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#and he does it without using the word 'please' a single time but the contrast between what he COULD choose to do and what he actually does
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i think i've talked before about how amazingly normal (and respectful) tesilid is towards Ailette for an OI male lead (ie. despite being utterly obsessed with her for aeons, he would never cross a line with her and would ask for consent), but i think we also need to give Reed credit for being pretty normal and respectful too. with regards to Ailette's consent, anyway. for all that he's a homicidal crazy guy trying to destroy the world.
he asks ailette to join him in the abyss and when she says no he's like aw okay, see you next time then <3 he offers ailette a chair and when she says no he doesn't force her. (tesilid doesn't get rights though). ailette goes i already said no i dont want to join you and he's like wait i can change your mind, and when he runs out of time he goes aww okay, i hope you change your mind next time though, ciao <3
like if it were any other OI ailette would be fighting off a confinement arc right now, but reed is just 😭 he just wants to chill with her.
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blue-babygirl · 1 year
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Energy Drink
Pairing: Derek Morgan x college student! Reader
Type: Fluff/Sweet (I think?)
Description: You know you are not supposed to be drinking energy drinks. Derek restricts them for a reason. But it's not like he is around to find out at the moment.
Warnings: stern but loving Derek, somewhat dominant Derek and that's pretty much it. Let me know if I need to add anything.
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You stare at the energy drinks in the vending machine near your lecture hall, contemplating whether to actually get one or not. You can practically feel the single-eyebrow-raised stare that Derek would give you if he were there.
Actually, if he were here, you wouldn't even be standing here contemplating this decision. After all, there is a reason Derek doesn't approve of you drinking energy drinks.
But as you hear your friends entering the hallway, you make up your mind and make quick work of getting your previously favorite flavor from the drinks available, checking to see how much time you have before the professor locks the door as your friends get to you and you make your way to into the hall, taking your seats in the middle.
Before you know it, you have emptied the can, recycled it, got done with work, hyper-fixated on cleaning the kitchen, cleaned the kitchen, and are distractedly working on 3 essays at the same time when Derek gets home. You run over to him before practically throwing yourself in his arms, eternally thankful for how strong he is as you realize that you could have both fallen and gotten hurt.
“Someone’s happy?” Derek looks at you questioningly as you cling to him, making you nod into your hiding spot, his neck.
You can feel him chuckle as he holds you while putting away his things near the entrance. The keys into the bowl, his wallet near the bowl, his shoes near the rack, and his briefcase under the table. You can tell everything he is doing as he does it without even looking up from your hiding spot. It’s probably the energy drink.
“How was your day gorgeous? And why are you up so late? Don’t you have work in the morning?” He questions as he walks into the living room and sees the mess of snacks at the kitchen counter surrounding your laptop in stark contrast to the surprisingly squeaky clean kitchen.
But instead of getting answers like he expected, he looks down to see you staring at him with wide eyes before asking what time it was. That’s when it clicks to him.
He carries you around as he closes your laptop against your protests before carrying your pouty butt to your bedroom.
“I was still working on that essay. You can’t just close my laptop like that!”
Your complaints fall on deaf ears as he finally puts you down on the counter of your ensuite bathroom.
“Those essays, not that essay. And I saved them before closing your laptop sweet cheeks. Now, care to tell me about that energy drink you had?” Derek folds his arms as he gives you the look. You know, the look. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, you are bad at lying when it comes to him. Or honestly, the BAU in general. But in this case, that doesn’t even matter because you don’t think before you answer.
“How did you know?” You look at him with big eyes and a pout as you realize that you just told him that you had one.
“Because, sweetheart,” Derek smiles despite knowing he should be scolding you before nuzzling your nose with his, “I know you.”
You pout but give him a quick peck before he pulls away. “I was tired before a 4-hour lecture with the bitc- witchy professor.” You quickly correct yourself, not wanting to remember the task you had given him as he tried to stop his smirk at your almost mistake.
“You have to help me stop swearing! Please, Derek!!” You pleaded, but he still seemed unsure. “How exactly will I be helping you?” He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow suggestively, making you blush but nod. This took him a little by surprise. “You have to use your words Y/N, you know I won’t agree to anything unless you clarify yourself and what you want.” You blush as you confirmed verbally to what you had both talked about with just your eyes not even minutes ago.
“Anyways, I was exhausted so I thought, why not.” You shrug.
“You know why not.” Derek gives you that look. “You get way too hyper for way too long sweeetie. You usually can’t even keep track of time, like today. I got home at around 3:25 a.m. Y/N. You have to wake up at 7 for work and now you are gonna have a migraine. Did you even eat dinner? Or lunch? Anything other than those snacks?”
You are honestly surprised about how late it is, you didn’t even feel the time passing. You try to remember if you ate anything for lunch or dinner but you don’t even remember getting or eating the snacks Derek mentioned. You cringe at the thought of the migraine you are going to have along with the fact that you definitely disappointed Derek and that you are not even sleepy.
Derek sighs after staring at you thinking for a few minutes, making you realize he is still there. At this point, you at least have the courtesy to look ashamed.
“Here is what we are going to do now. You are going to get out of these clothes and get in the shower while I get a few things done. Okay baby?” You nod quickly before making grabby hands at him. He obliges and comes closer for you to give him a hug. He gives you one last kiss on your forehead before leaving you in the bathroom.
“Wet your hair too!” You hear Derek yell from somewhere in the house as you make your way into the shower after undressing and getting it set up.
Not long after you get your hair wet thoroughly, Derek comes into the bathroom and joins you in the shower. After giving you a head massage as he washed your hair and helped you clean up with you returning the favor, you step out of the shower together. You let him cover you in his towel while he uses yours.
After getting changed into some pajamas and having him partially dry your hair with a towel, you get in bed together, finally tired and ready to fall asleep.
“I emailed your manager that you won’t be able to get to work until noon tomorrow.” Derek mumbles tiredly as he pulls you flush to him and snuggles you close.
You turn around in his arms before pecking his lips softly and mumbling out a thank you before you snuggle yourself as close to him as you can. You feel him kiss your forehead making you smile softly.
The last thing he hears before your breathing evens out is a sleepily mumbled, “No more energy drinks.”
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melpherno · 6 months
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Under the Maple Tree
Archmage ! Clarence x reader
Tags: fluff, cuddling; a lot of cuddling, post-Godheim, post-Epilogue.
Word count: 2.1 k !
Ao3 link [🍁]
A/N: this does not end in angst; in fact, it doesn't even have a molecule of angst, trust me. I'm doing the impossible for us delulu Archmage simps because, at this point, "Archmage" and "Angst" have become one lol. Enjoy~
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The land of Godheim welcomed autumn again.
This time, instead of walking alone through the maple grooves on the outskirts of Maple Ridge, the little painter was blessed with the company of the Archmage. Hand in hand, they continued towards their unpredicted destination. Usually, Clarence would prefer to make a thoroughly thought-out itinerary before embarking on such a long journey, however, ever since the little painter joined his side – he had allowed her to take him wherever she pleased; a gift to her, after waiting for him for, perhaps, almost an aeon; a pledge to her that he'd always follow her footsteps, and never depart from her ever again.
Throughout the journey, Clarence seemed to be submerged in his never-ending thoughts; forever worrying about his little painter. He still wondered why the little painter had chosen him; out of all of the people she might’ve met travelling across space and time – why him? What did he ever do in his outstretched life that made her love him so ardently, so genuinely, without holding a single grudge against him for all he had done?
The little painter, on the other hand, simply enjoyed the autumn scenery of Godheim. She had rarely seen such beauty in this land, let alone that one time when the Archmage made her witness the variety of seasons here; besides that, this felt special; now that she was truly here – walking through the maple forest, admiring the trees with bright red leaves embellishing them all, and taking in the crunching sound that followed with every step she took that brought an indescribable satisfaction to her ears. The soft afternoon sunlight illuminated the path before them, glinting through the leaves, as they endeavoured forth.
Soon after, the little painter perked up after having caught a glimpse of a river's bank – this could be a perfect time to sit down after trekking nonstop for about three hours. She even wondered how Clarence could even walk without breaking a sweat for this long; he didn't go on walks in the spatiotemporal gap now, did he? The little painter finally turned to look at Clarence, who seemed solemn; a neutral yet detached look on his face, as if he was pondering something.
The little painter finally called out, “Hey, Clarence, I see a river up ahead. Care to take a break?”
Clarence was startled out of his reveries, his eyes widened slightly as his steps came to an abrupt halt upon hearing his saviour's voice, however, his surprise didn't last long as he turned to face her with that same neutral expression once again. “Didn't we just take a break?”
“That was three hours ago!” The little painter argued, her loud voice echoing through the woods, wavering amidst the mildly blowing wind of late autumn. Despite all the time they had passed being separated, the little painter didn't seem to change at all; she still had that fierce spirit and enthusiasm that graced her personality – a stark contrast to the Archmage's usual collected self, almost resembling a stoic sentinel.
Clarence sighed, shaking his head slightly before responding with a strained smile, “Sure. Don't take too long. We need to reach the village before evening.”
Without wasting a moment, the little painter jogged towards the river bank, taking a moment to appreciate the view. It was serene, rather idyllic even, with the gentle blow of wind that made the branches of the maple trees sway, making a few leaves flutter midair as they fell onto the slightly murky water of the river. The little painter felt slightly disappointed, now that she couldn't keep a painting of this scenery without her painting supplies around. However, with the thought of conjuring up painting supplies with magic, she turned to ask for her lover's assistance, only to find him near one of the maple trees – entertaining himself with a flock of birds as they flew down to sit on his shoulders, and one brown bird even rested upon his palm.
These were only a few birds; the little painter recalled the last time they took a stoppage at a quaint village in the northwest. After having a short snack moment upon the little painter’s insistence, Clarence decided to feed the critters some leftover pieces of bread – only to find out that, after a few moments, he was surrounded by the cattle and critters of the entire village. The Archmage, despite his imposing and stoic nature, was favoured by all sorts of animals.
A rather adorable trait, the little painter mused.
She slowly approached the Archmage, trying to eavesdrop on whatever he was mumbling to the little birds. Upon reaching him, she could only make out some of his hushed whispers: “I feel … calm.”
Clarence smiled softly as a bird pecked at his fingers, completely unaware of all the perilous magic his hands could create. He continued in the same gentle tone, “Whenever I'm with her, I feel content; as if I couldn't be happier.” The little painter then noticed his expression become somewhat solemn, his smile dropping ever so slightly. “Though, I'm unsure whether I could ever make myself happy. But, I'm certain, she can.”
The little painter could feel a smile inevitably creeping up her face as she went a few steps closer to the Archmage. “What are you talking about?”
Hearing her voice once again, Clarence visibly flinched, disturbing the birds as they flew away in fear. He turned around, avoided the girl's teasing little stare and replied in a curt tone, “Nothing.”
“Oh, is that so?” The little painter said with a snicker. “I thought I heard you saying something… about me?”
“Well–” Clarence was about to retort, but he stopped to find proper excuses. “...”
The little painter continued to smile even more, now that she had defeated Clarence in this little banter of theirs. She then looked around, trying to find a place to sit down and enjoy the scenery around them. After a few moments, she asked, “Do you want to sit down over there for a moment?”
“I do not wish to be rude, but,” Clarence responded, after regaining his usual indifferent composure, in a flat tone, “that'll only be a waste of time. We need to reach the village before the sun sets.”
“Oh, come on, Clarence. Just five minutes?” The little painter tried her best to persuade the Archmage, even so, she tried to tug at his sleeves – seemed like she still had that childlike innocence she had since the day they departed; thinking about it made the Archmage hesitate with his words slightly.
He thought for words to dissuade the painter with, but, failed miserably as his fondness for her and affinity towards nature beckoned him to give in to the earthly pleasures for once. “Very well.”
The little painter then grabbed his hand, and almost dragged him towards the spot she had chosen and sat down on the grass under one of the maple trees. The Archmage, without finding any other words to object with, made himself sit down beside her. Clarence looked around to notice the view, and as expected, the little painter had chosen the most beautiful perspectives – he should've expected this from an artist like her, who had to find beauty in the rarest places. He noticed how peaceful the forestries on the other side of the river looked, how the sunlight reflected on the streams of water, and how, out of all places – where he felt the most calm at was the places the little painter chose herself.
“You know, Clarence,” the little painter started, shifting closer to the Archmage, her shoulder brushing against his arm, “this moment reminds me of something…”
“Of what, may I ask?” His voice remained soft as he asked, almost like a whisper, only for the little painter to hear.
“Of that dream, you once showed me.” She looked up to face him, noticing how the afternoon light glinted on the monocle resting on his right eye. “An opportunity to experience the different seasons of Godheim.”
He hummed, approving the little painter's comment. “And how do you feel now?”
“Better than ever,” she said, trailing her fingers down his arm to grasp at his hand – oh, what a tease; that simple action made the Archmage look away, a futile attempt to hide the evident blush growing on his face. Thereafter, sensing the Archmage's shyness, the little painter wrapped her other arm around his body to pull him closer; and to that, the little painter felt the man stiffen more than ever. This was, perhaps, for the Archmage, the first time to ever experience her warm embrace. He did hold her within his arms once; in the spatiotemporal gap, before they were destined to depart – but, this time, it felt unique; the embrace now bore a feeling that was unknown to the Archmage – something that he never had experienced before in his long riverbed of life. He welcomed this exceptional feeling that harboured no sense of resentment or melancholy within it. However, he still didn't give into the sensation just yet, and the little painter frowned upon noticing his hesitance.
“Clarence,” the little painter said, “it's all right. You can relax.”
Well, certainly, the Archmage couldn't make himself relax to this newly found feeling, nevertheless, he attempted to lean against the bark of the tree, his hands shivering in the late autumn breeze as he wrapped his arms around the little painter to bring her closer even more. The little painter happily leaned her head against her lover's shoulder, letting out a pleased hum when she closed her eyes. She felt happy; no conflict, no tears falling, no bloodshed – simply the gentle monotony of a peaceful life to accompany the two lovers forward. Perhaps this was the life the little painter traversed through worlds for; and perhaps, to enjoy the simplicity of this moment, the Archmage had to sacrifice himself for. But, they were both content, that at least their sacrifices were not in vain – that fate had finally blessed them with happiness.
Under the maple tree, Clarence held his lover in his arms again, looking down at her resting figure with a gentle smile on his face. He raised a hand and brought it towards the little painter's face, and gently pinched her cheek. The little painter shot open her eyes; of all the possible outcomes from this scenario, she hadn't expected Clarence to pull such a playful and rather childish act on her.
“Clarence,” she said, followed by a soft laugh. “Why'd you do that?”
“There was something on your face,” Clarence replied.
The little painter knew that was a lie. She only smiled, deciding to give him a payback; with a swift move, she grabbed his monocle and brought it to her face, to examine it. However, due to the chain being attached behind Clarence's ear, it only brought him closer to the little painter.
Now, face to face, being mere inches apart from the little painter’s lips, Clarence blushed furiously. The little painter on the other hand, was slightly startled by the result of her mischievous misconduct, but she didn't mind it much – after all, her intentions were to make the Archmage flustered. When Clarence was about to apologise and pull away, uttering some sort of excuse, he was cut off by the little painter pulling him closer; being surprised once again as he felt the little painter's lips being upon his. And then, it felt like the flow of time had stopped, the only thing that ever mattered to him at that moment was her; his beloved saviour – a blessing from the stars. Clarence was no less stiff than a stone then, refusing to move his lips to the rhythm of the little painter’s as she continued to press her lips against the Archmage's chapped ones. The little painter, upon noticing Clarence’s unease, decided to save this man from his misery.
After they broke the kiss, the little painter took the moment to inspect Clarence's reaction: his eyes avoiding hers, cheeks covered with a faint red tint, and breathing heavily – also, she couldn't help noticing how sweet and more humble he seemed compared to his usual stoic self. He smiled faintly once more, sighing before he hid his face within the crook of the little painter's neck, softly nuzzling against her. The little painter, giggling to herself, ran a hand through Clarence's long hair, while the other hand softly rubbed his back – rubbing circles and tracing little hearts upon the fabric of his coat. She then said in a teasing tone, “Clarence, aren't five minutes over yet?”
The little painter felt the Archmage shift a little, letting out an exasperated sigh; seemed like the little painter's plan worked, Clarence was successfully persuaded.
“I hope you wouldn't mind if we were to spend five more minutes like this?” He mumbled against her fabric of clothes.
“Sure,” she responded with a smile. “Perhaps five more minutes won't hurt.”
Therefore, the two lovers remained under the shade of the maple tree, experiencing the warmth of each other’s embraces for what felt like an eternity.
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lamemaster · 1 year
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A Conspiring Universe (Curufin x Reader)
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Pairing: Curufin x Reader
Genre: Lovers to enemies (hehe)
Summary: Such was the unfortunate tale of your meeting with Curufin. A fate orchestrated by the entire universe.
AN: Idk Curufin just came and demanded this so here it is. Another story for the underrated character event. @doodle-pops
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"Your father destroyed lives, he does not get my respect," your words reverberate through the serene room, a stark contrast to the tranquility that hangs in the air. The faint scent of ripe oranges and sugar from your marmalade fills the space, a bittersweet reminder of domesticity amidst the impending storm.
In the golden light of the Sun, you see him for the first time. The last time you laid eyes on him, the Sun and the Moon had yet to grace the world. "You never even gave us... my family a chance. Always on your high horse. Always preaching whatever your parents told you about," Curufin remains unchanged. Despite the passage of time, the regrowth of his fana has not tamed his fervor, nor dimmed the fire that has long defined him.
This is how you greet your husband after eons of separation. Your veins pulse with adrenaline, your heart pounds like a drumbeat of fury. "You and your wretched family took away everything from me," your accusatory finger jabs the air, finding its mark on Curufin's conscience.
"You took away my son, his happiness; you trampled upon his heart," your steps carry you closer to him, until your breaths mingle, noses almost touching. "And in doing so, you took my everything," you refuse to let your tears fall. Not today. Not in front of him. He does not deserve them. Not after the last time you had begged him with the same tears. You had pleaded for your son.
"I wish I hadn't met you," the words slip out, unhindered by any interruption. So you continue, your voice like a river finally allowed to flow freely. "I wish you had perished at Alqualondë, or I wish you had ended my life before you departed Tirion," a tremor runs through you, but you steel yourself against it. After all these years, after carrying the weight of a bond you never asked for, it all crumbles like a dam breached under pressure. "I wish... I... I had died."
"Please," his voice is a whisper, a fragile sound that blends into the walls around you, almost lost in the echoes.
"Every single day of your exile, I yearned for death. To depart this world. To journey beyond even Miriel's reach, and to leave you. To abandon you as you abandoned me," your voice wavers, your knees threaten to give way, and the tears stream down. At that moment, the arms that wrap around you. 
You do not allow him to embrace you completely. You shrug off his arms even as the world blurs. “Curufinwe I hate you,” your voice is a whisper but you know he hears it. “I hate you so much.” Tears not belonging to you, stings the skin of your hands. Tremors foreign to your body rock your shoulders.
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Curufinwe, like his father, fell in love with the most unexpected person. None in Aman had expected such to occur, yet, it had. Just like none had expected Feanor to marry unremarkable Nerdanel. They hadn’t expected for his son, his shadow, Curufin to wed the daughter of a priest.
But love comes where it is destined. And it stays there like an unwelcome tenant. It came for Curfin and you. 
Your upbringing immersed you in tales of the Valar and their valor, bound by reverence and tradition. Curufin, however, was raised in a household that reveled in defiance, a family that dared to question the authority of those who claimed dominion over Arda. Neither Feanor nor your parents had assented easily. But that too had come to pass.
Or else what could have been the chances of Curufin getting a sudden impulse to stroll, a mere few hours after he had delved into his father's smithy, a place he could stay in for days without respite. Why did he choose that exact moment for a break? And why did his steps lead him to the temple, a place his family had shunned? How was it that you, who usually worked out in the gardens of the temple was the one singing the hymn that morning? What had led you to sing like that, that particular day?
