#dance with devils -charming book-

[santaasi]

moonstruck

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: who could have known that jj maybank would steal your first kiss beneath the stars, all to evade the pursuing police?

warnings: fluff, first kiss, no use of y/n, english isn't my first language

word count: 2.6k

a/n: a little fic to celebrate the release of obx4. after s3 idk if I'll watch s4, but you can give me your opinion about 5 new eps in the comments. have a nice time reading this work! love u <3

ᯓ★ now playing...

enhypen - moonstruck

THE NIGHT AIR WAS WARM, infused with the salty tang of the sea and the soothing rhythm of waves crashing against the shore. The gentle breeze rustled the palm fronds, creating a soft, whispering melody that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. This tranquil evening was the only redeeming quality of your job at the cluttered antique store. After two long years, you still wondered how your boss managed to keep the place afloat, especially when half the customers left without buying anything. Those who did purchase something often bombarded you with endless questions that drained your patience, just like today.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders as your shift finally came to an end. All you wanted was to retreat to the solace of your home and hide beneath a warm blanket. It had been one of those days—when customers were rude, the air conditioning was a distant memory, your legs ached from standing, and you smelled like a dust-covered relic.

After struggling to lock the front door—an ancient key refusing to cooperate, as if it had been stuck since the Great Depression—you slung your bag over your shoulder and stepped out into the quiet streets of the Cut. The fresh sea air caressed your skin, invigorating your senses. You knew this town like the back of your hand, every crack in the pavement a familiar companion. The streetlights flickered overhead, bulbs long overdue for replacement, casting a dim glow that made the shadows dance around you. Though it wasn’t the safest place, it was home—a place where trouble always seemed to find you.

And one of them even had a name: JJ Maybank.

Like everyone in the Cut, you had heard countless stories about him and his adventures with the crew who proudly called themselves the Pogues. From the time you were kids, his reputation as a wild spirit with a devil-may-care attitude had preceded him. You remembered the laughter that echoed through the neighborhood as he and his friends roamed the sandy streets, always planning their next adventure—sneaking onto rooftops, racing bikes down the winding roads, and daring each other to dive into the ocean at dawn. JJ was the embodiment of carefree youth, with a reckless smile that could charm anyone and a spark in his eyes that promised trouble.

Despite sharing the same neighborhood, your worlds felt galaxies apart. While he thrived in the thrill of spontaneous adventures, you found comfort in the quiet corners of your life. You spent lazy afternoons lost in books, dreaming of places far beyond the horizon. As children, you’d played side by side in the warm sand, yet your paths seemed to diverge with the years. JJ was the star of wild tales and whispered legends, while you remained a quiet observer, forever intrigued yet hesitant to step into his whirlwind of chaos.

You never expected that your paths would cross, at least not like this — bound together by a single, reckless moment that would change everything.

As you stood there, savoring the rhythmic crash of waves against the sandy shore, the tranquil scene was suddenly pierced by the sound of heavy footsteps behind you — fast and uneven, as if someone were running. The street was mostly quiet, just a few couples strolling hand in hand, lost in the warmth of a summer evening. The sudden urgency in the air pulled your attention, stirring a sense of curiosity.

Before you could turn to see who it was, a hand grasped your wrist, spinning you around with a swift motion. Your heart leaped into your throat, eyes widening in shock. You instinctively clutched the worn fabric of a white T-shirt, struggling to steady yourself. Frowning in confusion, you looked up and met the cheeky blue eyes of the last person you expected to see.

It was him — JJ Maybank himself, breathless and frantic, the unmistakable spark of mischief dancing in his gaze. Even amid his panic, his blue eyes glinted with a familiar wildness, hinting at the reckless adventure he always seemed to be chasing. In that moment, the world around you faded, leaving only the two of you standing on the edge of the beach, the waves whispering secrets to the shore.

“Hey there, my pretty little neighbor! It’s a perfect evening for a walk, don’t you think?” JJ chatted, his smile strained as he kept glancing back over his shoulder.

“JJ? What are you doing—?” You barely had time to finish your question before he cut you off. His playful demeanor vanished, replaced by an uncharacteristic seriousness that sent a chill down your spine. His blue eyes scanned your face, searching for something.

“I need your help,” he said quickly, lowering his voice as the distant wail of sirens began to fill the air.

Your thoughts raced, but they tangled together in confusion. “What?” you whispered, still too stunned to process what was happening.

“The cops are coming,” he said urgently, glancing around as if the shadows themselves might betray him. “I just… I need you to help me not get caught. Please.”

You blinked, trying to wrap your head around the situation. The sirens grew louder, and flashing lights danced around the corner, cutting through the evening calm. Panic swelled in your chest. What could you possibly do? You were not the type to get involved in this kind of chaos, especially not with someone like JJ, who always seemed to flirt with trouble.

You bit your lip, staring at him, your mind racing. You had no clue what JJ had done this time, but with all the rumors swirling about him, it could be serious. If the cops saw you with him, they might think you were involved, and the last thing you wanted was to be dragged into a police station to answer questions. All you wanted was to go home, wrap yourself in a cozy blanket, binge-watch your favorite show, and sip hot tea until sleep finally took you.

But time was running out. You needed a plan — and fast.

Then, a ridiculous idea flashed through your mind, inspired by that Marvel movie you had watched a few weeks ago. People tended to look away when they saw couples getting too… intimate. It was as if tenderness made them uncomfortable, a reminder of something personal they weren’t meant to witness. Kisses, soft touches, the kind of closeness that drew attention away from everything else.

Oh, no. You swallowed hard, heart pounding. It was a risky move, but you didn’t have the luxury of time to second-guess yourself.

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed JJ by the collar and pulled him closer, pressing your lips to his.

It wasn’t just any kiss; it was your first kiss, and you had no clue what you were doing. The warmth of his lips against yours sent a jolt through you, a thrilling rush that left you dizzy. His breath mingled with yours, soft and sweet, and for a heartbeat, everything else faded away. You thought about pulling back, a wave of embarrassment washing over you, but then you felt his hand cradling the back of your head, steadying you, keeping you from breaking the moment.

“Whoa,” you whispered, your heart racing. But before you could say anything else, JJ deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours with a playful insistence. You gasped, a surprised sound escaping your lips as your mind spun with confusion and exhilaration. You were lost in a whirlwind of sensations — your heart pounded wildly, and your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tugging gently at the tips.

Suddenly, your back hit something cold and hard. JJ pulled back slightly, both of you panting, gulping for air. His gaze swept over your face, a mixture of surprise and something unnameable flickering in his eyes. You opened your mouth, desperate to say something — anything — to justify your impulsive action, to apologize for crossing a line. The silence felt thick and awkward, stretching out between you like a taut string.

“Uh, I didn’t—” you began, but before you could finish, JJ’s hand cupped your cheek, his touch warm and grounding. He pulled you in again, kissing you once more, more fiercely this time.

Your cheeks burned, but it felt like your entire body was ablaze. Thoughts of right and wrong melted away, leaving only the intoxicating pleasure of his lips against yours. You couldn’t help but think that everyone who claimed JJ Maybank’s kisses were magical had it all wrong. They weren’t magical; they were raw and real, yet they lifted you high above the chaos of the world. Each kiss felt like a leap into the unknown, an escape where your soul soared and your heart raced.

Just as you lost yourself in the heat of it all, the wail of sirens pierced the air, cutting through the intimacy of the moment. Police cars rushed past, barely glancing in your direction, but the sudden noise jolted your heart back to reality.

The kiss lingered for a heartbeat longer before you pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, struggling to process what had just happened. JJ blinked, his lips slightly parted, as if he wanted to say something, but the words failed to materialize, hanging in the air between you like unspoken secrets.

As reality settled back in, you dropped your hands, suddenly aware of just how close you had been. The warmth of the moment began to fade, replaced by a rush of embarrassment that flooded your cheeks. You cleared your throat, adjusting the bag that had slipped off your shoulder, the awkwardness of the situation weighing heavily on you.

“I... uh, saw it in the movies,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. The words tumbled out in a rush. “People don’t like public affection, so…”

JJ stared at you, a mixture of surprise and amusement flickering in his blue eyes. Then, to your shock, a slow grin spread across his face, playful and teasing. “Damn it,” he said, still trying to catch his breath, his voice light with laughter. “Remind me to ask you to save my ass more often, Bambi.”

You felt your cheeks ignite like they were on fire, and instinctively, you took a step back, craving a little more space. What had you just gotten yourself into? Your mind raced, blinking like a deer caught in headlights, unsure whether to crack a joke, tease him back, or just stand there in stunned silence.

JJ chuckled hoarsely, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe the turn of events. “You’re something else, you know that?”

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, the tension hanging between you slowly beginning to ease, but the flutter in your stomach remained, leaving you wondering what this moment meant for both of you.

“Don’t look at me like that with those beautiful big eyes of yours, or I might just fall for you right here and now,” he teased, flashing a wink that sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though a shy smile crept onto your lips. “Seriously, JJ? Is this your idea of flirting? Because it’s kind of cheesy.”

“I know, right?” he laughed, the sound light and carefree. “But it works, doesn’t it? I mean, look at you! I’d be an idiot not to try.”

His voice dropped, a playful seriousness creeping in as he leaned closer. “I think I owe you now,” he whispered, almost conspiratorially, his breath tickling your ear. His hand slid gently over your shoulder, and before you could react, he casually lifted your bag, throwing it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

“Hey! That’s my bag!” you protested, half-heartedly, your heart fluttering at his boldness.

“I know, but I don’t like being beholden to beautiful girls like you,” he said, grinning like he’d just won a prize. “So, as a thank you, I’m walking you home. Wouldn’t want anyone to steal you away.”

He winked again, laughter dancing in his blue eyes as he started to walk ahead, your bag bouncing lightly against his back. You stood frozen for a moment, still processing what just happened. His hair was tousled, the way it always was, and you wondered if your heart had raced like this before. Did you really make him flustered? Oh my God, was this really happening?

“Are you coming?” he called over his shoulder, pausing to give you that cheeky grin that made your stomach flip.

“Uh, yeah, I’m coming!” you managed to say, shaking yourself out of your daze. You hurried to catch up with him, your heart beating wildly, a mix of exhilaration and disbelief bubbling inside you. As you walked side by side, the sound of the waves crashing behind you and the warm breeze wrapping around you felt like a secret the universe was sharing.

The night air was alive with laughter and playful banter, the gentle rhythm of the waves providing a perfect soundtrack to your conversation. JJ animatedly recounted his latest adventures with the Pogues — like the time they snuck into the lighthouse for a midnight swim and ended up launching a misguided rescue mission for a beach ball. You hung on every word, entranced by his charisma, the warmth of his presence beside you igniting something within you.

“Seriously, though,” he said, glancing sideways, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, “thanks for helping me back there. Who knew a cute girl could be such a hero?”

You laughed, the sound bright in the night air. “I didn’t have much of a choice. You practically swept me off my feet with that spin…”

He chuckled, that familiar mischief dancing in his gaze. “What can I say? I’ve always been drawn to trouble. And now, I guess I’m just moonstruck by you.”

With each step, the distance between you shrank, a connection sparking amid the chaos of the night. When you finally reached your porch, he paused, turning to face you, the glow of the moon illuminating his features in a way that made your heart race.

“I had an awesome time tonight,” he said, a hint of sincerity in his tone. “Maybe we should hang out again. You know, when I’m not dodging cops or getting into trouble. How about a pizza or something?”

You chuckled, the sound light and bright. “Didn’t know you treated all your life saviors to dinner. What’s next, a moonlit pizza date?”

JJ smirked, leaning in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “Only the cute ones. Just imagine it—a night under the stars, with me serenading you about my crazy adventures. Sounds perfect, right?”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling your heart race at the thought. “Yeah, maybe. But I’m not sure if I’m ready for your karaoke skills yet.”

He threw his head back and laughed, a sound that made your heart flutter. “Oh, I’ll win you over. You’ll be begging for an encore.”

With a final grin, he stepped back, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment that felt electric. “Cool. I’ll see you around then.”

As you watched him walk away, the night felt charged with promise, the moonlight casting a silvery glow that made everything seem magical. You stood on your porch, a soft whisper of excitement filling your heart, knowing that this was just the beginning of something wonderfully beautiful—something that had you feeling both moonstruck and hopeful for what lay ahead.

thankx for reading <3

you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

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[vivwritesfics]

The Devil Dances With A Smile

Chapter Two

He can't kill you. He can't bring himself to lay a hand on you. So, he falls for you instead (its a shame his employer really wants you dead)

Hitman!Max x reader

Chapter One

The teachers lounge was rarely a good place to nap. Somebody was always yapping about something. On any day but today, that would have been Max. Yapping at Charles, who would yap back. 

Today, though, he was far too tired to yap. He laid his head down on the table, his energy drink forgotten in front of him. The teachers lounge was the only place he could enjoy his much needed energy drinks, especially if he didn't want the kids to see. 

"You look like shit," Charles muttered as he joined him, sipping his coffee. 

Max looked up only to glare. He quickly laid his head back onto the table and shut his eyes. 

"Jim and Sass keep you up again?" 

Oh, that was right. Back when he and Charles first started their jobs, Jimmy and Sassy were his excuse for everything. It was better that way, though. If Charles knew what he was really doing, he'd never look at him the same way. 

"Just let me sleep, Charlie," Max mumbled through a yawn. 

Leaning back, Charles sipped his coffee, but he said nothing more. He kept his eye fixed on Max, just watching him. When the bell went, he woke Max up. Snapped his fingers in front of his face to make him just a little more alert and sent him in the direction of his classroom. 

Mac moved through the day like a zombie. He barely got through it, his only aid being the red bull he kept hidden in his thermos. 

The thing about Max was that he hated coffee. Last night had been a charade; he hid every grimace behind what he hoped was a charming smile. When you topped him up for a second cup, he guessed that it worked. 

Still, he wouldn't be ordering another from you. But he would be going back. Research, he told himself. To find out why somebody would want you killed. Were you really that bad a person? So bad that somebody was willing to pay a lot of money to see you dead at his hands? He just couldn't see it. 

The school day came and went as it always did. Max stayed behind and tidied his classrooms. Put the text books back on the shelves and picked up paper left behind by the students. 

A drawing. He knew immediately which student had done it. A talented artist who had spent the lesson drawing him and Mr Leclerc from history locking lips. 

Chuckling to himself, Max shoved the drawing into his drawer. He grabbed his bag, the Red Bull disguised in his coffee thermos, and headed out. 

Max had never dreaded going to his second job before, not since his first day. But tonight? Tonight was different. 

For the first time ever, he hadn't completed the job. 

He moved slowly as he got himself showered and changed, making dinner for himself and feeding the cats. Jimmy and Sassy fussed around his legs, and Max took his time to give them attention, putting off the inevitable. 

Christian was gonna have his ass. 

Tying his shoelaces took longer than normal, but that was because he was stopping every few seconds to give his cats kisses. “I love you both,” he assured them, running his hand along Jimmy's back and up his tail. “If daddy doesn't make it home, uncle Charles is gonna take care of you, okay?” 

He swallowed the lump in his throat and headed out the door. 

Never before had Max wished for traffic. Never before had he wished for his commute to his second job to take longer than the usual twenty minutes. 

But it felt all too soon that he pulled into his parking space. He sat there for several minutes, making sure he had everything that he needed. Keys, wallet, phone. All already in his pocket. Convenient. 

He forced his brain to think up the worst that Christian could say and do as he walked towards his office. Shoot him dead was the worst he could do, tell him he's fired was the worst he could say. 

Max sucked in a breath. He pushed down the handle and opened the door, letting himself into the office. If he was a weaker man, his legs would have been buckling as he approached the desk. 

"Your target is still alive."

Max nodded as he sucked in a breath. "I know," he said. "But she's tricky," he finished. 

Christian blinked at him. "She's a waitress," he replied. "Can't you shoot her dead when she's behind the counter?" 

A sigh left his lips. "Just trust me, Christian, it's not that simple. She's got colleagues and customers, people  that care about her. I can't just kill her there; I've got to gain her trust first." 

Christian levelled him with a look. Unimpressed, but accepting. "Fine. Just get it done," he said and sent Max on his way. 

He couldn't keep putting it off, he thought as he drove towards the café. He immediately spotted you, clearing the tables by the window. He watched you pause and look out across the lamp lit street. 

Climbing out of the car, Max started towards the café. His mouth was dry as the bell above the door rang, signalling his arrival. 

You looked up as the bell rang, a smile splitting across your face. "Well hey, stranger," you said, your grin widening. Any more and your face would have hurt. 

"Nice to see you again," Max said as he slipped into the nearest seat. 

You leaned against the table. It wasn't like you were trying to flirt, trying so hard to appeal to him. But it was working. Your pretty eyes, your pretty smile. He could have stayed here all day staring at you. 

You took his order, just a coffee. But you threw in a pastry for him, a treat, on the house. 

For the first hour, Max sat there. As much as he wanted to talk to you, you were too busy working him to give him the attention that he wanted. But you met his eye, gave him a warm smile as you cleaned the rest  of the cafe. 

Finally, you leaned against the table once again, your palm flat as you angled your body towards him. "So, what? Are you stalking me or something?" 

For a moment, Max panicked. But then you laughed and his entire body relaxed. "It's not every night you meet a pretty girl in a dingy café," he replied and your cheeks heated up. The little 'no offense' he added at the end was so endearing, you couldn't help but slip into the seat. 

Max was easy to talk to, but you knew that from the day before. He showed you pictures of his cats, telling you all about them until you got called into the kitchen to run food. 

As soon as table 43 had their food, you returned to Max's table. "I still don't get what you're doing here," you said to him, not bothering to sit down this time. You only had five minutes left on the clock. "You're a teacher, a local one. You don't get the train anywhere, so why are you here?" 

His face was bright red and he pushed his hair back, swallowing. "The first time, I was just looking for something to drink. I came in today because I wanted to see you," he confessed, scratching at the back of his neck. 

You checked your watch. "Let me clock out, and then you can walk me to the bus stop again." 

Before you could walk away, before you could get changed and walk back towards him, Max grabbed your arm. Your immediate instincts had you quickly pulling out of his grip and taking two steps back. 

Max dropped his hand. He didn’t say anything, didn’t call out your behaviour. Instead, he fished his car keys from his jacket pocket. “Or I could drive you home, if you like.”

