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brynn-lear · 1 month ago

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Paper Canes (Yandere!Capitano/Reader)

Chapter 3 overview: Some people bet on their lives, some bet on their death. Alice of the Hexenzirkel had to learn that in a rather unsettling way.

CW/Tags: slowburn/soft yandere themes, afab!reader, unrequited love/obsession. While this fic isn't "too dark", the reader isn't mentally stable. Please prioritize your health first, you matter.

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2

You're always unhappy around Alice.

Alice is, by every account there is to be counted for, a very whimsical woman and a non-traditional mother— someone who will certainly die unconquered. If there comes a time when there would be no naysayers to disparage her name, then it would be safe to assume you no longer reside in Teyvat. The Tsaritsa duly noted your fervent distaste for her. You've sent infertile insults on her way and turned malicious thoughts into plans once or twice, but that fiery woman is no different from a cockroach. Christening the formula, you were certain you'd molded your schedule perfectly to avoid her mischievous gaze. Alas, you were wrong, and being wrong makes you unhappy—

Unhappy to have yourself wholly examined.

"I'm glad I roped you into a tea party with me! Here I thought I was shooting in the dark when I guessed you'd take the long way back."

This encounter happened on October 20th three years ago.

The year you lost your youth.

"If you're so painfully aware of how much I do not want to be here, why go to such lengths?" You grumbled, less of a question and more of an attitude show.

Alice poured you a cup of tea. In a way, you envied her. The iridescent flecks in her crimson pupils, the silky cream hair that drapes on her shoulder… a woman of her description was worth making a monolith for. What a shame that this was not your flavor.

Capitano's honestly far more gorgeous. But the last time you told him that, he said you shouldn't tease him.

"Isn't it obvious?" She laughed awkwardly, thanking good fortune for crafting an environment wherein you'd stab her with words, not weapons. "I'm not about to let a cute lovelorn woman ruin her chances of romance, you know?"

"Romance?" You scoffed.

Before you were Granny (Y/n), you were that "attention whore" of a harbinger. Your strength lies in forming connections and throwing extravagant social events. Balls, tea parties— you name it. It's what caught the Hexenzirkel's attention in the first place. No discrimination between humble folk and high culture. You were THE woman people seek as a medium for self-expression.

Though, if you were frank to anyone who would be willing to listen, you have got to be the most secretly antisocial host that ever graced public spaces. Outside those play-pretends, you keep to yourself.

So what the hell is she talking about?

"If you were reading your life as a novel, you'd swoon!" Alice grinned. "You know, the most you'll lose is some time and energy, but the most you'll gain is a lifetime with the Captain!"

Unlikely. If you were leafing through the pages of that novel, you'd see clearly how you went from going through life with spontaneous survival tactics before diving headfirst to unplanned survivor's guilt. Not that misery was ever willingly placed in one's schedule, of course.

"Don't care." You glared. "Don't use my life as a basic framework of history to write a cheap and marketable romance. I'm not a damsel in distress."

Alice laughed behind her painted nails. "Can you even defend yourself if I chucked a glove at you?"

"Do you want a show of hands?" You raised an eyebrow, irritated. "If so, there's nothing for me to demonstrate, I'm not—"

"Strong as you used to be." Alice's smile faltered. "Because you're giving up on the greatsword, right?"

She hovered her hand above yours hesitantly, before tenderly circling your palm with her thumb.

"I see through your facade; I know that your strength is dwindling." She sighed. "You're worried that you're falling behind—"

"I am. Mine may have slowed down thanks to the boughkeeper's help and pity, but I'm still rotting. The honor of strength is one I can freely do without. I'm confident I can still obliterate you."

"Indeed." Alice's eyebrows furrowed. "But is that any excuse to allow Pulcinella to plot against your back? To let him sweep that title off your feet and give it to a child who shouldn't be in danger?"

Ah, so this is what this is about. Not your non-existent love life.

Alice wasn't harassing for the sake of shenanigans. She wanted your hold on the 11th seat to remain firm so that a child wouldn't be forced into a life of hardship.

Subjectively neglectful as she may be, she is still a mother.

"Who says I want to continue being a harbinger?"

Alice froze upon hearing that challenging remark.

"Ruffie—"

"Don't call me that." You slammed a hand on the table, making not only those resting on the top jump but Alice as well. The table cracked. "If a kid replaces me, then so be it. Why should I give a damn?!"

What kind of self-absorbed fool would grieve over an empire of dirt?

Alice didn't look at you. Instead, her unsteady gaze was on the pack of cards that nearly fell off the edge.

You picked it up and snapped.

"What? You wish to play?"

Alice cleared her throat. The smile resurfaced on her face, eager to return the momentum she once had. "S-Sure! Why don't we play a game?"

As she was about to reach for the pack, you pulled it back.

"Hmm. I don't want to," you droned. "Let's have a bet."

Alice paled slightly. "A bet?"

"Don't think I haven't heard of your tales. I know you have a penchant for making others' lives infinitely worse." You put the deck down. "So, why not strike a deal."

"I didn't invite you here to make an enemy out of you."

"It's a friendly competition." You remarked. "I believe you'll agree to my terms."

Alice shifted from her seat. "Oh, okay then, I'm listening."

"Since you so badly want me to remain as the 11th, if you win I'll do as you wish. When challenged by that child Ajax, I won't hold back and let him scamper back." You shook the box. "However, if I win…"

You paused.

After scavenging through the shelves of your mind, finding a desire for fulfillment was surprisingly a chore. That isn't to say you have the world in your palms. There was no grand wish to shock her. If anything, what you wished was simple…

"Rest assured, Tsaritsa will say yes to an upcoming babyface." You smiled outwardly. "And you have to create a potion for me in return, witch."

"A potion…?" Alice batted her eyes, and suddenly, her mood lightened. "Could it be… You want a love potion too?!"

…

The room dropped a few degrees.

"Get a grip."

"K-Kidding, kidding!!!"

"And what do you mean by too?" The words slipped past you without a second thought. As you were about to retract them, thinking yourself above mindless gossip, Alice answered:

"Capitano asked if true love potions are possible, but started chickening out because of his morals— or at least something to that effect." Alice giggled. "He was so flustered and oddly ashamed of himself, you should've seen him!"

…

No, you'd rather not. Ignorance is bliss when it comes to your old friend. Whatever excites him is his business, not yours.

…

After a few rounds of silence, you spoke up.

"Wow, Alice." You said. "You are terrible at this."

The woman was set on making Klee shine, but her grasp of Kaeya's card mechanics failed her. She forgot that his burst demands a character switch to trigger its effect— a misstep that voided her melt strategy. Kaeya's card is squandered under her shaky command. Alice was left clinging to a dying Klee and Jean, the game slipping further from her grasp.

But all is fair in love and war.

You're shit at the game too.

Sure, she might have fumbled by leaving her last Jean card unequipped, but at least she wasn't as cursed by bad luck as you were with dice rolls and card draws. Broken Rime's Echo was the only gem in a heap of trash. Simply put, you've lost Columbina and a Pyro agent card.

You're deadset on winning with a terrible hand— she's locked in on having her precious golden child as the claimer of spoils.

Alice has her daughter, while you have…

"Isn't this adorable? You have your knight in shining armor with you!"

"He's not." You rolled your eyes. He knows what he truly is, and it's certainly not "your" knight.

"I could use a couple of astrology readings to check your compatibility~"

"No. Your readings are usually not just comments, but an arm-chair doctor level diagnosis."

"Yet I'm helpful, aren't I? Perhaps I've garnered polarizing reviews, but I was still deemed a wonderful advisor."

You glared.

"I'd give you your flowers; I'm certain you have helped many sort out their… issues. But I don't need your help or perceived pity. I'm rowing life smooth sailing."

You used Capitano's burst.

Jean gracefully exited the battle with a soft murmur about Mondstadt.

"Oh no, Jean!..." Alice looked genuinely upset. "Well, you don't have to say it, I can tell you need friends. One that wouldn't inflict…what does your coworker call it? Ah, right— vicarious trauma."

Getting personal huh? What a sour loser.

You laughed a little too loud, bitter. "Vicarious trauma… That's an even bolder diagnosis."

Once people are done singing praises, anyone can see you've lost more friends to "drowning" than you have in wars.

Alice cooed. "Still, you didn't deny that you need a partner— a soulmate. So why not let the lovesick Captain in?"

…

You quietly took a sip.

It's chamomile tea. Your favorite.

Which so happens to also be Capitano's. That man has a habit of forming his own opinions only after hearing yours.

Does he think having a lot in common means you'd reciprocate his feelings too?

… Surely not, he's smarter than that.

"His goals do not align with mine. He's best suited for a woman who would settle down. If you care so much, why not recommend him to one of your lady friends?"

"Everyone in Teyvat knows who he has eyes for."

"Ugh. Stop boring me with your half-baked drivels."

"Don't you pity him, even just a little bit?" Alice's voice softened. "Considering what he's going through right now?"

You froze.

There was a time… There was a time when he almost had a family of his own. But "his" poor dau—

You shook your head.

"I don't." You insisted.

"You're adorable— and a terrible liar to boot. Did you know that you keep looking up like Celestia would strike you for lying?" Alice sighed.

Upon having that epiphany, you fixed your collar and made a loud mental note to fix that habit.

You drew a card.

…

Seelie and Fatui Conspiracy.

You held back a grin.

Columbina… was she to praise for this dumb luck?

After a few rounds, you've activated both while Alice placed Liben and healed with sweet madame.

Capitano's on the brink of death.

How typical of him. Almost nostalgic.

"You'll lose," Alice said bluntly. "You really should think Capitano over. You're just hurting him and yourself by pretending not to know his feelings…"

You droned out her ramblings. None of that matters. You'd sooner get dressed for this stupid card game than a love confession.

There it is.

The seelie had its 3rd stack.

It gave you Adeptus Temptation.

…

But you don't have enough dice so you had to tune for cryo for now.

Klee had close enough energy for a burst, but Alice decided to play safe and heal.

You laughed, smiling at her without breaking eye contact.

"I was supposed to protect her, Alice. But I chose to host parties. When she lay in the hospital for her first, second, third, the fourth surgery, waiting for me, I sent a letter instead. I made an oath to protect her but what did I do? I sent two lousy paragraphs for some agent to read. And you think I have the heart to play sweet dolly in your game of house?"

You let out a short chuckle, the type only visible when the body slightly moves. Your disbelief is palpable, and your voice cold.

"You're funny, Alice. I'll give you that." You glared. "But you're too distracted."

Neither of you mentioned her name.

Was it out of respect or shame?

Who knows.

You don't want to remember her either way.

You made the last move.

…

"I… lost?"

"Wow, really, wow I never would've guessed you'd lose." You replied dryly. "It was such a close match too, oh wow."

You shrugged. "It's honestly so disappointingly anticlimactic the way you lost. Aren't you supposed to be a master of all things immature?"

Capitano wouldn't have won if it weren't for the attack boost. The last support card buffed his damage by 3 points… You'd thank him and Columbina after this but they wouldn't understand TCG.

"You mean childlike— oh whatever, that's not the point!" Alice whined. "I demand a rematch!"

"Denied. It's time you honor our deal."

She sighed. Alice slowly knocked her forehead on the table, deflating like a pathetic balloon.

"Fine… What do you want?" Alice pouted. "Is there anything in life you could want anyway?"

Yes.

Yes, there is.

There is something intangible that you wish to grasp for yourself but slips through your fingers.

You loosened up, your harsh stare replaced with a lazy smile.

Before uttering words like a prayer before the crusade.

"From here on out, I'll officially give up on both my title as a harbinger and my greatsword."

Victory was claimed. And maybe it was wishful thinking, but someday you hoped…

"Might as well replace it with a cane."

That this tragedy will be bested by another.

With what else, but Death itself?

Today is October 20th.

It's been a full year since you've taken this conventionally unappealing form. Conventional to Dottore's goals, at least.

"You must be Granny (Y/n)!" A floating fairy approached you, both hands on her back with a curious expression. "You asked the traveler to help you shop right?"

"That's right," you feigned a weak smile. "Would you all be cute little darlings and accompany a grandma for lunch?"

They both saw an elderly woman, covered in small bandages to hide the disgusting rot. You wore a humble peach blouson dress and sandals. Picture the perfect image of an old money retired widow squandering her resources for life's simple joys.

Hook, line, sinker.

"Of course! Leave it to the Traveler and Paimon to help you!" Paimon cheered, tugging Lumine, who smiled in response.

Lumine is a sweet little lady.

Not that she's young, mind you. The lass' lifespan can't be belittled. But just as you'd let her believe you're a grandmother, you'd wrongly treat her like a granddaughter. Conventional wisdom, as Dottore would say. And convenience doesn't mean right.

Watching Lumine's eyes, though dim, feign cheerfulness made you chuckle. You have to admire the girl; her mud-splattered legs and worn-out cape surely signify adventure. She reminds you of her brother. The prince had a knack for finding trouble, too— even though you'd argue Dainsleif is worse than him.

"So, what do you want to eat?"

You smiled and pulled out a ridiculously long list. "My pearl companions just couldn't stop raving about these delightful flavors ever since they got their dentures sorted, so of course, I simply had to try them myself!"

The rest of the conversation flowed smoothly, much to your chagrin. Being a conversationalist has its perks, but you seriously wish aiding Dottore was not one of them. You admitted you don't have enough knowledge to dispense good judgment on what to spend— and Paimon dominated the recommendations with food.

To be honest, sweets no longer excite you. You're used to war rations. Desserts as a pleasure are characteristically superficial in value.

But here you are, licking Natlan's rock candy desserts like a child…

"I was wary about trekking here in Natlan. I've never seen travelers who came from this nation— thought this was a fantasy land when I was a young lass!" You feigned worry. "I've only heard that they enjoy gladiator matches."

"Yeah, kinda!" Paimon spoke. "Paimon thinks they really like to grow strong. It might just be their love language!"

Is that right?… That reminds you of someone.

Someone with an imposingly tall figure and soft ocean gaze.

"The locals might have mythologized tough love as useful trauma." You hummed, amused. "Then again, their archon is a human, not the Tsaritsa. Natlan's ingrained belief to die and be reborn so patriotically is worthy of close inspection. Perhaps I assumed we shared the same values since those are what the nation I hailed from taught."

You rarely explore, so it's not in your best interest to push your own uninformed beliefs onto another's culture when yours also has its flaws. The masses will always be influenced by dogmatic forms of traditions. This is just Natlan's vibrant flavor.

Though Lumine teetered on musing about how Lady Furina is human herself, a witness must remain a witness. Not that Arlecchino didn't report about this months ago.

"Where are you from, Granny?"

You chuckled. "Where else but Snezhnaya, dear?"

"Ooooh that makes sense!" The fairy buzzed excitedly.

Not Snezhnaya. Khaenri'ah. But they don't need to know that yet.

Lumine stared at you. You're certain she's already figured out the truth. With those eyes of yours, you'll have to push that you're a 'descendant'. Only a matter of time before she'd act on her curiosity.

"Oh, how does it make sense, pray tell?" You closed your eyes as you sipped your soda. Too sweet for your aged tastes, but manageable.

"P-Paimon didn't mean anything bad by it!"

"Well, I wasn't assuming that you were going to say a bad thing about my homeland, Paimon. That is, unless, that's what your darling head was mulling over?" You teased.

You're no stranger to the two's estranged relationship with the Fatui. It's all Tartaglia ever talked about in letters addressed to you.

The flustered guide turned to Lumine frantically. "T-Traveler, a little help please!"

Before the traveler could come up with a lousy excuse, the souring dragons had snatched your attention swiftly. The rhythm of their flight made you stare up in awe—

And bittersweet nostalgia.

"Ruffie…" You muttered.

Lumine tilted her head curiously, which snapped you out of your trance.

"W-Where was I? Ah, yes." You cleared your throat. "Natlan's views are so needlessly breathtaking. Each generous ray is no different from the golden strokes of a weathered paintbrush. Even with my poor eyesight, I can still spot the river below us, glittering like powdered azure. The nation moves and rests at once."

You sighed, feigning your happiness enough that it became the truth. "Fascinating, is it not?"

"Huh, Paimon didn't know you can be so poetic."

"One can be poetic when they describe something worth seeing. Though I wouldn't dare say it beats my homeland when I know Snezhnaya is my home." You forced a smile.

"Only a fool would swiftly divorce knowledge; you'd do well to remember that, young ones."

'You are mine in this life, and if there is another life beyond Teyvat, then you are mine in there as well.'

'Yours? Is this yet another vow of loyalty? You shouldn't utter such words carelessly, lest you'll be misunderstood. Do not chain yourself to these ruined bones.'

'… I'm afraid you are the one who misunderstands.'

'Either way, you must learn not to sacrifice so much. A bleeding heart like yours must steel his resolve to be a true Captain.'

Capitano will never forget those bold words he uttered directly in your stunned face one passionate evening. He remembers, now fondly, how hard his grip on his sword was and how white his knuckles were. You, three years ago, stood as the 11th to the 1st— yet the distance in your strength was far from outmatched. Divided only by a mere fraction.

Yet here he was, back on the scenic cliff where you and he had that conversation. Admittedly, that exchange would not have happened if the locals hadn't lent liquid courage. He'd long forgotten what the collaboration mission was, but he'd be damned if he forgot the celebration. When his expedition team grew rowdy with their shenanigans, Capitano groggily asked you to accompany him for a walk. Since you kept mostly to yourself at the time, you gladly took his hand and saw unfitting yourself out of the lively scene.

Today is October 20th.

What a day to reminisce.

Just by standing here on Tetipac Peak, he could almost hear what was from five years past. Sense it, even. Once, you brushed strands of his hair out of his eyes and gazed softly. It was as if it was only you and him- the village and his men nearby ceased existing. Just you, him, and Natlan's gorgeous views.

That simple gesture alone fattened the greedy beast inside him. One that would hastily discard morality for a mere taste.

That simple gesture alone repurposed the prison in his mind into a sanctuary.

'Gorgeous.'

'G… Gorgeous? With this tiring visage?'

That was the first and last time someone called him that.

'You've no idea how much that makes you even more enchanting. Hmm, hmm. You have beautiful blue eyes, Captain. A gaze that pierces through one's soul is a powerful asset. If I were born in your body, I'd certainly elevate my status in one way or another.'

'… A face as scarred as mine? An asset?'

'I adore your scars. Those are marks that tell a hundred tales. I'm jealous of your men who all have the privilege of seeing that face every day.'

'… Then perhaps this is a face I'd only let you see.'

'Haha! And then what? Do you intend to wear a mask or helmet often?'

'... Perhaps. I'm aware that I'm beyond repair—'

"Lord Capitano."

He blinked, turning around. Capitano shouldn't have daydreamed so deeply. It's been a while since he had failed to sense another's presence. One of his people knelt before him, despite her cool demeanor, a good captain could tell that matters plagued her mind.

"Elena. Is there something to report?"

It is far from uncommon for Elena to appear when Capitano is in his lonesome. He has specifically instructed the fatuus for this discreet duty. A trained eye may be misguided in speculating the nature of Elena's loyalty— but the truth is there's nothing beyond the usual master and servant. If masters normally instruct their servants to spy on the object of their desire, that is.

"Yes, sir," Elena spoke. "Granny (Y/– Lady Ruffiana has departed to the restaurant at the People Of The Springs, sir. She is with company."

He hummed. Before, Elena would much rather work on paperwork taller than her stature than assist a grandmother's spine. However, as his blue eyes assessed her sharply, the lines on her forehead tallied more genuine concern than before.

…

"Come… Come again?"

"She has decided to hire someone from the Adventurer's Guild to accompany her to lunch, Lord Capitano."

…

Capitano, ranked first of the Fatui Harbingers, was rendered mute.

Maybe he didn't hear that right.

"A restaurant in the People of the Springs? I believe I have heard about it... Golden Dusk, yes?" Capitano looked away.

...

"Is there something on your mind, my Lord?"

"Golden Dusk... is that not a… place for young adults to court? As a lunch... date... of sorts?" He tensed up slightly. "Why would she? And with who, Elena? I believe you are wise enough to investigate their name."

Elena blinked.

The word date in this context sounds foreign when born out of the strapping Captain's battle-weary lips. Futile as it was, she bit her tongue and made certain no comment about how weak he came across. Worse, he was completely unaware of this. Just replaying the dry despairing sound in her head felt wicked.

Besides, a date is what he first thought of? This is (Y/n) they're talking about. She could just be sizing someone up.

How whipped is he? It's a famous tourist destination. Elena swears it's as if everyone but Capitano knows that his affections for (Y/n) have been broadcast to Teyvat several times. The art of subtlety is lost to him.

… It shouldn't surprise her. Capitano is also rotting, so much worse than your case.

Capitano isn't your knight in shining armor.

He feels his bones erode, mixing with his blood like a sickening fruit juice. The vile dark and metallic liquid that frequently visits his tastebuds reminds him how little time he has.

Capitano's obsession over you is no doubt a public spectacle.

Maybe to him, he's just a loser in a tin foil.

And yet, Elena knows that no matter how much his eyes dim, those piercing blue stares still reflect your visage. Ex-eleventh to everyone but reigns as one in his heart. It's cheesy, it's cliché, it's sickeningly sweet- it's Capitano, a man desperately in love.

Elena was wrong about one thing, though. Capitano suspects you know about his feelings.

She very kindly answered. "She's with the traveler, my Lord. Ruffiana had told us that should you ask, the money you had lent her last night was for commissioning Miss Lumine."

Quickly, the tension disappeared from his shoulders. He pinched his temple. Ah, of course. Befriending Persons of Interests has always been La Ruffiana's modus operandi—

He stilled, eyebrows furrowed.

As much as Capitano loathes to acknowledge this, you are no longer a Fatui Harbinger and therefore have been stripped of that duty.

"...What for?"

Truth be told, he's unsure if he wants the answer. Receiving the straightforward assumption might be akin to seeking his ruin.

Elena looked at him with a face that asked why he was troubled by this. He shot a furtive glance over Elena's shoulder. That shy motion confirmed her suspicion.

Here he goes again. For a split second, Elena hoped his curiosity stemmed from a work-related issue rather than whatever this was.

"... To… spend time with her, sir. That's what she said when Felix asked."

Elena didn't know either; she was running on vague inferences. Before you left, you said you wished to get to know the traveler more. You've even asked Capitano's informant, Ashe, for her preferences, attitude, what she would like to eat, and more…

Shit.

In a sense, it does sound disastrously like a date, doesn't it…

"Elena."

"Yes, Lord Harbinger?"

"Move my plans for a later date, report to the Archon that I have another urgent matter at hand."

"P-Pardon?!" Elena's eyes widened. Is he serious?!

She then saw that glint in his eyes. Though only for a brief moment and an inopportune angle— there was a melancholic and faraway stare from the man who towered over her. He had his lips pursed, distraught like an abandoned puppy.

Grieving for a woman who never wanted him.

'You're the bane of my duties. But without you, my purpose seemingly lacks meaning. You make me whole, (Y/n).'

'Haha, I'm your bane huh? Drunken words sure let out sobering confessions.'

'… Is that crude joke all you've concluded from my loving words?'

'What's that?'

'… It is nothing. Forget that I have wasted a smattering of your time.'

Elena cast her gaze downwards. Better not speak of it out loud.

"Of course. Would you like assistance in—"

"Yes, please, if you would." Capitano cleared his throat. "I assume you know what to do. Let us make haste."

"Understood, Captain."

