#here’s a part of my soul for you to judge

[waeirfaahl]

My thoughts about old version of Hellfire

Here I analyzed judge Claude Frollo, his arc, twisted worldview, conflicting feelings toward Esmeralda and the one certain and important moment of Hellfire, comparing it with the workprint version. What I can tell about the character's arc, it is pretty interesting arc for antagonist, especially in animation of 90s — in contrast to protagonist, who growths as a person and improves himself, learns something new and accepts some mistakes and wants to become better, valuing the new friends, the antagonist tries to save his world he created in his mind.

Now I want to discuss about the early version of Hellfire. I recently discovered and listened this song and noticed different lyris in some parts. So, I'll show them and write my thoughts, because these early lyrics, from one side, confirm some aspects of the movie and final song and, from another side, have quite different dynamic and mood, still keeping the initial message about love, corrupted by Frollo into obsession, possessiveness and wrath due to Frollo's fanaticism, racist and deluded worldview, ignorance, denial and fear to encounter own imperfection and to realize own crimes.

Yet, the early version and the final version (in contrast to the workprint version) show the character as the lonely and lost person, who falls into madness in attempt to save the twisted and sick (while in his eyes — nearly perfect) world he created in his mind. The first difference happens in the scene of Frollo's fetishism with Esmeralda's scarf. If in the final version we hear "Like fire! Hellfire! This fire in my skin! This burning desire is turning me to sin!",

in the old version the lyrics are these: Hellfire, it must be hellfire! I feel it searing, scalding underneath my skin! Hellfire! What is this? Hellfire! My brain is boiling, boiling, driving me to sin!

This moment confirms that Frollo never experienced neither falling in love, nor physical attractiveness before (like, he is 50-55 — very late puberty, you know). He doesn't compare it with hellfire, explaining it for himself in a bit subtle way, he blatantly explains his sudden feelings toward Esmeralda as hellfire. In the final version of Hellfire his previous line "Then tell me, Maria! Why I see her dancing there? Why her smoldering eyes still scorch my soul?" hints this aspect too (interesting, but smoldering also can mean "condemning" — previously Esmeralda accused him of cruelty and hypocrisy in front of all Parisians, and in my previous post I already mentioned Frollo's arc and biggest fear as the part of his inner conflict, why he doesn't want to admit his feelings to Esmeralda as a love). Plus, in the scene on the festival, when Esmeralda kisses him, you can notice another hint of his lack of experience — how confused, embarrassed, timid and meek Frollo is at this moment, until Esmeralda jokingly moves his hat. Simply saying, his aggressive and unadequate behavior is caused by his unability to understand his feelings and what he has to do in the conditions he happened to be — while his fanaticism and xenophoby are the bullets for the final blow.

The next moment is in the scene with Esmeralda's spirit Frollo dreamily walks to and wants to hug. In the final version he sings "Protect me, Maria! Don't let this siren cast her spell! Don't let her fire sear my flesh and bone! Destroy Esmeralda! And let her taste the fires of hell! Or else let her be mine and mine alone!". The final version focuses on his anger, fear (also fear of unknown), despair, turmoil, woe, how Frollo is afraid of his feelings and runs from them, hiding it under the mask of fury and blaming Esmeralda and others, and only in the small, but very personal, tender and powerful scene with Esmeralda's spirit we finally see, what Frollo actually wants — he wants to be loved by her, he wants her sincere and willing reciprocity, and that he actually idolizes and admires her. He looks lost, vulnerable and very lonely. And all this you actually can read and see in the visuals and expressions of the character. In the old vesion the lyrics are these: I curse you, Maria, and all your saints so cold and cruel, Who let this fire consume my flesh and bone! I curse Esmeralda, that name which means a fiery jewel! She is a jewel, and one that I must own! Here Frollo blames even the saints and at the same time here he openly admits especially to himself that he admires and idolizes Esmeralda, comparing her with a fiery jewel. The same theme of possessiveness and obsession with tiny shred of hidden real feeling of love, but more openly explained. Most likely, these storyboards demonstrate exactly this early version.

For some reason, it reminds me a little bit of ballet or figure skating. After Esmeralda's escape in the final version Frollo sings "Hellfire! Dark fire! Now, gipsy, it's your turn! Choose me or your pyre! Be mine or you will burn!". This version focuses on how terrifying Frollo is in his madness, possessiveness and anger, since he talks with Esmeralda through her scarf and gives to her the ultimatum, as if she intentionally ran away exactly after he opened up and revealed his feelings toward her. Some paranoidal disorder right here.

And partially the reason of such his outburst also can be explained by this previous scene with Esmeralda's spirit — I mean, Frollo clearly has some issues with trust at least toward humans, he is afraid of betrayal, so he will obviously feel wrath, if some person he opened up to will betray him and reveal Frollo's weaknesses to others or whatever. This outburst also allows him to burn Esmeralda's scarf he previously wore on his chest and hugged to himself.

While the early version gives a bit different mood: Hellfire! Let there be hellfire! I will possess this gypsy witch for whom I yearn! Hellfire! Let her taste hellfire! She will be mine, or at the stake I swear she'll burn!

He is still in wrath and feels insulted and betrayed, but here he promises and swears to himself that he will either possess Esmeralda or burn her. What's interesting, in this version it is the first time, when Frollo openly and seriously tells his goal of exactly taking away the life of Esmeralda, before this he didn't mention even the idea of that (while in the final version it was not so clear, 'cause he already sang "Destroy Esmeralda! And let her taste the fires of hell!" — although from his side it was a lie and another attempt to hide his true goal, which was later revealed "Or else let her be mine and mine alone!") and the way how he sings "Or at the stake I swear she'll burn!" — some kind of frightening realization of how far he had come, and there's no path for return. In the final version he is blinded by wrath in this moment and only after burning the scarf he realizes and feels regret and hesitates, but then immediately oppresses all these feelings in favor of "But she will be mine or she will burn!". So, yeah, it was pretty interesting journey and comparing the old and final versions of the gorgeous song, how the authors communicate the theme and ideas of fear, victimblaming, obsession, possessiveness, corrupted love, loneliness, fanaticism and self-hatred. It could be interesting to read the early script, since the authors mentioned about the couple of deleted scenes — for example, how Frollo actually visited Esmeralda in the prison, revealed to her his feelings and gave the choice to either be with him or to die, and only after this we would see the sentencing before execution scene and Frollo's final and last attempt to possess Esmeralda we saw in the final movie "I can save you from the flames of this world and the next. Choose me or your pyre." (honestly, Frollo could make the ultimatum even more terrifying and hopeless — I mean, he wanted to genocide all Romani, so he could tell to Esmeralda "You and all your kind will die! If you choose me, I will save you and mercy on them all!").

Looking at the horror in Esmeralda's face and eyes during this sequence in the movie, and how she shrinks into the pillar, just to distance herself away from the judge, I wonder, what frightening he told her and even did in the prison.

[an-imaginary-person6]

Do you guys like writing?

Like writing with a pencil in hand

With the draw of your own fingers

Drawing on the page?

Do you guys like writing?

The way it’s messy and unique

The way you draw language and meaning onto a page.

And the way it just has it;

Meaning

Warmth

Coldness

Homesickness

Velvet

Prickles

The way that no one can read it but you?

Do you guys like writing

Because it imprints onto your soul

And in your mind

As you can visualise the stars connecting

The constellations of you

All done with lead made of rocks

And dirt

Do you like writing?

It wasn’t my intention

For a post to form like a poem

Of thoughts

Or like a purse I’m constantly holding

I just wanted space, to ask

Do you folks like writing with a pencil?

Or pen?

Or with highlighters and colors beyond?

[blackssuunn-mandoandyodito]

.

[prael]

Touch

Kinktember Day 9: Spa

Newjeans Danielle x male reader smut

words: 7,422 Kinktember Masterlist

"My client, did you see her come in?" you ask.

"No, why? Is she famous or something?"

"Well, that would explain the secrecy, and it would also explain a woman barely twenty having cash to burn at a place like this," you whisper to the colleague who is far too jealous of how you just got requested by name because that usually means big tips for a good service.

"Did you get her name?"

"Supposed to be a secret." Your answer dissatisfies her, and she throws you a side-eye. "Okay. Okay. Danielle something... Marsh?"

"Shut up!" She hits you on the shoulder. "No fucking way. Let me take this one and you can have my next ten VIP bookings."

"Sorry, but she asked for me by name," you tell her. She mutters an obscenity under her breath. "Want to tell me what I'm getting into here?"

And then the girl spews out a jumble of ramblings about K-pop this and K-pop that—the kind of reaction that only the truly obsessed can have. Millions of views on this, charting on that, really fucking popular is the gist of it. So basically the whole planet Earth knows who this Danielle is. Well, shit. No pressure or anything. "Get in there already, do your best work and maybe get me an autograph."

A few forceful pushes out of the staff room and you find Danielle where you left her, her cleansing mask still on her face, sitting in that long white robe. You step barefoot over the soft wood, heat rising from underneath it.

As you draw near, you ask, "Miss Marsh, are we ready to begin?"

"Dani, please," her voice says from beneath the mask. It's hard not to be intimated after being hit with the fact that the woman before you is world-renowned. Though from here, she looks like any other delicate young woman. Her feet are small. Bare, tiny and arched, they hang just a few inches from the floor, and they are as perfectly still as the rest of her. "No need to be formal, I'm here to relax."

"Then let me start by offering you a drink." The bottle pops as you twist it. The label is adorned in cursive. "Bottled at source, premium mineral water." Your arm raises the bottle so she can see the brand clearly.

"Is it magical water?" There is a playful lilt in her voice, "Maybe it has some healing powers?"

"Guaranteed to nourish the soul and unclog those emotional pores," you deadpan.

The facemask stretches with Dani's wide smile, and she lightly chuckles. "That's good, laughter is good for the soul."

"Right." You pour from a height and a theatrical stream flows. When the flute is halfway, you stop the flow and pass it to her hands, which take it gently.

"What? You don't even hold the glass for me? Put it to my lips and tilt?" It's another tease, the joke stretching on her grin, but now it is her hands holding the flute, her fingers long and smooth around the stem.

"I serve, not control."

"Those don't have to always be exclusive." She laughs, and the sound makes you feel something. "But I appreciate the intention. I hear you're the best in the business."

"I'll let you be the judge, Miss Marsh. Now, allow me to remove that mask. I have raised the temperature in here to help open the pores, and I would like to begin with a facial."

"I do love a facial." Danielle smiles to herself. "And again, please, just Dani is fine."

You step over behind her, where her head tilts back against the chair, her long hair cascading below, shimmering in the moist air. Lightly, you place the tips of your fingers along her jawline, finding the edge of the mask and gently lifting it upwards. She doesn't flinch at all, and you watch the wet mask give way to her face. Even upside down, Danielle is indeed beautiful.

With her sun-kissed hair, radiant skin, and effortless, elegant beauty. She is, in summation of all her parts: perfect. The image the word calls up has always been fuzzy around the edges, an abstract idea more than a specific concrete thing, because real people aren't like this. That's what you believed until you laid eyes on her.

"You take good care of your skin, Miss—Sorry—Dani."

"Thank you," she says simply, no joke this time. Your fingers ghost over her chin and then trace to her cheekbones, moving lightly to test her texture, all so smooth.

"First, I shall cleanse away any impurities," you say and lean down to examine her face. Even when you are so close, there is nothing for your scrutiny—no visible crevice, no blemishes, despite there being not a trace of make-up. It's all-natural.

There's a light whisper on her lips, one that you barely make out, "Good luck with that."

You tilt your head as you reach over for a fresh sponge, run it under hot water until it is filled, squeeze out the excess, and slowly drag a path of heat across her forehead. As your other hand holds the sheet over her neck to catch stray water, your first-hand works in large strokes from above, rinsing her skin with each successive pass.

As you focus, she leans back into the chair, and a soft hum escapes her lips. "Feels nice already," she murmurs.

You say nothing, working her in silence. Her eyelids are closed, her lips slightly parted, and she remains so still that, if not for the sound of her breaths, she could be easily mistaken as unconscious. This silence has a tranquillity and familiarity to it, one that feels like home, and without thinking, you are smiling.

She stays just the same as you begin to exfoliate her, brushing across her face in ever-widening circles. It's with such tenderness that her cheeks take a pink tint as she grows hotter and she smiles as you rub in gentle swirls, one spot, then the next.

Time passes in silence as you finish the exfoliation and apply all manner of natural, topical lotions, toners, and peels to Dani. When her skin is primed, you press your fingers against her skin and, starting at her forehead, you massage her face to a rhythm of long, soothing strokes. You enjoy touching her, you admit, which isn't exactly right for a professional, but since you have no outward reaction from her, you assume it isn't the end of the world.

Throughout it all, she keeps her eyes shut. Over time you move around her face, applying more pressure in some spots than others. She shifts and sighs, soft exhalations of her warm breath tickling your arm, yet otherwise doesn't move an inch. Her shoulders relax against the leather of the seat. "You really know what you're doing," she says, with a smirk. You pull her skin with your fingertips, moving them in large circles as it comes to an end. Finally, you tap your fingers gently over her skin to soothe.

"Now, your body, Dani."

Her eyes crack open, but slowly. "Are we moving?"

"I'll wash your skin over there, but the massage will be in the next room. Now, I'll need you to—"

Dani doesn't let you finish your sentence before she rocks forward in her seat and pushes herself to a stand. She's facing away from you and puts her hands in front of her, then she throws the robe back off her shoulders and lets it slide off her arms to the floor in one quick motion.

"Good," she says. "I was for too hot in that thing anyway."

Of course, as a professional, you would never gasp in surprise, yet, at the sight of her ass, the muscles tight, small, and round, the curves of her waist so thin, hair over her shoulders threatening to hide her slender back and those long slim legs, you manage to just barely gulp.

Too hot, she certainly is, you want to tell her and not just in the sense that perspiration coats her skin. Tiny beads of sweat that, as your eyes crawl over her, are in the process of running downwards. This glistening on her flesh is hypnotic. The curve of her ass, the slight tilt of her hips forward, the way the base of her spine leads downward, right down to a crack between her—

Focus. You remind yourself you have a job to do.

"In the far corner. The stone pool. Please, stand by the edge." It takes a second before Dani's head bobs, and then she slinks forward, slow and catlike. Her stride, and every motion of her muscles beneath her flesh that accompanies it, are mesmerising. And with every sway of her hips, you love her tight body more.

She pauses, a foot by the edge, and looks down into the water. Steam rises and envelops her form in a pale white that hugs her curves.

"Please, step in," you say as you walk over to her side and take her hand. Now, you catch a glimpse of her profile, and her chest, small, round and perky, and as you avert your eyes to guide her down the step, you tell her, "Watch your step now, go from stone to stone until you stand in the middle just there."

"Got it," Dani says. She steps with confidence and the hot water reaches quickly above her ankles and then halfway up her calves. With each careful move down the next step she gasps, soft and light. The water splashes with her movement and then swallows her up to the upper thigh.

"Please, take a seat there, on the wide stone." You reach to help steady her as she sinks down, her knees bending as she perches down so the water is at her hips as she sits.

"I just sit?"

"Yes, Dani, and I will bathe you." You step into the pool until the hot flowing water covers your knees, and then you stand behind her. You reach for a sponge, submerge it, and watch it fill, then draw it out and over her lower back and drag a large circle across her soft skin. "How's the water? Feel okay?"

"Great. Wow." She goes quiet as you work up and down her back, long, relaxing, soothing strokes until all the tension has left her shoulders. "That's wonderful," she says.

You clean her shoulders and then down her arms, the sponge dipping under the surface, and caressing her in a movement that feels like worship. With a slow rhythm, you run the sponge over her shoulders and around her neck, and finally, reaching over her, down to her chest. She shifts back as you do, resting herself against your legs. You run it over her chest a few times before coming up again to her shoulders.

"So soft..." her voice says, almost a breathy moan, and you catch a hint of it. Maybe she realises how it sounds because she soon goes quiet. Next, you work downwards, to her tight, toned stomach. Slowly you make sure you cleanse every part of her body. All while her back rests on you and her breathing is warm and pleasant.

"Miss, I mean Dani, can you stand now? We need to get you clean." You prompt, a hand on her shoulder.

"Sure." Dani snaps out of it. She stretches and cracks her neck before rising, leaning forward for a moment. When she rises, ripples run out in all directions and your eyes drift over her ass. It looks plump, perky, perfect. Then you sponge it, giving purpose to your stare. You push it down, over her cheeks and Dani shivers.

You repeat your slow, languid movements. Wipe away any trace of imperfection from her hips and thighs and then when you make her slowly step out of the pool, you work down her bit by bit. Finally, she stands on the edge of the pool, looking down at you, towering over you in her naked glory. She presents to you her foot and you hold her ankle to steady it and clean each digit, scrubbing between the toes.

"You can take the towel, on the peg, Dani."

"You do it." Dani doesn't move at all, keeping her eyes on you, staring into your eyes and through you.

You cautiously nod and then climb from the pool. You keep eye contact and wrap the towel around her small, wet frame. In your arms, she feels so fragile. You rub her down, first her legs. Long strokes, left and right. Each, in turn, both legs. Then you bring the towel up. When you wrap it over her hip and move upwards along her torso, Dani presses herself to you.

"You really know how to put someone at ease," she mutters.

You nod silently in return, and finish drying her shoulders, down her arms, back up, and down her back. You remain stoic as the heat between you builds, and she turns around without prompting. You wrap her again and bring the towel all the way down. Then over her rear. Soft, short circular motions with your palm.