He didn’t drive you home that night. But he did walk you to the bus stop again. You stood closer to him than you would to any of your other customers. “I want to take you out at some point,” he said, staring down at you. The bus was pulling up, he only had a few seconds. “On a date.”

You didn’t gasp, you weren’t surprised. But your cheeks still heated up. “Tomorrow,” you said and smoothed down his jacket. “We’ll arrange it tomorrow.”

Max watched as you stepped onto the bus and paid for your ticket. He watched as you sat somewhere near the back. 

As soon as the bus pulled away, Max headed back towards the car. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, swiping his thumb across the screen to answer it. “Soon, Christian,” he said, before Christian had the chance to say anything to him. “She’ll be dead soon.” He swallowed the lump in his throat as he climbed into the car. 

Christian paused for a moment. An anxiety inducing moment. ‘Lando is gonna take on the job’, that was what he was ready for him to say. “Our employer wants her dead within the next two weeks. Get on with it.”

The call ended and Max dropped his phone onto the centre console. A sigh left his lips and he began to drive, heading in the direction of the bus. There weren’t many occasions that called for Max to tail a bus, and it wasn’t all that easy. Every time the bus stopped at a stop, he parked where he could until the bus moved on. 

But then you got off of the bus and began your walk. As you got off of the bus, Max parked his car and climbed out. He followed you, ducking behind bins and bushes. You didn’t turn around, had no idea you were being followed. 

You weren’t expecting any sort of danger. Maybe it made you naive. You had no idea of the danger you were in. Max kept following you until you made it to your apartment complex. The sun was rising, the streets no longer dark. 

You were in so much danger, so much fucking danger. Max swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t let anything happen to you, he knew that much.

a/n: part two! it actually feels so good to be working on a series again. for those that don't know, i'm currently working on a lestappen werewolf series (that i hope to have posted in the next week) so keep an eye out for that!

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[kookslastbutton]

Reflections ༓ kth (m) | "Stay with me until the end of the day"

✑ Summary: As a new hire at one of the most prestigious jewelry brands in the world; Adrien & Rosamel in Paris, you've been trying to build your professional portfolio for months. So when global brand ambassador Kim Taehyung comes in for a photoshoot but his personal photographer is unavailable, the company offers the gig to you. Oh of course you take it in a heartbeat—it's a given.

pairing: brand ambassador!Taehyung x new photographer!reader

genre/AU: fluff, angst, smut, photography au, modeling au, s2l, two part series (duology?)

word count: 11.3k

warnings: exposes "dark side" of fashion world, oc gets insulted by fashion assistants (b-word dropped once but our oc bites back), flirty yet annoying videographer!kook, angry!seokjin, sunshine!stylist!hobi, charming!makeup artist!jimin, cool manager!joonie, Taehyung is an elegant flirt and not like the others, jazz bar date🥺, Taehyung calls her darling a lot, tehyung gets jealous, talk about long distance relationship, sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!Taehyung, sub!reader, explicit sex (use of condom), big dick!tae (it takes a bit to get it all the way in 😬), praise kink, lingerie, small jewelry kink? (He f's oc with their ruby necklace on), doggy, size kink, multiple org*sms, squ*rting, oral (f. Receiving), half a hand*b, f*ngering, overstimulation, little bit of breastplay, cussing, d*rtytalk, foreplay, a little expressiveness, mention of aftercare, Taehyung just adores hers, hot car make out, mention of morning s*x

now playing: Slow Dancing by thv

a/n: first omg i never reached 11k in my life. Secondly, shoutout to anyone who has seen Devil Wears Prada...a personal favorite of mine. Also Layover is omg the best thing ever! So i decided to focus on slow dancing for this fic. Pls enjoy ❤

How many twenty-something-year-olds can say they work at one of the biggest, most luxurious jewelry & fragrance brands in the world? And on top of that, are located in the fashion capital; Paris, France? A rare handful, and it's because of those reasons that they're given the lowest positions possible; you being one of them.

Sure, climbing the corporate ladder is possible with years of relentless dedication, raw talent, and of course, let's not forget connections with the higher-ups. But competition grows fiercer with each passing year as more eager young people gun for advancements in hopes of survival.

After all, who can afford to be stuck on the bottom rung forever?

You didn't want to believe the undertone theme in the critically acclaimed movie The Devil Wears Prada was true, that underneath the glitz and glam of haute couture are ruthless, cutthroat fashion moguls. But from the moment you stepped through the doors of Adrien & Rosamel in your coffee brown slacks and beige button down shirt, it couldn't be refuted–

No one was your friend and no one wanted to be.

Newbies must establish their professional value to the brand as early as possible to prevent being cut at any given moment. On the other hand, experienced professionals who have already earned their merit through decades of labor refuse to give up the stake to their claim and must be careful not to have the carpet swept from under their feet to a junior half their age.

It's a vicious race and despite its bitter nature, you're at the very heart of it.

As a fashion photographer, your ultimate goal is to have weeks' worth of sessions with models from all over the world; all adorned with timeless pieces from genuine gold watches to the richest of gemstones.

These are the types of photographers who are the best and brightest in the industry. They have at least ten years of experience and are booked until the very last second with modeling photoshoots.

The odd prodigy exist too; individuals who are born with an insane wealth of insight and skill which allow them to move up in rank faster.

You wish you were good enough to be considered a prodigy but no such luck. Adrien & Rosamel have insanely high standards on who is allowed to handle the jewelry, let alone be around the models who are so-called showcasing them.

So here you are day what—241? And still stuck taking photos of the same jewelry pieces day in and day out. Sure the theme of the photos gets changed slightly but it's been eight months of this generic work and truth be told, you're getting sick of it.

.

"__!" Seokjin, your coworker and one of A&R's jewelry polishers calls your name anxiously. He rushes to your side where you're taking close-up photos of a limited-edition steel watch. "Be gentle with this, will you? This is selling for 7,000 euros which means $8,000, 10 million south korean won, and 6,000 pounds. I also just finished polishing it so don't be getting your grubby fingerprints all over it!"

You roll your eyes and continue to move the watch around on the display table until you get a perfect angle. "Relax princess, I'm barely touching it and I have gloves on."

Seokjin's fluffy eyebrows furrow together, face scrunching at the nickname you chose for him. "That's—that's completely uncalled for! Do you know how long I spent buffering the face of the watch alone?! One hour __!"

You hate yourself from bursting out in laughter but this isn't the first time you've gotten lectured by Seokjin. Its like the tiniest detail would set him off. Seokjin's been with the brand a little longer than you; a year now, but he still has that constant need to micromanage everyone he can.

"Look," he continues his scold. "If anything happens to these priceless watches it's my head on the chopping block. I can't afford to lose my job __!"

"Yes, I understand Seokjin. Nothing will happen to these alright?" You move around the man to get more pictures of the watch lying elegantly on its side. "Don't you have about fifty other watches to shine or do you like nitpicking my every movement instead?"

Seokjin scoffs at you, sticks his hands on his hip and walks away with a disapproving shake of his head. "I have my eye on you junior," he warns.

You ignore his subtle jab and continue taking photos. "Creep," you mutter under your breath.

Ten minutes pass and you're about ready to move on to the editing process for your photos. You take a quick peek at them through your camera, clicking through the gallery with the right arrow button.

"Not bad newbie," you hear a voice come from over your shoulder that causes you to jump in surprise.

"What the fuck Jeon," you throw your best side-eye at the young man who happens to be your only acquaintance in the whole company. His role was similar to yours, but instead of photographing jewelry he films them; he's a videographer. "I'm beginning to think you like sneaking up on me on purpose."

The young man laughs with a child-like energy. "What can I say? Seeing you flustered does something to me. But actually, I was just passing by. Haven't talked to you in a while."

Come to think of it he has a point. You haven't seen Jeon Jungkook in about two weeks straight. The two of you aren't friends so you don't check up on each other constantly but you'd like to think you have good rapport.

"What have you been up to anyway? I've seen you rushing around the place like you have millions of appointments to make," you ask.

"I've become a busy man babe," he replies with a cheeky grin. "The higher-ups have noticed my talent and I'm playing with the big boys now."

"You talk about the higher-ups like they're Big Brother or something. Come on, tell me again but in laymen terms."

He sighs at the need to repeat himself. "Okay, listen. I'm working with the models now and more specifically I have a 2 o'clock gig with Kim Taehyung tomorrow. You know, our global ambassador? I'm shooting the film portion of the campaign we're running for him. Isn't that insane?!" His eyes glow up at the mere mention of Kim Taehyung who you are well aware of.

Everything about your famed global ambassador is a fashion photographer's dream; tall, lean, and tantalizingly handsome.

"Of course, I know who Kim Taehyung is. His face is plastered all over the walls of Adrien & Rosamel. Even saw his face on one of our company mugs. Anyone who's anyone will sell their left kidney to breathe in the same room with him but how the heck did you land a shoot with him this early? You've been here for less time than me!"

You're not shouting, you promise. Just extremely envious at the continuous luck Jungkook is having.

"Well," he starts drawling his words. "I might have gotten close with Park Ji-hun over the last month or so. His daughter in particular." You raise your eyebrows in awe.

Park Ji-hun has been Kim Taehyung's personal photographer for nearly ten years. And next to the model himself, he's another highly talked about individual at Adrien & Rosamel.

"Please tell me you didn't use his daughter for your own professional gain," you interject. Jungkook waves his hands around disapprovingly at your suspicion.

"I didn't, we went out on a blind date. I didn't know who her father was until half-way through the date."

"Mhm, something tells me that that's not completely true."

"Okay, so maybe her name sounded a little familiar but I swear, I didn't know they were the same person. But long story short, we started going out and I managed to win her father's approval. And now he's letting me shoot with him!" Jungkook's enthusiasm dies when he sees you doing your best to give a tight-lipped smile. "Babe, listen. I know you and I had a thing a few months back but....you're not still pining over me are you?"

You shove him in the shoulder at the ridiculous question. "We never had a thing. Stop it. I'm just trying to wrap my mind around your recent success."

Jungkook shrugs. "I guess its fate. And we definitely had a thing," he gives a wink. "Well anyway, I need to get to another appointment in ten. Jimin's gonna completely flip if I'm late."

Your mouth gapes open. "You're working with Park Jimin too? He's one of our best makeup artists, what the hell?"

"There are many colors that suit you __. Green's not one of them." Jungkook spins himself around and walks away from you. "Catch you later!"

"Goddamnit," you curse to yourself. "Is he Mr. Perfect or something?"

"__, we're gonna need the space in about five minutes." Another photographer calls from behind you, reminding you that you need to make yourself scarce.

The next morning is absolute madness with the news of Kim Taehyung's arrival in Paris.

As one of the most iconic brand ambassadors and haute couture models, he has quite an impressive fan following from countries all over the world including France. From the moment he steps out of his plane until the minute he enters Adrien & Rosamel, the man is constantly surrounded by masses of people all standing around with their phone cameras.

The company doesn't exactly give him a break from the high intensity of the crowd either. All the assistants working today are tasked with both meeting his requests and socializing with him while the rest of the team hauls around studio equipment for his photoshoot.

"Did you see the way he looked at me Ha-rin?" You overhear one of the assistants boast to the other while passing in the hallway. "I've had such a crush on him for years and I finally have the chance to meet him. I swear, I'll do anything he asks me to do."

"Oh my god, how dense can you be? Sure he smiled at you but let's not forget who it was he asked to get water from," the second woman spats back, raising the unopened bottle of water in her left hand. "It was me. I'm the one he wanted."

You snort at how snarky the two of them are to each other. As if Kim Taehyung would give so much of a blink their way let alone "want" either of them. You've never met the man but you've seen his face enough to know he could have anyone he desired. And it sure as hell wasn't going to be anyone from the company.

"Excuse me," Ha-rin stops in her tracks and speaks in your direction. "Is there something you find funny?"

"I'm sorry?" You freeze in place, unsure of what the woman's referring to.

"Don't play coy junior. You snorted at us, kinda nosy to be listening in on a private conversation."

Fuck sake, you are getting so tried of everyone calling you junior. You weren't given the name __ for it to be ignored at will.

"My apologies if it seemed that way. I assure you I was thinking of other matters." Your Majesty, you wanted to add but didn't.

Ha-rin body scans you as you speak and it immediately makes you feel self-conscious. The way she purses her lips can't be anything but venom that's about to spit out at you. "It better be that way. And by the way, those pants don't do anything for you. Maybe wear a dress next time," she slithers.

"Oh you mean like the dress you're wearing?" you reply. "No thanks. I'm not looking to impress anyone here. I have to get back to work now so you'll both excuse me," you bid them adieu and continue walking down to your office.

"What a bitch," you overhear one of them say and you clench your fists with tears brimming underneath your eyes.

Don't you dare cry __. Not here.

So some of your eye makeup got smudged from your incident with thing 1 and thing 2. You hate how much such a shallow jab got to you but, you're only human.

Coming into such a luxe company you expected this type of behavior. Yet your dreams are so much bigger than them. You'll push through like always.

"Hey," a knock pounds on your door. "Need to talk to you. Busy?" Its you manager Namjoon.

"No." You give him your full attention. "What's going on?"

Namjoon closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. "We have a situation," he starts.

"Okay...what happened Joon?"

"Our shoot with Kim Taehyung is in less than an hour and Park Ji-hun is nowhere to be found in the building. We called him up and looks like he had another shoot scheduled during the same slot. Must have been an overlook on our part, his part, I don't care whose fault it is. But we need someone to fill in right now or we're not going to have any material for our campaign." It comes out all at once and the feeling of whiplash washes over you.

"On top of that," he continues, "I don't want to waste monsieur's time. He just flew 14 hours from Seoul. So, can you do it or no?"

Oh my god...you repeat at least twice in your head before forming a response.

"I'd be very grateful for this opportunity but shouldn't this go to the next best photographer available? I only shoot jewelry on its own. I've never done—"

"You are our next best option __. All our photographers are booked with other models for the next three months. You've been here long enough to know how packed schedules get. Please, I've seen your work. It's good. And if you want an in for your career, I'd grab your camera and meet Kim in the studio in two minutes."

"Well I—"

"Yes or no __? Because I can always give the opportunity to another jewelry photographer. I'd rather not because they're techniques not as good as yours but I'll do it if I have to."

Your mind scrambles for a concise answer. You've been working towards something like this for months, doing your best to perfect your craft in hopes the higher-ups might recognize you as they did Jungkook. Yet until now it's been null; no one has made you such an important offer.

"I'll grab my equipment and meet you all in the studio," you decide. Your manager nods in approval and moves to exit your office.

"That's what I was hoping to hear. You'll be working closely with Jungkook, Jimin, and Hoseok. I'm sure you're familiar with them, no?"

"Yes sir," you reply. "Quite familiar."

"Jung Hoseok," the man with likely the brightest and most genuine smile you've ever seen shakes your hand. "I'm Kim Taehyung's stylist for this shoot. We're going for laid-back, yet elegant and refined for the studio shoot. Tomorrow we'll go with a completely free theme when we shoot at the beach. I have some specific fashion pieces picked out that I think he'll make pop for this campaign."

"That sounds great Hoseok. I wasn't aware we were going to a location tomorrow though." You don't mean to sound naive but you really were just thrown into this only minutes ago.

He lets go of your hand after the quick shake. "Yes, we have a two-day shoot planned. I know this is all news to you as of five minutes ago. And I'll do my best to help I'm any way I can. Park Ji-hun believes that the jewelry pieces and cologne picked out for Taehyung will be best suited in two places. One, in the studio to highlight the jewelry and two, at the beach to create an atmosphere for the cologne."

"Makes sense, thank you for filling me in."

"Like I said, I'm going to do as much as I can to help. Jimin get over here and introduce yourself to __." He calls to the pink hair boy who's busy sorting through his makeup palettes.

"Park Jimin," he walks over to you and also shakes your hand. "Makeup artist. Jungkook's told me about you."

"Oh god," you slip out and everyone chuckles. "Do I need to go hide somewhere now?" Who knows what Jungkook's said about you. Looks like he really is trying to get cozy with as many people as he can here.

"No no," Jimin waves of your slight embarrassment. "He just said you're an acquaintance that's all." You want to believe him but the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth has you second-guessing.

It's not like Jungkook has a lot of beef with you or "secrets" to spill. He just had a big mouth, flirted with everyone in sight his first three months at the company and you happened to be his first target.

But no biggie. He's dating Park Ji-hun's daughter now, right?

"Love," it's Jimin's voice again. "Don't take this as any offense but I think you need a touch-up. Half your makeup's wiped from your face. Let me fix it for you okay?"

Well if you weren't embarrassed before you are now. Jimin's a professional make-up artist, surely his eyes are fine-tuned to the human face and pick up on make-up inconsistencies.

"Sure," you give in. "That'd be great."

Jimin walks over to his pile of make-up supplies and grabs a classic black eyeliner. "Close your lids," he tells you softly. He gently draws a wing over the lid that needs the most help and then, reaches for an eyeshadow that matches the other eye. "Okay, almost there. Just a few more brushes of this and you'll be good to go."

Though your eyes are closed you can easily distinguish the sound of a third voice.

"So you said yes huh?" Jungkook nears you and Jimin with a cheesy grin. "Now who's moving up in the world?"

"This is our first time working together Jeon," you reply. "Let's keep things professional shall we?"

"Oh please, you should be thanking me instead of giving me pointers on how our professional relationship should be." Jungkook snaps back and you stiffen at his words.

"Thank you? For what?"

"Namjoon didn't mention who exactly dropped your name as a potential candidate to clear up this little mess of ours? When Ji-hun told us he accidentally double-booked I immediately suggested you. I'm hurt you didn't know." He puts his hands over his heart as if pretending to be in pain.

"Wow, well you're right. I suppose I owe you my thanks." And here you thought people only looked out for themselves. Still, it's not like you and Jungkook are gunning for the same position. Him helping you doesn't exactly put him at a disadvantage.

You do feel more pressured to do well for this shoot though. Not only is it your first model shoot, and with all people, it happens to be with Kim Taehyung but it'll backfire on Jungkook if the photos you capture turn up bad. You don't want to imagine what that'll do to both of your professional credibility.

