#a very stereotypical drawing of this pair but I love it!

[sugawhaaa]

☆-TXT headcanons-☆

Cock description

Warning/genre:: SMUT...that's about it 🤡

Pairing:: ot5 x gn!reader

A/N:: not me trying to lure in moas to reply to my most recent posts 🤭 I need answers brooo. But I do really like this 🍗

Soobin

He may be a little on the short side but he makes up for it with his width. He's pretty much the same size all the way through and hear me out, he's uncut. Idk why but that's just the way it is. He's decently proud of his "package" but he would never really do anything to "show it off" however he does accidentally.

He gets boners all the time for either no reason or because he feels the slightest little bit turned on and that boner will hang around for way longer than it needs to. Therefore it can be hard to ignore sometimes which is not a problem for him...he loves to palm himself in his sweatpants and pajamas. He'd stare at you from across the room as he rubs his balls and squeezes his cock until you notice him 😵‍💫

Yeonjun

Yeonjun has a very stereotypical dick, not too long, not too thick, nice and colorful but not overkill. For Yeonjun it's definitely more about how he uses his cock and he knows how to. After having sex, like twice, he figured out all the things you loved about his body including specifically what on his cock, then he used that knowledge to his advantage.

The way the veins throbbed in his cock so he'd always make you lick the veins or trace the head of his cock. Another key thing with Yeonjun is he uses his cock in kind of a forceful way, especially blowjobs which almost makes it seem like his cock is more intense/impressive than it really is.

Beomgyu

Beomgyus never really thought about his cock much, it's just another part of him in his mind. He also has quite the stereotypical dick except he's a bit longer than your average joe...like a lot. Beomgyu never really understood the appeal of cockworshipping type stuff until you rolled around. The way you play with the base, trace the veins with your tongue, and rub those plump little lips all over his girth made him realize...he's a sucker for this.

Beomgyu has many different sides to his sex life, a little brat, lazy sex, dominant, and a big whiny baby. Usually sex with change with him depending on his mood but blowjobs and handjobs always stay the same. He loves being worshipped with words and hands.

Taehyun

Taehyun is decently proud of what's in his pants, though he can get quite shy. He'd rather people focus on his abs or arms so when his lovely partner starts to draw attention to his cock he gets nervous. I imagine taehyuns cock to be very pigmented and the type to instantly get sprung ykw I mean? Like he sees you lick your lips, stretch, or expose your cleavage and he's fighting his body to stay calm.

For taehyun though it's more about how he uses his cock but the slight curl to his length proves useful to rub against your G-Spot. Also, this is a weird take, but his cock would look so good when he cums 😫 the way it twitches with each spurt of cum 🥴

Kai

Listen. This boy is packing. He may be a little baby girl but he's got one nice cock. Nice and long but thick as well, a beautiful harmony of features. I feel like he gets wet quite quickly, his body produces liquids fast so he cums generally fast and never needs lube 🙏 in my mind I can see him being both uncut or cut so you can use your imagination with that part. One thing is for sure though, all the way from the base to the tip he's got a nice width to stretch you out nice and wide.

I think he also has a bit of curl and lots of veins, very texture overall.

[secondshark]

Older amebel illust!

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[livinginshambles]

I thought you'd be different | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: A cinderella story (maybe a little romeo and juliet while we're at it) but Hogwarts - Enemies-ish to lovers. You find an enchanted parchment through wich you anonymously talk to a stranger (James). When you meet him at the Yule ball, he is not who you expected, but you give him a chance. When you realise that was clearly a mistake, you flee cinderella style.

Probably part one of two again.

Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Discrimination issues, themes of bullying. Regulus is our friend. James is an idiot, but we knew that already. Sirius sucks.

Masterlist. Part two. Part three

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

You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory. That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you close your eyes.

“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what your sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.

“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.

But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.

You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments. A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.

“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard. “Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”

“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eye roll, but seemed unphased.

“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step. “10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you pettily decided.

“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” With a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.

When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.

You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.

James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner. He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air.

James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl, crying on a bench under the tree appeared.

James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams. Credits to Professor McGonagall, who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.

It’s beautiful.

You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.

Thank you, I’ve been dreaming about this for the past two days.

You frowned at yourself, unsure why you would disclose such information, but figured no one would be able to trace this back to you anyway.

James blinked at the response he got, mouth open in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. It must simply be a spell of some sort after all. He stared at the sad drawing and the sentence, and then he made up his mind, writing back.

It must be lonely for that girl to cry by herself under the weeping willow.

Your eyes followed the words that formed in a trance.

If she ever feels lonely again, she can always pour her heart out on this parchment. I’ll be the mighty guardian wizard that will make all her worries magically disappear.

A grateful smile made its way up your face and when you scribbled back a response, James couldn’t help but smile as well.

Maybe she will.

You doodled a wizard sitting on the bench next to the crying girl, a consoling hand stretched out.

That's how you became James’ best kept secret. He learned that you were indeed a student at Hogwarts, but that you felt lonely. That you enjoyed butterbeer, but never got to enjoy it on a Hogsmeade outing with friends, because you rarely had any. He learned that you felt inferior to your siblings and a disappointment to your parents. He noticed how you would draw a circle as the dot on your ‘i’ and learned, when he asked, that you did that because you had once seen Professor McGonagall do that when you were in your first year, and had practiced mimicking her handwriting, should it ever come in handy.

In return, he had told you that he felt pressured by the reputation that he had to maintain. He loved Quidditch and absolutely despised Ancient Runes, to which you had replied, “who doesn’t?”. He told you that he had illegally learned to become an Animagus, a stag, and that he wasn’t sure yet what the future would hold for him. He even revealed to you that he desperately wants to protect his friends and sometimes had nightmares, which usually resulted in a sneak around the castle at midnight. When you had asked him if he’d ever been caught, he responded with, “never”, and had explained to you that he had an invisibility cloak.

Two months passed and before you knew it, you were explaining Transfiguration through the enchanted parchment. You did conclude from this that your pen pal was most likely in a year or two higher than yourself but decided not to comment on it. James on the other hand, was under the assumption that you must be from his year, as you managed to help him study for his exams.

But now, it was almost 12 o’clock midnight, and James chewed his lip while he looked at the parchment. He hesitated for a moment. Then he decided to ask you the one question he had been yearning to know the answer to.

Who are you?

You looked at the paper sadly, and sighed.

You’d be disappointed.

I understand if you don’t want to reveal yourself. But know that I could never be disappointed by you, Willow.

James sighed when you didn’t answer anymore. He waved away the light that emitted from the tip of his wand and took his glasses off. He went to put the parchment under his pillow as usual, when he saw the scribbling movement that he’d gotten so accustomed to.

He scrambled to grab his wand to shed light on the paper but accidentally nudged them off the nightstand and onto the floor, where it rolled under his bed. James’ eyes flickered back to the paper in his hand, and he managed to catch the first letter of your name as it was written in capital letters.

But your cursive handwriting, the dark and lack of glasses made it impossible to read the rest of your name. When he finally reached his wand and put on his glasses, he heard the clock strike twelve and he cursed as he grasped the parchment tightly, hurried ‘lumos’ and saw that the parchment had reset itself to a blank page again, just as every night at 12 o’clock at midnight.

Wait, please! I didn’t catch it before it erased itself. Please write it again?

You let out a sigh in relief after you had internally bashed your head against a wall.

No, it was stupid of me. I’m glad you didn’t see it.

You leaned back into your armchair with a racing heart. You couldn’t believe you had done that.

“Regulus,” you acknowledged as you pulled the chair back to sit next to him in the library. “Y/N,” Regulus quietly responded without looking up from his book, and if you didn’t know any better, his straight face would indicate annoyance. Luckily, you did know better.

“You smile any brighter, the sorting hat will transfer you to Hufflepuff, you know,” you teased him.

His face distorted in a grimace and without missing a beat, he replied, “do kill me before such a thing occurs.” You shook your head and finally sat down. Then you pursed your lips in thought.

“You know how I’ve been working all summer to earn galleons?”

“No.”

“Well I did.”

“So it seems.”

“Anyway, I rented a small flat,” you blurted out. Regulus finally looked up at you, surprise almost evident on his face. Then again, you didn’t have the most amazing home situation either. You often opted to stay behind at Hogwarts for the holidays. It is how you two had befriended each other, especially ever since Sirius left him to his own devices at home. Parents, it was a trauma bonding thing.

“Congratulations,” he nodded, his voice trailed off as he tried to see how this would concern him.

“So I thought you might want to stay with me over the Christmas holidays? Your mother doesn’t hate me, so I thought it might be possible. Gives you a chance to get out once in a while.” You tentatively brought up the sensitive subject.

“And what makes you think living with you will be any more bearable than living in my own mansion?” Regulus snarkily remarked.

You squinted your eyes at him in a scowl. “A simple ��no’ would suffice don’t you think?”

“Do I have to pay rent?”

“Depends on whether or not the answer impacts your decision.”

“So not then.”

You huffed.

“Fine, I suppose I could join you in your small flat.”

“Merlin, don’t go doing me any favors Reg, I wouldn’t want to owe you.”

Regulus shook his head in amusement.

Satisfied with your rather successful attempt to invite him over, you got up. The chair you sat on screeched loudly as it was being pushed back. You could feel the librarian’s furious eyes on your back and rolled your eyes at her as you made your way to the door. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” you waved your hand in the air and exited the room.

You made it approximately two steps when you spotted your sisters again. “Of course you would cause a disturbance in the library,” Marla spat at you. You raised your eyebrows but remained unimpressed.

“I see you’ve got your buddies to back you up now?” you commented and tilted your chin slightly upwards. Your eyes flickered to your other sister, their closest friends, and the marauders.

For a moment, you considered walking away, but there was just something about that twitching lip of your sister that had you irked.

You stepped forward, narrowing the gap between you and your sister. You leaned in slightly and then, “Boo.”

It took your other sister, Alyssa about one second to have her wand pulled out and pointed at your throat.

James watched the interaction with a small frown on his face. He didn’t really speak with the fellow Gryffindor twins, but their friends and Lily were friends, so the marauders had joined them on their way towards the courtyard.

His mind flickered to a conversation he had had with ‘Willow’ about her sisters, and he wondered if you felt the same sadness and inferiority as his pen pal. And with that in mind, he pulled Alyssa back by her robe with one harm, the other lowering her raised wand.

“Let’s not,” he shrugged, when she raised her brows in question at him.

“She clearly threatened my sister,” Alyssa defended.

You scoffed at that. “I said ‘boo’. That’s hardly a threat,” you rolled your eyes and glanced at James who tried to offer you something that resembled a smile.

Was he mocking you? “Fancy yourself a hero, don’t you, Potter.”

“Hey, I was just trying to help,” he raised his hands in defense.

“Cause you’re such a good soul,” you sarcastically remarked.

“Yeah, actually. At least better than you. That hostility is so uncalled for,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, and you shot him a glare. “Right, better than me. Let me ask the two-dozen tormented Slytherin students you’ve bullied this past year. Bet Snape will buy your self-proclaimed ‘kindness’.”

You were already walking away when Sirius opened his mouth to call something out to you, but James kicked his shins in attempt to shut him up. Your words resonated in his mind.

Maybe he was a twat.

Am I a twat?

What the bloody hell are you on about?

Someone called me a twat today. Now that wasn’t necessarily true, but the implications were there.

Did you deserve it?

Sort of.

Sort of?

I mean, I am only an asshole to people who are assholes themselves and deserve it. But I guess that makes me an asshole too.

You hesitated for a moment and decided to write your opinion on the matter.

Maybe you being an asshole to people makes them assholes. And then it becomes a vicious circle. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that bogger.

You reckon?

Wouldn’t have written it down if I didn’t.

On a brighter note, do you have a date for the Yule ball after the exams?

If you’re asking me out, I already promised my friend that we’d go together.

Oh right. But would you save me a dance? Maybe at midnight under the main crystal chandelier?

James bit his lip again in suspense. The Yule ball is a masked ball anyways, if you don’t want to reveal yourself.

Midnight, main crystal chandelier. You decided to leave it at that. Besides. You could enchant the mask a little extra, so you’d be even more unrecognizable. You wondered who would be behind the kind words of the parchment.

It felt strange to you. Really looking forward to something to the point you could feel jitters in your stomach in anticipation. But it was having a certain effect on you that even the younger Black couldn’t help but miss.

Regulus squinted his eyes and moved his jaw in thought. When he had had enough, he pulled you aside.

“Out with it.”

You deflated. You knew that he knew what he was talking about, so you shrugged. “Someone asked me to save a dance next week,” you mumbled.

“And you want to?” Regulus’ tone shifted to an incredulous one.

“I found an enchanted parchment in the room of requirements and it’s connected. I’ve been using it to have conversations with a mystery person.”

It felt great to be able to share this with your friend and you leaned against the wall behind you. “So yeah.” You finished the confession with an awkward hand gesture.

Regulus took a moment to register what you said. And then, as if it was the most normal thing ever, he responded with, “I see. And you have no idea who?”

You let yourself slide down the wall and tiredly put your head on your propped up knees. “Probably a Gryffindor.”

Regulus started laughing. You snapped your head up and scowled at him, not that he was used to anything else from you.

“As long as it’s not a mudbl-“

You kicked his legs and made him lose his balance. You shot him a warning glance. “You know my opinion on that.”

Regulus sighed. You had once confided in him about your home situation, including that time when you had overheard your parents argue when you came home for the first time after having been sorted into Slytherin. Your father had addressed the matter as soon as you walked through the door.

“You’re no daughter of mine.” He had said with disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t meant as a figurative insult. It was a statement. Your father believed that you could simply not biologically be his daughter. The words had you avert your eyes to the floor in shame.

“My entire bloodline has been sorted into Gryffindor.” He had looked at your mother. “Your family does have Slytherins. She’s most likely the result of your affair with that muggle a decade ago. It is possible.” And just like that, he had practically disowned you.

“Okay,” Regulus relented. “We’ll see who it is next week.”

James was nervously looking around, standing partnerless in the middle of the dancefloor. He had long forgone the mask that he had chosen because it prevented him from using his glasses. He looked at the great clock just above the table with drinks and pulled a hand through his hair.

It was time, so where were you? Hopefully you hadn’t chickened out yet because he was absolutely dying to meet you.

There was just something about you. It sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt since Lily. He’d look forward to your messages all the time. Every morning, he practically jumped up in anticipation and excitement as he reached under his pillow to read your ‘good morning’ message for the day. A smile would pass his lips each time.

James was ripped from his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder blade. It tapped twice. He stopped breathing for a moment before turning around. And then the breath was knocked out of both of you completely.

For two different reasons.

James stared in awe at you. You wore a white and silver dress, covered in diamonds. A delicate white mask covered the upper part of your face, and he stared intently at your eyes, but somehow, he still couldn’t pinpoint who you were.

He could see all of your features clearly, but as if he was in a dream, he somehow couldn’t piece everything together to identify you. A charm, he realized. He was disappointed but shook it off. If you felt insecure, then he wouldn’t push it.

James’ face broke out in a grin, and he stepped forward. He couldn’t help but reach out to your face. But you took a step back. His hand fell and he frowned at your reaction, suddenly scared. He wasn’t wearing a mask after all. Compared to you, he was completely vulnerable.

Before he could say anything, you cut him to it. “No,” you hoarsely managed. “This was a mistake.” You turned around and escaped from the center of the dancefloor. James chased you.

“Wait, please. I’m sorry!” He called out after you.

You slowed your pace when you reached the corner next to the staircase. Then you shook your head with a sight, and you pinched your nose. James could see your furrowed brows.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. But my intention wasn’t to dance with James Potter. It was a mistake. Sorry for wasting your time.”

James shook his head in his turn. “Don’t say that,” his eyes pleaded. “So you know who I am. Am I..” He hesitated. “Am I that bad? I don’t know if you’ve heard any rumors about me, or what made you have a bad impression of me, but I’m the one you’ve been talking to for the past months.” He looked at you desperately. “Give me a chance, please. I only ask for a dance.”

Your eyes flickered over his sad face. You knew James from all the pranks that he did, mostly committed towards your house. You knew him from the banters you had with him, and from crying students that you undid hexes for. You knew him from pushing him out of the way as he purposely blocked your path to throw insults at you.

But you also knew the boy from the enchanted paper. The one who listened to all your worries. Who offered advice and indulged into your hopes and dreams for the future. You knew the boy who confided in you all his deepest secrets and own insecurities. Who made your day and cheered you up with his jokes and positivity.

“I can give you a dance,” you caved, and you offered him your hand, which he scrambled to hold.

James was a fairly decent dance partner, you soon discovered as he guided you with grace. “So I suppose you dance often?”

“I just practiced a lot,” he sheepishly admitted. “I had to impress you somehow, you know. Someone like you had to be crazy out of my league after all.”

Your lips twitched. “I think you’ve got it all backwards, Potter.”

“You know you can call me James, right?”

“Well, James,” you enunciated his name. It felt weird on your tongue. You had only ever spoken his last name in contempt. “I’m not very liked by more than half the students of this castle.” You motioned towards your mask. “Hence the enchantment,” you added halfheartedly.

“You don’t have to tell me who you are,” James immediately assured you, and you did relax at his words. “I’m just really happy that you’re real.”

You let out a laugh. “Why would I not be real?”

“I don’t know,” James whined. “Maybe I was just talking to really sentient paper or something?”

His answer only made you laugh more. James’ grin only spread wider.

“Whoever you are, I wouldn’t judge you,” James added quietly. You watched him silently as you swayed around the room.

“That’d be a first,” you joked sadly, remembering your own family.

“What can I say, I’m just different,” James cheekily winked and then twirled you around.

“We’ll see about that, James. You have the rest of the night to convince me.”

The dance ended and you curtsied to each other, out of breath. “But you’ll have to excuse me while I go find a bench because my feet are killing me. These heels are no joke,” you groaned in pain and sort of started to limp your way back.

James quickly came to support you and held your waist as he escorted you back to the side of the room. When you discovered that there were not in fact any benches, you sat down on the first few steps of the staircase. He raised his eyebrows when you kicked off your heels and saw that the entire slipper was made of glass.

“I transfigured those shoes myself, you know,” you proudly stated. James looked at it in disbelief. “This can carry a human weight?”

“Yeah, it took a lot of different enchantments and attempts,” you admitted.

James’ disbelief changed to awe. He took a seat next to you and you two started chatting about random things. You looked at James’ profile as he talked about Quidditch and felt soft towards him. Maybe he really wasn’t so bad after all.

The two of you were deep into a conversation when you were interrupted .

“Who is this, Prongs?” Sirius curiously stepped forward and shook your hand. You couldn’t help but grimace at him.

You politely nodded and explained the situation, but even though you engaged into a civil, nonchalant conversation, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the presence of James’ friends.

“Anyways,” Sirius leans in towards James. “Did you see Snape over there?” He nodded his head towards Snape, and you squinted your eyes at the boy in front of you.

“You’re not thinking of doing anything to him, are you,” you sharply asked. Both James and Sirius were taken aback by your new tone.

“Nothing harmful,” Sirius laughed, but it faded when you simply raised your eyebrows at him. Sirius looked towards James for help. James hesitated. He had been reluctant to indulge Sirius’ ideas ever since his conversation with you about being a twat. But Sirius was his friend.

“We’re just having a bit of fun,” James tried to explain. “We’re just joking around, besides, he’s in Slytherin, so definitely a blood supremacist.” Your face fell at his words.

You watched his features contort in disgust and suddenly you were eleven again, and all you could see was your sisters disgusted face.

By the time you had snapped out of it, Sirius was already making his way towards Snape. James had gotten up and his head flickered between you and his friend.

You got up as well.

“I really thought you’d be different, James.” You scoffed to yourself. “You really had me convinced there for a moment. But I understand that you’re really just a bully after all, blinded by prejudice. You really are a twat.”

James’ heart dropped at hearing you say those words. He felt ashamed and shook his head pleadingly as he searched for words. But the thing is, you couldn’t care less, because you were hurt too. So you turned around and fled up the stairs as fast as you could, just in case he would come after you.

“Hey Prongs, you coming or not?” Sirius called out. James looked back at Sirius as he contemplated his next move. He mouthed ‘no’, and then tried to run after you. But by the time he reached the hallway that you had disappeared to, you were nowhere in sight.

