#heart went on a rollercoaster ride

[bl-inded]

Okay but Mohk is such a green flag. It hurt me to watch this episode 😭. Like we've known for a few episodes now that mohk cares deeply for Day. He himself only put words to that feeling this episode.

Call it whatever you want but he is starting to realise this is more. And it hurts because the thing he struggles with most is if he is wanted. The previous episodes even pointed out that he broke up with Porjai because he didn't want to burden her.

With all that in mind the way he treats August is of someone who genuinely believes in Day's happiness. He doesn't assume he knows better. He doesn't assume he's the one who has to "protect" Day. Don't get me wrong, he's protective. he's always there in case he does need him, but he tries to let him fight his own battles.

There is a certain kind of jealousy that always gets glorified in media. And i get it's appeal. But this kind of jealousy - the kind where you want to be the helper (or the match maker as Mohk says). Where you have to be aware of yourself and your place- that speaks to me way more. It's the kind of jealousy where you aren't claiming ownership, but you're wishing you could be their safe space. And if you can't you will make them that safe space even if it's at the cost of your feelings.

Here's the thing though. Mohk is Day's safe space. He's the first person Day looks for when he feels overwhelmed. His absence at the party clearly affected Day too. Mohk is his shoulder to cry on, his narrator, and his eyes. He's someone Day knows he can rely on without feeling like he's being 'taken care of'. And yet.

Honestly. I get it. You do not get over your lifelong crush that easily. Realising your feelings for one person does not automatically get you guidebook on your own feelings. It's hard every time. (And upto this exact moment I was fully ready to defend August and his actions but the "I kissed him coz I pity him" thing really had me seething)

And Jimmy. Sir. The actor that you are. I felt his pain and confusion throughout the episode. The despair, the longing, the butterflies, the desire. Doc. UNFAIIIIRRRR

Based on nothing but the way he was looking at Day in this scene I knew we were getting a kiss. He manages to pack sooooo much emotion in those eyes I was DYING IN ANTICIPATION OVER HERE. I knew Jimmy and Sea were going to ruin us with this series and I was right. Damn.

[archoive]

my god.. forgive me i have sinned but i enjoyed this meal so much 😋 all in the perfect balance….. and as always the detailed writings OMG??? so invested that i can imagine it and turned into a movie in my brain???? 🤯

Divinity for the Damned

“There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin.”

“What sweet bliss it is to follow the teachings of God. To put in your faith and trust wholeheartedly, even if it means getting nothing in return.”

fallen angel! Beomgyu x fem!reader 

Genre: horror, religious au, smut, angst

Word count 18.3K

warnings: i was delirious when i proof read this sorry in advance, very detailed descriptions/elements of the catholic church, mc is super duper religious, and innocent, lots of religious guilt, corrupt church members, assault in one scene, sacrilege and blasphemy i suppose, abuse of power, manipulation, guilt tripping, MCD, slight gore, violence, cannibalism…? aha…

smut warnings: dubcon/coercion, manhandling, mind breaking, corruption, virgin!mc, sub!mc, condescending soft dom!beomgyu, blindfolding/sensory deprivation? dacryphilia, fingering, oral (f. rec) edging, overstimulation, teasing, unprotected sex, creampie. lmk if i should add anything!

notes: hi guys! i have no idea how i got here.

[This story contains dark content. Please read the warnings carefully; I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume.]

The day is wintry and cast with a heavy snow; it is advised for citizens to remain inside due to the extreme weathers, flurries falling outside your bedroom window that is tinted with a frost that creeps from the corners. But it is Sunday morning, and a simple snowfall will do nothing to deter your humble duties. 

Today, you rush to get ready; the layers of clothes on your form make it difficult for you to pull on your snow boots, thick and warm as your fingers fumble to lace and tie the shoes— you’ve begun to feel overheated, but you’re sure all the layers you have on will not go to waste the moment you exit your home. Standing with a huff of exertion, you pull the coat on you just a little bit tighter; with a gloved hand and one final glance at the clock, you finally open your door and make your way out. 

The little village is quiet today. The snow is up to your ankles— it makes the trek to the church a little more difficult than usual, and it’s not as though the gravelly paths were any more helpful. A wind carries flurries into the air, sticking to your clothes and onto your hair— it makes your skin sting and your arms come up to hug yourself instinctually, a hand coming up to rest on your chest, almost able to feel the cross necklace that’s tucked beneath all your clothes— your fingers press against the layers, able to feel the pressure of the delicate charm on your skin. 

Shops are open, but they aren’t very busy; it seems as though the snow has turned the place into a ghost town, and you wonder with a frown if a simple change in weather was enough to make people set aside their duties— in the distance, the tall pinnacles of the church begin to fade into view, a sight of a cross at the very top of each one bringing a sense of relief into your system, like a warmth that floods into your veins. 

There are twenty minutes left before the mass begins. But even so, you note that there are not many others making their way inside— your frown tugs at your lips a little deeper, and you’re too lost in thought to take note of cracked path before you; your foot is catching and you fall to the ground unceremoniously, yelping at the impact and the snow that drenches your tights and dress within seconds. 

Your knees sting; with the multitudes of layers you have on, it’s a lot more difficult to stand— you’re wincing in pain from both the cold and the fall, your gloved hands now soaked as you try to steady them on the ground to help you up; you stumble slightly, the weight of your clothes now doubled as you fall back onto your knees— you huff with frustration, your head hung down in defeat. 

“Excuse me, are you alright?” 

The voice is gentle and melodic; like a song in your ears, breathy, deep and smooth as you look up with surprise, not expecting anyone else to witness your fall— your face is heating up pitifully and your eyes are widening the moment they meet with those of a stranger, a man whose beauty is almost otherworldly; his hair is long and covered with flurries of snowflakes, decorated along his head and in his bangs like a crown— his face is blushing a soft red from the cold and his eyes are filled with concern; briefly, your eyes flicker up to his furrowed brows, taking notice of the scar that decorates his face, reddened and stopping just above his eye, a small deformity on his otherwise perfect face. 

He looks like a prince. 

“I–I’m… I’m fine,” you stutter out, still a bit dumbfounded by this captivating stranger, trying your best to remain composed as you take his outstretched hand for help; his hand is warm— no, it’s hot, even through your gloves— the contrast of temperature startling you for a moment; you try not to show it, much more distracted by the way his grip tightens instantly and he’s pulling you up with a surprising strength, the motion so sudden and unexpected that you’re stumbling out of balance; with a swift hand on the small of your back, the man steadies you. 

“I’ve… never seen you around before,” you say softly, continuing your attempt to remain casual as you shrug his hands off you, taking a step back and trying to ignore the lingering heat his touch left— and you smile politely, hands folded in front of you as you tilt your head. 

“Ah, I moved here recently,” the man explains, sending you a smile that’s just as charming as the rest of him; his eyes scan your sullied outfit, wet with snow and dirty at the knees, and he frowns. “You must be terribly cold. I suggest you go home and change.” 

Your hands are patting your clothes off immediately in response; small clusters of snow that stuck to you fall off with every swat of your hands, attempting to rub at the dirt with your soaked gloves as you merely laugh him off and shake your head— you’re glancing back at the church in the distance, and are suddenly reminded of your responsibility. 

“I’ll be alright, I assure you,” you say softly, doe eyes bright and optimistic, even if he seems doubtful of your words, “I have somewhere I need to be— it’s much warmer in there anyway.”

“Oh?” he says, raising a brow and scanning over your appearance once more, wondering what could possibly require such dedication from you, “may I ask where you’re headed?” 

“Sunday mass,” you say eagerly, your voice sweet and lovely— and though his expression is suddenly unreadable, you remain enthusiastic as you continue, “If you’re not busy, I’d love for you to come— our church is beautiful, you’d get to meet so many amazing people.”

Mass is starting soon— you’re visibly antsy to go inside, yet you remain patient as you wait for the man’s answer— and though you’ve always been used to the polite turn downs from others you’ve offered to in the past, you can’t help but get your hopes up the longer you wait for a response. 

He sighs; it’s soft and would have remained unnoticed under your gaze, except it comes out as a smoky puff of air due to the cold weather— his gaze skirts away from yours, lost in thought for a second, and you can feel yourself deflate as you begin to brace yourself for yet another rejection. But then he glances back at you, lips pursing and gaze taking you in slowly as he begins to speak. “I suppose I can,” he says gently, smiling at the way you’re immediately lighting up again, “I don’t have much else going on today anyway.” 

A smile spreads through your face; you’re trying to control yourself and remain unfazed, but it’s a lot more difficult than you anticipated as you merely nod happily like a puppy— with his soft lead the way, you’re nodding again and taking him to your safe space. 

“You never told me your name,” the man says suddenly, the two of you making your way up the steps to the church— you’re turning to him in surprise, mouth parting in slight shock as you realize that you really didn’t introduce yourselves— and you’re telling him your name softly, your tone a lot shyer than you expected, feeling small under the intense gaze of this handsome stranger. He laughs softly, eyes filled with amusement as he repeats your name back to you— it sounds so captivating and fragile on his lips, and you try to ignore the way the sound sends shivers down your spine. 

“Beomgyu,” he says before you can direct the question back at him— and just like he did for you, you’re testing his name with your own voice, taking his nod of approval with a smile.

Conversation dwindles down the moment the two of you enter the building; it is low in light due to the cloudy day and the candle-lit lanterns that don’t fully light up the large establishment, and a warmth engulfs the two of you the moment the heavy wooden doors shut behind you; sending Beomgyu another encouraging smile, you take him softly by the arm and lead him further inside— you promptly stop at a small basin filled with holy water, dipping three of your fingers in and crossing yourself slowly, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting to mouth an unintelligible words— and while Beomgyu is presumably doing the same, you take this time to say a brief prayer. 

Beomgyu simply watches you with blank eyes. He makes no movements to follow after you, watching apathetically as your brows twitch and your eyes remain shut for a few seconds more, sweeping his gaze over the area as he will his lips to not upturn in distaste— his expression morphs to one of content the moment you’re opening your eyes to look at him again, the only thing to fuel his feet to move being the way your delicate hand squeezes his bicep gently, as though you were leading a scared animal into the unknown— he can’t help but find your mannerisms amusing, filled with an overwhelming innocence he hasn’t seen in a long time. 

As a child, your family moved a lot— going from town to town, your father offered newer and better opportunities due to his trade— and, just like you, your family remained dedicated during it all, never failing to find a church to become a part of, a place to spend their Sundays and worship their God. Because of this, you’ve seen and been in more churches than you can keep track of; able to take in different interiors and atmospheres, different communities and sermons— yet, despite attending more churches than this whole town combined, you’ve found that the one you currently stand in cannot even bear to rival the others— it is wholeheartedly your favorite. 

Nothing quite compares to the feeling of warmth and comfort this quaint building brings you, from the friendly smiles others in the community send you the moment they see you, to the smell of incense and flowers that fills your nose the further you walk down the nave, automatically going to your usual pew closest to the altar; the spot is basically reserved for you at this point, anyone who has come to this church at least once knowing that the third pew away from the altar is your favorite spot. 

Beomgyu trails a little behind you. A little hesitant, you think— it must be difficult being thrust into such a new environment so suddenly, and you’re stopping in your tracks to turn around and reach for him with a kind smile. 

He seems startled by your sudden gesture. His expression is completely lightening up within seconds, and if you hadn’t been dreadfully nervous to offer him your hand so you could walk together, you would have been able to pinpoint the clear scorn in his gaze— instead, all you’re able to see is the way his brows raise in surprise and his gaze turns warm, smiling fondly as he takes your hand; he tucks it snuggly in the crook of his arm before he’s nodding at you to continue walking. 

You’re suddenly much more aware of the eyes pinned on you— you’re sure many must be surprised to see you with someone new, always used to you coming in early and quietly, head bowed down and mind already lost in prayer— and in this condition nonetheless, your body heating up slightly as you stare down at the ghastly state of your clothes. 

“Relax,” Beomgyu suspires, leaning close to your ear so only the two of you can hear his words; his other hand reaches to place itself over your gloved hand, and again, you can feel the heat of his touch permeating through the wool. “You look lovely. A bit of snow or dirt could never take away from your beauty.”

His sudden compliment has your face heating up and reacting drastically; you can only squeak out a flustered oh, in response, unable to do much more than look in the opposite direction and stare at the scarlet rug that rolls down the nave— and you’re arriving at your usual spot, close enough to the altar that you’re bowing in respect— stiffly, Beomgyu is pulled down with you; his jaw clenches at the action. 

The sermon begins as usual and proceeds as it always does— though, with Beomgyu at your side, you seem to have garnered quite a lot of attention to you; from others around you eagerly wanting to wish you and Beomgyu peace, shaking his hand firmly and with looking up at him with awe-stricken eyes, to the priest’s gaze that inevitably falls back onto the two of you again and again, not used to the scrutiny in his eyes as you flush with heat at the sudden realization of what others might be assuming the two of you are— as subtly as possible, you try to make space between the two of you, using the armrest of the pew as your excuse to scoot away as you try your best to remain inconspicuous, pretending to get comfortable and resting your arm against it. 

Beomgyu doesn’t seem to pick up on your particular train of thought— he’s sending you a curious glance before he’s closing the space between the two of you again, feeling the way your body stiffens and your back straightens the moment you feel him against you, thigh against thigh; the small pressure of his body against yours enough to have you flustering pathetically, lips pressing together as you try to keep your expression neutral. 

But if there’s one thing Beomgyu has learned about you from the short time he’s gotten to know you, it’s that you’re undeniably terrible at keeping a poker face; all your thoughts are written across your expression clear as day and seep into your body language— anyone who has you in their line of sight would be able to immediately pick up on your flustered and shy state. 

You’re such an innocent little thing; like a lamb, Beomgyu thinks, gaze visibly boring into your side profile as you attempt to pretend as though you’re unaware of it, even if the nervous fiddling of your fingers gives you away. There’s an air of purity around you that is simply enticing, unable to pretend as though he isn’t endeared to you the moment you finally break and turn to look at him once it is time to receive the eucharist, bright, wide eyes silently asking if he’ll join you— he shakes his head no gently, and you’re nodding in understanding before you finally scurry away to get in line. 

Your heart is pounding; you’ve never thought a man could have such an effect on you, your poor brain confused and running laps to try to reason why you can’t even keep eye contact with him for more than a second— you’ve just met him, just a little bit ago, yet even so you can’t help but feel a strange pull toward him, undeniably charmed by both his looks and soothing aura— your hand goes to place itself onto your heart, a weak attempt to steady it’s erratic beating. The charm of your necklace presses against your skin, and as it nears to be your turn, you pray for your heart to have more resilience. 

“The Body of Christ.” 

Beomgyu watches as you stand dutifully before the priest. He watches as the older man stares down at you with an intense gaze, one that seems to hold silent disappointment; he watches as the priest looks back at him, their eyes meeting and his gaze hardening before it falls back onto you— with a twisted realization, Beomgyu realizes where this emotion stems from. 

The priest is careful with you, hand reaching out to slowly place the Eucharist on your awaiting tongue; he’s gentle, as though you were made of nothing but glass, gaze following you even after you’re long gone. 

You’re walking back with your hands clasped together and your eyes downcast, undoubtedly lost in prayer again. But even so, you can’t help but sneak a glance at Beomgyu once more, relieved to see his eyes weren’t on you already this time— instead, he’s watching the priest acutely, observing and analyzing his every move— and you feel star-struck by his beauty yet again. 

The day outside must have cleared more; at least, that must be the case if there is light shining through the stained glass windows, myriads of colors casting themselves on the floors and the people around you— Beomgyu is not an exception to this, entranced with the sharp reds, purples and blues that cast onto his delicate skin, making his appearance seem more otherworldly than it already was. 

His brows furrow. Part of his face is lit up with a faint red from the window, hitting his right eye and the scar above it��� suddenly, his eyes are flickering back to meet yours, and you’re jumping slightly in surprise; his eye is practically glowing. 

Your gaze becomes downcast again. You try to ignore the feeling of him watching as you kneel down and begin your prayer once more, staring at the altar and at the captivating marble statues, eyes falling onto the candles that hypnotize you by its flickering flame, lost in thought as the taste of wine that lingers on your tongue becomes the only thing you’re still aware of. 

Beomgyu makes no attempts to conceal his desperation to leave the moment mass is over. His goodbyes are brief and he manages to pull you along, simply because you’d feel bad if you didn’t accompany him out. You’re almost out the front doors, so close to leaving, only to be stopped the moment you’re stepping outside, not expecting the priest to slip out of the doors behind you, calling out your name and asking you to wait; obedient as always, you’re practically frozen on the steps of the church— Beomgyu doesn’t bother to hide the clear distaste on his face as he hears the priest ask for a word with you; in private. 

Without hesitation, you’re scurrying up the steps and meekly asking Beomgyu if he was going to stay— you can’t help but be surprised at the immediate nod of his head in response. 

“Lovely seeing you today. Like always,” the priest says, sending you a fond smile that you eagerly return; he’s taking a step close to you, voice lowering slightly as he continues. “This is the first time I’ve seen you attend with someone else.”

“Ah,” you say quietly, evidently flustered by the breach of this subject; you’re turning away from him to glance back at Beomgyu, who sends you a small smile the moment your eyes meet. “I met him this morning— he aided me when I fell, and agreed to join me when I invited him to today’s mass.”

The priest frowns. You’re taken aback by the clear disapproval in his eyes, blinking owlishly as you silently question what’s wrong— the priest is taking another step closer to you, his brows pinched together and his voice cautious as he speaks. 

“My child,” he begins carefully, taking in your wide and curious eyes as he warns you, “It is admirable of you to spread God’s word so dutifully. I admire your devotion to both our Lord and this community.” 

“However,” he says solemnly, “I advise you to be very careful. You have only just met him after all.”

The two of you glance back at Beomgyu, who leans against the stairway with a blank expression, staring out at the snowy scenery before him as he waits for the two of you to finish; he can feel your stares on him, but he doesn’t bother to look back, already knowing where this conversation must be headed. 

“Oh Father,” you say softly, giving him a reassuring smile, “you shouldn’t worry, I know how to handle myself.”

And, Beomgyu has been nothing but kind to you, you think to yourself, though you know better than to rely solely on the limited hours you’ve spent together. 

“Of course. Though you can’t blame me for being concerned,” he says, taking yet another step closer to you— the space between you is limited now, and you’re unable to stop the way you retreat subconsciously in response.

“I wouldn’t want anything to happen to,” he reaches up to place a hand on your shoulder, heavy and making you stiffen at the sudden contact; it remains there, thumb rubbing soft circles on your coat, “such a dedicated servant of God. It is my duty to protect you, child.” 

He is reluctant to let you go. You breathe out a soft laugh and smile, taking another step back and watching as his hand slides down your arm, his touch lingering and grabbing at your hand momentarily; he squeezes it in an attempt to give you reassurance, and you nod. 

“I understand,” you say quietly, pulling your hands in close to your chest, clasping them together as you take another step back, “I must leave now, Father.”

His lips press, as though disappointed to see you leave to soon— but then he nods in understanding, wishing you a blessed day and encouraging you to stop by anytime; you nod, bidding him one last goodbye before you’re turning around and descending the stairs— you miss the way his eyes harden and his brows knit together the second they meet Beomgyu’s, lips pressed to a thin line as he watches the two of you for a moment more. 

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” you say meekly, feeling a smile grow on your face the moment Beomgyu simply shakes his head in reassurance, boldly taking your hand and placing it in the crook of his arm once again; a gesture that has your body warming up as much as his touch warms you, allowing him to pull you close to him as you walk away— he allows you to speak about whatever is on your mind, listening intently as he glances back at the church one final time. 

At the top of the stairway, the priest remains, watching. Beomgyu is unfazed at the sight, and instead of returning the harsh glare the older man sends him, his lips curl into a smile— wide and wicked, showing off his perfect teeth and sharp canines that adorn his mouth, confusing the man before him— and his expression switches in the blink of an eye the moment you squeeze at his bicep subconsciously to get his attention as you speak, leaning in to ask what he thought of today’s mass. 

“It was lovely,” Beomgyu says smoothly, eyes crinkling into a fond and kind smile. You’re returning the smile without hesitation, feeling as though it’s become second nature to your being now. 

“I think I’ll be seeing you around more.”

  ≪⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  

The two of you part ways once you’ve reached the center of town. Beomgyu tells you he has somewhere he needs to be, and you explain that you still have a few errands to do; with the promise to see each other again soon, you’re reluctantly bidding him goodbye. 

He asked if you’d be willing to show him around the town a bit more; if you’d like to show him your favorite places to eat and visit— you told him yes in a heartbeat. 

With new promising plans with this handsome stranger, you felt lighter on your feet— a giddiness that undoubtedly was written all over your face, laughing shyly at the remarks others would give in regards to your good mood; and though the trek back to your little cottage on the outskirts of town was a long one, you didn’t seem to particularly mind it today. 

The rest of your day is quiet; peaceful like always, not a soul stopping by to interrupt your day. You’ve fallen back into routine, and with your sudden encounter with Beomgyu earlier, you’ve begun to realize how mundane your everyday life is— you’re suddenly antsy, waiting anxiously for the day to bleed into the next so you’re able to see him again. 

Night falls and you have yet to forget about him. Beomgyu’s soft gaze and kind smile, the way he hovered over you and humored your spontaneous offer to join you— his touch that warmed you through your layers of clothing and left your body hot and flustered. 

This sudden change in your train of thought has you snapping back to reality; your eyes are blinking into focus and you’re now hyper-aware of the hot water that runs over your skin, the dishes in your hands that you had absentmindedly been washing— and you’re straightening up to stare out your window, feeling a breeze slip through the small opening and hit your warm face; you definitely need it, you think to yourself, scolding yourself for thinking of such scandalous things about a man you just met. 

You think you’ll go to bed early; with the final dish placed on your drying rack, you’re off to your bathroom, washing up before you make your way into the bedroom, slipping into nothing more but a thin nightgown; the moonlight casts a glow on your figure as you change, already feeling sleep weigh your eyes as the soft silk of your gown brushes against your skin. 

Your bed feels a lot more comfortable than usual; your body is more tired than you realized. The blankets weigh down on you securely, and any restless thought seems to dissolve in your mind the moment your head is resting against your soft pillows— for the first time in a long, long time, you’re able to achieve a peaceful, immediate slumber. 

Poor thing; today’s events must have truly exhausted you. After all, being around a demon for such a long time takes a lot of energy. 

Beomgyu watches the soft rise and fall of your chest with fond eyes and a small smile. He thinks that the moonlight casts a truly angelic glow on your face, unaware and peaceful to the dangers around you— not much of a difference from your awake self, the man muses.

The energy you emit is as pure as the light in your eyes; innocent, untainted by the horrors of the world. Unlike the rest of this town and their putrid thoughts, their intentions to rip you apart and force you to stoop as low as them, you’ve remained the same: devoted to your God, devoted to live an honest and peaceful life— your being is nothing short of angelic, and Beomgyu has found himself addicted to it. 

He’s weakened— you remind him of the life he used to live, the person he once was before he gave in to the beauty of temptation, ensnared for eternity to the carnal sin that allowed him to reject the teachings of his god. He’s lived this life longer than he can remember, memories of pure beings and a light heart long gone; it’s instead been replaced by an insatiable hunger and instincts that led him to you. 

Beomgyu wasn’t supposed to find himself here, he supposed. Damned to nothing but a void of flames that seared and marred his skin, to be given bodies of those who shared the same sin as him— indulging in his cravings, but never truly satiating them, just enough to keep his soul hooked and coming back for more, a constant cycle of addiction and hunger and desire. 

But this is — you are — different. Just being near you is enough to get Beomgyu’s heart racing, his body buzzing with a slight nervous energy that begs to just touch you, to take you, to use you. His body is weak, drained from its descent from the heavens and its unexpected escape from his perpetual state of limbo, from his punishment. His bones ache and his skin begs to be with you, his soul guiding the rest of him to find you; just one night with you could keep him strong for eons. 

