#but tbh a few other new stories have caught my eye

[roosterbox]

@gutsfics

Good to know? But all the same, no spoilers please. I try to go in to books (especially brand new stories!) as blind as possible. Like I said, hopefully it’ll get more interesting for me as I play through it. I’ll be greatly looking forward to customizing that character though!

I think I tend to be a little harsh at first to the more mystery-oriented books, just because they never quite grab me as fast as some of the other stuff. Most Wanted was the same way - took a few chapters for me to warm up to it. I probably felt similarly about Veiled Secrets, though I remember liking the characters a bit more (oh hello there, tattooed bad boy who looks like Ian Somerhalder), so who knows. Been awhile since I played through either one of those books. But that’s the nature and risk of mystery writing, you know?

It took me soooooo long to finally commit to finishing the first It Lives book for a similar reason. (also because I realized that the It Lives books had actual fucking serious consequences for bad decisions and I got scared, lmaooo.)

[bewitchedme-body-and-soul]

all sides of you

a/n: this came to me late at night and i had to write it; shout out to @humanalien01 for helping me and supporting my simping. idk how i feel abt the ending tbh :/

summary: a night at josies bar leads to you admitting your thoughts about the devil of hell's kitchen, and a few months later your words come back to haunt you.

word count:2427

warnings: swearing, canon typical violence, reader is victim in an attempted mugging & fights back, cursing, reader is called a bitch

Standing around the pool table at Josie's bar with the Nelson and Murdock team, playful banter spewn between the four of you. Each of you taking turns shooting while also trying to make the others mess up. The laughter coming from the four of you carrying throughout the bar, the three deserved this after a hard case, and you being Matt's partner were happily invited. Foggy happily uses you as a means to try to embarrass Matt with silly stories from their college years. You and Karen, doubling over in laughter as Foggy finishes his current story, Matt's cheeks tinted pink. Upon noticing you move closer to him, pressing a quick kiss against his cheek, then resting your head against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around your middle. 

It's not until Foggy scoffs begrudgingly that your attention and Matts is pulled away to look at what Foggy's upset about. On one of the Tvs hanging around the bar you notice a news story about The Devil Of Hell's Kitchen. Foggy going on a rant about how he thought the man was bad news while you stared at the grainy footage someone caught of the man decked out in all black, as he beat up a group of gang members. You slowly zoned out as you watched how the man in the mask’s body contorted as he flipped and took the bad men out.

“Y/n!” Foggy's voice pulled you out of your daydream, your head snapping to look in his direction, giving him a hum in acknowledgement. “What do you think? What's your opinion on the masked man?” he asks, you know he's hoping you'll take his side.

Your cheeks tint a slight pink at the question, aware of the two pairs of eyes locked on you and Matt's head tilting, obviously also looking forward to your answer.  “Um, i don't really have one” you lie, moving to lean over the pool table and shoot one of the balls. Karen's giggle goes in tandem with the clack of the cue ball hitting one of the stripped balls.

“You're lying!” Foggy calls out pointing an accusatory finger at you, “did you know lying is a sin? I can't believe you would do such a thing while dating our good Catholic Matt Murdock” he gasps a hand over his heart like you wounded him deeply with your tiny fib. The smile on Matt’s face tells you he did not care and he finds Foggy's dramatics hilarious.

“Oh no, however will you forgive me, my love?” you gasp dramatically leaning against Matt. “But seriously my opinion on the man in the mask isn't that important.” you say trying to move on.

Karen laughs before speaking “oh, trust me, too foggy it is very important, and honestly now I’m interested cause it's been just me vs foggy about this since Matt tries to stay out of these conversations” after she's done speaking the attention turns back to you. You sigh as Matt moves to take his turn, now seeing you have no way out of this conversation.

“I don't know, I don't think he has bad intentions or anything” you shrug before continuing “He’s also kinda hot” you say the second part quieter. The other three members of your party all have varying reactions, Karen laughing, Matt giving an awkward chuckle, and Foggy with his over the top dramatics acting as if you’ve insulted his mother. You watch Matt out of the corner of your eye worrying you may have upset him, you’d only been dating a month and a half, the relationship still new, you're still learning things about the other. What if you hurt him?

Foggy's voice pulls you out of your anxiety fueled downward spiral. “I can't believe you would do this to me” he speaks with a voice obviously trying to make you feel bad for not agreeing with him. He puts his head in his hand as he begins to fake cry. You and Karen look at each other before you both double over laughing, Matt joining in as Foggy's fake cries ramp up at your laughing.

You spend another few hours at Josies before you all decide to part ways, you going home with Matt after deciding to spend the night. Once you're in his apartment your anxiety returns from the prior conversation. You both make your way to his bedroom and change into clothes you can sleep in. It's only when you're both in bed, your head on his chest as he rubs your back, that you decide to broach the subject. “Hey Matty, can I ask you a question?” he hums in response. “Earlier at Josies, did I upset you?” you question, heart rate picking up slightly.

Matt feels your heart rate pick up so he quickly leans forward to kiss your forehead before he smiles at you with a soft chuckle, “no, not at all, I trust you, it’s no different than the people who have a crush on the avengers.” you sigh at his words. Anxiety subsiding, you know Matt well enough he wouldn’t lie to you about something like this. You nestle closer to him before grabbing his other hand and kissing his knuckles, ignoring the cracks and healed over abrasions. “Besides, I know I’m your favorite” he says and you don't need to look at him to know he's wearing that cocky grin of his. 