Taglist: @macaronilovingracoon, @lucienbarkbark, @meimeimeirin, @notthefib987, @meowmeowakutagawa,

@peachymonkgeh, @definitely-asexual-volcano, @brainemptynothoughts, @aenishas, @kapitankarate,

@goldenglow149, @ionkknowhattonamethis, @futuristicprincesscrown, @average-scara-fan, @sleeplessskeleton,

@pix-stuff

A/n: i had to put the author's note at the very bottom because man, once this fic is complete yall will notice how much foreshadowing have already been sprinkled since chap 1 to 3 HAHAHAH-//shot

I had to cut a few more dialogue between Lumine and (Y/n) to the next chapter since it's exceeding the average word count I set up. anyways sneak peak

hehe okay now i'll adios again, I still have to code WhoDrankIt (HSR otome game) :'))

#Capitano's So-Called Liability #yandere capitano x reader #capitano x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere capitano #fatui harbingers #dottore #columbina #capitano #genshin #genshin impact #yanderecore #yandere imagines #soft yandere

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ceilidho · 6 months ago

Note

This is in no way of hating but i want to know why do you enjoy writing noncon/rape? When I first downloaded tumblr which was couple of months ago i was surprised by the amount of noncon fics here. I eventually came to enjoy them which makes me question myself. Whenever i read a noncon fic and enjoy it i feel like im betraying women who actually went through those traumatic events. Plus I actually don't really like dark romance books? I love cod dead dove and that is mainly because i really love the characters and the authors are so talented. I rambled so much and i hope you don't get this in the wrong way i don't mean to hate AT ALL i love the stuff you write. Maybe i shouldn't think too much and let myself enjoy what im reading lol

first of all, no worries! i wasn't sure about your tone/intentions at first, but by the end i was totally fine with the question.

i actually don't mind talking about this stuff - i just sometimes avoid it on main because i prefer chatting about it privately.

second, i'm no psychologist or sociologist, so i probably won't be able to give you the most satisfactory answer, but i think there are a lot of different reasons. i can only name a few. one thing i should mention right off the bat is that rape fantasies are very normal (and this is true whether you're a survivor of SA or not) and writing/reading fiction can be a safe way to process those thoughts/feelings.

one of prevailing reasons is, of course, that many survivors of SA use noncon/dubcon literature/art as a way of processing their experiences and taking ownership of their trauma.

and look, people are going to go back and forth on this point (i've seen it all before - many people refuse to believe that engaging with noncon lit/art is helpful, and in fairness, it's NOT helpful for everyone because every person is different), but at the end of the day, if a survivor tells you "writing/reading this was helpful in my recovery" then that's that!

additionally, for many women and non-binary folk (i can only speak as a cis woman, but i'm sure this is a shared lived experience across many different people), we're also taught from a very young age to suppress our sexual desires / that being open about our sexuality is morally reprehensible and shameful. and a lot of people carry that shame for years, impacting them well into adulthood. so dubcon/noncon fantasies can be a way of being able to enjoy sexual scenarios where you don't have to be the initiator, thus taking away some of the emotional weight and shame.

plus, at the end of the day (and im sure many people will disagree with this take, it's something that i'm still figuring out myself), there is a kind of weird underlying consent implicit in dark fics. like, you might be reading a fic or novel that's ostensibly noncon, but you're also actively seeking out that literature (hopefully it's not just sprung on you - i do very much agree with tagging to the fullest extent and my lukewarm take is that I think all books, even traditionally published ones, should come with content/trigger warnings too).

there are a medley of reasons why someone might write or read dark fiction/dark romance. again, i'm just one person and i can only speak from my own experience!

i think at the end of the day, the important thing to realize is that fiction is fake, and as long as the writer appropriately tags their work and ensures that the audience is aware of what they're getting into when they start reading, they're not coercing the reader into something they aren't prepared for.

and it's totally fine if you have limits (like, you can read and enjoy dubcon, but not noncon) or can't engage with the material at all, but it's also unfair to say that it reflects someone's real life values - the same way that we don't say that the people who enjoy crime fiction must love murder.

and the last thing i want to say because this got a bit out of hand lol, is that, yes, for some people dark fiction is genuinely harmful, whether or not they're a survivor. it's not for everyone and that's completely fine and i'm aware of that, which is why i agree that you should tag as much as possible (even if you feel like you're overdoing it sometimes), but someone else's discomfort doesn't give them the right to tell you how to process your own emotions/experiences/desires/etc.

as long as no one's getting hurt, there's no issue as far as i'm concerned. and sorry but, no one's getting hurt by reading a fic or a novel unless the author didn't give proper content warnings - if you "forgot" to read the tags or read anyway DESPITE being warned, im sorry but that's life.

#this is sooo rambly but doing my best to give my perspective

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staybabblingbaby · 1 month ago

Text

Best Friend Protocol #14 (Team Meeting part)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You're Felix's childhood friend, and you and he have been planning a visit to see him for his birthday for what feels like years now. Unfortunately, SKZ is a very busy group, and the week-long vacation you'd planned for doesn't seem possible.Until Felix decides to ask his bandmates a favor...

Word Count: 2672

Notes: IT'S FINALLY HERE! ALL HAIL THE LEGENDARY FIRST WRITTEN PART OF BFP! I meant to have this out over a week ago, but it's here now! I will be attempting to get a regular chapter out here shortly to fulfil my promised 4 november chapters. Wish me luck! Huge shout out to one of my beautiful beloved betas, @brbwritingfanfic for taking the time to make sense of this damn thing lmao. I appreciate you spotting all my errors, you a real one <3 For those familiar with my archive style and curious, this is A3D2 for this chapter. It was kicking my ASS. If enough folks are interested I don't mind releasing the other attempts, but BFP is a bit divorced from the usual archive proceedings, so I'll leave that up to y'all. I actually really loved how Felix's character came through here, and i'm pretty pleased with how the dialogue turned out. My poor fiance had to sit through like 5 separate rants about how i could not roll back the details enough and kept having to scrap dialogue so it sounded less like AI attempting classical literature.

Warnings: She/Her Reader. Sort of? Polyamory negotiations. More like, the possibility is tossed out there.

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks

Additional Note: I'm always taking interaction requests. Just fyi

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part

The meeting goes something like this;

They pile into the living room of his and Seungmin’s shiny new dorm without discussion. It makes Felix both nervous and grateful. They’ve always had these meetings wherever Chris happened to be, before. It feels like an unspoken declaration of allegiance. Like they’re letting Felix take the lead, here.

The pressure is kind of getting to him already, as they all settle in. He doesn’t even know how he feels about it all himself, making a decision doesn’t seem like something he should be in charge of right now.

Still, he’s grateful. They’re being so mindful of him in this, and he kind of wants to cry about it. He feels seen, and loved. A bit too seen, maybe, but as embarrassing as it is he’s still a bit gooey inside about it.

Felix drags a beanbag over to where Hyunjin has settled on the couch, plopping down to lean against the other man’s legs. A hand automatically goes to bury itself in his hair, like an anchor against Felix’s stormy thoughts.

The grounding warmth of one of his best friends soothes Felix as Chris calls the meeting to order.

“So!” Their leader casts an inquiring gaze around the room, “Who wants to start? Where are we at right now?”

A few glances are cast Felix’s way, but he tips his head back against Hyunjin’s knees to avoid their eyes. Everyone must get the message, because no one prompts him.

Jisung is the one who eventually bites the bullet, and Felix sends a silent ‘thank you’ to his birthday buddy.

“Well, I’d like to clarify everyone’s, like, goal in this?” Jisung puts forward tentatively, “Because I’m at the point where it’s more of a ‘I’d like to get to know her’ thing than a ‘I want to date her’ thing.” he shrugs to himself, “I haven’t talked to her much yet, I just think she’s cool.”

“I’m a little bit smitten,” Changbin admits from across the room. He gives Felix an apologetic grimace, but all Felix can do is wave him off with a worried smile.

“We talked for quite a while the other day and, I dunno... We clicked? I guess? I feel like we did, anyway. I kind of want to see where that could go if we let it.”

Changbin sends an almost appealing look to Felix as he speaks, and honestly? Super awkward for Felix right now.

Because, see, Felix’s first instinct is to get super defensive and shut everything down. He doesn’t really want to be talking about this, and it scratches at something delicate and boyish in him that they’re having this discussion at all.

It’s embarrassing to know that the feelings he’s kept so close to his chest for so many years are out in the open. It feels a bit like a betrayal that this meeting is about the fact that most of his friends have feelings for the girl he’s had a crush on basically his whole life, instead of planning how to get him to stop being stupid about said crush.

It’s just... Uncomfortable. On so many levels. An ugly monster wants to tear out of Felix’s throat as he locks eyes with Changbin, but a light scratch at his scalp from Hyunjin stalls the beast.

Right. Felix reminds himself that these aren’t any old friends. These aren’t just some acquaintances he could burn bridges with, or strange men he had to protect his angel from.

No, these were his brothers, the people he’d shed blood, sweat, and tears with. The men he’d lived with, grown with, the guys who’d seen more of him than any other person in the world.

Felix finds it in himself to spare Changbin a strained smile. He means it to be reassuring, but he’s so tangled up in his thoughts right now that it’s the best he can offer. The older man seems grateful for it anyway.

He turns his gaze up to Hyunjin, the catalyst of all this, and Felix’s current rock in the storm. He tries to keep in mind how much he loves these people as he moves the conversation forward.

He has to hear them out, at least.

“Thoughts, Hyun?” Felix gently inquires.

Hyunjin briefly presses his lips together, gathering his thoughts into words.

“I’ve been pretty open in my flirtation from the start, I think.” he finally says, “So I guess I’m more surprised that anyone else is? Surprised, I mean.”

Felix has to hand him that one. For all that his ‘no flirting’ rule had been mostly a joke, it did mean that he’d expected them to flirt with her.

He wonders what makes things different now? He’d been okay with the flirting when he’d thought everyone was just joking around, has anything really changed now that he knows it’s real?

Felix sits with that thought while Minho throws his two cents in.

“I don’t think surprised is the right word,” their second eldest ponders aloud, “I’m personally more... worried about how this might work out.” He draws the words out slowly, like he’s tasting the flavor of them before he speaks.

It’s off-putting to hear Minho speak so cautiously- he’s usually so blunt with his words.

“I’m more worried about how this will affect us as a group,” Minho admits, “I mean, I like her, she’s fun, but I don’t want her if it’s going to cause issues among us.”

And the older man has a point. Anything that causes discord in a group like theirs is a disaster waiting to happen. Especially something like this, where a misstep could lead to long-term resentments and jealousies.

Felix feels pressured by the group’s regard for him all over again. One word from him, and he knows it all ends. The moment he says he can’t handle this is the moment that the rest back off. The emotions won’t fade, Felix knows, but they’d do it anyways.

Because they love him.

He loves them right back.

“I really like her,” Seungmin pipes in, face blank. His eyes cast toward the floor for a moment, before rising again to meet Felix’s. “I really like her,” He repeats, “I don’t know that I would be okay with letting go without trying.”

Felix pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods at the younger man. His head tips toward his lap while he thinks, brow furrowing as he loses himself to his tumultuous thoughts.

It helps to hear everyone’s feelings put so bluntly, Felix thinks. Having everyone’s stances laid out clearly like a map in his mind’s eye.

Han, who’s not invested but interested anyways.

Changbin, who’s probably in deeper than he’d really like to be.

Hyunjin, who’d been open about his intentions from the start.

Minho, who the fact that he’s even considering her means more than Felix thinks the man realizes. And yet, he’d give her up at the first seed of discord among the group.

It’s kind of heartwarming, when Felix thinks about how much love their second eldest had shown them with those words.

Finally, there’s Seungmin. A man whose compliments are hard earned, and whose feelings are closely guarded. A man who’d just handed Felix his heart on a silver platter, trust and love etched in every word, spoken and not.

Felix’s first instinct is still to shut them down. His clouded heart tells him to scoop up his angel and hide her away like a dragon with its hoard. To claim her as his and his alone, and feel slighted if anyone tried to contest that.

But that’s not fair. Not to his members and not to her. Not even to himself.

They’d shown him respect and care every step of the way, the least he could do is give them more than a knee-jerk reaction.

“Is it really all that complicated?” Jeongin ponders aloud.

Their maknae looks almost bored from his armchair, staring at them all. His furrowed brow gives away his worry, as does the way he allows Chris to pull him into the elder’s side with an arm around his shoulders.

“I mean, it’s up to her in the end, isn’t it?” their youngest continues, “she’s the only one that can really make a final call.”

“Could we handle that?” Felix finally speaks up. It’s a little scary having everyone’s attention snap to him like that, but this is the crux of the matter, he thinks.

“If she chooses one of us, could we handle that?” he elaborates.

A contemplative silence descends over the room. Felix kind of wishes he could peek into the member’s brains at this moment. He wants to know if they’re as worried as he is, if they’re worried about the same things he is.

Because, quite honestly, the more he thinks about it the less he really minds if they flirt with his angel.

It’s taken him this long to untangle the ugly knot of emotions in his chest, and he still can’t see all of it for what it is, but the core of it all, he thinks, is fear.

He’s afraid that, at the end of it all, he’ll be left behind. That he’ll lose two of his very best friends, his favorite people in the world, to each other.

He doesn’t think he could handle that.

It’s an unjustified fear, Felix knows. His bonds with all of these people, the seven present in the room with him and one halfway across the world, are stronger than anything. Forged in fire and elastic with time, he’s sure there’s nothing that could ever truly break them.

That doesn’t stop anxiety from creeping up his spine.

Felix lets his eyes wander around the room, landing on each of his members in turn. It’s like something in him believes that they could guide him in this, just by looking at them, the way his gaze lands heavily on each of their forms.

Hyunjin’s hand drops from his head to knead at the base of his neck, and Felix feels himself soften. A little bit of the anxiety drains from him at the comforting touch, and with it gone he can see something new under the miasma of fear and uncertainty.

It’s bright, like hope, and a bit more exciting. A giddy little thought bubbles up with it-

“What if she chose more than one of us?” Han beats him to the punch. His eyes flick between them all anxiously, looking very much like the rodent he’s nicknamed for, and when he’s met with six confused stares and Felix’s suppressed grin, he starts to babble.

“I- I mean, we’ve all shared partners before. Like, sexually, at least. I just- I mean- We’re not strangers to sharing, is all I’m tryna say!” Han explains himself.

His shoulders rise up to cherry-red ears under the weight of their stares. Minho places a calming hand on his thigh, even as he pokes holes in the other man’s claim.

“We’ve never shared romantic partners though,” He points out, annoyingly reasonable, “That’s a completely different thing.”

“I’d be willing to give it a shot,” Hyunjin shrugs when all eyes turn to him.

He was, admittedly, the last of them Felix had expected to back the idea. Hyunjin was the most romantic of them all, and the least likely to indulge one of them in sharing a partner or two.

“I love you guys, and I really like her,” Hyunjin states plainly, “I don’t see an issue with it.”

“So.. what? We try for, like, a.. polycule kinda thing if she wants?” Changbin questions. He scrunches up his face in concern at the concept, pointing out, “That feels a little unbalanced, doesn't it? Is it fair to hinge the whole thing on her?”

“It's going to hinge on her whether it's fair or not,” Jeongin interjects, “You all have crushes on her, not on eachother.”

“I just don’t know how comfortable I can be with that,” Changbin explains, “There’s one of her, and currently six of us. I don’t think it’s humanly possible for her to split her time enough for all of us, and it’s really unfair of us to expect it of her.”

“It could be a good thing, though,” Han argues, “None of us have the time to dedicate to a relationship how we should. Having more than one of us to turn to could be a good thing.”

“Okay, but you’re all forgetting something very important in this hypothetical,” Jeongin stresses the word, making pointed eye contact with his hyungs, “situation. She has to agree to it too. We can’t make a decision without her.”

Felix can't help but be proud of their youngest for reminding them of y/n’s place in all this. It’s not like they’d forgotten, but it was a good reminder anyway. It did feel a bit icky to be talking about their relationship with her like it was a foregone conclusion.

“I’m just saying!” Han proclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “It’s a possibility that we should be open to if it happens!”

Finally, Chris loudly claps to get everyone's attention and forestall any oncoming argument.

“Oh-kay!” he enthuses, “Let’s refocus. Show of hands, are we okay with everyone flirting with her if they want to?”

All hands go up, none of them opposed to anyone else shooting their shot. Felix pretends like all eyes aren’t on him as he easily raises his arm.

“Alright, next” Chris pushes on, “Do we think we can handle it if she chooses one of us?”

Hesitant murmurs sound around the room at this, but Felix has come to an understanding with himself during this meeting, so he speaks confidently when he says, “I think we’ll be okay.”

His words seem to reassure the others, and a ripple of agreement and gentle ribbing starts circling the room.

“Alright,” Chris nods to himself, interrupting the wave before they could get started with any mischief. He really does know them too well.

“And finally,” he starts, an indecipherable expression crossing his face, “show of hands, who’s alright with the poly thing if it comes to it?”

This subject is more divisive, Han, Hyujin, and Felix’s hands going up, but Minho and Changbin stay quiet with worried faces. Seungmin holds his arm out in front of him with his thumb held out sideways. When questioned, he just says he’s not sure how he feels about it yet.

“We’ll circle back on that later, then.” Chris decides, “I think that’s one of those things we need to be unanimous on.”

Agreements sound out, and the atmosphere relaxes. The evening quickly devolves into an impromptu game night, the group quickly descending upon Felix’s console games like a pack of hyenas.

Felix gets up to switch the TV over to his switch, intentions of strong-arming everyone into playing Mario Party in mind. Chris grabs him by the elbow as he walks by, nodding over to the kitchen. Felix follows him over, already unbearably fond.

“You sure you're good?” Chris asks lowly, “You've been her friend the longest, and we quite literally thought you were dating her already for a while there. They'll back off if you ask, you know.”

Felix nods, smiling softly at their leader’s care. “I'm good I promise.” he swears, “I meant it when I said I liked it when my favorite people get along.”

He turns to look through the doorway back at the living room. Despite the strange and personal nature of their conversation, jokes and laughter flow easily now. As if there was never any tension at all.

Felix can feel himself practically melt as he looks at them, a sentiment he knows their leader shares.

“It would hurt,” Felix admits, “If she chose someone else. But there’s no one I’d trust to hurt me more, y’know?”

Chris doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t really need to. He squeezes Felix’s elbow gently as the younger dives back into the chaos, and Felix knows he’s been understood.

Worm List <3 :

@thatgirlangelb , @hyeon-yi, @velvetmoonlght, @missvanjiii, @hanniemylovelyquokka, @vegetablesarefuntables, @scribblesnsketches05, @kkamismom12, @alexateurmom, @baribaaari, @tayla2351, @heart-trees, @unicornwhisperer666, @aalexyuuuhm, @stilldontknowhoiam, @brbwritingfanfic, @kaciebello, @ririzisblu

Perma Tag List <3 : @mbioooo0000

#skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fic #stray kids x reader #skz fanfic #baby writes #w.i.p fic #w.i.p #BFPSMAU

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freakassfemme · 5 months ago

Note

MWAH wishing u a speedy recovery!!!!! listen u always do my requests sm justice YOU JUST GET IT, i will always crawl back into ur askbox i am patiently waiting while kicking my feet :3

original ask YOU ARE SO SWEET! I appreciate you. here u go, i have brought you a gift <3 unfortunately my only explanation to 'getting it' is that I am always having or striving to have filthy nasty lesbian and queer interactions. or I am writing or reading about it. my sole purpose on this earth is to curate queer experiences. hope that helps <3 btw I wrote this from 6 - 9 am so bare with me wc: 2.9k warnings: metaphorically consuming each other as a form of desire, yeah I know I switched present/past tense its a bad habit of mine but I *don't care* nor do I care about consistent capitalization, I'm crazy for this woman obviously, rough sex, f/f, vagina/breast anatomy, biting, overstimulation, crying, maybe I get a little too poetic about gay sex, proof read by only me one singular time and it was mainly to see if the music fit the vibe, penetration, scissoring, I love pussy, orgasm denial x1 (?), slight size kink and worship but really that's in all my fics

see how it shines [smut] ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ

playlist: it will come back / be / abstract (psychopomp)

(yeah we r bringing hozier into this </3)

eighteen fucking hours. that's how long you'd been clocked in at the medical bay for what seemed to have been maybe the third or fourth time this week, and it was only Thursday.

the truth was, medics and doctors were dropping like flies these days, going AWOL and leaving the remaining staff to work what would need twenty sets of hands with maybe seven or eight. with the seraphites becoming more aggressive everyday, the peace in the stadium and other bases for the WLF had been short-lived, and many understandably weren't holding up well to the pressure, especially with the way the cleanup crews had been hauling back nonstop truckloads of friends and loved ones, and requests to be stationed elsewhere other than the stadium and two were immediately denied at this point.

so yeah, you were pretty fucking tired. at this point in the staffing shortage, they were having to send the folks on watch on additional rounds just to bring food to medics, on duty or at home, because they were simply too exhausted to go down to dining.

no one even acknowledged you as your blood and mud-ridden boots skidded across the concrete floors, your eyes practically closed even as you walked through crowds to get back to your dorm. the soldiers, civilians and staff alike parted like water around you, making an avoidant path and trying not too hard to look at you or the posters on the wall, outright begging people to sign up for medical classes.

you kicked the food delivery box inside of your dorm as you unlocked it, hands fumbling with your forehead pressed against the cold metal. inside, you quickly stripped out of your uniform top and boots, and crashed out on the couch.

abby herself was exhausted when she trudged into your shared living space hours after you, having just come off of a 48 hour rotation. her eyes wandered over the little trail of belongings leading to you on the couch, the boots left a few steps after the other, your button up discarded over the railing and the abandoned delivery box just a few feet from the door, which she didn't notice until she nearly slipped over it, causing a loud thump that had her wincing.

her eyes flicked to you, where she could only see the back of your head, and when she decided you weren't going to stir, she let out a sigh of relief and began stripping herself of her own uniform.

on her way over to the bathroom, she stopped next to you, taking in your splayed out form. your hair was a fucking mess, and you still had drops of (hopefully) someone else's blood across your forearms, one thrown against the back of the couch and the other hanging over the side. your pants were halfway undone, like you had tried an attempt that you decided wasn't worth the energy, and you looked pale as a ghost.

as much as abby wanted to let you sleep, wanted to let you get the rest you needed, she couldn't leave you like this. it'd been at least three days since she last saw you for more than a fleeting lunch break, and she couldn't find it in her to take care of herself and not you, especially when you had been eating away at yourself providing the undying care to strangers who wouldn't want to return it even in several lifetimes.

she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before she nodded, crouching down and grunting from the soreness of her own body as she scooped you up.

when you groaned and gave a small shove back, she hushed you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"c'mon, sweet girl, it's just me. i got you."

you hadn't put up much of a fight when abby propped you up on the sink. you leaned the back of your head against the mirror as she shimmied your pants and socks off of you, stripping your shirt and undergarments next until your cold skin was left against the glass and stainless steel, and you began to shudder. abby was quick about turning up the hot water in the shower though, allowing the steam fill the room before she helped you to your feet, letting you lean against her and whisper weak protests as you climbed into the hot shower.

instantly, you relaxed against her, and she ran her fingers through your hair, fully saturating the dirty strands as you sighed, wrapping your arms around her firm waist to steady yourself.

you stayed like that for a while, pressed against your girlfriend's tone form as you slowly collected your own strength, letting her gentle hands and soft voice lull you back from your weak state until you could help her wash you both up, even if it took a bit longer than usual.