Such a cruel hand life has given you. Because now that Beomgyu has found you, he’s made a silent vow to not let you escape from his hands; you’re the perfect prey, innocent and trusting and charmed by the closest thing to ever be graced by God's presence. 

He closes his eyes, and hones in on your energy— to properly entangle you in clutches, Beomgyu must begin to plant the seeds in your mind; seeds of doubt and want, seeds that will allow you to see the world as is and bring you into his awaiting, protecting arms. 

After a moment, he finally feels it; the soft beating of your heart, the aura that hums like an enticing melody. Deep breaths bring a slow rise and fall to his chest, allowing it to match the rhythm of your own. A harmony is created between the two, and only then does Beomgyu finally feel it— your mind is inviting him in. He suppresses the triumphant smile that makes his lips twitch. 

Declining such an offer would be quite rude, wouldn’t it?

  ≪⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  

You wake with a start. 

Your chest feels as though it might cave in and your gown sticks to your skin in an unbearable way, your body exuding so much heat that you’ve found yourself covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mind is racing, you feel as though your heart is ready to burst out of your chest— what happened, why do you feel like this? 

It takes a minute before everything else floods back in. A wave of shame and horror washes over you, searingly hot against your skin as you find yourself throwing the covers of your bed off your body, reaching over at your nightstand instinctively and kneeling at your bedside; your hands shake slightly as you try to ground yourself with the feeling of the rosary beads against your palms.

Prayers leave your lips like a waterfall; attempting to forget the dream— the nightmare— that your mind conjured, surely nothing but a test of faith and temptation to make you stray from the path you painstakingly set up for yourself. 

The beads of the rosary dig deeper into your palms. Your hands press tighter together, your face screwed into a frown of concentration, attempting to rid yourself of the way your mind seems to want to do nothing but wander. Wander to the foreign feeling of a hand gliding against your skin, a smooth path along your bare back and chest, lips that caressed your neck and whispered nothing but praises and promises of divinity and eternal life.

A shudder rips through your body like an earthquake. You must rid yourself of these thoughts. 

Your will is strong, but the temptation is stronger; it sings memories and images from your nightmare, appearing at the most inconvenient moments and making your every movement falter— when you change, vibrant images and raw skin replacing the sight of your body in the mirror with one of pure lust and sin, when you prepare to go out, tucking the rosary safely underneath your layers of clothes, and as you spot Beomgyu in the distance, waving at you with a kind smile on his face; shame bubbles hotly beneath your skin, and you hope that the man who asks you to lead the way with bright eyes simply blames the flustered look of your face on the cold, the pure snow around you. 

“You must be cold,” Beomgyu muses softly, turning to you and suddenly cupping your face; wide eyes meet his as you merely remain still, unsure of what to do as the feeling of his hot hands cupping your flushed skin only make it burn hotter, embarrassment eating you up as his brows twitch at the feeling; he raises a brow, tilting his head in confusion as he inspects you slowly. “Or… perhaps not? Your face is burning.”

“I’m so sorry,” you manage to spit out, taking a step away from him and averting his gaze entirely, hands pressed firmly against your pounding heart, “I’m sorry if I seem to be acting strange, I’m not sure what has gotten into me.” 

Beomgyu shakes his head softly, brows knitted together with worry— oh, you must seem to have lost it, you think to yourself, biting your lip and attempting to brush off your skittish behavior with a soft laugh, Beomgyu must find you strange now.

And whilst Beomgyu continues to feign concern for you, brushing off all your apologies and maintaining a curious facade, his body practically buzzes with excitement; poor, innocent thing, one simple dream was enough to bring you right to where he wanted you— one dream was enough to fluster and break down the solid fortitude you once set up for yourself, the man before you catching you so off guard that you never had a moment to question the sudden turn of events; he had you right where he wanted you, smiling to himself at the way you could barely maintain eye-contact before you were flustering and looking away. 

You told yourself it would pass with time. But hours fly by with Beomgyu and nothing changes— if anything, everything simply got much, much worse— the man seemed to have found solace within you, getting comfortable and finding confidence in being subtly affectionate with you; holding your hand and pulling you along to show you something, brushing the corner of your mouth and teasing you for being such a messy eater, and holding a firm hand at the small of your back while you walked— you couldn’t pretend to be unaware of everyone’s stares even if you tried. 

“Such a small town, isn’t it?” Beomgyu muses to you, taking in the scenery, the people that wander the streets; he finds his eyes meeting with every person they land on, holding back a sneer at the way their stares linger with fascination, landing on you with a myriad of emotions: envy, lust, disdain, he sees it all. “I feel like there’s someone watching us at all times.”

“Oh, I suppose,” you say sheepishly, as though you were the one to blame for his discomfort, “I apologize, I had no idea it would be this busy today— but it’s natural to be curious, I know they mean well.”

Beomgyu nods thoughtfully at your claim; surely, there’s only so much innocence you can harbor before it begins to become naivety— do you really believe such lies? But of course, you’re filled with nothing but surprises, the clear look in your eyes telling him that your words are more for you to believe than him. 

When the sun is beginning to set and the street lamps are beginning to get lit up, Beomgyu sees your mood flip like a switch; you’re getting antsy, you must want to leave soon. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what might be going on in your mind at the moment. 

“You must be tired,” Beomgyu says, slowing to a stop before turning to face you; you led him to one of your favorite parks, taking him into the maze of a garden and along your favorite trail, the light and excitement in your face enough to make the scenery around him seem dull.

You look like a deer caught in headlights at his words; was it so obvious? You stammer and try to sugarcoat how you feel unsure of how to tell him that you want to leave now, not because you’re tired of his presence, but because you feel as though you’re not in your right mind at the moment. 

Oh, how could you possibly tell him that the reason you must leave soon is because you feel a nauseating urge to repent? That, as soon as you say your final goodbyes, smiling shyly and turning around to walk away from him with a haste, you’re going to make your way straight to the church? The night is cold but your body is far from it, face burning with shame as you walk into your sanctuary with a haste, unsure of how to deal with the fact that you’re thinking very impure thoughts over a man you’ve just met; the very reminder is enough to make your stomach lurch once more. 

The warmth of the building doesn’t feel as welcoming anymore; it only makes your body hotter, breaking out with a light sweat as you slowly approach the basin of holy water, dipping your fingers in and slowly crossing yourself— you take a deep breath, ignoring the flames of shame that eat at you as you walk inside. 

The confessional is just by the entrance, at the very end of the left wall and tucked in safely from any private eyes. The velvet curtain beckons you, and as you rush over in a haste, you can’t bring yourself to catch eyes with the priest that stands by the altar, having caught sight of you immediately— there was no one else that would come here so late at night but you. 

You sit at the very edge of your seat, hunched over and staring at your lap as you wait. You can feel the heat of the single lightbulb above you on your back, searing into your nape as you pick at your nails anxiously. It feels like time has frozen within this small booth you’ve cooped yourself in, the heat of it all only making you more restless as you wait, head ducked down in shame, much too afraid to look into the screen that separates you from the only other person that will ever know about the dark thoughts that plague you.

After what feels like an eternity, you hear footsteps approaching; you peek up instinctively, just in time to watch the velvet curtain on the other side get pushed open— your head goes back down hurriedly.

It’s not too often you come into the confessional, but you still find yourself doing the routine like you were born to do so. Your hand crosses yourself dutifully, licking nervously at your dry lips that part to speak— your voice feels timid and broken, the words you speak heavy on your tongue. 

“Bless me father, for I have sinned.”

It’s been about four weeks since you last confessed, you tell him, wringing your hands together as you attempt to find the words to say, feeling as though a heavy lump in your throat prevents you from expressing the truth; it’s too much, you find yourself thinking, the burden and shame of it all bringing a heat to your cheeks, reluctant to voice your sins aloud. Moments pass and you have said nothing, but the priest on the other side remains patient— the silence and the heat of his stare through the screen only makes you more aware of the guilt that sits in your stomach. 

“Father, I don’t know what to do,” you sob softly, the dam finally breaking in one, swift motion; words spill from your lips with abandon, unable to keep track of what to say as you scoot close to the screen, barely on your seat as you lean your forehead against the cool wood.

“I have restrained myself all my life, I’ve avoided the temptation that is thrown my way, the dangers presented to me— I’ve remained strong— yet…” you swallow thickly, a shuddered sigh leaving your lips as your hands brace themselves against the screen; your palms press against the sturdy structure, a false sense of security as you hesitate to say the words you’re about to admit, “yet— these past few days I’ve been plagued with nothing but thoughts of lust. Of blasphemy.” 

For a moment, there’s only silence. Memories seem to bubble up from the confession, detailed and vivid, playing against your eyes that screw shut as though in pain. 

It’s all wrong. So, so so wrong, the warm feelings that stir within unfamiliar as you remember all the thoughts that fill your mind throughout the day. 

“It’s unlike me— I’ve never found myself to think anything so crude, so immoral,” you say, hanging your head with shame, “Yet I find that I cannot stop. Father, I’ve prayed and I’ve remained abstinent, but the thought that I fear the most is the one… that makes me doubt whether I’m on the right path.”

On the other side of the screen, you’re faintly able to make out his figure shifting. Your hesitation is evident as you finally admit something you hadn’t been able to accept yourself. 

“Father, I’m afraid that I’ll give in.”

More silence follows. You’re sure that the priest must be in deep thought on the other side, but the silence only seems to make you more anxious; how low you’ve come, a voice within you chides, wanting to throw away your purity for a man you’ve just only just met. How vile.

The voice is cold and blunt and unlike your own— the sudden thought startles you, your spine straightening as you look around you, a shiver going throughout your body. Inevitably, you look through the screen once more. On the other side, you’re able to see the faint image of the priest, his head hanging and lost in thought. 

You feel as though you’re in a daze for the rest of your time there; you can only nod softly with every piece of advice he offers you, telling you to remain strong and trust that your faith in God will guide you to the right path— he tells you to pray, to devote yourself to the church in any way you can, your penance weighing your heart as you agree to it all. 

“My child, be aware that this is another test of your faith. You mustn’t give in,” he finally says, stopping you in your motion to leave, “You are a pure flower, bound to attract others who do not have your best interest in mind.”

Hesitantly, you nod, unsure if you’re deserving of this praise he sings to you.

“If you ever find yourself in doubt, know that you can always come to me.”

There’s an odd feeling that blooms within you at his words; you know you should feel comforted, honored to have someone to support you in your time of need, but instead you can only muster a wry smile, whispering a soft of course before you’re exiting the booth in a haste. 

Glancing behind you, you’re reassured to see that the priest has yet to come out; you don’t think you could face him any time soon, knowing that despite the anonymity of the booth, your identity is quite obvious. 

No one else resides in the church as you make your way down the nave and down to your usual spot. Your footsteps feel heavy on the rug as you stand before the altar, head tilted up to be able to take it all in properly; the marble statues that look as though they might come to life, the angels that bow down and the intricate details that go to frame the cross in the middle— you stare up at the altar for what feels like hours, the guilt in your heart weighing you as you take a deep bow and go to sit. 

Your mind is calm, but your heart is restless; you pray for forgiveness and plead to not be led astray, yet something within you itches to do just that— a tug at your heart, wondering what it would be like to indulge yourself for once— you’ve seen the other members of your church, the way they comply and worship yet change in the blink of an eye once they’re out of this sanctuary— so, would it really be that bad? You’ve seen their actions, know their hearts; they treat you so kindly, worship your lord so devoutly— so, is it really unjust for you to do the same?

Your nails dig deep into your skin, a way to snap yourself out of that train of thought, scolding yourself for thinking this way of others around you— for attempting to reason with the whispers of temptation that attempt to lure you. 

How long you spend lost in thought is unknown to you— minutes, maybe hours, your knees sore and your clasped hands clammy as you rest your forehead against them, eyes screwed shut and lost in prayer; it was a meditation of sorts, finally able to cast out straying tangents and focus on one thing. Your breathing is slow, tired, your body slowly giving in to the exhaustion, muscles weighing you down as you continue to pray— it isn’t until you’ve found yourself about to doze off that you realize you must leave. 

When you stand, you’re shaken awake instantly. You could’ve sworn you’d be the only one left in the building by now, yet the priest still lingers by the altar, tending to the candles and shifting about— the smile you send when he glances behind curiously and meets your eyes must seem as ingenuine as it feels, because you see his expression fall instantly. 

It’s important to rest. You must be seeing things, you think, tightening your coat around you before you’re stepping out of your pew and turning to leave— your steps are unconsciously haste, your arms that wrap around yourself unnaturally tight, yet you still flinch the moment your name is being called— softly, but still echoing throughout the building. 

You find yourself feeling reluctant as you turn. Your words are timid as you address him.

“Yes Father?”

Upon your surprise, he is not too far from you— as though he had been mere steps behind, wanting to close the gap between you two as he continues to move forward; he sends you a soft smile, head tilting in curiosity and brows furrowing in worry as he speaks. 

“My dear, are you leaving? At this hour?” he asks, watching you nod meekly, “But it is so dangerous; it is far too cold and dark for someone like you to be out alone.”

Sheepishly, you smile, hands wringing themselves without you realizing.

“It’s quite alright, Father. I’m stronger than you think.”

The soft laugh he lets out is meant to be lighthearted, though you can’t help but think it’s one of disbelief instead. 

“I’m sure, but you must understand my concern; to let you leave alone like this would be wrong of me.” His smile is fond as he steps closer to you, gesturing behind him as he proposes, “Why don’t you stay here for the night? It’d be much safer.”

“Oh, thank you Father, but I think it’d be better for me to go to my home instead,” you say softly, pressing your hands firmly against your beating heart, “I have a busy day tomorrow, and I don’t think it’d be wise to rest on the pews.” 

He laughs again, shaking his head in amusement; your brows knit together in slight confusion, laughing along hesitantly nonetheless.

“Of course my dear,” he starts, your smile widening in hopes that he’s giving up this small fight, “but that’s not what I was referring to.”

“I meant that you should rest here tonight,” he repeats again, voice softening as he continues, “with me.”

Your eyes widen in shock— it’s painted all over your face as well, unsure of what to make of his sudden offer as you resort to letting out an incredulous laugh instead. 

“Oh Father, I couldn’t possibly—” you gulp, softening your tone at the sight of his confused face, “It– it wouldn’t be right. I mustn’t disturb you.” 

“But you wouldn’t be disturbing at all,” he insists, taking a step toward you, talking animatedly with his hands as he does, “I’m inviting you, afterall, I’d love the company— it does get lonely sometimes, I must admit.”

You attempt to maintain a look of understanding, nodding along to his every word— but you remain firm in your stance regardless as you respond. 

“I understand, and I truly do appreciate the offer,” you try again, beginning to walk back despite the slow souring of his face, “but, even so, I really must leave—”

“Why?” he suddenly interrupts, his voice sharp and his expression cold, “why are you so insistent on leaving?”

“I’m tired, is all—”

“Lies.” he shuts you down again. “All of it. For if you were true to your word, you’d have no issue accepting my offer to accommodate you.”

Shaking your head, you shrink within yourself, shoulders caving in as he begins following your steps— you attempt to give him reason, to be polite and kind, yet he hears none of it. 

“You come to plead for forgiveness yet are so quick to run back to your old ways,” he says, his every step like a resounding boom in your mind— you deny him adamantly again, but all you get in response is a cold look. 

It seems as though you’ve nowhere to go— the doors had been shut due to the cold and your back presses against it, but before you can reach for the handle and open your only exit, you find yourself trapped— the priest’s hand is heavy as it slams on the handle, the loud sound causing you to jump and yelp in surprise. 

“Can’t you see? I only want what’s best for you,” you feel as though you might merge with the wood of the door as you press yourself to it, eyes glued to the floor in an attempt to escape the cruel wrath of the priest that towers above you, spitting words of discipline, “It’s dangerous for you out there. You haven’t the slightest idea what would happen to you if you were found like this— alone, helpless, defenseless.”

“I have gone out of my way to provide you shelter, yet you refuse; I know what it is you’re truly adamant to get back to,” he grits, as though it pained him to say— his eyes narrow, watching as you merely tremble and refuse to look at him, finding himself tired of you not meeting his eye— the cry you let out is insignificant as he takes hold of your shoulders, shaking you and crouching down to meet your face. 

“And I will not have you whoring yourself out to another man! ” Your eyes are screwed shut now, tears threatening to flow down as you reach for the hands on your shoulders, attempting to pry them off— he pays no mind to your attempts, continuing to scream in your face until you find that you can withstand no more. 

“Please! Let me go!” 

Your chest heaves. Your wide eyes are brimming with tears and your legs are shaking terribly, just like your hands that have just shoved the priest off you; he seems just as shocked as you are, mouth parted in surprise before he finally goes to regain his composure.

“I-I’m so sorry Father, I–” your voice breaks and you feel the hot streams of tears on your cheeks, a trembling hand reaching behind you in search of the handle— when you find it, you immediately pull it open. 

“I–I— I must go, I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I didn’t mean it, I’m so—”

“You do not deserve to be deflowered and tainted by the evils of this world,” the priest says, his voice hoarse and stopping you effortlessly in your tracks; he doesn’t bother looking at you anymore, staring at your feet with a pinched expression of frustration instead. “But if that is what your blasphemous heart truly desires, then so be it.”

When his head raises and his eyes meet yours, you’re stunned— his eyes shine, a forlorn look settled within them. 

“You were so perfect, my child,” he says softly, frowning at the fear in your eyes, the heavy heaving of your chest, “you were divine.”

“May God have mercy on your soul.”

Brows furrowing together, you deny him one last time— this time, he simply watches as you slip out the door, fleeing with sharp steps and sobbing quietly into your hands, cheeks stinging from the cold. 

The path before you is dim— the trek to your home is long. Without realizing, you think of the priest’s warnings, tears an endless stream as you part your lips in a soft whisper. 

“Oh Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection…”

Through the long journey back to your way home, you sob and you pray. By the top steps of the church, hidden by the columns and tucked safely into the darkness, Beomgyu watches. He watches until your figure is nothing but a small speck against the vast landscape of the town, your trembling body and the echoes of your soft sobs ingrained into his mind. 

Slowly, he turns back to look at the doors, into the small sliver of warm light provided by your failure to close the door properly. 

His eyes catch movement; a grin grows on his face.

  ≪⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  

Tonight, it seems as though your heart and your mind have finally conceded. Tonight, you dream deeply. 

In your dreams, it is all a haze; you’ve found yourself within the holy sanctuary once more, slowly making your way down the nave, past the crowded pews of hooded figures with their heads ducked down, hands folded dutifully in front of you and your eyes pinned straight ahead. The altar beckons you, the thickened, incensed air bringing a calm through your system as you walk. You walk and you walk, eyes pinned on the cross that looms over you. 

The path seems to warp— the nave seems never-ending, the carpet slowly becoming worn and darkened with every step you take— your heart beats a little faster now, nails digging into your skin with a subconscious tension; yet you continue to walk, whether you want to or not. 

Everything feels so heavy. You feel lethargic and dizzy, feeling as though submerged underwater, limbs moving oh so slowly; the room around you has begun to darken, unable to halt your trek down to the altar no matter how much you try— everything has begun to fade to black, the pews of people turning to dust, the carpet beneath you disappearing beneath your feet— the only thing that remains steady is the altar in front of you and the steps you take. 

You can’t breathe— have you been breathing at all? It’s a fleeting thought that crosses your mind, the burning of your lungs and the pressure on your chest sudden and alarming— the smell of incense no longer enters your system, but you can still feel the air thicken around you; somehow, your eyes remain wide open through it all, stuck onto the mesmerizing, pure altar that remains on its fixed point in the distance. 

It feels as though hours have passed, and you’ve yet to make any progress. Your body remains still as the darkness around you. Just when you’ve begun to wonder if there will ever be any end in sight, something changes. 

It’s subtle, at first— you think it might just be a trick of the mind. The very edges of the altar have started to fade into the darkness, the sharp edges of the pure, white marble statues turning fuzzy— the wings of the angels, the top of the cross, the podium that holds it all up— it’s fading into the abyss, becoming one with the eternal nothingness around you— and as much as you feel yourself panic, wanting to speed your pace, break into a run in a weak attempt to stop it— you can’t. The sound of your steps is like a metronome in your ears, falling against the void and keeping you still. All you can do is watch. 

Your eyes remain wide open throughout it all. Your dress sways with every step you take, your body not realizing that soon enough, you’ll be walking towards nothing. The faces of the angel’s are now fading into obscurity, the darkness prickling at Jesus’ nailed hands and thorned crown; your heart hammers against your chest, forced to watch as it pools around Mary’s feet. 

The few remnants of the holy altar are slowly being swallowed by this strange darkness; sorrow fills your weak being, wondering why it is that your body continues to walk forward— there is nothing left to go to, the last of Mary’s bowed body getting lost into the abyss— and as your eyes scan her smooth, marble complexion, you catch on a single crimson tear, welling up at the inner corner of her eye, able to watch it grow as though you were standing inches before it— it grows and grows, until it can no longer stay still. The path it runs down the smoothness of her cheeks is striking, a sharp trail left behind as it drips off into nothing. 

The last of her fades away. 

There is nothing but darkness ahead of you; even so, you continue forward. Your mind has emptied, body becoming lax as the steps you take become effortless, light, like walking on air. Your eyelids feel heavy with sleep, the haze in your brain returning twice as strong. 

You can feel yourself walking, but you cannot see anything; not even yourself. A voice within wonders if you might be left to walk forever, towards an end goal that will never show itself to you. 

Come to me. 

Despite your shock, you do not halt. The voice is soft and sweet, like dripping honey— it’s only three words, but even so, you find yourself entranced, following the command even if you’re unsure whether you’re going the right direction. 

Closer, come. 

The voice beckons you so effortlessly, like a leash that wraps around your figure, pulling you forward, following your instinct to continue to walk, to explore what it is that calls to you so sweetly. 

Unlike the altar that has now been lost on your once worried mind, something has begun to fade into view. It is soft and hazy, with a slight glow that hurts your eyes— unable to make out what it is you’re now making your way towards, eyes dilating and adjusting slowly. 

A bright, ruffled shirt, a corset that’s tied tightly, long flowing sleeves covering the hands that rest leisurely at their sides; your gaze is quick to sweep up their appearance, a quick observation before you move onto what tugs at your curiosity the most— only to find that their face remains obscured by the darkness, a slight blur of what could be registering in your mind— you think you see soft, plump lips that curl into a reassuring smile, but it might be wishful thinking, if anything at all. 

Slowly, they raise a hand— calling you closer, the path beneath you finally beginning to shrink with each step you take— their fingertips outstretched toward you, as though expecting you to do the same. And even when you fail to mirror their actions, they refuse to falter, accepting you as you are. 

It is only when you stand before them that your body finally stops. Your face expressionless as you observe the person in front of you carefully, oddly hesitant to accept their offer. You stand for a moment, left in a standstill as the figure lets out a soft, echoing laugh. 

Do not be afraid, they tell you, their words wrapping around you warmly, take my hand. 

You blink. Your body suddenly feels like your own, the grounding heaviness of your limbs making you realize that it is now you who controls what you do next; glancing down at yourself curiously, you look back up at the figure, where they remain waiting expectantly.

You take a step closer. Their smile widens slightly. 

Good, they say, soft and deep like a purr, closer. 

Slowly, you bring a hand up, finding a slight hesitation to make contact with this outstretched hand— and, as though hearing your doubts, the figure chuckles, teasing and lighthearted, as though already aware of what you will choose in the end. 

When your skin touches theirs, you feel nothing. It is like air under your palm. 

Your grip tightens, unsure if you’ve taken their hand at all; before you can so much as take a breath, their hold shifts, hand sliding forward and deft fingers wrapping tightly around your wrist, fingertips digging into the skin— you’re pulled in without warning, stumbling forward and crashing into their strong chest. 

Looking up, you find that you cannot bring yourself to feel afraid— their smile is radiant as they look down at you, the faint outline of their head much too fuzzy for you to understand— the air cracks as two pure wings stretch out, curling around the two of you and moving to cage you in shortly after— feathers fly around the air from the aggressive movement, fluttering around before they rot black, lighting at the quill and turning to ashes, the crackling sounds filling your ears as you look around you in confusion, only to get the sight obscured by the darkening wings that trap you. 