It was as if the entire universe had conspired to blend your path to him. On a pleasant sunny day, when the flowers bloomed bearing all the colors of the rainbow, and the air thrummed with the subtle fragrance of incense, you met Curufin. 
It had happened in a fraction of a second. Your eyes met his and it was undeniable. In a hall full of people your singing faltered at his sight. Notes forgotten and worship discarded. Curufin on the other hand did not pause. He moved towards you uncaring of the eyes on him. 
Such was the unfortunate tale of your meeting with Curufin. A fate orchestrated by the entire universe.
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favorvn · 2 years
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(I'm sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language) (*/ω\) Hi, yesterday I found out about Favor and fell in love with your game. First of all, for her artistic style - it's damn beautiful, Z is both frightening, but at the same time admires and attracts (both his hair and horns ~ and I want to touch them). The fact that I can't see his eyes, but I've seen hints of what they look like (I've managed to read your entire Tumblr several times) makes my imagination work like never before! Secondly, for references to real religion. I am practically not interested in this, and my knowledge is extremely superficial, but if I understood and remembered everything correctly, then the fact that you did not invent (to some extent) any fictional religion in the universe of the game (I have absolutely nothing against this), but turned to an existing religion, causes me to repeat the admiration. I have so many questions about the game, but in order not to drag out an already long message, I will ask only some of them (I hope you don't mind). 1) Will you see angels in this game? 2) You mentioned that if Z does not find the means to immortality for Y/N, then he will simply seduce him (her) so that he goes to hell, to him. What would Y/N's "life" in hell be like? (if it's not spoilers) 3) Referring to your mentions described above, it became interesting to me. Let's say Z has found a means to immortality, but Y/N is against it? What if he (she) wants to live an ordinary human life and, when the time comes, die? Will he try to convince you/N to become immortal, or will he do everything without his (her) consent? 4) Given how old Z is, how many human languages does he know? I apologize if my questions turned out to be stupid or strange. And I apologize if my words may have seemed rude, I assure you, not a single word of mine had a non-native meaning. Many thanks for the amazing game from one of the first (I believe) fans in the CIS. I am looking forward to the release of the continuation of the story! (I speak without pressure and attempts to hurry up somehow). Please take good care of your physical and mental health! (⌒▽⌒)☆
(Oh, and also taking this opportunity, I congratulate you and Z on Valentine's Day! (*^.^*))
Thank you SO much for the detailed and thoughtful message, I'm sure this took forever to write, but I am so touched 🥰!
I will say about religion: In the game, I mainly use ideas from Christianity/ Catholicism/Judaism/Islam ect as a base, I try to take common aspects and common and contrasting ideas that cross amongst monotheistic religions. A lot of the topics in this game surrounding religion or religious ideas and values are thoughts I tend to wonder about often. Religion is a contentious topic, so I do want to say that whatever the game is saying or asking doesn't mean it's right or accurate to everyone, it is just my personal creation at the end of the day.
And when we get to that point in the game, I am definitely interested in hearing what others have to say.
But onto your questions:
1. Yes
2. I would imagine Z would take care of MC and show them the ropes. Z would make sure MC didn't get recruited into any demon armies so they could stick around him all of the time and not have to be around other demons. - I don't plan to get to this point in the game, so it's kinda up to interpretation.
3. Z would do everything in their power to win over MC either immortality or to hell with him. If MC ends up in Heaven, Z would essentially be separated from MC and Z isn't willing to risk that outcome.
4. Z knows a few human languages, but mainly old ones (as he only really interacted with humans long ago). He just recently picked up English (from his 20 movies, some video games, and fellow demons). Z is a fast learner, thankfully because he has a lot to learn about the human world.
Your questions aren't stupid! Thank you SO much for taking the time to read everything and then ask them 🥰💕 It really made me happy! I'm happy to have a fan in the CIS (I actually have plans for a slavic character in the future!) Thank you again for your time and care into these questions!
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Vows (Part 1) (InkyPages)
Part Two:
A/N: I have been big sad, lately :' )
Anyways, Does, anyone have suggestions, or ideas for Lovesick Tang? I've made Macaque the obsessed one too many times.
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TW: Toxic and Abusive Relationship, Obsessive Mindset, Assault, Implied Low Self-esteem, Insecurities and Toxic Mindset.
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"Leave me?" The dark-furred demon, spoke out in disbelief, The words left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He, tried to calm himself down, but his mind flickered to logic, to insane assumptions.
The scholar, coughed and gripped tightly on his shoulder bag, that contained essential necessities that could last him for days. "I'm not, leaving you, I just need some time for myself" He forced the words out his throat, which resulted with him stumbling with his words
"Please? I jus-" A plate was thrown at him and simply missed him the man, by an inch.
It made a defeaning sound when the porcelain object, came directly in contact with the floor. The white shards scattered across the dining room, with a single piece flying towards the brown-haired man's direction and, cut through the fabric of the bottom end, of the robes.
That was the fourth plate, this week
"Bold of you, to make that decision"
The anthropomorphic monkey's voice, was dripping with venom, no longer the sweet and gentle tone that Tang, used to enjoy listening too.
"I...What the-" Tang's was speechless, with how badly his black-furred partner reacted, to his simple request about wanting space. He, wasn't timid in nature, so it didn't make make him tremble, but rather was infuriated by their refusual to talk there relationship over.
He, always described his lover as someone that was calm and collective, that contrasted nicely to his, overly excited and curious nature, but for this past few months, It had been different.
Often times, Tang found himself wanting to cut ties with the feral demon, because he couldn't even visit his favorite noodle shop, without being bombarded about questions, regarding his platonic relationship with Pigsy, or if He'd come across with Sun Wukong.
The question, was always met with eye roll and grumbling, that nothing was happening between the two.
It seems, Macaque was insecure and scared, to lose him to another creature.
Shifting his circular glasses, The man sighed, and considered himself to be lucky enough, to keep a straight face and a partially calm demeanor, but that was because of his refusual and mostly self-restraint, to keep his argument from escalating any further.
Even when, the man, in his mid fourties felt he was too old to deal with this shit.
"You really didn't think this through" Their, eyes, illuminated a faint violet hue, as he snickered, chuckling bitterly but fortunately, his taunting laugh fell deaf to the brunette's ear and thought of this situation as something childish and not at all, serious.
"You, can't just walk out and leave me!"
Although, Tang kept a mature facade in the tense situation. It was his partner, that reacted terribly to this. His malignant eyes, reflected the serious expression of his lover, or ex-lover, at this point.
Those eyes, that was calm and still, like a peaceful night was now a surge of tsunami that would drown anyone that dared to look at straight in the eye
That's why Tang took a moment to avoid eye contact, not wanting to get lost in his sea of emotions as he considered himself to be a peaceful person, that was never the type to argue with anyone or cause drama and preferred to settle everything with a reasonable and civilized talk but...
Never thought, this is how his long term relationship, would end.
"My decesion is final!" Tang finally had to step his foot down and could no longer tolerate this unstable behaviou
It was starting to get on his nerves.
"I'll not come back until this odd behaviour of yours stopped!"
The scholar rather not fuel the fight, and call them insane, nor start any crazy conclusion, He didn't dare to tolerate this type of behavior.
After this, He knew that his partner needed therapy or perhaps both of them needed it.
"Now, If you'll excuse me..." The hazel eyed man, took a shaky breath and chewed on his bottom lip before slowly walking away to the front door.
The hallway seemed seem tight and the walls seemed to close, made him feel claustrophobic. Just mocking him that there, was a possibility that he'll forever be confined in this space, he uses to call home with little to no chance of ever leaving.
"I'll be on my way"
The wooden floorboard creaked with every heavy step that Tang took, The hallway seemed to elongate, never reaching an end.
"I-I, already lost too many people"
The shadows, started creeping from the corner, with the furniture being consumed by inky void.
"Lose? I'm not leaving forever. I just need some space, that's all. "
The small house, that once comforted the brunette, a place that be considered, to be peaceful.
Soon, turned into a hellhole.
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just-bible-musings · 1 year
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Copyrights and Translations on the Word of God
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So can someone please explain to me why God's Word is copyrighted?
Literally, the only reason copyright laws exist is so that the person or company who owns the copyright can sue the pants off anyone and everyone who quotes or uses their work without their permission (and, very often, paying the copyright owner for the privilege, as well).
Except for one thing: Zondervan and Thomas Nelson and whoever else did NOT write the Bible, God did! That's why we call it "The Word of God." All any of these publishing companies ever did was print a translation, that's all.
But because of these copyrights, these companies could legally sue anyone who uses a verse without crediting at least which version that verse came from. Usually, this isn't a problem- except for the KJV, a lot of those translations have such similar language that people pretty much have to tell you which version it came from. But the law, and the threat that goes with it, still exists.
Yes! That's right! You can get in trouble for quoting the Bible!
That really makes sense, doesn't it? God's Word, spoken freely and lovingly for the benefit of all mankind- and yet you can get your butt fined or thrown in jail for quoting it without citing the reference.
And yes, I've done my research and found that the KJV, which I use exclusively, is also copyrighted by the British Crown. So my argument extends even to the KJV. (However, it is worth noting that, as the law currently stands, you don't need official permission to quote the KJV, you just have to say that you're quoting the KJV.)
And I read the argument in favorite of copyrighting the Bible. "But these translators put in so much work when they did the translating, so they deserve the credit." Bah! What about all the scribes and rabbis who faithfully copied the words of the Old Testament time and time again, down through history until Jesus came? How many of their names can you tell me? And as far as credit goes, there are numerous Psalms whose authors are still unknown. We still don't know who wrote Hebrews, whether it was Paul or Peter or someone else. And while James and Jude are generally believed to have been written by Jesus' earthly half-brothers, no one has ever conclusively proven it.
I don't care who put in the work to translate the Bible, or how much work they put in. The words are ultimately God's, HE is the only One who deserves the credit! Because, if a translation is truly faithful to the words provided by God Himself, then He is clearly also the One who moved the person who did the translation, as well.
People, please look at this logically:
Do you believe that the Bible is the coherent Word of God, divinely inspired to provide one single, cohesive, Gospel message to all men and women throughout all of history, in every corner of the world, despite having been written down by at least 40 different human beings over the course of as much as 4000 years?
Do you also believe that God is capable of communicating to us through His Holy Spirit, and that it is only through His Holy Spirit that we are able to get the wisdom that we need in order to understand His Word as He meant it?
If your answer to both of these is "yes," then why do you not believe that the same God who was capable of preserving and providing us with His full and complete Word, was also capable of providing us with ONE perfect translation of His Word? Why does every Christian I know of sit there surrounded by multiple translations and try to tell me that I am not properly studying the Bible if I don't compare and contrast the various translations made by various people, and of any and all the mistakes that those people may have incorporated into their translations? Why are so many Christians incapable of relying on the Holy Spirit to interpret God's Word, and instead rely on the mistakes and mistranslations of numerous people?
Look. At this point, I'm not trying to tell you which version to use. I'm just saying, if you truly believe that you hold God's Word in your hand, and you truly rely on His Spirit to give you divine wisdom to understand His Word, then why can you not just pick one version, say "this is the divinely and perfectly inspired Word of God" and die on that hill? Do you even realize how many cracks you are putting in your own testimony by your lack of faith in both God's Word and His Holy Spirit, who lives inside you??? Do you ever even think of just how much it grieves God that you put more faith in the mistakes of men than in the perfection of His Spirit???
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taeilskitty · 3 years
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Hey there! I saw that you open for a request so here's what I thought : what kind of sound did nct make when having sex? Are they more into whimpers, groans, or maybe dirty talk? Thank you so much for answering my question and hope you have a good day!
i was BORN to answer this omg. lemme tell you, i have thought about this so SO much!! (i'm leaving chenji out of this bc i don't know how people feel about that yet)
anyways, i hope u enjoy and i hope this matches what you had in mind <3
taeil
oh fuck. taeil is most certainly a groaner. i think (and trust me, i've thought a lot) he must make these gorgeous low moans like right in the back of his throat if that makes sense - have you ever heard his bubble voice messages? oh my god, they're so fucking hot. his raspy voice in the middle of the night is just to die for. that makes me CONVINCED that he dirty talks super up close. even thinking about it makes me shiver :(( he's the king of praise, i just know it. i think he degrades too, but his favourite is when he mixes both together - "you look so pathetic there baby, how cute." "daddy loves his pretty slut so much." "god you're so fucking good for me, my cockslut~" taeil also asks things, i think that suits him so much. "yeah? you like that?" "is daddy's cock too big baby? shh, i'll be done soon..."
taeyong
whiner. whiner. undoubtedly. this boy has the sweetest, prettiest little moans... he gets all high pitched when he's close and oh god when he sinks into subspace he just mewls and his voice gets so weak </3 little "yes" and "a-ah thank you"s slip out because he such a good kitten. he's so precious... and if he gets asked to speak while he's getting fucked he just squeaks out an answer. "m.. love it... ah..." n he will never fail to say his please and thank yous - he's so well mannered even when hes getting used !!!
johnny
this is just. oh my. i think he's silent for the most part. heavy breathing and quiet grunts and groans until he's close. THAT'S when he starts moaning, all sorts of things slipping out. "god you're so good" "i love this hole so much" ahh??! i think he talks down too. fuck !!! daddy!johnny is so patronising, and not just outside of the bedroom. kinda like taeil, he asks things, but he makes u feel so dumb and cock drunk :( AH AND he like... coos when you feel all dazed from his cock... "awh~ is that good? you like that don't you sweetheart? yeah, i know."
yuta
i have this vision of yuta just SLAMMING from behind with his face right up in your ear, telling you all sorts of dirty things lowly with just the hottest voice ever. he's very vocal about what he wants, and he loves cumming inside... so expect him to talk about that. oh, he is so fucking possessive too. "hmm. mine. this is mine. you're mine." he probably bites your ear/neck when he says it... the grunts that come out when he slams are enough to send anyone reeling, but i bet he tells you "fuck. gonna. gonna cum in my fuckdoll--" n his voice just trails off as he fills you up and sighs<33
kun
now kun is !! an interesting one !! ... i envision him as a pretty hard dom, so i don't think he's any stranger to degrading. that being said, i think he's more talkative when he's giving punishments (e.g. spanking over his thigh... heaven<33) rather than when he's fucking. i think he moans lowly, semi-quietly but as he gets more and more pent up he gets louder. (i think this is the case for most of the nct doms but oh well) he'll praise how good you make him feel - assuming you've been behaved enough - but that doesn't stop him from cursing under his breath at every chance he gets ,,..
doyoung
definitely has pretty moans !! he probably does whine, but i mean that in a dom way - if that makes sense? higher pitched moans but not pathetic, in fact it's probably paired with him whispering "fuck yes, good [insert ur fave petname here]". i think he's the type to kiss you a lot during sex and like... moan into your mouth; any space not taken up by the sound of moans will for sure be filled with the sound of his panting and his tongue dancing with yours.
ten
another semi-whiner. i always saw him as a dom but i'm sliiightly succumbing to the idea that he may be a switch... which is why i think there's so much BEAUTY in his moans?? ten makes really pretty, breathy whines and moans i'm sure, i don't particularly think he talks a crazy amount but rather short instructions. (yes i'm going back to dom!ten) "turn around." "get on your knees" "quiet." AH !! he always lets you know what he needs - however, sub!ten will just whine and squirm till you make him cum because he is most definitely a slut who takes anything:(
jaehyun
first of all, this man wrecks me to the fucking core, and i could talk about this for... a while. but his moans are definitely like, raspy high-pitched type. think about his vocals. esp in try again... i bet you they sound like THAT. i'm sure he talks a bit too, tbh he probably says rather textbook dirty things but it sounds so fucking hot when it's him. "yeah take it, take my cock" "fuck yes just like that", he loves how you whine when he moans right up next to you btw - it just makes him do it even more. oh, and bonus - he will never call you ANYTHING without prefixing it with my or daddy's. daddy's girl, daddy's boy, daddy's pet, my dirty slut... ahh<3
winwin
it's almost contrasting to jaehyun but sicheng's voice is so low. i can't explain this in any way other than that he's kitty, but his moans are so... puppy? and when he's fucked, he makes himself sound so dumb too. he's constantly slurring his words and biting his lip because he's trying to keep quiet but anyone who walks by the room will hear "mm.. m!!" because he just can't help himself :( when he's close he probably squeaks like taeyong and cums all over the place GOD i want him
jungwoo
oh god there's no doubt that jungwoo talks SO much during sex. he probably loses his fucking mind with how good he feels. he's such a good boy but sometimes you just need him to shut up - but he can't. he squeaks out a little moan when you push into him, or when you start touching his cock, but withn minutes he's babbling non-stop; "oh god oh god mommy/daddy i love it so much, a-ah like that, please~"
lucas
my brain used to be convinced that xuxi was a dom, but i'm now sure he's a switch. either way, his moans are pretty much the same. they're very heavy and... i guess manly is the best way to put it. in my head i can literally picture him being like "ughhh..." when you start fucking because he just feels like he's wanted to fuck you so desperately - yes, even if you fucked hours before. it's always so breathy and moany and i think he sounds like a bit of a fuckboy tbh... "fuck yeah" as he slides his cock into you? THANKS
mark
loud baby loud baby LOUD BABY:((( no matter how much you cover that pretty mouth of his he will be so LOUD!! he can't stop talking and whining and panting, kinda like jungwoo but honestly... more. he swears a lot too. he tries not to but he just can't help himself :( "aw shit... god shit!!!" under his breath UGHHFDGGDFDD SO FUCKING CUTE IM GONNA SCREAM !!! he's very polite though, so he always says sorry every single time :( he babbles like hell when he cums, he can't stop himself, again like jungwoo. "i'm gonna cum i'mgonnacumi- i'm -- ah fuck, shit--!!"
xiaojun
two words. action figure. everyone knew that was coming, HA - i'm sorry but THAT verse means we all know how he sounds. i think he tries his best to talk normally while you edge him but his little voice keeps on wavering and cracking and just... he can't help but sound all pretty and pathetic :( but surely dejun has some (very frequent) moments where he can't keep his front anymore and just whines like a whore because it feels so good<3
hendery
the things i'd let this man do to me:))) i think at first he'd actually try and hide his moans because he feels like that's what he's supposed to do, but no. for me personally, i know i would NOT LET THAT HAPPEN !! he probably sucks the air in through his teeth in an attempt to hide it - it's very fucking sexy when he does that, granted - but he can't keep doing that for long. i think he hums and laughs when he can't keep it in any longer because he almost feels some kinda defeat but then he just moans semi-loudly and lets out a "good girl/boy/baby... let me fuck you, huh?"
renjun
renjun scares the fuck out of me. why? because his moans are fairly quiet. he's master and it S H O W S. he grunts quietly, maybe muttering things under his breath like "so fucking tight" "mmh there you go..." to fill some silence but he does it subconsciously; he goes so far into domspace sometimes that he just can't control himself. when he's close he talks through his teeth and he's like "i'm. i'm gonna cum baby..."and the more you whine on his cock the more he just laughs at you because he's a sadist hhhhhhhhhhh.........
jeno
most definitely a fun one... you see when he's sub, he pants and whines and drools all over himself like a big dumb puppy boy and he just breathes so heavy n his moans are all shaky... if he's a brat he will try and talk big but he can't take it, he just gets so pathetic and !!! but dom jeno is fucking TERRIFYING because he talks down and tries his best to intimidate you. he chuckles and degrades you, but one of his faves is when he can big himself up under his breath. "look at you now. you love this fucking cock."
haechan
this isn't good for my mental health :) i fucking cannot TAKE this brat :) AHA! hyuckie is honestly such a whore, he's bratty and rude and always talks back at you like he's the king of the fucking world. he's constantly laughing at you and trying so hard to make you feel like you're not worthy but he feels so good he just gets fucked dumb by you :( he is SO loud too. he wants everyone to hear what a dirty whore he is and he makes sure he puts on his prettiest pornstar moans. he whines like his life depends on it. on the off chance that he's being a good boy, he begs and cries and whimpers when he finally cums - and i mean CRIES. sobs. he'll be heaving by the time you're done with him, but god he fucking loves it.
jaemin
fuck... fuck okay... well firstly he loves to talk. we all know how much he praises and how he's constantly showing his love off... that doesn't stop at fanservice, nope. he will fuck you like a ragdoll and keep calm and composed as ever, talking down to you as if you're in his lap for a soft cuddle. "baby loves nana so much hm~?" "oh you really love that don't you?" "you know you're so pretty. nana wants to cum in you so bad~" yes, he calls himself nana because he's a cocky fuck and loves how it sounds. especially when you're moaning it for him.
yangyang
i'm kinda in 2 minds about this... on the one hand, he's kinda like hyuckie in that he whines a LOT. but he can actually keep his composure - he's a breathy whiner, he's not quite as loud and he most certainy doesn't crumble as easily. (that's not to say that he can't, he most definitely can.) on the other hand i think when he's in a more neutral headspace rather than subby, he talks to you like a total fuckboy. not in a mean way but he's just like "hah. i know you love me fucking you like this." he gets so cocky and he sucks hickeys into your neck and hums quietly<3
shotaro
he's such a shy baby :( he wants to moan so much but he probably gets all self conscious and tries to hide it... so you gotta make him feel safe :( when he does he whimpers and it's so pretty and pathetic. the way he wells up with tears and hitches his breath is. adorable. he whispers "thank you... ah..." every time he feels that good and by the time he cums it's just falling from him like a waterfall :( the more comfortable he feels, though, the sluttier he can get... he will always be a good boy but i think he lets his whore side come out every once in a while <3
sungchan
last but most certainly not least, yet ANOTHER boy who pains me to the core. i think sungchan whimpers too. THERE I SAID IT. his cock is too big for his own good so he just... needs you to do SOMETHING to him :( he always sighs at first, maybe hissing just a little but then he gets to a point where he's quietly whimpering because he just needs to cum so fucking bad <//3 "need it... p-please..." he's always nervous to use titles but if he wants to cum he has no choice :( when his dom asks please who? he blushes bright red n mumbles a little "please mommy/daddy... 'm so good..." and god yes he is he deserves it so much ugh<33333333333333
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footballffbarbiex · 2 years
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Id love to see Trent begging. Like she’s straddling him but she’s constantly teasing him, never sliding herself all the way down whilst Trent’s going actually insane whenever she just lets the tip in for a bit and then slides out again. So he’s just a constant begging mess pleading her to do something, anything, he just needs to be inside her asap
"Please."