"lean your head forward f'me, angel," abby murmured, one of her large palms warming up your spine with gentle caresses as she held a half-formed braid of your hair in the other. you obeyed quietly, letting abby tie back your now managed hair into something similar to how she usually kept hers, though she left her own loose.

when she was done, abby shifted closer behind you in the bed, her arms slipping underneath your borrowed shirt to hold you against her. she buried her face into your neck, letting you curl into her until you were turned on your side and entirely wrapped in her strong arms.

her nose nudged yours, and your eyes weakly fluttered open to meet abby's soft gaze, her seafoam eyes almost hauntingly bright against the cool illumination of the moonlit windows. it spooked you a bit, in all honesty, to have her this close to you again after so many days, days where you had considered the other possibilities in which she may come back to you.

you weren't any less unnerving to her -- she could tell you hadn't been eating nearly enough since she had been gone, and in just a few short days you already looked withered enough to drop like a limp daisy. your skin was ghostly, its usual warmth dampened from a lack of sunlight.

still, she was your girl, and you were hers, even in your worn states. and god, she had missed you.

abby's pine soap filled your nose as she pressed her lips into yours, the warm skin hesitant under your cool, cracked ones, and you accepted her gratefully, even if just for a moment it was as useless as whiskey on a winter night.

but then, of course, like any decent drink, the buzz hits.

and even though your limbs are screaming against you as you do so, your fingers curl into abby's loose hair, and you turn your head just a bit more. when you kiss back, abby's shyness, her gentleness quickly melts away, replenished by a hunger matching your own as you desperately search for more of her, pulling her against you like you hoped to swallow her whole.

your teeth crashed against her soft skin, tugging at her lip and making a slot for your tongue to force its way into her mouth. instantly, she shuddered, groaning into you in a way that you could feel the vibrations in her chest. it was like an open invitation, a warm meal laid out just for you, and you accepted it greedily.

you pulled abby on top of you by her hair, whining back when she moaned against your lips again. her own hand snaked up your body, squeezing at your thighs and hips as she fell on top of you, then pushing your oversized shirt over your chest, exposing your chest and making a clear pathway for herself. still, as starving as she was, she tried to take her time with you, wrapping her fingers around your jaw to hold you in place, and only stiffening up when you parted your legs, wrapping them around her and shoving your bare cunt against her firm stomach.

"wait," she whispered against your lips, "wait f'me, baby. let me have some."

you whine and protest as abby's strong arm holds you down by your throat, her other coming down to pin your fighting, impatient wrists to your stomach.

"baby, baby please," you're crying between broken moans as her tongue runs up your neck, stopping just so you can feel her heavy breathing against the shell of your ear when she slowly begins to work her hips against yours, the fabric of her boxers smearing your arousal across her thighs.

"fuck, baby I know," she groans, and if it wasn't for the way she gritted her teeth, you'd think she was annoyed rather than desperately holding herself together.

"abby, I --"

abby's hand on your jaw slips up some so she can shove two of her fingers in your mouth, and she lets out a stupid, desperate moan when she feels you choke around them for a second. then your eyes roll back just when she looks up, checking on her little angel, and she can't help but grunt louder, slamming her hips into your core in a way that makes you keen and your back arch, your smaller fists squeezing underneath her grip.

"god, shut up," she's practically begging as her hips rut into you. "please just, fuck, be quiet for a second, shit -"

she buries her face in your neck again, trying to satiate herself and regain some of her sanity, but your legs are now locked around her, pulling her against you in a way that has her clit brushing deliciously against the seam of her boxers. her head spins every time, and she lets out broken whines as she feels herself already tipping dangerously towards that edge as your body fights to consume her.

and god, it's torture for her, but for you, you just can't get enough. your fucking beast of a girlfriend trying so futilely to hold it together from just this stupid game of dry humping, when you're so, so willing to give her so much more.

let me have you, let me have you, you're chanting in your mind, your ankles pushing at the hem of abby's boxers.

you swallow around her fingers, and that seems to do it for her, granting you some edge as her other hand releases your wrists and flies to the side to hold herself up as her back arches against you with a loud groan.

your hands rush on to her back, your nails finding purchase just below her shoulder blades and ripping down the muscle until her fingers tear from your throat to slam against the bed and she stifles a cry by biting down on the base of your neck so hard that for a moment, you're worried she might draw blood.

"fuck," you rasp out against the pressure.

abby's shaking in your arms, moaning between the prettiest sobs as she gives in. she's pliant when your hands slip down to grab at her ass, and she lifts her hips to help you slip her boxers off, kicking them behind her.

she leans back, her blonde hair dripping onto your exposed tits. the cold water makes you shudder, and you let abby shove her bare cunt between your legs and slotting one thigh over you.

your lips fall in a open-mouthed gasp and she swears as her entrance rocks against your throbbing clit, one of her hands coming down to steady your hips and the other to hold her shirt up over her stomach so she can see the way you're making a mess of her thighs.

she stays there for a minute, brutalizing your bundle of nerves for her own pleasure. your head falls against the mattress, and you let out ridiculous whines, your hands fisting and slamming against the sheets below you, even coming up to claw at her strong thighs that kept you pinned so tightly in place.

"fuck, fuck, 's too much," you're choking out, and now it's your turn for the waterworks while abby only chuckles, laughing breathlessly as she presses down harder.

"no, no baby," she coos between her own moans, running her tongue over her teeth as she shudders. She slips her hips down some until you're fully rutting against each other again, the sheer wetness making it that much more difficult for your brain to process. "'s not, sweetheart, you can take it. i know you can baby."

you shake your head, and abby rolls her eyes, quickening her pace until your cheeks rouge and your whining grows. your hips twitch beneath her, uncontrollably bucking up to kiss her pussy again and again and again despite your pleas.

"what's wrong?" she purrs, her hand coming from your hips to run itself down from your neck, to your chest, to the back of your thigh. "thought you wanted it, thought you were begging for it, baby."

you whine again, shivering under her touch as she leans down, her mouth capturing the meat of your thigh as she rocks against you. she bites harder with each push and pull, and your tired body can't take it. it's too easy to get worked up for her like this.

"abs, ohmygod, stop, 'm gonna-"

abby's all to keen, knows exactly what you're going to say before you can even finish your sentence.

"shit, fuck, no you're not," abby grunts, ripping away from you in an instant.

your arched back hits the mattress with a full on sob, and you can feel your unsatisfied arousal leaking onto the sheets, the sickness between your thighs and on your stomach, the smell of abby, abby, abbyabbyabby until you jolt back up, letting out a small cry at the sudden impact against your clit.

she does it again and again, slapping your swollen cunt until your body is on the verge of cumming just from this. you're already so pent up, so touch-starved that you'd probably cum just from her biting you again, and she knows it, knows you're both like that right now.

your arms prop you up as one of her hands holds open your parted thighs, and her lips are consuming yours again as she growls with every spasm and whine she pulls from you. she doesn't stop until she really thinks you might burst, when you're starting to lift your hips for more instead of trying to hide away.

"god, you're filthy, baby," she groans against your mouth, and you only nod dumbly, knees shaking as you try to catch your breath. she's kneeling between your legs, ready to worship her sweet slice of heaven, ready to piece you back together.

abby's hand comes down gently this time, just the tip of her middle finger tracing over the mess between your legs until she's prodding it against your entrance so delicately that your brain nearly short-circuits.

she looks back up at you, her chest heaving from some sort of late-onset restraint and with such devotion filling her dilated eyes that you almost can't move, can't breathe. her eyes rake over you, holding every detail for an extra moment to commit it to memory, and when it's clear you're too awestruck by her, too overwhelmed by the sight of her poised in reverence, she speaks for you.

"gonna let me in, pretty girl?" abby asks, the words dripping off of her tongue like a velvety chocolate. you nod stupidly, your head bobbing in a way that's a little too eager, but she doesn't say anything about it.

instead, she hums, licking her lips as she wraps a hand around your head, pulling you so that her nose bumps against yours. abby presses her lips against yours, and one of your hands shakes as it finds its way up to grasp at her bicep. she's much more gentle this time, much more cautious as the tip of her finger begins to delve inside.

you pull away from her lips with a gasp when she intrudes, turning your face to hide it in your shoulder. you can't help but squeeze around the single digit, your knees already trembling.

"uh-uh," she tsks softly, her raspy voice echoing against your ear. she kisses your temple, and her hand slides down some to turn your face back towards her.

"let me see you," she whispers, sucking in a gasp as she pushes her finger farther into you, curving her palm to fit snugly against you.

your eyes flutter up to hers, almost shyly as you feel your ears burn and your eyes threaten to water as she holds your gaze. she nods when you do, curling her finger inside of you as she praises you, the ridges of your walls clinging to her finger so tightly that she's taking small, shallow breaths now.

"that's it," she murmurs, holding your head in place so you have to look at her. "that's my girl."

you let out a small whimper, the embarrassment running straight to your core as she begins to work her finger in and out, guiding it further each time until the base of her thumb glides over your clit. when it does, she groans, and can't help but push her hand harder against you until she's practically shoving you into the mattress and you swear you can feel her in your throat.

stars flutter around the blurry edges of the halo that is her golden hair, and the tears in your eyes begin to slip again between the way she's carving a god damn signature inside of you and how she's holding you so tightly against her.

you open your mouth, trying to speak but hopelessly interrupted by a mixed sob and moan. she chuckles softly, but it's tender and sweet, and she nods, brushing her thumb over your temple.

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

#abby anderson #smut #x reader #fanfiction #lesbian #female reader #tlou2 #tlou #ellie williams #Abigail anderson #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #f/f

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that-student-that-has-homework · 11 months ago

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Al-Haitham Headcanons 01

All SFW Here Folks! I think? There's like one bit that's kinda suggestive. If you - no you don't need to squint. It's not vulgar though. Tumblr MasterList

I think his love language is acts of service.

Al-Haitham reads a lot, if he finds something that would be useful to you, he'd likely make note of it with sources, especially if you were going to use it in a paper.

Oh you got into an argument? Someone said something you disagree with? You struggled to support your point? He found some piece of information that supports your argument? Or maybe he found something that negates the other person's? He'll bring it to you.

Perhaps you had asked a random question: you were curious or wondering about something? If he comes across useful information again, he'll bring it to you, and explain it if you need him to.

Maybe you're stressed or struggling or your body hurts in some way? He's doing research and bringing it to you.

You've got a big daunting task? He's broken it down for you, maybe even helped you delegate and even eliminate some things too

Drapes his cape over you when you're napping and cold.

Drapes his cape over you when you're cold in general.

Someone is trying to belittle you? Let it be known that Al-Haitham has no problem silencing them, and in a truly intellectual manner.

Yeah no, he has no tolerance or anyone talking trash about his beloved.

Quality Time is another love language

As we all know: Al-Haitham dislikes having a large social circle. So if he is choosing to spend time with you, outside of work (or anything else that's necessary) nonetheless, he definitely values you.

For whatever reason I feel like he's more cuddly and probably goes for hugs more?

(For anyone reading Rationality of Emotion: when you see this appear again in that fic...well I mean I was always gonna use it there...)

I imagine his physical affections are more him holding you in some way, and mostly in private, and I mean just you and him private. Initially, when Kaveh was practically watching him like a hawk to see if he could display affection, Al-Haitham is deliberately avoiding any action that Kaveh was looking for.

That being said, if you're both reading on the sofa/couch looking thing in his house, he really enjoys kinda having you nestled into him? So you've got your back against the arm rest (you have it cushioned don't worry) with your head resting on his chest and your legs across his lap. Each of you just reading and enjoying the silence.

He usually isn't wearing his sound proof earpieces when you guys are doing this.

I can also imagine him going from mostly hugging due to requests to initiating hugs himself.

Yes he has hugged you from behind before, it was a hell of a day, he's kinda overstimulated, he's got his face in your neck, and is just leaning on you a bit. Please let him rest there for a bit, even if he's kinda heavy.

As for when he does kiss you though

I think Haitham's kisses are like cute little pecks on your temples or your head, or the juncture of your neck and shoulder. I don't think they're very common either.

If it's anywhere else he's probably got ulterior motives

But that's okay because he's your husband

(yes even when it's on your pulse)

(especially when it's on your pulse)

While he is mostly private, he will absolutely state his claim if necessary

I don't think Al-Haitham is a very jealous guy

he trusts you, he understands that for the most part you know how to handle yourself (sometimes you need help when hilichurls are involved)

however he doesn't exactly trust strangers

so if someone wants to try their luck, and can't take a hint, he will absolutely be by your side, with a hand on your lower back as he excuses the two of you and guides you along

That hand of his stays there the whole way home.

if you aren't picking up on the fact that this person is trying to hit on you: I think he'd only watch for a little bit, curious if you're going to pick up on it, before appearing to help you exit (especially if you look tired)

#alhaitham #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin imagines #genshin impact fanfics

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kanagenwrites · 3 months ago

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Hey folks. My name is Kanagen (It's pronounced Ka-na-ngen. Kana is fine.), and I'm a writer. I mostly write sci-fi with a more or less sapphic bent, and I'm not shy about putting lewd content in what I write because fuck petty moralism.

I'm active in the Human Domestication Guide writing community, where apart from being an author (see below), I'm also a Loret, which means I help maintain and update the lore of the setting, help new creators with questions about it or how to fit a story into it, and so on. All of my publicly available fiction at the moment is HDG content, but I plan on working more on my own original settings and concepts in the future.

I have a patreon, where I post my current long-form project's drafts chapter by chapter, once weekly. I also occasionally talk about my writing process. I'm hoping to expand content there in the future as well.

I don't use social media very much because I remember what the internet used to be like before walled gardens and techbros ruined it. (You kids really don't know what you're missing.) Nevertheless, the life of a freelance writer rather demands I put myself out there somehow, so here I am. Ask me questions, behold the weird stuff I reblog, and try not to get too parasocial with me. I'm just a weird lady who puts words in funny shapes.

Bibliography

Long-Form Fiction

No Gods, No Masters - A revolutionary leftist copes with the subtle differences between her own idea of the perfect world and the just-a-little-off version of it the Affini offer. First novel-length work in the Tillandsia Trilogy; highly suggested you read this before The Floret in the Mirror and especially Freedom's Ember.

The Floret in the Mirror - A mystery/thriller about identity, digitization, and impossible simulated lewdness. Content warning for amnesia resulting from traumatic brain injury as part of the setup. Sequel to No Gods, No Masters.

Freedom's Ember (ongoing) - Sixty years after the Affini conquered her world, a woman clings to her independence; sixty years after being frozen for cryogenic flight from the Affini, a woman struggles to discover who she really is when freed from her father's influence. What is freedom, and what does it mean in the context of the Compact? Sequel to No Gods, No Masters and The Floret in the Mirror, conclusion of the Tillandsia Trilogy.

Sui Generis - A martian attorney living on Earth finds adjusting to life with the Affini easier than most; she was already keeping her wife as a pet before they arrived. The real question is, where's that strange jealousy coming from?

Short Fiction

Mainspring - A Terran secret agent is captured by the Affini, trapped by artist for whom his body is a canvas, and she means to make of him her magnum opus. Wind-up doll content, and probably my most commonly cited story for "this rewired my brain"-style reactions.

Reading the Leaves - A tea-obsessed barista, an affini new to humanity, and a sweet (if awkward) romance culminating in a very raunchy ending. Entry for the HDG February Fluff Fic Jam 2024.

The Fifth Fundamental Force - This story is a silly joke. It should not be taken seriously, though many inevitably do.

Aftertaste (stalled) - A former quadrillionaire and epicure who just barely avoided domestication is tracked down by an affini culinary anthropologist who wants to use his brain to reconstruct a lost flavor using his long-buried memory - he was the last human to ever taste bluefin tuna. This fic is only sporadically updated because the stars must precisely align for my brain to be in a state to write boyliker fic. Sorry, I'm just really gay, y'all.

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atzfilm · 1 year ago

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— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [1] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader (this chapter); seonghwa x reader; 10.6k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, blood drinking, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping references, emotional turmoil

You keep your head down, grip tightening as you make your way through the marketplace. Conversations are hushed, eyes warily rolling over your figure. It's enough of an irritant for you to pull your hood over your head. It's easy to spot strangers around here. Unfortunately, you are still one. Despite your relationship with Soobin, none of them have treated you as part of the community. And it’s not as if you haven’t tried. Inviting them over to your shared apartment, greeting them each time you passed by. All of it was met with blank stares, scowls curving their lips. You're sure if you strained your ears enough to listen you'd hear side comments about you; how you don't belong, how you've brought the faeries into the city. None of it is true of course, you stepping foot into town and the sudden disappearances happening at the exact same time are just coincidences.

It's what you hope, at least.

"Hiding in plain sight?"

You step into his shop, catching him placing a book lightly on the shelf. He glances at you, a soft smile on his lips. He steps around the counter and despite the now leaning stack of books in his hands, he leans around it to press a light kiss to your lips, then your forehead. It eases your anxiousness briefly, your hood slipping off your head as you lean against the counter. In moments like this it reminds you of what you’re here for, why you tolerate the silent isolation they give you. If it weren’t for Soobin you would have left town long ago.

"Think it'll keep their eyes off of me?" You murmur. He sends you a sympathetic look, enough for you to think otherwise. You sigh, pulling at loose strands. "I know I know, long shot.”

“They will learn to love you as easily as I have,” he moves back in front of the shelf, glancing at the titles before placing them in the correct spots. “I know that their words are alarming, but you moving in with me has no effect on the town disappearances. Some people just don’t find their way home,” he shrugs, watching as your eyes narrow. “It’s the truth!”

“Bin, they won’t accept me until the people are found. You know that.”

“Then we wait until they are found, y/n. Don’t worry yourself over things like this. It’ll be fine.”

You nod only to calm him down for the moment, your thoughts otherwise. From what you hear, faeries haven’t been seen around this town in decades, most targeting the large metropolitan areas rather than cities with populations in the lower thousands. Interestingly enough, despite your move from the city to here, you have yet to spot one faerie folk. Unlikely that you would. Though, you do hear the older residents speak of them.

The Fae folk are often mischievous, luring their victims into the thickened woods with soft words, tempting sounds. The Rowan trees at the edge of town are often the type of forestry that they reside in, stealing unsuspecting people from their lives. You’ve avoided the path since you’ve learned of it. Moreso now due to the vanishings. Who would have known that the tales of the past were riddled with truth? It only unsettles you more, knowing that there’s other things out there not yet discovered. But still, the information on the Fae is limited. All you’ve found is minimal, unimportant. No human has yet to figure out a way to stop them entirely – or if they are even real at all. There’s a myth that four-leaf clovers stop them in their tracks, so you see the paintings across every part of town. It has done nothing to stop the disappearances. The attempts are all in vain.

What is known is that you do not pray in circumstances like this. The ones that will listen are not who you would like to grant your wishes. You were never religious, your upbringing leaning towards a more lax nature. But even you think that you should keep the missing in your thoughts. At least enough to hope they return safely. You doubt it's the mysterious unseen faeries, but you can't help but try and aid somehow.

“How’d the interview go?” He asks, grabbing your attention.

You slowly sink into one of the seats. “Remember when you told me Ben and you were friends? And that he’d go easy on me?”

He groans. “What did he do?”

“Told me that he’s only doing this interview for you and shut the door. Loudly by the way, then I left. I’m pretty sure he lit some type of spiritual incense to get rid of my bad energy.”

“It’s not that. You know that.”

“Well, I did,” you murmur. “Not so sure anymore. It’s fine, don’t worry too much about it. I’ll get over it.” You strongly do not think you’ll get over it, but you just hope that the thoughts don’t linger in Soobin’s mind too long. He’s insisted weeks ago that the two of you move away from this town and open his bookstore somewhere else, but you’ve convinced him otherwise. The two of you aren’t even married yet nor engaged. You wouldn’t want him to pick up his whole life just because you feel slightly uncomfortable with the stares on you. Or the whispers each time you enter a room. You can handle it. You just need to let out your grievances occasionally.

“Telling me not to worry will only make me worry more, love,” he places his hands on either side of the chair you sit on, lightly nudging your forehead with his. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not going to leave you because some townsfolk are scared of a woman who made a popcorn bag catch on fire in the microwave.”

“Soobin!” You nudge him and he laughs, moving away from you and back to his tasks. “You’re such an ass.”

He rolls his eyes, continuing to stock his shelves and tend to customers. You’ve noticed that some are startled when they see you, so you decide to hide out in the back of his store, headphones over your ears to drown out the whispers of disdain and dread. Soobin scolds them each time they do it, but it only seems to drive their intentions. After a few minutes of hearing him argue you decide it’s best to no longer listen.

“It’s your turn, Seonghwa. Continuing to tuck yourself behind literature will not slow down time. Soon the others will come and find where you’ve hidden yourself.”

Seonghwa sighs as he listens to San’s words, peering over the stack of writings. Its grown since the last time San entered his room; piles upon piles of literature is littered around him, some of it very close to the entrance of the room. The others never really bothered to enter his personal space because of it, but San was just in here yesterday. How is it already crowded? Especially considering how neat Seonghwa is. “Must it be tonight? We’ve delayed it for longer.”

“We’re all hungry. You know what happens when it’s taken too far. I’d rather not clean up any of our messes again,” San points out, Seonghwa’s frown only deepening. “It’s our second to last one for this town, then we’re moving on. Too many disappearances will make the authorities search the Rowan. It’ll only cause more slaughter.”

“Then so be it,” Seonghwa says. He hides himself behind the stack once more. The sound of pages flipping fills the quiet.

“Hwa…” His voice drags now, whining, twisting each syllable. “The Seelies are on our backs."

“Fine,” Seonghwa places the book on the top of the stacks, stepping around it to meet San’s eyes. His sleepwear wraps around him, glasses resting at the edge of his nose. For a moment, he finds the sight endearing. “There’s a fair tonight to ward off faeries with their limited resources. Enough of a distraction to steal another.”

"Great!" San replies happily.

"It's a bit cold to have a festival, no?" You say, passing Soobin his bag. He thanks you, placing it on his back. "The harvest will be fine like it always is. And you're a bookstore owner, not a farmer. Ever think about not attending one?"

"It's to support everyone in the neighborhood, y/n. We know everyone, and they'll know I'm not around. Plus, it'll bring a great harvest of customers to the bookstore," He grins at your eye roll at his pun."Come and you'll see. It'll be fun."

That's the last thing you want to do. Be around people who hate you in the middle of the night around burning logs? A recipe for a disaster. "I don't know…"

"They said you wouldn't show," he adds, grabbing his hat off the coat hanger. "This will prove them wrong. Maybe it'll stop the weird rumors that are spreading for no reason? They'll see you're kind and pretty and safe, and have nothing to do with the disappearances. They'll love you like I love you."

You shouldn't care what others think. In fact you really don't care much at all. But Soobin cares deeply, and having you around the bookstore meant that you would have to care. So you give him a brave face, following him out the bookstore and twisting the lock behind you. The two of you have had prior discussions, most ending in a moot point. You care for each other more than anything – you'd give him the world if asked. And he consistently, without falter, told you that he would leave this all behind if you couldn't take it any longer. You've thought it over. If tonight doesn't somewhat boost your position in this town – you're not sure you'll be able to stand it any longer. There's only so many snide remarks one could take.

Soobin and you pass by closed shops and darkened porches, making your way to the gathering. You see the clovers painted on walls and doors, handing up along roofs and banisters. He catches your eyes, smiling.

"Think it makes the faeries go away?"

You purse your lips, "Probably not. They're more clever than we make them out to be." If they're real, you finish in your head. "It stumps me a bit how a formation of leaves would stop them in their place. They love nature don't they? Why would they hate a perfect formation of it?"

"A folktale," he shrugs. "That's why I keep it in my sign. People around here heard about a woman being saved because she had one in her pocket, so they think it'll save them when a faerie comes crawling around." He rolls his eyes. "Doubt it'll stop them."