Eyes on me, the voice says, echoing in your mind, following their command immediately. The soft smile that remained on their lips can no longer be contained, growing into a grin that shows off brilliant canines that shine down at you. I will give you everything you seek. 

Feeling the twinge of hope in your heart, the figure pulls you closer still, allowing your body to press against theirs. 

Seek me, they whisper lowly, a hand beginning to snake around your waist, dancing fingertips pressing into the small of your back— leaning down, they whisper softly into your ear. 

Find me in our sanctuary, you can hear their grin through their words, and I will give you all you yearn for. 

Their lips ghost over the shell of your ear. 

Quickly. 

Before you can react, they dissolve to nothing. 

You’re left alone in the abyss once more. 

  ≪⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  

When you startle awake, you find that it is still nighttime; sitting straight up in your bed, you look out the window— snow falls peacefully, the quietness of the scenery doing nothing to calm your beating heart. 

The dream. 

Words and messages echo throughout your mind, unsure of what to make of it all. Your chest heaves slightly with confusion, eyes adjusting to the darkness as you glance over at your bedside table— the statue of the cross greets you like always, the soft voice from your dream resurfacing in your tired brain. 

Your body is moving on its own accord; your coat, your shoes, all of it is being thrown on before your dazed mind can even process it, still weighed with sleep as you stumble around in the darkness. Only one thought seems to keep you moving, like a restless pull that leads you out your front door. 

Swinging it open, you’re met with the freezing winter breeze; the trees sway and creak, snowflakes falling in your direction and landing against the apples of your cheeks— shaking you awake slightly, a quiet voice within you wondering what it is you’re doing, telling you that you should go back inside and rest— but even through this small window of reason you receive, the warmth that leaks from behind your home attempting to wrap around you and pull you back in, the need to seek closure haunts you; your boots crunch beneath the freshly fallen snow, sealing your fate as you haphazardly close the door behind you.

It all feels like a dream still— and you wonder if it is, blinking away the snow that gets in your eyes, your walk through the emptied path that leads back to the center of town turning haste; you feel as though it is something else that is pushing you forward, allowing you to head through this dark and barren path without so much as a light to guide the way, the sound of the wind whistling through your ears and the snow crunching beneath your feet following along.

There must be a reason, your weary mind thinks, a passing thought through the blankness of your mind, passing through the desolate, closed shops, not a single street lantern lit to give you a sense of security, there is something calling you back. 

In your right state of mind, you never would have found yourself doing this; after what happened mere hours ago, you wouldn’t have been able to walk in this general direction without feeling guilt and fear weighing you down— in your fully conscious state of mind, you would have stopped to contemplate your actions the moment you began to lace up your shoes— but in this moment, as you slow to a stop and turn to face the stone steps that lead to the first faint, flickering light you’ve seen tonight, you’re none of that— instead, you allow yourself to give in to this strange, delirious state of being you’ve found yourself in. 

The tall steps of the church have blurred together. Your head remains bowed, eyes glued to your feet as you ascend, hands folded neatly in front of you as snow falls around you, on your clothes and in your hair. 

When you arrive at the top, a hand reaching out for the entrance, you hesitate— your eyes widen, and as though a bucket of ice water has been poured over you, you take in the door that has been left ajar, the lights that are no longer on inside; your hand remains outstretched for a moment, and for the first time tonight, a single question runs through your head.

Why are you here?

Standing straight, you turn to look over your shoulder, out at the town behind you— all is still, eerily so, like you’re the only person there. Even in the distance, in the neighborhoods, you do not find a single light on. A chill runs through your body, suddenly aware that you’re standing outside in the snowfall with nothing but your nightgown and a winter coat on; with blazing cheeks, you rush to slip inside the sanctuary in hopes of getting your confused mind back in order. 

The door falls shut behind you, the soft click rendering you in complete darkness; not even the magnificent, stained glass windows are able to provide you with a proper source of light, nervously looking around and taking in the church in this desolate, foreign state.

You’ve heard that old habits die hard— without realizing, you’ve made your way to the basin of holy water, shaking fingers reaching in to be dipped so you can cross yourself— only, you continue to reach in, going in further until your fingertips are touching the cool porcelain of the bowl; head snapping over the sensation, you frown in confusion at the sight of the empty basin— walking over to the one placed adjacently, you squint, reaching in unsurely, only to be met with the same cold feeling. 

Strange.

Retracting your hand, you cradle it close to your chest, a frown tugging at your features as you try to brush off the confusion; looking forward once more, you’re left face to face with the marble altar that sits at the end of the nave, beckoning you to come closer. 

It must’ve been a sign of God. That is the only explanation that would justify the strange circumstances of it all, making you way down the familiar carpet, the soft sound of your steps enough to rival the beating of your heart in your ears. 

Stepping off the carpet, you go to bow in respect— only to hear a strange sound beneath your feet, like a splashing of sorts— glancing down in confusion, your eyes narrow, attempting to decipher what it is you’ve stepped in; a pool of water maybe, looking above you to see if there might be a leak in the ceiling— a few seconds go by, and when you neither feel nor see anything fall, your frown deepens. 

“You came.” 

Your heart spikes and your gaze drops to the source of the sound, unable to do anything but gasp from the startle— through the darkness, standing behind the altar, a figure speaks to you. The sight is reminiscent and makes your legs shake, a mixture of fear and awe filling your body as you find yourself unable to speak. 

“I wondered what it would take for you to finally give in,” the voice, soft and melodic, murmurs; even through the darkness, you can feel their gaze pinned onto you intently. “Such a shame it had to go this far.”

Before you can react, a thunder-like sound fills the empty walls of the church, cracking loudly and causing you to flinch, ducking down and covering yourself instinctively— through your eyelids that remain screwed shut, you see light filling the room around you, the flickering warmth of the candles glowing against your lids, beckoning you to look— after a moment, you give in. 

Your hands tremble as you put them down, straightening up and taking a look around you: the candles have been lit up, from the chandeliers and lanterns above you to the small, worn candles at the sides of the altar— your eyes squint, trying to adjust, rubbing the sleep out of them and blinking slowly as you finally take in the figure that awaited your arrival. 

A familiar face smiles down at you sweetly. 

A loose, white shirt, a corset that ties tightly around the waist, flowing sleeves that pool around his delicate hands— your shaking pupils take it all in, lips parting to speak, only to close once more when you’ve found that nothing can come out. His hair is mused and curls at the nape of his neck, long strands falling into his kind eyes that watch you carefully. 

Behind him, two vast white wings stretch out, the grand sight making your eyes widen in wonder. 

Before you can control yourself, your knees buckle in shock. 

Beomgyu laughs at you, the sound tender to your ears; placing his hands on the table of the altar, he leans forward, looking down at you and tilting his head in curiosity. 

“What’s wrong, my lamb?”

All you can do is stare, left speechless and shaken as you remain silent— he laughs again, eyes crinkling in amusement, bright smile on display and adding to his otherworldly appearance. 

“Do not be afraid,” he says, cradling his face with his palm, cooing softly at the way you still remain paralyzed with shock, “I only want what’s best for you, little lamb.” 

You blink; shifting, you’ve found your clothes have become soaked at the knees, realizing belatedly that you must’ve fallen into the puddle from earlier— glancing down, you wince, only to freeze at what you see. 

A striking crimson soils your clothes. It drags into a path that leads off into one of the rooms on the side, your heart sinking and a cold fear striking down your spine. 

The scream that rips though you echoes and burns your throat. 

Beomgyu frowns. He’s not surprised, nor is he confused; he simply continues to watch you, beginning to round the altar table the moment you begin to crawl back from where you kneel, your legs refusing to cooperate as hot tears brim your eyes. 

“Oh no,” he tsks softly, wings folding inward so he can make his way down the nave, brows knitting together as he watches you, the intensity of his gaze keeping your eyes pinned on his as you cry in confusion, attempting to stand shakily, only to fail— he pouts, stepping in the puddle that startled you, watching as you flinch at the sight of the brilliant droplets that splash out and cling to his once pristine, white boots. “Why do you run?” 

“That— the-the blood—” you sob, hysterical, unable to get your words out through stuttered breaths, “What—”

“Shh,” he hushes you hastily, closing the distance between the two of you and stepping on your delicate nightgown, forcing you to be still as he towers over you— he leans down, hair framing his face beautifully, mischievous eyes twinkling as his face hovers inches before yours— his wings cage around the two of you, a sight to see as you merely stare up at him in utter consternation, “don’t bother with him.”

A chill runs down your spine, electrifying and forcing you to sit ram-rod straight— through the small cracks beneath his wings, you take in the streaks that have dried against the tiles, the implication of his words causing a feeling of dread to pool within you, feeling as though you might vomit with the next words you speak. 

“Who…” you breathe out, shaky and helpless as you stare up at Beomgyu; he had already been watching you, apathetic expression bringing sheer horror to your system, finally noticing small details you had been so eager to gloss over in your earlier haste— the tainted sleeves of his shirt, the messiness of his clothes, his empty, dark eyes— and your face screws into an expression of sorrow, your nails digging into the soiled carpet beneath you. 

“What have you done?”

Beomgyu doesn’t react to your question. He remains still, eerily so, before he finally stands up straight, wings spreading proudly behind him; he stares down at you, hands held behind his back and voice flat as he speaks. 

“Nothing I haven’t done before.”

Beomgyu thinks this might be his favorite part; he allows himself to watch as you force yourself to your feet, eyes blown out with horror as you stumble back, afraid he might come after you— when you see he has yet to move, you turn and run, the sight familiar as a grin grows on his face; he allows you to slam against the doors, watches confusion flood your actions as you attempt to force the door open, only beginning to take steps to go after you once you’ve begun to pound on the door hastily, hoarse voice screaming and crying for help, hoping for someone to hear your pleas and rescue you. 

“You know, there’s no one that would be out on a night like this,” Beomgyu calls out, his voice booming effortlessly over your painful attempts to seek rescue; his steps are slow and cruel, and you look over your shoulder, tensing at the sight of him nearing you, refusing to give up as you try slamming your body against the wood, only to no avail. “No one stupid enough, that is.”

Your body is well beyond bruised by now, pausing your attempts to break down the door in a desperate hope to check the handle once more; you’re rattling it roughly, crying out when you’re met with resistance. Defeated, your forehead slams against the wood, allowing your sobs to wrack through your body, fingers tightening around the handle hopelessly. 

“Now now, don’t be like this,” Beomgyu’s soft voice coos into your ear, much closer than you anticipated him to be; you flinch, feeling his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, his chest pressing firmly against your back— his arms wrap around your waist slowly, bringing you in and forcing you to remain pressed against him, “is this not what you have been seeking all along?”

Effortlessly, he pulls you away from the door. Maybe it’s the will to fight that ebbs out of your being, or maybe it’s his superhuman strength, pulling you off and forcing the two of you to walk backwards, your hands falling limply at your sides and your head falling back to stare at the ceiling, glossy eyes barely processing the words he speaks next. 

“Come with me,” he murmurs, the searing touch of his hands searing through your clothes, burning your skin, “your heart has been searching for me, you know.”

Allowing him to walk you backwards, you whimper at his words— a sharp reminder of what it was that kept bringing you back here, unwavering guilt sinking your stomach at the faint fire that flickers within. 

“No. Please,” you breath out, hushed and hurried as you shake your head, “Please, I beg of you, have mercy—”

Beneath you, you hear the familiar splash of liquid; you yelp in panic, jumping against Beomgyu’s body and trying to look down on instinct— you’re stopped before you can successfully do so, his heated palm pressing against your eyes, forcing you to be left in the dark. 

“Don’t.” he says softly, his arm tightening around you, feeling tears pool beneath his skin, “you’re alright, I’m here with you.” 

“Such a poor thing. Life has treated you quite unfairly, hasn’t it?” Beomgyu speaks aloud, feeling you hesitate and stumble as he leads you up towards the elevated altar, listening to your jagged breaths with a slightly pitied look. “Perfect and pure all your life, a devoted follower of god.” 

“Don’t worry,” Beomgyu says, hand coming off your eyes for just a moment— not that you even noticed, your eyes had been screwed shut all along— only to wrap a cloth around your head instead, deft hands making a careful knot at the back of your head; sliding your clothing to the side, Beomgyu ignores the way you jolt when his soft lips press a kiss to your shoulder. His breath tickles as it fans on your skin. 

“You’ve done well, my lamb.”

Beomgyu knows that you will never be able to grasp what is happening; especially not in this stunned state you’re in, the cloth around your eyes already soaked through with silent tears, hands limp at your sides as he takes in your face curiously, noticing your lips that move with silent words. 

Even now, you pray. 

My Lord and my God, your lips read, whispers of the faint words slipping from you, in my acceptance of the type of death you plan for me, I join your sufferings on the Cross. 

Beomgyu watches you hesitate. Your bottom lip wobbles and your throat swallows thickly. 

All I ask is that you stand beside me and never leave me.

Even through the veil that has been put over your eyes, a stray tear manages to slip through. 

Beomgyu should feel bad for laughing, he supposes— but he can’t help it, taking in the melodramatic sight with thorough amusement, watching you flinch and press your lips together tightly. He shakes his head softly, finding himself becoming fond of your antics as he takes a hold of your hand, ignoring the way you startle so easily as he guides you to where he wants you instead. 

“Oh dear,” he sighs, leading you to press back against the altar table, stiffening at the unexpected feeling, “I fear you may have misunderstood me entirely. See, I don’t want to kill you, my lamb.”

Your brows furrow; he’s confused you, he can tell. 

“There’s something your pretty little heart has been curious about, isn’t there?” he asks, a grin stretching across his face as you shiver, already aware of what he may be hinting at— but even so, you try to remain clueless, even if you’re quite terrible at it. “Something… you want.”

“There is nothing,” you reply, quickly, albeit shakily, “please, I just— just spare me—”

“Now, there’s no need to lie.” Beomgyu coos, placing his hands on your waist, hoisting you up on the altar table in one swift motion; you gasp, hands reaching blindly for something to stable yourself on, one landing on Beomgyu’s shoulder and the other on the marble beneath you— the hand on his body quickly slips off, and Beomgyu finds himself craving for more. 

“You’ve been denying yourself for so long,” Beomgyu murmurs, his voice a hypnotizing lull that causes you to gulp. His fingertips dance across your waist, trailblazing a fire that refuses to die down, mixing with the fear that pounds your heart against your chest. “You must feel so, so trapped.”

“There’s no need to pretend here,” he smiles, reaching up to caress your cheek, watching you gulp, fists clenched tightly in your lap, “I’m aware of everything. It’s only human nature, after all.”

Fervently, you shake your head. Your consistent denial is almost impressive to Beomgyu, the facade of confidence you try to exude with your voice both evident and pity-inducing. 

“I refuse to give in to the temptations of sin,” you say, the words like a recited script at this point; Beomgyu’s lip curls in distaste. 

“It is not sin,” he whispers softly, hands beginning to wander down from your sides to your hips, grasping softly at the skin before moving down, to the tops of your thighs and over your hands that remain clenched tightly, “it is merely the human experience.”

His hands feel hot over your own; you can feel him press against your body from where you sit, undoubtedly looming over you and caging you in as he speaks. His actions are absentminded as he caresses your hand, stroking the skin soothingly as he continues to invade your senses, whispering things that only the deepest, darkest parts of your heart have considered. 

“You’ve worked so hard to live a pious, pure life,” Beomgyu says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watches you frown, finally beginning to listen to the words he feeds you, “even at the face of danger, you remained loyal— even now, you continue to refuse me.”

“But, don’t you see? The lord has brought you here for a reason.” His eyes shine the moment you shift restlessly under his grip, pressing himself tighter against you, “your dreams, your thoughts, they have led you here for a purpose only you can serve.”

You try to refute him yet again; your lips open, but you hesitate, unsure of what to say. You remain quiet instead. 

“Will you deny the fate god has bestowed you?”

A soft pout forms on your face; your heart is racing, and your mind must be too, because you don’t bother to react when Beomgyu’s hand leaves your own, trailing down your thighs and prodding your legs open so he can stand between them— too deep in thought to realize that he’s lifting your nightgown up, bunching it at your knees tentatively. 

Beomgyu watches you carefully, taking in your silence and smiling triumphantly as he speaks, “Here,” his other hand slides to place itself on the bare skin of your inner thigh, watching with sadistic pleasure as you jolt and yelp in surprise, “I’ll show you what it is you’ve been searching for.”

Your skin is tender as he begins to trail forward, eager to touch you and familiarize himself with you— only to get stopped by your trembling hand, his eyes darting to your troubled face, brows furrowing with confusion as he watches you muster the courage to say something. 

“N…Not…” it feels as though nerves and fear have swallowed you whole, having to take a deep breath in order to continue your sentence, “Not here. Not like this.”

“Hmm? But where else could this possibly happen?” he asks teasingly, much too desperate to heed your half-hearted request, “my lamb, it is perfect here.”

“Beomgyu, this place, it’s sacred,” your lips pressed together, using all the courage within you to speak up, “It is a home to me, I couldn’t bear to desecrate it—”

Beomgyu’s fingers dig into the plush of your thigh, able to feel his face hover over yours as he speaks through gritted teeth, eyes burning holes into your skin. 

“This was my home too.”

It all happens so suddenly; you’re pushed to lay back against the table, legs forced open as Beomgyu gets closer still, your lips parting in a soft gasp as he successfully bunches your nightgown at your hips, looming over you so he can undo your coat. 

“And our lord has decreed that it is here where I finally take you.” he hisses, watches as you can only let our a broken whimper and shift restlessly beneath him; the fire has consumed you wholly by now, he knows, the seeds of lust planted within you far too much for a person like you to bare— even the graze of his fingertips against your bare skin is enough to have you gasping. 

“I’ve waited long enough to taste you.”

Your body is alight with nerves, buzzing at the sensations around you— though you see nothing, it heightens your other senses, forced to take note of every motion and touch Beomgyu leaves on you, from his deft hands that undo your coat to the warmth of his body between your thighs, lips pressed together in a mix of anticipation and dread— all you can do is lie and wait. 

When Beomgyu’s hands slither back down to your core, you’re a squirming mess; he’s done nothing to you, yet you already seem so broken down and pliant— you’re a sweet sight, bitten lips parting eagerly in surprise once he suddenly plants his hand firmly against your core; your panties are pathetically soaked through, a soft cry escaping you at the heat of his touch against you, hands flying to grab at his wrist— unsure of whether to press him closer of pry him off. 

In the end, you do neither of the two. Beomgyu grins at your hesitation, a clear battle still ongoing inside your mind as you allow him to slowly rock his palm against your cunt, rubbing at your clit and causing you to sob softly at the unfamiliar sensation; your back arches and jolts of pleasure strike through you, the underlying guilt of it all causing tears to quickly well up at the corners of your eyes— though, from pleasure or shame, you’re no longer sure of. 

“Poor thing,” he coos softly, applying a sudden pressure against your cunt, all to watch the way your back arches in surprise, “it’s quite easy to make you cry, isn’t it?”

“This must all be so new to you,” he hums, rubbing at your cunt until your panties have begun to stick uncomfortably to you, your arousal soaking through and coating the heel of his hand thickly, “so pretty. Like an angel.”

His words cause a wave of heat to wash over your body; you feel restless, desperate for more, yet unsure of how to communicate as you find yourself hesitating each time, the undying guilt within you forcing your fingertips to dig into Beomgyu’s forearm a bit deeper.

“Hmm? What is it you need, my lamb?” he asks, even if he can practically see the thoughts running through your head, reading your body and the way your hips fight to cant against his hand, “Tell me, what do you want?” 

The way you shake your head petulantly brings a huff from Beomgyu; he watches as you heat up at his question, lips trembling with embarrassment, chin tucked down into your chest as though it would be enough to hide from his gaze— chuckling, Beomgyu allows a few more seconds to pass, letting you sit with your own confliction, before he finally decides to take pity on you; a shaky gasp escapes your lips as Beomgyu’s hand shifts, middle and ring fingers trailing up until they press against the fabric of your panties, pushing in and teasing your leaking hole. 

“Why do you hold back still?” he asks softly, his hand that isn’t teasing you incessantly smoothing down your thigh, stopping at your knee so he can wrap it around his slim waist, “there’s no need to continue this act of yours; do not lie under the eyes of god.”

You cry softly, a cacophony of emotions raging within you as your nails dig deeper into your palms, cunt throbbing and sending sparks of electricity as Beomgyu presses his fingers further into you, stretching the fabric and soaking it with your own arousal— through hushed, trembled words, you finally gather the courage to speak. 

“I want…” you hesitate, shifting on the cold marble of the altar table, turning your head to the side in a faux attempt to avoid Beomgyu’s scrutiny, “I want more.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Beomgyu immediately chides, his fingers moving to ghost over your clit, a satisfied smile growing on his face as you feel the shocks of pleasure from his movements, already too much for your innocent body, “you expect me to take such a weak request seriously?”

You gasp in surprise as Beomgyu suddenly takes a hold of your chin, forcing you to face him once more as you feel him hovering over you; his breath fans across your face, eyelids fluttering behind your blindfold at the sensation. 

“Tell me again,” he says, his fingers applying just the slightest more pressure on your clit, watching as the pleasure breaks you effortlessly; his lips brush against the corner of your mouth, able to feel his coy smile as he speaks. “Tell me like you mean it.”

Beomgyu waits for you eagerly; his touch on your cunt is almost nonexistent, applying just enough pressure here and there as a reminder of what it is you so desperately wish for— it’s so easy to get you to where he wants, he thinks, watching you become overwhelmed by his presence, by the pleasure he continues to give and take away. After a mere few seconds, you finally cave. 

“Beomgyu…” you trail off, the sudden use of his name bringing a shiver through his body, the sound sweet and pure like he dreamed it to be, “Beomgyu, I can’t— I feel so strange, please help me— I need more.”

He chuckles lowly at your words; placing a gentle kiss at the corner of your mouth, Beomgyu straightens up, leaving you for a moment in order to hook his fingers under your panties, ready to drag them slowly down your hips. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he sighs aloud, watching with fond eyes as you startle at the sensation, legs jumping to close back together— but he won’t allow it, standing firmly between them and forcing your hips to lift, all so he can pull off the only article of clothing standing between him and what he’s desired for so long; his eyes darken at the string of arousal that follows the seat of your panties, eagerly taking in your puffy, needy cunt, body becoming alight with a carnal need to consume you whole. “You’re perfect. Truly a gift from god.” 

He can’t help but grin at his own comment, eyes flickering back up at the altar above him, the candles that flicker wildly— then he looks back down at you, your puffy, tear stained face and your hands that remain tense at your sides, lips pressed together in fear of letting a sound escape— but Beomgyu is much too eager to let you have what you want. 

This ashamed and reserved attitude of yours will be no more— he’s determined to have you melt under his touch, fingertips curious as they finally begin to caress your bare cunt, teeth sinking into his lip as he takes in every gasp, arch, and tense your body gives him. 

It’s slow and oh so cruel, the way he swipes the pads of his fingertips along your slit, bringing the arousal to your clit and circling it softly, all so he can watch you pant and shiver at the sensations— your hands have moved to grasp at your clothes, jaw clenched as your mind tries to keep up with all these new sensations: you feel so hot and restless, a fiery itch settling deep in your core, only alleviated with the stray sparks of pleasure Beomgyu gives you— it’s too much, yet not enough at all. 

“Won’t you let me hear you?” Beomgyu asks, fingers beginning to prod at your entrance, circling it leisurely as he observes you, “it’s no fun like this.”

You can hear the pout in his words, petulant and teasing as he coos out your name, “C’mon, I know you sound as sweet as you look.”

You’re given no warning when his fingers breach your entrance; a yelp escapes you before you can process it, the sudden stretch bringing chills down your spine— it’s just his middle finger first, lithe and calculated as it curls and prods at your walls, feeling you flutter and clench around him as he adds his ring finger in next— you’re letting out a cry at how fast it all happens, a hand reaching down to grasp at his wrist, a mixture of shock and pleasure filling your being. 