You roll your eyes at him “i suppose” You tease him, no matter who came to you and professed their love, you knew you’d always choose Matt. You feel his chest vibrate under your cheek as he laughs. Eventually the two of you fall asleep in eachothers arms.

~~~

A month passes and you forget the aforementioned conversation ever happened. So many things happening that small moments get buried and forgotten about so easily. It's not till you're walking home one night that the conversation gets catapulted back to the forefront of your mind.

On your way home from a girl date with Karen you get yanked into an alley and thrown against one of the brick walls of a building. The bricks sharp and your head immediately begins to throb as your head smacks against it. A hand goes over your mouth and fight or flight takes over as you feel your heart rate pick up and the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. You struggle before biting down with all your might on the hand, the taste of copper coats your tongue. The man who grabbed you yanks his hand back and you spit the blood out onto his face before screaming, hoping you’d be lucky enough for someone to be close enough to hear you. You knew basic self defense but you’d rather be safe and hope someone would at least call emergency services. 

“You bitch” the man yells before slapping you across the face. You bring your knee up in an attempt to connect it with his groin. His hand shoots down, your knee still connects but not with as much force as you hoped. As you attempt to shove him off you hear a thud to the side of you and you can only hope that it’s some good samaritan here to save you. It's only a few seconds later your attacker is yanked off of you and thrown to the ground.

You watch with bated breath as the man in the mask repeatedly punches the guy in the face and head. Once he finishes he makes his way over to you, you can hear him speaking to you, asking if you're alright, but you're distracted by the shape of his jaw and the way his lips move. A sense of familiarity washes over you and you're unsure as to why.

“I’m fine, thank you, I just need to get home.” You quickly rush out before speed walking away. Wanting to be in the safety of yours and Matt's home as quickly as possible, and wanting to scrub your mouth to rid it of the copper taste. A part of you hoping Matt is home so you can just crash into his arms and sleep.

You arrive home to an empty apartment, the billboard on the building across the alley lighting up the living room. You drop your jacket and bag on the counter before moving to the bathroom and brushing your teeth for far longer than the usual two minutes. Afterwards moving to your shared bedroom and changing into the clothes you'd be sleeping in. 

As you're changing you spot a picture of you and Matt on top of your dresser. You pause, taking a moment to admire your partner, that's when it hits you. The sense of familiarity, why the bottom half of the devil of hell's kitchen face looked so familiar. You'd kissed those lips hundreds of times, it's no wonder your body recognized them. Everything begins falling into place in your head, like placing the last puzzle pieces in a puzzle and seeing the finale picture.

Matt's injuries always lined up with when you'd see the man in the mask on the new fighting bad guys. How a part of you always believed there was more to the story than him just falling or whatever excuse he’d give you. He was always so careful, far too careful to just take a tumble as often as he’d tell everyone. You never called him out cause even if a part of you believed he was lying you trusted him enough that you never questioned. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door opening and Matt's voice calling out for you. 

“In the bedroom!” you call back, wondering if he’ll tell you or if you'd have to call him out and question him. You hear him approach and turn to look at him, he looks relatively unharmed, ‘that's good’ you think. “Hey baby.” you can't help the small smile that graces your features, he moves closer to where your voice came from, reaching a hand out towards you. Once he reaches you he wraps his arms around you pressing a kiss against the top of your head. You hear and feel him take a deep breath, you wouldn't be surprised if he was also a little shaken up, he’d just saved his partner from being mugged, you wouldn’t blame him if he was. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes before you decide you can't take it anymore.

“Baby?” you begin, he hums in response. You take a deep breath before you continue, turning in his arms and wrapping your arms around his neck. “When were you gonna tell me?”  you question, you figure it's best to just rip the bandaid off.

“Tell you what sweetheart?” he questions tilting his head, eyebrows furrowing. He looked like a puppy, confused by the trick its owner is trying to teach it. You understand why he’d try and play this off but you also wish he’d just be honest. Your face morphs into a deadpan expression.

“Matty, seriously, you know what I’m talking about.” You cross your arms over your chest. “When were you going to tell me youre daredevil?” you question. He huffs out a small laugh.

“What? Honey what are you talking about? I’m not the daredevil.” he lies through his teeth.

“I know you can’t see my face but just know it's a look of disappointment cause you should really be better at lying if you're gonna be a vigilante.” you speak before moving just out of matts reach. Deciding he could touch you again when he confessed. A defeated sigh leaves him, you assume he's come to the conclusion that there’s no way of getting out of this without being honest. 

“I don't know, honestly.” he begins “I always wanted to tell you, I hated lying to you, especially after seeing how worried you’d get.” he takes his glasses off sitting them on your dresser. “I was waiting for the right moment I guess. I was worried how you’d react, I didn’t want to lose you.” he finishes looking in your direction. He looks like a puppy that just got scolded and was trying to look cute to get out of punishment.

“First of all, low blow, you know your puppy eyes work way too well on me” you speak trying not to giggle. “Second, Matt I’m literally so in love with you, it’d take a lot more than you running around at night in a mask beating up criminals to lose me.” Now the laugh escapes you, a smile making its way to his face as well at your laugh. He moves closer to you again, hands landing on your waist, before he leans in to kiss you.

“You handled this a lot better than Foggy did,” he laughs. “Also, if you were wondering, yes, i am actually blind” 

“I wasn’t, but good to know.” you laugh “and to be fair, foggy did hate your alter ego.” you lean up to kiss his cheek, “lets go to bed baby” you whisper before crawling into your shared bed as he moves to change into pajamas. Once he joins you in the bed you snuggle into his arms, resting your head over his heart. Thinking over everything as you trace shapes against his chest, it’s then you sit up quickly realizing something. “You little shit!” you yell with a laugh as you playfully hit him in the chest. 

“What? What’d I do?” he asks shock and confusion taking his features

“A few months ago, at Josies with Foggy and Karen” you begin, you can tell by the look his face morphs to that he's beginning to understand. His cocky smile finding his face again. “I confessed that I thought the daredevil was hot and you just let me?” you ask incredulously “no wonder you were so unphased by it” you playfully shove his shoulder

“Would it help if I said I found it very flattering that you did?” he laughed “but seriously, that was when I started seriously thinking about telling you. It made me feel a little bit better about it.” he speaks, moving his hand to rub against your knee.

“Maybe, it does a little,” you confess. “You're still a little shit though.” you laugh moving to kiss him. “My little shit though” you whisper. The rest of the night is spent full of soft touches and laughter as the two of you bask in your love of the other.

[aquaquadrant]

thoughts on the chaos theory trailer below the cut

there’s no WAY brooklynn is actually dead. i will continue to believe this unless i see the credits roll at the end of the final episode without being shown otherwise. depending on how long ago it happened relative to when our story takes place, she either let ppl believe she died during the attack to investigate in secret, or she was kidnapped. there’s a shot of some guy holding a pink cellphone which seems very suspicious.

side note, it’s interesting that she addressed darius directly during that final video. that combined w the lack of focus on kenji makes me wonder if their relationship lasted beyond the jwcc epilogue. ofc we could still get that in the actual show, it makes sense they wouldn’t linger on kenji’s feelings during a short trailer, so it could’ve just been down to editing. we shall see.

i’m so happy and relieved that the other campers are gonna be main characters, i was afraid we’d only get brief cameos with them near the end. i’m not the biggest fan of their older looks (sammy’s is the best imo other than darius) but i don’t HATE them. i think ben’s new design is still the most jarring.

so excited for the variety of new locations we’re gonna see, and how improved the quality of these sets seems to be so far.

the direction of the show- the campers on the run being hunted by dinosaurs while trying to unravel the mystery of who’s behind it all- is a FANTASTIC choice. i think this is when the campers are at their best tbh, when they’re operating as a unit, sneaking around to thwart the bad guys, surviving dinosaurs all the while. being back in society on the mainland could’ve presented a tricky problem of “why don’t they just get help from the police??” so i think this was a clever way to get around that. they are being HUNTED they have no idea who they can trust (perhaps even some of their trauma is playing a hand in that…)

some eagle-eyes folks have caught sight of bumpy in a few scenes. THANK GOD, it wouldn’t feel the same without her.

yasammy seems strong as ever. praying we get plenty of scenes with them being affectionate gfs 🙏🙏🙏

just based on the trailer alone i can def see what the crew meant by this series taking a darker tone. i’m so excited to see just how far they got to go with it. there’s a brief shot of a guy literally in a dinosaur’s mouth, so i have high hopes.

overall? i’m VERY looking forward to this and am tentatively hopeful it might even surpass jwcc as a better series, which is. SO rare for sequels. but i’d be happy even if it fell a bit shorter than jwcc cuz i’m just happy to have any content w these kids. gives me plenty of fodder for my own writing.

[preciouslandmermaid]

quiet fury in your head [ix]

Dream of the Endless x AFAB!Reader!Goddess / Sandman Fanfiction

Note: I was working on the playlist I have for this story and it inspired me to get this chapter out. Truthfully, I had about 80% of the chapter already written AGES ago, and so all I had to do was add the beginning scene/tweak a few things lol

No use of Y/N. See part 1 for all the tags tbh.

Warnings: self-harm in a ritualistic way + blood/injury + angst

Rating: 18+

(Read on AO3)    ||   (masterpost for other chapters)  

The wind gently tugs at your cloak as you stand on the pier. It is wholly unnecessary to be here on the pier, but this is how Dream leaves for his Odyssey, and you’ve always enjoyed the cyclical rhythm of repetition. You were once a trio. There’s power in rituals and repetition. You won’t leave the Dreaming through the waters, but you’ll leave while standing on this pier, the same way Dream does.

“No fanfare or farewell,” Lucienne’s voice floats to your ears. “I’m glad I caught you before you left.”

“Are you?” You glance over your shoulder and your eyebrows tick upward. Lucienne is not alone. Of the Dreaming inhabitants, you bonded with Lucienne and Dima, but there had been other passing connections throughout the centuries. You had not felt them significant at the time, but the presence of Abel, Cain, and the Corinthian proves differently. I have touched their lives even if they have not touched mine. You turn and face the small gathering. The brothers, Abel and Cain, were less of a surprise than the Corinthian who stood with his hands in his pockets and the light reflecting off his sunglasses.

“I wished to give you this,” Lucienne says while passing a leather-bound book to your hands. Instinctively, you open to see the language written within, but blank pages flutter before you like a flurry of white moths, a storm of white sheets.

A fist squeezes inside your throat. “Your kindness is witnessed, Lucienne,” you respond stiffly. This is not an offering like the times of old. This is a gift. Lucienne, loyal to Dream and his Realm, took the time to give you something to remember her by.

“I admit I will miss your presence in the library,” she says, “and our lessons.”

“I will return to the Dreaming someday,” you inform her and her gentle, melancholy smile brightens and reaches her dark, intelligent eyes. Lucienne steps back, nods her head and, the brothers rush into the space she once occupied.

“Lady,” Abel bows, “my brother and I will miss your visits.”

Cain says, “We will miss your stories, especially.”

Throughout the centuries, there had been a handful of times when boredom and loneliness brought you to the brother’s home. You enjoyed watching their endless story – the death and rebirth – the tragedy and anger. It reminded you of your sisters. They’ve always allowed you to stay the for the evening if you agreed to share a story of your people—be it the other Gods or creatures of folktale.

“And your company,” Abel says with a sharp glance at Cain.

“I already said that,” Cain replies hotly. This is their destiny, the wind tugs at the hem of your dark cloak, and I cannot stay to watch it play out once more. You have your future to write. Sisters to bury. A friend to find. A new Godhood to shape.

“Be well,” you cut in before they can continue to argue, “and I will return with new stories.”

It may be a millennium before you return, but time has no bearing on a dream. The brothers bicker quietly as they shuffle back toward the shore. You draw your breath into your lungs and briefly hold it. The Corinthian’s golden head cocks to the side and is studying you when he approaches. You taste the memory of saltwater and bright storms. You will not be bowed by a Nightmare. You exhale and push your shoulders back.

“Have you come to claim your favor?” you ask softly. You feel Lucienne’s eyes on you and imagine how the sight may appear—Corinthian and yourself standing close and speaking in low, intimate tones, as the waters of Odyssey gently lap and wave beneath the dark pier.

His lips quirk. “No. Although, I’m happy to hear you haven’t forgotten it.”

“Of course not. I do not offer promises and favors lightly,” the haughtiness in your tone reminds you of your Old Self – the Goddess of Rage, the Lady Nemain of the Three Sisters. If he has nothing to offer and no farewells to give then I will be on my way. I cannot – I do not wish to delay any longer. I have waited long enough.

You say, “Farewell, Corinthian,” and a shroud of raven feathers encircles you as you vanish from the Dreaming.

************

You stand alone in a scorched grove of ash and blackened soil. The mountains in the distance are haloed by rings of gray smoke and rivers of luminous, orange lava spilled into the valley, inflaming dry brush and shrubs, and boiling once beautiful lakes into sulfur. The sky overhead flashes with lightning, and the air tastes of eroded stone and thunder, of smoldering wood and lonely, empty grief. Your fists clench at your sides.

The Otherworld was a place of verdant, wild fertility, and blue skies. Surely, it could not all be lost, could it? Something must have grown from the ashes. Your hope burns inside your chest.

“I am proud of you, pet,” Desire says, wearing Dream’s face. Their arrival is merely mildly surprising, though not wholly unexpected. You keep shifting through the black soil, pushing dirt with a stick and kicking aside rocks.

“I haven’t buried their tokens yet,” you reply.

“You will and perhaps...in doing so…” Desire trails off, smirking coyly.

You stop and cross your arms. It’s strange to see Dream wearing an expression like this one. It looks wrong and unnatural, yet your stomach clenches as if it is him. A low stirring of desire coils and you tamper it away. This is not your Dream. It is not Morpheus.

“What?” You prod against Desire’s continued silence.

“There’s still magic here,” they say with a wink before vanishing.

“Your secrets no longer tempt me,” you mutter, though Desire has long since vanished. There is nothing Desire can offer you. They cannot revive your sisters and would offer you only impostors. They would look, and perhaps act as Badb and Macha, but it would not be them. You are here to see the destruction for yourself and bury your sisters. Nothing more and nothing less.

All of the beautiful oak Dagda’s trees have been chopped and reduced to low stumps. Some were torn asunder from the earth and cast aside, their roots gnarled and twisted, or blackened into white-gray charcoal. Dagda. your Chieftain God had a white beard that twisted like tree roots and wise, ebony eyes—a face that you will always remember, but are destined to never see again. You swallow past the lump inside your throat.

It takes minutes or hours before you find the Heart Tree—Dagda’s magnificent oak. The symbol of his power and his standing with the Gods.

Or, rather, you find what remains of it.

The massive stump could fit an entire village within its rings. You drag your fingers across the rough, dark bark of its sprawling roots and then dig your fingertips into the divots and cracks with a strenuous exhale. The hem of your bloody dress catches on the jagged surface and you tugged it free, tearing it.

You ignore the rip and continue to climb.

You claw your way to the edge and pull yourself onto the flat, spiral-marked surface of Dagda’s Heart Tree. You do not stop crawling until you reach its center and collapse, face first, into the soft and sweet-smelling oak. Your fingertips are scarlet, blood seeping into your nail beds, and your hands are chaffed raw.

A raven lands near your forearm, “Lady Morrigan?”

“I am alright.” You lie, knowing her connection to Morpheus, and hating that he might see your sorrow and shame. The destruction is real. The death is real. There is nothing left of the Otherworld.

If only you had defeated Lugh, you might have saved your sisters and saved your home. Your nose squishes against the wood, and you breathe deep and seek an impression of Dagda’s magic within the layered bark.

Please, you beg the impassive wood, please, I do not wish to be alone forever.

The raven nudges her beak into your elbow. You sense that she is attempting to comfort you and wish you had any energy to smile or offer gratitude.

************

Dream sits on his throne, and holds your feather between his forefinger and thumb, and watches the play of light on the glossy, obsidian surface.

You have not moved from your fetal position on the large, forgotten tree stump. He watches through his raven – Myrtle—and his chest aches at the marks of grief shadowed beneath your eyes. He wishes to spare you from suffering.

Again and again, he considers summoning you to the Dreaming, using this feather like a sigil, and returning you to your rightful place beside him. But he resists the temptation. He has released you and you promised you would return.

He contemplates whether or not he made the correct choice. However, as long as Myrtle remains, he could take an odyssey into the Otherworld if you need him. He twirls the feather between his fingers and sighs. A sense of melancholy and regret found a home inside his chest. I should have followed. But I cannot abandon my responsibilities within the Dreaming for the sake of a whim.

************

Your weary bones ache as you walk. The feasting hall stands against the ashen backdrop like a skeletal, black behemoth. You pluck a piece of charcoal from the shifting ash and gravel and draw your old tattoos onto your skin. They had faded over time as your followers diminished and the rest of your pantheon died.

It’s time to mourn your sisters. It’s time to lay their tokens beneath the Heart Tree as Desire instructed.

You are the last remaining Goddess of a forgotten and abandoned worship. You are the last of your kind. And you owe it – to yourself, to the mortal you once were, to your sisters – to continue to live and find a way to rebuild what you lost.

You find the homestead that you shared and it is remarkably unburnt. A collection of small animal skulls hangs on red threads from the ceiling in Badb’s room and its rich, perfumed scent of dried flowers lingers in the smoky air.

You gasp and stubbornly wipe away the tears clinging to your eyes.

Macha’s room glows with warmth, swaths of carnelian and crimson fabrics are draped over the wooden beams, and elaborate woven rugs cover the floor. You snip a crow’s skull from its thread and collect Macha’s hairbrush made of horsehair. These tokens, you think, will suffice.

Lastly, you approach your room and behold the sight of a lifetime eons ago. The walls are covered with your favorite offerings—bronze spears that glimmer when the sun cuts through the open window. You break the tip of a spear and stand at the center of your sparse room with a rueful smile. Dream’s raven lands on the windowsill and caws.

You bow your head in silent appreciation. You had sensed her vigil. You know her presence meant Morpheus is watching over you as well, but that particular knowledge is harder to stomach.

You do not want him to be privy to this ritual. Your grief is choking your lungs.

It is not a long walk to return to the Heart Tree, though it feels as if it takes centuries. Your mind fills with a certain blackly-clad dressed individual in a starry cloak and unfathomable eyes. Oh, Morpheus. Your time in the Dreaming has softened you to him. You recall how he stood on the beach framed by cobalt waves with his hands clasped behind his back. You had watched his subjects and their subdued and hidden adoration of their Maker, and how even the blades of grass turned toward him.

He is an isolated, dark star in a kaleidoscope of wonder and radiance.

You wonder if it meant something that he offered you mercy, that he warranted you an exploration of the Otherworld because he felt some type of kinship to you. Could he see me as an equal now? You shake your head. These musings are useless. They serve little purpose but to make your chest ache with ruinous desire. You set aside all thoughts of Morpheus and his inscrutable sentiments.

The bronze spear tip is warm in your palm. You were once the Queen of Raven’s, weren’t you? You nudge against the raven’s mind, feeling Morpheus there, and learn the raven’s name is Myrtle.

You meet her dark eyes and see Morpheus in them, “I’m sorry,” You say earnestly, abandoning your sense of pride for this one, single precious moment. With a firm mental hand, you push his essence from Myrtle, and she flies– startled – into the air.

The soil is waiting.

You press the gilded point to your vulnerable inner wrist. A God should not be able to bleed. However, your weakened powers are heightened within the Otherworld, even if it is a shadow of itself. You bleed if you will it. A pinprick of deep crimson wells at the slight pressure of your hand.

“Farewell, sisters.”

You drag the point upward toward your inner elbow and rivulets of blood pour onto Badb’s and Macha’s tokens. You speak the poems of remembrance and farewell in a pleading and undulating tone that is reminiscent of your followers chanting beneath full moons. Your skin burns. The ash and dirt stir at your feet.

Your bloody fingers are freckled with dirt as you dig and bury Badb’s skull and Macha’s hairbrush beneath the Heart Tree’s roots. There. I have finished my task for Desire. I am free. I am free to live at last.

Your eyes snap backward into your skull. You see stars. You see your sisters. A rush of cold air whips around your face. You see Lugh’s laughing face. You see the glorious battlefields. The ground trembles. You see, through Myrtle’s eyes, that one of the volcanoes has erupted.

The Otherworld thickens with soot, memory, and supplication.

Morpheus’ face appears before you.

“You said you wished to see the Otherworld. Not that you wished to revive your sisters.” He clutches your bleeding wrist with wild, bright, and burning eyes. His voice is as impassive as stone.

Is that what I was doing? You wonder, though your dry lips cannot form the words. An icy panic latches itself onto your heart. The Otherworld is crumbling – it is dying. You feel it. A part of you, the part of you that is Badb, abruptly understands that the Otherworld has been waiting for your return. This is your fate and your doom.

Desire wanted me to come here...they said magic remained...did they know? Morpheus squeezes your bloody wrist. But your broken skin stubbornly refuses to heal. Did they believe I could revive my sisters in the end?

The Otherworld opens its arms to you. You are its doom and its epilogue. It wanted all its children home before it imploded like a dying star. You are a stream returning to the ocean. You are a plant wilting and rotting to compost. The Otherworld cracks.

“This is how it ends. You – Morpheus – were destined to be my undoing – my ruin.” Your voice sounds like Badb���s, raspy and weary and older than the stars themselves.

“You’re lying,” he seethes and his rage is cold. You taste his fear in the wind. I do not wish to leave you either, Morpheus. His eyes harden like black ice. If he does not believe you, well, it does not matter because the End is coming for you. Everything ends. Even Gods.

Something hot trickles down your cheeks.

“My fate is yours, Dream,” you shout over the cacophony of the tempest and volcanic earthquakes, “it has always been yours.”

Finally, you understand the prophecy. Nemain of the Three Sisters, The Banshee Queen, is meant to die in the arms of Dream the Endless. This is how your story goes:

He will always save you from Lugh’s poison. You will always venture into the Dreaming and marvel at its splendor.

Desire will always find you. Dream will always release you from the Dreaming’s prison...and protection.

You will always return to the Otherworld and bury your sister’s tokens.

And he will always lose you.

You will always be dead, worse off than a shade, with your name forgotten and history buried. You have already done this and will do it all again. This is what it means to be a God. A story. A written ending cannot be changed.

Perhaps the act of burying your sister’s tokens will be enough to return your sisters to the collective consciousness. Desire said there is magic here. You don’t need the whole tree. A small acorn of magic will be enough.

Let the stories sing of the magnificent Morrigan. Let her be courageous and devious, wicked, and wise. Let her contain all the fractured angles of a glistening gemstone. And let your name, Nemain, fall into dusted obscurity among the annuals of history. It will be enough. If you can change the narrative, in this small, wonderful way, then all of it—your loneliness, guilt, despair, grief, and longing—it’ll be worth it. You mentally sing your wish to the winds.