One single word with oh so much emotion dripping throughout it. The look Trent gives you as he breathes deeply through his nose is one that will be etched into your mind for as long as you live.
Lust and frustrations clouds everything. His dark eyes now appear unnaturally so in a contrast to his paling lips as he bites down, teeth applying so much pressure the area beneath appears almost white.
"Stop it," your hand connects with his thigh, the sound worse than the feeling and it snaps him out of it. "Good boy," you whisper, hand splaying over his chest as you lower yourself back down onto him. You feel the thickness of his head parting your folds, pushing inside of you just enough to begin to stretch you open with the first two inches when you pause, making him groan again.
"Problem?"
"No," he shakes his head, answering too quickly.
"I thought you wanted this? Didn't you beg not to use a condom? Didn't you ask to feel me without?"
"Yes." You reward his honesty by taking another inch and his eyelids flutter closed as you tighten your pussy around him once, twice, three times.
Trent's hands ball into fists at your waist. He'd promised he'd be good. He wouldn't rush you, wouldn't try to take control, wouldn't make demands. But you've teased him. You've edged him. You've allowed him a physical taste of how you feel if he was to fuck you bare. You've taken him to a place where his pleads have turned to praise and back again.
"I need to be inside you. Properly." he adds, knowing you'd find the inches within you to be a loophole to his request.
"You said the same when I had your cock in my mouth. My hand was no longer good enough for you. You needed more then and you need more now."
"I do. Need you to fuck me. Please baby, please fuck me good."
"You're being greedy." you tell him.
"I said please."
"You did. And that's why I'm going to take my time," you say in a bored tone as you take another inch, and another until you're fully seated, his cock fully stretching you in ways only Trent can. "Open," you tell him, reaching forward and pressing two fingers to his lips. He does, sucking your fingers into his mouth and coating them in spit. Pulling them back from his mouth, you apply your now wet fingers to your swollen clit and begin to rub.
Your pussy contracts, tensing around him as your nerves react, pleasure flickering to life as you look down at him. "You're going to lay there while I play and cum. You're going to suck my nipples when I ask. And when I'm done, you can thank me and you'll be rewarded for your patience."
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sparxwrites · 3 years
Text
(Inspired by this post.)
Part of the Eldritch Boatem series.
[ao3]
The narrative is coming to get him.
Scar’s always been one for telling stories. It’s a remarkably effective way of getting what he wants. Not easy, no – though he makes it look easy. But it is effective.
Everyone loves a story! Hermits love a story, especially; there’s a reason he’s ended up with Hermitcraft as his home server. He’s yet to find a server where the players don’t, though. You tell the right story, and people will give you anything. Anything. It’s like having a masterkey to every lock in the universe. You pick a story, and you set the seed of it, you nurture it, you tame and control it into an extension of your will – you shape it just for the listener, and then watch as their heart opens up soft and half-voluntary beneath your hands from the flattery of it all.
The danger of opening locked doors for fun and profit, of course, is that some doors are locked for a reason.
Which is why Scar is careful with his stories. He tells stories about people – that diamond chestplate for five hundred friendship points, they’re valuable, I promise – or things – you need to flatter the enchanter, or it won’t work, just whisper some sweet nothings – but not the universe. You don’t tell stories about the universe. The universe has enough stories of its own to be getting on with, thank you very much.
The respawn is one story, or rather many, hundreds of stories told about stories across thousands of worlds; as many tries at your story as you want, if you believe that, and you may only tell this story once, if you believe that, and between two and seven tries, apportioned to each according to what they deserve, and when the red descends at last life you will kill those whom you love, and everything in between. Admins are another, wordsmiths capable and crazy enough to whisper sweetly to the universe and beg of it a favour or two; make me a world, a server, a haven and let me decide who to share my story with and let me trail my fingers across the source code of creation, let me dip into it, let me tweak and twist and pull. Creative mode, another; give us your story, and we will give you everything and trust us, there is space for the whole of the universe inside your head, would we lie to you? and come be we and be free.
Those kinds of stories – the big ones, the enduring ones, the ones that stretch within servers and across servers and between servers – are dangerous. Those kinds of stories are slippery, wont to get out of control. They get large enough to start telling stories about themselves in the blink of an eye, and then they’re gone, off the leash and with a life of their own. Scar is careful with his stories. He doesn’t make narratives about the Universe.
Grian, by contrast, has never been careful with anything, ever.
Scar’s not even sure if Grian realises he’s making narratives, half the time. He’s definitely sure Grian’s not crafting them. He just does them, just opens his mouth and lets words fall out in any which order he pleases, and lets a story out into the world without a single care for what it is or what it might do.
He starts stories for the joy of it, Grian does, with no thought for the consequences – and they are things of beauty, half-wild and un-collared and dangerous with it.
So, of course, it’s a Grian narrative that’s coming to get him. Of course it is! It’s Grian who looks at their ridiculous stack of boats and assorted junk, their newly-christened Boatem Pole, and says, we’re going to dig a hole under it. It’s Grian who says, Impulse, you can get through bedrock, right? Grian who says, I think we should make this hole into the Void the centre of our town.
Grian who says, it’s called the Boatem Hole, and it demands sacrifices, and we’re going to feed it.
But, of course, it’s not Grian that feeds it.
It’s Scar that falls in all the time, is pushed in all the time, loses his life and his possessions to the void over and over. He doesn’t mind overly much – Hermitcraft has a forgiving respawn narrative, as many tries as you want, death means very little here, be nice to those who’ve died, and there’s worse ways to go than the void. They make a joke of it, even, him and the rest of the Boatem crew – Scar the unlucky, Scar the klutz. Scar, who is the Boatem Hole’s favourite.
He should really have known better. A joke is a half-step away from a story, after all.
So what happens is, they make a narrative – him and Grian and Mumbo and Impulse and Pearl. A narrative about an improbably-balanced pile of boats, and a hole dug beneath it. A narrative about an impossible hole, hollowed out straight down and through the bottom of the world into the starving void below. A narrative about a void that picked a favourite, and pulled that favourite down into it over, and over, and over.
And the narrative is alive. The narrative is sentient. The narrative is hungry.
And Grian may have started it, Boatem Pole dig a hole build a town open the void make a sacrifice, but it’s Scar who finished it with it must like me. So, of course, the narrative is coming to get him.
Or rather… the narrative is not coming to get him. Because, Scar realises, as he wakes to the void all around him and against him and within him– as he wakes to perfect and absolute darkness, to stillness and silence and hunger that answers to the name of Boatem– it already has him.
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scaramoucheslove · 3 years
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PLEASE expand more on that Zhongli brat tamer thing you posted 🥺
Brat Tamer! Zhongli x Brat!Reader (GN)
Listen to me
What to expect: Spanking, Size kink?(a bit), Choking, Teasing in public, Getting called “whore” once I swear, Zhongli as ur god, fingering? lmk if I missed anything!
A/N: AAA BRAT TAMER ZHONGLI NEEDS MORE APPRECIATION </33
(also im so sorry if this is shit even tho i spent so much time writing it?? hurr i apologize and i tried to make it as gn as possible! <33)
Zhongli loves an obedient sub that listens to him and obey his rules. You, were the perfect little baby for him. You were his obedient, perfect little baby. Sure, you’ve been accidentally bad a couple times here and there. But imagine if someday, you were curious enough to see what’s it like to test his limit. So, when you were acting out of the ordinary, of course he’d be suspicious.
It all started when you both woke up. He’d always wake up first, usually drinking tea at the dinner table and you’d always greet him. But today, you felt a little braver than usual and decided to just ignore him and went ahead to the kitchen to grab your breakfast. He raised his brow, but thought nothing much of it. You put your plate on the table and played with your phone while eating your food.
Zhongli cleared his throat, causing you to look at him with a confused look on your face. “Good morning” he said with a smile, a fake one if I may add. You ignored him and continued to play your phone and eat your food. You could see his smile fade away in the corner of your eye. “I expect a response, no?” you looked at him, and his expression seems blank. “Uh, morning?” you answered blankly before continuing to ignore him. He sighs in defeat, standing up to prepare a hot shower to cool him off.
Zhongli said he’ll be meeting up with a few people for a while, and of course you being you, decided to tag along. You were confused on what to wear—until you remembered your little plan to push his buttons. You smirked at yourself before thinking. You had an idea. You put on the most revealing clothes you’ve ever worn out in public just to mess with him. Once you were done getting ready, he doesn’t say a single word. His gaze was enough to make a person tremble, thus why you were averting his eyes the whole time. He simply grabs your hands and wrapped it around his and said nothing more than a simple “Let’s go.”
You finally arrived at the Teahouse after quite some time. The moment you two opened the door, all eyes were on you. You looked absolutely stunning. Your looks may even be enough to tempt a god. Zhongli clearly tried to ignore the situation and dragged you to the back and seated you both at the corner of the Teahouse.
The meeting overall was boring. Although it was pretty boring, you had to admit that hearing people talking about Morax and acting as if they know more than Morax himself was kind of funny. You yawned in boredom and continued to look around before your eyes landed to your boyfriend’s figure that was sitting right beside you. His eyes that are completely focused, the way he talks, and the way his tall figure is sitting straight, asserting dominance through small, simple things. You couldn’t help but feel excited just by looking at him. Your excitement caused you to land your hand on your boyfriend’s thighs as he was listening to some people talking and discussing about the geo archon. He looked at you, confused and you gave him a small, sweet innocent smile, in which he returned.
But what he didn’t expect was for your hand to go higher and higher, until he realized that your hand was basically almost touching his dick. Before you could do anything further, he slapped your hand away and came closer to your ear to whisper, “Behave.” That action alone caused you to shiver and it tempted you even more. Biting your lower lip, you decided to wait for the right moment. After everyone was done talking and discussing, they asked for Zhongli’s opinion. And just right before he gets the chance to talk, you took the chance and managed to place your hand between his pants without raising any suspicions. He flinched slightly, earning worried looks from other people and workers. “My apologies, I thought I saw something.” He said as he kept his composure. And surprisingly enough, they believed him. Thank god you were seated in the corner so that no one could see what was actually happening between the two of you. You palmed him through his pants slowly as he explained about his opinion. You could hear the slight shake on his voice and clearing his throat way more than he normally does, even though he looked completely focused and well composed. “Mr. Zhongli? Are you feeling alright?” someone said in which he responded with a slight nod, and a pinch to your thighs as a warning. You gasped quietly in surprise and stopped your ministrations before looking at him. His stare was menacing, daring you to make another move. In which you responded by looking the other way and pouting as you rest your hands that was palming him a few seconds ago on the table.
The trip back home was silent. You didn’t dare utter a word, not after all that. You looked fine and chill on the outside, But inside? You were trembling. Was it really a good idea to make your god angry? Is it even worth it? Your thoughts were racing as you asked yourself. But there was no turning back.
You walked inside the house slowly, trying to keep calm and collected. You knew you were in deep trouble the moment he shuts the door with a slam. You saw a glimpse of his beautiful, black hair with a gradient, glowing, neon orange color near the ends of his hair, which usually occurred where he’s focused like in battles, or if he’s really pissed. You didn’t really want to test him any further, so you just decided to follow his next commands and obey him. “What has gotten into you?” He asked, voice demanding for an answer. You turned to him, looking to the ground instead while fiddling your hands. He clicked his tongue and forcefully held your chin so you were met with his amber colored eyes. “Talk” He demanded. You were unable to form coherent words and ended up stuttering on your words. He shakes his head in disapproval and practically dragged you into the bedroom.
He lets you go once you’ve both reached your shared bedroom. You watched as he sat himself on the edge of the bed, looking down and letting out a sigh. The moment his eyes met yours, you immediately looked down, not prepared for his eyes to pierce through you so sudden.
“Strip.” He said lowly. Calmly. But you knew him. It’s always the calm before the storm. You stood there, silently, not moving in the slightest. You could feel the tension in the room. He was disappointed. Of course he was! He had all the reasons to be. He walked towards you slowly, observing the outfit you wore. One of his gloved hand stroking it smoothly as his other hand gripped your jaw gently and made you look into his eyes. “Tsk, I have given you such a simple task. But I know you humans simply cannot do anything yourselves.” He practically spat as he tore your clothes off with both hands. Your eyes widened, mouth slightly opened and you froze due to shock as he chuckled at your reaction.
His two hands grabbed you by the shoulders and threw you onto the bed roughly, a contrast to his gentle grip on your jaw earlier. You continued to freeze in your place and he took the chance to pin both your hands with one of his, as his big and strong body kept your smaller one caged. You tried to get out of his grip. But it was no use. No matter how much you try, he will always overpower you.
“Tell me, love. Were you being a brat on purpose?” He asked you with a teasing tone on his voice. You closed your eyes and gave up, exhaling the breath you didn't notice you've been holding while nodding your head slowly in shame and embarrassment. He chuckled lowly as he lets both of your hand go and flipped you over. You yelped in surprise as he positioned himself so that your stomach was on his lap and he places his hand to rub gently on your ass.
You cried out, “Zhongli please I’m sorry-“ “Now, now. It’ll hurt a bit. But you mortals really need to be taught a lesson to know their place.” He says as one of his hand stroked your hair and the other continued to move gentle motions on your ass. “Zhongli pleas-“ Smack. A loud noise echoed across the room as you jolted forward and you felt your eyes beginning to water. “Can you just listen to me, brat?” his voice sounded clearly annoyed. The room was quiet for a while, until he broke the silence. “Stay silent and take it like the good pet I know you are.”
The sound of your cries and sniffles could be heard in the rather silent room. You were sobbing, hands starting to go numb as you gripped them onto the bedsheets, your ass sore and red from all the painful and harsh smacks Zhongli has delivered. You were trembling. It felt like hours since he started and it never seemed to end. He eventually stopped and started caressing the spots he had abused minutes before. “I’m sorry my love, but If I don’t do this then… you’ll never learn from your mistakes.” He explained. You were still sobbing, but a part of you was relieved that it was over.
He got you off his lap and laid you down carefully onto the bed as you finally closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. That is until you feel a hand tracing your back and onto your underwear. You felt him come closer as he whispered in your ear “Seems like someone got excited. Well, it isn’t really a punishment if you enjoyed it. Don’t you agree?” you can feel his hot breath fanning your ear.
He flipped you over, your back now facing the bed. You hissed slightly at the sting because your ass still hurts from his ministrations. He gently spread both of your legs apart as he sat himself in between your now-parted thighs and pulled your underwear down, in which he threw across the room. You tried to cover yourself up but again, it was no use. You were now exposed for him and his eyes to devour. “But I’ll have to admit, seeing you in that revealing outfit where everyone can see really makes me…” he paused as he searched for the right word before continuing. “Jealous.” You prayed to the archons to make it out alive before answering him. “Oh? M-maybe you’re just mad they can probably fuck me better than you.” You’ve done it. You took back what you said about obeying him, but at the wrong time. “Getting brave now, are we? How ironic for someone who cried over a punishment moments ago.” he bitterly chuckles. “Well then, we’ll just have to see how hard I’ll break you tonight.”
He took off his gloves and immediately gathered some of your wetness on his fingers, combining it with the drool he managed to get at the corners of your mouth. He wastes no time as he inserts one finger into your needy hole. You gasped and held onto the bedsheets once more, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. God, his fingers were long. You can feel him filling you up as he kept pistoning one finger in and out of you. But then you started to whine for more. For him to fill you up more. “Humans are indeed greedy, but you’re my greedy little human, aren’t you whore?” you scrambled over your words before he used his free hand to wrap it around your throat and tightening his hold around it. “Answer.” He stopped moving completely and you whined as you finally managed to answer. “Y-yes!” “Yes what?” “Yes, my lord.”
584 notes · View notes
wiypt-writes · 3 years
Text
Thnks Fr Th Mmrs
A Frank Adler One Shot.
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Summary: It’s Frank’s wedding night… but you’re not quite ready to let him go just yet.
Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+) allusions to cheating…
Pairings:  Frank Adler x Reader
A/N: Just a little smutty one shot featuring everyone’s favourite Dirty Boat Daddy. Written for @onlyjamesbarnes 1.5k Follower Challenge. Prompt in bold. Congrats babe!!
Lyrics from Fall Out Boy- Thnks Fr Th Mmrs
Frank Adler Master list // Main Masterlist
❤️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔
I'm gonna make you bend and break,
Say a prayer, but let the good times roll
In case God doesn't show…
Frank had always been powerless to resist you. He was a moth to your flame, but like always, you play with fire and you get burnt.
But now, you were the one burning, burning hotter than the sun.
With a groan, you ground your hips down as you leaned back, rolling and rocking down onto him. That face, sharp chiselled jawline covered by a slightly nearer than usual scruff looked back at you, his perfect profile silhouetted against the moonlight which drifted through the curtains of the hotel room.
How could something that wrong feel so fucking right?
And I want these words to make things right, But it's the wrongs that make the words come to life.
"Who does he think he is?"
If that's the worst you've got, better put your fingers back to the keys
He shouldn’t have let you in, but you knew he would as soon as he fired you the message with his room number. Your signature knock had sounded across the plush suite he was spending his last night as a ‘single’ man in, and like a sacrificial lamb welcoming its slaughter, he’d opened the door.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I wanted to see you.” You blinked up at him. He was still in his slacks and dress shirt, from the rehearsal you’d sat through, tie discarded, collar open. He cut a stark contrast to the boat greased and oil stained, salty air cured man you were used to.