You laugh along with him, meaningless conversation exchanged between the two of you. Eventually, you make it into the clearing. Most people you recognize already, all giving greetings to Soobin. Some even say hello to you, much to your surprise. You stand a bit away from the crowd, thanking Soobin for passing you a marshmallow and stick. You chat along with him for a while, until something from the corner of your eye bothers you. You don't look, at first, a creepy feeling crawling over your skin. Eventually, you decide it's best to get it over with than continue to feel uncomfortable.

A man across the fire shifts your attention for a moment. He holds a cup in his hand, sipping slowly as he stares into the flames. You’ve never seen him before. Strangers do often enter the fairs to enjoy a vacation away from their homes. Ordinary in itself, yet there seems to be someone odd about him. He wears a long, black overcoat despite the temperature, hair pulled back by darkened frames on his head. His eyes slowly move, almost meeting yours until you look away.

The air around you feels a bit colder.

“You’re going to break the cup if you hold it any tighter,” Soobin laughs, tilting his head to block your view. His smile slowly drops, concern in his gaze. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, just feeling a little chilly,” you murmur, moving a bit closer to the fire. Soobin pulls you into his side, giving you a chance to send a fleeting glance at the man. Unfortunately for you, he no longer stands there. And even more odd, it feels as if he's still there, watching you.

You’re not the superstitious type due to you never seeing faeries, a part of you doesn’t believe in them at all. But rarely did anyone ever come to these celebrations that didn’t live here. The way that the stranger stands out makes your insides twist. Him fading into the darkness – no human could do such a thing.

Perhaps you should have stayed home after all.

"It is a bit chilly tonight," Soobin agrees, tucking you closer underneath his arm. "The winds must be telling a story." You know he's trying to comfort you. You're not hiding whatever is bothering you at all. A bit comical that you're attempting to. You were never one to conceal your emotions, face as literal as a child's painting. "Are my reassurances that boring?" He teases.

You pull yourself from the grip of your thoughts, shaking your head. "I think I should go," voice barely louder than the buzzing of the fireflies. "I don't want you to freak, but something feels off."

"Off?" His brows furrow, glancing around. "Like?"

You're thankful that he always believes in your intuition. "Like there's something in the crowd that doesn't belong. I know it sounds stupid, and I know I'm the last person to believe in that stuff but I just feel it, you know?"

"We should leave then." He stands up, hand sliding into yours with ease. "We've hung around enough already. No need to stay longer than necessary."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to follow."

"I wouldn't let you walk back home alone."

He agrees swiftly and you're thankful for it. Soobin guides you around the crowd of people, exchanging goodbyes as you leave the gathering. Soon enough it's only the two of you leaving the woods. You walk swifter than him. sparing a glance every once in a while to make sure he's close.

“One.”

“Two…”

“Soobin, come on,” You try peeking through the mask he holds over your eyes, but he secures his hold, giggles echoing in your ear.

“Two,” you groan, though smiling.

“Three!” He pulls off the blindfold, stepping away from you. At first, you’re a bit confused, at least until you look at the counter. Your own eyes widen at the sight, looking between it and Soobin. A very unlike you squeal escapes your lips, running over the carpet and piles of books he has yet to put away. You grab the small journal, hand dragging over the ridges and markings. It’s one you’ve had your eye on for months now, hoping and praying (and saving) that no one would be able to buy it before you. Just a week ago, you complained to Soobin – very much on the verge of tears – that you saw it was sold and couldn’t handle it. He comforted you in that moment and told you that things happen for a reason. Back then, you were too distraught to notice the slight grin on his lips as he held you close. You look back at your partner.

He stands there proud, hands on his hips, chest puffed out. Without another word you stumble over the books and things laid about, throwing yourself into his arms. He laughs at the sudden push, steadying himself against the wall. Once he stabilizes himself, he holds you close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Like it?”

All you can do is nod into his chest, overcome with emotion. It might be a bit silly to other people, the way you’re reacting to a mere journal. But it means a lot to you. It’s something you’ve dreamed about holding in your hands for years, and he fulfilled your wish. You’re not sure anything else could top this. It's been a few days since the incident in the forest. Your life is as mundane as ever and you're thankful for it.

“I love you,” you whisper. “I really do love you."

“I know,” he murmurs back. “I love you more.”

“Shut up,“ you punch his chest lightly, ignoring the tears falling down your cheeks. “I can’t believe you spent so much – “

“Ah ah ah,” he presses his pointer finger against your lips, shushing you. “You’re not allowed to talk about the price. I know how you are.”

“But it’s so –“

“Beautiful, yes. It’s beautiful just like you,” he agrees, laughing at the frown on your face. His thumb wipes away your tears, “y/n, I know you’ve been trying to hide it. I know you don’t like it here. And I know you’ve been struggling with being ostracized by the townsfolk. I’ve noticed how it’s been affecting you. I’ve asked so many times if it was okay and you insisted that it is even though you feel otherwise. So, spending money on something you can enjoy is the least I can do. You’ve sacrificed a lot for me to have this bookstore. If I can make you happy, I’d do anything.”

Without another word you press your lips against his, a laugh escaping him as he holds you tight.

Seonghwa slams open the door, throwing his coat against the rack. He doesn't bother picking it up, majik floating it back to the hook. The others soon pour in, groaning at the lack of a sacrifice behind him another day more. Just as they begin to scold, Hongjoong enters first. Seeing the anger rising in Seonghwa, he tells the others to leave the room with a brief look. San looks the most worried, but Hongjoong pats him, a silent comfort. Once they’re all gone Hongjoong moves to his potions. He doesn't bother waiting for Seonghwa to speak, knowing that he would just let it brew until he explodes.

"Is it about that human again?"

Seonghwa meekly nods.

"What did you see?" He asks simply.

"A human, there was a human woman. But it wasn't like any other…" He trails off, mind lost. "I cannot explain it. But it didn't even flinch at my attempts to shift its mind. It only blinked at me, Hongjoong. I thought it might be because I haven't fed, so I tried it on another and it worked. How is that possible? Tell me.”

Hongjoong frowns, delicately balancing a glass between his fingers, “Delusions?”

“It was real!”

“Alright, no need to yell,” Hongjoong waves the steam from the glass through the air. “A human woman, you said? And you’re sure it wasn’t a Seelie teasing you?”

Seonghwa begins to pace back and forth. “There was no majik used while I was attempting to enter her head. But there was a wall, something blocking me from it. I tried to penetrate but stopped once I noticed my majik draining rapidly. No one was ever able to do anything like that to me. Never. In all honesty, I would have dragged her here to be tested but her human partner intercepted.”

“It made you out to be a fool,” Hongjoong teases, ignoring the glare he shoots at him. “It’s a human, Seonghwa. There isn’t a shield in their mind that you cannot penetrate. But it doesn’t matter now, you’ve brought the other with you, right?”

"The other…?"

"The human, Hwa. The one to feed on."

“Yes, but –”

“Then let the others feed. We can figure out this strange human later. Look in your literature if you must, but it shouldn’t be anything too odd. Perhaps it’s just an anomaly. Though it happens once a millennia, it is possible.”

“...So I shouldn’t worry?” His brows furrow, looking at his friend. Hongjoong places his glass on the side, moving closer to Seonghwa. He rests his fingers on his collarbone, slipping them beneath his cloak. Said man shivers at the touch, eyes shut. Hongjoong presses his lips against it. “Don’t distract me Joong.”

He grins into his skin, lightly pecking the skin before drawing back. “Don’t worry. After they feed, I can ask one of the others to see what’s wrong. Perhaps Wooyoung, he does enjoy mingling around humans. It might let something slip and we’ll figure out what’s going on.”

Seonghwa frowns, “He’s the last one that should go. San always has to chase after him when he does something unsightly.”

“First of all,” Wooyoung peers into the room through the crack in the door that he created several years ago (long story short: chasing after Jongho with a potion), “I am very well-behaved around humans. I haven’t done anything remotely unapproved in centuries, a millennia, even! One night out to woo the human isn’t going to cause a national tragedy.”

“Ah, do you recall Pompeii?” A voice from the hallway, Mingi probably, fading into the distance. Wooyoung glares, stepping into the room.

“That was one volcano.”

"You are a risk," Seonghwa says simply, turning back to Hongjoong. "It's fine. I’ll go. I’ll monitor and see if there is anything of concern, and I'll report back. It will be simpler that way," he glances at the pouting Wooyoung. "And much safer."

"Whatever," Hongjoong shrugs. "Not this time Wooyoung. We can't risk it. The human might already know more than we think. We have to play it safe for now."

Wooyoung frowns, "Mistake. He'll gut the human before we'll ever get the chance to meet her."

"Hey–"

"He won't," Hongjoong adds. "At least not yet. We have to convince her to come here so we can do testing. He can do it. Now let's go enjoy the feast with the others. The mood is too low around here." Seonghwa tries to catch his eyes but Hongjoong avoids them purposefully, fingers entwined with his as he drags him from the room, Wooyoung close.

Their home is rather large to house the leaders of the Unseelie. Meetings are often conducted from their parlor or garden. Maintained by the majik flowing through the air, they glide along the marble floors, vines curling around their furniture and sculptures. They can hear the music as they move closer to the others, need filling their minds. Feeding is scarce these days – humans are more wary of faeries now than ever. Balls and masquerades are rare, if ever. They've settled for one human every few weeks shared amongst them. Hongjoong encourages his friend to step forward, a sigh escaping his lips as the doors open.

The two enter the room, a disgruntled look on Seonghwa’s face, Hongjoong trailing after. The others sit in a circle as the human dances with San, twirling around in circles over and over again. Seonghwa slides in his designated seat next to Wooyoung, ignoring the grin he sends him.

“You’re tainting my good mood, Wooyoung.”

“Are you ever in a good mood? Weren’t you upset earlier that the special edition of that kit you wanted didn’t arrive yet? Before you left for that human again.”

Seonghwa widens his eyes, “It’s been over a year. They said it would ship out last week, but I never got a notification!”

“Oh woe is you,” Wooyoung teases, leaping from his seat when he sees Seonghwa’s arm rise. “Hey! You said no more flora!”

“It’s fungi this time,” Seonghwa frowns, but drops his hand. Wooyoung lets out a sigh of relief, glancing at the two dancing. The human’s feet are bloodied now, stumbling over the jagged rocks on the ground. It cries, San’s laugh in juxtaposition at the sound. The smell of blood fills the air, Wooyoung's eyes darkening at the scent. The others begin to match his expression, surrounding the human. It does not understand what's happening because of the majik. They die as happy as they live. Seelie have more morally sound ways of killing humans but it is all the same in the end. The Unseelie just like to have more fun. San pulls the human’s face close to his, breathing in its essence. The human grows paler, slowly surrounded by the eight.

The echo of a body falling to the floor surrounds them.

"Sales have gone sour," Soobin reads over the end of day report, his frown creating lines decorating his forehead "Barely hit even today. It's like everyone's forgotten we exist."

"It will get better," you say softly, nudging him with your knee. He would usually give you a reassuring smile, but he doesn't react at all, narrowing his eyes. "Bin…"

"We can't continue like this," he murmurs. "Sales just keep going lower and lower. I've been here forever and it's never been this bad. I mean… Hell, my opening day I made more sales than today. And at that time no one knew I even opened the shop. I just don't get why they're not coming around anymore."

You. It's all you. They're afraid of you.

Soobin seems to read your flattened expression, shaking his head. "It's not you."

"It's been going downhill ever since I've been around. I’m the cause of it, Soobin. We can't just ignore that."

"It's a correlation, not causation. And people came in anyway. There's no valid reason why this would be all your fault, y/n. I promise you that."

“What else could it be then, Soobin? They’ve all told you that they don’t like me. You know that they avoid me every chance they get. People see me in the shop and turn the other way. I’m the one that’s continuing to burden you, and you know it,” you rub your face. “I thought in the beginning, coming here would somehow help you, bring this shop to where we want it to be. But it seems to be the opposite. It seems like… like my presence is everything wrong about this place–”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself,” he protests. He takes a step to you but you take one back, shaking your head. He drops his outstretched hands, a sigh escaping his lips. “Then what do you suggest? If you think it’s true?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Leave? Not you, just me. To see if the sales pick up. To see what’s really going on around here.”

He slowly shakes his head, “No.”

“Soo–”

“It’s like…” he furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s like you’re ignoring everything I tell you. I’ve told you so many times that we can leave if you’re uncomfortable. That we can leave together, but you insisted on staying here. Dealing with the people. And I know you’re doing it for me y/n, I know that. But I don’t want you to be miserable, and I don’t want you to live like this. I know we’re not at the stage of being life partners yet. I know we aren’t married. But sometimes it feels like you put your feelings below mine, and I just don’t think that’s okay you know? All it does is make me feel worse, and make you feel worse. I want us to talk about things. I don’t want you to leave the neighborhood by yourself. If you’re leaving, I’m leaving. That’s how it’s going to be. We stick together.”

“Soobin…” You close your eyes. “You love it here.”

“And I can find somewhere else I love. It’s not that hard.”

You want to listen to his words. It all makes sense. But he’s dreamt of having this bookstore here forever. In all honesty, even if you had to commute to see him every other day, you would if it made him happy. You’re just not too sure if he would be able to find somewhere else he loves as much as this small town. You’ve never seen him happier, except for right now.

“It is hard, Bin.”

The breath he lets out now feels more irritated. “You’re not even trying to compromise.”

“You love it here, Soobin! I don��t want to be the person to ruin your dream because people around here hate me and are isolating you from the neighborhood–”

“Fuck, y/n,” he slams his hand on the counter. “All we’re doing is speaking in circles. You want to leave me here alone, then what? What will happen when I thrive? Will you just never come here again? What? What’s the solution, hm?”

You open your mouth, then close it. He stares at you waiting for a response, but you have nothing. What would you do if it’s successful? Would you just leave him alone, never coming back? Are you holding him back? There’s so many questions without answers but you know one thing: everyone in this neighborhood hates you. And it’s ruining his bookstore.

“Would you break up with me?” He asks softer this time.

Without question you shake your head, “No. Of course not.”

“You mean more to me than this bookstore, y/n,” he says softly, picking his words carefully. “Plans are often disrupted when we least expect it. I can love somewhere else. We can be somewhere else, anywhere. I’d move across the ocean for you without question. That’s what love is. We compromise, we make choices for us, not just one of us. I’ll be happy with you, wherever we are,” his eyes soften as they look into yours. “Do you hear me?”

You nod slowly, letting him move closer and pull you into his embrace. His touch is comforting, despite the lump in your throat.

“We kill him.”

“He’s well-liked around town. It will be noticeable,” San points out.

“Is he really that significant?”

“Enough so that people would suspect the woman.”

Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s a good thing they suspect she’s the reason. She’s upset and we use it to our advantage. Humans need comfort when something unexpected happens in their lives, much more so than us. Her mind will be more open to change. It’ll be wise to have Wooyoung enter her life then. Convince her to come with him after a few weeks of getting to know each other.”

“Wooyoung,” San raises his brow. “Out of the eight of us, you believe that the trickster would be of comfort to a human woman mourning a relationship? What happened to Seonghwa going?”

“He’s a bit preoccupied with affairs from the Seelie. And what’s wrong with Woo? He’s silly, no?” Hongjoong says. “Humans enjoy humor.”

“I doubt she would enjoy it. His silliness is not in line with a human’s. We are Unseelie for a reason.”

“He’s your mate and yet you doubt him.”

“He’s our mate so you should doubt him in this case as well.”

Hongjoong pauses for a moment, thinking. Though he does not know of you as well as the others – they’ve researched your every move since you’ve stepped foot into existence – San has a bit of knowledge when it comes to humans. Hongjoong doesn’t often meander around the outside world. And his duties prevent him from doing so anyway. “Would Seonghwa suffice? We’ll just wait until he comes back?”

San deadpans, only causing Hongjoong to sigh.

“Well I know you hate being around humans, so who else do you suggest?”

There’s a knock on the door, before it hits the wall completely. The two of them turn. Yunho holds Wooyoung by his collar, the younger glaring at him before looking at the two in the room. His grin widens when he meets San’s eyes, a sigh escaping the latter.

“What have you done?” Is all that San utters.

Yunho speaks for him. “Perhaps Wooyoung was the best choice, since he broke orders and went to see her first.” Yunho lets go of him, stepping to the side. “Mingi caught him in the act before anything else could happen. We’ll have to produce another plan.”

“What did he do?” Hongjoong frowns.

“Perhaps,” Wooyoung slowly walks around the room. “I made the decision for us. He will no longer be a problem.” Yunho glares at the shorter man as he meanders around the tables, touching things he absolutely should not be handling. It takes a moment for Hongjoong to realize exactly what he means by his shallow words, a laugh escaping his throat.

“You killed him?”

He shrugs, “It was an issue that needed to be solved quickly. We can decide how to move forward now that the human is dead.”

“Does she know he is dead?”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “Of course not!”

“Joong, you should be more angry about this,” Yunho interrupts the conversation. “He blatantly went against our orders and did something that we were forbidden to do without knowledge. He should be punished.”

Despite Hongjoong’s leader position, he’s had a soft spot for Wooyoung since they’ve known each other. Since this Spark began. He was the last to be bound with the others, only making the leader more protective of him. Thus, spoiling him much more so in comparison to the others. It hasn’t truly been a problem. But in instances like this, when they’re so close to human affairs, they need to be more careful. So, despite his softened heart when he gazes at Wooyoung, Yunho is right. Hongjoong had to make an example.

“No stepping foot onto human land until I say.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened, beginning to protest until he saw how serious Hongjoong looked. He meekly nodded, shooting Yunho a quick glare before exiting the room. Just as the door closes, Hongjoong rubs his forehead, thinking.

San stands in the same spot, glancing between the two. “Was it bloody?”

“Better to not describe it,” Yunho murmurs. “Mingi is there now. He’ll fix it.”

“Great,” Hongjoong sighs. “Well, now we have to conjure up something else.”

–

Days prior

The door creaks as you slowly open it, the smell of wet plywood and a distinct musk of cotton balls fills the home. Your eyes roam over the broken furniture, smashed television and endless amounts of shattered glass across the floor. You hold your breath, stepping into the empty spaces as you make your way around. Soobin is one of the kindest men you know; it’s almost comical to see everything destroyed. He valued everything that was broken. You just can’t wrap your head around the fact that he ruined it all. Because of a silly disagreement? You’ve had plenty of those. Why is this time different from the rest?

It seemed like it was solved that day. But the pressure between you two escalated. Each time the topic was brought up, he’d get angrier. Hated your explanations for wanting to go, and didn’t like the option of you wanting to stay. Nothing the two of you came up with satisfied the other, so it just climaxed into curt greetings in the morning, silent conversations in the evening. But you didn’t think it was this bad. This terrible, for him to leave your shared apartment like this.

Between the destruction, you spot a letter crumbled up on the floor. It takes everything within you to pick it up and see what it says. His words are scrawled, almost unrecognizable. As if he wrote it in a hurry. But it’s as clear as day.

I’m done.

Your eyes begin to shake, fingers gripping the paper so tightly it begins to rip. Without another word you take out your phone, dialing his number over and over again. It sends you to voicemail immediately – until at some point it says the line has been disconnected. He blocked you? He destroyed your shared home, your things, left a crumpled-up letter on the floor and then blocked you?

“Fuck,” you drop to your knees, staring at the disaster around you. You reach for your phone, immediately dialing the non-emergency line to report it. As the operator explains the steps for you to take, your own thoughts making her voice fade. So many questions rattled in your head, one stamped in the front of your mind.

What will you do now?

Now

Mingi rests on the branch, wings tucked to his sides as he observes your home another day in a row. From where he sits, he can see how anxiety ridden you are; cabinets opening and closing, drawers overflowing with clothing, tears staining your cheeks as you try to clean the mess. The others told him that humans felt emotions differently than fae. That they mourn for months on end, possibly years. It's not something he can quite understand, but he empathizes. At least he thinks he does. His head tilts as he watches you. He surely hopes you will forget the human sooner rather than later. Hongjoong promised he wouldn't attempt to coax your mind to fall for their charms. Insisted that you'd do it on your own. But this destruction, it makes him worry.

Not for himself, of course. He feels nothing for you. What he worries about is his spark. About how much they care about you. So even if Hongjoong promised he'd never bind you to them with a spell… well.

Mingi never gave such a promise.

It’s true; he didn't like you. He didn't like that you were in his family's life without even knowing it yet. He didn't like that you were making his spark so happy. How could a human who barely interacted with them have such a pull? It makes no sense entirely. But what else would he be able to do? Coax you into leaving? The others would be angry with him, furious even. The thought of binding you to them immediately vanishes the more he thinks about it. Humans being involved with faeries only lead to bad outcomes. He wouldn’t dare make that certain with a spell.

He knew that humans felt emotions differently than fae. He knew that you were still grieving the loss of you and your partner’s relationship despite it being weeks ago. But he didn't care. He watched as you paced back and forth, your hands shaking as you swept the floor. He watched as you cried, your tears staining your cheeks. He watched as you tried to clean your destroyed home, and he still felt nothing. Well, annoyance, maybe. Having to watch you to make sure nothing strange happens.

He can remember how he came to Wooyoung, noticing the smell of blood over him mixed with majik. Mingi didn’t say a word about it at first, until he noticed the strange look on Wooyoung’s face. The way his eyes dilated, the scattered look in his gaze. Faeries, you see, Unseelie like them, feeding off a human gives them this sort of increase in energy. Makes their abilities much stronger than before. But there are times when an Unseelie feeds too much, too often. When the feeling consumes them, it makes them much more dangerous than before. Mingi hasn’t seen it in a while so it was easy to recognize it consuming his mate. The distant look. Immediately flying to your home, seeing the blood everywhere. It took him so long to fix it up enough so that you wouldn’t notice a thing. Wouldn’t notice the strong smell of death in the apartment. And just as a precaution, he decided to stay and watch you. To make sure he didn’t miss a thing.

You fall to the floor, sobs echoing around the small space. His eyes narrow for a moment, a strange thought almost escaping his parted lips.

He wonders if you will be alright.

“Did she take it well?” Hongjoong asks Mingi, lips quirked when he sees the frown on his cheeks. “It is only a minor setback. It should be over soon.”

It’s several days later when Hongjoong calls Mingi into his room. Mingi doesn’t really like entering, the mess is a bit overwhelming sometimes. But he sees that he fixed it up enough for him to tolerate it. A small gesture of kindness in a strange situation.

“She will be devastated for months on end.”

“She will get over it.”

Mingi’s brow furrows. “Though I don’t know humans well enough to make a judgment, I think it’s safe to say that her getting over it won’t happen for a while. You’re overestimating her emotional state, Hongjoong. She was crying over a photo of them together. She cried over human utensils.”

Hongjoong snickers, shrugging, “What can I do? Her human partner is already deceased somewhere along the valley. It’s not like I can bring him back to life again. Playing with Death isn’t wise, you know. Even for an Unseelie. Plus,” he wiggles his fingers. “I promised that I wouldn’t manipulate her mind to care for us. Nothing else I can do. Maybe Yunho or Jongho could cheer her up, they seem to care for her the most.”

“They don’t know her. None of us do.”

“They seem to know enough.”

Mingi could read between the lines. Hongjoong’s dance around the truth is almost humorous now. The word seem. He lines his sentences with it often, using it to twist a lie enough to be partially true. Though Seonghwa was the one who was most interested in the beginning – mostly to dissect her – Hongjoong’s interest is slowly rising. Especially since the others are focused on her more now.

What is this human doing to his spark? None of them even know you in the slightest except for some background details. What is this quite random obsession with a human? Especially one as mundane and ordinary as you?