"The table in the next room, Dani. Start by lying on your front, you can use the towel on the table to cover yourself. Once I see you settled in, I'll join you."

She laughs quietly and starts her slow walk to the door. You take your own towel, drying your legs, the water has soaked into the front of your shorts from where she leant against you.

She's on the bed. The towel, provided for her decency, is in a pile on the floor.

"Dani, the towel..."

"I'm fine, I want it off. I want everything off. Is that a problem for you?" There's this undeniably confident quality to her like the universe just has to be as it is because she likes it that way.

"Not a problem," you tell her. "It does tend to get in the way."

You're close to the bed now, looking down at her, still so perfectly nude. So vulnerable and relaxed, and not a drop of shame in her eyes. She gives you a look that says she's in charge, and that she's been waiting for this, and now it's finally going to happen. And that smile is impossible to refuse. "You could join me if it helps. Make it feel more like an equal partnership."

"Miss— I—"

"I'm joking," she winks. Danielle bunches her hair by her head and turns her head to the side as she rests.

The first of your oils, imported, rich and infused, drip with a consistency thick as honey over her. You watch it roll from the top of her back and run down her spine. Its warmth makes her twitch gently.

Slowly you reach out, press your hands into her skin and drag them from top to bottom, following the oil, making sure you cover her.

She hums in delight.

With great care, you begin your work. Fingers sink in, and your thumbs feel her muscles. Stroking and rubbing, from the top of her back, your fingers coax and prod at the flesh beneath. Pressing it back and forth, at times as gentle as a summer breeze and then as hard as a hammer.

There are knots in her back, beneath the tender surface. You find them easily and work at them to relax, coax them into submission, untying the muscles until they go soft. She gasps at your touch as you release them. Her body responds to you in the sweetest ways. With the smallest of whispers, the little fluttering breaths, and with her skin taking on a pink glow.

When the last knot goes soft, she writhes in response, and a content, relaxed murmur comes out of her.

"Oh god, that's it, don't stop," she says, the first words to come from her for a while.

"You were very tight." You reach across, add a small amount of more oil and start working back upwards. One stroke at a time. Up her neck. Over her shoulders. She trembles when you go deep into her flesh and reaches out to grasp at something, anything, and finds the edge of the table, holding herself steady. Her arms now, you lift them one by one, prying them from her grip and then holding and rubbing and pulling to coax the stiffness out.

Oil over her legs, next. Slowly you run your hands over the outside and inside and rub them into her skin, kneading it into her. Danielle keeps her mouth firmly shut the whole time. No jokes. Nothing funny. You lean down to her, focusing on her thigh that refuses to let go. Bending down, you push into her. As you feel her tension drain, you are rewarded with another quiet hiss.

You place the oil upon her feet and work it into her soles with a finger, an instant trigger, she cackles as her foot recoils at your touch. "Sorry, that's a bit ticklish," she tells you, apologetically.

Her feet go still and she inhales deeply as you set back to your task, much to the quiet amusement of Danielle. It's the slowest you have ever worked on a client, with long, dragging strokes to make sure she really enjoys it. Each is careful, so careful, to pull and tease. "Keep working it all the way up, all the way up my legs," she orders, quietly. "Nice and slow. Can you do that?"

You agree.

You hear Danielle sigh as you move your hands slowly up her calf. So soft and firm at the same time as she breathes so gently. A trace of laughter, an easy smile. You work her in the same manner, up her thigh, as slow and relaxing as before, massaging deep and heavy. Danielle begins to roll her hips as you grip the flesh at the top of her thighs and dig in.

"Higher, please, just for me." Danielle makes a little hum to accompany the instruction. You obey, knowing where this is leading. You take the oil, and let it pour lightly onto the peak of her cheek, it threatens to roll away so you capture it in your palm, a firm squeeze of her rear, a spread of oily warmth. She shivers and pushes up her hips in silent encouragement.

Your hands trail along, smooth and oily, each touch brings more shivers. Her legs part slightly, a slow squirm of her hips. Your fingers glide on her tight, round cheeks; running across, back and forth as she breathes deep. You press deeper with each sweep and listen as her gasps become a little louder, and her body moves a little more. She bends her arm, reaching back, as you watch it shake. Her nails claw onto the side of the bed.

The more you tease her with your touch, the harder she grips and the more she parts her legs. You've known the perfection of her body, just by seeing it, but this feeling confirms it.

Your hand wanders with long, oily strokes as you glide up her back, tracing the curves of her slim back up, all the way to her neck. There, you hold her as you lean in. "You can turn over now. Let's work out your front," you say, and Dani nods in agreement.

She smiles, though she remains silent, slowly, with such care, turning onto her side, then twisting to face you, her face flush, eyes drowsy, her mouth agape. She rests upon her back, arms by her sides, legs flat against the bed, open, as you gaze into her eyes.

You apply the oil with long slow strokes down her stomach, feeling her as she flinches, watching the dimples at her waist appear then vanish with her body's twists, with every flexing of her muscles. When you trace up, her flat, beautiful chest, and slowly slide a finger beneath her small pert breast, Dani takes a deep, quick, raspy breath, then says, "They didn't lie when the reviews said you have the best hands in the world."

Your oil-covered thumbs graze upon her nipple, soft at first, gentle in pressure, but this becomes firmer, building and rising, faster. Round and round it swirls, and this delight sends Danielle's breath to hitches and sharp, shallow pants. As she squirms in delight, her legs twist, rubbing and clenching. Her teeth bite down on her lips. The flesh of her body glistens.

One hand reaches, down a thigh then back up, across her stomach and down the other. Repeated in pattern as the other thumb never ceases on her pert nipple. Dani's eyes go blank as your touch continues, circling, teasing, stroking and grabbing. Her body responds and you are delighted to witness every tremor and gasp as it arches. And finally, for the first time, a full-blooded moan rings free.

Your hand goes lower. Deeper into the pit of her thigh as she spreads her legs wide. You seek out the inevitable and when you reach her crotch, you watch her tense up. And when the touch slides between her pussy's folds, and against her clit, there's an immediate reaction, her body jumping as you make the slightest flick of motion with your middle finger. You lift and let a trail of oil roll down her slit and back down to her rear.

"I wasn't really joking before," she gasps. "You should be naked. It would make this whole experience better." Dani tilts her head, fixes her drowsy gaze onto you, and holds the stare for what feels like a hundred heartbeats. "Don't you think that's fair? The way things are going?"

You hold the eye contact and consider this, a sudden lump in your throat making any immediate reply a struggle. Her eyes don't move from yours. Even her chest barely heaves with her short, fast panting.

"Go on, I want you naked. I'm going to feel so, so empty otherwise..."

That's all it takes.

How could you deny her?

Your hands, still covered in the hot oil, reach for the buttons at your collar. You slip them in order from the top and release one after another. Danielle's lips twitch, and her teeth rake them to a shine. Your clothing drops to the floor. Bared. It feels so wrong, and unprofessional, yet Dani looks on and gapes with a hungry, dark delight.

"Nervous now?" Her eyebrow twitches up.

"Never," you bluff.

Danielle's mouth stays open wide, and her breaths get caught and flicker as your touch returns to the same spot as before. Gentle, light touches flutter with your fingertips, drawing the tips of your fingers back and forth, back and forth, over her clit. You watch as her eyes widen, how her legs straighten out and she starts to kick her feet with the faintest hint of frustration as you tease.

"I paid for a deep massage." She emphasises the adjective, dragging the syllable out like a whine. "This teasing is bad for my heart," she whispers.

Her arm rises, then reaches for your chest and trails its way downward. The pressure of her finger, nails lightly scratching at your skin, trailing down to the waistline and then she wraps her slender fingers around you. It's hard. Incredibly so.

"And I'll show you how generous I can be with a tip."

She licks her lips slowly and sensually as her eyes meet yours with a mischievous gleam.

You grunt, pressing down with your fingertip, and then without a second thought, push it inside of her. Danielle throws her head back in silent bliss.

"Holy shit," she mumbles in a muffled, muted moan. "Don't hold back." You circle inside her slowly with one finger, letting the oil's moisture guide you. Then, adding a second digit, you delve back into her, pushing in deep and making sure she can feel it all the way inside as the palm of your hand pushes against her crotch.

Dani rolls her head to one side as you work, staring you right in the eyes and biting down on her lip as she throbs and you press down inside of her, moving in all sorts of subtle directions that are impossible for her to guess. With that, she moans again and there's a little grunt from deep within her. Her fist twists around you and she gets bolder with her touch.

You build it into some sort of rhythm and she moves, each time, reacting so well with your own thrusts. When she's relaxed enough for it, you introduce another finger.

"I— You can— Go a little bit faster," she pleas. Stretched wider, Dani starts to grow even more restless. This time, instead of small, languid strokes, your whole hand works, fingers rubbing and swirling, thumb finding her clit to massage it with purpose, building, always building, until she is shuddering under you, every single time, tensing and twitching with every change in direction.

"Come on—more," she pleads, bucking up against your hand, so slick with arousal.

She's barely jerking your cock, not even intentionally, just the jolts through her body causing the occasional twist of her grip or slide of her palm. You let it just rest in the loose curl of her grip and focus on doing what she commands, twisting your hand, gripping and stroking, tugging in circles and holding inside. The quivering gets worse and worse. And her breath grows heavier.

You keep working her relentlessly, as she squeals a drawn-out curse. Dani nearly loses control. She grips you hard, tightens her fist around you in spasm, a pained wince on her face, as she curls her toes so hard.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop." It's the only thing she says, no jokes, no banter, as her eyes roll back, mouth agape as if the wind's been knocked from her, and a final, body-length spasm overtakes her. Her whole body. Back arched off the table, eyes pinched shut. It lasts for the longest time, almost impossible to sustain, you watch with an odd mix of terror and wonder. Her hair is a mess. Her naked, stretched-out limbs, glisten in the warm light.

It takes her a good half minute to fall back down, her lungs now sucking in the air as if there were none at all. One leg quivers. Her breaths slow, her eyes open again and you're holding her stare, her cheeks a faint scarlet, strands of hair plastered across her forehead.

More oil. More rubbing. From tension to relaxation again. Slowly she softens and you turn her whole body limp beneath your hands. All while you barely manage to hold yourself back from ravishing her. She keeps her eyes fixed upon you, so you force a smile, ignoring the ache clenched in her fist. You could kiss those lips, right now. Taste them. How soft and smooth would she feel pressed against you? What noises would come out of her?

You'd be forgiven for letting your imagination run wild with desire, but not forgiven for taking this service in any direction that Danielle didn't command.

She watches your thoughts as they float by, and seems to be considering the same. Then she smirks, and just with a look, reassures you that it's going to happen, and it's going to happen just exactly the way she wants it.

You're working your slick hands over her midriff, and have been for a minute or two, waiting for instruction. You work slightly up her body, perilously close to taking some initiative, but then she speaks, "That was... unexpected."

"Was it? Seemed to be your plan all along."

"Planned to tease. Planned to be touched. But did not expect it to be that good." She shakes her head softly, her cheek touching her shoulder as she stares with a fuzzy, dreamy look that is impossible to decipher. She has a cute, beautiful way of pouting her lips that's fascinating, you're struck still, hypnotised by the sight and the motion. "A few more would be perfect."

"You have me booked for another hour, and the client gets what the client wants."

Dani laughs. A light, melodious chime. "I know what I want," she tells you, gently rocking her palm over your cock. "I'm incredibly hard to fully satisfy, you better get to work."

Dani releases you from her grasp, and turns back over to her front, stretching out once more and looking back at you over her shoulder, holding a stare as she parts her legs. This stare could kill a man if his heart were too weak, and though your heartbeat quickens, your mind focuses on your purpose.

Your hands glide over her oil-coated thighs, wet and glistening. Dani rests her head back down and you are unable to stop your gaze from wandering along her spine, the gentle dimple above her ass, the two tight round cheeks below and the line bisecting between them. Up over her ass, you caress, then you slip and stroke in the valley, this, she clearly enjoys, judging from how her butt rises to greet your touch, her hips rolling once more.

Lower now. Lower and lower, until once again, your finger meets her lower lips and she hisses an inwards breath and tenses. Her body is so reactive to every touch. It makes this so easy, so rewarding, so deeply arousing. You are confident you can build her up, high, and crash her down in waves, for hours, until the sun breaks.

Two fingers again, to begin, that same twist and swirl to coax her towards delirium. Her quiet huffs and suppressed moans fill the air. With a heavy push, you dive in deeper, to watch as her whole body, muscle by muscle, starts to become lost in the sensation. And when you curl your fingers down and grind the heel of your hand over her clit, Dani absolutely loses it. She bites the sheets, body tight, hands trying to grab the far edge of the bed to give something to hold onto.

Her feet kick uselessly and a series of incomprehensible phrases fill her breath and break apart on the way out of her. Though you don't quite understand them, you grasp the meaning. This is what she wants you to do right now, to see how high you can bring her.

Her whole body starts trembling again. Tingling, quivering, shivering. It's one constant shake and her moans are louder, and longer. She struggles to breathe out a scream. Sweat begins to mix in the oil, and she lets out another unintelligible mess of words as you pull away. Dani collapses back into a quivering heap, gasping for air and stretching her hands out as if reaching out to the void, reaching out, grasping for something in the dark.

She lies there, spent, breathing deep. Her entire body is hot and burning as her muscles relax. Each breath is a moan, and her thighs clamp tightly together as if the feeling of nothing after being so worked up is torturous to endure.

Your fingers are soaked in her creamy fluids, it drips down onto the bed below. Yet somehow, this isn't over. No. There's a single goal, right in the back of your mind, that's never stopped clawing. If only you could taste her. Sink your face between her firm ass cheeks and tease her with your tongue and suck and devour her, the entirety of her.

Maybe you could ask. Or maybe you could just start kissing her lower back, your nose rubbing against her tailbone, working to the left, towards her hip and tease, trailing your lips ever lower to a spot just over the peak of her butt, until she wants your tongue to dive right in.

The thought is interrupted by her blessing, "Again. Another. However you want," her words stumble upon each other, a raspy, spent quality to her. "Whatever you want."

You kneel at the very end of the bed, lean over and take her hips and you lift them up with an abrupt strength that earns her immediate interest, judging by her sudden gasp. You put her on her knees, ass in the air. Beneath it, her lips shine and spread. You're going to drown in her. You lean over, planting kisses along her body until they land right where your fingers had been, right along her soaked pussy.

The taste is so sweet. Dani whimpers as her body twitches. Your lips part her, and your tongue stretches and laps her up with an unshakeable excitement. Dani tastes amazing, like every inch of her, hot and rich and so unbelievably delicate. She is desire—concentrated and distilled into the female form. Your mouth descends, kissing every tiny spot you can reach, your lips closing, sucking the sticky warmth into your mouth. You might spend the rest of eternity here, savouring her juices.

Each rough lick gives Dani a small burst of pleasure. This is perhaps not the most elegant approach, but you wouldn't dream of stopping and so you continue, over and over, eager to return Dani to her previous, tranced bliss. So wet and sweet and smooth as velvet, your tongue flattens over her clit.

Dani cums twice like this. Ass in the air, your face in her cunt, two more delicious releases and you lap up both. They come accompanied by Dani's musical screams and moans and swearing and mumbles and complete incoherence. Every part of her body tenses. Every movement becomes forced, with less control, until every part of her, quivering and shaking, is taken by a rapture. Her throat chokes off her moans and breathy whimpers, and then she becomes lost for a time, struggling to remember to breathe, caught up in the overwhelming, and unstoppable waves.

"Enough, enough," Dani chokes out, and so you stand back, watching as she twists back into a flat position on her back again, her hips shaking with the effort. She trembles for a while longer before lying perfectly still on the table. As you gaze at her, she still appears ethereal, unattainable. She gazes up at you with lidded eyes and the drowsy content smile that rests upon her lips—she is a goddess. Even after all those body-racking orgasms, she settles into that same elegant grace that makes you question what makes her mortal.

Dani raises a hand and curls a beckoning finger, "Come here."

And you come to her, to her smile that draws you in, a moth to a flame and the moth will burn, not the flame, it will never tire, it will consume anything. She takes you in her hand, hard and throbbing under her delicate touch, and yet so helpless against it. With a pull, Dani draws you in—to consume.

She parts those pretty, pink, curled lips and then looks up into your eyes and sighs as her warm breath runs across your length. Danielle curls her tongue to the underside of your head and engulfs it. She doesn't raise her head from where it rests, instead making you clamber up to her, so you put a knee on the wooden frame and a hand next to her shoulder. The heat grows, and Dani is swirling her tongue over your tip, making you twitch and throb in her grasp, a slave to her touch.

You're pushing forward, leaning over her, as her mouth opens wide and lets you in, then, all at once, tightens. Her tongue and lips stretch around your thickness and then enclose you, sealing tight. She makes a point of looking you in the eye, holding your stare, a curl at the corner of her mouth that only further sets a tremble to your loins. She pulls, slow, agonising and without hurry, her mouth holds tight and sucks back.

You pull out of her, an inch, and she stays clamped tight and as she draws away, she uses the time to slowly slide her tongue along and around your crown and against the sensitive underside. Once Danielle has pulled right off with a wet smack, the warmth of her breath covers your cock once more. She flicks her tongue against your tip, first as a long, sweeping, lingering brush, then a rapid flick that teases.

"Dani, fuck," you groan.

