#Or sacrifices her feelings and hides it away

[knightyoomyoui]

Rather Be

ft. TWICE's Jeongyeon (x Male Reader)

TYPE: Fluff, Angst GENRE: Romance, Drama, Slice Of Life REQUESTED BY: anon who asked for this: "Hi knight-nim, glad that you are back and lookong forward to your fics. Is it possible to request a Jeongyeon slice of life as an idol fluff fic about how she navigates her love life especially during her hiatus era and her comeback and her new youtube shows. I am a sucker for fluff with a tinge of angst and a supportive couple. Thank you." I hope you liked what I made for you and hopefully it reached your expectations!

WORD COUNT: 7083 ADDITIONAL NOTE: This might be one of my favorite fics I've made. I've enjoyed writing this a lot (which is why I exceeded to my 3k word limit) and I think I really went deep onto their personalities here. Probably because most of the dialogues here was like these were all I would like to express to Jeongyeon personally. Love my bias!

DONATE OR REQUEST FOR COMMISSION HERE: https://ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui ===000=== An unexpected and saddening news was released right during the month of October which was TWICE’s 5th anniversary since their debut and the hype as well for the release of their upcoming 2nd full album titled ‘Eyes Wide Open’. It is said on the link that was posted by the agency itself JYP Entertainment that Jeongyeon, one of the members of the said group is suffering both from a severe anxiety attack and a herniated disc injury on her neck. This requires her to be on hiatus for an indefinite period of time, resulting for her to be pulled from the promotions of their album including their live celebration of their anniversary on YouTube.

The conditions were mutually agreed both from JYPE and TWICE, especially to Jeongyeon who is the most affected here. After the announcement was posted, it spreaded through the K-Media articles as well as globally for all of the ONCEs to see. The fans were disheartened from the idea of how Jeongyeon is suffering right now and disappointed of the unfortunate timing it occurred. Without any choice, the fans had to express their thoughtful and caring messages for Jeongyeon’s speedy recovery while others combined it with criticizing the agency for another mistreatment of their idols. Jeongyeon saw everything in the social media.. Despite the heartwarming messages being sent to her by ONCEs, the quivering feeling inside of her cannot be shaken away of what her current unstable state has been caused. Remembering what the doctor have said to her that the primary thing for her to do on beginning her recovery is to keep her distance away from the public and take some time-off she needed for herself. The burden of stress and guilt taking an effect of her led to Jeongyeon deciding that she wants to retreat back on her hometown of Suwon. She informed her sister Seungyeon about this and immediately accepted. However, she mentioned that she’ll be only taking her there and won’t be much in around as she is in a middle of filming a new series, but she promised that she’ll visit from time to time as long as she can monitor how she’s been doing. Touched by her sister’s love for her, she is determined now to depart temporarily from attracting an attention to the flashing cameras, public’s eyes, and the relentless pressure of the industry putting her on.

===OOO===

It’s a 30 minute drive from Seoul to Suwon. Before packing her belongings and drive away with Seungyeon and her recently bought car, she said goodbye to the girls and thanking the staffs including JYP himself for allowing her to take a break, in which it was done with pure intention as they believe everybody deserves to be and nobody should sacrifice their lives for exhaustion. She saw the signage that says she’s near now to her destination, Jeongyeon couldn’t help but to atleast crack a smile for a little, as she couldn’t hide her excitement to relive the nostalgia she had on that place. Now arriving to the province, Seungyeon parked the car to the familiar placed standing still and looking just as great as the last time they left here to pursue the best of their careers. They unloaded her things and approached the house where they were greeted by Yoo’s longtime helper Mrs. Song. She was stunned to see two women who were once little to her eyes, now a fully grown up and looking prettier than ever. “Hi, Mrs. Song.”

“Oh my Jeongyeon and Seungyeon-ah, it’s been a long time since you two went here!” Mrs. Song went to hug them both in which they giggled in response. “Look at you two looking like a grown-up women now, it has been a while isn’t it? Last time we’ve been together, I had to babysit you two and keep your playfulness in control.” All of them laughed at that memory. “We missed you too, Mrs. Song. We apologize if it only had come to this where we have to go back here. It’s busy out there in the city and… it’s an urgent matter.” Mrs. Song nodded, as she understood what Seungyeon is referring, which was their phone call last night. “I get it, and I can’t demand selfishly.” Her expression shifted into a softer one, turning her attention to Jeongyeon who is looking exactly as what she’s expected. “What did they do to you there, hmm? I heard what happened to you, Jeongyeon-ah. Have you’ve been tiring yourself too much on your work?” She held Jeongyeon’s hands which began to tremble. Meeting her eyes, she was shocked and devastated to see her the younger Yoo cry in her grasp.

“Aigoo, they’ve been too harsh on you.” Mrs. Song quickly hugged Jeongyeon into comfort. Seungyeon witnessing this scene tugs her heart and at the same time feeling sorry for her sister. “Don’t worry, I will take care of you here, okay? Enjoy your stay here, forget all of those you left behind for a while. This is about you that you have to be focused on first and they can’t stop you for it. Okay?” Jeongyeon nodded and answered in a muffled sobbing tone. “Yes, ahjussi.” z

“Ssshhh, save your tears, my Jeongie. Let’s take it here inside and continue. Here, let me help you two grab your things to your rooms.” Mrs. Song said as she rubbed Jeongyeon’s back before letting go and went through the luggages. ===OOO=== After an hour of reliving the old memories and catching up the lost times with their beloved helper, Seungyeon regrettably informed her that she has to go now for her schedule. Mrs. Song wished her goodbye and a safe trip back in Seoul while repeating what she advised to her in relation to Jeongyeon’s situation. Seungyeon keep it in mind and hugged Mrs. Song in gratitude. Jeongyeon stepped near at the car and watched her sister enter. Rolling down the window, she peeked at her vulnerable younger sister and aims to set some reminders. “Call me anytime if you need me, okay? Keep me updated on how you’re doing, you know I’ll always be concerned of you, especially mom and dad. Got it?” “Alright.” Jeongyeon nodded. “Have to go now, bye and love you!” “Love you too, noona.” Jeongyeon waved her hand and slightly smiled for her sister as she watched the car start to move and disappear through the distance. Mrs. Song smiled at the interaction of the two from the balcony before calling Jeongyeon. “Jeongyeon-ah, let’s go. I could take some help on the kitchen for our lunch.” “Okay, Mrs. Song!” Jeongyeon responded after rotating her body to face her. She entered the house and locked the gate. ===OOO=== The next day, Jeongyeon began to list down the things she wanted to do, motivated to heal and put herself back together again. Now convinced and contented on her procedure of self-therapy she arranged, she didn’t waste any more time to check them off the list. She started by reconnecting with some old friends in which they welcomed them back with open arms and offered assistance to her especially after what they have learned of her current struggles that brought her back to Suwon. Jeongyeon appreciated it and gladly granted them. She also went to revisit some of the places she has been since she was a child and other places where it was added during the length of time they departed to Seoul. She made sure to capture everything and add it to her gallery to compile once she feel like reminiscing again and see the progress of her hiatus.

She was also joined by Mrs. Song on exploring some new activities to discover and probably consider it to be added on her new hobbies. She was taught on how to paint to canvas, forming a clay pot, baking a cake, gardening and others that will surely gain her peace and relaxation that she craves to have. The past 5 days has been awesome for Jeongyeon. Despite the conflict both on her mental and emotional well-being, she is constantly attempting to fight through all these now that she is encouraged to do so with the continuous addition of everything and everything she loves back into her life. Which now then leads to this one particular moment when she was walking through the seashore in barefoot, wanting to feel the sand along with the splashes of the water and the breeze of cold air hitting her skin, her hair and dress flowing freely through the direction of the wind. Jeongyeon was so focused on viewing the emerging sunset from the sky when she was distracted by an accidental bump to someone. Her body flinched and got alerted at the impact that they both took. Believing that it’s her fault for being too oblivious and clumsy, she checked on the guy who abruptly fixed his camera and wiped it lenses. She noticed that it was a photographer she had just collided with. “I’m really really sorry, mister. I didn’t saw where I was heading towards at, I was looking at the sunset.” She apologized deeply to the guy who is bowing in front of her, still on aiding his camera. “No problem, just try to be careful next time.” The guy said. “But… how about your camera? Is it okay? I can pay for it if-” “No, you don’t need to. It didn’t had any cracks or whatsoever.” He began to straighten his posture after wiping the lenses with his shirt. “I’m really sorry again-” As their eyes met, both Jeongyeon and the guy couldn’t believe what faces they were seeing so closely. Both were in denial, but as further close inspections and such, they have confirmed each that it’s really who they think they actually are.

“J-jeongyeon?!” “Y-YN, right?” They’ve been greeted themselves by another familiar person that they’ve gotten closer with during their time here in Suwon. Jeongyeon and YN are staring at their former high school classmate. However, for YN only; it means more than just that which the latter doesn’t know at all. “W-what are you doing here? When you have been in here?” YN asked Jeongyeon, highly confused. “I’ve been here for 5 days now.” Jeongyeon answered. “I thought you are now in Seoul, like you know… being an idol. Are you for work as well?” “No, I’m not currently active in work right now.” Jeongyeon. “Actually, I just returned here to have a vacation, you know…. Take some time off.” “Ahh… well if that so, well uhh hi. Welcome back and… long time no see isn’t it?” “Yeah… how long it has been?”

“8 years I guess, or maybe more than that.” “That’s pretty damn long indeed.” They both chuckled. “Wow uhh, really I really didn’t expect that you’ll visit here again, seriously.” “Me as well, but I realize that I did needed this to you know…  take a break through everything.” “Why? Is something wrong going out there? Are they not doing well for you?” Jeongyeon remained silent and frowned. YN received the imaginary answer and an idea formed in his mind to create a necessary action to it. Meeting again this woman that made an immense effect to him since back to when they were younger, he don’t want the time to be ruined because of the ongoing suffering she must’ve been containing within herself, simply because of looking back at the numerous times that Jeongyeon made his days complete.

Determined to help her, he spoke cautiously at her. “Would you want someone to talk with and listen to whatever that’s bothering in your mind? Deep talks about life and some stuffs.  I’m available.” Jeongyeon looks at him and agreed to his invitation. “You sure it’ll be fine to you?” “Absolutely, why not? Especially when people needs to have a company to share things they haven’t been able to release. And it seems to be you right now sooo… as a friend, I’m willing to be the one by your side for that. Also, I’m just capturing the shore anyways so I’m not bothered.” “O-okay.”

“Where do you want us to talk? I suggest for us to remain here, Would it be perfect to do it in  a perfect scenery like this?” “Yeah, this would do.”

Jeongyeon and YN sat together in the sand, facing the waters and surrounded by the sound of nature that is effectively providing Jeongyeon the peace she has been searching for. YN lets Jeongyeon initiate to begin their conversation, starting off with detailing how is her life doing rn in Seoul and what happened in the middle of her successful career of being an idol that made her end up in the place where it all began for her.

“So… what brought you here in Suwon? Are you longing for your memories you’ve made here, chasing for solace, or… other than that?” “I’m here to rebuild myself on my own. I mean, I have my personal therapist to aid me but… I want atleast contribute something on the process of healing by myself. To feel that I can somehow… help myself in my own ways and value what I have become for the better.”

“Therapist?”

“I’ve been taking treatments, both physically and psychologically. Well, because of what happened to me. I got an anxiety disorder right when we’re on the road to preparing for our comeback and our group’s anniversary as well.” Jeongyeon’s voice starts to shake, holding her impending emotions.

“Oh god, I’m sorry about that Jeong.” YN became speechless as he watches Jeongyeon making her fragile self in notice in front of him. He couldn’t imagine that she has to reach this stage of her life where she grew to risk her emotional health in shambles to the point that not just a single simplest comfort would be enough for her to recover. “Tell me more about it. Why did you ended up being very anxious and just everything that stirs up inside of you? Were you being pressured in your work?” “Guess you can say so.” Jeongyeon tilted her head, now hugging her knees as she stares at the sea in deep thoughts. “I’ve always regarded myself as the least popular member of TWICE and I get that. It makes me believe that I just don’t do something that interest the fans to like me as much as the rest. Maybe I’m just not that talented or possess a likeable personality unlike my co-members. A boring person, if that’s how I can put it.” “But I admit, just because I believe that I am like that doesn’t mean I just want to be that way and have no any plans to change who I should be. It hurts me still, deep inside I want to prove that i’m not who they think I am, that I know I can still improve and show them that I’m just as the same level and feel like I deserve to be in TWICE.” “So I began to work my ass as much as I could. Every day I would spend my entire day just singing and dancing our choreo for More and More -it’s a song we released this year- in our company. I was so eager to cure this sickness of me always forgetting the choreo and try to find the spots where I think I lack at until… I didn’t think of the consequences anymore. All I wanted is to give what I got that this industry requires me to be.” “Then what happened?” “One day, while I was dancing together with the members, I felt a stinging pain on the back of my neck after we did like a move that requires our head to spin. Since we do numerous takes, we have to do it again and again. I was just so tired at that moment and when I felt that I just neverminded it for a while, but when I got to rest for minutes… and it proceeded to worsen starting on the next morning after I woke up.” “At that moment I just know this will be bad, so I kept it within myself as to not make my members and the staffs worry too much that may disrupt our preparation for the comeback. Thankfully it didn’t, but it started to distract me a lot when we also have to rehearse too for our virtual concert with ONCEs. My neck hurts a lot whenever I move, to the point that I was crying it out when I got to be alone, for no one else to see.” “Until one day, it couldn’t be helped, I was accidentally caught by our eldest member and my bestfriend Nayeon holding my neck. She scolded me when i revealed to her that i’m in so much pain and I’m keeping this to anybody for the sake of our project. Then, she advised me to report it to our company’s medical partners and… it was shown that I have a neck injury called herniated disc. It’s simply a dislocated disc on the weakened part connected to my spine.” “After that, my worries and fears increased about the possibilities of what this may cause my group’s activities and to what I worked hard for. You know, I always have this weird sense that I… can call it if there’s gonna be a trouble.”

“And… it came true?” Jeongyeon nodded, her tears now began to flow in her face. “I was diagnosed with anxiety attack as well when they did checkups on me. They have decided to put me into hiatus in which they had to receive my approval first for consent. As much as I don’t want to, seeing the members suffer more because of how stubborn I am made me surrender for good. I told them okay, and they did the announcement, and yeah, it sucks that i didn’t had to last long for me to promote our new album and join them on the celebration. I was supposed to be there with them today but… it’s just too much for me to handle.” she sobbed harder. “And now I’m here in Suwon to step away from being the center of attention because of condition, I don’t want to distract them too much from our album’s promotion. I listened to what my doctor said, because I couldn’t contain this feeling of of disappointment I just gave to myself and the fans who were still there to support me. I always let them down, YN. I’m trying so hard to forget them, distracting myself or taking my meds but I rather just end up costing me with insomnias at night or have a panic attack. I’m just scared at the thought that maybe I should not perform again due to how insufferable and failure I’ve become.” Jeongyeon continues to pour our her exhaustion and pain from going through all of these challenges she had to encounter in the peak of her career. Her sobs became louder and her body shivers both from the cold temperature and the amount of crying she’s having.

Meanwhile, YN sinks everything that Jeongyeon shared and it ached him imagining how much she sacrificed before her body gave up on her. He just watch Jeongyeon become emotional in pity which immiedately making an impact to him as well. Not only because of her hardships or her being a friend that had to be in that scenario… but especially with the fact that this is woman she loves that he had to learn she was struggling in her life despite being successful.

And he wasn’t there for him to guide and support her in all of these. Snapping back onto reality, he founds himself to be sitting inches close beside to Jeongyeon. He may have not been able to do what he wanted but now that he has the opportunity placed for him at this time, at this very moment, he knows there’s only way to make things right. He’ll be one to pick her up when she’s down. Jeongyeon felt warmth around her body. Opening her eyes, she saw YN embracing him to the side, trying to ease her emotions. She appreciated the gesture and she actually like how gentle and safe it makes her feel. “I know what you feel, Jeongyeon. Afraid that everything you’ve poured a lot of effort and strategies just to ensure that you’ll reach expectations and requirements just so you won’t lose the purpose of what you have. I know because I’ve been there, but the opposite is that I relate because I actually lose what I wanted to have unlike you who already grabbed it.” YN proceeds to share his own story that might motivate Jeongyeon. “You know I always dreamt of becoming a songwriter right? Back when we were in high school you’ve seen me tried to compose or write my own songs and some went well. I just didn’t have like enough equipments to give it more life, only the guitar that my dad has given to me would do the bare minimum.” “Well… unfortunately that dream had to die, after all I’ve done just to prepare myself to enter college with Fine Arts in Music or offer somebody to get my song. Nobody liked it, and coincidentally I happen to look for more money when my father became sick with diabetes. We didn’t had enough money to give him continuous treatment and medicines. I did try to perform everywhere, I do receiving some but still not enough. Then it made me understand it all too well that this may not for me when my mother happens to be granted by my aunt in States a business to build.” “You see that cafe that was closed there? That’s ours by the way.” YN said, pointing at the particular spot. “Really?” “Yeah. I made it official and clear that I have to give up my dreams through the pressure and desperation to make ourselves stable in life and to treat my dad. Fortunately, he’s been keeping up really well these days. Me and my mom are still working hard to run the cafe. So yeah, what I can only say about your side is that don’t let your dream end just because you don’t satisfy and fulfill what the people wants from you. We are bound to make mistakes and we can’t always satisfy ungratefulness. I mean, there’s always a time, just trust the process without any rush. 

And why give up when you’re at the stage of your career where you have it all? It depresses me already to give up something I want to achieve, what’s more for you?  Just because of them? Jeongyeon, those people aren’t your fans if that’s the case. You’ve spent all those years giving everything to the world. If you feel anxious that you agreed to take the hiatus, well damn them because you deserved it. It’s completely okay to give something back to yourself, and if you’ve been giving everything to the world that you weren’t been able to do that, and they still don’t like you for it, then they don’t deserve you. Jeongyeon, the real fans who loves you don’t just wait for you to come back as an idol. They wait for you to comeback as the best version of yourself.”

Jeongyeon couldn’t help but to shed some tears again because of your uplifting words you have in store for her. Your whisper and mellow tone of speaking it close to her ears is make her feel light around your arms. “Your anxiety manifested because of overthinking yourself to enhance your image as a member of TWICE. But… your worth shouldn’t be measure just by how you should perfectly perform on stage. You’re already enough just by being you. I know you want to improve, but don’t let it be driven by criticisms and insecurities. Jeongyeon, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You don’t owe the world often a fantastic performance. We are bound to have our limits, and I suggest that you do what you do because you love it not because people out there expect you to be.”

That concluded YN’s advice for her. Jeongyeon assured that she’ll apply it within herself because she didn’t want to make your well-spoken thoughtfulness be wasted for nothing. She is so overwhelmed that she’s to one you’ve expressing that amount of care you can develop and protect for the people that you’re close with.

Only if she knows the wider aspect of that which urged you to do what has to be done. “Thank you, YN. I am pleased, so much with your kindness.” Jeongyeon mumbled into your shoulder, her soft voice hitting your heart. “It made me miss you a lot.” “I-I missed you too, Jeongyeon. That’s why.” YN almost went stuttering as he blushes intensely at Jeongyeon’s confirming her longing for your presence. Both of them went silent as they enjoy the night with them unbothered that they’re still within each other’s embrace, in their minds motivated to do the right thing that benefits each of them.

===OOO===

Beng a man of his words, YN’s proposal to guide Jeongyeon on rebuilding her confidence and get her back on the right track began the next day. Mrs. Song who learned about the encounter Jeongyeon had to his former classmate and friend and surprised her with the most important and reliable advice she needed right now was happy to see that it made Jeongyeon to look on the positive side. That’s why when she excused herself again to her parents to meet him at the designated place, they didn’t hesitate to do so, for the sake of her happiness.