“No.” His anger thaws. “No.” He must’ve seen the resignation and sincerity in your face. “You promised you would return.”

You hold Dream’s face between your hands. You realize the wetness gliding over your face isn’t sweat or blood, but tears and you blink them away. Gods do not cry. And, more selfishly, you don’t want your final moments to be blurred.

“It would seem I am unable to honor my promise. I hope you will not hate me for it, though I will not fault you if you do.”

“I do not,” he says fiercely, his pale hands are marred with your blood, and they grip your face in desperation as the Otherworld collapses.

A faint, white light shines and sparkles through the fissures. A flicker of frustration etches across Dream’s usually calm, proud face.

“Come to the Dreaming.”

Even at the end of all things, you will not obey his orders. He would do well to understand that.

“I do not belong there,” you say with some difficulty, “you said so upon our first meeting and it was the truth. I am neither dream, nor nightmare, nor memory.”

“And what of my memories?” He pins you beneath his weighted gaze. “I do not forget so easily.”

You surge forward and kiss him with a tumultuous, wounded heart. Dream is motionless. You groan against his stubborn mouth, wishing for reciprocation, and hating the way your heart shatters at his stoicism. It is an odd feeling to let the tears fall.

You are not a creature of tears and sorrow. You are a herald of death and blood lust. Or you were. You were.

Dream slants his mouth over yours, adjusting, and you shudder, mollified.

You will fracture into oblivion and obscurity, yes, but at least you have this moment. In an era of solitude and bereavement, you will not face death alone. The dirt shimmers with light. You pull away from him with the solemn decision to face your death with your eyes open.

Morpheus’ intense expression steals the breath from your lungs. You burn alive like a sacrificial lamb in the light of his eyes.

“The Morrigan,” he whispers your name in reverence, “Queen of Nightmares.”

************ After the Otherworld shattered in brilliant light, his sister did not come and claim the Morrigan’s soul. This fact offers a paltry balm to his wounded heart. You might still yet live. Somewhere. Though Dream doesn’t know how to find you.

You do not dream, so he cannot find you within the Dreaming. And although your raven father no longer vibrates with echoes of your magic, he carries it with him, trapped in a desperate and melancholy hope within his breast pocket.

He cannot undo destiny. If it was your fate to become ‘undone’ – as you put it – then that was your fate. There is no bargain to be made, no trick to reveal, and no nightmare to banish. He considers calling upon his brother, Destiny, but what purpose would that serve? He knows how the story ends. He was there.

He focuses on his duties, his realm, and his creations.

It rains often.

He creates a Nightmare with black, feathered wings and sharp fangs, but struggles to complete the Nightmare’s eyes. He can only think of your eyes—deep, electrifying, the amount of swirling stars within them varying based on your mood—and he cannot get it right.

The Nightmare remains unfinished.

He doesn’t lament over the unfairness of losing you. He is Endless. This is the way things are, the way they were always meant to be, and it would be unproductive to whinge over it.

He has found himself at the stormy cliffside more often than expected. He stands with his hands clasped behind his back and focuses on remembrance—he’ll recall the sublime shape of your spine, the arch of your neck exposed to him with an up-do hairstyle, the play of your emotions across your face, fierce and breathtaking, even when sharpened with malice. He recalls the way your eyes looked on that final, fateful day. The galaxies within your irises had imploded, creating a field of black holes, and streaks of warping and bulbous light consumed the darkness before cannibalizing itself.

Another day, he returns to the mountainside where he secretly witnessed your first and only smile. He lifts his palm and lets the snowflakes settle on his skin with iced, tiny kisses.

He recalls your tearful expression, accepting his scorn, his denial, in light of everything you’d done. Your instinctive selfishness and desire for survival, luminous anger, and gilded conceit.

He doesn’t offer forgiveness or mercy for his creations. His realm requires ancient laws and stalwart order. That is how it functions. But he offered those gifts to you because you were not of his realm.

You were an outsider, who effortlessly wove yourself into the tapestry of the Dreaming – into him. He felt your touch, rich like blood, delicate as spring’s bloom, in the whispered nightmares you left behind.

Your final gift to him had been a kiss that seared his soul and bound him forever.

To him, none can compare, and he aches like a man starved for food at a banquet.

He has sensed Lucienne’s worry for him. However, she’s loyal and smart enough to not broach the topic.

He knows when others are speaking of you because they hush when he enters a room. Save for Corinthian. In the days after your annihilation, your death, Corinthian approached him and petitioned himself to search the living, waking world to try and find you.

He saw it for what it was. A poor, thinly veiled attempt to escape the Dreaming. He denied him.

Under the full, blue-gray moonlight, Dream stands in a field of pink camellias, pale red carnations, and purple heliotropes dappled with fresh rainwater. He pulls your feather from his coat and slides it across his lips – a poor substitution to your touch – but it’s all he has.

****

A/N: Flower meanings: pink camellias symbolize longing, pale red carnations symbolize an aching heart, while heliotropes symbolize eternal love/devotion.

[quirekey]

Hallooooo! I'd like to request a match-up, as per my prior question... The match up can be of any tf-fandom, I really dm :3.Here's some information about me!

My name is Atlas, but I've been given the nickname Eye/Eyes. Im pansexual and use She/they as my pronouns :3 My personality type is Infp.

I absolutely LOVE drawing and reading, I'm just way too shy to show any of my drawings to anyone. I mostly read books about Mythology, Past wars in my country and paranormal Activity. I also like to play some games occasionally, like Genshin or Reverse 1999! If I'm not reading, drawing or playing games I'm mostly zoning out with music in the background. Some of the artists I listen to are Melanie Martinez, Glass Animals, The Hu, Will Wood and Mitski.

I'm usually quiet, but if I'm around my select few friends, I let loose. Think Bee from TfOne. I love to ramble for hours to my friends about my interests, if they're willing to listen of course. I'm also rather helpful, and will jump at every opportunity to help others.

There aren't a lot of things that I hate. I think the thing that annoys me the most is tardiness, or overall when someone makes no effort in plans. Another thing I can't stand is blatant discrimination towards anyone. I mostly try to not get annoyed but given I do have a short temper, I usually get heated and start an argument. Though lately I've grown out of my snappy attitude if I were to get annoyed :3

I hope this was enough!

Have some more red pandas bc they're the best animals to ever exist

MATCHUP FOR @atlas-tbh-idk-what-to-do   

[ Transformers x Human!reader ]

You have got CHASE RESCUE BOTS

These can all be seen as platonic or romantic :)

- Chase would definitely understand ur disliking in things and maybe even relate to some himself. When somebody is late it really buzzes you both off or if somebody puts absolutely no effort into a project it ticks you both. If you both are punctual, why can’t the others be? About hypocrisy, you both despise that too. Your advice also counts onto you for a reason. Because of this, you both have an understanding of hate about people who don’t try to at least be somewhat careful.

- You definitely like Mythology and it got Chase interested. Sure, Chase prefers ‘undercover and crime’ shows but he is willing to try something new. When you tried to explain to him about what Mythology is, how it works and how worldly spread this topic is, he was both shook and confused. Made-up stories to tell morals or legitimately just make-beliefs and lies are world-wide? Why? Chase took most of the things you said seriously so you had to explain that it’s all just imagination and wild thoughts, nothing real

- When it’s a quiet day, you like to pass the time a little and play some RPG games like Genshin Impact. You aren’t the best but you aren’t the worst at it, it’s all about the fun. You sometimes play Genshin while driving in Chase since he can drive on his own. Eventually, Chase does ask what you are looking at when you should be doing patrol instead. You tried to explain the game and how it worked but the laws in Genshin made no sense. A massive factor that caught Chase off-guard is that you were killing ‘enemies’ that were considered ‘aliens and non-human’. This did offend Chase since he is ‘an alien’ as well.

- You both are quite big yappers but for totally seperate things. You talk about your interests and connections while Chase talks about the law and how it affects society. You both understand this so you guys just take turns talking about what you guys are passionate about.

- Chase is usually told that he can be a bit too up-tight and stressing when it comes to the law so he is told to loosen up and relax. Because of this, he has learnt human-humour and some jokes that can be considered strange and awkward. He would tell you jokes and ask you for newer ones he could tell to others, you try your best to help but humour probably isn’t your biggest strength. It’s hard for you to not cringe since you feel bad but it gets to us eventually.

- Your music type varying of Will-Wood and Mitsiki does confuse Chase. You are attached to songs that go wild online or ones that just relax you. Sometimes you’d put on the radio but Chase is tense when you do this. Chase likes to do his patrols with either silence or socialisation, he thinks music takes you away from the present and distracts you from what happens around you (even though talking to somebody does the same thing… He just says it will help him improve with future human interactions, fair.)

- Ever since you’ve been improving with your temper (good job), Chase has been proud bro. You need to have hella patience to deal with criminals so he is glad you are improving yourself.

- Chase is a little frightened by your interest with paranormal activity. Yes, he has handled a paranormal emergency, but it doesn’t mean it still does frighten him a bit. He isn’t scared that much but it gets to him when you’re suddenly talking about how scary it is to go Ghost Hunting.

Only non-platonic one:

- Chase definitely shows you a lot of affection and hated PDA. He thinks it’s best to show his love for you in private so you two can do whatever you want without questions. You guys aren’t that freaky, it’s more just soft-romance than anything else.

Oh by the way, you seem really cool dude and YES SOMEBODY WHO ENJOYS PARANORMAL ACTIVITY! Your awesome. Thanks for the red pandas btw ^^

- To @atlas-tbh-idk-what-to-do   

[drkmgs]

!System Error!

Cipher (Fast and Furious) x Fem!Reader

Warning: angst, cursing, violence is mentioned, sex is mentioned, mentioned of child lost, divorce mentioned

Story type: One shot

I absolutely have no idea how hacking works, but I do know how hard programming is, because I had to learn the basics, but still can't programm. I think I know more html than any programming language. (lol) This was a request via DMs and I don't remember the plot I was planning for this one, so I came up with a new one. TBH, I didn't watch Fast and Furious, so I have no idea what the plot is.

Happy Pride Month!

"Fuck!" You cursed and slammed down on your desk. This was the ninth time already that someone has tried to get into your system, and sadly, they now succeeded. You pressed a red button to shut down all of your devices, took your leather jacket from your computer chair, and swiped a card to call the elevator.

Entering the elevator, you only had one person in your mind who would annoy you by hacking into your system, and they won't stop until they get what they want. So, you are going to pay them a visit and share a piece of your mind, which might involve violence.

Arriving at the garage level, you took one of your helmet off the shelves, carried it to your recently purchased motorcycle, and settled on it before putting the helmet on. Then, you drove out of the garage onto the streets.

—

On the other side, Cipher leaned back on her chair, putting her feet up on the desk, satisfied with her work. Though she might regret this later on when she hissed at her fresh wounds. It didn't take long for her peace to vanish into thin air when she heard a familiar voice shouting not far where she sat.

"Where the fuck is she?!" You push the guard trying to stop you from entering the room, the guy is twice the size of you and yet you are able to push him away. The guy keeps trying, but once he makes eye contact with Cipher, she dismisses him with a lazy wave of her hand, and he is gone.

You marched with clenched fists to her, and she looked up at you when you stopped by her side, giving her a death glare. "Stop hacking into my system when you're bored, I have been telling you that for the last months now." You said through your teeth, fists still clenched tight.

"You should strengthen your walls then. Where I can't easily pass through." She shrugged and smiled at you. SMILED?! Now, you are 100% sure she's gone mad. You are about to lose your mind and might just throw her against the wall.

You leveled down to her, aggressively pulling the chair by the restarm to face you, which cause her feet to drop on the ground and lean forward to you. You trapped her with both your arms in the seat. You looked straight into her eyes. "Listen here, Cipher. You might be one of a hella cyber hacker, but don't forget who broke your fingers once, and I'm not far from doing it a second time. Stop lingering around my system to get my attention! You blew your chance two years ago!" That last sentence wasn't planned. It shouldn't have made it out of your mouth, but you couldn't help it.

If she was doing this, because she wants to get another chance with you, this is where you need to tell her that it is never going to happen. Ever. Again. You knew her already. She'll do everything to get want she wants and then toss you out like you have never shared a bed together and made her cum multiple times with your mouth and fingers.

It was clear that the last sentence caught both of you off guard. You immediately stepped back from her as if the chair you were hold was made of lava. You closed your eyes, pinching the space between your eyes, and exhaled. "J-Just remove yourself from my system. Please." Only a few seconds later, you hear fast keyboard noises and a loud enter. "It's gone. You may go now." For the first time in your life you hear her cold voice, it shot through your cracked heart.

But this situation where both you are right now wasn't your fault. It was hers. She made the choice. She didn't have the right to be mad at you. "Thanks. If you didn't make that choice two years ago, maybe we wouldn't have ended up like this." You had your back facing her.

"How many times do I have to apologize?" If it wasn't quiet in the room, you might have not heard what she said, but the silence of the room was suffocating and made things easy to hear. You scoffed, turning around facing her. "Your apologies can't bring my child back to life!" Cipher stands up straight towering over you. "She is also my child!" She shouted at you. "You! Have no right to say that! The moment you chose that stupid plan of yours, you lost the right to be her parent! So fuck off, Cipher!"

Every sentence you said you pushed your fore finger onto her chest, you saw red, and it's a miracle you aren't throwing punches at her or even throwing her across the room, probably it's because you both got tired of expressing your anger to each other physically, so you are doing it emotionally now.

You can't do this anymore. "I want a divorce." You announced. Cipher staggered a step back, leaning her hands on her desk to keep her up on her feet. She didn't think that the pain she had caused you was this bad. She thought giving you space and time, everything would go back to its own place, and you would eventually forgive her, but she underestimated the damages that had been done.

Is she ready to let you go? Does she want to let you go? Do you deserve someone better? Definitely. "No." Cipher pushed away from the desk and faced you. "Don't make things harder for us, Cipher. We can't see each other without biting each others heads off. Hell, we don't share the same bed anymore! We are partly living in our offices!" You argue. "Then let's get back together! We can fix this! We don't have to go down that road." Cipher took one step closer to you, which made you step back. "Please." You could hear the desperation in her voice, but you chose to ignore it.

The pain is too much. You stepped further away from her. You shook your head, tears threatening to fall before it could you turn around and left her.

[meetmyothersouls]

In desperate need of Phantom! Timothee X Reader, been thinking of it all day tbh.

This one has me so excited! Been thinking about it for a while and I think I came up with a good premise. May or may not need a part 2, since what I’ve planned would make an entirely too long single fic. Let me know if you’d like a part 2 and I’ll add it to my list :) 

Phantom of the Theater  

Warnings: feelings of being watched/stalked, not proofread, Phantom!Timothee, set a years into the future

You moved to New York City to pursue your acting career in 2029. The same year Timothee Chalamet dropped off the face of the earth. It’s a year that sticks out to you; not because you moved your entire life across the United States or because you auditioned for countless Broadway shows, sent in hundreds of video audition tapes to casting and talent agencies, but because it seemed like no matter where you turned, the first 6 months of 2029 was focused solely on one question: where did Timothee Chalamet go?

Things calmed down in the summer. People stopped talking about Timothee Chalamet’s disappearance and started talking about Kim Kardashian announcing her candidacy for US president. That July you got approved for a shitty apartment located on the top story of an old, but operating theater. It was overpriced, it was cold (even in the summer), and it didn’t have a bathroom. But you weren’t on the street, and you were no longer hopping around bed bug infested hotels, so you took it. You had a small savings thanks to your bartending job and a few Off Broadway shows you managed to score parts in since you arrived in New York. 

Things were normal at first. Every morning you woke up and searched for new roles, begged Pablo, the casting advisor for the theater’s show to give you a script of that week’s shows so you could audition--to no avail-- and every night you went to sleep to the sound of whatever play they were performing that evening. And even though it was loud, and the orchestra’s music under the stage vibrated all the way up into your apartment, it was what you always dreamed of. 

“If I could just get an audition,” you said out loud before drifting off one night.

It wasn’t long after that when the script arrived at your doorstep. 

A knock at your door happened early in the morning. Well after everyone left from the previous night’s show but well before anyone was arriving for work the next day. Normally, you’d sleep through something as miniscule as a knock at your door, but this one woke you up. Not too light that it could have been mistaken for the apartment settling. Not too hard to scare the shit out of you. You heard it. The clock read 4:35 AM. The theater didn’t open for employees until 9am, and not to the public until 11am. Armed with this knowledge, you weren’t scared. Bravely, you stepped out of your bed, and padded your way to the door. You unlatched the chain, unlocked the bolt and turned the knob. A sound on the other side caused you to stop. Footsteps? Hurried ones, running softly away from your door. You took a deep breath, grabbed the umbrella you kept beside your door for protection, and swung it open. Your eyes took in nothing but darkness. For good measure, you swung your umbrella into the vacant space in front of you and when you were satisfied with the lack of bodies your umbrella hit, you chalked it up to the fact that you lived in an old theater that would likely make noises from time to time. You let out a sigh of relief, went to shut the door, but stopped when your eye caught the sight of a stack of white paper bound together, almost glowing in the darkness. Against your better judgement, you picked it up, took one last look outside your apartment and slammed your door making sure to secure the chain and lock the bolt. 

You decided you weren’t going to look at the strange stack of papers. You needed to get some sleep; you had a few hours before you had to be up for another series of audition tapes. You turned over in your bed, the papers on your nightstand staring at you, calling out to you. You slammed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to sleep and when it was evident sleep wasn’t coming to you for the rest of the night, you grabbed the papers eagerly. 

You opened the cover page and read it out loud. 

“Patron of Sorrow.”

You flipped the pages, feeling the paper glide across your thumb and realized it was a script. Then, as you kept going, multiple scripts. Seven in total with varying cheesy titles: Rise of Anguish, Unity of Darkness, Angels of Pain, Girls of Dawn, Chasing the Castle, and your favorite: Bakers Without Fear. You took a minute to skim through each script, laughing at how bad they actually were. Then it dawned on you. These were the scripts for next week’s plays you’d been asking Pablo for. These are the plays he writes weekly that the theater shows to people who want a little less Broadway and a little more well...Off Broadway. At the time, it didn’t matter. At the time, it meant you finally had access to the scripts you’d been begging for every morning. And it meant you could memorize them. Audition for them whether Pablo liked it or not. You were going to get a spot in one of his shitty plays.

You sent in your audition tapes, like usual, only this time you knew they sounded rushed and you knew you looked tired. You messed up four times on the dialogue for a film called Without Reason, saying the dialogue for Girls of Dawn instead. You gave up on that one, sent the rest and went back to Girls of Dawn, the first show of next week.

You read Girls of Dawn all day. You ran lines with yourself into the afternoon, and by the evening, you memorized every single line of the character that was, at this point, destined to be yours: Tinsley, a grungy 20 something obsessed with finding the vampire that killed her boyfriend, only to find out the vampire is her boyfriend. You flew down the steps leading into the theater. It was 10:45pm, the show for the night was wrapping up and Pablo was seated backstage, on his laptop, feverishly typing what you assumed was another script. 

“Pablo!” you yelled breathlessly. 

Pablo jumped, his laptop jostled against his knees, sliding off of them. He barely caught and gave you a death glare. 

You winced at his stare. 

“Sorry! Sorry! I just-”

“Damn it, y/n! You made me erase two paragraphs! Thank God for Ctrl+Z.” 

“I’m not sure what that means,” you admitted, “but I want to audition for Girls of Dawn!” 

Pablo slid his glasses down and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Y/n, I told you, I’m not accepting new actors.”

“But why!?” you whined. “Why? I’m good! I swear it won’t be a wa-”

“How could you even audition? You don’t have the script,” Pablo interrupted. 

You stood straighter, and a wave a nausea overtook you. Would he think you stole them if you told him? 

“I uh...I somehow...acquired them...?” You said, your voice going an octave higher at the end, sounding like a question. 

Pablo’s expression was unreadable. “So, you stole them,” he finally said. 

“What? No! No, I didn’t steal them. Whywouldyouthinkthat?” you said way too quickly, making yourself sound unnecessarily guilty.

He stared at you for too long. Waiting for a confession. When you didn’t give one, he slide his glasses back up his nose and went back to typing. 

“I’m not seeing your audition.” 

Your breathing was too fast and too heavy, and your heart was pounding fast out of anger. Somehow those scripts ended up on your doorstep and damn it he was going to see you audition! You began with your favorite scene. 

“I know you killed my boyfriend. I know it was you!” You said dramatically, though the shake of your voice and the tears welling in your eyes weren’t an act. 

Pablo sighed, closing his eyes in exhausted annoyance. His eyes slid back up to you. You waited. Normally, in an audition, someone else said the other characters lines. It was clear Pablo didn’t plan on doing this. So, you did. 

You brought your voice down low, to imitate a man’s and said, “I did it to protect you!” 

You brought your voice back to normal, “protect me from what?!” 

Down again. “From me!” 

“Why would I need-”

“-Enough!” Pablo yelled, interrupting you and causing your shoulders to jerk upright. “I told you I’m not holding auditions, y/n. You need to leave. Now. Or I’ll have no choice but to evict you.” 

You didn’t answer or give him a chance to say anything else. You ran back up the stairs, slamming your apartment door when you arrived. You threw the scripts onto the floor, not caring if a few of the pages ripped away from its seams. You fell onto your bed face down, crying into your pillow. You screamed into a few times, letting the stuffing and feathers take all of your anger. When you finally had enough, you turned your head to the side, and sat up straight. Someone had been in your apartment. On your nightstand, sat a black a rose with a black ribbon tied into a bow around the stem. Under it laid a note. Hesitantly, you took them both. The thorns had been clipped from the rose, like someone cared enough to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt when you touched it. You took the note out of the envelope, written on a small piece of cardstock you read the words written in beautiful scrawling handwriting: 

“He will curse the day he denied you.” 

Chills peppered your body. Someone watched your encounter with Pablo, saw him yell at you, wrote you a note with a rose, left it on your nightstand and somehow left before you came back? 

You leaned back against your headboard, flipping the note over in your hands, and saw a stamp. It was small and the ink was black and elegant. The stamp was of two letters: TC. 

Outside of your door, a soft thud sounded, followed by the same footsteps from this morning. You waited a minute before answering, but when you did you gasped. An entire bouquet of red roses with black ribbons tied around the stem, wrapped in black cellophane laid at your feet. 

Someone was watching you, that you were sure of. 