In denial, James ran towards the moving staircases and looked up, in hopes to find you there.

Had he looked down, maybe he would have caught the last shimmer of reflection of the diamonds on your dress.

James refused to give up, however and he started to knock on the paintings, hoping that they could tell him where you went. He just had to apologize.

A symphony of protests and yelling echoed within the hall. “Quiet you!” “Have you no respect for the sleeping?” “I will complain to Filch about this, young man!” “Leave us alone!”

When the voices resided, most portraits were empty, their contents having escaped elsewhere.

Defeated, James groaned and hit his head with his fists. “You stupid git!” he yelled out in frustration at himself. James slouched down to sit on the stairs. Then he reached for the parchment and a pen in the inner pocket of his jacket and started scrambling something down.

“Please answer,” he whispered. He almost had to laugh at how pathetic he must look.

You sat on your bed after having made your way to the Slytherin dorms.

I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I said that. I’m stupid and I ruined everything. Please let me make it up to you. I enjoy being with you, I don’t want you to think of me like this.

 Like I said before, this was clearly a mistake.

James read your words over and over again and he buried his face in his hands in shame. He stayed there for a long while and by the time he returned to the room, the party was over, and people had started returning to bed. On the left side of the staircase were your enchanted glass slippers precisely where you’d kicked the off and left them.

Preview of part two

Part two

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[prentissluvr]

take my breath away — sam winchester

pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : angst, hurt/comfort, fluff ➖⟢ cw : features dean x reader (platonic), near death experience, suffocation, other canon violence and death, injuries, blood mention, swearing, so much pining, case fic, stereotypical witch, (not) unrequited love, petty fights/arguments, petty sam, kissing, crying, guilt, reader vaguely implied to be shorter than sam, pet names, food mentions, (baby, honey - from sam, darlin'/kiddo from dean), no use of y/n, mentions of end of season 2-4 spoilers, poorly edited, lmk if i missed something! ➖⟢ wc : 13.7K summary : because of an unexpected witch's curse, it's almost too late for you and sam to confess your feelings to each other.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

you see sam when it rains. even if he’s sitting right in front of you, you’ll look out the car window and at the rivulets of water rushing down the glass, distorting the image of an empty highway and summer-time trees at dusk, and you’ll see him at seventeen with rain in his hair and running down his cheeks. you’ll think of that smile he gave you as he took your hand and how that look he had in his eyes haunts you worse than any ghost you’ve seen, because you think it could’ve been love. sometimes, you’ll still see glimpses of that sam, but he can be rare. so, you go as far to wonder if maybe he still looks at you like that when your gaze is turned away. 

once, when the windows were down and he was sitting in the back with you for a change, the spring air was nice and clean as it filtered into the sometimes stuffy car, and you felt his multicolor gaze watching you. the look on his face changed when you locked eyes, but for an imagined moment, it seemed that you—your eyes closed against the wind and a light smile on your face that, for once, wasn’t grim—were his everything.

you press your temple to the cold glass of the window, hoping it’ll sober you up a little from your love-drunk state. it’s so goddamn stupid that you’re even thinking about him like this right now, because he’s still sort of mad at you for something rash you did during your last hunt. only you don’t think it was stupid, so you’re half pissed that he won’t let it go. staring at the back of his head and the pretty curled ends of his hair, you sigh quietly. even his shoulders rising up past the seat are handsome. you miss him, and he’s close enough to reach out and touch.

dean’s voice breaks your reverie, and you have to draw in a deep breath. without you even noticing, thinking about sam so hard makes you breathless, almost every time.

“so, why don’t you give us the full rundown, sammy? ‘fore either of you decide to conk out on me,” dean suggests. that means he’s bored, because neither of you will fall asleep for at least another hour or two, and you’ll probably take your turn driving for a few soon.

“sure,” sam agrees, and you hear the shuffle of papers as he digs out a newspaper article and some notes. “three people in the last three weeks all died from suffocation, but with no apparent cause. they just,” sam’s shoulders move a little as he motions vaguely with his hands, “stopped breathing.”

“sounds witchy to me,” dean says, very predictably. you think you could’ve said those exact words at the exact same time if you wanted to tease him about it.

“yeah. what’s weird is that the vics were reported feeling out of breath up to 16 hours before they actually died. says it looks like they slowly died from oxygen deprivation,” sam adds.

“huh. so not hex bags, but another sort of spell?” you wonder aloud, easily talking about the case despite the remainders of tension between you and sam. that’s just how it is, with all of you. even when you’re mad, you still work the case.

“most likely,” sam agrees, “the vics went about their days pretty much normally until they died, so they were in different places as they were dying. seems like a hex bag wouldn’t work unless it was on them the whole time.” you nod, and though he’s not turned around to look at you, you’re sure he knows anyway.

“alright, well. looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” dean states, “we’ll be in town in the morning, so we’ll rest up real quick then head to the police station. you two can do your interviewing magic with the vic’s families and hopefully we’ll know more by then.”

this was easily predicted as well. for as long as you’ve been able to pass as an fbi agent, he’s mostly left interviewing the families to you and sam since the two of you tend to be more socially appropriate, and thus, more able to get information without raising alarms. though, the questions you ask never cease to be weird and confusing to the world’s oblivious civilians. of course, dean makes exceptions for pretty girls who he can flirt his way into telling him just about anything. this time, you wish dean would make an exception because it kills you that you and sam aren’t getting along perfectly right now. you know that you’ll work it out soon, probably within the week, but you still hate it.

through the impala’s windows, you watch the sky turn dark and the moon come out. you drive, then fall asleep to the rumble of the engine for a few hours, and wake to see the sky turn light again. keeping it all to yourself, you revel in the sunrise and the way it turns the sky bright and the clouds cotton candy pink around the edges. 

you sink into the sight of sam sleeping in front of you, the early morning light kissing his features and shining through his mousy brown hair. if you lean a little to the left, you can soak up the image of his softly closed eyes, the mole by his nose, and the relaxed curve of his lips. you smile to yourself at the way his hair is all messed up on the side of his head that’s resting against the window until you catch dean’s gaze on you through the rearview mirror. you tear your gaze from both brothers and latch it to the moving countryside out the window. for a while now, you’ve figured there’s no way dean doesn’t see that you’re in love with his brother, but despite such, he doesn’t say much outside of lightheartedly teasing for the both of you. he’s the only one who knows that sam looks at you just like that when you’re the one who’s asleep. he’s the one who sees sam turn, trying to be subtle, just to look at the way the moonlight kisses your lips, wishing it was him.

it’s eight in the morning when you pull up to the first motel you see. you wished sam hadn’t woken up on his own half an hour ago. that way, you could’ve put your hand on his shoulder, shaken him all soft and gentle like you do just for him, and mumbled, “wake up, sammy. we’re here.” then he’d stir, still sweet-looking from sleep and give you a little smile if he’d managed to dream without nightmares before remembering he’s supposed to still be upset with you.

instead, he’s fully awake when he climbs out of the car and pops your door open like he does every time you can’t beat him to it. he doesn’t talk about that habit, because he knows you can take care of it yourself. but if it’s so easy for him to do it as you grab your bag, then he thinks there’s no harm. besides, you’ve never told him off for it, so he does that and just about any other little thing he can get away with for you. and much to your chagrin, he still does it all when he’s pissed at you. he’s too good like that, even if you think he should just get over what happened a few days ago.

the three of you are just about wordless as you check in and pile into the room, all tired and without anything of importance to say. when you catch sight of the couch in the room, you sigh in relief. it would’ve been sam’s turn to share the bed, and you’re not sure you could do that this time around. sometimes it’s hard to breathe when he’s right there, so close after you’ve spent literal hours in the car just plain old pining over him. so, you find an extra sheet in the closet and steal a pillow from dean’s bed, all but collapsing onto the couch with a morning-time “goodnight.”

you don’t care that your feet hang over the edge unless you curl up or mind the way the springs dig into the flesh of your side, all you want is to welcome quick sleep. you’re lucky, and drift off moments later. you barely have time to think about how glad you are that you won’t have one of your nights where you lay awake, staring at the ceiling as you wonder why you would fall in love with someone you can’t have. him and dean are all you have, and no matter how your heart aches to pull sam close, you’d never do anything to jeopordize what you have, here and now. he’s your best friend, that’s all you can ask for in this life, maybe even more than you should.

waking as you normally do to the sounds of sam and dean moving about the motel room, you sit up, a little groggy. you glance at the clock, and you’ve slept for about four hours, just as predicted.

“up ‘n at ‘em,” dean says as he walks past you, giving you a playful clap on the back.

“mhmm,” is all you respond with, swinging your legs off the couch and digging through your bag for your pant suit and toothbrush. dean’s already in his, and sam’s brushing his teeth in the bathroom, still in his tshirt and jeans from yesterday. you don’t even have to say a word for sam to move out of the bathroom as you approach. so he won’t have to wait with a mouth full of tooth-paste and spit for you too long, you change quickly, leaving your clothes on the bathroom floor and opening the door for sam as you begin to brush your own teeth. the two of you maneuver around the cramped space with practiced ease, and when he’s done, he disappears back into the bedroom space without a word. when he’s petty to other people, you think it’s kind of hot. but when he does it to you, it makes you want to ring his neck. 

“asshole,” you mumble to yourself. it’s a classic tango between the two of you; you want him to just get over it, and he wants you to admit that he’s right, or the other way around. and both of you are far too stubborn to be the one to relent first, so you’ll be pissy at each other for a few days until you get bored of it or dean gets too annoyed. all it takes to get past it is you putting your head in his lap after a long day, maybe him resting his head on your shoulder, or the two of you laughing too hard over something together to keep being mad, and maybe just a few mumbled apologies from the both of you. if it’s really big enough for none of those things to work, then you talk about it until things are okay again.

dean drops you off at the first victim’s house, with the promise that the second is close enough to walk to, and the third he’ll join you for once he’s done at the coroner’s office.

sam still won’t talk to you as you wait on the front porch of the house after ringing the doorbell. a young woman opens the door, probably around your own age, and you smile at her before flashing your badge.

“hi. i’m agent green. this is my partner, agent smith. we’re looking for natalie goh?” you greet, comfortable and at ease in your ruse.

“that’s me,” she confirms for you, sounding nice enough. “how can i help you, agents?”

“we would just like to ask a few questions about your late boyfriend, henry,” sam explains, “may we come inside?”

her face falls when he mentions her boyfriend, but she nods her head. “of course, come in.” you follow her to the living room where she motions for you to sit. “let me grab you something to drink,” she offers, disappearing into the next room before you can refuse. “is lemonade okay? my next door neighbor brought me so much when she heard about henry… you know. i can’t possibly drink it all.”

you want to say no, not wanting to make her go through the extra effort, but you accept for both you and sam out of sympathy. she sounds like she needs to keep her hands busy to distract herself. 

she sets the drinks down in front of you, asking as she sits, “what, uhm, what is the fbi’s interest in … in henry?”

“we’re investigating a few odd deaths, like your boyfriend’s, in the area,” sam explains, “now, was there anything unusual the day of or the days leading up to his death?”

“i, um, i don’t– i don’t think so, like what? and, i’m sorry, the police told me he most likely choked on something, how is that strange?” natalie frets. you glance at sam and catch him readjusting his features as a brief look of surprise crosses over his face. it makes sense that that’s what the police told her, but you hadn’t known they’d said so.

“well, natalie, the cause of his death wasn’t entirely clear, and because a few more people have died similarly since, we’re just being extra thorough,” you do your best to placate her before she starts getting too wary of you and sam. “it really could mean nothing, but it’s important for us to cover all of our bases. so, can you tell us if there was anything out of the ordinary? was he acting strange, or did you notice anything unusual around the house, like maybe cold spots or flickering lights?”

she furrows her eyebrows in confusion, “um, no. no, nothing like that. he was just being him, you know, he was such an amazing boyfriend, he made me breakfast that morning even though he said he was tired. i already told this to the police, but he sounded kind of out of breath when we called. that was the last time i talked to him,” her voice begins to tremble, so you reach out a comforting hand and place it atop hers from across the table. “i had to stay late at work, and when i got home, he was … he was gone. i found him in the kitchen.” a tear slips down her cheek, and she moves her hand away from yours to wipe it off. you shift back in your seat and glance at sam, trying to give him the hint to get moving. but, he keeps his gaze trained elsewhere.

you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, almost ready to pull the “may i use your bathroom” ruse first. it’s almost always sam who does it, and sure enough, he clears his throat to ask.

“would you mind if i used your restroom?”

“oh, sure,” she says, “there’s one by the pantry, through the kitchen and to the left.”

he stands, thanking her a bit awkwardly before disappearing through the doorway to the kitchen.

once he’s gone, you turn your attention back to natalie. “i know that this can be a difficult question, but is there anyone that comes to mind who might want to hurt henry?” absentmindedly, you take a sip of the lemonade after speaking. it’s sweet, but not too sugary. you discover that it’s just about perfect, and you can’t hold back from continually taking a few sips here and there to fight back the heat of the afternoon.

“oh, goodness, no,” she sounds horrified by that prospect, “henry was just the kindest. the best boyfriend i could ask for,” she reiterates. “you think that someone– that someone…?”

“no, no,” you lie, “there would be signs if someone else hurt him, but like i said, we just need to be completely thorough. i’m sorry to even have to ask. now, if you’re okay with it, could you tell me more about henry?”

“yes, yeah, i can do that,” she sighs in relief. it’s clear she wants to talk about him, and probably how much she misses him. you do your best to pay close attention and keep her focused on you and your questions as sam takes forever “in the bathroom.” nothing she says is very useful, it’s all about how loving and kind and just about perfect he was to her. at first, you’re able to listen without a qualm, but the more she rambles about how much she loved him, and maybe even more so how much he loved her, your mind inevitably wanders to sam. sam and your bothersome, bottomless pit of unrequited love.

you kindly cut natalie off and stand when you hear sam’s footsteps approach. “it sounds like henry was a wonderful person. i’m so sorry for your loss.” despite knowing those words don’t mean or do much, you still fill them with as much sincerity as you can. sam is at your side again. “we really appreciate you taking the time to talk to us. we’ll get out of your hair now.”

she shows you to the front door out of courtesy, and you give her one last thank you and kind smile before turning your back and heading to the sidewalk, sam just ahead of you. pushing off the ground a little harder for a few steps, you catch up to him and his long strides, unable to resist the urge to let your gaze wander to his face.

“anything?” you ask, hoping he’ll look at you too.

“nope,” he shakes his head, “no emf, no hexbags, nothing out of the ordinary.” pursing your lips, you let your gaze fall to the sidewalk ahead of you when he doesn’t make eye-contact. “anything on your end?”

“not really. she just rambled about how in love they were. said there was nothing strange about the day, or him, and that he had no enemies. she made him sound like a complete angel.” without you realizing, your lip curls a little in jealousy.

sam just huffs in response, likely bothered by the lack of information. “let’s hope we can find something about the other two.”

you repeat the ruse at the next two homes, and sam’s hopes are dashed, because by the time you, sam, and dean are back at the motel room, just about the only thing of value you bring back is a paper bag of takeout.

spread out in the room, with your respective assortments of food, notes, and computers, you share all the details you can think of to hopefully find a pattern. dean’s on his bed, sam on the couch, and you at the dingy table. the biggest discovery is on dean’s part. according to the coroner, each of the victim’s hearts had inexplicably shrunken and shriveled up. this detail was kept out of the public eye because of how strange it was; it happened after each victim died, as it very clearly did not contribute to the cause of death. that, and the coroner is absolutely stumped by how such a thing could possibly happen.

dean asks if the first two interviews were as fruitless as the last, and you sigh as you explain just how unhelpful they’d been.

“the only common threads are that they were young adults, all in a relationship, and all sounded to be just about the perfect partner,” you report. “i mean, maybe the witch is targeting people in loving relationships? jealousy? or maybe they have some sort of secret we couldn’t dig up just by interviewing. the people we talked to were obviously biased. the first victim’s girlfriend wouldn’t stop talking about how amazing he was, the second’s sister told us she was the sweetest girlfriend out there, and you heard how the third’s husband described them.”

“really?” dean asks. “i mean, yeah, i heard the last guy, but i ran into the first vic’s girlfriend’s sister at the station. she was doing something for her sister there, and she did not seem too impressed with the guy when i asked about him.”

you raise your eyebrows, about to speak again when sam beats you to it.

“so maybe we are looking for secrets. did she say what she wasn’t impressed with?” sam says just about the exact thing you were about to.

dean shrugs. “jus’ said he was sort of a lazy boyfriend. didn’t take good enough care of her or show his love all that much.”

“maybe he was cheating?” you suggest.

“maybe,” dean repeats. “how’s this? you can dig into records and see if you can find any dirt on the vics. sam, you can look for a spell that might’ve caused this, and i’ll scout out a few local places. the officer i was talking to gave me a few places the vics probably spent time at.”

“sure,” you agree, a teasing edge to your voice, “just don’t get too distracted. we all know by ‘local places’ you mean bars. no sex unless you solve the case, and if you solve the case, no sex because you have to report back to us.”

“so no sex?” he plays along, acting all offended.

“nope!” you confirm, giving a firm shake of your head. 

dean’s already on his way out the door as he chimes, “no promises!”

“seriously!” sam calls after him, “we need info!” he groans and shakes his head when the only response he gets is the shutting of the door. when he doesn’t make a snarky comment about dean to you, you clench your jaw.

“sam.” it takes a lot of willpower to sound bothered by him, rather than say his name all sweet.

“mhmm?” he’s purposely keeping his gaze on his computer and his response short.

you roll your eyes, “c’mon, can’t you just get over it? it’s not like you haven’t done stupider things to get a case done.”

since you insist on arguing about it, he lifts his gaze, looking unimpressed. “doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have done it. you almost got dean hurt.”

“and i already apologized for that!” you say indignantly, annoyed that that’s his argument. he knows full well, better than anyone, that dean can deal with a measly vamp, even if he wasn’t expecting it. “it’s not like dean can’t handle himself!”

“you should have at least run the plan by us,” he says. you roll your eyes again.

“it was a spur of the moment decision. unless you wanted me to shout it out, compromise my position, and let every single vamp in that nest know exactly what i was gonna do?” you retort. sam sighs, in the way that you can tell he knows your argument is better than his. so, you still can’t figure out why he’s still upset about it, outside of his usual stubbornness.

“it could’ve gone so wrong,” is all he can come up with, “and you know that. it was stupid, and you could’ve gotten hurt. or worse.” there it is. his voice changed when he said you could’ve gotten hurt.

it’s your turn to sigh, this time because you finally understand. it makes your heart flutter a little, and it makes you even more annoyed. “sam, i can handle myself. you know that. sure, it was kind of stupid, and not a fully thought out plan, but i had to figure out a way to get us out of there! four vamps were about to find you, so i had to distract them. easiest way was with my blood. one vamp found dean, but he handled that just as easy as he always does. i knew you’d have my back, so i let the other three come after me. and look! we’re all here, alive and kicking! this is such a stupid thing for you to get mad over.”

“it’s stupid for me to want you to be more careful?” he counters.

“sam, we have to take risks in this job, we do it all the time. that’s just how this works, what’s different about this time?” you question.

“just–” he presses his forefinger and thumb to the bridge of his nose as he tries to come up with a reason that’s good enough. a reason that’s not “i worry about you,” because that’ll make you even more angry, make it sounds like he doesn’t think you’re a good enough hunter. and he certainly can’t explain that that’s not it, he worries because the worst possible thing to him is you getting hurt. because then you’d ask why and he wouldn’t be able to tell you the truth.

��can’t we just be done with this?” you ask, and the tone of your voice is one he can’t deny. you’re upset, bothered, and tired of his pettiness. more so, you’re just plain old tired. it takes too much effort to stay upset with one another. he lets your question sit in the air for a moment longer.

“yeah,” he relents, voice quiet now. he’s holding back words, touches, feelings. he wants to tell you, “just please don’t put yourself in danger, it scares me. i get so worried. it makes me want to pull you close and protect you even though i know you don’t need it. that’s why i’m upset.” he wants to get up from the couch and set his computer across from yours, sit across from you, just so you’re a little bit closer. he wants to touch you so bad that it sort of hurts.

instead, he has to live for the relieved breath that huffs out through your nose, so quiet it couldn’t quite be counted as a sigh.