Jeongyeon went to YN’s cafe and they began chatting, this time about random stuffs about their lives that happened during those years when they separate ways. YN discovered that Jeongyeon is currently learning how to brew different types of coffee, an idea popped in his mind after realizing the perfect timing. He offered Jeongyeon an additional tutorial with him and even a part-time job for her to pass some free time on, in which Jeongyeon who was first shy and shocked at the offer, accepted it afterwards.

Week after week as Jeongyeon’s bond with YN lasts through the journey of her reigniting the joy of reality becoming an idol without the pressure, their friendship deepens into something more. Jeongyeon showcasing her talent and him allowing to play the guitar for her after a long time of quitting suddenly reminds him of why he loved music. He was helping Jeongyeon to become a tough idol to handle the public in reception to her performance, yet it also created a strong effect in his soul to carry that creative passion that he once had for music.

That one night, as YN and Jeongyeon rode a bicycle together after closing the cafe, they were sharing laughters and remarks through their random conversation. As they suddenly brought up those times when they were in high school together, something inside YN made him bravely admitted something that he’s been keeping for very long. Maybe it’s due to the fact he’s trying to sweep aside that Jeongyeon is scheduled to return in 2 days back to Seoul to meet her therapist regularly. “Jeongyeon, can I be honest with you? I… I just thought nobody has even mentioned this to you from one of the people you’ve met during your pre-debut days. Or probably there is but they haven’t got the chance to say it, so I’ll do them the favor.”

“Hmm? Which is what?” “I already knew you’ll be a very famous idol someday.” YN said with a smile. “In fact, I hoped and prayed for this and it happened. I’m even glad that I appeared out of nowhere around of you to see that it did, and… I’m just so happy for you, really.” “Come on YN why are you being like this?” Jeongyeon whined playfully. “I’m about to sleep when I reach home, I don’t want to burn my eyes with tears again.” “Sorry, I just… wanted to release it, you know. I’m taking all the chances tonight and definitely tomorrow before you uh… leave. Again..” His chuckle slowly died in the end. “But thank you for that. You were right, I mean there’s others who have told me that they called it of me becoming a member of TWICE, but that was when they started to root for me since SIXTEEN era. But you… you were the first to do so, and it’s special to me because out of everybody, you were the one from outside my career who truly supported me.” Jeongyeon smiled brightly as the moon displayed above her. “Please do so, what I’m working hard for, it’s also because of you now.”

YN’s chest tightened in joy hearing such sweet dedication from her. “I-I never stopped, that’s why I’m doing this for you too.” “Good, and also I wish you can the same thing for your dream of being a songwriter, YN. Don’t you have anymore desire to do so? I’m not forcing you but there’s still time to-” “Actually about that…” YN paused for a moment as well him paddling the bike. Jeongyeon was perplexed on why you suddenly stopped, her concern of the possibility that she made you mad grew.

“I-is everything o-okay, YN?” “Y-yeah, it’s just…” YN huffed some air before facing Jeongyeon, preparing himself for something. “Uhm there’s last thing that I want to get off my chest, after many years of keeping this a secret to myself.” “I-I’ll be listening. You can talk it to me, YN.” YN took another breather and continued. “Okay. So you do remember that I wrote songs before right? I couldn’t help it, even when we’re at school I always find some time to draft it all.” “Yeah, you’re a full built musician since then, YN. I was just saddened that you decided to give it up. You have so much potential, if I recall correctly i’ve read one of the lyrics and it was so well-written.” “Yeah, and I said that those words all came from my heart. Do you still remember that?” “I am.” She nodded. “Jeongyeon… out of everything I’ve spent my time doing songs, that piece was my proudest work of mine.” You smiled genuinely. “How remarkable was it to made me keep it to myself after all these years whenever I go, just for instances that I have to be ready when I wanted to perform.” “That song was always the one I play the last, saving for the best you know?” 

“I bet the people would applaud you and leave them with their ears blessed and smiles across their face.”

“They are. I have no doubts about it. And I’m glad they love it just much as I am making it for you.” Jeongyeon became silent. Her eyes fixed at YN, she was stunned at the last words you’ve mentioned. Her lips shuddered, prompting to speak in the midst of bewilderment. “YN… that was for me?”

YN pulls out his phone and tugs off its case. At the back, there was a folded paper with ink marks behind it, a hint that has filled with handwriting. You unraveled it, and Jeongyeon saw the familiar outline she complimented years before. “I actually don’t know why I haven’t removed it now that my dream is done. When you left, I began to lose the motivation, it was like a part of it disappeared with you. Then the family stuff followed, I just… ran out of the passion I needed. But now I realized why I still singing it everywhere for years, keeping it with me, giving this crumped sheet of paper a purpose… because there was always a reason why.” “That’s you, Jeongyeon. I may have given up my dream but the love that I used to create my own masterpiece, it never went away.” Jeongyeon’s eyes became watery at your confession. She was oblivious for a long time that while she was wondering if anybody would found her dearly, there was always this one guy who remained faithful and loyal for him. Despite through the unfortunate circumstances and challenge he had to surpass, the value of the love he developed because of her was used not only to continue living his life, but to keep his most cherished talent alive as well. YN endured that for more than a decade, only for Jeongyeon. “I believed in you, I supported you, I did it all just to know how you’ve been doing. Then I heard the news that you were hurt.” “You don’t know how much I wanted to visit you, but I know it won’t be that easy knowing about the industry you are in. That’s why all I did instead is to pray for you to get better, and hope for miracle atleast, that we’ll see each other again.”

“We did.” Jeongyeon smiled through her tears. YN nodded and bowed his head in guilt, he didn’t want to make her emotional again but he sweared that this will be the last. Jeongyeon came out of her bike and stepped forward closer to YN. She lifted her chin to see his bittersweet face. His mood went upside down when he suddenly felt her body wrapped around his. “Don’t be sad about whatever it is, YN. I want you to know that after everything you told me, I became happier and grateful that I got to have you through my difficult process of healing.” Jeongyeon started to sob harder in his shoulder. She felt his large yet tender touch gliding on her back. “I’d be willing to do it always if it’s you.” he replied. “Thank you for holding my hand and reminding me that I’m stronger than I refuse to be.”

Jeongyeon leans away from the hug and stares at him, this time not only with impression but with adoration. The urge complied her to push her head forward and lay a kiss on his cheek, startling him. She smiled sweetly and grinned. “Now that we’re exposing our secrets here, I’ve also started to convince myself that not only you’re good hearted person but… you’re actually good looking too.” “W-what…” “I like you too, YN.” Jeongyeon stated, making his mouth open in amazement. “I know its not as much as you’re expecting me to say but-”

“No, I don’t care. Having you is already enough.” YN nodded and shrugged it off. “I know we can’t rush things, so take every time you got. B-but Jeongyeon, are you sure you want to be with someone like me?” Jeongyeon furrowed her brows as it clicked to her the negative thoughts you were trying to imply. “What? That you’re not as successful like me? That I’m an idol and you’re just a stranger?”

“Yeah, exactly.” “You said it yourself, I don’t care. As long as we learn how to keep supporting each other  without losing ourselves in the process, we’ll be fine. I know it’s a shot in the dark, but I’ll take it. Will you?”

Jeongyeon’s assurance instantly erased all of YN’s mindset of inadequacy and insecurities. “ You gave me a chance, Jeongyeon. Why won’t I do the same?” And they both laughed at their mutual arrangement.

===OOO=== Jeongyeon has finally returned to Seoul. As per the schedule, she met her therapist and examined her through narrating whatever she did during her time off. From revisiting her hometown, staying in her childhood house, meeting loved ones, especially reconnecting with YN. The therapist took all of that in a positive note. Due to this, she made an evaluation that this is an advantage to make her recovery faster and smoother. She learnt other coping mechanisms—meditation, journaling, and understanding her triggers. She made a promise to remain in contact with YN despite being distant again from each other. Jeongyeon can notice how YN’s sweet talking at her is greatly increasing her love for this man. However, it wouldn’t be the same as having his presence being around her, that’s why it causes her discomfort everyday not seeing him physically when she’s alone in her place.

Months later, Jeongyeon made her surprise appearance at the 2021 Seoul Music Awards to join her fellow members of TWICE to receive their awards. It became the headline of numerous articles and became trending all over social media. Not only did the fans and the K-Pop community acknowledged the return of the idol, but also to her new appearance. She was touched at all the welcome backs she received, but she also can’t dodge the toxic comments about her new look from toxic bodyshamers who most of them just simply hate TWICE and had the opportunity to find something to bash her on. Her return resulted to a mixed emotions for her, but she tried to be composed. She just turned her attention more on being with her group, with her family, her therapist, and YN.

Returning to vocal and dance training after months of rest feels harder than she imagined. Her stamina isn't what it used to be, and self-doubt creeps in. She tried to mask it in during their promotions for Alcohol-Free, until a clip from her fancam was leaked spotting her wincing in pain whenever she dances that requires head movement made her wondering if she’s still not truly back as what it seems to be. A candid moment with YN reminds her that her artistry is about authenticity, not perfection. She tried to live up to it, but the desperation ran wild inside of her to the point that she’s starting to forget it again. It then went blank when she requested at their choreographer to teach her for almost an entire day just to execute the choreo of Perfect World well. Her struggle triggered her anxiety and panic disorder again, causing her to take another hiatus in August 2021. She couldn’t take it anymore, she then requested for her manager and driver to pick up YN from Suwon. As he finally arrived to her location, her longing for his company activated, hugging him tightly and tears burst out of her tired eyes.

“You’ll get through it, Jeongyeon. I won’t go away, I’ll be here for you.”

“You better be. I thought I could manage to stand up for myself.” She muttered. “But I got lost again.” “It’ll be okay. I’ll make sure you will be prepared as much as you need to be. Learn to disregard the unnecessary, Jeongyeon. What matters is what holds importance to you.”

===OOO=== Through YN’s stronger guidance, Jeongyeon became steady at her pace again. Her appearances on their 1st English Single “The Feels” made a lot of positive reception both for her and the company, stating that it’s impressive and respectful on both side agreeing for the sake of making the vibe of their comeback “complete” without causing any harm, especially to Jeongyeon’s current state. The girls including the staffs met YN and learned about their relationship, in which they both shared their decision to keep their relationship private. The were still grateful for their support and wished them to stay strong together. Luckily, after almost a year of recovery, Jeongyeon was then cleared by her therapist to return full-time as an idol starting with the title track of their 3rd Full Album, “Scientist”, in which YN attended on every music shows and fanmeets to support Jeongyeon for the first time. More comeback eras have passed, Jeongyeon remained on doing well as she took things slow and focused on a healthier schedule that was granted to him by her company after standing up for herself, a demand that she’ll do everything on her own terms now with their group projects as well as her doing solo. She had photoshoots, a cover, and even hosting her first YouTube series.

Last year, Jeongyeon made a comeback of writing a song called “Bloom” for their mini-album “With YOU-th”, which was inspired by her experiences with YN when they reunited at Suwon. She felt proud and overwhelmed at the highly positive reactions from ONCEs, with others claiming it as their personal best track in the album. While scrolling on her tablet, she came across of a post by a ONCE featuring a beauty appreciation of her. She saw the comments of the said post, and again the inevitable, she came across some negative comments about her weight gain. She was about to be sad hen she heard the bathroom door open, revealing YN in a freshly new bath. She blushed at the sight of your manly figure but her heart moved in euphoria when she was flashed by his smile.

“You busy?” She looked back again at the screen of her device, but unspokably, her eyes went towards the comments of her fans defending her. A smirk crept up on her lips before shutting off her tablet. “Nope. Why?” “I just wanted to talk to you, I didn’t want to disturb you onto something.” “How thoughtful of you.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. YN joined her on the bed, sitting on the edge as she faced her. “I wanted to say thank you. For bringing me here to Seoul for a new beginning, the help you gave to my mom on our cafe, and… what we have right now.” he holds her hand and cuddled it on his cheek. “I made a promise, I might as well fulfill it, especially because it’s for you.” Jeongyeon said. “Take it as a return for everything you did for me… and also, I can’t let us be apart again.” She locked his hand stacked against hers. “I’m never going anywhere this time. There’s no place I would rather be if I’m not with you, Jeongyeon. I love you.” “I love you too.” After they shared a passionate kiss and another quick one on her forehead, YN excused himself to buy dinner while Jeongyeon reopened her gadget, switching back onto the Notes app she was typing at before she took a short break while scrolling through X. She reviewed again his part and her unfinished part on the song you and her will both collaborate to write for the first time, as well as now both being a songwriter and an artist for JYPE respectively.

===END===

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

"I'm just happy that James and Lily are finally together because they deserve it and I love them both"

And that was Remus. The poet that would find the beauty in insignificant things. The kid that believed in happy endings and true love. The kind of person to be happy just because others were happy. How gorgeous was that?

The way he was smiling now made Sirius shiver. But maybe it was because he was dizzy of too much smoke.

Smoking with Remus was his new favorite thing. Not because he wanted to be cool or he actually enjoyed cigarettes. It was because of Remus. A million times Remus.

Because he got to be close to him. Because it was something intimate between them. Because Remus spoke and told Sirius things and he laughed only for him. And Remus was beautiful when he laughed.

"I love James" Sirius declared, taking a drag of his cigarette.

It was easy to love James. It was wrecking to love Remus.

"And Lily?"

Sirius shrugged, making an 'eh' sound.

Remus smiled and shook his head.

Sirius was the idiot that made Remus smile. It had always been like that. Like a bufoon making his prince laugh of how silly he was. Because the prince would never fall for the bufoon.

"I just think that James deserves the best"

"And Lily is not the best?"

Sirius let out some smoke into the night sky.

"Maybe the perfect match for him is somewhere else. Out there. James is just obsessed with Evans"

Remus shook his head "I don't think so"

Sirius looked at him expecting an explanation "Why?"

Remus bit his lip, so deliciously "Because if he's meant for someone else, he would have been over her a long time ago. His heart keeps circulating back to Lily. Over and over. They keep coming back to each other. Over and over"

How did Remus always manage to say smart things and all that came out of Sirius’s mouth was bollocks?

And Remus took a drag of his cigarette in thought. Sirius wished for a second that he was thinking about their similar story. Back to each other. Over and over. And Sirius’s heart still felt the same. It hadn't stop beating for Remus. Never.

"That's ridiculous" Sirius said because, see? He was a scared idiot who said bollocks "Evans just tosses him around like a toy and James is a masochistic who lets her. One day, yes. Another day: 'I hate you'"

Remus's eyes fixed on Sirius. That kind of look that made Sirius feel naked in front of him.

"I know the feeling" Remus whispered mostly to himself, finally looking away.

"What?"

And Sirius was aware of how Remus blushed. The shade of pink that blended well with his freckles. Sirius wanted to be able to count them all and know them by heart.

"You just don't know the feeling, Sirius" Remus cleared his throat "You've never been in love"

Sirius almost laughed. Because the feeling he had always had for Remus couldn't be anything but love. He would sacrifice himself for him. He would go to the end of the world for him.

"And you do, Moons?" Sirius asked trying to hide away his hope.

Remus was quiet for a while, he smiled to himself and spoke : "No... I just read many romance novels"

Sirius giggled. His little nerdy Moony.

"They are very descriptive about feelings and such"

Sirius tucked his head to the side. "Is fiction"

Remus shook his head.

"You are an idiot"

As long as Sirius was his idiot.

"Love?" Sirius scoffed "We are too young for that. We are meant to enjoy life and have fun" he opened his arms to emphasize "Then when we are like thirty or so we will worry about spouses and stuff like love"

He said that because 1) it was his facade, always had been. The idiot womanizer who was too cool to fall in love, and 2) Because it was true. And he wanted as much time with Remus he got before he found someone to settle in. A nice partner that would make him happy.

Sirius’s heart ached at the thought.

Sirius would end up alone. Because nobody would ever stand him. Not truly.

Remus eyes moved around Sirius thinking about what he was saying. He chuckled at the end and shook his head again.

Because Sirius was the bufoon.

"You're an idiot, Pads"

As long as he said it affectionately like that.

Sirius grinned "And you know what is my idea of fun right now?" he raised an eyebrow.

Remus swallowed.

"What can that be?" he smiled.

Sirius scooped closer. He saw Remus's chest breathing rapidly. His cheeks went more pink and his lips parted.

God he loved provoking that on Remus.

Although that was Sirius provoked in people. Desire. He knew he was good looking because of his family's rotten but gorgeous genes.

However that's all that people saw in him. A handsome boy.

And Remus was gay, so he naturally reacted. He closed his eyes waiting for the kiss.

But Remus was not in love with him. Nobody was actually prepared for the train wreck Sirius was.

The second his lips touched Remus, Sirius was doomed. He was intoxicated. He wanted to bury himself onto Remus. Melt with him. Be his and be wrecked by him. Over and over.

Fuck, Sirius was selfish. And he knew Remus didn't feel the same. And he knew someday he would want more than kissing his best friend. And Sirius shouldn't be getting more and more attached.

But he was selfish.

He kissed Remus and tried to pretend he wasn't getting weak in the knees with the mere touch on the lips. And he pretended he didn't saw stars when Remus opened his mouth for him.

And he pretended his brain wasn't whispering: "Mine, mine, mine, mine" and "Moony, Moony, Moony, Moony"

Over and over again.

[masked-alien-lesbian]

Our Summer Crush MC and LI

Tori and Rhea

[orchideae]

1) Opens up drafts with my head empty, ready to be flooded, not knowing where I'll go. 2) 30 seconds later: Okay but I will go feral any day of my life over Perilous Trail, and the fierce dichotomy of Xiao and Yelan. While they're far from being 'the same', they both view themselves as soldiers in one way or another (it's a very difficult word to use for Yelan, so I'm using it very liberally and very loosely), they have both suffered losses on the 'battlefield' and carry the burden thereof in their own ways. And yet they stand so firmly in opposition throughout the entirety of that questline up until the very end of the 'the end of the line' conclusion of the quest. Yes, I know that she offers him her gratitude in its aftermath and it is genuine, but she still never agrees with him and the decision that he made moments earlier. It simply 'worked out' because of Zhongli's interference, he's the only reason it worked out. And it's because of that, that she doesn't give him a hell of a hard time (obviously she can't go down there, but imagine the inner frustration of severe extents; when you condemn someone who you can't even see anymore). In the same way that she would do to anyone who would sacrifice themselves for others, but in this case, I think it's 'beautiful' that it's to Xiao; the one who seems most adamant to do so (which honestly, fits into the contract that the Yakshas chose to sign with Morax; 'the ultimate sacrifice' to protect for Liyue; 'for Liyue', and Liyue has always centered itself around its people), the one who everyone reveres (and so does she, as she notes in her voiceline, 'if I ever have the honor to fight alongside') and respects for good reason, she stands against him, because in that moment, regardless of his status, he makes a call that she considers wrong. And he doesn't even... fight her on it very fiercely, and that's what actually hurts me the most, it's as if the following line hit the nail directly on the head?

"Besides, if you were really so determined to end it all, you wouldn't have given us the opportunity to share our opinions."

[nereidprinc3ss]

no sweeter innocence (than our gentle sin)

in which spencer reid is gentle with overwhelmed fem!reader after sex

18+ (fluff, implied intimacy) warnings/tags: it's just aftercare, but like psychological aftercare, implied intimacy duh, vague descriptions of sex but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort without the hurt, allusions to postcoital dysphoria, reader cries but its not really sad, spencer reid is so kind i wish men were real, i think that is all a/n: guess who wrote an entirely different thing instead of touching her wips..... AGAIN...... this bitch cant do anything omggg!! but this was based on a request so go me also what a strange time to be posting but it's only 1k words and nobody can stop me

“Hey. Are you with me, angel?”

You blink your eyes open in the dark room—reorienting yourself to the tangle of your bodies. How many minutes has it been?

“Hm?”

He chuckles—a quick huff from his nose as he brings a hand up to push hair from your face. 

“I asked you if you’re with me.”

It takes you a moment to answer. You’re still trying to make sense of where you are in space, each sensation coming back to you one by one—the weight and pressure of him against you, the slip of cotton sheets and a cool breeze from the cracked window over your heated sticky skin. 

“Oh.”