“Beomgyu…!”

“Again,” he murmurs, fingers beginning to stretch your walls, pumping steadily and curling, listening to the quiet mewls and moans you let out, “louder. Show me how much you like it.”

“Beomgyu… oh–! N-not there, ah–!” You’re a squirming mess, shifting beneath his hold and shaking your head, the feelings far too much for you— Beomgyu doesn’t bother to heed your requests, abusing the soft, spongy parts of your walls that seem to make you react the most; you choke and hiccup pathetic moans, thighs tensing and spasming around him, hands shaking from the tight hold you have on your nightgown; it gets difficult having to chase your hips after a while, Beomgyu’s eyes narrowing as he places a harsh hand down on you, pinning you down against the table, fingers digging into the soft skin as you gasp. 

“Stay still.” is all he says to you, palm pressing against your clit as he slowly fingers you, drinking in the miniscule changes of your expression eagerly, “Don’t fight it.” 

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks, punctuating his words with a cruel curl into you; you gasp, chest heaving as a tight coil builds up within you, “doesn’t it feel so nice?” 

“So sad, you’ve been denying yourself such bliss for so long,” Beomgyu utters softly, cooing at the way you cry and struggle to remain sane, overwhelmed by everything Beomgyu does to you, “won’t you let me take care of you?” 

Carefully, he hovers over you, strands of his hair brushing against your cheeks as he presses a soft kiss to your jaw, lips caressing the column of your neck as he smiles softly. 

“Wouldn’t you like for me to taste you?”

He’s sure you don’t fully grasp what it is he might mean— but you’re eager nonetheless, a gasp escaping your lips, so soft he might’ve missed it if he hadn’t been so close— the tight clench of your cunt around him is enough of a sign anyway. 

You can only hear shifting; your ears perk up as you try to decipher what could be happening, feeling Beomgyu’s hand wander down your thighs, the loss of his heat above you, the flickering warmth of the candles around you— you lay still, with bated breath and buzzing nerves. 

Your mouth falls open, a loud moan falling from your mouth and bouncing off the walls. 

It’s all too much for your poor, inexperienced body; it’s overwhelming, the pleasure wrapping you up and burning you alive as your thighs attempt to shut, only to close in on Beomgyu’s head that remains steady, large hands splayed on your hips as he holds you down, his mouth continuing his assault against your cunt. 

The chants of his name and your broken moans are enough to keep him motivated— he’s lapping at your clit hungrily, moving down to suck at the arousal that leaks from your entrance, perfect nose bumping into you as he sighs and groans against you. 

You think you might’ve gone mad; sounds you didn’t think were possible are escaping you, each more pitiful and helpless than the last. Your hands wander absentmindedly, not realizing what it is you’re searching for until they’ve finally curled into his thick hair, tangling strands around your fingers and tugging rashly— you can feel him moan against you at the actions, the feeling bringing a shiver down your spine. 

“B-Beom…gyu!” you whine out, hips attempting to wiggle out of his hold, hands tugging his head closer— your eyes remain screwed tight behind your blindfold, tears pricking at them as your mind races to process what is happening to you— between your legs, Beomgyu grins triumphantly, nails digging into your delicate thighs as he licks a long stripe along your slit.

In times like these, Beomgyu can’t help but be reminded of who he is, what his existence is for— his tongue is long, abnormally so, as it enters you, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he laps up your essence and fucks you with it, listening to your startled cries morph into nothing but wanton lust, choking on the syllables of his name and brokenly pleading for him to not stop— as if he could ever be capable of doing so.

You’re delicious, like a ripe fruit that has been eyed for too long, too high on a tree for anyone to take— victory feels sweet on Beomgyu’s tongue as you clench and leak around him, allowing you to grind against him and take the reins of what you want, giving you the pleasure you seek— and he can feel you getting wound up quite quickly, your keens and cries loud enough to rival the screams of fear you were letting out only moments ago— but then again, none of that matters as long as Beomgyu has his hands on you. 

You’re almost there, a climax strong enough to wreck you approaching quickly— and as much as Beomgyu would love to feel it, to swallow your cum as it drips out your fluttering cunt— he can’t. Not yet, and certainly not like this. Though it pains him, he pulls away from your cunt that attempts to suck him back in. 

The sob you let out almost makes Beomgyu regret his decision; you’re a broken, confused mess, panting like a dog as you cry and wonder why it is that Beomgyu stopped so suddenly— gently, Beomgyu pries your hands off from where they tug at his hair, listening to your disoriented mumbles of his name, reaching blindly for him as he rises to his feet. And you’re left in the darkness once more. 

Before you can react, Beomgyu’s hands lift your head, quickly undoing your blindfold, letting it fall against the altar next to your face; your eyes flutter open from the action, brows furrowed as everything slowly comes into focus. 

Beomgyu hovers above you, the flickering candlelight around the two of you casting an ethereal glow around his face; it is warm and fond as he looks down at you, plump lips pulled into a gentle smile as he caresses your cheek, letting out a breathy chuckle at the way you fluster immediately, unable to hold his gaze. 

“Look at me.” he says, his voice compelling enough to have you following his command, the feeling so natural you haven’t realized you’ve obeyed until you’re meeting his dark eyes— there is no light in his pupils, despite the many sources that continue to fall onto the two of you. He smiles, a hand continuing its reassuring strokes against your skin, the other moving down to grab your thigh, wrapping it around his waist once more. “Don’t be afraid— keep your eyes on me.”

You feel something prodding at your entrance; you stiffen, breath hitching and hands instinctively reaching up to place themselves flat against Beomgyu’s chest— with wide eyes, you stare back at him, unable to break this entrancing spell you’ve caught yourself in, lips parting in a silent gasp as Beomgyu’s eyes soften. Slowly, he pushes in.

The feeling of his cockhead breaching your walls has you gasping sharply, shock painting your face and nails digging into your chest as your back arches slightly— the stretch is new and unexpected, the feeling of him inside you causing your stomach to twist in pain and pleasure— it’s so sudden, you feel as though you’re not ready, yet your body cries for him to continue, feeling him pause and still inside you. 

The smile on Beomgyu’s face is practically permanent; words could not explain the satisfaction he feels, the twisted victory he gains from every inch he pushes inside you, virgin walls fluttering and squeezing him like a vice, your wide, doe eyes glazing over with pleasure the longer he takes, the more he allows you to adjust. 

Your chest heaves by the time he’s fully inside you, face screwing up as you feel him bottom out, his tip pressing firmly into you— your voice breaks as you call out his name, searching for comfort he will not be able to provide. Instead, he coos softly at you, empty, sugary words and reassurances that are merely practiced in his mind, feathery caresses against your temple as he shushes you, telling you that everything’s okay, that you’ll feel good soon enough.

“I’ve got you,” he purrs, even if you continue to tense every time he shifts, legs twitching at the sheer stretch you’ve suddenly been forced to take. “It’s okay, don’t be nervous.”

When he begins to pull out, criminally slow and teasing, you gasp— and he grins, fully expecting it as he hovers over your lips, only to press a chaste kiss to your nose as he moves to stand straight, only the tip of his cock left inside you. 

The sight of you is nothing short of divine; just seeing you like this is enough to bring him energy, greedy gaze taking in your broken expression, eyes flickering to your parted lips that tremble and gasp out his name. He groans softly, the eyes fluttering shut as he takes a moment to appreciate the way your cunt clenches around him, warm and wet, nothing like the scraps he was forced to feed on as punishment. You’re perfect, pure, full of life. 

Before he can second guess himself, his hips slam back in. 

The pace he’s set is nothing short of cruel; his feather-light touches and chaste kisses had been nothing but a show, all an attempt to lower your guard and allow him to seize you at your weakest; you yelp in surprise and attempt to cling onto him, overwhelmed by the harshness of his cock as it pounds into you, aiming for the most sensitive spots within you that leave you begging and crying out— but whether it’s for him to stop or continue, you’re not entirely sure— your reasoning blurred into one big mess long ago. 

It doesn’t take long for Beomgyu to lose himself in the feeling of you; greedy, rough hands grasping at your skin, groping the soft skin of your thighs, your hips, wandering up to squeeze and toy with your breasts— and you can only lay there and take it all, watching him use you to satisfy himself, unable to help the way your cunt clenches and drools at the sight. His hips angle and his cock slams deep against you, hitting a spot he’s never hit before— and you stiffen, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you cry out. 

“Oh!” you yelp, tears pooling at your eyes, a hand slamming over your mouth at the sudden noise— but even so, your muffled cries still slip out from the cracks of your fingers. “O-Oh my—! ah—!”

“Why silence yourself?” Beomgyu laughs softly, slightly out of breath as he continues to cling to you, hips rutting wildly into you, chasing that familiar bliss he grew addicted to; he proceeds to aim for that particular spot over and over, watching tears ebb from the corners of your eyes, flowing down the sides of your face and dripping onto the pristine white marble of the altar table. “Go on, say it.”

“Say it, call out their name, let this whole sanctuary know how good it feels,” he hisses, face hovering over yours once more, eager to watch you crumble. 

“Call to your god,” he whispers, a soft moan falling between heavy breaths, feeling the way you squeeze and suck him in, your peak approaching much too fast for you to handle, “go on, pray that they forgive your sins and look past the way your tight cunt begs to keep this demon inside you.”

His cock feels like heaven inside you; it’s relentless, slamming into you as his hand falls from its tight hold on your thigh to your clit, rubbing tight circles that cause your body to tighten until it can no longer hold back. 

“Oh my God— Beomgyu!” you’re a drooling, tearful, pitiful sight as you finally crash down, sobbing and babbling words that blend together, your hands pulling at Beomgyu’s shirt until you’re bringing him down to you.

Beomgyu’s kiss is celestial. His lips slot perfectly against yours, a soft grunt escaping him as he finally cums inside you; thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your cunt, filling you until you can no longer hold it in— you tremble and you hold Beomgyu close to you throughout it all, your mind emptied out and craving nothing but him. 

Your eyes flutter shut; your body tingles, your hold on him weakening as you begin to slump back against the altar. It’s getting harder to move, sluggishly trying your best to keep up with Beomgyu’s sloppy kisses, your chest beginning to cave in as your lungs burn and beg for air. 

You want to pull away. You want to stop— yet, you find with a delayed horror that you can’t. 

Beomgyu won’t pull away; Beomgyu can’t pull away, feeling his arms snake beneath your figure, one wrapping around your waist tightly, the other slithering up your back and cradling the back of your head, holding it up so he can keep you as close to him as possible. 

Your vision has begun to blur; your hands have fallen limp at your sides. You feel weakened, only your lips able to move as they mindlessly follow after Beomgyu, sluggish and messy movements that go on whether you want to or not. 

Behind him, a crackling sound emits; the candles around you flicker wildly, divine feathers that were once proudly on display above you beginning to darken and fall, burning off and becoming a charred black— blood seeps from the crevices where feathers slip away, landing on top of you and on the altar you lay on. 

His wings are a shriveled, grisly sight. He’s transformed entirely before your very eyes, pulling away slowly and sighing softly into your parted lips. Slowly, his hands slither off you, laying you gently and standing straight to take in the mess he’s made. All you can do is stare back through bleary eyes. 

“My lamb,” he says affectionately, bringing a hand up to cup your face; it is only then that you’re able to notice the state of his hands, charred and injured, just like his wings, animal-like claws replacing his nails. They dig slightly into your skin as he smiles down at you, utterly enamored.

“I will cherish this ‘till kingdom come.”

His enchanting expression is the last thing you see. His claw moves faster than the human eye can process as it slices cleanly across the canvas of your neck. 

Your body jolts at the action, not a single shift in your expression as your body relaxes against the altar table. Your eyes remain open and dazed with pleasure.

Blood flows from the deep crack of his cut; it flows from your mouth as well, and all Beomgyu can do is watch as the color slowly fades from your skin, the light in your eyes no more. He looms over you in silence, lingering on even when he knows there’s nothing left for him there. A pool of your blood has formed around your head, a twisted halo that stains the marble. 

Beomgyu’s eyes remain transfixed on your wound, emotionless eyes watching the blood drip out steadily. Then, they begin to wander, trailing down until they stop at a certain point, hypnotized by the thought that suddenly enters his mind. 

Before he can second guess himself, Beomgyu’s hand hovers above your chest. 

It is not easy to reach your heart. It is an obscene and difficult process, though Beomgyu doesn’t bat an eye throughout it all; blood coats his forearm once he finally succeeds, a happy hum escaping him as he examines the item in his hands with fascination. 

It’s just as transcendent as the rest of you. Taking your life force was enough to make Beomgyu feel normal again, but with this, he’s sure that you would fuel his energy for the rest of his miserable eternity. 

His eyes soften; it’s so fragile, it drips onto his skin and sings to him, the last of your innocence begging to be released, to be given peace; instead, Beomgyu brings it closer to him, sighing slowly as he gets one last look at it.

And he bites. 

He can almost hear your voice, the memories trapped within as he closes his eyes, chewing and swallowing and biting again. Tilting his head back, he all but groans in satisfaction. 

His eyes slowly flutter open. He’s met with the chandeliers above him, the looming altar to his left calling his attention. Apathetically, his head lolls to the side, getting a better look at the statues that stand over him. Taking another bite, he feels blood leak onto his lips that curl into a sickly sweet smile.

He’s never tasted anything purer.

[goldsbitch]

Light Roast Mosaic

Five stages of a relationship, little moments captured at a small café in Monte Carlo, one melting into another. Is it one story? That is for the universe to know and for us to wonder.

warnings: fluff, angst featuring: Franco, Lando, Oscar, Charles, Max

//

Franco's first sip

"Another espresso?" the not-so-polite waitress glanced over both of them, her thick French accent pushing through.

Franco needed to look confident. Third coffee was totally fine and probably on brand with him, so what that his fingers were shaking?

"Yes, exactly," he smiled at her, doubting whether he kept the eye contact for too long or not enough. He was trying not to let his composure down.

His palms were already sweating, they had been for the past hour. Part of him wanted to get up and run away, the other would do anything to make sure you were glued to the chair you were sitting on forever.

The waitress left, leaving her opinions to herself and you were back at the semi-awkward conversation break again. He looked back at you, you averted and blushed, missing the part where he blushed too. The French waitress had just interrupted you telling a story about your sibling, one that still made you laugh years later. Your heart was beating fast - because you managed to make him laugh too.

"I'm sorry, so what happened next?" Franco asked leaning forward towards you.

You fiddled with your fingers. "Um, nothing, that is it, I believe," you replied, regretting that the wind was taken out of your punch line. You were nervous, hell, nervous times seven. And yet, the conversation flew back and forth, as if you wanted to use up all of your words on him and choke on his.

"Sounds like a fun childhood," he remarked naturally. You could feel his gaze burning through you. For some reason, you dared not to look back. Was this a date? You had just met few days ago at random and he kind of asked for your contact. Few DM's and one post-poned meeting and now you were here. Across him. No idea why his presence felt so exhilarating. This was a coffee in the afternoon. Just talking. Why did it produce the same chemical reaction as a rollercoaster ride?

"It was, but definitely not as cool as Argentina must have been," you replied and nonchalantly grabbed a sugar packet of the table and broke it apart on your small plate. You just had to do something with your hands, it was getting riddicculous and he would notice unless you did something. "Tell me about Argentina."

"I will, one day," he responded and your stomach exploded with butterflies at the thought of him suggesting another date, "but, first you tell me what you're doing," he asked, hinting at your sugar creation. In the meantime, another coffee cup landed in front of Franco.

"Um, nothing. It's something I always do. A habit, I guess." Lies, lies, lies. You'd never done this. But it was either this, or staring into his incredible eyes and you were not ready for that yet. Freaking him out was not the plan.

"Looks like you're drawing something," he observed and took a sip of his third coffee. Not that he was such a big of a fan of the bevarage. He just wanted to keep sitting there with you. You smiled, mindlessly. Perhaps yes, it did appear like a drawing. A flash of the memory of your grandma, pretending to be a tea leaves fortune teller, when you went young, came to your mind. You looked at him with a challenging look.

"Do you want me to read your future?" you asked, gaining some confidence from unknown sources. It was as if your body wanted to tease him. To lure him in and then never let him go. But you were also scared of the attraction you felt, so you know, casual confusion going on there.

"Can you read the future from, em, sugar?" he raised his brows with an amused, skeptical look. Then he took a big gulp on his coffee and failing at keeping it cool, he choked like a little kid. You couldn't help but laugh at the sudden loss of his "suave" look.

"You ok there?" you said, trying to push in your laughter.

Took him few coughs and deep breaths to compose himself before he spoke. "Ay, don't worry. Three coffees might be just enough...But, guess what?" he spoke, quickly back at his irresistible self.

"What, Franco?" Oh, you were so doomed.

"I just saw the future," he challenged you and licked his lips. Not that you noticed, no. Definitely not.

"And what did you see?" you replied, keeping a firm eye contact.

"Next Tuesday."

"Hm, so not that strong coffee, I guess," you diverted.

"Strong enough," he countered, not letting his gaze of your face.

You took a breath and surrended. "So, what did you see?"

"You and me on another date."

//

Two sugars

A quick coffee run before going back to the safety and comfort of your apartment. You and Oscar had a good run of days lately. Maybe too good. Your core almost ached when you walked, but that was a fair price for the bliss he made you feel. How many times in one day is too much? It looked like you were about find out. But first, coffee and some carbs.

You two picked a quiet corner away from the window, trying to enjoy the privacy Monaco offered sometimes. Sitting next to each other rather than across and having a whole table dividing you provided you both with a clear view on the café. Oscar was about to give a cheeky kiss and pushing you further into his embrace when you lightly pushed back and nodded to door. Oscar let a loud sigh out when he finally spotted Colapinto and Bearman walking in to get a take out after their run.

"God, I hope they don't notice us. I am not in the mood for F1 bullshit today," he murmured and sunk deeper into the chair.

"Uuh, beware, the young ones are coming," you teased and watched them. It was a relief to see them walk away immediately, locked in their own conversation and not noticing the self-absorbed couple in the back corner.

Oscar looked at you, puzzled. "Young ones? They are our age."

"I'm not talking about me, but you! Age works differently in F1," you said lightly and put your hand back on his upper arm.

He brushed your cheek with his hand. "Sweetheart, two years ago, you had no idea racing existed. Look at you now, almost ready for your own podcast!"

"Uuh, what would I talk about? Interesting..." you pretended to be lost in the thought of it and he did not buy it at all.

With a smirk, he made a simple comment. "Knowing you, you will always find something."

"I could talk extensively about prep before a race," you replied and stole a quick kiss from him.

"Is that so," he said and pulled you even closer to him and locked your lips again.

"Yeah. You know," you whispered between kisses "..stroke first, the touch the balls before you take him in your mo-"

He pulled away and put his finger on your mouth, trying to hide his amusement and quickly stepping in to avoiding finishing so easily. A habit, one might say. "Ok, ok, stop, there are people here," he pointed out, observing the cafe again. He was not that keen on PDA, but you managed to break through that wall, especially if you managed to keep him comfortable for longer period of time.

"Fuck people," you hoped one day he's become less worried about other people.

"You wanna fuck people? " he frowned, mildly disgusted once he eyed the cafe again. "Not an impressive crowd, interesting choice on your part," he teased you with his dead pan expression.

You rolled your eyes, typical Oscar. "Well, maybe not people, a person."

"If you say Lando again, I swear to God.." he added without missing a beat.

Oscar smirked and you mirrored his action. Even after a year and a half of teasing each other 24/7 it still felt fresh, like a ripe strawberry, still warm from the sun. You had each and every of his freckle mapped, he could tell just by the way you did your hair in the morning what kind of mood you'd have throughout the day.

"Come to the next race with me. Please," he pleaded, changing the tone of the conversation to more of a serious one, as he fiddled with a random strain of your hair. Then he licked his lips, as he would always do when something bothered him.

During the time you'd dated you visited only two races. People kept constantly nagging him about it, but he tried to put as little pressure on you as possible. Remembered more than vividly how a crowd of fans surrounded over you the first time around, nearly causing you a panic attack. You were never a crowds person. There wasn't much of a choice during a Grand Prix. You loved supporting him, sent him videos of your reaction to the race whenever something happened, for him to watch on the plane ride home. His favorite one was the one where you went on a five minute rant after his dive bomb in Baku. Like a parent who is trying to explain to a child that jumping of a cliff might not be the best idea. He found it adorable. Just wished he could have you there in person.

"I'll think about it."

//

Cold Brew

"Lando, you're lost in your thoughts again."

At the beginning it was easy. No drama, hard conversations avoided. Just pure fun and light weight life. She was willing to drop everything for him, come out to races and twirl around him, without needing any extra care. She was easy. But she was not you.

Lando smiled apologetically and tried to push the train of intrusive thoughts back in and focus on what his current girlfriend was saying. But it was so hard, when a Taylor Swift song was playing and a raspberry macaroon was just brought to the table next to them. Punch to his guts came free with that. It's been months now since you last spoke together. First two months were fairly easy, he found distractions and one of them even made it to this cafe as well and was now sitting across from him. With seasons turning, it was like you started to creep back in from every corner of each room. Impossible to escape your ghosts.

Lando felt like a prey, trying to escape attacks from everywhere. But there was no one attacking him, apart from his own brain. It's not that you were suddenly all over any place he was at, it's that his brain searched for you.

Was that your car outside? Did he just smelled your perfume? He could have sworn he just heard your heels.

He fiddled with a spoon in his almond milk latte. You hated when he would order that and joked about never kissing him again. It should make him happy that the girl sitting across from him has ordered the same drink as he had. She was a good match on paper.

Just not you.

"Lando, can you please listen to me?"

//

Second batch

"Y/N?"

You turned around, nearly dropping your phone and purse. It was a middle of a busy day for you, emails popping off like crazy and your mind was anywhere but present. The plan was to get a quick coffee and get into the office and join the emergency online meeting your boss initiated.

His voice was something you could recognize under any circumstances. But maybe, just maybe you were mistaken. You turned around slowly, just to make sure that you were correct. As your eyes met, it became clear you made no mistake. For few seconds, you just stared at each other.

"Hey, Charles."

Time stopped. There he was, once again in his full casual glam. He was really good at that, always had been. You never felt like you could keep up, back when you used to date. But it was a long time ago, you both grew up and years added on seemed to suit him well. Just like you observed him, he did you. It was clear you were in a rush, but also rushing somewhere where you were important and needed.

"How are y-"

"Your coffee, madame," the rude waitress interrupted Charles, a signature move you were more than familiar with as a local customer. Unlike Charles. He would usually avoid this place.

"Thank you," you turned your attention briefly towards her and took your coffee, balanced your things and took few steps away from the counter, not to disturb the lady more. Charles ignored anyone, but you. When you regained your composure, he tried asking again.

"How are you?"

His piercing blue eyes were dawning on you, a painting of conflicting feelings locked in them, begging to be set free.

"Um, yeah. Very busy currently," you spoke in a muted tone, still not fully comprehending that you just randomly bumped into him on a day like that.

Soft smile crept on his face. "You look busy." His eyes were trying to catch yours, without much success. Then they flashed to the top of your head and you knew that your hair was probably all over the place.

"Oh, fuck, is it that bad?" you asked, hoping for an honest answer. At least this one time.

He nodded. "It's just the-em..bun?"

"Can you please hold this?" you sighed and started handing him your things.

Without questions, he took your bag, coffee, another bag, notepad and held all of that while watching you trying to fix your hair. It was shorted than it used to be when you dated, he observed. Curlier. He wondered what kind of person you grew into.

"Ok?" you checked geniuenly for his approval, first time you fully locked eyes with him. Stood there, waiting for what he had to say.

Wondered was an understatement. His curiosity was burning him from inside. You used to never leave a stone untouched when you dated together. A quality he searched for ever since with no luck.

"Yeah, perfect," he managed to get out of him and began handing you your things back.

