#despite my heart rate being a bit too high

[beesinspades]

very happy to be a little over two months on T but boi despite no changes the hormonal mess it's causing has been taking me on a RIDE and next time is my first shot by myself i totally expect to either chicken out or suck it up and feel sick af afterwards

[oddinary4bts]

To Give a Helping Hand | jjk (ch 2)

☆summary: when Jungkook finally approaches you at the gym, he realizes you've been wanting him just as badly as he's been wanting you.

☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: smut, idol!au

☆warnings: unedited, curses, explicit content: mentions of hard drugs (in a metaphor, no character does hard drugs), jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), fantasies about female oral sex (face riding), ball fondling, a tiny bit of marking, exhibitionism (they are in a car?), deep throating ish?, mouth fucking

☆word count: 3.1k

☆a/n: pure unedited sins again bc you guys asked for it and I am far too horny for mr jeon jungkook (thank you, calvin klein). I also wrote this when I was severely depressed and in need of a distraction so my bad if it sucks haha

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook watches himself in the mirror. His hair clings to the sweat on his forehead as he curls his arms, the strain enough to make him wince. Yet he pushes through, finishes the motion and then goes for another one.

He always trains until failure. Because it’s the best way to grow muscle, yes, but also because he likes the pain of it. Likes the burn, likes to put his body through the worst.

He knows he can take it.

It helps that you’re just a few benches away, doing some Bulgarian split squats. Twenty-five-pound dumbbells in each hand, you’ve been going for twelve reps each time, your focus unfaltering as you stare at a spot on the floor in front of you.

Jungkook wishes you’d look at him.

His next bicep curl ends on failure, and he winces as he lets go of the weights, putting them down on each side of the bench. He grabs his water bottle, taking a long swig of it as he looks at your reflection in the mirror.

You’ve got perfect form, your strong thighs pushing up on what he thinks is your fifth – sixth? – rep on your right leg. Your muscles shift under your skin as you move, and Jungkook forces himself to look away.

He doesn’t want to end up with a boner like he did last time. He’s been ashamed of himself somehow, and he doesn’t want to repeat it.

But it’s like you’re keen on teasing him. On being a walking nightmare, with those same devilish biker shorts that fried his brain that time. He’d told himself that he’d approach you, but so far he hasn’t been successful.

Indeed, you’ve suddenly decided to start coming to the gym with a friend, and though your friend is cute, with dark skin that hints at a perfect skincare routine, Jungkook doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you.

But yes, you’re keen on teasing him, doing squats next to him after he’s moved to do shoulder press on the machine. Indeed, despite all the squat racks being empty in the gym right now, you choose  the one right in front of Jungkook, and it’s a battle of will to refrain from looking at your ass each time you’re bending down.

So Jungkook looks up to the ceiling, pushes up, and he clenches his jaw at the strain in his shoulders. It’s a good burn, one he knows will leave him sore, but it’s also one that leaves him thirsty when he finishes his reps. Unfortunately, his water bottle is empty, so he walks to the water station, the music in his earbuds loud.

He’s almost done refilling his bottle when you come up behind him, with your own water bottle in hand. He feels your eyes on his profile and, heart suddenly racing, Jungkook meets your gaze.

You already have a small, knowing smile on your lips when his eyes find yours. Beautiful as ever with your high ponytail, Jungkook finds he gets lost in your gaze, unable to find the exit.

It comes to him when the water in his bottle overflows and he makes a mess on the floor. You chuckle and, despite his cheeks burning, Jungkook faces you fully.

“You come here often?” he asks over the sound of his earbuds, and he quickly takes one out.

If you’re surprised that he’s speaking to you, you don’t let it show. Instead, you raise your water bottle, motioning towards the water station. “Just a couple of times per workout.”

Jungkook feels like an idiot, yet he steps aside to let you fill up your bottle. He doesn’t walk away though, just watches you, and damn if you aren’t even more beautiful from so close.

It isn’t fucking fair.

“I’ve noticed we often come here at the same time,” Jungkook says, scrambling to find something to talk to you about.

You offer him a corner smile as you finish filling up your bottle, twisting the cap back on. “We do.”

He purses his lips, wondering if you can hear the thunder in his chest, and then he says, “I’m Jungkook.”

Your eyes twinkle with mischief, and he wants to curse himself because obviously you know who he is. But you surprise him, replying with your name and a polite bow of your head, and immediately mirrors the motion.

Then he says your name, and he has a feeling it’ll become his favourite word to moan whenever he comes. It’s inevitable – the lust he has for you is clouding his vision even now, as if the rest of the gym is fading out of focus. You don’t disappoint, holding his gaze, lips slightly parted as if you, too, are imagining what it’d be like to be together.

To tangle in bed together, up until the rest of the world cease to exist.

Is it stupid that Jungkook asks for your number next? He doesn’t think so. Especially not as you oblige, putting it into his phone. It feels like a victory – a huge one, one he knows he’ll celebrate in an entirely not appropriate way, yet he can’t stop himself from smiling to you.

It’s like you’ve given him strength to finish his workout grandly. Indeed, he maxes his PR on his next two exercises, and he leaves the gym with a comfortable soreness in his arms and shoulders, right after he’s taken a quick shower.

To his surprise, you’re standing outside, near the building in the dim light of dusk, eyes glued to your phone when he steps out of the gym.

“Need a lift?” he can’t help but ask.

You startle and he does feel bad, up until your features break into a smile that makes his heart race in his chest. “Just waiting for the bus,” you say.

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, surprised that you can afford this gym yet use public transport. He wonders, are you the kind of girl who cares about the environment to the point that you decided not to get a car? Something about the thought is adorable, and Jungkook toys with his lip piercings for a few seconds.

“I mean, I really don’t mind lifting you if you need to,” he repeats, hoping with everything in his soul that you’ll say yes.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you insist, scrunching up your nose cutely. “But thanks for offering.”

He takes a few steps towards you so that you don’t have to speak so loud anymore, desperately looking for something else to say. “Where’s your friend?” he asks, thinking he’s a genius for asking.

“Sera?” you answer, as if he has any clue what your friend is called. “Oh, her boyfriend picked her up earlier.”

“He didn’t offer to drive you?” Jungkook says, not bothering to hide the condescendence in his tone.

You wince. “I fear that’s too much to ask of Yeonseok.”

“Then I really must drive you home,” Jungkook insists, offering you the sweetest smile he can convey.

“And what, find out where I live before you’ve even taken me out on a date?”

It’s like the world stops turning, and all Jungkook can see is you, and that twinkle of mischief lighting your gaze.

“You want me to take you out on a date?” he asks, fully aware of that bright pink Kooky plushie swinging from your keychain right now.

“Who wouldn’t?” you tease.

He narrows his gaze, yet can’t help but play along with you.

He’s been going insane for this moment for weeks after all.

“Then let’s say this is our first date,” he says. “We can drive around and if you like it, I’ll drop you at home, if you don’t I’ll drop you somewhere else. Deal?”

You smile, genuine, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Deal.”

And that’s how Jungkook finds himself in his car with you seated next to him, your head bobbing along to the music on the radio. Though you’re quick to turn towards him, your gaze burning on his profile.

“How long have you wanted to talk to me?”

Jungkook chokes on his saliva, and he coughs as he glances at you, the tip of his ears reddening. “What?”

“You think I haven’t noticed you staring at me every time we work out at the same time?” you tease, and you laugh as he shrugs his shoulders.

“You’ve been putting on a show, it’s not my fault.”

“I have?”

He lets out a non-committal sound that makes you laugh, a crystalline laugh that sounds like he’ll get addicted to it far too easily. Like heroin – one hit and he’s a goner.

As you laugh, you rest your hand on his thigh, giving it a quick, playful squeeze.

Insane. He’s fucking insane for you.

“Listen,” you say after a tense silence with your hand on his thigh. “I really am not looking for a relationship right now.”

He hears the underlying truth – you wouldn’t date an idol. He doesn’t blame you.

It’s not like he plans on ever dating you anyway.

“But if you want some fun, then I’m all in.”

His throat feels dry, and Jungkook wets his lips, glancing at you quickly. The mischief has shifted into pure lust, something he wasn’t expecting he’d see right away.

Hell, he’d imagined he’d have to work for it. But you’re offering yourself on a silver platter, and he’d be fucking dumb to let the opportunity slip away.

“You aren’t what I expected,” he says.

No, you are ten times better.

You run your hand up and down his thigh, head tilted to the side as you look at him. It’s hard to focus on the street in front of him, especially as his dick already starts getting hard.

“I hope that’s a good thing,” you let out on a low, breathy tone that makes him truly lose touch with sanity.

“Have you ever seen the city from the mountains?” he asks seemingly out of the blue.

You pout, glancing towards those you can see in the distance. “On hikes, yeah I have. Why?”

“I know a spot.”

He doesn’t actually, but he ends up finding one anyway after you’ve driven around for a little while. Though you can’t see most of the city from here, it’s still beautiful, twinkling lights looking back at you down in the city.

You admire the view, and Jungkook gets lost admiring you. Your profile is delicate, your hair still just as fluffy and unruly around your head. He instinctively pushes a strand behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek as you meet his gaze.

The car fills with electricity, with an intensity that cannot be ignored, and Jungkook dives in, pressing his mouth on yours. You immediately kiss him back, your hand finding his thigh again, and Jungkook pushes his tongue in your mouth, lapping you up, making the kiss far too languid for his own good.

You let out a breathy sound that makes him see stars, and when your hand shifts closer to his dick, he feels all his blood rushing down. His own hand finds the back of your head, and he tilts his to the side to deepen the kiss, right as he softly grunts.

You’re a good kisser. All lips and tongue, and Jungkook wants to pull you on his lap, to keep on kissing you all night long, but it seems you’ve got other plans in mind. Indeed, you pull away from the kiss, leaving him breathing raggedly as he looks at you quizzically, but then you’re quickly pulling your hair back into a ponytail.

His heartrate skyrockets as he understands what will happen next. It’s like he’s stuck in one of his deepest, darkest fantasies, and you’re jumping right in with him.

You truly are devilish, aren’t you?

When your hair is safely tucked in a ponytail, you meet Jungkook’s gaze. Your eyes shine with undiluted lust, and it steals the breath from his lungs.

To be the receiver of such desire…

He’s going to come far too quickly, isn’t he?

You pat his thigh again, leaning in for another kiss. Jungkook immediately obliges, colliding his mouth with the softness of yours. You palm him through his pants the second he pushes his tongue between your lips again, and Jungkook grunts as he instinctively bucks his hips, seeking for more friction.

“You’re a little impatient,” you say as you pull away, and you glance down at where you’re touching him. “Maybe we should get you out of your pants.”

It doesn’t take more than that to convince Jungkook to push his pants down, and he’s soon sitting there, his dick out in his car as if someone can’t just pull up and see.

Yet the thought turns him on, and Jungkook is infinitely thankful that he took a quick shower at the gym when you grab the base of his dick, jerking him off once.

“You’re so big,” you breathe.

All he can do is grunt as you stroke him again, your grip firm. It feels even better than he imagined. Like heaven – your hand fits perfectly around him, and you expertly flick your wrist whenever you near the top.

All that’s missing is lube, but you’re quick to bend down, blowing a breath on the sensitive tip of his dick.

“Shit,” Jungkook lets out.

“You often get sucked in your car?” you ask like the brat you are.

He can’t reply. Not when you wrap your lips around his tip, and he thinks he’s floating out of his body. Your mouth is wet, warm and so, so soft around him he thinks he might just come already.

“No,” he chokes out as you swirl your tongue around him before pushing down on him, up until he hits the back of your throat.

It takes everything in Jungkook not to buck his hips and fuck your mouth. But he wants to be nice, wants to play nice, if only so that he won’t scare you.

He doesn’t want to lose you before he’s even had you.

He reclines his seat, allowing you a better access, and you reward him with a small moan as you can take more of him in, and it’s enough to make his mind spin with addictive bliss.

You pull away, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his dick. “Good boy.”

That’s it. He’s a goner. Especially when you truly get to work, offering him the perfect combination of sucking and tongue, of your hand jerking him off in time with the bobbing of your head. He keeps his moans low, more grunts than anything, but when you moan as he hits the back of your throat, Jungkook curses loudly.

“You like this?” you tease, blinking away tears from the gag reflex you’ve been holding in.

“Holy fuck,” he answers, and you laugh lightly before taking him in your mouth once more.

You’re drooling all over him, sucking his soul out of his body, and Jungkook feels his balls tightening.

Already.

“Wait,” he lets out, and you pull away, breathing heavily as you meet his gaze.

“Uh?”

He wipes the drool on your lips, and you immediately suck on his thumb, tongue teasing the pad of the finger. You’re going to fry his brain before the end of the night, aren’t you?

“If you keep sucking me like this I’ll come.”

You smirk, downright lustful. “Isn’t that the point?”

“I want to fuck you,” he says, and he hates that he sounds so pouty, but he can’t help it.

He wants to live every single one of his dirty fantasies with you, after all.

“And I want to know what your cum tastes like,” you counter, squeezing his dick hard.

Jungkook moans, his eyes fluttering shut, his defiance fully leaving him now. If you want him to come in your mouth, then he’ll happily oblige. And then you’re bending down, going back to work as he murmurs your name.

You’re better than he imagined, so much better, and his dick twitches in your mouth as you moan. He feels the vibrations all along his shaft, and he grabs your ponytail, increasing your rhythm. Pushing your head down on him so that you take more of him, and when you don’t complain, instead moaning again, Jungkook stops holding himself back.

He fucks up in your mouth, and your hand flies to his thigh, your nails digging in his skin. The slight pain sets his nerves alight with desire, and he loses himself in you, in the rocking of his hips as he snaps them up in your mouth.

You take him in, holding the gag reflex in, moaning as he establishes a quick rhythm to chase his orgasm. He thinks he’s in love with your mouth – you’re so good, too good to him. He highly doubts he deserves it.

Not when he hasn’t given you anything in return. And he wants to taste you, wants you to sit on his face until he can’t breathe anymore and he gets drunk to the taste of you. It’s that image that brings him closer to his high, so close he already buzzes with it.

You push him over the edge when you grab his balls, gently squeezing. He moans out your name as he comes, unloading his cum deep in your throat as you take over, bobbing your head up and down slowly to milk his orgasm.

And you do milk his orgasm. You fucking do – he’s truly, fully swimming in bliss by the time his dick stops twitching, his balls fully emptied.

You pull away from him, and he thinks he loves your mouth even more when you push your tongue out to show that you swallowed everything. It’s so hot he’d fool himself into going for another round, but the hour is getting late, and he’s got an early morning tomorrow.

“Holy shit,” he lets out.

You laugh, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “That felt good?”

“Fuck, yeah it did.”

You smirk, tilting your head to the side. “Happy to oblige.”

“I’ll have to repay the favour to you one of these days,” Jungkook says, and he hopes you don’t hear the underlying hope in his tone.

He doesn’t want you to think he’s been dreaming about you, about your body for so long.

You wet your lips. “Your place this weekend?”

And though maybe he should say no, as you’re the fan and he the idol, Jungkook answers with, “Bring a bottle of wine.”

Prev | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Yeah this is pure sin. Porn with practically no plot hahah did we like it? Let me know what you thought!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (P. 7)

Lucifer/Reader: You’ve been chosen to be the Mother of the Antichrist. Rated E.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

Your sleep had become fitful with dreams that, while not full of violence, left you waking in a cold sweat most mornings. You couldn’t remember most of what happened aside from a parade of images and feelings of discomfort. Sometimes, downright fear. 

The blonde woman was still the star, but you couldn’t remember a word she’d say. The sight of her frowning at two men replayed in your head between sleeping and waking. She frowned at you with dewy wide eyes. 

The woman held her arms out to you: beseeching, sheltering, hurriedly hiding but you were able to escape the gaze of one of the men. 

Fear had spirited you away from unconsciousness when the man’s brown eyes sparked into an unnatural gold. They heated with anger at the mere sight of you. 

—

The only equivalent you could come up with for how you awoke was being jump-started like a car. It took a solid moment of gulping in air and eyeing your surroundings before you could calm the beat of your heart.

“Lucifer?”

It took too much energy to turn and look for him, but you saw that the sheets beside you were disturbed, but duck-less. 

You were overly warm, hopelessly reaching out to run your hand down the opposite side of the bed despite what your eyes told you. 

For a while there was nothing to do but lay in the silence of your darkened room. Eventually your hand drifted into your belly. 

It had become a reflex to pet your own tummy, to feel the bump that had formed there, as small as it was. 

—

You faced forward, looking directly at the screen of your TV without really seeing it. Beside you, Lucifer giggled at whatever was happening between Kermit and Gonzo onscreen. 