It’s not much of an answer and your voice is small. For a moment he lets it sit, cupping your warm cheek. Your eyes flutter shut again. His voice comes gentler, dipped in concern. 

“You okay?”

This time you don’t try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping he’ll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until you’re sure you won’t float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately. 

“Can you answer me?” He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position. And then, a moment later— “Baby. I wanna hear your voice.”

“Mhm,” you manage. 

Spencer rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry. 

“Wasn’t too much? You’re not hurting anywhere?”

You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you can’t seem to get him close enough. 

“Mm-mm.”

It’s not entirely true—your legs are sore, but it’s nothing that needs tending to, and your lower back is a bit crampy, but he’s already working on that. 

He hums. “You’re pretty out of it, sweet girl. What’s going on with you?”

Spencer is always careful with you. He’d never hurt you, or sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure. That said, he’s just as passionate as you are. The stretch of your arms above your head is still fresh in your mind—the ghost of his grip, pressing your wrists into the mattress, or pushing your leg up, or pulling you exactly where he wanted you by the hips. It’s all wonderful, and you never feel safer than you do when you’re with him, but it doesn’t make you feel any less vulnerable, any less raw, after all is said and done. Maybe it’s precisely because you trust him so much that you’re so sensitive afterward. But he never, ever makes you feel bad for having an intense reaction to an intense experience. He always meets you where you’re at. That in itself makes you emotional. Spencer is different than any of the partners you’d had before. 

Again, he’s patient as you try to process his question and work up a response. Maybe a minute later, you’re breathing out something that feels true. 

“Overwhelmed.”

The word is a tap against glass you didn’t know was there until it’s fracturing like a spiderweb. With no warning, and for no good reason, you find yourself choked up. 

“Oh,” he says, sympathetic and drawn out as understanding sets in. “Do you need me to back off for a minute?”

You squeeze him even fiercer and shake your head, unable to stop the tears from drawing their shiny paths down your cheeks and sinking into the weave of the pillow case. 

“Shh. You’re okay,” he murmurs, quiet and slow and almost sing-songy as he smooths your hair, though you know he doesn’t really expect you to stop crying. “You’re okay, pretty. Remember what I said about all the hormonal shifts in your body after you come?”

Once more you nod against him with a small, shuddering sniffle. 

“And how sometimes your body regulates by crying? Kind of like a… a reset button?”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm.” He shifts from rubbing your back to tracing light lines in shapeless patterns with the blunt edges of his nails, and your breath catches before you’re melting in his hold. “It’s okay to have big or confusing feelings after sex. It’s actually really common. I just want you to be honest with me about those feelings, right? So we can keep you safe?”

“Right.”

“Would you tell me if you were hurting, or if something I did or said was bothering you?”

“Yes.”

If you were looking at him you know he’d be smiling ever so slightly at your monosyllabic responses, charting an upward path with his hand and pushing it through your hair at the nape of your neck. “You can just nod, baby. You don’t have to talk. I know you’re tired.”

You make a small noise of gratitude and nuzzle closer, feeling better as the tears slow, quickly as they’d come. 

“Do you want a bath in a little while?”

Another nod. He scratches at your scalp. “Okay. We’ll do a bath, and then dinner, and then I’m finally going to make you watch that documentary about Helvetica. It’s a little outdated, and there are a few basic errors about the origin and development of the font as well as misinformation about the typeface subgroup in general, but I can amend those as we watch and afterward we can read the director’s tenth anniversary statement. I was waiting to read it until we watched it together.”

Spencer knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll fall asleep ten minutes in, curled up on the couch under a blanket in your biggest hoodie with your head on his lap and his hand in your hair, just like this. 

He’s actually really looking forward to it.

[yuujispinkhair]

Tribe leader/Viking Sukuna headcanons

After seeing this fanart, a sweet anon sent me this prompt: "Imagine that you are a simple girl in another tribe who attracted the leader Sukuna who at that moment came to negotiate with the leader of your tribe, he became interested in you and decided to make you his wife and cooperate with your people. So you left with him and began to live with him and give birth to his heirs."

Thank you so much for sending me this! When I saw the art, I was thinking of something along those lines, too! The picture reminded me of the tv show Vikings, so the following headcanons take place in that time.

Pairing: Viking!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Smut + fluff Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, arranged/forced marriage, virginity loss, blood, breeding, pregnancy, slight lactation kink, having children, miscarriage (Sukuna comforts reader afterwards. He doesn't just want her because of the heirs she can give him), general mentions of violence and human sacrifices. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

There is art now for this fic by the lovely @sweetlandspos! Thank you so much Émilie, for bringing Viking!Sukuna to life! He's so beautiful!

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared for his ruthlessness in battle and his strength that seems almost god-like. All the other tribes try to stay on his good side and forge alliances with him instead of giving him a reason to burn down their towns.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who looks so intimidating when he comes to visit your settlement. Tall and broad-shouldered with all those buff muscles on display and the bones of his enemies decorating his clothes.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you can't take your eyes off when you and the rest of your tribe gather in your leader's throne room and watch the negotiations. He sends shivers down your spine, but not just in a fear-inducing way, if you are honest. He is so enticing. Powerful and intelligent, and so attractive.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a beautiful man. His face is too pretty for a warrior. Not even his scars and tribal tattoos can hide his beauty. A smug smirk lifts the corners of his lips, and his voice is calm and confident. He moves gracefully like a big cat, beautiful but deadly. He is the most stunning man you have ever seen, and you hang on every word that falls from his lips as if he carries ancient magic in his voice.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose icy blue eyes scan the crowd slowly, glittering like two precious jewels in the firelight illuminating the crowded room. Your breath catches in your throat when that intense gaze lands on you. You feel like a small animal trapped in the gaze of its hunter. Should you lower your head to show him your respect? Or will he take affront if you dare to look at anything else but him?

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes the decision away from you when he smirks at you and laughs softly before he turns his attention back to your leader.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who announces his conditions for a peace treaty in a confident, demanding tone. The voice of a man who is used to getting what he wants. A man who knows he is too powerful to get turned down.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who suddenly points a long tattoed finger at you and speaks the words that will flip your whole world upside down, "And I want her."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your heart drop with his demand, but all you can do is stare at him in a mix of fear and excitement. A murmur runs through the crowd, and already, several hands are pressing against your back, shoving you towards Sukuna, making you stumble and screech as you are about to fall at his feet.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who catches you before you hit the ground, his muscular arms holding you easily, an amused smirk lighting up his handsome face, light blue eyes glittering in amusement as he drawls teasingly, "Aww, someone's eager to become my little wife, huh?"

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you sit on his lap that evening when a big feast is held in his honor and to seal the peace treaty with your tribe. You barely dare breathe, full of fear as you sit on his strong, muscled thighs, gasping when one of his large hands wanders under your skirt to squeeze your thigh possessively.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has two of his men stand guard in front of your door so no one will attack his future wife or maybe to prevent you from sneaking away. But you aren't even sure you want to run from him. Who are you here in your current tribe anyway? Just another orphan who grew up to help on one of the farms. Isn't this new role much more important? To be the bride of Ryomen Sukuna? To be a means that allows your tribe to prosper and ensures peace and trade with Sukuna?

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large hand has a firm, unrelenting grip on your arm as he leads you to his horse the next morning. But he lets you say goodbye to all your loved ones, taking their blessings and well wishes with you before your future husband helps you onto his horse.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a rough man, but whose hands are surprisingly gentle when he lifts you onto the back of his giant horse. He sits behind you, his firm muscles pressing against your back, rippling with every move he makes. His muscular buff arms cage you in, keeping you captive or keeping you safe. You can't tell which one of the two it is.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes a conflict rage in your chest. On the one hand, you are scared of this dangerous big man who has the power to just demand to have you as if you are some cattle. On the other hand, you can't deny that small hidden part of you that feels excited that such a powerful and attractive man desires you enough to want to make you his wife.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your pulse flutter nervously when you feel his strong arms around you and hear him order his men around with his low, velvety voice, telling them to find a good resting place for the night.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses you roughly on that first night. His large hands that cup your face are calloused, but his lips are warm, and his tongue is soft and so skilled when he pries your mouth open and licks into it. It's nothing like the shy, clumsy kisses you shared with the boys in your settlement. Sukuna is a feared warrior, a powerful tribe leader, someone who people believe is actually the son of a god. And you can feel all that in his kiss. Deep and intense, making your head spin and your body brim with a desire you have never felt before.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rides with you again the next day and trails teasing kisses down your neck to pass the time during the long ride. You are sure he is fully aware of what he is doing to you. How he makes your heart race and makes a mix of fear and arousal throb in your veins. Especially when he grabs your chin to tilt your face up and capture your lips in a heated, wet kiss, licking unashamedly into your mouth in front of his men, showing everyone that you are his.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who whispers in your ear, "Are you scared of me, my little wife?" and then breaks out in loud, barking laughter when you exhale shakily and tell him, "Only a fool wouldn't be scared of you... but maybe I am also flattered that you picked me, my lord."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who still chuckles while his tongue licks a lazy stripe up the side of your neck, and he huskily tells you, "I am not a lord. I am a god. And I saw a goddess right there in that shabby throne room. I had to take you with me. It was a sign from the gods. You will give me such strong and beautiful children. Together, we can conquer the whole world."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who forces himself to keep his hands off you before your wedding night as a show of respect to the gods, but who lets you feel his desire for you when he hugs you from behind and presses his hardness against you once you have moved into his house.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has you dressed in the finest garments for your wedding day. A beautiful red dress lined with gorgeous white ermine fur that was specifically made for you. Your neck, wrists, and ears are decorated with glittering gold and precious gemstones.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you squeal when he swoops you up into his muscular arms and carries you into the ceremony hall, accompanied by the loud cheers of his people. Your hand is shaking when you exchange wedding rings with him, but you stay brave, speaking your vows and taking Sukuna's heavy sword when he offers it to you as his promise to protect you.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who sacrifices several of his enemies to the gods to ask for their blessings for your marriage and your fertility. He looks scary with the pattern painted onto his face with fresh blood. But at the same time, it makes him look feral in a way that makes an unknown heat throb between your legs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shares his food and mead with you on the decadent feast held after the wedding ceremony, where you sit on the throne next to his. One of his strong arms stays wrapped around your waist the whole evening, and the deep glances he sends your way make your skin tingle with anticipation.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes your virginity that night, making you cry out in pain when his thick cock splits you open for the first time. But his lips silence your cry, and soon you make other noises. Loud moans of pleasure fall from your lips as your new husband moves inside you with deep and sure thrusts that hit a spot inside you that makes you scratch the broad muscles of his back and arch up against Sukuna's huge body. Your cunt throbs around his cock as you find the sweetest and most intense release you ever had.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who afterward pushes two of his long fingers into your used cunt to push his seed back into you, leaning down to kiss you savagely and murmuring in your ear that he wants to see your belly hard and swollen with his heirs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who paints his clan symbols on your face with a mix of your virginal blood and his cum, telling you that you are his forever and that you are blessed by the gods now too after taking his seed into you.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is so proud when you show the first signs of pregnancy.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who becomes extremely protective and possessive now that you carry his heir. Who worships your body every night, cupping and kissing your swollen breasts, licking at the drops of milk that already spill from them, telling you it tastes like the nectar of the gods.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large rough hands caress your swollen belly gently, who kisses it, and talks to your unborn child, telling his son, as he predicts, that he will be born under the blessing of the gods. That he will become a great leader and a god himself one day.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is triumphant when your first child is a boy with pink hair and a strong build and loud voice. A future leader just like his father. The first heir of many more to follow.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared by everyone but treats his wife and newborn child with a gentleness that surprises you. He asks you to let him hold your baby and carry him in his strong arms. And the way Sukuna looks at your child tells you that he doesn't just see little Yuuji as an heir but as someone who has Sukuna's heart.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose hungry and proud gaze follows you for days until he has you under him again, fucking you with hard, deep thrusts, moaning loudly, and pumping you full of his seed over and over again. "You gave me such a strong heir, my love. I know you'll give me so many more."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rushes to your side when you have a miscarriage during your second pregnancy. Who hugs you to his broad chest, wipes the sweat and blood off you, and cradles you in his arms.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses your tears away and reassures you when you are scared he will kick you out if you won't give him more heirs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shakes his head and tells you, "I mourn our unborn child, but I thank the gods for not taking my beloved wife away from me too. You are more to me than just a vessel that gives birth to my heirs. You are my wife, my companion, the one who the gods sent to me as my soulmate. I love you. Even if we have no more children, I will never take a new wife."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you see in a new light after the reassurance and love he gave you on that day. And suddenly, you find yourself falling in love with your husband, too. You treat him more tenderly. You caress his soft hair when the two of you cuddle in your bed to keep each other warm. You kiss the tattoos on his face and smile at him, your heart fluttering when Sukuna smiles back at you and pulls you into a slow, tender kiss. You will never forget the happiness in his eyes when you tell him you love him too.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who fucks you thoroughly that night until the two of you are sweating and rolling around on top of the warm furs, kissing and caressing each other needily while he fills you with his hot seed until you are overflowing from it.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is delighted when you give birth to your second child, and that child looks like the perfect mix of the two of you. He grins at you and tells you that this is clearly a child of love, conceived on the night you confessed your love to him.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is actually a caring husband who truly treasures you. Who likes to spend his nights with you wrapped under the warm furs, making slow love while he kisses you deeply, rolling his hips with those slow, languid moves that make you sob his name and come undone so sweetly on his cock. 

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who likes to hold you in his strong arms afterward, with your head resting on his broad chest and your small fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest and abs. He loves to talk to you for hours every night, telling you all about his day, about his current worries and plans, about political things and battle tactics, trusting you with all his secrets.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose love fills you with warmth even on the coldest winter days. Your heart is held securely in his strong hands. And you know that no one will dare lay a hand on you or your children in fear of Sukuna's wrath. His strength and power make you feel safe here in your new home.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who teaches you how to enjoy sex to the fullest. Who teaches you how to ride his cock and his face. Who teaches you how to take from him too. Because he is your husband, and that means he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who trusts you with ruling in his place during his absence. Who declares that anyone who disrespects you will get sacrificed to the gods.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who keeps you on his thick, strong cock all night before he has to leave for one of his various exploration trips or battles, savoring you to the fullest. Making sure to fuck you so good that you will still feel him for days after he set sail.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who pulls you into his arms one last time before he boards the ship, kissing you deep and long. And there is this burning love in his blue gaze when he tells you, "I will do anything in my power to come back to you, my love. I have the gods on my side. But if, for whatever reason, they should decide it is my time to enter Valhalla, then I want you to know that I will wait there until you join the afterlife, too, and I will come find you, no matter where you are."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who luckily doesn't go to Valhalla and always comes back to you with more scars on his gorgeous body but with the same love in his eyes.

AAAHHH I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! This became much longer than I intended, but I really miss the show Vikings, and I love Viking!Sukuna to an insane amount, so it is what it is ;) This was, once again, very self-indulgent, but hopefully, some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it too! Thank you so much to the nice anon who sent me that prompt!

Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[vifilms]

KNUCKLE VELVET, TORN ON MY TEETH

❝ VI!ONE SHOT ❞

pairing. pitfighter!vi x bartender!reader

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: arcane season two spoilers, soft angst, smut, bartender!reader, crashout!vi mends her cold heart, inexperienced!vi, switch!reader + vi, fem coded reader, coded alcohol addiction, slight spit kink, strap use.

KNUCKLE VELVET TORN ON MY TEETH, there's something charming about the pitfighter who doesn't stop drinking until she reaches the bottom of the barrel and the bartender who keeps walking her home.

wc. 7k+

rayray yaps. popping my vi!oneshot cherry, hehe, and i'm happy to do so. the vi brainrot has been real as fuck lately. i fear it's not going away anytime soon. but i wanted to give a special shoutout to @hypnagogics for proofreading this fic, means sm to me ily + my sweet bubba, @absfawn for the title name, i could kiss you until my lips fall off. the best people ever, i love them so much. okay, now i have yapped enough! happy reading, hope you enjoy.

Trapped in the abyss, just when everything had been taken from her life seems to sacrifice another offering on a silver platter. Something else that she thought could be hers, but wasn’t. In the end, all of it was the same. Life is the same. She takes three steps forward, circumstances out of her control take her apart like enforcers imposing their will on Zaun, and she’s forced to move five steps back. It’s all she feels, powerless. 

Wanting nothing more than to drown her sorrows, forget all that she's lost. For everything that’s been taken, Vi feels an overpowering loss, threatening to take over everything she’s trying to build. But Vi thinks of none of it now, she can’t afford to think of one more thing. So, she doesn’t. All of her mind forgets. She forces herself to. 

Zaun, Piltover, Jinx, Vander, Silco, and Cait. 

She drowns in blood, sweat, and liquor for nights to come. She forgets everything and you are just the cherry top on this one shitty sundae. Anytime she’s here, Vi manages to get herself into a fight. Each time. Every time she tries to apologize or hold an ounce of guilt in her eyes, you see right through her crystal blues. From the very first night, you called her bullshit. Even if Vi didn’t give in, it was hard to hide her small smirk. 

She lets herself think it’s because you’re a bartender. You practically get paid to read people, listen to them vent about shit you probably don’t give two shits about and break up the fights that erupt every thirty minutes. Overinflated egos and drunken assholes weren’t a great mix. The jury was still out if you though Vi was one. She could have both, she didn’t really talk much. Vi fought, drank until she couldn’t see straight, and you helped her up to her small apartment right across the street and up the steps into her said apartment. 

No matter how hard she tries, it always ends the same. Vi looking like an imbecile and you, the pretty bartender who shuts down every advance she throws your way. Vi wonders who had a stronger shell, what you’re hiding in order to protect yourself. 

Maybe she is just an asshole. 

“You don’t have to walk me up here. I-I can make it just fine on my own.” 

As soon as your fingertips let go of her fragile frame, Vi’s inebriated body collapses on the concrete steps, grabbing onto the metal framing as if her life depends on it. 

“Really? Now you wanna prove a point?” 

“For your information, I’m always in it to prove a point.” 

Even if your words are harsh, with a soft smile and a hand open, Vi takes it as you let her lean on your weight as you assist her up the steps. There’s little shame to be had once the two of you make it in. It isn’t like the first time and when she noticed the scrunch of your nose in taking the smell, tequila and grease. Vi thought it was cute but she halts any further thought. 

Quickly, Vi disposed of her leather jacket and pants she’s left in boxers and the wrap protecting her chest. The part of her life that seems to be kept together. She doesn’t really mind it though, you. Seeing her like this. Even more so, she enjoys it. You’re always so dismissive at the bar, hardly holding eye contact, turning down any flirting she hurls your way. Just like the vomit Vi had nearly thrown up on your shoes but made a quick diversion for the bush to the right of her instead. 

This is truly the only time she knows you want her. Not so subtly, your eyes trace her like each pinpoint of your gaze is painting her on a clean canvas, one Vi wonders if she’ll like or not. When she’s been around you, she’s been wondering about a lot of things — thoughts she quite literally can’t afford. 

It’s her, nothing ever ends well when her feelings can get crushed on the other side. 

Everything she touches burns to ash before she can even hold it for a moment, a second of symphony retaliates with years of misery. How could you be any different? She wishes you would burn her underneath your gaze, put her out of the misery she feels growing every day, but you don’t. You’re always pulling her out of trouble when you truly don’t have to. It’s not your job to take care of her or hell, even look after her. 

But you do and she can’t seem to figure out why. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Just shut the fuck up and let me help you. Not everyone has a motive. Some people just like to help when someone is so clearly struggling.” 

“I’m not—” 

You give her a glare that seems to shut her up. You draw a bath for her. It’s easy to find her towels in the only cabinet. It’s an acute studio apartment. More so of a small room with a stove stop, minimal counter space, and one bathroom enough to bathe and brush her teeth in. There isn’t much left of it but it’s hers. Grabbing the first aid kit, you kneel between her legs, the mattress sits on the floor, her legs spread and stretching out in front of you. 

“Let me help you. Alright?” Vi grumbles, a incoherent complaint, but she lets you tend to her wounds. 

