#i guess that when they finally have to part ways

[bbokicidal]

"What Happens When..." | [SKZ] OT8 | [I.N]

Everyone decides to take a guess what Jeongin's girlfriend's favorite thing to do in the bedroom is - and almost everyone gets it wrong.

Genre: Smut [18+ MDNI] Pairing: Jeongin x Fem!Reader Warnings: SPIT, lots of spit, PinV (wrap it before you tap it), tummy bulge/size kink, manhandling, bondage/hands being bound together, pussy spanking, spanking in general

Notes: This IS a short fic and isn't anything really long. There's no plot - it's purely smut for your viewing pleasure and my mental peace, lol. <- This is the last installment of this series !! It's finally coming to an end.~

Word Count: 2.2K

"Why does Hyunjin get to go first?" "Because he's already between her legs, I guess."

"Would you two shut up? This is all for educational purposes. You need to watch and learn; Because I'm about to prove to you that I know what her biggest kink is." Hyunjin's head whips to face the two that bicker about him, Jisung stepping back and Felix letting his arms cross over his chest. "Ayen-ah's let on before that she really likes this one." His thumb finds your clit, flicking over the bundle of nerves and you finally give him a soft reaction to work with, your eyes slipping shut and hands curling against your chest in awe.

Felix lets out a heavy breath that ends in a soft whine, his head tipping to the side to get a better look at where his Hyung's cock begins to prod at your folds - and Felix can't help but stare as he slowly sinks into your warmth, wishing it were himself instead. "That's not fair.."

"So what exactly is the kink here...? Or is this just one big excuse to fuck your friend's girlfriend?" Chris quips off to Hyunjin's right, peering almost just over his shoulder to watch as the younger's cock sinks further into you. ".. Going in raw?" He questions shortly after, realizing Hyunjin hadn't slipped a condom on before pushing into you.

And Hyunjin sighs, tongue prodding at the corner of his mouth as he listens to the others continue to bicker about him just wanting to have sex with you.

But then Jisung sees it.

The way your skin tightens; The way your stomach bulges each time Hyunjin slowly rolls his hips forward. The way your head tips back as he leans down over you and whispers for you to feel it, guiding one of your hands away from your chest to instead press down on the very place his cock prods and rocks against. "..Bulging..." He whispers, lips parted in surprise at the sight in front of them.

"That's.. a pretty close second." Jeongin hums. He sits back against the headboard as he watches his Hyung rock into you slowly; He was lucky he got to fuck you at all - with Jeongin's permission of course - so he was going to do it with the utmost care. "But that's definitely not top spot."

Jisung practically barks from where he stands behind Hyunjin, reaching to tug on his shoulder. "I knew that wasn't going to be it-! Move, it's my turn." And to many of their surprise, the artist lets himself be pulled away from your sweetness.

Just as expected, Jisung moves forward instead to test his theory. If he could get this right with his one guess he would win the bet. And the prize... God, he's never imagined something so wonderful in his entire life. One hand drops to lay on your thigh while the other reaches to undo his belt - and he watches your eyes widen in surprise at his bold move, thinking he'd won already. Your lips pop apart and you're sure you're about to drool at the way his fingers curl around the buckle and rip it wide open, his belt dragging through the loops of his jeans in such a quick and slick manner that you're sure this is a practiced move. With your reaction he was sure he just ended the bet.

Jeongin almost moves to ask Jisung what he's going to do with that belt, hoping there's no impact about to be made with the accessory - but he simply sits up and stays quiet as he watches Jisung wrap the thick, heavy leather around your wrists to keep them snug together. Your soft gasp of anticipation feeds into Jisung's delusion that he was winning the bet, letting him pin your arms down above your head before he leans in to smile right in your face. "You like bondage, don't you, angel?"

And your smile grows, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you nod. "I do; I really, really do. But..." Jisung's heart sinks as you giggle. "It's not my favorite."

"Hah!" Changbin's laugh basically spews from his lips in a visual syllable, his arms previously crossed over his chest now gesturing to Jisung to skidaddle. "Go. She said you lost the bet so get off 'er and let someone else have a turn." His lips pull into a soft smirk, parted and exposing the way his tongue pokes between his teeth like he has ideas of his own to try out.