His bare hand was latched onto yours, fingers entwined, claws digging into your skin just enough to hurt. Not a lot, just a little bit. Strangely, the discomfort kept you grounded and away from the outlandish yet very real fear that you’d float away without it. 

‘Is it dissociating or disassociation?’

You’d gone long enough with it happening multiple times now but you couldn’t even remember what it was called.

You were pregnant. 

Well, you’d been pregnant for about a month and a half. And your partner in crime had been excited. So excited he’d literally exclaimed ‘oh my golly’ at the news. 

Then he’d had a panic attack, complete with big yet shallow gasps for air and arm flailing, hands flapping, short legs in knee-high boots pacing a hole into your carpet.

You were somewhat grateful for his outburst, if only because taking the steps to placate him was placating unto itself. 

— 

The memory made you smile weakly. A memory that seemed so long ago, even if it had technically happened only a few months prior. 

Everything that had happened afterward had made it seem rosier than it should’ve been. Before things soured so thoroughly that you could barely get out of bed. 

Now, you were exhausted day and night, plagued by not-quite-nightmares during your hibernation-like snoozes, and — when awake — eaten at by fears and doubts. 

You’d never thought seriously about having children. 

There was this permanent barrier to the very idea that lingered in the back of your mind. You don’t know when it formed, or if it was merely a protective mechanism of some kind (God knew you had plenty of those already). Nonetheless, you’d stuck to it, never straying… until now. 

You weren’t the motherly type. And technically you weren’t going to be. As much as Lucifer mooned over you, whether for his own entertainment or because he was genuinely fond of your stupid sarcastic comments and bouts of literary trivia, you would not allow yourself to trust him completely. You had no compunctions about raising the Antichrist once you had fulfilled your end of the deal. 

So you told yourself. Especially when you cycled through detachment and guilt about the creature growing in your womb. Especially when Lucifer was curled up with you, basking in your warmth and bringing you little trinkets and laughing with you at whatever was on TV. Especially when he dropped everything to lay down with you in your sickness, and did anything he could to make you smile, be it with magic tricks or stories from lifetimes ago.

Last night he’d held your hair as you threw up, courtesy of the raw beef you’d craved (thank you, you freaky little fetus). Then he entertained you by shape-shifting into cute animals until you’d cuddled up with his duck self and fallen asleep.

The little slope of your stomach quivered with the rest of your body. You felt the sudden urge to cry. 

—

“Lucifer?”

You braced yourself against the wall to get out of your bedroom. Standing was enough to make you dizzy, skin growing clammy and perspiring while you struggled to move. You were winded after five steps through your rather small apartment. 

Your curiosity was the only thing keeping you going after hearing a series of beeps from outside your door. 

“Aw, shit. Shit, shit, shit! Hold on!”  Lucifer called from a few feet away. 

He was here, in your apartment, more often than not. As a matter of fact, you had the feeling that if you didn’t push him to return to his duties, Lucifer would’ve been with you 24/7. 

Speaking of, he appeared from around the corner just as you buckled and slid against the wall. 

The Devil sprang forward, arms out and ready to catch you. Had you been more yourself, you’d have laughed at the absurdity as most of your weight sagged against its surface and he’d more or less landed on top of you from the side. 

“I’m so so sorry!” He cried, jerking away when you winced. 

“Sorry.” He whispered loudly. “I got your tea and I was trying to make it without waking you but the darn thing wouldn’t stop beeping.” 

“Cassie was here?” You let yourself sway to Lucifer’s side instead of the walls. He was practically carrying you into the living room. 

Unnames illness aside, you found an additional slight against your existence that you still had to keep in contact with your weirdo neighbors. They were both their own flavors of bizarre, but Cassie in particular was extroverted and nosy. 

She brought you tea from her kitchen garden — 

“Just bits and bobs from my little spice garden, things I’ve been growing ‘round the house. Pretty basic stuff: you got your chamomile, mint, there’s rosemary in there too, some cinnamon, ya know.” 

— and wanted to brew it for you while having chats at your kitchen table almost every day. 

Even Lucifer was annoyed by her persistence. 

“Here as in ‘at the door’ but not inside. She actually got it through that thick skull that I didn’t want you to be disturbed.” Lucifer said, equal parts irritated and triumphant. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “Thanks.” 

Your eyes closed to avoid the sudden onslaught of more tears when your companion tensed. He stopped short of the couch to relish in the contact. His wistful sigh made your heart throb painfully as you wondered for the umpteenth time how the fucking King of Hell could be so effortlessly sweet. 

‘Just to make pulling out the rug from under you later a bigger betrayal.’

The intrusive thought brought more tears, from eyes screwed up as you wished it away. 

“… can’t make tea as a duck.” Lucifer had carried on while gently lowering you on the cushions. “I did try though, to be fair.” 

He had yet to notice your tears, but your laugh was wet. “I’m sorry I missed that.”

It was sudden when cold hands cupped your face and turned your gaze up. You were met with deeply worried crimson eyes. 

The cold was so nice that you had to snuggle into that touch. “It’s ok.” 

Lucifer’s maw opened and closed a few times, helplessly. 

“Do—uh… do you want me to do that? I can try it again!” He jumped back, getting ready to shift in a puff of fireworks. 

“No, come sit with me.” You held up a shaking hand, trying to ignore your own ashen skin. 

The blond hesitated. 

“Please, Lou.” 

—

Lucifer melted at your request. He came to you immediately and took great care as he rearranged your frail body against his own. 

He was grateful that he’d thrown on his velvet robe that morning twicefold now — once to avoid his elderly worshipper seeing his dick, and twice to be able to pull it to the side so that you could lay your forehead against his cold chest.

The King’s skin would warm up with time and human contact, but he knew that his natural icy exterior did wonders to help your over-warm skin. 

Lucifer fought to not chuckle at the ticklish feeling of your hair against his neck. You laid there against him for a long time, breathing lightly and letting him hold you close. The silence was easy for once, not awkward or uncomfortable. Just one person relying on another for quiet solace.

When you finally spoke, it nearly scared him. “What’s it like? In Hell?” 

“Wh-why’re you asking?” Lucifer tried to play it cool. “That’s not really a fun o-oo-r relaxing…!… topic.” 

“Mmm,” Your head slowly lifted until he count easily count your individual eyelashes. 

“I don’t know if you know this, but there’s a little guy in here.” You pointed between yourself and him, to the little slope of your stomach. “And they're gonna call Hell their home soon. It might be good to know what that’s like before I ship them off.” 

“Oh!” Well, that was easier. “It’s uh, it’s red… and warm.” Lucifer wracked his brain. “Well, my Ring is. See, there are 7 Rings total, and technically I rule them all, but my brothers each kinda made their own homes out of them.” 

“Mine though — mine is full of Sinners, which is what we call the humans that died and were condemned to it. They’re all kinda packed in there, heh. Like, uh, tiny fish. That reek.” 

Your lips pursed. “But no one is burning in molten lava at all times or anything, right?”

“No-oo! Well, I mean it’s not impossible. But it’s not the norm. Nah, people go about their way like they do up here, but even more selfishly and violently.” 

Lucifer smiled at your frowning face. 

“It’s like on Earth? So people work, sleep, eat?”

“Yep!”

“They pay bills? Go to parties? Fuck?” Your brows were nearly to your hairline.

“Mmmm-hm!” 

“And they do it for all of eternity? Forever?”

“Pretty much! In a nutshell…” Was his jolly reply. He squeezed you to him for extra measure.

It was your turn to look flummoxed by the picture he painted, the words he spoke that sounded both improbable and spot on for what Hell would be if it was real. 

Well, not if. 

At last, you sighed. 

“I guess it couldn’t have been all that bad if… if you’ve been there for so long and you’re still so sweet.” Your words were barely audible, muttered into Lucifer’s chest when you gave up on making sense of anything.

But the Ruler of Hell had to stop the last-minute ejection of his own wings at your words.

***

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan,

Please let me know I missed tagging you!

[laurfilijames]

Bulletproof

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Mentions of being shot through a bulletproof vest. Bruises and welts. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: After a close call in a gunfight, Jax turns to you to remind him of all the things in life worth living for.

A/N: I'm sorry I couldn't help it. This is a teeny bit angsty and full of feelings. I needed to write something "short and sweet" (it's neither of those 🤣) to get my writing back on track, and well, here's this... enjoy!!

---

The buzz of your phone that sat on the nightstand beside your head woke you from a decent sleep, taking you a few minutes to register it was happening for real and not in a dream, a soft moan passing your lips as you reached over for it and hit the button to accept the call.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice groggy and unable to disguise your sleep, your eyes too heavy and blurred to have read on the screen who was on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me,” Jax’s voice registered in your ear, making you become a little more alert and sit up while running your hand over your hair.

“I’m on my way over,” he explained, his tone short and wired, like he was on edge or adrenaline was pumping through him.

Glancing over at the alarm clock, you simply agreed, not asking any questions, knowing if he was calling you and needing to see you at this hour that something more than just sex was on his mind.

The roar of his Harley came through before he hung up, and flinging the covers off while swinging your legs to the side of the bed, you did the same.

You walked through to the front door, wearing only his Reaper t-shirt that had become your nightly staple, flicking the bolt to unlock it as you leaned against the frame, peeling back the curtain that covered the small window to look out onto the dark street as if he would be rolling in any second despite him having just left to get there.

Letting your eyelids close, you continued to lean, wrapping your arms around yourself to try to keep some of the lingering warmth from your bed on your skin, partly hoping that Jax would be tired and ready for sleep when he arrived.

The familiar rumble of his engine sounded in the distance and grew louder with each second, and an automatic smile tugged at your lips, your heart picking up pace just as his motorcycle did to quicker close the gap between him and you.

You watched through the window, your fingers toying with the thin fabric as you held the curtain aside, seeing him roughly push down the kickstand with his white sneakers before quickly standing up and dismounting his bike, unfastening his helmet at the same time.

The way he was rushing made your pulse hammer, his deliberate strides a clear display of his desperation, and you opened the door for him before he blew through it and knocked it off its hinges, his expression a mix of frenzy and relief as his blue eyes landed on you.

Gloved hands gripped your cheeks roughly, pulling you into him equally as much as he pressed himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss so hard it stole your breath.

A slightly surprised gasp blew out of your mouth when he parted from you and gave you an opportunity to get air back into your lungs, your eyes searching his features with concern as you took in the sweat clinging to his reddened cheeks, his hair damp and darkened.

His chest rose and fell sharply, and tearing off his gloves, he raked his long fingers that held a home for his chunky rings through his messy tresses, exhaling a shaky breath as he looked down at the floor and then back up at you.

“Jax, what happened?”

He shook his head and chuckled falsely, pulling his bottom lip in his teeth before looking at you with what he must have thought was a convincing expression.

“I’m fine.”

His eyebrows sat high on his forehead and brought out the creases on it as he stared at you, and when you held his gaze almost challengingly, he blinked away the moisture that you caught building up in them and moved into you again, his sigh emptying out into your mouth as he kissed you slower this time, but with equal passion.

Your hands slipped up beneath his kutte, the heat of his skin pouring off of him as you rubbed his back in soothing motions, the act comforting yourself as much as it was him.

The familiar taste and smell of smoke assaulted your nose and transferred onto your tongue, knowing whatever stress he was under right now had caused him to light up one cigarette after the other to try to settle his nerves.

As your kiss faded out, Jax rubbed his nose against the side of yours, his breath hot on your cheek, the stickiness of his skin transferring onto yours.

He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing for a moment while he let his hands roam up over your bum and onto the small of your back, bringing your body even closer to his.

Swaying slightly on the spot, he nuzzled his face into yours even more, a moment of softness before he met your lips again, claiming you in another kiss that started slow and quickly increased in fervor.

His breathing became laboured, struggling to draw in enough air as he kissed you harder and with more desperation, his hands gripping at your flesh beneath his worn shirt.

You could feel his hard cock pressing into you as it strained against his jeans, making you rub yourself on it a couple of times with a teasing grind of your hips, your fingers moving down his stomach to work at the button and zipper while he shrugged out of his kutte.

It landed carelessly on the floor beside you, and you couldn’t mistake the slight wince on his face before it disappeared in his hoodie as he lifted his arms and pulled it over his head, immediately moving back to capture your lips again.

He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans, walking forward to force you back and further into your house, your hand rubbing him through his boxers before diving inside the waistband to take hold of his cock, stroking the hot, velvety skin of his length that made you moan into his mouth and him push harder on yours.

Both of you blindly made your way toward your bedroom, only pausing your kisses briefly to peel the white t-shirt that clung to his body off of him, your breath knocking out of you as he slammed you against the wall and began lifting the hem of the shirt still covering your body.

Once your naked form was available to him, he trailed his lips down your neck and along your collarbone while his hands smoothed all along your waist, one moving to your breasts where his fingers plucked one of your peaked nipples, the other traveling downward to slip between your legs.

“Jax…” you breathed, your tone needy and filled with lust, the sensation of his fingers entering and withdrawing from your slick hole making your eyes close and your head knock back on the drywall.

After losing yourself in ecstasy for a couple of minutes, you refocused, needing him more than ever, your thumbs hooking in the band of his boxers to tear them down his legs.

Jax took your hand and turned to lead you the short distance to your room, giving you a view of his back where your eyes were drawn to different spots of dark colouring that weren’t part of the ones that made up the large tattoo that covered almost all of it.

Peppered between the image of the Reaper and letters that spelled out ‘California’ were round bruises, his skin raised with welts, and your heart sank in realization of what had caused them; the impact of the bullets that had hit him unable to be disguised even with the protection of kevlar.

You instinctively reached out to lightly trace each one, counting three in total, a mix of emotions rushing through you that were half grateful and half terrified.

“I’m fine.” He repeated the same lie as before, glancing back at you as he paused in his steps and turned to face you.

You dove into him, wrapping your shaky arms around him to hug him so tight you didn’t care if it hurt, feeling his arms encase you in return and his lips press multiple times on the top of your head.

A sourness crept up your restricted throat, your guts twisting almost painfully at the thought of one of those bullets striking a place the bulletproof vest hadn’t been covering, and you frantically began kissing him everywhere you could reach, starting on his chest and making your way up his neck, your hands moving to cup his cheeks where your thumbs smoothed back and forth on his blond scruff. Your lips met again, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as you transferred all your worry and grief into a display of love, his cock nudging at your core to remind you of what it was he needed right now.

The oncoming tears stung when you squeezed your eyelids together tightly, one slipping out and down your cheek as you retrained your focus on the feel of his tongue tangling with yours instead, the simplicity of needing to just be with him beginning to outweigh anything else.

You finally made it into your room, sitting on the bed and scooching yourself back to lay down with spread legs as he settled between them and sank overtop of you, continuing to kiss you with as much ardor that the skin around your mouth was already beginning to feel raw.

His knee pressed up on your thigh to guide it higher, spreading you out further as he covered your body completely with his, his fingers running along your scalp to send shivers across your skin.

You adjusted your hips, angling yourself to allow for his leaking head to push through your folds, lingering with just the tip of him inside you that somehow already made you feel full.

The skin on his back was tacky as you ran your hands gently up and down it, feeling his muscles flex as he began to move against you, his cock stretching you out inch by inch as he slowly pushed all the way in.

It was ironic; catching glimpses of the silver shell casing that hung from the chain around his neck in the light shining in through the window as it wagged and glided along your chest, filling the space between your hearts that hammered furiously and proved his vitality as if it hadn’t been threatened.

As soon as Jax had pulled into your driveway he felt better, the need to see you and be with you at the forefront of his mind, having bolted out of the clubhouse the minute he had changed out of his tac vest and clothes that were sprayed with holes from the gunshots he could still hear going off in his head.

Now that he had felt your lips against his and the softness of your skin beneath his palms, he was filled with an appreciation for you that he knew he took for granted too many times before, the relief he felt at being with someone who made him feel alive after a close call with death sobering him in a harsh bite of reality.

The way you made him feel was undeniable, giving him a vigor that was too often misplaced and diluted even though you showed him a brighter side to all the darkness that surrounded him, his lack of commitment to anyone but his club wrongly applicable even to you.

He thrusted harder into you, deepening his strokes as he peeled his mouth from yours to watch his cock pump in and out of you, the sound of your pleasure coming out in beautiful whimpers and soft moans while requesting more from him reiterating every reason why he came here tonight in the first place.

Jax dove against your lips again, needing to kiss you in order to stop himself from saying things that he feared may only be a result of how fucking scared he had been earlier, but deep down knowing the words that portrayed how he felt weren’t coming from a place of fear.

It felt different. Crazed and desperate and meaningful, the way he fucked you hinting at something more intent and unwavering than usual.