It’s mainly just cleaning off her dry blood as she still complains in the process, but there’s a few cuts on her face and her cheeks are already beginning to bruise. It’s not a secret, she bruises like a peach but she always makes sure her opponent is leaving a lot more with just a few cuts and a bruise the size of a plum. 

It’s then, when you’re concentrating on the cuts on her face, the busted lip she’s sporting; she looks at you. Maybe it’s the first time she has, but without even realizing it, she gets lost. Not in the way Vi doesn’t know who she is, that she’s completely lost on, but Vi sees you. 

Bright-eyed, optimistic, helpful, kind — all attributes she couldn’t claim but wears like a badge of honor. As if helping others instills you with a sense of purpose, something that’s always been a lost cause to her. Fight until the next fight, and the next, and the next. That’s what she’s done, she's always been a fighter. She’s fallen back on it when needed. It’s clear to her. Like a vision she could see, crystal clear through some stupid ball, it’s always been about survival. 

But how much longer does she want to fight and how much more does she have in her? 

“Thanks.” Vi speaks softly. 

Not knowing where to place her palms, she settles for her thigh. Silent as she watches, nearly analyzing every moment, every glance, every little thing you’re doing. It’s sobering to say the least. You don’t need to be delicate but you are. It’s more kindness than she deserves, nearly leaving a bitter taste on her tongue but when you offer a small smile and a soft whisper, you’re welcome. 

It’s the sweetest thing Vi has ever seen. 

There’s something different in the way you look at her. The soft omission exposes how sweet on Vi you may be. Definitely more than you’d let on, which was well…none. Up until tonight, she thought you hated her. With each word uttered in your direction, Vi assumed you’d rather swallow bile than stomach her slurred, flirty speech. 

“Why do you want to help? It’s not like I’ve exactly been—” 

“Kind?” 

“Yeah, something like that.” 

This time Vi lets the smile reach her eyes and your smile gets even sweeter. She can practically feel the sweetness rotting her teeth as she speaks. It’s the first time she feels something new, something as bright as the light radiating through your eyes. 

“You just seem different. Even if you do try to hide it.” 

With a flush of crimson coating the apple of her cheeks, she’s never been quite as exposed as this. The next few weeks are spent with less drinking, but Vi frequents the bar just as much as she did before. She orders a few pints just to talk to you. She’s learning more about you, slowly but surely, you’re opening up more. Divulging information you wouldn’t have before, trust is earned. It’s something you told her the first night you met and to this day, Vi still remembers it. 

Regardless of how drunk she’d been when you said it. 

It’s a typical night. Vi flirted with you but you aren’t being dismissive tonight but you’re careful enough to not let her know exactly how you feel. Everything you say is guarded enough you keep her on her toes, for a moment she thinks she might have to become a ballerina. It’s a slow night, Wednesday. Go figure Vi thinks. There was a woman who’d also been flirting with you all night. Vi thought she was beautiful, sweet, funny…certainly was making you laugh all night. 

Part of Vi wanted to feel jealous but it feels too good hearing you laugh, she says nothing. Maybe you just don’t like women. Vi was known for reading into things too much, thinking everyone thought with their heart first just like she did, and assuming every hot and attractive woman was into other women — just like she is. 

But the brunette left before closing, leaving Vi and a few other regulars paying their tab as they stumbled home with a belly full of liquor of their choosing. 

“Alright Vi, don’t you have somewhere to be? Maybe getting some sleep for the night?” 

“I don’t sleep much, it’s better if I don’t.” 

“Keeps the nightmares away.” 

All Vi does is nod. 

“Story of the century.” You take Vi’s empty pint before washing it dispersing in the sink before cleaning up the remainder of the bar top. “Everyone’s got one around here and the new one is usually even more depressing than the last.” 

“What about yours?” 

“If you wanna hear that, I’ll have to be the one doing the drinking.” You smile but it’s the first one Vi recognizes as insincere. 

“Yeah, seems to be the stone cold requirement for a heart to heart.” 

Vi’s silent as you vent to her about the customer who refused to pay up tonight until you threatened to kick his ass and that wasn't enough, you threatened Letty on him. Vi found herself only slightly entranced as you spoke with such color, your animated voice doing impressions of the stubborn patreon, moving your hands as you speak, eyebrows furrowed as you finished the story. 

You’re done cleaning and are ready to close by the time you finish, locking the door as Vi stuffs her hands in her pockets, “Can I ask you something?” 

You cling to your bag like a lifeline. Vi notices how tight your grip is on the strap, almost as if you’re afraid. Of what? She has a craving to find out. “Why’d you turn her away? She seemed plenty interested. Not your type?” 

You take a step forward, just as close as the last time you were in her apartment, tending to wounds she wouldn’t have really cared about but still she let you clean them. 

You didn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway. 

“No, not really. I like my women a little rough around the edges, stumbling out of bars so wasted they can’t even walk home by themselves.” You smirk, grabbing the lapel of her leather jacket as you tug her closer to you. “Or is that what you want me to say?” 

“Is it true?” 

You both know the hope in her eyes is dangerous. 

Hope. 

A foreign concept in Zaun. If you get too close to the flame, you’ll get burned, dusting into ash as if you never existed. It’s what shimmer did to people, wipe them off the map until they reformed into a shell of what they used to be. You didn’t just get out of a place like this, not without some help. Vi could barely even help herself. 

The both of you know it’s a bad idea. A terrible, god awful idea, but you still move in closer to her. Vi notices and she wipes the smirk off her face, your warm hands finding purchase on her exposed hips, drawing soft circles on her hip bones. She likes it, even when her heart feels torn from being blown to bits by a certain blue-eyed beauty. 

Vi likes you. 

“Your skin is softer than I thought it would be, smooth like pure silk. Not that I’ve ever touched it before but I’ve got to believe it would feel a lot like this.” 

Vi feels a tingle up her spin, your touch is overwhelming, more than she bargained for really. A stumbling, messy kiss is all she really expected if anything. Not this. Clearly, you knew what to do. Leaving Vi a little clueless in that department, she’s knocked off her feet once again but this time in a way she wants to be. But actually bringing something this special to anything more than a few flirty quips? It never seems to be her strong suit. 

So, she puts her best foot forward. Her big stupid mouth, one she can never quite fully silence. “I can guarantee my lips feel a lot softer.” 

“Vi—” You speak her name like a warning, an unspoken law you’re breaking by entertaining your feelings and the bubbling sentiments you hold for her close to your heart. You know better than to keep it so close, but the halo in her eyes blinds you to reason and you let it. 

“It’s Violet but you can call me whatever you want, sweets.” 

You chuckle at the pet name. 

“Just one night. That’s it. Just to get it out of our system.” 

“One night, sweets. It’s all I need.” 

— 

It’s how you ended up here, the third night in a row since the first, trapped under the web of Vi and her eager mouth. Slender, perfectly sculpted fingers feel like a hex to your cunt, every moment causing you to fall further into her spell. To say she has a certain talent would be considered an understatement. It’s clear Vi’s enjoying herself, fuck, damn near suffocates herself in your weeping cunt. Last night wasn’t nearly enough, she needs to have you, again. Not that you were complaining. 

As much as you hate to admit it, there has been no one as generous as her. As good as her, as sweet, as kind, and she did whatever the hell you asked for. Nothing has beaten the first night, her thumping clit nudging against your as she hiked one of your legs over her toned shoulders. 

It’s not a secret how built she is, far from it, but it’s another thing entirely to watch her flexed bicep ripple with every grind of her hips. Each movement seems to be calculated with precision, focused on doing more than just making herself feel good. With pure determination, glazed over crystal blue eyes, and a pouty scarred lip, she makes sure you’re enjoying this as much as her. With each moan you let slip, her confidence only grows until she’s commanded full control over you. She takes what she wants from you and in return you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, constellations created in the shape of her name as you come. 

“That’s it pretty girl, just for me, yeah?” Vi talks you through  as she works you through your orgasm with her strong hips, not stopping even after you’ve cum. She wants more and Vi pulls three more orgasms out of you before she’s done for the night. You expected her to be good. There was no shocker there but you didn’t expect her to be so sweet afterwards. Vi is a drunk, an addict, whether she wants to accept it or not. You could be just another object she’s addicted to. Somehow, you convince yourself it’s just a one time thing. It doesn’t mean anything, it won’t. 

Truthfully it feels much more than just a one night stand, more than an itch being scratched — the blossoming ache in your soul feels tethered to your heart every time Vi makes you feel an ounce of love — even when she tries to hide it behind a wall. Whether you’re aware, the wall can’t seem to stop crumbling. Brick by brick, it’s coming undone just as you have. Weak-willed and with purpose, you fall into her. 

There isn’t an inch of your body Vi didn’t kiss. Her lips tattooing every inch of your skin with marked affection, almost as if she’s mending your skin with the burn of her lips. When she claims your soft lips, haunting you with the salvation of perfection as her velvet tongue invades your mouth, the taste of you melting from her tongue to yours. The silent declaration you didn’t ask for but craved, the carnal moan leaving her mouth as she chuckles when your hips pathetically grind into hers. 

Vi enjoys your company, that much is clear, but this time you bring her to your place. It’s more or less the same. Both of you coming down from the highest of highs, you feel sticky, dirty, and damn right heavenly. Vi disappears into your bathroom, grabbing a wash rag before dampening the material underneath a warm faucet. Carefully, she kneels by your hips, legs twitching softly as her skilled fingers find your slit before Vi’s sucking the digit in your mouth. 

“I just wanted one last taste before I clean you up.” 

As she has before, Vi makes good on her promise and cleans you up. She enjoys when the pad of her thumb grazes against your clit, terribly overstimulated, your stomach twitches. All Vi can do is chuckle. 

“I’m just a little—” 

“Sensitive?” Vi smirks as you hide your face in the palm of her hands, the pad of her thumb gently caressing your skin.  

It’s the lightest she’s felt in weeks. Almost as if she’s floating on a cloud, she wants to stay up there in the cloudiest of nines. Just you and her and an aging mattress as she offers you everything she can give. Albeit, it isn’t much but she’ll still freely give. 

Like a dog with a bone, Vi corners you on the third night when it’s just you and her in the bar. Closing time has long since arrived and vanished into the crisp air of the night but Vi has you bent over the bar, desperation clawing at the weathered countertop of the bar as Vi’s fingers fucks your pretty little hole while her tongue laps at the slick that’s dripping out of you. Your pretty little skirt pushed up, your panties pushed to the side as she laps and sucks at your juices. She can feel you dripping onto her chin and it only makes her that much more eager to swallow every bit you have to offer. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—” Fuck. Vi starts doing tricks with her tongue, sliding in another finger, pushing against the soft spot buried deep as she toys with you in the way knows best. “We, um, Vi we said just one night.” 

“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl. Or did you forget?” Vi moans into your cunt, the vibrations causing your thighs to shake under her mouth. “It’s not like you were complaining last night.” 

Vi silences you as her pace picks up, her fingers fucking you at such a pretty pace, feeling the build grow in the pit of your stomach edging to come to a full bloom. 

All of you begging for it to be released. Vi uses her free hand to slap your ass, sending you moaning and lurching forward. You push yourself back grinding against her tongue, before she removes her divine mouth as she kisses up your spine, her fingers stuffed inside you not faltering for a moment. 

Vi continues to kiss up your spine until she reaches the nape of your neck, her breath kissing your skin, your body shivers into her touch. Full lips ghost over your ear before whispering quietly, “Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you want me to. I just thought you might wanna, you know, take my cock tonight. Give it a good ride.” 

The moan you let out would put Aphrodite’s to shame, needy and choked sobs escape you as her fingers thrust inside you faster than they have before. 

“Oh? Do you like the sound of that, babygirl? Want to show me how good you can be for me?” Vi doubled down on her efforts, enjoying how much you arched into her body, your hips pushing back as you grind into quick fingers. She’s fucking you better than well…anyone. 

“Vi, please.” Your voice catches in your throat, hoarse and full of need. An insatiable craving; one you fear only she can provide. A few mindless days and careless flirting to land in her sheets, her in yours, the details didn’t truly matter. A vampire out for blood, almost more venomous than precious canines breaking the skin, you yearned to suck on every last drop. But she didn’t seem to be in a mind frame to relinquish control. 

“Please what? I’m not sure if I understand you.” 

All of it, so tantalizing, so fucking infuriating. Three fingers inside you, effectively making you silent, shutting you up as she brings you closer to the edge. That’s the thing, truthfully, Vi has you right where she wants. Only a few thrusts away until you come undone around her. The black haired succubus increases the pace, thumb playing with your clit, her calloused fingers increasing your high as she applies more pressure on the thousands of nerve endings on your precious pearl. 

“Shit. You’re gonna pay for this.” 

“What? For making you come? I hardly constitute that as a crime.” 

Your hands reach for the counter top, you’re not sure what exactly you want, but Vi makes you come for the first time that night. It’s a game, the push and pull. Dangerous. Intoxicating. Some disposition falling far from your fingertips, a game to her and a downward hill spiral for you. Addiction festering next to an open wound and the only antidote can be found on her tongue. Tasting the devil’s mouth is one thing but swallowing the sensation of the woman you’re beginning to love is something else entirely. 

Vi, despite her best efforts not to, makes you fall over the edge. It’s more than her eager tongue and expectant mouth slurping at the vindication of your taste. The craving builds like an exposed vein. Her confidence irrevocably soars like a raven through the midnight sky. Even if Vi acts like she’s done this before, you could pull the curiosity intertwined with naivety a mile away. Violet has never done this before, not with a woman at least, you’re sure of it. She’s a fast learner and such a great accomplishment should replenish such a reward. 

With the energy you have left, you push your skirt down first, as Vi puts your underwear back in place. She doesn’t stop touching you. She can’t. There isn’t much she feels she has control over, this arrangement being one of them. She’s good at this and Vi enjoys it. Every other part of her life, failure surrounds her, her ability not to please anyone in her life. 

In a constant loop, she finds herself caught in the crossfire. Tugged between sister and lover, family and righteousness. Her enemy becomes her lover and lover becomes enemy — all of it poisons her blood and cures her core — and all of it makes her hear a voice she doesn’t recognize but it’s just as true as the four walls surrounding her. 

Oil and water. 

Collecting like scars on her porcelain skin, Vi feels herself sink like an obliterating star. There’s a wonder settled in her chest, it feels heavy and weak, two incapable fists unable to surround her heart with anything but loss, betrayal even. She can’t punch her way out of this one.

All of it wakes a fire in her chest, a dagger being punctured in her heart by the one Vi thought she could trust the most. She doesn’t want to admit it so she doesn’t. 

But this? It feels easy. 

She needs easy, light, even good. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it. 

Vi definitely doesn’t, the sentence flows like a never-ending stream of waterfall continuously drowning her. The blood on her hands stains her perception of all things pure, she wonders how she even sees you at all. How you see her more vividly than anyone, possibly even Cait. There’s no judgment, no snarky remark of where she comes from. Even if she thought there had once been love, Vi questions it now. 

When you come, it feels like a breath of fresh air, a golden wave washing over her sinful hands. Each stroke of gold, your grit and blind hopefulness soaks Vi’s entity. This is what she wants. There’s nothing more than this, someone she could love, who loves her. It’s uncomplicated but the feeling flees as you come to it. Vi can’t help but feel regretful as you cover your ass, it’s such a pretty sight. She can’t stop that she’s greedy, you’ve fed her for the first time in her life and now Vi feels full but she’s only human. 

A sinner always craves more. 

She lets her touch linger on the gold between your thighs, pushing the white substance back into you before Vi lets you feel how wet you are, the dripping slick feels uncomfortable caged into cotton underwear and she wants you to feel it. The breath Vi hears are still heavy, impossibly heavy, and there’s pride in hearing you center yourself, back pressed against her chest as Vi keeps you in place. 

The pleasure within your body begins to slither away as you come back into the angel you are and not the sexual deviant bent over the woman who never pulls her punches. 

“Felt good, yeah?” Vi says. Her angelic, sweeter than the cotton candy stick in your teeth, voice penetrates through. You like it too much. It shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does. Desperately, you want to keep this casual but you’re even losing your footing. 

You pride yourself on the lack of attachment; you don’t need it. Never really had. But then with her it seems to change even faster than the seasons, your wall breaks somehow in between from spring to summer. With intent, you move around, her bright eyes have darken a bit but the fading light looks brighter than you’ve ever seen it. 

Fuck, Vi is making this difficult. 

“You could say that.” You speak softly, a tremble in your voice occurs but Vi says nothing but she does smirk. “Can I ask you something?” 

You turn around and suddenly Vi is staring at your exposed cleavage, the one you use to draw in patreons and to fill your pockets with as many tips as one can muster. Vi had been one, a faithful one trying to drink her away to the bottom of every bottle until she found something else for her. Something that didn’t leave a burn in her throat. 

“What is it?” 

“Was it your first time? The first night?” 

Sheepishly, Vi blushes. For a second, she contemplates lying but you’d see right through it. Right through her. It would only take one look in her blues and you would know. 

“That obvious?” Vi struggles with her words next but she manages to murmur a lame excuse. “Stillwater didn’t leave much time for this.” 

“And after?” You tease but the sincerity in your eyes soothes her. 

“There could have been but there wasn’t. Some things just don’t fit.” Oil and water is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue. 

“You should have told me. I wouldn’t have been so, I don’t know, selfish?” 

“There’s nothing selfish about it. I wanted to make you feel good. Did you enjoy yourself?” This time she makes your skin feel hot. Fuck. 

“Yeah, I did enjoy myself,” you pressed against her as your arms loop around Vi’s necks to bring her closer “but I think it’s officially my turn to offer my services. Don’t you think so?” 

It’s how Vi ends up here, in your place, in your bed — soaked. 

If there was one thing you knew, it was how to please someone. You managed to pull whimpers out of her she didn’t even know existed. The desperate plea coming from her shivering body as she spilled in your mouth the first time sent a shiver down her spine, the band in her stomach snapping as you sloppily spit on her cunt, constant circles of pressure on her clit seeing nothing but your eyes look up at her. 

Not letting a single drop go to waste, you fucked Vi through it, swallowing her completely. Vi shed the wrap covering her chest next. Her body bruised from the pit fights but you couldn’t think of anyone more beautiful than her. You paid attention to her collarbones, neck, and her tits. Sucking on her nipples as Vi tries to come down from the high you placed her on, she doesn’t think she ever will. 

She tries not to think that she wanted these things with Caitlyn. Cait. Cupcake. 

Vi only allows herself to think of her when she’s dreaming, visions of what that could have been, what she used to be. All of it so trivial, so senseless when she thinks of you. How you make her feel is different and she tries not to think of what it all means. 

One night. 

Then two. 

Now three. 

In another life, maybe she was stronger, and didn't need to be wanted. Hell, even needed. She could wait for someone who she thought loves her but the other part of her doesn’t want to think, she wants to feel. Vi likes feeling the softness of your skin, the light in your laughter, the swell of your exposed chest, the way your greedy eyes take in her abs, your soft lips kissing every part of her skin. The smooth, the scarred, the unworthy — you take it all in such stride. 

“Do you want to stop? I think I lost you for a second.” You inquire to the pretty girl beneath you, her hands find your waist, creating makeshift circles on your hip bones. 

“No, that’s the last thing I want.” Vi brings you to her lips, capturing your bottom lip, tongue invading your mouth. She tastes herself as your tongue melts with hers and the rest of her worries melt away. It’s just you and her. “I want to keep going.” 

“Then tell me what you want, baby. I’ll do whatever you want. It’s yours if you want it.” 

It’s spoken as a reminder. All of this is her decision. Vi decides when she wants this, how she wants it, and you’re letting her take all of it in the way she needs. Vi tried not to think the first couple times, she never wanted her first time to be a big deal. Maybe with Caitlyn it could have been, but then she changed. 

Vi thought maybe she could too. So, she did. 

“Can you—” Vi stutters. Yet again her attention gets pulled to your tits, the softness of your stomach, she can’t stop looking at you. As if she’s trying to remember everything about you. She’s committed to it. Vi wants to remember the soft curves of your hips, the way you moan when she comes on your tongue. 