"Alright you're good as new love," Jimin pipes up. You open your eyes and mouth a thank you but you find the words turn into gibberish as the man of the hour finally rounds the corner of the studio.

"Monsieur," Hoseok is the first to greet Kim Taehyung as he enters the space. "Good to see you again."

"How are you Hobi?" Such an endearing nickname comes from a deep, honey voice. It charms your ears. Kim Taehyung stands straight with one hand in the pocket of his loose black slacks while the other rests near the edge of his matching black blazer. It's oversized with a basic, yet clean white t-shirt. Elegant yet, relaxed.

"Doing well, thank you. But I'm afraid you'll need to change out of these clothes soon. We have a perfect ensemble picked out that'll combine well with your style and the pieces you'll be showing off." Hoseok guides him towards the dressing rooms but as he does, your eyes catch Taehyung's.

"Monsieur," Jimin and Jungkook rush to his side at once when they see him looking over. "This is __." They gesture at you with a hand. "She'll be filling in for Park Ji-hun during the entirety of the shoot."

Taehyung's chocolate eyes study your features, your posture, and most of all your lack of movement as he waits for you to say something.

You bow realizing all you've been doing is staring at his flawless face. You've seen him on social media, posters, promo banners, everything, and anything but seeing him in person is not at all the same. "Monsieur," you greet. "It's a pleasure to meet you and to be working with you for the next two days. As the others have said, my name is __."

The man takes long, purposeful strides toward you. "I promise, the pleasure is all mine," he says with a hand moving to shake yours. His long, beautiful fingers wrap around your hand and pull you into a firm grip. "Thank you for stepping in for Ji-hun. And from now on, there's no need to be formal. You can call me Taehyung."

He then flashes you a smile that makes you begin to understand why the two assistants from earlier were so adamant on getting his attention; he's breathtakingly gorgeous. You feel yourself on the brink of a cold sweat at any moment.

"I insist everyone call me by my first name," he says. "I'm an easy man."

"But Mons–" you start but he quirks a brow at you in expectation to fulfill his request. "I understand."

"Do you model as well?" Taehyung asks casually after retracting his hand. "Sorry, I can't help but notice that you have a lovely bone structure. I like to paint in my spare time and sometimes I enjoy having live models as a reference."

The question takes you by surprise. Not many people bother to compliment your physical features expect maybe a few of your closest friends. "I don't model. I prefer being the one behind the creation, like how I'll be behind the camera with you."

He chuckles at your reply. "If you ever change your mind, I'd be happy to paint a portrait of you."

"Well thank you. I'm afraid I don't do nudes though." You really ought to shut your mouth sometimes. Of course, artists don't solely paint nude portraits. What are you saying?

The man in front of you ponders your choice of words for a few seconds too long then leans in towards your ear. Not so far that it's invasive but enough that you're the only one able to hear. "Again, if you ever change your mind....I'd be honored to paint you."

"Monsieur this is not appropriate to be saying."

"I'm not the one saying inappropriate things. I merely said I wanted to paint you as any artist would. You're the one that mentioned getting undressed."

Taehyung straightens himself back up and turns his whole body around. "Hobi," he shifts his attention to his stylist. "Show me what I need to wear today."

You're left standing with a baffled facial expression.

Kim Taehyung is the most elegant flirt and tease you've ever met.

After fifteen minutes Taehyung comes back to the studio in a shaggy grey button-down cardigan and plaid grey slacks. A gold chain necklace with a panther and tassle-like pendant hangs around his neck and on his left hand is a matching gold watch with a gold ring resting on his pointer finger.

They're all part of A&R's newest Panther collection and look nothing short of magnificent on him.

"We'll start with a few standing shots focusing on the ring and necklace separately," you say.

Taehyung nods in understanding and walks over to the studio setup that has a grey-ish purple green screen. Large studio lights hover on either side of the set to which Taehyung poses himself between.

He stands straight forward, eyes directly in line with the camera lens and jaw relaxed into a natural facial expression. It's a simple first pose to start off with but for a reason unexplainable Taehyung gives it new meaning.

It's takes you aback when you look at him through the lens of your camera. The closer you moves towards him to capture a clear shot, the more you're spooked by his intense eyes.

What makes it worse is when he decides to bring his pointer finger, the one with the ring, up to his mouth. His teeth latch gently around the gold band as it settles between his lips. You take several shots, adjusting the exposure on your camera as needed.

"Stunning," you hum in approval. Taehyung then slips the ring off his finger and again places it between his teeth. He tilts his head to the side to add to the flirtatious undertone of the pose.

"How was that?" He asks you after a few rapid flashes of the camera. "Thought I'd try something a little different this time."

"Came out perfect," you answer. "Flirty yet classically romantic. It molds well with our Panther campaign and brand. Suits you well too."

Taehyung's pleased by your words. "I'm glad you see it that way. I've always had a love for timeless themes. It's one of the reasons why I became an ambassador for Adrien & Rosamel. No other brand brings back the romantic past better."

"I agree with you completely. I fell in love with Adrien & Rosamel at a young age, around 13 I'd say. I always imagined myself to be largely integrated with the brand when I became an adult. Photography happened to help me get my foot in the door."

"Don't forget about me __," Jungkook interrupts from a couple feet away. "I got you this gig didn't I?"

Taehyung frowns at Jungkook's comment. "What does he mean?" He asks you. "Ji-hun specifically chose you to fill in for him didn't he?"

"Not exactly," you says with a flushed face. "Jungkook works closely with him and he was the one who recommended me to step in today. So I do owe him my life I suppose."

"You don't at all," Taehyung replied in a firmer tone than before. "He may have done you a favor but it's your talent that got you here. If your work wasn't good, do you think he'd take the risk of suggesting you?"

You stay silent as he continues.

"I've been in the industry for ten years, and no one lays their head on the line for you unless it benefits them in some way. Don't let him rob you of your achievements. And between you and me, I think he has an odd fixation on you." Taehyung lowers his voice. "Forgive me for being forward but he's not a jealous ex is he?"

You want to chuckle at the notion. "He's not, not at all." Taehyung laughs with you.

"So he's just a pain in the ass then," he says and you snort. "Had my share of them but not to worry. The best thing to do is to shake it off and in time, he'll realize everything you've gotten is by your own efforts and that you don't need his so called favors."

"Thank you Taehyung," you say, still a bit uneven as calling models like Taehyung was not what you were trained to do at Adrien & Rosamel. "We should probably move on with the shoot now."

"Sure, there's another pose I have in mind that I think will make the necklace stand out."

Taehyung steps away from you and turns around so his face is in front of the green screen. The cardigan he's wearing is cut to expose a large section of his back which allows pieces of the necklace to dangle against his smooth, bronze skin.

"What do you think? Does this fit the theme or does it look weird?" He rests one hand behind his head while the other raises above his head.

"Very artistic, hold the pose for me. Also, it's highly unlikely that you could ever look weird Taehyung." You focus the camera on the gold pendant. "You're a living and breathing aesthetic on your own."

"You know those are the same exact words I thought of when I mentioned wanting to paint you earlier. Seems like we see similarly don't we?"

"I guess we do, wow I never thought of myself as capable of having my own aesthetic. I feel like a carbon copy of everyone else some days." Once again you're stunned by his forwardness but you take it at face value. Perhaps he's naturally flirtatious even if he isn't meaning to be.

Taehyung looks over his shoulder at you and shakes his head in protest. "There's only one you __. You're not a carbon copy, so believe me when I say you're an aesthetic of your own as well. Which I would still like to get on canvas by the way."

"You're relentless about turning me into some kind of muse. I'm afraid I don't think I have the time, and neither do you now that I think of it. You fly back to Seoul after our shoot is over don't you?"

"I'm here for a couple of months actually," he surprises you with his reply. "Thought if I'm in Paris I might as well take some time to enjoy myself."

"That's fair. Now turn around again, I need to get a few more shots of the necklace."

"Your wish is my command." Taehyung faces away from you with a smile. He's decided he likes you. Maybe its a gift that Park Ji-hun couldn't do his photo session today.

"Do you want to know my favorite position?" Taehyung lays on his side with one hand supporting his head while the other clutches his elbow. The angle let's light from the softbox hit the gold watch perfectly, allowing it to be the star of the show; which is no easy task to achieve when it's Kim Taehyung who's modeling.

"No talking please," you respond, bending down on a knee in front for him. Your eye peeks through the camera lens to capture a good shot.

At your request, Taehyung does his best to remain silent but he can't help but notice your grip on the camera has gotten shakier. "Are you alright?" he asks with the tiniest smirk on his face. "Do you need a break? We've been going nonstop for nearly two hours now."

"Everything's fine Mon—"

"Taehyung," he interjects softly and slowly sits up from his position on the chaise lounge. "And here I thought we were starting to become comfortable with each other. Yet watching you struggle to hold that camera in place makes me feel bad. Let's pause for a few okay?"

You flush as he nears you, a tad embarrassed at the situation. You're a professional photographer which means you should be fully capable of moving forward with today's session without any breaks.

But you're palms are sweaty and all the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight from taking hours of close-up shots of the most handsome man on earth.

What's more, is that he keeps tossing out more flirty one-liners and finding ways to compliment you. And let's not forget your earlier exchange about the whole painting ordeal–wanting to put you on canvas and all.

No one warned you Kim Taehyung was going to be like this.

"What can I do to make you comfortable again, __?" He crouches directly in front of you with wisps of his honeyed locks dangling over his eyes. As he waits for your answer, the camera shutter clicks, getting a not-so-elegant close-up of his crotch.

Fuck. You didn't mean to take that.

"Too bad Hobi didn't give me a designer belt to wear. That would have made a great photo," Taehyung teases as he watches your fingers scrabble to delete the photo from your camera roll. "Imagine the kind of awards you'd win."

Oh god. You want to slap yourself awake now.

"Sorry," you rush to say anything at this point. "I think a break might be good after all."

"How about some fresh air? Last I knew it's a beautiful day out." Taehyung stands up and offers you a hand.

"You're offering to go out together?" You hesitate to put your hand in his at first but ultimately give in.

"Why not? It's up to you but I'd like to get some air in my lungs. Gets a little stuffy in here doesn't it?" Once he pulls you up he pulls his hand back. "Let's take a fifteen-minute break everyone," he calls to the rest of the team who nod and scatter in opposite directions.

"Fantastic." You hear Jimin talk to himself. "I've been needing to go to the bathroom for an hour already!" He scurries out of the studio as quick as his legs will carry him.

You and Taehyung find a quiet spot on the terrace above the company's enclosed garden. It's a recent edition the executives thought might give employees a small escape from the chaos of the day. And so far, it's been much appreciated. Being an unconventional hour to take a break, you're the only ones currently using the space.

"Can I ask you a question?" You cross your arms on the metal railing of the terrace and look at Taehyung beside you. He's standing calmly by the railing too with his hands in his pocket.

"Ask me anything," he replies.

"I haven't been in the fashion world nearly as long as you have but I know enough that people aren't as open as you are. You're much friendlier than most and I was wondering if you've always been that way. Even with Hoseok you call him Hobi, an endearing name."

He looks out into the distance at the perfectly trimmed bushes and trees, all square-shaped. "I became a model when I was 17. I hadn't even graduated high school yet when an agency recruited me. I thought it was a great opportunity until I saw the hunger for fame in my peer's eyes. Due to my appearance, I was given more chances to be on the cover of serious magazines like Vogue and Louis Vuitton but models who were there longer than me didn't. They were given shoots too but they were on a lower scale. Long story short they would scheme to get me in some kind of trouble so I'd get fired so they could take my place."

"I'm sorry that happened to you. I didn't want to believe that the industry was as vicious as I was told prior to entering it myself, but it is. So many of my coworkers can't wait to see someone fail so they can be promoted."

"It's a shame that it's like this __." Taehyung looks at you now, a serious expression on. "It doesn't have to be this aggressive cycle of stepping on the next guy to get to your ideal position. That's why I've decided to go against the current and make as many friends as I can. People I genuinely like tend to be my closest connections." His eyes soften at this as he scans your face.

"That's a nice sentiment but doesn't that open you up to being taken advantage of?" You think back to the two assistants from earlier this morning in the hallway. Seemingly friends on the surface but actually yanking on each other's hair below.

He shrugs and pushes a couple of loose strands of his hair behind his ear. "Sure it might but, I couldn't sleep peacefully knowing I earned my achievements by cheating everyone else out of theirs. Life's too difficult to not have a good night's sleep do you think?"

"True," you agree. "I wish more people had this sort of mindset."

"Well, luckily we can lead by example. I assume you run against the current too?"

"I try but I still have a lot of ambition so I can't say I've made any friends so far. Other than maybe Jungkook."

"Ambition is good, distinguishes the serious people from the non-serious. Friends aren't easy to make in our world __ and pardon me but that Jungkook guy isn't your friend. At most he probably has a crush on you."

"Jungkook has a crush on anyone with two legs and boobs," you chuckle and Taehyung does the same. "But he has a girlfriend now I think."

"Well, that's a relief." His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "I don't have to worry about him being a threat anymore."

You snicker at his comment. "What threat?"

Taehyung breaks into a shy grin and looks towards the ground. "Forget it, I'm just kidding around. We should head back inside. I think our time's about up." He moves to walk back inside the building but you stop him.

"Wait, no." You step closer to him. "I didn't get that joke."

He flickers his eyes up and down your body, taking in your curiosity. "You need me to spell it out for you __?" He pauses and takes a breath. "You're beautiful and I find myself extremely attracted to you. I'd–god forgive me if this makes you uncomfortable– I'd like to take you out while I'm still in Paris."

"Taehyung, that's....not a joke. Are you asking me on a date?"

"Yes, I'm asking you on a date. If you don't want to it's okay. Just say the word."

You smooth your hands down the side of your pants nervously. "Okay, what time and where?"

Taehyung's as shocked as you are by your response. "What are you doing tonight at 7 p.m?" he replies.

"Nothing, what are you doing?"

"Taking you out on a date I think. How's your dancing?"

"Oh I...I don't know. Depends on the type of dance. Why?" You know why. Of course, someone like Taehyung will want to take a slightly unconventional path for a first date.

"I want to take you to Le Duc des Lombards, you know that private jazz bar in town. So, if you can sway and don't mind being close to me we'll be in business."

"Alright." Don't overthink it, you think to yourself. It's just dancing. No biggie. "7 it is. I'll meet you there I guess."

"I can pick you up, actually, I'd really like to pick you up if I can. I know I'm such an old soul aren't I?"

"No problem," you can't contain your beaming smile. "We can exchange numbers and I'll text you my address."

"My phone's back in the studio. Let's do that before the end of the shoot."

"Shut the front door __!" Your best friend Elaine screams over the phone. "You're definitely wearing the sexy red dress I bought you for your birthday if you going to a jazz bar with, oh my god I can't even say his name. I'm so excited for you babe!"

"It's one date, Elaine. It'll probably not go anywhere either. I'm going into this as a fun night out with a very handsome man and that's all." You browse through your closet for something to wear. You've already showered and touched up your make-up. "Damn it, I have about twenty minutes before he gets here."

"I'm telling you __, wear the red one. Even if this will be a one-night thing it doesn't mean you can't look drop-dead gorgeous. Also, one more thing. What are you wearing for underwear?"

"Elaine!"

"What? If it were me I'd be looking as hot as I can tonight. Gives you a boost of confidence."

"Maybe," you say and pull out a black dress. "I'll think about it."

"Well think fast, because you're down to fifteen minutes now."

"Uh, shit." You toss the dress when you see there's a small tear in the strap. "Please tell me how I'm in the fashion industry and can't find anything to wear without holes in it."

"This is the last time I'm saying this __. Put on the red dress. It's more of a maroon so it'll make you blend with the mood of jazz but you'll pop out as well. And you'll look elegant with the silk sleeves and it's above the knee so you'll stay cool when you dance."

You card back the hangers until you get the dress Elaine is talking about. It's never been worn and it really is beautiful. "The neckline's kinda deep though," you say.

"You're boobs aren't gonna fall out if that's what you're worried about. I've seen the dress and it'll be great on your body. Plus, worst-case scenario you get laid by the hottest man in the damn universe."

"I'm not having sex with him you know..." you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. "This is a–"

"Fun night out. Yes babe, whatever you want to think." Elaine snickers over the phone.

"Fine, you win but I have to change now okay?" You set the phone down and start untying your robe. Are you wearing a transparent black lace set underneath? Yeah, but it's not like anyone's going to know about it.

"Don't forget to call me later! Or tomorrow depending on how tonight goes," she snickers again.

"Goodbye Elaine," you shake your head and end the call.

"You know what might look great with this dress is that ruby necklace I bought ages ago," you say to yourself. The necklace you're referring to is dainty yet never a let down no matter what you pair it with.

Satisfied, you head to your jewlery case in search for it.

"I see you found the place okay." You say once you hop into the passenger seat of Taehyung's Porsche. Man does well for himself.

"I did, and you look like a million dollars darling. Aphrodite herself couldn't even compare. I'm going to have the worst time trying not to stare at you tonight." Taehyung stands on the other side of your door and waits for your feet to be tucked in the vehicle before letting the door shut.

He insisted he come around and open it for you when he saw a glimpse of your figure walking towards his car.

"Darling?" you repeat inquisitively when he jumps in the drivers seat.

"Do you not like it? It's kinda old I know." Taehyung starts the car and puts the car in gear. He turns the wheel single-handedly and pulls out of your driveway.

There's something about seeing a man do this that always lights a fire inside you. Especially when said man is currently in a white, freshly pressed dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and dark grey dress pants.

"I like it," you say. "Darling. It fits the night well, since we're going go the jazz club. I like this look on you by the way."

Taehyung smiles at you briefly before focusing back on the road. The hand that rests on his knee shakes a little and his grip tightens on the wheel. "Hearing you compliment me makes me a little shy, sorry. But by the way, I like that ruby necklace you have on."

You smile and play with the chain. Always a hit.

The club is moderately crowded when you step foot in the building. The atmosphere is warm and inviting with the creme tones, bright white ceiling lights, and soft purple strobe lighting that shines from the stage. You and Taehyung are lucky to find a free table to claim on the end of the second row of seating.

"Have you been to Le Duc des Lombards before?" He asks, letting you take the inner seat.

"I came once but it was a long time ago when I was in college," you answer.