"Listen, I really gotta rush, so..."

It was obvious you were not lying, so he figured trying to keep you there would just make you mad. "Yeah, of course."

"Uh, see you, I guess," you said, barely waited for his response and hopped off to where ever you were originally headed to.

So many things he never found the guts to say. Never apologized. He was ready now. The forgotten notepad he held in his hand served as a glimmer of hope he might get a chance to fix what he once fucked up.

//

The usual, thank you

"Lady, I am sorry, I am showing you on a map, what else do you want from me?" Max said with his signature dead pan annoyed tone and wiggled his phone in front of a poor lady, who barely spoke English. Originally, he thought she was a fan asking for a photo, instead he got stuck in trying to explain the concept of left and then long straight walk to whichever place the tourist was looking for.

You watched him struggle impatiently as you waited by the door with two coffees in hand, amused as usual. Whenever he was frantic like this, you just could not help yourself.

The two finally parted ways, Max waved her goodbye and then rubbed his face. Annoyed and tired, he was like that the past few weeks.

"Tough day the office?" you joked and handed him his coffee.

"I wish. Give a photo-hungry fan over this anytime, please."

You grabbed his hand, an subconscious gesture at that point. "Come on, we still have some time before we need to leave for the plane. Let's enjoy this walk."

He kissed you, not bothering to turn his head around and search for people with their phones ready to photograph. Max stopped doing that a long ago. His "not giving a fuck" attitude was a turn on for you in any shape or form.

The two of you walked for a few moment before you had your first sip of the coffee. A small frown escaped your face upon the first sip. "Never liked the coffee here, it's so bitter."

He had a different opinion, as per usual. "Yeah, but I like the place. They keep their bullshit levels on low. The staff is pleasant."

Max was always about getting to the point straight. Made it a very interesting quality when you fought. But you would not have it any other way.

"Is that why you wanted us to take the longer route and come here today?"

He calculated his response. "Hm, not really. Apparently they might be closing soon. Slow business."

"Ah, shame. Great location," you replied, not exactly affected by that new information.

"See, knew you'd like it," he said with a suspicious joy in his tone.

"Why are you so interested in me liking that place?"

"Well. I was thinking of buying it if they really go under," his response came with a tone suggesting he had already made that decision.

This time, you couldn't hide your shock. "Max Verstappen, what the fuck?"

He just chuckled. "Oh you'll love it. We'll have our cute little place."

"Is it because of Leclerc's ice cream? Are you jealous?" you asked, still baffled. This man will probably never stop surprising you.

He stopped and looked at you. "Good thinking, we can get his ice cream here. That'll dram crowds. I'm happy you're on board," he said and gave you a small kiss on the cheek.

"Never said that," you tried to protest, but knew it was a lost battle.

"But you'll be. For me, please? I'll make sure you always get free coffee?" he asked, with a hint of sarcasm, but you knew better than that.

So be it. You searched for a hint of doubt in his deep blue eyes, but only found determination and devotion. "Free bitter coffee, what a win!" you cheered sarcastically, but an honest smile formed on your lips.

"And a kiss with it," he bargained with a devious smile.

Was there ever any other choice than the magnificent man standing in front of you? The answer was clear to you. Where ever he went, you followed and vice versa.

"And a kiss with it."

[gingersxng]

Quickie O’Clock

Pairing: f!reader x Yunho

Genre: smut 18+

Summary: who knew crossing paths with a tall handsome guy in school would lead to so much more than just homework.

Notes: sub!reader, dom!yunho, basketball player yunho, big dick yunho, quickies, lots of ass grabbing, public sex, unprotected sex (always keep safe), creampie, lots of teasing, reader flashing herself, fingering, lots of cum, oral m.receiving. maybe forgot something

Words: 2.6k

to be honest, the college life was a whole rollercoaster ride. work here work there, do this do that. having to push yourself to get good grades although you hated studying, but you promised yourself not to fail your last year. your grades had been hanging on a thin thread for quite awhile now and so your mental health as a result. why should it be so hard to study and do good for once? that was a phrase that constantly crossed your mind. you still lived home with your parents and they were the best at showing you how bad you did at school, good grades were super important to them and they wouldn’t let you screw “them” up no no. you had four older sisters and every single one of them had turned out great, they had big houses, husbands, children and great jobs… but you, you had nothing. not even a boyfriend. being the only child at home was boring and you didn’t have a lot of friends either, well you had some friends but you never wanted to hang out with them on your spare time. having a boyfriend was something you never thought of before, it just didn’t seem interesting to have someone to share you life with. well that was until last week when you walked alone in the school corridors on your way to get your books when Yunho came walking the opposite direction. when he passed you he looked at you with a light smirk on his face and raised his eyebrows. you could only give him a smile back and it felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest. it was all over in two seconds but something happened to you.

you knew who Yunho was cause he was in the schools basketball team but you’ve never felt something for him before. he was tall and handsome, he had black hair and glasses and hands big as U.F.Os. during your last class which was ofc math you couldn’t do anything else than think about Yunho. flying off to dreamland looking out the window biting your pen you were soon interrupted by your teacher calling your name. “y/n i know it’s the last class of the day but you can at least try do one thing before you can go home”.

it was 3:30pm and you’d finally finished for the day. you went down to your locker as fast as you could to grab your things. when you shut the locker door you were startled by a tall guy, yes it was Yunho. you could feel your bare knees shake but hopefully it wasn’t noticeable. “hi, can I help you?” you tried to sound like you didn’t care. this time it was a whole new Yunho who’s standing in front you, his eyes were big and puppy like and he had a cute smile on his face. “it’s y/n right?” he asked nicely. you gave him a nod, how did he know your name?. “I think you’re really pretty and was wondering if you maybe wanted to hang out sometime?” he said with confidence in his voice. for a second you froze in place before you could get any words out. “sure, I’d be happy to” you said closing your locker and walked away. when you walked towards the door you glanced back to see if he was gone but instead you caught him looking at you with the same look on his face as when you passed each other in the corridor. you turned your head back around and headed out the door.

you didn’t get much sleep this night cause your brain was on high the whole time thinking about Yunho, why are you obsessing over a guy you don’t even know?you started your day by grabbing your things from the locker as usual before heading to class, the butterflies in your stomach went crazy from the thought of meeting him somewhere in the school corridors but you didn’t. closing the door to the classroom you took your seat which was way back in the corner, you had to pay attention to this class cause you were having a test next week. and actually you did kinda good for a change.

when your class was over it was time for lunch, you hated lunch break cause you didn’t have any friends.. well you did but they were never waiting for you and was always left alone in the end. so you went to grab a banana from your bag and placed yourself down on a bench. suddenly you heard a familiar voice behind you. “why aren’t you at lunch?” Yunho said tilting his head with his hands in his pockets. “wasn’t hungry..” he walked over so he was standing in front of you, arms crossed and you couldn’t help but noticing that he was very focused on that banana you were eating. you felt yourself getting more flushed while he stared at you, his eyes almost darkened. finishing the banana you stood up quickly and were going to get your stuff but out of nowhere he grabbed your wrist pulling you back to him. if your heart was about to jump out of your chest yesterday it stopped now. “wha-what are you doing?” you snapped. “calm down I’m not gonna hurt you” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve been watching you for a long time and I think you’re a very pretty girl” he said still holding a tight grip around your wrist. omg he likes you too! “thank you” you said giving him a smile. the grip loosened and his hands went down to your waist making your eyes widen. his face came so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. “I’ve got this feeling you like me too, is that right?” he whispered making you shiver. you looked him in the eyes taking a deep breath as you gave him a nod. a smirk formed on his lips and he closed the gap between you both, you didn’t hesitate but gave in to the kiss opening your mouth to let his tongue inside. Yunhos hands travelled down to your ass and under your skirt. you pulled away holding down your skirt. “we’re in the school corridor anyone can walk by any second and if they catch us like this..” you said trying to keep your voice down as much as possible so no one could hear. “then come with me” he grabbed your wrist again dragging you with him. all the way down in the corridor was a old janitors closet no one used anymore, Yunho opened the door and you went in.

it hadn’t been used in years so the light didn’t work anymore. you could only feel him against you but you couldn’t see anything. Yunho smashed his lips into yours and his hands were everywhere, you couldn’t believe you were obsessing over Yunho and now suddenly you were in the janitors closet with his tongue down your throat. his hands grabbed your ass cheeks and kneaded them slowly, then one hand cupped your heat pressing a finger against your clit. you let out a small moan, you could feel him smirk against your lips. your knees weakened a bit when he rubbed your clit through your panties. “how did you get so wet so fast huh?” he kissed your neck. one of your hands travelled down and you could feel a huge bulge in his jeans. you palmed him making him groan. he took your hands away and turned you around so your back was facing him. the sound of his belt unbuckling made your pussy throb. as you weren’t able to see anything you didn’t know how big he was, I mean Yunho was a very big boy and by that his dick must be too. Yunho lifted your skirt up and pulled your panties to the side. you were already so wet so he didn’t need to prep you. he put his tip sliding it along your folds collecting your arousal. “lunch break is almost over so we have to be quick” you interrupted. “and you have to be quiet” he said sliding his whole cock in without giving you time to adjust his big member. a big gasp escaped your lips. you held on for dear life as Yunho sped up his pace pounding into you from behind. “shit it feels so good” he said through gritted teeth. his cock was so big yet so perfect for your hole, he could make you see stars.

he sneaked a hand down to your clit rubbing it in fast circles and the other hand reaching in under your bra pulling it down so your boobs fell out. he then pinched a nipple in between his fingers earning a moan from you. “shh you have to be quiet love” he whispered in your ear. his pace fastened and you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you. it was hard to keep yourself from screaming when Yunho slammed his big dick into your small tight pussy. Yunho pulled away his hand from your clit and onto your mouth cause he was almost about to come and he could feel you were close too by the way your pussy clenched around him. his thrusts got sloppy and his breathing got faster. the eyes rolled back in your head as you felt the knot in your stomach burst. Yunho put his face in the crook of your neck letting out a deep groan as you felt him cum inside you, squeezing your boob hard. not long after you came all over his dick moaning into his hand. Yunho pulled out and put your panties in place again. cum leaking out of you past your panties. Yunho buckled his jeans and opened the door. you could feel cum dripping along your inner thighs and you began to panic. “I can’t go like this, I have a new class in five minutes” the fear in your voice made him laugh. “do you have to go?” he raised an eyebrow. you stopped and looked at him. “my grades are already super bad I can’t just not go to class” he lowered himself so you were face to face “well you decide, I have basketball practice now so I gotta go” he gave you a quick kiss and walked away.

- time skip -

you went to Yunhos basketball training after you were done for the day. you sneaked in quietly and took a seat to watch him play. the cum on your thighs and underwear had dried up and you felt so gross, it was his fault you were in this mess but it was also worth it. you put your feet up on the low railing to get more comfortable but you didn’t think about that you were only wearing a skirt so basically your panties was showing off so anyone could see.

when they had played one game it was time for a little break. Yunho turned your way and couldn’t help but notice you having your whole bottom on display. there still was a light stain on your panties from the cum and your ass cheeks were red as well. Yunho felt his ears turn red and his dick waking up. he walked over to you pushing your legs down. “the heck are you doing flashing yourself for the whole team!?” you didn’t understand a thing you just looked clueless. “what do you mean flashing myself why would I do that?”. “I think I know why..” he gave you a bitter look. Yunho ran over to his coach and you saw him asking something quick before he headed back your way. “I told my coach I need to have a talk with you”.

he guided you back to the changing rooms and slammed you against the wall, looking you up and down as he was biting his lower lip and his eyes were filled with lust. he parted your legs with his knee and pressed his body onto yours so you could feel his rock hard boner on your lower belly. “I swear every time you wear this skirt I get so damn hard” he growled as he tugged on your earlobe. “then I’ll always wear it” you teased him. Yunho pulled up your skirt and slipped his hand inside your underwear feeling the slimy consistency between your folds. “I think someone else is excited as well hmm?” he pushed two fingers inside your hole pumping them in and out. you closed your eyes tight and put your hand on your mouth to keep as quiet as possible but it was hard when he put his thumb on your clit and fastened his pace. it didn’t take long before you milked around his fingers, cum dripping down on the floor. your knees were shaking as you did your best to stand up. “look at you such a mess” Yunho chuckled as he licked his fingers clean. he then pushed you down so you sat on your knees looking up at him with hazy eyes. he pulled down his shorts and boxers enough to let his erect dick spring free standing up against his stomach. you gulped when you saw the big veiny cock in front of you, the tip was swollen and leaking precum. he took the tip to your lips. “open wide and be a good girl” you opened your mouth and gave the tip a few licks before wrapping your lips around him bobbing your head. Yunho threw his head back and let out a deep moan. he brushed your hair behind the ear and held the rest up for you in a ponytail. it was hard not to gag when his big dick kissed the back of your throat and you felt yourself getting a bit dizzy from the lack of air.

you sped up the pace and took him in all the way to the base of his cock, your nose touching his pubic bone. “f-fuck i’m gonna cum aah” Yunho started to thrust his hips to get more friction. there were drool hanging out the corners of your mouth and you felt his cock twitch. you looked up at Yunho struggling to keep himself together, his hair sticking to his forehead and sweat dripping down his neck and chest. he stopped your movements and along with a big groan you felt hot fluids spilling down your throat. you swallowed it all and stuck out your tongue showing him that it was all gone. “damn you’re good at this” he smirked looking down at you. he put himself back in his shorts and you fixed your skirt. none of you bothered to clean up the mess on the floor. “so.. should we date or just fuck?” Yunho asked while he had one eyebrow raised. that was a question you weren’t prepared for. “maybe we’ll just fuck for a while and then we’ll see..” you said biting your lip to tease him some more. “you better go back out there before your coach kills you” you said heading out the door. you had pulled your skirt up so your ass cheeks poked out knowing Yunho would watch you. his eyes were stuck on your ass until you were out of sight. he felt himself getting hard again, a big upset sigh left his lips.

when he got back home he took care of the problem himself cause he had to wait until tomorrow to get his dick sucked again.

[cellophanejpeg]

smoking hot | s. hanta

s: You find out pro hero Cellophane is a hypocrite. w: smoking, suggestive themes, hints at depression n: "smoking is unattractive" well, maybe for YOU, but that panel of sero smoking sent me on a spiral alright

dividers by @/saradika-graphics | beta read by jemifiss | read on ao3

The music is still loud from outside the club and you slightly nod your head to it, the last bit of drunkenness trying to hold tight onto you. To be honest, you don’t even know why you came. You’re not exactly 21 anymore, so drinking is no longer an option – not if you want to wake up feeling like dying the next day. A drink or two is enough for the night.

However, the comfort of a cigarette is very welcome.

The breeze of a summer night is also very welcome as you step outside, already lighting the tobacco stick between your lips.

The moment your eyes find him, your stomach does that thing where it thinks you’re riding a rollercoaster. It flips and sinks to your knees, and your heart follows the dance by either beating too hard, or skipping a beat. He’s outside the restaurant that’s just beside the club, with some people you don’t recognize. He’s dressed down, stripped of his hero suit, the first time you see him in civilian clothes you think. But that’s not what catches your eyes.

Between Sero’s index and middle finger, there’s a cigarette that he brings to his lips once in a while. Before you can think, your legs are bringing you to him.

You still remember the first time he just showed up at the roof of your apartment building. 

The weather was still pleasant  every time you went up there to take a smoke – your roommate hated when you smoked in the apartment, so the rooftop was your go-to –, and not the heat that makes you sweat even if you aren't moving. Sero landed on the concrete floor with a thud and, at first, it startled you, but when you recognized the uniform, you realized it was a pro hero.

The pro hero that you'd just seen on the TV last night.

He didn't notice you at first. So you just watched as he removed his helmet with a sigh and tried to fix his hair, the muscles on his back very visible under the tight fabric of the black-yellow-white suit. You watched as he sat down on the edge of the roof, legs dangling from it. Much like you were sitting. When he finally noticed he shared a space with you, he widened his eyes and cleared his throat.

“Sorry, Miss,” he said, standing up from his spot, “didn’t know I wasn’t alone.”

You laughed softly, “Please don’t call me that.”

Then, you offered a cigarette from your pack, which led to a scolding from a man who seemed to have just given a course about smoking and drinking to a bunch of high schoolers.

“You know those things are bad for your health, right?”

“Mhm.” You made a show of taking a long drag and inhaling the smoke, “My grandmother died from lung cancer. She used to smoke since she was seventeen.”

Sero widened his eyes, but you just looked up at him with hooded eyes and an amused smile on your lips.

“Then, why…?” He didn't really need to finish his question for you to shrug and answer,

“Life.” You look away, feeling the wind blow on your face.

“You could–”

“Die?” You interrupt him, smiling. “I could fall off this edge and die tonight.”

“Please don't,” he says, sitting down again, this time a little bit closer to you, “my shift just ended.”

You snort, earning a little laugh from him.

The next night, he showed up on the roof again. He probably thought you wouldn’t be there, but his eyes looked for you before he took his helmet off. You watched as he nodded and sat down on the edge of the roof, still not as close to you as you secretly wanted.

“You never told me your name,” he said, nonchalantly, as if he's commenting about the weather.

“You never asked.” You shrugged, offering your pack of cigarettes again, as if he hadn’t gone through that whole lecture the night before. He looks at it, then looks back at you, shaking his head.

The routine went on for about two months: you two would hang out on the rooftop of your apartment building, usually at night, and make small talk. You’d never admit it, but you googled him one night, before he arrived, and noticed his personal instagram was private. Only the professional account was public, and the pictures were either from charity events, or promotional merchandise pictures. 

He seemed like a textbook, perfect hero.

Until you saw him smoking.

“Prohero Cellophane spotted being a hypocrite,” you say when you approach, crossing your arms and tilting your head to the side. And then you mirror his own words, with an impression of his voice, “You know those things are bad for your health, right?”

Sero turns around and pauses for a second when he realizes it’s you. A slick smile curves his lips and his eyes are hooded as they run through your body. You chose a tighter dress than you’re used to wearing, and his eyes stop at your cleavage for so long that you’re almost self conscious about it. But then, he speaks and you just know he’s not sober.

“What are you, a stalker?” His voice is much deeper than it usually is and it makes you tingle.

“I could ask you the same.” You blow the smoke from your lips, “I was sad, so my friend brought me to the club to cheer me up.”

“What were you sad for?” Sero is now fully facing you, a hand inside his pocket, the other bringing the cigarette to lips again.

You shrug, “Life.”

He takes his time, sucking the smoke of the cigarette, eyes still on you, and you can’t help but think he looks so sexy right now. You don’t know if it’s the cigarette, or the clothes, or the fact he’s undressing you with his eyes, but he looks so fucking hot. And, not for the first time, you think about kissing him, about touching him, about running your hands on his chest, his abdomen until–

“Dude, are you introducing us, or…?” The blonde man that’s with him interrupts your thoughts. Sero clears his throat and swallows, seeming to also come back to real life.

“These are Kaminari, Sato and Jirou,” he says, stepping to the side so his friends are visible to you.

You say your name, waving awkwardly.

“You know, I am kinda hurt you’ve never accepted my Malboros. Here I was, thinking you were actually thinking about my health.”

Sero laughs, “That watermelon shit isn’t for me.”

You pause, feigning offense.

“Well.” You sniff, jokingly, “I’ll have you know I’ve moved to mint. Is that okay with you?”

The smile that graces his features is so infuriatingly hot.

“Yeah. That’s better.”

The sexual tension is so palpable and the moment of silence between you two is so loud, you can feel it in your heartbeat. It seems to last forever and just a few seconds at the same time, and all you want to do is spend time with this guy. You don’t want to go back to your friend, you really don’t want to break eye contact, but you still say,

“I should probably go back. My friend might be looking for me.”

“Right,” Sero clears his throat, “be careful on your way back.”

You smile at him, “Be careful when you land on my roof later. Or you can use the door, like a normal person. Apartment 7B.”

Your heart races as you turn around to walk back to the club. You can’t believe you invited him over like that. Well, it’s an open invitation, but still.

“Dude,” Kaminari says, watching you walk away.

“Shut up.” Sero sighs, closing his eyes and cringing.

“She was flirting with you,” Jirou laughs, “You know that, right?”

“Fuck.”

“That was a very straightforward invitation,” Sato laughs.

Sero groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fuck.”

…

Sero's hand shakes as he raises it to knock on your apartment door. He doesn't know how long he stood there, on the rooftop, trying to hype himself, trying to sober up enough so he can see you.

He never thought this would happen. He's been wanting to make a move on you for weeks, but you've only seen him when he's on hero duty. He didn't want you to think prohero Cellophane was a creep.

Somehow, you catching him smoking isn't much better.

He knocked three times, after releasing a breath. Apartment 7B, you said. It wasn't hard for him to find it, given he took a shortcut coming from the roof. The longer you took to open the door, the more his confidence faded. What if you changed your mind? What if you're looking at him through the peephole, watching as he fusses over his hair and thinking he looks ridiculous? What if–

The door opens, interrupting his inner questions, and you show up with the sleepiest face on Earth. Your hair is messy and you're wearing what seems are pajama pants and an extra large Gorillaz T-shirt.

“You took so long, I'm not even horny anymore,” you say, rubbing your eye to chase the sleep away.

His heart sinks, “Sorry. I can come back some other–”

“No.” You grab his hand and pull him inside your apartment, closing the door behind you. Sero doesn't even have time to look around his apartment before you're pulling him towards your bedroom. You walk to a nearby laundry basket and toss him a pair of sweatpants and get on the bed, sighing.

“It's a man's sweats,” you say when you notice his hesitation, “hurry up, the bed's getting cold.”

Confusion must be clear on his face, because you laugh and lean on your elbow, smiling at him.

“Having second thoughts?” you joke, but when he doesn't laugh, you sit up on the bed, “We can have sex in the morning, if you want. I'm sorry I'm not–”

“No, it's just–” Sero has the urge to laugh at the situation. He's known you for like three months, but he feels like it's been ages. He’s strangely comfortable around you. And it makes him want to know you more. “Your roommate is a guy?”

You laugh, lying back down on the mattress, watching as he starts to undress. An act so intimate, but you don't feel the need to look away.

“Why, you jealous?”

A pang of guilt stabs him in the heart. Is he jealous?

“God, you're hot.” You mumble as he takes his shirt off and tosses it on your desk. That makes him smile.

Sero accepts your invitation to lie down as you lift the blankets in the bed. He gets on it, the fabric of the sheets stained with your warmth and smell. His head hits the pillow and, only now, he realizes how tired he is. Your warm hands snake through his torso, running your palms on his chest and abdomen, before wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer, your body flush with his.

“They're my brother's.” Your quiet voice interrupts the moment.

“What?”

“The sweatpants. They're my brother's.”

He laughs softly and wraps his arm around you, pulling you even closer. Your head tucks under his chin and you inhale his scent: alcohol, cigarettes, and a faint hint of cologne. It takes you only a few seconds before you're asleep again.

Sero's eyes are heavy as well, but he tries to fight sleep, wanting to spend as much time with you. You're so magnetic, he can't help it but to stay with you for as long as he can.

But sleep comes to him as quickly as it comes to you and he can't wait to wake up tomorrow.

me at smoker sero:

[bellesdreamyprofile]

a baby miracle: part 6

“Where are my little honeybees?”, you smiled at the familiar sound of Benny’s voice. You looked over your shoulder and noticed a giddy smile forming on your baby’s face. A lil´ daddy’s girl. You couldn’t really blame her though, because, in a way, you were too.

Matilda made animalistic noises as she tore the pancakes you had made earlier in big chunks - probably too overwhelmed with the excitement she was feeling upon her daddy’s arrival. You sighed at the mess before you and picked up her little plastic fork from the floor. You wiped it up and set it in front of her again. “Alrighty, Tilly, no more messy hands please.”, you looked at her and poked her chubby cheek. The baby just laughed, almost mocking you.

Warm hands on your waist made you jump a little, the reaction earning a snicker from Benny. “Honeybee being a lil´ troublemaker again?”. A breathy laugh left your lips as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, his lips leaving kisses on your cheek.