The sight of you looking down at her makes she lose every rational thought, she wants to commit to memory forever. It won’t be something she easily forgets. 

“Gotta speak up, babygirl. Especially if you want me to keep my attention focused on this pretty cunt of yours.” 

You sit between her legs, tilting your head, you look at her glistening pussy, the way it shines with her cum and your sloppy spit. It would look even more exquisite with a little more. Taking a beat as you take your time, you gather enough in your mouth before spitting slowly, Vi whimpering as your spit makes contact with her lower pair of lips. She couldn’t stop it, it slips and you’re grinning, hips desperately bucking to feel more of it. 

“F-Fuck, need your cock. Please? I need it more than anything.” Vi confesses. There’s no need for dignity, especially if she keeps it and you won’t give her what she’s itching for. 

“Yeah? Are you sure about it? Don’t want you backing out just in case you can’t be a good girl and take it.” 

She can take it but she can’t take the countless teasing, trapped underneath the images drowning in her mind. This is what she wants, someone to dissolve into her, make her forget everything that has happened, just a pretty girl with some pretty tits who knows how to fuck. Right? That’s all this is. It’s all it can be tonight. Her lip is busted from the fight tonight, knuckles bloodied and bruised, but you don’t seem to mind all that much. It’s all the same to you. Vi is all the same, that’s been clear from the start. 

Then, she decides to let her mind get shut off, let herself fall into you. You did know how to take care of her and tonight she would let you. 

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” 

“I promise.” 

Once the harness is on, you wedge yourself in between her thighs, tattooed and toned, brave and brawny but she transforms into someone else entirely once you’re sinking inside her warm walls. You think about what it would feel like to feel her. Is she clenching around your cock? Would you feel the throbbing heartbreak of her clit? What you can hear is the whimper, uncontrollable and breathtaking, you slip further into her as you make home in her beautiful cunt. 

She’s made it yours to take. You’d do anything and everything for her, the thought alone scares so you do what you do best, you grind your hips slowly. Not wanting to overwhelm her too quickly, it’s the first time she’s taking penetration and you want it to be good for her. 

“You’re so perfect. Doing so good for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” You whisper out, taking too much enjoyment in her getting lost in your soft thrusts. Vi’s chest starts to heave as her hips roll into yours. Vi never even imagined wanting this, or that she could really have it with someone else. It’s not like she’s experienced, she has nothing to compare it to, but it feels incredibly intimate. 

She likes how you’re being with her. Soft, gentle, delicate. Vi thought she’d never want to feel that way, but maybe it’s just under the right circumstance in the right light. 

“Shit, shit, shit” Vi chants as your hand grabs the headboard, giving her one particular powerful thrust. Perky tits spring to life, jolting against the sudden movement, her moan so fucking load, as you continue your movements. This time not as hard, but you pick up your pace, wanting to see if she would have any arguments against it but Vi doesn’t. Profanities and whimpers leave her mouth as you split her on your cock. Face half-smashed into the pillow, trying to muffle her moans and you offer this one mercy. 

She’s still shy. 

Now is a good time as any to fuck it out of her. 

“Do you want more Vi? Want me to go…faster?” Placing a hand on her abdomen, the abs defined and clenching as you halt your thrust for a moment. “Do you wanna feel me in your stomach, baby?” 

“Can you even do that? I’m not so sure you’re even capable. Looks like the rookie knows more moves than the veteran.” Vi bites back. But it doesn’t last for long. Vi thinks she must have said the wrong thing, pushed you too far, you slipped off her but only to move her body to the edge of the bed, placing her on all fours right in front of a very convenient mirror. 

“Fine. Thought I’d be sweet but that isn’t what you really want. If you want to get treated like a whore, I’ll fuck you like one.” You take a beat to appreciate her wonderfully sculpted back, the artwork is truly exquisite. It feels so much like her but the foolish girl is smirking at you through the mirror. 

You know you’ve been caught ogling at her body, checking out every inch of her exposed body, you slap her ass in retaliation but she just grinds her ass back onto you. 

“I’m waiting.” Teasingly, Vi arches her spine more. “Where’s the whore fucking you’re muling about?” 

In one move, you’re inside her, fucking her beautiful face into the mattress. Never in her life has she felt so full, so good, so sweet. You grab her by the meat of her hips, bringing you back on her repeatedly. Vi wonders what she would give to have this, have you, and the thought scares her just as badly. She instead focused on you. 

Tits bouncing as you thrust into her at a punishing pace. Divinely and so perfectly you, making her see stars, she feels trapped. Not in a punishing way, but in a way that has her never wanting to leave the entrapments of your coaxing cock. At this moment, this is where she’s meant to be, just a toy for you to use. 

But it’s more than what meets the eye. If Vi was just a toy, you’d be done after the first night. Tonight, you weren’t using her for your own pleasure. You seemed perfectly content to give. The shine in her eyes gave you something only she could, edging you even further, a constant wave hitting Vi like a tidal wave making home on the shore. 

“God, you’re just too perfect. Fuck, just like that, take what’s yours.” Bouncing back on the strap, the words fall from her lips before she can’t stop them. Overflowing like a water fountain, it’s before she really even realizes what she’s saying, it just feels right. 

“Mommy, please.” 

Vi has had those words on the tip of her tongue but not that you’re fucking her into a different dimension, she lets the aching plea slip from sinful lips. It’s only once but it’s enough to set you off. You pull Vi up, her gorgeous back pressed against your chest, sitting on your thighs as you fuck up into her. Brutally, she takes everything you have to give. 

Sweat glistening across her body, accentuating her chest as she tries to compose herself  but you don’t give her the option. No. It would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

“I want you to watch, Violet. Watch yourself when you cum, be a good girl and show me how pretty you look, hm? Wouldn’t wanna disappoint, Mommy, now would you?” 

Vi sucks on your middle digit, tongues swirling as she feels the tight band in her stomach, threatening to snap. She’s close. When the sensationally soft pad of your thumb applies pressure on her clit, Vi’s done for. 

“Shit, oh my fucking god, baby baby babbyyyyy.” Incoherent murmurs and moans come in abundance as Vi bounces herself your cock, falling right apart as you toy with her clit, fucking her through the impending high. Your other arm tweaks around and up, fingers squeezing her tits, over stimulating her as she slumps against you. 

It’s the easiest task ever done. Submit to you, your skilled fingers, the power of your sinfully sensational thrusts, she comes all over you. The powerful demeanor weakens before your very eyes. When you gently move her back on the bed, slipping out of her, Vi’s eyes begin to water from the loss. 

The first time getting strapped down is always a lot to handle, you’d still taken it easier on her, too afraid you would push her too far but by the blissed out eyes, she’d enjoyed herself. She had enjoyed herself and you couldn’t really ask for much more. 

When the both of you are cleaned up, Vi cuddles into your frame and you let her. Even if your first instinct is to push her away, saying something you know that’ll hurt her, none of it finds any merit on your tongue. For the first time, you find it difficult to turn away a pretty girl, her lips kissing your collarbones, up your neck until she finds home on your own lips, sloppily invading your mouth with your tongue. 

Hitting you where it hurts, she moans your name in her mouth, unable to contain the neediness she feels around you. It’s worse than Cait. This is pure addiction entangled with something carnal. Vi knows if she doesn’t get to fuck you again, you fucking her cunt again, she might as well give up on life now. 

“I could go again.” 

You chuckle. Of course she could. 

“Don’t know rookie, that might be all you can handle for the night.” 

It’s a challenge and you know she’ll bite the bait. 

With ease she gets on top of you, and just as if she’s done it a hundred times, Vi sinks on your cock, “I think I can handle another ride, don’t you?” 

[pierregazly]

but mama, i love him ꨄ oscar piastri smau

oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

the one where oscar's girlfriend has been soft launching their relationship for ages. and he's okay with it, especially if it means he can keep hiding in plain sight from her three overprotective brothers.

ynleclerc

tagged charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and others

ynleclerc omg omg omg... charles leclerc signed my hat? should i add it to the shrine? give them something to sacrifice?

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username any non-f1 fan would automatically assume ynleclerc is a crazy fan page for charles

username or a charles leclerc hate page... all she does it make fun of her brothers here

username she's offering her signed hat for the tifosi to sacrifice for a CL16 win??? that seems like pure love all around

arthur_leclerc i also signed your hat?

ynleclerc i also do not care? will a hat signed by you get me millions if i sell it for sacrificial purposes?

charles_leclerc what's next? my personal belongings?

ynleclerc is that an offer? if so, oui. i will take what i think will make me the most money next time i'm there, merci <3

scuderiaferrari if it gets us a 1-2 finish, sacrifice everything ynleclerc... please 🙏

username being a Ferrari fan is so satisfying when you remember ynleclerc is an automatic inclusion in everything and anything charles does

username the things i would do to have her as a McLaren fan... she's too beautiful for Ferrari 😭

oscarpiastri a piastri hat will get you good money in straya btw

username oscar??

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, mclaren, and others

oscarpiastri 'stop hitting me with the ball on purpose you jerk' was said more times than it should've been, by someone who really just sucks at tennis. had an awesome week back home, time to get back to it 💪

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logansargeant no wonder you're so worried about getting run over

username the coordinating outfits?? i'm gonna scream, who is she!!!

username what does logan know, tell us your secrets girl logansargeant

username oscar is gonna soft launch this relationship until the end of time. show us her face, you coward!!

ynleclerc did you pay her for all the bruises that tennis ball left?? poor girl

oscarpiastri it's not my fault she's a terrible tennis player, we all know i've offered to pay for a trainer

landonorris so this is why you couldn't come to bali with me 🤨

username lando really said i'm the third wheel??

username to be fair i'd probably pick oscar's girlfriend over lando for a week away too

username girly you don't even know who she is!!! she could be the devil

username i wanna be included in oscar's post week home photo dump :(

ynleclerc has posted a story

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, pascale.leclerc.355, and others

replies

oscarpiastri you can call me pookie whenever you want if you're gonna post things like this

ynleclerc i'd call you pookie with or without your permission, mon amour

charles_leclerc who is this

charles_leclerc why won't you tell us who you're dating

charles_leclerc we won't hurt him

charles_leclerc answer my texts

ynleclerc

liked by oscarpiastri, pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, and others

ynleclerc get you a man who can do both, luckiest woman in the world whenever you're around. mon amour 🤍

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username people involved in formula 1 and their obsession with soft launching everything NEEDS to be studied

username at least she posts her boyfriend and he isn't just a small figure in the background of every post (charles this is a direct hate comment)

arthur_leclerc this would have been very lovely if it weren't for the last photo

liked by charles_leclerc and lorenzotl

ynleclerc suppose it's a good thing you could easily ignore it. cheers :)

pascale.leclerc.355 trés belle, ma fille 💗

charles_leclerc maman?

username could you IMAGINE if ynleclerc told pascale but obviously hasn't told her brothers? i can FEEL the outrage

username starting to think this may be a driver, ynleclerc is at every race weekend and ALWAYS makes a post with her mystery man at some point during the week after...

username okay ms sleuth (i think it's lando)

username i'm like 65% sure it's oscar, and 35% positive it's someone that looks a lot like oscar

ynleclerc

tagged oscarpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris, and others

ynleclerc someone exposed us on twitter, so i had to expose us on instagram 😮‍💨

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri love you <3

oscarpiastri i will love you even when a ferrari has run me over, of course.

arthur_leclerc is this your way of telling me i was right, without texting me back?

charles_leclerc this must be a joke, non?

pascale.leclerc.355 so very excited to finally be able to invite the both of you for dinner. trés belle 🤍

charles_leclerc maman, you knew?

ynleclerc oscar and i will see you for sunday dinner, maman! <3

tresbelleleclercspam

liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

ynleclerc live feed of oscar running away from charles in the paddock when he said he 'just wanted to talk, mate'

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charles_leclerc i truly just wanted to talk about the race

charles_leclerc i did not have a speech planned, non

arthur_leclerc i did have a speech planned

lorenzotl i just wanted to welcome him to the family, as a good big brother should

oscarpiastri my apple watch warned me of an overactive heart rate 5 times today. why did you do this to me. why couldn't you have three sisters???

ynleclerc so very sorry, in our next life i'll try to make sure you only have to worry about sisters and not three overprotective brothers

oscarpiastri as long as i get to spend every lifetime with you <3

i actually got a request for something like this ages ago, and finally got around to finishing it. i so hope you all loved it as much as i loved writing it. thank you for all the support!!

i'm not currently taking requests, but if anyone has lil suggestions or prompts please feel free to send them.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Mafia!Konig X Sex Worker/Prostitute!Reader pretending like she's constantly not there at the brothel whenever she hears him coming

You aced the art of hiding from him. Unfortunately, Konig is still the most paid client at your brothel and, at some point, even a fine establishment like yours, will stop listening to your wishes and finally push you in his hands. The manager might be a bit disappointed that such an elite prostitute is gone from this line of work forever, but at least they would lose Konig as a client - and with this guy, he always brings in more trouble than money. Although he has paid three times more than your debt already. You were trying to avoid him, but everyone else at the brothel was ratting you out - no one wants to deal with an angry mafia boss when his favorite girl is not around, and especially not when he thinks that she is with another client. He paid for you to be blocked from any other guy - as much as you hated it, since the manager didn't pay you even half of what Konig gave. You're a bird inside a fabric-padded cage, and Konig is your silent observer, waiting for you to finally break and ask him to get you out of this place. Maybe, it won't be so bad. Yeah, he'd clip your wings and make you stay by his side at all times - but he would also pay you more than any of the assholish clients you had. Maybe your freedom was cheaper than you thought it is. Konig always pays for the whole night, always drags you out of the place - it's usually not in the policy, with how careful the place treats its best dolls, but he can pay upfront and make a week of your payments in just a few hours. He never stays for the whole night, however -- too busy, you guess, never staying too long after he fucked you once or twice. He pays for the whole night and let you stay at the fancy hotel room he got for the two of you, with breakfast service in bed included. On good days, you can almost pretend to be a spoiled princess who has servants at her beck and call. On bad days, you feel like a sacrifice for some unruly god of war. Spread open on his bed and then fed grass-fed cuts of beef and some expensive grapes. You feel stuffed during those days - both figuratively and literally. Sometimes you really wish he'd stay - but the most he gives you is a quick hug, desperately clinging to your body before his mind catches up to him and tells him to stay away.

[circinuus]

super secret special edition SSS!

husband! jing yuan x fem pronouns reader. 1.5k words

everyone lives with secrets, even you. it's about time your husband unearths the things you've been so adamant to conceal.

[crossposted on ao3]

Tingyun knows the secret of the trade as much as she knows to keep her benefactor’s secrets.

Tourists from afar, far-reaching emissaries, foreign merchants. Secrets are both poison and leverage for all, and you are aware the amicassador does not exclude even you from this unspoken adage.

“Oh? It's Lady (Name)~ This Tingyun is always pleased to do business with my lady.”

“Tingyun…” you eyeball the tapestry hanging behind her. The Exalting Sanctum is generous with its pleasant chill. No one bats an eye as you fiddle with your warm coat that almost functions as a discreet (you hope) hood.

The worry lingers either way. A secret is both a poison and a leverage, still.

“Ah! apologies,” Tingyun's words do not match her delighted clap. “My lady—Lady Benefactor has always had many things to say of the General. This Tingyun has been swept over by your admirable enthusiasm and became clumsy with her words! Please forgive her.”

Clumsy my tail!

You were never a possessive lover. Let alone an obsessive one. It simply happens that you are not the General's spouse, but his lovely, supportive, very enthusiastic spouse.

Overheard in the Seat of Divine Foresight Gardens, an old story dictates: one may call the General’s name three times. If all is in the same breath of a praise, Lady (Name) will appear behind you, hold your hand, and talk with exuberance as she sits you down in Sleepless Earl. If all is in the same breath of a meaningless insult, she will appear with a metal coated fan to cool you down.

Which, in essence, is not untrue. And by extension, Tingyun's remark is not wrong either. But still.

“In any case,” you cough into your fist. It’s a shame that your palm is empty of the gilded hand fan Jing Yuan gifted you on your last anniversary. But business calls for sacrifices. You need your hands, preferably empty. Thus, the fan sits await in your shared abode for the span of your little excursion.

“Do you have the good stuff?”

“Certainly, Lady Benefactor,” Tingyun reciprocates your whisper, “I have the special edition goods reserved only for my VIP patron...”

Walking past the meager amount of food stalls in the Exalting Sanctum, you feel grateful for the tuskpir roll and puffergoat milk you’ve secured during your trip to Aurum Alley.

Yes, Aurum Alley. Why took the trouble to meet Tingyun first? Well. You’ve already left your love's gift away from your person. You can’t possibly leave anywhere without at least one piece of your husband, can’t you?

“Hehehehe.”

A child turns his head, and his mother beckons him away from the odd stranger. With a furrowed brow, she tears her gaze as you giggle and caress the holographic, embossed picture of Jing Yuan’s side profile; taken from one of his public appearances.

The smooth surface of the print glints in the light. Golden eyes. Silver mane. Walking past Synwood Pavilion, it’s not never that your trance grants you a scratch or bruise from hanging pots and stairs unnoticed. But this time, a kind enough stranger pulls you away from the harm.

“Thank you—ouu?!!”

The sky falls, your blood runs tepid.

Not only do the stranger keep their hold on your arm, they take the momentum to pull you close and rest a palm on the slope of your waist.

“I have not seen you since this morning, and now you try to dispose of me?”

The sharp edge of the photo card in your hand stops by a breadth of the stranger's jugular. Staring back at you are a pair of familiar eyes as golden as a spring evening.

“A-Yuan?”

“My lady,” Jing Yuan words flow easily with his small laugh. He finds no struggle in grasping the hand hovering on his neck, and before you find the tact to hide the picture you posed as an instinctual weapon, he presses a tender kiss to your wrist.

…Oh.

“A- A-Yuan.” You parrot, throat scraping dry against your voice. “I thought Master Diviner Fu and Qingzu are keeping you for the day.”

Jing Yuan’s hand is still warm against your lower back. He shakes his head. “This self is not so young anymore, and this old man needs a moment’s rest, simply.”

???! Old man my foot!!!

Your eyes dart. Hiding the embossed photo card—which discreet nature is now questionable—remains tantamount. But Jing Yuan is as cunning as he is powerful. By deliberation or spontaneous display, he envelops your figure before you choose a step; warm curls tickling your jaw as he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Baobei—Jing Yuan, we’re still in public!-“

“I miss my beloved.”

Your dearest has always had a penchant for words of affection. Yet, there is a sliver of genuine fatigue in his voice, this time. Not as potent as the nights when he sought your embrace to stave away regrets and guilt of the past, but you know the shape of his ails better than anyone.

And this, for a moment, melts everything else. Sounds and colors dissolve. The world becomes nothing but him. Inconsequential; all but him.

Your lips soothe into a soft smile. Running your fingers through his pale curls, he breathes into your collarbone.

“Did you run away from the paperworks?”

“No, not this time.” His laugh tickles your neck. A sound reminiscent of Mimi’s purr. A beat, he stands straight to stare at your face before a gentle hand caresses your cheek.

“Matters have settled down early in the Seat of Divine Foresight. I rushed home to see my beloved, but fortune seems to favor my side this day.”

“Yes—well...” your tongue is heavy. Years of matrimony and you are still unable to keep up with his affections. Fortune favors your side, in fact. For this lifetime and for the next, you pray.

“I’m glad that things have settled,” you fiddle with the photo still nestled in your right hand. “I was out for a small excursion and was about to pick you up. I bought some treats as well.”

“My wife spoils me so.” You always liked the way he smiles. “Although I’d prefer my lady not get hurt and distracted in the streets, much less if I am the cause."

“What?”

Jing Yuan glances sideways, so you numbly follow his gaze.

Jumping at the realization, raw adrenaline forcibly pulls your hand behind your back, hiding the glow of the holographic photo card—special edition! Tingyun said. Though, who can deceive the Luofu Arbiter General?