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp

[coreancitizen]

2022 Year in Review: My Korean drama recommendations

2022 went by so quickly, and I think that's partly because almost every week I had new episodes of shows to look forward to. I'm a bit of a contradiction: I don't have the patience to wait for a new show to be completed so I could binge it, but I (maybe not-so) patiently wait for episodes every week, haha. TBH, I find I'm more invested in a show and its characters when I watch a drama weekly. And there were so many characters worth the investment in 2022: Woo Young Woo, Queen Im Hwa Ryeong, the Oh sisters, Kim Yumi, Jin Do Jun and Jang Uk, to name a few.

I just want to make clear that, as in previous years, this is by no means a list of the best Korean dramas of 2022. These are merely my favorites among the ones I watched that premiered in 2022 (or ended in 2022).

You can find my previous roundups here:

2021: Year in Review 2020: Year in Review

YUMI'S CELLS 2

New season means new love for Kim Yumi (Kim Go Eun) as she begins a romance with co-worker Yoo Babi following her breakup with video game designer Goo Woong. TBH, I wasn't quite sure how I'd feel about the new pairing — I have a soft spot for Ahn Bo Hyun — but Jinyoung charmed me even before the series started. He and Go Eun have a sweet and natural chemistry that made me root for Yumi and Babi, even knowing how the relationship ended in the webtoon. Another thing I love about the series is its portrayal of Yumi's pursuit of her dream to be a writer — from the frustrations of earlier rejections to keeping it positive while faced with criticisms and the satisfaction of another job (book) well done. That shot of her jumping on the bed toward the end of the series was cathartic and the perfect cap to Yumi's growth. (Viki)

LITTLE WOMEN

This is NOT Louisa May Alcott's famous novel though it does share some themes and puts sisters at the forefront of the story. The Oh sisters — In Joo, In Kyung and In Hye — just want to live a life not steeped in poverty. So when 2 billion won falls on In Joo's lap, their problems are over, right? Nope. A multitude of troubles arrive as the sisters get entangled with a rich, powerful and corrupt family with a lot of unscrupulous allies. This series got me on the edge of my seat from the very first episode and the thrills and tension never let up until the end. I absolutely love how messy and chaotic the sisters and their relationships with each other are. They love but they also fight, annoy and block each other, LOL! Now please cast Kim Go Eun and Wi Ha Joon in an action comedy series or film and give them the ending on the sunny beaches of Greece that their characters deserve. (Netflix)

BULGASAL: IMMORTAL SOULS

This is the first drama that caught my attention last year, a fantasy with monsters, past lives, immortal love and families. It's the story of how the lives of a man (Lee Jin Wook) who was turned into an immortal monster 600 years ago and a woman (Kwon Na Ra) who has been dying and reincarnating for centuries have been intertwined. The world building is quite interesting and the central mystery keeps you guessing until the very end. Keep an eye out for familiar faces as people from the past emerge in the present. (Netflix)

A BUSINESS PROPOSAL

This romcom is adorable with a capital A. Shin Ha Ri (Kim Se Jeong) shows up to a blind date pretending to be her best friend and does her best to turn off a potential match by behaving outrageously. It's a schtick she and her chaebol best friend had cooked up a long time ago to discourage suitors. Unfortunately, the blind date turns out to be Kang Tae Moo (Ahn Hyo Seop), the young president of the food company where she works. And even more unfortunately, he's interested and now wants to marry her! Hilarious chaos ensues, abetted by the couple's adorable best friends (the second couple), her zany family and his kdrama-loving grandfather. You'll never look at an archaeopteryx (bird-like dinosaur) the same way again. (Netflix)

TOMORROW

This is a lovely, heartbreaking, oftentimes cathartic drama about people desperate enough to consider taking their own lives and the team of resolute grim reapers who work very hard to prevent their deaths. Comatose Choi Jun Woong (Rowoon) is the newbie in the Risk/Crisis Management Team led by Koo Ryeon (Kim Hee Sun). Lim Ryung Gyu rounds up the team. Head of the Soul Collection Team Park Joong Gil, despite being a fellow grim reaper, is a thorn on the team's side — he has a special animosity for Ryeon that may have something to do with the past. Fortunately, the team has a stalwart supporter in the Jade Emperor (Kim Hae Sook). (Netflix)

MILITARY PROSECUTOR DOBERMAN

Legal action drama with a touch of comedy is probably the best way to describe this series and it's the perfect leading man vehicle for Ahn Bo Hyun. Do Bae Man passes the bar with basically just a GED and so finds himself unable to find a spot in a decent law firm until he gets an "offer he can't refuse" from corrupt lawyer Yong Moon Go: Serve in the military for five years as a prosecutor and then join his prestigious firm after. The plan is going swimmingly until he crosses paths with another military prosecutor, Cha Woo In (Jo Bo Ah), who is targeting some members of the military brass for revenge after her beloved father's suspicious death. After long-buried secrets begin to emerge, Do Bae Man finds himself reevaluating what it is he really wants to do with his life. (Viki)

EXTRAORDINARY ATTORNEY WOO

Woo to the Young to the Woo! The series follows Woo Young Woo, a young lawyer on the autism spectrum. She's got a brilliant legal mind, able to see different angles of a case but struggles with day-to-day interactions. Fortunately, she has the people looking out for her, like her dad, her boss/mentor, her law school friend and, of course, the handsome support team member who might just have more than friendship in mind. Park Eun Bin is brilliant as Woo Young Woo, she truly gets you invested in her challenges and triumphs. The legal maneuverings are fairly interesting, especially when they involve a rival law firm and somebody from WYW's past. (Netflix)

ALCHEMY OF SOULS

In the land of Daeho, an assassin trapped in a blind woman's weak body encounters a young lord from a powerful family who needs help to unlock his powers. Interesting lead and supporting characters, solid world-building, fantastic sword and sorcery action? I was sold from the very beginning. At the end of the second ep, I was absolutely in love with the feisty Mudeok and her rather bratty young master/pupil Jang Uk who just wants his gate of energy opened so he can do what everybody can — cast spells and use a sword. There's a twist at the end of the 20-episode first season, and I guess your enjoyment of the second season would largely depend on how much you accept the change. But in both seasons, the crown prince remains quite the scene stealer and he's possibly my most favorite character of all. (Netflix)

UNDER THE QUEEN'S UMBRELLA

A truly female-driven drama — from the queen and the queen dowager down to the concubines and, yes, even the court ladies. The series begins with Queen Hwa Ryeong's biggest problem being the four grand princes' rather relaxed approach to their education, lagging behind the other sons of the king via his numerous scheming concubines. But tragedy strikes and the queen and her sons suddenly find themselves fighting to make sure they don't lose not just their positions but their very lives. Kim Hye Soo makes it so easy to root for the embattled queen who wields her position and her eyebrows skillfully to thwart ministers, concubines and her mother-in-law, the queen dowager. I also love that her sons, the four grand princes, are unlike other royal brothers in sageuks — they are close, affectionate and loyal, leaving the dirty tricks to their half-brothers. This series probably has the most satisfying ending among the ones I watched last year. (Netflix)

REBORN RICH

Yoon Hyun Woo is a hard-working, loyal, no-questions-asked employee of the powerful Jin Family, which controls the Soonyang Group. One day, on an overseas errand to retrieve some secret money, he is betrayed by someone in the family and murdered — but promptly finds himself "waking up" in the body of the youngest grandson of the Jins, back in 1987. How, you ask? I finished the series but that part is still unclear. What's clear is how charismatic and believable Song Joong Ki is as the twentysomething investment whiz Do Jun. And what an amazing actor Lee Sung Min, as Soonyang chairman and patriarch Jin Yang Cheol is. The push-pull in their relationship is what made the series work for 15 episodes. Not that the supporting cast members are slackers. This is one of the best ensembles I've ever seen, the actors really working to make these characters ones you'd love to hate. Some of the business stuff might put off viewers but I found the whole thing fascinating and easily understood. I cheered when Do Jun/Hyun Woo used his knowledge of the future as well as his relatives' greed to take pieces of Soonyang. I'm recommending this series but with a caveat: I found the ending a bit of a mess and rather unsatisfactory. BUT the previous 15 episodes are fantastic and definitely worth a watch. (Viki)

Bonus recommendations

I recently started dipping my toes into Chinese dramas, even though I'm still intimidated by the episode count. "Love Between Fairy and Devil" is sweet and hilarious and has fantastic special effects. (Netflix and Viki)

But my heart truly belongs to Li Wei and the sixth young prince of Xin State as they figure out family, politics and love as their "New Life Begins." (Viki)

Last but certainly not the least, "Pachinko," which even though it stars some of the biggest names in Korean entertainment is not considered K-Drama by its creators. Based on Min Jin Lee's critically acclaimed novel, the series — Youn Yuh Jung, Lee Min Ho and Kim Min Ha are key parts of the ensemble — follows the trial and tribulations of a Korean family over four generations. The story begins in Korea, moves to Japan and eventually spreads to the United States. The story is rich and emotional, the direction precise and the acting superb. It has been recognized in a lot of year-end lists and recently won the Critics Choice Award for best foreign language series. (Apple TV +)

[jeongyunhoed]

As seen on my FF.net Also seen on my Ao3

Following the events of fifth year, a new adventure awaits for Norah Lee. Boys, exams, school events, common room parties, and old foes outside of Hogwarts. Even battling pensieve guardians was easier than this.

Main Pair: OC/? Genre: Adventure/Angst/Fluff (it's a little of everything, tbh)

KEEP IN MIND: Characters are aged up (even if the story's got them in sixth year) to make it more appropriate. Time period is leaning towards the modern day so in case you might find anachronisms in the dialogue or references, this is why. This may also be quite a lengthy fic too.

BE WARNED: Social anxiety, mentions of blood and injury, grief, drinking, kissing but nothing more than that, death (this is Hogwarts Legacy, after all)

P.P.S: I forgot Norah and Ominis kind of matched outfits. That will be something to talk about over time, hehe. But partying ahead! There are several Gryffindor party audios on Youtube that you can listen to (Youtube user Christine has the most immersive ones, with actual speaking audio).

The song by the way is Hard to Beat by Hard-Fi. I know, very 2000s. haha.

Masterlist

Chapter 11

Their linked arms didn't stay linked for long as they made their way to Gryffindor tower, just past the faculty tower. It seemed like most of the sixth years had partnered up for the party following Professor Ronen's assignment. Making new friends, possibly a date to the Yule Ball that was still a few months away. Norah and Ominis looked around for a sign of Sebastian, who was already waiting for them near the Fat Lady portrait.

Clad in jeans and a black tee under a green bomber jacket, Sebastian also fixed his hair similar to Ominis, with one lock falling just a little over his forehead. The three of them seemed to have coordinating outfits. Then again, it seemed like many students dressed in shades of their house colors. Unlike Ominis, Sebastian seemed to be aware that he was seen as one of, if not the most handsome Slytherins in the school.

"Looking good, looking good," Sebastian gave them a thumbs up as they approached him. "Natty told me the password in advance. I saw Amit and Samantha already enter with them."

"You look handsome yourself," Norah smiled. "I would've thought Cressida was going to meet you here."

The freckled brunette rolled his eyes at her teasing, while Ominis chuckled. "Very funny, you-" He stopped himself. You beautiful creature, you amazing human, maybe love of my life, he thought. Sebastian cleared his throat. "Well then, shall we revel in the festivities?" He grinned.

The trio approached the painting, with Sebastian already saying the password. Loud music greeted them as they crawled inside the portrait hole. Everyone around them was already enjoying themselves, as if a live band was performing all throughout the common room. There were barrels of butterbeer flowing in cups being passed around to everyone while sweets and pastries from Honeydukes were on the table, along with other savory fare taken from the kitchens.

Norah looked around, spotting Nellie crawling on top of the fireplace mantel, much to the cheers of some of the partygoers. To her surprise, several other Gryffindors were holding drinking games in one corner, as someone smuggled in some firewhisky. "It sounds like everyone's having so much fun!" Ominis tried to tell her.

"Yeah! We should have fun too!" She looked at her two friends, who were beginning to nod along to the music that was playing.

I've seen you darling, seen you hanging round town You in a short skirt, shining eyes of deep brown You had a dirty look, you caught me on your hook Turn up the thermostat, I want to see you sweat Oh yeah, girl you got, somethin' I like

Norah spotted Garreth, who was already introducing his new brew, fizzing whizz-beers, which seemed to be a success. At least it seemed like a success from seeing how many people have been drinking it. "Let's go get some of Garreth's new brew!" She told them.

"Is that even safe?" Sebastian grinned, waving at Garreth, who was also waving them to come over. "He hasn't created a mess yet, hasn't he?"

"Are we drinking?" Ominis suddenly asked.

"Yeah, come on, Ominis, it's only for tonight," Norah tried to convince him. "Everyone seems to like it"

With some reluctance, Ominis let himself be led by Norah and Sebastian over to Garreth, who immediately conjured some cups to fill with his new drink. "Just got here?" He asked.

"Yeah, a few minutes ago, actually!" Norah said near his ear, while he passed the drinks to them. "You seem to have succeeded in your new brew, huh?"

Garreth looked proud. "Yeah! Drink as much as you like, there's going to be plenty more in the months to come~" He declared.

The three of them took sips of the drink, with Norah raising a brow at the taste. She turned to Garreth. "This just tastes like butterbeer mixed with firewhisky and some really strong ale," She said.

The freckly redhead laughed. "Because it is!"

Norah, Sebastian, and Ominis gaped, looking around at how tipsy some had already gotten, perhaps after downing several already since the party started. Realizing how good the drink tasted, they took another long drink. Garreth was more than happy to refill their cups, cheering in between, when a Gryffindor seventh year stood up on one of the tables and loudly sang the song.

I walked right over, said, 'Hi how ya doin?' You smiled at me and girl, you tore right through me I said, come on let's dnce, we've got to take our chance You whispered in my ear, you wanna get out of here

The crowds of students were singing along to the song, which Norah enjoyed watching as the party went on. "We should find Natty, Poppy, and Amit, shouldn't we?" She turned to them again, after another drink.

Can you feel it? Rockin' the city Ah yeah, straight out of nowhere-ness Like a fist, can't resist you, oh no, I tell you somethin'

"This drink isn't so bad after all, I have to give you credit, Weasley," Ominis took another drink before Garreth refilled his cup. "All the explosions and messes in Sharp's class ended up for something good."

Garreth looked proud, but there was a glint in his eye that made Norah think he was being mischievous. After all, they were still inside Hogwarts. "I hope you've got some pepper-up potion on hand, Garreth, some of these people might wake up with a hangover tomorrow"

"I've got that sorted out, it's brewing upstairs. Just have fun, you three, enjoy the first of four house parties this year, Merlin knows we need it," Garreth assured her, seeing Ominis ask for yet another refill, claiming that despite what it was made of, he didn't feel a thing. Sebastian was also leaning toward the same way.

You know I love ya, just wanna touch ya Stand up, knock me right off my feet Hard to beat, hard to beat, hard to beat

The music seemed to hit a crescendo, making everyone cheer and sing along, dancing in their spots. Soon enough, the resident Gryffindor prefects along with some seventh years, moved the chairs and couches to the side. They were clearing the way for people to dance in the middle. Norah downed her drink before asking Garreth for another.

While she was in a good mood earlier, it had only occurred to Norah that maybe she needed a bit of a break. Everyone else was certainly letting off some steam by drinking, eating, and dancing tonight. Even Grace Pinch Smedley, who seemed to be the most composed among their fellow Slytherins, was already dancing with some Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. Looking almost unrecognizable with the way she styled her hair and her party outfit, Grace was definitely letting go of her inhibitions to have fun.

Nellie, who was earlier drinking while standing on the mantel, had begun dancing on top, to louder cheers from the crowd gathered around her. Among those was Leander, whose cheeks were already red because of Garreth's drink. Feeling like it was safe, Norah got another refill.

Let's spend the night, spend the night together Heart beating so fast, as you take my shirt off This girl I saw round town, well now she's going down Stuck on a losing streak, I think you've turned it round Oh yeah, girl you've got, something I like

"Care to dance, anyone?" Norah asked, even glancing at Garreth. "I love this song"

Ominis hesitated, willing himself to slow down on the drinks. "Not really sure dancing is my style," Sebastian replied with some reluctance.

"Dance? I think I've got two left feet," Ominis replied.

Read all about it, have you heard the latest? Boy in a band dates a Hollywood actress But baby you and me, we came up from the street No time to hesitate, we've got to push our weight

"Suit yourselves, I will," Norah grinned, gesturing Garreth to come with her. The redhead almost immediately left his spot by the barrel to join her. Even if Garreth's dancing could be described as similar to that of an old person, he was fun, even mouthing the words along with Norah, the two of them laughing at how silly they're being.

Can you feel it? Rocking the city Ah yeah, straight out of nowhere-ness Like a fist, can't resist you, oh no, I tell you somethin'

The music, the drinks, the atmosphere, Norah felt like she could get lost in all of it. It was so supremely happy and energetic. Or it might have been the drinks that was making her feel and think that way. She was having so much fun dancing with Garreth, the two of them singing along as if to each other.

"I knew that would put a smile on your face," Garreth whispered near her ear, the two of them went back into dancing as silly as they could get. "Take it easy on the drinks, wouldn't want the Hogwarts heroine to get piss drunk, after all"

Norah laughed. "Don't worry, Garreth, enjoying myself tonight is all I'm thinking about."

"Good, you've earned it" Garreth assured her. "I'm glad you're having fun so far. It's your first Hogwarts house party."

"Yeah, it's so much fun! I mean, I expected this from Gryffindors," Norah teased. "I told Leander the same thing the other day."

Garreth looked proud. "It'll only be even more fun from now on. Hufflepuff's hosting the next one. Here's a tip, make sure to come in hungry. They've got the best food."

"I figured," Norah nodded.

You know I love ya, I just wanna touch ya Stand up, knock me right off my feet Hard to beat, hard to beat, hard to beat

"Hey!" Natty and Henry soon appeared to Sebastian and Ominis. Both of them were also holding their drinks. "It's so much fun, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Sebastian nodded. "You can't tell but I'm absolutely enjoying myself. After those NEWT lessons and homework, I think we deserve this."

"Hear hear," Henry raised his cup, making Sebastian clink with his in a toast. "I heard about the bet as to who Norah's summoner is, by the way. Did she say anything?"

That seemed to make Ominis stand up straight, letting out a hiccup. "Did you join in the bet?" He asked.

Henry chuckled. "No, not really. But some of my friends certainly did. Their cornish pasties are on you, Gaunt," He glanced at the blonde, who looked surprised. Sebastian seemed to be just as surprised at the mention of the bet. "Those who bet on Sebastian over here have had to fetch some from Hogsmeade now that they know they've lost."

"Norah hasn't said anything about who summoned her name yet, but I think she already knows who it is," Natty said, clinking her cup with Henry's as they took a drink. "Based on the letters she got from him, the one who summoned her must be absolutely mad for her."

"Got it down bad, has he?" Sebastian muttered, looking down at his drink, trying his hardest not to feel or look annoyed by what Natty and Henry were saying. "Well, maybe Garreth's the one who summoned her, since she's dancing with him right now."

"Weasley, eh?" Ominis muttered, following another hiccup.

Goodness No, I've never known a night like this, can't believe it You're so hard to beat, hard to beat

The song that was playing slowed down for a moment, and Norah and Garreth stopped. "So Garreth, who summoned you? Or...who did you summon?" She asked curiously. Even if she knew Ominis was the one who summoned her name, she wondered about the redhead standing in front of her.

"Well-" Garreth sputtered, a little flustered at the question. "If it's alright, I'd rather not say."

"Alright, I won't press for more details, but it does seem like you planned to summon someone but couldn't, hmm?" Norah raised a brow. Before Garreth had the chance to speak, the music went up again, the dancing even more upbeat. "Then don't think about that for now, let's just dance!"

"I couldn't agree more!"

Drive me crazy, my beautiful baby Let's spend the whole day right here together

He wasn't sure if it was the drink he made everyone, including himself, take as they enjoyed the festivities, but Garreth was feeling bold. His mother would always call alcoholic drinks like that liquid courage, a legal version of Felix Felicis. Garreth took another step closer, the two of them dancing in sync while mouthing the words to the song.

"Norah," He said near her ear. "How'd you like to come to Hogsmeade with me sometime? We can go to Madam Puddikin's if you want."

She leaned back a little. "Are you asking me out, Weasley?" She teased.

"Maybe, I just want to make sure," He replied, a small smirk forming on his lips. "But we can also go as friends, though. Maybe check out the brew I've been making in Honeydukes."

"Oh?...You like me, Garreth?" Norah stared at him. "Why?"

"Because you're cool, and I don't mean this because you're the Hogwarts heroine and all," Garreth quickly explained, his cheeks hot. "I mean-I-I just, I just think you're great."

Norah glanced at her friends, who were standing at the side, watching them with pleased expressions, including Ominis. Henry also looked at the two of them with an approving look. "You think I'm great?"

"Yeah, who wouldn't be?" Garreth said, the confidence in his voice getting replaced with a slight nervousness. "So, Hogsmeade sometime?"

She chuckled, finding the sudden shyness endearing. Her heart was suddenly pounding, not expecting that Garreth would think of asking her out. She suddenly wasn't sure how she felt about Garreth. He had a talent for inadvertently getting into trouble, but always had good intentions. There were times in Potions that she wondered how his mind worked, with all his ideas for concoctions that for half the time, ended up making a mess.

Still, Garreth was one of the most-liked students in their year, perhaps the one that balanced out Leander's uptight nature and Nellie's rather thrill-seeking personality. Their dynamic just reminded Norah of hers with Sebastian and Ominis, and she found it amusing.

"Not sure you can handle me, though," Norah teased. "Perhaps we can hang out at Hogsmeade. Butterbeers at Three Broomsticks, maybe a visit to Zonko's?"

There was something in what Norah said that made the redhead curious. "I know about those rumors of what you've done in fifth-year. Honestly, I regret not asking to tag along if it was that eventful."

She laughed. "Spiders, acromantulas, poachers, loyalists, trolls, dugbogs, and everything that's out to kill people in between. You've got to channel Gryffindor's courage in all of those."

"I would've if you brought me along," Garreth pointed out with a grin. "That would've provided the perfect opportunity for me to test out my brews."

You know I love ya, I just wanna touch ya Stand up, knock me right off my feet Hard to beat, hard to beat, hard to beat Oh yeah, girl you've got, something I like Oh yeah, girl you've got, something I like

"Is Norah still dancing with Garreth?" Ominis suddenly asked.

"Yeah, she seems to be having a good time," Sebastian replied, helping himself to another refill. He was starting to feel the drink's effects, but if he wanted to let loose for a little bit, another round wouldn't hurt, right? At least that's what he thought, while partly drying to drown out the growing feeling of jealousy from seeing Norah continue to enjoy Garreth's company.

Looking around, it seemed like Andrew and Poppy were still deep in conversation, their faces getting closer the more they talked. Sebastian immediately averted his gaze, knowing that Andrew and Poppy were bound to be an item soon.

"Did you summon anyone?" Ominis nudged him, transfiguring the drink into water for him to drink. "Or did your name get summoned?"

The question made Sebastian frown. "Yeah, Cressida Blume summoned my name, and she said it was accidental."

"You're lucky then. I heard Blume is good with non-verbal spells."

"Yeah, we nearly got caught up in Horklump Hollow earlier," Sebastian muttered, making the blonde whip his head toward his friend. "Norah was following a lead on Harlow in Upper Hogsfield."

"You were in Upper Hogsfield too?" Ominis sounded annoyed.

Sebastian hummed. "Yeah, I was to meet Cressida there since there was a shop she was going to. Poppy was there too, and we caught Norah trying to approach the poacher-filled cave. We followed her and went inside to spy on them."

"Oh," Ominis muttered.

