to write it over, noticing immediately that it was gone.

Today, you had noticed that he had slipped it into your legal folder, among other more boring and business-y things and you had no idea how it had gotten there. It must have been sometime the day before, as he had written it on a napkin from the catering company.

yjh was here.

In all the many years that he had followed you from place to place, you must have amassed hundreds of his little notes. You kept the ones that he would give you at work tucked away in a desk, often forgetting that they were kept there until you would stumble upon them, tugging a little smile at your face. The rest of them you kept at home in a little box in your closet, even deeper away, never really knowing why. The act of simply having them was satisfaction enough, in fact, you never really minded a little clutter.

☆彡

With eyes drooping, you scratched away on your yellow note pad, writing a string of nonsense words that sounded important from the presentation. The red setting setting sun reminded you that it was your least favorite time of day: the time where the last work hour of the day would appear to stretch into twenty. Under the table your scratchy cotton work-pants felt even more scratchy than usual. Somewhere above you, the penetrating white fluorescents buzzed like flies.

With a little tap on your shoulder, Yoon Jeonghan was sitting next to you as he always was. Compared to him, you felt as if you looked like an utter mess. Just as he was annoyingly good at everything, there was never a day that he came into work looking less than perfection. Today it was a tweed two piece with a pressed shirt underneath as well as a navy tie adorning his beautifully slender neck. Around his face befell his deeply dark strands of hair which pricked the edges of his rounded wire glasses.

“This is so boring.” He had mouthed to you, adding a pout to the end of his sentence.

You formed the sound on your lips, “Shhhhh”

“I’m just saying!”

“Pay attention.”

You turned your head back to pretend to care about what your boss had to say. Every fifteen seconds or so you would nod your head to make it appear as if you were diffusing the information he was giving out.

Another tap on your shoulder and Jeonghan displayed his pen to you to draw your attention to the margin of your quarterly report print out.

you look really beautiful today, he had written

“Stop it!” You accidentally hissed, garnering the attention of your nosy and equally bored coworker sitting across from you.

This time you mouthed out the words, “No I don’t.”

“~yessss~” Jeonghan curled out his words with his tiny creeping smile

Your knee bumped into his under the ginormous desk.

“Pay attention, ‘Han.”

“Is there something you would like to add L/n?” Your supervisor’s voice cracked in the silence of the room.

“N-no sir.” your head bowed in repentance.

He elder man tsked in a little sound with his teeth. “I know that we’re getting to the end of the day folks, but let’s just get through this all so we can get home...”

Jeonghan’s tweed pants made a little screeching sound against the fabric of yours when you bumped him again under the guise of the desk.

“Screw you.”

Your friend met your remark with a wink, biting the cap of his pen while his eyes wandered down to show you another little message:

yjh was here

and I’m excited for tonight

☆彡

Wednesdays were customary somaek nights where each of you and your coworkers would gather in your cruelly tiny apartment with their own separate dishes for all to share and forget about the troubles of the midweek. As the year was winding down, it was these nights that would get you through the week. With the bodies of the five of you in your tiny living room cramped around your low-set table, you had almost forgotten that the heating in there barely worked.

With each of your coworkers entrance, they would bring in the smell of autumn with them, and the chill of the air outside. On each of their long coats, bits of leaves would cling to the edges of the fabric. Each Wednesday there would be a royal mess to clean up after, but it was Jeonghan who would often stay after to help you. The two of you would end up in your cruelly tiny kitchen, throwing soap bubbles at each other’s faces drunkenly with socks sliding all over the wooden floors. Jeonghan would write another note to stick on your refrigerator, then he would take you by the hands to twirl you around to some unbearably cheesy sounding OST.  

Perhaps it was the way that your head would get fuzzy from the soju and beer, but you loved the way that he would twirl you; it was almost like a waking dream.

“Nobody worry! Nobody! Worry!” Soonyoung burst through your door, case of beer in hand. “I’m not late, I’m actually early! Don’t you know that it’s trendy to appear an hour into the party?” When Soonyoung spoke, he had a habit of speaking with his whole chest.

“Took you long enough,” Mingyu whined, popping in another strip of galbi.

“You don’t enjoy our presence, ‘Gyu?” Wonwoo’s mouth upturned into a teasing grin.

“N-no,” The biggest man babbled, “It’s just that...Wednesdays are somaek evenings.”

“--Then I am here to help you out my friend.” Soonyoung plopped himself right down on the floor with the poof of his blond hair popping from his beanie. “Ahhhh this all looks so delicious.”

“You better pay me back.” You griped while serving him a plate of the assortment.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love you, Y/n?”