You stand helpless when Jing Yuan gently reclaims your hand, slowly raising it from the shadows of your back. He hums at the glinting photo when his image is revealed for shared observation, and, to your surprise, spares no word but merely presses his lips to your knuckles.

“Fortune favors me, truly, to have such a loving beloved like you."

You make a face. Embarrassment, humor, then it all sheds to eventual amusement. You want to shake this man like a chewtoy. Turn him upside down. Rattle him.

"Since when?"

"A while."

You orchestrate a pout, "Why only tell me now?"

Jing Yuan humors you with a twinkle in his eye. "Why settle for a moment captured in time when the real one stands present before you?”

You pause.

A blink. A couple. A cycrane flies over the sky. As it departs to the horizon, so does your incredulous, airy laugh.

You made up your mind to take a strategic step backwards, putting away the photo. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Perhaps.”

“You say that as if I didn’t notice you commissioning paintings of my image too, General”

Jing Yuan’s smile is mirthful. “So I have been caught.”

You giggle, and with or without your notice, Jing Yuan sucks in a quiet breath. An unsaid promise; another oath sworn into the silence to keep that smile safe. To ease all the tears that linger on your lashes. To soothe all the curved frowns bending your lips.

From the day he was a mere boy running late for his former teacher’s training, stumbling upon a little lady who, even then, was already brimming with a penchant for trinkets and sweets alike, to the years witnessing both of your growth, the awkward young years, the losses you both braved alone and in hand, your courtship, the day when he tied the strings of fate and bound himself to you for that day and forevermore. Even today, he had loved you. He still does, and always will.

His reverie gave you way to tiptoe and leave a ghost of a kiss to your dearest’s brow. Mimicking his frequent strategy of making a move before the adversary registers, you take his hand and lead him away from the eaved shadows of the Synwood Pavilion.

“Let’s go home, A-Yuan.”

Jing Yuan’s hand fit too perfectly, engulfing yours.

A breathless chuckle mixes with the bustle of the Exalting Sanctum; his steps pulled along with your trots. Although poor in concealment, with a series of gasps and amused murmur echoing at your wake, you pull him along to sneak through street corners and pavilions as if you are both young again. And for that moment, everything is right.

...

You’re still going to keep that holographic photo and keep it with the other stashes, though. After all, it's a super secret special edition SSS photo card!

i've been feeling lowkey anxious lately and this honk shoo mimimi man has been one of my crutches. I love him sm. legit cried at some point thinking about him zamn

[letorip]

aline

“et j'ai crié, crié "aline!" pour qu'elle revienne, et j'ai pleuré, pleuré, oh j'avais trop de peine”

===+++===

pairing: wednesday addams x reader

summary: sometimes you’d talk about dying to wednesday, though it was something an addams couldn’t ever really fear. that was, until the person being lost was you.

warnings: erm you die lol, major character death, wednesday being sad, mentions of blood, self sacrifice, maybe a little contrived way to die but too bad

word count: 1.6k

A/N: i promise im okay but this was truly an interesting plot line to follow, and i couldn’t bear not writing it down. if it made you sad, don’t worry, because i have more fluffy stuff on the way. it was something short i had considered doing for a long time, so even if this flops i'm completely happy with how it came out.

===+++===

===+++===

"Wednesday?" you asked, eyes on the wooden ceiling of her room. From the way her head rests against the warm plane of your chest, she can feel the smooth skin move as you say her name, heart right under her ear. It nearly lulls her to sleep, had it not been a question.

"Yes?" she purrs, lazily propping herself up on her arm. There are heavy weights on her eyelids, but the line of your mouth tells her something is troubling you. You’re too saturnine, much too glum for what you and Wednesday just did, and her eyes soften imperceptibly, her thumb going to your side to quietly stroke itself back and forth there. “What’s plaguing you?”

You can’t help but shudder at the contact of her hand and the goosebumps the pads of her fingers leave in their wake. “Are you... do you...," you attempt, the question falling flat on your tongue. She furrows her eyebrows at your hesitation.

"Say your thoughts,” she says, forehead creased in concern. It's almost funny, how caring and soft she is, now that she's given up on trying to seem aloof and apathetic towards you, her skin warm against your own.

The Addams Curse to love someone with every fibre of their being had taken hold of Wednesday entirely, and she looked at you sometimes like you held her beating heart in your hands, or at least like she'd cut it out for you, if you were to need it. She raises a hand, gently brushing a few hairs from your forehead.

“Are you afraid of dying?”

Her eyebrows furrow even further, scanning your face for any indicators of harm. “Where is this coming from? Has something been done to you?”

But you shrug, finally looking down to look her in the eyes with softness. “I was just wondering�� are you?”

She narrows her eyes. “You know I’m an Addams. Death is a friend, not a foe. Fear of that serves no purpose. Only cowardice from facing a fight. Only to make you weak.”

Your eyes flit away. “Hm.” There’s no hiding of disagreement in your tone, and it has an embarrassing amount of power over her, how she itches to know what goes on in that head of yours.

“What?”

“I think… I think my fear is what makes me strong. I’m afraid of losing those I care about. And so I fight with every bit of sweat, blood, and tears that I have. Your loss is my deepest fear, Wednesday. My deepest.”

She stared at you momentarily, then looked out the window to the stars. “How is one to fear death when it is far from the end? Death may take me from your sight, but it cannot take me from your heart. There I live, vibrant and whole. Forever.”

===+++===

You’d never even realised how much blood the human body could actually hold, until you were standing there in the centre of the quad with an arrow straight right below your heart, its steel tip poking from your back. Your own blood coated your hands where you cupped it, dribbling down the splintered wood and splattering in droplets to the cobblestone in thick, dark red splotches.

The blood— your blood— is coming out even more now, and you turn to look at Wednesday, where you had shoved her out of harm’s way. Her eyes are wide in horror, like she's seeing something straight from a nightmare of hers, and you take a clammy step towards her, frigid and burning at the same time.

“Wens—” you stammer, and suddenly your knees are giving out. She rushes forward, trying to catch you in her arms, but you're too heavy, deadweight that tugs on her. You fall onto them, your knees, clutching at the newly opened maw of your chest with a gasp, and before you know it you’re falling forward towards the floor.

Wednesday follows you down, catching you before you can land, and she holds you tight, turning you over onto your back as the arrow sticks straight up from the heart she cherishes so much. The wood is already splintering, nearly falling apart, and her hand goes to your wound as if trying to put your blood back into your body.

It’s uncomfortable, with the metal tip of Xavier’s arrow sticking from the back of your chest and lightly prodding at her front, but she squeezes you tightly against herself, hands frantically travelling the length of your torso and raking over your arms, anywhere she can reach. But there’s nothing she can do. It’s a thought she refuses to confront, but Wednesday specialised in dealing with dead things; she was unfamiliar with how to keep things alive, no matter how much she needed you to stay that way.

Crackstone is cackling from his belly, a toothy sneer spreading itself out onto his leathery face as he looks at the damage he’s done, stomping towards you. “Hey!” Bianca yells from the opposite door, and the pilgrim whips around, as Xavier takes another shot at him. It lands in the pilgrim’s arm but he pulls it out like a twig, snapping it and tossing it to the ground, before he makes his way towards Bianca.

Your white shirt is completely soaking itself in your blood, droplets running down Wednesday’s fingers where she tries to hold the wound and apply pressure. But there was no saving a skewered heart.

"No, no, no," she coos, voice barely above a whisper and tears already pricking at the corners of her eyes. You're crying out in pain as the arrow shifts within you, fingers scrabbling at Wednesday's arms where they hold at you. Your fingernails sink into her skin, and she winces but doesn't pull away.

"Wens," you say again, infinitely weaker than before. "Wednesday…” It’s like your mouth won’t move coherently with your brain, like words mean trudging through ice and slush to come out, even the red-hot ones you need to say. “H—Hurts,” you spit out, and with it comes a small stream of blood from your mouth as you cough and air becomes less and less available.

She nods in a rush, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. “I’m aware, I know,” she’s completely crying now. “We will get you care, cara mia, just hol— just hold on for a little while.” But you’re shaking your head.

“Don’t have— I don’t have—” you’re coughing up more blood, and she wipes it from your chin with a shaky hand. There’s just too much of it, everywhere. You had once gifted her some as a token of your devotion and it was a prized possession of hers, but now there was so much and she would have given it back in a heartbeat if it gave you any more of those.

She can vaguely hear Bianca and Xavier yelling on the other side of the quad, and various fires rage on in their chaotic yet vibrant corners, tickling against her skin in large crackles, burning in the reflection of your eyes that stare up at the sky. Your head is leaning against her shoulder, and she raises her hand, stroking through your soft hair as you heave in her arms.

“You must live, I promise you,” Wednesday insists fiercely, “I promise you, if you die right now, I will kill you.” But its tears that streak down her face, her jaw clenching and dark eyeliner running down her cheeks. She’s squeezing you right against herself, feeling the pain of the sharp arrow poke at her own skin.

“Vibrant and wh—whole?” you said with a smile, feeling your voice begin to slow down and with it, the beating of your heart. The blood has pooled in a sick puddle around your body.

She’s shaking her head. “Cara mia, we don’t need to do this, we will get you to a doctor. You will be—”

“—Wednesday,” you interrupt. Your voice has reached an eerie calm that sends a shiver down her spine, and it snaps her from any sort of hope. “Vibrant… and whole?”

She looks down at you for a moment, tracing the features of your nose, the planes of your cheeks, the colours of your eyes and the wryness of your smile. Wednesday swallows. “Forever. You know that. You must always know that.”

You nod, letting out a small laugh. It hurts, she can hear you wheeze right after you done it, but you sit in silence for a moment, and she can feel you get slower and slower, and your shirt gets redder and redder. The tears are uncontrollable, now, as she sits there with you. Her friends are losing in the corner, but she's losing something unthinkable, and she's so damn scared the entire time it's happening.

"The stars look beautiful tonight," you whisper so only she can hear it, your voice cracking at the end. In seconds, you're gone. She can feel the life, the glorious life, evaporate from you, your head lulling back against her and your weight becoming a hundred times heavier, but she doesn't move, squeezing you against her.

She's unsure how long she stays like that, but when she can no longer take it, she shifts, laying you down on the ground. You look peaceful, looking up at the stars, and it takes an effort to close your eyes that Wednesday had never felt with the dead before. She gently closes them, shutting the door on the eyes that used to captivate her very heart. It's almost like she could convince herself that you're only resting for a moment, and she leans over you, placing a meaningful kiss upon your forehead, just like she would when she snuck out after a night of sleeping over, and there were no prying eyes there to watch.

"Vibrant and whole," she whispers like a promise, turning back to the fight with a piece of the sword in her shaking fists. "For you, cara mia."

===+++===

well that was sad... anyways more happy stuff coming next time

[leighsartworks216]

Love Me, That's All I Ask Of You

Sylus x gn!Reader

Apparently my brain can only cope with angst if it has a happy ending rn @comatosebunny09 YOU DID THIS (/positive)

Inspired by this post

Title from "All I Ask Of You" from Phantom of the Opera

Warnings: blood, injury, self-destructive behavior, swearing, requited unrequited love, angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, kissing, ignoring the red string of fate, jealousy, soft Sylus

Word Count: 1,900

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The repetitive thwack of the punching bag keeps you going. Harder and harder, faster, more precise.

Your knuckles are bleeding. It stains the vinyl of the bag. They sting with every slight adjustment of your hand, with every punch. They’re probably misaligned, too. On the verge of breaking. But it’s not enough.

Sweat drips down your forehead and back. You’ve been down here for hours. You don’t want to leave.

It’s so fucking childish - you know that. But it hurts so fucking bad. Hearing the way he speaks to her, like you’re not in the room. The way he seeks out the banter and teasing conversations they share. The way he looks at her…

Is the only thing you’re good for your loyalty?

And it’s not like he hasn’t noticed the way you distance yourself. He’s brought up your over-the-top silence, saying he hasn’t heard your voice in a week. He’s tried asking what’s wrong, but you never answer. And when you stopped sleeping in his room altogether? He looked exhausted the next day, staring after you like he was working to decipher why he’d been left to sleep alone. The only company you seemed to seek anymore was that of Mephisto’s.

God, Mephisto. That crow had shown you their excursion to enhance her ability. You couldn’t deny the sick satisfaction you got when she still couldn’t Resonate with him, whether it’s because she found him “disgusting” or some other reason… But why did he have to look so offended by it?

You hit the bag so hard it rips. Sand pours out of the tear like water, draining onto the floor. You’re mesmerized by it. The slight hiss of the sand moving together, pouring out like a faucet and pooling on the floor into a steadily growing pile. It’s almost soothing.

Almost.

You kick the sand to the side. It fans out across the black floor in an arc of dappled white.

The prickle at the back of your neck puts all your nerves on high alert, but you know not to be afraid of it. You know the source. The cause of all your rage. The last person you want to see right now. You’d even take Little Miss Hunter over him.

You turn and meet his eye. Crimson, sharp with concern to match the furrow in his brow. It burns through you, all too familiar and, once upon a time, comforting. When he could look at you and so easily know exactly what you were feeling, even before your deal. They flicker down to your hands, crusted over with blood.

“It’s not like you to hide away when something bothers you,” he states, shifting his weight to his other foot as he crosses his arms. He’s right, too; for a while now, if something - anything - bugged you, he was the first to know, usually seconds after it started grating on your nerves. Still, you don’t say anything.

Sylus sighs. You’re nothing if not stubbornly persistent. He holds a hand out, motioning toward your own.

You think about obeying. Ever since Little Miss appeared, you haven’t really touched him. It was of your own volition - a sacrifice to pull yourself away and watch from afar - but you can’t deny how much you miss it.

His frown deepens when you stay exactly where you are. “So it’s something I’ve done.” Your face remains set and unemotive. His hand returns to its crossed position, finger tapping against his leather jacket. “Something so terrible you’d rather hide away from me.”

He looks you up and down, studying every small tell he can find, any twitch or involuntary muscle spasm. He doesn’t find any. Another frustrating skill of yours. The only thing he can latch onto is the state of your hands. He’s not used to seeing your own blood staining your knuckles. If you used your bare hands at all, the only blood you’d be covered in when all was said and done was that of your prey.

“And enough to harm yourself.”

He meets your eyes again. It almost feels familiar. That intense insistence on knowing you, on wanting to know every single thing about you even if it takes eons. But now it’s not out of an innate desire to unravel the secrets you wrap yourself in. It’s prying. It’s grabbing bolt cutters and breaking away each chain link one by one.

He takes a slow step forward, testing the waters.

You don’t move.

He takes another, dropping his arms to his side.

You study him in return. He’s tense. You see it in the set of his shoulders.

He’s five feet away when Mephisto appears in a whirl of smoke on your shoulder. He caws twice before projecting a video on a little holographic screen.

Little Miss Hunter, searching for the brooch. Yesterday, Mephisto had snuck it off Sylus’s body and brought it to you. You’d had a brief moment of fun teasing Little Miss with it, silently taunting her as you twirled it lazily between your fingers while she threatened you. You have no doubt after hiding it that it found its way back to Sylus.

You watch his face as he watches the screen. The intensity leaves his eyes, replaced with the calculating stare of a businessman in his trade. He watches her frustratedly try to break the lock on a cabinet, determined to check behind every item on display to make absolutely sure the brooch isn’t hiding behind them. When she turns to the bookshelf in a huff, she pauses. Sylus’s eyes narrow a fraction. She runs over to the shelf and starts emptying it out book by book, fanning through pages for any sign of a secret compartment to hide something inside. There was one book of such a nature; you’d hid the brooch inside of it, just to see if she would be hell-bent enough to search through every single one.

He looks away from the projected images, eyes softer than before. He’s figured you out, you’re sure of it.

“Search me,” he says. It’s not a demand, it’s an offer. Your expression falters for a millisecond, but he catches it. Of course he catches it. He opens his arms, inviting you in. Mephisto’s video feed disappears from view as he flies up to sit on the broken punching bag. “Find the brooch.”

You glance him up and down. There are plenty of places for something that small to hide.

Hesitantly, you step forward. His eyes follow you, but he remains still. This close, you refuse to look at his face. You haven’t been near enough to feel his radiating heat like this in so long…

You feel his sides first. The pockets of his leather jacket, both inside and out, are empty. There’s nothing concealed in his waistband. You don’t look at his face as you reach up to feel along his collar and lapels.

You pat along the length of both his arms. Aside from muscle, you find nothing. You reach into his pants pockets, but the only thing you pull out is his phone. You slip it back in before feeling down the long length of his legs. You pull up the bottom hem of his pants and check the top of his socks that peek out of his shoes, but there’s still nothing there.

You stand up, hands falling back to your sides. You meet his eyes. He doesn’t have the brooch.

Mephisto caws again. You turn to look over your shoulder. Little Miss Hunter, surrounded by a pile of books, triumphantly holds up the red-jeweled brooch, dropping the book you hid it in into the mess. Gentle fingers glide along your jaw to turn your face back to him.

Sylus looks at you in a way you never thought you’d see again. He’s leaned down to reduce the strain on his neck and be closer to you, but there’s still about a foot of distance between you. Even the way he touches you is reserved, like he’s waiting for you to pull away or punch him.

“I’m sorry.”

Your breath hitches. He… apologized? Of all the things he could have said, you never expected that.

“Whatever binds me to her,” he whispers, “it holds nothing to you. I should have made that clear much sooner.”

“What binds you to her?” Your voice is raspy from disuse. His shoulders relax, just so relieved that you’re speaking to him again.

He shakes his head slightly. “A past I should have buried a long time ago.”

It’s vague, he knows it. You wish he would tell you more, tell you exactly what happened that has him so inextricably connected to Little Miss Hunter. But he never pried into your own past, for better or worse. Maybe you both need them to die, buried at least 12 feet under and covered with a block of cement.

You lift your hand to trace his cheek. He sighs, leaning into the touch. Your fingers are rough and cracked, blood drying on your knuckles. The copper twang is hard to miss. He turns his head to kiss your palm, eyes closing in reverence. You fully cup his cheek and draw him in, kissing him softly at first.

Your lips tremble with overwhelming emotion. The anger that burns in your heart is slowly snuffed out by the soothing balm of his quiet sigh, a hushed whisper of your real name, not your moniker. You wonder for the first time since this began if he felt the same loss you did when you began distancing yourself from him. When you went back to your old room instead of sleeping in his bed, if he looked so tired the next night because he couldn’t sleep at all without you there beside him.

You get your answer in the way he desperately pulls you into kiss after kiss, burning with passion and trying to catch up for the time lost. In the way his hands hold your face, tangling with the hairs at the back of your neck as he keeps you close. In the way he sighs and gasps so longingly, savoring everything you give him.

He feels how much you missed him in much the same way. In the way you step closer until your bodies are pressed together. In the way you grab onto his jacket’s lapel. In the way you dig your bloody fingers in his white hair.

You’re both panting when he finally pulls away, breaths mixing in the centimeters between your faces as he refuses to move back any farther, forehead resting insistently against yours. Neither of you say anything for a moment, basking together in the quiet aftermath of the storm.

His hand is warm and gentle when he pulls yours from his hair. He turns it over to press featherlight kisses along your busted up knuckles. “Let’s take care of you, sweetheart, hm?” His eyes are half-lidded with affection when he looks at you. “The auction is tomorrow night. I need to show everyone just who I belong to.”

Your heart skips in your chest as you draw him in again by his leather jacket, biting down sharply on his lower lip. He hisses at the sting, but groans with want when you pull away. His eyes are drawn to his blood on your lips. “I’ll make sure they never forget.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021

[bethanydelleman]

Something about how Emma Woodhouse must feel a kinship with Frank Churchill because both of them have a sick relation that they must care for that restricts their ability to enjoy their own life, only for her to realize that Frank doesn't take this responsibility very seriously at all, has been everywhere that Emma has longed to go, and that he resents his aunt for the (lesser) restriction, which Emma never does with her father.

Something about how Frank Churchill hides his engagement from his aunt and uncle because he knows they will disapprove but he does it anyway, while Emma tells her father about her engagement right away and considers his feelings above her own, even to the point that she accepts that her wedding will have to be delayed indefinitely.