“good,” you say, voice matching his own quietness. there’s still tension hanging between you, but soon enough, it’ll dissipate altogether, and tomorrow, you’ll be back to joking with one another, brushing shoulders, and hiding how in love with each other you are. maybe he can even convince you to share his bed tonight. the couch is horridly uncomfortable.

only after you’re convinced that sam won’t be all pissy to you until the next time you find something silly to be angry about do you begin on your research. it’s just as fruitless as everything else today, and after hours searching and drawing banks, you go back to the interviews, jotting down all the details you can remember in case seeing it on paper helps something new and useful jump out at you.

all you get is a dull ringing in your ear, probably courtesy of some old motel appliance. but the ringing grows louder, and in your tired state, it becomes completely bothersome. you press your hand against your left ear—it’s loudest there—and shut your eyes. it’s been an hour or two since sam has shifted to sit across from you to escape the digging springs of the couch, so the movement catches his attention quickly.

“you alright?” he asks, already with a little pinch of his eyebrows in worry.

“yeah, ‘m fine,” you say, realizing the ringing must be the beginning of a headache, since sam can’t seem to hear it. “just a headache,” you explain.

“want me to get you some advil?” he offers.

“no, no that’s alright, i’ve got it,” you deny, but you don’t get up. your head doesn’t really hurt, and the ringing fades as fast as it appeared. you’re about to sigh in relief, when suddenly, you’re sort of breathless, and you gasp to take in air. the moment passes, and you shake your head to yourself a little. it’s weird until you remember that sam’s looking at you with that little furrow to his brow, sweet and concerned, like the last thing he wants is for you to be in pain, even if it’s just a measly headache. that look in his eyes as his gaze focuses on you and only you is certainly enough to take your breath away. it just took you by surprise this time.

“you sure you’re okay?” he asks again, worried by your gasp.

“mhmm,” you hum, trying to keep your tone light and trying not to look too hard into his pretty hazel eyes. “jus’ hurt for a second, but i think the headache’s gone away.”

“okay,” he relents, not fully convinced, but willing to take your word for it and refocus on his computer screen. you turn your own attention back to the papers in front of you, away from his face, so close that it sends your heart into wild palpitations every time your mind wanders from the case and to his presence. in other words, it happens often.

you’re determined to find something, some detail that clicks and leads you to anything important. but after another unfocused hour, your eyelids are heavy, almost as much as your head as you wish to just sink down and fall asleep right there on that little table.

“you should get some sleep,” sam says, no stranger to the way you look when you should quit being stubborn and just go to bed. and normally, you’d resist, but the idea of sleep, of closing your eyes and letting your breath even out, slow down, is far too inviting.

so, you relent, and close your laptop. “yeah,” you say as you shuffle the sheets of paper together and set them on a neat pile on top of your computer.

“take the bed, too,” he insists, “you look exhausted.”

“mm, glad to hear it,” you joke halfheartedly, “but, no, sam, that couch is too small for you. it’s small for me, even.”

“and it’s seriously uncomfortable,” he adds.

“so we’ll share. i’ll leave space for you. you should come to bed soon, too. ‘s not like we should wait up for dean,” you snicker. sam rolls his eyes, but easily agrees with your conclusion. as you settle into the covers of the motel bed, you consider waiting up for him so you can feel the dip of the bed, then the warmth that radiates off him as he lays beside you. you want to feel the brush of his long arms, the heel of his foot or nudge of his toe, sometimes you’re treated with the broad expanse of his back. but sleep claims you before you can even make the attempt.

sam’s big hand on your shoulder brings you back into consciousness, and you breathe in long and hard since it seems like you can’t quite fill your lungs. then your eyes flutter open, and sam’s figure is hovering over yours, his hand lingering, then slipping away as he sees you wake. he doesn’t stand fully upright yet, unsure if he should say something or not.

he keeps his voice low, not wanting to alert dean, who’s changing in the bathroom. “are you feeling fine?”

groggy as you sit up, you peek at the clock. 8:43. you slept through the 8:30 alarm. odd.

“uh, yeah, i’m fine,” you answer, voice gravelly from the morning’s first use, “why?”

sam shifts to sit on the bedside opposite you. “nothing just… i don’t know, you were just breathing really light last night. i could barely even tell you were breathing at some points and normally you breathe pretty noticeably while you sleep. and, you know, given this case, i just wanted to check.”

sam notices the way you breathe when you sleep. that’s just about all you can take away from his words. sam pays enough attention to the way you breathe when you sleep to know when your breathing is different. sam thinks about the way that you breathe. maybe that’d be creepy from anyone else, but you think about the way he breathes too. the way it lulls you to sleep when he’s close, the way it catches when he’s surprised, or the way it changes when he’s about to laugh.

then you remember he’s said something you’re supposed to address. “it’s nothing, sam. i feel totally fine, just tired from working back to back cases, is all.” you say this because you’re sure of it; you do feel just fine. and sam makes you breathless all the time, so there's nothing out of the ordinary there.

“are you sure?” he presses, “you slept straight through the alarm, like a rock.”

“i’m sure,” you say.

“okay,” you can immediately tell that he’s not entirely convinced as he says this, “but if anything happens or changes or you feel like you’re out of breath, you promise to tell me or dean?”

“of course.” you may not want to be fussed over, but you certainly don’t want to go out in such a stupid, horrible way. “i promise,” you add, just for his sake. dean’s phone starts ringing, and he appears out of the bathroom.

“either way, let’s get this case done, and quick,” sam insists.

“don’t have to tell me twice,” you agree, throwing off the covers to get ready for the day.

dean’s voice keeps you from lingering by sam’s side. “hey, crazy kids, let’s hurry it up. just got off the phone with the sheriff, there was another death last night.”

“dammit,” you and sam swear in unison. 

on the way to the scene, dean updates you on his findings from last night. he was just as unsuccessful as you in finding major dirt on any of the victims, though he recieved similar testimonials to the sister’s about the first, henry. otherwise, he was able to find the witch’s possible hunting ground in a bar where all three victims have been seen with their partners. sam reports that he’s getting close to finding the right spell after discovering a few similar ones. 

when you reach the victim’s house, sam and dean check in with the police officers, and you immediately head to interview whoever found the victim’s body. he’s obviously distraught, and probably still in shock from losing his boyfriend. you do your best to stay gentle, kind, and understanding as you lead him through the interview, interrupting your questions for the occasional “he sounds like he was a wonderful partner,” or other such comforting phrase as the man, tyler, rambles about how great he was, how guilty he feels, and just about nothing helpful except for adding another data point to the one pattern you have.

“thank you for your help,” you say, giving him a tight lipped smile before standing and drifting over to sam on instinct as you mull over the information you recieved. he’s poking around in the kitchen, subtly searching for anything abnormal and most likely coming up empty as this house follows the unhelpful trend of the rest.

“anything?” he asks once you’re by his side.

you shake your head, “just the madly in love bit. everything was pretty much the same as the other vics as well.” sam sighs like he expected that answer.

“i think we should look more into the first victim,” he suggests, echoing the same thought that you had. “maybe interview natalie again, see if she admits something different about henry if we push it a little.”

“i agree, though i’d say let’s hold off on interviewing her again unless we can’t find the spell soon. even if she admits that he wasn’t as good to her as she said before, i’m not sure how much good that does in comparison to the spell. if you keep looking into that, i’ll check henry’s records more thoroughly. i looked into him less last night since we already had something on him.” you revise the plan a bit, and sam nods in agreement, making that sort of awkward face with his lips pursed and eyebrows raised that he does when someone without the knowledge you have comes in hearing range. you glance behind you to see the figure of a police officer through the kitchen doorway and are fast to quit all talk of spells and witches to avoid sounding insane.

“dean can scout out the bar again to see if this most recent couple frequented there as well,” sam puts the last piece in place for your plan, just as you imagined it. once it seems like there’s nothing left to glean from the house, you grab dean and head out back to the car. the brothers walk a bit ahead of you as sam fills dean in on the plan.

“excuse me! agent,” a voice calls from behind you. the three of you turn, and you wave the two of them away to indicate that you’ll deal with it.

“yes?” you respond as an officer approaches.

“your partner asked for the full coroner’s reports on paper from the first three victims,” she says, holding out a file as she reaches you.

“ah! right. thank you, officer.” you give her a polite smile and take the papers before turning away. sam and dean have made it to the impala, parked a bit away due to the police cars surrounding the house. you jog at a casual pace to catch up, but falter about halfway there as your breaths turn all shuddery and quick. you stop, trying to right yourself and desperate to brush this off, but you just keep gulping in breaths, feeling like you’ve run a mile at top speed without warming up. 

shit. shit, shit, shit, is all you can think. fuck.

as you stare at the car, dean’s already in the front seat and sam is pulling the passenger’s door open, and you will with all your might that neither of them will turn to look for you. you don’t want them to catch you like this. instead, you want to explain it to them, calm and collected and full of breath because your body’s beginning to readjust and you should be fine to walk over in moments and dammit– sam’s twisted around to find you, his hands resting on the top of the car and the door. the second he catches sight of you, just standing there with your chest heaving up and down, he’s launched himself away from the car and towards you. he calls your name, worry flooding his voice. you had tried to recompose yourself the second you saw his head turning, but it was too late, and now he’s jogging your way.

sam is in front of you in moments, his hands on your shoulders and his face fallen in a deep frown.

“you’re not okay, are you?”

“i– i’m–,” you can’t think of what to say, and though your breath is returning to normal, you can’t deny him. “let’s just get in the car. please.” 

his jaw clenches and his eyes flick all over you, from the top of your head to the point of your shoes like he always looks at you when he thinks you might be hurt. he’s taking you in, quick and almost panicked so he can fix it right away. he takes a steadying breath because he’s so ovewrought he can barely think. “fine,” he says, voice carefully hushed. if he doesn’t control it, he might start shouting, panicking even. sam can’t bear to leave you untouched now, so he leaves a hand splayed on your shoulder blade as you finish the short walk to the car. he opens the back door and climbs right in, completely foregoing his spot in the passenger’s seat. you realize he wants to sit in the back with you, and it would’ve been sweet if it wasn’t because you’re probably dying.

jaw clenched, you follow him in, and dean’s already twisted around in his seat, gaze shifting between the two of you to try and read what just happened.

“what was that all about?” he questions, eyebrows raised. you put a hand on sam’s knee to stop him from telling dean.

“the witch got me,” you drop the news without much hesitation, more focused on getting your two cents in before either of them start grilling you with questions and making stupid suggestions to try and fix it, “it’s gotta be someone we met or passed by yesterday. one of the people we interviewed or someone from the diner we had lunch at; these types of spells normally require the victim’s dna. and before either of you do anything stupid or crazy, we’re gonna stick with the same plan. dean, you can drop us at the motel so we can find the spell and reversal, and you find out what you can at the bar. got it?”

dean looks at you like you’re crazy, and you ignore sam’s gaze altogether. 

“got it?” dean repeats back to you, incredulous, “not so much, kid, i’m gonna need you to explain this to me a little better. what do you mean the witch got you? you mean you’re gonna stop breathing in some odd hours that might not be enough time for us to find and gank this witch?”

“yes, dean, that’s what i mean. try to keep up,” you turn a little mean as your frustration takes over in order to compensate for your growing fear. “and i’m not going to die, so quit being so pessimistic. we’ll find the witch, as long as we stay focused on the plan. unless you have a faster way, which i’d be happy to abide by.” neither have a good enough retort to that, so you continue, “can we go now? we might not have that much time.”

with much effort, dean turns back in his seat and starts the engine. his voice is low when he asks, “what do you mean by that?”

“well, i don’t know exactly when this whole thing started!” you answer as he pulls into the street, “sam said my breathing wasn’t totally normal last night. if that means anything, well, i went to bed early last night, around eleven. that could mean it’s been at least, i don’t know,” you check the time, “eleven hours. which gives us five, minimum.” you think you can physically feel sam tense up next to you.

“five hours?” sam repeats, his voice taut, like he’s holding back anger, fear, maybe more. “and were there any times before that you felt out of breath?” 

you think back to yesterday. sure, every time i looked at you, isn’t quite an answer that you can give. “um, i’m not sure,” you say, sounding more cryptic than casual, as you had meant. you see dean’s eyebrow raise through the rearview mirror.

“you’re not sure?” dean asks, unbelieving. the two brothers are starting to sound like a broken record as they repeat every other thing you say back to you.

“yeah. nothing comes to mind,” you say, more firmly this time.

sam sighs. “you can’t seriously think it’s a good idea to hide that sort of thing from us if it happened. this is serious.”

you scoff, “oh, really? i wasn’t aware, it’s not like it’s my life on the line, or anything like that.”

“alright, let’s not get pissy,” dean intervenes.

“pissy?” you scoff again, “right, because this is serious and i’m apparently unaware of that.”

dean says your name, voice a little chiding as he tries to disperse some of the tension that’s building within the small space of the car. “let’s focus on the case here. sam is right, we need to know everything you do. was there anything else weird you noticed last night?”

“i don’t know!” you exclaim before calming down a bit and taking a deep breath. “i had this ringing in my ears for a minute, around ten. i thought it was a headache. and … i did feel breathless, but just for a second. i thought it was … something else.”

“why didn’t you say anything?” sam asks, immediately remembering this. you had pressed your hand to your ear. he believed you when you said it was a headache, but he should have known better. you’re far more likely to rub your temples when you feel a headache coming on.

“i thought it was something else,” you repeat.

“like what?” he presses.

“like–” you hesitate, “like nothing. just nothing, i don’t know.”

dean interrupts again to get things back on track, “so that could mean four hours, not five.” you see sam’s jaw clenching out of the corner of your eye.

“yeah,” you confirm, hoping your voice doesn’t reveal how anxious you really are.

“my question is why just you?” dean asks. “i’d normally figure it’s because they suspect you to be a hunter, but if they were able to get your dna, they probably had access to ours, too. the witch think you’re madly in love with sammy or somethin’?”

you fluster at that, mind scrambling, why in the goddamn hell would dean say that? does he want me dead faster? “uhm, uh,” you laugh a little, completely awkward about it, “why would they think that? we were clearly, you know, in a working relationship, not a, hah– romantic,” you clear your throat, “relationship. i’m sure it’s just the hunter thing, maybe they couldn’t get your dna… or they thought i was more worth killing,” you attempt at a joking insult, but you’re still sort of jerking through your words and reeling from someone saying “you’re madly in love with sammy” out loud.

to your left, sam looks almost as flustered as you feel, which brings you an ounce of comfort.

“whatever you say,” dean shrugs.

when you get back to the hotel, sam’s practically running inside to pull out his laptop, and dean speeds away the second the car doors close behind the two of you. both of you are fidgety and antsy as you conduct your research in silence. you think sam’s even more nervous than you, with his leg bouncing and teeth chewing away at his lower lip. you’re not sure if you should comfort him, or let him be in favor of getting the research done. it doesn’t take too long for him to find the original spell, and as he tells you about it, some nervousness dissipates when the both of you get back into the groove of a normal hunt, trying to pretend that this time, the consequences aren’t as personal as they could ever get.

you can’t find any dirt on henry in any records, so you focus on staff from the bar and diner from yesterday to see if there’s any overlap that could have gotten dna from both you and all the other four victims. something else entirely jumps out at you as you check employment records.

“sam, it’s natalie,” you blurt out into the silence of the room. he raises his eyebrows, and you explain before he can even ask. “she works at the bar. and i drank some of that lemonade she gave us. she had easy access to everyone’s dna, and henry was the only deviation from the pattern.”

sam stands as you explain, “okay, let’s go.”

“no, let’s call dean and finish finding the reversal spell. i’d like to have a backup plan, if that’s alright.” sam purses his lips, looking like he wants to argue. you propose something more rational than his idea, “we’ll call dean and let him know. he can go to her house and make sure she’s the real deal before we go, too.”

“fine,” sam agrees, pulling out his phone, just as it begins to ring. he answers it and puts it on speaker, “dean, it’s natalie.”

“yeah, i know. that’s what i was about to tell you, the idiots from last night didn’t bother to mention it,” he complains. “i’m headed to her house right now.” to prove it, you hear the car door open and close. “how’s it going on your end?”

“we found the spell, we’re looking for the reversal right now,” you answer. “call us if you need help.”

“mm, you just take care o’ yourself, alright? i’ll call you back.” after that, all you get is the hang-up tone. 

a bit later, your concentration is interrupted by the pinging of sam’s phone. you watch him as he checks the messages, then looks up at you with a poorly hidden scowl.

“she wasn’t at her house,” he explains, “dean’s headed to her sister’s to look for her there. but it’s definitely her, he found a secret room full of, y’know, as he’d say, ‘witchy stuff.’”

you try to hide your disappointment and the uneven rise and fall of your chest. sam’s stayed mostly focused on the research, but every now and then, you feel him looking you over, brow furrowed and eyes concerned as he checks for anything abnormal. he’s looking at you like that now.

“damn,” is all you manage in response while still trying to stay casual about it.

“how are you feeling?” he asks. you expected the question, but you still don’t want to answer. you’re about to tell him you’re fine, since you’re not really running out of breath yet, until he speaks again before you can, “and don’t say ‘fine.’”

“i am fine,” you insist immediately, “just extra tired from getting a little less oxygen than normal. but nothing crazy. i can still focus on this research and i can still hold a weapon.” you demonstrate by grabbing one of the knives you keep strapped to your thigh and twirling it a little in your hand. sam’s face spells out the word “really?”

“just– tell me if it gets worse. please,” he’s just about begging, and with a bit of puppy dog eye action, you’re crumbling.

“okay, sam,” you relent, letting your voice go soft. he’s really scared for you, and it makes you feel just about every little thing. you want to comfort him, reassure that you’ll be okay, even when you’re terrified for yourself. you want him to comfort you, for that exact reason, and you want to hold his hand. maybe you can be scared together, a little closer than you are now. you want to kiss him, because what if this is the only chance you get? that thought horrifies you. then you wonder if it’s for the best. maybe you should die as his best friend, because dying as his anything is better than scaring him away first. it’s hard to concentrate on the research, but it’s not hard to find the motivation. the hope is to avoid death completely.

finally, you find it.

“i got it, sam!” you’re excited, then a bit breathless after pushing so much air out of your lungs so fast. the breath you take in is sort of shuddering, and it makes sam frown. he doesn’t even try to hide how worried he is. his face is nothing but unadulterated concern and care and … and something else before that expression melts away and he’s focusing on the computer screen that you tilted towards him. the crease between his brows only grows as his eyes flit down the list of ingredients.

“we don’t have the half of these ingredients,” he worries.

“no,” you admit, “but there’s a witch in town who’s away from home who might.”

to get there, sam doesn’t hesitate to steal a car from the motel parking lot, and this time you can’t even argue given the fact that you’re pretty sure you have less than two hours to live at this point. you promised sam you’d tell him if it got worse, but as it does, you want to say something less and less.

sam picks the lock of the door, entering the house carefully with you right behind. weapons drawn, you walk the route that dean gave you to the hidden room, the door in the wall of the hallway left open for you by dean.

it’s much darker than the rest of the house from the lack of windows and bright lights. this, paired with the eerie assortment of basic herbs to what might be jars of blood, makes it look like natalie really leaned into the witchy aesthetic, which you’d find understandable if she weren’t using her magic to kill people.

sam walks faster than you know is wise to match paces with, so you follow behind him slowly as he rushes to set the computer with the list of ingredients on the table in the center of the room abd begin the spell. you’re a split second too late to shout in warning when you see a figure emerge from behind a shelf of herbs.

sam whirls around at your cry, gun raised, only to be hit on the side of the head, hard, by a wooden bat in natalie’s hand. he crumples to the ground despite his size, and without batting an eye, your knife is flying through the air, straight for the spot between natalie’s shoulder blades. but at the last second, she spins around, and with a flick of her hand, the knife falls to the ground. you reach for your gun, but through your hindered breathing, you’re slow. she has no trouble launching the bat at you at an unnatural speed. the wood slams into your chest, sending you sprawling and gasping in your weakened state. you’re fighting for breath so hard that you can barely register her hauling you up and tying your hands behind your back, then doing the same to sam. somehow, she’s able to get his weight on a chair and tie him to the wobbly piece of furniture. then, it’s your turn, and by the time you come back to your senses, breathing far more labored than before, you’re tied to a chair, back to back with sam.

natalie gives you a horrid smile as she tugs at a knot to tighten it.