He held the door open for you, stepping back and allowing you in. Without a word you walked over to the grand windows the space provided, offering a look at the shoreline outside and below. The view was breathtaking at night, the moonlight shining off the waves as they lapped at the shore, mere metres away from where tomorrow he would take his vows.
Through the reflection of the window behind you, you could see him just as his hands gripped at your waist. You turned on the ball of your foot, manicured fingers running up his chest from his strong pecs to his collarbones and over his shoulders to around his neck, your lips quickly on his. Your tongue slipped inside, tasting a hint of scotch, a half drunk glass of which sat on the small coffee table to the right. Frank moaned against your mouth while your fingers slipped through the neatly trimmed hair of his neck.
You pushed against him slightly with your body, the back of his legs hitting the chair besides the coffee table and he took a seat, breaking your kiss.
“This shouldn’t-“
“Shhh.” You shook your head. “Just give me tonight, please.”
He stared at you with lust blown eyes, different to the playful glint he normally possessed when he used to look at you, as you thought for a second about your next move, bottom lip already swollen from his kiss between your teeth.
You knew he was a goner.
"Y/N," he managed to croak out as you straddled his lap, seating yourself over his now hard cock, the rough fabric of his dark dress pants constraining him, giving you just enough teasing friction agasint your sensitive inner thighs. His large hands slid up your thighs and under your light coloured, flowy dress as you moved your lips over his again, giving him access to your ass, finger tips grazing the barely there material of your panties.
You ground down against him, your hips rolling in a circular motion as he growled into your mouth, squeezing your cheeks with his hands. You kicked off your sandals, making a thud as they hit the plush carpet. A sound that matched that of your heart. A heart that squeezed in your chest, as if someone had wound and elastic band around its middle knowing that tomorrow you’d watch him takes his vows.
And everything would change.
Frank broke away from your lips, to lick and nip at your jaw and down your neck, tongue rolling against your sternum. His face drilled between your breasts, inhaling your scent.
Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and plucked them open skillfully, French manicured nails raking across his chest, causing him to shudder and groan. You reached for the buckle of his belt, undoing it with little trouble, lifting your hips slightly, showing a strength in your thighs as you lifted away from him, to undo his flies. You adjusted yourself, pushing up on your knees just a little to allow the room you needed to dip your hand just under his boxers waistline, gently gripping at his dick.
“No, not here.” He growled, teeth nipping at the shell of your ear. “I want you in the bed.”
The bed. Where he would spend his first night as a married man.
It was so wrong.
Yet you happily obliged.
It was a well practiced tango the pair of you had danced over the years, and now here you were, him keening underneath you with a desperation you’d come to know well.
You could feel his cock pulsing against your walls and it gave you the chills. You held the power and control as he struggled to keep his.
With a quick movement, Frank sat up, pulling you flush against his chest, the angle hitting you just at that pleasurable spot he always managed to hit within you. His head dropped, lips and teeth gently teasing your nipple, large hands splayed agains your spine as he lavished you with affection.
You started grinding down harder, looking for that clitoral stimulation you wanted and as you found it, he moaned deeply into your ear.
“I’m close, but I don’t wanna… not yet.” His words were a plea, a plea that he wasn’t ready to end, and you knew he didn’t simply mean tonight.
But it had to. There was no way around it.
One night and one more time, thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great
"He tastes like you only sweeter"
"Just...let...go," you purred against him.
"Oh fahk," he ground out as his feet planted firmly into the mattress and his hips thrust upward. It didn't take much, a few strong and hard drives and you were crying out his name, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you came around around him.
"Jesus, fahkk, I'm gonna fahking.... Oh fahk," he swore vehemently, his old Boston drawl thick as he drove hard into you for a final time, exploding his load deep into you, spraying your walls with ribbons of white cream.
The pair of you collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent. Frank kept you held to his chest as you both drew ragged, heaving breaths. After a moment, Frank pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, no words needed.
And you blinked back a solitary tear.
*****
I'm looking forward to the future, but my eyesight is going bad.
And this crystal ball, it’s always cloudy except for when you look into the past
One night stand
Frank had fallen asleep with you in his arms, not quite ready to let you go. But you were long gone by the time he woke the next morning, the only evidence you’d been in his room was a scribbled note on the pad on the night stand.
“Here’s to the first day of the rest of your life.”
He’d folded the note up and slipped it into his breast pocket, not quite sure why. Maybe it would keep you close to him in those moments he needed to feel you, who knows.
Who knows why any of this had started in the first place.
He watched Mary walk down the aisle first, her bouquet in her hand had been dropped as she had leapt into his arms for a hug, laughing as she told him how excited she was. He’d kissed her cheek and placed her down and she stood by his side, watching as his bride and her father started towards him.
It was then Frank’s eyes had found yours as you watched him, and he swallowed, his chest contracting.
He could still feel your eyes on him and he couldn’t get the image of you bouncing on top of his cock out of his head. He blinked as someone said his name, and he looked at the officiant, clearing his throat.
“Sorry, little nervous.” He apologised, flashing a cheeky grin before he took a deep breath.
A couple of I-Dos later, he was told to kiss his wife. So he did.
And all he could taste was you.
Man and wife walked hand in hand down the aisle to applause, and at the end they stopped and the new Mrs Adler peered up at Frank, a soft smile on her face.
“You happy?”
“Of course.” He smiled back.
“Good, because choosing me to spend your life with, well, I actually think it’s the second best choice you’ve ever made in your life.”
Frank blinked as he heard the click of the photographer's camera. “Oh? The second? What was the first?”
“Letting me into your room last night.” You grinned, your hand sliding up his tux, the diamond studded band catching the sun, glinting in the bright light.
Frank grinned at you, before he arched his eyebrow. “Time will tell if it really was bad luck to see my wife the night before.”
“Didn’t feel like bad luck to me,” you smirked, you hand gently tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as he dropped his head to kiss you, the cheers and applause once more chiming in your ears.
One night and one more time, thanks for the memories
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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years
Text
~ 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐚 ~
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𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝; SMUT!!! a smidge of angst and a lil fluff, felix x fem!reader. enemies to fwb, bullying!!!, highschool!au, blowjob, pierced!felix, mentions of complicated family relationships/bad economy, felix being rude lmao, PIV, unprotected sex (use protections ffs, this is a bad example), orgasm (m/f), cum, nicknames, shy reader, fingering. 
𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝; 6.6 k 
𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎; Consent is like tea or my personal favorite,,, tea slut HSAHSHA PLEASE im- anyways enjoy both tea and consent, both very very sexy and good for you
also,,, my first kinda long fic?? 
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𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺; Lee Felix. The class bully. Also the son of a wealthy business man. You didn’t have the same privileges, living alone at such a young age. After an arrangement Felix invites you to work at his fathers old tea shop but this relationship turns into something unexpected.
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The cold wind blew on your exposed calfs, the skirt of the school uniform fluttering as your backpack was lazily thrown across your shoulder, your head turned to the direction the bus comes from. You were not the only one on that bus stop. Other students standing at least a feet apart from each other, all eagerly waiting to hurry back to their comfortable homes, eat dinner and start on their assignments.
You on the other hand had other plans. 
What was on your computer screen wasn’t the typical essay or sheet of physics questions. It was job applications. And lots of them.
A notification arrived, your phone vibrating in your coat pocket and as the screen lit up you saw a message. 
[ Rent due today y/n, have it in by 8 ]
Living by yourself in a dusty apartment that contained nothing more than a bed, a desk and a tiny kitchen overfilled with noodle packets was nothing to be proud of. You could barely afford that type of lifestyle since you were a student so how on earth were you gonna get rent in to the old lady that served as your landlord? 
You sighed, the packed bus rolling slowly on the way and stopping, there barely being place to stand in the crowded vehicle. 
Your apartment was right above an old tea shop, the owner being a wealthy man that owned several shops on the block. His busy lifestyle including buying and selling properties kept him away from his true passion in life; tea. What scared you was his resemblance to a person you knew. A person you knew too well. 
Lee Felix
His only purpose in life was to have fun. To ruin others. And he had every opporunity to do so. His report card was nothing but lies and money, his fathers wealth being able to buy him decent grades without lifting a finger. There was one, only one, instance where the young boy would try his best and that’s when intimidating others. His best skill. Those piercing dark eyes and knife-sharp jaw could leave anyone shaken for days. 
But do you know who his favorite person to bully was?
You. 
All the hurtful memories eventually started to merge together but one stood out clearly to you. It happened a year ago. You walked into the sunlit classroom, your other classmates sitting around their desks, chatting and showing each other photos, laughing happily. Friends was not something you had, more like acquaintance. The students you would greet and exchange a couple of words with but nothing more. Your assigned seat was in the third row, the one sitting right behind you being Felix himself. With a quick glance at the clock you looked underneath your desk, searching for the book you needed for english class, your eyebrows furrowing as you searched desperatly, turning every book over and ripping open your backpack, did you forget it at home?
“Looking for this?”
The cold voice sent a shiver down your spine, you slowly turning back, afraid of what evil gaze awaited you. You gulped as you saw his angular facial structure, his cheekbones pertruding as he held your english book in his hand, the arms of the white school uniform shirt being rolled up just enough to show off his blinged out watch, veins softly trailing upwards on his flexed arms. 
You nodded to which Felix scoffed. Sighing you stood up, standing at the side of his desk and all of a sudden throwing yourself over it in a quest of snatching it from his grasp but failing epically, you falling down onto the floor, scraping your knees on the rough wooden flooring of the classroom. You try to stand up but was quickly stopped by Felix grabbing your face with his other hand, his wrists decked out with multiple delicate chains, all jingling with his movements. 
Meeting his gaze made your skin crawl, his eyes almost animalistic as he looked deep into your innocent doe-eyes, smirking. His blonde hair falling on each side of his face, framing it like a renaissance painting since his stoic features was art in itself. Your eyes lingered a bit too long on Felix’s making the boy annoyed, before you knew it a clear liquid was spilling down your cheek, that not being tears but instead Felix’s spit. You flinch back as he waves the book infront of your face, tears jerking in the corner of your glossy eyes due to the humiliation, your other classmates forming a circle around the two of you, unable to do anything since that could mean the end of them. 
“You want this, you want it so bad? What’s that angel? You’re gonna cry?”
He crouches as your gaze lowers to the floor, hair hanging infront of your face as a shield from his degrading words as the tears started pouring out of you like water, mixing with Felix’s saliva. He laughs psychotically, the cold laughter echoing in the classroom, tiny specs of dusty floating around like bubbles in a fizzy drink. The bold boy puts down the book on the floor behind him before he raises his hand, you shutting your eyes tightly, expecting the worst but being surprised as his hand laces in your disheveled locks. He pushes a strand of hair behind your flushed ear, leaning in close enough for you to feel his breath hit the shell of your ear. 
“I’m gonna give it to you,,, but I want something in return”
You snap your head up to look at him, your eyes wide open, eyebrows hightened. 
“W-what do you want?” you say, only for him to hear.
Felix hums, running his tongue in the inside on his cheek before speaking in a low voice.
“You”
You choked on your own spit, coughing as you turned away from him. You could hear his laugh ringing in your ears and after your coughing fit you turned back hastily, eyes as big as saucers. This couldn’t be true, this couldn’t be what you though it was. In sheer panic you once again tried to snatch the book, crawling on the floor like a bug in order to snake around his back to have a chance to grab the corner of plastic outside of the textbook but being met with disappointment when Felix slammed his foot on it, you retracting your hand after being mere inches away from his shoe. The boy tsked. 
“I expect you at the school gate by the end of the day and if you don’t show up you’re gonna pay for it, understood angel?”
You nod, just nod. No words or mimicks. Simply a nod. His intimidation wiping the entire alphabet from your mind. 
He stands up, grabbing the book and throwing it at you before exiting the classroom, a evil smirk plastered on his face. The sharp gazes of other students around you made you want to escape but you couldn’t, class was starting in 2 minutes. 
♡ 
The sun shone it’s rays on your face, students exiting through the wide white metal gates. You ran your hand through your hair, pulling the straps of your backpack impatiently at you looked left to right, seeing the flowers blossom out in the rather windy weather. Suddenly your wrist was grabbed by a hand wider than yours.
It was Felix.
His closeness made you gulp loudly, a lump nestling into your stomach as you felt your anxiety rise, scared of what he might do to you even if you did find him strangely attractive even though he was a complete asshole. But who didn’t? The entire school was ready to give up their life in order to even be this close to the boy, girls and boys alike. You shook your head, wanting to get rid of the silly thoughts that clouded your mind. Only after minutes did you realise that your legs moved on their own, you being dragged by Felix, his hand still on your wrist. 
“W-where are we going?” you inquired, the wind blowing on the blonde pierced boy, his angelic hair bouncing with every step. 
“Don’t worry about it” he said, not speaking a single more word during the entire time he held your wrist and walked with you in the spring weather. 
All of a sudden the two of you were standing infront of the tea shop, you lifting your head to glance upwards at your dusty window that was right above the tiny wooden sign that said “Tea Shop”, swinging rustily back and forward. Felix retrieves a key, unlocking the corrodated wooden door, the color matching the sign above. 
“Wh- how do you know-” 
Felix hushes you, closing the door behind you before throwing the keys on the counter. 
“I don’t care about what you have to say. My father owns this place and I usually hang around here whenever it’s closed.” 
“Do you work here?” you asked with a voice filled with curiosity. 
Felix starts laughing his signature laugh, it being laced with nothing but iniquity. 
“Work? Do you think I need to work? I’m the only child of a wealthy family, I’m pretty much settled for life”
You nervously look down at the floor, only being in the tea shop a couple of times before it was closed for business.
“Well,,, I know that your father owns this place, I live in the apartment just above so-”
You were quickly cut of by Felix slamming his hand on the table, standing behind the checkout counter and leaning over it with his two arms as pedestals. 
“Why?”
You looked at him confused before your eyes gazed across the wall of glas cabinets displaying their finest china. Teapots with squiggly handles, painted with the utmost attention to detail, the colors of the scenes painted contrasting nicely with the eggshell white background. Small lamps were installed above each teapot, illuminating the work of art even more. 
“Why what?” you said back, still in trance from the beauty of the teapots.
“Why do you live alone?” His eyebrows raised.
“I never said that!” 
“y/n, that apartment is barely enough for a fucking mouse, there’s no way you could live there with someone else”
Damn, how did he know that? You had no other choice but to nod timidly, curling your hand into a fist.
“Don’t have the best relationship with my parents and since they aren’t wealthy like yours I have to do my best to find a way to support myself” you spat out at him, annoyed at his many questions. 
“Touché” Felix said shortly, shrugging his shoulders.
After a long moment of silence the blonde boy spoke again;
“Let’s make a deal, I’ll get you a job here and I’ll join you but only because you’re stupid and need my help, not because I want to be here”
Your eyes light up, like an excited child you dash toward the counter and place your hands near Felix’s, looking at him with twinkling eyes. 
“Really? You would do that?”
Felix nods.
“But don’t get too excited, you haven’t paid your end of the deal yet”
“Tell me! I’ll do anything, I promise!” you says quickly, smiling widely at Felix’s deadpan face.
“Suck me off”
Your previously bright smile faded in a matter of seconds, now turning into pure confusion. 
“Wh-what? I can’t do that! Are you crazy?!”
Felix scoffs, walking towards the door in a cocky manner with his black backpack over his shoulder, wearing black ripped jeans that were strictly banned in school but no longer warned to Felix by the teachers. The schools logo embroidered on the white flowy shirt that was unbuttoned, exposing his brand name t-shirt. 
Just in time you managed to block the door, his lips inches from yours as he sighed, smirking down at you. 
“I’ll do it! I will do it!” 
You blurted out, you had no other choice but to do it. Seeking other jobs had been impossible since you were only a student without any work experience, not having many other skills other than procrastinating and sleeping. You needed this in order to survive. You needed him. 
The boy pushed you against the entrance door, placing his forehead against yours. 
“Of course you will” Felix whispered in a voice deeper than the ocean, causing you to helplessly gulp and drop down on your knees, them hitting the floor with a thump. His small but veiny hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it in a swift motion, metal hitting each other. You were lost deep in thoughts, simply staring at his crotch whilst rethinking your every life decision. Wondering how on earth you got to this point, soon having your mouth stuffed with your bully’s dick. 
Thank god that he was at least hot. 
Felix popped his dick over the band of his underwear and as if you hadn’t had enough surprises today one last one awaited you. A silver metal barbell lodged right beneath his pretty red tip, his dick already hard as he gave it a couple of pumps. Your mouth fell agape, cheeks heating up as you struggled to keep a straight face. Felix being the tease he is had to comment;
“What? Bigger than you thought?”
You scoffed from his boldness, not believing your ears. 
“N-no! Get over yourself you ass”
“Enough talking princess” Felix said in a deep voice, rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on your plushy lips, them being coated with a layer of saliva from you repeatedly lickning them out of nervousness. 
There was a moment of awkwardness, you not being sure where to place your hands before you grabbed the base of his girthy dick, pursing your lips and latching them onto the tip, sinking down gradually in order to not choke immedietly, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more than you already had. 
Felix let out a strained groan at the sensation, you feeling the cold metal as you flattened your tongue, licking a fat strap on the underside of his cock earning yet another groan. The blonde laced his fingers in your hair, tugging on it slightly in order to control the sinful sounds dripping out of his mouth. You whimpered against his dick, there barely being any room to breath as your nose was hovering just above his abdomen, impressed by your own gag reflex but that didn’t last long, Felix now shoving your head down his length, making you choke. 
“Wow, is there anything you can do right? Can’t even suck me off properly”
You can only hum in response, sending shivers down Felix’s spine from the vibrations, the boy feeling the knot in his stomach tightening. The hair flies in front of you face as you bob your head down his cock that was equally as veiny as his decked out arms, feeling the metal hitting your bottom teeth a couple of times. Tears teased the corners of your eyes as you were throat deep on Felix’s member, your hands slightly sweaty from the butterflies in your stomach. Eventually Felix started to weaken in your grasp, small grunts escaping him as you hollowed your cheeks, mascara staining your heated cheeks. 
“f-fuck,,,yes just like that,,ah-”
Luckily for the both of you the shop was located in a rather desolate area of town therefore no bypassers saw the scandalous view through the door that was decorated with a small foggged window. But did Felix care? Not really, the boy was bold enough to get sucked off in public if the opportunity presented itself. 
You looked up at him with the most innocent eyes you could muster, spit starting to dribble down your chin and landing on your skirt, forming slightly saturated patches on the fabric from the wetness. The blonde boys useless comments didn’t make it any easier to withstand this agonizing process. 
“Ah,,, never thought I would be seeing you like this, thought I had degraded you enough but this is just another level of humiliation, isn’t it y/n?”
The hand that was previously tangled in your hair was now moved to your stained cheek, him carefully swiping his thumb across the warm skin but you furrowed your eyebrows, swatting his hand away causing him to scoff before being interupted by his own loud moan, you pulling off and kitten licking his tip, coaxing his impending orgasm. 
It didn’t take long before the boy was shutting his eyes tightly, his jaw slacking as a last low vibrational growl ringed in your ears, his eyes still piercing yours while the thick white liquid spilled out of him, coating the metal bar and seeped into your mouth, your dry lips now getting a coat of clear gloss, the rest dripping down onto the floor and your dark colored skirt. 
You shook your head as you looked around the shop, not wanting to spit out his salty seed right on the floor but Felix simply shook his head back at you, grabbing your face gently. 
“Swallow”
Goosebumps erupted on your skin from his intimidating voice, as if you’d been cast under a spell you nod, swallowing the droplets of cum harshly, the sound of your loud gulp causing Felix to hum and with a smile, ruffle your hair before zipping himself up and running a hand through his own hair, exposing his forehead for just a bit. You stand up on your own, legs wobbling as you don’t even expect the rude boy to help. 
“You start tomorrow after school, my father will only be happy to know that someone actually want’s to work in this shithole. I’ll join you but once again, not because I want to but because your stupid head will mess everything up.”