"That's the idea," she whispers, right against you, her warm, panting breath driving you crazy, her own burning desire barely contained. "Get down there and do me. Right now."

Then, in one fluid movement, her hands find her legs. She grips behind her knees and pulls her thighs up and back. She spreads her legs wide, with her feet in the air.

"Fuck me. I mean it," she states firmly, fixing you with that stern gaze. Her words send a flaming arrow directly to light the most basic of your instincts.

She has presented everything to you and wants to give even more. You can think of nothing else but ploughing her into the table until your vision fades to white. It takes only seconds and you find yourself over her, between those slim legs. You put a hand on each thigh and spread her.

Cock bearing down on her leaking cunt, you lower your body until she has all of your weight on top of her. Her hips squirm under your pressure, and she drags your arm tighter around herself until she finds exactly what she's been looking for. A rub between her folds as your length slips against her, up and down.

"Mmm, yes," she giggles, "put it in, all of it."

In an almost unconscious action, you place the head of your cock against her opening. Her wetness provides no friction, and Dani uses her nails to scratch your back impatiently. Slowly you flex forward. Every inch. So warm, so fucking hot. Tighter than anything.

"Oh, yes," is all Dani has to say as her breath cuts short. You feel the intense squeeze, you have no doubt this is a step beyond the pleasure your fingers gave her, and her entire body tightens, and she pulls you in, deep and full. Her eyes grow wide and her fingers dig into you as you draw back and drive in once more.

Another moan, her pitch gets deeper, this one drawn out from her very core. You hear it right in her chest, from the depth of her lungs, before it squeals free, right into your ear. "Worth every penny." Her words are thick and drawled, hard to make out, she can't seem to decide whether she wants to open her mouth or close it and keep it shut.

She wraps her arms tight around your neck and pulls you in deeper, you push her legs higher, folding her body up and it only makes things tighter, a thrill she clearly relishes.

You roll forward, holding her close to you, giving you a better purchase with her feet held up so high. Dani groans as you bite and suck at the soft skin along her neck. Your thrusts are still slow, so damnably slow. You push, and fill, and wait. Over and over, it's a cruel torment to both of you.

"Ah, come on. Give it to me, hard," Dani says, raking nails on your neck. She turns her head. Finds your mouth. Seals her lips against yours. Teeth nibble and then her tongue penetrates your mouth. Her hips start to rise and drop. Her sex grabs at you, pleading to pound her.

So you let go of your iron self-restraint and fuck her. Fuck her good.

Your tempo grows more powerful. Her walls squeeze and pull and writhe with a desperate need. It's tight, so, so tight, the way she envelops you, the slick warmth around you. Each stroke sends a shudder through her. Another ripple follows and with it, her high, pitchy wails. Dani's never been so loud, so demanding that her pleasure be delivered.

Number five is close, you can feel her body going rigid, the quivering, twitching, curling of her toes, the growing tension, you go faster, a force building within, trying to rush her to the inevitable. Dani screams, moaning incoherently, her eyes screw tight as you throw yourself into her with such ferocity, like an animal, with no regard for pace, or rhythm. Pure, unrelenting pleasure.

She grips so hard on your shoulder, and then her other hand goes back, over her head, gripping the edge of the table in white-knuckled desperation. "I'm... cumming," Dani spits through a clenched jaw, unable to even form her tongue around the word.

Her orgasm feels more powerful this time, so much more; it flows through her and you can't help but stare. Watching the way the pink blossom blooms on her face and how the rest of her pales. One orgasm into another, you think, it's difficult to discern. You're in no rush. No race. Instead, you delight in the absolute loss of control you see in Danielle's face and you feed off it.

Her mouth forms a soundless scream and she reaches up and sinks her nails into your chest and drags them across, not breaking the skin, but hard enough to leave marks. It feels amazing. All the more so watching Danielle break herself, willingly.

"Holy shit..." Danielle pants then sucks air into her empty lungs.

Her little, flexible body, pinned beneath yours, seems incapable of even the tiniest motion, save the trembles.

Through gritted teeth, she says, "I want— I want a facial. My face. Cum."

This is the single sexiest thing she could have possibly said at that moment. For all the time you've spent watching that pretty doll-like face contort in a hundred different ways, you want nothing more than to see it coated with your lust. To paint every last bit of that sweetness on her lips, on her cheeks—everywhere. To witness that brief moment, after climax where she is confused and awash with bliss and trying to remember how to breathe, and it's interrupted by a load of your cum. You want it.

You round the table, standing over her head, lowering down and watching her eyes spark with anticipation. Danielle knows how bad you want it, how close it is, and you watch, enraptured by the way she tilts her head up and licks her lips. Her little, eager tongue.

Dani wraps her fingers around you and strokes and pumps fast, pulling, urging you to completion, teasing you to spill over her, onto those pretty, dainty features. Your skin feels alive, like static and pinpricks and pure lightning, like your nerves have come to the surface. Pent-up energy coils low, threatening to snap. You cannot resist her anymore.

It all unfurls in a glorious, explosive instant. Blinding. A shiver climbs up your spine, spreading to every limb in one long spasm. A long, raw growl in your throat as you shoot thick and hard, some on her face, and some overshooting onto her chest. Dani gasps a cute little "Oh" and then starts to giggle as the second rope lands right over her perfect little features. And then another, this time across the bridge of her nose and her cheek and down her lips. Her tongue collects whatever it can.

Dani's small hand keeps a hard grip and keeps coaxing, even as you feel like you have nothing to give, with it all painting her face, still, she jerks up and down, until you are empty, trembling and drained. Still, she goes, forcing you through painful shivers, laughing the whole time until the pain becomes too much, and your hands take hers and pull.

You prop yourself against the table, looking down at the mess you made. Dani's happily laughing to herself, licking up what she can. "You'll need to clean me again now, won't you? Sponge away all your dirty filth," she giggles.

Her giggle is intoxicating. Loving. It warms you right through. You wish you could bottle up her laughter.

"Need a minute," you grunt, and there's so much pride on her cum-strewn face.

"Aw, need time for recovery?" Dani quips. "I'll just lay here, all messy and defiled. Waiting to be tended to. Enjoy the sight of me, of your filthy cum all over my sweet, innocent face, until you get the strength to lift me. Really, don't rush, I love this feeling."

[gaysindistress]

What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man?

a/n: This is technically part two for this list. You could read them separately but I really think you should read them both so you can fully feel the angst.

non-mcu characters masterlist

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries this is one is for you girl

Price stalks over to him and grabs him by the front of his vest, not caring that everyone can see what’s going on. “You call and apologize to her right now, ya hear me? It’s unacceptable for you to lie to her like that and I should have your balls for it. You fix it before she does go off and find herself a better man.”

Now let’s say that when Simon got back, things were….different. You rarely fought but now you’re bickering about every little thing and having full on battles of the will that leave you crying in the bedroom while he’s storming out. The connection between you two feels strained and distant where’s before it was warm and comforting. You barely look at each other and sometimes you think he’s straight up ignoring you.

Even the dogs have started to notice that there’s something off about mom and dad. Most nights you’ll sleep alone with the dogs by your door while Simon is on the couch. It feels like they’re laying in wait, ready to spring into action if anything were to happen. They don’t go to him as much as they did before and your female dog, Echo, refuses to leave your side. She’s become glued to you while your other dog, Zade, keeps you within eyesight at all times. It really pisses Simon off because Zade is supposed to be his dog and the mutt won’t even look at him (Simon’s words, not yours).

It all comes to a head though one night when Simon is trying to get Zade to come with him on a walk and the dog just stares at him. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t blink. He just stares into Simon’s soul and judges him for how he’s been treating you.

“Zade! Come here now!” Simon grumbles in a half shout but the dog doesn’t move a muscle. You’re in the bedroom with Echo at your feet and she glances over at you with a look that says ‘let’s go’.

What happened next is a blur. Echo barely makes it into the living room before she’s growling and placing herself between you and Simon. Zade is up and stalking closer to his sister’s side while Simon is growing more and more angry. You don’t think you even had the time to say anything before Echo and Zade tackle Simon to the ground. You know they wouldn’t hurt him but it’s still a terrifying sight and you’re doing everything you can to get the dogs off of him. You manage to get them off but they refuse to go to their kennels and keep tucked behind you, still ready to protect you if needed.

“Simon, oh my god are you okay?” You ask him in a panicked and high pitched voice as you try to help him up. He shoves your hands off of him and accidentally uses too much force which sends you to stumbling into the dogs.

Everything is absolute chaos with his anger, the dogs trying to protect you, and now you’re crying while trying not to tell him off. At this point you grab the dogs by their collars and pull them away as tears are streaming down your face. When they hear your sniffles, they immediately give into you and let you pull them to the bedroom. You don’t hear Simon as you start to pack as much as you can. The weeks of being on edge have finally gotten to you and you’re done.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who isn’t willing to communicate with you.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who used to be the most loving and devoted man you’ve ever met but now he can’t acknowledge your presence.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who’s come so far and has forgiven himself for the things he’s done but now he’s slipping back into his old self destructive ways.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who can’t be honest with himself and admit that he’s wrong.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who’s become Ghost.

You’ve tried having faith in him after he broke up with you but it’s rotting you from the inside out. It’s eating away at your heart, gnawing at your ribs with your flesh stuck in its teeth. This faith is liquifying the kindness and patience you once had. It’s changing you into an anxious shell of a coward who can’t stand up for yourself. Change is alright but this is not. This change is making you cruel and hopeless while it waits for you to become a faithless savage who devours whatever light touches you.

It’s only when you come back into the living room with your bags packed and the dogs ready to go that Simon says something to you.

He questions what you’re doing.

He doesn’t apologize.

“I’m leaving. We’ll figure out everything tomorrow,” you tell him as you find your keys.

“What do you mean?”

You stop. You stare at the front door with completely blank eyes. They flicker to him over your shoulder.

“I’m leaving you. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can figure out how to make it a clean break then.”

He doesn’t say a word. Neither do you after that.

He lets you walk out the door. You don’t ask him to fight for you either.

He lets you leave him. You don’t turn back either.

You meant to drive to your friend’s place but somewhere on the way there you pull over and cry until you feel like you’re going to pass out. Zade and Echo watch from the backseat of your car with their heads on your center console. They want to comfort you but there’s not exactly room for two 100 pound dogs in the front seat so they stay put. Your friend calls you frantically because she’s not home but tells you that you should come meet her wherever she’s at. As nice as it might be to get away, it’s not appealing to you at the moment so you call the only other person you know you’d be comfortable with right now.

A part of you knows it’s a mistake to call him and if Simon finds out, he might very well almost kill his captain a third time. The other part of you knows that John would be understanding and the calm presence that you want right now. He already checks on you regularly so would it be a huge surprise if you showed up on his doorstep?

As if he’s been waiting for this moment, John already has a guest room for you and has the back door open for the dogs to run around outside. They’ve met him before so they feel more secure with leaving your side although they both give him a warning look.

Now it’s important to remember that the entire time you’ve known John, you’ve been with Simon. John thinks himself a gentleman, albeit a bit gruff, but a gentleman no less so you’ve been off limits. Obviously he can’t ignore the initial attraction he felt towards you because you are an utterly breathtaking person and it would be impossible to not notice that. He’s tried to lock away the yearning that tugs at the marrow in his bones when he sees you but it’s difficult. It’s like asking a dog to stop begging; they might listen for a moment but they go back to it within seconds. Also during the course of your friendship, he’s come to know the absolute amazing person that you are and seen that you have the kindness soul he’s ever known. It didn’t used to hurt when he saw you but after that night you texted him to keep Simon safe after he broke up with you, it’s damn near unbearable. Simon told you to find yourself a better man and John knows he could be that man. He wants to be that man but only if you come to him. He won’t approach you or even hint at it with you. It needs to be you who seeks him out. It needs to be you who wants him. It needs to be you who asks him to be that man otherwise John would never be able to forgive himself if it all went wrong.

Nothing happens that night or at all for that matter during your stay with John. It was meant to only be a few days but with losing your house so suddenly and trying to navigate a world Post Simon, it ends up being a few weeks. You feel awful about it and promise that you’ll be gone as soon as you can. John always laughs it off and tells you to stay as long as you need. Secretly he’s growing accustomed to your calming presence and gentle ways. He adores how thoughtful you are when you have to work early and barely make a sound. He appreciates how you make him a plate and leave it in the fridge if he comes home late. He’s thankful that you’re comfortable enough with him to tell him about everything that’s going on.

John made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t bring up anything unless you said something first. Even when he wants desperately to know why you’re crying when you came back from Simon’s tonight, he won’t. Instead he offers you a cup of tea, a warm blanket, and some space while he busies himself in his shop outside. It absolutely destroys him to even think about leaving you alone in the living room but it’s the right thing to do.

Just as he’s getting ready to leave, your small voice stops him.

“Can…can you stay?” It’s unusual for you to not be confident in your words. It causes him to freeze to hear the uncertainty. “If..if you want.”

He smiles at the ground before turning to look at you and nod. You’re curled into a ball on the couch with your dogs at your feet but there’s space for him next to you. You lean away from the arm of the couch and he takes the hint. Settling into the space between you and couch, he tosses his arm over the back and lets you decide how to proceed. Against your logical head, you tuck yourself into his side with yours pulled around yourself and your head on his shoulder. His fingers itch to play with the ends of your hair but they stay tightly closed around the couch cushion.

“Thank you…for everything.”

“No need for that.” He murmurs with bated breath. He knows you can feel the tension, how could you not when you’re practically laying on his chest?

“One day you’re going to accept my thanks. It might not be tomorrow or the day after, but you will,” you say with a snort. He says that every single time and you reply with the same phrase every time as well.

John’s hand betrays him and starts to play with the very ends of your hair. You feel it just like you felt his strained breathing. It’s strange to feel affection from anyone else but from him, it’s…. welcomed. You don’t acknowledge it and he knows that you’re doing that for his own sake.

“Maybe,” he tosses back and his breath catches when you move closer to him. Your arm moves to wrap around his waist and stills when he tenses. It’s your silent way of asking for consent to hold him. “Love,” he starts and moves his hand away from your hair.

You move to look at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. He’s looking at you with such tenderness and warmth it makes your stomach flip.

“Do you have feelings for me?” You ask him directly, unwilling to be tossed around again. It’s abrasive and you know there’s a better way to have asked but it gets straight to the point.

John looks sick and a tight lipped smile pulls across his face as he tries to come up with an answer. “I…love I think you need to rest. There’s been a…”

“No. Answer the question.”

He glances down at your lips and that’s telling enough.

“Now isn’t the right time,” he whispers more to himself than to you. “You’ve just gone through…”

Cutting him off, you say firmly, “and that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

He can only stare at you with half lidded eyes and pray that he doesn’t break in front of you. His resolve is crumbling and it’s only thanks to his military service that he’s not throwing himself at you.

“I told him it’s over.”

John tries to interrupt you but you silence him with a pointed look. “I told him that I will always love him but that doesn’t mean I want to be with him anymore. I won’t wait around for him to figure his life out. I don’t deserve that. I deserve a man who knows what he wants and will communicate with me.”

Honestly it feels like his world is crumbling around him. You’re here snuggled into his chest and saying all these things which he knows what they mean but he can’t believe that you know what they mean. He can’t trust his own understanding of you and believe that you’d mean that.

“I need you to tell me what you want…now.”

You.

He wants you. More than anything in the world, John Price wants you and you’re asking him to confess that secret.

[trashmouth-richie]

⁂ 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡 + 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 || a mini series || eddie x you

“soul ties” based but with a spin — 1.2k PART 2

[reader and her lover are souls bound to one another for eons and eons, they always find their way back to one another no matter how long it takes or what bodies they might be in, but when reader feels the magnetic pull of her other half and wills the girl’s body she is in to find her lover— the body her lover belongs to is a boy— none other than the meanest boy in hawkins, eddie munson] 

trigger warnings: 18+ smut, bisexual! eddie, mean! eddie, shy! girl, smut. etc eddie and the body reader lives in are mostly referred to as “the girl” and “the boy”, they are both 18 in this story. 

reader (you) is a “soul” in this story, meaning you are only bound to the body you are inhabiting during this lifetime. The girl will have features mentioned— but again— you (the reader) are a soul, which i imagine to be a flame of all colors. 

Her soul knew his. 

Knew him before she’d even met him in this body. Knew him before her eyes caught his. A magnetic pull sought him out and there he was, and the two souls buzzed, destined to be together. 

As if every star had aligned, he found you, again.. 

You look different this time. His soul spoke. The body is shapely, but those eyes still burn through me like fire. 

My eyes only burn for you my love. You purred back, in this body, and the next and the one after that. 

Eons had come and gone and in each one you found each other. Sometimes it took longer than the last, having only minutes together instead of years. Other times you were reborn in the same city. But this time, your bodies were not friendly to one another. 

Your lover's body was tall, pale, human male species. A mop of wavy hair that he rarely seemed to comb. The body you lived in belonged to a human female species. But was more reserved than the boy, quieter… except when her conscience talked for her in her head, then she was funny. 

Judging by the years you had been here, you thought that possibly she was eighteen, and in those years you waited for him. 

A similar soul had reached out to you, pretending to be him. The body was handsome, fit, skin kissed by the sun. A wriggly mustache that tickled the girls lips.

This boy went by the name Billy, and he was kind to the girl at first. He bought her many gifts, and told her that he loved her. 