“You look irritated,” Hongjoong notes, flipping through his papers. “Letting those emotions dwell isn’t good for you.”

“You all care for this stranger too much, it’s infuriating.”

Hongjoong grins, “Or do you just care for her too little?”

Mingi closes his eyes for a moment, a harsh gust of air escaping his nose. He pinches it slightly, eyes flicking back to his friend. “We aren’t supposed to care for humans at all.”

“And yet here we are, doing that exact thing.”

“Stop saying we,” Mingi frowns, Hongjoong’s eyes lighting up.

“So is it not true, then? Do you not care for her?”

“I care that she is affecting everyone."

"Not unlike a faerie, twisting your words," Hongjoong giggles.

"Hongjoong," Mingi sighs. "We can't continue like this. There has to be something done. I can't continue to pretend like everything is fine when it's the opposite."

This time, the giggle slowly disappearing from Hongjoong’s expression. He nods solemnly. "And it will be dealt with. It will take time, Mingi. We can't mess up. Not now when tensions are so high between us and the Seelie. If there is something different about her, majik or otherwise, we have to figure it out. It may ease the tension if only momentarily. She seems like a decent human no? I can bet that she will be willing to sacrifice her well being for an important cause."

"You think a human would care about faeries that feed on humans?"

Hongjoong shrugs, "Either that, or we take her unwillingly. It's her choice in the end."

"Not much of one."

Hongjoong grins, "Well she doesn't need to know that."

Seonghwa picks up his book, flicking through the pages. Nothing stands out. There isn’t any record of a human being that has resisted the charm of a faerie from what he can see. Not any ordinary humans, at least. But he found you unextraordinary. Nothing makes you stand out from the crowd, nothing that catches his eye. You just happened to be at the right place, right time. Interesting how circumstances led him to gloss over these pages, desperate to find a reason why you are the way you are. Is it a natural defense? Has human evolution created subspecies that are resistant to the charm of a Unseelie?

If that is so, they’re existence on this Earth will begin to fade.

His fingers grip the research papers, jaw tightening. The words running through his head annoy him, but there’s nothing else he can do. He must dissect you. But how will he get you here? How will your disappearance go unnoticed in such a small town? How will he separate your mind from that tall human you call your partner?

“Your thoughts are plastered on your face, Hwa,” Yeosang steps into the room, tailed by San. Seonghwa has noticed that they are often together, the eldest of the two ignoring San’s presence most of the time. But all of them can see through it. Despite how aloof Yeosang is, he adores the attention given to him. Swims in it, even. So, as it always is, Yeosang barely gives the man a glance, sitting on the edge of the sofa. “I heard about this human you found.”

“It’s resistant, Yeosang. I can’t have it roaming around without us knowing why we can’t charm it. There must be a reason.”

“Like in the movies,” San widens his eyes, nudging Yeosang. “The one person who has the cure!”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “This isn’t a zombie flick.”

“You don’t know that. We could be in one right now.”

Yeosang snorts, San puffing up his chest. Despite how irritated Seonghwa is, his lips crack into a small smile, only boosting San’s ego. He closes his notebook, rubbing his face. “I have to know why.”

“Have to, or want to?” Yeosang asks, brow raised. “We could just leave it as is. If another human found out about it, it could lead down a rabbit hole.”

“Let her go?” Seonghwa frowns. “Wooyoung already interfered. Letting it all go won’t end well.”

“You will take her then? Run tests to see why she’s resistant? It would be difficult to pull her from her life, but humans already suspect that she’s a bad luck charm in her village. It’s not like they’d be unhappy she’s gone,” Yeosang sniffs a jar, face contorting at the smell. “Rancid.”

“It’s frog intestines boiled in a rat’s tail and mermaid essence,” Seonghwa murmurs, Yeosang covering his face to keep from gagging. “But how do you know about that? Were you researching?”

San speaks up this time, “Jongho visited her at the bookstore her partner owns. Well, owned. It wasn’t long until he heard whispers of the villagers talking about getting rid of her because of the disappearances that have been happening ever since she arrived in town. And now it's her partner.”

“It’s not even her fault,” Yeosang adds.

“Humans are disloyal,” Seonghwa tsks. “But it is best for us I suppose. They will probably bask and rejoice in her disappearance.”

"That's a bit pitiful. It doesn't come as a surprise that she wanted to leave so badly. I wouldn't want to be around people that hate me either."

"But now she won't leave because she doesn't know what happened to that Soobin. The mystery of his disappearance may cause her to stay for a long time. A lot of humans aren't able to move on from partners that are gone," Seonghwa rubs his face. "It's difficult to know what to do without seeing her."

"Go," Jongho enters the room, Mingi just behind him. Both drenched in sweat from their training session, Seonghwa's nose wrinkles in disgust when he sees fluids drip onto his floor. "Visit her. I'll join if you'd like."

"Not necessary. Mingi," Seonghwa's focus moves to the taller of the two. Mingi raises his brow. "Was she distraught?"

He nods slowly. "Very much so. That was a few weeks ago though. She may have calmed down. But there is no guarantee; we all know how emotional humans are."

“You’re sensitive to emotions Seonghwa, are you sure you’re willing to go there? Humans irritate you to no end,” Wooyoung murmurs. “I can go –”

“You messed up the last time, Wooyoung. And back then we didn’t even tell you much about her. There’s no telling what you’ll do now. It’s better if you’re not interested at all,” San wraps his arm around his neck, tugging him out the room. The door closes slightly behind them. Yeosang, Mingi, and Jongho remain in the room with Seonghwa.

Idle conversation swirls around the room as they speak softly, Seonghwa gathering up his belongings. His curiosity greatly surpasses his lack of care for humankind. If there is someone like you out there, how many more are the same? He can remember the conversation you had with your partner - how you were afraid of something being off. It was Seonghwa of course, but rarely has a human ever felt the chills of faeries around them. So many things don’t come to proper conclusions in his head and he needs to know. For the safety of himself and every person in this home. Perhaps for the fate of the Unseelie entirely.

He leaves the library, book tucked underneath his arm. He enters his room, barely giving Hongjoong - who rests in his bed - a glance. He listens as he stands up from the sheets, an arm wrapping around his waist, tugging him closer.

Hongjoong presses his lips against his back, humming. “There’s no need to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders. The human probably doesn’t even know of its resistance to your lure. It may just be one in a billion.”

“I have to make sure. It’s for all of us, not just me,” Seonghwa says, pulling away from his hold. It’s something they often do - Hongjoong tries to pull him closer only for Seonghwa to pull away. It’s happened ever since the beginning. “You know that. You should be more worried than me.”

“Why worry about a silly little human?” Hongjoong snorts. “She will die in a few decades anyway.”

“It seems like I’m the only one who cares about her existence,” Seonghwa lifts his clothes and tosses them, replacing them with a more human-like outfit. He barely gives himself a look in the mirror, a scowl etched on his features. How humans have not moved past such hideous outfits is beyond him. “I would kill her if it weren’t for the unknown.”

“Everyone and this little human,” Hongjoong sighs. “Fine. Do whatever you’d like. Just be back for the council meeting. The other Unseelies don’t quite approve of the recent killings we’ve done.”

Seonghwa furrows his brows, “Since when did they care about our dealings?”

“Since they’ve begun to notice the pattern of disappearances. Humans are not exactly happy with us, even though they don’t have a method of killing us.”

“Then me interacting with her now is important,” Seonghwa quickly grabs his bag. “I’ll be back with my findings. And I won’t kill her. At least not right now.” he glances at his leader. “Don’t wait for me if I’m not back for the meeting.”

“Hwa-”

He disappears just as Hongjoong begins to speak. Hongjoong stares blankly at the place he once was, brows furrowed. Just what is it about this human that has everyone losing their minds? He purses his lips, lifting himself off the bed. Soon enough he’ll find out for himself.

Seonghwa slowly enters the bookstore. The bell rings against the glass pane of the door, his steps hesitant. There isn't anyone around the bookstore, soft music playing. He tucks his hands into his coat pocket, unaccustomed to the cold environment. His eyes roam around, books neatly stacked, signs arranged in alphabetical order. It warms his heart a bit to see organization – his own library doesn't see it as much as he'd like. The quick steps of a human running pulls his thoughts away, eyes flicking over to you.

You hold a couple of books in your hand, hair unkempt and eyes filled with exhaustion. A pen tucked behind your ear, you give him a sincere smile, placing the books in a neat stack on the counter.

"Welcome to our bookstore!" You say happily, meeting the eyes of the stranger. Just as you do, your thoughts move back to over a month or so ago. The festival. The stranger in the woods. Your smile wavers for a moment as you look at him. He looks as ordinary as a man with unreal beauty can look. Perhaps you were a bit out of it at the time. Still, you remain wary, inching closer to the counter behind you.

"Hello, I’m Seonghwa," he says softly. His voice is deep, eyes dark as he stares at you. His hair is darker than any black you've seen, even the shade of brown in his eyes more black than anything else. His clothing choice is odd as well - a thin graphic tee and slacks covering sports shoes. Completely and utterly different from the well-dressed man in a cloak you witnessed in the forest. He looks uncomfortable in it as well, tugging slightly on the fabric. You swallow slowly, forcing another grin on your lips.

"Hi, I’m y/n. How can I help you?"

"I'm quite new to venturing out into town," he steps around, fingertips stroking the top of a stack of new hardcovers. "The others told me of a bookstore and a café together in one. If you don't mind, I'd like to look around and perhaps have a drink. Whenever you are ready to prepare?"

You push the eerie feeling away, agreeing. "Of course. What would you like, then?"

Seonghwa sits himself at your favorite spot - a small loveseat situated near the front windows. The same place Soobin and you would rest after a long day, counting tills. The light shines on him as he ponders, eyes flicking over the assortment of sweets and drink displays behind you. You take a step to the side and he sends you a small thank you in the form of a smile. He leans, gazing at your open cabinets. "Anything with saffron. Or sweet, I do quite enjoy that."

You ponder for a moment, before opening your cabinet and retrieving your tea leaves. You take out the honey as well, not noticing how his eyes widen at the jar. You take out the milk as well, glancing at Seonghwa. "Milk tea with honey? I should have some cookies around…" You mumble, digging through the drawer. "Soobin usually eats it all."

"Soobin?" His brows furrow.

You pause.

"Yes, my partner. Former partner. The person who owns this place," you raise your brow. There's an unreadable look on his face, but it doesn't linger long enough for you to consider what it was. Setting the water to a boil, you slide back into your seat, humming. "There's a small farmhouse just next to the Rowan trees that I'm looking to buy. Just a few more days until I find out if I get it or not." It’s outside of the town enough that you’d still be able to live comfortably. Moving into the city right now is on the bottom of your list. And even if you do decide to leave, at least you’ll have a place to fall back on. It isn’t too expensive since it’s been abandoned for years now.

"You're married?" He asks, thanking you as you pass him his tea and the honey jar.

"No, it’s complicated right now. I’m not too sure where he is if I'm being honest.”

You see the puzzled look on his face, and quickly clear it up.

“We had a falling out not too long ago. That’s why the shop looks this way. But yeah, I planned on moving soon. At least when I found something more stable," you think. Though the two of you were friends before partners, Soobin always gave little answer or thought to marriage. In fact, he said he started to consider it only when you brought it up. That was three years ago. Now, you don’t even know where he is, or if he’s coming back.

"Are you sure about that?" He raises his brow.

“About what?”

“Finding somewhere else. I remember you mentioning that this place looks a bit…” he trails off. “But it looks fine to me. Perhaps a bit too orderly for a small town bookstore.”

You blink quickly. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his tea.

You move away from him then, grabbing your stack of books off the table and going back to work. The fear of him being around you has subsided. Though there is still a mysterious cloud around him, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before in your travels through the city. You curse yourself for even mentioning Soobin, placing the books on the shelves. You probably drove away another customer in your whines to the stranger.

You glance back at him and see that he's reading one of the magazines you've left on the table, sipping his tea. How someone could look elegant while sitting in a t-shirt is beyond your understanding.

"Do you enjoy the town?" You ask, finishing your task. He looks up from the magazine.

"It's quite alright. Just like any other small town. Intrusive townspeople, curious eyes following you wherever you go. Clovers to drive away mysterious creatures of the night," his lips lift. "Ah, speaking of that…"

The bell rings, your focus on the door. A few patrons enter, distracting you. Just as you finish helping and guiding their questions away from your missing boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, whatever he is – you look over to the loveseat and see it empty. Seonghwa must have slipped away while you were distracted. Resting beneath the teacup is way too much money. With a small note wrapped around it.

Thank you for the tea.

Next to the sentence lies a small drawing of a four-leaf clover.

—

You stare at the computer, frustration growing. The webpage doesn't help you in the slightest. Lines and lines of retellings of the same old tales. Faeries are dangerous, stay away from the fae. Don't listen to the fae, don't accept gifts from them. The same things over and over. Words that have been embedded into your very being. Nothing of which is news to you. Your eyes flick to the small list you've created, summarizing everything you've read thus far and narrowing it to a few points.

How to survive an encounter with an Unseelie fae [fǣġe]:

Do not eat what they offer. Do not drink what they offer.

Majik always has a price, do not risk a deal. Do not ask for them to save a loved one. Do not ask for them to take your firstborn. Do not accept any offer they may give you.

Do not invite them into your home.

Faeries cannot lie. Because of this, they are eloquent with their words. Do not be fooled.

Do not summon an Unseelie.

If you see something strange, leave immediately. Four leaf clovers are a sign of a faerie near.

Do not celebrate with faeries. Under any circumstances.

Do not enter the forest at night.

If you are followed by a crow or raven, enter the nearest home and do not leave until it is gone. The Unseelie are following you.

Do not fall in love with a faerie, they will not love you the same.

"This is so insane," You put your head in your hands. Maybe that's why Soobin left. He saw how you'd turn out before you even did. You snort at the thought, rubbing your face. Seonghwa's drawing of the four-leaf clover could be just a coincidence. It's not like it isn't an obvious symbol painted and carved into almost every building around town. And yet, the way he's acted, the stares you felt on you when your back was turned – something was off with him. Even if he isn't a faerie, he's something.

Or you're truly just being silly.

You stare at the list again, adding one more point.

Faeries are not affected by four-leaf clovers.

#fic: wonderwall #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic

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callmelittlesunshinefics · 9 months ago

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Dancing On My Own (Gambit X Reader, Part One)

Alrighty folks, this was meant to be a quick fluffy one shot that keeps getting longer and more angsty and has been sitting in my drafts for entirely too long now. Still very much a WIP that will be continued this week or next, PG13 for the time being with potential to take a turn for spicy down the line :)

A/N: Some quick background, the reader (Y/N in fic, described with she/her pronouns) is based off of an OC I tend to pull out pretty frequently. Half human, half angel, displaced from their home universe and dropped into this one (in which Lucifer, the tv show, is also cannon because why not maybe do a crossover down the line?). Gambit x Reader is the main ship we're sailing towards, but there's definitely some Logan x Reader if you squint. OH and last last thing, there's a party and I'm shamelessly linking the dress I had in mind for the reader here.

gif credit :) : @counterspelling

Dropping below a read more, don't be shy, come say hi when you're done reading! :)

“‘Stay for the summer!’ they said, ‘quiet and relaxing’ they said!” You throw the words you were told back at Jubilee who looks back at you completely unfazed as you continue untangling string lights to hang in the garden.

“Honestly Y/N if you had stopped for two seconds to think about who was telling you that, you probably would’ve gone back to LA.”

She was completely right, of course. You showed up to Xavier’s school not a mutant, not fully human either, and just looking for a place on the east coast to stay. Your uncle Lucifer made a few calls, found a friend willing to host a universe-displaced nephilim, and the rest was history. You might not be a mutant, but you were a partial human with powers you couldn’t always understand, and even other angels in this universe weren’t always able to help. Charles met and understood you quicker than anyone you’ve ever encountered in this universe or the next, so when you were asked to extend your stay and take on some guardian duties over the summer you were happy enough to agree.

“Jean is the one who told you it would be relaxing, and Jean’s idea of relaxing is staying at a constant level 8 of activity.”

“How is that not like the school year?” You rolled your eyes, dropping the lights.

“Well during the school year she bounces between a 9 and 10, reserving 7s and 8s for the weekend. I can make you a diagram or something if you need it.”

“I’m going to need a lot more than that by the time we’re done here.”

“Maybe Gambit can help you with that?” Remy had sauntered over from the basketball court, at least that’s what you assumed given his current state of undress.

“Unless you’re here to help decorate, I don’t think so handsome. If Jean catches us behind schedule the phoenix might make a reappearance…” You looked around and took a deep breath, realizing that other than the lights, everything looked pretty set. There was a reasonable sized clearing in the garden and Jean had hired a company to install a temporary dance floor. Chairs and tables were scattered around picnic style, and Jubilee had done an amazing job of setting up the bar despite being the only one unable to drink, legally.

“I think it’s actually just the lights,” Jubilee nodded to the messy pile at your feet, “And I think Gambit would be more help with that than me anyway, so?”

“Go ahead,” you nodded smiling and she ran over to hug you, “And if you go to the mall, bring me back a pretzel!!!” You yelled after her knowing it was useless, she’d bring you a pretzel whether she heard you or not.

“Avoiding me, chere?” Gambit eyed you with his usual flirtatious undertone that you couldn’t make heads or tails of.

“In fact, I am. Grab that end?” You handed him the lights as he waited for an explanation, “Okay, I’m going to sit in the tree, I just need you to feed me the lights as we move. Ready?” You didn’t give him a chance to answer, disappearing and reappearing in the branch just above his head.

Gambit stared back troubled and suspicious, so you nodded and gave him the sarcastic, albeit not entirely untrue, answer he was waiting for, “Oh Remy my attraction to you is just so strong and all consuming that I had to avoid you in order to get anything done at all. Every second I can’t throw myself at you is torture. Et cetera, et cetera, please start passing me the lights so I can go inside and shower.”

He laughed and finally did as you said, “You know if you wanted ol’Gambit all you had to do was ask.”

The two of you worked in a comfortable silence passing the lights through the trees. Just as you finished wrapping the last string, your footing slipped and you let out a quick yelp before bracing yourself for a fall that never came.

“I never would have guessed angels could be so clumsy.”

“If we weren’t you’d be short of a pickup line. Tell me honestly, how many times have you asked a lady if she fell from heaven?” Remy laughed and began walking away with you still in his arms.

“Not as many as you think, chere. Are we about done out here?”

You looked around and nodded, “Finally, yes. It was a good catch by the way, but I think I can walk on my own.”

Placing you back on the ground, the two of you walked towards the mansion in another comfortable silence. Remy was probably tied with Jubilee as your closest friend in the school. You could remember the first day you arrived, how he couldn’t stop watching you. It wasn’t until later that same night, you were out in the garden and could still sense him watching you, that you decided to do something about it. You walked right up to him, introduced yourself, and asked him to kindly explain why he was staring at you like he’s seeing a ghost.

It turned out the boy who grew up being told he was a demon had a lot of mixed feelings discovering angels and demons were not only real, but one of them was living under his roof. Remy felt a bit silly admitting it to you, but he owed you an honest answer when you confronted him so directly. And when he told you what people had said about him, what he suspected his own parents must have thought of him, your heart broke. You told him stories of all the demons and monsters you’ve encountered, and reassured him that he didn’t come close to fitting the bill.

“What’s on your mind, Remy?” There was quiet and then there was Quiet. You were still pretty new, but you knew well enough when something was bothering him.

“Are you heading back?” You stopped short, and he stopped to face you.

“Back where, Rem?”

“Anywhere that’s not here.” He was facing you but he wouldn’t quite look at you, as if he didn’t actually want to hear the answer.

You took a deep breath, “The honest answer is that I don’t know. I don’t really feel like LA is where I belong, but I’m not a mutant or a gifted youngster either. I mean, I’m not even from this u-”

“Okay, okay.” Gambit interrupted you with a hug, correctly sensing an impending panic attack from you, “Gambit just worried he won’t get to see you s’all.”

You took a deep breath, sighing into the hug, “Well that’s really stupid.” He pulled back to look at you, full of confusion. “It’s really stupid because if I were going anywhere you’d be the first person I tell, and because it takes me about 5 seconds flat to get anywhere. I’d be back before you even knew I was gone.”

You smiled wistfully and he returned it, “I’d know.”

The two of you continued heading in and you finally felt brave enough to ask the question you’ve really been wanting to ask.

“Well, I have to head up and start getting ready for tonight. What about you, getting ready for your date?” Of course, you weren’t sure he actually had one, but that was as direct as you could bring yourself to be.

“Suppose I should be doing the same. Save Gambit a dance?” He kissed your hand and walked away, leaving you flustered and confused. You immediately pulled out your phone.

Y/N: okay so i said ‘gotta go get ready! what about you, getting ready for your date?’ and he said ‘suppose i should do the same’ what do we do with that??

JB: does he think you have a date??

Y/N: SHOULD i have a date???

JB: yeah, one of you should have asked the other out by now

You dropped your phone on your bed, having finally made it to your room after a flurry of texts. Complicated feelings for your maybe best friend aside, it was still important to you to be slightly better than presentable tonight.

Tonight was the first time all summer the adults of the mansion could relax and have a good time, and some non-residential mutants would also be joining the mix. You had never really been to anything so strictly social with the gang, and you didn’t take your invitation lightly.

It wasn’t exactly formal, but Jubilee was able to confirm your suspicion that it wasn’t exactly casual either. You showered, taking more time than usual to exfoliate and moisturize, trying to pamper yourself into relaxing and getting excited for the night ahead, trying to ignore Remy’s words from earlier bouncing around your head.

Two simple words that have had you in a tailspin since he said them so casually. ‘I’d know.’

The trouble maker in you wanted to test him on it, and you did a quick assessment of yourself to see if you could. Fresh out of the shower but mostly dressed, you were presentable. Should you take a quick trip overseas, hop over to France for some wine for tonight and back in a blink? You closed your eyes and heard a knock on your door just as you were about to take off.

You opened your door more suspicious than you’d care to admit, suddenly paranoid that Gambit sniffed you out, but you were met with Jubilee instead, weighed down with garment and shopping bags from the mall.

“You never answered me! I have your pretzel and you promised we’d do makeup together so-“ it was all the preamble she gave before forcing the pretzel on you and making herself at home in your room.

“I was showering! And I really thought you were going to be gone longer?”

“I just had to pick up some stuff I ordered for tonight, plus giving you and Gambit some time to flirt didn’t seem like a bad thing.”

You rolled your eyes, “We have banter, definitely, but I’m not sure I’d call it flirting. He flirts with everyone.”

“So you realize that what he does with you is different?” She turns it on you but you’ve heard it before.

“Yes, different as in he’s not interested!”

Jubilee made a sound of frustration before giving up and asking for help with contour. You dropped the subject and fell back into your usual routine, an easy friendship that reminded you more of sisters than friends. You showed up at the mansion looking for a place to stay while you visited old haunts, and you made a friend in Jubilee who was willing to venture into those places with you, even if it meant confronting ghosts.

“Lucky for you I think I found the perfect way to test his level of interest. You didn’t pick out what you’re wearing yet, did you?”

“Well yeah, I was just going to wear-” You started motioning to the dress you picked for tonight, but Jubilee was moving and cutting you off before you even finished.

“Okay so scrap that, I grabbed something for you at the mall,” she reached for one of the garment bags she had laid across your bed, “and if this doesn’t get a reaction out of him, I’m at a loss. What do you think?”