“well, isn’t this fortuitous! such a lovely surprise for you two to visit me,” she chimes, just as you feel sam stirring behind you. his head lolls back, brushing against your own. you completely ignore her in favor of calling his name. a rumbling groan escapes his lips as he stumbles back into consciousness.

“that’s right!” natalie grins, “it’ll be much better with pretty boy awake.” she walks around you, and you hear a smacking sound that you presume to be her hitting his cheeks to wake him further.

“don’t touch him,” you practically growl. it sounds far less intimidating than you hoped in your breathless voice. she laughs and sam lets out an audible huff of air as he wakes.

“there he is,” natalie grins. “now i’ve got two love birds at my mercy! much better than i could have imagined. you know, i couldn’t watch the deaths of the others, so this is far more exciting. i thought i’d have to miss yours, too!” she motions to you. “but now i get to watch you die, watch pretty boy watch you die, and then kill him, too! lovely isn’t it? i’ve never had such luck, thank you idiots for bringing it to me.”

“you’re not killing anyone today,” sam retorts, anger filling his voice. with a bit of an uncomfortable stretch, you twist your fingers around to grab a hold of his. it’s awkward, but you take advantage of her horrible ramblings to keep her distracted and try to guide sam’s hands to the tiny blade attached to the seam of your jacket sleeve.

“i’m not?” she laughs, “mmm, you don’t really seem like you’re in the position to determine that, pretty boy.” you hate her calling him that. “well, love will do that to a person. makes you easy targets, blinds you. you two were just too easy, so busy making eyes at each other to pay any proper attention to me.” you conclude she’s crazy, rambling on about what made her angry enough to kill. you’re sure she caught you making eyes at him, but she’s crazy talking like he’s visibly in love with you too. immediately catching on to your plan, sam’s hands are fumbling around with your jacket sleeve, trying to get the knife unstuck so it can slip down and into your hands.

“it’s so goddamn irritating when people are just so in love with each other. makes me want to hurl,” she complains.

“sounds to me like you’re just jealous your boyfriend didn’t treat you like that,” you prod at her weak spot. she whirls on you, grabbing the front of your jacket and yanking you towards her.

“so i killed him. and everything he was supposed to be,” she hisses. “and know i’m going to kill you two pining idiots. you know, you don’t have very long,” she feigns sympathy in the condescending tone of her voice. when she slams you back against the chair, it takes your breath away for a frighteningly long time. sam’s so worried, calling your name out over and over again as you choke on nothing, that he almost doesn’t realize that the movement also helped dislodge the knife and let it fall into your hands. it slices a thin line down your arm, but you couldn’t care less as you begin to work on cutting through his bonds.

“oh, shut up, lover boy,” natalie growls, hating the way he says your name with so much care as she stays leaning over you, a sick smile on her face. why the hell is she calling him lover boy? you know that’s not what you should be so worried about in this moment, but it’s the one thing that you can think about. “i’m busy watching your little lover die! i think you’ll look so good crying over them, won’t you?”

when sam’s ties snap, he stays in place, holding onto the rope so it doesn’t drop to the ground and alert her. he just shimmies the knife from your hand to his and begins working on your own ties. through it all, he pretends to struggle helplessly, cursing at her wildly.

natalie rolls her eyes, then stands straight. “if you don’t shut it, i’m going to make you,” she snarls, stalking around to stand in front of sam. in an instant, he brings the knife to the rope binding him to the chair, snapping it and lunging towards her. judging from the choked cry that escapes her throat, sam’s already plunged the knife into her neck. you hear him grunt, then the sound of her body hits the floor before he’s turned back to you, quickly freeing you all the way and pulling you to your feet. he’s halfway to the door with his hand gripping yours when you tug back.

“wait… sam, wait!” you gasp, and he’s immediately face to face with you, sweet eyes looking you up and down with confusion and worry. “it’s not– it didn’t work. the spell, we need to do the spell.”

“what do you mean? that’s impossible, killing the witch who performed the spell always–,” he fully takes you in for the first time. your chest is still heaving, your breath rattling, and it’s undeniably getting worse by the minute. “okay, okay. just sit down.” he guides you back to a chair, turning it to face the table so he can keep an eye on you as he works. this time, you’re having a hard time hiding the fear from your eyes, and he reads that loud and clear. he lets you have his strong hands cupping your face for just a moment. “you’re gonna be fine. i’m gonna fix this.” he says it with such conviction that you’d do anything to believe him. then his warm touch is gone, and you’re again hit with the reality that it’s getting harder and harder to breathe, to get any satisfactory amount of air.

your eyes follow him desperately as he rushes about the area, checking and rechecking the spell as he adds ingredients to a small cup he finds. his movements become more and more panicked by the second as he notices your breathing getting worse, more fluttery and gulping. sam’s muttering to himself as he works, too scared to look at your face for too long. unable to find one of the ingredients, he curses loudly as he searches, shoving a whole rack of ingredients to the ground. glass shatters and the metal rack clangs against the ground, the sound echoing throughout the space.

flinching at the sound, you cry out his name, struggling to speak, “you have… you have to.. to calm .. calm down.”

“i can’t!” he practically shouts, and you think you’ve never seen him this distraught, this helpless before.

“why?” is all you can manage between gasps.

“because you’re dying! and i can’t let you die, i won’t.” he’s still rummaging through ingredients as he speaks. he’s still refusing to look at you.

you want him to say it, the truth, so you repeat the question, “why?” you wheeze out, desperate to hear it in case he can’t finish the spell on time.

“because i love you!” he’s no longer shouting when he says it. his voice is all desperation and helplessness and utter sincerity, said like all he needs in the world is for you to understand that. you’re not sure if the shuddering breath you let out could count as a sigh of relief, but it’s the closest you’ll ever get.

you take him in. tears running down his cheeks, lips pursed and eyebrows pinched like he’s holding back from crying out. he’s pretty like that, you think. maybe that’s a cruel thought, but you love him too much to think otherwise. he’s always pretty; when he’s mad at you, when he’s bleeding, when he’s stitching himself up, when he’s biting his lip in concentration. when he talks about something that makes him excited or when he’s crying. when he’s oblivious of the way you look at him while he sleeps, and when he makes you love him so hard that it hurts worse than anything a monster could do to you.

you’re lightheaded, and taking in so little air that you can’t say it back. all you want to do is say it back. you slide out of the chair and onto your hands and knees, shaking so hard you can barely hold yourself up. from the ground, you can hear sam, moving around, letting jars fall and shatter to the ground, crying.

when you collapse to the floor, writhing and gasping for any semblance of air, sam snaps. he can’t find the goddamn rosemary, such a simple and common herb, even for a normal kitchen, especially compared to all the other ingredients, but he knows it’s essential for its protection, purification, and healing properties. he can’t give up, he can’t let you die, but you’re writhing on the ground and crying inbetween gasps and all he wants is to hold you close, brush your tears away and tell you it’ll be alright. he barely catches the sound of your voice over the noise of his searching.

“please…”

“what? what is it, honey?” he asks through tears, unable to look at you as his eyes scan a new shelf for the basic pine-needle shape of the leaves, maybe even the little purple flowers to help it stand out.

“hold me,” you wheeze, afraid of dying alone on the stone cold floor as you feel your consciousness slipping through your fingertips like the sand of an hourglass. sam feels like he’s had his heart cleaved in two by a blunt ax coated in the world’s most vile poison.

he chokes on a sob before he can speak again, “i can’t. i’m so sorry, baby, i can't. i just need the rosemary, it’s so close, please, baby.” he’s not sure who he’s begging to. you, to stay alive? god, to intervene? himself, to finish the spell on time? anything and anyone who will listen, most likely. you don’t have the energy to ask him to hold you again.

that moment of silence is the most horrible of them all, then the door swings open with a bang, letting the bright lights from the rest of the house flood into the dark space. dean’s eyes zero in on you on the floor, grasping helplessly at your throat, and he’s on his knees by your side in a second.

he scoops you up in his arms and to his chest. “hey. hey, hey, hey. it’s okay,” he comforts, his eyes wet because he doesn’t know if he believes himself, given your state. “sam’s gonna fix it, darlin’. you’re gonna be just fine.” he’s holding you too tight to wipe away the tears that helplessly stream down your face and he clings to the fact that your hand is gripping his wrist tight.

“dean, rosemary!” sam barks. dean looks up from you, eyes scanning the mess around you; natalie’s dead body and the blood from her wound seeping slowly over the floor, the shattered glass and clutter of dried herbs along with other magical ingredients. sam realizes dean probably won’t recognize it on his own. “dried bundle, purple flowers, thin leaves,” he instructs as best as he can as he continues his own search. dean feels awful as he lets you fall back to the ground and your weak hands fingers scrape at his arms, but he thinks he sees it, rolled far away and invisible unless you’re crouched to the ground. he scrambles across the floor to grab it and tosses it to sam, who barely manages to catch it with his shaking hands.

sam rips at it with thick, clumsy fingers, crushing the brittle leaves between the pads of his forefinger and thumb into the mixture. he’s silently praying it’s enough as he mixes it in, letting a few drops slosh over the side of the cup in his rush. dean’s back with you, holding you up in a sitting position for sam with a hand smoothing up and down your arm in his best effort of a comforting gesture. he presses a kiss to your temple as sam drops down in front of you. sam uses one large hand to cup the side of your face, and the other to bring the cup to your lips. for a moment, he’s terrified beyond comprehension when the first bit of the liquid he pours into your mouth just dribbles right back out and down your chin.

you’ve gone nearly completely still; your eyes are barely open and your breathing so shallow that only dean knows you’re still inhaling because he’s got you so close.

“please,” sam begs, whispering your name with such conviction, such desperation, that it pulls you away from the claws of unconsciousness just enough to get you to swallow weakly. sam tilts the cup up, just a bit more, and the rim knocks against your bottom teeth as more foul tasting liquid seeps into your mouth. you swallow again, then gag a little when he pours too much for you to handle in your current state. sam’s hopeful when half the mixture is down your throat and he tilts the cup for you again, but the liquid falls down your chin this time, and your eyes are closed. you’ve gone totally still in dean’s arms.

“no, no, no, wake up. c’mon, we’re almost there. you gotta wake up,” sam begs again, more tears spilling onto his cheeks after his hope is stolen away, more cruelly than ever. “please, please, please, honey. please wake up.” his voice breaks as he calls out your name again, setting the cup on the floor and taking you from dean to pull you into his own arms. dean lets him, swallowing hard and not daring to move an inch as he takes in the sight, maybe just about the most horrible thing he’s seen in his fucked up life. that’s the second family member he’s had die in his arms, and the first is holding your limp body as he shakes, cries, and begs, beyond distraught as he denies the fact that he couldn’t save you. dean curses his life. he wishes it was him, thinks about the fact that he’s always too late to make a difference. he’s ready to sell his soul again, ready to go to hell and back.

you’re dead weight against sam’s chest, your clammy forehead and tear-sticky cheeks pressed against the sweaty skin of his neck. he gathers you closer, his hand tugging at your jacket and rubbing up and down your back, begging for you to wake up.

dean’s about to interrupt sam’s mourning to tell him he’s gonna look for the nearest crossroads, that all sam needs to do is keep your body safe. then you shudder in sam’s arms and he’s calling your name again, far beyond desperate that you’ll hear him. he says your name like a prayer, with so much reverence, far more than he could ever muster up for the god he wants to believe in.

you take in a sharp breath, your eyes fly open, and you’re gasping for air, grasping at sam’s sturdy arms like you’ve almost just drowned. sam just about sobs in relief, comforting you through his own tears, “oh, you’re okay, honey, you’re alright. i’ve got you. just breathe, baby, just breathe, that's all you gotta do.” his voice instantly calms you, and you wrap your shaky arms around his neck to show him you understand. he’s got you. he buries his face into your neck, trying not to hold you too tight for fear of restricting your breathing. you feel the wetness of his tears on you, warm and so tired. you don’t want him to cry. he loves you.

his hands smooth up and down your back, helping you set a pace to calm down your erratic breathing as you let a fresh wave of tears fall on his hot skin. they’re tears of relief, most of all. of exhaustion and leftover fear, and oh, glory, tears because he loves you. he said it, and now he can’t take it back because you love him far too much for that.

“sammy,” you breathe out. he just holds you tighter. “don’t cry, sam. it’s okay. i’m okay.” you slip your fingers into his hair, your hand so gentle as you run it through his pretty locks. you just want to comfort him, take away all the fear from the last few hours that he's been holding onto, letting pile up and up into an unmanageable, unruly, ugly tower. you suppose him crying so much is him letting the tower topple over, almost as simple as a toddler’s chubby, innocent hands to a wooden block castle. but it still tugs at your heart, pulls at you so hard because you hate to hear him cry, feel him shake and stiffen up around you, too scared to let you go for even a second. “i’m okay,” you repeat, voice fragile from the whispering brush of death’s fingers to your palm, but you try to make it strong and confident for him, “you saved me, sammy, i’m alright. it’s alright. it’s over. you don’t need to worry anymore.” 

you think he relaxes just a touch at your words, but he doesn’t move an inch from his spot on the ground, or say a thing to interrupt the sound of your breathing. all he does is cradle you close, one hand to your back so he can feel it shift when you take in or let out air, and the other splayed from the curve of your neck, up to the base of your head. without moving too much, he presses a long kiss to the ambiguous space above your ear. that’s not enough, so he tilts his head more to press his lips to the skin of your forehead.

dean hates to break the silent reverence between the two of you, and it means more than the world, the whole goddamn universe or anything else he could ever think of, to see this instead of you dead in sam’s arms. you might be the love of sam’s life, but that just makes dean all the more protective of you. to dean, you’re family, and you have been for a long time. that’s why he needs to get the two of you away from here, before anyone finds you and the dead body.

“sam,” dean interrupts, voice somehow both gentle and extra gruff, “we gotta go.” he knows sam can get you up on his own, but he still places a firm hand on your elbow as the two of you stand. he doesn’t want to let his hand fall away from you, but he does anyway. on the way out and to the car, you’re tucked safe into sam’s side, and dean’s got his gun in hand, ready to protect the both of you need be.

dean expects it when sam climbs in the backseat with you, just thankful to get away from the damned house and back to the motel. the ride is mostly silent, save the rumble of the engine, and sam’s hand stays securely wrapped around yours, itching to pull you even closer. you yawn and sam tugs at your hand, then drops his gaze to his lap when you look at him, offering to let you lie there. you can’t resist, because historically, your head in his lap has been heaven, and you figure that this time, after having heard him say “i love you,” it’ll be something better than heaven, something undiscovered and infinitely more precious than all the gold and silver in the world. so you drop your head to his thigh, and his hands are immediately on you. you’ve got the warmth of his palms on your head and your shoulder. your own hand is on his knee, taking in the feel of his time-worn jeans, and the muscle, sinew, and bone underneath.

you fall asleep, just 10 minutes from the motel, and sam doesn’t want to wake you, but you always do anytime he tries to carry you to bed.

he calls your name, all tenderness and sweet as he rubs your shoulder. you stir easily, only having fallen into a light slumber. the sigh you let out when you sit up is soft, and sam thinks it’s cute. then he thinks about the fact that, when you both settle down, he won’t have to hold that thought back. “you’re cute,” he can say, and make you both a little flustered before pressing a kiss to your lips. until then, he’s getting out of the car with you, only letting his hands stray from you when dean pulls you into a hug, right then and there. he holds you tight, showing you how scared he was too, so you squeeze back with extra care.

“don’t scare us like that again, kiddo. you got it?” he mumbles into the embrace. 

you nod, “i got it.” he lingers for a moment, then presses a quick kiss to the side of your head before parting and letting sam take over again.

he’s got a hand stuck to your back on the way into the room, all the way to the bed you shared last night. you don’t hesitate to peel off your dirty shirt and go to put on a new one, but sam’s already holding one out to you. dean disappears into the bathroom, despite not wanting to let you out of his sight.

you tug on the shirt, then collapse into bed, taking sam with you.

“you stink,” you complain lightheartedly, looking at him with honey-sweet love in your eyes. he wants to joke back, but he’s not quite there yet.

“i’ll shower after dean, if you want,” he offers, nothing but sincere. you smile at him, his nose inches from yours.

“but then you’d have to get up,” you say.

“sure, but if that’s what you want,” he repeats. he’d do anything for you, you think.

you shake your head. “that’s not what i want. i don’t want you to go. but i also want to fall asleep in your arms, and it sucks that you smell like blood, sweat, and nasty potions.”

“so what do i do, baby?” he asks, voice light, but you think he really means it. you melt at the pet name.

“hmmm,” you consider, truly not sure. you’re all quick in the shower after years of experience in motel bathrooms, but that still feels like such a long time to be away from him, especially since you should probably shower, too. you decide to suck it up. “you shower, then me. dean said the water was still hot yesterday, even when he went last.” you’re not sure when your voice dropped to a whisper, but it’s quiet now. he sighs, half disappointed, but knowing it’ll be much more comfortable that way.

the second you’re out of the shower and dressed, sam’s tugging you back into bed with him and tucking you into his chest. his hold is still protective and a little wary. you want to make him relax, so you wiggle away just a bit to look at his face.

“sam, i’m so hungry,” you complain. he smiles at you, thinking you’re too cute to resist when you whine just a little. and he just loves it when you say his name.

“you’re gonna make me get up again?” he asks, and you hold back a triumphant grin because his voice has turned pleasantly lighthearted.

“you’re gonna let me starve?” you tease back.

“fine,” he huffs, “we can go to the vending machine together.” he really doesn’t want to be far from you.

“no,” you protest, dragging out the ‘o’ just a little. “we had that earlier. and chips don’t count as a meal. poor dean probably hasn’t eaten at all today! we deserve a treat,” you argue.

sam can’t deny you anything you want in this moment. “we do,” he agrees, “what d’you want? maybe we can convince dean to pick it up for us.”

you smile. “mmm, that’s not fair. dean deserves a treat, too. i’ll satisfy myself with vending machine food for a few hours, then we can go out to an early dinner.”

“are you sure?” sam asks. you smile more.

“mhmm,” you nod. “i have the excuse to buy a candy bar too now.”

dean, splayed out on his own bed, has likely been listening in on this whole conversation, and graciously chosen not to interrupt. he smiles at you as you exit the room.

with a glance that no one’s around, sam slips his hand into yours as you make your way to the vending machine down the hall. your heart blooms at the feeling, at the way he’s been looking at you without shame and suddenly you realize you never said it back. sam punches in the number for an excessive amount of snacks, getting all of yours, his, and dean’s favorites, waiting til they all fall down to collect them. he bends over, gathering them all in his big arms and wide pockets and handing a few to you. the crinkling of plastic fills the quiet air as you watch him with a sort of worship and adoration dripping from your eyes. you take in the curve of his back, the peek of his spine that you get from his tshirt riding up a bit, and the pretty brown hair on the back of his head. when he stands, he catches that gaze, and for once you don’t hide it away or tuck it into that corner of the drawer where you keep all the little trinkets you don’t need, but can’t bear to get rid of. because you need this, and you can have this.

“i didn’t get to say it back.” your voice comes out hushed, reverent.

“say what?” he asks, matching his voice to yours without even trying. you take in all the subtle ways that his face changes, as he thinks about what you could mean. the left side of his mouth quirks down, just a bit, and his eyebrows pinch together. it’s not quite the expression he makes then he’s worried or upset, just thinking.

“i love you, too.” when those words finally escape, finally make themselves known and heard, everything is different. it’s like you’ve never really breathed before this, because the simplest of things, like an inhale that fills your lungs with stale motel air, is so good, so satisfying, so much better when he looks at you like that. “for as long as i can remember, sam, i love you. when we were kids at bobby’s, seventeen and getting soaked in the rain, every moment before then and every moment after, and–”

his lips are on yours and there’s a messy ruckus of plastic wrapped snacks being dropped to the floor, because he couldn’t care about anything except kissing you. his warm, rough hands are so gentle cupping your cheeks and pulling you into him, and you follow suit in disregarding the food in your hands to place them firm on his waist, almost squeezing his sides because you need this to be as real and as solid as it possibly can be.

some might question the merit of this being your first kiss with each other. but it’s so you and sam, standing in an empty motel hallway next to the vending machine and it’s crappy food scattered around your feet. plastic crinkling and rustling when you get closer, and a hunger so insatiable that it makes it hard to breathe.

when you finally break away, panting just a bit, sam’s eyes swim with concern as his mind flashes back to you just an hour ago.