“Nearly every time I do something for you? You still owe me from the last time we went to karaoke.

“--And for covering for your ass last week...some hangover that was, huh?” Jeonghan scooched over his leftover rice to you.

Soonyoung scoffed while twirling his bottle of soju in the air, the admiring the little tornado swirling inside. “-Was worth it though. We always have fun don’t we?” In his affection, he threw his arms around you and Wonwoo beside him.

“-Food’s gonna get cold.” Wonwoo poked his finger in the general direction.

With his full glass raised in the air after a minute of preparation, Soonyoung lead you all in a toast, cheeks already rosy. The second that your glasses collided, liquid came downpouring to the table, but none of you seemed to mind. Before you could bring your drink to your lips, you caught yourself having a moments pause, watching all of your friends before you. If you could have, you wished you could fold up little moments like these as well to put in your drawer to see when you would feel down.

Jeonghan caught your wistful sigh, sending you a wink. In many ways, you knew he must have known your thoughts.

Under the table, his hand brushed up to your crossed knee, letting his hand linger. He let his hand rest there for a moment, as if he was soaking up your essence in the moment. He had never done it before, but his thumb gently rubbed at your knee, and it felt like a waking dream.

☆彡

The night had ticked on, and you and grown more tired than you had expected by pass of the clock hand. As the night would normally progress, drinks would be had, then each of you would take turns updating the others on what you had been doing or working on. All of you would gather advice or support if needed. There had even been times when you would even provide a shoulder for one to cry on, although that didn’t happen most times.

Others, like today, the five of you would simply sit and enjoy each other’s presence with the window slightly cracked open to let the autumnal air cool your burning bodies. Jokes would be cracked every once and a while until yawns would escape your mouths. By then, another joke would be made about how you were all getting to old to be staying up that late.

Jeonghan played with your hair as you had leaned into him, swirling your final glass of soju in your wrist. While you were hot yourself, the heat from his body was still calming, and the way that his chest would rise and fall was a bit like a lullaby.

“I’m falling asleep, we should head out,” Mingyu clapped Wonwoo by the back.

“Another one for the books.” Soonyoung sighed, then rose up with a stretch of his arms, wrinkling up his white button up and loose tie.

“Sweet dreams everyone.” You shift off of your best friend, shuddering a little at the lack of contact, to close the door after them.

“I’m looking forward to next Wednesday!” Soonyoung beams with a little salute, then bows before shuffling away.

“What time is it?” You yawn out the words, rubbing your eyes.

“Too late. We still need to go in tomorrow, remember?”

Dirty dishes clink in your hands as you bring them to your sink. “We really should start doing this on Fridays.”

“I don’t wanna start cleaning just yet, can we stay here for a while?” Jeonghan spreads his arms out, beckoning you to fall back into him. You laugh a little at the motion.

“Why so touchy? We haven’t done this in so many years...I can’t remember the last time...”

You oblige him, nuzzling right up to his chest once more. He smells a bit of the somaek, but mostly of his usual scent: that cheap cologne that you had bought him about a year ago. You had mostly gotten it as a gag gift, but he had worn it every day since.

“Must have been in high school.” His words are long and breathy.

“How come we stopped?”

Jeonghan takes a minute to answer you, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep. Instead, he raises a hand to rub at your arm lightly, just as he had done with your knee.

“Dunno. We got older?”

“What does getting older have to do with it?”

You watch in the silence as his thumb continues to rub over the fabric of your long-sleeved button down.

“--Do you want to play a game?” Jeonghan says at last.

“A game? What do you mean?”

“For fun. I’m trying to find something to do so we don’t have to do the dishes.”

“Okay,” You perk up slightly, still not removing yourself from his encircled arms. “What kind of game?”

“Truth or dare?”

“Psh what are we, back in high school?”

“Seeing what we are doing right now, wouldn’t you say so?” The words escape Jeonghan’s mouth with a growing grin.

You ruffled to top of his head, messing up his perfectly primped hair. “...Fineeee. You going first or me?”

“I’ll go. Truth.” Jeonghan pulled you back into him, settling your back flush with his chest.

“Okay, truth: did you really mean it when you said that you liked Minji’s power suit? I know you thought it looked tacky.”

Jeonghan’s breathy laugh miffed up your hair. “I’ll say anything if it keeps me in the supervisor’s good graces.”

“HA. I knew it.”

“Which do you pick?”

“Mmmm-truth.”

“Not dare? You’re no fun.”

“I said truth!!!”

“Fine, fine.” His slender arms squeezed at your body to situate you better in between his legs. “When was the last time that you brought someone over to your place?”

“Yo-you mean like “brought someone” over?”