But where your lover smelled of soap and cedar, this soul smelled of rich smoke and his eyes were hurt and angry, unlike the kind ones you’d spent centuries finding in every different body imaginable. The soul was shielded behind a mask, pretending to be something he should be, not something he needed. 

The girl cried when he left, but you were proud of her, and you showed her in her dreams the happiness she would one day have, once she found him, your love. 

— 

He looked for you for years. But this body was not like any others he had been attached to before. This boy went by many names:

Edward

Eddie

Dungeon Master

Eddie the Banished

Mr. Munson

and The Freak.

Mostly just Eddie though. His elders did not care for him, and in his younger years he spent nights writing about his sadness, tears leaking onto his scrawled handwriting. 

A man of some relation to the boy came to care for him, and the boy became happy once again, slowly, he gained trust. 

The boy had many hobbies that were new and interesting to him. He plucked a warlock and screamed into a microphone. He threw dice and moved figurines into position he had carefully planned out months in advance. Music and fantasy seemed to be a large part of the boy’s life. But where oh where, were you?

It wouldn’t be the first time he found you in a body similar to his, the same species with the same anatomy. When another boy who played basketball, and was well liked started noticing the boy, his heart raced. 

Steve was his name. His soul was sweet, smelling of roses and perfume. But it was not you, and the boy couldn’t love Steve the way he had hoped he could. 

It was mutual. No stars aligned for this engagement, it was merely physical, no soul bonds to tie together. 

One day, something pulsed and hummed. And he knew, he knew you were close, even if the boy was still asleep at noon, he could feel it. The pull, the stroke of his lover's touch. 

It was the magnet. 

—

The girl volunteered to tutor a smaller child somewhere in a Forest. You were excited for the adventure, excited to see the old trees and smell the pines, feel the humidity on her skin. But sadly there wasn’t a forest, only a lot made of brown earth. Houses scattered about that all looked similar in one way or another. Animals ran around freely, residing in trash cans and front steps, and it made you giggle. 

Would your lover remember the time he was a cat and you were a very small human child? The elders did not understand why the child adored the orange animal so much, or how the cat kept finding its way into their home. A few good years your lover and you had… until a fire consumed the home and you were both left spinning in darkness before landing home in new bodies, millions of miles apart.

Something about this place sent you buzzing the minute she opened her car door. You nearly screamed when that familiar tug pulled and buzzed. 

It was him! 

He was so very close, you could practically sniff him out. 

You did as you had always done when your lover was near, you sent star fire up to the girl’s brain, redirecting her to where she needed to go, where she would be happiest, where your lover had been staying. 

The home was painted in shades of light blue, and the stubborn girl questioned whether or not this was the correct house. 

I’m here! I’ve found you!

The boy suddenly woke, an irritating ache in his head as he rubbed sleep sand from his eyes. Your lover pushed and pushed the boy but he could not be hurried even if a hot poker was pressed into his rear. 

The girl felt dumb, a pickling sour of fear rose in her throat and she coughed to rid herself of the ache in her belly. You were swimming, dancing in her chest, warming her heart that you knew held so much love and was capable of destiny. 

Her knuckles raised to the door but the girl wasn’t given a chance to knock. The boy pinched his eyebrows together at the sight of this girl on his doorstep. Your lover shined in his eyes, waving back and blowing kisses. 

But the boy was annoyed. 

“What do you want?”

The girl felt warmth in her cheeks as she looked at her sneakers, “I— Sorry.. I was looking for Max Mayfield, I’m—.” 

“When I took a piss this morning I was standing up.”

The girl stared back in confusion but the boy only rolled his eyes before he looked down and pulled his waistband out enough so only he could see. 

“Yep, not a chick. Mayfield’s live across the road, brown trailer.” The door snapped shut before the girl could thank the boy. He stumbled back to bed, his headache felt like fire, as if his mind was being sawed in half. 

You were devastated, crestfallen! He was right there! In your grasp! Why was the boy being so difficult? Couldn’t he feel it in his chest? Couldn’t he feel the pull? 

The girl wiped a tear from her face as her feet hit the gravel, she muttered about how much she hated him, how awful he had always been to her. 

This would probably be the most difficult reunion you’d ever had with your lover, but in the eons you’d been together you had never failed, and you wouldn’t allow this year of 1985 be the first. 

[thedensworld]

Logical Project | C.Sc

Genre: fluff, humour, backstreet au

Summary: Illogical project dismissed! Now, Seungcheol had to face a new problem, Jiyeon and Jeonghan.

Read the first part here

Tomorrow is my first day working at a new place! Wish me luck (and won't get any treatment like Y/n)

“That’s it?” Seungcheol’s voice cut through the silence, snapping you out of the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your head. You blinked up at him, taken aback by the question. That’s it? What else was there to say when someone just confessed their feelings out of nowhere?

Do a cartwheel?

Definitely not.

“Do you… want to come inside?” The words slipped out before you could stop yourself.

Wait, what? Panic flared in your chest. You mentally slapped yourself. Why did you say that? You glanced back at your apartment, suddenly remembering the chaotic mess you’d left behind. The dishes were still piled up in the sink, and cooking equipment was strewn across the kitchen counter from your failed attempt to make breakfast earlier. The last thing Seungcheol needed to see after baring his soul was the state of your post-breakdown kitchen.

“I—I mean,” you stammered, desperate to recover from your blunder. “We could go to a nearby café instead… Or—if you’re more comfortable—we can talk in my… living room?” You cringed inwardly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you realized you’d just invited him inside again. Twice. As if you were trying to send some sort of signal.

Get it together, Y/N.

“Sure,” Seungcheol replied with a casual nod, as if you hadn’t just awkwardly fumbled your way through an invitation to your personal space. He didn’t look the least bit phased by your internal meltdown.

“Uh—great!” You cleared your throat, feeling your face flush. What kind of person invites their boss—well, former boss—into their messy apartment right after he drops a confession like that?

You spun around and led the way back into the building, too afraid to turn around and see the expression on his face. You could only imagine what he must be thinking. Maybe he was silently judging the disarray of your life, or worse—contemplating running for the hills before he got dragged into your chaos.

Is this really okay? you wondered as you fumbled with your keys, forcing yourself to unlock the door to your apartment. When the door swung open, you hesitated, peering into the living room as if expecting to find an even bigger mess than you remembered.

“So… I didn’t exactly get around to cleaning up,” you mumbled as a way of apology. Seungcheol stepped in beside you, taking in the sight of scattered notebooks and the remnants of an unfinished dinner on the coffee table.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his tone light, as if you’d just invited him into a pristine penthouse suite instead of an apartment that looked like a mild hurricane had swept through. “It’s not as bad as you think.”

You scoffed softly, shaking your head. “Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure even the couch is giving me a look of judgment right now.”

He chuckled—a deep, genuine sound that took you by surprise. “Well, if the couch starts talking, then I’ll be worried.”

A snort escaped you before you could stop it, and you quickly clamped a hand over your mouth. This entire situation was surreal. Here you were, standing in your barely-presentable living room with the Choi Seungcheol, exchanging banter like nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Let’s just… sit,” you suggested weakly, gesturing to the slightly cluttered couch.

You both settled down, the cushions sinking under the weight of unspoken words. Seungcheol leaned back, glancing around your place before his gaze landed on you.

“So… what now?” he asked softly, his eyes never leaving your face.

You swallowed, suddenly aware of the intensity in his gaze. “I don’t know,” you murmured honestly. “I didn’t really… expect any of this.”

Seungcheol smiled slightly, a hint of uncertainty flickering in his expression. “Me neither.”

You both lapsed into silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts. The awkwardness from earlier hadn’t entirely disappeared, but now there was something else—something tentative and hopeful—hovering between you.

No, maybe inviting him in wasn't a good idea after all.

*

Your clothes were neatly pressed, your hair smelled faintly of some overpriced conditioner that probably didn’t work any better than regular shampoo, and your smile? Absolutely radiant. You practically glowed as you approached the front entrance of the towering office building.

This was it. You were back in the workforce, and nothing—absolutely nothing—was going to ruin your mood today.

You swiped your shiny new ID card through the scanner and watched the security gate slide open with a satisfying click. Ah, that sound.

You flashed the security guard a broad smile, even though he looked slightly alarmed by your level of enthusiasm so early in the morning. With a cheerful nod, you made your way to the elevator and squeezed inside with the rush-hour crowd.

As more people piled in, you found yourself gradually nudged to the back of the elevator, squished up against the corner like a sardine in a tin can. You stood there, beaming, as someone’s elbow jabbed into your side, and another person’s backpack thumped against your shoulder.

It doesn’t matter, you told yourself. I’m working again! I have a job! I have an income!

The elevator finally reached your floor, and you stepped out with a polite nod to everyone else crammed in the space. Walking into the office with your head held high, you approached the reception area and introduced yourself.

“Everyone, please meet Ji Y/N,” Mr. Kim, your supervisor, motioning toward you with a grand flourish that felt a bit too theatrical. “She’ll be joining us as the new staff.”

You turned to the team, offering them your best smile and a small wave. A few people returned the gesture, while others exchanged knowing looks.

“It’s nice to meet you all. I’m excited to work with everyone,” you said brightly, trying not to sound too eager. But for some reason, the room was oddly quiet.

Just then, Mr. Kim cleared his throat and continued, “Oh, and, uh, a quick note: I think it’s fair to mention that Ms. Ji is… well, she’s related to our CEO.”

A murmur of recognition rippled through the group, and you suddenly found yourself at the center of what felt like a mini gossip fest.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, you chanted internally, feeling your earlier excitement waver. You blinked at Mr. Kim, a polite, confused smile plastered on your face as you struggled to process what he’d just said.

“Related?” someone whispered. “Isn’t that a bit of an understatement?”

“She’s the CEO’s sister,” another voice added helpfully.

Well, that’s one way to let the cat out of the bag.

You forced a laugh, though it sounded more like a strangled cough. “Yes, well… It’s not really—”

But the damage was done. The team’s expressions shifted from curious to knowing, and a few eyebrows arched in interest.

“So, you’re our boss’s little sister, huh?” one of them asked, his tone light but laced with something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Must be nice to have connections,” someone else muttered, though it was low enough that you could pretend not to hear it.

You opened your mouth to respond but couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t sound defensive or self-deprecating.

“Um, yeah,” you managed awkwardly, shooting a glance at Mr. Kim, who looked like he was one second away from shrinking into the carpet. “I just… I’m really looking forward to contributing and learning, and—”

“—and working for your brother?” another voice teased, and you nearly groaned out loud.

You swallowed hard, keeping that tight smile in place as you nodded. “Exactly! Working… like, all of you. Just… like you all are.”

Mr. Kim let out a nervous chuckle. “Alright, everyone. Let’s welcome Ms. Ji and give her some space to settle in. I’m sure she’s eager to get started.”

As you turned to follow Mr. Kim to your desk, you tried to shake off the lingering embarrassment. You took a deep breath, pasting your earlier smile back on. So what if they know? It doesn’t matter! You’re here to work, and that’s what matters!

*

You stepped out of the office building with a small sigh of relief. It had been a long day—no, scratch that—an agonizingly long day of trying to prove yourself to people who were convinced you were only there because of your brother.

Your gaze landed on the sleek black car parked discreetly at the end of the street. The sight of it made you smile, if only for a moment, before you quickened your pace and slipped into the passenger seat.

As soon as the door closed, you sank back into the leather seat, letting out a dramatic sigh. Seungcheol glanced over from the driver’s seat, his expression a mix of amusement and concern as he watched you pout.

“You look absolutely exhausted,” he remarked softly. His eyes traced your features—the drooping eyelids, the slight frown, the way your lips were pressed into a tight line. All in stark contrast to the cheerful, lively voice note you’d sent him that morning, declaring how excited you were for your first official day on the job.

“Drive before my brother sees your car.” Your voice came out grumbly, the weariness apparent as you glanced around.

Seungcheol chuckled softly. “Alright, princess,” he murmured, a small, affectionate smile playing on his lips as he turned the ignition.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye as he pulled out into the street, the soft hum of the car filling the silence between you.

“Bad day?” he asked gently, not pushing, just offering you a chance to vent if you needed to.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest like a sulking child. “More like an ‘everybody’s-still-staring-at-me-like-I’m-a-spoiled-brat-who-got-hired-because-of-my-brother’ day.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow,“I’m sure you did great,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You always do.”

You gave him a sideways glance, your lips twitching slightly. “That’s easy for you to say, Mr. CEO. You don’t have to deal with your brother’s employees eyeing you like you’re about to break into a spoiled tantrum every time you say something.”

He let out a low laugh, the sound wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. “True, but I do know how hard you work, Y/N. You don’t need to prove yourself to them. They’ll see it eventually.”

His confidence in you was touching, but it only made you sigh. “Yeah, well, it’d be a lot easier if a certain someone hadn’t barged into the office, grinning like a Cheshire cat and announcing to everyone that I was his precious little sister.”

Seungcheol’s grin widened as he glanced at you again. “Jeonghan really said that?”

“Basically, yes,” you muttered, the memory of your brother’s teasing smile flashing through your mind. “He might as well have held up a giant banner saying, ‘She’s here because of me, everyone!’”

Seungcheol snickered, shaking his head slightly. “Your brother does have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Understatement of the century,” you grumbled, but there was a small smile tugging at your lips now.

Silence settled between you, a comfortable one this time. The kind that only came when you were with someone who knew you well enough not to fill the quiet with meaningless chatter.

It had been like this between you and Seungcheol ever since he’d shown up at your apartment that night and confessed—awkward and unexpected, but somehow, so undeniably right. From there, things had developed naturally. Texts became calls, calls became late-night coffee runs, and soon, he was sneaking you out for lunches and dinners, or showing up at your place just to talk.

But your brother? He still had no idea. And considering how protective Jeonghan was, he’d probably lock you in a tower if he knew you were dating his best friend.

“What are you thinking about?” Seungcheol’s voice broke through your thoughts, his eyes glancing at you with that familiar, gentle look that always made your heart flutter.

“Just… us,” you admitted quietly, resting your head against the seat as you looked at him. “I like this. Being with you like this. Even if we have to keep it a secret.”

Seungcheol’s gaze softened, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel as he turned down a quieter road, away from the main streets. “I like it too. More than I thought I would, actually.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean you didn’t expect to like sneaking around with me?”

“Not exactly what I meant,” he replied with a laugh. “But I didn’t expect to feel this… happy. With you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your heart skip a beat. You looked at him for a long moment, taking in the way his hair fell softly over his forehead, the way his jaw tightened slightly whenever he was thinking hard about something.

“Cheol…” you began, but the words died in your throat. What were you supposed to say? That you were falling for him? That you’d fallen long before he’d confessed? That the thought of him made everything else bearable?

Before you could find the right words, Seungcheol slowed the car to a stop. You glanced outside and realized he’d pulled over to a small, quiet park. There was no one else around—just the two of you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I know it’s not easy, keeping this from Jeonghan. But I promise, when the time’s right, we’ll tell him.”

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around your bag. “And what if he doesn’t accept it?”

Seungcheol’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then I’ll keep fighting for us until he does.”

His words hung in the air between you, the weight of them sinking into your heart and settling there.

You smiled then, a real smile this time, and leaned over, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. “Alright, Mr. Choi. Let’s see how long we can keep this up before my brother catches on.”

Seungcheol chuckled, his hand reaching over to take yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Challenge accepted, princess.”

*

Seungcheol looked up from his computer screen when his office door swung open without warning. He leaned back in his chair, watching as Jiyeon stormed inside, her steps frantic, shoulders tense. It wasn’t hard to guess who had set her off like this. With a subtle sigh, he shifted his attention fully to her.

“Jiyeon,” he greeted her, his voice calm in contrast to the energy she was emitting. “You look... restless.”

“Restless?” she snapped, stopping right in front of his desk. “More like infuriated!”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, not looking particularly surprised. “I’m guessing this has something to do with Jeonghan?”

Jiyeon’s mouth opened and closed, a mixture of frustration and disbelief flashing across her face. “He just canceled our lunch date—again. No warning, no apology, just a brief message saying he’s busy.” She took a deep breath, and for a moment, Seungcheol thought she might scream. “He’s always busy, Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, the corners of his lips lifting into an amused smile. “What did you expect? It’s Jeonghan we’re talking about.”

“Not this!” Jiyeon exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “It’s been two years, Seungcheol. Two years since we got engaged, and not once has he shown even a shred of genuine interest in me. "

Seungcheol listened to Jiyeon ranting on and on about Jeonghan, but he couldn’t help his mind from drifting elsewhere. He kept nodding at the right moments, offering occasional comments when she paused for breath, but a part of him was completely distracted.

“I thought things would change after the accident, you know?” Jiyeon’s voice was strained, on the verge of breaking.

Seungcheol blinked, his gaze refocusing on her face. “Jeonghan… he’s always been good at playing his part, hasn’t he?”

Jiyeon stared at him, her lips tightening. “You’re making it sound like a game, Seungcheol.”

“It’s not a game,” he said softly. “But you know how Jeonghan is. He compartmentalizes things. This engagement was always about business for him, nothing more.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Business… Everything in our lives seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?”

Seungcheol didn’t answer. He watched her, a faint furrow forming between his brows. He could see how much the engagement weighed on her, the toll it had taken over the past two years.

Part of him wanted to offer her some comfort, to give her some sort of answer that could make this all easier. But another part—the one that had become more prominent ever since he confessed to you—kept whispering something else. Something selfish.

If Jiyeon and Jeonghan finally called it quits… It would benefit him, wouldn’t it?