She unzipped the bag and your eyebrows flew up so fast you wondered if they were still there. It was hot pink, sequined, and most noticeably, short and backless. You reached out to touch it and couldn’t deny how beautiful it was. Sure, the pink was a lot and it showed more skin than you were strictly comfortable with, but you couldn’t deny that the striped details of the sequins were gorgeous, or that the dress would hug and accentuate your curves…dangerously.

“Now tell me what’s really going on because there’s no way you were able to afford this dress.”

Jubilee snorted, “You got me, it comes with a letter.” She handed you a small envelope you promptly opened and started reading.

‘Your young friend told me you planned to attend a party wearing some frumpy thing off a rack and that’s simply unacceptable for my niece, I have a reputation to uphold, Y/N ;) Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Sincerely, your Fairy DevilFather (p.s. TRY to have fun?)’

“Lucifer intervened to send me a dress?? How did you two even contact each other?”

“I answered your phone once when he called while you were showering. We really hit it off, he actually sent me one too!” She excitedly pulled out another bag and showed you an equally gorgeous, albeit much more modest dress. Part of you wanted to argue, but another part of you realized how exciting this was for your friend and you weren’t about to let her down when she was waiting for you to join her excitement.

“I think we might be best dressed tonight?” You smirked and she whooped, celebrating her victory.

“Oh I’m ready, maybe everyone will finally accept the fact that I’m 20 and stop treating me like I’m still 15.”

You knew it was a sore point for her, but you still smiled. The way all of the x-men treated Jubilee as their adopted child was something that endlessly warmed your heart, even if it frustrated your friend. The two of you took your time helping each other get your hair and makeup perfect before donning your dresses and leaving your bedroom, having already started to hear the arrival of a few guests and the slight murmur of conversation.

You stopped just short of the stairs, turning to face Jubilee, “Don’t they say ‘fashionably late’ is a good thing?” Your anxiety was starting to get the best of you, wearing such a risque dress to attend a party with lots of new faces.

“I think we’ve already reached fashionably late, babe, if we wait any longer they’ll think something is wrong.” You took a deep breath and started to make your way down the stairs. The mansion was empty, signalling that everyone else had already made their way out to the garden.

The sun was just beginning to set when the two of you arrived to find the party already in full swing. Jean and Scott were dancing, Logan and Hank sharing a drink by the bar, and around 20 faces you had never seen interspersed with the rest of the team. You heard a low wolf whistle behind you and felt a hand on your lower back.

“Breaking hearts tonight, chere?” Remy was on you before you could even turn to look at the sound.

“If I’m lucky.” You shrugged.

“Think I have enough of that for the both of us.” He winked and you tried and failed to suppress a snort that only made him grin wider.

You turned to say something to Jubilee and your eyes narrowed when you realized the little traitor had run over to greet her friends, leaving you and Gambit alone. She looked your way and winked as you openly glared at her.

“Well it looks like I’ve been ditched so I’ll need to borrow some of it.” You grimaced in the direction of the crowd, not needing to elaborate.

“All yours, chere.” He offered you his arm and you accepted, making your way into the party and jumping right into a flurry of introductions, hugs and handshakes that Remy led you through, guiding you away when it was time to move on.

It seemed innocent enough but you couldn’t stop focusing on the fact that Remy’s hands never left you. Whether it was an arm wrapped protectively around your waist or his hand on your exposed lower back, lazily tracing shapes you couldn’t make out, it was becoming increasingly distracting. He introduced you to Kurt and you only caught 30% of the conversation, too distracted by Remy’s hand tracing the curve of the dip at the back of your dress. You were relieved when Remy excused the two of you to go grab a drink.

“Admit it, not as bad as you thought.” Gambit smirked at you, leading you to a table where Logan and Jubilee were catching up.

You rolled your eyes, “I never thought it would be bad, I just,” You took a deep breath, “I don’t know, I guess I was worried I wouldn’t fit in here, or that everyone would be wondering why I’m even here but too polite to say anything.”

Logan and Jubilee both looked in your direction, hearing the tail end of your conversation that you didn’t bother hiding from them. Logan very openly looked you up and down before chuckling and taking a sip of what you suspected to be whiskey.

“No one’s kicking you out of here looking like that, that’s for sure.” It was maybe the first time the wolverine had ever given you a compliment and you blushed.

“You clean up rather nicely yourself, Logan.”

“Then why are you spending all night with the cajun instead of talking to me?” You were surprised but did your best to cover it up, meanwhile Jubilee was fighting off a laugh herself by taking a sip of her drink.

“Because the cajun knows how a lady should be treated.” Gambit grumbled, leveling Logan with a look before departing briefly to get the both of you drinks.

“Does he?” Logan asked you while you sat to join them, shooting him a quizzical look before he continued, “Know how to treat a lady?”

“How much have you had, Logan?” You asked, eyeing his drink.

“Not that much, darlin’. Answer the question.” If there was one thing you loved about Logan it was his lack of bullshit, and judging by the look on Jubilee’s face as she waited for your answer, right now it was probably her favorite thing about him too,

“He’s been a perfect gentleman, but we’re just friends.” You tried to say it in a way that wouldn’t reveal how much that bothered you, but both of them knew better. Gambit returned a second later with your drinks and you only got two sips in before Logan insisted on a round of shots.

One round turned into two, turned into three, turned into…you lost count. Jubilee was swaying happily in her seat, having convinced the two men to let her join in with half shots somewhere around round three. Everyone’s judgement was impaired by that point, but she made a great argument about drinking for the first at home where she’s safe or something else you couldn’t remember anymore in your happily inebriated state.

A song came on and you gasped, turning towards the dancefloor and excitedly announcing your love for the song. What it was called? You couldn’t remember if your life depended on it, but you needed to dance. You locked eyes with Remy who smiled but shifted his eyes away awkwardly, causing you to quickly deflate.

“Have you even had a dance yet tonight, Y/N?” Logan asked you suspiciously.

“Not yet.” You pouted, considering heading out on your own, dance partner be damned.

“Knows how to treat a lady my ass.” Logan grumbled in Gambit’s direction, shooting a glare at him before getting up and begrudgingly but kindly offering you his hand.

“Oh. my. GOD.” Jubilee squealed, far too gone to contain her excitement at the drama, as she would say.

You beamed at Logan, accepting his hand and making a run for the dance floor, pulling him along behind you.

“That crazy cajun might try to take my head off later for this.” Logan grumbled, settling his arms at your waist while you threw yours around his neck, getting closer than was strictly necessary so the two of you could continue your talk while dancing. Your eyes shifted over to where you just left your friends and you felt a stabbing pain in your chest when you looked for Remy just to see he had also made his way over to the dance floor, with Rogue.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Logan.” Your eyes were starting to tear up and you looked up trying to stop it as Logan became worried, turning to figure out what made you so upset. His eyes landed on Gambit and he growled, holding you a little closer as he actively tried to calm down.

“I’ll kill him.”

“You won’t.” You laughed, “He’s allowed to be with whoever he wants.”

“Yeah, but he’s not allowed to follow you around all night like a lovesick puppy just to ditch you when he catches another scent.”

You smiled sadly, “He was being a good friend earlier, that’s it.”

Logan pulled you closer and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “I watched his hands stray all over you, Y/N,” He touched your bare back to emphasize his point, “He’s not a friend, he’s a coward.” You couldn’t take it anymore and hugged Logan, hiding your face in his chest to let a few tears escape, hoping you would feel a bit better if you could get some of your distress out.

“Might have to kill em for making you cry.” Logan grumbled and you laughed, smiling up at him despite yourself.

“Believe it or not you’re helping enough like this.” The two of you continued dancing and Logan’s discomfort wasn’t wasted on you, but he’d be damned if he let the two of you leave that dance floor before Gambit and Rogue. He was making a point.

The music began to slow down and Rogue and Gambit finally went their separate ways. You watched as Remy found Jubilee again and made their way back over to the table, you turned to Logan.

“Think we should head back?” He looked behind you and shook his head.

“We finally get a song that’s more my speed and you want to leave?” He shook his head no and pulled you closer, making you laugh and rest your head on his chest as the two of you swayed lazily.

“Thank you, Logan. It’s not how I expected the night to go but I wouldn’t have gotten through it without you.”

“Dancing with you looking like that isn’t exactly a punishment.” He snarked and you chuckled.

“Mind if I cut in?” You looked up to meet red eyes, Remy looking between you and Logan harshly before addressing you again more quietly, “Didn’t Gambit ask you to save him a dance?”

You hesitated and Logan took that as his cue, “Bad timing cajun, Y/N just said she was getting dizzy, we’re heading back to the table.” Logan put his arm around you and lead you out of there, leaving Gambit to grumble and trail the two of you back.

Jean had joined Jubilee to rest and eyed the three of you quizzically as you made your return.

“Y/N!! I found out that shots of vodka with cranberry juice is amazing, look!” She held out a shot for you and you grabbed it and threw it back before Logan and Remy could even finish their protests.

“Chere! Didn’t you say you were dizzy?” Gambit took the shot glass out of your hand, leading you to a chair.

“From the dancing, Rem! I definitely haven’t had enough to drink yet.”

Jubilee whooped and passed you another shot, clinking it to her own before you both threw them back. Jean looked at you even more confused and you tapped your temple with a wink, an agreed upon gesture inviting her to read your mind.

“Rough night but I promise everything is okay, just need to drown my sorrows a little with you guys. Logan’s been doing his best.”

You heard Jean’s response in your head, “Fair enough. I’ve been cutting Jubilee’s shots with a lot of cranberry juice. Seriously, a LOT.”

You struggled to mask your laugh, “As I was saying, definitely not enough to drink, I’m gonna go-“ You stood and made your way to the bar on your own before anyone else could say anything, but you could feel a few sets of eyes watching you leave.

Someone had been manning the bar, but as the night wore on and the guests dwindled, those of you remaining were left to fend for yourself. You assessed your options and reached for the gin, giving that a generous pour before adding sprite, a splash of cranberry juice, and a lime wedge before you can talk yourself out of it.

“That looks amazing, can you make me one too?” Jubilee had appeared at your side and you smiled before making her a much more restrained version of yours. “Now I need you to tell me eeeeevery detail of you and Wolvie dancing I mean I neeeever-“

“To be clear,” you interrupted, sipping at your drink, “It was a pity save when it became painfully obvious Remy wasn’t going to ask.”

“After spending literally all night following you around and basically growling at anyone that tried to get near you, what’s up with that??” She made a good point but you weren’t sure what she meant by that first part.

“Pause, rewind, what are you talking about ‘basically growling’?”

“You seriously didn’t realize how handsy he got with you when Kurt started getting friendly?”

You realized you were drunk when you couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, “I was so distracted by him being handsy I didn’t even hear whatever Kurt was saying to make the connection.”

Jubilee nearly spat her drink in your face and she started smacking you excitedly, “Can you please please go tell him that??”

“But then he didn’t ask me to dance!! He pointedly looked away!!”

“So Logan? What happened there?” You were starting to suspect your friend wasn’t nearly as inebriated as you thought, her tone sounding surprisingly sharp shifting gears.

“I really don’t think there’s anything more than his mother-hen instincts going on there.”

Her eyes rolled and she shrugged, “I’d agree if it was just one dance, but-“

“Again, pretty sure that was to save me from being zeroed in on Gambit’s dance with Rogue..”

She didn’t have a response for that one and she simply clinked your drink before you both took generous sips, “Don’t tell Jean.” You whispered as you topped both of your glasses off before heading back to the group.

Jean had left to track down Scott who was mingling in the small groups that remained, some still dancing but most everyone else was doing the same as your small group. Jubilee bounced into the seat next to Logan and you drifted a beat too long before sitting next to Gambit. The silence that stretched between the two of you was no longer as comfortable as it was earlier, so you broke and piped up first.

“I almost tested you earlier, you know.”

“Almost?” Remy squinted at you, “Been testing me all night, chere.”

You narrowed your eyes back but decided not to engage, continuing your thought instead, “When you said you’d know if I left?” His playful glare dropped and he waited on your next words, “Just a quick trip before the party but still, decided against it.”

Remy chewed on what you were saying and not saying, wondering how the night had gotten so far away from him. Everything started out better than he expected, getting to show you around the party, not letting you too far out of sight in that dress, and then the hesitation. His own doubt sneaking in, reminding him that Y/N is quite literally an angel, he knew her place in the world, but his? He looked over at you waiting for a response and decided that didn’t matter right now.

“Still have sea legs or are you about ready for that dance, chere?” He didn’t leave you much room to answer, already standing with his arm extended.

“You know I literally just sat back down, right?” He rolled his eyes at you, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet alongside him. Your night was clearly nowhere near over and you gave in, letting Remy lead you back onto the dance floor and into his arms.

#gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader #xmen #x men the animated series #x men 97 #remy lebeau #gambit #gambit xmen #light angst #in which reader and gambit are both complete idiots #but we love them anyway #tw drinking

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obsessivestar · 4 months ago

Text

'What If It's All A RomCom?' - A Ted Nivison x Reader (Lemon)

{{-Here we are folks. We've finally reached the first smut chapter, Chapter. I ain't gonna say much except definitely go and read Chapter 5 before this one cause it's somewhat necessary. All other chapters will be listed at the bottom. Enjoy 😊 pls don't ban me-}}

//General Warnings: 18+ Fic, Reader is implied to be afab and under 5'5

Chapter Warnings: PURE SMUT. IF YOU'RE UNDER 18 GO AWAY. Heavy kissing, fingering, Ted giving head, passionate shii, finishes inside, whole noin yawds\\

Word Count: 4.9k (y/w)

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎Taglist!▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

@k-k0129 & @callsign-scully

☆Thank y'all for bein' as nasty as me LMAO☆

Chapter 6: No Cameras

Ted is looking at me with this stupid half-smile on his face, knowing full well he had caught me red handed. I'm scrolling through my panicked mind to find some sort of excuse that'll make sense, but I don't think I can talk my way out of this one.

"You fuckin' did, didn't you?" Ted asks, his smile only getting bigger the longer I take to answer. He's keeping his eyes on mine, keeping his hands on his laptop's mousepad to keep the light from dimming. I break the eye contact by rolling my eyes and shake my head. "Keep dreaming.." I mutter, trying to play off my clear embarrassment with a scoff. "No no no no, I fucking know what I saw! I'm not letting you avoid it this time." Ted chuckles, setting his laptop aside to sit up more in my direction. I turn away to turn on the lamp beside me. I feel like I need to see his face at all times, like something bad will happen if I can't see him. Maybe I want something bad to happen.

"'This time'?" I repeat, furrowing my brows at him. "When have I ever--"

"This afternoon, when we were stuck in the truck?" Ted raised his brows at me, giving me this 'I gotcha' expression. "I let it slide when you checked me out the first time; chalked it up to you playin' with me, now I'm not so sure."

"Playing with you?" I repeated what he said again. Seems repeating back what he's saying to me is all I can muster up, he's reading me like a book and I don't want to give him any more pages.

"Like our back and forths? I thought it was still just that, but now? I mean, pshh, if I'm wrong, tell me and I'll leave ya alone."

"Leave me alone?" I raise a brow at Ted while trying to avoid eye contact.

"Yeah. If I'm--If I'm just fuckin' crazy, tell me and I'll leave. I won't bring it up again tomorrow and we can...keep things as they are, I guess." Ted explained, gesturing to me. "But I don't think I'm crazy."

Remember that timer I mentioned? Now I feel like it's counting down from 20. I can practically hear the ticking in my head as I lock eyes with Ted once more. I'm trying to read his expression. I'm looking for any signs of how he's feeling as well. He's been saying things like 'why I couldn't kiss you doesn't need to be said at this rate' and 'we should be louder', but I can't recall him ever making a move. Our chemistry can't be denied, and neither can my attraction to him, yet I'm still having doubts. If I lie, he leaves my room and never brings it up again, but I may never discover how he feels, and all of this tension will fizzle out into an unsatisfying nothing. But if I tell the truth and he doesn't feel the same, the next 2 and a half weeks are going to be incredibly awkward. He could even quit, or maybe I'd have to quit.

I'm terrified of having the wrong idea about all of this. I don't know when or if the playful flirting became real, I don't know when or if the sarcastic pet names became real, but we've been sitting together, teaming up, going out to run errands, kissing longer than we should. I can't pinpoint a single moment where either of our teasing may have blossomed into something more.

But...it can't just be my imagination. There has to be more.

"I....may have glanced.." I admit with an embarrassed smile, looking up at the ceiling and turning my head away from Ted. I didn't want to see his reaction, but he certainly made it known. "Oh my god.." Ted playfully gasps, I can hear him grinning ear to ear, it's making me anxious "You like me! Do you like me??"

"...I gotta fix the curtains.." I mutter to myself, finding an excuse to get out of bed. I turn off the lamp first, a quiet huff leaving me. I still couldn't tell how he was feeling, and it was bothering me. Was he making fun of me? My face felt so warm, I didn't want him to look at it at all. "Oh no fucking way. Stay there, we're talkin' about this." I hear Ted chuckle and move around a little. "I'm not going fucking anywhere until I get some answers."

I move to open the curtains, taking a quiet but deep breath as I struggle to pull them apart. I have to lean over a dresser just to get to the curtains so I'm initially too distracted to hear that Ted was getting out of bed, until it's too late. I watch his hand take my arm so I'm forced to look at him, realizing he's practically got me cornered. Behind me is the air conditioner, and behind that is a wall. The only other place I can move to now is the bed, unless Ted moves.

"You can't act like it's all a fuckin' joke now. I gotchu, (Y/N). I gotchu."

"'Got me' what?" I huff with an embarrassed smile, once again avoiding eye contact as I remove his hand from my arm. "It was a glance."

"Oh you're gonna try and fuckin' lie now, eh princess? Not gonna own it?"

"Own what?"

"That you like me! You've given me the fuckin' kissing tell twice today! Off camera! What, you don't wanna kiss me now?"

"I wanted to open the curtains."

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"Ted, I can't move--"

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"I wanna get out of this corner--"

"Look at me then."

"Ted, it's the fucking tell for our film, it doesn't mean--"

"If it doesn't mean anything, look at me."

I roll my eyes and turn my head to face him once more, seeing just how close he had really gotten to me. His body was merely inches away from mine, and man, was he towering over me. It was a little overwhelming, I felt like I couldn't breathe properly. He's looking at me with that same devilish half-smile from before. I can't hold back the urge to smile, a light giggle leaving me as I force myself to break away from his gaze. I'm almost glad he caught me. He's so handsome. When he gives me those eyes, I panic. I can't look him straight in the eyes for too long. I feel like I'm falling right into a trap, but maybe I wanted to be caught. And yet I still try to talk my way out of it.

"Y-You were talking! I was just--I was listening to you talk." I huffed, shrugging with my hands out somewhat. I knew I sounded defensive as fuck, I couldn't control my tone. I was so nervous. Even with my body facing Ted, I couldn't look him in the eye. "You were talking. You were talking a-and I'm not gonna stare at you the entire fucking time you're talking. That's weird. Like-like what am I, a fuckin' owl?? Just staring at you?? No, you have other places--I have other places I have to look when someone's speaking! Doesn't mean I want to-mmmh--"

My ramblings are interrupted by the feeling of Ted's lips pressing against mine gently, one of his hands moving to my waist with the other resting upon my cheek. For a moment, I'm frozen in time. He's kissing me. He's kissing me again. There's no camera's and he's kissing me. I can't think straight. I can't think...at all.

That moment when you kiss someone

and everything around you becomes hazy...

And the only thing in focus is you and this person.

I allow my body to relax and return the gentle kiss, closing my eyes to slip into this intimacy fully. Ted pulls me in closer to deepen the kiss, almost hungrily so, like he's been waiting just as long as I have to be together again. By the time I got comfortble enough to move one of my hands, Ted breaks the kiss, keeping his hands on me. I open my eyes to meet his affectionate gaze, my lips still slightly parted from the kiss. Any and all anxiety I had been feeling has just disappeared. I feel...assured.

"Is that what you wanted?.." He speaks to me quietly with a light nod, slowly caressing my cheek with his thumb. I tried. I really tried. I tried not to 'catch feelings', I told Joe I wasn't sleeping with him, but my god do I want his lips on mine. I want to kiss him. I want him close. I want him to be mine, even just for tonight. I don't want him to leave. "I don't know.." I admit with a quiet giggle, lightly biting my lower lip. "You...might have to do it again...or a couple more times...just to see."

"A couple more, eh?.." Ted smirks deviously, moving his hand to firmly grab my jaw, keeping me still so I can't turn away this time. "You sure you want that? With everyone here?"

"'Everyone'? Please..." I playfully scoff at him, glancing down at his blush toned lips once more before gazing into his earthy eyes. "There's no cameras in here, Ted.."

Ted's smile grows, shaking his head a little at me before leaning in to kiss me once more. A satisfied purr leaves him when I don't hesitate to kiss him back this time. I once again find myself on cloud nine, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him into a deeper kiss. He moves his hand from my jaw so he can hold my waist with both hands, pulling me in closer to press his body against mine. He tilts his head more in the deep kiss, and I feel his tongue once again lightly glide along my lower lip. I slowly open my mouth to allow his tongue to move along mine, hearing him quietly snicker in the kiss in response. God, he's hot, and he knows it. He must know it.

When the kiss begins to pick up even more, I let a quiet moan escape me, bringing my hands down to cup his face. This makes him pull from the kiss briefly to look at me once again, his eyes lingering on my lips. My face once again feels like it's on fire and the butterflies certainly haven't left my stomach, but I know I want him. I know.

"That's so cute.." Ted purrs lowly and pulls me back into the passionate kiss, keeping up the pace from before. I felt his thumbs caressing my waist through the light fabric of my nightgown as I hungrily latch onto his blush toned lips, just like I desired to in his truck. He's mine. He's mine I say to myself as I pull him onto the bed with me. It's the only coherent thing running through my mind.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

We waste no time. Ted and I move up a bit in the bed, our lips staying locked together until my head finally hits the pillow. His glasses eventually fall off his face and gently lands on mine. "Fuck.." Ted mutters with a light chuckle, taking his glasses and placing them on my nightstand. I giggle as he returns to the arousing kiss, a muffled moan escaping him. My cheeks and hands feel warm and the only sounds between us are our heavy breathing and our longing kiss. My arms once again wrap around Ted's neck when I feel him press his body against me once more, lightly picking at the back of his blue shirt.

"Patience, princess.." Ted whispers against my lips, planting one last deep kiss on my lips before beginning to travel little kisses to my neck. I take in a sharp breath, stiffening up once I feel his lips on my sensitive neck. "I've been patient enough. Take it off.." I grunt at him, starting to pull his shirt up a little with my nails. He lets out a mocking chuckle and pulls away so he can remove his shirt, simply throwing it somewhere in the room before returning to me, picking apart the buttons of my nightgown. I notice the silver chain he has around his neck, running my hands along anywhere I can touch him. I don't have the energy to feel embarrassed about my body, I feel like I'm burning up anyways, everywhere feels so hot, and the only thing that can cool it down is his touch. His touch. His touch...

He gets my nightgown off of me and throws it somewhere before latching back onto my neck. A more audible moan leaves me, but I quickly cover my mouth, quietly reminding myself that we're not alone in this house. The reminder doesn't last when I feel his hand sneak its way into my pajama shorts, sliding a finger in between my sensitive folds. I gasp and instinctively grab his arm, and I feel him grin against me. He's moving through this so fast, yet I have no real desire to stop him. "E-Easy.." I moan quietly, my whole body stiffening up when his thumb finds my clit. A jolt of pleasure surges through my thighs, I can feel my bud and my entrance reacting to his touch, pulsing, wanting, urging for it. Somehow, somehow, he knows exactly where to touch me.