You nod, only now noticing how scruffy the rest of the teashop looked, moving boxes piling up like the dust in the windowsills. You jerked your head to the side, eyes wandering all over the place, everywhere from the wittering plants to the miscellaneous stacks of files. 
The both of you step out of the dusty shop, the cool air hitting your cheek, now remembering the makeup that was running down it. Without saying a word Felix tries to escape but you stop him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t turn around, staring at the road ahead of him. 
“Thank you”
You whisper out, your hair fluttering in the wind, feeling yourself getting emotional from his seemingly sweet gesture. Felix starts walking, the sound of his footsteps getting fainter as the disappears down the sunny asphalt road, leaving you standing infront of the shop before you go behind the shop, entering your burrow of an apartment.
♡ 
You walk to the teashop in the floral spring weather, wondering where Felix had been all day since he wasn’t in school this wednesday where lectures went in half speed. Arriving at the shop everything was surprisingly closed. You peeked into the window, standing on your toes as if that would improve your vision but gave up quickly after, only seeing the scene from yesterday, the same old piles of rubbish. 
A light tap threw you off guard, you yelping and jerking away before noticing the blonde hair, Felix greeting you with a jingle of keys in his hand.
“Wanna have the honors? I mean, it is your first day after all” 
You respond with a small “yes” before grabbing the keys from his hand and unlocking the entrance to the stuffy teashop, coughing as you step in from the dust that twirled all around the two of you. You walked over to the sad plants that were placed haphazardly in the windowsill, swiping your finger over the leafs and closely examining the dust that rubbed off, blowing it away softly before turning to Felix that was nearing the pile of random files. 
“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do before we can actually brew tea” 
He didn’t smile, visibly annoyed. Felix went into the back, behind the beaded curtain he retrieved a bucket of cleaning supplies. 
“You mop the floors, I’ll clean some of the heavy stuff away” 
Felix said, his voice still in that notorious deep tone. 
“Not fair? There’s not even a mop which means I’ll have to do it by hand?” 
Felix scoffed, throwing a old rag at you before turning around and grabbing a moving box filled with god knows what. You sigh, grabbing the bucket and emptying the contents, the brushes and strangly colored bottles of cleaning solution spreading across the counter before you went behind the beaded curtain, being met by a murky kitchen that hadn’t been cleaned in what seemed like forever. You sighed, looking around and opening cabinets only to be met with half broken porcelain and cobwebs, the shelf at the top displaying a multitude of metal cans filled with loose tea that had probably gone tasteless. With a disgusted face you close the cabinet, instead filling up the bucket with water and adding dishsoap in lack of other cleaning substance. 
Hours ticked by, Felix sighing and huffing out of annoyance when carrying out and sorting through countless boxes while you cleaned the floor and dusted every corner, the shop transforming right before your eyes. The two of you eventually ended up in the kitchen, you observing every cup for cracks and disposing of those that showed just that as Felix was washing those that you thought looked presentable. Felix tried his best to not drop the cups despite his slippery fingers in a pathetic attempt at trying to do the dishes, it was clear that he had never in his life had to do this which made you roll your eyes, thinking about the boiling anger you had at this pompous and spoiled boy. 
“Do you like living alone y/n? ” 
The question was rather unexpected, making you choke on your own saliva. Never in your life had you thought that he cared about you. You shrugged your shoulders, wanting to appear unbothered.
“y-yeah, I wanted to be more responsible, I mean we are adults soon and nothing is served on a silver platter but I wouldn’t expect you to know.”
Felix smirked, seeing right through your lie but choosing to not taunt you. You felt vulnerable from the question but instead of continuing the awkward silence you wanted to get to know him better, maybe he wasn’t such a dick after all, maybe his tough guy personality was only a facade?
“What’s with that piercing?” you said, pointing at his groin with your chin making Felix laugh, getting shy from your question but snapping back to his cold outer self. 
“It was a bet and as you can see I lost” he scoffed before continuing, “wanna see?”
Your eyes widened, cheeks heating up before stammering out;
“N-no, Felix you’re disgusting!” you say in desperation for an answer but Felix only laughs even more, almost annoying you. 
“Well it wasn’t so disgusting when you were sucking me off, have you forgotten babygirl? Maybe I should teach you your place again.”
You gulped, not answering but instead just staring at him, a cup frozen in your hand as Felix locks his eyes with your, tilting his head in a cocky manner. You harshly place the cup down, storming out into the area where racks upon racks displayed the many tea sorts that were stashed away somewhere in the shop, Felix retrieving them earlier in the day. You start sorting through them, seeing a paper with orders on a clipboard and deciding to check the different kinds. Everything from oolong to pu’er to herbal was lined up in both teabags or loose tea leafs and surprisingly Felix did a good job, everything displayed in pretty and uniform lines. Before you could put a dash for a variety of tea that was missing. Felix sticks his head in between the beaded strings of the curtain, his eyes twinkling. 
“Want some tea?”
For the first time he seemed cute. Not scary or intimidating, just cute. By the way his blonde locks fell infront of his face to the way his earrings were jingling, fading out to his angular facial structure. 
You nod shyly, placing the clipboard on a random shelf before scooting over to the kitchen, seeing that Felix had placed out a white teapot with cobalt blue details, a floral pattern that contradicted to the eggshell white base. On the counter stood a small brown paperbag with black tea and right next to it a small tray of white sugarcubes. 
“This seems awfully complicated for making tea” you say, looking at the red kettle boiling on the stove, there not being an electric kettle in this old establishment. 
“What you expect? That I’ll be satisfied with you serving some watered down tea from a teabag? There’s a process you know.”
“Wow, and this is coming from Lee Felix? The son of a rich man and also the schools scumbag?”
Felix snaps his towards you, previously looking at the piping hot kettle. He licked the inside of his cheek, exhaling sharply through his nose, turning his cheek towards his shoulder, a momentary pop being heard before he looked at you with his dark eyes.
“I’m being nice, take that to your advantage and I’ll break your kneecaps”
You nodded and he smiled, astonished by the duality of this man. 
“Are you just gonna stand there? Come closer”
You stepped closer to the counter, your breath hitching when you felt Felix’s chest again your back, his hands leaning against the counter and trapping you between the two. You swallowed harshly, eyes darting over the various equipment needed to make a simple cup of tea. 
“Open the tea pot maybe?”
Felix said, sighing. You feeling his warm breath against the outer shell of your ear, his voice sounding even more dangerous when it was right beside you. You grabbed the blue detailed teapot and opened it, only to see a metal strainer already a part of the pot. Doubtfully you grabbed the little packet of loose leaf tea, removing and placing down the clip that was hindering it’s aroma from escaping the luxurious leafs. The fragrence of the tea hit your senses, the smell almost addictive. 
“What tea is this?” 
You said, turning the bag in you hand, looking for any type of lettering that would bring you closer to an answer.
“Russian earl grey. It contains bergamot orange making it more pungent”
You hummed, being to scared to turn around and face him, you now zoning out whilst your eyes were stuck on the awfully colored tiles on the kitchen wall. 
“You’re supposed to drink it y/n, not smell it”
Felix stated causing you to snap out and notice that you’ve been holding the bag to your nose, scrunching your nose ever so often. 
“Oh yeah,,, right,,, sorry. How much should I put in?”
You say, tilting the bag and slowly watching dark colored particles spill into the metal strainer. Felix slowly put his hand on yours, tilting the bag even more. You could feel your heart in your throat, your hands starting to sweat from his close proximity. His hand was warm for such a cold person. 
“It’s supposed to fill up one third of the strainer, remember that”
You mewled out a quiet “yes” as he put the bag down, removing his hand from yours. The next step was obvious, filling up the tea pot with hot water. Just as you were about to grab the black handle of the shiny red kettle Felix smacked your hand away, him grabbing it instead.
“It’s hot and I can’t trust someone as stupid as you with it”
“I can grab a kettle you know? I’m not that weak-”
“Shut it”
You pressed your lips shut as Felix pressed himself against your back, carefully reaching and pouring in the steaming water and seeing the water droplets diffuse up into the atmosphere. He carefully put the lid back on the pot and backed away as he put the kettle back on the stove, turning it off. 
“What do we do now?” 
You asked, turning around and leaning your butt against the cold counter.
“We wait for 5 minutes, the steeping time is different for different teas, you’ll have to learn them when working here.”
You nod attentively, staring down at your shoes and turning your heels against the dark wooden floorboards. 
“I wanna change the deal y/n”
Your head shot up to the blonde boy, him standing close by in all his glory, not wearing his school uniform but instead a black t-shirt, of course having a obnoxiously loud designer logo in the front just like the belt that was resting on top of his black slacks. His bracelets jingled everytime he moved his hands, this time wearing dainty silver rings to match with his wristwatch and shining piercings. 
“W-what why? Are you gonna fire me?”
Blood was boiling in your veins, not knowing his intentions yet but knowing that they were just as sinister as the boy himself. Before you knew it his lips were attached on yours.
Your heart skipped a beat, knuckles whitening as you held onto the counter from sheer panic. His lips were softer than expected, pressing gently as he tilted his head, his eyelashes feathering over his closed lids. His hands traveled up your clothed body, exploring every inch of you. The soft sound of lips smacking against each other ignited a feeling deep in your core. You were pushed closer to the edge of the counter, his body so close, leaving you with no choice but to jump up on the metal surface. The coldness radiated through the thin fabric of your pleated skirt, hitting your aching cunt that was already dripping from Felix’s simple actions, his daunting aura clouding your mind with sinful thoughts. 
“I’ll raise your pay if you fuck me, please y/n”
He whispers against your plush lips. You hummed, hesitating before slowly nodding, not being able to think clear with your heart beating like it’s about to protrude from your chest. He smiles slyly before reattaching his lips onto yours, his wet and sharp tongue running over your swollen bottom lip, desperatly wanting to taste your tongue. Your lips parted as you moaned into the kiss, giving him the perfect opportunity to pry himself into your mouth, the kiss getting sloppier, Felix growing needier as the seconds on the large clock on top of the door frame ticked. The blonde boy placed himself inbetween your legs, his veiny hands placed on your knees, seperating your already shivering legs. Without knowing what you were doing you cupped Felix’s cheeks, feeling the sharpness of his jaw against your soft hands.
Why did you pull him closer? He’d hurt you so bad in the past, everyday was living hell because of him and his deeds. A lightheadedness hit you as memories scrolled past your consciousness. Memories still painful, tender as open wounds. But for him you could forgive anything. Forget, just to see him smile at you.
His cologne was strangely addictive, the musky smell mixed with the scent of his soft sunkissed skin. You moaned softly against his lips as his fingers traced lightly over your exposed panties, the skirt already folded up your thighs. He hummed in delight, feeling the soaked fabric sticking against your pulsating cunt. 
“I’ve waited for this for so long y/n”
You looked at him with confusion in your glossy eyes. Waited, for you?
Within a matter of seconds his fingers pushed aside the wet patch of fabric shielding you from the cold air, only to insert a finger inside of your desperate hole causing you to gasp. A second finger joined close by and Felix groaned, feeling your tight walls around his glistening digits. You had so many questions but not enough power to say them without stuttering.
“W-waited for,,, m-me?”
His fingers curled upwards as you finished your sentence causing you to grip his wrist, the squelching sound of your pussy pleasing the blonde boy as he pumped his fingers into you relentlessly.
“That’s how I get attention. You aren’t impressed by materialistic things so I did what I had to”
You couldn’t believe your ears. All that to get your attention? He succeeded but he would never understand the emotions you went through because of him. The hatered you thought would never melt away suddenly did, you becoming nothing more but a whimpering mess from his touch. 
A thump was heard from your head hitting the cupboard, the pleasure firing through your body as your small cries echoed throughout the small kitchen. A sudden feeling of emptiness caused you to sigh in both relief and frustration. Your previously shut eyes slowly drifted open, panicked when you see Felix unbuckling his belt, letting both the fabric of his pants and underwear fall to the dim floor. 
Somehow his leaking cock looked prettier this time around, the shiny piercing distracting to the eye. Your mouth watered embarrassingly enough, turning your gaze to the ticking clock until Felix cleared his throat, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed his spit. He looked nervous which was unfamilliar, the boy always being persistant with his cocky mannerisms. Felix pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, your face heating up as your legs were spread wide open for him. There was nowhere you could hide your flushed face and Felix took this to his advantage.
“Huh? Shy, babygirl?” 
You gulped as you watched him stroke himself, the crimson colored tip disappearing only to reappear seconds later. Your eyes shut tightly as he moved the slick-stained panties to the side, anticipating to be filled to the brim from his impressive size. Mouth agape, Felix pushed into your wet hole, your hands gripping his broad shoulder in order to hinder a loud moan. 
“fuck y/n,,, you’re so tight, s-shit”
You couldn’t answer, still adjusting your velvety walls around him. As the pain subsided your core ached for friction, needing to feel him deep inside of you. Your arms wrapped around the boy, pulling him closer to your heated body making him smirk slyly before carefully pulling away, only his tip resting inside of you. Just as you were about to sigh due to emptiness he slammed inside of you, your entire body shaking from the impact. Panting, you begged for more, begging for him to go faster.
“F-felix! faster,,, please”
Your warm face was buried deep in his shoulder, his slightly cold hands gripping your hips tightly, starting to roll against your throbbing cunt earning small mewls from between your swollen lips. The counter creaked with each thrust that grew louder as his pace got faster, feeling your delicate walls clench around his veiny length, his silver earrings dangling from his lobes. Felix explored parts of your body even you hadn’t felt, his dick prodding you deep enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, biting down on his shirt. 
The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room, your weakening legs wrapping around his figure, trapping him inside of you but the blonde boy had no plans of stopping. Sweat beaded around his temples, his previously serious expressing turning into a grin as he adored your moans, words falling out in incomprehensible syllables. You were close and so was Felix. 
The pit of fire grew violent deep in your core, holding the young boy tighter to your body, clawing his clothed back. Every thrust had it’s impact, shaking you up and forcing shameless moans out from your throat that were being muffled by the fabric between your lips. The two of you moaned in unison, Felix’s deep mutters getting louder, his vicious thrusts becoming sloppier and uneven, desperate for his sweet release. You clenched around him involuntarily, trying to hold back from screaming, glad that your warm face was between his shoulder and neck so that he couldn’t see your fucked out expression. His name rolled off your tongue like a mantra, mind blank as your eyes were squeezed shut.
“Felix, i-im gonna c-cum! im-m cumming!”
The wall seperating you from your orgasm collapsed, leaving you with a powerful sensation washing over you. Your legs shook, struggling to keep your legs wrapped around him but soon enough you wouldn’t have to. Felix thrusted into you one final time, sending a shiver down your spine and overstimulating you before pulling out, his dick glistening with your erotic juices as he fucked his hand, hot spurts of cum leaking out. He growled, scrunching his forehead as he released on your shaking thighs, one last droplet of cum descending down his shaft and coating the shiny piercing that decorated his pretty cock. 
You panted, still processing what just happened, looking at Felix that unwrapped his hand from around his member, dick turning flaccid. You lifted yourself off the counter, only then realising how weak your legs were, not letting go of the surface you just fucked on. 
“Is this a one time thing or,,,” 
You start, not really knowing what to say afterwards. Felix cleared his throat, putting on his pants as you fixed your dark skirt, back against the boy.
“Let’s be friends”
You turned around, gazing at Felix as he looked down at the grimy floor.
“I’ll stop,,, bothering you, now we’re friends,,, with benefits but it’s a secret, understand?”
Every sentence this man spoke sounded serious with his deep voice but this was serious, for real. 
“Why should I? Why should I agree, Felix? So that you can play around with me even more, make me your little shy puppet? I’m not having it!!”
You yelled at the boy, his expression deadpan as you hit him in the abdomen, instantly regretting it as your knuckles hit his rock hard abs. Frustration clouded your mind, wanting to break every single piece of porcelain in the narrow kitchen. Instead you broke yourself apart. Crying in front of Felix like you’d done so many times before, dropping to the floor and feeling the cold material against your bare thigh. This feeling, so familiar. Felix gazing down on you like you we’re worth nothing more than the ground. 
Only this time he didn’t only stand and stare. 
His arms wrapped around your quivering figure, his embrace warmer than his face. 
“I’m sorry, y/n”
His voice shook as the silence overtook the both of you, the quiet ticking of the clock interupting. 
“Hm? Look at me, y/n”
Felix pulled away from you, sitting on the floor next to you, watching your head hang low as he gently put a hand on your jaw, lifting your gaze up to meet his. 
“I’m fucking stupid, I know. I shouldn’t have hurt you like that but,,, I didn’t know how- how to get closer to you.”
He swiped the rough pad of his thumb across your cheek, wiping your tears. 
“I will never hurt you ever again, y/n. We- we can work here and just,,, do stuff.”
You knew exactly what he meant by “stuff” but somehow you trusted him. You trusted him because you had no one else to trust. 
“But one rule” he said.
You tilted your head, wondering what his rule was.
“No falling in love”
You hummed, nodding as you wiped your tearstained cheeks with the sleeves of your shirt, cracking a smile at your own vulnerability. Felix stood up and you looked up at him, feeling small but not afraid. 
“So what do you say, y/n?”
He offered you his hand, you couldn’t stop looking into his secretive eyes that slowly turned mellow. 
You grabbed his hand, passing it as a yes to his question. 
But the both of you knew that the rule would be broken soon, like the brittle edge of a teacup. 
514 notes · View notes
keeper0fthestars · 4 years
Text
would you let me
din djarin x fem!reader (au)
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summary: tattooed!din. guys you should know me by now, there’s no plot this is shamelessly soft and a little bit of filth (you can assume this takes place well after the events of ywmnd, but it can be read as a stand-alone fic)
warnings: Din without his helmet, 18+ explicit, fluff/smut, love and affection, oral f receiving, praise kink, y’all din is Hor-neeeee, dirty talk sort of, possessive din, cock warming, unprotected sex, oh yea- din doesn’t realize how enamoured you are with his tattoos.
a/n: Did I intend for this to be 2.8k words? Hahaha, oh god, in my head this was only 600 words at the most and i have nothing to say for myself, all i want is Din Djarin to be being safe, stable and happy.
✨immaculate✨moodboard at the bottom by: @bxbafett​
~~
His skin tingles where you still touch him.
The sweat has dried but he can’t yet bring himself to move from where he'd collapsed next to you on the pillows a few minutes ago. Sprawled on his stomach, he takes up your side of the bed, the comfortable weight of your leg bent over the back of his thigh. The heat of your mouth and the exquisite grip of your pussy would stay with him for days.
The peaceful glow blanketing the room hangs in contrast to the raging wind outside. The storm arrived unexpectedly before dawn and continues to rattle the windows every so often, a promise that it's far from over. 
Muscles protesting, he bunches the pillow under his arms. His eyes struggle to stay open and he sees you’re doing no better, not a lick of tension left in your body. His shoulders bulging, he rests his head on his forearms, lulled by the sensation of your slow fingers tracing the dark ink over his shoulder blade. 
He wonders what you're thinking about, he wonders if you even realize you’re doing it. Not that he minds. Not that he needed a reason to keep you in bed today. Drowsy and spent, the look on your face tells him you wouldn't be able to recall a single thing you’d carried over from yesterday’s to-do list. He likes days like this when the only thing on your mind is him. Even now, especially now, when all that exists is the delicious scent of you and he’s on the verge of dozing off and it's not even noon. He can't get enough of how fucking beautiful you are after he's fucked you. 
//
The dwindling fire dances in the corner of the room, creating shadows across the dips and valleys of his back. Coals begin to crackle but neither of you seems to care about the chill creeping back in the room. The window could be wide open right now and neither of you would even notice.
At the moment, other things occupy your mind. Lazy, your fingers continue over the smooth slope of his shoulder, repeatedly admiring the same path of black ink. 
With a languid exhale, he shifts, turning on his side, ruffling the toasty air under the quilt between you. One arm propped under his head, his other hand slipping warm underneath the blanket, hugging your hip, he settles heavy and solid beside you. 