“I don’t think she’s a huge fan of pancakes, quite honestly.”, you said truthfully and pointed with a finger at the mess that had yet to be cleaned up. All while Matilda was staring at the two of you with big, curious eyes.

Benny shook his head and unwrapped his arms from around you and silently approached his daughter. Matilda’s little eyes followed her daddy’s movements, even as he squatted down in front of the highchair. Benny picked up a chunk of pancake and put it in his mouth, humming at the sweet taste.

“See, babygirl? Mama made them and they’re so good, yes?”, Matilda instinctively picked up a torn chunk of the sweet and pecked it with her lips. Benny laughed and moved his eyes on you, wanting to make sure you hadn’t missed the moment. You shook your head with a small smile and leaned against the doorframe.

“No, bee, no kissing the pancake. You eat it. Like this, look.”, and he went on to put another half chewed pancake in his mouth.

You crossed your arms on your chest and smiled at the interaction. “You know, honey… I can fix you a quick lunch if you’re hungry.”, your tone was laced with tease, but it made him chuckle.

He glanced your way and smiled. “I’m good eating bee’s food, thank you very much.”, you rolled your eyes as you bit back a smile. You moved on in front of the sink, starting to clean up your daughter’s mess, stealing glances at the two of them every now and then. An inevitable smile made its way on your face, thinking about how far you’ve all come along.

The day you found out you were pregnant was the day you thought you lost Benny to his past and insecurities. The day your daughter was born was the day you thought you lost Benny to the club. The day you brought your little bee home from the hospital was the day you thought you lost Benny to your own mistrusting feelings. 

No, he wasn’t right for missing the birth of your daughter and it wasn’t exactly fair to you either, but what was the point of life if we all held resentment to one another? You couldn’t. Especially because you knew that beneath Benny’s rough exterior was a heart of gold. The man worshipped the ground you walked on - also he worshipped every pancake chunk Matilda threw at him.

Life is no easy ride, but that’s why rollercoasters are so fun. Each bump with its ups and downs makes it incredibly unique. And why not experience that rollercoaster with a man like Benny?

“Baby, today is that picture thing at the club, remember?”, you blinked as you were rushed back to reality. You dried your hands with a small towel and hummed, turning around.

“Yes, of course I remember, honey. That's the whole reason why we bought that little denim jacket before Matilda was even born.”, you commented with a smile at the sweet memory.

Benny picked up your daughter and set her on his hip. “And the little pink booties. Let’s not forget those.”, he said in a softer voice and smooched Matilda’s cheek.

Without even being able to step foot in the club, you heard Johnny’s booming voice coming closer.

“Alright, where’s my little niblet?”, little Matilda’s feet kicked in Benny’s hold as Johnny reached his hands out for her. You laughed with your husband at your bee’s silly reaction.

“Oh, Johnny, your hair is looking real nice.”, you complimented. Johnny tickled Matilda and finally took her in his arms.

He did a little jump with her in his arms, making your baby squeal in delight. “Thanks, kid. Betty made sure I looked nice and proper.”, he rolled his eyes. “But look at this little princess with the little jacket.”

You wrapped an arm around Benny’s waist and smiled. “And the pink boots.”, your husband chimed in. Matilda wiggled her little feet as if to show uncle Johnny what her daddy was fussing over.

“Alright, let’s go. Everyone’s waitin´. You’re the last ones to arrive.”

“Benny didn’t know how to style his hair.”, you said teasingly, making Johnny snicker. Benny rolled his eyes and bumped his shoulder with yours.

“Lady Benjamin and her hair. Of course.”

After some swear words were thrown around, at which you scolded them both for, you finally made your way in the club. The guys, their wives and kids all ran over to finally meet and get to know the club’s newest member. Your heart soared at the love everybody already seemed to have for your little bee.

“Okay, now let’s try one more picture. A serious one this time.”, you quickly turned around and fixed Benny’s collar. He smiled and winked at you.

“Well, if you’re fixin´ mine, I gotta fix yours too, no?”, the teasing tone withheld hints of seduction, making your cheeks burn. You shifted Matilda to your right hip as Benny’s fingers pulled at your collar.

“Doesn't seem like you're fixin´ nothing, Benny.”, you said in a small tone.

“Oh yeah?”, the tone in his voice dropped lower, making it incredibly hard for you to keep your composure. Your brows shot to your forehead, wondering what this crazy man had in plan next.

“I’ll show you fixing´ honey.”, and right as the click on the camera went off, his lips were pressed on yours. 

Your little girl squealed in your arms, though nobody seemed to notice that the picture wasn’t as perfect as it had to be. You fought the urge not to sigh into the familiarity of that kiss. The kind of familiarity you could never get enough of, because it was all yours.

“I love you, baby.”, you were the one who leaned in for another kiss, but this time it was crystal clear for everybody.

“Lord have mercy. There goes baby number two.”

THE END

A/N: what a ride! I love these two so much 🥺 let me know what your thoughts are on the series & this chapter xx wishing all of you peace and love xx

MASTERLIST christmas special

Taglist: @leonesimp @cwallace02sblog @alexa4040 @notaceventura @wonderland2425 @thefastclownprince @ughdontbeboring @imusicaddict

[1-800-local-slut]

I so desperately need more liam smut 😫😫 literally searching the ends of the universe to find good liam content and i found your blog!

And idk if you write for Issac Lahey but if you feel up to it id love some Switch!Issac smut

Nasty Dog

Liam's never wanted something so bad, and things get a little nasty when you come over to watch a movie.

Liam Dunbar x Black! McCall! Reader

Warnings: smut, male masturbation, unprotected sex (guys please wear condoms) , Liam is a munch, Liam is pathetic over you like he literally drools at the sight of you

Note- Scott and the reader are cousins, so obviously you have a black parent. Black people can be any shade of black despite having a white parent! I'm always going to be a whore for any of Scott's friends being down bad for his sister, but I wanted to switch things up a little

Thank you for the request and I hope you like this enough to send another one <3

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Pathetic, Liam felt so pathetic. He felt his cheeks burning, not only from the shame but speed of which he was pumping his hand up and down his dick that also felt very hot.

He just met you. Not even an hour ago, it took 45 minutes and a game of Twister that he had to hide in the bathroom and attempt to make it fast. He had gotten lucky; Scott had gone to the airport to pick up your mom since you took the train in so he couldn't hear him pathetically humping his hand to the mental image he couldn't erase of you bending backwards with both feet firmly planted to put your left hand on red under Stiles's arm (who's heart sped up so fast when you jumped into his arms thrilled to see him again that Liam thought he was about to have a heart attack) and victoriously grin.

How else could you bend for Liam? It was close to the Supermoon, and lately Liam's anger was channeling into horniness. Your arrival literally could not have been at a worse time. His shirt shoved into his mouth; his abs flexed as his thumb rubbed over his sensitive tip and he bit back a loud growl.

Before the game of twister, they were all sitting around having some fruit punch and kid friendly drinks and you revealed you were a cheerleader for your school and Scott showed them this video of the two of you having an acrobatic little race across through your backyard last Summer. He was hard the minute he saw you in that swimsuit- holy shit the swimsuit.

His eyes squeezed shut as he recalled how you looked in that bikini in the video. Your tits bounced each time you came up right, your legs toned and entire body a darker brown than it is now due to the Summer Sun. His heart pounded through his chest, as he aimed into the toilet to save himself some decency. He was losing it. He was imagining you kissing him with those soft, plump lips. You, hugging him again but this time being completely naked. You, sitting on his dick and riding it like a rollercoaster. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit-

He came with a hardly contained growl, blood rushing through his ears as he felt like a bottle of champagne was just popped in his groin. In a good way. He, because he was ridiculously horny kept aggressively fucking his hand, whimpering from the overstimulation. He couldn't stop pumping himself until he went limp and felt the world start to revert to normal.

And after a very shameful washing of his hands, he checked his watch and saw he kept it to a very inconspicuous two minutes. His legs felt like jelly, and he willed his heart to slow down and rinsed cold water over his face praying the redness of his cheeks would fade fast enough. His legs felt like warm jelly, he bets you feel like warm jelly inside, and with shakey hands opened the door as he made his way back downstairs. It was probably his turn.

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Since becoming a werewolf, Liam had gained some animalistic tendencies. He found himself wanting to chase down squirrels who were unlucky enough to cross his path, scratched the back of his ears like his life depended on it, and the game of catch was far more thrilling now. Oh, and drooling. Whenever he gets excited now. According to Scott, this wasn't applicable to all werewolves because Scott has never had that problem.

But right now, Liam found himself excited at the fact that you two were locked in an intense make out session. Like a virgin Liam basically forgot how sex works for a second. You'd been here three weeks and each day was impossible for Liam.

And apparently, he'd done a number on you as well.

You whined on top of him, as you two parted for air and Liam wished you had just let him suffocate under the weight of your smooches. You pulled your shirt off and revealed your chest, and Liam didn't even try to stop himself. He tenderly placed both hands on the sides your boobs, running his thumbs over your covered nipples. His eyes went wide as he admired the delicate lacing on your bra, and he was starting to think that when you came over this was your plan all along. You let out a sensual moan, neck rolling and your body shuddered you let your eyes gently flutter shut.

Liam felt his mouth watering at the sight of you, you just looked so perfect. Part of him wanted to leave your bra on you. The color perfectly matching your skin and the dim lights of Liam's bedroom made you look like an angel, the TV on behind you two illuminating you with an angelic glow behind you. He felt shakey, his insides trembling.

What does he do next? It was like he'd never seen a girl before, the way he forgot what to do. Did he unhook your bra? Slide off your bottoms and then your underwear? Shit was he thinking too long?

Pressing a kiss to the top of one of your boobs, he felt how hot your skin was underneath his touch as he felt his legs twitch and his dick jump in his sweatpants. Speaking of; you slowly snaked your hand down his chest, and down his stomach. Fingers trailing over his happy trail before you slipped you hand into his boxers before you gently wrapped your hand around his cock.

His heart started jumping and he was so happy you couldn't hear the way his pace was picking up. He pressed kisses across your chest, sucking bruises into your chest passionately and with shakey hands he unlatched your bra. It was a cute sigh of relief as you felt your chest freed, eyes looking down at him with a look that Liam couldn't place but his suspicion was starting to feel right. You certainly had planned this.

He shook underneath you, as you planted kisses on his face and the two of you became an untangled mess of heavy breathing and rough kisses. Your nipples pressed against his chest, and he leaned backwards, hitting the headboard and the next time you two pulled apart it was his turn again. He pulled his shirt up and you helped him the rest of the way by basically ripping his shirt off him.

If he wanted to make out all night, he would continue his pattern of kissing you, but he'd be stupid to just make out with the topless girl sitting on top of him. Slowly, he started to prepare to do what he had too.

Liam enjoyed very much the strength of being a werewolf. It was helpful when it came to lifting you off of him and placing you down on the side of the bed. God, you were so perfect. Your pupils massive as you observed him with curiosity, while he got up and came around to the side, bending down to capture your lips in a kiss. Slowly, he worked his way down your body, and you were never slow on the uptake.

He slid down the biker shorts you wore that made your ass look like a pillow. He went down, his eyes pleased to see the matching underwear you wore. Totally planned it. Running his tongue over the lining of your underwear, he felt a surge of confidence and power when you shuddered, hands running through his hair like it was a life line.

His lips found your inner thighs, leaving hickeys and bite marks all over the inside of your thighs as he licked you once more. Then he planted a kiss against your cunt, feeling how wet you were through the thin fabric. Your shaking legs would've been great if he couldn't feel the fear radiating off your body. Popping his head up to look at you he tilted his head up and you let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Is something wrong?"

"No!"

It was cute how desperate you were to continue. You were horny, you were. But something else seemed wrong. He laid his head on one of your soft thighs and looked up at you with pleading eyes. He couldn't in good consciousness go on with how he could sense you feeling.

"No one's ever...eaten me out."

And Liam's brain was rewired immediately. How? From the moment he met you, he wanted you to sit on his face and crush his skull open with your legs. He had to keep the perversions at bay for long enough not to scare you away.

"It's okay." He assured you running his thumbs over the flesh of your legs.

Pressing a kiss to your hip, while he slowly slid your underwear down your legs and tossed them somewhere behind him.

"I'll take care of you. Promise."

With that boyish charm that girls found it basically impossible to resist. You nodded and gave you this smile that made your heart flutter. Slowly he pushed your legs open, eyes never leaving yours and then looked down at you.

You were perfect down there. Wet and shiny, it was calling to him like a cool spring in the middle of the desert. He ran his tongue over your opening, and you let out a soft 'oh' with your head rolled back and you gripped his hair tightly. From there he couldn't just stop.

He started slowly, basically making out with your pussy in a way that had you moaning out soft cries. Perfect, just perfect. His strong arms lifted your legs, placing them over his shoulders, while he sucked on your clit and your legs began to shake around him.

Liam was a dog, in more ways than one. His hips rolling into the mattress like it was you. You were letting out moans that spurred him on while he flicked his tongue over your clit and your back arched for him. He couldn't help but slide his tongue inside of you, and you jumped at the intrusion. How did anyone resist the urge to do this to you? To have you, basically the most perfect woman he's ever seen, unraveling under their tongue.

To have you gasping and sweating as he flicked his tongue over your clit with legs squeezing tighter by the moment. He wanted to taste you cumming on his face and he would do so or die trying. He pulled your entire hips into his face. You began grinding your hips, one hand pulling his hair and the other gripping his bed sheets.

Hips jumping while he slurped on you. The noises and sounds coming from the two of you were filthy, he couldn't live without hearing those noises again. He gave one particular thrust into the bed that had him on the verge of cumming in his pants. Your hips started jumping, voice getting louder and louder, and you began aggressively riding his head.

You came with a loud cry of his name. He gave your thighs a squeeze while you locked your legs around his head while using him to ride out your orgasm. What a great way to suffocate.

Your eyes were shut until you came back down to Earth while you unlocked your legs and flopped backwards onto the bed. Fighting the urge to give himself a pat on the back, Liam licked his lips savoring the taste of you on his lips. He was throbbing in his pants, like his dick was about to explode.

Never, in all the years of his life, has Liam wanted something so badly. He cupped your sweaty face and pressed a passionate kiss to your lips. His hands over your head while you grabbed his wrist and melted into his touch.

Slowly, he slipped out of his sweatpants and out of his boxers. He was leaking from his tip and he mentally started trying to remember something- anything- to keep him from ending the show early. You looked him in the eyes, like you were saying 'hurry up please'. Liam wasn't one to disappoint .

Making space in between your legs, he kept his gaze locked with yours. All at once he went inside of you and it was better than he had imagined. Better than the past three weeks he spent stalking your Instagram while scrolling through your summer pictures and ignoring the growing possession he felt when he saw you posing with a male friend while he spat on his hand and jerked off until he saw stars. For a few rounds, when he was finding porn stars who looked like you or sounded like you. Until one night he was shooting blanks and passed out for about ten seconds covered in his own mess. The shame he felt when he woke up didn't even matter because it all led up to this.

You were warm and tight, and already soaking him in your juices. You both let out a disgusting moan as he tried to get his bearings. He slowly started moving, setting a passionate pace as he let himself roll his hips into you with no self-restraint. Liam's drooling issue almost shot him in the foot there, and he ducked his face in between your boobs as he let out a low groan. He felt you let go of his wrist, and pulling his face up from your chest.

You held eye contact with him, your eyes revealing just how badly you'd been wanting this. How badly you wanted to feel him twitching against you while he tried to keep himself from giving you a creampie. You kissed him, tongues roaming eachothers mouths and while picked up the pace. Your boobs jumped, underneath him while his abs pressed against the smooth skin of your stomach. He hit a spot, that had you break apart to let out a high-pitched moan.

Righttt there. That's where he needed to be. You stared into his eyes, biting one of your lips on instinct while trembling. He pushed himself up, to end this little body roll thing he had been doing into you. Your arms came up to wrap around his neck, as if you couldn't stand to not be touching him and Liam felt his heart warm a little at how clingy you were to him.

He set a rougher pace, he needed to see your boobs moving up and down. He needed to see you unravel, to hear you plead for more. You began letting out high pitched moans, and your legs wrapped around his hips. He was hypnotized. The way you sounded, looked, felt, smelt, you were driving him crazy and didn't even know it. He slammed into you like it was his last day on Earth.

He kept going, the way you were basically begging him too with your eyes shut. You looked amazing. He couldn't help but to reach down and hold you softly by the neck and leaning down. Truthfully, he was about to explode, and he had to still his hips for a second. And he wanted another kiss. Eventually, he resumed his strong thrusts and pressed his thumb to your clit.

He was amazed when he looked down, looking at the way cream of liquid you left around the base of his cock. He began moving his thumb and for a moment you stopped breathing. It was like all the air got sucked out of your lungs as your voice climbed in volume. He was so thankful his mother and step-dad were out for the night because then he'd have to have a very uncomfortable conversation.

The headboard slammed into the wall. Liam was on a mission; he was hell bent. He needed to cum with you. And he was just about to get what he wanted. You let out small whimpers, whispering between gasps and moans that you were about to cum. He couldn't even force himself to stop for a second to delay his own orgasm, he felt it rushing through him like water. You gripped the hand he was holding your face with and jumped off the mattress as you squeezed him tightly while gushing around his base.

He came so hard his entire body tensed up. He did mean to pull-out, but his impulse control wasn't always the strongest. As he slowed his hips down, you two slowed your breathing. It was like he just ran a marathon and got a runners high. Perfect. That was perfect, you were perfect.

Slowly he pulled out of you, watching a stream of his cum leaking out of you. Damn, he was already ready for round two.

[kamotecue]

the one that got away ❆ l. williamson

pairing: leah williamson x fem!reader

summary: after you had torn your acl, it was deemed that you weren't able to return to your football career. so, what happens when you pursued something different, that the one you love, ended up being the one who got away? singer!reader

agony was what the blonde defender felt, it was the agony of losing you - the one that got away, for the english captain it was a relentless ache, the haunting melody of memories that lingers long after the music has stopped. her silent screams, the tumultuois storm of her emotions that threatens to consume every one of her thoughts and feelings. it was definitely a rollercoaster ride of emotions, the experience you both had together as a couple - the deep sense of grief and loss, the emptiness feeling that was impossible to feel, how every thought is consumed by the memories of you - how you'd both dance in the rain, her watching in amusement as you would always make blanket forts during movie nights, how she held onto you close as if you were going to disappear, and lastly, her favorite - the way she'd kiss you in private, how she showed you what it's like to be loved.

yet there it was, the winter of 2011 - you had suffered an anterior cruciate ligament injury making everything fall down, as much as you tried there was nothing that you could do. and so, you had left the football world, despite being the arsenal prodigy. a knock was heard, as you gazed at your bedroom door - the blonde defender had carefully opened the door, she looked at your eyes to see them filled with tears, knowing how this moment would change everything. your career ending injury, the one you sustained was not just a blow to your body, but a devestating blow to your dreams. you had worked so hard, sacrificed so much, to reach the pinnacle of yourcareer, only to have it all taken away in an instant.

"i won't be playing alongside you, as we thought, lee." your voice broke as you buried your face into the crook of her neck. the blonde reaching to softly rub your back, in an attempt to calm you which it did. the sniffles was heard throughout the house, yet all she could do was be there for you. it took you a while to accept circumstance, so you moved onto something else - music was the second, no third thing you loved - besides football, and the english defender. a year later, you took off into the music industry with a storm - you decided to form a band with your childhood friends, performing in sold-out stadiums, releasing a whole album - and it was even worse when the band had even gotten more famous.

in the early days, the love between you two was a bright flame, burning fiercely and passionately. but as your music career soared to unimaginable heights, the glare of fame cast a shadow over their relationship, changing everything. you had never anticipated the level of fame and scrutiny that would come with the band's success. everywhere you went, you were followed by a throng of fans and paparazzi, eager for a glimpse into your glamorous life. in which the pressure to maintain your image became suffocating, and you knew that any hint of scandal could spell disaster for your career. asmuch as you loved the blonde defender, you also knew that being seen with her in public could invite unwanted attention and speculation. that's why you couldn't bear the thought of her being surrounded by the media, or having her privacy invaded - as she loved being private. and so, with a heavy heart, you made the painful decision to push her away, thinking it was for the best.

at first, lee was confused and hurt with the way you acted, the unnesscary coldness. you tried to explain it, to make her understand the pressure you were under, but the damage had already been done, the trust between you two had been shattered, despite your best intentions - it couldn't be repaired. so as the distance between you two grew, your love began to wither and fade - the bright flame that had once burned so brightly was now nothing more than a flicker, barely illuminating the darkness that crept into the relationship. in the end, you were alone - your fame and success, a hollow comfort for the love that you'd lost. you often find yourself pondering, if you made the right choice, if pushing her away had been the only option, but deep down, you knew that the price of fame had been too high, and that you'd always regret the day that you'd let her slip away.

yet there you were, in front of her eyes - performing in front of 90,000 fans. she still loves you, and a part of her is hoping that you still do. and you do, you still do - there are countless nights were you're looking up at the hotel ceiling, a lingering ache in your heart for the love you had lost, the one that could've been yours if fate had not intervened. you'd often wondered how things could've been different if the acl injury had never happened, perhaps you would've never pursued music with such fervor, instead choosing a quieter life by her side. the lazy mornings spent in bed, tangeled in each other's embrace, and peaceful evenings watching as the sun would set, hand in hand. but reality was cruel, and the injury shattered not just your dreams but also the future you had envisioned with her. and as the final notes of your song had faded away, you closed your eyes, imagining for a brief moment that she was there in the crowd, that the blue eyes you had fallen in love with - and when you opened them, she was. a wide smile was seen on her face, as you noticed the tears in her eyes that were begging to drop, she was watching you with pride and love.

the crowd had cheered, as you looked away - greeted them with a small smile, as you bid goodbye. her eyes followed as you left the stage, a concerned look was seen throughout your bandmate's eyes. the crowd began to leave, one by one - yet a dazed look was shown on her face, you saw her, yet you haven't made the effort to do anything. maybe you shouldn't, maybe you couldn't or maybe you didn't have to.

"come on, lee - the concert is done." beth, her club and national teammate said, as a soft sigh was heard. she didn't notice a tour staff had walked her way. you had given orders to invite her teammate's backstage. the defender had only looked up when she took note of the unfamiliar ones, her eyes locked onto someone in uniform, the lanyard confirming that she worked for, or with you.

"ms. williamson, i presume? i was ordered to give you these backstage passes, as well as to escort you backstage." the worker said, as her eyes gazed to the passes in her hands, beth and a few others, their eyes had widened in shock. she slowly stood up before nodding to the girl, as every step began to feel a bit heavy for the defender, you walked back in forth in your changing room - wondering if it was the right choice.

it was, as the team had been led backstage, leah had caught the eyes of your three childhood best friends - people that she also knows, as she formed a friendship with the trio while you were dating. an amused look was seen on oliver's face, as he stood up to greet the team.

"never thought i'd see you again, lee." oliver's charming voice was heard, catching the eyes of his two other bandmate's "childhood friends". a soft smile was shown on archie's and adeline's face.

"neither did i" the english captain's voice was calm, gaining the attention of oliver who softly hummed.

"we've missed you, but she misses you more." oliver replied, he gazed at your dressing room door - it opened, revealing you.

[elsblunt]

abby anderson . drabble?

warnings : based in 80’s , fem reader … think thats it!

“ look at ya, such a pretty thing. “

a flash came after a click to your camera, the one abby had bought you for your birthday. there was a light breeze that flew past your dress and hair, a leather jacket draped over your torso, the one abby gave you.

it was dark outside, the area lit up by different rollercoasters and booths. it smelt like fried food, the sound of music and people’s laughter and conversations rung throughout the air.