"You were aaalll talk..." Ted purrs against my skin, moving up from my neck to look me in the eyes once more. He slides his hand away from my core to tug my pajama shorts down enough to be able to touch me freely. His fingers once again move between my folds, watching my physical reactions with amusement. "God, I've wanted to shut you up. You talk too fuckin' much." As he purrs at me, two of his fingers find my entrance and slowly slide into me, a gasp releasing from me. I playfully glare at him and bring my hand up to grab the back of his head, tangling my fingers in his dark locks before pulling him into a deep, sloppy kiss. I hadn't felt how wet he had really made me until now, his fingers effortlessly pumping inside of me. Everything he did to me felt so good and the only thing I could do was let him. I managed to slide my free hand down to feel him from over his sweatpants, and was he good and hard for me. I feel him groan in the kiss, and I snicker at him. I couldn't wait to take him. I knew it'd be even harder to control my voice once he was inside me. I wanted it. I wanted it so bad.

Ted's fingers leave my entrance and I feel him leave my essence along my thighs so he can hold himself up with both arms, breaking the kiss to once again guide his lips down to my neck, only this time he keeps moving. I feel my face getting hotter, instinctively bringing a hand up to touch my cheek and run my fingers through my hair. I'm a hot mess, I feel Ted's lips move further and further down my body, lapping up my breasts like he's worshipping me. "You needed this as much as I did, eh?" I manage to speak up in a soft tone, smiling ear to ear when I feel him spread my legs.

"I don't need your fuckin' commentary.." Ted growls in between my breasts, making a quiet giggle escape me.

"You can't shut me up, Theo."

"Yeah? You think thats what I'm doin'?" Ted's kisses reach my lower stomach before he readjusts himself to lift my legs up to sort of sit around his shoulders, his head now perfectly between my legs. When his lips and his tongue meet my inner thighs I feel my belly flutter with nerves and excitement, bringing one hand up to lightly bite my knuckle while the other rests on my lower belly.

He nibbles at my inner thighs before finally moving further in, allowing his tongue to slide in between my sensitive folds, my budding clit immediately reacting when the tip of his warm tongue glides along it. I reel my head back and moan out as he takes full control of my body from my core, taking in all of my alluring essence in his mouth. I feel like my body is being sucked out of my soul, like he's secretly been an incubus all this time, a master of a woman's body. He's commanding me to feel bouts of pleasure I've never experienced with a man before and I can feel my core aching for more and more. My hand reaches down further to grip his tall dark hair, a pleasurable laugh escaping me as he laps me up like a desperate hound aching for scraps. I can hear him moaning between my legs, his hands gripping my thighs and pulling me into him more. Ted's tongue dances inside me, subtly slipping along my entrance to taste my every desire more and more. I can feel his pointy chin lower down, his stubble against my folds, his lips massaging at my own, he just doesn't stop. His tongue finds my now throbbing clit over and over and over, back and forth, back and forth. My body is left, wanting, begging, pleading, praying for release until it finally pours out.

"Ted! Ted!! Oh my fucking god--Yes, Yes! Yes like that! I--"

It starts at my clit and spreads all across my body, Ted having to hold my thighs to keep me balanced. I struggle to hold in the never-ending waterfall of moans pouring out of me, so I slap my hand over mouth and moan into it as much as my body will allow. I'm absolutely drunk with pleasure and it feels like it could last for infinity. I stretch out my ankles and my hands as my orgasm crashes over my entire body, the overwhelming pleasure surging up into my brain, making me roll my eyes back and close them. I remove my hand from my mouth when I start to come down from its peak, letting him hear my desperate whimpers as the high of my orgasm starts to fade, leaving my clit feeling warm and sore. I've been aching for this all week, and finally, finally, I'm feeling all of this tension start to come undone. That might've been the most intense orgasm I've ever been given, and yet, he wasn't done with me.

I hear Ted moan to himself, watching with tired eyes as he wipes his mouth with his free hand. I got a glimpse at how wet I truly was, but I didn't even need it, I could feel it, especially when he fully pulled away from my thighs and the light air hit them, my essence had spread nearly everywhere after how he ate me out, and I loved it. "I can't get enough of you.." Ted purred, coming face to face with me once more so he could pull me into a hungry kiss. Even despite such a strong surge of pleasure, I can feel my body pleading for more, my core aching for Ted to finish what he started. It was agonizing not having him inside me yet. I was ready now more than ever. I was so desperate, I'd do anything he wanted me to just to feel him. I felt like I was under a spell, but truthfully, it was just from good fucking head.

"Please. Please.." I beg to him in the kiss, cupping his face with a needy moan escaping me when he breaks from the kiss to work at removing his sweatpants. "See? Couldn't shut you up even if I wanted to.." Ted grins devishly at me, leaning down to kiss and nibble at my jaw. A satisfied smile spreads along my face, leaning my head back and closing my eyes to continue enjoying his intimate touch.

"You're the one doing all the talking.." I moan softly

"You're the one makin' all the fuckin' noise." Ted grunts when he finally gets his sweatpants off, pulling back for a moment to toss them aside before returning to my body. "As much as I like hearing you flap your fuckin' lips all day..." Ted pulls me in closer by my legs, a surprised but excited gasp leaving me, causing me to briefly look down. My god, his size is perfect for me. All of that is going to fit so good inside me, I shudder out a breath and lock eyes with Ted once more. "...I like making you squirm even more." Ted towers his body over mine, holding himself up with one arm while holding my hips with the other.

I feel my entrance aching for him to fill it, a blushing mess when I feel him glide his shaft along my soaking wet folds, the tip brushing along my already sensitive bud from earlier. I moan out in surprise, closing my eyes for a moment and giggling. "Yeah? I bet.." I purr, opening my eyes to gaze at Ted once more, gliding my tongue along my upper lips. "You better not be all--" I close my eyes and moan suddenly when I feel his length push into my entrance, feeling every curve and edge shape around my tight walls like his cock was made for me; actually made for me.

When I feel he's completely in, there's a moment where neither of us move or say anything. I open my eyes and see him looking at me, face to face once more. I lock eyes with his earthy orbs, the only noise between us being the sounds of our desperate panting. It's the first and only moment of the night where we slip past our passionate embrace to truly process what's about to change between us. We certainly can't go back now. That timer hit zero nearly a good hour ago. This is what we are now.

Ted gives me a tired smile to reassure me that he wants this, a quiet chuckle leaving me in response before I feel him start to move his hips. His pace is gentle at first, not too slow, really taking in how wet I've become because of him. Every moment our gazes would lock, every moment I could feel his breath on me, every flirtatious insult, every comment, every glance; it all felt like it was leading up to this. Every thrust felt like the pleasurable unwrapping of all of this tension I've been burdened with. My core was sending pleasing signals up my body and down my legs every time his hips rubbed against mine, thanking me for finally letting this man take me. My god, have I been waiting for him to take me, aching for it. It's all I can think about now. The pleasure, the pleasure.

I hear my name in a whisper from Ted's gravely tone, feeling Ted adjust his body to be sitting up more, one of his hands nearly gripping my shoulder with the other on my hip, pulling me into his increasingly rougher thrusts. My breasts jolt and bounce with every rock of the bed, hearing it lightly squeak beneath us as his length pumps inside me. I can feel my thighs shivering with excitement, my lower belly tingling for more. My judgement is beginning to be clouded by just how nicely he's fucking me, having a troubling time keeping my voice down with every pulse of satisfaction through me.

"Ohh, Theo.." I let out a girlish moan, bending my legs up a little more to adjust the angle to my liking, feeling him pick up his pace in response. He moved both hands to my hips so he can really work himself into me, grinding his hips against mine out of desperation. The veins of his throbbing shaft are massaging me so nicely, I know my essence is practically drenching it. My arousal is spreading further and further through my veins, a particular curved thrust from Ted causing my body to jolt with pleasure.

"Oh my god--Ted, Yes! Ted! Yes! Yes! Whatever you just did, I--I need that, I need it, I need it.." All of my thoughts and feelings have been taken over by Ted's body, begs and pleads beginning to pour out of me at such an alarming rate, yet I can't stop myself. I can't shut myself up. Ted is taking every last coherent thought with every deep thrust, and I just have to take it. He gets to use me for as long as he wants, and I have to take it. I want to take it.

Ted forces my legs upwards more until my knees are nearly touching my breasts, his own sighs and groans of pleasure mixing in with my own. He hides his face in my neck and really begins to put his all into me, the sound of his hips smacking into mine getting louder with every swift pump of his cock. I wrap my arms and legs around his body the best I can, finally able to work my fingers through his dark hair as I cry out for him. I can't control myself. All I feel is his length pumping inside me, his cold chain against my chest, his stubble scratching my cheek, his voice purring and moaning in my ear like a desperate animal in heat, finally satisfying his carnal desires. My walls tighten around him, my sensitive bud throbs for him, my thighs are shivering, my body is aching, all for him. It's all for him.

"Theo! Theo! Right there, right there, right there right there!" Is nearly all I can whimper out for him, practically crying out when I feel my body ready itself for release. I'm gripping and pulling at his hair with one hand and gripping his bare back with the other, both of my legs locked around him, trapping his cock inside me. His hips slam against mine over and over and over, I can't comprehend anything except the pleasure. Ted. Ted. Teddy...

Eventually it's all too much for my mind to comprehend. I don't even have the energy to let him know I'm cumming, I just cry out for him to not stop fucking me. He pulls away from my neck to connect our foreheads when I pull at his hair roughly. I don't care if anyone hears us. Let them hear. All that's in focus is the second and finale orgasm Ted allows my body to reach for the night, elevated when I feel his warm seed flow into me. My whole body shudders and I'm able to let out a few shaky moans, his last desperate thrusts to empty himself deep inside me causing my eyes to once again roll back briefly, fully and completely satisfied by him.

I don't feel Ted pull out right away. With my eyes closed, I feel the bed stop moving first All of my senses start slowly returning. I feel our warm, sticky bodies pressed against one another, I feel our hot breathes mixing as we try to steady our heavy panting, I feel a cold wetness spread along my folds and up my inner thighs, but most of all, I just feel...relieved.

I open my eyes to see Ted's tired gaze, watching as he comes down from the same high. That's when he finally decided to pull out, a quiet moan leaving us both. My sense of awareness and judgement are the last thing to return to me and I briefly wonder just how loud we both may have been, but any worries melt away when Ted's lips meet mine once again. He kisses me with passion and care, letting out a pleased hum in the kiss before pulling away to move off of me.

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I unwrap my arms and legs from his body so he can lay down beside me, both of us just staring up at the ceiling while continuing to try and catch our breath. If this were some passionate seen in a TV show or movie, this is where the next scene would cut to: the aftermath. I'm a mess, he's a mess, and yet we're both too tired to care. I had nothing to worry about in regards to how Ted finished, I was already on birth control, he knew this. I turn my head to look at him and blush to myself, turning my body a little in his direction. He looks at me and gives me a weak but reassuring smile, not hesitating to pull me into his arms. I was glad that he was willing to stay and hold me, partially because my side of the bed was now drenched and damp, but also because I wanted him here. I wanted him to stay. He manages to get the light comforter over our bodies to keep them warm, wrapping his arms around me for the night.

Not a word was spoken, nothing more needed to be said.

We both quietly agreed to fall asleep together and discuss everything the morning.

__________________________________

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 (smut) || Chapter 15 || Chapter 16 || Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 (smut) ||

#ted nivison #chuckle sandwhich #ted nivison x reader #jschlatt #ted nivison fanfic #ted nivison x you #ted nivison smut #ted nivison lemon #ted nivison x reader smut #AllARomCom

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violetsiren90 · 5 months ago

Text

New Rules | Don't let him in.

Table of Contents: Teaser (Prologue); Don't pick up the phone; Don't let him in

Pairing: f*ck boi!Jisung x f!Reader; Jisung x Minho

Genre: choose your own adventure; drabble/vignette series; angst and smut; f*ck buddies; college/post grad

Summary: Jisung has had you wrapped around his finger for the last half-decade. You know good and well that it's time to move on…but you can never seem to follow your own rules long enough to shake him.

*Based on the lyrics of "New Rules" by Dua Lipa

Content warnings: 18+ (minors, dni) Explicit smut; toxic relationship; characters commit sexual acts after having partaken in controlled substances (themes continued from previous chapter); Minho touches reader intimately without asking for consent (not against her will, but still, no check-in); masturbation; flashbacks/backstory; lust and resentment; possessive Minho; cum on a character from a previous sexual encounter; super brief spanking; cursing; name calling: slut - sexual, derogatory(?); subby Jisung; kissing/making out; oral sex (f. receiving); face-sitting; female orgasm; lots of conflicting and negative feelings; drunkenness and vomiting; are we in some unhealthy territory here, folks.

Word Count: ~1700

Author's Note: Well, things are getting darker and messier. 🖤 I want to ask that any readers please review the content warnings before partaking! Thank you for everyone who's voted so far!! I absolutely love that you all chose to involve Minho in this, because the dynamic brewing here is something else. Remember to vote in the pole at the bottom of the fic if you'd like to help decide where these characters go from here! 😊

As always, if no one has told you today, please know that you're loved, and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

You'll have to kick him out again.

Three dragging raps against the door of your hotel room pull your head from the pillow and the rest of your body follows lethargically, weighed down by champagne and dejection. You bumble into a pair of sweat pants and sag against the door momentarily before pushing up on your tiptoes to press an eye to the peephole.

Mother fucking asshole.

“What do you want, Jisung?” you bark venomously, not reaching for the lock.

His brow furrows and he steps back, stumbling. Clearly, he’s made equal use of the open bar.

“Howdya know it was me?” he slurs, eyes wide in slow-witted confusion.

“I can see you through the peephole, moron,” you sneer.

His lips tug down into a pout, the kind that makes him look like a sad, injured puppy. You know them all, the manipulatively emotive masks of expression. It’s been a while though, and you can’t be sure this particularly somber scowl isn’t genuine. No, you know. It doesn’t matter if the offense he’s taken is real, the things he’ll say once he crosses the threshold won’t be. And you can’t fucking do it again. Not tonight.

You slide down the door onto flat feet and turning to press your back against the glossy eggshell paint of its surface.

You’d known he’d be at Chaeryeong and Changbin’s wedding, and you had been tempted to just send a gift out of the sheer desire to simply avoid this moment. But part of you wanted to see him. Wanted to see if he had found someone new - or if the hand that had once kept him just out of your reach still held him in its grasp. You wanted…closure, if you were being honest with yourself. A reason to move on. But of course, he’d come solo, and refused to make eye contact with you for the for the entirety of cocktail hour. Then, significantly later into the evening, you’d felt a familiar gaze burn into your breasts, your ass, the back of your exposed neck. So you’d left before you could get drunk enough to backslide onto his cock; which, should history prove exemplary, would be two shots of tequila from where your BAC currently stood.

You feel a thump against the door, and you hear his voice, closer now, like he’s leaning against it.

“Miss you.”

“No, you don’t,” you counter, with a heaving sigh.

“You don’t…hey…”

“Get out, Jisung.”

You hear him push himself off the door and shuffle over the carpet, then he thumps back against the door hard enough to jostle you.

“Just let me…use your bathroom. I’ll l-leave.”

But he never leaves. He stays, poisonously yet addictively parasitic until you carve him out like a cancer, taking so much of you with him every goddamn time.

Jisung was still panting against Minho’s chest, cum slipping slowly down his heaving belly when he opened his eyes and saw you that night all those years ago. He didn’t speak or move, jaw hanging open and eyes locked on yours as Minho leaned up to murmur whispers onto the shell of the his ear. You watched as Jisung’s eyes slid to down your body, a delicious pulse shuddering through you, and suddenly you became aware of your own fingers against your clit. You blinked down through the haze of heat and substance, to see your skirt lifted and your hand pressed to your messy cunt. You pulled it away to steady yourself against the edge of the bar.

Minho licked his lips as they stretched into a smirk, hitching the younger man up by his hips and onto his feet, pants still shoved around his thighs and his wet cock growing soft above their open waistband. Minho slowly stood, his palm sharply cracking against the bare flesh of Jisung’s ass, spilling a whimper from his lips and causing him to stumble forward, his shirt falling down over cum-slicked skin as he fumbled to tug up his jeans. The senior stalked toward where you swayed on your feet, crowding you as his hand grasped the side of your waist. As his eyes bored into yours you felt like a little quivering creature in a jar - his gaze searing past your retinas and into the dark recesses of your being where he dissected you bit by bit. His cold, steady hand slid down your hip and over your thigh, pushing your skirt up to impassively cup your sex. You let out a shuddering moan, your eyes squeezing shut. Minho chuckled darkly.

“Hmh - such a needy pussy. All puffy and wet…” he purred condescendingly above you. “Hannie baby will take care of that, right?” his hand dragged up your body to take your jaw in his pretty, powerful fingers, still damp with your arousal. Your trembled in his grasp as he pulled back to regard you with a smirk. “Remember, though - sweet, stupid little slut - you can play with that cock all you want…but I own it. Capeesh?”

You sucked in a breath and he released your chin with a hum, patting your cheek before slipping his hand into his pocket and strolling around you. You heard the sliding glass door open and shut. Jisung glanced up at you, running his hand through his hair.

“I…Jisung…”

“You’re not wearing panties,” he muttered with a swallow, his eyes on the rumpled fabric obscuring your sticky want.

“What?” you breathed.

His eyes darted up to yours.

“You liked it - watching. Didn’t you?” His voice shook as he asked. It was such a raw question - not taunting, like Minho’s had been. He was hoping. Begging.

As you watched him shuffle forward, still fumbling with the button of his jeans, you remembered his face as he came. You remembered Minho’s eyes. A fragrant, poisonous hunger bloomed to life in your belly. You surged toward Jisung, daydreams forgotten - shoving him and causing him to stumble back, eyes going wide with surprise. Alarm bells sounded somewhere in your skull, and you look down at the tremor in your hands. You didn’t recognize them. You didn’t recognize the voice that came out of your mouth.

“You’re pathetic.”

He froze, lips parting as he drank in the venom of your tone.

“Baby…” he murmured, stepping toward you cautiously.

“Don’t call me that,” you clipped, your lip quivering as your heart thrummed like a frantic hummingbird trapped inside your chest. “He called you that.”

His brows knitted, as if unsure if your words held accusation or question. He didn’t ask. Just as well. You didn’t know. Some thorny thing weaving its way around your soul tore at the innocence of your longing.

His pupils were swallowing his irises as he raised his hand to touch your cheek. His brows drew together again, but this time with a desperation so intense it was erotic. You were soaked. He leaned in and kissed your lips, and you let him. You moved your hands up to grip the sides of his shirt. He was a needy, messy kisser, and it fed the thing burning inside you that loathed and lusted with equal relish.

He dipped his hand between you to brush his fingers over your drenched folds and he groaned into your mouth. Someone stirred on the loveseat off to the right and you choked on a moan.

“Not here…” you shoved him off.

The next thing you knew your knees were kissing the harsh chill of the downstairs bathroom tiles as his mouth kissed your cunt. Your nails pressed dully into the palm of your hand through the barrier of your bunched up skirt, pulled away to afford your eyes the sight of his face between your thighs. Your other hand gripped the edge of the counter for dear life as you fought to stay upright through the overwhelming pleasure of his languid laps against your sex.

“Fuck…oh, fuck…” you whined and he whimpered against you in response, sending a buzzing vibration through you that had your body screaming out for more. You tucked the hem of your skirt into the band and reached down to part your folds with your fingers, presenting him with your flushed, swollen heat. Immediately latching onto your clit, he sucked as though his survival depended on it, and you wailed up to the ceiling, grinding down over his greedy lips and tongue.

You came against his mouth, but that wasn’t what you remembered on feverish nights thereafter. You remembered the churning in your stomach and the burning in your thighs and the drug of his gaze, heady and addictive as you smothered him, injecting itself into your veins.

You push to a stand against the hotel door, legs shaking. You want it. You need it. Just one more time.

You open the door but he pushes past you, stumbling into the bathroom and collapsing in front of the toilet.

You let out a hissing sigh, leaning against the door frame as he wretches. Perhaps this memory of his body rolling to its back on a tile floor will push away the one that’s haunted your fantasies. Perhaps. But that’s now how it’s seemed to work thus far. He raises himself up to vomit again and leave him there, tossing yourself back into bed.

Pulling the door open to a gentle knock, you recognize Changbin’s best man.

“Hi,” he grins at you sympathetically as you open it further, “One of the groomsmen said there was someone who needed a helping hand back to their room?”

He’s effortlessly handsome in his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, tie discarded in favor of an open neck. The smile he’s sporting which presses a dimple into his cheek could likely melt tungsten at ten percent intensity. Your mouth goes a bit dry and when you swallow, it tastes like shame. You glance at Jisung laying in front of the sink.

“Uh, yeeah..” you blink, shuffling back to grant him entry.

He ambles in and peeks his head into the bathroom before turning back to you with a little furrow between his brows.

“You okay?”

You wish this stranger would immediately stop looking at you with those brown eyes - the kind that seem to scan you for weaknesses without a single predatory intention. You cross your arms over your chest and duck your head. You wish you liked it, those eyes on you - a gaze that promised nurture and healing. But you know who you are, what you crave.

“It’s been a long night. Thanks…”

“Chris,” he offers as he pulls Jisung up to a stand. You think he smiles again, but you’re not looking.

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thatmexisaurusrex · 5 months ago

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You know why I know this isn't about a fucking ship war? Because most of the people I talk to are okay with all the ships. Because I've recently been trying to check on the people I know who are in this fandom, the people I feel like I can reach out to, and making sure they're okay. Because it's terrible out here. And people can hide behind the guise of ship war when it's a section of fuckers who want to make anyone who doesn't agree with them wholeheartedly miserable. I don't care if you hate a ship. I don't care if you hate a character. I do care about the homophobia and the bullshit that I've seen. I care about the MLM who don't feel safe here. And I care about enablers who hide behind fucking excuses instead of owning up to the parts they played in bringing the fandom to where we're at. I don't do fucking much here. I really don't. I send nice asks sometimes. I talk about a fic I'm going to write. I post about a fic I'm going to write. I will highlight the bullshit sometimes, but not because I've searched for it, but because it comes to my fucking door. It comes to my door when you call me a fag and worse. It comes to my fucking door when you send me an entire CSA fic in my inbox. It's not a ship war. It's people hiding behind the guise of a fucking ship war to avoid the repercussions of their actions. To make it an us vs them when most folks are normal people just trying to enjoy the flying bouncy castle emergency show. The pulling a tapeworm out of a butt show. The man loses the ability to control his arm and whacky hijinks ensue show. Fuck your ship war. I was not part of it. Fuck your harassment. I didn't deserve it. No one did. People need to fucking crack down on this behavior. It's been going too far for months.

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sammy8d257 · 25 days ago

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A Thursday Afternoon - An AvA/M fic

Written by Sammy8D257

Part of the Watered Down Hot Chocolate: A Melted Marshmallows Side Story But can also be read on its own

Word Count: 755

CW: Parental Arguing

Summary: A Thursday afternoon in the Grove household during the Blackfire Attacks.

(I wrote half of this before AvA 11 came out, then the episode premiered and I went insane and finished it in 3 hours)

[Ao3 Ver.]

=o=

[... -ank you for listening to 96.8 The Point, your one-stop station for everything radio… ]

Your family's portable radio sits on your kitchen counter. It's light blue in color and its long silver antenna is pointed towards an open window leading to the backyard.