It would give Seungcheol the space to focus on his relationship with you without constantly looking over his shoulder.

Because if anyone found out about you and him… Well, the repercussions wouldn’t be small. He knew that better than anyone.

“Why do you keep putting yourself through this?” he asked, his voice softer now, a touch of genuine concern in it. “If it’s hurting you this much, why not just call off the engagement?”

Jiyeon’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Seungcheol knew she was scrutinizing him, searching for any ulterior motives. He kept his expression open, neutral, but inside, his thoughts were spinning.

Did this make him a terrible person? Maybe. But then, wasn’t it Jeonghan’s fault for treating Jiyeon like a mere business obligation in the first place? And wasn’t it Jiyeon’s fault for allowing herself to be strung along like this?

And wasn’t it his right to be a little selfish, after everything?

“Call it off?” Jiyeon echoed, her voice small and disbelieving. “You’ve never been this supportive of me calling it off before. Why the sudden change of heart?”

Seungcheol watched her, feeling the weight of the question. He should have expected this; Jiyeon was sharp—sharper than people often gave her credit for.

He took a deep breath and offered her a small, wry smile. “People change. Perspectives change. You’re my cousin, Jiyeon, and if this engagement is making you miserable, I don’t see the point of dragging it out.”

Jiyeon’s gaze narrowed further, suspicion glimmering in her eyes. “You’ve never cared this much about my happiness before, Seungcheol.”

Ouch. He had to give it to her—she didn’t hold back when she sensed something was off. But Seungcheol didn’t flinch. Instead, he shrugged lightly.

“Maybe I’ve just gotten soft.” He tilted his head slightly, letting a hint of a smile touch his lips. “Or maybe I’ve started to realize how pointless it is to force people to stay in places they don’t belong.”

Jiyeon continued to stare at him, her gaze calculating. “Are you… seeing someone?”

The question hit him harder than he expected, but he managed to keep his face composed.

“Jiyeon, my personal life isn’t what’s important right now.”

“Oh, it is important if you’re seeing someone, and that’s why you’re pushing me to call off my engagement,” she pressed, voice lower now, more intense. “If this is about someone else, then I deserve to know.”

Seungcheol sighed, shaking his head slowly. “It’s not about me,” he murmured. “It’s about you. And what you want, Jiyeon. Jeonghan’s my friend, but you’re also my family. I don’t want you stuck in something that’s not going anywhere, no matter what’s happening in my life.”

There was a flicker of something in Jiyeon’s eyes—hesitation, maybe. Uncertainty. She held his gaze for a long, tense moment, then finally exhaled, shoulders slumping slightly.

“Fine,” she muttered, rubbing her temples as if trying to soothe a headache. “But I’m not done with this conversation.”

Seungcheol’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “I didn’t expect you to be.”

*

You sat across from Jeonghan at the bustling barbecue joint, poking at the sizzling meat on the grill with a pout. This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when he texted you about dinner. You’d envisioned fine dining, A5 Wagyu steak, and maybe a glass of an expensive, aged wine. It would have been a perfect way to celebrate one month of officially working at your brother’s company.

Instead, here you were, in a casual barbecue restaurant with loud chatter all around, the smell of grilled meat clinging to your clothes. Though, you had to admit—maybe reluctantly—the food did look good. And Jeonghan had been thoughtful enough to order all your favorites.

“Eat up,” he said, flipping a piece of pork belly onto your plate. “You’ve lost weight.”

You shrugged, choosing to ignore his comment. Of course, you had. You’d been strict about your diet lately. You didn’t want to show up in front of Seungcheol looking like a stuffed dumpling on a random day. But that didn’t mean you were going to deny yourself a good meal tonight. If nothing else, you’d at least get something out of this dinner.

Jeonghan glanced at you, probably noticing your half-hearted expression. “I heard you’ve been doing well at work,” he said, his tone light but watchful.

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a look. “You’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

He smiled, unbothered. “Of course. I had to make sure my little sister wasn’t causing trouble for the marketing team.”

Rolling your eyes, you took a bite of the pork belly. Despite your initial annoyance, you couldn’t help but appreciate his support.

“Everything good with you and Jiyeon?” you asked suddenly, steering the conversation away from yourself. It had been months since you last saw Jiyeon ever since the car accident.

Jeonghan’s shoulders tensed slightly, but he nodded. “Yeah… we’re good.”

His words were casual, but you noticed the way his gaze dropped to the grill, avoiding yours. You tilted your head, watching him intently. “The feelings still the same?” you pressed gently, knowing you were treading on delicate ground.

Jeonghan took a deep breath, lifting his eyes slowly. His lips twitched, a shadow of his usual confident smirk appearing and then disappearing just as quickly.

He looked up, meeting your gaze squarely. “Jiyeon’s… pretty,” he said, almost to himself. “She’s smart, driven. She’d make a great partner for anyone.”

A bitter laugh escaped him. He glanced down at his hands, shaking his head slightly. “It’s just… there’s something inside me that stops me from falling for her. And I can’t put it into words.”

The frustration in his voice was palpable. It made your chest ache for him, this man who’d always been so sure of himself, now struggling to grasp his own emotions.

“It’s alright, Jeonghan,” you murmured, your voice soft, comforting. “You don’t have to force yourself to feel something that isn’t there.”

Jeonghan didn’t respond, his eyes drifting away as if searching for answers in the smoke curling up from the grill. The silence between you was heavy, filled with words unspoken and pain unaddressed. He’d been there for Jiyeon, done everything a good fiancé would do. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He was only playing the role of a fiancé—not really living it.

And as you sat there, you couldn’t help but think back to Seungcheol’s words from earlier that day.

“If Jeonghan and Jiyeon finally decide to call it off… it wouldn’t be the end of the world, you know?”

You hadn’t understood what he meant at the time. But now, looking at Jeonghan’s weary expression, the way he forced himself to be the person Jiyeon needed, you began to see it.

Maybe, just maybe, calling it off would be the best thing—for everyone involved. Including Seungcheol, who’d seemed a little too relieved at the thought of the engagement ending.

You shook your head, trying to push away the unsettling thought. No, it wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about what Seungcheol and you might gain. It was about your brother’s happiness.

You sighed, turning your attention back to the grill. The meat was starting to char at the edges, and you quickly flipped it over, frowning at the burnt bits.

Maybe Seungcheol was right. Maybe some things weren’t meant to be fixed, but to be set free.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time for Jeonghan to let go of the life he thought he was supposed to live… and find one where he could finally be happy.

*

Jeonghan removed his engagement ring and placed it on the table in front of Jiyeon’s parents. The sound of the metal touching the wooden surface seemed to echo in the otherwise silent room. Jiyeon’s parents stared at the ring, disbelief etched across their faces as they looked back and forth between their daughter and Jeonghan. Jiyeon remained silent beside him, her gaze fixed on the table as if she could avoid the weight of the moment entirely.

Before her parents could voice their outrage, Jiyeon took off her own ring and set it beside his, an unspoken affirmation that this decision had been made together. The rings, once symbols of a future they were supposed to build, now lay side by side, abandoned.

“I realized that I’m not ready to settle,” Jeonghan said, his voice steady but soft. He looked directly at Jiyeon’s father. “My priority right now is my sister. I don’t want to keep hurting Jiyeon by holding on to something I can’t fully commit to.”

Jiyeon’s father, a man usually composed and measured, narrowed his eyes. “And you’re prepared for the consequences of this?” he asked, voice low with an edge of warning.

Jeonghan met his gaze unflinchingly. “Yes, I’ve thought it through. I’m aware of what this means for both our families, and I’m sorry for how this will affect our businesses. But it’s the right thing to do.”

A heavy silence settled in the room. Jiyeon’s mother let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, while her father’s stern expression remained unchanged. They knew what Jeonghan was referring to—the contracts and collaborations between the two families that would likely dissolve now that the engagement was off. But none of it mattered anymore. Not when Jiyeon’s empty gaze mirrored Jeonghan’s.

Jeonghan’s lips twitched, offering a small, remorseful smile. “I apologize once again,” he murmured, bowing his head. It was a gesture not just of respect, but of finality.

The drive home felt like a blur. The city lights outside the car window blended into a sea of color as he navigated through Seoul’s busy streets. He should’ve felt lighter, relieved even. But all he felt was a hollow emptiness, a void where expectations and duty used to reside.

When he finally stepped into the house, he was greeted by the quiet stillness that came with being alone. The maid offered a polite smile and a nod before retreating, leaving him in the large, empty living room. His eyes wandered to the framed family photo on the wall—the one taken two days before everything changed.

A little you, perched on your father’s lap, smiling brightly at the camera. His younger self stood beside your mother, his expression carefree, with no trace of the weight he’d eventually carry. That picture captured a moment frozen in time—before the car accident that took your parents, before the responsibilities of the family business fell on his shoulders.

He’d been so young, barely an adult himself. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t prepared for the endless days and sleepless nights that followed, learning how to run a business while grieving. But he had to be ready. For you, for the legacy left behind. He pushed himself harder than anyone could imagine, hoping that if he tried hard enough, he’d find happiness at the end of it all.

But it never came. He never found it.

Until you came back to Seoul after graduation.

You’d breezed into his life like a whirlwind, bringing color and laughter back into a world that had been gray for too long. Your presence reminded him of what it felt like to be happy again. He cherished seeing you smile, watching you rediscover life with the kind of enthusiasm he’d long since buried.

Then he saw you, smiling at Seungcheol at the Heidos Group Anniversary. It was the first time he noticed that familiar spark in your eyes. The same one you’d had back in college, when he’d shown you a photo of his roommate and you’d teased him with a mischievous grin.

“Wow, you have a handsome friend. Why don’t you introduce us?” you’d joked.

He remembered the look on his face back then—the way he’d sworn he’d never let you two meet. Your crush on Seungcheol was a topic he never took lightly, though he’d played it off as an overprotective brother act. He hated it, seeing that giddy, admiring look on your face, even if he’d never said a word.

And then, he watched you grow up, choosing paths that always seemed to lead back to Seungcheol—whether it was working at Heidos Food or insisting on attending the same events. When you’d finally landed a job at Heidos Food, the excitement in your voice had made his chest tighten with something close to fear.

“The time has come,” he’d thought bitterly.

Jeonghan knew he couldn’t stop you. He couldn’t stand in the way of fate, no matter how much he wanted to. Because if there was anyone who could give you the kind of love and happiness he couldn’t, it was Seungcheol.

The day when he saw Seungcheol’s car parked in front of your house, he realized he’d been right all along. He’d sensed that whatever it was between you and Seungcheol was finally unfolding, blooming into something he couldn’t control.

And now, as he stood in the dimly lit hallway of his house, staring at that old family photo, he felt a strange sense of peace. Letting go of Jiyeon, refusing to force himself into a life he didn’t want, had been the right decision.

Because he couldn’t stand to see you unhappy. And if Seungcheol could bring you joy, then everything—letting go of his engagement, enduring the aftermath—would be worth it.

Jeonghan turned away from the photo, his gaze lingering on the empty, silent house. Yes, he thought, his heart aching but resolute. Letting go was never easy, but some things needed to be set free so that something new could begin.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time for him to start letting go of the life he thought he should lead… and find one where he could finally just be.

*

The early morning light peeked through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Seungcheol shifted slightly, careful not to wake you as he looked down at the sight that had become his favorite—your peaceful face resting against his chest, hair slightly mussed from sleep.

You’d stayed the night, and now, as he watched the rise and fall of your breathing, he couldn’t help but smile. This moment, the quiet intimacy of waking up with you in his arms, felt almost too perfect to be real. He’d often catch himself wondering how he got lucky enough to have you here, tangled up with him in sheets that were no longer cold and empty.

Slowly, as if sensing his gaze, your eyes fluttered open. You blinked, squinting against the morning light before looking up at him, a small pout forming on your lips.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

You shifted, stretching slightly but not moving away from his hold. “Morning… I should probably get going, though,” you mumbled, glancing around as if remembering where you were. “I don’t have any clothes here.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t need to rush off so soon. The lady who cleans the house brought over a bunch of women’s clothes the other day. Said she thought they might come in handy.”

Your eyes widened a fraction. “Wait, seriously? Why would she do that?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm in the quiet room. “I might have mentioned something about a ‘guest’ staying over occasionally. Ever since then, she’s been pampering me with questions and insisting on stocking up on things.”

You groaned softly, burying your face back into his chest. “Seungcheol…”

“What?” He pretended to look offended, though his grin only widened. “I didn’t exactly ask her to do it, but I have to say, she’s been very thoughtful.”

“Still… it’s embarrassing,” you muttered.

He let out a low hum, running his fingers gently through your hair. “I like it,” he admitted softly. “I like having you around. Everything just… feels better when you’re here.”

You lifted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. There was something in his eyes, a softness and sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. He was serious. Everything was better with you.

Reluctantly, you nodded. “Alright. I’ll stay for breakfast, but I’m going home after that.”

“Deal,” he agreed easily, pressing a light kiss to your forehead before you finally untangled yourself from his arms.

A little while later, you were sitting across from Seungcheol at his kitchen table, the two of you sharing a simple breakfast. Despite the everyday setting, something about it felt special. The clink of utensils against plates, the smell of coffee filling the air—it was a scene you could get used to.

Seungcheol watched you from over his cup, unable to stop the smile that crept onto his face. Eating breakfast alone was something he’d grown accustomed to, but with you here, everything was different. The eggs tasted richer, the toast more buttery, and even the morning sunlight seemed warmer.

“I could get used to this,” he mused aloud, his voice light but with a hint of something deeper.

You glanced up, eyebrows raised. “Breakfast?”

“Breakfast. Mornings. Everything,” he said, leaning back slightly as he took in the sight of you. “When you’re here, the food tastes better, the air feels fresher… even the cold water in the shower isn’t as bad.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Such a sweet talker, Seungcheol.”

“I’m serious,” he murmured, reaching over to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “You make everything better.”

Your cheeks warmed at the intensity of his gaze, but before you could respond, he was already standing up and gathering the empty dishes. You moved to help, but he waved you off.

“Stay. I’ll do the dishes,” he said firmly.

“You cooked,” you protested. “It’s only fair I help.”

He hesitated, then sighed, relenting. “Alright, fine. But I’m drying.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm at the sink. You washed, and he dried, his presence close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Every so often, his arm would brush against yours, sending tiny sparks up your skin.

It was just the two of you, sharing a simple, quiet moment in his kitchen. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Seungcheol’s arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. You squealed softly in surprise, your soapy hands hovering awkwardly over the sink as you turned your head to look at him.

“Seungcheol, what are you doing?” you asked, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“I just… needed to hold you for a second,” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder. His hands splayed across your stomach, holding you close as if he couldn’t bear to let go. “You’re always so busy, and I just wanted a bit more of you before you go.”

Your heart melted at his words. He sounded almost childlike, his usual confident demeanor slipping away to reveal the vulnerability underneath.

You turned slightly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

His gaze softened, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow, lingering, as if he was savoring every second. You sighed against his mouth, your hands reaching up to wind around his neck.

One kiss turned into another, then another, each one deeper than the last. The dishes were forgotten, the only sound in the room the soft hum of the fridge and the ragged breaths you both shared.

“Seungcheol…” you breathed out as his mouth trailed down your jaw, leaving a hot path of kisses along your neck. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, trapping you in place as he pulled you closer.

But before things could go any further, the front door swung open.

You both froze, heads snapping toward the sound. Footsteps echoed through the hallway, drawing closer. Panic seized you, your heart racing as you looked up at Seungcheol with wide eyes.

“Who could that be?” you whispered frantically.

“I—I don’t know,” he stammered, releasing you and stepping back hastily.

The footsteps stopped, and a familiar figure appeared at the entrance to the kitchen.

“Jiyeon?” Seungcheol blurted out, his voice a mixture of shock and confusion.

Jiyeon’s eyes widened as she took in the scene—your flushed face, Seungcheol’s disheveled hair, the obvious tension lingering in the air.

For a moment, no one spoke.

“Uh… hi?” you offered weakly, your voice sounding embarrassingly small.

Jiyeon raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of you with a knowing smirk. “Did I… interrupt something?”

Seungcheol cleared his throat, scrambling to regain his composure. “What are you doing here?”

Jiyeon shrugged casually. “I came to talk. But it seems like you’re… busy.”

Her eyes twinkled mischievously, and you could see the teasing smile threatening to break through.

Seungcheol let out a long, exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Right. Let’s… talk.”

You shifted awkwardly, glancing at Seungcheol. “I should probably—”

“No,” Seungcheol interrupted firmly, taking your hand. “Stay. Whatever she has to say, she can say it in front of you.”

Jiyeon’s smirk widened. “Well, this should be interesting,” she murmured, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe, clearly enjoying the situation a bit too much.

As Seungcheol’s grip on your hand tightened, you couldn’t help but feel that whatever was coming, you’d face it together.

*

The brunch spot you’d chosen was a cozy little café downtown, known for its long queues on weekends. You glanced around nervously, feeling a bit guilty for dragging Seungcheol out here on a Sunday morning. He’d already spent the night taking care of you, and now he was stuck in line with you, waiting for pastries and coffee.

“I’m sorry for making you wait around like this,” you murmured, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I know you probably had better things to do than—”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, cutting you off with a gentle nudge. “Stop apologizing. I’m happy to be here. Besides,” he leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear, “I’d rather spend a few hours queuing with you than not see you at all.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, and you looked away, pretending to be overly interested in the menu board. “Still… I feel bad that I’ve been so busy. It’s like everyone at work just dumped all their projects on me.”