Something about how Frank Churchill will not do his duty to his father until he has something to gain by it (seeing Jane) while Emma sacrifices her happiness, time, and energy again and again without complaint to the care of her father.

Something about how on the surface, Frank Churchill and Emma Woodhouse seem very similar, but they are nothing alike.

[kiwriteswords]

KiWritesWords Masterlist

Last Updated: December 10th, 2024 *phew* Most Stories Also Posted to: AO3 Tag List Requests: Currently Open!

*: Includes Smut, 18+ Themes, NSFW, Etc.

Birthday Revelations [Aaron Hotchner x Derek's Sister!Fem!Reader]

Summary: Reader is Derek's Sister, but despite dating Hotch, nobody has caught up on the connection...until now!

I Promise You This* [Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader]

Summary: Y/N, the newest and youngest profiler in the BAU, is haunted by her past—an abusive relationship and an illness she keeps hidden from her team. Though skilled in her work, she distances herself emotionally, fearing vulnerability. Aaron Hotchner, her reserved and perceptive boss, begins to notice the cracks in her carefully constructed walls as they navigate high-stakes cases together. 

Chapters: 3/45

A Gentle Beginning* [Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Female!Reader]

Summary: In the quiet safety of Aaron Hotchner's arms, you take a vulnerable step into uncharted territory, finding solace in his patient tenderness. 

Balances of Trust [Aaron Hotchner x Wealthy!Female!Reader]

Summary: When you and Aaron Hotchner decide to open a joint bank account, it feels like a simple next step in your relationship. 

Exposed*[Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Female!Reader]

Summary: Drabble prompt: "Getting undressed in front of each other for the first time."

A Leap of Trust [Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader]

Summary: Drabble about "Discussing things that set themselves up to be hurt and trusting that the other won't take advantage of it."

I find myself runnin’ home to your sweet nothings [Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader]

Summary: After sneaking away from the intensity of the BAU for a quiet afternoon at a cozy café, you and Aaron Hotchner finally find a moment to relax. 

The Weight of Mistakes [Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader]

Summary: In the midst of a high-stakes case, tensions run high when a small mistake nearly derails the BAU's progress. The shy reader feels the weight of her error, fearing she has disappointed Hotch and the team. 

In The Quiet* [Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader]

Summary: Drabble Prompt: "Discussions of kinks that they're embarrassed/self-conscious of”

The Fear of Falling [Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader]

Summary: When a routine case leaves you critically injured, Hotch is forced to confront the depth of his feelings. As he anxiously waits by your side, fearing the worst, Hotch realizes that losing you would break him in ways he never expected.

If Every Word I Said, Could Make You Laugh, I'd Talk Forever [Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader]

Summary: Drabble of Reader and Hotch getting engaged

And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like, “I love you.” [Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader]

Summary: Five times you were shy around Aaron Hotchner because of your underlying feelings for him + one time, Aaron Hotchner was shy around you because of his underlying feelings for you.

Between Almost and Always *[Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader]

Summary: As fate and duty continue to intervene, Hotch's silent sacrifices and your unrelenting hope create a tension that neither time nor distance can dissolve, leaving you both to wonder if love will ever break through the almosts and become an always.

If put to the test, would you step back from the line of fire?* [Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader]

Summary: New to the BAU, you quickly find yourself at odds with the unit’s stoic leader, Aaron Hotchner. What starts as a clash of wills and a battle of stubbornness soon transforms into a connection neither of you anticipated. With each case you work, your fire-fueled banter and undeniable tension grow, challenging your carefully constructed walls. As you both navigate the line between professional rivals and something more, you’re forced to confront the truth you’ve been hiding—from each other and yourselves. In a world where control is your armor, letting someone in could be the biggest risk you’ve ever taken.

You showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else [Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader]

Summary:  In the midst of an already stressful workweek, you notice a troubling shift in Aaron Hotchner’s behavior. Once warm and attentive, Aaron has grown distant, leaving you questioning what went wrong. As you try to navigate his sudden coldness, a casual conversation with JJ and Penelope might hold the key—one you didn’t realize Aaron overheard. The revelation sends Aaron spiraling into insecurity, causing him to pull away, leaving you in the dark. Now, with your relationship hanging in the balance, you must figure out what’s troubling Aaron before it’s too late. Can you bridge the gap between you, or will unspoken fears drive you apart?

Professional Distractions [Aaron Hotchner x Secretary!Fem!Reader]

Summary:  Aaron Hotchner thrives on control, order, and precision in both his work and personal life. But when a new secretary is assigned to his team, Hotch finds himself facing a different kind of challenge. 

Tonight, you're on my mind, so you'll never know...* [Aaron Hotchner x Old Friend!Female Reader]

Summary: Years have passed since you and Aaron Hotchner first crossed paths, but the connection you shared has never truly faded. In the wake of personal loss and career demands, your lives have taken different directions, leaving unresolved feelings and unspoken words lingering in the background. 

Chapters: 2/4 or 5

Wicked Game Series Masterlist* [Aaron Hotchner x Flirty!Fem!Reader]

Series Summary: You’re a former profiler who returns to the BAU after years in academia, reigniting a charged and complicated dynamic with Aaron Hotchner. Bold, brazen, and unafraid to push his buttons, you challenge Hotch’s usual control and professionalism, making him confront emotions he’s long buried.

A Quiet Kind of Care [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader on her period]

Summary: After a long, grueling day on a case, you push through your discomfort to keep up with the team, all while secretly dating Aaron Hotchner. 

The Girl Next Door* [Aaron Hotchner x Age-Gap!Neighbor!Fem!Reader]

Summary: When you move into your new apartment, the last thing Aaron Hotchner expects is for his quiet, orderly life to be disrupted by his intriguing new neighbor. 

Unveiled [Aaron Hotchner x Secret Relationship with Fem!Reader]

Summary: You and Aaron Hotchner have always been experts at keeping work and personal life separate—so much so that the team doesn’t even know you’re together, let alone married.

Something to be Thankful For [Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader on Thanksgiving]

Summary: When you accept an unexpected Thanksgiving invitation from Aaron Hotchner and his son Jack, a simple holiday dinner becomes something more. 

The Beauty and The Boss* [Aaron Hotchner x Bombshell Reader] 

Summary: Aaron Hotchner’s professionalism hides a secret: he’s been in a relationship with you, the stunning agent who turns every head at Quantico. 

All is Bright [Aaron Hotchner x Grumpy!Fem!Reader]

Summary: When the BAU gathers for Rossi’s annual Christmas party, you’re determined to survive the night with your grumpy demeanor firmly intact.

Sweet Beginnings* [Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Reader]

Summary: Aaron Hotchner wasn’t one to indulge in leisurely distractions, but a small coffee shop called Sweet Beginnings—and its gentle, shy owner—quickly became a quiet escape from his chaotic life.

I love you in a place where there’s no space or time* [Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader]

Summary: Aaron Hotchner has always been a man of order and control, carefully compartmentalizing the demands of his work and personal life. But when a long-standing partnership with a member of his team—you—begins to blur the lines between professional and personal, he’s forced to confront feelings he’s buried for years.

Something in the Way She Moves *[Jealous!Aaron Hotchner x Bombshell!Fem!Reader]

Summary: As the new section chief of the BAU, you’re determined to lead with professionalism—despite an undeniable connection with Aaron Hotchner, the stoic unit chief who understands you like no one else. When your growing romance draws scrutiny from the Bureau and threatens both your careers, breaking things off feels like the only choice. But resisting your feelings is easier said than done, and navigating the fallout proves more complicated—and personal—than either of you anticipated.

Shades of Stubble [Bearded!Hotch x Shy!Fem!Reader]

Summary: When Aaron Hotchner returns to the BAU sporting a beard after a rare week off, it draws more attention than he expects—especially from you, the shy but perceptive team member whose lingering glances reveal more than you realize.

It’s a Wonderful Life* [Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader]

Summary: Based off of the 1946 movie, It’s a Wonderful Life

In the Margin [Aaron Hotchner x Bombshell!Fem!Reader]

Summary: Aaron Hotchner’s weekly budget meetings with you, the sharp-tongued BAU financial analyst, become an unexpected mix of humor, wit, and simmering tension as professional boundaries blur. Between team antics, Penelope’s creative expenses, and your playful challenges, Hotch finds himself navigating far more than just numbers.

[wandasaura]

EVEN STATUES CRUMBLE

summary — when exhaustion creeps up on you after a long week, you find yourself coming undone quickly. luckily, maria’s there to hold you close and put all of your broken pieces back together

warning(s) — hurt/comfort, elements of fluff, domestic maria hill, platonic blackhill, brief mentions of battle, civilian casualties, and death, sleepy natasha being a softie, maria fixing all of your problems because that’s just what she does

The keycard attached to the waistband of your pants got you into pretty much anywhere aboard the helicarrier; one of the very few perks that came with being a Level Ten agent alongside Nicholas J. Fury. You adored your livelihood, that wasn’t even a question you graveled over on your busiest days – you wouldn’t sacrifice so many nights if you didn’t – however, with being so high on the ladder of ranks came the inevitable burnout when paperwork and mission reports piled up; which they inevitably always did despite your meticulous schedule and borderline obsessive work ethic. You delegated the workload of ten other agents on the daily, usually without so much as breaking a sweat, but a particular mission report from a Level Six had gotten to you in a moment of exhaustion. 

Your boots were the same Shield issued footwear that everyone else wore around the helicarrier, clunky and steel toed with near indestructible black laces, but your footsteps were light as you padded down the dimly lit hallway toward an office you’d practically adopted as your own since the director had found himself another right-hand woman. There was no point in knocking when you reached it after what felt like hours of slowly trudging down void hallways, you were the only one with clearance to enter without being physically let in, other than Fury himself, but he’d never turn up to her office, especially not so late into the night. The soft glow of a desk lamp creeping beneath the crack in the door alerted you of life inside the spacious room, and a faint smile pulled at your lips despite your exhaustion and wary emotions. 

A small light on the side of the metal door flashed green for only a millisecond before it faded and the latch clicked tellingly. You bristled at the assault of frigid air that swept past you when you pushed inside tiredly, but steeled your expressions quickly when your eyes trailed over the room and noted not one, but two bodies. A displeased huff fell off of your lips when you noticed Maria behind her desk, a mountain of paperwork practically hiding her from view entirely, and Natasha sprawled out on her couch with a solemn glaze over her green eyes. 

“She’s in my spot.” You sighed, no real malice behind your words, but exhaustion put a damper on your typically lightspoken banter with the redhead. It seems both you and Natasha, a woman that had somehow wormed her way into the heart of the Deputy Director despite her bloodied past, had sought refuge in Maria’s quiet presence tonight, and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about it. You held nothing against the reformed assassin, she’d seen you at some of your worst moments, but you’d been holding out hope that a few stolen minutes with Maria alone would heal the ache you carried deep. 

Natasha, who was always quick with her wit, didn’t seem to have it in her either, and softly she allowed her voice to break the silence that had been light over the office prior to your entrance. “I can leave.” You shook your head dismissively, kicking the door closed behind you in favor of stalking over to Maria’s desk. 

Out of habit, the Commander tilted her screen away from your gaze, her dark yet meticulously kept eyebrows furrowing as you came behind her desk without hesitation. “I’m higher clearance than you, and Natasha’s been able to see everything you're doing from the couch, Ria.” You rolled your eyes fondly, hands bracing themselves on the back of her chair that you pulled away from the desk without taking her responsibilities into account. She had the same deadlines as you, only hers weren’t so structured and rigorous. You knew that anything she was doing could wait until morning, even if she liked to be overly prepared and considered anything but early a direct hit to her reputation. “Just hold me.” 

You fell into her lap without another word, curling up against her battered and stiff uniform that had definitely seen better days. Your head tucked itself into the pocket of darkness and warmth between her chin and shoulder, your fingers already working at the hair tie around her thin chestnut strands, wanting them free from the confines of her tightly secured bun. With the black elastic around your wrist, you sighed contently, absentmindedly pulling your fingers through the loose knots that had formed from your ungraceful removal of her hair tie. It was an apologetic gesture, the tips of your fingers soothing the skin of her scalp that had definitely been snagged with your quick movements, but Maria had become accustomed to your endearing quirks that almost always followed a vicious panic attack. 

“Romanoff, if you move from that couch, I will have you on Clint clean-up duty for the rest of the month.” Even if you couldn’t see the Russian from behind your eyelids, even if you were pressed so tightly against Maria’s neck that even with open eyes all you’d see was darkness, your body could practically feel her silent movements. It was a valid response, however you held her to a higher standard than you did other agents. Your girlfriend trusted her with her life, you’d made something of a friend out of her since her first year at Shield, it was slightly insulting that she thought she had to flee at the first sight of vulnerability from you. “I just… I just need a minute.” 

Even as you tried to pull rank, tried to command her obedience, Natasha could tell that your heart wasn’t in it. Whether to humor you, or simply because she didn’t really want to retreat to her own quarters, she sank into the couch once more, throwing her arm over her eyes as she succumbed to the same darkness that you sought out. A shaky breath fell off your lips when Maria’s thumbs dug into your shoulder blades, applying pressure to all of the knots and tension that had accumulated over the grueling week. You’d been unintentionally ghosting her, although neither of you really counted missed lunch dates and empty beds to mean anything significant, but the premise was all the same, even if she held no resentment toward your work ethic that was too similar to her own. 

“Diaz?” Maria’s voice was soft, understanding even, as she asked. Even the name of the agent had you going rigid in her clutches, a choked whimper falling off of your lips as you tightened your grip on her hair and worked feverishly to weave little braids into the silky chestnut strands that could do for a wash and deep condition. You’d have to remember to remind her next time she had a slow morning, but that wasn’t coming anytime soon for either of you. 

You nodded wordlessly against her neck, pinching your eyes shut even tighter if that was at all possible. You loved your job, adored the livelihood that you’d found a family in, but no amount of experience made reading civilian death counts easier. No amount of experience made loss any lighter. “Seventeen, Ria. Seventeen people died. It just– I haven’t seen a civilian death count that high since Sokovia.” 

In retrospect, seventeen people wasn’t a lot, not when you put it up against the battle of Sokovia that had earned Shield another foreign agent and an inconsolable migraine for months to follow, but when you analyzed the mission objective, when you stripped back everything that it was up against, it was still seventeen innocent people that had been caught in the crossfire. “We can’t save them all, mi alma.” It was a weak condolence, Maria knew that, but it was what you needed to hear, even if you detested it. Shield had saved twenty from a Hydra base in Madripoor, all of them no older than nineteen years old, but still seventeen people that were in the wrong place at the wrong time had died. Shield had saved twenty children, but still parents, and siblings, and people had lost their lives to do so. Was any good really done if the children who got to go home didn’t have a mother to help them through the trauma? Had any good really been done if a daughter didn’t have a father to come home to? 

“Eleven.” To Natasha, the number that fell off your lips was entirely random, but for Maria, who knew everything about you, down to the way you liked to tie your shoes, always starting with the left one first, it meant something more. Eleven people had died in an ambush the night that Nicholas J. Fury had swept you away from the rubble and into the empire that hadn’t been so publicly known at the time. Eleven people that you’d known, some loosely and some deeply intimately. Your single mother that had worked four jobs just to keep the electric on in the biting cold of winter had died, and you’d held her hand as she took her final breath, entirely helpless and terrified. Seventeen people had died in Madripoor, and depressingly, you could only picture yourself in the aftermath of such a tragedy. 

How many kids were going to come home from school without a parent? How many parents were going to come home from work without a child? The guilt of surviving weighed heavily on your heart, but it was exhaustion that pushed you past the point of thinking rationally. Madripoor had sung its praises to Shield after the initial battle just under a month ago. You’d seen the headlines, manned the press conferences, talked with the families that had wanted to reach out, but seeing that number in pristine black ink had rattled you fiercely. 

“When’s the last time you slept, bebé?” The softly spoken pet name was usually enough to bring a smile to your face no matter the conditions you faced, but it only had you sinking deeper into Maria now. Your heart felt so heavy in your chest, your bones felt so dense in your body, everything that you’d been managing had finally crushed you; just like the rubble had crushed your mother’s unsuspecting body on a side street in Manhattan when all she’d wanted to do was show you her new favorite coffee shop. 

“Don’t know… the last time I came home?” Your voice was meek, distant as you trailed through your memory trying to locate the date in your mind. You’d been home that Wednesday night, sank into bed beside Maria and held her close until she’d gotten up for her own shift, and had continued to sleep for another two hours before sunlight brought on more assignments and deadlines, but that was so fuzzy now, so long ago. You barely knew the date, but Maria did, and she sighed softly in confirmation. 

“It’s Friday, sweetheart.” She informed, her thumbs still digging into the spots of tension in your back, working out the knots and kinks that had you stiff beneath her touch. “You’re exhausted.” 

“And you’re not? I check the entry logs, Ria.” Your defiance was softly muttered, and Maria sighed her resignation. She hadn’t been home either, not since Thursday morning when she’d slipped out of your arms and left you to rest a while longer in a stiff bed dressed in scratchy sheets, but she’d taken the breaks she knew her body needed, even if it had been begrudgingly. The couch that Natasha was draped across had seen a similar form from her multiple times since then, even if the longest consecutive rest she’d gotten was merely half an hour. That was the difference between you both. Maria knew when she had to come first, even if she often waited until the very last second to actually step away from her tasks. You, on the other hand, saw everything else as a priority. That was what got you so high on the ranking ladder. That characteristic was one of many reasons why you alone shared the same ranking level as Fury. When shit needed to be done, he knew that you’d do it, no questions asked. But that blindsided work-ethic was going to kill you eventually. 

“You’ve slept once in the last week, mi amor.” Maria sighed, knowing that she was arguing with a wall at this point, but willing to put the effort in anyways. She was always willing to put the effort in for you, even if you couldn’t do it for yourself. Her hands caressed your back affectionately, slipping away from your shoulder blades only to put pressure on your spine, cracking the bones and notches in your back soothingly without spoken word. You sighed, deflating in her lap once again, craning your neck only to release some of the ache and tension in your jaw before you burrowed into her neck once more, still keeping fistfulls of her soft hair between your fingers that had been stained black from smudged ink. 

At some point, you must’ve fallen asleep against her, never slackening your grip on her chestnut tresses but grabbing onto the neckline of her uniform at an undisclosed moment. She hadn’t tried to move you, hadn’t tried to wake you, hadn’t tried to move at all. She’d simply sat in the silence of her office with Natasha’s easy company, shuffling through paperwork and mission reports, but getting no real work done, distracted by your warmth against her chest and the weight of you draped across her lap for the first time in days. When you woke a handful of hours later, the warmth of the sun and the light of a new day rousing you from an uneventful sleep – the level of exhaustion you faced preventing dreams from even playing out – you didn’t stiffen in alarmed surprise when you realized that strong arms were looped around your waist and keeping you steadily upright. Maria was a distinguishable presence even when you were half delirious, and a warm smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you laid a gentle kiss to the neglected patch of skin behind her earring-less earlobe. She really needed to start wearing her cartilage cuffs again, but the last one you’d gotten for her had been lost to a bloodied battle in Argentina. You made the mental note to get her another one sometime soon, but for now, you simply basked in the presence of her company that was so painfully warm and inviting. 

“You had Romanoff on edge last night.” Maria mused, her fingers tightening around your waist in a sweet wordless greeting, prematurely ending the reign of silence that you’d been enjoying, but you didn’t complain. The sound of her voice was just as inviting, if not more intoxicating than silence ever could be. 

“Even statues crumble every now and again.” You huffed against her neck, tightening your grip on her uniform if that was at all possible, allowing your gentle fingers to tickle the skin hidden from view that still carried the lingering scent of your body wash. “She’ll get over it.” 