“You know what I mean.” In his voice you could nearly see his mischievous smile.

“I’ve told you about all of them so I don’t know why you’re asking. It’s been about a year.”

“A year? Really?”

“--Nope! You don’t get to ask any more questions. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Jeonghan said without a moment’s hesitation.

Your eyes wandered the room for his perfect punishment. “Ah! Take that soy sauce, the one with the wasabi bits in it...and drink it.”

Your friend sighed, but took the tiny cup in his fingers to down it all in one shot. He shivered a little and you could feel his face scrunch up, but he held his reactions back best he could.

“That was such a high school dare. You really haven’t changed.”

“I thought it was funny.”

“Truth or dare Y/n.”

“Truth.”

“Ughhh truth again?”

“ ‘Hannnn--”

“Just say dare! I promise that I’ll go easy on you.”

“Fine then. Dare.”

“I dare you...to take your shirt off.”

“What?!” Your head snapped back to send him your deathly glare. “Are you being serious right now?”

“What? It’s nothing that I haven’t seen? Are you forgetting that we’ve been friends for nearly our whole lives? That and college you were someone who would go to parties and take your shirt off. Remember that?”

“...yes.” You felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Fine then.” In one motion, you pulled your shirt over your head, jumping a little once you felt Jeonghan’s hands help tear it off your arms. You hesitated to lay back, but his arms made a decision before you could, and pulled you back into his chest. Now, it was the skin of his fingers on your bare arms that you were painfully aware of.

“T-truth or dare?” You squeaked out.

“Truth.”

“No fair, you made me do dare!”

“I already did a dare. Truth.”

From the other side of your room, your refrigerator clacked with the sound of ice cubes falling into their tray. On the door, dozens of multi-colored post-it-notes had been suck there with clear tape.

“...Why is it that you’re always writing me those notes? “yjh was here?”“

“Hmm.” He breathed out. “I had a feeling that you might ask me that one.”

“...And?”

“--Because I like to. And...”

Your anticipation hung tangibly in the air. You didn’t quite know it, but you had been waiting for his answer for so many years, you had lost count.

“...And I like seeing them around you. -Reminds me that I’m a part of your life. Kind of like how we exist together. They’re little reminders for you as well...to know that I’m around for you.”

“Jeonghan...” You wouldn’t have expected it, but tears singed the corners of your eyes.

“Truth or dare?” He cooed into your ear.

“D-dare.” Your voice shook, realizations flooding you like rain.

“I dare you to take off your pants. Can you do that?” His voice had dropped, low and gravely.

You nodded your answer, and took to unbuttoning your pants, shimmying them off where you sat on the floor. As soon as your bare legs were exposed, he had found a new place to rest his hands; you never would have guessed for them to be so beautiful-looking there.

“I choose dare.” He breathed onto your bare neck.

“I-I dare you take off our shirt too.” Your face felt furiously warm as you uttered the words and he did exactly as he was told. The sensation of your skin on his skin then sent your head spinning with just how close you had been in that moment, closer than ever before.

Jeonghan’s hands explored your bare legs with a touch as soft as butterfly wings. His light touches sent an aching pain to your sex as it had never felt so needy and neglected.

“Truth or dare my love?”

In an attempt to hide your frustration, you could only form the word, “T-truth?”

“Hmm...truth...” Jeonghan began to kneed into your legs, digging his nails in every so slightly. “Have you ever kept secrets from me?”

“Secrets? Why-why would I, I don’t-mmph-have any secrets to keep from you.”

“I think that’s a lie Y/n.”

Indeed it was a lie. You had kept secrets from him. Two secrets to be exact; one of them being near the precipice for the whole universe to see.

“I’ve kept secrets from you, you know.”

“What?”

“Do you dare me to show you?”

Your anxious breath caught in your lungs, full of confusion but even more excitement. Jeonghan’s hands crept slowly up to your hips.

He repeated, “Do you?”

“Ye-yes. I dare you to show me.” Your eyes had closed feeling his hands draw even farther up your body.

Your best friend surveyed your whole chest with his hands, swirling around as much skin as he could touch. He was careful not to tickle you, but rather give every ounce of your being his careful attention. For a moment, his fingers grazed over your nipples, but went to cradle your neck in his hands. He turned it to the side to expose the beating vein there, and placed the slowest and most tender kiss upon it. From the feeling of his fleeting lips, you whimpered at the sensation.

“Dare.” You managed with a dry mouth. “I dare you to touch me...anywhere you want...please...”

Jeonghan chuckled slightly into your neck. “I just had my turn, but...I’m listening.”