Your eyes are drawn to the intricate pattern that spreads across his chest and curls around his biceps and disappears under the blankets. You know the significance of each piece of ink. The one on his shoulder, the one bigger than your palm is your favourite. Ever since he'd gotten it, you found yourself silently longing for something you’d never thought you’d want. But then, you’ve never done anything as reckless as being in love before. 
You've often wondered if he'd like that; to see a similar version of one of his tattoos somewhere on you, to watch him brush his fingers over it, or his mouth- tracing the pattern in the dark, knowing the shape of it from memory alone. Tender evidence of just how entwined your life with him is. 
The thought of it pulls delightfully inside your stomach.
When you look up, he’s already watching you. 
He sees the flash of eagerness in your eyes before you blink it away, he sees the cautious way you wet your bottom lip as you consider your words. He can see you’re itching to say something. 
"If I wanted something like this, would you do it for me?"
His brow flattens, his lips part and you can tell the question catches him off guard. You hear the hitch in the air but you don’t know the half of it. 
You do not know that his throat jams with adrenaline when he opens his mouth to answer you— he barely manages to swallow it down and level his voice enough to speak. He’s powerless to stop the grin that sneaks into the corner of his mouth.
‘Of course, I would.’ 
The kick of overwhelming pride in his veins is instant, a punch to his lungs. This timid little request sets off fireworks in his stomach, floods hot up his chest, flushing the roots of his scalp. Something so tangible, so primal he thinks he could reach in and touch it. He thinks if he does, it might lay him to waste. The more he visualizes you this way, the more light-headed he becomes. 
And then you weaken him further. Sweet little apples forming on your cheeks— and he gives in. Allows the sensation to shatter him.
His girl, his girl, wants ink that matches his. 
He wants to bask in it, drown himself in it. Arousal licks hot inside his stomach, tightens his cock so fast it makes him dizzy-  
Instead of on your hip, the heat of his hand is now curling around the back of your neck and his forehead collides gently with yours. Warm and solid.
He has to close his eyes, focus on you, or the muscles around his heart will squeeze right out of his chest and turn him into a puddle. His cock, painfully heavy between his legs.
Tethering himself against your warm brow, he lingers, focuses on your breath fanning down his cheek. Eventually, he comes back down again. 
You'd said you want him to do it.
You'd be wearing a part of him on your skin. Forever. 
Fuck.
How he wants it.
His lungs threaten to collapse again.
Gentle fingers squeeze the nape of your neck, spreading warmth down your spine. Nudging your forehead up, you are met with the imploring depths of his eyes carefully fixed on yours, circling your features. You watch his brows pull together, the earnestness on his face tugs at the strings around your heart.
“You would let me?” He asks.
You know exactly what he means.  Giving him the power to adorn you, stinging with needles.
To hurt you. Trust that he wouldn’t. 
Like his name hasn’t already been written on the inside of your heart since the day you met.
Your hand curves along the scruffy edge of his jaw, reaching further, tangling in his hair. Tipping your face up, your mouth slides between his supple lips and you answer him the only way you can.  
He melts immediately, nose pressing into your cheek, tugging you closer with a soft hungry moan. Stubble grazing, you’re lost inside the slick of his mouth, his tongue sliding deeper, reaching for yours. His hand trails down the curve of your back, his cock rigid, presses against your softness and heat swoops low in your belly. Much too soon he pulls away and you already feel his burning gaze as you struggle to pull your eyelids open.
Bloomed and dark, his eyes burn with adoration so intense it would blot out both suns.
"Where would you want it?" 
The softness in his voice makes your heart flutter. You already see the possibilities flickering in his eyes; his ink decorating you.  
Easing you back on the pillows, you barely get a chance to give his question any thought when you feel the ends of his hair tickling your jaw, his mouth ghosting over your clavicle. 
"Maybe here?" his voice lilts up at the end, satisfied at the goosebumps erupting across your skin.
He doesn't give you time to answer, instead, he grasps your hand, softly brushing his thumb over the tendons on the inside of your wrist. "Or, here."
And then it hits you and your mouth goes dry. “You’ve already thought about this.”
‘Yeah,’ he says softly, bending to slot his lips over your open mouth. ‘I have.’
His admission just about ruins you.
Ugh. This man.
Curiosity ignites inside you, in sync with an eagerness of an entirely different kind. One that charges your pulse, makes your voice weak.
‘Where would you want it?’ 
He's slow with his answer. Even slower gripping the blanket from underneath. Pulling it down, watching the satin edge slide over your skin, watching it slowly catch on your nipples. Bit by bit, exposing the soft fullness of your curves. Doesn't stop pulling until the blanket bunches around your knees. 
You watch his mouth tug into a crooked grin. 
Crowding over the side of you, he’s so long and so broad. Your skin tingles under his appreciative gaze. A warm hand trails up the side of your hip, fingertips counting ribs, so gentle it's almost ticklish. You struggle to breathe around the quivering in your stomach where your heart thuds erratically from one corner of your ribcage to the other. 
Unhurried fingers trace a slow semicircle underneath your breast.
‘I want one here,’ his head dips down, his nose following the swell of soft skin. ‘So I can see it every time I fuck you.’
Your pussy twinges, heat flaring all the way to your nipples. 
Oh.
Grasping a handful of your breast, he circles his tongue over your nipple and before you can put a single thought together, his large hand moves to your hip, squeezes, then melts into the softest of touches.  
“And I want one down here.”
You catch his gaze, blazing and dark, before his mop of messy dark hair trails down your stomach. 
He licks a hot stripe over the spot he's just identified on the inside of your hip bone, teeth nipping. Your core clenches painfully at the contact and your vision goes hazy. He is pleased with your splintered gasp, but you can think of a few other uses for that smug grin.  As though reading your mind, his open mouth finds more bare skin, hot and wet, scraping slower, pushing your legs apart. 
His voice low, possessive, ‘No one but me would ever know about them.’
The thought sends a spectacular sting of arousal around your ass and up your spine. 
Something only for him. Maker. He renders you so defenseless so fast your head spins. 
"So, what do you think?" his voice dips lower, his stubble scrapes up the inside of your thigh. "Where should we start?"
You know he just asked you a question but his thumb is toying with the seam of your pussy now and the words he just said have nothing to cling to inside your head. He’s slow about it, pressing just far enough to collect your wetness and push it up around your clit. Painting. Teasing. Dipping further each time only to pull away and bring it to his mouth. Spreading you wider so he can see how flushed and swollen you are and he hasn’t even used his mouth yet.  
“You gonna answer me?” Using his palm to pin your leg open, his mouth sinks into the inside of your thigh, teeth and all, and he hears you pull air from the beams of your ceiling.
“Tha-s not fair..” you plead.
He moans his agreement into the flesh of your other thigh. “We can finish this conversation after you cum.”
His mouth closes over your clit and your eyes roll back in your head. He doesn’t let up.
“Din-,” you gasp.
He pulls off your swollen clit and sucks the taste off his lips, watching you clench for him at the loss of contact.  
“Yeah?” 
You’re so fucking wet for him that his cock throbs, leaking between his stomach and the sheets. Bending his index finger he drags the side of his knuckle over your clit, pushing deep until he snags your entrance, holding you there. You’re already fluttering around him, so eager. With every clench, more slick leaks between his fingers. Your ragged breathing turns into the most filthy whimpers every time he laps at your clit. His other hand pries your fist from the sheet beside you, curls his fingers through yours and holds tight. Collects wetness on his tongue and leaves it on your clit again.
“You wanna cum on my mouth... or my cock.”
“Yes…” you plead, chest heaving, not sure if he even hears you. 
He doesn’t know what you’re moaning ‘yes’ to but he doesn’t care because your pussy is too fucking tempting to stop now. Two fingers buried to the knuckle, they twist and curl and he has to hold your hips from seizing and climbing off the bed when you cry out and come apart at the seams. 
He moans blissfully, mouth buried in your pussy, working you through it until your grip on his hair loosens and your thighs finally lay limp around his shoulders.  His mouth becomes patient, gently cleaning you up until you’re too sensitive to take anymore.
He crawls up to your mouth, forearms crowding you on either side, settling his weight between your legs. Your hands tug through his hair and he moans again, taking his time inside your mouth, sloppy and breathless.
Blissed out and shaky, you let him nudge you over on your side. Bringing the blanket over your bodies, he climbs up behind you like a massive wall of warmth. 
Soft kisses to your shoulder, his hand splays firm on your belly; he needs to be as close as possible, needs to fit himself between your legs, perfectly content to just keep himself there for the rest of the day if that’s all you wanted. 
He knows it’s not. 
Still keyed-up from your orgasm, the heavy length of his cock slides exquisitely through your folds, the wide ridges catch perfectly on your tender clit. He throbs hot and your eyes cloud over with a need so obscene, so sharp, it would take no effort at all to angle your hips and ease every inch of him into you. Your fingertips reach down, smearing your fingers over the blunt head of his cock and he twitches for you, leaking and hot, a broken groan shuddering within his chest behind you. The ache goes straight to your pussy.
His mouth gone dry, his hand like steel on your hip now. He holds delightfully still, right over your clit and he feels you shudder and clench, more heat spilling out around his cock. 
“Does my girl want more?”  His hand dips below the swell of your ass, he squeezes into your flesh, pulling you apart, making more room for himself, fixed on supplying you another heavenly inch of contact. You oblige and squeeze the muscles between your legs, giving him more friction and he keens for you, whimpering ‘fuck’  
He sees you bring your slippery fingers into your mouth, and he has to force his eyes shut and rein himself in, dazed at how dangerously close he is to that sweet blinding edge of oblivion. He feels you clench desperately again, knows it’s because you’re gathering more slick from his weeping cock and swallowing it down.
Pressing your ass into the base of his hips you arch your back, sliding him once more through the same path. The desperate sound he makes against the back of your neck makes you throb. 
He hums wet kisses into your neck, bringing three fingers soaked from his mouth to your nipple, rolling them over the hardened peaks. You shudder for him and grind harder into his lap, legs trembling, your nails digging into his arm.
“What d’you need, my girl?” 
Your only answer is a low whine. “I need you in me.”  
Grasping your knee from behind, he lifts your leg just enough to wedge his hips properly... ‘like this, you want me just like this’ ...and it’s effortless. He drags through your whimpers, through the haze of his own blurry desperation, burying himself into your slick heat all at once. When he reaches the hilt, you gasp high and tight, the stretch fucking divine. 
He groans through a string of filthy curses, low and needy and breathless through gritted teeth, ‘this what you want, just like this?’ A delicious ache burning deep in his stomach, he stills, waiting for you to breathe again. ‘...good girl, y-es,’ he hushes against your neck, ‘...relax for me.’
There is no more room for him to move but slowly, somehow, he still manages to rock into you, continues to gush praise into your hair, easing your leg down on his, ‘so fucking good for me,’  keeping you anchored, close and unmoving.
Your grip on his cock is intoxicating, nothing could ever come close. Buried deep in you is the only place he feels truly weightless. 
It’s a heady thing, the way you claim him, the way you light up when he walks in the door, how much you trust him, how much you care for him. It takes his breath away.  Erases every fear he’s ever had and every worry yet to come. 
Snug in your bed like this, forever is a real thing. 
//
Shielding you from the cold room, you’re both on the edge of sleep again when it occurs to him and he smiles. “You never answered my question, sweetheart.” 
You inhale with a soft contented sound, burying deeper underneath his arm.
“On my wrist.” Your drowsy slurred voice makes his heart swoon. 
“I want everyone that sees it, to know who I belong to.”
His arm tightens around your waist.
~~
TO BE CONTINUED...! HOPEFULLY :)
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thank you so much for reading! I would love to know what you think of this! if you’ve every left me a comment on anything i’ve written -please know i’ve never forgotten it xx
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Broken trust, pt.2
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Part one
Summary: Too quickly does the Darkling find his rogue Sun Summoner, but his arrogance will cost him. 
Warnings: slight fluff, angst
==========================
Faith – Y/N’s floated away from her a very long time ago, like a leaf being pulled away on the tide, and into the sea to become lost and alone, likely drowned. But she had faith in Aleksander. She always trusted him, not doubting he’d protect her. That’s why this is much more painful than it had to be.
“Running doesn't matter, I'll hunt you down if I have to.” Kirigan spoke through gritted teeth, as if he knew she could hear him, feel the palpable anger and betrayal he struggled to contain.
And still she ran. She ran without looking back, cutting through the forest with her breath caught in her throat. She ran, flinching with branches leaving cuts across her face, but she couldn’t stop. If she stopped, he’d find her and if he found her, Y/N didn’t know if they’d both walk away unharmed.
Finding a cave, she ventured inside. She sat curled up against a wall, shivering in the darkness. She clutched the kefta she wore in Little palace, clinging to his already faded scent. Just hours ago, his arms were wrapped around her, his lips claimed hers. She was his, undoubtedly in love with the very man who turned out to be the enemy.
A sob escapes her, whimpering as her hand covers her mouth to assure her silence. Risking being found because she needs to cry is stupid. Aleksander would expect her to cry.
“Where have you been?” The Grisha asks, breathless as it seems.
His presence alone commands awe, respect and his charisma can make any human stop and forget what they’re doing so long as it pleases him. He is magnetic, electric, someone you can get lost in before knowing what’s happening.
“Answer me.” He insists, lower his head to her level. His eyes narrow at her quivering lips, just then realizing she’s shaking.
“Leave us!” He orders the Grisha who came running once the light reached them outside the tent.
He taps her shoulder, the air around them turning static with contact, “What is happening?” Her shaky voice sounds and his eyes soften.
“You truly don’t know?” Raising an eyebrow, the Grisha steadies Y/N before letting her go. “My name is general Kirigan and you”, he points at her, his forehead wrinkling momentarily, “are the Sun summoner.”
A breathless chuckle escapes her, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m a map-maker.”
“No”, Kirigan raises an eyebrow. He steps closer, his hands gripping her arms gently, “You are a Grisha.”
Swallowing thickly, her eyes flood with tears. One by one, they make tracks down her cheeks, stunning Kirigan.
“You need not worry”, wiping the tears off her left cheek with his thumb, Kirigan smiles softly, “I will protect you.”
Huffing, Y/N shakes her head. “I never should have trusted him.”
Suddenly, she felt her airways constrict. Gasping for air, she clutches her chest, unable to breathe or think clearly. Darkness etched into her vision, blurring it until there was nothing left. She felt her mind drift, the last she heard was a whisper she once adored.
“I’ll carry her back.” Aleksander states, his eyes never moving from her. He didn’t expect to find her, especially not as quickly as he did, but the ring she wore lead them straight to her location. Once again, she trusted the wrong person and once again, it brought them closer together.
Upon his return, he had laid her on his bed, hoping to speak to her somewhat peacefully this time around. If she could just feel the way his heart aches for her, maybe then she’d believe him he’d never do anything to bring her harm.
Groggy, Y/N groans. Her hand moves to her forehead, rubbing her temples.
“You’re safe”, Aleksander tells her, but the sound of his voice made her open her eyes wide, sitting up so quickly her vision blurred.
“St-stay away!” She pushed herself back, hitting the headboard.
“I won’t hurt you. I saved your life." Kirigan leans in, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"How? By taking my freedom, mind and identity?" She snaps at him, her nostrils flared with frustration and anger bubbling up to the surface.
"The chains are broken now.” Kirigan sighs, “You know the truth.” Wetting his lips, his eyebrows knit together, “Are you really free?"
Shaking her head, she narrows her eyes at him, "You are still my captive, no matter how beloved you once were."
Giggling, Y/N stumbles back and into the table. A few figurines fall to the ground, but it doesn’t seem to phase Aleksander who smirks as he rests his hands at each side of the table, essentially trapping her.
Raising an eyebrow, she looks up at him, batting her eyelashes. “Are you about to ravish me, oh sweet Darkling?”
Chuckling, he cranes his neck just enough for the tip of his nose to brush hers. Hearing her inhale sharply and hold her breath, Aleksander couldn’t help but peck her lips. It felt innocent enough, something that wouldn’t scare her but would satisfy his need to feel her closer to him.
“Don’t go looking for trouble, sunshine”, his lips twitch, amused how her hands have clutched his hips, pulling him closer to her.
“Maybe I like trouble”, she whispers, breathing heavily so much so he could count each and every breath passing the lips he wished her could kiss for an eternity, uninterrupted.
Biting her lower lip, her hand rests on his left cheek, caressing the scruffy beard with her thumb. “Come on, Darkling”, she teases, “What are you afraid of?”
“You”, he responds without a second thought. His response came so quickly, catching Y/N off guard. “I’m afraid of loving you”, he exhales through his nose, his clenching under the palm of her hand before he speaks again, “Afraid of losing you.”
“Please”, crosses his lips and Y/N’s heart skips a beat. Aleksander is a man of many virtues, but begging wasn’t one of them. He’s the man who demands and makes things happen. Such men don’t strike you as someone who plead often. And this was Aleksander pleading, asking her to do something irrational, to trust him, the only thing she couldn’t do.
“What could you possibly say to make this okay?” She swallows thickly, averting her gaze as if looking at him for too long could destroy her very essence.
"They called me the Darkling as an insult. You were the only one who used it as a term of endearment." Aleksander reaches for her hand, but she pulls away once again. “Let me put your mind at peace.”
Pressing her lips, she exhales through her nose, “You made me into a weapon. I'll never find peace.”
“I didn’t make you into anything”, he remarks, “You were born as my equal, to be my other half.”
Nodding to herself, she swipes her thumb under her left eye, “I sure feel like your equal now”, glancing at him she bites the soft flesh on the inside of her bottom lip, “You can still do the right thing. I believe there is a good person inside of you. The man I fell in love with must be somewhere underneath the darkness you're flaunting. Be him.”
His eyes narrow, clouded by his own sorrow, “It's too late to go back. You can't even look at me.” Standing, with his back turned on her, Aleksander allows tears to fill his eyes, “Do you even love me?”
“Of course I still love you, but trusting you is a different question.” With a heavy sigh parting her lips, she stands too. “You can’t force me to stay with you and expect unconditional love. That’s not how this works.”
Blinking fast, Aleksander refused to look at her. All she’d see is his weakness – his feelings for her have made him soft, too easily swayed by emotions and he mustn’t reveal it.
“You can’t catch sunshine, my dearest Darkling”, she wraps her arms around his waist. Resting her right cheek on his back, between his shoulder blades, she pulled him into her embrace, “You need to let me go and find my own way.”
“You’d be dead by nightfall.” He snaps, trying to push her off but she holds onto him even tighter, silently weeping.
How can she stay when every cell inside her body is screaming for her to leave? How can she leave when every single molecule she’s made up from is aching for just one more touch?
“If you love me, you’ll have to trust me”, her voice is shaky, unsteady as she feels. “Staying will make me resent you. I need some distance, time.”
“I can’t”, he shakes his head, wiping his tears away before she can see any.
“Then I need you to remember”, her hold on him lessens.
With a frown etched on his forehead, he turns to her with a lump at the back of his throat, “Remember what?” His words rip through her like glass shards do to skin, but he can barely tell if she’s shaking because he’s started to tremble himself.
A smile breaks on her lips, just as bright as the light she once emitted to contrast his. “Remember I love you.”
And once again, without a warning, Aleksander found himself on his knees.
He didn’t love her, he desired her most of all. He desired her gaze on him as desperately as the air he needs to breath. He desired her skin against his as the food he’d need to live. He desired her lips to speak his name in ecstasy more than the water as he thirsted for her light more than anything else in this world.
And in his desire for her he had lost himself entirely. He had lost his cold exterior, becoming putty in her hands. He had lost his ruthlessness he planned to aim her way, directing it to any and all who’d harm her. He had lost his resolve to stay away, so he’d give into her with all he is.
So with that desire and the loss of him, he hated her for all of it. He hated her with burning passion. He hated her so much it consumed him.
Or so he told himself so. For in the end, he did nothing to push her away.
He couldn’t.
Not now. Not ever.