“i’m okay,” you interrupt his paranoid thoughts and loop your arms around his neck, “i’m okay, sam. ‘s just you. baby, i know this is a horrible time to say this, but you always take my breath away, in the best way. you’re so pretty, and i’m so in love with you that when i look at you for too long, i forget to breathe, and–”

his lips are back on yours, telling you me too, me too, me too. saying as they push and mold against yours, you take my breath away and i love you for it.

[queenie-avenue]

Kissed by Aphrodite.

💌 ⤻ft. THE CEO, THE CHEERLEADER, THE BASEBALL PLAYER, THE ACADEMIC RIVAL

—> how they look in the mirror.

⤻ no content warnings, basically. just how the yanderes look and their favourite feature of themself

notes: i felt a bit lazy this time and decided to make a small post, sorry yall.

🦋 ⤻ archives.

💌 ⤻ THE CEO, ADRIAN HOUDE.

Many articles have regarded him as the top bachelor, not just because of his money, but because of his looks. A handsome actor or celebrity is easy to come by, but a handsome CEO? It's a bit hard. Just look at all the rest of the CEOs alongside Adrian, who have bald heads.

Unlike them, Adrian has a full head of luscious blonde hair inherited from his grandmother. You know those hairstyles on 1950s men in those posters? Adrian's hairstyle is similar to that, if not just a slight bit more tousled.

His eyes are icy blue. With warmth only present in them when you're around. His eyes are hooded and sharp.

He's clean shaven with no stubble at all, and he wears a bit of makeup to hide the blemishes on his skin. Nothing is more attractive than a man who knows how to look presentable. He likes to wear a chapstick with just a hint of tint, just to make himself pop a bit more. He has a rather pale complexion. His jawline is sharp and strong, and his nose is straight with the base slightly upturned. His lips are slightly downturned, but his eyes are always smiling.

When it comes to smell, he probably wears a very stereotypical cologne of Tom Ford. However, there's always a hint of mint of him.

💌 ⤻ THE CHEERLEADER, KATIE WILLIAMS

Katie is the stereotypical pretty cheerleader, but it's not her looks that draws people in the most — though it certainly helps — is probably her ability to charm and manipulate anyone into doing her bidding.

Katie has really dark skin, and she wears it proudly. Her foundation and concealer is always dewy and bright as opposed to matte.

She loves makeup, looks like the 'cold girl' makeup, paired with some bold eyeshadow. Her eyes are double-lidded and are of a rounder shape with false lashes always on them. Sometimes, it's like she never takes them off. Some of her roommates in her sorority like to make funny rumours about it to tease her.

Her lips are plump, and, like a 2000s girlie, she loves wearing shiny lip gloss and lipstick. She doesn't overline her lips, though. They're big enough.

Her hair is naturally curly and she takes good care of it, like any other part of her appearance. She likes to wear her curly hair in space buns with little pom poms in her scrunchies. She really loves selling that cheerleader look as much as possible.

Her perfume is from Bath and body works, and she likes to experiment with it. She finishes most of her products every two months and will show up to class with a new perfume. Some of the girls in the school like to mirror her perfume too when she gets a new one. She's that popular!

💌 ⤻ THE BASEBALL PLAYER, JESPER HARGREAVES

Jesper is a brunette, and his hair is always tousled and fluffy. Even when it's wet, it has that bit of volume in it. He styles it everyday with a bit of gel but it always gets messy during practice. If you both are close enough in your relationship, he likes when you style it for him.

His skin is slightly tan from hours of playing in the sun but he makes sure to wear sunscreen, especially after finding out from videos that not wearing sunscreen can cause skin damage. He cringes everytime he remembers how he rejected sunscreen, deciding he was too 'macho' for it.

He has rather soft features for a guy. If he had a skinnier body, people would no doubt mistake him for a girl. He has soft rounded eyes with double eyelids, a cute button nose and heart-shaped lips and bushy eyebrows.

When it comes to scent, he's pretty basic about it. Just deodorant is fine with him. He's particular about sunscreen, but when it comes to shampoo and all, he's the type to use a 3-in-1.

💌 ⤻ THE ACADEMIC RIVAL, SEO MIN-JUN

Min-jun looks like your stereotypical Korean boy. Sure, he's basic, but he knows how to style well so he goes from average to god-like. He has permed his hair and gotten it a bit more fluffy and curly, the bangs swooped to the side to compliment his face shape.

His skin is pale and soft from all the skin care products and sunscreen he uses. He has a bit of a bigger nose and mono-lidded eyes — he's a bit insecure about these traits, give him compliments about it to make him feel better — but very pretty lips and a somewhat sharp jaw.

He has black eyes and black hair, but when he's alone, he likes to wear some contacts to play around with it. He does wear contacts on a daily basis though, but they don't add any colour, it's mainly to help with his eyesight because glasses give him a migraine and he can't find any shape that compliments his face well enough. Can you tell he's vain?

For scent, he probably wears a custom perfume made by some shop.

[yunho-1999]

I Fucking Hate You

pairing: badboys¡minwon x fem¡reader

words: 9.3k+

summary: Wonwoo and Mingyu hate each other's guts, but when they discover you've been lying and keeping secrets from them they decide to punish you together. But even then they fight for dominance, making you choose. Who will you end up with?

genre: smut

warnings: mean¡wonwoo, slightly less mean¡mingyu, dom¡wonwoo, dom¡mingyu, cursing, hair pulling, slapping, choking, unprotected sex (don't risk it babes), creampie, angsty af, wonwoo's confused, physical fights, drooling, oral (male receiving), stereotypical representation of bad boys, manhandling (?), motorcycle go very fast, blood, wounds, and probably way more tbh

You couldn't help but stare, your gaze fixed on his neck tattoo, why the fuck was he so hot? Gosh. Jeon Wonwoo would drive you insane one day.

"What are you looking at?" A pair of strong hands landed on your waist, immediately freezing you in place. Kim Mingyu. That was definitely the worst timing for him to appear, now you couldn't ogle at Wonwoo.

"Hm? Me? Nowhere, I was just zoning out" you quickly turned around, making sure Jeon did not see you. It would cause too much trouble if he found you out in that position with Mingyu.

"Why can't I believe you?" He tilted his head, hand now gripping your jaw with strength.

You frowned at that, you hated the ungodly strength that Mingyu had. Because no matter how hard you tried you wouldn't be able to move a single hair.

"Why wouldn't you? Would I lie to you? Do you really think that?" you pouted at him, puppy eyes staring directly into his. Physical strength was his thing, but mental strength was yours. And you knew how to have everyone wrapped around your fingers. At least that's what you thought.

"Hm, I guess you were really zoning out then..." he squished your face a little more before letting go.

"Of course, I would never ever lie to you Mingyu~" you smiled at him, hand gripping onto his arm, slowly caressing the area, making the big boy smile.

"Anyways, I need you to come over this afternoon, I've been feeling really stressed lately, and you know..." his face moved closer, mouth ghosting the skin of your ear "... your pussy cures my stress everytime."

"I can't today" you swallowed hard while anxiously biting on your lower lip. You never denied Mingyu, but this afternoon you had plans already. With none other than Jeon Wonwoo himself.

"What?" He frowned his grip tighter, eyes burning into yours "What did you say?"

"I can't today Mingyu. I- I have a project that I need to finish, it's like really important and it's half of the grade" you put up your best innocent face, trying to convince him.

"Do it while I fuck you. It wouldn't be the first time you finish a project with my cock burried deep inside of you" That was indeed true, and your head was trying to think of another excuse.

"Well, this time it's different, I need to pay full attention. Because this subject is really hard. And I can't simply get a C like last time. I need at least an A" you could notice the obvious frustration radiating from his body, not only that, but the grip on you kept getting harsher. You just wished it wouldn't leave marks.

"You know I would never deny you" Unless Wonwoo is the reason of course "Because you know how much I love having you fuck me. But this time, only this one time I really can't Gyu. Please understand. We can do it tomorrow. Huh? How about that?" your hands moved to his chest drawing little circles.

"I fucking can't tomorrow Y/n." he pushed you away a little too much making you stumble, but you didn't fall down, you only looked at him with a pout.

"Why is it only when you want? I also have things to do Mingyu." you crossed your arms and he sighed. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. See you when you finish this stupid project of yours"

And just like that he walked away making you roll your eyes. How could he be so selfish? It was always about him, and only him.

If it wasn't for the fact that he was really good at fucking you, you probably would have already cut ties with him. Also, it boosted your ego a lot, that none other than Kim Mingyu wanted you.

"What's got you so mad?" a deep voice laughed behind you, and you prayed to God that he didn't see Mingyu walk away from where you where.

"Hm? Nothing, I had an argument with a friend. But who cares, you're here now" you smiled at him while turning around.

"Is that so? Who would even want to fight you? You're so nice, aren't you baby?" his hand moved a strand of hair behind your ear a dumb smile on his face.

"Are you high again?" you asked noticing his giddy mood "When am I not high is the right question to ask baby" he chuckled leaning closer.

"Yeah, I'm stoned as fuuuck" he kissed the tip of your nose and you couldn't help but giggle "I can tell, your breath smells like shit" you joked.

"But you would still kiss me right?" He started leaning too close for your liking in a public space, but for your sake the bell rang "Not right now" you put your hand on his lips gaining a whine "On the other hand, after school, I'll think about it" you winked at him before walking away.

You quickly made your way to class, avoiding at all costs seeing the two boys. Fortunately they were from different grades, so you wouldn't be seeing them, and they shouldn't see each other eith-

"Fuck off!" "You fuck off! You fucking asshole" Wonwoo's hands immediately grabbed Mingyu's collar.

What was a simple collision in the hallway turned into an argument. But of course it did. Mingyu and Wonwoo couldn't stand each other's guts. That's why neither of them knew you were fucking the other. If they did the dead one would probably be you.

"You can't smoke indoors, did you know that? Or has the weed melted your brain cells? If you even had to begin with."

Without thinking much Wonwoo delivered a punch "You're not the one talking about fucking brain cells, you're dumber than an ostrich, and the bitches have like tiny fucking brains"

Mingyu punched back, before some teacher finally stepped in to stop this whole situation, sending both boys to the principals office.

"Y/n, y/n, y/n guess what we just witnessed?" Chan sat besides you excitedly a smile all across his face.

"Let me guess, Mingyu and Wonwoo were fighting. Again." "Bingo!" Vernon sat on your other side laughing when you let out a sigh.

"Are they okay?" Seungkwan frowned at your question from the seat in front of you "Why do you even care? Oh, no. Don't tell me. Y/n!"

"I know I know, 'you shouldn't do that it's gonna get you in trouble'" you mimicked seungkwan's voice.

"One, I do not sound like that-" "You do though" "Shut up! That's not the point Chan. The point is, if they ever find out, not only are they killing each other, they're gonna kill y/n, and I don't know about you, but I do not want my bestie dead. Not because of two jerks" he rolled his eyes.

"I hate to admit it, but Kwan is right... Is it really worth it?" Chan asked you and you hid your face behind your hands.

"Is it worth it?" you repeated to yourself "Two of the hottest dudes in this whole school want to fuck me, I would say that's pretty worth it, not gonna lie" you looked up just to meet their disappointed gazes "Oh come on! Don't look at me like that! It's not like I committed a crime..."

"Your body your choice, and it's your life, so you do you. But I would be careful. They're not good people, and you definitely deserve better" Vernon shrugged his shoulders.

"They're not as bad as you guys think... " you looked away, not handling the way they were staring at you. They were right, and you knew, but your pride was too big to admit that.

"If you say so..." Chan sighed before looking at the teacher, now paying attention to the class. Knowing that you weren't comfortable talking about this.

After a few more hours it was finally time to go home. You stood up as fast as you could, holding onto your backpack and waving goodbye to your friends before going out of the classroom.

You walked with all your speed to the entrance, to leave, but then a hand pulled you closer.

"We're going in my motorcycle." he sounded mad, very mad. And you noticed a little wound on his lip.

"Are you okay?" you asked worried your thumb caressing his hand. You've rarely seen him like that. As Wonwoo was typically more calm and collected than Mingyu. At least around you he was.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just that that fucking jerk Mingyu ruined my whole day. Could you believe he told me what to do? Him? Like who the fuck does he think he is. I want to ruin that fucking pretty boy face he has." you suddenly felt nervous at that, you didn't want him to fight with Mingyu. Not again.

They once had a very big fight, leaving both boys expelled and with pretty ugly bruises. And even scars. At least Mingyu had some.

"Fighting is never a good solution Wonu, last time you ended up really fucked up, and I don't want that" You also didn't want Mingyu to end up hurt.

"I'll be fine babe, don't worry about me. I can take care of myself" he sat you down on his motorcycle and then put on the helmet he carried around for you.

You held onto him with all your strength and he started to drive, quickly moving away from the area. From the distance you saw Mingyu walk away, pushing some people that where on his way.

"Get off" you heard Wonwoo's voice once he parked the vehicle, and you did just as he said, seeing that you were now in front of his apartment.

"Let's go" he held your hand once again, pulling you with him towards the inside of the building, making you sigh slightly. You hated when Wonwoo was in that mood. He usually was way different from Mingyu, unless he was mad at something. And today he was mad at Mingyu. Turning him into a short tempered person. Just like the tall boy.

"Wonu~" you went closer to him, your other hand on his shoulder massaging the area "relax, he's not here anymore. There's no need to be mad" he looked at you with a frown "I'm here with you. No one else. Are you gonna be mad at me?"

"Y/n I'm not in the mood for you to also tell me what the fuck to do or feel. If I wanna be mad. I will. Got it?" you sighed and looked away, nodding slightly.

"Use your words." he squeezed your hand "Yes Wonwoo, I got it"

"Great. Now get inside" he opened the door and you did as he said, seeing his roomate inside. Frowning at that, you thought that the both of you would be alone. Wasn't that the reason he took you there?

"Hi Y/n!" Seungcheol noticed you, approaching with a big smile. You really liked Cheol, he had graduated last year, and you couldn't help but miss him around school sometimes.

He was about to hug you when Wonwoo stepped in between the two, looking at his friend with the worst death glare you had ever seen.

"Go away." he said making the black haired boy scoff "Woah, what's gotten into you?" he poked his friend's chest, making Wonwoo even more mad than before.

"None of your business now move away." he pushed him with extreme force, making Seungcheol stumble and you looked at him with a pout. Scared that if you tried to talk to him Wonwoo would get even more mad.

Seungcheol looked at you in an apologetic way, he didn't know what happened to Wonwoo, but he knew that his anger would be unloaded on you. And that idea bothered him, but not enough to do something. He wouldn't admit it out loud but he was terrified of the younger male.

Soon you were pushed inside of Jeon's room, the familiar scent invading your senses. You smiled at that before the boy pinned you to the wall.

"Won-" "Shh. I don't want to hear you today. Just be a good girl for me yes?" you looked at him with a pout, and he frowned holding your cheeks, just like Mingyu had done a few hours prior.

"Don't look at me like that Y/n, I'm not in the mood. I know it's not your fault, that's why I'm trying really, really hard to keep myself calm. I don't want to yell at you" he looked at you, and you tried to be apprehensive about the situation.

Yeah, he was a little bit meaner than usual, but it was true that he didn't snap at you. He didn't blame you, or scream in your face like a mad man. Something that Mingyu would definitely do.

Your gaze turned into a softer one and Wonwoo leaned in, kissing you. It was a passionate kiss, filled with lust, and a little bit of blood from his wound.

You could tell he was trying to release his anger in some way. And fucking you would be the way without hurting anyone.

"Fuck" he pulled away from the kiss, his hands now on your shoulders pushing you to your knees. You knew exactly what to do, so without hesitating much you undid his belt, pushing down his pants and underwear at the same time.

He was already half hard so with a few more strokes of your hand he became fully erect.

You started giving little kitten licks to the tip, but the boy didn't have much patience to begin with so he held your head, pushing you to his length, gagging you with it.

You closed your eyes, both hands now placed in his thighs as a way to maintain balance and not fall down.

"You feel good baby. This is definitely what I needed" he kept fucking your mouth. His soft moans made their way to your ears and you smiled slightly.

Before cumming he pulled away "To the bed, quick."

You immediately went to the bed, taking of your skirt and panties on the process. Knowing that Wonwoo would probably just rip them, and you couldn't afford that happening.

You laid down, stomach facing the mattress, ass up in the air, and without much warning the boy pistoned into you.

"I swear to God" he didn't waste time moving as fast and hard as he could, making you bite into the bed sheets to not let out a sound.

"That fucking jerk" a hard thrust was delivered to you as well as a smack to your ass "I fucking hate him" another thrust "One day I'll rip his guts apart" and another.

Wonwoo was never this rough with you, but you couldn't help but like it. Enjoying the roughness, even if the boy was talking shit about your other fuck buddy.

"He's a stupid motherfucker that thinks he's the best, that he has everything he wants, that he owns the world" his grip onto your waist became stronger "well guess what, he doesn't have this pussy, I own this shit" he laughed before fucking into you even rougher.

That was like a cold bucket of water was dropped into you, you felt horrible for some kind of reason. Now regretting all the choices you had made in your life. But at the same time, you weren't dating neither of them. So why should you care? They only saw you as a fuck toy. Right?

That's what it was. It couldn't be anything else. Wonwoo probably said that because he was mad at Mingyu. Because he certainly did not own you.

Yes, you guys were fuck buddies for like a long time. But that didn't mean you belonged to him. Right?

Then why did you keep it a secret whenever you fucked another person? Why did Wonwoo get absolutely furious when he saw you with some other dude?

You never understood those things. He clearly told you he didn't want a relationship. But in reality what he didn't want was the compromise. He was not scared, he just didn't care enough to have a relationship with someone.

He absolutely despised sweet stuff, going on dates, holding hands in a romantic way, giving each other gifts in anniversaries, all of it. He couldn't stand it. It was too much work. It was bothersome for him.

It was much easier having you as a fuck buddy. Cause he didn't need to do shit. Whenever he pleased you would be right there for him to use you as he wanted. Without even complaining about it. You were a simple person, and he loved that.

What he did not love was the thought of other people doing this with you. For some reason he hated it with all his might. But that was probably because he was jealous and selfish in general. He didn't like other people using something he liked.

Fuck, did he like you?

He wasn't sure. To be honest he avoided thinking about it. He had made the mistake to tell you this would be nothing serious, and now, it was too late to regret it. He said what he said. And there was nothing to do about it.

"Wonu- argh wonu the- the door" you managed to speak through muffled moans.

Wonwoo was so deep into his own thoughts and with the task of fucking you that he didn't even realize when someone started knocking on the door.

"For fucks sake. I can't have one peaceful fucking day. ONE." he let go of you, resentfuly pulling away.

"What the fuck do you want?" He opened just a bit of the door, Seungcheol's awkward smile was the first thing he saw, making him roll his eyes.

"I don't want to be a party pooper, but hm, how do I tell you this... The lady that inspects the apartment is here. And well you know..." he said flailing his arms.

"You want me to stop fucking y/n" he deadpans "yeah that. I'm sorry..." Seungcheol looks like a sad puppy, like he did something so wrong his owner would disown him.

"I fucking hate this day. Nothing could be worse. I swear." he angrily closed the door, making Cheol and you flinch.

"Get dressed. I'll take you home." he started putting on his own clothes, trying to leave the place tidy before leaving. Because as much as he hated the situation, he didn't want Seungcheol and him getting kicked out.

"I'm sorry..." you whispered. You knew it wasn't your fault. But still you felt apologetic. "W-we can continue in my apartment if you want Wonu... I have no roommates and no one's coming over"

"Honestly I'm not even horny anymore y/n, just fucking furious" he signaled with his head for you to get moving after dressing up. And you did after fixing the bed.