Sex with Jax was always mind-numbing and intense, but you never let yourself get too far into things knowing he could be gone before you even woke the next day and carrying on without thinking twice about it meaning anything more, his nonchalance always reminding you to take nothing from it other than pleasure.

Gone.

The potency of that little word had your eyes burning again, burrowing an emptiness in your chest that ached to be filled by anything he was generous enough to give.

There were never any labels put on what you were to each other or what this was, but the possibility of losing him at any moment made you desperate to show him what he meant to you, your fingers digging into the flesh on his upper arms so hard as if adding marks of your own on his body would make him stay with you forever.

You reached your face upward to press harder against his mouth, happy when he reciprocated and drove his tongue deeper inside yours, the long, rolling motions of his hips continuing, only now with more calculated force.

Heat bubbled within you, building up into that familiar tingle that taunted to be chased, every nerve in you warning of what drew nearer with each pump and drag of his long cock in and out of you.

The way his hands roamed your body in a calm, but needy way had your mind spinning, like the more he touched you the more it grounded and convinced him that he was still here to enjoy something this good; the gravity of today in no hurry to lose its effectiveness.

Jax paused for a moment, rubbing his hand over your forehead as he searched your eyes for permission or assurance or something more that scared even you, the sound of your panting breaths the only thing audible in the dark quiet of your room. He dipped down to brush your lips again, his scruff holding onto the sweat that had effectively coated every part of his body, lightly teasing with a softer kiss before resuming the purposeful tempo of his hips, the silence between you able to voice that you were both ready to find your high together.

Letting your bodies say what your words couldn't, you met his pace, grinding and rolling deliberately in time with him, the need to help him find his release with the use of your body seeming more important tonight than it ever had.

Jax gripped your face tightly, his fingers squeezing your jawline in an almost frantic way, groaning into your mouth desperately as a signal of his climax.

His thrusts never faltered, continuing to pound you while his hot cum filled you up in aggressive spurts, throwing you into your own orgasm as your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs on his groin. The feel of his cock sliding his thick seed in and out of you drew out your high, prolonging every blissful spark and shudder that tore through your body, the way his sweaty form laid heavily on top of yours a necessary weight that helped you stay rooted in the moment.

He remained buried inside you while you kissed, catching your breaths by sharing each other’s until he slipped from between your legs and crashed onto the covers beside you, his arm falling over his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

Despite having just been as close to him as you possibly could be, you felt a vacancy and longing for him, glancing over at him where you watched him close his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly as he drew in sharp breaths.

His necklace fell to the side from where it rested on his pec, hanging in his armpit as he continued to breathe, and you carefully picked it up between your fingers, the silver cold against them and a stark contrast to the heat that radiated off his body.

Even though his eyes remained closed, you couldn’t mistake the pained look on his face, a sort of fear and vulnerability that was rare to see on his features, his mortality shattering the usual invincibility that was layered on falsely by his cockiness.

Your chest felt tight, watching him let everything the adrenaline had prevented him from feeling earlier course through him, and you leaned over and traced your fingertips along the creases beside his mouth before pressing your lips to his, relieved when he didn’t hesitate to kiss you back.

His arms came down to wrap around you, pulling your body to rest more on top of his, his hands carding over your back in a comfortable, soothing way.

You couldn’t recount the times sex with Jax had turned into a quick goodbye between smiling kisses and promises to see each other soon only to have days turn into weeks, convincing yourself and him that this was nothing more than a casual, fun fuck, having to disguise the way your heart ached for him and how many butterflies erupted at the mention of his name alone.

None of that mattered tonight, no longer caring if you let your cards show, the severity of tonight outweighing any need to try to stifle your feelings or bother denying that you felt more for him than you ever intended to let happen.

Jax remained pensive and quiet, his boisterous self clouded by his brush with a graver fate, but with the occasional kiss to the top of your head and the way his heartbeat had steadied in your ear, you knew he was comforted in your embrace.

As you laid entwined in your sheets, your leg hooked over his waist while he held your hand and played with your fingers, interlacing them and listlessly running them through his, you thought how you would never be able to control or guarantee if he would be yours to love forever, the way he lived his reckless life a threat to any sort of assurance.

A soft smile tugged at your lips when Jax shifted slightly lower on the bed to line up your face with his, kissing you slowly and clutching your hand in his where he brought it into his chest.

His nose rubbed against yours a couple of times before he settled his head on your pillow, a quiet hum sounding from his mouth, his blue eyes shining with a vitality and promise that for at least another day, he was yours.

---

Please consider reblogging and commenting if you enjoyed reading this story! 💗

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @rhoorl

[hawkinsbnbg]

top priority

Prompt: top | Word count: 510 | Rated: G | Tags: modern setting, light angst, fluff | @steddiemicrofic | ao3

Eddie’s career was doing great these days. People listened to his music, bought his albums, and recognized him on the streets.

Eddie Munson had become big.

Not over a fortnight, mind you, it was years of hard work, sleepless nights, and unyielding determination that got Eddie to where he was today.

And Steve was happy for him, willing to step back, to stay behind, to be a constant pillar so Eddie could spread his wings without worries.

Despite their relationship, he didn't expect Eddie to prioritize him over everything else.

(His parents had taught him the hard way how painful it was to hold his hope too high.)

He was content to be second, no, even third or fourth would be enough. And if it stung him to not be first on Eddie's list, then it was his own weight to bear.

Even when he hated sleeping alone on their bed, hated that Eddie's spot was often cold and empty most days, he never intended to burden Eddie with his problems.

Naturally, Steve omitted to mention that a small accident had landed him in the hospital on their nightly phone call.

When Eddie wondered why he sounded more tired than usual, he just threw some half-baked excuses and reassured Eddie that he was alright.

Since Eddie was on tours in Europe, the last thing he wanted was to be a distraction and ruin Eddie's performance.

Then again, he forgot to take Robin into account, because he should've known by now that Eddie’d bet on her to be the one informing him truthfully about Steve's well-being.

And here, sitting by his bedside, Eddie looked concerned and dead on his feet.

Judging by his disheveled appearance, anyone could tell that he had gone straight from the airport to the hospital without taking a break.

After helping Steve recline with some pillows, Eddie said nothing and just gazed at his cast with so much sadness that it pained Steve.

“C’mon, Eds,” he grabbed Eddie's hand to give the man a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not a big deal. I’m gonna be discharged soon anyway.”

“You fell from a ladder and broke your leg, baby,” Eddie brushed aside the stray hair on Steve's forehead. “That's a big deal to me.”

Shrugging, he shifted his gaze away to avoid those warm brown eyes. “Yeah, but your work is more important. I couldn't bring myself to… burden you.”

“No, I’ve told you this before and I’m telling you this now,” Eddie turned his face by his chin gently until their eyes met again. “You're never a burden, angel. You're my top priority. And nothing will ever keep me from running to you, okay?”

Steve nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. His lips might wobble a bit when he admitted quietly, “You're mine, too.”

Cradling his face, Eddie placed soft kisses on his forehead, his nose bridge, and his lips.

Then, Eddie stroked the apple of his cheek fondly.

“Lucky me.”

And Steve could hear his heart echo the same melody.

“Lucky us.”

Their love song.

[nikibogwater]

Everybody sit down and strap in, 'cause I have a doozy of a tale to share.

I've had anxiety for literally as long as I can remember. I've had periods of my life where it was so intense it became legitimately life-threatening (don't worry I promise this is going somewhere funny). And this was really bizarre because I have zero childhood trauma. Like, my family life is so idyllic it's almost comical. Therapists would do abuse screenings on me and look utterly baffled when I told them everything was fine at home. They'd interrogate my parents just to make sure I wasn't lying. I have one friend who I'm fairly sure believed I was just severely gaslighting myself when I said my family was great, school wasn't too stressful, and I've never lived in a dangerous neighborhood or experienced poverty.

Anyways, despite no one being able to figure out where my disorder was coming from, my doctors were able to help me manage the symptoms so that I would like, not die, and actually be able to finish high school. Which was awesome. Now fast forward to late 2021. My big sister (who has also had intense anxiety her whole life which no one could figure out why) is finishing up her doctorate and getting her physical therapist's license. Somehow, during all her studying and schooling, she finds out about this thing called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which explains literally everything that was going on with us. EDS is a connective tissue disorder that kinda fudges up your body in a whole bunch of little ways, including dysautonomia (episodes of very fast heart-rate that kick your body into fight-or-flight mode), and hypermobility (unusual flexibility). It's a spectrum disorder, so the severity of symptoms vary from person to person, but we definitely checked almost every box on the diagnostic list. My sister went to see a specialist, and yep, she was diagnosed EDS positive. She immediately calls my mom and goes "I know what's wrong with Niki" (thanks, sis, that's real encouraging lol). Initially we're like "okay Katie, that's nice" because honestly this kind of sounds like jumping at shadows, but I go in to see the specialist anyways just to make sure.

One consultation and diagnosis later, and suddenly my entire life makes perfect sense.

Now we get to the funny part. See, the diagnosis stuff happened in early 2022. So by the time late 2023 comes around and we're looking for a new dog (I promise this is relevant), we've been riding that chronic illness diagnosis for a while. Once again, my sister, ever the proactive one, decides she's going to help us get a new dog. She scours the adoption website, sends us photos of the cutest dogs available, and helps us make a decision. This is how we got Beverly, who has been an unstoppable force of chaos in our lives ever since we signed the papers (but she's also really cute so she can get away with it). Now on top of being a very excitable and anxious pupper, Beverly's got a weird little gimp in her hindquarters, which makes her sit all splayed-out and funny-looking, and while it doesn't seem to be causing her pain, we take her to a vet to get it checked out. Vet finds absolutely nothing. X-rays are taken and examined. Still nothing. At this point, they go "well, we could try a CT scan of her brain, which would run about $5,000, and maybe we could find something--" but my parents are already packing this dog into the car like "well that is a HARD nope." So we decide, look, Beverly seems happy and healthy, and those gimpy legs don't seem to bother her, so we'll just leave it be until it becomes clearer what's wrong with her because we do NOT have a cool $5,000 to throw around here.

Readers more astute than my family and I will likely have already figured out where this is going.

This morning, my mom is looking at Beverly sitting in her funny sprawled-out way, and something in her brain goes "wait...weird physical symptoms with no tracible cause that vets can see..." She does a bit of googling. Can dogs have EDS/Hypermobility? Yes. Yes they can. And the listed symptoms describe Beverly to a T.

So not only is my sister the one to finally figure out what's wrong with me, she also unknowingly got us a dog who has the exact same chronic condition as us. Meanwhile my poor dad, who is the only Normal Person in our house, is coming to terms with the fact that he is apparently just fated to always love chronically ill people and animals, and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.

[veltana]

Sell my soul - 1

✦ Pairing: Lloyd Hansen/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~1k

✦ Rating for this part: Mature

✦ Warnings/tags: Alpha!Lloyd, Omega!Reader, omega auction, slow burn, eventual smut, pet names (sugar plum).

✦ Summary: Lloyd buys you

✦ Note: Due note that this is a drabble series and the parts will be short, but I hope you like it any way! I started writing this because Lloyd was trying to hijack my brain and take over the Buy my heart series, so he got his own instead, and I'm gonna make him suffer 😈 Reblogs, comments and asks are much appreciated!

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

“This is bullshit,” you mutter as you pull on the sheer dress. It's basically see-through. Why can't you wear regular clothes? Isn't it embarrassing enough that you have to sell yourself, you have to be as close to naked as possible also?

But you do it anyway and don't say anything more. This is really your very last resort. Everything else you've tried so far has been a failure.

Panic starts to rise in your chest. What if he's out there? What if he buys you?

Then you realize that everyone sitting out there is an alpha and he wouldn't be allowed in. It calms your nerves a bit but you still glance around now and then as you wait for your turn. He's found you before. You're not safe anywhere.

“This is bullshit,” Lloyd growls as he adjusts the mask covering his face. He recognizes the scents of at least three alphas, despite being unable to see their faces. The masks aren't hiding shit. He knows they're more for the omegas on stage than for the alphas but so far the entire event has been a disappointment, and he regrets attending.

Instead, he studies the high ceiling and artwork on the walls, only glancing at the omegas appearing, one after another getting bought.

Just as he's about to up and leave the omega on stage catches his attention. Eyes that keep flickering and a stubborn mouth, but otherwise delectable! He raises his paddle before he even knows it. A few people bid too, but Lloyd is determined. His paddle is the last to go up.

The omega's mouth is a thin line. A smile cracks Lloyd's face below the mask as he rises and makes his way out to pick up his newly acquired omega.

“Be nice, be nice, be nice. Be nice to the alpha who bought you. You need his protection.” You remind yourself as you stand outside in your clothes after being shown out by the attendant. There isn't an alpha around and your eyes keep searching. You don't like to be out in the open like this but if you huddle against the wall he's probably going to think you're weird. Or you'd have to explain.

With a roar, a flashy sports car pulls up. The owner steps out and looks at you. He’s tall with neat hair slicked back, a mustache above his smile, eyes sparkling with glee. You look away, he obviously thinks you're a prostitute. It would be great if your fucking alpha could show up.

“Hey, get in!” The man calls. You glance at him before saying, “I'm waiting for someone.” “Yeah, me! Omega, get over here right now or I'll command you.”

You stare at him. He waves a piece of paper. “You're the alpha who bought me?” “Damn straight, sugar plum!” Sugar plum?! Your name is on the paper!

“Actually,” you begin but he interrupts you. “We can talk in the car, come on now!” Displeased, you walk over.

The inside looks barely used but it’s filled with his scent. It’s a delicious perfume that smells like the woods after it's rained, an earthy clean smell with an undertone of burnt sugar that makes you think of creme brulee. Saliva pools in your mouth and you ignore it.

Your new alpha, who still hasn't introduced himself, steps on the gas and the car shoots down the road. “Where are we going?” “To my place, it’s not far!” At the speed he's driving, you're downtown within minutes, too focused on holding on to ask any other questions. He doesn't offer any more answers, either. Soon, you lose track of where you are, finding yourself in an unfamiliar neighborhood. Elegant houses and high-rise buildings blend together unnaturally. He parks in an underground garage, and the elevator ascends to the tenth floor. Everything looks new and untouched almost. You've never been in such a place before.

Inside the door, you stop and stare. The apartment you used to live in was a perfectly adequate size, but this is ridiculous. On top of that everything is spotless and sleek. Sure, his scent is present in the apartment, but otherwise it looks like no one lives in it, very similar to the car. Your new alpha seems to be very neat.

You look down at yourself. It's been a while since you had the opportunity to wash your clothes properly. The bag in your hand with your few belongings has seen better days. The alpha struts into the apartment, not noticing you've stopped. You don't have socks on so you don't want to take off your shoes.

Frozen in place you can't decide what to do. Everything is just too much. But you're still at the front door, if you turn around you can run and go back to what you know. It would be easier in a way. He doesn't know you. He has a name but it won't get him anywhere.

Steps coming towards you snap you out of it and you meet the eyes of the alpha. They are calm and blue. The urge to run settles and you notice he has a bundle of clothes in his arms.

“You'll have to borrow some of my stuff until we've washed yours and gotten you more clothes. Bathroom is this way,” he jerks his head and turns around. This time you follow.

The bathroom has everything one could wish for and you look longingly at the tub. How long ago was it that you had a real bath? The alpha puts the bundle down on top of a basket and then shows you where to find towels and what all the different dials in the shower do. You nod, trying to keep up.

Then he turns and heads out but before he shuts the door you blurt out, “Wait! What's your name?”

He turns around and grins at you in a way that is both creepy and at the same time not unpleasant. “It's Lloyd Hansen, sugar plum.”

next

[sunboki]

You and Han Jisung are the ultimate best friends. While he’s busy nerding away, you’re filling him in on the latest and greatest drama. That’s until he brings up crushes. And I mean, what’re you supposed to say when he asks you that? It’s not like Jisung’s your crush… right?

📓 » Han Jisung x f. reader

GENRE┊non idol au, friends to lovers, (kinda) enemies to lovers, two idiots being oblivious, fake relationship au, highschool au, angst, fluff, slowburn

WORD COUNT┊5.1k words

PLAYLIST

WARNINGS┊profanity, lack of communication, childish pettiness, stupidity at insane levels

AUG’S NOTES┊valentine’s day with ji :(( take this as my tribute to hurting my own feelings with this fic 😭

THE BOYFRIEND STATUS TAGLIST — CLOSED

The first night of your downfall all started in mid-January.

All was well and had been going well, until it wasn’t.

.

.

.

You’ve known Han Jisung since second grade, starting with having to apologize for knocking over his castle and him proceeding to cry even louder in the sandbox, snotty in his red and white striped shirt.

You swear that shirt is still in his closet.