Given his friend's tipsy state, Sebastian had an idea. "You wouldn't tell them who you summoned, or who summoned you. Who is it?"

Ominis slowly tilted his head toward the two people dancing nearby. "I can't tell you just yet, but I will say it was quite difficult to write a good poem, or think of a good riddle-" He stopped, realizing what he said.

But Sebastian immediately figured it out. "You're the one who summoned Norah? But when could you have done that?"

"When you were still asleep, or still in the Great Hall, I took the chance after hours," Ominis replied. "When no one was around in the grounds."

Sebastian glanced at her, laughing as she kept dancing with Garreth. "Accidentally too?"

Ominis shook his head. "No, I summoned her name, even before Prewett or Weasley could."

He wanted to laugh but somehow he couldn't. If Sebastian wasn't already jealous of Garreth for dancing so easily with Norah, he couldn't help but also feel jealous of Ominis for doing what he did. It seemed silly to even be jealous of Ominis. He was his most trusted friend. Yet, he wondered: Did Ominis like Norah too?

[foggyparadisecandy]

[TW: dark shit ahead]

Ok - another venting post - disregard - go read one of my horny hypno stories or a trance instead lol

Click here for trances

We all have our stories to tell. I don't think mine is horrible tbh but ... that's probably because I survived it and learned to minimalize it - like all survivors do.

"It's ok" "It's fine" "I'm ok" "Oh it wasn't that bad"

My therapist has assured me none of those things are true lol

My child mind couldn't process it and so I just learned patterns and behaviors to accept it in as my reality.

I had a loving healthy family up until I was 8 years old.

My mom had a horrible life-altering health scare - was taken away to the hospital by paramedics in the middle of the night - one of my last few memories from my childhood. My dad stood sobbing - the last time I saw an emotion from him that wasn't anger.

My younger bro and I were shuttled between relatives for a period of time - no idea how long - weeks? months? no clue

We were taken in to the hospital to see my mom at some point - banged up - shaved head - looking creepy as hell to our young eyes.

And ... this was horrific to me ... she told us - I'm sure it was based in kindness to prepare us - that she was given a year to live.

Well ... good news ... she lived a lot longer than that.

Bad news is she was horribly damaged from the brain injury and subsequent trauma of the life-altering experience. To compound things, my dad turned to drinking heavily and escaping us all in the bottom of a bottle.

I never again felt my father's love.

And my mom was mixed at best. Up and down. I would say somewhere along the lines she developed bipolar disorder - manic and depressive.

She would love us obsessively. She would threaten to kill us. I was always the one who had to walk her off the ledge - telling her I'm sorry we were bad kids. Telling her I'm sorry we upset her. Telling her we would be good from now on. Telling her we wanted to live.

She would bend over backwards to make us feel good. She would threaten to burn the house down while we were sleeping. Well ... how the fuck do you sleep well at night with that information? Gee mom ... that sounds awful. Will you please not do that? I slept with one eye open until finally I just accepted it - I could die at any moment because my mom was a nut.

She taught me to shoplift. When I got caught, she threw me under the bus and told the security guard that I was a problem child. HAHAHA ... I was a goody two shoes child. Having my mother tell a stranger I was a problem was quite a thing to hear. She apologized after and told me to never shoplift again. Fuck that. I kept stealing shit until I was in my late teens. I WANTED TO GET CAUGHT AND PUNISHED.

So yeah ... I know other people have had it hard. And honestly ... I really never felt it was challenging. I just learned to feel bad and anxious all the time. I learned that I was never good enough and things were always uncertain. Loved ones hurt you.

I know a lot of people who have learned that lesson in different ways.

I can identify hurt people instinctively. I gravitate to them. I've always been attracted to them.

Especially hurt women. I want to nurture them, comfort them, love them, care for them, help them, fix them, support them - just like I learned to do with my fucked up mom. It's no wonder my parting with my lovely pet was so difficult.

And I learned to not express emotions. I learned to be the stoic one. The problem solver. But ... I'm not really stoic at all. I love with a burning intensity - desperate to care and take care of others - especially hurt women. I invest my emotional well-being in this activity.

I don't love ALL women. But if I love you, I FUCKING LOVE YOU. And I know that's a blend between nice and awful tbh. I can drown people in love. Uncharitable sorts might say I love bomb people but I don't do it with ill intentions. I do it because it's my damage. And it's unhealthy for me.

Ugh.

Knowing these things is only partially helpful. I need to address them, sort them, heal them as best as I can, identify when I fall into unhealthy patterns, and ... grow ... somehow.

Whatever. This is why I'm seeing a therapist. To sort through all this horrible horrible horrible shit.

I need to do it. I'm motivated to do it. I'm sick of being insecure and depressed all the time. With the darkness always at the corner of my mind telling me I'm a piece of shit no matter how much love I try to put out in the world. No matter how much I achieve.

Fuck. Parents fucking suck.

It took me decades to be ok with not loving my dad - feeling obligated to love that mother fucker. He abandoned us to alcohol. He fucking gave up on us because he was a coward and afraid to face the challenges we had. WE NEEDED THAT FUCKER AND HE RAN!

FUCK. No wonder I have abandonment issues. My ex KNEW THIS SHIT. God was she so awful in the end. She had her own shit she was dealing with. I forgive her 100% but it was still so fucking cruel of her.

Ah well. Working on it.

[starlightyellow]

Starlight's Weekly Finds 3/20-3/27

Hi! My name is Starlight and I want to push myself more to post more of what I like on my account, so what better way to do that then to throw all my niche interests in a post to encourage others to talk about them too! This newsletter will consists of a read, a music wrap, and a movie of the week. As this goes, I'll add more or less depending. thanks for tuning in this week and I hope you come back for the next.

Read of The Month

This week I'd finally gotten around to getting a digital library card from @queerliblib ! The Queer Liberation Library is a free digital library the is entirely comprised of books created by LGBT+ BIPOC authors. They have such a ride variety of audiobooks and scanned copies that I feel there's something for everyone. To apply for a library card is free, however please be mindful it may be a bit of a wait for your library card depending on when you apply. I was lucky and received mine within like a few days of applying. All info to learn more and to apply will be on the @queerliblib socials.

I'm currently reading Between Perfect and Real by Ray Stoeve. It follows a trans guy named Dean who is recently cast as a major male lead in a school play. The story follows how Dean navigates his transition while also juggling graduating school and making it to an acting school in New York. I'm about halfway through and I highly recommend.

Music Wrap of the Week.

Okay so this section alone will probably turn into it's own individual post at some point considering I finally am getting into KPOP. I'm focusing on girl groups right now and I've listened to ALOT this week. Here's only a few of my favorites from the week.

QWER: Secret Diary

Okay, I give. This first song is technically a band as opposed to a girl group. However, their music is so good I have to let it slide. Debuting on October 18 2023, QWER is a South Korean girl band consisting of 4 members(shown below). QWER is such an interesting Kpop group to me with the members pulling inspo and influence from American bands like Slipknot and Red Hot Chilli Peppers. They bring something a little different that I really love.

Pictured left to right: Magenta(24), Hina(23), Chodan(25), and Siyeon(23).

XG: Winter Without You

The next on the list came as a pleasent surprise, because I didn't know I had heard a song from them before. You may know this 7 member group from their song Shooting Star, which is a great song, but just a little played out after the sped up version went viral on TikTok. Winter Without You leans more into the RNB aspect of the group's concept, and it makes me feel like Christmas should be here again. If you like modern holiday songs or were a big fan of Ariana Grande's album Christmas and Chill, this song was made for you.

Pictured left to right from top row to bottom: MAYA(18), Hinata(21), Juria(19), Harvey(21), Cocona(18), Jurin(21), and Chisa(22).

Loossemble- Real World

LOOSSEMBLE is a group that caught my eye from their single Sensitive, but Real World I feel is an underrated song on their debut album. Debuting September 15, 2023 LOOSEMBLE consists of 5 members(PICTURED BELOW). This is a new subdivision of the girl group LOONA, with some members also being from LOONA 1/3 respectively. Just like with my other recs this week, the whole debut album is a bop tbh. Honorable mention for Strawberry Soda track as well. I haven't really gotten in my LOONA bag just yet, but if it's anything like LOOSSEMBLE, I'm fully sat.

PICTURED LEFT TO RIGHT: Go Won(23) ,Hyeju(22),Hyunjin(23) ,VIVI(27), and Yeojin(21).

Movie of the Week : TMNT (2007 Film)

To say I'm a TMNT fanatic would be an understatment. No matter what gen TMNT is in, I can always find something to cherish about every form of content that been pumped out ofer the years. More praise should be given to this film as a whole. Yes at points the animation of the turltes can be a little.... jarring to say the least.

However, the storyline is so good I can overlook the jumpscare that is having to look at them during certain scenes. This is one of this first instances on screen prior to the Michael Bay films that I felt really allowed Leo to be more than just a leader to his brothers.

Leonardo in most depictions up until recent years was always shown as the levelheaded leader who rarely has a genuine spat with his team and if he does, it usually has to do with the stress from being a leader and not neccesarily with having to be a brother.

This film follows the turtles after Leo returns from what was supposed to be a few months' mission that turned into a year and him trying to recollect his team. You have Mickey and Donnie who are elated the Leo is home, while Raph carries on as though nothing has changed, almost mad that Leo had the gull to come back.

This boils over into a moving fight scene between Raph and Leo, but the difference from this onscreen arguments between the two than the ones at the time were that they allowed Leo to argue, even physically fight Raph but not as his leader. It was a his genuine brother. They allow Leo to get fed up and tired of Raph's attitude enough to give into the preconceived notion that Raph thinks Leo has about him. If you haven't seen it, I would make it a point to. Especially for this scene alone. Def a 5/5 in my book.

And that's a wrap! Thank you so much for reading my first put together blog post!

[guessknee]

about me !

aka me nerding out about things i like

Video Games !

the aesthetics, soundtracks, art, landscapes, everything about video games i love. i love playing jrpgs, visual novels and rhythm games. i love watching streams of all types of games though!

currently into watching apex legends, league of legends, valorant, csgo (on occasion), breath of the wild, and some older jrpgs.

i have a goal of beating one major game a month! i love playing games but i often buy too many at once and then play one while forgetting about the others. i dont know if anyone else has that problem so i made a system (gonna get really nerdy for a second) where i track video game releases im interested in for each of my consoles and i pick one game from each month to play and hopefully beat and one game to buy a collectors edition for (if available).

recently completed games

dec-feb

god of war ragnarok

crisis core reunion

one piece odyssey (almost complete 80% of the way done)

games im excited to play soon

the persona ports (jan release)

fire emblem engage (jan release)

octopath traveler 2 (feb release) - collectors edition preorder!

theatrhythm final bar (feb release)

kirbys return to dreamland (feb release)

story of seasons (jan release)

mobile games im playing

twisted wonderland

ensemble stars

genshin impact (on and off)

consoles i own (i have a weird thing with clue consoles and handhelds - i never realized i always bought blue ones till a about a year ago maybe its because i loved sonic as a kid...)

ps5

ps4

ps2

switch (animal crossing)

psp (light blue)

ps vita (light blue/white)

wii (i never use it)

ds

2ds (blue)

dsi (light blue)

Anime / Manga !

i love anime and manga. ive grown up with it ever since i was around 5. i would stay up on saturday nights till 7 am when inuyasha would start playing on adult swim. if i was ever too tired i would record the episode on our dvr and would watch it after getting home from kindergarten. crazy age to watch inuyasha but i always found it so cool.

also grew up on naruto. i am such a naruto nerd i have rewatched the og and shippuden so many times i can tell people which episode events happened, i can sing the openings in order, i can name most characters, etc. the naruto brainrot is bad. same thing with bleach and dragonball z. the new bleach has me so hyped i loved watching every episode made me want to rewatch the main series but i have no time so i just watch small clips here and there.

i love just about every genre of anime tbh. sports animes (baki, hajime no ippo, kengan asura, one outs, eyeshield 21, etc). idol animes (idolish 7, tsukiuta, tsukipro, etc). shounen, mystery, shoujo, literally everything. i have to be in a certain mood to watch mech animes but whenever one comes out that catches my eye i put all my energy into watching it. i think the only genre i dont enjoy much is isekai, i used to like them but new ones come out too often i cant keep up.

currently watching

one piece (caught up)

blue lock

buddy daddies

monster

vinland saga s2

trigun stampede

yowapeda limit break

tokyo revengers s2

Cars !

my day to day guilty pleasure is cars. i love cars. they are cool, go fast, go stutututu, whine, be loud, have cool lights, i love everything about a good car.

i have a brz! bought it myself and it is my pride adn joy. it is one of my favorite cars and when i bought it in november i literally cried. I drive manual and its so fun to me! i want to learn how to drift but im a bit nervous because i dont want to accidentally mess up anything in my car.

Reading !

i love books i love reading. i love fiction, sci-fi, philosophy, nonfiction, fanfiction, everything. I was never into books like harry potter and anything with too many magical elements in them but always loved horror and more mystery thriller books.

i have been dying to buy more physical books to add to my mini library in my room but theres a few books on my backlog i need to complete before i do that.

i also have a slowly growing manga collection that i desperately need to add to.

i read all day all night on my phone but the feeling of flipping real pages is so satisfying and having the weight of a book in my bag is just so nice.

Music !

not to toot my own horn but my spotify wrapped minutes is always 140k+. i listen to music all day everyday. while doing homework, reading, driving, working, in class (pay attention dont be like me), watching stuff it doesnt matter. i have a terrible habit of getting bored of something very easily so i always multitask and need 20 things happening at the same time so music is amazing at keeping me focused.

i love 'underground archive', rnb, krnb, jpop, citypop, lofi, rap, edm, literally a whole lot of stuff. i dont like pop that much ive grown to realize same with country, i can listen to it but only if someone else wants to.

thats it! literally my whole being in a post.

[esha-isboogara]

jojo’s bizarre porn tropes

publishing even MORE headcanons before i finish the first set ? an absolute iconic move from me tbh. i went crazy with my tags bro😩but anyways enjoy this …i will do more characters if i can come up with more tropes

here’s part two

jonathan - he’s very vanilla so your videos fall under the passionate category. jonathan takes the act of making love very seriously so expect to cum at least twice in one session. he won’t over stimulate though , he gives you a pleasant high. y’all don’t post a lot but when you do it’s usually a movie that will have the viewers drooling.

joseph- amateur porn. he isn’t too fond on setting up a camera and having a script or whatever. he’d much rather record you giving him head or maybe a lil pov of back shots. joseph makes sure you’re featured on his only fans regularly. videos are usually no longer than 5 minutes.

jotaro- big dick small girl trope. my god this man is hung. people watching your videos are always slightly worried for your safety. how does it fit? women all around the world want to be you. some of the more aggressive sessions almost always lead to concerned comments. jotaro does have a bit of a reputation so he refuses to show his face along with yours.

kakyoin- not a trope but most of your posts are cosplay related. dressing up as your favorite anime characters and fucking for money is a dream come true. a lot of work goes into your videos mainly because of the well put together costumes and make up looks. the entire look gets ruined in the end but presentation is a big deal. the two of you have a cute set up. it’s high effort but the rewards are so worth it.

josuke- innocent boy and experienced woman. he still won’t say it out loud but he is a total bottom so having you top him/take control is perfect. josuke will use titles like “step mom gives new son blowjob during dinner” to catch a persons attention. or so he says. you’d swear he has a bit of a thing for it. your videos are usually a bit longer and medium effort.

giorno- very beautifully done/well put together porn. people who watch the two of you enjoy modern art and pretty landscapes. it’s essentially art house porn. your content is extremely well put together and is pleasing to eye as well as to the dick/pussy. giorno doesn’t much care if his face is recognized-hes a crime lord there’s not much anyone can do at this point.

leone- rough sex! the people who watch your videos are sickos and the others are worried for your safety. lots of tying up, whipping, slapping and abuse of your little hole. don’t worry it’s all consensual and monitored.

bruno- pov style porn. honestly an iconic move from him. he loves to go back and watch your tapes so why not upload them. similar to joseph they’re never longer than five minutes but there’s a good amount of them. occasionally you two will put together tutorials for those less experienced in sex.

jolyne- lesbian! jojo knows how much men love that wlw content so the two of you exploit that fetish to the max. it started off as just a few short clips but as time went on you and jolyne got a whole set up. most of your vids are pretty basic but men especially eat them up so 🤪

hermes- massage porn. she’s always been good with her hands so why not use her abilities for something fun? you guys don’t upload often. not because you don’t want to just because you always forget or get too caught up in what you’re doing.

foo fighters- the two of you were on the weirder side of porn hub. strange toys, story lines and odd outfits. from alien sex to retro porn you’ve done it all. honestly it doesn’t really matter if others find it sexy the two of you enjoy it. it doesn’t take much to convince them to post your videos- it takes longer to explain how the camera works than anything.

[platinumrosetail]

can I request of a brand new animal shiro x male giant werewolf reader reader is loving with everyone plus they get protective when it’s someone they love but the truth is that there always sad because he has friends but he feels like he’s been replaced and he went towards a cafe shop as he enters he relaxes a little as he gets his hot chocolate with a egg sandwich with cheese and ham as he’s eating he gets a call from his boyfriend and his boyfriend yells at him and he breaks up with reader and reader is sad and starts tearing up he then looks at his flower that symbolizes the meaning of the flower plush he’s drawing on his little journal but then he hears the cafes door open and reader noticed shiro and he starts blushing because he looked hot as he’s nervous but the rest you can do anything with it

(A/n: I tbh don’t feel confident I’ll be able to do this as good because of the angst that I’m not used to doing but I hope I do a ok job 😅 gosh I’m nervous about this uh- anyway let’s begin shall we?)

Warnings: noob author, male!reader, angst, depression, maybe a little bit of yandere!shirou, a few changes to help make the story to longer (sorry about that 😅)

Character: Shirou ogami

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve been feeling rather down lately since ever time you tried to contact any of your friends they would always say their busy or don’t feel like it at the moment.

Maybe it was because you’re overprotective of your loved ones, or they found someone better to hang out with than you and they finally got tired of you for that…

You decided to go to your favorite cafe in anima city, it had all of your favorites.

You finally got to the cafe entrance, you took a few minutes to collect yourself from the thoughts that clouded you mind a minute ago.

The owner was a nice kind old bunny beastmen lady who basically treated you like one of her own and whenever you would visit she would make sure to say a greeting and on other occasions she would be able to make conversation with you.

Many other times of those visit would be of you helping her around the cafe when it was just her and another fellow beastmen that worked there as well.

She gave you the usual that you always get when you come here, you of course tried basically the everything on the menu but you usually get the simple order of (f/s)

(I changed the sandwich with (favorite/snack) since some might have different preference to what they eat at a cafe, so sorry about changing that 😅)

You watch many beastmen pass by the cafe along with vehicles being driven on the road as they do their things they have to do.

Your thoughts was interrupted by a bell rings from the door, signaling that someone came into the cafe. You looked over and see a male with pale skin and white hair that is, what you guess, is always dishevel; you could tell that he had droopy eyes but sadly couldn’t see the exact color with how far the two of you are from each other. He has on a light tan trench coat with its collar up, he als has a black clothing underneath the coat. The next thing he had on was a pair of dark grey chinos and dark brown chelsea ankle boots and by the looks of it a dark brown dog collar around his neck with a matching belt on his waist.

(I used the wiki for this)

You quickly looked away so you don’t get caught from staring and because you already have a boyfriend…… but you’re not going to lie that man was sure attractive.

(I know right?! Like look at him!!!! 😍)

You blush out of embarrassment before shaking you head to get rid of the thoughts you had.

It wasn’t until when you were almost done with your food when your beloved boyfriend called you making you excited since you and him can spend some time together like watching a movie while cuddling and eating snack food.

You can hardly wait for that.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

What?

“What…?”

“You’re too overprotective and overbearing, I had enough of it! And you even bullied my friends!!”

You never did that and your boyfriend knows it!

So…

So…. Why is this happening?

The phone call ended even before you could get anymore words out, not even a way to try to tell them that you didn’t in fact to do what they accused of you doing.

But what you didn’t notice as you were in too much of a shock is that your boyfriend- or well ex boyfriend had fear in his voice as he spoke, and how you didn’t notice it at first was because you were also to distracted with the little scenario you had going on in your head

You quickly and hurried to pay the bill before running out, yet you were stopped by gran gran, the bunny beastmen.

“Are you okay?” She ask as she placed her hand on your shoulder, somehow she can reach it but it’s only slightly; you flinch even if you knew it was only her before relaxing.

“Uh- uh, yes, ma’am; I’m fine it’s just I got a call from… a family member! And- and I needed to see what happened…” you felt terrible about lying to her but you didn’t want to burden her with all of your troubles as she had many other things to worry about than you.

“Hmm…… ok… go and make sure everything is alright then.” You thanked her before leaving the cafe fully, but you both knew that what you told her was a lie.

It took two weeks before you were finally able to go out in public, you had spend those very weeks alone in your apartment that you used to share with your now ex boyfriend. You tried calling your friends and family to ask them on what you should do but apparently they all took your ex side rather than yours, you even tried calling your ex to try and explain that they got it all wrong and you would have never down anything to hurt them or the people they loved but it all went to voicemail.

You decided to check in with gran gran since you didn’t really go out unless absolute necessary in those time.

You go through the route you always took with a down casted expression, different from you usual kind smile that would worm up anyone who had a bad day.

Once you got there you quickly head to your usual spot. It wasn’t as busy as before thankfully, you could only guess because of all the raining that was happening and it’s also a good thing you brung your hoodie.

Gran gran soon came over with a soft sad smile trying to cheer you up, it did in fact cheer you up but only a little bit, not enough to properly be yourself again.

“So, tell me what happened….” And so you did.

She comforted you the best she could but sadly she had to get back to work since the rain finally stopped and now in a slight drizzle and that seemed ok for customers to start coming in more.

It wasn’t until a few hours later did she finally came back with food, saying that she would feel guilty if you paid, you tried to at least give her some change as thanks but she guilt tripped you into not paying at all.

“I have someone that I would like for you to meet, he’s always been asking when will you be back here and I promised to have the two of you meet when you came back.” You reluctantly agreed to follow her so she doesn’t have to break a promise and so she doesn’t guilt trip you into following her anyway.

She would have gotten you to follow her either way.

The man she wanted you to meet was the very same man that you saw on the day your now ex broke up with you.