"Really?" Taehyung takes the seat next to you. "Where did you study?"

"Spéos photography school. A lot of wanna-be professional photographers attend there. I'm fortunate to be able to go."

"I'm glad you got to study there. I assume that's how you got a job with Adrien & Rosamel right?"

"It was definitely the main reason but," you sigh. "I did have some gracious references who help me get in, including Jungkook who went to the same school. As a videographer we were project partners a few times so he was a good person of contact. Along with a few professors of course."

Taehyung snatches the bar menu placed at your table, more aggressively than expected. "No offense but I'm really starting to not like that guy," he grits, jaw clenching. "From now on you can put me down for any further references. The photos you took look wonderful and you know I have some solid connections with some very important individuals."

"Taehyung..." You're amused by the peek of jealousy. "Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself? The photos need to be approved by our campaign managers first before any merit is given. Plus, you're not my boyfriend."

"Could be your boyfriend," he quips back and you whip your head in his direction.

"Hm?"

"Hm what? You heard me."

"I thought you said you were shy tonight," you accuse and lean over his shoulder to scan over the drink menu with him. When you do you get a strong whiff of his cologne. God, you love the smell of cologne. Would it be too far for you to grab him by the shirt collar and throw your face into his chest?

Yes __, too far. Don't do that. You waive off the thought.

"What do you want from the bar?" Taehyung asks and you give him your response. He heads for the bar in the back of the room as soon as you tell him, not even giving you any time to grab your wallet.

"Tae–" you jump up from you seat. "You don't have to pay for me. I can get my own."

"As my date, I'd be my honor to buy a drink for you __. But you can keep calling me Tae, it sounds nice coming from your lips." He turns around and continues to the bar.

Nearly two hours of live jazz music later and a few drinks later, you find yourself in a pair of long, sturdy arms. One of Taehyung's hands curls around your waist while the other laces in your fingers.

"You sway well," he drawls, pulling you closer to his body. I'd make you squirm more than you already are if it weren't for a bit of liquor in your system. "In fact, you're a natural. Makes me wonder what other areas you have a natural talent for."

"Okay monsieur," you playfully joke and continue to let him dance you in small circles. "We're getting a little close to the hot zone now."

"Are we? Must be because you're so unbearably hot. Did I tell you to look like Aphrodite in this dress?" Taehyung slips his hand from your waist. "Can I spin you?"

You nod and distance your body from his to prepare to spin into him. "If my memory serves right, you told me Aphrodite couldn't compare to me. Not that I look like her," you respond to his prior question.

"Ah that's right," he hums. "That's even better."

Taehyung's slender arms wrap around your waist when you get to the end of your twirls. Your back presses tight against his chest as he brings his lips near your ear. "You remember when I asked you if you wanted to know my favorite position? Well, this is one of them, darling."

Your breaths get shorter as you take in his charm and you're forced to look into the crowd of people in front of you. Most are busy dancing with their own partners but a few stragglers smile in your direction.

"You make a lovely couple," one older woman says to you both. "You'll make beautiful children."

"Oh we're not–"

"Yes, we will. Thank you, madame," Taehyung cuts in and you pull yourself from his hold to face him.

"Tae, what the hell are you saying?" His face sculpted from the gods themselves stares down at you in a devilish smirk.

"Is it too hot now?" He teases as he refers to your comment minutes ago about it getting too close to the hot zone.

"You're drunk aren't you?" You gently accuse with your arms crossing over your chest.

"I'm not." He snakes his arms back around you smoothly. "I have to drive you home tonight. What kind of man would I be if I got drunk?"

You let him pull you into himself again and this time when he does you feel the outline of an erection forming in his trousers.

Fuck, you curse to yourself, he's not small that's for damn sure.

"How are you feeling __? Getting tired or you wanna stay longer?"

You smirk. "I should be asking you that seeing you have a situation down there."

"Shit—" he quickly retracts his hands on your waist and backs away from you. "I'm sorry, I know we've been flirting around but I don't want to you to think that's all I'm here for."

"Its okay Taehyung, it's just a biological response," you try to soothe. "Don't worry about it."

"Yeah but it's because of you," he stresses. "I want you to know that I'm into you romantically and not just horny with lust."

Your heart clenches and your feet move to approach him on their own. You cup his cheeks with your hands and stare deep into his coffee-black eyes. "Taehyung, I've had my share of male suitors who have all been horny with lust and nothing else. I never thought for a second you were one of them okay? Plus, you're not the only one worked up tonight." You bite your cheek, unsure what'll come from admitting to the following.

"I like you too Taehyung," you finish.

"You do?" He asks with stars in his eyes, same blinding smile as usual.

You nod in affirmation.

"Is this the part where I get to kiss you?" His lids relax as he waits for your response.

"I suppose you can. Are you a good kisser?"

Taehyung snorts lightly and surprises you with a quick peck to your lips. But when he tilts his head back to look you in the eye again, you pull his face back to yours and press your lips fully on his.

Taehyung finds your waist with his fingers again the longer and deeper the kiss gets. He moves his soft lips on yours firmly then sucks on your bottom lip until his tongue is granted access into your mouth.

"Tae," you moan his name quietly. "People are starting to stare."

"And?"

You reluctantly break the kiss. "We should probably finish this in the car."

"I'd much rather have you finish in my bed though," he says before thinking it through. "Shit—sorry I did it again."

Taehyung's lips move against yours roughly as he makes out with you in the back seat. You decided I'd be easier to kiss without the center console getting in the way.

"You know I don't like putting out on the first date but...how long until you have to return to Seoul?" You tug his blonde hair as his hands wander up and down your torso.

"Two months," he replies, slightly pained. "That's actually something we should talk about if this is going where I think it is."

"Do you not do long distance relationships?"

"I don't know." He brings his lips to the side of your neck, sucking on the delicate skin. "I've never done it before. Have you?"

You shake you head. "No but I heard it's not easy."

Taehyung moves away from your neck to take your hands in his and presses a kiss to them. "I guess we have a few choices then. One, we stop here and sum it up to a nice evening out where I got to steal a kiss the most beautiful woman. I might cry myself to sleep later," he jokes but you wouldn't out it completely past him.

"Two, we make the best of it while I'm here. I'll take you out every night possible until I have to leave. We call it a temporary relationship of sorts. Or my personal favorite, we date with intent and I'll visit you every chance I get. I'll even relocate if necessary."

"God Taehyung, I don't even know. How can you decide so soon?"

"The moving part was too much, I know. I just meant that I want to be serious. Or at least give it a shot. But if that's something that doesn't work for you then we should probably stop here."

"I want to go out again though. I don't want to stop."

"So what?"

"Call me crazy but let's be serious. You're an adult, I'm an adult. Let's fucking do this." You go to kiss him again but he doesn't let you.

"Wait, __. You sure you want to go through with this?"

"I know there's a lot of grey areas to consider but I'd hate to miss out on something amazing because of a potential threat. We go out and if it works out well, then maybe...one of us can relocate. And if it doesn't then we gave it our best."

"Alright," he slowly leans his face towards you again. "If you're on board then I am too. Since we're doing it this way....do you want me to take you home?"

You shake your head in rejection. "Take me to your bed Taehyung."

"Just when I thought you couldn't get more beautiful you always make a fool out of me."

Taehyung traces down the curves of your body with cool hands as you stand in front of him in nothing but your black lingerie on. He's asked that your ruby necklace stay on too which did throw you off guard a tad.

His shirt is off himself, revealing his lean, tanned torso. His pants are off as well, showing off his his muscular thighs. No wonder he's one of the most wanted models in the world.

He's absolutely breathtaking.

"Is this designer?" He asks and you nod. "Of course, only the finest lace should be allowed to touch your body." Slender fingers dance across the cups of your bra, feeling the fabric carefully. He's not gropping at all.

"You're a flatterer aren't you?" You look him in the eye and your heart skips a beat. He's staring back at you with a similar intensity as the shoot earlier. Just like a panther, you think —alluring, dangerous, and incapable of escaping.

"Not flattering darling. Admiring," he responds lowly. "Can I remove it?" He leans forward to reach behind your back and graze across the hooks of the bra. His lips press a kiss to the space just below your ear as he does.

"Y-yes, please do," your voice hitches.

Taehyung unfastens the material from your body and you shake it off your arms and let it fall on the floor.

"Fuck," he swears and nibbles the edge of your ear while he palms your bare breasts. He thumbs at your nipples a little until their pebbling to his satisfaction. "Are you sure I can't make you my muse for my next painting?"

You chuckle and let him mouth at one of your breasts. "Maybe in time—oh god that feels good," you moan his tongue licks across you nipple.

"In time? Seems we've made some progress. You gave me a flat out no this morning." Taehyung lowers himself on his knee and presses a kiss to your bare waist. Its gentle and featherlike. He then fiddles with the edge of your lace panties as he did with your bra.

"That's because we were strangers, coworkers. However you want to call it."

"Mm, you have a point. May I?" He asks for permission and you nod with a small whine. His fingers brushing around your hips, nearing your ass only hightens your arousal.

Once he drags the thin material down your legs you step out of them and kick them to the side. Taehyung groans deeply when your center is exposed to him.

"Gods I want to lick this pussy so much. Will you let me eat you out tonight?"

"Fuck Tae," you card through his blonde hair. "Yes."

"Lets get you on my bed," he grunts, getting up from his kneeled position. He leads you to the edge of his bed where you crawl on top of his rich comforter, ass in full view as he follows behind you.

Once you're settled on your back Taehyung pushes your legs up and spreads your thighs wide open. He then crouches between them and kisses you inner thighs.

"You're very wet down here," he mumbles. "Do you want fingers first?"

"Three please," you request, already clawing at the sheets.

"Three?" Taehyung lifts his head to look at you. "You're certain you want to start with three?"

You chuckle. "I have the feeling that I'm going to need to take at least three fingers and your tongue before I can take your cock wholely. Correct me if I'm wrong."

He smirks and brings a slender finger up your slit. "No, you couldn't be more right." He pushes the finger all the way in, sinking between your velvety walls.

"Ohh," you moan.

Taehyung adds another, pumping and curling both fingers before adding the third. "So wet baby, do you hear yourself?"

The squelching sound of his fingers working in your pussy causes your core to clench and a streak of pearly white liquid to run down your thigh. Taehyung grows feral at the sight and starts pumping into you at a faster pace.

"Goddamn you're a sensitive one. When's the last time you were fingered?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. Probably two years ago?"

"Well allow me to reacquaint you with such pleasure."

Taehyung continues to work in your pussy with his fingers, hitting your g-spot with every push and curl. Strings of profanities leave your mouth as he does this and when he licks his tongue over your folds you scream in pleasure.

"Fuck Tae, don't stop! So good, oh my god," you moan and sink your fingers in his hair.

He doesn't stop at all, he doesn't slow down either. His fingers eventually pull out of you after a dozen more pumps to make room for his tongue to dip in your pussy. He teases your clit too which is all you needed to send you over the edge.

"I'm coming Tae," you say as your come on his tongue. He groans at the act and cleans up as much left over spillage as he can before moving away from your center.

"I love the way you taste," he licks the corner of his lips and makes his way up your body until he's hovering over your face. Taehyung presses a hard kiss to your lips after with traces of your come still on his tongue.

"Don't you agree?" He asks when he gives you a breath.

"I think I'd prefer the taste of something else instead," you respond with eyes flickering to his crotch.

He smirks and brings a hand up to graze the ruby necklace that's still around your neck. "You want my cock in your mouth baby? Wanna suck on it nice and firm between those pretty lips?"

"I do. Want to make you feel good too and taste your come."

"Mm," he groans. "Don't temp me darling. I'd really much rather come in your tight pussy."

"In a condom," you remind him.

"Yes of course, but still, in your pussy," he replies. "But who am I to deny you of what you want. Pick one, in your mouth or in your cunt?"

Your pussy clenches at his casualness. "Do I have to pick just one?"

"Fucking hell," he seethes. "You're a little greedy for our first time together aren't you?"

"ijuswansucuok."

"What?"

"I just want to suck your cock," you repeat. "But if I had to choose I want you to fuck me."

Taehyung gets off the bed hearing your words and sticks his thumbs in his briefs. "I'll tell you what," he pushes his underwear down to let his cock bounce free. It's huge, vein tracing up the underside, and leaking with pre-cum at the tip.

"I'll let you suck me off any other time because as you can see, I'm inches away from blowing my load already. But to make up for it, I'll let you have your pick of any position you want."

Your eyes train on his throbbing length as he crawls back to you on the bed. You know you should control yourself but you can't help but reach out and touch it.

"Oh fuuck," he clenches his teeth as your hand tightens around him. Your thumb traces his slit, rubbing circles on it. "God your fingers feel heavenly on me. But I need you to stop and tell me what position you want to be in, please."

"Doggy and can you make me squirt?"

"Yes fuck," he moans as you keep teasing his slit. "Face the headboard and get on your hands and knees."

You do as as he says and thank god you did because he was seconds away from thrusting up in your hand. Taehyung grabs a condom from the drawer by his nightstand and rips it open with his teeth. He then rolls it down his think length until he completely covered.

"Ready?" He asks you.

"Put it in me Tae. Need you inside me, please."

"I'm going to ease in alright? I'm pretty fucking big and I don't want to hurt you." At that he clamps his hands around your waist and starts nudging his cock into your entrance.

"Oh fuck—" you screw your eyes shut at the stretch. So good but he's right, he's too big. You don't know how he's going to fit himself all the way in you.

"Keep breathing darling and relax your muscles. We're taking this really slow until I can bottom out."

You do as he says as he continues to sink his length into you. "Taehyung, Taehyung fuck it feel so good but god you're a beast."

"I know and you're doing so good for me," he coos. "We're about halfway there. You're pussy feels amazing around me. Still wet with your come."

You grip the mattress and let out moan after moan. "You're only half-way in me? God I feel like I'm being split in half."

Taehyung pulls himself out of you then thrusts back in, gently but firm enough to jolt your whole body forward. He repeats the motion with each thrust going deeper than the last.

"Shit!" He groans as he beats himself into you. "So close baby. I'm almost all the way in."

"Taehyungtaehyungtaehyung," is the only word coming from you. All you feel is pleasure as he thrusts himself into you. It's been so long since you felt this good, and who the hell would have guessed it'd be Kim Taehyung to remind you of such feelings.

"There we go," he grunts as he finally, finally bottoms out. "There we fucking go baby, how are you feeling?" He asks as he picks up his pace.

"Fuck me—harder Tae," your moans are incoherent as your whole body to Taehyung.

The next ten minutes are nothing but skin slapping against skin as his cock beats inside of you, desperately working you up to another orgasm.

"Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck," Taehyung pulls himself all the way back then snaps his hips back in, making you dizzy with arousal. "Look at you taking my big cock all at once. Just so eager to please huh? Like the way I fill you up?"

"Yes, yes I do," you pant, sweat dripping from your forehead. If you looked over your shoulder you'd see Taehyung doing the same. "I'm getting close Tae!"

"Go ahead and play with your clit for me then," he growls. "You must be so sore down there."

You quickly reach a hand down to your clit, circling it while Taehyung thrusts himself into you wholeheartedly. "Oh god, I'm almost there. I feel it Tae," you moan as the cord inside you gets tighter, threatening to break any second.

"Go on, coat my cock with your slick darling. Show me how good I'm making you feel as I rearrange your guts. You feel it deep in your stomach can't you? Fuck, I'm close myself!"

You grind your hips on his cock a few times and with that you reach your high, releasing all over Taehyung. But despite your second orgasm, his cock keeps thrusting into you.

"Can you give me one more? Need to make you squirt."

"Uh I don't know Tae, I'm not sure if I can c-come again."

"Yes you can and you will." He fucks into as hard as he can at that, no other words come from him other than deep groans. You on the other hand can't stop screaming.

"Too much Taehyung, I can't, please, need you to come. Fuck!" Despite your protest you are indeed close to a other orgasm; the third one of the night. You pussy uncontrollably clenches around Taehyung as his cock starts twitching inside you.

"Just a little more darling, getting so close. Gonna make you feel so good," he promises as his thrusts get sloppier.

"You already made me feel good Tae, want you to come too."

"I am," he replies, finally releasing. "Oh shit!"

"What? What is it?"

"You're squirting baby. Making a mess all over me and my thousand dollar sheets."

"Oh god, I'm so sorry-fuck. I'll replace them!"

"Like hell you will," he pulls out of you, ties his condom off and tosses in the trash next to his bed. He then flips you on your back and captures your lips roughly. "These sheets are mine and they'll stay mine just like you will from now on. As long as I can help it at least. Sound good?"

"Okay Taehyung," you nod. "Yours."

"Good, now how does a bath sound?"

"Fantastic," you exhale and close your eyes.

"Taehyung, Taehyung wake up." You shake the man by the shoulders next to you with both hands. "Get up get up get up!"

"What's the emergency?" He rubs his tired eyes as you move to leap up from the bed. You have the sheets wrapped tight around your body.

"We have a shoot at the beach with the team in half an hour! Hurry up and put your clothes on, you have to drive me back to my house so I can change into proper clothing."

"Why don't you wear one of my shirts or something?" He yanks your wrist towards him until you're forced to loosen your grip on his sheets and are forced atop his chest.

"Seriously? Why don't we just tell them we slept together at that point? You're crazy Kim Taehyung."

"You're making it sound like we had a one night stand," he pouts for the first time and you chuckle at how cute he looks.

"Of course it's not that Tae, it's just we still work together. We can't have them knowing we have a thing this early."

"Can we at least tell Jungkook?"

"No!" You playfully slap his shoulder. "Stop being so obsessed with him. He's got a girlfriend. Now get up, we really need to go."

"Alright, but give me a kiss first." He puckers up his lips and you concede by pressing your lips to his. "Are you a morning sex person?" He asks.

"No, we need to leave." You hop out of the bed and race to his bathroom.

"Goddamn it," he curses by himself. "Day one of being your girlfriend and she's already leaving you high and dry."