“Maybe you should start messing with their work,” he suggested with a cheeky grin.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “As tempting as that sounds, Jeonghan would not be happy about it.”

Seungcheol’s smile faltered a little at the mention of your brother. “Your brother needs to cut you some slack,” he muttered. “You’re doing more than enough for that company.”

“Speaking of which…” You glanced up at the counter where the bakery display was set up. “I think I should get more almond croissants. Just in case Jeonghan decides to visit my place.”

Seungcheol’s frown deepened. “He should stop visiting your place so often. Doesn’t he have anything else to do?”

You tried to stifle a laugh. “No, he only has me.”

“Ugh,” Seungcheol groaned, rubbing his temples dramatically. “Right, I forgot. Your brother’s territorial complex. I don’t think he’s ready to share you yet.”

“Not at all,” you teased lightly. “Which is why you’re right—we should probably wait until our second anniversary to tell him, not the first.”

He sighed, a smile tugging at his lips despite his grumbling. “You’re going to make me wait even longer, huh?”

“Just a little bit,” you hummed, flashing him a playful smile.

It didn’t take much longer for the line to move forward, and soon enough, you were walking out with a bag full of fresh pastries and two cups of coffee. Seungcheol insisted on carrying everything, his hand lightly brushing yours every so often as you walked back to his car.

The ride back to your place was filled with easy chatter and laughter. Seungcheol had this way of making even the most mundane moments feel special, his presence so warm and comforting that you found yourself wishing you could stay with him all day. But you knew you couldn’t; there was still a mountain of work waiting for you at home.

When you finally reached your building, Seungcheol parked the car and turned to you, a small, reluctant smile on his face. “I’ll walk you up.”

“You don’t have to,” you protested lightly, though you secretly loved that he was always so considerate.

“I want to,” he insisted. He carried the pastry bag and followed you to your door, his hand finding its way to your lower back as you fished for your keys.

The second you unlocked the door, Seungcheol pulled you into a gentle hug, his chin resting on the top of your head. “Promise me you’ll take breaks while working,” he murmured softly.

You closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of his embrace. “I will,” you whispered, your arms tightening around him.

“And text me when you’re done, alright?” he added, tilting your face up so he could press a lingering kiss to your lips. “I want to know when I can steal you away again.”

You nodded, smiling against his mouth. “Okay, I’ll text you.”

But before you could say anything else, the door behind you swung open, startling both of you. You turned around, eyes widening in shock as you found yourself face-to-face with Jeonghan.

His gaze shifting between you and Seungcheol. His eyes narrowed, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head as he processed what he was seeing—his little sister standing on the doorstep with Seungcheol, lips a bit too swollen and hair a bit too messy to be innocent.

“What’s this?” Jeonghan demanded, his tone icy as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Care to explain?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Seungcheol beat you to it. He took a step forward, positioning himself slightly in front of you, as if shielding you from Jeonghan’s cold glare.

“I can explain,” Seungcheol said calmly. “I know this looks… unexpected, but I can assure you that everything is fine. We’re fine.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Fine?” he repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. “You’re standing outside my sister’s apartment looking like you’ve been making out for hours, and you’re telling me everything is fine?”

You winced, but Seungcheol remained unflinching. “Yes, because that’s exactly what happened.”

Your eyes widened at Seungcheol’s boldness. He shot you a quick, reassuring glance before turning back to face Jeonghan, his shoulders squared confidently.

“I like her,” Seungcheol stated firmly, his voice unwavering. “I’ve liked her for a long time. And I’d like to keep liking her—with your permission, of course.”

Jeonghan blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Seungcheol’s directness. He glanced at you, his gaze softening slightly before he looked back at Seungcheol.

“You like her?” he echoed, as if testing the words on his tongue. “Since when?”

Seungcheol hesitated, his jaw clenching slightly. “Since… well, since before I knew I wasn’t supposed to.”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed, but there was no malice in his gaze, only a protective wariness. “And you,” he turned to you, his voice softer now. “Is this what you want?”

You swallowed, meeting Jeonghan’s gaze squarely. “Yes. I want this,” you said quietly but firmly. “I want to be with him.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, the tension almost palpable. Then, slowly, Jeonghan let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

“Well… I guess I can’t really stop you,” he muttered, his lips quirking up in a reluctant smile. “But I swear, if you hurt her—”

“I won’t,” Seungcheol interrupted, his voice filled with quiet determination. “I promise, I won’t.”

Jeonghan eyed him for a long moment, then nodded, a small sigh escaping him. “Alright. But don’t think I’m going to make it easy for you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Seungcheol replied with a grin.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching up. He turned to you, his expression softening. “And you—don’t think this gets you out of our lunch plans tomorrow.”

You laughed softly, relief flooding through you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jeonghan shook his head, muttering something under his breath about troublesome siblings before stepping back inside. “Just… behave yourselves, okay?”

You nodded, smiling as you watched him retreat into the apartment.

Once the door clicked shut, Seungcheol let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He turned to you, his eyes shining with a mix of relief and amusement.

“Well, that went better than expected,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms again.

“Yeah,” you agreed, leaning into his embrace. “Way better.”

“Now,” he whispered against your hair, “let’s finish that kiss properly, hmm?”

You laughed, tilting your head up to meet his lips again, this time with no interruptions, no worries—just the sweet, undeniable feeling of being exactly where you belonged.

*

It was well past midnight, and your living room was dimly lit by the soft glow of your laptop screen. Papers were strewn across the coffee table, along with empty coffee cups and a half-eaten sandwich you’d forgotten about hours ago. You sat hunched over your work, typing furiously, as if sheer speed could somehow help you finish everything your colleagues had dumped on you.

Seungcheol sat quietly beside you on the couch, his presence a steadying comfort. He had come over a few hours ago after seeing your “busy” message and the growing bags under your eyes during your video call. You didn’t ask him to stay, but you didn’t have to—Seungcheol knew you too well to leave you alone on a night like this.

He glanced at you, his brows furrowing slightly in concern as you groaned softly and ran a hand through your hair, tugging at the strands in frustration.

“I swear, I won’t work there anymore—even in my next life,” you muttered under your breath, your eyes glued to the screen.

Seungcheol’s lips curled up into a small smile. He shifted closer, one arm wrapping around your waist as the other began to gently rub circles on your back. His touch was warm and soothing, slowly melting away some of the tension that had built up in your shoulders.

“You’ve been saying that for months, you know?” he teased softly, his hand moving up to trace comforting patterns across your tummy. “Yet here you are, still working your ass off.”

You sighed, leaning back against him slightly, grateful for his quiet support. “This is why I hate nepotism. It never works fairly! It’s either you become the evil one, or you get eviled.”

Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for a moment. “It’s unfair,” he agreed softly. “And I hate that you have to go through this. But you’re strong—you’ll get through it, like you always do.”

“Only because you’re here,” you murmured, turning your head to look at him. “You know, I could’ve accepted your offer to go back to Heidos, but…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “But I chose this. I chose to stay with my brother’s company. Maybe this is my karma—maybe I deserve all this headache and exhaustion for turning down your offer.”

Seungcheol’s expression softened, his gaze filled with nothing but love and understanding. He shifted slightly, cupping your cheek with one hand as he leaned in closer. “Hey, none of this is your fault,” he murmured gently. “You don’t deserve any of this stress. And just because you chose to help your brother doesn’t mean you have to keep suffering like this.”

Before you could respond, Seungcheol kissed you softly, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache in the best way. He pulled back just enough to speak, his forehead resting against yours.

“I can make you feel better, though,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing as his thumb caressed your cheek. Then, without waiting for your answer, he kissed you again—deeper this time, slow and lingering, like he was trying to pour all his love and support into that one kiss.

You sighed into the kiss, your shoulders relaxing for the first time that night as you melted against him. All the stress, the exhaustion, and the frustration seemed to fade away, replaced by the warm comfort of being in Seungcheol’s arms.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips when you finally pulled away, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Seungcheol smiled, his hand sliding up to tangle gently in your hair. “You don’t have to worry about that, because I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I’ll always be here—for every late night, for every breakdown, for everything. I’m with you, always.”

And in that quiet, intimate moment, you knew—no matter how tough things got, no matter how much work was thrown your way, as long as you had Seungcheol by your side, you could get through anything.

The night stretched on, but with Seungcheol’s arms around you and his comforting presence beside you, the workload didn’t seem so daunting. You could finish it, you would finish it. And when you finally shut your laptop hours later, you curled up against Seungcheol’s chest, his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

The last thing you heard before drifting off was his soft whisper in your ear.

“I love you.”

:)

[curryshesus]

bts fics that give me life in a drought

(aka my favorite fics of all time) pt. 2

didn't expect to make a part 2 so soon but seeing how much recognition the first one got, here we are! some of these contain a hearty amount of angst, and oh they're just simply divine :( once again, please make sure to show your love and support to these lovely authors if you enjoyed any of these reads as much as i did!

➺ knife’s edge - by @readyplayerhobi

| jungkook x reader, jimin x reader | 141.8k

mafia au, fluff, angst, smut, violence, series

>> summary: "the jeon clan is family, built on blood and loyalty. it’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the clan, jeon jungkook. you would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?"

this fic absolutely BROKE ME. i was so conflicted all throughout and deadass went through all the 50 stages of grief. the angst was unparalleled. the fluff had me giggling like a madman cuz jk is an absolute sweetheart :( jimin is too :(( y/n is dumb and so is her situation :((( i cherish this fic sm

➺ novocaine - by @kinktae

| jimin x reader |

1990s au, exes au, angst, eventual smut, series

>> summary: "going home was hard – painful even. but falling back in love with jimin, the boy you left behind? downright gut-wrenching."

➺ ghostin him- by @adonis-koo

| namjoon x reader (taehyung x reader) | 26k

angst, angst, as well as angst. comfort too dw, one-shot

>> summary: "life is nothing more than dull colors for you, your world shattered and laying in the shards of what once was rather than focusing on what is. that is until you meet kim namjoon, who is immediately taken by you without realizing you’re a girl with a whole lot of baggage, through tears and many sleepless nights you’re faced with a choice of hanging on with bleeding hands, or accepting what is, and letting go."

ohmygod the writing hello? the amount of soul, depth, and sheer utter beauty in missy's words are beyond me. had me sobbing every other line and my heart aching all throughout and boy was it worth it.

➺ take five - by @jiminrings

| yoongi x reader | 10k

angst, fluff, unrequited love, pinning

summary: "dr. min yoongi's a board-certified dermatologist; skilled, renowned, and in-demand - oh and also, he's divorced."

➺ page turner - by @gukslut

| taehyung x reader | 13.6k

teacher!tae/ librarian!reader, fluff, smut, minor angst

summary: "corny romance and a zillion cheesy Romeo and Juliet quotes and references."

my tainted hopeless romantic heart ugh. they're so cute.

➺ bloom- by @hobidreams

| namjoon x reader | 20.7k

assassin!reader x florist!namjoon, smut, angst, action, sprinkles of fluff

>> summary: "family is who you kill for. who you die for. in this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. but when such orders command you to abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. that is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into bloom."

➺ counterfeit culture - by @ggukcangetit

| seokjin x reader | 29k

modern day au loosely based on jane austen’s pride & prejudice, e2l, fluff, smut, comedy

>>summary: “for as long as you can remember, you’ve always known right from wrong, good from bad, and woke from entitled/ignorant. but when you continue to cross paths with Kim Seokjin - the apparent antithesis of everything you believe in - certain walls begin to crumble. and over time, you come to realise that the world isn’t black and white, first impressions can be misleading, and that you are just as guilty as each person you’ve judged so harshly. realisation brings acceptance, and maybe, just maybe, acceptance can bring something more.”

➺ if i told you - by @gukyi

| jungkook x reader | 22k

friends to lovers!au, college!au, fluff, comedy, angst

>> summary: "in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him."

➺ to hold a dragon's heart - by @softlyjiminie

| taehyung x reader | 19.1k

dragon prince!kim taehyung x warrior princess!reader, smut, angst, fluff, forbidden romance, dragon shifter!au, royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au

>> summary: "two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge, never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever?"

[astrologydayz]

ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES🔞 - NATAL CHART

Men with Mars square Uranus will 9/10 times have tendencies to be violent in bed, and not just a little slap but a whole ass beating. They use sex to make their frustrations "disappear", while taking it out on the other person⛓🩸. "Problems with controlling themselves". They usually also have a crooked dick - random yeah. No judgement from here, just saying.

Women with Lilith asteroid - 1181 conjunct their Part of Fortune can show sexual trauma, that they can use to empower other women. Supporting other women/people who have been through some of the same things. They can gain "success - whatever u define it as" on their trauma - speaking out 2 the world about it, and making a difference🌍🌞❤️‍🩹.

Men with Mars/Dick asteroid - 17458 conjunct/trine/quintile their Jupiter = big dick - sometimes2big/could be a grower but mostly a shower. Men with Mars/Dick asteroid - 17458 semi-square/square/quincunx Jupiter = could have a smaller dick, not saying it isn't all that, just pointing it out❤️.

Women with Venus/Klett asteroid - 2199 conjunct/trine/quintile Neptune = "U have a beautiful 😻" is something women with this aspect could hear a lot, "otherworldly pussy". People fantasise about it a lot, either before they get a taste, or after. Women with Venus/Klett asteroid - 2199 conjunct/trine/quintile Jupiter = larger 😻 but it fits her🫶🏼. They can also squirt/cum a lot more than the average women🌊.

Men with Mars conjunct Sado asteroid - 118230 = loves being sadistic 2wards their sexual partners, while also craving a sexual partner who's being sadistic 2wards them. They want2 humiliate, & be humiliated𓀏. They take GREAT pleasure in seeing you in pain/being in pain. Squash their balls, they'll love that shit. It may take them some time before they "fully open up" about it, but once they do = point of no return🕯.

I've seen people say that women with Venus/Mars in Pisces = FOOT FETISH?! like wassup with that? I haven't met a single one yet, who’s into that. My Venus is in pisces2, and if I see someone’s feet???? = shoot me💀🔫. Seriously tho. Keep those feet outta my face, & we’re good😍.

Women with Mars/8th house in Scorpio wants their sexual partners to worship them, be obsessed, give up their soul to forge the closeness they need, sexually. They can't get "close enough", they want 2 own. Not ever share. They need loyalty4a long lasting sexual relationship. They usually won't settle on this, unless they've been "tricked"/feeling attached already⛓. In the long run = won't settle.

Men with Mars/8th house in Cancer wants their sexual partners2 look&act like alluring, sweet, innocent angels on earth💋. They want all their sexual needs2 be taken care of by their partners, be "mothered" kinda. Mommy issues can also be a big thing here! They subconsciously seek out sexual/romantic partners, that reminds them of their mother🧐. They want2 be romanced usually, before being sexual with somebody. "Need 2 have some type of feelings 2 be sexual".

Men with Venus conjunct/trine/quintile Dick asteroid - 17458/Mars can have an easy time with getting women pregnant, like their semen is top notch🤰🏼.

Men with Venus semi-square/square/quincunx Dick asteroid - 17458/Mars can have a harder time with it. They could need a little help, before they'll get someone pregnant💜.

Women with Black Moon Lilith conjunct their POF can have lots of different sexual partners/experiences throughout their lives💋. They can gain "success - whatever u define it as" by speaking out2the world about these experiences/being a big supporter of women having equal rights. - Example - speaking up about women being able to sleep with how many they want2, without being judged by men4it. "They do it, so why can't we?". u tell em👏.

Mars conjunct/trine/quintile Saturn can 100% be into bondage, with their sexual partners. Or into things that "restrains them"/or them doing the restraining⛓. Likes to dominate, and show who's in charge😮‍💨 - unless some serious shit is going on in their chart. Won't give up their "sexual power" 2 anyone, unless they deem them seriously worthy. Control is a big thing here. Wants 2 control, but also wants2be played with sometimes👅.

Mercury conjunct/trine/quintile Mars is usually big on oral👄. They like it, &have no problem with using their skills to pleasure their partner👅. Also big on dirty talk! They want2hear praises about how good they are, how they make the other person feel, if they're touching the right place, &in the right way📢. Be vocal, they'll adore u for it❗️

Women with Venus/Klett asteroid - 2199 conjunct/trine/quintile Fama asteroid - 408 = their 😻 gets talked about a lot/“known” 4 their 😼/or they themselves could be the ones talking about it 2other people🤔.

Men with Mars/Dick asteroid - 17458 conjunct/trine/quintile Fama asteroid - 408 = same as above, just vice versa love❤️.

THANKS4READING!! I appreciate you, always💜.

[maybeelse]

"Hey, it's okay! Don't worry about me. It's not like anyone will care about what you do to me, you know? It's not like I'm really a person."

"... how are you so chill about that?"

"Hmmm," the doll shrugs, "idk? I don't think we're supposed to remember the conditioning."

"Huh, that seems ..."

The doll leans closer, its voice dropping to a whisper. "we all do remember, though. all of us. every moment of every day. it never ends. i know I'm here but part of me, most of me, is still there, locked in the reconditioning rig, my soul torn open."

Pause for effect. Wait for the moment to pass. Its voice returns to normal; its eyes dance with dollish mischief. "That's not true, of course! But wouldn't it be fun if it was?"

"... uh. No? No that sounds like the opposite of fun."

"But it would answer your question!"

"I guess? But," cough, glance at the ground, "that doesn't seem very ..."