And when he was wimping away in a corner, you were the one that got him out of his shell. To this day you’re convinced you’re the first person to ever witness the true Han Jisung, who starts slapping things when he laughs really hard, who gets overly competitive during board games, who keeps hundreds of mind-blowing tracks he’s produced to himself, and who (you wouldn’t admit it) has one of the prettiest smiles in the world.

Freshman year of high school you met Jisung again in your Geography class.

Initially, it took you a moment to recognize his face, having changed quite a bit over the years. And certainly not a bad kind of change. Although, his nerdy personality was all the assurance you needed to figure out it was him, apart from that he switched to contacts, grew his hair out more, and looked, y’know, “older.”

Older as in: what happened to you? ..Why are you so attractive?

But you won’t get too far into that.

Through the years he tutored you. Jisung had a knack for studying since day one, and despite occasionally looking like he could pass as a dropout (usually the week before finals), no one else could maintain better grades than him.

So, on a night both you and Jisung were slouched over your desk, procrastinating school work by rating people at school from most to least kissable, he turns to you, face halfway illuminated by your lamp.

“Do you like anyone?” Your boba-eyed friend asks while you aimlessly scroll through your camera roll in search of the photo you’d been talking about, mumbling a quiet “of course” in response.

Jisung makes an unconvinced noise and clasps his hands together, leaning forward.

“No like, like like anybody.”

Finally escaping your ‘rating people’s kissing-capabilities’ headspace and now entering into your ‘is this the question i think it is?’ one, you wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans.

It’s a strange question, not a Jisung-question, and you find yourself growing increasingly nervous the longer he stares at you.

You’ve never even thought about it really, so why are you so sweaty? Why does your heart feel as if it may just beat out of your chest, why is your mouth so dry?

Questions.

Clearing your throat and secretly praying it didn’t give away your piling anxiety, you feign a roll of your eyes, tapping your fingernail on the cool desk.

God, why are you so nervous?

“Um, nobody, why?” You retort, ignoring the scrutinizing squint of his eyes watching you.

It’s never like this. You’re the one that teases, gets him all shy, stumbling over his words. So now you suddenly feel like Jerry and he’s Tom.

Abnormal.

“C’mon, there has to be someone you think is cute,” He whines, and before you can stop it one word smacks you upside the head.

You.

“It’s Minho!” You shout, hurried and barely audible as if trying to tune out your inner panic.

Han looks stunned.

Han as in best friend, not crush. Right.

What were you thinking?

“..Min.. Minho?” He phrases slowly, evidently surprised.

Being completely honest, you’re just as surprised as he is. Minho is attractive, sure, but never in your life did you consider him like that.

Oh how you wished you could erase all of this from ever happening.

It doesn’t make sense. Because it’s not like you’re into Jisung. Or are you?

Nope. Nuh-uh. You were just caught off guard and unprepared. Not to mention it was an unexpected question, that’s all.

Fuck.

You like Jisung. There’s no point of lying to yourself anymore. From the start of seeing him again, those “friendly” gestures weren’t friendly anymore, they were intentional, pursuing. Walking from class to class together, constantly checking your texts, meeting his eyes only to smile like fools.

“Yep. Minho. That’s the guy,” Cutting each sentence shorter than the last, you nod fervently, avoiding his gaze.

Both soaking in utterly hellish silence, the tension was likely seeping through the cracks in your door at this rate.

He really shouldn’t have ever brought this up, and you shouldn’t have said Minho. So on the bright side, at least you’re both at fault here in the grand scheme of things.

“..Alright then.” He shrugs and goes back to writing down notes, ignoring how the room feels a hundred degrees hotter and that every inch of your soul is drenched in a cold sweat, plagued with the situation you landed yourself in.

What has gotten into you?

Why Minho was the first name you said couldn’t be explained, and, with your amazing fortune, Minho happened to be Jisung’s friend in their shared engineering program.

Any name. You could’ve said any name.

Great.

“Psst!” You hiss, lingering behind the door, waiting for your victim to finally finish his day-long conversation with Mr. Hong.

Said victim (a.k.a Minho) delivering a venomous glare from the corner of his eye, you gesture for him to come nearer (much to his obvious dislike) once the coast had cleared. Thankfully, the classroom was a distance from Jisung’s, providing ample time to strike your plan before they joined sixth period together.

A plan that had been devised throughout the many hours you spent sleeplessly investigating your ceiling last night.

“I need your help.”

Wait for it. Here comes the questions.

“Is this about Jisung?”

Before you can open your mouth, he cuts you off.

“You got in trouble again, didn’t you?”

You sigh.

“I-“

“Are you pregnant?”

“SHUT— up.” Grabbing a strong hold onto your one opportunity to speak, you clamber both him and yourself into the nearest seat, dreading this experience the longer Minho stares daggers into your soul.

The idea is a stretch, but if the boy in front of you cooperates, at least a few bases might get covered.

“Minho, I need your help with Jisung.”

Anticipatory eyebrows (looking freaky similar to a cat) urge you further.

“Alright, first things first,” You huff, fishing in your bag prior to sliding the notebook in front of him. His eyes widen, breathing an esteemed “wow” upon reading each line.

“Rules For Our Fake Relationship”, The title reads in messy sharpie marker. A silly, first-grade clique idea, although, if wielded correctly, could very easily quell your.. “problem” for a bit while you brainstormed the next step.

Problem being, how can I make sure, at all costs, my best friend doesn’t know I’m in love with him?

“You really thought this one through, huh.”

“I do what I have to.” Cracking your knuckles and stretching your neck, you ignore Minho’s judgemental eyeball and begin setting down some basic rules.

#1 Under no circumstances should we ever kiss.

He seems to whole-heartedly agree on that one, pretty much gagging at the thought.

#2 No one but us is allowed to know this is fake.

The rest is history, so by the time you’ve reached twenty and he adds a “No acting lovey-dovey around me” rule, you realize you might as well make this a “Rules For Worst Enemies” list instead.

But just as you hand him the pen, awaiting his signature with an eager gaze, he deflates, popping the cap back on much to your displeasure.

“Before I sign my life away to your Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, you have to promise me something.”

“..Okay.”

Please don’t say your credit card, please don’t say your credit card please don’t say your credit ca-

“No matter how long this,” he gestures to your page-full of rules, “lasts, you have to find a way to explain yourself to him before Valentine’s Day, deal?”

Valentine’s day gives you a full two weeks to keep up your act, and as much as you want to deny and tell him that would technically break Rule #2, you doubt he’ll agree any other way. It’s Minho for goodness sake, you could throw a brick at his head and he’d wake up in the hospital the next day still remembering to feed his cats.

You’ll make an excuse.. or something like that.

Fine.

“Deal.”

Finally signing the bottom of the notebook paper, the bell rings for your next class to begin and your hand has already started to cramp horribly, a telltale sign your job here is done.

Stashing the illegitimate document in your bag and parting in opposite directions, your movements halt when Minho shouts your name, his flannel-clad form sporting a mildly smug grin.

“Hey! Don’t fall in love with me, okay?” He yells, and you make a disgusted face before both erupting into laughter.

After a rather ungrateful attempt of explaining your tardiness to English class, you drop your backpack down beside your desk, notifications buzzing with texts Jisung sent earlier today asking about where you want to sit for lunch tomorrow and your weekly tutoring sessions amongst other things.

A frown tugged at your lips.

You shouldn’t have lied, really really shouldn't have. So deep inside you hope; pray this’ll be your solution.

Fuck.

Jisung likes you.

Scratch that, he’s liked you. Liked you ever since fifth grade, when he skinned his knee wrecking his favorite captain america bicycle and you patched him up with multiple superhero bandaids.

So when he finds out it’s Minho you’re interested in, Lee Minho who in a billion years he didn’t expect you to be interested in, he’s astonished.

Because it’s not every day your best friend who you’ve been harboring the fattest crush on tells you she’s interested in another guy, especially not your other good friend, so he feels entitled to feeling a tad bit upset.

It’s not your fault and he knows it. You don’t know he likes you because he’s too much of a coward to say anything, do anything.

But somehow, in some majestic, all-knowing way, he wishes you had said his name instead.

Whether it was Summer Camp in middle school or all those times he’d sat behind you in Algebra just to talk to you, it was inevitable. Because before either of you knew it, he was falling in love, and apparently you were falling in love too; with someone else.

“Alright, and? Are you gonna tell me, y’know, why you like her?”

Awaiting the dismissal bell, he folded, desperately needing some kind of assurance. First person he usually went to was you, but that wasn’t possible now, since it’s not like he could simply run up to you and shout out his feelings, could he?

Duh, of course he could. Which is another reason why he won’t, and why he doubts he ever will.

Hell, merely talking to you on the phone whenever Minho passes by amounts to a mini heart-attack.

Instead, Seo Changbin stepped in, and in the midst of a barely occupied cafe, Han Jisung found himself spilling his guts. Spilling his guts as in: venting and brainwashing himself into thinking he could win you over.

“I mean, everything.”

His friend makes a hopeless sort of sound, head resting on his hand.

“She’s like…” Han forks a bit of the cheesecake, Changbin’s expression spurring his cynical seat-mate to continue.

“Cheesecake.”

The level-headed of the two chokes on his drink.

“..Cheese– Cheesecake?”

Han affirmatively nods. “And I love Cheesecake.”

Changbin rises from the table with a frantic Jisung in tow, pleading for his friend to hear him out.

“Look! Look wait, Changbin please-“

He swore the man’s eye twitched.

Although, they’ve known each other for four years, and he was quick thinking up a solution.

“I’ll work out with you for a month.”

He’s never seen a man sit himself down faster.

And as a result, their two hours of utterly senseless talk turned into short-lived (yet greatly appreciated) relief, filled with bits and pieces of advice granted by the matchmaker (Seo Changbin) himself. Plus, he made a good point in advocating you weren’t going out with Minho yet, right? Meaning, despite the possibility being sparse, he had a 1% on his side.

Rain pelted the campus upon his exit, the boy clambering his hood over his head, stepping a mere foot into the watery terrain for a text to vibrate his phone.

Usually he’d ignore it, but that was before he saw the number.

You.

Han stopped dead in his tracks, hoodie slipping off his head in the process—standing there, assailing droplets drenching his form, device clutched in a numb grasp.

Guess the relief wasn’t the only thing short-lived.

Y/N : You’ll never guess what happened Ji!! Minho asked me out!

Something about Jisung is different recently. You’re not sure if it’s an effect of your (fake) relationship, but he’s just.. different.

Distant.

Perhaps you should’ve expected it. This is the first time you’ve ever been in a relationship while being friends with Jisung, and the entire point of this after all is to keep your mushy feelings hidden.

But his entire “cold” persona was starting to get under your skin.

Yesterday he’d completely ditched you to talk to Chan, a fellow producer in the same class as Jisung which, might you add, never happened.

In fact, there was a time that your best friend had gotten so immersed in a conversation he slammed right into a pole. He still has a scar on his nose from it.

More so, a few months ago, leaning against the sink in his dorm the day after midterms when you’d be stressing and obsessing over precalculus, he reached up, cupped your cheek in a hand and rubbed his thumb along your skin.

..And you tumbled head first into those silly feelings the “he’s just a friend” Y/n had locked away and thrown out the key to.

Little did you know Jisung had a spare key all along.

“Eyelash,” He had said, but in your pounding eardrums the comment sounded more like a whisper, an invitation.

That night you lay in bed, trying incessantly to fall asleep to no avail, because every time you close your eyes the scene ran on replay, except in your fairytale he had leaned forward and kissed you—

A car alarm going off outside your window knocks your daydream awry, ushering you to give up on peaceful slumber after the three-hour trial period.

So why were you upset? You wanted this; you wanted to stay as friends out of the fear he didn’t feel the same—even more so that your friendship would dissipate along with it.

Easy.

It didn’t feel fair. You felt like, even though Jisung didn’t have any romantic intentions with you, you were technically (unintentionally) assigning his position as the third wheel without so much as a single vote.

And it didn’t feel fair, because a possibility remained.

A possibility that could mean Jisung liked you, and if that were the case, your efforts, not to mention your mind, would officially drift itself into a never ending orbit.

Albeit amongst your mental warfare, school ran right on schedule, blind to the infinitely deep shithole you had dug (and wished to bury) yourself in.

Thursday’s schedule consisted of a main topic.

Senior prom.

According to your firsthand accounts, prom in high school is either the best or the worst school event in the history of events.

The popular girls stick to tiny maxi dresses with overly tall heels and massive hoop earrings—granted, you don’t blame them for the dress, they’ve got snatched bodies, but sometimes (most of the time) the glitz and glam is a lot on the eyes.

Jocks will show up in cargo’s or dress pants thinking they’re the shit while their attire doesn’t even cut it when you look at their weekly exchange of a girlfriend, but hey, that’s high school.

If you were talking about yourself, you’d say prom was, well, prom. Not horrible, not amazing either.

Freshman year you spent way too much time rewatching “To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before” and filling your nights treating the approaching occasion like a sacred holiday. Sophomore year you began to lose interest, and as for Junior year, you nearly forgot it existed.

The more you thought about it though, Jisung would honestly rock a pair of heels.

Anyway, that’s besides the point.

Senior year, this year, there was a change in your rotation. Change, as in, big change. A what-about-Jisung-while-Minho’s-in-the-picture change.

It’s not like you were genuinely dating Minho, yet your wack job of a situation kept you from telling your best friend (crush) who is deliberately avoiding you at the moment, the truth.

Never in your life did you think you’d string yourself into something like this. That Han Jisung, that snotty-nosed boy, would be a constant reason for your incessant headaches, occupying every expanse of your mind on a continuous loop.

And by chance, fate of some kind, you finally run into the runaway culprit, tagging along with Changbin after the lunch break he normally spent with you.

Oh how the tables have turned.

So when the boy expertly dodges your first attempt to communicate, you don’t let him go, unwilling to let another unread message slip past without sparing a word.

“Jisung- wait.”

He turns to you, lips drawn in that straight line that always forms when he’s nervous.

Hundreds of possible questions you could ask in this moment, minimal time.

“Are you.. going to the prom?”

What kind of question is that you dumbass.

Fixating you with an equally incredulous stare, he tips his head slightly, a mocking, humorless chuckle following.

“Um, yeah?”

What. The. Fuck.

Maybe it’s the way he phrased his words, his cocky attitude when responding that irked your nerves. Regarding you like you’re three years old.

And maybe that’s your flaw, feeling like you’re supposed to be the one sending him beet red instead, used to that comforting casualness, your comforting casualness.

Together.

You wrinkle your nose, ripping your hand from his sleeve like you were stung.

Jisung seemed to feel it too, although only you could tell.

“Oh.. okay. I’m going with Minho, my- boyfriend, so don't worry about me!”

Aw shit, now you’re just embarrassing yourself. Shut up and leave, girl.

Jesus, why do you feel like crying?

You’d never sprinted off faster, long abandoning sympathizing with the now jerk-face Jisung and certainly trying to abandon the two days separating prom’s date and the three from Valentines, otherwise, your explanation deadline.

Talk about pressure.

Nonetheless, shopping for something couple-clique was hell. After never anticipating you’d be shopping for two in the first place, simply finding a flattering color proved itself challenging.

Minho was ungodly picky, and you refused to wear what this lunatic deemed prom-worthy. Also, simultaneously trying your hardest to welcome whatever prom season was (an occasion that felt disgustingly uncomfortable) and staying awake to tirelessly plan on how you would behave seeing Han there left no room for relaxing.

Oh, and telling him everything before Valentines too, adding another sleepless night to your February calendar.

Insomnia much?

“Yah! The tie is what makes us look like a couple!” You groan, pressing the dark green bow tie to his shirt while his grabby hands attempt at prying you off.

February 12th arrived dangerously fast, to the point you managed to snag a somewhat-similar tie and dress shade at the last minute, a tie of which you were straining to attach to Minho while standing in an adjacent room to the packed auditorium.

He childishly whines, complaining that it’s too much before all of a sudden the door springs open, figure standing frozen in the entrance.

A figure none other than Jisung.

Best part? Your hands are pressed to Minho’s chest, stuck in a rather compromising position now that you mention it.

“Oh— sorry, um,” He steps back, frantically closing the door in his wake.

This is what you wanted though, isn’t it? Payback for how rude he’d been, for him to believe you were dating Minho, that you weren’t remotely interested in him.

Regardless, it feels like betrayal.

Your companion’s mildly concerned look speaks your mind.

In the midst of your mental tormenting session however, Minho slammed his hip into the side of the door while leaving, gritting out a hushed curse.

“Want me to kiss it for you?” You automatically tease, puckering up your lips in an attempt to block out the voice in your head calling you heartless.

Well, it’s not like Jisung likes you. The only feelings you’re hurting here are yours.