Taehyung throws the covers off his naked body and walks to the bathroom to join you in the shower—nothing but a big, happy grin on his face.

a/n: oh my gosh guys, this took me a long time. But I hope you enjoyed and lmk what you think 💞☺

Masterlist

Taglist:

@faiyh @brieeoche @lovemeforeternity @daughterof-aphrodit @daughterof-aphrodit @jjkluver7 @mystaerytete @sparklingocean @main-bangtansmauyeondan @ahgasegotarmy116

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[heartsandhischier]

Rinkside Romance

nico hischier x reader

summary - 3.2k words. Y/N, an author has an unexpectant meeting with the captain of the New Jersey Devils, Nico Hischier

note - this is my first writing ever, so I hope you all like it :)

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, creating a rich symphony of scents that blended with the soft murmur of conversation that surrounded the quaint little coffee shop. The coffee machines whirred in time with the gentle hum of patrons bustling about, seeking comfort from the cold evening.

Amidst the comforting atmosphere, Y/N found herself engrossed in the world of her latest novel, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she wove her characters through the chapter’s final paragraph. Her fingers moved swiftly, navigating the keys with practiced ease, each click punctuated by the rhythmic beat of the nearby espresso machines.

As she reached for her steaming cappuccino, her heart skipped a beat, realising the cup was empty. She hurried to the counter, her mind already lost in the world of her novel, she felt compelled to keep her creative momentum going. “Another one?” the barista questioned, his voice barely rising above the din of orders being shouted and the hissing of steam from the machines. Y/N nodded, a smile on her lips as she slid him the empy cup across the counter.

Her gaze wandered across the bustling cafe, taking in the familiar faces and comforting atmosphere that had become her haven since moving to New Jersey. But then her attention was drawn to a figure across the room – a man whose rugged charm and quiet confidence seemed to entice her.

His hand swept his dark locks out of his face, revealing warm brown eyes that sparkeled at her. Their eyes met briefly, and in that fleeting moment, it felt like a page was ripped out from one of her books. In the midst of the coffee shop’s bustle, he held her gaze, momentarily suspending time itself. It felt as if the world had quiteted down, leaving only the two of them in a shared moment of calm amidst the chaos.

“Cappuccino for Y/N!” The call of her name snapped her back to reality. Y/N collected her fresh cappuccino and thanked the barista with a nod. As she took the cup, she turned around in searchfor the stranger with the big brown eyes. To her surprise he was still there, his eyes fixed on her every move, a gentle smile playing on his lips. With a final smile, Y/N returned to her booth, unaware that fate was about to interwine.

Puck Drop and Bar Hops

A few weeks later, Y/N found herself in the midst of a bustling local sports bar, where her friend Jessica had successfully persuaded her to come out and experience the city’s vibrant energy and passion for their team. Tonight, it was a hockey match—the New Jersey Devils against the Dallas Stars. Y/N didn’t know too much about the sport but nevertheless kept her eyes glued to the screen as she struggled to keep track of the puck’s whereabouts.

No matter the extent of knowledge, or rather lack thereof. Jessica’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Y/N couldn’t help but join in as the entire bar erupted in cheers with each Devils goal. The atmosphere was electric, with glasses clinking and cheerful chants filling the air as the Devils cruised to a 5-2 win.  

“See! It wasn’t too bad getting out of your apartment to experience this, right?” Jessica chimed, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. Y/N playfully stuck her tongue out in response, joining in the laughter that bubbled between them.

“Come on! You need to get out more! Explore the city, not just your apartment and the coffee shop! Who knows, it might even give you some inspiration for your books,” Jessica continued, nudging Y/N with a playful elbow.

Jessica then leaned in closer, her voice lowered to a whisper. “You know, this bar is where the team usually goes to unwind after their games,” she explained, excitement in her eyes. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get to meet some of the players.”

Before Y/N could respond, the door swung open, causing a wave of cheers to erupt from the fans in the bar as all heads turned to face the entrance. The atmosphere crackled with excitement as a group of familiar faces made their grand entrance—the New Jersey Devils themselves. 

They were greeted with enthusiastic pats on the backs and a flurry of “Go Devils!” from the triumphant fans as they navigated through the bar, basking in the adoration of their supporters. Among them, Y/N’s gaze was immediately drawn to a pair of unmistakable brown eyes, their warmth and familiarity sparking a sudden surge of recognition within her.

Her heart raced as she watched the players move through the crowd, their presence commanding attention and admiration from everyone present. Could it truly be him? The realisation sent a thrill through her, igniting a spark of home and curiosity that she couldn't ignore.

“They’re cute right!” Jessica giggled next to her, her eyes glued to the players now standing by the bar. Y/N turned around in confusion as her friend pried her eyes away from the players ordering drinks and beers. "Y/N, you were quite literally drooling,” caught off guard, Y/N blushed hard as she attempted to regain her composure. “I, uh, I guess so,” she stammered, her gaze flickering nervously between Jessica and the group of athletes at the bar. 

Jessica leaned in closed, her continuing to eye the players. “I think Timo Meier is pretty cute,” she admitted with a playful grin. “But, oh my god, have you seen the captain? He’s also Swiss, like Timo, and he was a first-round draft pick. And those big brown eyes? Endearing as hell!” 

As the evening wore on, Jessica couldn’t help but gush about the players, pointing them out amidst the crowd. Y/N listened intently, her eyes skipping a beat as Jessica rambled on about their captain, Nico, pointing to a tall familiar figure. With a jolt of recognition, she realised that Nico, the captain Jessica had been raving about, was the same guy from the coffee shop. Her cheeks flushed with warmth as she stole a glance in Nico’s direction, her mind racing with newfound understanding.

Suddenly, a bartender approached their table, a tray of drinks in hand. “These are from one of the players,” he announced with a wink. “Lucky you!”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as she glanced over to the bar, spotting the hockey player with the familiar brown eyes. A rush of excitement coursed through her veins as she quietly thanked herself for agreeing to go out today. 

Emboldened by the gesture, Y/N found herself drawn to the bar, her heart pounding in her chest as she took a big swig of her drink and approached the handsome stranger. With a warm smile, she thanked Nico for the drinks, her voice steady and sure. Nico’s laughter filled the air, a melodic sound that wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. “You’re welcome,” he replied, his tone warm and inviting.

Before she could say anything else, he extended his hand with a charming grin. “I’m Nico,” he introduced himself, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Y/N felt a rush of nerves as she struggled to respond, the weight of Nico’s presence catching her off guard, and in the heat of the moment without thought she blurted out an awkward “I know,” immediately cringing at her own words. Nico’s laughter only grew louder, genuine amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, it’s nice to meet you again, ‘I know’,” he teased gently, his easygoing demeanour putting her at ease.

Blushing furiously, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with him, the tension of the moment melting away in the warmth of their shared laughter. “Sorry, that probably sounded weird,” she chuckled nervously. “My friend just told me about the team and their captain, and then I realised it was you and…” you rambled on as you tried to explain yourself as the awkwardness you felt lingered. Nico shook his head, his smile widening as he interrupted your panic. “Not at all. It’s kind of cute actually,” he reassured her, his gaze warm and reassuring.

Relieved by his response, Y/N felt her nerves begin to ease. “Thanks,” she replied, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “So, uh, what brings you to the bar tonight?” she asked, eager to keep the conversation flowing.

As the evening progressed, the conversation between Y/N and Nico flowed effortlessly, punctuated by shared laughter and easy banter. Y/N occasionally glanced over at her friend Jessica, ensuring she was enjoying herself, only to find her deeply engaged in conversation with Timo Meier, the player she had pointed out earlier.

Seeing that her friend was in good hands with her newfound connection, Y/N turned her attention back to Nico. With each passing minute, she found herself drawn further into Nico’s magnetic presence. Her initial nervousness gave way to a growing sense of comfort and excitement. And as the night wore on, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this unexpected encounter was just the beginning of something truly special. 

Jersey lights and Italian Delights

The clicking of Y/N’s heels echoed across the lobby of her apartment building as she nervously adjusted her dress, the sleek black fabric hugging her curves in all the right places. She had opted for a longer dress at Jessica’s suggestion, feeling a bit out of her comfort zone in such formal attire, especially for a date. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage before stepping out into the cool evening air.

As she descended the steps, her heart raced with anticipation. There he was, leaning against the sleek black car, his brown hair swept back, revealing those familiar and warm brown eyes. When he spotted her, his face lit up with a smile that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. 

“Hey there, ‘I know’,” he greeted her, his voice filled with warmth and affection. “You look stunning!”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush at his compliment as she approached him, his arms wrapping around her waist in a comforting embrace. Meeting his gaze, she couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you,” she replied softly, her heart racing with excitement. “Ready for our date?”

Their first date was nothing short of magical—a candlelit dinner at a cosy Italian restaurant, where time seemed to stand still as they delved into deep conversations and shared intimate stories. Amidst the flickering candlelight, Nico and Y/N’s connection only grew stronger as the night went on.

As their relationship progressed, Y/N and Nico found themselves drawn to familiar places that held special memories for them. None more so than the cosy, quaint coffee shop where they had first locked eyes. 

“One cappuccino for my favourite author!” Nico’s voice rang out cheerfully as he approached their table, bearing two steaming cups of coffee. Y/N glanced up at the brown-haired man, a smile tugging at her lips at his playful remark. Accepting the coffee, she savoured the rich aroma before taking a sip, feeling the warmth spread through her. “Well, thank you, my favourite hockey player in the NHL,” she quipped in return as he settled into the booth opposite her. Nico chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. “Yeah, I’d better be,” he teased, reaching across the table to gently brush his fingers against hers.

Their playful banter was interrupted by the familiar sound of Y/N’s phone buzzing with a notification. It was an email about her book release event, scheduled for the following week. Excitement bubbled up inside her as she shared the news with Nico. “I’d love for you to come,” she said, her voice tinged with anticipation. “It would mean the world to me to have you there.” Nico’s response was immediate and unwavering. “Of course I’ll be there,” he said, his brown eyes filled with sincerity.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

As the day of the book release event arrived, Y/N felt a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through her veins. Sitting at the table where she signed copies of her book for eager fans, her heart was fluttering with each interaction. Amidst the bustling atmosphere, she couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure in the line. It was Nico, patiently waiting with a copy of her newly released book clutched to his chest.

When Nico finally approached her table, his eyes lit up with excitement as he handed her his copy of her book. “Hey there, ‘I know’,” he greeted warmly, a grin spreading across his face. “I’ve been looking forward to getting my hands on a signed copy of this book. I’ve heard the author is amazing!”

Y/N chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through her. She signed his copy, adding a little extra flourish with a heart next to her signature.

“Well, a little special signature for my favorite fan then!”

Midnight came creeping, and the event came to a close. Y/N stood up from her seat, approaching Nico, who had been engaging with her fans and colleagues throughout the evening. She smiled at him, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you for being here,” she spoke softly. “Having you by my side means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Nico pulled her into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively. “I’ll always be here for you,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. 

“No matter what.”

From Ice to Ink

Amidst the whirlwind of her book release and hectic schedule, Y/N found herself attending her first hockey game at the Prudential Center in New Jersey. Adorned in Nico’s jersey, proudly displaying the number 13 on her back, she felt a sense of pride and excitement as she entered the arena to support Nico and the New Jersey Devils as they faced off against the Nashville Predators.

Welcomed by a friendly security guard, Y/N was guided to the room reserved for the players’ wives and girlfriends, where she was warmly greeted by the other women. Engaging in conversation and camaraderie, she felt a sense of belonging among them, despite it being her first time attending a game. As the game started, Y/N found her seat alongside the other wives and girlfriends, excitement filled the air. And Y/N couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as she watched Nico and the Devils take to the ice. 

As the game unfolded, the tension in the area was palpable. The Predators put up a strong fight, but the Devils matched them stride for stride. The score remained close throughout the game, with both teams trading goals in a back-and-forth battle. Y/N watched with bated breaths as Nico and his teammates fought tirelessly on the ice. The energy in the arena was electric, with fans on the edge of their seats as the team vied for control of the game.

The third period had the whole arena on the edge of their seats. With the score tied, the two teams fought to get the puck into their opponents goal. Chasing the puck across the ice, Nico seized a golden opportunity. As the puck soared into the back of the net, the arena exploded with cheers and applause. Amidst the jubilant roar of the crowd, Nico’s celebration was a sight to behold. With a leap of sheer exhilaration, he raised his arms triumphantly, his face radiant with joy. 

Turning towards the stands, his gaze found Y/N amidst the sea of cheering fans. A wide smile spread across his face as he blew her a kiss, a gesture filled with love and appreciation. In that moment, amidst the deafening roar of the crowd, it was as if time stood still, and their connection shone brightly for all to see. 

As the final buzzer sounded, signalling the end of the game, the scoreboard read: New Jersey Devils 4, Nashville Predators 3. The Devils had emerged victorious in a hard-fought battle, much to the delight of fans in attendance. 

After the game, Y/N waited patiently with the other women in the lounge as the players headed to the locker room. Y/N couldn’t resist checking social media for highlights of the game. To her surprise, she stumbled upon a clip of Nico’s post-game interview. “The celly you did after your goal was terrific,” the interviewer remarked. “That kiss into the crowd—was that planned? Perhaps directed at someone?”

Nico’s smile widened as he responded, “Well, it was a special moment for me. It’s actually my girlfriend’s first game here, so I just wanted to show her a little extra love.”

Watching the interview, Y/N felt a rush of emotion as Nico publicly referred to her as his girlfriend for the first time. When Nico finally emerged from the locker rooms, she couldn’t contain her excitement, rushing to greet him with a big hug and congratulations on the win and his goal.

“So, I’ve been upgraded from ‘I know’ to girlfriend now, huh?” She teased playfully.

Nico chuckled, his eyes filled with affection. With a gentle smile, he pulled away and reached into his suit pocket, retrieving something special from the night—a puck. It was inscribed with the words “Y/N’s first game” in white marker. 

“Well, it would be my pleasure if you’d want that promotion,” he replied, his gaze locked onto hers with those captivating brown eyes as he presented her the puck. 

Nico's words had her cheeks flaring, and with a surge of happiness she nodded eagerly. "I would love to be your girlfriend, Nico!"As their eyes met, he grinned and leaned in to give her a tender kiss, sealing the moment with a promise of more to come.

[conjuredsun]

The Witch Father

In traditional witchcraft, we often come across mentions of the enigmatic Witch Father. His Folklore is scattered, and there is little consensus to who He is. The mythology of Witch Father folklore is spread across centuries, hidden in tales of the Devil and in the transcripts from witch trials. He is a multifaceted being who rules over life, death, initiations, knowledge, and the untamed wilderness lurking at the edges of society.

The Witch Father is an archetypal Divine Masculine Spirit that illuminates life and is a lord of death. Witch Father is a catchall title for the myriad spirits witches have historically contracted with and have since been omitted by the witch trial transcripts across Europe. 

He is most commonly known as the Devil in today’s craft. As we know him, The Witch Father is an initiator and holds the keys to our disinhibition towards pleasure. He opens the way to occult knowledge and gives us the opportunity to explore (legal) pleasures without the need for guild or shame. Walking with the Witch Father allows us to dive into the hidden realms and learn the Occult Arts to change our lives. He also allows us to revel in primal human desires. 

As the Initiator into Witchcraft, the Witch Father takes on the mantle of the Light Betwixt the Horns. He comes into our lives and offers us the choice to go down this path and walk with Him. He grants us an understanding of magick, nature, and pleasure. He empowers us to uncover our Truth and the Truth of the World. As the initiator, some see the Witch Father as Lucifer. He is also the Serpent who revealed to Eve that the fruit from the Tree of Life will not cause her to die but will grant the wisdom of the universe.

The Witch Father allows space for us to free ourselves from the inhibitions placed on us by general society, and especially the church. He encourages us to rebel, sing, dance, and uncover wisdom. He leads the Witch’s Sabbath, which grants us a place to revel in the freedoms offered there. By leading us to this sacred experience, He fills his role as an emanation of the untamed wilderness, the primal subconscious of our most human desires. He gives us the Church of Nature. Taking the liturgical prayers of the Church and the Book of Psalms, mixing that with more ancient pagan animism, we are given access to a hidden power through His teachings.

Now, while I talk as if the Witch Father is a God, he is not. He is an ancient and powerful spirit who has led witches over the centuries and demands reverence. He is not all-powerful and is not a creator. He works his charms through magic and shapes the world. He is not a distant, impersonal being. He is immediate to us and is a mentor for us. 

Disinhibition

At the Witch’s Sabbat, our spirits fly away to commune with Our Devil, other witches and spirits in His retinue. It was a place to mix business and pleasure. At the Sabbat, witches would learn new spells, come together to work rituals, learn new forms of magick from the Witch Father, and of course partake in enjoyment. 

The Sabbath is a place of Initiation for new witches and also a place for learning new aspects of the craft. Once the business concludes, the Sabbat becomes a celebration. We may forget the staunch rules of mundane society and revel in our animalistic and beastial joys. There is singing, dancing, food and drink. We can indulge in these desires and these delicacies. All of which is orchestrated and gifted to us by the Witch Father. 

The Wild

There is a deep connection between the Witch Father and Nature. They are ‌synonymous with each other. He is an emanation of the land and its spirits. As Christianity became the dominant religion, and as society shifted further away from living in harmony with Nature, the figure of the folkloric Devil grew. He calls to us to return to the untamed lands and to forget the society that weighs us down. He offers liberation instead of our oppression. 

The Witch Father, as Nature, holds a duality over life and death. He is life itself and the bringer of light. But he is also the Lord of Death and of shadows. As the year turns, we see both aspects and the cyclical nature of them. Death giving way to new life and of life giving way to death. He is destruction and creation. Death and resurrection. 

Even His iconography and the existing descriptions that we have of the Devil show the immense connection He has to the Land. He is a shapeshifter comfortable in being a recognizable animal, a humanoid form, or even a hybrid. He reminds us of our baser instincts and that we are not above animals or the land just because we, as humans, have subjugated them for centuries. 

He is the Horned one, the light betwixt the horns, Terra Pater, Primus Magus. And he has revealed himself to us in so many other forms throughout the centuries. It’s hard to pigeonhole the Witch Father as any one being, or to even say “this is what he looks like.” He’s shown us he is comfortable changing his shape on a whim. He takes on the mantles of mentor, guide, and is a safe space for us to let our guard down and find enjoyment outside of our mundane lives. 