"We can like, watch a movie or something. To help you calm down. Or maybe distract you from this situation" you looked at him with shiny eyes, hoping he would say yes.

"Honestly, anything is better than staying here. Because I would probably punch Cheol on the face" he sighed and then held your hand.

He walked as fast as he could, quickly leaving with you. Not even saying goodbye to Cheol or the lady that inevitably ruined his moment with you.

He took both of you to your apartment, seemingly more calm than before. At least that what you thought when you sat down next to him to watch the movie.

Half an hour passed, and everything was actually going fine. You and Wonwoo were enjoying the movie, but then, the doorbell rang.

You sighed and stood up going to see who it was, frowning when you saw your friends. Why were they here?

"Hi..." you answered when you opened the door. Seungkwan immediately pushed you out of the way entering your house, Vernon and Chan following along.

"Y/n you won't believe what we saw, Min-" you quickly opened your eyes pointing with your chin towards Wonwoo on the couch "oh... Not him" he rolled his eyes.

"What's he doing here?" Chan whispered to you approaching you from the side.

"What about me huh?!" Wonwoo immediately stood up. Walking towards where all of you were.

"N-nothing, they're just surprised you're here nothing else. Right guys?" you looked at them desperately.

"Actually no. I don't like that he's here y/n. We talked to you about this. For fucks sake" Seungkwan's eyes where fixated on your nervous ones.

"Oh you don't like me huh? I don't like you guys either. And today is not really my fucking day, so I suggest you shut the fuck up" he went even closer to Seungkwan.

Panicked you stood in front of your friend, looking up to the taller male. "Please don't fight..."

"Y/n I wouldn't have to fight if you listened to us. He's not good for you, can't you understand that? It's not that hard." he crossed his arms.

Wonwoo pushed you out of the way, this time not being careful making you fall down. And he delivered a punch to your friends face, his nose starting to bleed.

"What the fuck?!" he yelled holding onto the bruised area "fuck..." he backed away Vernon taking his place as Chan helped you get up.

"Are you fucking stupid dude? Jesus Christ..." Vernon mustered "That's why we don't like you at all. You aggressive piece of shit" Chan spoke up now.

"Guys please..." you whispered fighting the urge to cry, but it was impossible. Tears already rolling down your cheeks.

"Why do you keep defending him? He just punched me in my face!" Seungkwan looked at you, his eyes wide open, not believing the situation.

"I- I'm sorry" you covered your face sighing deeply.

"I'm fucking leaving" Wonwoo said and you held his arm "N-no, don't lea-" "Let go." he pulled his arm away from your grip and just left.

You let out a desperate cry before looking away from your friends. Too ashamed to even look at them in the eyes after that situation.

"I'm so sorry, I really am, I'm sorry" you kept mumbling to them until you felt a pair of arms surround you. Trying to make you calm down.

"It's fine" you heard Chan's soft voice from behind. It surprisingly helped a little.

"No, it's not fucking fine. Like for God's sake y/n, this can not keep happening. You need to stop seeing them. Specially Wonwoo." Seungkwan was now in front of you, arms crossed letting you see how angry he was. Not only that you could also spot a bruise starting to appear on his delicate face.

"Oh no, Seungkwan, I'm sorry, I didn't think he would do this to you, i- I don't know what happened, he was in a bad mood and I guess-"

"Stop trying to excuse him y/n" Vernon sighed now taking a stance next to his friend. "He's a jerk. That's it. Imagine if one day he punches you."

"He wouldn't do that..." you shook your head and then Chan placed his chin on your shoulder.

"You don't know that" he said before letting you go so he could go stand next to Vernon "and honestly I don't want to wait until it happens" he sighed.

"It's not that easy you know? You all keep saying to just leave them, stop seeing them. But it's not easy, not at all. They know where I live, they go to the same school we do, it's just, too complicated, I'm- I'm scared" both of your hands where placed on your temples while you closed your eyes. Stressed by just the though of Mingyu and Wonwoo going absolutely insane because out of nowhere you stopped talking to them.

"I know it's not easy. But you have us. We may not be the best in terms of size or strength, but we will still protect you, right?" Chan smiled brightly trying to ease the situation a bit.

"Yeah, of course. Like, no one, absolutely no one is hurting you." Vernon sounded extremely serious and you could tell he really meant it.

"And if I have to take another punch for you, I'll do it." Kwan held your hands with a soft smile.

You couldn't help but breakdown and start crying again because of that. You really didn't know what you did to deserve such good and loving friends like them.

"You guys are the best. Really. I love you so much. Thank you. And sorry..." you pouted before laughing gently at Seungkwan as he also started crying.

"You guys are such crybabies" Chan laughed before caressing both of your backs.

"So it's settled Y/n, tomorrow, no talking to those douches" Vernon poked your head gently.

You had never felt so nervous to go to school like today. Chan waited for you outside your house with Vernon so the three of you could go to school. As Seungkwan couldn't because he had a doctors appointment. It was also a way to make sure you would not talk to neither Mingyu or Wonwoo.

"I'm so fucking scared. Wonwoo called me yesterday, and I didn't answer so he messaged me like a lot. He's definitely going to try and talk to me today. I'm terrified" you sighed while walking, hands holding on tight to the straps of your backpack as if they would run away.

"He better stay away from you. If he doesn't I'll make sure he does. After yesterday I really want to beat the shit out of him. For real" Vernon frowned, he absolutely despised Wonwoo, and after the punch that Seungkwan received he hated him even more.

"Well, let's try to stay out of conflict" Chan looked at his friend worried and then at you with the same gaze.

"Yeah, let's just... ignore them..." you nodded to yourself, seeing the two boys agree with you.

After some minutes you guys finally arrived, feeling a bit weird. You looked around scared, like a bunny being chased by two big bad wolves.

To your despair you made eye contact with Mingyu by accident, making you look away immediately and cling onto both of your friends arms. Walking faster towards your class.

The taller male just frowned, why did you look at him like that? Were you scared of something? Of him? Curiosity started to build up in his gut. As well as anger. Why did you ignore him like that? He didn't do anything. So why were you so weird today?

Another one that was absolutely furious was Wonwoo. You completely ignored him yesterday. Yes, he didn't make the best decision, and yes, punching your best friend was a bit extreme. But still, he wanted to apologize and you ignored him. Making him lose his temper. Barely sleeping at night because of it.

He waited for you in your locker, and when you walked right by him completely looking away, not even going to the locker he just felt more angry. Is that how you were going to be? Childish. He thought to himself. As if he didn't do exactly the same whenever he got mad at Seungcheol.

But he wasn't going to give up. No way. He was going to talk to you. Even if you didn't want to.

His plan was to wait for you at the end of your last class, so when everyone was leaving he could hold onto you and take you with him to talk.

What he didn't know is that Mingyu had the exact same plan as him. And he wasn't planning to give up either.

The time passed and the classes weren't that bad. You had spent your whole day with your friends, having a good time, completely forgetting about the other two boys. A big mistake.

Wonwoo left early not caring if the teacher would say something, he needed to make sure he was outside your class for when you left. But as he got closer a familiar face was standing there. Resting against the wall, looking at his phone.

"What are you doing here?" he asked frowning displeased by who he saw there.

"None of your fucking business" the other muttered still not looking up from his phone.

"This is not your class. What the fuck are you doing here?" he insisted.

"I could say the same thing to you." he looked up making eye contact with Wonwoo.

"I'm just waiting for y/n" he wanted to brag about you to Mingyu, because as he told you he owned your pussy, and that was one of his biggest achievements.

"What a coincidence then, I'm waiting for her too." he frowned crossing his arms.

"Don't fuck with me Kim, what are you doing here?" he already wasn't in the best mood, and hearing Mingyu joke around just made him lose it even more.

"I'm not fucking with you Jeon. I'm here to talk to y/n" His face kept displaying a displeased expression. Not only that but his brain was starting to think too much, why the fuck was Jeon Wonwoo waiting for you?

"And why would you even do that? She doesn't even like you. If you think you have a chance with her, forget it." You had never told him you hated Mingyu, but he just assumed it. You HAD to hate him, after all the stories he had explained to you, and after the other day, you definitely had to absolutely hate him. Right?

"Doesn't even like me?" He started laughing ironically enjoying Wonwoo's confused facial expression "Oh please, that's not what she says when my dick is burried deep inside of her" he shrugged his shoulders triumphant. Did Wonwoo think he had a chance with you? How stupid.

"What? What the fuck did you just say?" Wonwoo couldn't believe what he just heard. He had to be fucking around. Just to mess with him and make him angrier. That had to be it. Mingyu was not fucking you. It couldn't be.

"I said that that's not what she says-"

"I heard you. But you can't possibly be telling the truth." He laughed in disbelief shaking his head.

"Well I am, and if you want to see some evidence, I have pictures" He unlocked his phone starting to look for his hidden photo album of you. Once he found it he showed it to Wonwoo, a big smile on his face.

It was you. To Wonwoo's dismay it was actually you. All naked, a trail of Mingyu's cum all over your abdomen. Messy. Just how the giant liked it.

For some reason Jeon felt speechless. He couldn't believe you were also fucking Mingyu. Like you were mere fuck buddies. But still. It was Kim Mingyu, the man he hated the most. His enemy. The guy he wanted to beat up at any given chance because he couldn't stand him at all. It was like betraying him. You betrayed him, and you needed to pay for it.

"She's been playing both of us." He let out a serious tone, his eyes now hooded as he felt nothing but anger.

"What?" the younger frowned confused, still not understanding the situation.

"She's been playing both of us Mingyu. She has been fucking both of us." He looked at the boy dead serious. Taking in all his different expressions.

At first he was frowning, utterly confused, then he looked like he was processing all of the information, and then his face completely changed. Into a stern one. He couldn't believe it either. That's why you canceled him yesterday, to go and fuck Wonwoo.

"Wow... I can't fucking believe it. No one, absolutely no one plays with me like that. No. One." he crossed his arms, and Wonwoo did the same.

"We have to do something. Has she been ignoring you too?"

"Yes." he was still in disbelief. How could you? Why would you? Knowing how bad it could end, why did you even take the risk?

But that was a question that not even you could answer.

"Let's go to her house. I have a spear key." Wonwoo turned around, starting to walk hoping the other boy would follow him. And to his surprise, he did.

Mingyu hated Wonwoo, and he didn't quite understand what was the plan, or why was he just letting Wonwoo decide, but he wanted to make you pay. For simply not telling him the truth, and also fucking with Wonwoo in his back. Out of everyone why did it have to be him? Were you stupid?

"Take this" the eldest gave him a motorcycle helmet "this is the fastest way

to get there" Jeon put on his own helmet before getting on it.

Mingyu rolled his eyes before putting the helmet on and getting on the motorcycle with Wonwoo. What was even happening. Was he really taking him to your house, or was he going to absolutely murder him.He had no clue.

When he saw your house he finally calmed down. The possibilities of Wonwoo killing him weren't low. But apparently not to high either.

They went inside as if it was their own home and Wonwoo left his jacket on the table, not caring about the pretty decoration that was on top. He had no time to do that.

"So... Why are we even here?" The taller one asked looking around confused.

"If she wants to fuck both of us, let's see how well she can handle it." He sat down on the couch, making himself comfortable.

"We're going to fuck her? The both of us? At the same time?" Mingyu pointed at himself and then at Wonwoo repeatedly.

"Yes Mingyu. Are you fucking stupid? Or do you just not listen?" The eldest rolled his eyes looking away.

"Why would- Why are you- just why...?" he frowned.

"To teach her a lesson, to make her pay for lying to both of us, to make sure she never does it again." He was completely serious, scaring the taller male.

"Well I'm sorry but I don't like sharing."

"And you think I do? I'm fucking annoyed by this whole situation. Because honestly if it was someone else I would be fine. Kind of. But you? Out of all, you? For fucks sake it's like asking for disaster to happen. I didn't think she would be this fucking dumb. Maybe fucking her stupid was not a good idea after all"

"At the end she'll choose."

"What?"

"We're going to fuck her at the same time, but at the end, she's going to have to choose one of us. Or neither."

"Deal. I'll win anyways." He let out a soft laugh.

"You wish."

You were kind of nervous when you left class but to your surprise, neither of the boys were waiting for you. That calmed down your nerves and made you smile happily. Maybe it was never that difficult after all.

Both of your friends took you home before leaving to their own, and as you opened your front door you spotted a familiar vehicle near your house. But that couldn't be his. No way. You shook your head, deciding to ignore it.

As you entered your house and closed the door the keys immediately fell to the floor and you couldn't help but start trembling out of fear.

Jeon Wonwoo and Kim Mingyu where inside your house, sitting in your couch, looking at you with a gaze you had only seen when they looked at each other.

"W-what- why- I'm sorry" that's all you could say. They knew everything. There was no time to act dumb.

"You're sorry? I'm not really sure about that." Wonwoo was the first to speak up standing up from the couch and approaching you.

"You lied to us. You tricked us. How could you? Are you that desperate for cock? Wasn't one enough for you? I didn't think you were such a whore" Mingyu was the one who spoke now, also walking towards you.

They where both in front of you now, as your back hit the front door. The handle poking your back from behind, it hurt.

"I'm sorry, I really am, it just- it got out of hand, and well you know... we are just fuck buddies right...? it- it shouldn't be a problem" you couldn't back away anymore. but you wished you could. Their intense gazes on you were too much to handle. Leaving you uncomfortable.

"If it wasn't a problem why did you lie huh? You told me yesterday you had a to do project. I didn't know your teacher assigned you to fuck Wonwoo" his hand held onto your waist, slamming you back on the door, the handle hitting you once again. Making you wince in pain.

"I- I'm sorry. But you have to understand. I-I couldn't just tell you guys... You would have end up killing each other or something" your desperate eyes kept looking at both of them.

"Who do you think we are? Murderers?" Wonwoo's hand went to your neck imitating Mingyu's action, but softer. Making you hit your head on the door.

You closed your eyes, already expecting the absolute worse. You fucked up big time. There was no way to get away from this. You weren't sure about what was in their mind, but you knew it couldn't be good.

"Eyes on me. Open." you heard that low voice that usually aroused you, but not this time. How could it? Two of the most dangerous people you knew where cornering you against a wall, their strong grip on you.

You opened your tear filled eyes, not being able to look at neither of them for too long. Your vision foggy from the tears blocking your vision.

"Poor little thing, terrified" Mingyu let out a laugh before pressing harder on your side.

"You know what they say y/n, if you play with fire, you'll get burned. And it hurts." Wonwoo applied more pressure to your neck, making you panic and hold onto his wrist. You didn't want to die. Not like this.

"On your knees." the eldest let go of your neck and pushed you by your shoulders to the ground. Knees hitting the wood with a loud thud accompanied by a whine from you.

"You know what to do." Mingyu said while looking down at you.

You cleared your eyes, wiping away the tears and looking up at them. So this was their plan. To fuck you.

Maybe it wasn't as bad as you had thought. At the end of the day they still had some consideration towards you, right?

Your hands quickly moved towards Wonwoo's pants, to you he was the scariest out of the two, so it was better to start with him first.

Wonwoo had a shit eating grin all over his face making Mingyu's groan annoyed. Oh well you started with the older, whatever. That didn't annoy him, of course not.

He was definitely not annoyed when he gripped your hair making you look at him dead in the eyes "you've got two hands. Use them." he said letting go.

You struggled an absurd amount time to open each of their belts and zippers with one hand, but you didn't have much of a choice. It was better to follow their introductions than to wait for the consequences. Even if they couldn't be really bad.

"Me first." Mingyu once again pulled your hair towards him, dick slamming softly onto your cheek.

"You wish" Wonwoo now also gripped your hair pulling you to him, making you stay between their two cocks.

You simply opened your mouth, tongue lolling out, letting them use your mouth as they wished.

"Rock, paper scissors" Mingyu muttered, and Wonwoo just looked at him confused.

"We'll decide things by that. It's the quickest and easiest way right now" he frowned determined.

"You're so childish, why do you even like him?" he rolled his eyes but agreed to the game nonetheless by pulling his hand out towards the big giant.

"rock..."

"paper..."

"scissors..."

"shoot!" both of them said revealing how Wonwoo won by throwing a rock at Mingyu's scissors.

"I go first. As expected, you can't even win a rock paper scissors match against me" Wonwoo laughed with a smug smile holding onto you head now, directing your mouth directly onto his dick.

"Watch it Jeon. I won't hesitate to punch you..." Mingyu frowned angrily gripping your head so you would at least touch him at the same time.

"Shut up." the eldest groaned as he fucked into your mouth, enjoying the sensation the back of your throat gave him. Especially when you gagged and looked at him with those pretty bambi eyes, begging him to pull out so you could breathe.

"It's my turn don't you think...?" Mingyu pouted while looking directly at you, he wanted attention. He begged for attention. A true attention seeker at all costs, mainly to you. He wanted your attention.

"No. I won. I decide. You wait." Wonwoo threw the boy a glare and went back to his task of using your throat as his fuck toy.

"I'm not a dog for you to be talking at me like that." he punched the older on the shoulder.

"You sure are annoying like one, fuck off" he punched him back on the same spot.

You tapped onto Wonwoo's thigh, and he couldn't help but look at you. Immediately knowing what you ment by your sweet understanding eyes.

'Don't fight' he knew that that's what you were trying to say, and he didn't want to fight either, but it was so hard when Mingyu was being a dick. In his point of view of course.

He just decided to ignore the boy beside him and keep thrusting until he felt satisfied enough.

Once he pulled out you didn't waste any time and decided to go for Mingyu's. He had been waiting for too long, you even felt bad. Your hand couldn't possibly feel as good as your mouth. You all knew.

That's why Wonwoo wanted to make Mingyu wait, because he deserved it. He hated him so much. And even if he was mad at you, he was always going to be angrier at Mingyu. For simply breathing. Existing even.

Mingyu was already a whimpering mess. having to wait for you to touch him was something that never happened. It was usually the other way around, he was the one that railed you up. Not letting you touch yourself as he teased you as much as he could.

"Hey, just because you're sucking his dick doesn't mean you don't have to touch me." Wonwoo slapped your cheek slightly and you moved your hand.

Immediately going to grip his cock and pump him.

But Mingyu wasn't having it. Your attention should be on him now.

He shoved his dick deeper making you choke on his length. He was slightly bigger and thicker than Wonwoo so you could barely breathe. Nose pressed against his lower stomach.

You soon let go of Wonwoo to place both your hands on Mingyu's thighs trying to pull away slightly, wanting to have some air in your lungs.

The taller had now a proud smile on his face, finally getting what he wanted.

But of course Wonwoo wasn't going to let that happen. He couldn't lose to Mingyu.

His hand went in to pinch your nose, making sure you weren't breathing at all. Your eyes went to his a panicked look in your soft eyes, just as he wanted.

"You can take it. Can't you? Come on, keep sucking"

You closed your eyes and tried your best to keep on sucking Mingyu, you didn't have much of an option, his hands were gripping your hair and he was pushing your head towards him.

But you couldn't take it anymore, you were starting to feel dizzy like you could faint at any second.

One of your hands gripped Mingyu's thigh and the other tapped Wonwoo's wrist, and when he felt how weak your touch was he finally let go, pushing Mingyu's hands away so you could pull away and breathe.

You nearly collapsed on the floor, both hands keeping you up as you looked down, breathing heavily to recompose yourself. That was definitely intense, and it was only the beginning.

"Look up." you heard one of them say and you slowly did.

Mingyu nearly came by the look in your face. You looked absolutely fucked out, messy hair, red lips puffy and parted tongue slighty poking out so you could breathe, spit all over them, and your eyes. Oh your beautiful eyes, so innocent, looking at him like nothing had happened. So precious, so cute. God, he wanted to have you right there, ignore Wonwoo and just fuck you.

But he knew he couldn't. It was a competition. And he was very fair when it came to competing. Because he knew he had the abilities to win without cheating.

Wonwoo wasn't enduring it much better. You looked like an angel, there sitting on the floor while staring at him with those honey filled eyes. Gosh he wanted to have you all for himself so badly, to just take you to your room close the door and let Mingyu frustrated. But he wasn't going to do it. He wanted for you to choose him fairly. Because he knew that you would.