“baby, put the camera down!” abby chuckled as you took another picture, she tried to sound annoyed, but her giant grin showed otherwise. “nope, gotta keep your pretty face in my pocket at all times.” you tease, smiling and slipping the camera into your purse. abby couldn’t help but notice how your hips moved while you walked. the loose sky blus dress that hung over your body, falling at your upper thighs. the bra you shown to her in the car.

abby stood beside you, despite the other strong smells, she was hung on your strawberry perfume that seeped into her jacket. she was never washing it again.

you were tempting, she just wanted to pick you up and squeeze you, press trillions of kisses to your body. god, you would be the end of her.

“so, what ride we headin’ to?” the blonde looked around. watching as you click your tongue and search around. you guys had been at the carnival for about an hour and a half now, feet sore from the walk, hearts pumped up from the trillion rides you dragged her to. “hey, how about we go to the photo booth?”

“lead the way, darling.”

you giggle before sitting down, adjusting your dress and scooting over, making space for your girlfriend. she clicks a few buttons, slipping in a few coins.

for the first picture, abby wrapped her arm around your shoulder, locking you in her grip and against her side. pressing a kiss to your head as you laughed and scrunched up your face.

snap! the booth flashed white. “shit, shit! uh…” abby groans. you brought her face closer to yours, the sides of them touching. the heat from your cheeks coming in contact. it didn’t matter how long you were together or how many dates you went on, abby would still get flustered. even over that tough shell.

snap! the white flash came again. “last one!” you giggle. the blue eyed girl grabbed your cheeks, bringing you in for a deep kiss. it was a typical last picture at the photo booths, the kiss. the one you two had seen in many movies and shows, the one you always wanted to recreate. the one abby had to watch over and over cause you loved rom coms that much, and she loved you that much to rewatch them.

snap! the white flash didn’t stop the kiss, continuing before having to break for air. and grab your pictures. you smiled and tapped her cheek, peeking out the booth and grabbing them.

“we look so cute, baby!” you point to the pictures, giving her one more kiss on the cheek. abby’s lips pulled into a smile as she grabbed the little pictures from you, looking at them herself. “we do look pretty cute.” she chuckles and slips them into her jeans.

“gotta keep your pretty face in my pocket.”

this is a super old draft from literally last year.. so bare with me!

[thatchickwiththecamera]

Two Pink Lines

This is from a request sent to me by @lma1986

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Female Reader

TW: Pregnancy difficulties, implied past loss.

The soft glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the window of the bedroom where she sat waiting for the timer to finish counting down. For the past few weeks, she had been riding an emotional rollercoaster. Fear and anxiety mixed together with joy and excitement. Today, though, she felt something she hadn't dared to let herself feel for a long time: Hope. 

The timer on her phone sounded and she looked at the tiny white stick lying on the table, a wave of disbelief washing over her. It was actually real. After years of trying and countless disappointments, it was right there. Two pink lines. Her heart raced as she imagined the little life growing inside her. 

She was able to get an appointment with her OB/GYN a few days later and Dr. Matthews confirmed that she was in fact pregnant. She estimated her to be about 10 weeks along and calculated a due date for the middle of October.

Y/N stared in awe at the screen of the ultrasound machine as the tech pointed out the little bean that was her baby. Hot tears sprang from her eyes as the rapid tempo of the heartbeat filled the silent room. 

With a flutter of excitement, she picked up her phone and texted Bryan, the band’s media director. He was one of the few she trusted with this secret.

Hey, Bryan! I need your help with something! Can I call you?

Minutes later, her phone buzzed.

Absolutely!

Nerves ate at her as she listened to the phone ring.

“Hey, what’s up?” He answered. 

“Are you around any of the guys?” She asked. 

“Noooo, I’m on the bus editing, everyone else is in the venue for soundcheck.” He replied. “Why?”

“Okay. You can’t tell anyone, but I took a test earlier this week and went to the doctor today to confirm.” she explained, excitement filtering through “and well…I’m currently 10 weeks pregnant!”

“WHAT?!” He yelled, before clearing his throat with a cough and continuing with a lower volume of voice. “Holy shit! Congratulations!” 

“Thank You, Bry! I want to surprise Noah with the news and I need your help” She asked. 

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Bryan replied.

“I have the perfect idea!” 

Y/N and Bryan eventually had to loop Matt and Alana in on the plan as well. They needed them both in order to finalize all the logistics of getting Y/N to the east coast and sneaking her into the venue for the surprise. But they also needed their help to actually pull of the surprise without anyone else noticing. 

The night of the show arrived, the venue was alive with energy and anticipation. She hid backstage in one of the green rooms, heart racing as she watched Noah on stage through the venue's monitor system. She watched him put his heart and soul into performing, the music wrapping around him like a second skin. It was moments like this that made her fall in love with him all over again.

One by one they ticked songs off the set list. Alana quickly and quietly retrieved Y/N from the room and ushered her to a hiding spot back behind the stage risers. 

The final notes of Dethrone rang out and the crowd went crazy as the stage lights came back on for the boys to do their bows. As the boys walked back out to center stage, the lights dimmed again. 

Instead of the regular montage set to a Matchbox Twenty song, a montage of her and Noah’s life together popped up on the giant screen. Noah watched in confusion as the video Bryan made played set to the song they used for the first dance. 

Noah stared at the screen, the smile on his face growing wider with each clip. Y/N took this moment of distraction to quietly slip out onto the stage and stand behind him. 

Bryan had edited together clips from their wedding video, candid videos from when they were dating, and behind the scenes clips of the two on music video sets and backstage over the years. The video ended on the “Now Loading” screen the boys usually use to tease their fans. 

The lights came back up and the crowd erupted into cheers as they recognized who stood behind the singer.

Noah turned around to find his wife standing in front of him with a onesie that said “BABY OMENS” in the same font as the band’s logo. 

Noah’s face, a mix of shock and elation transformed into sheer joy. Nick, Jolly, and Folio jumped and hollered with excitement as they realized what was happening. 

Noah rushed toward his wife and scooped her up into his arms and spun her around a few times before finally setting her back down. 

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice barely barely audible over the sound of the crowd as he held her face in his hands.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she nodded, laughter and joy mingling in her chest. 

“I’m serious!”

Bryan captured every moment—their embrace, the sparkle in Noah’s eyes, the overwhelming wave of love that surrounded them. In that instant, time felt suspended, and the world faded away, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble of happiness.

“I can’t believe it!” Noah said, pulling back to look into her eyes. “We’re going to be parents!” 

The crowd continued to cheer.

As Noah leaned down to kiss her, Bryan captured the moment, the camera clicking away, freezing the pure joy radiating from the couple.

The kiss lingered, sweet and tender, before Noah pulled back, still holding her gaze.

“This is the best surprise ever. I’m so proud of you. You’ve been so strong through all of this.”

Y/N felt the weight of his words settle warmly in her heart. 

“I couldn’t have done it without you. You’ve always believed in me, in us.”

Noah turned back to the audience, the light in his eyes bright. 

“I’M GONNA BE A DAD!” He yelled, raising Y/N’s hand in the air, showing the onesie. 

“We’re adding a new member to the Omens crew!”

The crowd erupted again, a sea of cheers and applause echoing off the venue walls. Y/N laughed, the sound clashing with the post show playlist that started playing through the venue. 

Y/N stood to the side as the band took their final bows before the house lights turned on and the fans began to shuffle out of the building. 

When he walked off stage, Noah wrapped her up in his arms once more. Y/N knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would navigate them together. The future was bright, and for the first time in a long time, it felt like anything was possible.

[ivys-garden]

Life Series Recap Finale.

The end has came and went. All Wild cards are spent. Who lived, who died? Brace yourself, its a wild ride.

Bigb

And so the first falls.

First, Bigb says goodbye to himself. Or more accurately, his giant face in the woods. He then meets up with his team, saying how proud he is that they stayed together. For a team who didn't trust him they work very well together and trust each other very much, white Pearl giving Bigb her chest plate to help him survive just a bit longer.

Bigb and his Bestie, Ren, are chosen to be the distraction force so the team can go and put Creakings in the Bammers base. Unfortunately this plan didn't work and so the Team has to wander around and try to find a new plan. During this time Bigb charms his way into Ethos heart and gets some of his old gear too.

He then tries to kill him with a mace. Ethos is a good sport about it though.

But, as they both are distracted by their trivia bots, neither is looking at Bigbshell and it is able to seek up on his human and kill him.

A shame too, he was one of my roots.

14 remain.

Scar

He did it. He built his roller coaster. Sure it took the death of both a dog and a skizz, but he did it. And with a really sick design as well! He was able to launch people F A R with this thing, and the people who rode it really ilenjoyed it, even if bdubs almost died to it unintentionally.

That's not to say it wasn't a coaster of death though, he did try to kill Joel with it, but unfortunately this did not pan out. In fact none of Scars Murder attempts panned out, with both a raid at the Cake Tower and a plan to murder Etho falling through, once due to wild card and once due to Scar being too nice a guy.

But, unfortunately, as Scar is doing a bot, eSCARgo is able to seek up and obliterate him. The coaster lays dormant for the remainder of the session.

13 remain.

Lizzie

Throughout this session Lizzie continues her role as the dastardly planner of the bammers, both in planning how to keep her team safe and how to kill the others.

She plans to use small size to avoid others, acts as snail duty for Jimmy and Scar and Was the one to help Scar finally finish the roller coaster, even losing out a zombified Skizz to be a glorified crash test dummy.

Oh yeah, Lizzie became a lich! Getting a Zombified Martyn, Skizz and…. Huh, guess the Watchers got to that one early. Anyway, she orders Martyn to bring her husband and gem to the mountain so she can blow them up with a newly built trap, unfortunately this doesn't work and the Wild card fades before her Lich-jesty can do anything more with her goons.

Aside from the Zombie shenanigans, Lizzie also plants a trap under the main bridge in the form of a Pufferfish. While her she uses her new shapeshifter powers, which were previously only used to mock Jimmy, to copy Scott's DNA. They then do what anyone would and start messing with people. Lizzie is able to convince Scott to let HER go on Scars rollercoaster so he can brag he's been on it for “marketing “...I think lizzie just wanted to go on the rollercoaster… shame since Scar had already converted it to a murder coaster at this point and she couldn't ride.

And then Scar died. Distraught and Robotizised she calls Jimmy back to the Bam-Bunker…. And then in an instant, Everything is gone.

12 remain.

Jimmy

He made it. He made it to the end. To the finale.

Naturally this makes him a lot more paranoid for both himself and his team. He's way more perspective, picking up on Scott's plan before he even executes it. And of course catching them and grian actively trying to kill them.

That isn't to sat he doesn't fall for traps, he almost kills himself accidentally by opening a trap chest gem made. Ironic with how close the bammers have been with the family, with joel saving Jim from a ravenger and giving him a diamond just this session.

But when Lizzie calls him back to The Bambunker, he responds immediately. But little could they know this sealed there fates. Grian, the maker of destiny, called to Jimmy at this moment, saying how “it was always gonna end this way” before Jimmy finally died. Try to find a more Watcher coded moment I dare you.

Also can we just appreciate how good the Bamboozelers were? One of the loyalist, most successful, well prepared and well planned teams we ever had. Genuinely great job, but still they are first out.

11 remain. So close, fly high next time, great Phoenix.

Impulse

Oh no, impulse.

The Gals weren't too happy that Impulse completely wiffed his Totem, apparently as a result of bad foot coordination and playing Minecraft with footpedels. I'd you ever need a reason to not play Minecraft with footpedels, there you have it. Yknow, apart from that being completely Wack.

Oh but that's not Impulses only failure, as he also revealed that he messed up his pitfall trap. After this humiliation and constant ribbing from his team, Impulse is kind to do some killing. He takes Cleo and Ren to raid the old base, gets ridden by Scott, and makes plans to finally kill Gem & Joel.

His first plan comes when Gem is distracted by Pearl being pathetic in front of her and boils down to just slapping Gem with a sword while Invisible. He thankfully backs off when Gem actually offers to fight back. He instead tries some trivia and almost dies to bees. He then rides Scars rollercoaster to calm down and OH FUCK THE BEES ARE BACK RUN AWAY

OK OK, Impulse has a new plan. Using the stupid amount of pearls he got from last episode he gets onto Gem's old shitty watch tower and builds a super TNT launcher. But, he doesn't watch his six and so iSnail is able to sneak up on him.

Impulse is desperate. Thirsty for blood. And so when he gets the Zombie power, he sticks most of the server on Joel, even joining the fray himself.

But in the chaos, etho gets confused, places just one Creeper and away went Impulse.

Maybe aggression won't win the season this time.

10 remain.

Scott

Scott dying before Joel? It's a Christmas miracle! Wait Scott is being really aggressive as well, we sure this is the same guy?

Scott starts the episode celebrating that his desire to spite us was actually able to keep the team together despite all odds and he reaffirms everyone's complete devotion to each other. Before immediately formulating a murder plot. The Gals go to the Bammers base to spawn every creaking they can, but are spotted very quickly. But if these results one thing scott is, its persistent, so He and Pearl go for round two. But anything scott is is easily distracted, so he ends up using his powers to become.murdr twinsies with pearl and just sit around in a whole as she astrals.

When they realise this plan is kinda stupid they decide to get Gem and Joel with it instead and are immediately discovered. Damn. But they go again next time there away and manage to plant all the hearts

… it took Gem like a minute to dig them all out.

Speaking of easily distracted scott also forgets who he's targeting repeatedly and just goes off to dick around. Doing stuff like riding an invisible Impulse or threatening Scar with a bamming of the mountain

But when Scott gets focused again he does so in a big way, being the only one to be able to go toe to toe with Joel during the massive manhunt for him. And as Scott has him cornered, he strikes Joel down.

Only for etho to academically shoot him.in the neck goddammit etho, again?

Hey at least Scott got to feel what it was like for Joel every season.

9 remain.

Gem

Gem counts to be paradoxically paranoid & bloodthirsty and.eager to befriend anyone who tries to kill her. She starts the session by trapping her own base with trapped chests, historically trapping your own base has been a crazy idea but it actually works very well here, nearly getting bdubs and Jimmy.

Joel then convuces Gem to come congratulate Jimmy on surviving. Resulting in them both reluctantly giving Scar and Jimmy diamonds as a reward. Then Lizzie turns around and sends a zombified martyn to lure them into a trap. Apparently there were no hard feelings about this though as Gem continues to be besties with lizzie literal seconds after she tried to atomise her.

Speaking of befriending your enemies, it's what you all been waiting for, the conclusion to the ongoing jewel box drama….

Gem runs around in a circle calling pearl Pathetic and cute as she tries and repeatedly fails to mace her in the face

Yep. That's how the drama ends. Honesty makes a lot of sense with the series as a whole, we might say that things are dramatic or Angsty or edgy or other words, but in reality everything is stupid and doesn't make any sense, so just have some fun and try to kill your friends!

But eventually Gem would have to die. When talking to etho about how great they all were, Etho just straight up blew her up. Like etho killed her, objectively and intentionally. Her family killed her. Needless to say she wasn't too chuffed about that, or the fact that he joined in when everyone started their manhunt for Joel.

But hey, now shes gotten rid of one unstable alliance and can get a new unstable alliance with Pearl! Yippie! Yeah pearl and gem TRY to become murder besties, despite the repeated interruptions of Joel and Cleo trying to kill one of them.

But, the worst interaction comes as a result of the world itself, as every wildcard becomes active. All at once…. Except hunger.

Either way the result is the same, in the chaos Gem experiences death via…. Vex. Really?

But hey, she died as she lived: not being killed by Pearl.

8 remain.

Etho

What did this little weasel get up to? Well he starts by gearing up his tuff guys with arrows and sending them off to go stealing things before meeting up with Cleo to see if the Gals need him to do anything. Using the arrows he had, bdubs stole and he got from cleo he Carstens a plan to Crossbow span anyone who comes near him. He also builds several traps underground he can activate with wind charges.

Now, Gem & Joel already distrust him now and he hasn't given The Gs ant reason to trust him and he isn't doing himself any favours as immediately after finding out scar rigged his roller coaster to kill people, he tries to get Joel to go on it. Later, when he gets the Zombie power he tries to get Skizz to blow up the car again and gets martyn to go after Scott for punching him off Bam mountain. When this fails, he instead tells them to try and kill Impulse for actually no reason.

Speaking of killing people for no reason, he blows Gem up when she's talking about how good a team they are. And then tries to gaslight Joel into thinking it wasn't intentional. Luckily Ethostropod gives him insta karma.

He then joins in the massive hunt to kill Joel. Using the strategies of Crossbow pelting and Creeper spam, one of which is countered by a Lava bucket and the other of which kills Impulse. He then continues trying to kill Joel and accidentally shoots Scott in the face.

Naturally, no one but his tuff guys are willing to trust him. And as Pearl, Cleo and Ren storm the Tuff Towers, Bdubs and Tango fall back. Etho, paranoid, believes that he's being abandoned, and activates his trap, killing himself.

This man, who tried to weasel into any team he could, ended up only being trusted by the team he shut out.

Etho’s last words were “my team is abandoning me” but they stuck by him. It was etho who abandoned them.

7 remain.

Bdubs

Bdubs marvels at how the Tuff Guys stuck together throughout it all. Reflecting on the start of the session, in that vast green pasture where the horse drama started. Where he said that they weren't a team, that they wouldn't help each other. Was it ever true?

No. Bdubs always wanted this team to succeed and will ensure it does, starting by trying to cripple gem and joel. He and Tango go in and steal anything they can carry, they may have triggered a trap and rolled a Nat 1 on deception when gem and joel returned, but all in all it was a fruitful trip.

After affirming that the Tuff Guys will stick together, he's given Ethos mace and promotions to use it wisely. Of course, as all wildcards are active weapons aren't the only way you can hurt other teams, he also feeds pearl the wrong information so she gets trivia wrong, and is swarmed by angry bees.

After this some relaxation is in order and so he goes to Scar and after handing over his spare boots and a frankly pathetic attempt from Scar to convince bdubs to kill tango, he's let on the rollercoaster of fun. He somehow manages to almost fall off and die. How.

OK back to murder, he sees his sights on Gem, tuning invisible with his powers and aiming to mace her. He misses every shot and Gem doesn't even notice. Pathetic.

Hey, at least he got yo hit etho with it in the end.

And as Bdubs flees from Cleo as they kill his dogs, he finds himself in the spider nest with Grian and Joel. Tango, below him, shoots a wind charge at grian… and accidentally hits Bdubs.

After all the reaffirmation of trust and reconciliation, still the Tuff Guys fall to each other's hands. The irony is poetic.

6 remain.

Tango

Tango spends a good portion of the session gearing up his mates, creating a cow spawner for them and joining Bdubs in fobbing gem, including destroying her own cow spawner.

Aside from that he spends all session just trying to survive and help his team, oh and joining in the manhunt for Joel but everyone was doing that.

And at the very end, Tango got Robotizised.

He heard Etho say he was being abandoned, he ran back to tell him he wasn't, but he couldn't hear him.

He called out for bdubs, but couldn't find him. He was distraught when he killed him and he'll never know.

How fitting that this team in particular would fall to a lack of communication.

Tango scales the mountain, unsure of what to do, and is shot by Joel.

5 remain.

Pearl

Pearl is ready for some bloodshed. She's all for killing the Bammers and Family with Creakings, even if both attempts fail miserably.

Reconvening at the old base, Pearl realises she has the mace power and drags Scott away on a murder camel to mace gems face.

She misses like all but two shots. It's pathetic. Only Gem was rooting for her.

OK, but maybe she'll do better when they hunt for Joel, swooping in to Hotguy him with her flight power… or maybe she'll miss that too.

And then Impulse dies. And Pearl is lost. Unsure of what to do, she and gem TRY one last time to reconcile, and it goes really well! Even if Joel is actively trying to kill her.

But then gem dies. And Pearl is even more lost than ever.

With nothing to lose, the three remaining Final Gals strom Bam Mountain. Pearl tried to get the jump on Joel with an ender pearl and… Falls 5 feet and is one shot by grian.

Well, she died as she lived

Pathetically.

4 remain.

Cleo

Yeah if you've noticed the segments getting shorter, that's because I've already mentioned what most of everyone did. Cleo spends most of her session just helping there team gear up or answer trivia.

She has a cowboy duel with Bigb and Torments Jimmy and Joel with creakings. That's something

Oh and at the very end she summons basically all the servers as Zombies and orders them to kill Gem.

Unfortunately they're all on 4 hearts and have no gear and Scar straight up didn't listen to her so Gem became vex food instead.

And yes, that means that everyone but Tango, Bdubs, Joel, Grian and Gem were all on the Final Gals team at some point since cleo considers the Zombies to be team members

Anyway, she gets stabbed by Joel.

3 remain.

Martren

Something happened to Ren. As he merged with martyn last session, the DNA stayed in his genome. He became a DNA abomination of the class WL-8, known as Martren.

But, was it an accident? Or did be just want to keep martyn around? To never lose him again? Ren came back to save martyn, a man no longer puppeteered by forces beyond their control, to cure the evil that had placed in his heart… but yet it remained, because martyn was always this way to some extent. Always ruthless, always dangerous. And in tye exact moment ren came to terms with this, martyn died. In front of him. Again. After that, why would he ever let him go, even if it meant losing himself?

Anyway, enough being overly dramatic, that's Ren's job! And he does it very well, managing to act out the idea of a man split between bloody vengeance and a desire for friendship perfectly.

Everyone else isn't a big fan of Matren tho, ujderatanvle, this is the weirdest shit ren has ever pulled by far.

Despite being a literal monster, Martren does well for himself, making friends with the tuff guys, Jimmy and The Gs, being fully geared up by the latter

Ren also acts out a meeting between Martren and The Undead Martyn. Which like dam imagine fusing with your pseudo wife and then their Reanimated corpse says he doesn't recognise you and insults your face. I definitely wouldn't go camel boarding with them after that, even if it was to kill Joel

But, as he and the gals stormed Bam mountain, the fire of the beams proved too strong for martren.

At least now he may finally rest.

2 remain.

Grian

Grian starts with a tentative alliance with the Tuff Guys being formed, in which he promises to 100% never try to kill bdubs again.

Yeah he tries to kill bdubs again later in the session. Plops a TNT minecart right in his tower. I mean he's somewhat remorseful, so I guess that's something.

He has no remorse for Jimmy though. He's desperate for him to die. He tries to sneak attack them, but is distracted by running into Impulse and his team. Through, later he is able to rig the Bam-Bunker to explode. Now his family isn't too pleased with him blowing up there only allies, but not much they can do about it.

The especially can't complain as Grian repeatedly saves Joel, such as when he teleported him out of the fray when the entire server was hunting him, nearly at the cost of his own life.

In the end, grian promotions his life to joel as the two of the stand on Mumbo Tower, preparing for war.

But as the dust settles and their enemies lay dead, there is no sacrifice from grian. He tried to shoot Joel down where he stood.

But in the end, there is only one way Grian’s story would end

Like skizz

Like mumbo

Falling to the ground.

1 remains.

Joel Toretto. The Chariot

How fitting is it that the member most Wild, most aggressive, most dangerous, would win Wild life?

And how ironic is it that the only reason he does is by being none of those things?

Across this entire season Joel has been passive, even as Gem was starting drama or Etho was betraying him or people were trying to kill him, he never took action. He stayed with his family, in his ugly car, and simply lived.

This session is no different, he saves Jimmy from a ravenger, he takes gem caving, he refuses to go after Scott. He never takes action. Only reaction.

In other seasons, he'd have gone red early, killed have the server and died by Scott's hand in a Blaze of glory.

But here, by not provoking anyone, he was finally able to win.

He Barely even fights. He turns Impulses snail invisible and hits cleo and ren and few times, but that's it.

Even when the whole sever chases him down, he doesn't engage because it'll he did he would be surrounded and killed. Any beast, no matter how dangerous, can be slain. But you cannot kill what you can't hit.

In a way Joel's journey here parallels Scott's win more than anything he did in any other season. An honurable man never backing down, but never raising his sword.

And so it is Joel who is able to walk down the corridor, to face that red door with everyone watching, and walk into destiny

Unfortunately he himself built destiny, so the trap fails and he looks like a goober.