Old Scratch

Old Scratch is a more antiquated term for The Devil or Satan primarily found in the Southern United States and the South Midlands. This name has been memorialized in Faustian Folklore such as “The Devil and Tom Walker” and “The Devil and Daniel Webster” where our protagonist sells his soul to the devil for prosperity. 

This reinforces the theme that our Witch Father, the Folkloric Devil, offers us a chance to change our luck and our lives. Now, in these stories, the protagonist is taken away and dragged into the fires of hell, but in the living practice of Traditional Witchcraft, it doesn’t happen that way. We see these stories as what happens when trying to break deals with the Otherworld. Contracts and Pacts made with Spirits should be kept up with. It’s imperative. 

Black Shuck

In East Anglian folklore, Black Shuck is an omen of death. If you see him, it is said that you will die before the year is up, and if you meet his eye you’ll be dragged away. 

The first mention of the Black Shuck is in “The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle” in 1127 where He is affiliated with a Wild Hunt that was in Petersborough from Lent through Easter. Later on, in the 1500s, he is said to have broken into a church and killed two paritioners while kneeling in prayer. 

Here we see the Chthonic side of the Devil. He is a psychopomp taking souls to the Other Side. He is a shepherd of the dead, warns us of impending doom, and teaches us about life, death, and ways to travel between the Worlds.

[beforeimdeceased]

…ELECTRIC LADY 📺💋🚬

pairing: 70s!ellie x reader

synopsis: the devil’s back in town and there’s no angel to save you.

author’s note: the lack of these ellie fics was baffling. LIKE THE MULLET IS RIGHT THERE! ib the lovely @ellabsweet

part one. > part two.

⋆˚✿˖°

“why’s she keep showing up?”

“well if you give a dog a bone.”

“oh fuck off i ain’t give her nothing but a good time. she’s the one asking me to leave with her to a different state.”

“road trip? maybe that’ll do you good.”

“you need to get fucked every which way and loose. you’re too uptight, doll.”

was why your feet were currently dangling outside the window of the ever charming girl’s 72 grey oldsmobile, cross hanging just above the dashboard. you bop your body a bit before reaching down to grab a tape she’d left on the passenger seat floor.

“aww man, jimi hendrix.” she nods, tapping her finger on the steering wheel. she’s leant back in the drivers seat, eyes cross with the road. cigarette tucked behind her right ear.

“you know, i don’t know you that well anymore. the city’s changed you.” you open her glove box to find a bottle of brown liquor and a light. “and yet you still agreed to come with me.”

“against my will.” you roll your eyes. it’d been three hours into the trip and you were feigning boredom. all the flavor had gone from your gum, and you weren’t in the mood for a book.

ellie was a country city country girl, cause it all happened in that exact order. a couple years ago she moved to where the buildings were brighter and the possibilities were endless. you’d actually been talking about her the day she came back.

“that’s ellie.” you point to the picture of the smiling girl pinned to the diner wall. “she’s a big star now, too good for us.” you explained to eilaine. she’d just moved into town and you two quickly bonded over music, makeup, and dancing. throw a little gossip in the mix while you’re at it.

you nearly chuck up your milkshake when the chime rings and the aforementioned movie star walks in. hands in her pockets and a smile on her face. she’d cut her hair into a mullet and was dressed like something you’d only seen in a magazine.

“speak of the devil.” you get up to give her a hug.

“and he shall appear.” she hugs back. “hi darling, i’ve missed you.”

a bit of light conversation over some drinks, nuts, and a game of pool that you lost had led you to be huddled up in the hot car with her. how the hell did she convince you to join her in that big city of hers? well it wasn’t all her, your roommates were dying to get you out of there.

“it’s only for a month? let her take you for longer!” dina says mid makeup. she hadn’t even evened out her eyeliner before she started sending you off. and abby was no help. “i can’t protest. i think it’d be good for you, we’ll have that sweet new girl cover your shifts.”

“did you guys plan this behind my back or something?” your eyes follow abby’s body swiftly moving to the closet to pull out a suitcase. “if we did you’d be gone already, now start packing.”

[writeslikeanaria]

she made me do it

sebastian sallow x reader

summary: you catch your best friend in his most intimate moment and watch (self indulgent writing practice)

word count: 1k+

warnings: pervert!reader, self pleasure, gratuitous descriptions of sebastian, SMUT

You had a very tight routine with your best friend Sebastian. Being someone who held their own time in high respect, if you had a routine, you followed it. Which is why you always followed through with Thursday night study night.

During this time, the sun would have finally fallen past the hills in the distance, and the sky would have finally coloured itself a navy blue. Glistening lights in the sky above signalled that you had somewhere to be. Like clockwork, your feet carried you to the Slytherin boy’s dormitory, countless books in hand, with a satchel thrown over your shoulder, full of fresh parchment and aromatic ink.

It was always you and Sebastian, sprawled across the floor, textbooks decorating the ground like coloured tiles. Some nights, you would even drift off into a careless slumber as knowledge filled your brain. Ominous never joined you, as he himself had plans of his own, discluding you two, not that you minded. Spending time with Sebastian often gave you butterflies.

Which is why you were always so excited to bundle into his room and gaze at him as you worked. Sure, you harboured a docile crush towards the brunet, but you kept it to yourself, never speaking those three vulnerable words out loud. Even if you dreamed every night about his curious eyes, and luscious hair, and long, nimble fingers, attached to his toned arms…

This night was nothing different than usual. The sun had set, so you had begun your journey to Sebastian’s room, but as you closed in on his door, you realised that this night was so widely different from every other night.

Through the small crack in the door, your ears picked up on the gentle hum of Sebastian’s purring. His low voice seemed somehow lower and he was vocalising in the most enticing way. You couldn’t believe it; he was moaning.

At first, you assumed your good friend was in pain, but as you pressed your ear to the door, you realised you were wrong. Through the soft murmurings of his moans, you could also hear the squelching noises of wet against skin. You had no doubt about what Sebastian was doing in the room next door.

But surely you were mistaken, as Sebastian would never forget about your scheduled weekly study. While your brain was trying to sift through every viable reason why Sebastian could be making the most delicious noises behind the door, your lower stomach was pulsing, your cunt tightening around nothing, crying and whining over the lack of attention. With your body against the door, you quietly let your fingers dance around the waistline of your skirt, until it was resting just above your panties.

You contemplated your perverted desires. You knew what you were doing was wrong, but the devil on your shoulder had tied your angel in ropes, and encouraged you to enfilage in the dangers of lust. Rationally, you knew you should leave, and you even got to the point where your hands left your burning skin, but one small noise stopped your fingers departure.

“…Y/N…”

Your mouth ran dry, with all the wetness travelling straight to your cunt. You nearly moaned at Sebastian’s sweet confession, a confession you knew you were never supposed to hear. Every fibre of your being told you to leave, to forgot the beautiful noises you heard, and to respect the privacy of your best friend, but that devil wouldn’t stop persuading you.

Hovering over the door handle, you contemplated, before reaching for your wand and casting a short “silenco” through the lock. At once, the sounds stopped, and your greedy girl down below retaliated with an aggressive clench. You had upset the devil, and now she was taking control.

You knew it was wrong as you turned the door handle. You knew it was wrong as you casted a disillusionment charm over yourself. You knew it was wrong when you crept silently into Sebastian’s private chambers, but you couldn’t help yourself. As soon as you were in ear shot of his sweet noises once again, the devil was satiated.

This time, you could see the brunet in all his glory, and boy, did it make your heart flutter. Spread gorgeously across his emerald sheets, his bare, toned chest was exposed to the world, with a dim candle casting shadows across his muscles, accentuating the curve of his chest and stomach. A glistening sheen of sweat covering his body, adding to the look of lust.

His head was thrown back against his pillow, eyes clenched shut, perfect lips caught between his teeth and his fist worked over time on his cock.

His cock.

Oh, how it was a marvellous sight. Strong and large, the colour of deep scarlet decorating the tip, with pearly white precum generously pouring out. You licked your lips as your watched how furiously he beat his own meat.

“Oh- oh! Nggg—”

You could tell how he was trying to hold in his voice, but you couldn’t be happier that he was failing. The tension in his thick thighs was delicious to watch, as you took notes on the way he pleasured himself. You studied his attempts at teasing, sometimes slowing down his rhythm to slowly trace the underside of his cock, to take in massive gulps of breath.

How greedy.

The devil on your shoulder agreed with your sentiments, giggling to herself. In your ear, you could hear her whispering about all the things you could be doing to Sebastian right now. How you could have him at your mercy, whining and begging for you directly, as you licked up his thick cock. You could be teasing him, making eye contact with him, bathing in those brown puppy dog eyes of his.

Your fingers were now in your panties, rubbing tight circles across your clit, as your eyes were fixed on Sebastian and his task at hand. You tried your best at matching his rhythm, but you were indulgent to yourself, letting your own fingers filled you slightly, as you stroked your puffy lips with vigour.

Lost in your own pleasure, you nearly missed the way Sebastian’s voice elevated, crying out your name one last time. Luckily, the devil peeled your eyes open, allowing you to see the splattering of cum erupt out of the tip of his cock, coating his chest. His lungs were filling with air as he laid there in his afterglow, sucking in breath after breath. You removed your hand from your panties, not allowing yourself that same pleasure.

You were determined that the next time you would cum would be from Sebastian’s fingers, not your own.

~~

haven’t written in over a year + haven’t written for hogwarts legacy before so i thought i’d get some practice in before i write my big fic idea.

coming soon: poly juice + ominis + sebastian

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Potter Direction ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ You Are The Blood by sarcasticfluentry {E, 175k}

A seventh-year Hogwarts AU in which Niall gets all the girls, Liam goes on a journey of self-discovery, Zayn falls in love, Harry wants something more, and Louis tries to figure out once and for all why he, a Muggleborn, was sorted into Slytherin.

2️⃣ Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices by Toomanytears / @toomanydreamers {E, 126k}

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

3️⃣ i'll be yours to keep by midnights {NR, 17k}

louis should've thought a lot more about who he said his fake boyfriend is, especially since he and his "significant other" kinda hate each other. most of the time.

4️⃣ a fully armed battalion (to remind you of my love) by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics {T, 5k}

“He was flirting with you by the way,” Niall says casually once he’s finished saying goodbye to Louis and he’s joined Harry outside.

“No he wasn’t,” Harry replies automatically, feeling his heart clench at the thought. Was he?

Niall simply raises a mocking eyebrow in response before wrapping his scarf twice around his neck.

“Not that it matters!” Harry says quickly, eyes widening. “I wouldn’t care even if he did because he’s awful and the worst.”

Everyone at Hogwarts knows that Professor Styles and Professor Tomlinson absolutely despise each other. It's too bad that they're in love.

5️⃣ Magical Soup by gloria_andrews / @gloriaandrews {E, 28k}

Slytherin prefect Louis Tomlinson's seventh year at Hogwarts takes an immediate turn for the worse when he's made to be potions partners with Harry Styles, Hufflepuff's resident heartthrob and class clown. Louis has always considered Styles to be a terrible show-off who coasts by on his charm and good looks, but the more they work together, the more he questions that idea. As term goes on, will Louis be able to admit to himself that he might actually like Harry Styles after all... and maybe, just maybe, as more than a friend?

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 The Lone Hydrangea by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic {E, 77k}

“Thank you again,” he smiled at Harry as he picked up the arrangement and headed towards the door, and Harry quickly realised he didn’t know the man’s name. “I – wait! Sorry, I just...what’s your name?” At the man’s eyebrow raise, Harry stumbled over his words, “It’s just, if you’re coming back, I thought I should…know.” As the man looked at Harry, his smile only grew, and Harry’s heart thumped in his chest. “My name’s Louis. Louis Tomlinson, and it was so lovely to meet you,” he shot one final grin in Harry’s direction, “I’ll see you next week, Harry.” And then he was gone. “It was lovely to meet you too,” Harry whispered to the empty shop, putting his head on the counter, “Louis”.

Or the post Hogwarts AU where Harry's a florist, Louis' a muggle who edits fantasy books, and they both have no say in how quickly they fall for each other.

💎 Know a Trick or Two by @sadaveniren {E, 44k}

The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child.

Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts.

Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

💎 We Will Find Our Way by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose {T, 23k}

“Yeah, well you see I was just… erm. I’m sleep walking!”

“Sleepwalking?”

“Yep,” Harry nods his head. “Definitely sleep walking right now.”

Louis' lips turn up in amusement. “You’re really talkative for a sleep walker. Do you usually wear shoes to bed?” He points down at Harry’s bedroom shoes in the shape of a badger and Harry shuffles his feet.

“Yeah, I know that I’m going to sleepwalk so I wear shoes to bed so I don’t stub my toe and hurt it,” Harry explains hardly believing that Louis is actually humoring his very obvious lie.

Louis maintains a stern expression for only a minute before he bursts out laughing. “You do talk some shit, don’t you?”

Or the one where Harry is a Hufflepuff, Louis is a Slytherin and they take midnight walks together.

💎 I've been thinking 'bout it all day by lsforever / @kingonafiftymetreroad {E, 7k}

When he heard about the job opening, from his nosy Aunt of course, Harry was ecstatic to go down there and talk to the shop owner. Her name is Perrie, and she and her best friend Louis opened the shop together not too long ago. Harry remembers the pair well from when he was in school.

or, Harry gets a job in Perrie and Louis' potion shop. He wasn't planning on the huge crush he develops on his boss.

💎 This Soft and Fluffy Thing Called by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {G, 3k}

Harry waits.

He waits for his eleventh birthday. He waits with bated breath. He waits and waits and waits and watches the post for the letter - the letter that decides his fate - the letter from Hogwarts.

or, the one where Harry was adopted as a baby, his downstairs neighbor is Louis, and he really should learn not to keep things bottled up.

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 8

Hello! It does look like there is only one more chapter to write on Paper Hearts so yay!!! I'm not sure how much longer Sweet Home Indiana is but it's nearing it's end too.

Steve is never going to go to another party after this, Eddie gets book two of the Boy with a Bat, and they have a frank discussion about how Eddie gets paid for his less than legal side gig.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

trigger warning: homophobic language by an OC.

****

At least the swim team knew to how to throw a party. Lyle was hosting and even though his family wasn’t well off, not like Steve’s parents, there was still enough room for the whole team and a few of their friends to have a good time.

Granted there wasn’t any booze, not openly anyway, but there were ice chest after ice chest of canned sodas. And all kinds, too. Steve was on his third Coke and had already sussed out the dude with the beer and was working his way over.

Going right up to the guy was asking for trouble that neither of them wanted.

The music wasn’t too loud, but you could dance to it in the main part of the house. People were actually laughing and having fun.

Which really should have been Steve’s cue. The universe was out to get him and wouldn’t let him have a moment’s peace.

He had almost reached the guy with the beer when Ezra blocked his path.

“Hey, Steve,” he greeted syrupy sweet. “I’m so glad you made it out. I wasn’t sure if you would come without Eddie Munson.”

Steve frowned and tried to move around his co-captain. “I go lots of places without Eddie. I went to nationals without him, didn’t I?”

Ezra put his hand on Steve’s chest to stop him. “Sure you did, but we didn’t win nationals now, did we?”

Steve looked down at the hand on his chest. “We swam our hearts man, the other teams were just better. Hell, that team from Georgia was on fire.”

Ezra snorted and rolled his eyes. “They only got where they were because they were black. They didn’t have any real talent. Not like us. Not like you and me, Steve.”

“Are you saying Lyle and Nick held us back?” he asked with his brow furrowing deeper in his confusion.

“We’ve always known that Lyle is a strong swimmer and not a fast one,” Ezra moaned waving the drink in his other hand around. “But he’s all this shit town has on offer.”

Steve gently pushed Ezra off of him. “Hey, how about not talking shit about the actual host, man.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he huffed. “That’s not even why I’m over here. I’m here to warn you about Munson.”

And there it was. Everyone in his life had felt the need at some point in the last six months to warn him off the super senior.

The other boy leaned in close, his lips a snarl. “He’s a queer, a little faggot boy,” he hissed, the spit landing on Steve’s face. “It’s the town’s worst kept secret.”

Ice slid down Steve’s spine. Oh shit. Of all the places he thought the other co-captain was going to go, that was not it. Drugs. DND. The ranting on table tops. All that slid away to sheer terror.

“And you better not bend over in the showers,” Ezra continued, “a pretty thing like you would just be his type.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Wha–what do you mean?”

“Everyone knows that if you can’t pay for your weed,” Ezra sneered, “that he’s willing to take a blowjob as payment instead.” He leaned further into Steve’s space, so that they were almost touching, the stench of weed radiating off the other boy in waves. “I saw Harry Masters sucking him off for a gram of the good stuff.”

Steve stomach lurched and swooped, bile rising up in his throat. Harry Masters was on the baseball team. He was tall, good looking, with that devil may care charm of Rob Lowe. Looked like him, too.

“What he does or doesn’t do doesn’t effect me, man,” he said, trying to aim for nonchalant and missing by a mile.

Ezra laughed in his face.

“Dude,” he cackled, “if you didn’t want people to think you’re down bad for ‘the Freak’ maybe rein in the eye fucking. I’ve seen the way you look at him and it makes me sick.”

That was when Steve got it. He had been wondering what the hell this conversation was.

“Oh my god!” he laughed. “Fuck, man, you were scaring me for a second there. You’re just jealous I don’t have the hots for you.”

Ezra pushed him. “The fuck I do, Harrington!”

“No, no!” Steve crowed. “I’ve got it all figured it out. All the times I caught you staring at me, all the times I felt someone watching me, all the times you’d try to keep me late after practice. You wanted me all to yourself.”

His co-captain turned purple with rage and swung at Steve, but before he could even flinch, there was someone at his side, holding Ezra’s wrist to keep the hit from even going anywhere near Steve’s face.

“Eddie!” Steve breathed. “What are you doing here?”

Eddie smiled at him with that soft dimpled grin Steve loved. “Hey ya, Stevie. I was just plying my wares when I heard the commotion and came over to make sure you were all right.”

“So you are my good luck charm,” Steve said brightly.

Ezra wrenched his arm out of Eddie’s hand. “This doesn’t concern you, Freak!”

Eddie leaned in close and cocked his head to the side. “It does, because you were talking shit about me and Stevie, here. And as Stevie’s good friend, I’mma gonna come to his rescue. Now, you’re going to skedaddle on home and sleep all this off.”