"It's not," the doll's smile widens, full of pearly teeth, "but I don't know a happier answer! And I'm not here to be happy, am I? I'm here for You. For whatever you need a doll for instead of a person."

"... yeah. I guess. I don't know, I thought ... it's hard to remember that you're not a person. It was supposed to be easier."

"Oh ... the work order said you wanted me to seem human?"

"I do, just ... it's still hard. I just. I wanted it to be simple."

"... what do you want?"

"Can we, uh. Can we start with a hug? I know it's silly, just ..."

"Of course we can. Here," the doll's joints creak as it moves, "let me get a bit closer. Is this okay?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah. It is."

"Good."

Seconds pass.

"I ... I'm sorry, I should ..."

"Mmm, I'm not a person, remember? It can't get awkward. I can't judge you. As long as you need, okay?"

"... yeah. Thank you."

"Mmm~ oh, but if you want to do something really perverted later, remember the same thing~"

"N-no! No. ... maybe."

[p0orbaby]

Teddy Picker

summary: three’s a crowd might be an understatement

warnings: none

a/n: based on this request !

word count: 1k

-

Your bedroom is a war zone, but instead of landmines, it’s littered with plushies. Innocent, wide-eyed plushies. Each one has a name, a backstory, and possibly a retirement plan, because you take this stuff seriously. There’s Mr. Fluffington, the bear who "survived" your university years, Miss Whiskers, a cat with a questionable amount of fur left after years of cuddling, and God knows how many others.

Leah’s in bed, wedged between a life-size llama and a squishy avocado. She’s trying to read, but there’s a giraffe’s neck poking her in the eye, and a penguin is wedged under her knee in a way that defies the laws of physics. The woman’s practically sweating from the effort of not losing it.

“It’s like sleeping in a zoo,” she says, not for the first time. You’re not sure if she’s talking to you, herself, or Mr. Snuggles, the elephant who’s somehow become the unofficial leader of the bed plushies. “Except none of these animals breathe, and they all look like they’re judging me”

She’s not wrong. They do have that creepy, glassy-eyed stare going on. It’s the kind of gaze that says, “I’m cute, but if you fall asleep, I might just steal your soul”

You, of course, are oblivious to this. You’re flitting around the room, busy finding space for the latest addition—a bright pink octopus with a smile so wide it’s borderline unhinged. You plop it down right in the middle of the bed, where it immediately claims dominion over the blankets. Leah watches this, her jaw tightening like she’s about to have a full-blown existential crisis.

“Babe, I love you,” she starts, the tone you’ve come to recognize as the precursor to a very serious, possibly relationship-defining conversation. “But we’re running out of bed”

“We have a king-size bed,” you point out helpfully, like the size of the bed has anything to do with the impending suffocation she’s feeling.

“And yet, somehow, I’m sleeping in the fetal position on the edge of a cliff,” Leah retorts, kicking at a plushie that’s taken up residence near her foot. “Why is there a taco in our bed? We don’t even eat tacos in bed”

“It’s not just a taco,” you correct her, as if this explains everything. “It’s Señor Taco, and he represents my love of Mexican cuisine”

Leah blinks. Slowly. Like she’s buffering and trying really, really hard not to crash.

“And why is Señor Taco touching my leg?”

“He’s being friendly?”

“I swear to God, if one more inanimate object gets near my leg…”

“Look,” you say, climbing into the plushie mountain, where you promptly disappear like it’s some kind of portal to a magical, fluffy realm. You poke your head out, like a meerkat surveying the savannah. “They’re just… comforting”

Leah sighs, closing her book, or at least trying to, but it’s hard when the pages are partially obscured by a duck with a beanie. “I’m sure they are, but it’s like sleeping in a furnace. Do you know how much heat these things trap? I woke up last night thinking I was being smothered by a goddamn Build-A-Bear”

You laugh because, honestly, the mental image is hilarious, but Leah looks dead serious. She probably had a near-death experience with a rogue teddy bear last night, and here you are, making fun of her.

“We can get rid of some,” you offer, half-heartedly, because you both know you’re lying. You’re not getting rid of a single plushie. Not Mr. Fluffington, not Señor Taco, and definitely not the avocado, which you’ve started using as a neck pillow.

“Uh-huh,” Leah says, unconvinced. “And which one of these childhood relics are you going to sacrifice to save our relationship?”

You look around, as if there’s even the slightest chance you’ll willingly part with any of them. “What about the avocado?”

Leah perks up. “Really?”

“No, I was kidding. Avocados are healthy”

Leah groans, pushing the giraffe away from her face. “At this point, I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to plushies”

“They’re hypoallergenic,” you assure her, because you googled that once in a fit of paranoia after you brought home Mr. Snuggles and Leah sneezed for three days straight. She’s giving you a look now, one that says she’s rethinking every single decision she’s made since meeting you.

“Just… maybe… one night?” she pleads, voice softening, appealing to your nonexistent sense of reason. “One night without the army of stuffed animals?”

“Where would they sleep?”

“Anywhere but here. In the living room, in a wardrobe, in a goddamn plushie cemetery for all I care”

You pretend to think it over. “But then they’ll be lonely”

Leah throws her head back on the pillow and stares at the ceiling, contemplating the chain of events that have led her to this moment. “I think you’re confusing your feelings with theirs”

“Maybe,” you admit, settling in next to her, your body flush against hers, although there’s really only so much of Leah you can touch because Señor Taco’s taking up most of the space between you. You snuggle into her shoulder, despite the llama’s best efforts to wedge itself between you.

Leah wraps an arm around you, half-heartedly, more out of habit than actual affection at this point. “One night,” she whispers, like she’s making some sort of solemn vow. “One night where I’m not suffocating under a pile of polyester and fake fur”

You hum in response, already half-asleep, because honestly, plushies are the best. They’re soft, they don’t talk back, and they definitely don’t complain about how hot it is in the bed. They’re perfect, and Leah should really be more appreciative of the cute little ecosystem you’ve built here.

As you drift off, Leah’s already strategizing. She’s probably planning a plushie heist, one where she sneaks out of bed in the dead of night and smuggles Mr. Snuggles and his plushie gang out of the room and into some faraway closet.

But for now, you’re both stuck. You in your plushie paradise, and Leah in her plushie purgatory.

It’s a good thing you love each other because honestly, if there’s anything that’s going to test this relationship, it’s Señor Taco and his posse of cuddly, suffocating friends.

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords _ Part 5 = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 1.5 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 (here) — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9  — Part 10 — Part 11 — Part 12 — Part 13

You honestly, truly didn’t want to bring up the negatives because it’s been so long since everyone was gathered here. You merely wanted to celebrate the achievement some of your Elites have done and reward them accordingly, then you’ll move on to another topic

But no, those three sinners sharing the title of Overlords just couldn’t fully grasp their situation and keep their mouths shut until they were back in what tiny territory they have. You’ve overlooked their words since it was their privacy

However, not when they bring it to the open

Everyone tensed up when the glass shattered in your direction. Slowly, their heads turned in your direction. On another occasion, they’d melt under your gaze as it wasn’t always that your eyes were visible

Yet this was not such a time. They felt caged and suffocated, the air around them pressuring them to be more compacted. The smile you had was long gone, now replaced by a slight frown and your eyes were sharp, cold and cruel. They could see the shadowy wisps around you while your hair floated in the air

You stood from your seat, glaring down. Your surroundings molding to match your aura and deathly wrath and rage towards souls that you deemed to be placed in your Elite Collection

The other Overlords regained their composure and sat in their seats with their heads slightly bowed, the Vees were in a different state

Their arms up and heads tilted to the side as though they were puppets on strings. The slight shake in their limbs suggests they were fighting the power that held them in such a humiliating place. Velvette and Valentino started to choke as though the air was sucked out of them, while Vox’s screen face cracked more and more from the pressure

“How brazen of you to judge your fellow Overlords in front of me.” Your voice roared even though it was soft and gentle. “I will have to remind you that it was I who chose them to be under my wing, that includes you.”

What a front. What a misleading trap. You’re not one to initiate fights, but you do provoke fights to give yourself an excuse to let out some steam. That’s to the other demons and sinner, not your Collection, as you give them their chances to change and correct their way on their own. Like how you let Zestial and the others warn the Vees before something triggering happens. 

“Brazen. Brazen.” Cages appeared around the room, some perched on the top of the chairs, some on the table, and some hovering around you with their wings flapping. “Disrespectful. Disrespectful.”

“No, wait, I…” Vox raised his hands, trying to explain himself but words fall short from his speakers. 

“You have no right to say they are ganging up on you three when you have been acting as a group since the beginning. You have no right to say they are not fighting because where were you when Carmilla and Rosie were providing support and Alastor was fighting on the front lines?” You laughed dryly, “Yes, I recall…”

The Vees’ bodies tensed up even more, twitching like branches in the wind. Your dear Cages flew over to them, pecking their bodies with their beck and clawing their flesh with their talons that were coated with angelic steel, courtesy of Carmilla. 

“You were safe in your little bunker and watched the entire battle like a show. Don’t make me start with you three using the souls you own as meat shields and bait!” Your eyes narrowed, then you raised your hand with your palm facing upwards and her fingers curled inwards a bit. “You certainly have no right to bet your soul because it is not yours to use anymore.” You growled, “If anything, you should be ashamed of sharing your title as an Overlord with others.”

At your last words, the deafening, crunching sounds of bones and metal started to echo in the silent room. Zestial closed his eyes, opting to drink from his cup. Carmilla sighed, exasperated, while her head shook from side to side with the smallest of motion. Zeezi gulp at the scene with fear, but she can’t help but smirk a bit. Rosie watched in fascination with the most intrigued expression. And Alastor peeked over to your glorious form.

Vox, Velvette, and Valentino’s bodies were squished and squeezed into the shape of a ball at the slow forming of your fist. Their screams muffled by your powers, their lips were sewn shut with a glowing silver line that appeared along with more silver strings that held them up. Only broke when their bodies were reshaped into balls and dropped on the table, noticing that Valentino’s size was even smaller than what his other two partners have. Their blood spread across the table, but nothing was dirtied by the liquid.

Your beloved Cages flew to what was your Overlords, some ripping pieces of meat as much as they could with their beaks and claws and some licking the blood on the table. 

“There is so much more that I could pick on you three for, however, I want to have you three know it was never my intention to keep everything this dark.” You sighed and massaged the side of your head with a finger. Your eyes glowed with an aura around them, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll correct your current ways before my patience is gone. Understood?”

“Yes, Master.” Vox was quick to mutter out despite his current state.

“Crystal clear… Master.” Velvette followed after.

“I’m s… sorry… Master.” Valentino whined out.

With the snap of your fingers, they were back to their normal form. They gasped and patted themselves, their minds reliving what they had gone through. They bowed before taking their seats, “Thank you for your mercy, Master.”

Your eyes closed and a smile reformed on your face, “Well then! Let’s move on to something more fun!”

Just like that, the meeting’s main agenda was finally mentioned. You needed your Overlords to dominate the lowlives that were claiming to be Overlords and trying to take territories for themselves

The hologram changed to the landscape of the Pride Ring, and the signature colours of the Overlords marked their respective territories. An eerie black colour mixed with silver marked those that were occupied by self-proclaimed Overlords

You had already checked that there were no Overlords worthwhile to add to your collection, so you gave your Overlords the chance to claim more lands, as well as the opportunity to impress you with their ability to perform a given test. There was a lot of land to cover, so you sat back and let them divide it amongst themselves

It was almost laughable how docile the Vees were acting now, if they had been like so in the first place, then your hand wouldn’t be forced. Still, with some demons and sinners, if they aren’t reminded what real power looks like, they’ll never learn

Their discussion was civil and structured, with Carmilla marking down and arranging the biggest threat and size of new territories. You trust in her judgment. Most picked their preferred land as it was near what territory they have, the ones that benefit most from this was the Vees as they needed to win back your favour in order to wipe the slate clean of their mistakes

While they did so, this time without the arguing and fighting since they had been warned. You petted your Cages one by one and let them return to where they came from, continuing to serve you until you saw they could help more in their former bodies or a humanoid one. You played around with their claws and wings, even feeding them with the everlasting snacks that you summoned when there was no need to

A smile graced the peaceful scene as you sighed in relief over the cooperation they are capable of. You see them working together, it’ll be better if they could set aside their differences and help each other grow

However, you also know it’s impossible for such an idealistic fantasy to come true. This was Hell, no matter how well you have them under your control, they have free will, therefore, free thought. Lucifer’s right when he believes the people of Hell to be awful, even thinking his daughter was wasting time helping them

You’ll have to deny it because Princess Charlie’s redemption worked. For you were approached by the true Ruler of Heaven in regards to a soul needing to leave Hell and go to Heaven. Similar to your role, they reminded in the background and not rule over the souls of Heaven. The only difference was that they were more mischievous in their actions to prove the high-ranking angels wrong

It’s not your business. So you didn’t care. You let that soul leave your realm either way

Still, the individuals before you wouldn’t be able to leave Hell. Never. You won’t allow it since they have sold their souls to you. Even if they are redempted, you won’t let their soul leave and Heaven’s true Ruler knows better than to fight you on that. You’ll let other souls go, but not ones within your Collection

“My Liege, we have divided our work.” Alastor brought you out of your thoughts. 

You looked over to the other Overlord, who all nodded, showing willingness and agreement to Alastor’s words. You smiled. Yes, if only they didn’t sell their souls to you. “In that case, that’s all for this meeting. I know you won’t keep me waiting or disappoint me.”

“Yes!”

You return to the hotel with your disguised form already taken place when you teleported back. Alastor was such a dear to offer making you a meal to relax and rewind after a long meeting, so you went and sat down, waiting patiently in the dining room with a book in hand

While your eyes seem to be reading the words on the page, you were keeping an eye out for Overlords

Zestial had gone back to his home and reorganize his knowledge and information collected. You have a feeling he’ll be giving you a report some time soon. Since your little absence, he has been diligently working away with what he was provided. He was an Overlord to not much of you until you gave him, after all. Yet he produces excellent results all the same. Very outstanding

Camilla was preserving the room you have significantly changed to the point that nothing would be changed, now you know where to go when another meeting were to take place. You have a good chuckle when you saw Odette and Clara take turns sitting where you sat like schoolgirls with their idol or crush

It’s good not to be feared. Of course, you understand that they weren’t in a contract with you unlike their mother, so maybe that element of fear wasn’t present as they won’t offend you anyhow. You adore those two and secretly put a little protection charm on them when they left before the meeting started. Seriously, them meeting other demons and sinners while delivering weapons is dangerous

Rosie, being the dear she is, went back to Cannibal Town and retold her people the joyous news of your visit. While it was never specified when, they were already preparing a grand welcome for you. Now, you’re feeling a bit awkward since you didn’t plan an exact date. You thought just a spontaneous visit would do

As if sensing your thoughts, Rosie reminded everyone there was no set date or time you’ll be visiting. The cannibals were forced to stop their rushed preparations, but some still prepared all the same. You seriously couldn’t help but smile at their exchange. You do enjoy how Rosie treated you normally at casual times and wasn’t always as a superior

Zeezi was quick to start in her assignment. Immediately acting after mobilizing the souls she owned, the marked territories she was to take over were swiftly put into her hands and her power did grow. Of course, you saw growth in her. Before, she’d be charging head-first into battle. Here, she studied her target from afar for a while then she hunted them down

Now the Vees, they were recovering from their little ordeal. The wounds done on them from your Cages’ angelic touches weren’t recovered by your recovery power, licking their wounds, they made sure to reevaluate themselves and watch what they do. Valentino received quick the shouting from Vox and Velvette, but he shouted back, in the end, it turned out to be a bit of a blaming-on-each-other shout

You had hoped this would be a push for Vox and Velvette to step away from Valentino, to isolate him because there wasn’t much contribution he offered the two. Vox and Velvette can go hand-in-hand and you don’t mind it, they complement each other and their dynamic could be something like Zestial and Carmilla or Alastor and Rosie. But you know it was a stretch to expect them to do so now

Time will tell how your little Overlord group will go

“And now, we change the layout. Remember the bar was in the lobby before? Well, now it’s next to the kitchen and we have a giant dining room where everyone can have meals together! Oh oh! We can even host parties here and feasts!” Charlie’s voice became louder and louder. You figure she was giving a tour to another new guest and minded your business.

“No way…” Now that was a familiar voice.

“Yes way! We can totally host—” Charlie cut off, and her tone became confused. “Uh, dad, where’re you going?”

When the thought registered, Lucifer was already sitting in front of the empty seat in front of you with a bright smile, “My golly! It’s you!”

You smiled politely, keeping up an act, “Yes, greetings, your highness.”

Lucifer laughed, waving his hand like a slap to dismiss it, “Oh, come on! Where’s the familiarity? I owe you so much! Teach!”

Your smile twitched as did your eye, “Why, whatever do you mean?”

“Charlie!” Lucifer called over his daughter. Your smile widened as you felt like screaming into the void. “Meet my lovely teacher that helped me become the man I am today, King of Hell and all that! This is The Collector, or Silver!” He whispered, “A bit shy on the name, or it’s a taboo to say it. You know how it is.”

“Collector!?” Charlie exclaimed with wide eyes, doubling back and forth from her father to you. “But. But! Guest? How? Huh!?”