But hey, finally Joel Toretto can ride off into the sunset in that great big car.

No more players remain. This World Is dead

Until next time.

[spadesolace]

what is love?

1000 special: the fic that started it all

words: 3k

spade speaks: “i want to say thank you to the love and support you have given me within a year of me posting. 2023 is really a rollercoaster of a ride - from the angst that i’ve written to the fluff in the end. i’d like to dedicate this fic - the one that started it all - to all of you. what is love has a special place in my heart. to the ones that followed me from the start and to those who are joining along from the ride. thank you, i appreciate your existence.”

what is love?

minji never knew the answer to that question, there was no definite answer to be given when she hasn’t experienced love herself. with the amount of confessions she has gotten, not one made her heart skip a beat – even when her fake crush confessed to her. that was before realizing her own feelings towards her best friend, who is now her girlfriend as well.

you are the only person who owns her heart before she even knew that you have it. the only person to make her stop and go insane just by merely looking at you; and all this time she thought that she merely admired you as a friend. so what is love according to kim minji?

love is as sweet as candy.

minji is well aware you’re not one for PDA, aside from holding hands while walking around the mall or walking her to her classes. kisses were out of the window whenever you’re outside and hugs were a once in a while thing for you. yet seeing you letting wonyoung kiss you on the cheek made minji’s blood boil.

it was friendly, she’s aware of that but letting your other best friend freely kiss you while your own girlfriend has to wait until you’re alone seemed unfair. which lead to your current position, minji cornering you as your back is pressed against a wall – the position would have made you laugh as minji was a few inches smaller than you but your girlfriend looks mad that you could only let out a squeak as she was inches from you.

“son y/n jangmi.” a nervous laugh left your mouth, full name was rarely blurted out especially with your korean middle name.

“darling, why the full government name?” minji was pointing at your chest, your back now fully pressed to the wall that you're scared of what she would do.

“kiss me.”

“WHAT?!” both are aware that PDA is the one thing that you won’t do, the sudden demand makes you question what is running on your girlfriend’s mind. let alone what brought the idea up.

“i said kiss me.”

“yeah, i heard you but- could you put your finger down first.” minji slowly backs away and puts her hands to her sides as you finally relax a bit. “why suddenly bring it up?”

minji looks away from your piercing gaze, looking everywhere and avoiding your eyes, a nervous habit of hers that you’ve noticed since you were kids. personally, you would love nothing more than to kiss your girlfriend – the only thing stopping you is that you’re in public despite staying in the locker room where minji managed to catch you alone while your teammates went home already.

“well–” minji finally looks at you, and she could only see a puppy as you tilted your head slowly leaning closer to her with a smile on your face. her immediate reaction was to push your face away as her face heats up from the fluttering feeling in her stomach.

“stop looking at me like that.” minji’s hand is still on your face, taking it with your own free hand and slowly putting it down.

“like what?” your laughter is the one thing minji will never get tired of. taking a quick peek at you as she processes what she wanted to say. she draws a blank. her heart beating faster than it normally does. 

“like i put the stars in the night sky or something – i don’t know.”

you could only hold minji’s hand that was closest to you, kissing the top of it as you walked closer to her. smiling at her as you held her chin up to properly look at you.

“if you wanted a kiss, just ask nicely, darling.” soft lips on top of hers, cherry flavored lips that feels like she’ll get intoxicated from along with her strawberry flavored lips that has you weak. cherry might not be the sweetest flavor there is but minji thinks you're as sweet as candy with the way you pull her closer as if she’s your oxygen and that you’re dependent on her lips. minji had to stop you before anyone could possibly walk in on you two – despite your coach letting you lock up.

“ok ok, don’t overdo it.”

“noted, darling. so… why the sudden request?” as minji explained her reason in embarrassment as they walked out the locker rooms together. your hand holding hers while carrying both your bags in one arm. your thumb caressing the back of her hand as you walk home together - even in the littlest of things minji feels butterflies in her stomach.

love is like flying in the sky.

it had been a week since you left for your internship in your mom’s firm, leaving minji alone in your apartment. with it being a few days away from her birthday, minji wishes you’d be there on her special day. she waits patiently for you to call, all the way from new york as the clock strikes 9 in the morning, right on time. minji didn’t hesitate and immediately answered your call. there you stood in your pyjamas in your mother’s apartment as you held a bowl close to you. 

“good morning, did you sleep well?” minji wishes she could be completely honest and tell you how much she hates sleeping alone now that you’re miles away from her. how your side of the bed feels so empty and having to cuddle your pillow doesn’t make things any better. she keeps her mouth shut.

“yup, woke up early today. mina-unnie is coming to pick me up in 2 hours. how’s your day so far?” you nodded as you filled your bowl with your mom’s cooking and brought your phone with you as you dined alone.

“quite busy, a lot of case studies and mom plans on extending the stay for two days.”

“oh- that means you won’t be here for my birthday…”

before your call with minji, the truth was that you were free to go back to korea as your mom finishes some business. knowing fully well that minji’s birthday is around the corner and you wouldn’t want to miss it. so, you booked the earliest flight back to korea which meant either landing on the day itself or earlier. in a few hours or so, you’ll be back home within the arms of your girlfriend.

“sorry, darling. i’ll make it up to you when i get back.” a part of you was hoping that she’ll fall for your lie, and just looking at her mood; it might have worked too well.

mina even texted you that minji was sulking during her shoot, which has been happening quite a lot and it’s what made the shoots fast sometimes. despite mina complaining every 10 minutes about how your girlfriend keeps sighing and saying she misses you. it had reached a point where mina had to show minji your old pictures when she and chaeyoung would babysit you.

on the day of your flight, you had asked your mom to not tell anyone that you’ll be home for minji’s birthday let alone if minji asks her. to which your mom admitted would be quite hard as she loves minji as if she was her own daughter.

“please, mina-unnie knows about it so she can pick me up. you could probably ask wonyoung to keep minji busy so that she wouldn’t message me while i’m on the plane. simply just tell her that i’m busy or asleep.” your mom just patted you on the shoulder as she turned you around and pushed you towards immigration.

“stop worrying, i’ve kept the fact that i was rich from your father for years. now, safe travels and call me when you’ve landed.” you never got the chance to question your mom, all you remember is rushing and getting on board for your 15 hour flight that could make or break your sanity just to be there for your girlfriend of 3 years.

on the other side of the world, minji was lowkey losing her sanity. it’s not like you to miss her messages or calls - even if you were busy you still answered it. nothing made sense to her as she questions why wonyoung and hanni are doing their best to make sure she doesn’t check your location. it had almost been an entire day since your last message and she didn’t want to get her hopes up as your mom sent her a picture of you at your desk reading cases (it was taken the previous day).

“UGH- WHY ISN’T SHE ANSWERING MY CALLS?!” hanni is scared for her life because she hasn’t seen her best friend lose sanity over a girl and it wasn’t like you to leave her hanging. wonyoung is simply enjoying everything as she waits for your message that you’ve landed and as if the gods had answered her prayers; you finally messaged them of your whereabouts.

“i really can’t thank you enough, mina-unnie.” one of the many perks of having a future sister-in-law that is a CEO of her own company is getting a free pass to use her private plane.

“no worries, knowing how you’ll try to survive a 15 hour flight on business. the least i could do is not let you suffer and be cranky when surprising my model.” the trip on the way back to your shared apartment with minji took longer than expected due to the traffic. you’ve already informed wonyoung on how close you are to home.

minji is on edge, it’s her birthday and you’re a no show - messages and calls ignored. she was close to sending you an email until hanni stopped her and hoped you’d finally message your girlfriend. the silence of your shared apartment as minji looks out, the day hasn’t ended yet (it’s only 11 am and she has already lost it). then hearing the very familiar voice that is her ringtone of you calling her “darling! i’m stuck inside your phone!” she answered it immediately. hanni and wonyoung could only look at their friend as if she was a rabid animal who hasn’t eaten in weeks.

“son y/n! why weren’t you answering my messages?”

“i’m sorry, i got caught up with the cases mom made me read and my phone was on dnd then-” you rambled on about your fake excuse that was being overworked by your own mother as mina tried her best not to laugh at your stressed state while in the elevator to your place.

“fine, i’ll let it slide just this once.”

“sorry, darling - but i did send something for you.” right on time the doorbell to your place rang, minji headed towards the door to check on who it was, only to see mina and a suitcase next to her. a very familiar suitcase. mina was lowkey nervous as you stand by the doorbell camera of your place making sure you’re not in the picture as minji opens the door. a sad smile on her face while she held onto her phone and greeted mina.

“a certain someone wanted you to have this.” minji wasn’t dense but hearing mina’s voice echo in the other line - she assumed you would be somewhere within the area and upon checking outside. there you stood with a cake and bouquet at hand while your phone was on speaker.

“happy birthday, darling.” even if miles apart, you wouldn’t miss your girl’s birthday even if it meant flying for hours on end just to be there on time.

love keeps you smiling all day.

things have always been light and fun between you two. minji loves how you’re considered as one of the most serious people she knows but behind it is someone who has been through a lot as a child. that’s one of the reasons why minji loves you.

seeing your childlike wonder whenever you’re at home keeping yourself entertained with legos that you’ve built through your own imagination, sometimes joking about proposing with a lego box ring. one she found cute and quite hard to hide if that were your plan. minji watches you build a house that you’ve deemed as your dream house once you’ve saved enough money and have graduated. a modern house somewhere in canada as minji mentioned wanting to settle there in the future and seeing you incorporate that into something as small as building a lego house. she can’t help but admire you with a small smile on her face as you rambled on what rooms you wanted.

“so, you see us together in the future?” you hummed in response as you looked for a piece, one that minji noticed was stuck to your arm.

“well, yeah. i’m dating you to marry. i’m not letting go of the best thing i can call mine.”

“are you asking me to marry you in the subtlest way possible, baby?”

minji moved closer to you, finally taking the piece stuck on your arm and handing it to you. a smile on her face as you thanked her, finishing the lego house with the minifigures you had made months prior.

“if the time is right, i’ll be down on one knee and asking for your hand in marriage.” minji felt your lips on her cheek as you put the lego house in the middle of the table. “for now, we can only plan for the future.”

“like the lego house you built?”

“yup. i’ll give you a quick tour of what our possible house could be.”

minji loves it when you do the simplest of things, even if some would say its childish for a grown woman to play with legos while studying law and her girlfriend studying hard to be a doctor. you’ve changed for the better and minji adores that she gets to be there every step of the way. 

watching how your eyes would only look at her despite your classmates who have tried their best to make you look at them.

how you never leave the house without checking if she’s down to go out with you to do errands (the answer is always yes).

how despite living in the same place and seeing each other almost everyday for years, you’re not sick of her.

“so tell me more about that lego house of ours.” minji has always loved how you always planned the future with her in mind, even before you had confessed.

love makes you look at how beautiful the whole world is.

it was a given fact that you and minji are busy with your own work. let alone, she became an ambassador for Chanel and you’re proud of the girl who is currently within your arms in the city of love. having quite a peaceful picnic date with your girlfriend near the eiffel tower. the place might be noisy, a few insects here and there but minji’s mind is occupied by the girl sitting next to her taking her pictures with her film camera. a huge smile on her face as you take her picture, one that will be printed and placed on your board filled with pictures from your trips.

if you were with anyone else, you would have probably chosen a different date spot with how crowded the place is but seeing minji happy as you talk about her experience with paris fashion week or how you got the chance to meet one of mina’s closest friends who minji has already met before.

“how cliche would it be if someone proposed here, right now?” minji looked at you as if you were planning on proposing let alone, you had a conversation about the future the past year while you were building a lego house.

“quite cliche and neither of us would want to have a public proposal.”

“mhmm.. speaking of proposals. chaeyoung-unnie is finally going to do it.”

your entire date had been about everything related to love, with how you started and how dense minji was in high school to not notice your heart eyes directed at her or the way how you managed to trick minji into confessing first. in the eyes of kim minji, anywhere with you would be a beautiful view - even if you did see a rat running at the foot of the eiffel tower.

“oh, it’s remy.”

“ew.”

whatever love is, minji has no definitive answer - as long as you’re in the picture, minji considers it as love.

even if you’re outside of the apartment holding your belongings and ready to say goodbye. with a sad smile - minji knows in some way you’ll come back even if it means leaving her alone

in your shared apartment, in the middle of the table was the lego house you had built for you two. there she stood, eyes on the simple building you had made as she looked out of the balcony of your apartment with your back turned and bags being put into your car. minji knows you’ll be back.

“girl, will you stop crying. you’ll see her in a week. it’s only chaeyoung-unnie’s bridal shower. then the wedding.” hanni had watched minji look out the balcony as you waved goodbye and drove away to the airport to meet up with your sister.

this little thing might seem a bit too much for hanni, but to minji this was a huge step for your sister and you were needed every step of the way as the maid of honor. 

even while on the plane talking to your sister and her friends, with a velvet box in your pocket that you had recently claimed from rei. one that you had asked to be customized but your proposal can wait - for now you’re here to celebrate your sister who is about to get married in Japan.

“nervous?” chaeyoung could only nod as she pats your hand that was placed on top of the armchair.

“aren’t you? between the two of us, you literally have an engagement ring in your pocket along with my wedding ring.” you smiled as you show the velvet box that you’ve been holding onto.

“one thing for sure, unnie, i wanna spend the rest of my life with minji.”

[strawberryshortcake1495]

I had a dream that 12-year old Stan and Ford went on a rollercoaster and Stan was super excited but it ended up being way more higher than he thought and he was so petrified he literally fainted as the big drop happened and when the ride was over he was just like

I am not exaggerating his pupils were literally white and he was just sitting in the cart while Ford looked super concerned and tried to get him to move. Then he checked his pulse to make sure he didn’t die or anything and noticed the poor kid’s heart was POUNDING like a gong. Then Ford proceeded to scoop him up into his arms and carry him off to who knows where.

[acaaai-t]

thinking about…

stranger! xiao whom you encountered through a unexpected bank robbery one sunny afternoon. It definitely was love at first sight for you, especially after he had tackled you— a mere stranger to him at the moment— down to shield you from the stray bullets being fired. It was chaos amidst the environment, but all you could think about was how close he was to you… archons he’s pretty.

stranger! xiao whom you practically had to chase after after the entire ordeal just to get his contact information. He had first denied your approach, but you just seemed far too determined to give up so easily. “Sir please,” you begged. “You quite literally saved my life back there, the least I can do is repay you with something.” … “Fine.”

— ༉‧₊˚ ��‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！

companion! xiao who has a grumpy face on at all times no matter the situation. You had invited him out for lunch as a way to thank him for his heroic act couple days ago, and this would be your chance to properly introduce yourself to him. The weather was near perfect today with the temperature hanging around in the low 70’s (20°C) and the skies cleared of clouds. His intimidating expression was also enough to make you nervous, but you pushed through. “Hi! My name is [name], what’s yours?” … “… Xiao.”

companion! xiao who you took out on a little amusement park hangout on a bright sunny Saturday afternoon. You hadn’t been to one in forever, and considering the fact that both of you had nothing better to do today, you dragged Xiao out with you.

companion! xiao who went near deaf after agreeing to go on a rollercoaster with you— which was a poor choice. The ride was exhilarating, but if you hadn’t been screaming bloody murder throughout the entire ride, it might’ve been a better experience. “I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, hands clasped together in a praying motion. Xiao didn’t say anything. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. As an add-on to your apology, you treated him to a plate of almond tofu. Yeah no, he forgives you.

companion! xiao who gets an unwanted feeling of annoyance when he sees you occupied with someone else other than him. A stranger had stopped you to ask for direction to the nearest bathroom, and being the kind hearted soul you are, pointed to the map and gave the path to his destination. Too close, he thought. What? Why was he feeling like this? Is this what people called jealousy?

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！！

Xiao is in denial. He’s only known you for a month or two now, and feelings are beginning to worm its way into his heart. Unwarranted feelings that he wants no part of— yet it’s constantly in the back of his mind. You’re always on his mind. He can’t get you out, no matter what.

Your smile, your laugh, your mesmerizing beauty…

Archons, what is he meant to do now?

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！！！

lover! xiao who wrestled with his feelings for weeks on end before finally caving in to it. You were blabbering on about some drama unfolding at your workplace at a cafe he’d invited you out to when all of a sudden he stopped you. He couldn’t even pay attention to your words, for all he could do was stare at your lips moving. “Is there something wrong with my face?” you asked, fingers dragging across your cheeks. Xiao was quick to answer, giving a hasty ‘no’.

lover! xiao who kept stuttering his words when confessing his feelings to you. The sun had begun to set, and you had brought him to a secluded area of the woods, where there was a near perfect view of the sunset. Your heart was pounding so heavily against your chest— it felt like it could burst out at any moment. Although Xiao looked more of a hot mess than you did; his face crimson red.

“I.. I like— archons. Oh fuck it [name] I like you. Not as in just friends if you understand, you know what I mean right? No, it’s totally okay if you don’t like me back like—”

lover! xiao who you had to shut up with a kiss to his lips, arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer to you. He seemed to had to take a moment to register what had just happened, and when it did finally process, he kissed back— hard. Is he dreaming?

just lover! xiao being the epitome of you fell first but he fell harder.

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！！！！

✩ ·┆ masterlist

notes—

— more xiao content coming soon

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Firearm - Lando Norris

<word count - 1314>

Sitting on the windowsill of your childhood home, the window pushed wide open, you brought the joint to your lips after you had just lit it. This had become something of a habit after moving back into your parent's place since it was one of the only things that could take your mind off of everything that had happened. 

As you had many times before, you hoped the smell wouldn't waft through the house and reach the nose of your mother, who was downstairs. You didn't want her knowing about this nasty little wont that you had developed - just like you didn't want her to know the extent of the pain you were feeling. 

It was like a rollercoaster: one moment you were having the time of your life, zipping along the tracks without a care in the world. The next, you were hurtling down at breakneck speeds, your screams being drowned out by the whistling wind as the world flew past you. There was no stopping it once the descent had begun, and you had figured that out the hard way. 

Once you had reached the bottom and the ride had stilled, you realised that the wind had carried parts of you away. There was a hole in your heart, and you couldn't find a bullet. The aftermath was there, but you couldn't find the perpetrator. 

He had hidden it, kept it to himself, slept with it under his pillow like a secret diary. You should've reached under the surface and fired it at him, but you were so blinded with love and all the golden things in life that you couldn't even see it. 

But now that you were through, you could see it all. You mixed the thought of him with vodka or any other form of drink that you could get your hands on. You always drank with your friends, just to be on the safe side, but it was always you that ended up completely shitfaced and barely able to string together a sentence. 

It was always babbles of Lando's name combined with all the reasons you either hated him or wanted to fuck him until you passed out. The line was very blurred, and the polarities were becoming evermore indistinguishable. They'd never mention him, and neither would you unless you'd had been on the tequila - which you often were. 

To be fair, the man was everything to you. He was the center of your universe, the Danny to your Sandy, the Harry to your Sally. But clearly he just saw you as the Cha Cha to his Danny in the end. He was your first love, your first special someone, and he broke it off like it was a summer dream, ripped at the seams. 

After these drunken affairs, your friends would leave you in bed and hope you'd go straight to sleep instead of  crying yourself to slumber like you had when the breakup was fresh in your mind. Once they had left, you'd open your phone and vent about him in anonymous forums. 

You referred to him as 'Landon' as opposed to his actual name, which was your inebriated brain thinking you were being sneaky and deceptive. Namelessly, you'd rant and rant and rant until your brain gave up and surrendered to the intoxicated need for sleep.

The next morning you'd open your phone with a banging headache and foggy recollection of the night, and the first app open would be the chat forum. You'd read your words and it felt like the bullet wound in your heart became increasingly bigger.

You hated the burning itch that it presented you every time that it stretched a few inches bigger, and it was becoming too hard to ignore. You tried to pretend like you really didn't care, that it was something that didn't bother you, but it did. 

But it did. 

You had put up with him, loved him, been there through every single little thing that went on in his life, yet he had brushed passed him like it meant nothing. What a shame it was that you had dealt with his bullshit and this was how he had repaid you. 

What a goddamn joke, was it all just an act? A falsified version of himself that he used to make you inclined to do his bidding and wait on his every beck and call? You were so oblivious to lies and deceit that you didn't even notice the impending doom that was flying towards you at precipitate speeds. And by the time you had noticed, it had pierced through your flesh and soul. 

A soul that had really believed that he loved you. Yet, even now, even with countless shots of tequila surging through your veins, you couldn't decide what had caused him to decide that you weren't enough for him. Well, maybe you were at one point, but you sure as hell weren't anymore. 

Was it the rise to fame? The becoming of the rising star in F1 known as Lando Norris: the dashing young driver with a loveable personality with that dash of juvenile charm? Or was it your complete lack of notability in the public eye that turned him away? He realised that he could have anyone he wanted and he was like a kid in a candy store, eyes ogling at all of the endless possibilities that were better than what he had.

As the days dragged on and his apparent lack of love for you became an even heavier weight on your shoulders, your mind started to spiral a little more. It felt like Lando didn't really care. You saw him in the media, on TV and he was fine. 

Even when it was fresh and the dust hadn't quite settled, he had put on a brave front. You knew he was an awful actor, and the majority of people could tell, even with all of the PR training in the world. Lando would be Lando, and nothing would ever change that. Not even you. 

It was like he didn't quite realise the pain that he had caused. He hadn't quite grasped the severity of the situation and the gravity of what had happened. Maybe it was his slightly immature approach to things, but you hoped he was hurting. 

Hell, even if it was just a fraction of the pain that you were feeling, it was better than nothing. Anything he would give you was better than nothing. 

It was getting to a point where you didn't feel like talking, but everyone else does. You had seen the speculations about the two of you online and everything. Some people thought you were secretly still together, others thought it was just a physical relationship as opposed to anything deep and meaningful. 

You'd read through your own anonymous posts that you had made under the influence, and you hated yourself for continuously bringing it up, always making yourself relive it and ripping the stitches on your heart apart.

The hole made by the Lando Norris sized bullet that couldn't be filled by anything else. You couldn't find anything else to fit into the cavity that he had left behind. He still slept with the firearm of his words and actions that would always damage you.

You wished you could have the energy to bite back, maybe send him a text slating him and making him feel how you felt. But you didn't. All of your energy was spent on repairing yourself, trying to gee yourself up and move on . 

At the end of the day, you didn't think you would ever quite move on. You could fill the void with a few different objects, but there would always be a few gaps. A few pieces missing of the puzzle. A few parts of yourself that he had destroyed, and you would never get back.

|masterlist|five seconds flat|

A/N - Hello my darlings! Am I dead? No, not quite. I have had absolutely 0 motivation, but I am 25k into a mafia!Charles thing, so... That's something, no? I have so much stuff half finished and so many ideas spilling out of every orifice, so there's a shit tonne of half finished stuff laying around in every program I use to write on. I have had this finished for a while, I just couldn't be bothered to make the banner thing. And I am on a roll with Carlos right now like... the past 3 things I have worked on are all his. Got a lot finished for Charles that just hasn't been posted, so I'm getting around to it. Anyway, hope you're all enjoying summer break, I know I sure am. Love y'all 💖💖

[obamousse]

Sakusa, Suna, Atsumu, and Osamu went to an amusement park and on a ride. Atsumu and Osamu screamed from start to finish, making the exact same facial expressions. Suna, knowing this, chose not to sit next to them but in the front with Sakusa and open his phone for filming. Ironically, Sakusa was even more terrified of rollercoasters than the Miya twins, clinging to Suna like his life depends on it (at the moment he thought it did), which almost caught Suna off guard, causing him to disbalance and his phone to almost fall. He regained his balance back, and even though he was already cackling his heart out at the Miya twins screaming, Sakusa's screaming and discovering that he fears rollercoasters made him laugh even more.

On his phone there lies a blurry and badly taken photograph of them on the ride - Suna laughing, Miya twins screaming holding onto the railings for their dear life, and Omi scowling and screaming also holding on to Suna for dear life.