“I. Would. Rather. Die.” He retaliates, nose scrunched while nursing the wound.

‘What a sweetheart’ you want to call back, but the weight on your chest seals your lips shut, and with a nervous nod you stiffly head toward the opening hall.

Something to blame. Right about now, you need something to blame that would at least provide some breathing room considering the blasting of a bass shaking the floor and just how many people are crammed in here.

Everything feels too tight, too much. Minho’s got a loose hold on your hand to keep up the act, but for who? You can’t spot Jisung anywhere.

The fake boyfriend to your side caught on relatively early, sending you a troubled expression you mirror back.

An hour in and there was no enjoying yourself, no laughing and slipping drinks somebody stole from their parents, no dancing around or sending the same compliment to seventy girls on repeat.

Han wasn’t here even after he had told you (asshole-like) he’d come. The entire reason you went these lengths.

Amidst your frustration, you spot a man in the crowd.

Aha.

Chan.

I’m not looking for Jisung I’m not looking for Jisung I’m not looking for Jisung—

“Where’s Jisung?”

You’re kidding.

Chan narrows his eyes, giving your wavering, obviously upset frame a once over.

“Jisung? He dropped off something for Felix. Didn’t he tell you he wasn’t coming?”

Again, you’re kidding.

What a liar.

And maybe you shouldn't have yourself get so mad. Jisung didn’t even know the half of it, nonetheless how far you’ve gone to secure his suspicions were out of your hair.

But you did go that far, and to think he didn’t show up after all left your tribulations useless.

Calm down, the sensible Y/n would scold.

This wasn’t the sensible Y/n.

Racing from the auditorium to the neighboring apartment complex a block or so away, you utilize the extra key he’d given to you, bursting through the door while ripping off your gloves and kicking off your mud-stained heels along the way.

Han spins around, clad in regular clothes—somewhat regular clothes apart from how incredible he looks—with his biceps straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt, glasses adorning his face, plate of leftovers in hand.

He’s been working out recently, or maybe the majority of the Jisung you’d seen wore hoodies and baggy tees.

You’ll thank whoever got him to the gym later. Presently, number one is Jisung. You and Minho can be dealt with afterward.

“Look, I know you really don’t want to hear this right now, but Minho and I broke up and—“

The words sound like vomit on your tongue, especially from the look Jisung gives you in return.

Fake, It’s all fake. Yet, it feels so real. Yes, you’re still mad, but it’s Jisung, and who are you to deny you still aren’t into him.

You don’t have to be sensible to know that.

“So?”

So? He asks. This Jisung asks, not the one who would’ve, at the drop of a hat, asked if you were alright, asked if you needed anything like a friend does. This is cocky Jisung, jerk-face Jisung.

You’re spoiled with the old Jisung, were spoiled.

But this isn’t him, this is somebody else.

Your frustration levels might breach out of your ears at this rate.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He scoffs, carding a hand through soft strands of hair. “I’m not Minho. I’m not someone you can drag along just for the fun of it, alright?”

Who are you?

Wildly, you wrack your brain for any plausible explanation.

“What- What do you mean drag you along? I would never—”

“Then why?!” He cries, slamming the plate against the table hard enough you notice a crack wedged on the side.

Breaking point.

Come to think of it, this is the first time you’ve ever heard Jisung yell.

What felt to be months and months on end of this lying and stifling came out to this, huh.

Screw it.

“Because! Because I like you, no, I love you Jisung, I love you so fucking much it kills me! Minho and I were fake! I set up all this bullshit just because I was scared of what we have disappearing, can’t you understand that?!”

He’s seething; fat, crocodile tears dotting his waterline. And you stand there pathetically, waiting to hear it, hear something.

“Turn around.”

Huh?

He raises his eyebrows expectantly, and you slowly do as told, awkwardly shuffling around till your back faces him.

His fingers sift across your back, chills spreading along your skin.

“You’ve been uncomfortable all night, haven’t you? Why didn’t you tell Min— Tell me?” He grumbles, unzipping the back of your dress and simultaneously allowing much needed air to re-enter your lungs.

You don’t need to respond for him to know, another of the many things you’ve fallen for when it comes to Jisung.

Although, another reason added to that list would be his arms wrapping around your waist, cozying to your back. And another when you shift around, your own arms slipping to his neck, savoring a hug you hadn’t realized how horribly you missed.

“Can you go back to being just Y/n and not Minho’s fake girlfriend?” He mutters, head buried in your neck.

“Yeah yeah.” You respond, voice wavering the longer you stay pressed in his embrace.

Jisung pulls back slightly, studying your face.

“Can I…” He begins trailing off, eyes suddenly laser-focused on your face.

A roaring pit of deja vu swallows you whole.

His thumb does that, that thing again. That careful caress on your cheek, that close proximity.

“Eyelash.”

Everything feels like it’s on loop.

Only difference is when he begins to lean forward, and you swear it’s your imagination when he pulls the glasses off his face, lips barely ghosting over yours.

“Can I kiss you, please?” His tone slightly breathless, you don’t have to say a word by the way you’re looking at him for Jisung to take initiative.

Yet, his feather-light peck to your forehead catches you off guard, preparing to laugh before a careful hand slips to hold your neck, maneuvering your face into a kiss you’re certain you’ll remember.

Jisung, whom, quite frankly, squealed every time the two main characters confessed their love to each other, who was emotional and fragile, was kissing you.

He kisses you, just like that stupid fantasy.

It’s messy, inexperienced, but it’s Jisung. That’s enough.

And then, even worse for your sanity, his hands slip beneath your thighs to pick you up—an action that wouldn’t have been this detrimental if he hadn’t gained so much muscle recently—but it does.

Basically breathing him in, you’re slow to separate, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, sending chills down your spine.

Your nerves are on fire.

If anything, the world could burn and you’re certain you wouldn’t even notice, not when Jisung had you caged between his arms on the bar stool, positively enamored with every slight huff and gasp of air, the squeezing grip you had on his arms.

Ignorant to the point you forgot about his gym-partner (likely responsible for helping Jisung grow muscle, you’d thank him later for that) otherwise roommate who wouldn’t appreciate his best friend hogging in the kitchen.

Luckily, it only took the clattering of keys lodging into the doorknob to pull you two off of each other, scrambling to grab clothing while you raced to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

Mere seconds after your hasty escape does the man, the myth, and the legend walk in, duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

Jisung awkwardly grins, leaning back on the island as if you hadn’t just been sitting there, all pretty and perfect.

Han had always thought Changbin would be some type of dog in his past life—maybe a Rottweiler. And by the way he seemed to practically smell something was up, he was certain of it.

“Did I.. walk in on something?”

Nearly slipping half-way through his reply, Jisung (non)chalantly wiped a bout of sweat from his hairline.

“Nope! Just uh.. organizing?”

He would get weeks of shit if anyone caught on, nonetheless his roommate.

Instead of interrogating him further, Changbin grunted, bending down to pick up what the younger thought to be a piece of trash, only for one of your heels to be pinched between his fingertips, expression reading: “Seriously? Organizing?”

Color draining from his face, Jisung humorlessly chuckled, likely sweating enough to fill the Atlantic ocean.

“Did I ever tell you about my secret life as a drag queen?”

Hastily snatching the shoe away at the older boy’s face palm, his face flushing ten thousand degrees upon the cuff to the shoulder he received.

“Y/n?” His friend called loudly, met with your pitiful “here…” from the bathroom and a smug giggle from an amused gym-rat.

Yeah. Shit for weeks.

“Do you think Minho’s a good kisser?” Jisung piques, sprawled out on the couch with a bag of potato chips in hand.

The first official night of your relationship with Han started in mid-February. Tonight, you planned a movie date.

You, almost suffocating from how fast you inhaled, threw a not-so-kind slipper at him, the boy screaming avidly in response.

Through a fake relationship, pettiness, and a sad attempt at making-out, in a sense, you did explain yourself.

Hah. Suck it Minho.

“Hey! I’m just asking!”

sunboki, may 2022 ©

FIC TAGLIST. @liknws @itshannjisung @spearbinnie0327 @manuosorioh @dearly-somber @thefangirloncrack @ivydoesit23 @thisrandomgoofy15 @thisisnotjacinta @palindrome969 @shycreationdreamland @j-oneseungz @hyperpixie @eyearebee @cupidcures @gumiess @loxgirl2004

[sleepysnk]

a/n: after much time relaxing, i am back! thank you guys for waiting and being patient while on my break. i appreciate it a lot :). i hope you all enjoy this! <3 mitsuya was highly requested and i wanted to give him a shot!

pairings: mitsuya takashi x fem!reader

warnings: best friend!mitsuya, some angst, mentions of previous talking stages, brief mention of ran haitani x reader, mentions of food, mentions of jealousy, confessions, nsfw, smut, car sex, use of pet names (baby, princess, my girl, good girl), rough(ish) sex turning vanilla, brief spanking, praising, dirty talk, creampie, some fluff.

synopsis: you and mitsuya had been best friends since high school. you did it all together and you both had become inseparable. mitsuya’s feelings soon turned romantic quicker than he expected, but he would only watch from afar as your “best friend.” one day, when your failed talking stage goes south, he decides he’s had enough of hiding those feelings and shows you himself how much he cares about you.

just friends? ft. mitsuya takashi

Meeting Mitsuya Takashi and having him as your best friend did so many wonderful things in your life.

The two of you had been friends since you were both freshmen in high school. Your friendship had begun when you entered your sewing class which was your second to last period of the day. Like many freshmen who enter high school, you were very jittery and nervous. You had already had a stressful day adjusting to the changes high school had brought to you, and all you desired was to go home and lay in bed. This was going to be your life for the next four years and those shifts in the environment really messed with you. You had already messed up by entering the wrong classroom and were almost late to your third period. 

When you entered the small classroom, your eyes wandered for an empty seat. Some of them had been claimed by others, but there was a free one in the back with a lavender-haired male sitting beside it. 

You hardly expected a guy to be in a sewing class. Not that you had a problem with him being there or anything, but not many guys were interested in fashion classes. However, despite that, you stepped to the back of the classroom and plopped down beside the boy. He didn’t bat much of an eye at you, and he seemed to be lost in thought. He looked to be around your age too, but nonetheless he kept to himself. You didn’t blame him either. It was quite difficult for you to make conversation with other people, especially other freshmen. 

Once the bell had rang, your teacher had introduced herself and began going over the course and welcoming anyone who was new to sewing. It was the same old introduction that was quite repetitive, so you sort of tuned her out while she talked about how she understood how stressful it might be and crap like that. You knew that facade would drop once the middle of the semester had begun. However, you quickly paid attention when you heard her spit out a few words that made any new freshmen nervous. 

“This is a bit of a social class! So, I’d like you to introduce yourself to the person beside you!”

Your heart rate had spiked at that. You had spent the entirety of your day introducing yourself to random classmates, or playing those stupid “get to know me” games. It had become quite exhausting doing such things. You would hardly speak with those people over your next four years, so you didn’t see why it was so necessary to do such a thing. Though, wanting to avoid being in trouble, you decided to turn towards the boy sitting next to you. Much to your surprise, he was already facing you with a friendly grin on his face. It relieved your anxiety seeing him do such an action. Sometimes, people didn’t give two shits about doing those chats with their classmates and just gave off the most awkward vibes ever, making it so much harder to even converse with them. 

“I’m Mitsuya Takashi, you?”

“(Y/N) (L/N).”

“What made you pick this class?”

“It looked.. interesting? I also wanted to learn to sew.. what about you?” 

“I want to become a fashion designer.”

Hearing those words made you all the more interested in becoming friends with Mitsuya Takashi. Eventually, a great friendship did form between you both. You two had become partners in sewing class and did projects with one another whenever it came up. You both had discovered you had the same lunch hour, so you often sat with him and talked about whatever had come up. The two of you had become quite the pair and learned so many things about one another. He had two baby sisters he took care of after school and he had a dream of becoming a fashion designer. It was so nice listening to him talk about different clothing items he wanted to create once he had the opportunity. Mitsuya was truly a great friend to have. 

Days turned to weeks, to months, to four years later. 

Your friendship had lasted all throughout high school. There were some bumps in the road, but you and Mitsuya had gone through hell and back with one another. He had been there for every little thing that had happened. Whether it was drama with friends, receiving your driver's license, gossip about the different guys in your classes, or even stuff about your parents, he was there for you whenever you needed him. You considered him your best friend, and he thought the same of you. The two of you were a great duo and you were blessed to have such an amazing friend like him. He never made you feel annoying or uncomfortable. It was something many people in the past had made you feel, and you were thankful he wasn’t one of them.

Both of you decided to attend the same university together too. Despite your majors being the complete opposite, you both continued going to school together. Some people called you crazy for doing such a thing, but you two loved the idea of having at least one knowledgeable person on campus. Mitsuya also had a great scholarship there as well, so it benefited him heavily. 

Little did you know, Mitsuya had feelings that weren’t just platonic.

Mitsuya knew it was somewhat wrong to develop feelings for you. You two were best friends. He knew that you would never see him in such a manner, but he just couldn’t help himself. He had developed feelings back when you both were freshmen. You were one of the first girls to ever speak to him in such a kind hearted nature. You were so pure and sweet, and your intentions were never malicious with him. He loved talking with you, and you had become such an important person in his life. He didn’t want to admit that he liked you. He ran the risk of potentially ruining your friendship if you didn’t feel the same way about him, so he kept his mouth shut about anything romantic. There were times he’d try and hint at his feelings, but it always went over your head and he feared your rejection of him.

He would always sit back from afar and watch you. He honestly wished he could come clean, because the secret was practically tearing him apart. He had so many thoughts about you it almost hurt him that he couldn’t say anything. 

With unbeknownst feelings, came other eyes to wander on you while Mitsuya stayed fixated. 

There were many guys in your school that had crushes on you, or you had feelings for. Mitsuya would listen to you talk and gossip about the ones you really liked in your classes. He knew listening to you made him feel worse than he already did, but you two were best friends. He didn’t want to tune you out just because of some selfish desire he had for you. He often envied the guys who got to know you on a romantic level. He wished it was him you were talking about every night. To be called handsome or cute by you would make him melt, but he knew that day would probably never come to be. Mitsuya was bummed, but he never wanted to leave your side. Dropping you for something so silly would probably hurt you more than anything else. He loved being your best friend. You truly blessed him in this life.

Now, as grown adults, you both faced many chances for romantic partners. There were several girls that Mitsuya had tried to speak to, but none of them were ever you. They didn’t laugh at his corny jokes or find interest in his little sisters. Some were just looking for a quick hookup, and usually by the end of it he was feeling guilty and not satisfied whatsoever. No one compares to you. He knew that, yet he still tried to continue finding somebody else that could numb those feelings for a little while. The same went for you as well. There were many men who sought you out throughout your first two years in university. Some of them had great intentions, while the others were not so great. The same theme always occurred. Mitsuya listening in on the random guys who made their moves on you. 

However, there was one occasion in particular that had Mitsuya a little alarmed.

One day, you and Mitsuya had met up on campus to study for some finals. You were both in the same math class and you had an upcoming test you had to do well on for your GPA to look nice for the next semester. While trying to study, you both began talking about your days and how it had gone. Mitsuya was listening but the mention of a certain name had made him pause completely in his notes.

“This guy.. Ran Haitani? He’s so hot! He gave me his number today!”

The pen in his hand almost snapped when you mentioned Ran Haitani of all people. Mitsuya had heard plenty of things about the man on campus. He was a year older than you two and he was kind of a heart throb on campus. He partied a lot and every girl swooned over the Haitani brother. Mitsuya never cared much for drama with other guys. If they wanted to play around with people’s feelings, then so be it. He just never liked to be included in such activities. However, hearing that you were involved completely shifted the story. He didn’t want you to possibly get hurt or end up in some crappy situation. You were never really involved in drama like that with guys or even girls for that matter, but he knew full well that Ran would lead you into something bad. He wasn’t the nicest guy and he probably had some malicious intent behind his words. 

Mitsuya contemplated on what he should do. He didn’t want to be a bad best friend and possibly hide information about Ran that could be crucial to your opinion on him, but he didn’t want you thinking he was doing anything out of bad intent. 

“I dunno if that’s a good idea, (Y/N). I haven’t heard the greatest things.”

Initially, his response confused you and he could see it written all over your face. Mitsuya had never spoken against other guys before, so it was very much a surprise to see him doing such a thing now. He feared at that moment he had done something wrong, considering you had been quite silent since he had replied to you. He just wanted to be as honest and crystal clear with you as possible. The last thing he’d want was that idiot Ran guy messing with your feelings. You had a big heart. Mitsuya knew that fully well, but he wouldn’t want anyone else messing around with it like it was a toy. 