Ezra spat in his face. “Or what?”

The older teen just smiled menacingly. “Or else that gram you smoked will be the last you ever smoke, because I’ll report to you for doping for matches.”

Ezra paled and he gulped. “You can’t do that! I’ve never done anything but weed.”

“That’s true,” Eddie admitted. “But they’d have to do this big investigation and your name would be dragged through the mud. Or you could toddle off and go to college and leave this town in your rearview mirror.”

Ezra turned on his heel and ran out of the house as if the hounds of hell were on his tail.

Steve shook his head. “You do know this is where all the allegations about you being a devil worshiping cult leader come from, right?”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “They can think all they want.”

*

Eddie and Steve talked about what Ezra had said about how people make payments for their weed.

“I won’t deny that people have offer to blow me or even have sex with me in exchange for drugs,” Eddie said as they lay curled up on his bed. “But I’ve never taken anybody up on that.”

Steve twisted his head to look up at his boyfriend. “I can’t say I’m not pleased to hear that, but is there a reason why?”

“Several,” he admitted pulling Steve in closer. “One is that there is an actual fucking pandemic going on regarding gay men, and I wouldn’t trust those assholes even with a condoms. Another is that if I say yes to one, then I’ve got to say yes to next guy. And as my supplier wants actual cash for his product, blow jobs aren’t currency in any country I know of. And despite what Ezra said, most of the people offering aren’t men.”

Steve hummed as he snuggled under Eddie’s chin. “I can see that. Any other reasons why you won’t?”

“Does having a super hot boyfriend count?” he chuckled.

Steve kissed the underside of his jaw. “That’s a very good reason.” His hand slipped down his boyfriend’s side and to his belt. “A super hot boyfriend who is very grateful for the rescue.”

Eddie moaned as Steve’s fingers ghosted over his zipper. “Yeah and how are you going to show that gratitude?”

Steve slid down Eddie body and undid his belt. “I was thinking it was such a shame you didn’t get those blow jobs when your cock is so delectable.”

Eddie gasped and threw back his head as his super hot boyfriend’s breath felt hot on the front of his boxers. “God, baby. Show me what you’ve got.”

And Steve spent their evening doing just that.

*

Steve fidgeted nervously at Eddie’s locker after school. He had finished the most recent comic with only a week of school to spare. He had made sure that Jonathan and Nancy weren’t staying after school for any reason so they didn’t see him make the hand off. He knew he should have just done it at the trailer, but with him cutting it so fine before the end of the year, he didn’t want to make Jeff and the others wait for it.

Eddie loped over to his boyfriend and looked around. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

He thrust the comic at Eddie, his eyes downcast. “It’s the most recent comic. There’s an explanation like before. But please don’t let people see that part.”

Eddie cradled the comic to his chest. “I’ll be careful, I promise. I’m guessing this means you aren’t coming over tonight?”

Steve shook his head. “Lucas wants to go see the latest Bond film, but his friends don’t want to go with him...”

“So you offered to take him,” Eddie finished. “That’s sweet of you.”

Steve snorted and shook his head. “His parents think I’m taking him to ‘Meet the Littles’ or some shit like that.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Yeah, that’s more like the Steve Harrington I know and love.”

“I’ll call when I get home, though...” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

“Okay,” Eddie murmured. “Well talk then.”

*

This time Eddie went straight to the back page to read the explanation first.

“Hey, Eds,

Again there are parts in between this, parts that don’t include me, that I’ll some day tell you all about. But I’m focusing on the parts I was part of. This time it all started with what the kids thought was a new species of lizard and turned out to be the beginning stages of an Upside Down monster. One they they dubbed the demodog.

I can just picture you frowning as you try to remember where you heard that from and the answer is you heard it from me. You asked me what it was and I told you it from one of their game thingies, but that’s only part of it. These demodogs have flower faces and run on four legs. They are part of a hive mind that allows them to communicate with each other.

Dustin had taken one of these things home and it ate his cat. His cat. You can be disgusted, I know I was. He had originally gone to Nancy’s for help but she had gone off with Jonathan about something related to Barb Holland. This was right after our fight at the Halloween party.

I was on my way with roses to apologize to her, when he intercepted me. And the rest is as they say is history. I would do anything for that kid now.

The other players are Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield. I don’t know if you need to know that, but I feel like you have to understand that for the rest of it to make sense.

I have so many tales to tell you but I can’t because it could get you hurt and that is the last thing I want to do.

Also, (blurred words) show you all the times I was brave, that I did the (more blurred words) when it came (blurred words) because I love you so much and (blurred words again) less of me.

Love,

Your Stevie”

Eddie hated how easy Steve had pegged him for frowning at the name like he said he would or how he knew he would be disgusted at the poor cat. He stared at the blurred words for a moment before his own eyes welled up.

Steve had tried writing over the parts with what were clearly tear drops but all it had done was make it worse. Why he didn’t just write again, Eddie didn’t know.

But Eddie could now make out the words, “Also, I wanted to show you all the times I was brave, that I did the right thing when it came to it, because I love you so much and I didn’t want you thinking less of me.”

He flipped back to the beginning and started reading. It was thrilling and exciting. That was if you didn’t know it really happened. And happened to the sweetest boy he had the privilege of knowing.

He wiped away his tears and made a promise to whatever it took to protect this boy with every fiber of his being. Because by god, someone had to.

****

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson

@messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi

@val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

@angels-of-hades @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce

@acingthecounts @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @kultiras @ravenfrog

[sky-kiss]

Raphael & Jaheira: You All Meet at an Inn

A/N: I had to get an intro out of the way before proper sassing down the line. And apologies, I'm out of practice with writing.

R & J: Let's be honest, his taste in wine is so much better than hers

Like many of his kind, the devil was a series of contradictions. 

Handsome but not striking. Languid, but only on a cursory inspection. A more pointed observation would showcase the taut muscles in his shoulders and thighs, hinting that the lazy rolling motion of his wrist was intentional rather than instinctual. And, perhaps most importantly, despite the ostentatiousness of his garb, rich blues, reds, and golds, which demanded attention and respect, few of the Last Light’s patrons truly saw him. 

Jaheira did not fault them for the oversight. The High Harper noted it with a world-weary amalgamation of affection and exhaustion. Few prey animals noticed the hunter until it was upon them. Man and beast were not such disparate creatures. 

She shifted, rolling her shoulders to alleviate some residual tension—the aches that never seemed to properly fade these days, which had faded until only a decade prior. She should turn him out. And aye, much like the aches, even a decade ago, she might have done something about his presence—but where was the harm? He stuck to his corner and played his games. 

In the darker stretches of the night, his attention shifted away from the lance-board and his books towards the door. The devil waited. 

Jaheira waited, too.  

The devil lifted his head, eyes flicking from the Mystra piece to the Harper. He made a show of it, eyes widening, lips turning up in a smile—noticing her, seemingly for the first time. She snorted, arching a brow. He shrugged, expression relaxing into something more neutral and more genuine, motioning to the seat across from him. 

“You know, I rather wondered which of us would bring our little dance to its close,” he began, voice warm and rich. His lips twitched, expression colored with so many masterful little notes—presumed intimacy, natural familiarity…they might have been old friends meeting for drinks in any alehouse. Easiness and charm…the domain of all his kind. His eyes glittered in the firelight. 

The half-elf sunk into the chair, holding her arms out wide. “Shall we continue circling each other like coquettish maids?” Jaheira waved him off. “Who has time for it?”

“Certainly not you, High Harper. All this,” he motioned around them, attention flicking to the window and the shadows just beyond. “Resting on your shoulders…such a weighty calling.” 

“You offer to take it from me?” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it. You are so…uniquely equipped for these travails.” 

Jaheira snorted. “Let us call it experience—hard won over many years of life.” She tipped her head to the side, regarding him closely. Without a room of distance between them, she could appreciate the more minor details of this mortal form: wrinkles near the corners of his eyes, hints of sunspots across the back of his hands, and streaks of gray brightening otherwise dark hair. He felt fully manifest in a way so many of his ilk failed to recognize—the little things grounded an illusion in reality. “Come, tell me what to call you. In my head, it is ‘devil this, devil that’...tedious.” 

His eyes widened. “You shall have to forgive this lapse in manners—it’s the setting, you see. One really isn’t at their best.” He mimed a bow, someone still regal despite the confines of the chair. “I am Raphael—very much at your service.” 

“A pleasant name! Well-suited to this pleasant face.”  

Raphael hummed. With a snap of his fingers, the lance-board disappeared. In its place, a bottle of brandy. She did not recognize the label’s language. “A devil in your house, and yet…we are rather blase.” 

“Do not take it personally.” She ghosted her fingers across the table. “Gods of death, demon princes…after these things—” his muscles drew taut, eyes narrowing as she spoke. “ —your feathers are very pretty, but… you make for a much smaller bird.” 

To his credit, Raphael laughed. He poured them each a glass of wine. As if in concession, he took the first sip—no poison. Jaheira bowed her head and followed suit. The wine’s bouquet blossomed across her tongue—rich and deep, a hint of cherry and leather giving way to softer, more subtle notes. It reminded her of Calimshan—pleasant evenings before the true weight of adventuring settled on her shoulder…when she’d been young, Khalid at her side. 

The knowing glint in his eye said he’d anticipated such a reaction. A smaller bird, perhaps, but cunning. I have survived so many years, his gaze said, and I have thrived for good reason. 

“To walk so freely on the Prime is no small thing. And you do not seem the sort to bind yourself to the whims of mortals…” she tapped her chin. “A cambion, then.” 

“Are we to trade parlor tricks, my dear? Shall I ask if your house qualified you as a ‘princess’ or a ‘lady’ in Tethyr?” 

“A lady, though my youngest will argue that point till she is blue in the face.” Jaheira held up her glass in salute. “Do not take offense—it was a compliment, one mongrel to another.” 

Raphael chuckled. “One mongrel to another.” The cambion sighed, relaxing back into his seat. He stroked his chin, fingers teasing across the whisper of stubble—not quite a day’s growth, perhaps a matter of hours. A testament to his dedication and vanity—over the past week, he’d never moved from his seat by the window. “Shall we be honest with each other, ladyship?” 

“It depends. Will honestly not make your skin itch?” 

“You wound me. I am a paragon of virtue to friends and clients both. And the honest truth is I am awaiting a favorite distraction of mine.” He sipped his wine again. “I dare say they might even solve the lion’s share of your problems. Interested?” 

She hummed. Jaheira settled more comfortably in her chair. “Sing me your song, lovely bird. Perhaps…we may yet benefit one another.”

[aziraphales-library]

Thank you so much for the work you do on this blog. For no reason at all I was wondering if you could recommend some fics where crowley is just extremely happy, having a wonderful day, loving his life

Here are some happy Crowley/good day fics...

May I Have This Dance? by AnonymousDandelion (G)

“Angels,” Aziraphale murmured, the words a warm and welcome breath of air not very far distant from Crowley’s cheek, “don’t dance.” “Oh?” Crowley’s answering smile was practically audible in his voice as he leaned forward, already on the verge of accepting the very obvious temptation to tempt. (That particular subtext technique — tacitly inviting Crowley to push, persuade, entice one step further — was one Aziraphale had mastered long, long ago. It no longer served the same purpose it once had, but that didn't mean they couldn't still dabble in their old patterns, if now purely for the entertainment factor.) “Is that the case, my angel?” “It’s certainly what I’ve heard, at any rate.” Reaching up, Aziraphale caught Crowley’s hand in his own, their fingers interlacing in what was now an accustomed movement… and never any less marvelous, each time, for all its growing familiarity. ~ ~ ~ In which Crowley and Aziraphale are very soft, very happy, and very together. That's the fic.

oh, but surely not by Phoenix_of_Athena (G)

Aziraphale can be firm, sometimes. Sometimes, when he really cares about something, he’ll speak up, and he’ll get this tone to his voice that makes Crowley take notice. It’s a little sharp, undeniably bossy, and it’s immovable…Crowley likes it.  Aziraphale usually takes pains to be passive; affable; soft—whatever he thinks it is that an angel ought to be, in order to guide people towards kindness and good and all that mush. But a lot of that’s an act; those are traits that Aziraphale’s put on, and which, over time, have left an impression on his personality. But really, Crowley’s counterpart has a core of steel underneath all of his silk and cotton. Crowley can be downright cheerful, for a demon. Peppy. Excited. Eager. Like a puppy, Aziraphale thinks when he’s not being particularly charitable, or like a child, when he is. It’s endearing, either way. And it’s striking. When Crowley’s not self-conscious, and he’s usually not around Aziraphale, he’ll get this grin. Wide, and wondering, and kind. Not like the wicked quirk of lips he’ll get after a job well-done, though that smile too has its own appeal—no, this one is hopeful, genuine, and charming in a wholesome way. Aziraphale can never help but smile back.

one of a thousand perfect days by 5ftjewishcactus (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley spend a lovely day together, first curled up in bed together, doting on each other and then later go for a picnic and a bit of stargazing. It really is a perfect day.

Ocimum Basilicum by KannaOphelia (T)

This was their life now. A peaceful village where they could hear the sea. Aziraphale was fast cultivating a reputation as 'that terrible man from the second-hand bookshop, he looks so kind and cuddly but just try buying a book from him, how that nice Mr Crowley puts up with the old devil I'll never know'. Happiness. Happiness was their life. Perhaps it was just that happiness was too much for a demon to bear without getting sick. Or perhaps it was something else entirely.

Enrichment Activities by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

Eager for novelty, Crowley takes up art. Picking one medium would be too limiting, though. Aziraphale is confused by the deluge of sculptures, paintings, and drawings, but he tries to be supportive.

Visibility by Aethelflaed (G)

“I just…woke up like this,” Crowley explained, in what was probably supposed to be a casual voice. “Definitely a curse. Probably one of those angels, thwarting and all, you know how they are.” “An angel.” Pinching zir nose, Beelzebub tried not to imagine the foolish way she was probably grinning. “And by pure coinczzidenzze, this angel juszzt happened to make you completely inviszzible on the day of your department budget review?” -- A mysterious curse that Crowley DEFINITELY didn't cast on herself makes her invisible for a day! What sort of trouble can she get into? Or get her angel out of?

- Mod D

[noneorother]

The art director & the Good Omens book cover tier list of doom, part 2

Part 1 l Part 2

I am your resident Art Director/Good Omens enthusiast, and welcome to my completely meta-free book cover tier list. Listen, making a book cover is HARD. I should know. But while we salute these artists for their hard work and time, I think we can all admit that once in a while, the vision is just not on. And on very rare occasions, publishers seemed to have managed to commission the cover art directly from hell... here's where we left off last time:

Onwards and upwards, as they say. 11. International paperbacks, Goda Omen

It is inexplicable to me but I LOVE this cover art. It's so sweet and innocent, the colours are contrasty and fun, and the layout leaves enough room for the text. Maybe I would call it slightly inaccurate to have our boys dancing on Greenland while the UK has drowned in a great flood, but hey. It's charming. The international cover gets a thwack with a ruler for trying to fit "creator of Discworld" in between the two wings like that, though. Tier: Great

12. Italian Cover, Buona Apocalisse à tutti!

The Italian translation of Good Omens into "Happy Apocalypse to All!" really tickles my funny bone. Unlike this cover which is trying to scrape at it with a dull knife until I'm screaming on the floor. I know demons can only dance badly, but does Crowley *really* have to fracture both ankles while trying? Aziraphale pelvic thrusting his way into heaven is a visual I didn't think I'd ever want. Minus so many points for random murder alley where this is all occurring. At least the designer managed to wrangle the type into one of the best proportional layouts I've seen thus far? Tier: Bad

13. Italian Cover, Good Omens

A truly valiant attempt here to rectify a terrifying situation with that earlier Italian version. While this one actually seems much more interesting at a glance, the details kinda get to me. The Bentley's steering being on the wrong side, the word Omens kindasortanotfquite fitting on the black wing, the motorcycles with no drivers... TIMES NEW ROMAN FOR THE AUTHORS NAMES. I don't think it can even be redeemed by the most powerfully rendered Sacred Heart/Cardi B W.A.P. imagery I've ever seen. Tier: Good (Omens)

14. Japanese cover, Good Omens

Look, this designer GETS IT. Crowley and Aziraphale are a pair, a group of the two of us. Do not separate. It's also the only cover I've seen that uses shades of grey! The woodcut vibes are STRONG AND POWERFUL. The type is well placed! I should love this, except the end result kinda looks like a manual for clinical depression in the workplace? It's ending up higher on the list than it deserves, frankly.

Tier: Good (Omens)

15. Japanese cover, Good Omens

This cover might as well be an Ethereal/Occult firemen's calendar. Someone wanted teens to cut off this cover and tape it to their bedroom wall. I can't even judge the typography or the symbolism because I'm just getting hit with waves of pheromones and angst. I can't even tell if it's good but it's going in the Good pile because I can't look at it anymore...

Tier: Good (Omens)

16. Japanese covers, Good Omens

Other people have assured me that this is, in fact, a dual Good omens cover. Alas, I cannot tell. I don't possess compound eyes or even an exoskeleton, and as such lack the ability to decipher these decisions.

Tier: WTF

16. Japanese cover, Good Omens

Holy overlap, Batman! I can’t fault this designer for wanting to reuse the wonderful dual illustrations in a Ying-Yang layout, all the elements are there, but there’s a clinginess to the type and positioning that makes me feel like someone is trying to hurt the letters? Is this designer okay? Do they need a hug?

Tier: Does the Job

18. Chinese cover, Good Omens

Can I say how charming it is they’ve managed to conserve the halo and devils tale on the Chinese title, as well as the woodcut detailing? However, the simplicity of the cute, contrasting wing design is sadly swallowed by the intense, New-York taxi cab vibes coming off the yellow and checkerboard text block. It could have been so good! Chinese readers: I am mad on your behalf!

Tier: Not so good (Omens)

19. UK 1991 paperback, Good Omens

What are we doing here, people. I think I've stepped into a Jungian analysis of what it feels like to have read Good Omens. It's dreamy yet unsettling. Right yet very wrong. And Ol' "Tiny Hands" Aziraphale up there is really judging me for what they found inside my mind. In less upsetting news, we've kept the improved typography and layout of the authors and book title. All is not lost to the nightmare.