"On all fours baby, lead us to the room pretty" Wonwoo smiled, that smile that you absolutely adored, that made you all fuzzy inside.

"Weren't we supposed to punish her?" Mingyu asked crossing his arms looking at Wonwoo now.

"Yeah, what's your point??" Wonwoo asked confused.

"You just called her pretty, don't get me wrong, she absolutely is, but if she's being punished no cute nicknames should be allowed" he shrugged.

"Are you putting rules on how we should punish her? Jesus you're such a killjoy gosh" Wonwoo rolled his eyes "On all fours whore, come on walk." he pointed towards the hallway. "Happy now?" he glared at Mingyu.

"It feels more like a punishment now" He smiled following right behind you.

Both of them did once you started crawling towards your room, ass perked up letting them see your panties under your skirt. Might as well put on a show.

After entering your room the door was closed behind you and soon you felt Wonwoo's hand grip your hair pulling you up by it. You grimaced in pain and after you put on your best puppy eyes, maybe you could get them to forgive you, even just a little.

"Don't look at me like that. You know what you did, and you're getting what you deserve for it. Now climb on the bed and take off your clothes for us baby" he pushed you towards the bed.

You stumbled a little before getting on the bed. You went towards the middle and once you reached the spot you started undressing yourself.

You made eye contact with both of them while you threw the clothes around your room, putting on a show.

"Don't take the skirt off" Mingyu spoke up now "you know how much I love them on you" he smiled before approaching you.

Both of them slowly made their way towards you and you noticed they still had their shirts on, but you assumed it was another way of punishing you. Not letting you see or touch anything that wasn't their cock.

They climbed onto the bed and before doing anything Mingyu looked at Wonwoo, ready for another round of rock, paper scissors.

"Back door or front door?" Wonwoo asked.

"Back" Mingyu said without hesitation.

"You can have it. I want what's mine. This pussy" He gripped your legs and immediately pulled you towards him, now hovering over you.

"H-huh? Wait. Then I also want it! Come on rock paper scissors." he pushed Wonwoo, but the man wasn't having it.

"No. You said you wanted the back door. Now fuck off. Think before you speak next time, stupid motherfucker..." he glared at Mingyu before looking back at you.

"That's not fair" Mingyu mumbled angrily before moving and sitting against the bed headboard.

"Shut up, you're ruining the fucking mood by acting like a child. Gosh how do you handle this. Is he always this bitchy?" Wonwoo sighed tiredly.

"Kind of" you mumbled expecting Mingyu to not hear you.

"What the fuck do you mean by kind of?" He nearly spit out, anger growing inside of him.

"I'm sorry" you immediately mumbled sitting up, taking Wonwoo with you.

"You can't cum." The eldest warned before pulling you up and slamming into you without any other warning.

You moaned loudly holding onto his shoulders so you wouldn't fall down on the bed.

Mingyu didn't waste any more time and slid behind you, holding your waist before slowly pushing into your rim.

"Fuck" you managed to say while feeling how both of them filled you up.

It was new, but a good kind of new. You felt so full, so good. It was something you had never ever felt before, but you could definitely get used to it.

"No bad words. Pretty girls don't curse" Mingyu said after slapping your mouth.

"Pretty girls also don't lie and fuck your enemies behind their back, so I would say she's not a pretty girl. She's a whore. A cockslut that only thinks about fucking" Wonwoo muttered as his thrusts became harsher.

Both of them were going at a quick pace, you could feel them practically rearranging your guts. You could feel every inch, every vein, every angry touch against your waist. A grip so deadly that would definitely leave bruises.

They had no mercy at all, you didn't deserve it anyways. And you didn't want it. If punishment felt like this you would definitely misbehave more.

Their hands started wandering elsewhere, Wonwoo pinched your nipples while Mingyu slapped your ass harshly, leaving the red mark of his big hand there.

You were completely squeezed between them, enjoying the roughness of it all. They were usually pretty forceful and brute during sex, but this time it was extreme.

Wonwoo went to squeeze your neck smiling when you made eye contact with him, you could barely keep your eyes open as they kept rolling back from the sensation.

Your mouth was agape, letting out whimpers, moans, strangled words, and weird sounds you couldn't even decipher what they were.

It felt like your tongue was going numb, you couldn't even think about anything else that wasn't the two boys.

"Pretty little cock slut, look at her, all fucked out and dumb, my pretty dumb baby" Wonwoo smiled and let go of your neck.

"No. MY pretty dumb baby" he made a particular sharp thrust making you almost scream.

"Shut up. Mine." Wonwoo started sucking on your neck leaving a pretty mark there, proudly looking at it.

"No. Mine." Mingyu also reached for your neck, leaving a hickey right on the other side.

They looked at each other with hate filled gazed before continuing their job to fuck you stupid.

Even if you already were.

You wanted to come so bad, but you couldn't, you knew you couldn't. You didn't want to make things worse.

You held onto Wonwoo's shoulders tightly containing everything inside, making your insides squeeze both of them.

And to your fortune (and their misfortune) they came, shooting everything inside you. Every single drop.

You couldn't help but pant loudly, head resting back onto Mingyu's shoulder.

"That was amazing" he mumbled against your ear and you nodded.

"I hope you learned your lesson, because now, you'll have to choose" Wonwoo pulled out from you, admiring the way your hole pulsated while letting his cum out.

"w-what..?" you looked at him extremely confused.

Mingyu also pulled away now, coping Wonwoo while staring at your ass, clearly enjoying the view.

"Choose. Me or Mingyu."

"Wonwoo... I- I can't do that..." you shook your head looking down, bitting slightly onto your lower lip.

"Yes you can. Choose one y/n. Me or Mingyu."

You looked up now, just to see Mingyu sitting next to Wonwoo. And you couldn't help but look at both of them. You felt helpless. What were you supposed to do? Choose? Between them? No. You couldn't.

"I really can't Wonwoo... I-I'm sorry- but I just can't" you were so nervous not knowing what went inside Wonwoo's mind, but it was definitely something not good.

His face told you everything. He was disappointed. Disappointed because you didn't choose him like he thought you would. He thought it was an easy thought. That you would just blurt out his name without hesitation.

"Neither it is then." He stood up and you immediately held onto his wrist.

"No, Wonwoo please... Don't do this please... Don't make me choose, I don't want to lose neither of you please" tears started rolling down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry, but we made kind of a deal... At the end you had to choose one of us or neither..." Mingyu muttered awkwardly while standing up.

"No. Why? I don't get it" you tried to chase after Wonwoo but you could barely stand up after what happened.

"It's a pride thing. We can't just share you... That would be the lowest of low. It was already torture to share you with him right now... If it wasn't because you feel so good I would have beat him already" Mingyu said while looking at Wonwoo.

"I guess love is really like sour grapes" Wonwoo muttered before heading out your room, he needed to get his pants and leave. Leave before he felt more like a piece of shit.

'Love?' you thought to yourself. Did Wonwoo love you...? No. That couldn't be. You guys were just fuck buddies. Then why did he say that, why did it hurt so fucking much. Gosh. You didn't even understand yourself.

"I'm sorry y/n... I guess this is the last time we're seeing each other. Goodbye" Mingyu looked away and walked towards the living room where his pants where.

With the little strength you had left you stood up and put on a hoodie, walking to the living room, seeing both boys there.

"Y/n it's not worth it. We made a deal. And a deal is a deal." Mingyu stated before finishing to zip up his pants.

Wonwoo looked at your direction and you couldn't stop crying, you couldn't even mutter a single word, you just didn't want them to leave. Not like this.

"P-p-please..." you whimpered while shaking your head.

"Goodbye" He said before heading out, both of them did. Leaving you all alone.

You were a crying mess, now kneeling down on the floor as you couldn't stop. You felt horrible, you couldn't forget Wonwoo's look and words. They didn't leave your head. Should you have chosen him? But Mingyu was so important to you too, you couldn't possibly do that. You didn't do it before. That's why you fucked both to begin with.

Wonwoo also felt miserable. If he had just told you the truth to begin with nothing of this would have happened. He was stupid. Stupid and lonely. A loser.

Mingyu also felt bad. Seeing you cry like that made him feel like a criminal that just killed your parents in front of your pure eyes. But he was a man of pride, and he always kept his word. He couldn't simply break it for you, not when he knew Wonwoo would probably punch him if he did. And he was definitely not the mood for another fight.

"Well, I guess this is over now... Neither of us won" The taller said before sighing heavily.

"I fucking hate you." those were Wonwoo's words before driving away in his motorcycle.

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main masterlist

svt masterlist

[mae-i-scribble]

I'm so so so happy that the anime is finally here!!!! I watched it as soon as I could even being exhausted after work and it was so worth it. Literally just a direct shot of happiness into my veins. I had a good feeling about the show after the trailers but as a long time manga fan I really am overjoyed that the show is doing it justice!! As a romantic comedy almost gag manga the show absolutely delivers. Some cuts feel a bit abrupt when they didn't need to be but there were also some perfectly timed shot cut aways that made everything so much better. I also really loved the little sound effects, like the beeps of confusion and the little angry noises in time to Hagi's angry expression signs dancing around him when Suo is revealed to be the "prince" of their school. Overall the animation is incredibly well drawn, with minimal motion in favor of putting emphasis on expressions. It can be a bit noticeable at times that they're def cutting down on production costs but overall it never took me out of the show or took away from the enjoyment of the comedy. It's more something I notice because I really love animation and will always keep an eye on it when watching any animated media. The voice acting in it is also fairly standard in regards to my expectations. From the initial trailers I wasn't too sure about Tokiwa's voice but watching this episode made me really appreciate it. I love the near constant underlying anxiety/confusion when it comes to him interacting with Suo, and in general his anxious noises are great fun. Kohaku's voice I was also pleasantly surprised by. From the trailers it sounded like they were going for a more stereotypical tsundere voice archetype for her. In the show itself though it's not nearly as aggressive and the inflection overall feels very true to her character. Everyone else's voices were excellently done! Those two are just the ones that surprised me in a good way. I also love love loved seeing the scene at the arcade that wasn't there in the manga. It just flowed so seamlessly and gave me more character moments with everyone which is exactly what I want. Anime please give me more of this in the future I will eat this up like candy. I want to do an anime/manga comparison sometime for fun but that's for another post. The opening/ending are both very fucking cute. I don't much care for the song choice but the animation for them both is perfect. I also love the way the two connect with the dancing aspect. In the opening in particular each pair is: Suo is as cool and collect as always while Tokiwa is high key embarrassed and having a time (tm)

Hagi and Kohaku who are both very bewildered (Hagi is definitely having another internal crisis) but doing their best

Asagi and Fuji who are just vibing together having fun

They also then do a really cool ending sequence with the girls in casual attire and the boys as plushies that also is just a great showing of their relationships. Kohaku choosing Hagi out via claw machine as a callback to that little dog he gives her during their first meeting and in the way that neither of them really appears to be the others type when it comes to attraction but are choosing to pursue something with each other for vairous reasons (spoilers but not so obvious with kohaku at this point but story definitely is leaning in that direction). In that regard Kohaku's nervousness is a really cute thing.

Then you get Fuji at the convention hall floor with Asagi sitting on her table when she pats his head. Really showing his dedication to helping her with her passion while showing Fuji's reserved way of expressing affection. For me it's also a fun way of showcasing his ignorance of what she actually draws XD

Notably, Suo is the only one of the girls still in drag- and spoilers ahead in this but that is most certainly with purpose. She's the one who changes her persona the most drastically between work and casual life with none of the struggle Kohaku has. As the manga goes on it's also incredibly clear that Suo keeps many walls up between herself and the people around her. And even when approaching Tokiwa, she is far more outgoing/pushy when masc presenting rather than fem presenting. Even in this shot, they're at the bar, her job, where she can be safe to express her interest under the disguise of her work persona coming on a little strong. But when left to her own devices, she just wants to watch Tokiwa fondly, not even reaching out to him or anything. (When are we getting the explanation for why Suo fell for Tokiwa so hard PLEASE i am on my hands and fucking knees)

Overall the anime is 11/10 I am so in love and am waiting eagerly for episode 2. I'm also so excited to see more fans who find this story via the anime because yes it deserves so much

[wilted3sunflowers]

This is my Miku pokemon trainer tier list

For this tier list its both my favorites and what i consider a very good miku design

Of course all of them are good miku designs but some shine above the rest

S tier- my absolute favorites Bug miku is so classy, so well thought out, and i think the brown looks amazing with her teal. Shes everything A close tie with bug miku is Ice miku her hair is everything to me im in complete love with this sharp miku. Water Miku is basic but that's all she needs in lovely simplicity, truly feeling like Miku in this world as a water trainer especially with her tan lines from her original outfit it feels like this is her off time from being an idol! Steel Miku had my heart as soon as I saw her with Jirachi. Which was my favorite pokemon when I was a child [it was prior before i even had any pokemon games of my own and only watched the movies] The colors, the motif of star, the hat and the hair its all wonderful to me!

A tier- Amazingly done concepts and totally miku! Rock Miku's dress and veil is lovely, i love they incorporated the veil as mock pigtails. If this was the verison of her without the dress then she would have been in S tier. I love the jester look but thats my own personal preference. She also reminds me of diance with the dress.

Flying Miku is gorgeous, the wispy hair, the translucent areas to mimic clouds and mist. It's an amazing concept and wonderfully executed design! Fairy miku i know is everyones favorite and it's obvious to see why, shes adorable and cute and I too would love to draw her. She has that appeal to her down to a T. Fighting Miku is something i've been waiting for this whole time. Of course no way they could do a pokemon collab with miku and not include farfetch'd! It's a sleek and simple design that takes traits of the original miku's outfit and tweaks them. Though she does kind of remind me of maka from soul eater just a small bit.

B tier- Great concepts! Electric Miku's lightening pigtails are so cute she looks like a little adventure/farmer of currents. She stands on her own as a design and as a tie to miku. Poison type Miku i would have done the same doing mucky/slime twintails though i probably wouldn't have thought to use the new alolan muk which is a very good look and helps add in the colors. It's a great design and while i wouldve put her in A tier some of her design elements hold me off. This is a top tier character design though trust me Dark Miku, i love she came with obstagoon. Though at first i couldnt even tell if miku had pigtails in the artwork. This reminds me just of a nice miku for a cover of an existing song which is not bad it's just how it feels. Normal type miku has good colors, shes paired with an active singing pokemon and while it's simple I think it conveys miku well enough. Though she keeps reminding me of the oversaturated stereotype of early 90s fashion. now on Ghost miku, shes higher than i'd actually put her but for her concept and simplicity of staying to miku but as a glitched out ghost version of her i do have to give props to that even if i find it more on the plain side. I think they succeeded in what was necessary even though this portrays miku AS the ghost instead of just a ghost trainer. ....honestly now that i type my words i feel like i was right and shouldve stuck with her in C tier.

C tier- too basic for my tastes yet still well done Grass miku is cute and all but if you told me she was unrelated to miku, i could believe you. Just that it'd be a fandom joke to call her 'green miku'

Fire miku, reminds me all too much of the anniversary miku song and im sure thats where they got part of the insipration from it but it doesnt really do much for me combined with the fire aspect and how her hair is shaped. I know its to mimic the pokemon shes with its just personal taste on that one. The silhoutte is good.

Ground type miku i had to keep looking up because i forget what shes supposed to be numerous times. Same case with grass miku, i could see someone telling me shes from x thing and unrelated to miku. I'm just not a fan of the design and colors but it's well done. I know when something is just my subjective taste rather than poorly done.

Dragon miku while i'm not the biggest fan of all the cowlicks going down the twintails i know it's purpose is there to mimic the spiked tail of a traditional dragon and i wouldn't want them removed. I think i especially just don't like the tacked on half shawl cape it feels disjointed. Yet i find its a nice concept they did both an almost knight look for her as dragon as always with the concept of knights and dragons battling. Now the knight trainer is battling with the dragon as comrades.

Psychic type miku- i think they started with the least interesting and noteworthy one honestly. It just looks, kind of uninspired but thats rude to say. I know shes here to fufill the concept of miku as a trainer in pokemon and well it just looks like she's her own trainer class that'd have multiple running around looking the same instead of a stand out like a rival or a gym leader in game.

[barb-l]

Isn't a writer question but was curious; How does wenclair different from other ships you've enjoyed?

Is it solely due to having been a lifelong Wednesday Addams fan, or is it specifically the Netflix's Addams world that you find intriguing?

I ask mainly because I recall you once saying that your wenclair comics--specifically the Next Gen Au I believe--are written and made with a lot of intention in regards to dialog and the discussions had between characters.

Is this due to a greater insight into the characters or simply a mark of growth in writing comprehension?

I like to think I put as much thought in all ships I've been hyperfixated on tbh. Wenclair isn't even the one I've been obsessed with the longest. So far it's actually Trimberly, for which and I was hyperfixated with for like 3 years.

But yeah ok I get ur point lol The intensity this time feels different, I suppose.

I think it's a mix of both being a long time Wednesday Addams fan and how cute of a ship Wenclair is both in concept and the canon execution of their dynamics.

As some of you are aware, I've been a fan of The Addams for a while now. All incarnations of them are great in their own way, but one of the many reasons why the animated 2019 movie is my favorite is because it didn't give Wednesday a bland ass male love interest. I don't think the B/W series did it(because Wed was like six in that) but the 90's movies, musical, and netflix series for some reason found it necessary to give Wednesday male love interests so painfully boring and i hate it. This isn't even about making Wednesday attracted to boys. I personally headcanon her bi, as the ol' stereotype that all grumpy/angsty female characters must be lesbian isn't my cup of tea, and also because I like to think all Addamses just don't give a shit about gender when it comes to romance. I woulda been fine with her getting a boyfriend so long as they're not boring af and goddddd canon incarnations still haven't delivered. Joel was sweet but he was too much of a wimp, not even Gomez is that pathetic. Lucas' thing with Wednesday was just portrayed in such an icky way in the musical that I couldn't finish watching by the time their sexually charged duet came on, and don't even get me started on the boys Netflix gave her. I expected better of Gough and Millar...(unless the blandness was on purpose like it was with Lana Lang--)

Anyways, because of all said canon love interests, I've been desperate for Wednesday to have a love interest that is both not painfully het or boring for once. Crossover shipping with Lydia Deetz from Beetlejuice the Musical was fun but was ultimately a very niche fandom. I could only draw and write for an audience of twenty or so people for so long. Parker from the animated movie would've been great, but the cop out with her mom dating Fester just made it too weird for me to be fully on board with the ship.

So when Enid Sinclair was introduced as a character I was absolutely ecstatic. On paper alone she already seemed great. She has a very distinct appearance (even if her "design" was inspired by Harlequin and it shows) that goes so well when she stands next to Wednesday, whether it's in the actual show, fan arts, or even in official merch. Her being Wednesday's complete opposite in so many ways makes her being paired with Wednesday so dang interesting too.

And I don't just mean aesthetic or personality wise. I'm talking about how one of Wednesday's struggle stems from having too much smothering love from her family as someone who gets overwhelmed too easily, and Enid's loneliness and insecurity coming from her own family's lack of love and attention where it matters most. Or how Wednesday's just girl who, deep inside worries about being an actual cruel monster like the very bigots she hates, while Enid is a supposed beast who resents herself for only being a scared little girl. Even the fact that Wednesday is an older sister to a soft-hearted younger brother while Enid is the youngest daughter to a bunch of rough-housing older brothers feels very on purpose.

Everything about Enid feels deliberate. Like she IS supposed to be paired with Wednesday, platonically or romantically. She's the best person to stand beside Wednesday as a character because they have enough differences and similarities to have interesting conflicts but also significant character growths sparked by each other. She's not bland or boring like the canon love interests because even without her attachment to Wednesday, Enid is still such a compelling character. The mere fact that she's as popular as she is despite an eight-episode series being her debut in a franchise that's been iconic to generations is already pretty amazing, and only a character as impressive deserves to smooch somebody as iconic as Wednesday Addams.

And their on screen chemistry is just *chef's kiss*

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : steamed?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear scrambled eggs,

I kissed someone on new years. I kissed that model I was talking about in my last letter on new years. Oh my god. I'm like. I don't know I'm like going through it right now. But you know what happened to me?? I FORGOT TO GET THEIR NUMBER. Sorry, I know I don't usually write like this but I'm so mad at myself for completely missing her number. Ugh...