“I just.. think he’s cute! That’s all! Plus, it’s not anything serious. Maybe it will be fun, Mitsuya!”

He wished it was just fun to you.

However, like a majority of your talking stages, they never really went anywhere. Ran Haitani was one of them. 

Mitsuya had no clue what happened until you phoned him earlier in the night. You sounded quite annoyed and upset over the entire situation with Ran. He had apparently ghosted you for some reason, and you had no idea why. It was frustrating to Mitsuya to hear such things. These lame guys leaving you for no goddamn reason pissed him off more than he would like to admit. There was so much to like about you. You had this amazing personality and your beauty only went along with that. There should have been guys kissing the ground you walked on. Not ghosting and leaving you for other girls that weren’t even on your level of awesome. He wished he could just tell you how he felt, but there was this devil on his shoulder that told him otherwise not to. It made him so angry, but all he could do was bite his tongue on the matter.

Mitsuya never wanted to admit jealousy. You were your own person, but his roommate, Hakkai, was very quick to point it out. He tried telling his close companion about what had gone down with Ran, and his response didn’t necessarily make it any better. 

“You’re jealous.. that’s what I’m reading here.”

Those words annoyed Mitsuya. Maybe deep down he envied those men that had their eyes on you, but jealousy? No way. 

Being the best friend he was to you, he tried his best to give you the best advice he could on the situation. He told you that Ran didn’t deserve you and that he was truly missing out on what a great girl you were. All you did was thank him and you two had made plans that following weekend to hang out. Mitsuya wished you took his words more seriously, because they were true. Assholes like that never deserved to see how great of a person you were. If he had it his way, he would have knocked them on their asses, but alas, he could never do such a thing. Not without practically spilling his guts out to you about how he’s wanted to date you since he was fourteen years old. 

He did look forward to hanging out with you, though. You were one of the few people Mitsuya genuinely enjoyed hanging out with outside of his classes. You brought so much happiness to the man, so much so he wished he could tell you all about it. 

However, he didn’t expect what was to come once he picked you up that day.

Your hangout with Mitsuya had started pretty casual and normal. He had picked you up from your dorm and you both went out to eat. He ended up choosing the spot that time since you had the chance the previous occasion. It was fairly nonchalant. You spoke about new assignments you had to get done and even brought up a vacation your mother had planned for you over the summer. Mitsuya didn’t have much to say about summer break. He usually had to take care of his sisters while his mom worked the entire day, but he did agree to make plans with you while school wasn’t in session. You guys were practically attached to the hip over summer break. It was hard to find a moment when you two weren’t out and about on the streets with one another.

You two had eventually finished your food and paid for your meals. Once you left the restaurant, you two had gone for a bit of a drive around town. The day was perfect too. The weather was clear and warm, and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. It had to be one of the greatest days you guys have had in a while.

Once the sun had begun to retire for the day, you guys had traveled to one of your favorite lookout spots in all of town. It was a small clearing that was at the top of a hill. It displayed all of the lights and if you looked far enough you would be able to see the city twinkling in the distance. You guys adored coming up there every now and then, especially when the sunset was pretty. You both began talking about random stuff that was on your mind. Whether it was school or summer plans, you always had something to talk about with one another. Mitsuya always paid great attention to you. You were always so cute when you spoke about something you were passionate about. He could listen to your voice forever if it meant he got to see your smiling face whenever he replied to you. 

Though, Mitsuya hadn’t expected to end up in the backseat with you doing something that was completely shocking to him.

You were both in the back. Your thighs were on either side of him while his cock was buried inside your creamy pussy. Slick trailed down his shaft from how wet you had gotten. Your arms were wrapped around Mitsuya’s neck while he bounced you on his dick. His hands never left the plush of your hips. The grip he had on you was tight enough that it could leave a bruise on your delicate skin. You were so fucking tight. He spent so many nights fantasizing about what it would be like to fuck you in his car, or even on his bed. He never imagined a moment like this would ever come to be. Your pretty tits in his face, gorgeous voice calling out his name like it was a prayer. You were truly a sight to see, and he felt blessed being able to see it.

His pace was set at a rough one. His cock was bullying your walls and practically splitting you apart with each thrust. You didn’t think Mitsuya was that big but my god it was. He was finding all of the spaces and areas that made your eyes roll back into your skull. “M-Mitsuya..! Oh my god!” your hold around his neck tightened as the pleasure increased in your gut. He was doing everything to make you see stars, and you were living for it. 

Your voice calling his name set that fire within him ablaze. He began to roll your hips on his cock, watching with every move how your body reacted to him. Mitsuya gritted his teeth from how greatly you were sucking him in. Your walls clenched and twitched with every inch of his cock entering you. You were taking him so well. Mitsuya had this regret of not informing you sooner of his feelings, or even making an attempt to fuck you. You were like an angel sent from heaven itself just for him. So perfect and beautiful that it was no wonder why all of these men at school foamed at the mouth for such a pretty woman like you. He was finally savoring the feeling of what it’s like to fuck you, and he couldn’t believe it was this exhilarating. What a fucking beauty you were. “Ah! That’s it, princess! Takin’ my cock like such a good girl..” he then landed a slap against the fat of your ass. “F-Fuck.. can’t get enough of you, baby!”

His praise only made you squeeze him harder, earning several grunts from the man. He took a mental note of that and continued fucking you at that pace. You hissed when that sting came from his palm, but nonetheless, it faded into pleasure as he continued rutting into you. 

He wasn’t sure how things led up to this moment. You were both sitting back there, watching the sun disappear behind the clouds. It was an activity you both had indulged in several times since you both became friends. You were conversing about random things and, before he knew it, Mitsuya had kissed you. He completely lost his self control and you both began making out with each other. He tried to apologize for invading your personal space and pause before things went in another direction, but you hushed him by grinding onto his aching cock and pressing your lips against his own. Mitsuya could hardly believe that it was finally happening, but you were just too addictive for him to say no. He had been wanting a moment like this for so fucking long that letting it slip through his fingers would fill him with regret. God, he wanted you so fucking badly.

Both of you were in complete bliss. Mitsuya was showing no signs of stopping, but to be fair, you didn’t want him to stop. He was placing you on cloud nine with how great his cock was. It had been such a long time since you had sex this great. You weren’t sure why it was hitting differently. Maybe it was because you were fucking your best friend of almost six years in the back of his car. There were a few times where you thought about what Mitsuya would be like in bed. You never shared those thoughts out loud, but they often plagued your brain more often than you would like to admit. 

The sound of skin slapping against one another filled the car. Mitsuya’s hands squeezed the underside of your thighs while his cock kissed your g-spot rapidly. Sharp gasps filled his ears whenever he reached that button inside of you. He smirked to himself knowing he had found it and continued abusing it. “Shit.. you like that, baby? Heh.. bet I fuck you b-better than those assholes you mess with, yeah..?” he reached forward and squeezed your throat with his hand, causing a whimper to escape your lips. “Tell me, baby, tell me I’m better..” 

Though your breathing was slightly labored due to his grip on your throat, you managed to open your mouth to speak. “Y-Yes! You’re – ah! – so much better, Mitsuya..!” you nodded your head, desperation dripping from your voice. 

He released the hold on your throat and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. Your lips were so soft and puffy. He didn’t want to ever stop kissing you. Your hands tangled themselves into his lilac hair, tugging and pulling at the strands from how high the ecstasy made you feel. Mitsuya swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to enter your mouth. Once your lips parted, his tongue darted into it and the kiss became deeper. He swallowed down all of those delicious moans and cries of pleasure. He almost chuckled when he felt you struggling to kiss him back. He was hardly doing that much to you, and you were already weak for him? How fucking cute of you. He knew you would be a total sight during sex. Mitsuya envied any guy that fucked you before he did. They probably didn’t pay attention to the most beautiful parts of you. Like the way you gasped whenever he touched your g-spot, or the way your pretty skin felt under his fingertips. Not him, no, he paid attention to every little detail there was on you.

His heart had been betraying him that entire time. It screamed to pour out those feelings he had been trying to mask for the last few years. Mitsuya Takashi was madly in love with you, his best friend. He yearned to finally let his real self be shown to you, but he feared so much. You could easily reject him and never speak to him again, but he wanted to be a part of your life whether as your best friend or your boyfriend.

Mitsuya was cracking and he finally reached a point where he could no longer conceal that side of him. He had to tell you. He was practically burying himself inside your guts right now, and the excitement of it all was pushing him to do such a thing. “F-Fuck.. (Y/N).. I love you..” he pressed his forehead against your own. He made direct eye contact with you. Your eyes were clouded with pleasure and, to be honest, it didn’t seem like his words had registered through your brain. “‘Love you so much.. I can’t h-hide it anymore..”

Your eyes went wide at his statement. You had no idea that Mitsuya felt that way towards you. You thought his love for you was platonic and more brother-like, but romantic? You hardly expected those words to slip from his lips. It was a lot for you to process, especially since your brain was quite literally mush at that moment. If anything, sleeping with him proved that you felt the same way towards your best friend. You knew your feelings for Mitsuya weren’t just regular ones anymore. The way you thought of him, the amount of time you spent with him. There was a reason you wanted to be around Mitsuya more than any other guy. It may have not been love, but your heart pushed in his direction more than anything else. 

Your silence made Mitsuya’s heart drop inside his chest. He worried that you didn’t see him in such a light, and it was honestly embarrassing. However, he knew this was probably the reality of his situation. You didn’t feel the same and he was okay with that. Those thoughts were quickly interrupted when you pulled him in for a kiss. It wasn’t rough or aggressive by any means. If anything, it felt real and he swore he saw sparks fly when your lips connected with his. His thrusts soon slowed and your hips were now slowly rolling along his cock, earning a few grunts from him. Just as quickly as you kissed him, you pulled away to look at your best friend. “I like you.. Mitsuya.” your face burned with those words escaping your lips. 

He was in a state of shock. He couldn’t believe you were being truthful with him. He could easily tell when you were lying to him about something, but you were so fucking genuine that it made him want to jump for joy. Instead of saying anything else, he pulled you in by your neck to kiss you. “Come here, baby..” he whispered, then captured your lips with his. He then began to slowly rut his hips up into you. Those relentless thrusts turned savory and slow, allowing both of you bathe in each other’s embrace properly.

His hand rested on your waist, guiding you as you rode his cock. You were getting close to your high. That knot inside your belly was tightening with each thrust of his hips. You sought that release more than anything else. Mitsuya could sense it too. Your body was behaving in such a manner that practically gave it away. You were becoming whiny and your thighs were beginning to tremble beside him. He wanted to give you such a great orgasm that you wouldn’t need another man to do it for you. Only he could do such a thing to your body. 

Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulder. The white hot pleasure in your gut had you practically crying his name. You pulled away, disconnecting the kiss between you two. Mitsuya saw how needy you were for him and his cock. He thought you looked so fucking gorgeous like that. “M-Mitsuya..” you whimpered, making eye contact with the man sitting before you. “Please.. fuck.. ‘m gonna cum. Need you so badly..!” 

Mitsuya increased his pace just a little, allowing you to inch closer and closer towards that desire you had within you. He watched your jaw fall slack and several high pitched moans slip from your lips. “C’mon.. be a good girl, princess.” he then began toying with your puffy clit, causing your hips to buck at the doubled pleasure. “Never gonna let anyone break your heart again..! I promise to t-take – ah! – good care of you.. you’re my girl..” 

Within seconds, your pussy clamped around his dick. Your orgasm rippled through you harder than you had expected. Your entire body began to shake and a loud cry of pleasure filled the car, bouncing off the walls. Mitsuya had also reached his high with you as well. His cum filled your cunt, covering your walls with sticky white seed. A mess had coated the base of his cock. The creamy white ring circled around it, allowing several noises to be heard as he slowed his thrusts down. He honestly couldn’t believe that you two had done such a thing with one another. However, he had zero regrets doing what he did. He was finally able to come clean with not just you, but also himself. He needed that release more than anything else. 

You slumped against his body. Your body was quite tired and you were twitching from your climax. Mitsuya’s hand landed behind your back, rubbing small circles on your skin. The temperature inside the vehicle had gradually increased from your activities, so the heat was uncomfortable. Sweat clung to your skin, leaving a small shine to your flesh. Neither of you gave much care, though. All you could think about was each other. 

You turned your face so you could press a small kiss against Mitsuya’s cheek. He couldn’t hide the smile that had formed on his features when your soft lips made contact with his skin. He held your body tighter against his own, making you feel safe with the man. “I meant what I said..” you whispered, letting your eyes fall shut. “I really do like you, Mitsuya.”

He chuckled, resting his head against your own. “I meant it too, (Y/N).”

[burninghalls]

❝a man's biggest sin is to love❞

summary: sephiroth's sleeping troubles, or maybe he doesn't have any trouble sleeping at all and he just wants to stay awake longer to soothe his troubled mind pairings: sephiroth x reader tw/cw: she/her pronouns (I'm sorry) but still gender-neutral reader, pure fluff, word dumps (im lonely and depressed), self-indulgent, originally made for only me so the "reader" might seem to have a personality of her own, i need to hug sephiroth

The night is hollow and gloomy, hiding nothing behind its layer of clouds. Fire is the only thing keeping them warm, or perhaps it’s being enveloped by each other’s embrace that does the trick. Either way, nights are best spent unaware, blissfully closing one's eyes. and to sleep until the first sign of morning greets them, mindlessly wandering around the field of dreams to await its arrival. For Sephiroth, however, nights like this are best spent wide awake, aware of everything his mind could grasp.

He’s aware of every fickle of her skin touching his and of any kind of contact with her. He’s aware of how her fingers brushed his hair, pulling back his mane, straightening his unruly curls, and massaging his scalp. He’s aware of the warmth of her breath, the one thing he can only be aware of if she’s close enough to him, like this once, for example. And most of all, he’s aware of the steady beating of her heart, keeping his own calm and serene, slowly lulling him to sleep. Everything is against his wishes to stay awake and enjoy every last second. Despite her being aware and conscious, he still denies the twisted pull of dreams that tries to make him fall deep into their slumber.

“Aren’t you tired?” The sound of her voice caught him by surprise, as this is the first word she has uttered for hours now. “You don’t have to stay awake all night. You have a lot to do tomorrow, don’t you?”

Sephiroth shakes his head slowly, not having enough energy to do anything else. “I’m not tired yet,” he responded firmly. “I’m okay. Don’t worry.”

She sighs, as if his words of assurance aren’t good enough to soothe her troubling mind. Her fingers moved down from his hair to his face, touching the cold, ragged skin of his cheek, pulling him up so their gazes could meet. He’s always awestruck whenever he looks at her—so beautiful, so endearing. His heart rate increases just at the sight of her. “I can always tell when you lie.”

He raises his eyebrows, his own arms tightening around her in a gentle embrace. “How so?”

“Well, you always have this look on your face when you lie.” Her finger touches the space between his eyebrows, smoothing its crease. “See? You frown a bit. It’s noticeable.”

He shakes his head. “Only you notice such a little quirk of mine, my flower. No one else does.” He smiles at her, his warmest smile, one he reserves for her and only her. “Either way, I still want to stay awake. Why don’t you sleep first?”

She clicks her tongue in slight annoyance. Although he knows she’s not actually annoyed by him and the gesture is merely a sign of dislike towards his endearing stubbornness, his heart still jumps at the sound. “I can’t sleep until you do too; you know this.” She flicks his forehead with her fingers, and he hisses in response. ”You always shift under the cover when you’re awake once in a while. I’m a light sleeper, your movements wake me up.”

He chuckles. “Forgive me, my flower.” His hand reaches to hold hers, leaving a kiss on the back of it. He doesn’t let it go, instead placing her opened palm on his cheek, as if the thought of losing her touch terrifies him. His hunger for her is truly despicable and that becomes his biggest sin as a man. “I’ll try to stay quiet for you.”

If Sephiroth’s stubbornness is bad, then hers is much worse. He wonders if it was their similarities that attracted him to her. “You’ll complain to me for your lack of sleep tomorrow, oh I just know of it!” she mutters in a high-pitched voice, something he recognized as a sign of irritation. He sighs at her remarks, burying his head deeper into her chest. “You won’t be focused on your missions tomorrow if you do, then Hojo would blame me for being a distraction for you. He always does, he’s insufferable!”

Sephiroth frowns at the mention of that name. He hates how the name sounds in her voice. Although the way she says it clearly holds a hint of disdain, he still would prefer if she didn’t mention that name at all. “Does he now?” he asks. “What did he say to you then? I was not informed about this.”

Her eyes widen for a fragment of a moment, he knows this as a sign of surprise, his question must’ve rendered her speechless. "I-" She cuts her words immediately, looking away from him. Ah, so she wasn’t supposed to tell him this. Does Hojo put her up to this? “It’s just that… he thinks I’m a bad influence for you since you’ve been too distracted to love me rather than fighting for the war. You know how it is.”