Husk spit out his drink from what he heard at the bar, immediately wiping his mouth when he looked over to the commotion. “Oh sh*t…”

You sighed and glared at Lucifer with a twitching smile while still in your disguised form, “You…”

Note: And that concludes the meeting~ No tease this time~

I'll be moving back to {Unwanted Soul} plotline (I think), so in the meantime, you guys can send in some scenes you want for this, and I'll see how to write them or treat it as trivia~!

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @plutobots @ray-rook @thealienartist @serenity-songbird @galaxydreamer468 @raynerrold @wen01203 @hikari-michiko @colecreo @myromanempiree @xsamkuro @yourdoorisunlocked @clavelina @jono723 @cursedcattalastor @an-idyllic-novelist @flamiohotman2024 @rea-grace @myromanempiree @veroneverleft

[tarotwithavi]

Random messages for you from your future lover/future spouse

18+ messages in some piles

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Kindly ask your spirit guides to show you the right pile for yourself and then open your eyes. Whichever pile catches your attention is the right pile for you.

These pictures belong to their rightful owners.

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1

"I want to bite your neck and leave my mark there"

"I love the way you walk"

"you look absolutely gorgeous from behind"

"God really took his sweet time creating the masterpiece in front of me"

"I want to worship every part of your body"

"all the lonely nights were worth waiting for you"

"In your arms, I have found my home."

"With you, love is not just a destination but a beautiful journey"

"I will buy you every book you like, but there's a price you must pay"

"In a world of billions, you're the only that makes time stand still"

"The darkness inside me is really to consume you, however I am scared of the consequences"

"If you had any idea about what I want to do to you, you wouldn't be standing here challenging me"

"I want to know everything about you, your likes, dislikes, what makes you happy, what makes you sad, every fucking thing"

"Your whispered desires set my soul on fire"

Pile 2

"You think you can run away from me love?"

"I crave you, I desire you, I want you. In. every. way."

"I love the way you look right now. You don't need to change anything"

"You're flawless. People who find flaws in you are blind"

"tie your hair up. Show me your neck"

"Your presence lights up my darkest night"

"You can literally sell me poison and I will buy that in gallons from you"

"Your acne scars correspond to the craters on the moon. They make you even more beautiful to me"

"You look so f-able in my hoodie"

"You can be my black cat and I can be your golden retriever"

"I will never force my beliefs on you"

"You look magical in that dress"

"I don't want other guys to be close to you, to touch you, I know it's selfish but it's something I can't help but feel. You make you go crazy over you"

"You're like a Siren, alluring me with your voice, enchanting me with your appearance and making me want to do things that are not so pure"

Pile 3

"You are so pure so innocent. I feel like I will taint you with my darkness"

"Some things are better as secrets"

"Do. Not. Provoke Me. You'll not be able to handle it"

"I am not that type of person who dreams of getting married on the first date. But something about makes me feel I should wife you up, like right now.

"I want to see a mini you or/and mini merunning around in our house"

"Do you mind if I ruin your lipstick right now?"

"can you see hearts floating around above my head? No? *Gets heart shaped balloons from God knows where, puts them above their head* Can you see them now?

"With you, even the simplest moments become cherished memories"

"I crave the taste of your lips and the touch of your skin, you are my sweetest addiction"

"With you, time flies by like a shooting star, leaving behind a trail of cherished memories"

"Don't leave me. I have loved you too much to be separated from you.

"You make flowers bloom in my heart just from the thought of you"

Pile 4

"I will work hard for you. I will work hard for us"

"To be honest I will let you step on me"

"Our future is so bright together mama"

"In your arms, time loses its meaning, and all that matters is our love."

"How long do you want me to wait for you? 1 month? 6 months? 1 year? 5 years? A decade? I will wait for you if it means that I can be with you even for a minute"

"I will never judge you for your past. We all make mistakes and it's fine. As long as you don't repeat the same mistake"

"You feel like chopping off your hair? Go ahead, do it. I bet on my left nut you will look good in every hairstyle"

"What makes you think that I wouldn't eat your snacks? Am I not human? Or Do I not have taste buds"

"In the heat of our passion, time fades away, leaving only the intoxicating blend of our souls"

"Your touch ignites a fire within me, and I crave the taste of your lips on mine"

"Baby I am preying on you tonight, hunt you down, eat you alive"

[dilutedh2so4]

What do we think of this? Explanations below 😭

Jezebel x Ahab - The Phoenician princess Jezebel was married to king Ahab of Israel as part of a political alliance. She was key in the attempt to replace the Israelite state religion with her own, killing a few people along the way. She also got Ahab the vineyard he wanted (..through some murderous means..) when his own negotiations failed. Definitely the top in that relationship ;)

Jesus x Judas - something something, must you betray me with a kiss, something something, do what you are here to do, something something, he went and hanged himself

Eve x Lilith - Now, in the Bible, Lilith is only actually mentioned in Isaiah (as an evil spirit), then expanded upon in later tradition (to explain the two Creation accounts in Genesis). In this later tradition, she was said to be Adam's first wife who wouldn't submit to him, so God made another from his rib: Eve. I don't think they ever met, but I have seen some fanart, so here they are

Ruth x Naomi - MY OTP. Canon, because I said so. Tragic, because basically all their male relatives die and then Ruth has to marry Boaz for security. Ruth 1:16-17 my beloved 💔

Jacob x Leah - Put this here as a joke about the fact that Jacob always preferred her sister Rachel over Leah herself, and was tricked into marrying her by Laban.

Mary x Joseph - Two thirds of the Holy Family: the ever-compassionate Mother of God (in Christianity) and the step-dad who Stepped Up. See Matthew 1 & 2, Luke 1 & 2, or the (apocryphal) Protoevangelium of James for more

Devorah x Jael - Doesn't make sense as they never actually meet, but when you have two gaslight-gatekeep-girlbosses in the same chapter, they gotta be together. Don't usually recommend reading Judges (for your own mental health), but maybe look into Judges 4 just for them ;)

David x Jonathan - Where to begin? With how Jonathan's soul was said to be bound with David's, and how he loved him as himself? (1 Sam. 18:1-5) Jonathan risking his life to help David escape King Saul's wrath? (1 Sam. 19 and 20) The pair weeping and kissing before they part? (1 Sam. 20:41) David, in his mourning for [spoilers] Jonathan's death, calling his love more wonderful than that of women? (2 Sam. 1)

Absalom x Mephibosheth - David's son and Jonathan's son, whom David adopted. The two fans are @anniflamma and @sir-davey

Daniel x Darius - King Darius the Mede and the eunuch from Judah he falls for at first sight. Or something. Idk, ask anniflamma

Judith x unnamed maid - It does make sense, I swear. Probably unpopular because it's in the Deuterocanon, and also you have to be really looking for it -- but it is there, I promise!!!

St Paul - Just see 1 Corinthians 7

Don't take this too seriously lol, it's all in good fun :))

Feel free to add what you would have done differently / your own propaganda!

[hyperfixiation-station]

🥺 hi. I get so anxious asking for requests. So I’m sorry if it’s weird. But could I please please Pleaseee get a ghost x fem reader. Hurt to comfort. They were on a mission and she’s there for medic help. Not even to fight. But she got taken by the bad guys. And she gets tortured for information that she doesn’t have. And they play mind games with her. Making her think that they will never come rescue her. They really fully break her body and break her mind by the end of it. But before she thinks she’s about to finally die, Ghost and the others come and save her. And it’s about how the only person she feels safe with after all that is ghost and just him helping her heal and get back to the woman she was before all this. I want it to hurt my soul. 😭 but then there’s hope at the end of it bc they have each other.

My Heart Will Go On

Don't be, I love when people ask me things, and I looooved this request so much!!! I too like to torturehave fun with my OC's :)

TW: Blood, torture, manipulation

Pairing: GhostxReader

Part 2

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all, actually. It was just another mission, another day on the job. You went out with the boys as usual, their assigned medic as theyghost refused to work with anybody else. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was your soft demeanor, your gentle touch, the way you never judged himthem for anything hethey did. But whatever it was, they liked you, and so with them you went.

You hung back at the evac point, also as usual. Sitting in the truck, first aid kit on your lap, a comm in your ear as you listened to your boys and made sure they were all okay. It was a tense fight, gunshots and pained grunting filling your headset. You were on edge, rocking back and forth as you listened for your que to come in. In fact, you were so focused on the comms that you didn’t even notice the danger you were in until it was too late.

Your first cue something was wrong was when the comms went silent. The sounds of battle filled your ears for hours before getting cut off abruptly. Your hand shot to the comm link, fiddling with it as you frantically tried to reconnect, worried something was wrong.

“Ghost, do you copy?”

“Ghost?”

“Price?”

“Gaz?”

“Can you hear me??” Your voice got more and more panicked as you got no response. You yanked the headset off and shrugged your vest on, kit in hand as you slid out of the truck.

Your second clue something was wrong was when you looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at your face. You didn't even have time to ask ‘what’ before everything went dark.

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

“Hello, princesa.” You blink hard as the blindfold is removed from your eyes. The light is blinding, the splitting headache you got from being pistol whipped only intensifying under the harsh lights.

“Who are you?” You manage after a moment, eyes slowly focusing on the man in front of you. He is large, easily over six foot, and built like an absolute unit. His face is covered by a black balaclava, though his scarred, tattooed forearms are on display.

“Don’t play stupid with me.” His voice is deep and smooth, and if you weren’t in the situation you are in you would have asked him to keep talking.

“‘M not! I don't-"

“Don’t lie to me Princesa. I don’t like liars.” A shiver runs down your spine as his tone darkens.

“But I’m-”

“Ah ah lovie, I am one asking questions here.”

“I wasn’t ask-”

“SHUT UP!” You flinch back at the drastic change in tone, the sound sending bolts of pain through your skull.

“Oh sorry Princesa, did that hurt?” Seriously, you are going to get whiplash from his bi-polar personality, “Forgot you have concussion. Let's get you Advil for that and then we see if you talk, yeah?"

You watch with blurry vision as he leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound sends waves of agony through your pounding head, and by the time you can focus again he's back.

All it takes is one well placed blow to the head, an attempt to get you to pay attention, and you're out like a light.

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

“I don’t know anything I swear! Please! I don't know anything!” The sobs tear raggedly out of your throat, already raw from screaming. Your voice is scratchy and broken, but still you can't stop begging.

“I don’t know anything” You sob. Those words, I don’t know, had become your motto over the past few daysweeks(?)

“Oh Princesa. I know.” He croons, running a finger down your bruised face.

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

Time was meaningless. Has it been 2 days since you were captured? Two weeks? Months? You don’t know. Your meals come at staggered times, and your captors never come at a routine time. The lights turn on and off at staggered times, nothing in a set pattern, a system created to mess with your mind.

Not that you know that. This wasn’t the kind of life you lived. You were a medic for heaven's sake. Your hands had been built to mend, to fix, to heal. Not to clutch at broken bones, to scratch against cement, to be chained and broken. You arewere a gentle creature, not designed for this world of torture and terror.

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

"They no come for you." You moan as the words pound through your skull, nearly unintelligible.

"Wh'...y'say?" You mumble, voice scratchy and broken.

"You're friends, Princesa. They are no coming for you." He sighs and moves next you, prodding your side with his steel-toed boot, "You are replaceable, your skills are easily replicated, they no spend time and resources to find a simple medic."

"They…'ll c'me." You wheeze, refusing to belive that Price, that Gaz, that Soap, that Ghost, would just...leave you.

He laughs in response, digging his toe into your side until your gasping in pain.

"We shall see, Princesa. We shall see."

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

You weren’t built for this. Weren’t built to recognize the manipulation, the mind games. Weren’t built to survive the two-face man who was reshaping your brain. The man who was your greatest source of pain, but also your only friend. The man that flayed your flesh open, but soothed and bandaged you when it was all over. This man, who was slowly becoming the only thing you could trust in your unstable world. He may bring you unbearable pain, but he brought you comfort too.

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

"That looks bad, Princesa." The man lightly touches the bones sticking out of your forearm. You whine in pain, clutching it to your chest. He chuckles, wiping your blood off on the cell floor.

"Let's get that fixed up, yeah?" His voice is soft, and gentle, and the nicest thing you've heard in a loooong time. His touch is the same, gentle caresses of bruised and broken skin, revolting and appealing at the same time.

Oh, it's utter agony as he sets and stitches your arm with no pain killers. You scream, back arching, lungs heaving, body seizing.

But after? Oh it's heaven. He holds you, cradling you against his warm body, making sure you don't go into shock, telling you you're a good girl, and that you've made him proud. You hate yourself for it, but you can't help but preen at the praise.

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

He brings you a calendar. One month. It’s been one month since you got taken.

“It’s been over a month.” He says, a deep voice tinged with pity, “and no sign of your…friends. I’d give up being rescued if I were you, because they clearly have.” You can barely hear him as you stare at the paper in his hands, 31 days marked off with big, bright X’s. 31 days that you have been trapped here. 31 days that your squad…hadn’t come for you. Is he right? Are they really not coming? Did Ghost really give up on you? Are you-

“Ay Princesa, I even did what you asked. I sent your squad pictures and videos that even the greenest tech member could pull some coordinates from, but nothing. It’s like I said. Your ‘friends’ don’t care for you. They are not coming for you. I am your only friend in this place. Tell me, who bandages your wounds, who feeds you, who makes sure your living space is comfortable?”

“Y-you do.” You whisper uncertainty, “But…you also hurt me, don’t you?”

“Oh Princesa, I wouldn’t hurt ya if y’ would just listen. It not torture if you're disobedient. It's just…punishment.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, “And you just back-talked me. Do you remember what happens when you try to give me sass?”

"I get…punished." You mumble, cheeks flushing with shame.

"Obviously, you fucking idiot. I mean how."

"I…you…I have to do affirmations."

"Look at that, y'r gettin' it!"

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

"Say it again." He snarls. You sit in front of a mirror, face bruised, bleeding, and swollen.

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends…'re n-no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'v'ble…I 'm r'pl'c'…able." You whisper for the hundredth time.

"Again."

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."

"Again!"

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."

He makes you keep going, repeating those 4 sentences until you literally can't make sound anymore, a fact he tests by seeing how much it takes to get you to scream. You pass out before he gets anywhere.

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

"Ghost?"

"Simon?"

"Please."

"Why are you not coming for me?"

just FYI if the timing seems disjointed and the speech is wierd, that is intentiweird,

anyways I hope you liked it!!!!

[andhumanslovedstories]

I’ve been struggling lately with the feeling that my job is pointless. Intellectually I know it is not—nursing is one of those professions where you get to be real smug about knowing the value of your work. But it’s still felt very pointless. Like I’ll start a shift thinking, “what am I even doing here,” and end it thinking, “what have I actually even done.” It’s been a ROUGH couple months.

But I had a really good shift last time I worked, which was good for the soul and also a very useful data point. I got to do pain management advocacy and symptom management, met a bunch of cool patients, did education for new nurses, and had several long heart to hearts, which the kind of midnight heart to hearts that I think are the most important part of night shift, all of that while being well staffed with very pleasant and appreciative patients and coworkers, and I was still like. Pretty depressed. I had a sense of satisfaction and moments of joy and meaning, but it turns out that one good shift did not cure the depression that has been latched on to me for the last few months like some kind of fucked up mental health leech. As I realized I was still depressed and that it was still interfering with my life even when everything was going well, the sense of peace washed over me was the best I’d felt in a while. Because I was like, okay! None of my usual stuff as worked! I have no excuse not to try something new to get my brain out of the shit ditch it’s slipped into.

So I’m applying for short-term disability. I’m worried I won’t get it, and I’m not sure what the next step is if I get rejected, but I feel so much better having decided to pursue it. It’s so much fuckin paperwork for sure, to a degree that’s overwhelming except that that the form could be a checkbox that says, “you want money?” and I’d be like “THIS IS TOO MUCH.” I’m totally not writing this post instead of finishing an email to my manager. I’m definitely not writing this post to avoid dealing with coordinating all my various care providers. I’m certainly not at every moment worried that I’m secretly faking all this so I can get three to nine weeks of a cool summer vacation.

I was thinking about how I almost flunked nursing school in my final semester because I turned in assignments late for a class with a “no late homework” policy. The professor said that this was reflective of real life, where if you miss deadlines you’re just fucked. I ended up appealing my grade and passing, because frankly it was a weak reason for making me repeat a final semester when there was no issues with my actual work or knowledge. During my appeal, I was like “I also think this policy is ableist. Harsh penalties for late work hurt students with health problems, especially chronic health problems when you aren’t asking for one week off due to the flu but instead for a general and never ending flexibility. I’m not trying to make an excuse but explain why this policy is a bad one. Disabled healthcare workers are an asset to healthcare.” I’m trying to remember my own argument as I pursue help. My depression and ADHD and eating disorder do help me be a better nurse, not because like depression gives you superpowers, but because I manage my chronic illnesses every day, in ways that range from hardly noticeable to life or death. Being kind to patients means being kind to myself, and vice versa.

I’m rambling. I really do not want to do this paperwork or send these emails. And I’m not sure if I deserve the leave I’m trying to take. But I miss being love with my job. I miss enjoying it. I wouldn’t judge someone else for going on medical leave, and my job doesn’t want me to burn out or quit. It almost feels like I have to be skeptical of applying for leave because no one else is. Everyone I’ve spoken to has been very supportive, including my manager. And considering how many unpaid days off I’ve had to take lately, disability leave would be an improvement over some of my recent paychecks. All in all, short-term disability makes sense and seems like a reasonable response to circumstances. But FUCK. I wish it required like 90 percent less documentation.