His name was Shirou ogami and apparently he wanted to meet you since you seemed different then the rest of the customers and since he first saw you in the cafe.

Now Shirou’s thoughts were different from yours, with the fact that finally had you all to himself.

The beastmen knew that he shouldn’t have threatened your relationship with the people you loved but they were already slowly distancing themselves from you anyway, so he gave them the little nudge and it all fell into place, well of course all that’s left was that boyfriend of yours, he seriously has to do something with him since Shirou had heard and watch say that you planned to marry the now ex.

You were his!! His alone! He has waited for so long to finally have you so he decided to put in the last piece and have you come to him, and sooner or later you finally did.

The two of you decided to get to know each other while talking in the usual booth you sat at. You didn’t lower your guard as much as you usual do since the recent event had effected you very deeply and it was still freshly new thank goodness that Shirou understood why you act differently than when you usually talked with someone.

He of course already knew all about you, from you likes, dislikes, hobbies, career and many other things.

He wasn’t going to loose you like the last time, he definitely isn’t waiting a millennia (or however long since he became immortal.) to find you in somebody’s else’s arms.

(A/n: I hope you like this as much as I did!!! I sadly had to change some thing so the request could be longer and cause I didn’t really know how to make it without the idea of Shirou being a yandere, also another reason why I did yandere is because I need to practice them as I don’t do them as I need to, so I hope you’re alright with the change and hope you like what I did with it!! Bye! Have a wonderful day/evening/night!!! 😁)

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing xv. | m

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: oral (m receiving), jk and oc in their feelings :c, fluff n cuteness tbh

words: 7, 816

summary: a series of drabbles where you’re confused and jungkook’s confusing

a/n:

im so sorry for the late update but it's finally here!!! it's been a hectic few weeks w my exam preparation coming right around the corner too :c

anyway!!!! we've got some smut after a while 👀so for visual purposes pls imagine jk from the butter mv, specifically his hair and eyebrow piercing ...

i hope you enjoy this chapter !!!

Safety was a very important aspect of your life. Everything that you did, you always weighed the realistic possibilities of you regretting your decision; mind running at one hundred miles per hour while you drew a mental mind map of every possible outcome you could possibly predict. It was exhausting to have your mind immediately come up with worst-case scenarios where the risk was realistically a meagre five per cent against the other ninety-five, but you were a chronic overthinker by nature.

You steered far from doing things that would end up causing more harm to you and your environment because you knew that there was no actual reason why you could justify getting completely wasted at a party. If it was for fun—surely, you’d vehemently oppose that the next morning.

Your friends, or even anyone who knew of you; always lamented you for your tendency to remain in your bubble. You knew that overall, you were an overthinker and that most of the time—nothing of what you conjured would actually happen purely because, well—your friends are still alive, and so were you. You just missed out on ‘fun’.

But old habits died hard. Maybe that was why the most reckless and impulsive thing that you did—was with Jungkook.

Out of all your friends, Jungkook was the one person that really did whatever he could get his hands, feet or body to do.

He was very determined by nature and a natural daredevil at that. You remember on multiple occasions where he and his family went on a family vacation, and he came back with stories of his adventures swinging from the top of a cliff upside down, getting a snake to wrap itself around his neck—and by far the most impulsive one, returning with a small tattoo of said snake on the back of his neck.

Jungkook was so unpredictable that neither of your friends could ever tell what he’d do next. And you supposed that added to his charm, but it didn’t take away from the five stages of absolute shock that you’d go through when you witness another one of his unpredictable tendencies.

Like right now.

“Please say something,” he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck while you can only gape at him.

“Purple.” You blurt.

He blinks before his eyes dart upwards as his finger twiddles a few strands of hair between them.

“Yeah,” he hums, “It looks a little blue in some lights, though.”

You nod your head slowly, still processing what is probably the lesser surprising one between the two things that have you double-taking at his figure when you first greeted him at your door.

“That’s … not all,” you say slowly.

Jungkook offers you a lopsided grin that stirs something in your belly, and you don’t know if it’s his hair, or the fact that he’s starting to wear shorter sleeves as the weather begins to get hotter; his tattoos on display as it trails upon his arm—or if it was because of the—

“Eyebrow piercing?” He raises a brow, particularly the one with the eyebrow piercing as it glints under the natural sunlight that filters in the hallway, “So. Do you like it?” He asks, smile still small as he leans in for you to get a better look.

Your breath hitches when his face gets closer, but not enough for it to be insinuative in any way. It was just you and your weak-willed nature whenever it came to Jungkook. You hoped that he wasn’t able to see the way that your ears undoubtedly redden under the proximity.

“What matters is if you like it, Jungkook,” you remind him softly, shyly looking down to your feet.

He sighs, resting an arm against your doorway in a way that makes him look as large as the width of your door. His gaze is still calm and steady, lips curled ever so slightly as he rests his eyes on you.

“I know. But I care if you like it or not,” he retorts.

You scoff, waving him off, but a small grin still threatens itself onto your face.

“Well you shouldn’t,” you huff.

“Why not?” He hums as he cards a hand through his hair. Even if it’s a bright colour and you’re sure that it required copious amounts of bleach and hours at the salon to get the final result—it still looks soft when he swifts through the locks.

“Because,” you lull, “My opinion doesn’t matter. If you like it and you think it’s pretty then that’s more than enough.”

He clicks his tongue against his cheek before his eyes dart down. You’re still avoiding his gaze because you weren’t ready to have your senses assaulted with the way he’s crowding you in the doorway of your own home.

“You’re trying really hard not to compliment me right now,” he teases.

“I am not!” You splutter, ears turning red. Your eyes dart to your feet. “… but if it matters then … I like it. It’s pretty.”

Jungkook’s grin is nothing short of wide when his head reaches out to smooth your hair out of your face that forces you to look up at him. You attempt to keep your heart beat at bay, even if the way he looks pleased with your futile trial of complimenting him. In reality, you thought it looked more than just pretty. Jungkook looked … hot. He was already attractive as he was, and his confident yet quiet nature made him exponentially hotter—but his long, purple hair and the new eyebrow piercing just made him even sexier.

“It matters.” He smiles, cocking his head to the side as you bashfully step aside to allow him to enter your apartment.

He settles in like he’s the missing piece to the lonely nights you spend on your dining table studying away for a test or an exam. And you suppose that Jungkook’s always fit right in, wherever you were. He was a comfortable presence in your life, even when the two of you were in high school and he’d come over for tutoring lessons. Or when it’d be just you and him in your mother’s car while you taught him how to drive.

Jungkook’s somehow always filled in the other seat in your life when there called for two. Even when you note that he still sits on one foot while the other hangs off the couch, a habit he’s had since he was young, or the way that he’s still stupidly polite not to sprawl himself across your couch like Jimin and Taehyung did whenever they were over. Jungkook’s always been there and you were always there to see.

“So … what’s up?” His voice interrupts the daydream that got you a little more soft than you’d like. You shake your head as you shut the door behind you, turning around to fully face Jungkook.

“The ceiling?” You reply lamely, a soft chuckle escaping your lips when you see him roll his eyes.

“Ha ha,” he mocks, “I meant if there was anything you wanted to talk about. You know—since you texted me to come over.” He finishes with a raise of his brow.

You still as your brain processes his words. You did text him first. You had just finished a lengthy meeting with the student union and didn’t feel like studying just yet—and you just so happened to have been thinking about Jungkook when you caught a glimpse of your phone (when were you not).

You didn’t have a reason, even if your conscience would argue that you did and it was because you missed him. Even if you were the one that needed time. Your heart and mind wanted two different things, but they both revolved around Jungkook. So, you compromised and settled for a simple text.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, shuffling towards your couch as you plop in the loveseat across from him.

He ogles the way that you chose a seat that wasn’t the one that he was sat on. He doesn’t point it out, though. Instead, a firm line settles on his lips before he leans back to your couch, eyes still trained on your figure.

“You don’t need to sound so shy,” he says, “I’ll always come if you’re the one that’s asking.”

Your eyes widen when your head darts up. When you look at him, you swear that you’d melt because he was looking at you with mirth dancing in his eyes. The somewhat dim lighting of your living room made him look so … cosy. He looked more comfortable, probably knowing that you weren’t going to nag at him for manspreading at the way you can only stare. You don’t know if it’s on purpose but you’re sure it is—but Jungkook’s eyebrow piercing is strategically exposed when he raises a brow, flicking his bangs aside. Your brain short-circuits.

“It’s not—I’m not—I’m not …” You stutter when he catches you looking like a deer caught in headlights. But all he does is let out a deep chuckle before reaching an arm out.

You stare at the arm that extends itself, eyes trailing up the limb as you gawk at his tattoos. He wasn’t one to flaunt, even though he didn’t pretend like he didn’t have any. So even your friends didn’t catch much of his tattoos unless he was at the gym or changing during practices with the way he practically lived in long sleeves. But now, it was just you and him, in your living room while he practically invites you over with his smile and doe eyes.

“Come ere’,” he mumbles as you continue to stare, “Next to me, please.”

You blink a few times when you realise that he’s beckoning you over with the arm that’s extended. You buffer for a second when he continues to smile at you with that easy grin of his, the one that’s both able to calm you and reduce you into a mess of nerves. But after a few beats, your limbs start moving at their own accord as you push yourself off the couch, slowly inching towards Jungkook and the empty spot next to him where you plop down into.

“Here?” You ask softly.

He laughs, and it’s a nice sound. Your mind had been muffled ever since he first showed up with that new hairstyle of his and that Godforsaken eyebrow piercing, and now when he looks at you like you were the only thing that he’s ever wanted—your heart can’t take it.

“Closer.” He encourages with a tilt of his head. Then, he delivers the final blow. “Just wanna hold you.”

You freeze, hands stilling on the plush of your couch as you were about to shift closer. The words are still processing in your mind even if you knew exactly what he said and what he meant. The heat on your face was definitely proof of that.

“Oh my God, don’t just say that!” You cry, burying your head into the back of the couch when you turn away from him.

Jungkook’s still laughing at you, hands clutching his stomach instead of trying to reach out for you as you whine into the fabric. He was killing you and your poor heart, and he was doing a damn good job at it. He didn’t need to do much because his presence was always enough to reduce you to absolutely nothing and a pile of mush.

It was this ambiguous back and forth that you’ve settled into with Jungkook after your last serious conversation that had your heart weaker and softer than ever. Every moment you spent with him, even in the crowd of your friends—you knew what you wanted. But there was still an irrational (and insecure) part of you that wanted to wait. To see if he actually meant his confession or was he driven by desperation to keep a friend close.

You should’ve had faith in Jungkook the way he blindly and willingly put in you. Even if you were the more unstable one between the two of you. But your mind worked endlessly to remind you of what the two of you shared, and who you had to share him with—and how she was everything that you weren’t.

“I’m sorry!” He laughs, and you feel a hand reach around your waist to tug you upwards as you squeak at his show of strength. “Was that too much?” He asks softly when you’re facing him, face definitely still flushed as you avoid his face and opt to stare at the chain around his neck.

Even that was making your insides feel funny.

“No …” You mumble, leaning forward until your forehead is pressed against his chest as his fingers drum against your waist. “I’m just shy.”

He chuckles.

“You don’t have to be shy.” He tells you, “It’s just me.”

You blink up and narrow your eyes at him.

“That’s not fair! You can’t just turn up to my house looking like—that—and expect me to be fine!” You huff, gesturing towards his entire frame as he simply listens with an amused raise of his brow.

He tilts his head to the side and even has the audacity to look confused when he smirks at you.

“Me? What did I do? It’s just hair dye and a piercing.”

You huff.

“It’s just hair dye and a piercing,” you repeat in a low voice, clearly meant to represent him as his face scrunches adorably at your impression of him.

“That’s not how I sound like.” He deadpans.

You stick your chin up snootily with a satisfied smile.

“You so do. You sound that dumb with what you just said.” You retort petulantly.

Jungkook stares at you for one long second before he’s pulling you flush against his chest with a wide grin on his face as he attempts to smother you with his arm. You squeal when you feel his fingers around your waist as he squeezes the flesh. He manoeuvres his way around your body until you’re perched on his lap, hands reaching out against his chest so that you could establish some distance (which you fail miserably at).

The room is filled with your gasps and Jungkook’s cackles, and with the way he’s crowding your body with his own—all you can smell is Jungkook. He smells fresh, as always. Especially since he chooses to opt-out of cologne and pays favourable attention to the type of laundry detergent, body wash and shampoo that he uses that gives him the boyish, clean and charming natural scent that he has. And it drives you insane.

So when you look up at him through your lashes in a break when Jungkook’s heaving at how he’s attempted to tickle you, and all you can see is how good he looks with his purple hair paired with the way he unconsciously licks at his lips to wet them; and the eyebrow piercing and tattoos. You melt—and so does your filter.

“Can I suck your dick?”

Granted, that isn’t a question you pose after he’s just tickled you in good faith while giggling away with his doe-eyes, or even the way his hands are placed at a respectful distance away from your bum. And it definitely isn’t a question that Jungkook’s expecting because his eyes shoot wide open, while his foot kicks up hard enough that it crashes against your coffee table.

“W-What?!” He cries, hands gripping your shoulder to push you away so that he can get a proper look at your face.

And it’s on fire.

But you can’t take back your words, especially when Jungkook’s looking like he demands some sort of explanation.

“I—I …” You stutter but your body is lax in his, and your thighs are still straddling Jungkook’s. You aren’t stupid or that naive, so you definitely know the firmness that presses against your inner thigh is a sign that he’s not opposed to your proposition.

Before you can say anything with how your mouth fails you, Jungkook snaps up until your foreheads nearly crash against each other as he presses his palms against your cheeks, staring you intently in the eye until you’re squirming under the scrutiny.

“I don’t hate it.” He assures you softly, but his eyebrows are furrowed. “But I need to hear it from you that you know what you’re saying.”

You blink at him and all Jungkook does is wait for you patiently. What were you saying? That you wanted to suck his dick? You did. You wanted to do a lot of things to and with Jungkook. Curse him for turning up looking the way he did and meddling with your restraint on needing time. But there was a brewing feeling of need in your chest that wants to please Jungkook, that wants to see him quiver under your tongue the way he has had you before. They weren’t all pleasant memories, purely because your poor heart has had to fight to disassociate your feelings from pleasure when you couldn’t do it.

But you’ve never made Jungkook feel good, at least in the way he was able to do for you.

“I-I—” you mumble, eyes darting everywhere but Jungkook’s gaze doesn’t waver at all. You take a deep breath, nibbling on your lips as your eyes dart up to the ceiling before they return to his face. He’s still waiting. “I want to. I really do.” You assure him, your own hands reaching out to clutch at his collar.

Jungkook’s cock twitches in his pants, and you feel it. You give an experimental swivel of your hips because you know it must feel good for Jungkook. And it does with the way his breath hitches, but his hands leave your face to grab at your hips to stop your motions. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but all Jungkook does is sigh.

“You don’t have to …” he whispers, “I—you said you needed time and I don’t want to ruin this. What we have.”

You purse your lips.

“I know I said I needed time but I want to, Jungkook,” you tell him seriously, “What happened before was a product of our miscommunication but it’s different now,” your eyes are firm when they stare into his, your face leaning forward for emphasis, “Unless you don’t want me to—”

“Baby, no,” he reaches out to pull you closer to his chest, “I do. God—I can’t think of anything else but … I don’t want to fuck this up.” His eyes flutter shut as he rests his forehead against your breast bone. It’s not sexual at all, and you can hear the genuine frustration that laces Jungkook’s voice.

“You won’t,” you say softly, reaching a hand through his hair, “I want to learn. I want to learn how to make you feel good too.” You whisper.

Jungkook releases a low groan that makes your stomach clench in desire. You realise that throughout the escapades that the two of you have engaged in, you were the vocal one purely in the sense that you were whining, moaning and sobbing in pleasure at Jungkook’s doing. But Jungkook was vocal in the way he spoke to you. Even if it was mean and you found yourself crying after it happened because he pretended that you didn’t exist—there was something about the way he guides you through your highs in that raspy voice of his that made you cum harder each time.

“You’re serious?” He asks, finally looking up to confirm with you.

You nod your head.

“Dead.”

He nibbles on his lips, as his eyebrows scrunch in focus. He was heavily contemplating your offer and even if you never propositioned any male to suck his dick before, you’ve never heard of a case where they’d be hesitant to receive one. But you and Jungkook were different. You knew what you felt for him, and he knew what he felt for you—and somehow that made your odd request all the more important for the both of you.

“We’ll be okay, right?” He asks hesitantly, afraid. Your eyes soften as you nod.

“I want this, Jungkook.” You tell him again, and you’d repeat it as much as you can for him to know.

He sighs deeply.

“If at any point you feel … overwhelmed … just say the word and we’ll stop, okay?” He says, holding you by the shoulder while he hardens his eyes at you in seriousness. You nod your head as you scramble off his lap in a motion fast enough that Jungkook can’t process it.

Before the both of you know it, you’re on your knees, settled in between his legs as you peer up at him. Your heart was thundering in your chest because you had no idea what the fuck you were doing, but you wanted to do this. All because of that damn hair and piercing of his.

“Your knees,” he murmurs, attempting to tug you up but you’re stubborn when you stay rooted in position, eyebrows furrowed in determination as your jaw ticks.

“Isn’t this how it goes?”

“They’re going to hurt,” he points out.

You roll your eyes before narrowing them at him.

“Do you usually complain this much before you get your dick sucked or what?” You snap, patience wearing awfully thin.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your blunt statement, especially when you reach out to rest your palms on his thighs.

“I don’t mean …” he mumbles, hands gripping the couch because he’s too afraid to touch you, “It’s not like that and you know it.”

You sigh, leaning your cheek against his kneecap and he feels his heart go into overdrive. It was different, with you. This wasn’t just another girl that wanted to suck his dick for his approval or whatever—this was the girl of his dreams, readily waiting to learn how he liked it. Though he’d argue that he’d like anything you do to him because his love-glasses blinded him that way. But there was still fear ebbing away at his heart, terrified at screwing it up even if you were the proposer in this case.

“Jungkook, I’m not going to disappear on you after this,” you say softly, still peering up at him, “I want this.”

Your heart tightens when he hesitantly reaches out to rest a hand between strands of your hair as he tilts your head upwards. Something about just sitting between his legs as they sprawl out wider to accommodate your body seems do domestic and intimate. Even the context of the situation makes you tingle from your fingertips all the way to your toes—you were here to learn, from Jungkook; on what he liked and didn’t.

You didn’t plan this. Admittedly you and Yena have talked on more than one occasion about how you really wanted to sleep with Jungkook—you didn’t have a timeline for it. It felt weird to put a date to it so you shoved the thoughts aside even if they popped up every once in a while. This just so happened to be one of those moments where your mind ventures into a more explicit territory whenever you were with Jungkook.

“I know you need time but …” his eyes flutter shut before he leans his head back into the seat—eyes staring up at the ceiling as if he was searching for answers that he didn’t have with himself. You wait because you suppose that’s the least you could do when you made him wait for you while you attempted to deal with your own feelings. When he looks down, his eyes are gentle yet resolute, “You know I love you, right?”

He sounds nervous even if he’s said it before. But the words don’t fail to make you flush or evoke the tremble in your ribcage—a signal from your body that tells you that it’s only Jeon Jungkook that could ever make you feel this way.

“God,” you huff, but the corners of your lip twitch and that’s enough to tell Jungkook that you did. You knew. “Can you teach me? Please?”

You’re pressing forward again, eagerly shifting on your knees as Jungkook takes one long look at you as if he was memorising this image to eternity. When he decides he’s satisfied, he rests into the seat before gently coaxing your hands away from his thighs and towards his—

“Start here,” he guides with a low voice, large palm encasing your smaller ones as you feel the metal of his zipper come into contact with your skin.

You blush, but you were an overachiever for a reason. The potential embarrassment of fumbling is tucked away in your mind, your only concern and fascination lie with the fact that Jungkook’s already hard that you feel him brush against your wrist.

“Don’t you need to get hard?” You ask softly.

Jungkook blinks before he’s giving you that devastating smile of his, the one where only one corner of his lips turn up into an amused grin while you tilt your head at him in an inquisitive manner.

“I’m really hard right now,” he assures you; and to prove his point, his hand guides yours over the outline of his cock. You gasp because it’s the first time you’ve felt anything but your own intimates in your grasp.

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together, appreciating the way that Jungkook’s beginning to bite on his lips while he focuses his attention purely on you. You knew just from feeling alone that Jungkook was not your averagely-sized male.

“O-Oh,” you breathe when your hands begin to work at their own accord—slowly unbuttoning his jeans, working your way down the zipper. The entire time, you’re occasionally looking up for any signs of approval from Jungkook, the resolved student in you needing appraisal from your teacher. And he picks up on your prompts, smiling at you gently even as his breath begins to turn uneven at the way you’re still gently pulling his pants down.

“You’re doing great,” his hand cards through your hair until his thumb reaches your cheek, rubbing a gentle motion to be paired with his words.

You smile to yourself, feeling more confident to tug his jeans down his thighs. You knew that Jungkook was well-built, it was a fact given that he was an athlete who frequented the gym more than any place on campus. He had impeccable stamina, even before he took football seriously—but the way that his thighs clench under your clammy hands only prove your point. But all you can really focus on is the outline of his cock from his boxers.

“Can I …?” You ask hesitantly, reaching out to tug at the hem of his boxers.

Before you can do anything, his hand stops your wrist as you immediately pause in your ministrations. Your eyes widen, fully ready to pull away in case you did something wrong. What if he didn’t like it? What if he changed his mind or that you were bad—?

“Stop thinking,” he chides, “I want this. I love your hands, anything that you do,” he whispers in reassurance as you swallow. “How about you feel me first? Over the boxers. Baby steps.”

You exhale, nodding your head as your hand reaches to cup his length in your hand. You gasp in tandem with Jungkook, feeling the heat radiate from his dick as you give an experimental squeeze. You look up to gauge his reaction, and you suppose it’s good with the way his breath hitches. He doesn’t say anything and you take that as your cue to continue, your hand squeezing tighter upwards, right before your thumb rubs over what you think is the tip.