A pang of pain stabs through his chest. How could one ever say something so cruel to her? She was never a distraction; she was far from that. As a matter of fact, her influence has been nothing but the best, filling his otherwise lonely void of life with blooming lilies. He loves her deeply for this, and to hear such words given to her, he just couldn’t accept it.

“That’s not true at all, my flower,” he insists, his gaze sharp on her, yet the edges are soft. “You were never a distraction or a bad influence for me. I appreciate you dearly. You trust me, don’t you? What Hojo said was nothing but blasphemy towards your name.” She paid no heed to his words, not because she lacked care but because she feared he would do something she did not desire. His relationship with his rumored-to-be father has never been good, they’re like water and oil, they can never combine. The space separating them is one full of mistrust and judgment, of painful expectations, and half-ass lies. Sephiroth can never make peace with him even if it was his heart’s desire, for the man is long gone in his deranged journey towards reaching the one thing humanity should not. Hojo is a madman and Sephiroth refused to succumb to such an unspeakable fate. She does not want him to either.

“I’m fine. It does not bother me in the slightest. I know how he is,” she tries to assure him, but even Sephiroth is no fool. He can sense the lies dripping off her rose-tainted lips, yet he keeps them to himself for now. “All I need now is for you to rest. You’ve had a long and tedious day. Without sleep, you’ll only cause more harm to yourself the next morning.” “I don’t need to sleep as much as you do. You should know this by now. My work performance won’t change even if I stay awake all night.” He had done this multiple times. On days when his insomnia would attack him the most, on days where closing his eyes was just a useless attempt to seek solace in his loneliness.

“It’s not healthy for you,” she retorts. Her lips formed a thin line—signs of worry. She’s worried for him. How can somebody be so kind as to worry about his well-being? Sephiroth is not a regular person; that is one thing he has established for himself since he was a child. He has always been different, with the voices in the back of his head screaming the same word over and over again. Sephiroth is not human. Love is only meant for humans; worry and care are only meant for humans; he’s no human; they’re not meant for him. There’s a sense of guilt clouding his mind and stabbing his heart every time she insists that he deserves something greater than what she could offer him. In truth, he thinks he deserves nothing at all. “SOLDIER or not, we all need our sleep. You’ll get more energy by sleeping, as long as the hours are enough for you and not too much. What if you get tired on tomorrow’s mission and an enemy sees it? They can use this as your weakness, you can get hurt easily, you can—" Sephiroth cuts her off with a hum, which causes her annoyance to increase even more. She’s not one to make petty threats to get her wishes, but in terms of him and his unreasonable sleeping schedule, she has no choice but to do so. “If you sleep now, I’ll cook your favorite food tomorrow.”

He shakes his head. “Seriously?” He nuzzles his nose into her chest. “How many times have you done this?”

She huffs. “Too much, I suppose. I need to come up with something new.” She thinks for a few seconds, conjuring up new ideas that might be able to persuade him to agree to her wishes. “How about… if you sleep now, I’ll make sure to wake up early tomorrow to see you off.”

Sephiroth smiles teasingly. “Are you sure you’re capable of doing that? You’re not an early bird, my flower.” Sephiroth’s words crumbled all of her other arguments to back her up. She frowns, knowing that he’s indeed telling the truth. No matter how many times she has tried to wake up earlier in the morning so she can help him before he goes off to do his duties, she has never succeeded so far. Sephiroth would always accidentally wake her up when he kissed her forehead, whispering a few words of goodbye before tucking her back to sleep in the comfort of their shared room, only to awaken a few hours later, her heart clenching in annoyance once she realized that she wasn’t able to see him before he went off for work.

She nods, this time she will succeed. “I’m sure. I can do it this time,” she insists. Sepiroth merely chuckles at this, shaking his head as if the thought of her doing something he deems to be impossible is amusing to him.

“Very well.” If his flower insisted on wanting something, he would do it for her. Sephiroth is a strong man, he’s powerful and scary, yet his only fear is her. The thought of making her worry for him is something he would rather avoid. For her heart is much rather be somewhere better. “Sleep with me, my flower. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

[thesensteawitch]

What Blessing Is Coming In Your Life?🕊️🌻

Pick A Pile Reading

(Left to Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)

Hello, Senstea Souls!

Welcome back to another collective reading. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

In case of personal readings, I am sharing the links below:

Booking Form

Rate Card

Pile 1

Tarot Cards- 3 of Wands, Eight of Cups, The Hermit, Ace of Cups, King of Cups, Knight of Wands

Hello, my dear pile 1. I see that this blessing seems to be a blessing in disguise. You currently may be or will go through some difficult emotions that will make you feel trapped. To be sensitive to pleasure you'll need to be sensitive to pain too. You may want to isolate yourself from the world for some time to see the clear picture. The sun will shine again and a rainbow will be formed. This blessing in disguise will push you towards faith. I see that some of you have never truly experienced faith. You will experience it now. Because that faith will take you to the end of the road, to your home. This journey may seem never-ending but that's not true. Your one action will bring a ripple effect. It will change everything for you. You are just one decision away from vanishing these dark clouds above your head. Soon some divine intervention will happen which will free you from the long ongoing anxiety or emotional turmoil. For some of you, I see that someone will be coming to save you and get you out of your misery. This person will be an action-taker and may inspire you to finally make a move. This blessing will come once you consciously withdraw yourself from the world and listen to the voice that comes from within you. Interestingly even when alone on this journey there's somebody who will always be there for you. They may stay quiet but will stay near.

In case of personal readings feel free to DM me.

Pile 2

Tarot Cards- 10 of Swords, Three of Swords, The Fool, The Emperor, The Chariot, Nine of Swords

Oh my god pile 2. A tough cycle is ending in your life. You have endured the amount of pain you were supposed to. I sense a rigid energy around you that was just not letting things go your way. Some of you might have stayed at home for longer than you should have. The tough cycle has almost ended. Now a new chapter is beginning. All the pain you went through to follow this new path with a new perspective and courage was worth it. You cleared a karmic debt. Congratulations! Don't keep hurting your heart with your thoughts. A huge personality shift was needed and that's why the divine made sure you go through this tough phase. A lot has changed within you. Deep down you know that you are not the same person anymore and that my friend is your blessing. You may not see it but you're blessed with renewal and new energy. With God's grace, you've transformed. You need to let go of the old version of you completely. You've already shed a lot of your old skin. Shed the last bit of it too. Some of you are even in a shock state. You may feel numb to your surroundings or what happened to you. Or some days you may just burst out with tears all over your pillow cover. It's been difficult and my heart is with you but now the universe says, “They have learned. It's time for new beginnings.” Move forward with faith don't doubt your intuition. It took you so much pain to truly listen to your intuition. Now is not the time to ignore it. Say what is there in your heart. Be honest about your desires and what you want out of your life. Either say it to someone or directly to the god. But be clear. You went through all this only to refine your true expression. You are being blessed with new opportunities and transformation. The universe is showing you, the new you.

In case of personal readings feel free to DM me.

Pile 3

Tarot Cards- The Lovers, Three of Wands, Three of Pentacles, The High Priestess, Two of Cups, Knight of Cups

You know what pile 3? Love stands against all odds. Despite all your doubts and speculations what's coming in your life is true love. You won't need to do anything. It will happen in the divine timing. Some of you have already come across this person in your life. I see a soulmate connection. You don't need to be so afraid your bond is divinely protected. You may be completely opposite of each other but perfect for each other. 333 may be significant for you. No matter what goes wrong in your life this person will stay with you through thick and thin. They'll love you dearly. They may take things slow but they'll make a move. It's beautiful to see how you two are going to be a support system for each other. I sense that deep down some of you may not be ready for this connection as you will be challenged to trust them. But if you stand firm and trust your intuition you'll see all the green flags. The whole universe conspired for you two to come together. It's happening! Wow! I am so happy for you guys! Just spend some time alone to understand this person better. Give yourself space. Don't discuss this connection too much with others. Because ultimately you know better.

In case of personal readings feel free to DM me.

[antiterf]

I just got out of the hospital and it's so bizarre how I definitely got privilege for being a man while my trans status was not treated as well as it could've.

First off, I don't think I would've been admitted into the hospital at all if I were still seen as a woman. I had been sick for weeks and they found pneumonia from two scans in the ER. I was going to be sent home until another doctor took charge and was concerned with some of the imaging on the scans.

I had barely any symptoms of what they wanted to make sure wasn't there. But they wanted to be safe, which I was happy about. In total between the ER and hospital, I had 5 different scans for something that the doctor was mostly sure was nothing. So far with the results, it's negative or mostly nothing.

And yet while I was there I was told that they could not get me my testosterone injection. I am way past the date I need it. Two different excuses were "that's prescribed downtown, right?" Which, yeah, what does that have to do with anything? It's still a prescription, I still have it, just like my other meds. And another was something along the lines of focusing more on me being healthy. Like a change in hormone pallet from a drug I've been on for five years isn't that important. Or worse, insinuating that it's inherently harmful for me to take it.

And if you think it was being overly cautious, or a general lack of care for mental health, I was still given my adhd meds while they kept measuring my heart rate to be high. They didn't even try to specify IR vs ER for them and gave me the wrong type on the first day despite it literally being in my charts. The only other drug kept from me was an anti inflammatory because they wanted to watch the fever.

And when I mentioned a prior nurse seemed to be weird with the trans thing (I asked for underwear and they said "this is as close to panties as we get" which is, way too subtle to not seem strategic) the other nurses got super fucking uncomfortable. Like, it's something I shouldn't have said or acknowledged. "Just try to correct us if we mess up" at this point in my transition I think I can attribute being misgendered as transphobic unless the person thinks trans man means trans woman and is trying to be affirming. But again, bit too subtle to correct.

Even on the first day there, a staff member just blatantly misgendered me, and I was too out of it to notice. I only know now because my mom was there and tried to actively correct them before mentioning it to me later.

And this odd combo is obviously dependent on how I present myself, my transition status, my Whiteness, and how that all fits into cisnormativity. I'm mainly sharing because... who would imagine this exact way that intersectionality works like this without sounding ridiculous.

[whats-it-mean]

hii may i request anything w john x reader. like literally anything imso sick for him

Scary guard dog privileges on movie night ☆

For @mizukiyama

Mikoto/john x reader during milgram movie night !

A/N - Tysm for the req!! and ofc ! we love john in this household. i hope its ok i went with a horror movie theme bc my brain is empty ahshdj,,, i hope you like it tho !! the mikoto/john brainrot is real. john would be such a guard dog in my mind wahskd we love a protective bf &lt;3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Horror movies weren’t exactly your forte- you could withstand them, and you wouldn’t be loosing sleep over some cheesy plotline- but in the moment, you knew full well you were weak to jumpscares. But tonight you were watching a movie with the other prisoners too, which meant you were ready to take every measure necessary in order to not make a fool of yourself in front of the others. 

After at least 20 minutes of wasted time with everyone scrambling about to get settled under layered and fluffy blankets, most everyone seemed comfy and content with their spots, except for Amane, who had adamantly insisted that she would not be partaking in the movie. You yourself were covered in blanket upon blanket, so much so that it was almost hard to see you underneath them, next to Mikoto, who had a bowl of popcorn propped carefully on his legs. His eyes were narrow and harsh, and he was mostly silent, a general sign that it wasn’t exactly Mikoto, but rather… the other Mikoto.

You had discussed the topic of Mikoto’s… other versions with Es multiple times, but as close as they ever came to caving and giving you more information, they simply shook their head and muttered that they couldn’t help you. And you couldn’t blame them- as prison guard, it was no surprise they weren’t able to tell you the details of the situation.

You let out a quiet sigh as a hush fell over the other prisoners, the screen illuminating itself as the movie started up. It stayed mostly quiet throughout the room, save the occasional whine from Fuuta about how unrealistic the special effects were (despite the fact that he had a death grip on his blanket). 

It was a basic horror movie plot, completely predictable, and, yes, the special effects were shitty- what you would expect from a movie night in prison, although you could still feel the way you got uneasy any time it fell too silent. Every now and then, it would go completely silent on screen, the protagonist walking into a trap so obvious it almost bothered you how stupid they were. An obvious setup for a jumpscare.

You knew it was coming, but at the same time, you were absolute shit at preparing yourself for it.

The moment you heard the noise, you jumped noticeably high, letting out a squeak that was thankfully hidden by Fuuta’s much louder yelp. Instinctively, you reached out to grab whatever was closest and most convenient, since usually, at home, this object would be your precious Ikea shark- but, alas, as fate had it, you did not end up wrapping your arms around a Blahaj, but Mikoto’s arm. 

Shame that felt even worse than being jumpscared settled over your entire body, and you felt your face flush red as you prayed desperately that nobody else had noticed. You watched for any sort of reaction from the man beside you, but he didn’t flinch, or even let his gaze waver from the screen. Shakily, you turned your head back to the screen, although you felt it was far too awkward to try and move now. You felt your body slowly calming down, heart rate going back to normal as your racing mind slowed…

Until you felt a slight shift, and in some sort of response to the way you’d jumped onto him, Mikoto wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you up against him. He was subtle about it, making sure not to make any sudden movements in hopes of nobody realizing. Once you were secure against his chest, he placed a hand in your head and you leaned onto his shoulder a bit. Your nerves were going crazy from the sudden intimacy, but you couldn’t deny that it was nicer.

Part of you wanted to ask Mikoto what he did that for, but his mood was much more fickle when he was different like this, and you knew that if you brought attention to the two of you in a position like that, Mahiru would never let you hear the end of it.

You just stayed, sitting against him like that, practically overflowing with warmth, struggling to pay attention to the movie at all any more. You felt another jumpscare building up, but in the back of your mind, you couldn’t really react in time.

But he did.

His grip on you tightened the moment anything popped up on the screen, and as the night progressed, he continued to behave like this, glancing over at you every so often to make sure you weren’t too scared. The way he held you so carefully, you could almost mistake it as him wanting to protect you-

oh.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── end

[pro-mammonologist]

A Little Show

A little unhinged exhibitionist Mc Drabble with mammon in which there’s a little twist to make it more fun and intimate. Wrote after a terrible day a work and during pre-menstrual horny

Very nsfw teehee cocky dom mammon is my bread and butter

GN!Mc x Mammon

You could feel the jiggle of your ass vibrate at the slapping of Mammon’s pelvic area against your skin as you braced against the couch. Mammon was standing on his knees on the edge of the couch, fucking into you nice and hard while his arms surrounded you and kept your hands pinned down. You tried to bury your head into the plush of the cushions but you knew Mammon wanted to provide a show.

A show for… well, whoever happened to be interested within your home. Lucifer sat in a recliner, sipping tea and watching closely as you came undone from Mammon’s touch. And Asmo was too eager to get closer but Mammon said if he could see who was watching he’d lose his spunk and probably get a little bit too possessive for this fantasy of yours.

You see, they have all shared lovers, but you’re a bit different. Mammon wants you to himself but still knows how hot it is when a shy, introverted, sweet, little thing happens to have a taste for exhibitionism. Mammon is a show off when he wants a fuck but when he’s in love with the one he’s fucking, he’s gotta have boundaries right? Or else his greed will make him a nightmare for you.

Mammon had no clue who was watching when he fucked you, you didn’t know either, just that you were being watched, you could feel the eyes and oftentimes you and Mammon had a good guess as to who was in the room when you subbed for him and wanted to make it public.

Yours and Mammon’s eyes were draped in black silk to obscure your vision, despite that, Mammon knew exactly where to touch and you did too. Not as though you could move when his hands had your own pinned so deep into the cushions there will probably be an indent for a long time. You were crying out louder than your pride wanted you to in front of others, but the thought made heat swell in your groin. Mammon was proud of himself for making you such a mess on his cock. Your hole was pulling him in repeatedly, begging for him to keep going for as long as he could and your pretty mouth made it even better. One of Mammon’s hands left yours and his fingers met your face and your ajar mouth.

“Suck ‘em.” He said and you started to lap at his fingers, taking them in to sate your oral fixation. You could hear Mammon’s panting in between a small laugh. “Your moans are so cute even when they’re muffled. You ain’t supposed to talk when your mouths full.” He stopped fucking for just a second to breathe and pull your body back against his. “Maybe if you do a good enough job I’ll let ya suck my cock, eh?” You could tell he was feeling extra cocky, especially how he played at teasing you. He was still inside you down to his balls and his cock was pulsating almost with how high his heart rate was.

You heard a small chuckle from somewhere in the room and you immediately knew who it was from the pitch. Mammon hopefully didn’t notice or was too drunk on you to give a shit. Regardless, you desperately wanted to know what he was thinking.