[... From music to news to weather, we provide it all for your listening pleasure. I'm your host, Turquoise Grandeur, here to talk about the latest Interweb news… ]

You blink slowly, your eyes slightly burning from how long you've been staring at its dials. The radio is on today. You usually don't mind because the music the station plays is fun to listen to while you do your homework. But today…

[...Our top story is the recent attacks that have been happening to various websites across the world wide web…]

You stare down at the worksheet in front of you. It's an equations page that your teacher assigned to your class.

Only half the page is completed and the rest you stare at, your pencil taps lightly on the corner of the page.

[... Most notably, the Yahoo! home page as well as various forums have been targeted, leaving widespread panic and destruction in the aftermath…]

You don't want to do this but you have to. You get to go somewhere fun when it's done.

"-really, Blue? Purple has been looking forward to this all week! We promised we'd take them!"

You sigh. Your parents are in the other room but you can just barely hear them from your seat at the table. The radio isn't loud enough today.

"Orchid you can't be serious. Look at what's going on right now! Do you honestly believe going to a popular and crowded place is what we should be doing? I know you listen to the news just as much as I do!"

"Oh please, I'm not ignorant!"

[... Witnesses have coined the phrase "Blackfire Attacks" for these attacks, citing the heavy presence of fire and black smoke in each case…]

You scratch a doodle of a bird into the bottom right page corner. You wonder if birds sound different at an amusement park.

"With the way you're acting you could have fooled me!"

"Excuse me?! How dare you! I am not going to just stand here and be name-called just because I want to make sure our child can still enjoy life!"

[... The attackers have still yet to be identified but eyewitness testimonies cite glimpses of 2 hollow head stick figures, one black and one bright red, on scene…]

You add a tree for the bird to perch on. You wonder how many fries they steal.

"They can enjoy life when the possibility of all of our lives aren't being threatened!"

"You're unbelievable!"

"I don't even know why you're so mad at me! If anything, I should be mad that you're restricting our training hours!"

[... The motives behind these attacks have not been identified but the safety council advises folks to avoid popular sites ports for the time being… ]

Moments later and your dad storms into the kitchen. He's muttering something you can't make out under his breath. Your mom trails in after him. Her face is furrowed in displeasure, her mouth a hard line.

You stare at them.

They don't notice you.

[... If you have any information regarding the Blackfire attacks, please report it to your local-]

Your dad grabs the radio, moves it to the open window sill and exits out the backyard door.

Your mom sighs, turns, and startles when she meets your gaze.

"Little Sprout! Have you been here the whole time?"

You nod and look down at your worksheet.

Your mom says a word you're not allowed to say yet and walks up behind you.

She gently places her arms around you in a hug.

"I'm sorry Purple, I don't think we'll be able to go to that 'Cool Math Games' amusement park this weekend. It's just… not safe at the moment. But I promise we'll all go together when it's better, alright?"

You feel

mad, hollow, sad, upset, frustrated,

disappointed.

Your finger traces the bird you drew. Your mom is still waiting for an answer.

"Okay."

She squeezes you again and then backs away further into the kitchen.

Outside a light blue radio is playing, its music barely covering up the sounds of your dad training.

Inside the stove top exhaust fans turn on, your mom starts humming a tune.

Here at the table, you stare down at your equations sheet.

It's only halfway complete.

You'll finish it tomorrow.

#Sammy8D writes #alan becker #animation vs minecraft #AvA fanfic #avm shorts #AvM Fanfic #AvM Purple #AvA Regular Blue #AvA Orchid #AvA Cobalt #AvAM Watered Down Hot Chocolate #AvAM WDHC Melted Marshmallow #AvAM WDHC MM #AvAM WDHC #Sammy8D Stick Stuff

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staybabblingbaby · 4 months ago

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Soulmate Garden AU Ch.2 (Anemone) a3d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 4,218

Notes: I don't feel like the summary completely matches this story anymore. I'm also not really satisfied with this chapter, but I'm too tired to really get into a whole bunch of drafts and edits, I've just really been feeling poorly lately. The archive is for writing progress anyways, it's fine. I'll probably rewrite this whole chapter if I ever get to where I'd be comfortable posting finished versions to Ao3. I'm also just not fond of my writing style somehow. It feels too formal, doesn't flow enough. Problem is that I really talk like that lmao. Idk, I'll figure it out.

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part

Bangchan clambered into the van behind Felix, Minho and Jisung loading into the row in front of them. It always felt a bit weird to not spend some time swapping seatmates around based on who was clinging to who at the moment, but on days like today it was easier to just board the vehicles as quick as possible.

He's ended up with a relatively quite combination of their cluster today, and Chan was grateful for it as he settled into his seat with a pained grimace.

He wasn’t sure when it had started, but a persistent on-and-off pain had been roaming around his back for the last twenty minutes as they’d said goodbye to Stays and prepared to leave the venue. He’d be more worried about it, except the sharp, needle-like, pains would settle into a gentler ache before kicking back up again.

As it was, Chan was pretty sure he’d pinched a nerve or strained something and would simply rest when he got back to the hotel. Maybe call up the PT. For now, as three of his soulmates settled in around him, Chan was content to leave it be.

Well, almost. Another twinge of pain makes him wince as he twists to buckle in, and Chan decides that maybe it’d be a good idea to know what he was working with. For comfort’s sake, if nothing else.

“Felix,” He prods the blond next to him, “Can you look at my back for me? I think I pinched something.” He motions toward his lower back, where the majority of the pain had been accumulating.

Felix immediately nods his acceptance, their group’s resident massage expert always willing to lend a hand. Especially if it let him lay hands on his very well built soulmates.

Chan scooches forward and rotates around, balancing with his hand on the headrest of the seat in front of him. He helps Felix shimmy his shirt upwards, struggling with it where it gets caught in the seat-belt.

Chan ends up stuck struggling on his own as Felix chooses that moment to direct his eyes and hands to the afflicted area.

“There’s your first issue,” Felix tuts, “You’ve left your concealment tape on. You’ll give yourself a rash one of these days, hyung.”

Chan gives a sheepish smile from where he’s managed to trap himself in a cloth prison. His head is free, and the shirt his appropriately bunched up over his shoulders and around his neck. Unfortunately, he hadn’t managed to free his hands, so he’s got a bit of a t-Rex thing going on right now. It’s fine.

“I forget it’s there,” he confesses with a whine, “I can’t see my own back, y’know?”

Felix rolls his eyes at their oh-so-glorious leader, carefully peeling the thin material away from Chan’s skin as he scolds, “You still need to take it off. We sweat way too much to not at least change it after a performance.”

He’s bunching up the extra-strength tape to maybe toss at Jisung in the front seat (maybe Minho, if he’s feeling very brave), when he spots something off.

More than half a decade into having found each other, the members of Stray Kids were intimately familiar with each other’s soulmarks. Every drop of color, every line, every curve.

So when Felix looks at the freshly uncovered canvas on Chan’s back, familiar trees, bushes, and rocks painting a forested landscape that describes their impact on their eldest, something new immediately catches his eye.

There, on the fallen log that bridged two banks of a crystal-clear creek, was a moss blanket and a cluster little shelf mushrooms. They added life to the previously defunct object, a little bit of color that couldn’t have been said to be missing until it wasn’t.

The closer Felix looked, the more he saw. A mushroom here, a mossy patch there. Little signs of life and decay that he could have sworn weren’t there the last time he looked.

He looks to Jisung, who’s blissfully unaware.

As the first of their cluster to paint Chan’s skin with color, he was the most familiar with their leader’s mark. Jisung had been too young for his own mark to have appeared when he’d met Chan, but that didn’t stop him from influencing their eldest’s. They all knew he’d spent a lot of time studying Chan’s mark (and Changbin’s when it had appeared, already partially colored in) while waiting for his own.

If there was anyone who’d be more than certain of a change in their soulmarks, it’d be Jisung.

Felix swiftly removes his hands from Chan’s back, earning him a little noise of confusion from the prone man, and reaches over to poke Jisung harshly in the side.

Jisung immediately flinches away from the offending fingers with a loud yelp, attracting the attention of Minho, who’d been peacefully scrolling on his phone. Jisung swiftly fixes Felix with an offended glare, ready to retaliate, but is cut off before he can even try.

“Look at Chan’s mark for me.” Felix demands.

“My mark?” Chan echoes, baffled and alarmed. “What’s wrong with my mark?”

“Nothing, hyung,” Felix assures, “I just need to check I’m not seeing things.”

A series of furtive, silent, and, on Felix’s part, urgent, gestures are exchanged before Jisung finally relents and leans around the back of his seat, grabbing Minho’s for balance as the van departs.

Jisung lazily traces his eyes over Chan’s soulmark. All of Stray Kids had huge marks, but Jisung privately thought that Chan had them all beat. His mark spanned his entire back, not an inch untouched by the image. From shoulder to hip was an oil painting of a mark, filled in from what used to be a desolate landscape to what was now a thriving forest.

Jisung used to think it was so overwhelming to be part of such a mark. To be loved so much, and so deeply. It was evident in every brushstroke of the image on Chan’s skin, and in every action of the man himself.

These days, he found great comfort in it.

He’d gotten so lost in thought as he studied his soulmate’s mark that Jisung had almost missed what had caught Felix’s attention in the first place. But sure enough, his eyes catch on the same log that Felix’s had.

“Oh.” He whispers to himself. “Oh.” He says again, as Minho shoves his head under Jisung’s arm to look himself.

“No, yeah, that’s different.” He confirms, Minho nodding against him, having already spotted it for himself. The two of them find their eyes glued to tiny mushrooms, only sparing a moment to glance at each other before returning their gaze to Chan’s skin, each with their own racing thoughts.

“I thought so.” Felix nods to himself.

“What?” Chan questions, becoming more alarmed by the second, “What’s going on? What’s happened? What’s wrong with my mark?”

Felix lays his palms flat on Chan’s back and begins to rub gentle, soothing, circles. Any changes to a soulmark were stressful at the best of times, and they all knew how much Chan treasured his.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Felix soothes, letting the warmth of Chan’s mark resonating with his touch calm them both as he searches for gentle words.

“It’s just,” He begins hesitantly, “Well, the good news is that you haven’t pinched or strained anything.”

“Good news?” Chan echoes, “Is there bad news?” He lets a nervous giggle fall from his lips even as he relaxes into Felix’s hands.

“Not necessarily?” Felix says uncertainly, “It’s just. Well. Your mark has changed.” He pauses a second and pulls out his phone, quickly snapping a picture and then passing it around so Chan can see. “Something’s been added.”

Felix lets the implication of his words sit untouched in the air as the three of them wait for Chan to process what this means.

Ironically, Chan was the least familiar with his own mark out of all of them. His and Minho’s both resided on their backs so it stood to reason that the two of them didn’t see their marks very often. So it was no surprise that it took Chan several, very long, moments to spot the tiny changes.

When he does, Chan pulls in a deep, stuttering breath. The pain is already fading out to an ache now that it’s been acknowledged and Chan isn’t sure how he feels about the extra confirmation.

He carefully pulls his shirt back down, breaking his soulmate’s line of sight like they hadn’t already burned the image onto their retinas. He doesn’t remove his eyes from Felix’s phone.

“I...” He trails off, “I have another soulmate?” His voice is filled with wonder as he marvels at the picture of his mark. He looks up at the rest of his soulmates currently in the van with awe. “We have another soulmate?”

“Yeah,” Minho whispers, voice choked with emotion, “Yeah it looks like it.”

Felix doesn’t wait for Chan to fully turn around before he’s pulling their leader into a bone-crushing hug, giddy, disbelieving, laughter spilling out of him even as tears prick at his eyes.

“Oh my god!” Felix celebrates quietly as Chan wiggles to return his hug just as tightly. “Oh my god.” The other man agrees.

Even as his soulmates celebrate around him, each feeling their own storm of emotions, Chan can’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.

Stray Kids was a uniquely large soul cluster. From the beginning, when it had become evident that Hannie wasn’t his only soulmate, it had caused issues. Then came Bin, and the rest had followed like dominos. Each time their circle expanded he’d thought “this has to be it, right?” and each time there was a little voice in the back of his mind saying, “No, not yet.”

The issue was that that feeling, that little voice saying ”not yet”, the knowledge that they weren’t complete, had never gone away.

By the time they had all met, none of them could spot anything obviously missing from their marks. All of them were completely colored, lines drawn, images complete. And yet, every one of them felt that hollowness of an incomplete bond.

They’d talked about it a lot. Individually, as a group, in pairs and in quartets and seemingly endless combinations. It was hard, as the years went by, to ignore that nagging feeling.

Chan would always remember Jeongin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night, crying and apologizing for not being enough. Could never forget taking Jisung to a rage room so they could both break down their feelings or drinking with Changbin and wondering if it was wrong for them to be so greedy as to want more when they already had so much.

After so many years, they’d begun to wonder if they were just broken. If they didn’t have another soulmate out there after all, and it was all in their heads.

It had been hard. It was hard.

And now that little blank space in his soul was painted with someone else’s colors and Chan felt whole in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experience.

It kind of made him want to cry.

He wanted to cry even more when Felix innocently asks, “So what were they like?” An unmatched eagerness in his eyes as Chan pulled away.

That one guileless question triggers a realization in Chan that has his groaning in despair and slumping forward back onto Felix’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Chan mumbles into the shoulder of the slighter man.

“What was that?” Jisung questions from where he and Minho were still turned toward him, obviously as curious as Felix.

“I said I don’t know!” Chan wails, wilting further into Felix’s frame.

“How do you not know?” Minho questions incredulously. Felix gasps as he connects dots he’d been too excited to before.

“I didn’t even know my mark had changed before now,” Chan explains miserably, “I don’t even know exactly when the pain started.”

Jisung sucks in a hiss of air, sympathy splashed across his face. “Oh geeze,” he breathes out, “How many people have we met today alone?”

“Ok, well,” Felix interjects, “Not ideal, but we’ll figure it out!”

Minho turns his incredulous stare onto the optimistic man.

"How are we going to figure it out?" He demands, "Because there were tens of thousands of people in that stadium and I know every single one of us shook dozens of hands tonight."

Felix wilts a little bit even as Jisung comes to his defense, "We kind of have to figure it out, hyung," he points out, "And soon. We're back to Seoul soon."

"Okay but how?" Minho challenges, "And don't give me any 'with the power of love and fate' crap."

"We might have to rely on fate." Chan shrugs, dejected. "It's not like I have a description or anything to give out."

"It'll be okay Channie hyung," Felix pats Chan's back lightly from where they're still entangled together, "It'll have to be."

The van descends into silence as the four of them contemplate their new situation. After a few minutes Chan leverages himself up and out of Felix's embrace to frown aimlessly at his knees.

"Well," Felix breaks the silence, "We don’t have any more shows after this, and we have some days of break time, right?”

“Right,” Chan confirms, “We have tomorrow off and then we’re returning to Seoul to start working on the next album.”

“But officially,” Felix hedges, “We have, like, an entire week off, don’t we?”

“Not quite, but sure,” Chan hesitantly agrees.

“Well, we know they were in town for the concert at least,” Felix continues, “So as long as they didn’t leave the city immediately after, I mean, there's seven more first contacts to go, right?”

“Are you saying we should spend our break wandering around trying for first contacts?” Jisung asks, “Because I’m all for searching for them, but I don’t know that aimless wandering is gonna help.”

Chan holds up his hands to halt that conversation before it could devolve into a bigger debate.

“Let’s shelve that for now, and meet up with the others at the hotel,” He suggests, “We should discuss this as a group anyways.”

He receives a variety of agreements and the four of them settle in for the short remaining drive back to their hotel. He absently hands Felix’s phone back to him and retrieves his own from his pocket to ask the others to meet them in his room.

Chan looks out the window, post-concert fatigue all but a memory. As the buildings pass by, he can’t help but hope that their mystery soulmate was looking for them too.

You reaffirm your decision to never ever meet your soulmates as Taylor loads you into the car, arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder the whole way.

It was one thing when your stupidly large soul cluster was just an idea. Knowledge you held, but unactionable in any way.

It was another when you had evidence, in the form of little white flowers burning with warmth on your skin, that they were real, physical, people.

Even worse when you knew that they were a group of very famous musicians.

You hadn’t actually been sick when you’d texted Taylor, who’d thankfully managed to get all of the autographs he’d wanted before he’d checked his phone to try to find you, but you were getting there. Anxiety had nausea creeping up your throat like molasses.

You’re beyond grateful when your roommate doesn’t question your sudden illness, the both of you well aware that you were hale and hearty when you’d left the house.

Taylor just buckles you in like you’re something precious and fragile and takes the wheel.

The two of you drive in silence the entire way home. It’s not awkward, but you can’t deny the weight of something heavy in the air. The buzz of the concert still lingered between the two of you, and it only made the silence stifling and itchy.

When you pull into your apartment complex neither of you speak for a long moment.

“Sorry for ruining the day.” You murmur to the air in front of you. Taylor just reaches over to pat your thigh and unclip your seatbelt.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” He assures, “Don’t sweat it.” He hesitates a moment before continuing.

“I’m not gonna push,” Taylor begins gently, “But you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever happened, I’m not gonna judge. I just wanna be here for you.”

“What makes you think something happened?” You mutter mulishly. Taylor just gives you a look that has you sinking into your seat.

“It’s nothing. I’m just being dramatic.” You admit. He bumps your shoulder with his and climbs out of the car.

“It’s not nothing if it makes you feel something.” He tells you as he goes. The two of you walk up to the apartment in silence, contemplative this time.

You think about telling him as the two of you separate to wash the concert off of yourselves. You think about it as you take turns using the bathroom and as you make dinner side by side. You think about it as you settle in front of the couch at his feet as his hands automatically pull your head to his knees, his fingers digging into your hair just how you like.

You want to tell him, you decide. You do. It's just that. Well...

Your sister was right, in a way. You’d known Taylor for over a year now, but the two of you didn’t really know much about each other. You really were just roommates.

You didn’t know what his favorite color was. You didn’t know the names of his parents, or if he had any siblings. You barely knew what he did for a living. He’d only ended up your roommate by virtue of you responding to his “roommate wanted” ad with full willingness to be murdered on the spot.

At the same time, the two of you knew everything about each other. You knew how he took his coffee in the morning, that he preferred his eggs dry and over-seasoned. You knew the bands he liked and the games he played. You knew his hobbies better than you knew your own sometimes, and more about his friend’s drama that you ever wanted to.

You know the important things, you think.

You know that every word you tell him in confidence will be clutched tightly all the way to the grave.

“I met my soulmate today.” You confess, your cheek pressed to his knee, half-asleep.

The words somehow feel like they were snatched from the darkest depths of your soul as they spill from your lips. You make no move to take them back.

Taylor’s hand, to his credit, only pauses for a moment. Then he treats your hushed admission like any other comment made while you nod off to dramas the both of you know you only watch for him, resuming the soothing movement of his hand and humming lightly to acknowledge you.

You think it’s that casual treatment that lets you find the courage to continue.

“Well, one of them anyway.” You mumble. Taylor hums his interest, but doesn't take his eyes off of the screen and doesn’t stop petting your hair.

“I don’t want to meet them. There’s so many of them and only one of me, y'know? I don’t even know how to love myself, how am I supposed to love eight other people?” Taylor says nothing still, his eyes glued to an episode of a drama you know the two of you have already finished three times over.

“I’m scared I’ll fuck it up. I’m scared they’ll fuck me up.” Your voice cracks as you breathe life into one of your deepest fears. You realize as you say it that you’ve never voiced these thoughts aloud before, even to yourself.

Tears prick at the back of your eyes when you admit, “I’m not ready for them. I don’t think I can be.”

Taylor finally gives in to the seriousness of the conversation and hauls you bodily up onto the couch. You go willingly, but with rag-doll limpness. He rearranges you to his liking and you find yourself in Gossip Position, sitting criss-cross facing him.

“First of all,” He starts in, his usual levity giving way to a seriousness you rarely see from him, “Don’t be mean to my best friend. I’ll hit you.” You ignore his threat in favor of the warm feeling in chest at hearing him call you his best friend.

Take THAT Ma! No friends your glorious behind.

“Secondly, you are literally the most loving person I have ever met in my life. You would fit the entire world in there if you could,” He pokes your chest, right above your heart, for emphasis, “So I’m not that surprised you have more than one soulmate.”

“I have eight though,” You argue, “Isn’t that weird?”

Taylor just shrugs. “I mean, yeah. But weird is basically your brand, so...” He trails off with a teasing smirk.

You shove him a bit in retaliation, but he just grabs your wrists to still you and continues speaking before you can argue.

“I don’t think eight soulmates is enough for you, honestly,” He muses, “I mean it when I say you’re the most loving person I know. I think you’d even try to take care of Danny if he needed you to.” The mention of Taylor’s very creepy second cousin sends a shiver down both of your spines.

The worst part is that you can’t even argue with him.

“But you know, even with eight soulmates, you don’t have to be with them.” Taylor suddenly switches tracks to reassure you, “They’re your soulmates sure, but you’re your own person. They’re for you, it’s not like they are you. You can live without, if you really want to.”

The two of you let that statement settle for a moment. He’s right, you know all too well. Still, the thought leaves a wad of uncomfortable and complicated feelings lodged in your throat.

After a moment’s pause, you break the silence.

“I have too many years of trauma and not enough therapy money to unpack everything I’m feeling right now.”

Taylor cracks first, and giggles come pouring out of the two of you. The joke wasn’t even funny, but you guessed the two of you had been serious for far too long.

Some minutes later, when the giggles finally die down and you return to watching Taylor’s show, you find yourself with your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever you decide, you know I’m here for you, right?” Taylor quietly picks up where the conversation had left off.

“Sure,” you agree, “Like I was there for you when you cried over a boy I told you wasn’t shit.” You completely deserve the elbow to the side you receive for that comment.

“Shut up, I’m being cheesy!” Taylor scolds with a laugh.

“I’m lactose intolerant!” You complain, but obligingly fall silent.

“Seriously,” Taylor insists, “I’ll be here every step of the way. Whatever you need.”

You wrap your arms around the one of his that you’re leaning on and give a gentle squeeze to show your appreciation. “Thanks Tay.” you murmur.

“Of course. You got me front row tickets to a SKZ concert, we’re ride or die whether you like it for not!” You poke his side to scold him for not being serious after just insisting that you be, but end up having to fight for your life when he immediately retaliates by trying to tickle you.

It takes the two of you quite a while to calm down again, Taylor smug in his victory. He holds your ankles in his lap like trophies of war as you stare at the ceiling. The quiet creeps back in quickly, so you speak.

“I’m just not sure what I want, I think.” You tell him, “I don’t want to meet them. But at the same time, I really do, y’know?”

Taylor nods, “Just let the universe do its thing.” he suggests, “If you’re meant to meet them now, you’ll meet them regardless of what you want. But after you meet them, it’s all up to you.”

You nod along, humming your acceptance of his advice. He’s right, again. You can’t really fight fate, even if you desperately want to. But even within that large restraint, you’re a human being with free will. The world is your oyster and all that.

You let your thoughts fade out and just listen to Taylor yap about the drama on the TV as he finally tunes back into it.

It’s nearly dawn when the two of you decide to turn in, post-concert jitters having deserted you and heavy conversations having taken their toll.

“Did you manage to get their name before you bolted?” Taylor asks out of nowhere as you’re walking to your respective rooms. “Your soulmate’s” He clarifies at your confused look.

“Oh, I didn’t need to.” You answer absentmindedly, already opening your door and dreaming of your cozy sheets. “It was Bangchan.”

You close your door on his gawping face, blissfully unaware of the crisis you’d just sent him into.

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#skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #skz fanfic #w.i.p fic #skz fic #w.i.p #baby writes #SGAU #Soulmate Garden AU #Soulmate AU #SKZ soulmate AU #stray kids soulmate au

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