Logic demanded him to stop her, but his entire logic went out the window the day he found her in his tent, stealing his grapes. He’s no longer a part of the living anymore either. She’s become his cornerstone and no matter how hard he tried to deny it, it didn’t change. It’s become factual.
He didn’t hate her, not even a little, not at all. Aleksander Morozova, Aleksander Kirigan, The Darkling, the unforgiving general, the Black Heretic, the Shadow King – all of him loved all of her, even as she had put a knife through his heart. The very heart that beat for her was now bleeding because of her. A betrayal, he realized, the very same as she had felt when she learned of his lies.
“We will see each other again”, she croaks, her tears crashing around him.
Gasping for air, he desperately fights the pain so he can keep his eyes open longer. This might not kill him, but it will slow him down. This time around, she’ll run and as she takes off the ring, he realizes it won’t be so easy to find her again.
She kisses his lips, so softly he’s unsure if it’s a well crafted dream.
“Moya lyubov'”, he manages to say as she stands and heads to the door. He can’t speak, but he’s screaming on the inside, hoping she’d look back at him. If she does, there was hope.
Reaching for the knob, Y/N sighs, glancing over her shoulder at her Darkling with unimaginable pain tearing her apart. But sometimes you have to break in order to create something more beautiful. She knew he’d hate her for it, but she walked out the door anyway.
PART 3
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roniscloud · 3 years
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psh - love affair
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park sunghoon [f. 8516 words] love affair
so when i’m gonna know what to feel inside, baby?
maybe it’s just all in my head, so
don’t overthink, this is love
maybe it’s just a crush
baby, is this your love affair, your love affair?
synopsis: what happens when two childhood best friends make a deal to help each other’s reputations? an unforeseen circumstance prompts sunghoon to approach you, intriguing not just you but practically every other student at your college. you believe your reunion with him can only end in one of two ways: you resort back to being friends and go on with your lives, or you use each other and once you’re both done, you fall out and never talk again. how will you two navigate your companionship? is it just the nostalgia coming up? a revival of feelings? a new crush? could it possibly be actual love?
genre + tropes : fluff. comedy. the slightest angst. childhoodbestfriends!au. enemiestolovers!au. college!au. fakedating!au. 
warnings: fem reader. a little swearing. slightly suggestive themes, sorta. a few cliches. mentions of underage drinking. the american collegiate school calendar. does them geeking out over fantasy/sci-fi sagas need a warning? unknown mutual pining. they’re so helplessly clueless of their feelings. also appearances of the rest of enha plus txt.
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i. prologue
if someone told you that you would reconnect with your childhood best friend—let alone date him, you would’ve laughed in their face and told them to fuck off. park sunghoon is bad news. well, at least to you he is. one of the infamous campus playboys, you can spot him around the quad flirting with a different girl practically every day. 
but to you, he couldn’t have been anymore unlike the sunghoon you grew up with. you grew up with the sunghoon who couldn’t stand being around others, mind always focused on his own interests. you knew him as the little shy boy who would hide behind his mom whenever new people came around. the first person he opened up to was you. you can blame your mom for that. you can vaguely remember her words, something along the lines of mrs. park and i have been friends for longer than you have been alive. when we found out we were both expecting, we knew you two were destined to be besties. 
she was right. everyone thought you were two peas in a pod. wherever one of you went, the other followed. always stuck together, like true partners in crime. your close bond stuck for years. if anyone needed you, you’d most likely be found in the seats of sunghoon’s ice skating practices and competitions, cheering him on and being obnoxiously loud. likewise, he always attended your showcases, spending hours complimenting your artwork.
but then the villain of everyone’s lifetime eventually appeared. puberty. 
alas, your friendship did what anyone could predict of a couple of preteens entering high school. the usual “no matter what we’re gonna stick together!” leading to “sorry for blowing you off, got really busy,” to the imminent “what happened to us? we used to be so close,” and eventually the end of it all. senior year, the two of you attempted to leave on a good note. by that, you mean your parents made both of you apply to the same colleges to have a chance at sticking together. well, it worked, you got into the same university. funny how the universe does things.
back to present day, you’re now in your second year at hybe university. let’s just say, sunghoon isn’t the only one who went through a personality change. sunghoon traded his late night practices on the ice to one-night stands at frat parties. you, on the other hand, traded your once outgoing and fun-loving persona for a more… cold grunge meets artsy introvert. overall, let’s just say you both have reputations for not being the most approachable people. well at least you still have one thing in common.
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ii. the cafe
the busy campus cafe was roaring with study groups filling every table. the aroma of fresh coffee and tea being brewed filling the air, creating a warm atmosphere—contrast to the cold winter weather just outside the walls. the college students scattered around, just like their minds scattered as they prepare for finals. not immune to the dreaded time of year, a group of four boys enter, immediately grabbing the attention of those already nestled inside.
a quick roll call of the four known by the student body as en-4, a combination of the dance crew name enhypen and the notorious f4. lee heeseung—the campus heartthrob, captain of the dance crew, center of the basketball team, and an unknown hopeless romantic. park jongseong, although everyone calls him jay—the resident bad boy and party animal, but those close to him know that he’s actually the responsible one. sim jaeyun, otherwise referred to as jake—the friendly and flirty frat boy who you can catch playing soccer in the quad almost every day. finally, park sunghoon—the handsome heartbreaker. he doesn’t need more of an introduction.
the four of them make their way to the counter, placing their orders. of course jake doesn’t miss his chance to sound extra sweet and send a quick wink to the barista, getting elbowed by heeseung in the process. after getting their drinks, they look around to see almost no where to sit. not a single table to fit all of them was available. 
in one of the tucked away areas, sunghoon spots an empty seat at a smaller table. the only catch was there was someone sitting across from it, hunched forward over her laptop. he can’t see much of her figure but he immediately recognizes her features. it’s you. well, a more mature and grown up you, but he couldn’t forget that face for the life of him.
sunghoon’s feet drag himself across the crowded room, catching the attention from the neighboring groups he passed but sneaking away quiet enough to not alarm his own friends. the three are too caught up arguing about what to do. sunghoon can hear the faint voice of jay suggesting going somewhere else while the other two shoot him down as he walks further away. he makes his way all the way up to your side. you look up, scanning him, confused but unamused. “this seat taken?” the first words he said in a year and half to you. still not not giving him any emotion, you hesitantly shake your head once, immediately bringing your focus back to your essay.
ignoring him only works for so long, his gaze not leaving the top of your head. you can feel his stare piercing into you, finally meeting his eyes. “what’s your deal?” the irritation and bluntness in your tone is all too evident.
he shrugs and answers nonchalantly, “nothing, just go along with it.” his answer is hushed, almost as if he’s a bit embarrassed.
“what are you trying to pull here, park?”
“can i not just sit here and peacefully drink my latte? am i that disturbing to you?”
“considering that the second you started walking in this direction, everyone had their eyes on us, then yes, you are that disturbing.”
“they’re not looking at us.” he pauses before continuing with his rant, “they’re looking at you.”
“and why the hell do you think that is?”
“they’re all trying to figure out what could possibly be so interesting about you that i would choose this seat.” he says it like it’s the most obvious answer.
you scoff and turn to see the lingering stares of the others in the cafe. “well, if it isn’t the god park sunghoon being as humble as ever, gracing me with his presence and having mercy on a peasant like me.” the sarcasm dripping off your tongue like venom.
he smiles warmly at your animosity and chuckles. “i’ve always loved your sense of humor.”
“funny cause i’ve always despised yours. i’m gonna ask one more time. what do you want, park?”
he only shrugs. hesitating before responding again, “i like it here. i like talking to you. it’s familiar… comfortable.” he sees your expression change subtly. it’s only for a second before you regain the prior look. he tries to read you. he caught you off guard and his pride brings a smirk to his face. 
by now, he finally tunes back into the situation around him and can feel his phone going off in his jean pocket. he pulls out the phone to see dozens of notifications, quickly stealing a glance back up at you to see that you’re already back to typing away on the previously forgotten assignment. he laughs as he sees the boys blowing up their group chat asking what he was doing. he looks up, finding the three sitting at a cramped booth with shock and confusion written all over them.
“enjoying the attention?” your turn to break the silence. when he turns back to you, you continue, “you’re no stranger to it but you’ve always loved it.” he gives you a slow nod, turning the question back to you. you answer him, “you know that it’s not my forte.”
“and why is that? scared people will get to know the real you?”
“oh please, like you aren’t afraid of me exposing all the dirt i have on you. imagine the buzz i could create with all of your old baby pics.”
he jolts up from his relaxed position, eyebrows raised, and completely on edge, “you wouldn’t dare.”
you lean forward in your seat, elbow resting on the table, cheek resting in your palm, and chuckle, “try me.” the words leaving your mouth quickly and a smile immediately replacing it.
“you’re finally smiling at me. good to know you still have emotions.” he gets you to laugh again. you spend the next 20 minutes catching up. looks like you two kept more in common than you thought. things run smoothly between the two of you, some of your old memories and inside jokes being brought up. “why didn’t this happen sooner?”
“what, us talking? i mean, you and i stopped running in the same crowd and school got the best of us. i will admit, though, freshman year sucked without you.”
he sighs when he hears your admission. “how about this? a proposition. i’m sure you’re aware that i don’t have the best reputation.”
you cut him off, “you can say that again.”
“haha, very funny,” he throws in another sarcastic comment. “you know you’re not exactly the most approachable either. hate to be the one to break it to you but you’re pretty intimidating.” he notices the expression on your face turned into one of annoyance at his last statement, “don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true.”
you dismiss the slight jab, telling him to continue. what you don’t expect is the next four words to come out of his mouth. “go out with me.” he sees your face drop, “oh come on, stop looking at me like that.”
“so i see, a little bit of time without me and you go insane.”
“look, i don’t mean actually date me, i mean… pretend to.”
again, you stare at him like he grew another head. “you want me to fake-date you? what are we, in a k-drama now? sorry hoon, you’re attractive but i would’ve preferred hwang in-youp or song kang.”
now he’s a bit annoyed, answering cockily, “i am so much better looking than them.”
“you wish.”
his jaw drops for a few seconds and then he chuckles. “i’m serious, think about it. we go out and spend time with each other like old times. i don’t look like i’m so incapable of being in a committed relationship and you don’t look like such a loner. no offense.”
“offense taken… but i see your point.”
“see, look at you using that smart brain of yours. this would be no strings attached. just two friends helping each other out while simultaneously deceiving everyone else. i know how much you love tricking others.”
you sit quietly, weighing the pros and cons in your head. “deal.”
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iii. bro code
a few days later, sunghoon sits in his shared apartment with the boys, slumped on the couch as they eat dinner. “why are you guys so against it? i thought you wanted to see me in a relationship and now that i’m in one, you guys don’t approve. make it make sense. i should be free to date whoever i want.”
“yeah dude,” pausing to take a bite of his burger, “we get that.” jay answers, seeing how defensive his friend is getting.
jake interejects, “we respect your choices, but like… her? of all the girls that are falling at your feet, you chose her? the one that has no interest in you at all? i know you’re powerful but i don’t get how you managed to pull that off.”
“i feel like you could’ve consulted us about it first. bro code, man.” heeseung says as he shrugs his shoulders and sips on his soda.
“that’s kinda why i like her, because she isn’t all over me like the others. she’s cute and fun to hang out with. just give her a chance. honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? we go out and it doesn’t work. no harm in trying….”
that seems to do the trick as the boys lay off from the topic, going back to their own dinners and watching the latest episode of the penthouse.
later that night, sunghoon leaves their dorm to meet up with you. you agreed earlier that if you needed to meet up and talk that you’d go to the art department. perks of being an art major allows you a studio to spend your time in, secluded from the outside world. in this case, you and sunghoon don’t have to worry about nosy roommates.
when he arrives, he makes sure to take the back entrance like you mentioned. he makes his way through the deserted halls, glancing at each room he passes, and taking note of the various pieces framed along the corridor walls. he gets to the end of the building, finding a studio decorated with your name on the door. he silently enters. you don’t notice him at first with your back against the entrance and the music playing too loud through your airpods, focused on molding the clay on the pottery wheel. he grabs an empty stool, propping it beside you and taking a seat. he takes off one of your airpods, putting it in his own ear.
you finally turn your head towards him, “how long ago did you get here?”
“just now. how long were you waiting?”
you sit up, facing his direction. “i had a couple of classes today and came here to finish some stuff, been here for… what time is it?”
“um… almost 11.”
“then like four hours.”
“you’ve been working on that for four hours? what even is it, and when did you start doing pottery?” he points at the unfinished ceramic.
“not just that. i had some paintings that i needed to finish for my portfolio and those are in a separate room to dry. this,” you refer to the clay, “is just something i’m working on for fun. i got into it cause one of my profs suggested i try another medium.”
he nods along while you explain. “you can keep working on it while we talk.”
you hum in confirmation and turn back to the wheel, rewetting your wands. “so how do we make this believable? seems like people already know. word spreads quick when it comes to you.”
“we just need to act like a couple. so hanging out, going on dates, posting each other here and there, and being affectionate.”
“wow you finally found an excuse to kiss me,” you laugh as you joke with him, him following suit. “sounds reasonable, not much different from how we were as kids, just now we have to call them dates.”
“shouldn’t cause too many problems. just don’t fall in love with me, babe.”
you smile at the new nickname, “likewise, hoon.” you continue throwing the clay, molding it to your desired shape. you hyperfocus on the sculpture, tuning out the boy sitting next to you as he watches—he catches on that you still have the habit of pouting whenever you work on your art. you hunch forward, letting some of your hair fall in front of your face. too caught up, you don’t notice that sunghoon left his seat to stand behind you. he takes your locks and ties it into a messy ponytail. you snap out of your tunnel vision to ask, “why do you just have a hair tie handy?”
“i always had to carry some around for you because you always lost them. i never grew out of it, i guess.” he grins warmly, “do you remember how many times you had complained when you would get paint in your hair and i would have to clean it up for you?”
“how could i forget?” the night ends with more laughs and reminiscing on your childhood. time really does fly faster than you think.
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iv. rated pg
the bell rings as you and sunghoon enter the convenience store. you two are discussing the movie you two just watched as you walk through the aisles. 
you split up agreeing to meet back at the register. you make your way to the drinks in the back while sunghoon goes to get snacks. you grab an iced jasmine tea for yourself and an iced vanilla latte for hoon. sunghoon yells over the stands as he browses, “hey, what should i caption for my insta post?”
you respond loudly, “i don’t know, something related to movies.”
sunghoon looks at the picture on his phone: a photo of you two snuggled up in the theater, most of your face hidden in his hoodie. he types in quickly “rated pg for park’s girl <3”, hits post, and goes back to browsing. he goes to grab bento boxes, honey butter chips, candy jellies, and practically everything his eyes landed on. 
when you make it to the cashier, you see sunghoon with his arms full. “you good there, park?”
a muffled “yup” is heard behind all the food.
you look around, walking away when you find what you needed. going closer to him, “why didn’t you just grab a basket?” you start to take some things from his arms, lightening his load. 
“i… uh… didn’t think of it.” he pauses in between, an embarrassed expression adorning his face. you giggle as you take everything to be rung up, missing how his ears turned red. you catch the worker’s name on his tag, jungwon. before you can take out your wallet to pay, sunghoon’s already entering his card into the machine. you whip your head around, ready to tell him off. “nope, do not look at me like that.” you roll your eyes at him as you grab the bag with what you just bought. 
“oh come on… you can’t seriously be mad at me.” no response from you. “really? the silent treatment?” he scoffs jokingly when you cross your arms against your chest. he comes closer to bend down and wrap his arms around your waist. “it’s snacks. it’s not that big of a deal.”
you release yourself from his grasp and walk out of the store, still faking being mad. you mumble, “whatever,” under your beath but still loud enough for him to hear.
he bids jungwon a quick “have a nice night”, not missing him calling the two of you a cute couple. sunghoon meets up with you outside, already sitting on the curb of the parking lot. 
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v. pretty boy
the start of a new semester. en-4 are sitting out on the grass of the quad. surrounding them are various groups of students, typical for the buzzing campus on a crisp spring day.
“you need to cook the noodles first. end of discussion.” jake says sternly. he and heeseung are in a heated argument over the proper order of cooking ramen.
heeseung defends himself, “you are so wrong. you make the broth first to build the flavor.”
jay brings his attention up from his phone, “neither of you should be allowed anywhere near a kitchen.”
out of nowhere, a loud car horn is heard, drawing the attention of every student in the area. sunghoon looks up to find you leaning against the passenger door of your car and yelling, “hey, pretty boy! get in.” he chuckles at both the label and how bossy you sound, turning to his friends to grab his things. the three of them are stunned at him.
jake breaks first, “wait, what?”
heeseung lets go of his argument with the australian, “dude, are you seriously leaving?”
sunghoon only nods as he walks away, not letting them ask any more questions. he notices all the watching eyes and decides why not put on a show? he shouts out to you, “thought i was picking you up later, babe.” he makes sure to emphasize the nickname as his infamous smirk tells you exactly what his intentions are.
“lecture ended early, love. prof had some emergency. thought why not surprise you…” you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he reaches you and let him lay a quick peck on your cheek. “now come on, i’m taking you out on a date so either hop in or lose your chance. your choice but i don’t have that much patience so hurry up.”
“yes, ma’am,” he leans in closer and guides his hands lower from your waist. “but i’m driving,” he says as he sneakily takes your keys from your back pocket, 
“you sly fox.” he laughs at the new nickname as he opens the door, letting you sit down before closing it. he makes his way around the hood, noting that all attention is still on you two. he meets eyes with his friends again, the three looking much like the faces he saw in the cafe almost six weeks ago. as he buckles in and starts the car, you rest your hand on top of his on the gear shift. he raises his eyebrows and gives you a charming smile. “by the way, why’s your friend looking at me like that?”
he looks back up to face the boys, “which one?”
“jay. since we started doing this, he keeps looking at me weird—like weirder than the others.”
he tilts his head to the side when he realizes that jay is indeed looking in your direction, but his eyes are focused solely on you. “jay is… how should i put this? you know what i’ll tell you later. for now, tell me where to?”
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vi. jukebox
the hazy red glow of the neon lights and checkered tiled floors welcomed you as you led sunghoon into the local diner. this place was a staple in your childhood, your go-to hangout spot with the aforementioned boy when you were still in your youth. 
“i will say, this is a nice surprise.”
you look up to sunghoon as he sits across from you in the vinyl booth seat, “i knew you would love it.” you laugh with each other as you get situated, seeing a young but tall—why is he so tall? he looks like he’s only a teenager—server coming towards your table.
“hey, i’m niki and i’ll be taking care of you guys today,” the giant says cheerfully. “anything i can start you guys with?”
sunghoon looks up at the boy to take your order swiftly, “two strawberry milkshakes, please.” you watch as niki nods and walks back to the counter.
“well, well, well, park… you remembered?” you question teasingly with a cocked eyebrow.
“you’ve always had a sweet tooth. no wonder you loved me so much,” his turn to turn up the typical park sunghoon charm.
you scrunch your face in annoyance, “you should become a comedian.”