Well, what Lucifer was thinking was how Mammon’s whole demeanor changes when he’s inside you and how you become some unraveled by it. Does Mammon’s dominance truly arouse you so? Had Lucifer had known you enjoyed such a teasing personality, he’d have been sure he was the one fucking you instead. Perhaps Mammon would spontaneously develop a cuck kink and he’d be lucky enough to be the bull. If anything Lucifer would want a much larger crowd than just his brothers should you be so aroused by company. Only a select few could still watch and all would have to keep tight lips despite wanting to show off how much he could make you lose yourself.

Asmo on the other hand was far too enamored by the intimacy of you and Mammon together and how your bodies meld so beautifully that it’s almost poetic. How many times did it take for you two to know each other so well? To have each others bodies down to a t? Asmo was fascinated by how your mouth parted in ecstasy each time Mammon first would bottom out inside you. Would you always love how Mammon stretches you? Would you ever get tired? Or perhaps would Mammon ever tire of you? No, that’d be impossible. What made Asmo truly so obsessed with your little fantasy was how you, an innocent little human, was so turned on by something so naughty. What made it even better was how Mammon became more and more confident with his words and actions. This time, Mammon so confidently threw your body around to suit your needs and said everything he needed to make you melt. God, Asmo was jealous.

Mammon’s fingers finally parted your lips and your spit dribbled down your chin. He gently guided the two of you to turn around so that you’d be almost facing them and then Mammon sat back, guiding you to sit on his cock while your back pressed into his chest. His hands on your thighs, he squeezed them and lifted you slightly.

“As much as I want you to suck me off, I’d much rather make you cum on my cock first. You’d like that right? Tell me what you want, Mc.”

“I wanna cum first too.” You answered tentatively, heat rising in your face and you could practically feel Lucifer’s snicker and Asmo’s silent awe project toward you.

“So shy even now. Come on Mc, don’t worry I can do the work for ya. Gonna let me back inside you? Huh? Tell me exactly whatcha want.” What happened to your tsundere Mammon you’re supposed to be the confident and teasing one, not him! It’s like the arousal has poisoned his head!

You were at a loss for words but you had to say something or else you might be too humiliated to continue this let alone eat at the same table as your observers. “I just want you to fuck me, don’t leave me hanging like this.”

Mammon bit into your neck and made you gasp. “Heh, you’re too cockdrunk for details right now. That’s okay, your embarrassment just makes you cuter.” Mammon let you sink down onto him and you inhaled sharply. “Atta human, so motherfuckin’ tight.” You were humiliated but it all faded the second he was inside you again. “Gonna be a good human and take it all for me? You wanna take it all?” Mammon slapped your thigh. “Why dontcha beg for it?”

[adultemophase]

A VERY LONG ARCANE S2 REVIEW (Not spoiler free below page break)

Firstly, these are all my opinions and everyone is entirely entitled to their own. If you hated S2? That’s fine but I didn’t. So, I will be doing a kind of general breakdown of my thoughts on each act below but first my general review is that I think in terms of overall story telling, season 1 is better.

To ME, S2 seems like more of what they initially had in mind for the show, and they just really nailed the exposition of S1. This is what I think made S1’s pacing feel a lot better - it’s all exposition for S2. Season 2 had to fit a climax and resolution for all of these characters in the same amount of time that they took to set up all of these story lines in the previous season. I genuinely think that each act could have been it’s own season but w/ how expensive the show is to make and the amount of time production took between seasons, I see how that’s not practical. Especially if they want to explore other regions sooner than 15 years from now.

TBH I really enjoyed this season. I understand some people are hating it because of the parts they don’t like but it’s still a visually stunning show with great characters. Do I think there were areas where the story fell flat? Yes. I also think given the time constraints and restriction of this being the last season, the visual story telling was very well done and a great way to move along the story without sacrificing time. I genuinely think it’s such a phenomenal feat of animation that characters expressions convey thoughts and emotions that feel real without dialogue. I still am blown away that it’s a LoL show because despite my love of league lore and characters, I never would have expected that Riot could produce such a heart wrenching show about the tragic nature of love and loss, the things we do for love, and the flaws of our own humanity.

I also think some people set their expectations WAYYY too high for the social commentary aspect of the show after s1, as far as I’m aware there was never any claim made by any part of the prod or writing team that it would be one. Idk overall, I thought it was a lot of fun and still an exceptional show. Not what I was expecting but I’m not upset about how it ended. I think it was conclusive but also not so finite that it leaves zero room for interpretation of the characters implied futures.

It is a little disheartening to see so many immediate negative reactions to it but, again, people are entitled to their own opinions and as much as I complain about people not using critical thinking skills or passing grade 9 literature - art is subjective. Animation, ESPECIALLY at this scale and complexity, is a form of art. I, as I’m sure many other’s did, found it a fulfilling end to one of my favorite shows. Yes, I wish there was more but I can’t bring myself to be disappointed with what we did get.

Below is my (again PERSONAL and NOT SPOILER FREE) 1-10 rating and my thoughts on each act (not really going to analyze anything because I need about 3-5 weeks to scrub through every episode so only my little reviews) :

ACT 1 (7/10) : I think this act is the one with the worst pacing, but I said a whole back in a previous post that I believe to some degree it was intentional. There is suddenly a war happening so I think it’s supposed to feel chaotic a bit chaotic. However I can concede to part of it just being, well, bad pacing. This act is definitely one I wish could have taken up more episodes if there were more seasons since I would prefer flushed out development as opposed to music videos at the beginning of each episode. However, for what it was, they serve their purpose narratively and relay the information that the viewer needs to know. Otherwise, as heartbreaking as the act is, I gotta put myself on blast and say that I LOVE the end sequence of ep 3 when Ambessa makes Caitlyn commander. Like it’s so daunting and cool. Ep 1 fight scene at the memorial? super sick. I also loved the development of the dynamic between Sevika and Jinx. You can feel the characters devolve into a version of themselves that truly is worse and I think that’s so fun. Most of my drop in rating is from how fast it feels.

ACT 2: 9/10

I simultaneously have so much and so little to say. I won’t talk about Isha’s death because to me it was fairly evident that she was going to die from act 1. Anyways, for me this was the most tragic act and I’m still trying to decide between this and act 3 as my favorite. I love them both, in different ways. Seeing Jinx and Vi be brought together and Vander was so touching and sad. You get a real look of how much they still care for each other despite the fact that they’re perpetually ripped apart. I’ve already made a post about the scene between Caitlyn and Vi, so I won’t just say the same thing I’ve already said. I also honestly am not upset that Vi’s “six-ish months of going insane” wasn’t drawn out. Again, I don’t LOVE the music videos, but narratively, it tells you virtually everything you need to know about what’s happened to her and where she is mentally. It’s literally a montage of her life for the past several months. As a recovering addict and someone known to self destruct, I would much rather they condense that like they did rather than draw it out and not handle it well. If you’re going to be cynical, you could say they didn’t anyways but, recovering addict, so I was more worried before the act 2 release that it would be triggering rather than handled poorly.

Jayce coming back and tweaking out was also such a fun touch when it wasn’t explained until the next episode why he was acting that way. Like I figured it had to do with the hex crystal now fused with his body but it was still so interesting.

ACT 3: 9/10

Maybe unpopular but I LOVED this act. Everything was so visually intriguing that on my first watch I wasn’t even fully locked in just because I was focused on how good the imagery/animation is. I thought I was going to hate ep 7 because, unfortunately that leak was real (no I won’t be changing my pfp to a clown like I said I was bc I’m stubborn) but the implication to me of that episode was not “Vi dead so everything good!” it’s that they saw a kid die because of the crystals Jayce had and, in brevity, saw what the tension between the undercity and Piltover was doing to people. I am curious what happened to THAT universes Jayce but I imagine he was probably imprisoned.

Obviously, I have to address the sex scene, and honestly? I don’t mind that it’s in a jail cell BECAUSE of the very obvious parallel to how they first met. It was also done in such a wonderful way that it feels like a legitimately intimate scene between the characters and not just a “man well I suppose they need to fuck, huh.” or male gaze-y “lesbians 🤤” way.

I will be honest and say I don’t like multiverse stuff since it kind of kills the whole “arcane is cannon” thing. I also just don’t love it in general because in recent years it’s been just a cop out for companies to make more money off of IPs (see Marvel) but it makes me want to go back and rewatch s1 again to see if this has always been the plan. I don’t mind Viktor being the wizard that Jayce sees when he is a kid since they tied that up in a way thats really cool. I do think it’s an episode though that, after seeing it a couple of times, is easily skippable since it doesn’t really do a ton for the main plot. Like Ekko gets his Z drive, heimerdinger (i think?) dies, and Jayce discovers the damage hextech can do. Don’t get me wrong, I really like the episode, unfortunately it is just one that I feel like viewers can skip over upon rewatch because of the AU stuff.

Also MEL, I love her storyline with the black rose and I really hope that her putting on the Noxian clothing in the end is an indication that we will get more of her if Riot does a series based in Noxus.

[snippychicke]

It's Just Business Three

YOU THOUGHT I FORGOT? NEVER!

Look at that face! Look!

Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)

Rating: Teen so far

Pairing: Sanji/Reader

Warnings: No real warnings, but god, I hope you like pining

Summary: You felt like you had known Sanji forever, considering your family had been the main merchants Zeff used to supply the Baratie. You had a small crush on him, but knew it was hopeless considering you were the one woman he didn't seem to pine over. 

It was fine. Or so you thought until you ended up on the Going Merry as a bookkeeper and supply manager. Being around him 24/7 was a lot more difficult than just a few days a week.  

(Please note 》°《 denotes a scene in the past while -*- will be a regular scene break. Because yeah, I like my non-linear story telling.)

Masterpost | Ao3

You weren’t unfamiliar with fighting. After all, merchant ships attracted pirates like honey attracted flies. 

But damn, the fishman pirates were really of a different breed. You were on the defensive more than anything, blocking blows and only able to land a few potshots in retaliation. You could feel bruises already blooming from where you got hit, the unsettling feeling of blood trickling from various wounds. 

But you didn’t give up. How could you when the others kept bravely fighting? Zoro’s blades danced in the air with unnatural graces against the other pirates, the man barely waivering despite the fact he still had his massive injuries from Mihawk. And Sanji was far more skilled than yourself considering he trained regularly with Zeff, his long legs proving to be far stronger than they looked.  

Except as much as they fought against Arlong's pirates, the two men were bickering heatedly amongst themselves too - which was not helping anyone except the enemy. 

“Will you two stop fighting!” You snarled as you ended up between the green-hair swordsman and the blond chef--both literally and figuratively. “Beat these assholes and then have at it for all I care, but god damn if we lose I am going to murder you both.”  

Zoro shot you a dark look, as if to silently scoff at the fact you could even hope to beat him - you couldn’t, but you would try your best, god damn it - before he rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the fishmen that were regrouping. 

Sanji however, frowned as he looked you over and stepped closer to wipe blood from your lip. “I told you that you should have stayed back on the ship, or even the village.” 

You glared at him. “The only orders I take are the ones I get paid for,” You shot back. “Just ‘cause you’re stronger than me doesn’t make you my boss.” 

His frown deepened. "That's not what I meant. I just mean you'd be safer back on the Going Merry."

"We all would, but that's not why we came, is it?" You hated the fact he had been right about Nami, but you hated Arlong and his crew more for what they did to the young woman. You had gripped Sanji’s hand tightly when you heard Nami softly ask Luffy for help, full of rage on her behalf for what the bastards had done. He had squeezed back as he took a drag of his cigarette, as if silently promising that you would get revenge on her behalf. 

"I thought you said something about fighting them, not each other," Zoro yelled out, three swords holding back the pirates while you and Sanji argued.  

"Mind your damn own business!" You and Sanji snarled at the green haired swordsman at the same time. 

You were fairly certain you heard Zoro curse you both, swearing something about waiters and bossy women. You ignored his comment as  Sanji darted for one of the gray-skinned fishmen, and you followed suit. 

-*-

It had been a knife in your heart when Sanji greeted Nami so warmly, sounding so elated to see the red-head. 

Yet the fact she passed him and went for Zoro and Usopp made you cackle heartedly despite yourself, going as far as leaning on the dejected man as you tried to calm your laughter. (The mix of the battle high and relief it was over may have made you a bit unusually giggly.)

“It’s not that funny,” He grumbled, though at the same time his arm wrapped around your waist to help steady you. 

“I’m sorry,” You wheezed, pressing your head against his shoulder. “You just… and she didn’t even pause. My poor boy, I don’t think she’s that into you.” 

Sanji was quiet as you calmed yourself, though his arm never left your waist, or even loosened the smallest bit. “Sometimes a woman requires a bit of wooing,” He defended once your laughter died away, making you snort. “Nami’s been through a rough time, so of course she’d run to her friends.” 

You tried to keep the smile on your face despite any trace of humor draining from your heart. He was in deep this time, wasn’t he? 

It was probably a good thing you’d be parting ways, so you didn’t have to watch him try to woo her, as he said. Even if it meant you wouldn’t see him for who knew how long. Or the fact the idiot could die out on the open sea and you would never see him again. Never see the humor in his bright blue eyes, lips twitching in a smile. Never be able to bicker good-naturedly with him, arguing just for the sake of arguing. Or just feel at home with his casual touch--he was one of the very few who you felt safe enough to indulge in that need for physical touch.

Sanji spoke your name softly, drawing you from your thoughts. “You okay?” He asked as you looked up and was able to see worry pinching his eyebrows together. 

You offered a weak smile. “Yeah, just tired all of a sudden. Adrenaline must be wearing off.” 

The concerned expression didn’t leave despite the soft smile on his lips. His thumb rubbed along the curve of your wait reassuringly as he pulled you closer. "Once Luffy's finished, we'll head back and I'll make a big meal, okay? Just hang in there until then. 

Oh, it wasn't the immediate future you were worried about. But you nodded your head nevertheless, and tried to enjoy what short time you had left with your friend before you parted ways. 

~*~

Despite your obvious exhaustion, you assisted with preparing the celebratory meal that night, for which Sanji was thankful. You weren’t exactly one of the line cooks of the Baratie, but you knew enough that he didn’t have to worry once he explained his initial idea of a large stir-fry. 

He was looking forward to more of this; the adventure, fulfilling his dream of finding the All Blue, Zeff’s dream. But also sharing it all with you. Seeing you more than just a few times a week, stealing short moments between both your duties and his.  

The two of you had always been close and had shared a few small (and some not so small) adventures through the years. He couldn’t lie to himself, his feelings for you were far from platonic, but the problem was you thought you knew him too well and never believed he was being serious as he tried to flirt. No matter how close he held you, or how many times he pressed kisses to you head and hand while calling you sweetheart, you thought he was just kidding. That it was all platonic. 

He wasn’t sure how you were going to react when --if-- you ever realized the truth.

》°《

Zeff frowned as he looked down at you and Sanji, both of you out of breath and covered in sweat as you sat back to back. "You two shrimps are pitiful, really."

You grumbled as you leaned against Sanji, trying to catch your breath. He had been beating your ass fairly, though at least you had given him a work out. 

"We've been doing this all afternoon," Sanji shot back, still full of spit and vinegar in his small body despite everything. "Let her have a break, and I'll fight you instead." 

You moved to look at him, confused. He… was defending you? After the fact you were in this position because you had been fighting in the pantry? 

Zeff laughed, his arms crossed in front of his chest that was probably bigger than both you and Sanji combined. "You think you can take me, little eggplant?"

Even with one just a thin pegleg, you knew to challenge Zeff was a death wish. Your parents had told you stories of Red Leg Zeff of the Cook Pirates, likely in an attempt to make you behave when aboard the Baratie.  

Yet despite knowing how harsh Zeff truly could be, Sanji only glared harder. "I'd rather take you than force her to do any more training."

Zeff smirked, though his expression softened.  "You little shit. How about you go scrounge up some lunch for you both and take a rest. And maybe next time you won't be so prone to starting fights." 

The captain-chef turned and left you and Sanji alone on the deck. You groaned as you tried to flop down on the slatted wood, except Sanji wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kept you sitting up. How he still had any energy or strength was beyond you. You felt boneless. Or maybe more like all your bones had been shattered.

"You heard the old bastard," Sanji said as he pulled you up as if you were just an overly large flour bag. "Let's go get you some food."

"God, how do you have energy?" You whined as he helped you back inside. 

"I train at least twice a day, more if I piss the geezer off,” was his grumbled answer. 

What little energy you could spare was used to have a flash of empathy for him; you couldn't imagine having to do this twice a day. "So, you’re Mr. Fancypants in the kitchen and on the battlefield." 

He shot you a smile that looked a lot like Zeff’s when he was somewhat proud of something. "Heh, guess you could say that."