“It’s wet,” you blurt.

You’re about to hastily apologise because who the hell points that out before giving someone a blowjob?

“Yeah,” he releases a shaky breath, “I’m so hard right now you have no idea.” He laughs, throwing his head back.

You don’t say anything else, but you continue to work your way up and down his length over the cloth—and for some reason, you feel like it never ends. The heat from his cock, the stirring in your belly or the wetness that begins to accumulate between your own thighs. His hand rests in your hair in a gentle way, simply remaining there as he allows you to have your way on his cock.

That realisation makes you feel the need to go further, so you do. You squeeze until you reach the base of his cock, and you feel the outline of his balls. You briefly read online that some guys liked it when you squeezed—so you did. And Jungkook nearly lurches forward and knees you in the face when you do.

“Fuck, baby,” he chokes in a laugh.

“Sorry,” you mumble, but your heart isn’t there when you grin in satisfaction to yourself. The term of endearment doesn’t fall onto deaf ears either, and it shoots straight to your core.

Deciding that you weren’t happy with just fondling him above his boxers, in one swift motion; said fabric now drapes over his thighs and you’re welcomed with the sight of Jungkook’s engorged cock staring you straight in the face.

You assume it’s bad taste to just stare at someone’s intimates as if you were dissecting the anatomy right as you were about to get down to business. But you couldn’t help it. Jungkook had such a … pretty looking cock. You don’t know if penises could look aesthetic nor were you going to be superficial and say that penises should look a certain way. But he had such a pretty cock and it only made you want to shove it all the way down your throat. But your inexperience tells you to relax because you weren’t about to embarrass yourself like that.

“Do you … hate it?” Jungkook asks tentatively.

He wasn’t particularly an insecure person. He knew he was good looking and had a great body—he worked hard for it! But that’s because he never cared about anyone and what they had to say enough for it to affect his self-confidence. But you were the one person that he’s sought for validation ever since he was just a teenage boy, before the muscles and the confidence he’s developed over the years.

Especially when he was so hard that he thinks he’s going to bust a nut the second your mouth touches his cock—the way that you’re staring only makes him anxious.

“You’re really big,” you tell him, eyes peering up, “And pretty.”

Jungkook blushes. He can’t believe it but the fact that he’s the one that’s flustered when you were the ‘inexperienced’ one only goes to show how whipped he was. He almost laughs, but your hand is touching his bare cock and he nearly chokes at the firm grip you immediately take. He really almost laughs, because even now—you were a quick learner, an observant student who already probably knew what he liked.

Your hands twist upwards when you jerk him off, and Jungkook tries his best to keep his hips at bay even if he’s letting out low groans the tighter you squeeze. Your eyes occasionally dart up to observe his reactions, and you’re pleased to see that his mouth is slightly agape whenever his breathless pants leave them. You didn’t know that pleasuring someone else could feel this fulfilling for yourself—but you liked it. You liked the way he felt in your hand, the precum that oozes out from his tip that taints your fingers—and you especially liked the way his head is thrown back while the grip in your hair tightens simultaneously.

“You could spit on it,” his shaky voice interrupts your mental dialogue as you look up at him. He cocks his chin towards his cock as you were hyper-focused on his length. You note that you barely could wrap your fists around him and that you needed the help of both hands.

“Would you like that?” You ask.

He nods.

“It chafes when it’s dry,” he points out.

You open your mouth in acknowledgement as you nod your head slowly. You remember when he had spit on your pussy, and even if it was in the heat of the moment and you were already wet enough—you liked it. But you also note that the way you’re jerking him off his dry so you rev the spit up in the back of your throat before you lean forward, allowing the glob of spit to drop down his cock.

The breathless groan that he lets out immediately shoots to your core as you peer up at him. He’s already looking at you do, and you feel compelled to shoot him a small smile. And when you do, he groans even if your hands have momentarily stilled as you raise a brow at his reaction.

“How are you still so cute,” he huffs.

You blink.

“Are you really calling me cute right before I’m about to suck your dick?” You deadpan.

He sighs, but his hand rubs a gentle circle on your head.

“It’s a good thing,” he promises, “Can’t you feel how hard I am right now? You could breathe near my dick and I’d probably nut.”

You snort, even if the compliment is super boyish and very Jungkook—you feel your heart swell. You’re both terrified and how you’re reacting to his simple words, but the cheesy grin he sends you from above only makes your stomach feel lighter and your heart soar higher.

“So how do you like it?” You ask.

It’s a little too odd to be having this conversation as your hand continues to work lazily on Jungkook’s cock. He seems to not mind, especially when his hips occasionally buck upwards to chase the feeling. He blinks in an attempt to focus on your query and not how good your hand feels around him, even if it’s in a rest.

“How about you just start with the tip?” He suggests.

You nod your head before you lean forward, and you don’t know if Jungkook feels it—but your heartbeat is beating rapidly against your chest. You’re not … scared, but you’re also a little scared. Mostly because it’s a foreign territory and you’re unsure how it’d taste (even if Yena warned you from having high hopes). But Jungkook ate relatively healthy and drank a lot of water; and worked out regularly.

You finally kiss the tip, and Jungkook just about melts, cock twitching at the contact as you stick your tongue out to take a tentative lick of the precum that oozes out from his hip. It’s not pleasant, nor is it anything to puke over. You’re partial to it, mostly because you’re super turned on and you like the way that Jungkook seems to be eagerly waiting while his other fist that isn’t in your hair grabs at the couch in anticipation.

You don’t intend to be that erotic, but you don’t break eye contact even when you envelop the tip into your mouth. It’s the widest part of Jungkook, and it’s already a pleasant stretch to your lips when you run your tongue on the underside of his cockhead.

“Y-You sure you n-need me to—ah—teach you?” He asks breathlessly when you use your free hand to jerk the base of his cock.

You hum around his length, and Jungkook groans in tandem, hips jerking upwards in response as you feel his cock briefly drag against the roof of your mouth. He’s about to apologise, especially when he leans forward, but you briefly release him to shake your head.

“I’m a big girl,” you tell him with a grin.

Jungkook chuckles before resting back. He can’t quite believe that you’re on your knees right in front of him, sucking his dick like an obedient student. It’s eerily similar to many of his high school wet dreams, and it probably exceeds them with the way you’re sucking him back into your mouth; slowly inching your way further until you’re halfway down.

Your mouth is hot, and in fact—a dream. It’s probably the fact that it’s you that Jungkook feels all his senses be elevated in a way he’s never felt before. It was the way that his heart soars in his chest while his stomach caves in when he feels your tongue swipe under his shaft.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he croons, hand carding tenderly through your hair, “Be careful of your teeth.” He adds on when he feels the scrape of them against his cock.

He didn’t hate it, but he rather enjoys the softness of your mouth without the fear of you chewing his dick off.

You look up at him apologetically, but he only returns it with a half-hearted smile—purely because your hand is working its way on what you can’t fit into your mouth just yet. You’re an impeccable learner, and Jungkook thinks that he didn’t need to guide you at all with the way you’re doing everything just right. Or maybe it’s his love-sick mind that makes everything feel infinitely better. Maybe other guys wouldn’t like it—but his heart only drops when the thought arrives. He wanted to be the only person that could feel your mouth this way.

Your tongue is working hard when it continues to slobber against his cock. And he doesn’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but you’re messy when you vacuum your cheeks—spit pooling at the sides of your mouth when you bob your head up and down. All Jungkook can feel is your mouth, and beads of sweat are already accumulating at his hairline while his breathing turns uneven with the only things escaping his lips are moans and groans.

You’re enjoying the way that Jungkook looks like he’s slowly losing control of himself and his tongue. All he’s doing is moaning, even the grip in your hair tightens when he unconsciously pushes your head further down on his cock. You realised that sucking dick wasn’t that theoretical as you thought it was. You were simply observant, gauged what made Jungkook’s breath hitch, what he didn’t react much to—and you knew for a fact that he appreciated the slobber.

And the spit. And the squelches of your lips meeting his cock. You did, too. It’s almost embarrassing to admit, but you were drenched just by observing Jungkook’s reactions. That only spurs you on further when you work harder, hand reaching down to cup his balls as you hear Jungkook release a breathy whimper. The sound immediately shoots to your core as you let out a moan of your own.

“Fuck,” he gasps, “You’re fucking evil.”

He’s breathlessly laughing, but you don’t let it hinder your actions. If anything, his words drive you further when you push his cock further into the cavern of your mouth, the gasp leaving his lips a sign that he probably didn’t expect that. You feel his stomach clench when you continue to bob your head up and down, and you’re giving yourself a mental pat on the back at the way you’re able to labour your own breathing through your nose. You were a natural if you did say so yourself.

“M’ gonna cum,” he mumbles through a moan, hand tightening around your hair as you take that as a sign to squeeze his balls harder. His hips jerk, hitting the back of your throat that has you briefly gagging around his cock. The visual and the sound sends Jungkook into overdrive, his balls feeling heavier by the second and in desperate need of release. He wants to apologise, but you don’t seem to mind with the way you continue to hollow your cheeks and function around his length.

“Where can I—fuck—where can I cum?” He rushes his words out, shallowly thrusting into your mouth as you hum around his cock.

He pulls out by pushing you back with a firm palm on your shoulder as your eyes widen, and when he’s shooting ropes of cum onto your face as it drips down your neck. You weren’t sure if he was supposed to cum that much, but it keeps on coming as you sit there obediently with your mouth open, in case it lands anywhere else. Jungkook’s groaning above you as he jerks himself off through the last bits of his orgasm, his hazy eyes darkening further when he spots the white that paints your face.

“I thought guys liked it if we swallowed?” You tilt your head to the side and Jungkook thinks he’s about to die.

“You’re actually going to kill me if you do that. So no. Not today.” He snorts, relaxing back into the couch as his post-nut clarity starts to hit him. He stares at the ceiling, feeling immensely satiated.

“This is like a facial at the spa,” you mention off-handedly as you climb up between his thighs, cum still staining your face. And Jungkook can’t believe it, but he thinks you look so cute painted with his cum. It’s a primal instinct the way that his eyes linger longer, feeling territorial with the way that he’s the only one that gets to see you like this.

“You’re so weird,” he snickers but you pout at him. And you do the next thing that gives Jungkook a heart attack.

Your tongue swipes over your lips where some cum remains, and even if his cock is flaccid—he feels it twitch in interest.

“Not bad. A little salty but overall … meh,” you shrug your shoulders as Jungkook gawks at you.

“You …” he trails off, “God.”

You smile up at him, all innocent as if you didn’t just give him the suck of his life—as your first time sucking dick.

“So? How was it?” You ask eagerly, leaning into his chest. He wants to ask about the cum that’s drying on your face, but you don’t seem to mind. You were so weird, but that only makes his heart grow fonder.

“Do you conduct feedback sessions after every blowjob?” He asks sarcastically.

You roll your eyes, “Do you want me to? I mean—I could offer my services elsewhere—”

Jungkook pinches your hip in retaliation, the insinuation making him growl as you snicker. He can only stare at you in amusement, especially when you’re still grinning up at him. Gone was the shy girl that proposed this, even if he noticed the flush on your cheeks and on the tip of your ears. It was insane how you took a one-eighty, but Jungkook appreciated it. He appreciated you.

“Ten out of ten. Magnificent. Absolutely life-changing. Thought I saw the gates of heaven for a second.” He teases.

You roll your eyes but a small smile appears on your face as you glance down to fiddle with your fingers. Jungkook can only stare at you, and he can’t fully describe this feeling but his heart feels so … full. So completed, even if you sucked his dick. He’s always felt this way, but there was something about you being wrapped in his arms after you had his dick in your mouth that made Jungkook go crazy. Crazy enough for him to blurt out the next thing on his mind.

“I want to be with you.” He blurts.

Your eyes dart up in shock as they widen. But Jungkook is as resolute as ever, a dopey grin still on his face.

“W-What?” You stutter.

He reaches for your hand, still slightly sticky with the slick from his cock but he doesn’t care. Not when you intertwine your fingers with his so seamlessly, so easily like you were meant to do so.

“I want to be with you. In whatever way you want to have me.” He murmurs, peering straight into your eyes.

Your heart stutters in your chest as you try to find the words to respond with. But you can’t. Your mind is still recovering from what you just did, and your heart is soaring. But there’s a part of you that’s hesitant. You knew it was unfair, for making Jungkook wait—but you were still scared. You were scared that he’d get bored of you, or what the two of you share one day. He may be ready to leave it all behind, but you don’t think you could deal with having to say goodbye to Jungkook in that way.

And it’s as if he can read your hesitation, he brings your intertwined hands to his lips before pressing a kiss to your knuckles, eyes still soft when they remain on your frozen state,

“I’ll wait,” he says softly, “For as long as you need me to. Until you’re ready.”

“J-Jungkook …” you mumble, flustered when you look away.

He nudges his nose against your cheek, pressing a smile to your jaw as you hum in embarrassment.

“I fucked up.” He says. You’re about to interrupt but he seems to have his own things to say. “I said things that hurt you. I did things that hurt you and I can’t ever forgive myself for that. I know you’re not punishing me and I never once thought that way. Even if that isn’t the case, the least I can do is wait. Not only because of what I did but because no matter what—I want to do this right this time.”

He looks up to you and his gaze is so earnest that it makes the words get trapped in your throat while you stare at him.

He smiles, soft and gentle when he rubs a thumb across your cheek.

“I’m serious about this. About you. Even if you decide that you don’t want this or that your feelings have changed … I’ll still be here.”

Jungkook takes your breath away as you gape at him. The silence he leaves you with only makes you reaffirm your stance on how you feel for him. Yet, you can’t give him an answer now. Not when your mind still remains hesitant, and Jungkook didn’t deserve hesitant. Even if he’s hurt you—he didn’t deserve your confusion. Neither of you did.

You lean into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. It’s intimate this way, the way that his cum dries on your face and that his dick is still out. It’s almost funny, but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d wait—for as long as he had to. And he’d do it over and over again, for you.

[90stvshowgoth]

— BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: dabi is on the run from the cops when you just happened to leave your window open.

tags: drunk sex, creampie, overstimulation, dubcon but not really,

wc: 6729

a/n: this is my first dabi fanfic so i’m worried i might’ve made him a bit too ooc but tbh i don’t care. soft dabi is what i want and soft dabi is what i will get. huge thanks by the way to @a-monsters-love who beta read this story and made it a lot less sucky!

my requests are open by the way!

What woke you wasn’t the explosions or the screams, but the sirens. The mechanical moans echoed through the streets of Musutafu, and that sound pulled you up out of bed, looking out your window in a bleary state of half-asleep fear.

‘What was going on?’ Goosebumps ran up your arms as you peered out your alleyway view window, overlooking the fire escape to the siren that had recently been installed in your neighborhood a few months back. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you tried to recall when the Pro Hero Association had brought it, and that same chill sank to your bones as you remembered just what they were for.

A villain had attacked the prefecture. A dangerous one.

You tried to calm your breathing, slowly walking backwards from the window to think rationally about the situation.

‘There’s no reason for somebody to attack a random apartment building, they’re off fighting heroes,’ The reasonable side of your brain said.

Despite that the siren was still wailing across town and it began to set you on edge. You certainly weren’t falling back asleep any time soon. If you couldn’t go back to bed you thought you’d might as well make some tea to calm your frigid nerves. You smiled when you saw your well-loved cardigan hanging next to the door and hugged it close, otherwise wearing nothing but your bra and leggings.

When you stepped into the main room you breathed in the warm scent of the candle that you’d accidentally left burning. Cursing yourself for your lack of fire safety, you shrugged and used the wick to light your path to the counter. After filling up the kettle under the sink you left it under the lit stove to boil, taking a moment to admire how the burner’s low flames were almost purely blue.

From here you could see the small television beside the couch and with a press of a button it came to life before you. The harsh glare made your eyes wince before they adjusted to the unfriendly light.

You were drawn to the red index near the corner that blinked the words ‘breaking news.’ This made your sleep-addled brain finally connect the dots between the sirens and the reporter. The screen cut to a newsman outside of what used to be a ten-story building when all that remained was a smoking husk. Hesitantly, you increased the volume to hear what happened.

“—before fleeing the scene. We have reports that say the hero fighting him was put into critical condition following the attack, and is currently being taken to the hospital. A video was taken by a nearby woman who sent it to the authorities. We believe this clip to be of the suspects,” the journalist paused, and a low-quality film began to play. Whoever was recording had badly shaking hands so It was difficult to make out. Your eyes widened at the sight of the building you walked by every day for work, the Shishido hero agency, razed by a torrent of blue wildfire.

Escaping from the crumbling building were four or so figures, too far away to see with any accuracy, but each had an unmistakeable silhouette. The League of Villains.

They were something of a modern socratic dialogue. Whenever someone brought up their name or the hero killer Stain’s it was always just to be a contrarian towards whoever was on the opposing side. Fanatical opinions would spark heated arguments online but you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Although, if you’d have to pick a side, you would choose the League’s. After Stain’s video had spread through Japan you dug deeper into the shady histories of some of the Commission’s most well-respected heroes. Whatever standard you held those pros to crumbled into dust under miles of ‘collateral damage,’ and omitted crimes that were swept under the rug by police. So when the faces of the league went up on the screen you couldn’t help but smile at their victory.

The whistle of the kettle pulled you from the television. You rushed to take it off the stove before it could get any louder, and routinely began to fix the tea just the way you like it. You hummed, smiling as the first sip of the warm brew spread down your body, fending off the cold.

You threw the remote onto the couch that sat across from the small kitchen. Moving back to your bedroom and getting cozy with the tea, you reveled in the way that the mug loosened the frozen joints of your fingers. But before you could relax and block out the sirens with some music, you noticed another chill rush through the small room. Groaning over-dramatically, you set the tea down to retrieve another blanket from your pile; but your eyes widened when you tracked down the source of the cold.

Your window was open.

That caught you off guard. You were absolutely sure you closed it before bed knowing how low the temperatures would drop, though with growing panic you noticed how you specifically don’t remember locking it. There’s only two ways it could’ve been open now. Either you simply misremembered earlier that night and forgot to close it...

Or someone else broke in.

The tea’s warmth was long forgotten as you reached shaking hands to close the window. But before you could slide the panel shut a calloused hand clawed itself around your mouth so you couldn’t scream.

Fear gripped your lungs as you struggled to breathe, thrashing desperately against the second arm your assailant had snaked over your waist to keep you still. Your leg banged painfully on the side of the windowsill as you struggled but it didn’t deter you from opening your mouth wide enough to bite down on the attacker’s hand.

“Fuck!” He cursed when your teeth drew blood around his thumb and practically threw you to the ground. As you were about to use your newfound freedom to scream for help, the man lunged towards you with one outstretched hand.

His flesh was suddenly engulfed in a hissing blue fire and you winced at the wave of heat that flared so close to your face. From here you could easily make out the assailant’s features from the illuminating glow of his flames.

He had deep scars circled under his eyes using what looked like piercings to hold the tattered skin together. His lips quirked after realizing he’d caught you for good, making his charred skin pull against the metal in his cheekbones. Panic hadn’t altered your memory, you knew exactly who was standing over you. Dabi of the League of Villains.

Before either of you could make another move someone banged on the front door. You turned to look towards the sound but the heat close to your reddening throat kept you from doing anything stupid.

“Ma’am this is the police, open the door.” You and Dabi stared at each other from the implications and you could already see a plan forming behind his eyes.

He leaned far too close, keeping his lit hand still hovering over your neck as he whispered his words into your ear, “Listen to me nice and close, doll,” you couldn’t bring yourself to breathe underneath the searing tension. “You’re gonna answer that door. You’re gonna smile and say that nobody’s home. And if you give away fuckin’ anything,” Dabi’s flames somehow stoked themselves, the heat so intense that your teardrops evaporated before they could leave your eyes, “I’ll set your hair on fire first. So you can feel your brain cooking.” He spoke with a dripping malice that made your blood run cold despite the flames creeping up his arm. You nodded, too terrified to form words as he pushed forward; telling you to get up.

The brief walk from your bedroom to the front door had never felt so long. Your legs felt like the static emanating from the television, all shaky and unstable. Once your hands curled around the handle you decided not to spare a glance back.

‘What do I do?’ You didn’t want to die, at least not by immolation of all things, so you’d have to play along. You cupped your feverish face in your hands and took an unsteady breath. ‘As long as I can fool these cops, I’ll be fine. I can do this,’ At least, you hoped.

Opening the door caused the hallway’s lights to flood through your darkened doorway. Once your eyes flinched with discomfort you saw the unmistakeable uniforms of two police officers, both middle-aged and looking much more disinterested than you would’ve thought.

“Is there a problem?” You could lie smoothly enough but your voice was still feeble from Dabi’s strain on your neck.

The one who had called out earlier answered your question, “A member of the League of Villains was seen climbing in through a window to this apartment building, but the witness didn’t remember exactly which floor or room. Is anyone else with you?”

You feigned confusion, going so far with the act as to tilt your head slightly to the side. “No, I’m sure I’m alone, sir.”

At that moment a painfully loud squeak echoed from your bedroom and your eyes widened at the audible gap in your story. There was a loose floorboard right beside your bookshelf that creaked under even the slightest weight. You’ve learned to avoid it over time but Dabi had no idea.

That bored expression on the cop’s face shifted and you scrambled to come up with a explanation. “I thought you said you lived alone?”

An idea popped straight from your brain to your mouth, “My cat! His name is—“ you thought of the old, lovable house-cat your family had kept while growing up, “Byron. He like to get into my plants.”

“...Alright then, Ma’am, just keep yourself safe.” It seemed to just barely convince them.

You almost couldn’t fight back the elation as you waved off the oblivious pair, heeding their words by locking the door behind them in a rush. Pressing your back against the wood, you tried to settle the adrenaline pounding through your chest. Unfortunately as soon as you started to calm down, Dabi strode from the bedroom with a curious look in his eyes.

“Not bad, lady. Didn’t think you’d give it your all like that,” he must’ve kicked himself for making that noise and thought you would’ve used it as a way to give him up, “especially for a villain like me.”