Tier: Not so good (Omens)

20. 50 Shades of Gray rip-off cover, Good Omens

*panic* WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE, PEOPLE...?! Bonus : the guardian quote is almost as much of a mystery as the cover it’s on.

Tier: WTF

End of round 2.

[savagewildnerness]

Let’s talk about the Theatre Des Vampires & its potential impact!?!

First Lestat: pretty sure Lestat is a vampire here: he has the eyes, the nails & Armand is watching him. (Why would Armand watch mortal-Lestat? Unless watching Magnus and I’m sure we won’t see Magnus this season.) And that back bend has all the vibes of Lestat describing how as a vampire he can do impossibly graceful dance movements if he so chooses! (To delight and beguile, or so inhuman as to disturb!)

BUT book-Lestat does not theatre once he is a vampire. There’s only that one time that goes horribly wrong. To me, this does not look like it’s going horribly wrong!?! It looks like Lestat is still being “the greatest actor to have ever graced the stage”…??

Book-Lestat is horrified by vampire theatre. Including himself on the stage! He used to love how theatre conveyed something human & true & real. He felt it was a truly *good* think he could do. Being unable to read, human Lestat did a lot of improvised theatre (& Nicki taught him lines for some plays later on) - I’d argue improvisation being the most spontaneous & human theatre can get… so he finds it even moreso repellent how false it is as a vampire.

Compelled to go out on stage, Lestat looks out & sees a grinning skull behind every face. He feels he cannot find the natural, human meaning in words that was so instinctive to him when mortal. In the theatre, Lestat’s love as a mortal, Lestat truly feels what he has lost & will now never be. He could beguile & trick, but instead he intentionally horrifies the audience & himself - I think he does it `s he is so personally horrified and yet as theatre always was, still it must remain a place of truth for him? In the moment, there on stage, he realises his inhumanity and sees himself almost from outside himself as a horrific (though perfectly natural) monster “the mortal world seemed some desperate dream of rationality that in this lush and fetid jungle had not the slightest chance.” He sees himself like a cat or a rat or the evil vampire he is - he is a creature, but he is not human.

Until this point, other than when killing, Lestat has passed himself off easily amongst mortals as one of them. Yet, here on the stage he feels the Monster he is & cannot bear the artifice and the difference to what he once was, what he had the potential to be and what he was on the cusp of becoming. The theatre is like a reminder to him that his human life is over. This is a quality he will later be unable to bear in Nicki’s virtuoso violin skill once he becomes a vampire too. Nicki leans right in to the parody & evil manipulation of skill as opposed to mortal expression of humanity & performing with the devil’s instrument. Nicki finds a purity and truth in that & it’s the antithesis of what Lestat adored from & felt in Nicki’s mortal violin playing. Just as mad-Vampire-Nicki is the antithesis of all Lestat loved & they immediately despise each other (albeit Lestat will never truly not love too.)

Anyway, back to just-turned Lestat: at the same time, it’s Lestat’s *need* to return to the theatre that is really Nicolas’ downfall. Nicki was always fragile, and moreso when Lestat was stolen away. And of course when Armand kidnaps Nicki he is completely mad & unsaveable by then. But he had a small chance at some life... until this visitation to the theatre by Lestat, where Nicolas truly sees for his own eyes that something awful has befallen Lestat & he doesn’t understand it & nobody but him will believe it as they just want to believe Lestat the wondrous benefactor who has gifted them so much money and the theatre and charms everyone still.

This is in my opinion the point of no return for Nicki. He is a mad thing who I don’t think has any way back to sanity and life from here on. Gabrielle recognises it already even where Lestat cannot admit it to himself when she asks Lestat if he'll turn Nicki. At that time Lestat says he is appalled by the idea... but obviously he would have thought on it. Once Lestat showed his vampire self to Nicki, Nicki’s mortal life was done for. He begins drinking to extreme excess & cannot cope with life at... and this is before Armand snatches him.

Now, if the show have Lestat at the theatre for longer & actually using his skills to trick audiences for a while, will the impact this has on (presumably still mortal) Nicki be even deeper? It surely would be given the scenario…? And so will Lestat feel even more guilt o we Nicki’s eventual downfall? I can almost see it in my mind playing out now. Lestat using his vampiric skill to beguile audiences for a time, Nicki grieving increasingly mad & all the other people at the theatre merely adoring Lestat & not wishing to see anything wrong. And maybe even Nicki wanting to believe in moments that all is well? But really, Nicki growing increasingly fragile until, as in the books Armand steals him away. I just feel like something like this might be in the TV show and I feel that it could be an interesting deepening of the emotion (although it would alter Lestat in the theatre a little and the impact of the theatre to Lestat's self… but then, that was Lestat’s thoughts and horror as a new vampire. He feels very differently by the time he becomes a rock star… so…?!)

And this ties in: the recent clips suggest Claudia loves the theatre & Louis hates it. Louis always hated the callousness of the theatre, but Claudia loved it mainly as a clever way to ensnare victims. In the theatre in the book she is immediately in danger. Will this be different feelings here. This older Claudia may initially love the idea of joining the theatre! It may appeal to her nature! But oh, what awaits her…

Anyway: just some train-of-thought ponderings….

Anyone have thoughts on this?

[violet-hearth]

Devotional Art and Art Magic!

Happy Friday!

Visual art is such an underutilised tool, especially by beginner and younger practitioners. I understand that we all start off excited by spell bags and witch bottles and potions, but as a queer person, so many of us express ourselves through our art and expression can be as big a part of spells as the ingredients (for me expression and intention go hand in hand).

Art has been used both in devotion and in blessings. Displaying art of house blessings was a means to bless the home permanently (Judaism), icons of saints were used as a form of veneration and in prayer (Catholic), and there are several articles and books that dive into art as prayer (mostly Christian).

Sigils + Vision Boards:

Sigils are a visual representation of intent and desire in spellwork and can be incorporated into art through large paintings, sewing patches onto your coat, buttons and badges, painted onto stones, vases, embroidery etc.

Like sigils, a collage can be used as a visual representation of your desire or intent - they can also be an art form of their own and be made as a form of devotional art. 

Fashion:

Fashion and style witchcraft are about coordinating your look into your goals and intentions. Whether this is through charmed jewellery, symbols, sigils, colour associations or flagging. Queer aesthetics is a huge thing for identifying ourselves and the community, and as a queer witch I love charming my carabiner, wearing queer jewellery, and playing with gender. 

The aesthetics of the DIY movement and the aesthetics of queer culture are almost interchangeable. The appeal comes from the look and the fuck-the-man attitude itself, but also from the connection of having handmade, community-focused things by your side. (Queering Your Craft) 

Masks:

Masks can be a great way of incorporating sympathetic and symbolic magic into a larger ritual. Masks can be used to represent archetypes of characters or energies.

In worship of Dionysus, the communicants’ attempt to impersonate the deity by donning goatskins and by imbibing wine and wear a disguise or white linen mask to enable the leaders of the ceremony to make the god manifest. (Britannica)

Masks have been sued in mystery plays, comedia dell’arte, opera, Noh, Dance of the Red Tiger Devil - for both sacred and entertainment productions.

Creating Queer Devotional Art

To protect/enchant the hearts and voices of activists - This spell is meant to protect our hearts and souls, but can be used to honour our queer cultural ancestors, friends, and adapted for honouring deities.

You need:

Art/collage/craft supplies - paint, markers, papers, canvas, glue, magazines, poetry, pens, embroidery, quilting squares etc.

An idea or image you want to create

A white candle

Inspiration:

Devotional art

Jewish Paper Cutting

NAMES project

Queer zines

Protest signs

Trans/Queer Protest Chants

To perform this spell:

Anoint, pray, bless, carve a sigil into etc. The candle and light it - candles often represent the soul so here we’ll let it burn until it naturally extinguishes if safe to do so (a mall candle may be better)

Start creating your image, add in aspects of queer resistance, joy, history, pain, the messages of your own activism. A symbols, symbolism, images of famous activists, sigils, poetry - whatever speaks to you.

If desired, pray, or bless or say an incantation as you finish the piece

Place this art somewhere visible in your house - this spell can also maybe used to make a good sign or banner at protests - optionally turn into a zine, carry around devotional art and art magic in a little notebook or specific sketchbook

This is a very low stakes type of protection. People have been making talismans and hanging up protective decor for centuries. From gargoyles to garlic wreaths to decorative home blessings. This is just a modern adaptation to this world-wide tradition, with a queer and activist focused twist xx

[calypso707]

Astarion x Fem!Tav bard : Fruit of The Poisonned Tree

Intro : Every day, she longed for his touch, his lips against her skin, his voice in her ears, his whole being.

Tags : 3rd pov for this one because i'm more comfortable with it, few chapters comings, this story will be mainly romance I guess, risk of spoilers about Astarion, ascendant form coming..

I hope you’ll like this first chapter, enjoy ! ~

Chapter 1 -

She missed her home at Baldur's Gate deeply. Although the majority of the inhabitants were humans, she had always felt at home there, with the river Chiontar within easy reach. For a bard, she had risen quite successfully and was well liked by the populace and the local lords, often performing at balls and other festivities. What she missed was practising her music on the riverbank, singing to the Blushing Mermaid from morning till night without her vocal chords weakening. She missed the simplicity and comfort of her past life. Quite simple. And in just a few days, it was all gone.

She had been kidnapped by mindflayers, had an illithid larvae inserted behind her eye, survived the crash of their ship,had fought gnolls, goblins and other creatures and now she was sleeping under the stars surrounded by odd companions. A few details aside, that was all. Normal people would have spread this over several months. She was still trying to figure out how she had managed to survive this far.

She looked towards her companions who were surrounding the campfire a few metres away. She had isolated herself, as she like to do, to be alone with her thoughts. Her eyes passed over each of her companions, starting with Lae'zel, a gith she had met aboard the nautiloid. However grumpy her nature was, she had shown unfailing loyalty and was a great ally. She had also crossed paths with a cleric and disciple of Shar by the name of Shadowheart. Then she met Gayle, a magician, in the funniest possible way. Wyll, nicknamed the Blade of Frontiers, son of the Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate who had made a strange pact with a devil, Karlach, a tiefling with a fiery temper and, finally, him.

Astarion.

Tav finally focused her gaze on him, comfortably seated on a wooden chair by the fire, his feet resting on a log. In his right hand he was holding a steel cup, and she could easily guess that the inside was some old brandy, the liquor he enjoyed the most. In his other hand, he was holding a book, he seemed to be absorbed by his reading. From time to time, Karlach teased him to include him in the conversation with the others. The bard tilted her head slightly and squinted her eyes to read the title engraved in gold on the cover of the book, "The Curse of The Vampyr". She held back a smile at the irony of the situation and wondered about the veracity of the tale. Did he see himself in what he was reading? She was curious to know exactly what the manuscript was about - was there anything new she did not already knew?

Her gaze followed the curve of the vampire's arm to focus on his face. His perfect face lit by the dancing light of the fire in front of him. She caught a glimpse at his fangs as he silently read parts of the book, her eyes detailing his perfectly shaped nose before finally coming to rest on his eyes. It was as red as the blood itself, and it pierced her soul every time he looked at her. She felt her heart skip a beat - she had never imagined herself becoming allied and close to such a creature. She had never seen anyone like him. He was dangerously charming and eloquent beyond compare. He was quick-witted, mischievous, teasing and delighted in the misfortune of others. He had a penchant for manipulation, lies, expensive alcohol, art and poetry. And she cursed herself for being drawn to him. Because she knew the influence he could have on her. He was the devil on her shoulder who drove her to commit terrible sins.

It took all her strength to stop staring at him like that, and she returned her attention to the violin at her feet, her fingers brushing the strings. Music was her magic, but it was so much more: it was also a sign of power. A power that could keep battles alive, make heroes eternal, but also shatter reputations and turn cities to pieces. She took a deep breath, as if to restore her own self-confidence, and picked up her musical instrument to return to the others. As she approached the campfire, she realised that everyone had already gone back to their occupations, except Astarion. The vampire looked up from his book to examine the young woman for a few seconds; she could not tell if it was the firelight that was having that effect, but a strange glint shone in his eyes. He stopped reading completely as he closed the book and locked his hands against his chest, still looking at her as she awkwardly sat down at the opposite of him.

"Interesting book? Did you learn anything new?" asked Tav, grabbing a half-full cup from the ground at her feet. Bringing the cup to her lips, she took a big gulp and immediately regretted it, repressing the urge to wince. From the strong aroma of the alcohol, she guessed that it was Chultan Fireswill.

"Surprisingly, no," he sighed. "I was expecting to learn something unusual, so I must admit I am a little disappointed," said Astarion, shrugging his shoulders.

She smiled at his answer, her eyes glued to the flames waving in front of her. The fire was blocking her view of Astarion and it was no bad thing, given how easily she lost her composure when she was alone with him and he liked to take advantage of that. She was glad there was this barrier between them.

"Now, darling, are you trying to run away from me?" asked Astarion. She was able to guess the mischievous smile on his lips. She barely had time to reply when she saw him rise from his chair, walk around the fire and come to her side. He held out his right hand, the other resting casually on his hip.

"All this brandy and small talk whetted my appetite. Shall we ?"

Tav lost herself in his crimson eyes for a few seconds before finally grabbing his hand to get up, leaving her violin on the bare ground. The vampire quietly led her to his tent, which she entered. It was not the first time she had entered it, but the smell wafting through the small space made her heart throb every time. Brandy, rosemary and bergamot. She looked over her shoulder at Astarion, who was closing the entrance to the tent with his agile fingers before returning to her. His fingertips grazed the crook of her neck, a shiver running through her body. He gently wrapped the long braid around his arm as he positioned himself behind her, applying gentle pressure to tilt her head back.

"I have waited for this moment with great patience," he said hoarsely.

Tav tried to calm her breathing, excitement and apprehension gradually taking over her body. She hated as much as she enjoyed the effect he had on her. Astarion tugged gently once more on the braid to tilt her head to the right, exposing her neck completely. He lowered his head, inhaling the scent she gave off before placing a chaste kiss on her sensitive skin. He slidded his other hand up her stomach before touching her breasts, grasping the lace of her corsage with his fingertips and pulling it with a calculated, disconcerting slowness to reveal the birth of her breasts. She half-opened her mouth, her breathing getting heavier and heavier.

"Stop playing that little game," she said. "Be very, very quiet, darling. You do not want to wake up the others" he answered, teasingly.

He then began to place another kiss behind her pointed ear, before placing another one against her neck. She felt something cold brush her skin, she guessed it was his fangs. This was followed by a stabbing pain that radiated throughout her neck. It was not the first time he had fed on her, but each time the ache surprised her. She leaned her back against his chest and placed her hand on Astarion's, which was resting on her breasts, intertwining her fingers with his. She listened to him feed, closing her eyes. Each of his sips, each of his breaths sounded like a melody to her ears. For her, this kind of moment was just as sensual and intimate, it brought them closer in a different way and that was what she enjoyed. Every day, she longed for his touch, his lips against her skin, his voice in her ears, his whole being.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

thank you so much for reading this first chapter, i hope you liked it! I've published the rest on Ao3 : Fruit of the Poisonned Tree. I'll mainly be posting my OS on Tumblr!

[acquiredmen]

Really, now that I've sat with these CDs for months, my biggest peeve isn't that he's lying. It used to be, but not anymore.

It's that they don't address that lying

It means that it contradicts the My Carol epilogue in which Lindo threatens to throw him in a bath of holy water, to which Shiki says that he's no longer interested in the pain. And My Carol ends with that. That's the last info regarding the subject that we get from him

Which I didn't like, but I accepted it. It is what it is, the human change made his interest go poof. Whatever.

Except not, because in EverSweet he's lying. He's lying and plans a whole murder-suicide, only changing his mind when he finally "feels loved"

And then that's it.

That's it.

Obviously, Shiki has lied before in the game, but this. It's pretty significant info that, even after he turns human and his relationship/friends/family situation gets better, he's still lying about something he's insecure about.

This is a him problem, it's not exclusive to the relationship. Shiki can and has lied due to his insecurities.

And then EverSweet is over.

It's done. He bakes cookies and it's done. EverSweer ends.

There's a glimpse of something that he still wants to upset Roen by eating a pom-shaped cookie in front of him, but no "ahaha 'twas but a joke!"

That should've been in the middle of the human route, but, anyways

Charming Book, I'm not as salty about as I used to be

After some searching around, I get that Shiki is still, technically, "doS" post-human-route (the doM is still there, kinda… it tracks with the games where it's also there less than the doS). By which it means that he's forward and likes teasing Ritsu

And I can understand how "the pipe" can escalate "teasing" S to "murder sadist" S, if we go about it with the jp meaning. Reluctantly.

However, given his established track record of lying about it once already, I'm still not inclined to believe he's telling the truth

Honestly I wish EverSweet less more focused on "making Shiki feel loved" and more "help Shiki solve his issues outside of the relationship". Like,

Yeah, that helps, it certainly helps that he gets it through his head that he's loved. But he also was fully ready to commit murder-suicide, I feel like that's not… that's not exactly fixed… I feel like the romance didn't fix that part… I feel like there's still something there that got swept under the rug…

And obviously, his Charming Book comes back with the same issue, but this time "it's the pipe's fault. magical pipe, not me!"

We see him use painting as an outlet in ES, which is a good start. Obviously I'm not expecting Rejet to send him to a therapist, but I feel like implementing different outlets for his pain obsession would've been a better direction than "I don't want to hurt you, I'm fixed! I lied! Okay, now I'm really fixed, I promise!"

An active choice to regulate his engagement in said pain obsession would've been a good sign that he's getting "more human", that he understands the consequences of his actions and wants to preserve this new human life.

That he might still like the idea of murder-suicide, but he understands that actually dying would make it impossible to have dinner with his girlfriend tomorrow. That, as appealing as breaking Ritsuka is in the moment, it'll stop being fun once she's a husk of a person. That, yes, getting beat up by angry random guys sounds appealing, but a broken bone doesn't heal as fast as it used to

Eh, maybe I'm expecting too much realism out of this. But I still feel that acknowledgment and an active choice on his part would've been a better direction than lying. And then not addressing that lying.

I don't know where I was going with this… EverSweet is decent for what it is, and it did its job, but there's still so much left to do when it comes to Shiki and the relationship