“i will never get tired of your sarcasm. it really just… keeps me going.” his way of joking back. “stay here. i’ll be right back,” he says quickly as he looks behind you and gets out of his seat.
you wait patiently for him, assuming he’s just going to the restroom. unbeknownst to you, sunghoon is making his way to the jukebox on the other side of the restaurant. he flips through the song list, finally finding the one he wants. he quickly puts in the coins and sets it in the queue. as he turns to go back to you, he sees an engraving on the side. he runs his fingers along it as he inspects the writing. property of sunghoon and y/n. he thinks back to your last day of eighth grade when you two etched the label onto the wood. he joyfully walks back to your table, ready to let you know about the memory. he sits next to you now, resting his arm behind you and around your back,
“what took you so long, park?”
right as he’s about to explain, niki comes to your table, “two strawberry milkshakes. anything else i can get you two?”
you turn your head quickly to the boy sitting next to you, seeing his eyes are already focused on yours. “um… no, i, uh, think we’re good.” you stumble and stutter a bit. you watch him as he nods his head and walks away. regaining your composure, you ask sunghoon again, “so what did take you so long?”
once again, he gets interrupted. the sound of “purpose” by justin bieber playing over the speakers makes him stop. he gives you a second to register the song, “that’s why.”
you tilt your head down and look at him quizzically, “really? this is why?” you reach to your drink, sipping on the straw as you wait for his answer.
he mirrors your movement, nodding his head in confirmation. he too drinks from the tall glass, contrary to your use of a straw, he opts to drink straight from the rim. he pulls the milkshake away, leaving some on his upper lip.
you burst into quiet laughter, turning your gaze away to not spit out your own shake.
sunghoon furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “what’s so funny?”
you turn back to him, “you got a little something there, park.” you wipe away the liquid from his face with your thumb, popping into your own mouth to clean it up.”there, all good now.”
sunghoon freezes in his spot, trying to comprehend what just happened. it’s quick but he feels something. trying to shake off the foreign feeling, he turns to face forward again. he feels you lean into him, head resting on his chest. a small grin appears on his face, humming along to the justin bieber tune still playing.
“i missed hearing you sing.”
sunghoon looks down at the crown of your head, “really? you used to always tease me about it, though.”
you shake your head with a light laugh, “i never meant it. whenever you sang, it always calmed me. i used to think… if you didn’t pursue skating, you could’ve been a singer.”
“and then what? i would bring you around on tour everywhere and sneak you in backstage?”
“that could’ve been fun.” you now laugh louder than before, him along with you.
there it is again. sunghoon’s not sure what it is, trying to suppress the odd emotion. he sits there, cuddling up to you in the booth, finishing the strawberry milkshakes, just hoping you can’t hear the way his heart starts to beat faster.
sitting at the bar, snacking on fries, and trying to not be seen by you two are heeseung, jay, and jake. they ask themselves would they really be considered sunghoon’s friends if they didn’t follow them and stake out their date.
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vii. nerds
sunghoon picked you up from the art department today. he showed up about ten minutes too early, and he got permission from your instructor to monitor your class from the back. he waited outside the door while you cleaned up, earning a few prying looks from your peers as they exited. as you drove back to his place, you agreed to have a movie marathon. 
opening the door to his dorm, you say “we are watching star wars. luke, leia, and han solo are a way better trio than three child magicians.”
sunghoon defends his choice, “first of all, they’re wizards. second, i’m offended. harry, ron, and hermione use magic with their wands. all star wars has is weird weapons and robots.”
“they’re literally in space and excuse you, but does something called—oh, i don’t know—the force ring any bells? they’re jedis, duh.” you rolls your eyes, making your annoyance clear.
sunghoon stops in the hall, “harry potter has spells and potions.”
“star wars has chewbacca.” you stand next to him with your arms crossed.
definitively and matter-of-factly, sunghoon says, “quidditch.”
“you can’t seriously believe quidditch is praiseworthy?” you look at him crazily.
“you two are such nerds.”
you both freeze, turning to see the rest of en-4 sitting in the living room. in the midst of your argument, you both failed to notice the others were home. you realize that jay was the one to stop you two. you also realize it’s the dreaded time for the best friends to finally meet the “girlfriend”. sunghoon seems to realize it as well, reaching to intertwine your hands to both sell the act to his roomates and to calm you down.
he leads you into the living room, meeting eyes with the boys. “so… guys, this is y/n, my girlfriend.”
“it’s so nice to finally meet you! i’m jake. sunghoon here has been holding out on us. i mean, come on, it’s been like two months and he still hasn’t introduced you to us.” the australian continues on with his energetic and positive ramble, asking you questions about your relationship.
heeseung butts in to tell jake to slow down. “i’m heeseung. jake’s right though, you two started dating before winter break and we’re barely meeting you now. sunghoon is always hanging out with you and telling us everything about it. honestly, all i can tell you is to run while you still can.” the others all laugh at his antics.
sunghoon scoffs, “hey, i’m not that bad.”
you excuse yourself to get a drink from the kitchen. you can hear jake spitting out more questions like rapid fire to sunghoon as you walk away. you reach into the fridge, fishing out a water bottle.
behind you, jay enters quietly. “you two are cute together.”
you flinch at his voice, “geez, dude. almost gave me a heart attack.”
he chuckles under his breath and leans against the counter, “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. i met sunghoon at freshman orientation and we immediately became friends, but i’ve never seen him like this.”
“really hoping you mean that in a good way.”
“don’t worry, it is. you know… he only has a soft spot for you. the three of us are his best friends but he only ever smiles like that with you.” he sways his head back and forth as he rambles, taking a pause between his words. “stay with him. it’ll be good for everyone.”
you smile at his approval, “you wanna know something? he actually said you would be the hardest to win over. he said something about you being super protective over your friends… yet, at the same time you trust their judgement. he told me that when he and i got together, he wasn’t scared to tell you but more worried as to if you would like me.”
he smiles with you now, “that all he said about me?” he asks while raising his eyebrows in curiosity.
“he also mentioned that you’re a good cook.”
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viii. proud
a professor of yours is holding their annual spring showcase for contemporary art. every year, a handful of students are chosen to join and display their art amongst other renowned artists. you happen to be one of the few, a top contender chosen for your abilities.
you’ve invited your friends, including en-4 to come by the studio and see your work—albeit a bit nervous for their reactions. you stand on watch by your section, greeting the patrons and waiting for the boys to arrive.
thankfully, they show up within the first hour of the gallery opening. they each show up looking professional and chic, sporting all-black fits—most likely at the hands of jay. sunghoon immediately finding you and leading the way for the rest. you welcome them in, explaining your collection, the concentration being “vulnerability.” the works are a mix of several mediums, majority being oil paint, each displaying a closeup of various people. the paintings show their bare faces, imperfections and blemishes with nothing to hide.
the night continues with more and more passing by, complimenting your collection. by the time the exhibition ends, you and sunghoon are the only ones left in the studio. he’s stayed in the same spot, eyeing one piece incredibly closely. throughout the entire showcase, he had kept going back to the one canvas. you join his side, linking your arm with his. “this one is my favorite,” you hear him say.
you look up to meet his eyes, “why this one?”
“because…  it’s you.” you takes your arm out and moves to stand behind you, now wrapping himself around you and resting his chin in the crook of your neck. he holds your hands in his, “i am so proud of you. times like this, i am proud to call you my best friend.” he turns his head, kissing you once on your jaw, and then pulling slightly back to kiss you again on the cheek.
you turn around, hugging him closer with your arms around his shoulders, “thank you.” you hold each other for a few minutes. when you pull away, you lock eyes. you feel your heart beating against your chest and your breathing getting faster. you snap back to reality when you feel sunghoon’s lips on yours. you’re not sure why you tangle your fingers in his hair and kiss him back or why he grabs onto your waist while backing you into the wall. he continues placing pecks on the corner of you lips, creating a trail down to your neck. when you let out a sigh and say his name, he stops. there he stands, a few feet in front of you, awkward and unsure of what to do next.
he breaks the silence, “it’s late. i should drive you back home.” he watches as you slowly nod your head. the drive back to your apartment was dead silent. you tried to occupy yourself by looking out the window.
when he drops you off, he bids you a quick goodnight. “um… text me when you get back home.” sunghoon just looks forward, muttering “ok” before leaving.
in the elevator, you look at your reflection on the metal doors. you make your way inside your place and take a seat on your bed. your mind is too busy reliving the moments with sunghoon before. you try to comprehend what you should do but find yourself too tired, instead falling asleep and missing his text.
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ix. spring break
it’s currently the middle of april and the boys have made you an honorary member of en-4. you and sunghoon have been pretending to be a couple and successfully tricking everyone for the last four months.
everyone has the week off for spring break. jay, being the generous guy he is, rented out a cabin in the mountains for the now five members of your friend group. you all rode in one car on the way up, and you totally didn’t fall asleep in the middle seat while cuddling into sunghoon’s side. 
you all decide to settle into your rooms once you arrive. “so there are four rooms, two downstairs and two upstairs.” jay pauses, looking towards you and sunghoon, “i assume that you’ll be fine sharing one.”
you immediately answer, “yeah, for sure.” you look to see sunghoon avoiding your gaze, sensing knowing looks from the others. sunghoon and you already guessed that they would make the two of you share a room and truthfully, neither of you minded. growing up together meant a lot of sleepovers and sharing beds so this was no problem.
he continues on, “great, you guys can take the master bedroom on the second floor cause it has the most space. i’ll take the room next to you, heeseung and jake can take the two down here.”
everyone agrees and sets off to their assigned rooms. you and sunghoon drop your bags onto the mattress, starting to unpack. the interior is spacious, the tall glass sliding doors allow lots of natural light to come in. the room itself is cozy, king size bed with matching bedside tables, and a big fluffy area rug. you’re too distracted to notice that sunghoon has gone outside to the balcony. he leans against the railing, taking in the scenic views and the breeze, basking in the setting rust-colored sun. when you finally realize that he’s not next to you anymore, you silently make you way onto the balcony, wrapping your arms around sunghoon from behind.
he tenses up at the sudden contact, relaxing when he realizes it’s you. there it is again, his heart is acting up like at the diner. he’s noticed it more often—the way that whenever he sees you, his heart beats differently. this weird feeling in his chest, this warmth that only shows up around you. he gets lost in his thoughts, envisioning what could become of your situation.
“what’s got you so lost?”
your voice snaps him back to reality. he turns around to face you, “uh… nothing, just thinking.”
just when you want to question him further and talk about what happened at the showcase, a knock is heard on the door. sunghoon walks away, going to open the door. both of you can feel the awkward tension when he leaves his spot. 
“hey, we’re kinda hungry so we’re gonna order some food and watch a movie downstairs,” jake informs you two when the door opens. “feel free to come down and join whenever.”
“yeah, we’ll be down in a bit,” sunghoon tells him as heeseung nods before leaving you two alone again. you both finish getting settled before heading downstairs. you gather around the couch as ponyo plays on the tv and you reach for a tray of sushi. 
the night continues, the moon sitting high amongst the stars. after the movie, dinner, and some drinking games, everyone retires to their respective rooms. you plop yourself onto the bed, tired after the day’s activities. you hear sunghoon getting something from his bag along with the rustling of some plastic. you crane your head up to see him approaching you. he sits on the edge of the bed, now with fluffy headbands and face masks in hand.
you scoot back a bit, “nope. no way you are getting me to do that.”
he laughs lightly at your antics, “oh come on… let me take care of you, at least just for tonight. please.” he gives you a pleading look with pursed lips, dragging out the “please” to show how desperate he is. 
that was the deciding point that led to a spa night. you both changed into comfier clothes, you borrowed one of his hoodies and sweatpants. sunghoon got settled in closer to you and you reached for his wrist to grab one of the elastic bands. you adjusted your position to sit on your knees, reaching up to tie his hair back. he, on the other hand, took one of the headbands to bring your hair back and away from your face. 
by the time midnight rolled around, you two were snuggled under the comforter with face masks, surrounded by junk food, and on the fourth episode of some random netflix show. as the night continues, a wave of sleep starts to overtake both of you. you help each other take off the masks and clean up, getting distracted every few minutes because one of you would start messing around. the boys had stopped by to say goodnight, catching you two in the middle of a mild pillow fight. after sending them off, you fall asleep in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth of your shared embrace. heeseung had snuck in at one point and stole a few quick pictures to tease you two with.
the dawn breaking through the sheer curtains causes you to stir in bed. you turn to see the alarm clock on the nightstand say 6:02. untangling yourself from sunghoon’s grasp, you sneak outside. you climb up to sit on the rooftop, feeling the cool chill of the dewy morning. the time alone gives you a sense of serenity.
meanwhile, sunghoon moves under the covers, confused why he can’t feel you. his eyes open and he doesn’t find a trace of you in the room. worried, he gets up and quietly searches the house, making sure to not wake the others. he goes into the backyard, seeing a shadow on the ground with an unusual shape. he looks up to find you perched on the roof, facing the opposite direction. he eventually climbs up to sit next to you. he hesitates before getting closer and putting his arm around you. you sigh as you lean into him. there you both stay, watching the sun come over the horizon in a comfortable silence.
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x. disaster averted
the following week, you all return to campus. needless to say, the break was well used—the days at the cabin mostly being spent at the lake or around the campfire. another day spent hanging out at en-4’s dorm after classes. sunghoon went out to pick up food for everyone. you are in his room, trying to cram for an upcoming test and failing miserably because the other three are all playing fifa way too loud.
while the boys are playing, the doorbell rings. jay gets up to check who it is, seeing a young girl and immediately recognizing her. he lets in yeji, sunghoon’s little sister. she casually joins the boys around the tv, catching up on whatever has been happening in their lives. sunghoon arrives back home within twenty minutes. 
“i’m back with the food,” he shouts out loud enough for everyone to hear including you behind his closed bedroom door. he places the plastic bags on the table, looking up to see another face. “yeji? what are you doing here?”
she gets up to greet her brother, giving him a hug, “it’s my spring break and i wanted to stop by.” sunghoon then realizes that his family doesn’t know about him becoming friends with you again or about your current situation. he drags her into the kitchen hurriedly, “ok so here’s the thing… you remember y/n?”
“of course! she’s like my big sister.”
his breath gets caught in his throat for a second, “yeah, don’t call her that. anyways, her and i are friends again,” he sees yeji’s eyes widen with excitement and continues with his explanation before she can cut him off, “and she’s my girlfriend.”
“what?!”
sunghoon panics and covers her mouth with his palm, “fake girlfriend!” he rushes out the whisper. “the guys don’t know that our relationship isn’t real and i’d like to keep it that way. they don’t even know that we were friends beforehand. yeji, i’m begging you to go along with it. please do this for me.” he clasps his hands together in front of him with a pleading expression.
the young girl crosses her arms in front of her and pretends to think about it, “hmm… fine.”
sunghoon blurts out a chant of “thank you’s” not knowing that his sister only agreed cause she always thought that you and sunghoon would’ve been a good couple. he tells her to help the others set the table while he goes to you. he quickly explains what’s happening and you’re just excited that you get to see yeji again. you both leave his room and you make your own way to the living room, spotting the other girl and exchanging glances.
yeji stops what she’s doing to turn and face you, “who’s this?”
you answer back casually, “y/n. i’m a friend of the boys, and you are?”
“yeji, sunghoon’s younger sister.” she says it proudly, bringing a grin to the aforementioned boy.
“oh, you’re yeji? hoon was right… you are pretty.”
she tilts her head and cocks an eyebrow, questioning you “why would he tell you about me?”
jake chimes in like it’s second nature, “i mean, why wouldn’t he tell his girlfriend about his sister?” he states like it’s so obvious. “they’ve been together since december.”
“girlfriend?” she takes a step back in false shock, “since december? why didn’t i know about this?” 
“what? i don’t seem like your brother’s type?”
“it’s not that. i’m just surprised he managed to get and keep a girlfriend. you’re like, way out of his league and he’s a loser.” one thing to know about yeji is that as much as she loves him, she will never miss a chance to tease her brother. 
with a scoff, you finally hear sunghoon join in beside you, “not gonna lie, that one hurt a little.”
“i’m so telling mom,” she says with a mischievous smirk.
you laugh at sunghoon’s shocked face and smile at the younger park, “i like you, i think we’ll get along just fine.”
“i like you, too.” she looks at sunghoon, “keep her.”
everyone laughs at the interaction as they settle in to eat. sunghoon sits to your right while yeji sits on your left, wondering how his two favorite girls learned to be such good actresses.
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xi. returning the favor
fast forward another month, the end of the semester means the dreaded finals week again. sunghoon has been, for lack of a better word, slacking on some of his classes and is now juggling to prepare for exams and revisions. couple that with yeji telling his mom about your “relationship” and her nonstop questions, all of this stress has been piled on. this all amounting to him getting sick. 
now, sunghoon being sunghoon means that he pushed everyone away and hasn’t told you about his condition. luckily for him, you’ve been cooped up in your studio trying to finish your portfolio and also prepare for your exams. unluckily for him, the boys have gotten worried and heeseung called you. 
which brings us to the present, sunghoon stuck in bed with a fever, congestion, and neglected notes. a knock on his door does nothing to help his headache but seeing your face meekly peek in makes him relax. “what are you doing here?” he asks hoarsely.
“did you really think i wouldn’t find out?”
he avoids your glare, “i didn’t want you to worry.”
“honestly i’m not upset that you’re sick, but that i had to hear it from your roommates.” you come closer to him, clearing out the scattered papers and textbooks from atop his bed. you sit on the edge, taking out some medicine and cooling packs that you picked up from the convenience store.
“you really don’t have to do this,” he twiddles his fingers in embarrassment.
you tie back his hair and place one of the packs on his forehead, “you’ve always been the one taking care of me, so i might as well return the favor.” 
you busy yourself with getting the cough medicine ready and sunghoon takes an actual look at you. he notices that you’re wearing his old skating jacket, the same one he gave you at your high school graduation. he makes more room under the covers, allowing you to come closer and lay next to him. he drapes one arm over you and holds onto the end of the jacket sleeve, “i can’t believe you kept this.”
“we stopped hanging out and we weren’t in each other’s lives for a year and a half after being together basically since birth,” you pause, a little saddened thinking back. “this was the last thing i ever got from you. it’s all i had left.”
he brings you closer, neither of you caring if you got sick. “well… now you have me again. for good.”
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xii. the party
the end of the school year has finally arrived. some seniors from the txt frat are hosting a big party to celebrate. of course, en-4 was invited—mostly thanks to heeseung being close with them. although you have made more friends and now have a more active social life, parties are still not your thing. 
yet, much to your dismay, being friends with designated party people means that you’re getting bombarded with pleas to go regardless. sunghoon took the lead on convincing you, “please, i promise that it’ll be fun.” the boys join in, their voices overlapping. sunghoon practically tackles you onto your couch while pouting and furrowing his eyebrows in desperation.
“stop looking at me like that. i can’t think properly when you do that.”
right on cue, the boys start to tease you. jay clears his throat and jake makes kissing noises, meanwhile heeseung starts singing y/n and sunghoon sitting in a tree… while you just glare at them.
“if i say i’ll go, will you all leave me alone?” 
they all shout “yes” in unison. which is how you ended up at the crowded frat house. although they had begged you to come, they practically abandon you and sunghoon when you get there. jake had yelled back to you that his friend sunoo from his econ class called them over for beer pong.
you and sunghoon find a big bean bag in the corner and stay there for a bit. he offers to get you both some drinks and leaves to the kitchen. you’re not sure how long he’s gone but you eventually get uncomfortable. you start wandering the house for some space to get some air. you find an empty room and make your way into the connected bathroom to wash your face. you take some deep breaths, then realizing that you didn’t tell sunghoon. as you’re about to step out, he enters the room.
“i figured you would want some space.”
“how’d you know where i was?”
he comes up closer to you, “in the sea of people, in this mess, in this frenzy… i will always find you. no matter what happens or who comes into my life, i always find my way back to you.”
“what the hell is that even supposed to mean, park?”
“i mean…” he stops to compose himself, “oh for fucks sake, i’m tired of this being pretend. i’m tired of being allowed to call you my girlfriend in public but not treat you like it in private. when i kissed you at the showcase, i had wanted to do that for so long, and i’ve been wanting to do even more.”
“sunghoon, look-”
“wait, i’m not done. what i’m trying to say is that i want you to be my girlfriend, for real this time—not as a joke, not as a trick. i want us to be together as an actual couple because i like you, a lot more than you could believe-”
you cut him off this time, kissing him like he did all those weeks ago. you kissed him in the way that you weren’t sure what words to say other than, “i would love to be your girlfriend.”
sunghoon shines with the biggest smile, picking you up and spinning around. when he lets you down, he incessantly leaves pecks all over your face. he holds you close, “now, how about we go enjoy the party?”
you nod and lead him hand in hand towards the door. you turn the nob, only to have the three remaining members of your friend group fall at your feet. heeseung landing on top, shouting out, “i fucking knew it!”
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