The tension in the air had noticeably lessened, and you started to think you had a good shot at surviving the night. “I mean, I didn’t want them to find you either.”

Dabi paced around the living room, turning on one of your floor lights in his path towards the couch, “And why’s that?” He asked, flopping unceremoniously onto the secondhand loveseat.

Sure, you were still half pissed at the guy for breaking into your apartment and threatening to kill you, but it was clear that everything he did wasn’t personal. He just needed to escape from the police, but since they were gone what would happen now?

“Because...” you wanted to find the right words to convince him, “because I hate heroes too.”

Under the dim glow of the lamp you caught a glimpse of a half-handsome smile from that answer. Now that there was none of the malice from before you could appreciate just what he looked like under the warm lighting. Especially his eyes, which turned out to be a truly stunning shade of blue.

He kicked his feet onto your coffee table and patted the seat next to him. You’d have to deal with whatever dirt or soot he’d tracked inside tomorrow morning, but for now you found yourself accepting his invitation.

“Lucky me, huh?” Dabi asked rhetorically, and you found yourself almost smiling back at him. The couch was still cold underneath you but you painfully realized that Dabi was emanating heat like a goddamn generator.

‘It must’ve been from his quirk.’ you thought bitterly, shivering despite yourself.

Dabi drew a pack of Newports from his coat pocket and slid a cigarette out with his teeth. Instead of using a lighter a thin blue flame ignited on his index finger. He held it to the tip and drew in a deep lungful of smoke.

“So, what’s your deal, anyways? You got a thing for villains or something?” He wondered out-loud, teasing another blush onto your face as you shook your head.

“No, I just— I mean not like that,” From the look on his grafted face you could tell he wasn’t convinced. “The Hero Commission is corrupt, I agree with the league on that at least. Stain’s video kinda affected me, you know?”

Another small grin graced his lips and a small part of you decided that you wanted to see that expression more often, “What’s your name, doll?”

The question put you at ease; When he repeated it back, rolling the syllables over his tongue, you couldn’t wait to hear him say it again. Wordlessly, he extended his hand towards you, offering the lit cigarette between his fingers. When you took it all you could focus on was how warm his hands felt against yours for those brief seconds.

Wisps of smoke danced in the air as you inhaled, coughing a bit after the dry tang started to sting the back of your mouth. He smirked at your reaction before taking the cheap cigar from your fingertips.

Dabi saw the remote you left laying on the couch and mindlessly turned on the TV across from you. The news station was once again playing, this time an interview with one of the heroes who fought at the scene. This hero in particular was an older man with a receding hairline and an honestly ridiculous outfit that looked somewhere between a scuba diver and a 70s golden-age comic book character.

Beside you, Dabi groaned at the sight of him, “This fuckin’ guy...”

“Were you the one that fought him?” He nodded without breaking his attention from the screen.

“His quirk was such a pain to deal with. He controlled all the oxygen in the room— made it hard to set his ass on fire.”

There were a surprising lack of injuries on Dabi as far as you could see, aside from a few scrapes alongside the bruised scars that crawled below his loose shirt. You couldn’t help but wonder how far down they went, but quickly turned your attention back to the screen to ignore those ideas. The hero he fought looked far worse for wear, skin marred with fresh burns that singed holes into the costume; His legs shaking similarly to how yours were just fifteen minutes ago. Dabi seemed to have that effect on people.

Before you could ask him how he’d won his fight he was off the couch and walking towards the kitchen. He casually searched through your apartment with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

You sighed, a bit annoyed at how he helped himself to your fridge, “Dabi, if you’d tell me what you’re looking for I could show you.”

“Nah, already found what I wanted.” He dug open one of the drawers and smirked as he pulled a chill bottle of wine from the fridge.

Dabi tracked down two nearby glasses and a corkscrew before returning to your side and started to twist the metal tip into the pliant seal. It pulled loose with a soft pop and he filled each of your cups with the cherry wine you had been saving for a special occasion.

As you raised the rim to your lips and breathed in the fermented smell you paused. Were you really about to drink wine with a villain? A wanted criminal who broke into your apartment? His hand had been around your throat as he whispered about how he would burn you alive less than half an hour ago. There had to be something wrong with you to even consider it. Beside you he nearly emptied half the glass in his first sip before going back to enjoying his cigarette and you found your resolve crumbling at his lazy half-smile. Making possibly one of the dumbest mistakes of your life, you followed his lead and took a long swig from the bittersweet drink, intent on letting the alcohol relax your nerves.

The effects were slow to come, it was only wine after all, but as the night carried on and the two of you kept drinking you started to notice the effects taking hold. At the very least, conversation between you flowed easily, trading questions about each other that never grew too inquisitive. He didn’t try to pry too deeply, he didn’t even ask for your last name, and you were sure to never bring up his scars. You talked for what must’ve been hours, and as the bottle emptied, the space between the two of you grew smaller.

Dabi could handle his alcohol, but you couldn’t, clearly. To be fair, he was tipsy, but the way you unashamedly leaned your head on his shoulder when you grew tired was anything but sober.

“So, doll, got a boyfriend or something?” He asked, testing the waters. You leaned up and sighed at the question.

“No, nothin’ like that... I haven’t had the time.” You tipped your glass back but the wine never reached your lips. You groaned at the sight of the empty cup and leaned up to grab the bottle from the table. Unfortunately, Dabi’s hand held onto yours before you could reach the vice; You felt him pull you back towards the couch by your wrist until you lost your balance, falling back against his shoulder. If he minded he didn’t show it as his arm rested around your hip.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” The condescending tone in his voice was annoying but it wasn’t enough to make you move from his comfortable grasp.

You scoffed, messing with your hair to avoid looking at his face, “God, who are you, my dad?”

A shit-eating grin stretched across his face, “Oh, so you’re into that Daddy shit, huh?”

The comment took you so off-guard that you broke into a fit of giggles that did nothing to temper the blush returning to your face. Dabi loved how much of an effect he had on you; the simplest words turning you into a flustered mess.

“Nah, not my thing-“ ‘Unless you’re into it,’ You barely kept yourself from saying that second part out loud. From this angle Dabi had the perfect view of your tits pressing against his chest and he stared shamelessly. You barely noticed, too focused on how warm he was while holding you close to his side. It almost looked like something a boyfriend would do, but you knew better.

It was a strange feeling, to be so under Dabi’s influence. Every lingering touch, every heated stare... It was driving you crazy. And he knew it. He was toying with you and you couldn’t believe how much you loved it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a chill running down your spine, only realizing that you were so caught up in your time spent with Dabi that you forgot to close the very window he had snuck through. As the night carried on it somehow got colder and you cursed the thin cardigan you found yourself wearing that did nothing to shield away the biting air.

“You cold, doll?” Dabi was surprisingly perceptive, noticing the trail of goosebumps that ran down your arms. Although, perhaps it was the sensation of his hand trailing over your skin that caused it rather than the wind.

Nodding hesitantly, he wasted no time in wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You couldn’t have held back the relieved sigh that left your lips if you tried. Because when Dabi wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you to his chest, it felt like heaven to your frigid bones.

As you curled into the embrace he couldn’t ignore how you felt on top of him. The pressure of your ass sitting on his dick drove him crazy, and it took damn near everything in him to not push you down face first and take you then and there.

“Dabi, you feel amazing,” His eyes widened, your slurred words almost making him lightheaded, “so warm...” You trailed your hands up and threaded them through his coarse dark hair. The faintest of groans left his lips as you got comfortable and accidentally dragged yourself down the front of his jeans.

All at once he took hold of the skin of your thighs, stopping you from moving and damn near shaking with effort to keep still. “Doll... cause’ you’re drunk, I’ll ask you this one time—“

“—Please, Dabi,” You didn’t budge under his bruising grasp or struggle like before, instead holding eye-contact, resolve heavy in your voice, “I want this- want you so bad,” It was enough for him, and he didn’t hold back.

He was ravenous when he finally pressed his lips to yours, leaving you tongue-tied and moaning into his mouth. The alcohol only added fuel to your desire, easing the tension on your clit by grinding against him. He broke the kiss in a choked gasp, his hands cupping you around your ass and fondling you through the thin material. When he stood up from the couch gravity somehow felt heavier, but it must’ve been from the wine. His hands still held you by your thighs and while he backed the both of you towards the bedroom his lips never left yours, even when he went to rip your cardigan off your shoulders, leaving it behind along with his coat, you in only your bra and leggings.

The loud bang from Dabi kicking the door open startling a squeak out of you and he chuckled into the kiss, running a stapled hand through your bedhead and pulling hard enough to make you keen into his touch. Rather unceremoniously he threw you onto the bed, briefly disorientating before you could make out Dabi’s alluring figure ridding himself of his clothes. Once he pulled over his shirt you saw his maimed chest covered in taught muscles and scars. As he broke your gaze to turn his attention to his jeans, fumbling with the cheap zipper, you couldn’t help from crawling towards him slowly on your knees before whispering, “No—“ He looked up from his trance, wondering if you’d changed your mind before you quickly perished the thought by pulling him towards you by the loops on his jeans. He raised an eyebrow at your show but didn’t make a move to interrupt the adorable way you took care of him.

So you began, looking into his eyes as you kissed down his deformed chest. It seemed a miracle he was even standing before you, with haphazard staples barely holding him together. You couldn’t resist giving the seams of his wounds special attention, pressing light kisses to the metal as you made your way down.

You unhooked his jeans easily, eagerly reaching to feel him through his boxers. His nails dug into your scalp when you finally eased his shorts off, breaking your eyes away to look between his legs and—

You couldn’t’ve stopped the needy moan from your lips if you tried, too attracted and nervous about the shiny bridges of metal through his dick. “Fuck, Dabi...” he had the most cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face as he watched you salivate over him.

“What’s wrong, baby? Never had a guy with piercings before?” You didn’t even hear him, instead responding with a dazed shake of your head; far too tipsy on the sight of him towering over you, reddened head leaking against his stomach.

He pretended to come to a decision, “Guess I’ll have to take my time with you before fucking that cute pussy,” his words sent heat straight to your core, slick pooling in your ruined panties, “but then why am I the only one naked? You’re gonna make me embarrassed you know.” The amused look on his face put you at ease and you laughed a bit at the idea.

“You? You’re the most shameless person I’ve ever met.” The smile he brought out was enough to ease the nerves that came with being so vulnerable to a man like Dabi.

The foe-offended look on his face wasn’t any less ironic, “You wound me, doll,” when his attention fell back to your clothes he didn’t hesitate to snake his hand below your arched back and unclasp your bra. Before you could think of covering yourself he’d already raised your arms up and thrown the lace material into some corner of your room.

He was on you in an instant, biting and sucking on the plush skin of your tits with abandon, enjoying every small tremor it brought from your shaking lips. To him your body was a blank canvas just begging for him to bruise, and he would take his sweet time carving teeth marks into your chest.

But while he had his fun you had yours, running your hand along his collarbones and carefully worrying the stapled hem of skin. You weren’t sure how the stitches would hold up otherwise. But before you could worry about it too much you felt him pull away, a deep hickey left in his wake.

“You don’t have to be gentle with them,” he looked up at you with an unexpected sincerity.

With that there was nothing to hold you back from dragging your nails down his chest, the villain groaning as you felt his solid stomach beneath you. From a distance he looked like a patched rag-doll that was barely holding itself together but up close the wiry muscles that clung to his calloused body couldn’t be ignored. Dabi practically hissed when he felt your soft fingers wrap around his cock, only spurring you on further. The piercings weren’t as rigid as they appeared but they were scalding to the touch.

His breathing stuttered around you as you picked up your pace, the heat of his breath pulsing on your cheek as you took in every sinful expression on his face. He cried out, squeezing his eyes shut at the pleasure. You stared unabashedly, taking note of how peaceful he looked above you. Like for the first time that night his body wasn’t wrought with chronic pain.

When you pulled your hand away his eyes shot open. “I didn’t tell you to fuckin’ stop.” He sounded pissed but before you could lose confidence you shifted your weight to the side, locking your arms together behind his to roll him over, leaving you on top.

“I wanna make you feel good, Dabi,” Thankfully he seemed to be curious as to what you had planned, letting you stay on top for now. You crawled down his body until you reached his painful hard-on. Wrapping your hand back around him you gave him the most doe eyed gaze you could manage before taking him into your mouth.

“God, that’s fuckin’ good,” He cradled your head and set his own pace, not too rough but far from gentle as you fought the urge to cough. The metal of his piercings were hot against your tongue, the heat unlike any other experience you’ve had before. Wrapping your tongue around him you intentionally hummed, the keening moan it brought from him more than worth the burn. Tears crowded near your eyelashes as he chased his own pleasure, breaking his gaze to crane his head back in ecstasy. His neck bobbed with the effort and the sight made you almost proud.

It was over far too soon and once he pulled away you almost missed the weight of him in your mouth. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you, hear me?” His words made you all too aware of how badly you needed him, but he continued to run his mouth as he pushed you up the sheets and took his place back on top of you, “Gonna fill you so good, babydoll,” He caged you beneath him and you whined at the feeling of his slick cock heavy against your thighs.

His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, which do you want?” His blue eyes looked black in the feint light, staring at you with such an amused intensity that you didn’t even register what he said.

“What?”

Dabi tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning closer and whispering, “My mouth? Or my fingers?”

You normally wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye after he said that but liquid courage still ran through your veins and you leaned forward until you could nestle into the crook of his neck.

“Your fingers, Dabi,” You groaned as you felt his grip around your jawline move until his left hand curled around your neck and his right tore off your leggings before slipping below the waistband of your underwear. As soon as he touched you his eyes widened, a feral glint in his eyes.

“Fuck— Doll, you’re so fucking wet,” He squeezed your neck experimentally and the rush of endorphins sent to your head felt divine. It wasn’t to be outdone when you felt him circle your clit with his thumb, rushing into such a fast pace from the get-go. The onslaught of pleasure made a scratchy cry slip from under the grip of his hand. Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you were almost thankful for the immovable grip around your neck. It served almost like an anchor to ground you underneath him.

He pulled a startled squeak from your throat when his two fingers pushed their way inside. It barely hurt, but the maddening feeling of his long fingers curling and stretching your walls was one you wouldn’t forget. Dabi shushed your eager cries with an endless stream of filth whispered into your ear, “Can’t wait to fuck my cum into you, dollface. You want that? You gonna be my good fucking slut?” He was downright mean as he took his time stringing you like a bow. “You wanna feel me drip out of you like a street whore?”

“Yes, Dabi, I’ll be good, I promise just please—” You were too far gone at that point, grabbing fist fulls of dark hair to yank him to your mouth, the kiss muffling his groan from you pulling on your hair. His index finger curled so slightly into you, the pace on your clit turning soft once he added his third finger. The sound he brought out of you was somewhere between a dying choke and euphoric moan, each sensation coaxing you into his touch. Feeling him move so easily within you was almost enough to bring you over, your whimpers increasing against his lips, only for all of it to be taken away.

Dabi left you grasping around nothing when he took his hands away, no doubt enjoying the desperate way you tried to rock yourself back onto him. Only when you did, you were met with something far bigger than his fingers.

“Come on...” When he called you by your name it brought you back to earth for a minute, “I want you to beg for me,” looking to see his heavy length pressed against you as he rubbed the glistening tip onto your clit. “You’re gonna beg for a villain to fuck you,” The promise of pleasure was so enticing that it was worth lying to the cops, worth risking your safety, and enough to toss your pride out the open window.

Grabbing him by his hair, you forced him to look at you. “Dabi, please, I need you... Need you in me ‘til you cum,” desperation and lust coated every sinful word you said, but Dabi wasn’t satisfied. “I wanna be good for you, Dabi, want you to fuck me, fill me up, ple-“ your words were cut off by the intense stretch of your walls trying to take him in. You’d never screamed someone’s name so loudly before in your life.

“Oh, fuck-! Shit... your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight,” As each inch sunk deeper you couldn’t speak or even breathe.

He wasn’t wasting any time, mercifully toying with your clit as he filled you. The air felt thin in your bedroom, like you were hundreds of feet from the ground, drawing short, shallow gasps beneath him.

“Da-bi!” His hips ground slowly against yours and you were suddenly thankful for his prepping, unable to come to grips with just how full you felt.

An overwhelmed laugh fell from his burnt lips as he slowly pulled himself from your dripping sex, “What’sa matter, babe? Can’t take it?”

The pout on your face only made him grin, the childish indignity adorable to him. But his teasing was starting to push you to your limits. He might’ve been a powerful villain and you a civilian, but it didn’t mean he had to treat you like glass. Hooking your legs around his waist you forced him forward. Dabi’s eyes shot open and both of you choked at the sharp friction. Any trace of playfulness died then and there, his knuckles turning white from the grip on your hips.

He kept your legs tight around him as he surged forward, your mouth caught open in a daze. You weren’t sure what his piercings would’ve felt like inside of you but god, was it good. The metal spokes impressed into your body with fervor, constantly dragging against your sensitive walls.

Tomorrow you might say that the wine was what drove you so crazy for him, but you knew you’d be lying to yourself. He was by far the most intoxicating libation you’d ever tried. The sound of skin against skin was almost deafening, only broken by the dulcet groans from the man above you and the siren that still echoed outside your widow like white noise. In the back of your mind you wondered if they were still searching for him.

Dabi leaned his head into the crook of your neck, revisiting the marks he’d already made. His teeth bit down your chest all the while abusing your aching clit. It was all too much. You couldn’t help clawing at his broad shoulders, leaving inflamed tracks in your wake. When your nails made contact with the scorched seam on his back Dabi moaned, the loud whine in his voice got you to realize something crucial. The motherfucker got off on pain.

His touch turned ravenous after that, pulling you tight against him until there wasn’t any space between your bodies. The rough texture of his skin-graphs and the blistering heat of their staples pushing against your breasts just made his brutal pace feel more intense.

Your voice was higher pitched than you’d ever thought you could manage, squeaking out small moans with every quick pulse of his hips. Your ankles were sore and locked together— he couldn’t have pulled out if he tried. The legs that were still wrapped around him twitched involuntarily as you felt the string inside your core about to snap.

“Fa.. fuck, Da—bi I’m—“ you stuttered against him, crying into his shoulder when you felt his pelvis grinding so perfectly onto your clit while he railed you, screaming his name one more time as he pulled you overboard, being sure to scratch at his back as you thrashed futilely against him.

All at once his teeth were buried into your throat, digging in so hard that you mistook his spit for blood; his bite only sharpening the orgasm that sent waves of heat coursing through you. Against your dented skin he groaned and cursed, his voice coarse but dripping with pleasure as he cursed expletives onto your shining skin. The wetness of your climax dripped down your legs, making him somehow push faster against you, but despite the blinding orgasm he’d thrown you into he couldn’t stop until he’d finished and the overstimulation burned white hot through your entire body. Just as the drive of his cock bordered on painful, Dabi shoved you down onto him, stilling above you and choking on a groan.

Twitching inside your cashmere walls you felt the warm rush of his cum paint your insides as his hips jerked into yours. His heart beat wildly against his chest— you could feel it over yours, his eyes still glazed with pleasure. Dabi was sure to pull out slowly, through the dim glow of your room he could see his cum seep out of your glistening pussy, and he couldn’t help but push his fingers inside you one last time. He might’ve liked pain, but he was an asshole who enjoyed the uncomfortable keen it brought from your trembling lips.

Thin moonlight shone through your window, illuminating the maze of blemishes that razed against his alabaster skin. It might’ve been because of the bleary tears that still half-clung to your eyelashes, but above you, with a winded smile on his torn-up face, he looked half a corpse and half a god.

“Still with me, baby?” He noticed your staring, teasing you by waving his hand in front of your face.

You felt almost high, all drowsy symptoms included, only responding to his question with a feint grin. The wine and the rough sex both made you exhausted in more ways than one, but before you could complain Dabi had shifted his weight off the bed.

“Nooo...” Admittedly you felt a little childish but you couldn’t help but pout as he grabbed his briefs and went to leave your bedroom.

Through the open doorway he’d said, “Just getting a towel, stay put.”

His absence gave you a second to think, staring up at the ceiling with a thousand opposing thoughts bidding for your attention. You just slept with a villain— a murderer. You might side with what he stands for but Dabi was still dangerous. He could’ve killed you tonight, after all. And yet, the only thing you could wonder was what was taking him so long.

Soon he returned wearing his boxers, carrying a heavy towel that he ran under the sink with warm water and took to cleaning the dribbling mess between your thighs. You cooed at his touch, the afterglow of your orgasm cleaned away until Dabi read the alarm clock on your bedside table. 4am.

“You know I can’t stay, right?” He asked bluntly, and you nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show too badly on your face.

“Villain stuff, huh?” You shrugged, curling up into your pillow. Dabi had to continue hunting down the rest of his shed clothes while he mumbled some kind of agreement.

He flashed you a grin while he zipped up his tattered jeans, “Doesn’t mean I won’t break in some other time, doll.” Relief spread through your fingertips once he said that, the weight disappearing from your shoulders.

Your content smile followed him as he threw that thick coat around his shoulders, walking up to your bedside and leaning low. You grinned, leaning forward and trying to catch him for one more kiss, only to be interrupted by the sound of something below you.

Looking down, you saw Dabi slapping a handful of crumpled bills on your end-table, that smug grin from earlier evident on his face. Without bidding you some kind of goodbye kiss he made his way to the open window, sparing you a glance before saying, “Buy some plan B, alright?”

You hadn’t even thought of it, grinning and waving him off as he swung himself onto the fire escape. The sounds of metal clanging against his boots faded away into the distant echoes of the city, and you brought your hand to your throat. Softly you traced the deep blemish his teeth had left behind, your smile turning giddy as you thought about his promise of another visit, but unfortunately the wine was still simmering through you and without Dabi to keep you awake your eyelids started to feel heavy.

Under your plush covers, you continued to cup your hand over the mark he left as you faded off into sleep, the siren that still echoed through the streets acting almost like a lullaby.