Your entire body keened under his fingertips, writhing messily between his legs. This time, he was careful in touching you nearly everywhere: your chest, your nipples--pinching them slightly--and down your legs, to your inner thighs where he traced up to your underwear, now wetting a little with your arousal.

“Tell me the truth.” He bit into your skin. “Am I one of your secrets?”

Your answer was given to him in the form of you forcefully tearing from his grip to push his legs together so that you could straddle them. The way that his shoulder blades flexed under your firm grip was dizzying. Your eyes fell to his lips: your secret.

“I dare you to kiss me,” You breathed onto them.

“I thought that you’d never ask.”

Jeonghan was smiling as he pulled your lips into his, and he never quite seemed to stop. Every bit of your love for him spilled into his mouth where you found the comfort from him that you had craved for years. You had felt first kisses before, but nothing was quite like this one. With Jeonghan who you had known for so long, you were thrilled to get to know him in this new and different way, and you wanted to absorb every little bit of it: the way he would caress the sides of your face so gently, or the way that he would angle your neck to meet his lips. You would never have guessed to feel so complete with him like this, but it also made all the sense in the world. It was you that he wanted, and you that he wanted to stay next to through all those years. He had never let you go, and you had never let him either.

In between kisses, you found both of yourselves giggling hysterically.

“Are we really doing this right now? Are we...?” You bit a laugh into his lip.

“Yes. I think that we are.” He engulfed you in his grasp. “I’ve wanted to do this for years, Y/n.

Jeonghan scooped you up, moving both of your bodies to the couch where he clinked with his belt buckle to remove his pants. “You really do look beautiful. Everyday. I’m not just saying that.”

You practically clawed at him to lay his body on top of yours, then wrapped your legs around his waist to align him with your own. In your unadulterated intoxication of him, you hopelessly grinded up into him, seeking some kind of stimulation from the mashing of fabric together. After a little scoff, Jeonghan’s hand cascaded down your body to rub at your throbbing sex, marveling in the way that you had soaked though your underwear just a little.

“Wow. This is how you feel about me?”

“Do you want me to say sorry?”

“No--it’s just...I wish that I had known sooner.”

Your lust brought his lips back to yours as you kissed him over and over and over, trying to make up for all of the times that you wished you had done before. His touch on your sensitive skin sent you mewling onto his tongue.

“Can I make you mine now?”

As for your response, your widened legs told him exactly what he needed to know.

In one swift motion, he had tugged off his own briefs, letting free his deliciously hard cock, sparkling at the head with his pre-cum. Looking at him like this, all for you, was like a walking dream.

Jeonghan gathered spit from his tongue to glide over his dick, then teased your impatient entrance while he watched your face contort into the most beautiful shapes he thought he had ever seen. He entered you slowly, letting each of you take in the moment as if you could forget it the next. Once you were together, his brows twitched a little as his closed eyes focused only on you. He filled you up perfectly, as if you were made for him--which you had convinced yourself that you were. Jeonghan buried his face in your neck to suck into the skin, marking you as his.  

Your orgasm built much quicker than you had intended, and soon you were begging him to make you cum--which he gladly did. Your heels dug into his back upon your release which gathered more heat between your two bodies. Jeonghan didn’t skip a beat as he chased his own orgasm, fucking you into your own overstimulation and leaving you to melt under him.

“Jeong-han.” You gasped out his name through your teeth as your body quaked from the snap of his hips.

“oh god,” He uttered, tangling his fingers deep into your hair, then smashing his lips back into yours. “you’re so good for me my love...so good...”

Jeonghan let out little grunts as he came and filled you deeply with the warmth from his cum. As he throbbed within you, you knew it really was him you were made for. He lingered inside your walls as your bodies shook together with the aroma of sex fogging the air. After a while, it didn’t take long for both of you to be laughing contentedly into each other’s mouths once more.

Your best friend reached for your hand to bind all of your fingers to his. "No more secrets.”

☆彡

“Do you want the sweatpants from the top shelf or the rack?” Jeonghan called to you through your cruelly tiny apartment. “Wait...i-is this...?”

Once he had returned, in his hand he held the aged strawberry milk carton with the little cartoon fruit on the side and the scrap piece of paper wrapped around it. In the other was your little box of notes.

yjh was here

“I can’t believe that you’ve kept it this long. Why--”

“--I’ll tell you why...it’s my second secret.”

Your best friend cocked his head. “...Second?”

“Ever since that day, I’ve known, Yoon Jeonghan. I love you.”

☆彡

if you’ve got to this point, hehe hello I’m Ro, I write for skz and svt, and I’d love to write some more svt! If you’d like, you can send me your asks