“You really have to stop referring to yourself as a statue. The rookies are going to start thinking an alien attack sucked the emotions out of your body..” She chortled, breathy laughter twinged with traces of mental exhaustion jostling both of your bodies, and you couldn’t help the smile that twisted your dehydrated lips upward involuntarily in response. How you could spend so many days away from her never made sense when you were wrapped up in her presence, but it was reassuring to know that no matter the length of time that separated your passionate love, she would always be there to crawl home to. 

“As soon as you stop feeding into being called Hard-Ass Hill, I’ll stop fucking with the rookies.” Another chaste kiss was laid onto her skin, the second in too many days to count, but you’d make up for your absence before you inevitably returned to your own office to continue drowning in paperwork that never ended. “Te amo tanto.” You signed your unarguable admiration, but she wouldn’t be Maria Hill if she didn’t have a sharp comeback to silence your efforts. 

“Te amo mucho mas, mi alma.”

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby (part 4)

alastor w/ angel daughter reader

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

(requested tags: @insomniacfigure @pooplyface1423 @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @maliciousmace @nevermorekisses @wildfire153)

(thanks to my amazing editor for helping me with this chapter!! @kruncher mwa mwa! /p)

It's been half a month, and you still aren't sure if you really wanna do this.

Sure you have done your research on spells, blessings, everything to protect yourself and maybe even others while venturing into Hell, possibly even in battle if you felt brave enough.

But nonetheless, it was conflicting. Not only were you going to see your father again but you're going to be literally in hell-- the terrible place was always a tempting topic to bring up in a hushed conversation, though few actually dared to do it. It's the worst place to go to after death, everyone on earth hated speaking of it and mentioning it was somewhat like a bad omen, at least from how you've seen others react to it at certain times.

Why bother diving head first into a realm where none of it’s events or residents were any of your business? The souls are in hell for certain specific reasons, so why bother saving a world that was meant to be the end of the line.

Oh but-- Charlie.

Charlie Morningstar's case and evidence sure intrigued you, but was it really worth the risk? Is it worth the sacrifice, the hiding, the possible dying to try to save a bunch of sinners? All of them, more than likely... are very much similar to, if not the same as, your father.

"Maybe..n-.." you breathed out loud, your hand moving away from under your chin as you were stuck in thought sitting at your desk. You were reluctant, of course you'd be.

You looked down at your bag on the floor beside your desk, filled with supplies and necessities for venturing into hell-- you planned it out but-- was it really.. Do these sinners truly deserve to be saved? Helped?

Why, of course they do.

At the very least.. some of them. 

Those who genuinely want redemption and those who committed sins in which they had no choice before they died or to help others. Those are the ones who should be saved.

And from what you learned in the court trial exactly half a month ago, you could only imagine how many sinners Adam and his fleet of Exorcists slayed that were genuinely hoping for a better chance at this 'second' life.

Besides-- why not save lives? Even if they weren't worth saving, even if you didn't know them personally or at all. Isn't that why you got into heaven anyway? Because you sacrificed yourself for someone you didn't know in the slightest?

You died for that reason, what's so wrong in doing it a second time?

Besides, souls like that one sinner Charlie showed the court, Angel Dust, could be on the path to light and eternal paradise... you could almost feel it in your bones and you bet Emily did too.

Wait, that's right--

Emily!

You could have almost jumped from your seat, Emily was the key to your path to Hell! But how to get to her-- Sera was always around..

Oh-- No, no, this is too good.

Ever since the court day Emily has been getting a bit more distant from Sera, if you could find Emily alone once without any inclination you were seeking her out then you could do it! Convincing shouldn't be too hard, she feels the same way as you do in a certain way.

You've been so caught up in your plan to escape disguised as an exorcist that you couldn't see the answer right in front of you! All those weeks wasted-- the initial plan was bound to fail anyway no matter the amount of preparation since, according to your research, the exorcist angels were scattered everywhere in their HQ like a beehive swarm; like busy bees buzzing with bloodlust. They seemed to all recognize each other and have specific physical attributes that you lacked immensely, even if you were to try and steal a uniform you really couldn't because-- you didn't know where they kept them inside.

You took in a deep breath in and out, 'I'm definitely not coming back unscathed..' you thought 'but.. everyone deserves a second chance, even sinners. And if they really don't deserve it then might as well save them so that they may continue living out their eternal sentences with no easy way out.'

You then looked towards a corner of your desk, grabbing a small and recent photo you took with someone very dear to you. You smiled softly at it before letting out a gentle huff of confidence and then carefully stuffing that photo in your bag for your trip to hell.

You then grabbed your bag, put it over your shoulder, and carefully walked out of your home.

It was currently early night in heaven, the sky as always was filled with stars that glow immensely so that heaven is never in utter darkness. At this time of the evening everyone was home and getting ready for bed, shops closing, people walking home. Thankfully you've hung around Emily long enough to know that when she's bothered by something, she doesn't go to sleep easily till she can fix it, and from what you knew the extermination in hell was still going to happen. 

Your wings started to gently flap and as quietly as they could they flew you up to the home quarters of Emily and Sera, them owning a taller building than the ordinary 'winner' would have considering their higher statuses.

It wasn't that hard to fly by since there was no need for security or guards, heaven never exactly needed to be protected from the inside.

You made your way around a high up balcony, one that you knew led to Emily's quarters. You noticed the balcony doors closed but light flickered from within; she's in there.

Your feet carefully plopped themselves on the balcony, nervously lifting your hand to knock on it-- still hesitant.

'Do I really want to do this?' 

It was too late to even ask that now, for your hand already knocked on the glass surface of the balcony door, breath hitched-- you awaited an answer.

...

The sound of pitter pattering steps could be heard from the inside as they neared where you were standing, a figure approached you from behind the glass.

Emily!

You smiled and waved at her awkwardly as she looked at you with a mix of shock, joy, and exhaustion. She opened the door to you with anticipation.

"______! How are you!... wait-- what are you doing here? It's late, you should be at home.."

"Look Emily," you said breathlessly due to your anxiety. "There's no easy way to say this but I need a huge favor from you.. bigger than anything I could ever ask for and will ever ask for. Not only that but- I'm sure you'll believe in my cause.."

She hummed in thought, eyes narrowed at you in an attempt to see if she should listen to her head or heart. "I'm listening..."

You then nodded towards the inside of her room, silently asking if you could go inside so no prying ears could hear you, even if it's unlikely. She read the words in your expression as she nodded and welcomed you in, closing the door behind her carefully.

You started whispering, "I need you to teleport me into hell."

Emily's breathing scuffled a bit, absolutely shocked from your request. "Hell??.. but why?.. ______ you nor I have ever been to hell!.. you could get really hurt or worse die..!" she whisper-yelled in concern to one of her best friends.

"Well-- we aren't sure if they can truly kill angels but I've practiced a few spells to try to defend myself. You know I'm a lot faster with my wings and if I find Charlie I'm sure she'll keep me from getting hurt!.."

"Charlie?.." she asked, now fully remembering what happened on that fateful court day "Wait, you want to go to hell to see Charlie?"

You nodded, "I have to, it's the only way I can survive there. Besides, I need to help her.. you know that what Adam and Sera are letting happen is unjust and inhumane.. you and I both know and agree about this and you can help me by sending me down there."

"but.. _____ I--"

"Emily, the extermination is going to happen in less than a month now.. there's no time left to leave this in the air."

"______.. are you even sure you'll survive a second down there? how do you even know you need to be there, if you really want to help you can try and stay up here where it's safe--"

You let out a quick sigh of fear, afraid that she's getting cold feet "C'mon.. even with your influence Adam won't stop and neither has Sera ordered him to pause for even a moment.. Besides, if they need to have sinners show their improvement and actually redeem themselves.. they need someone who actually has been in heaven and knows how to get there. 

They need a role-model, an example, and I'm willing to help and sacrifice myself a second time to at least give other people a second chance at 'living'.

This time, you shut Emily up, she's speechless-- you truly took her breath away with how determined you were. You were right to some extent, help from a 'winner' for sinners, become just like them as a teacher and be an example could genuinely make much improvement and possibly open the case once more. 

She softly smiled at you, a small amount of pride swelling in her chest, pride that she has for you and hope that she has in your mission.

"Well.. I'll take you there but not without one thing--" she stepped closer to you and folded three fingers of her right hand, then crossed you with them in an all too familiar pattern. Right shoulder, left shoulder, forehead, chest. The sign of the Cross. A sudden glow shined from you for a split second as if a star bursted around you,

"A protection spell. To protect you from the strongest blow that encounters itself towards you, it only works once but it's the strongest spell I know that can be an extra safety net for you down there.. meanwhile I'll try my best to convince Sera to think differently about the genocides.."

"Oh.. thank you Ems!.." you hugged her and she hugged back tightly, both of you guys brimming in a flurry of hope, determination, and anxiety. "I won't let you down.. I promise when I come back, and I will, Adam won't need to kill anymore people with his exorcists anymore.."

"Just-- be careful, _____. You're one of a kind, no one helps and brightens things up like you do.." she backed away from the hug only to hold your hands and smile at you, conflicted but convinced by you.

"Promise. I'll be back before you know it."

"Pinky.. promise?" she took out her pinky finger for you to hold onto, to reassure her that she's making the right decision. Helping you.. she doesn't want to lose you by sending you down your death sentence.

"Hehe.. pinky promise." you took out your own pinky finger to wrap it around hers, another spark lighting up around your wrapped fingers as if sealing the deal.

"Good.. once again are you sure you're prepared??.." she couldn't help but ask-- she didn't want to lose her best friend..

"I'm ready to face what I have to face, ready as I'll ever be." you let out a shaky sigh, betraying you slightly.

Emily let out a shaky sigh of her own before stepping back and slowly summoning a portal, it starting from a little glow in the air to slowly trying to mass itself into your height and size so you may go through with ease. It was difficult since it was mostly Sera or Adam opening them with constant ease and she never really had to until now, unfortunately though.. it was starting to make noise.

You hold your bag as tightly as you could, double checking if all the zippers are closed before preparing yourself for the even growing yellow portal.

"I don't know exactly where the Hazbin Hotel is so-- be... be careful _____.."

You looked at her and nodded with confidence, a look of strength emitting from your face. 

There was shuffling from the hallway outside Emily's room, "Emily? What are you doing at this time of the night?" Sera could be heard from afar, her voice loudly echoing across and even through the closed doors. 

Emily sped through her magic as she used as much of her mental strength as she could to open up the portal, it shouldn't be that hard but-- she never had to do this, she never thought she would do this. She was only in charge of keeping you happy-- but if this were to make you happy, then she's obliged to do so.

The portal was finally big enough for you to enter through, both of you hearing loud oncoming steps coming from outside the halls and in a quick motion you waved at Emily with a smile, her doing the same thing before finally-- you jumped into hell.

Right as you disappeared into the yellow and gold void, she let herself go from holding it open and right as Sera was opening the door, without even knocking mind you, the portal disappeared from thin air and all that was left was Emily standing in the middle.

"What are you even doing?.." asked Sera looking puzzled.

Emily chuckled nervously, shrugging her shoulders "Practicing for next show's fireworks..? heh.."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You on the other hand-- were being slammed against a hard metal surface that smelled like rotten flesh and food, dried blood, and other stinky items. Hitting your head against it causes you to groan in pain and slowly hold your head, the smell beside you slowly making you feel a bit sick.

Your halo, clattering to the ground, its glow still present on it.. confirming your status to still be an angel. 

"Fuck.." you mumbled, rubbing the back of your head while picking yourself up from the ground. Looking at your surroundings you were in a sort of alley, the metal surface being a large dumpster. Your wings flapped a bit to stretch them out from the hit you took. 

You look at your halo and feel a huge sigh of relief get out of your mouth, despite knowing that only becoming a fallen could only happen if the court officially banishes you from heaven from all you knew it still felt good to know you're still the same you. Besides, you didn't know if a winner has ever become sinner before so.. that at least helped your mind keep itself from flipping over.

God..but your surroundings?

It reeked.

You peeked a bit in the dumpster out of curiosity but the intensity of the smell made you wanna puke so your nose begged you to move away. Now looking at the exit out of the alley you first picked up your halo to then place it above your head, floating above you right after letting it go. Picking up your bag once again to hold it tightly near you so no one would steal it.. being as cautious as you could.

Slowly peeking out of the alley you noticed a humble little town with colors of red, shades of pink, and filled with a few sharp toothed people. Everyone walked around casually and happily, like how normal humans would. Despite how huge the place is there seems to be a lack of crowds.. as if half of the town is missing.

Huh, this place reminded you of a sunny day in New Orleans when you were alive. Is this.. really hell? You haven't come across any people jumping out to kill you or anyone else randomly but a few explosions from far away still made you jerk from fear.

You carefully stepped out of the alley, feeling especially out of place the moment you started walking out. People with various shades of gray skin, everyone with blacked out eyes, sharp teeth, and all still dressed in clothes from around the time you died, maybe a bit of more older fashions but still.. reminded you of back home on earth just slightly.

Each step you took was a new question that you gave yourself.. where were you? is this a level or part of hell? does hell look this way all the time? is the Hazbin Hotel of walking distance? is Emily okay? why does the air smell weird? is your dad Alastor around? is it obvious im not from here-- oh of course it is you have a fucking halo damn it.

'Everyone looks almost normal," you thought 'Maybe I can try to find someone to help m--'

"Oh!.." you bumped into someone, someone small. You looked down to see a fairly normal looking child with eyes entirely blacked out, no pupils to be seen. Geez.. you couldn't lie but they creeped you out a bit.

"Hello there.. sorry I didn't see you.." you spoke to the kid despite how weary you were, giving it an apologetic smile while waving a little towards them in a very awkward manner.

They spoke nothing but instead flashed you a large sharp toothed smile that made your blood curl a bit, what made it worse was what it did next.

"It's okay missy! I like your wings!" Normally you'd smile more and make small talk but-- then the kid took out a cut off hand from behind their back and started chomping it on it as if it was corn on the cob. With your skin crawling and your face as white as a sheet from the shock, the kid then proceeded to run off nibbling on the bleeding hand.

You stood there frozen, your stomach begging to release anything you ate before you came upon here. You slowly turned your head to the right, your peripheral vision noticing a large wooden sign.

'Welcome to Cannibal Town!'

'Well that.. really explains it.' you took a few deep breaths as you tried to control yourself and your upcoming panic as to not alert other cannibals of your fear.. but you could've sworn they could probably smell it off of you.

Would they eat you? Are they going to eat you?.. but some have been looking at you walking by-- are they getting ready to pounce on you, bite off your flesh and--

You stopped in your tracks, noticing how further you are in the town from all your overthinking. You looked up to see that you are at the front steps of a small stage?.. gazebo..? you couldn't remember how hard your heart was pounding.

All of a sudden you felt an incredibly sharp pain on your wing, one that made you shriek aloud and everyone suddenly stopped and stared at you. You turned to see an old lady with a cane looking very similar to other residents around you-- BITE your wing?? what the actual living fuck??

The old woman seemed to grin and licking the golden blood from the bite she got from your wings, fortunately for you she only bit and didn't actually get a chunk of your wing off instead.. either way it fucking stung the way a large wasp sting would.

"Angel wings.. not bad at all-- OUCH!!" The old lady then let out a shriek herself, being hit by the end of a sun umbrella this time and whoever was holding it was shooing her away from you.

"Shoo! Shoo! Susan!! Run off now! We don't bite new otherworldly guests like that!" The voice shouted before the old woman scurried off just as fast as she came. 

You whimpered a bit as your bitten and slightly bleeding wing leaned towards your hands, your palms and fingers then gently caressing them as an attempt to soothe the pain with tears brimming and silently sliding down your eyes.

"Oh I'm so sorry about that sweetheart, that old hag has no manners." The same voice, a woman's voice, called out to you. Her appearance also looks similar to everyone else, the only difference is her large hat decorated with elaborate feathers and adorned with a small skull. 

"Let me see that dear.." she leaned in with her hand reaching towards your wing but of course you flinched away from her, absolutely not trusting her in the slightest form your first terrible experience and the many words of others before you.

You looked at her with fear you've never felt before, fear that you haven't felt since your death. You quickly backed away, your injured wing cowering towards your hands and chest.

'Holy.. fuck..'

"The names Rosie, sweetheart, what's a pretty little thing like you walking around here with no sense of danger?"

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Alastor held you in his arms as your nine year old self was fiddling with a toy in your hands after a long day of being taken care of by one of Alastor's lady friends. The man was coming out of work from hosting his famous radio show as he usually always did and now was entering his home after a tiring day from work and honestly he wasn't up for taking care of you right now. If anything he should've probably let you stay with the woman forever and he wouldn't have to be dealing with baby troubles..

Yet everyday you somehow always gave him a reason to keep you despite his almost heartless nature.

He walked in his home and closed the door behind him, locking it as well. Walking over to the sofa he turned on a nearby lamp before setting you down on the cushions and let you be in your own world while he then went to go eat something himself. You didn't have to since the woman that babysat fed you quite well and you liked what she gave so there was no need for you to be overfed.

Alastor went to prepare a meal for himself, not saying much to you in the process since all he wanted was to eat and sleep so better to just fill one of the boxes on that checklist as soon as possible. So while you were still distracted he quickly made himself a meal and started eating so he wouldn't starve before bed.

You were playing with your toy the nice lady gave you, mumbling small nonsense here and there while playing around. Until you decided to speak up loudly from afar,

"Papa, can I ask something?" you talked as you kept yourself entertained with your toy.

Alastor sighed a bit "Yes dear, what is it?" exhaustion evident on his voice that contracted to his permanent smile, be it small or big.

"Is it true that when you found me, my mama and papa didn't want me because I was an ugly and loud cry-baby?"

Alastor almost spit out his food, inevitably starting choking on it. Saving himself from dying of choking by drinking his drink he set with his food and calmed down. "W.. Why do you think that sweetheart? Who told you such an untrue lie!.." 

In truth, he didn't actually know why you were abandoned in that alley. All he found when he picked you up was you wrapped around in baby blankets in a basket and a note with a date on it, most likely your date of birth, but other than that he never knew why you ended up there and why. He simply just took you in and called you his own.

"The boys in the playground I played with said their mamas and papas knew you, and knew you found me. They then started saying I dress too girly and that my real mama and papa left me because I was ugly and a loud cry baby and that's why I don't have a mama and papa." Your little voice seemed to shake a bit but obviously tried your best to hide it away even at this young of an age.

But your father could see and hear right through you. 

Alastor sighed before taking one last spoonful of his food before leaving his meal there to walk towards you, settling himself on the same sofa you both always make the best of memories, this being one of them.

"Well darling, those boys obviously have parents who don't educate them! And are as dull as a doorknob if they say all that foolish nonsense.. you do have a mama and papa!"

You looked at him incredibly confused, since when did you have a mother?

He noticed this and laughed a bit at your expression "Silly, I'm your mama and papa! I do both jobs! I make you food, I have clothes for you, I give you a home, I get you ready for school, I talk to you all the time because you're mine!" He spoke cheerily, as if stating a very well known fact "Their eyes also must not be working also since I think I got the prettiest daughter in all of New Orleans if I do say so myself!" he pinched your cheek playfully, making you giggle. 

He continued on "Yes, you did indeed cry a lot as a small tiny baby but do you think I would've kept you if you were an enormous crybaby? Of course not! Which is why I still have you here with me." Alastor-- "And you dress too girly??.. why, but of course you'll dress the way you do.. you're my little girl! how will my little dove be able to shine in her natural beauty if she doesn't wear the most marvelous pieces of wardrobe I can get her!" He then continued to pinch both your cheeks at the same time, some of your cute baby fat still present on your face despite being a year behind in heading towards the double digits. 

You giggled and laughed loudly, smiling.. just the way you should always be.

Yes he was too tired for this, he was downright exhausted, but hey-- if he can keep an unfaltering smile despite feeling this then of course he can keep up with you even if he's not in the mood. You're the only person who he doesn't like to see in pain, in tears-- 

It's his job to do this, for what is he if he leaves you wilting by yourself with no 'light' of your own to guide you.

Certainly, he wouldn't even deserve to be called your father.

"Oh and dear?"

"Yes papa!"

"What are the boys' names? And their parents? I must have a little chat with them soon!..."

Oh, Alastor.