I've decided to draw fireworks to indicate that it's the new year. I hope you had fun on new years as well. Maybe you were with your best friend? Tell me more about it, will you? I realized very quickly after leaving with my two friends that day that I have like no friends. Are we friends? I'm guessing yes since you're... well, giving me love advice and whatnot.

Other life updates... I've been home with my dog a lot more often lately. He's called Sunny. He's a golden retriever. I've had people tell me that he looks just like me, and, well, obviously because he's my son. I'm his dad, who else would he look like? (joke (am I using this right)). My manager told me to take the week between christmas and new years off, and a handful of days off in the beginning of January off. I have a shoot in a little bit, but it's less of a modeling shoot and more of a... face-modeling gig? I'll be the face model of a game or something. Sounds a little familiar, but oh well.

Okay, back on the topic of that model. I didn't get to bond with her but in the blurred memories of my drunk self, I did get to kiss her. quite passionately too. Like, I was fully hunched over her on the couch or something. And get this, she called me sugarlips. sugarlips. Crazy! Does that mean I was a good kisser? Okay, my rationality is telling me that it was just because she was drunk or whatever, but she picked me so that's gotta count for something.

Ugh, what is this? A stereotypical high school romance? I'm not a teenager anymore. I really gotta get my life together and start having my manager book more. Maybe I'll see them— I mean, I gotta forget about them, obviously.

Thank you for the stickers! One of the dogs look eerily like Sunny, so I'm sending you two polaroids of him. I hope you don't mind that he's the one I'm sending this time. I keep all of my cameras on me at all times, so maybe I'll send you a photo of Ada if I ever get the chance.

look forward to your next letter, Christmas

True to his word, Leon is back to modeling back and forth as soon as his little break ends. He meets new models, small talk easy on his lips as he makes acquaintances. He finds that it's not all that hard to talk to people, and he's sure it has to do with the fact that he's no longer someone who prefers sticking to the shadows. Well, he wouldn't have been able to get far if he did in the modeling industry. He still needs to meet Ada.

"Oh, Leon, was it?"

Leon jumps in his skin at the sight of Ada with the same dots on her face as him.

"A-Ada! I'm honored you remember my name." Well, there goes his cover or a normie.

Ada laughs, waving her hand. "Did you get scouted for this too?"

"Yeah." He mumbles. "I don't know what to expect from this."

"Well, neither do I, so... we'll tough through this together?"

"Please take care of me." Leon nods.

"I can't take care of you if I don't know what's going on either." Ada laughs lightly, turning her head as she spots a familiar sight in the crowd. "Oh, found them."

"Are you..." Leon follows her gaze and spots you of all people, and he blinks. "Friends?"

"Something closer than that." Ada nods, waving. "See you around, rookie!"

Leon nearly has a heart attack at the first half of his undercover twitter username. No, there's no way she knows — and, while he's calming his heart, he barely notices the way you step up to him, brow raised amusedly as he jumps in his skin.

"Ah, so that's where your eyebrow ends." You blink at his face, humming slowly as you map it out with your eyes.

Leon blinks back at you, holding his breath from your proximity.

"Sweetheart, the poor man isn't breathing."

You take a step back at Ada's words, continuing to blink at his face, and Leon wonders if you even remember that you kissed on new years.

"Hey, do—"

Ada cuts in, smiling at Leon, and Leon wonders if it was on purpose. "Wanna say hi to Luis and Wesker? They're here too."

"Oh, god, yes!" You gasp, turning on your heel, waving bye to Leon before skipping after Ada.

Was that... was that on purpose?

prev post : masterlist : next letter

[silvermoon424]

For any of your OCs do you have inspiration(s) for their attacks? What they would look like or how the animation style would be like, etc.?

*GOES ABSOLUTELY FERAL AT THE CHANCE TO TALK ABOUT MY OCS*

Ahem, yes, I have given some thought to their attacks!

Erina:

Her main weapon is a bow. She fires arrows made out of magical energy. She has powers over holy light and love.

Basically a LOT of inspo for her bow attacks comes from Madoka Kaname, especially how her attacks are animated in Magia Record. Her finishing move is firing an arrow into a sigil she made up above, which then shoots down a huge beam of energy (very "Pluvia Magica" coded)

Because she's the super special MC, she also has a secondary weapon: a stereotypical magic wand (I haven't decided yet whether the weapon was born through her own power or inherited from a former/fallen magical girl).

The attacks with the magic wand are more Sailor Moon-coded, especially Rainbow Moon Heartache, Silver Moon Crystal Power Kiss, etc. There are also some original attacks I've come up with that I don't really know how to explain lol. Just imagine huge pink energy hearts everywhere!

Iris:

Her weapons are a pair of chakrams (haven't 100% decided on that but that's what I'm going with for now). She has powers over space and the stars/planets as well as the ability to create wormholes.

A lot of her attacks have to do with wormhole creation (if an enemy is too powerful or annoying, she'll just yeet them into space or a different dimension lmao)

Her star-based attacks are inspired largely by star-based Cures from Precure.

Rhae:

I honestly haven't given much thought to her weapon yet, but I was thinking it's a fancy gun of some kind. She has powers over fire.

She also utilizes an electric guitar to help her control flames and get them even wilder (each of the girls has an instrument that's their signature and that they play both in and out of battle btw- Erina's is the flute, Iris's is the tambourine, and Luna's is the violin- but I imagine that Rhae uses her instrument the most)

She's all about the raw destructive power of fire. LOTS of inspo from Sailor Mars here (who heavily inspires Rhae in general, lol). Some of her powers have more pinpoint accuracy, drawing energy from the flames themselves.

Luna:

Her weapon is a halberd. She has the ability to create as many of them as she wants (similar to Mami Tomoe with her muskets). She has powers over water primarily, and some powers over ice.

Her fighting style is very elegant. She can summon massive amounts of water from thin air and can drown opponents or fire water at such high pressure it can cut through anything.

Like Rhae, she can also draw out the energy of water in her attacks.

Some of her attacks involve summoning dozens of halberds and unleashing them all at once on her opponents.

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Lot to Learn

Pairing: Michael Ormewood x fem!reader (tv show characterization)

Summary: After his wife leaves, Ormewood runs into you after not seeing you since high school. He realizes he has a lot to learn about you and french braids.

Warnings: fluff, divorce, Cooper is a matchmaker, r grew up in Atlanta and went to school with Ormewood

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

A/N: I grew up in the deep south and just need to applaud this show for their approach to the setting and the stereotypes. Also, Jake was the perfect choice for Ormewood and the french braid topic in 2x06 was begging me to write this. If there's an audience for this fic, I hope you find it and enjoy it!🤍

Michael Ormewood was destined for bigger and better things than Atlanta. You knew in high school, though you only watched him from a distance. He didn’t know you existed, let alone how much you believed in him and his abilities, even when everyone else doubted he’d do anything more than play sports and get into trouble.

So, when he came back to Georgia after the Army and got married, you were surprised, to say the least. The playboy you once wished to know had settled down, had a few kids, and worked his way to detective at the APD. Whenever you see his name in the papers now, you wish once again to know and love Michael Ormewood.

Spending your morning in the police station isn’t ideal, but when they asked for information about a building near where you work, you agreed to come down and answer any questions you could. While talking to the officer, you don’t notice two detectives walk in behind you. Or one stop in his tracks when he sees you.

“She looks so familiar,” Ormewood mumbles as he watches you.

“What’s in the envelope?” Angie asks.

“Divorce papers.”

“Oh!” Angie exclaims. “Are you, uh, are you going to sign them?”

“Oh, not that kind. These are the congratulations; you’re divorced now papers.”

“Ormewood, I’m so sorry.”

“Do you recognize her?”

“What?”

Ormewood points toward you, and Angie purses her lips before shaking her head. She doesn’t recognize you, but she feels like she's about to get whiplash from Ormewood’s quick change of subject. A text from Will draws Angie’s attention, and she directs a very distracted Ormewood toward the elevator to go to a murder scene.

Just as the doors open, you walk up behind Ormewood and join him and Angie in the elevator. He glances at you repeatedly before Angie sighs and leans against the back wall.

“I’m so sorry,” he begins. “But do we know each other?”

You smile and say, “We went to high school together.”

Your smile disappears and your brows raise when he says your name. There’s no reason he should have ever known who you are, but the fact that he remembers after all these years catches you off guard.

“Yeah, that’s me. I’m surprised you remember.”

“Me too,” Angie interjects. “And I didn’t even know you in high school.”

“I was pretty much the same,” Ormewood defends.

“No, you weren’t,” you say softly.

“What do you mean?”

The elevator door opens, and you step out. Leaving Ormewood feels wrong, but you both have lives now, and they are in no way connected.

“It was nice to see you, Ormewood,” you call as you leave.

“You went by Ormewood in high school, didn’t you?” Angie asks excitedly. “Oh, I should’ve guessed that!”

“Why did Mom come and get all of her stuff while we were at school?” Cooper asks. “Did you get divorced? Like Solange’s parents?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Ormewood answers carefully. “But that doesn’t mean we love you or your brother any less.”

“Does it mean you’ll finally learn to French braid my hair?”

Ormewood chuckles at Cooper’s choice of focus but promises that he will learn every hairstyle she wants.

“Let’s master the French braid first,” she decides.

The second time you run into Ormewood, he’s glad that Angie isn’t with him. She’s been teasing him about the encounter in the elevator since it happened. So, when he and Cooper are out shopping, and he sees you walking toward him, he sees another chance.

“Hey,” he says as he gets closer.

“Hi,” you reply happily.

“I heard the information you gave burglary was really helpful.”

You smile at Cooper, but her eyes are laser-focused above your face.

“Your hair is really pretty,” she tells you.

“Thank you! Yours is, too,” you reply.

“Dad’s learning. I’m Cooper.”

You introduce yourself before shifting the shopping basket in your hand to shake hers. “Braids are hard sometimes, but it looks like he’s getting there.”

“Did you do yours?” she asks.

“I did. I learned how to do a lot of braids and other things with my hair when I was a little older than you.”

“My mom can do French braids, but they don’t look like yours.”

At the mention of Cooper’s mom, you remember that you don’t know Ormewood anymore, and this is nothing more than a polite conversation. You do, however, notice that Ormewood doesn’t have a ring on his finger. It doesn’t matter, you remind yourself, because things were never going to be different between you and Ormewood.

“Well, good luck with the braids, Cooper, and it was very nice to meet you,” you offer.

“You too! Dad, I’ll get the cereal,” she says.

When she’s on the other side of you, you meet Ormewood’s eyes and smile.

“She’s great,” you say.

“She has her moments. Listen, thanks for the hair talk. I’m trying but I get lost after the first two seconds,” he replies with a chuckle.

“Just keep practicing. They’re only hard until you learn how to do them right.”

“And if I can’t do that?”

“Fake it. Or find someone who can teach you. It was great seeing you again.”

You disappear around the corner before Ormewood says anything else. Cooper skips back to him with three different kinds of cereal, and he doesn’t complain when she puts them in the cart.

“She’s nice. Are you friends?” she asks.

“I want to be. We went to high school together but haven’t seen each other in a long time.”

“You should invite her over for dinner.”

“You think?”

Cooper nods, and Ormewood wonders when she got smarter and more intuitive than him.

“Just don’t kiss until after I go to bed, Dad.”

Ormewood freezes and his eyes widen. He hasn’t considered what exactly he wanted to happen after you got close again - or for the first time, as it seems - but he can’t argue that it doesn’t sound nice.

“What are you watching?” Angie asks over Ormewood’s shoulder.

“French braid tutorial,” he mumbles.

“You can’t learn from a video, you have to do it,” Will interjects.

“And you’re the expert on French braiding, now?” Ormewood retorts.

“I’m better off than you. Angie made me learn to help her get ready in high school.”

“Then teach me, Trent!”

“No.”

“Detective Ormewood,” an officer calls. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

Ormewood leaves the video playing, and Angie and Will begin critiquing the looseness of the braid in the video. He rolls his eyes and hopes that whoever asked to see him has something worth his time.

“I really hope you’re not here to confess a crime,” he jokes when he sees you waiting.

“Not today,” you answer lightly.

“Then… why are you here?”

“Uh, did you text me last night?”

“What? No. I don’t even have your number; not that I don’t want it, but I don’t have it.”

You pass your phone over, and your fingers brush against Ormewood’s as he takes it. He reads the text twice before shaking his head.

“Angie. My partner must have gotten your number from burglary. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t think it was from you.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not… we’re really different, Ormewood.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t text you. Coop wanted me to invite you over for dinner, so maybe Angie actually did me a favor.”

“I, uh, I have to get back to work. If you decide to text me again, great, but don’t feel like you have to.”

“Are you rushing you because of Cooper or is something else bothering you?”

“Ormewood…”

“Just tell me. If you don’t want me to text, I won’t.”

“I remember what it’s like to watch you from a distance, and I don’t know if I want to do that again," you admit.

“Ormewood, we caught a break,” Angie calls from the door behind him. She sees your face and shakes her head. “Tell her you’re divorced and let’s go.”

“You’re divorced?” you ask as he says, “That’s what you meant?”

“Someone divorced you?” you rephrase.

“Look, I regret not getting to know you in high school, but- I’ll text you.”

“I’ll text back,” you promise.

The next invitation text comes from Ormewood’s number, but it’s clearly not him. When your phone rings a moment later, you’re not entirely surprised to hear Cooper on the other end of the line.

“Hi, Cooper. Desperate for a French braid, aren’t you?” you ask.

“Please!” she begs.

“Does your dad know you’re inviting me over?”

“He won’t care, I promise.”

“That’s not what I asked, Cooper.”

“Give me the phone, Cooper,” someone says in the background. “This is Special Agent Will Trent with the GBI. The French braid situation is growing violent and you’re an expert. Get down here now.”

He hangs up and asks Cooper, “Can I stop trying now?” as you look at your phone in confusion.

Cooper scrolls through your photos and asks questions about you and your life (including your nonexistent history with her dad) while you braid her hair.

“He’s texting you,” she says suddenly. “Wants to know if you’ll come over for dinner tonight.”

“What do you think?” you hum. “Am I too busy?”

“Maybe,” she answers.

You secure the end of the first braid with an elastic band and ask her to go look in the mirror to make sure she likes it. Her excited squeal is all the approval you need. As she gets comfortable in front of you again, you start the second braid. The door opens, and your hands stop in her hair as Ormewood steps inside.

“That’s why you didn’t answer,” he says with a smile.

“Special Agent Will Trent of the GBI told me I had to come braid her hair,” you explain quietly.

He looks at Cooper, who shrugs and says, “Angie was busy.”

“Thanks for helping,” Ormewood says. “Mind if I watch?”

You move to the right and he sits beside you, watching as you braid slowly. He asks a few questions about how you’re doing it, and you demonstrate as you answer.

“I bet you can do it now that you’ve seen it from the right angle,” you murmur as you secure the second braid.

“You can try tomorrow, Dad, I’m going to Abby’s.”

Cooper rushes out of the front door, and you turn toward Ormewood. He’s already facing you, and it’s impossible to break eye contact in the new proximity.

“So, dinner?” you whisper.

“Yeah. I’ve got a lot to learn about you.”

[livinginshambles]

Preview: I thought you'd be different | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: A Cinderella Story, but Hogwarts. (Enemies? to lovers)

Notes: Sorry I've been mia; i wrote this today, it's all I have so the full fic will probably take a while, not proofread, mistakes blah blah, enjoy!

PS. I am currently no longer making a taglist because I can't keep up with it, I'm really sorry!

Masterlist. Taglist

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

You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory.

That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you closed your eyes.

“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what you sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.

“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.

But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.

You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments.

A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.

“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard.

“Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”

“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eyeroll, but seemed unphased.

“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step.

To be petty or not to be petty, you sighed and rolled your eyes.

“10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you decided.

The two marauders started to protest.

“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” It effectively shut them up, and with a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.

When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.

You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.

James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner.

He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air. Of course, levitating stuff wasn't that strange, but it had intrigued him nonetheless.

James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl who was crying on a bench under the tree, appeared.

James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams.

(Credits to Professor McGonagall who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.)

It’s beautiful.

You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.

Full fic

[eldhuug]

no one else can say what your intentions were but its really…odd to draw the brown character in a pairing as a huge beast while the white character is just a normal guy. especially when youre white yourself

Hi anon, I don't take this lightly, so I'm sorry if my answer to your ask is a little too long

The comic was made as a spoof of the beauty and the beast movie, with the monster being what I hoped was similar to the movie design with the image description making it clear what I was referring to. The two characters in question, Kabru and Laios, have wildly different attitudes towards monsters. Laios, the white man, has a deep and intense love for monsters that would subvert the point of the movie which I hoped people would find amusing as a play on their characters.

It was in no way my intention to play into the stereotyping of brown characters as beastly or predatory, especially as he turned back into himself and looks like he does in the series without any features changed to make him appear bigger or more aggressive than he is. I have been very aware of the trend in which black and brown men have been made bigger/more aggressive and assertive I'm ways that are often distinctly out of character and always rooted in racism for a long time and have done my utmost to avoid it in my work. If I have failed to do that, I'm sorry.

 If my work comes across as pedaling racist stereotypes I'm not going to defend any intention I might have had, as my intention wouldn't matter since I am white and I sincerely apologize. 

Through the process of making the comic I posted it on my private Twitter and did not receive any reaction that my work that it was out of line or offensive, and while I do trust that my friends who are POC would notify me if I was drawing a comic rooted in racism, I also know this can be difficult to do and I don't want it to come across as mindlessly pushing the responsibility on to my friends when it's entirely mine.

I hope I have addressed what you were wondering about, and if there is anything lacking with my response or anything else you wanted me to connect on, my ask and messages are always open 

[acourtofthought]

I love how SJM looked right at Lucien and said, get ready boy, you're going to be happy but I'm going to make you suffer for it first 😂

"But does he honestly expect me to spend the rest of my life in that manor, overseeing servants"

“Mrs. Laurent, draw up some tea and bring it to the drawing room.”

Her chin lifted slightly. “We’ll send the servants away tomorrow.”

and wearing pretty clothes?”

Eight years of poverty hadn’t stripped from her the desire to look lovely.

“and hurried down the hall before I could explain that no one cared if she showed up to dinner covered in flour and that she should just sit.

She does not dream beyond her garden and pretty clothes.

Lucien watched the ever-young forest. “Isn’t that what all human women wish for? A handsome faerie lord to wed and shower them with riches for the rest of their lives?”

He almost had it right..........until he got:

“I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.” She wanted a human man.

I love Elain and Lucien as a pairing because both have / had these pre-conceived notions about the others race that created this drama in their setup (it's all so very Pride and Prejudice!). Not to mention they both started their journey accepting of their stations in life rather than pushing for more (he as Tamlin’s second and she as a lady of a household).

Lucien was under the impression that humans had no interests “Don’t you have any … interests?” “No.” Not entirely true, but I wasn’t about to explain the painting to him. So typically human" and that they matched the picture that Feyre painted in her head about life with Tamlin, their only concern, finding a Fae suitor who would provide for them. Maintaining that belief only to be given a human turned Fae mate and to find out that he was wrong about it all, that she wanted no part of a "handsome faerie lord to wed". 😂 Elain might have fit certain criteria of his stereotype but they weren't the things that mattered considering he ate his words on the rest of it.

Elain was fixed on the notion that the Fae were cruel and were out to hurt them, “We are raised this way. We hear stories of your kind crossing the wall to hurt us. Our own neighbor, Clare Beddor, was taken, her family murdered …”

And while Lucien never hurt her and is actually the least "fae-like" or violent of the fae we've met so far, her initial impression of him was this crazy bond snapping into place, creating this animalistic draw between them. And feeling that pull whenever they're together and hearing any snarls from him would probably be intimidating when she was taught to fear the Fae her whole life.

SJMs endgames couples mostly revolve around the females growth but what I love about Elucien are there are major things they've both already had to change in their thinking since being made mates. They're both having these individual journeys and working their way towards changes in their thought process which I think she'll go over once we get to their book and we'll see a continuation of that in their own POVs.

It seems she wasn't kidding when she mentioned the tension, growth, and healing (together) that they'd have.