But someone else is just a tad quicker with wanting to win the bet. As soon as Jisung moves off of the bed in front of you to go sit beside Jeongin in defeat, Minho is right there to take his place; Only he doesn't crawl onto the bed to get to you and instead stands at the edge of it, feeling as though he looms over your still-bound body displayed for them so openly atop the sheets.

Your wrists stay above your head as you crane your neck to look at the man standing so close yet so far, only to have your head bounce back against the mattress from the force of Minho's hand locking around your right ankle tight enough you're sure it might bruise. He wastes no time in dragging you to where he stands so he's properly positioned between your legs, his eyes dark as they drag over every curve that comes to him so swiftly. And no one in the room can ignore the way you yelp at the feeling of being manhandled.

Calloused palms and rough fingertips run up the outer expanse of your thighs, coming nowhere near close to your warmth as they wander higher. He grips at your hips and gives them a teasing squeeze, feeling the way your skin presses between his fingers; So soft, so tempting. With careful but fairly stiff and rough movements, the muscle in his biceps tightens and flexes as he flips you from your back to your front - your face down and ass up for him. A position most would expect when it came to the resident ass-lover of the group. "There we go."

And with the way you moan the moment your face hits the sheets everyone in the room can almost guarantee Minho had won the bet fair and square. That was until your head slowly lifted from where it pressed against the mattress, breathing heavy with eyes dragging up towards your boyfriend where he sat now in front of you - smirking and letting his arms slowly cross over his chest. "You gonna tell them, baby, or do I have to?"

"There's no way that wasn't it." But Seungmin steps forward to test his luck anyway. Even if Minho won the bet just now, he wanted to get his own needs met, his palm smacking down hard on the bare skin of your asscheeks twice before he brought his hand lower and let it meet the wetness of your folds. That gets you to jolt, a sharp gasp escaping swollen lips.

The way you whimpered against the satin of your sheets almost made Seungmin think he was right about his guess, but the glance and small shake of Jeongin's head seemed to secure the realization that he was wrong, too. Seungmin sighs out and brings his hand down harder than before, making you flinch and moan loud - just for him, considering he'd been spanking you for his own satisfaction at that point. May as well let him know you appreciated it while it happened - and that you were open to it in the future, too, of course.

"I'm starting to think we're never going to guess it," Chris murmurs from where he stands near Changbin, leaning against the wall just to watch as everyone took guess after guess. "Maybe we should start going for softer kinks? Stuff that's less harsh...?"

Changbin shakes his head almost immediately. "She seems like the type who would like impact play or something, though. Do we need to go for something more extreme..?"

"What if it's got something to do with toys?" Jisung quips quietly, seated on the edge of the bed and fighting hard not to beg for another chance at winning the bet.

While the producers babbled on to each other about where to go from their current point, Felix stepped forward from where he'd been observing the entire time the others tried to figure out what it was you liked. You'd reacted well to everything they'd done so far; Hyunjin's size, Jisung's restraining, Minho's manhandling, and then Seungmin's spanking. There was no way in Hell you didn't enjoy the more hard-hitting kinks and the like - so he was going to take his chance while the others whined to each other about losing the bet. Besides, they were working against each other - not with.

"Move." Felix hums, gently nudging Minho aside. The older of the two surprisingly complies with ease and steps aside to watch Felix with close eyes, his hands settling on your ass before rubbing down to your hips. There's no hold, no grabbing - no slapping, spanking, bruising or restraining. No, Felix's hands are gentle as they rub over your skin, smoothing down the swell of your ass before giving a teasing squeeze and trailing lower. He settles his hands along your thighs before using his thumbs to spread your pussy open just for him to see - and for Minho to get a glance at.

Chris tips his head as he watches, eyes drawn away from Jisung and Changbin when Felix had stepped forward to take a shot at the prize. "Felix, wait. We should figure out what --"

But then he stops, lips popping apart in pure surprise at the utter filthiness of the younger man placed behind you.

Just as you lift your head to peek up in slight confusion at their constant rambling - and the feeling of someone's hands on you from behind who definitely was not Minho - Felix spits on your pussy.

It splatters on the pink of your skin, mixing with the slick that seems to gush from your aching, empty hole - and Felix watches as you clench around nothing in desperation. Yeah, he'd just won the bet.

"Shit," falls from Hyunjin's lips before he can help it, staring down the brunet who he wasn't aware until now was quite so.. dirty. His eyes dart from Felix over to where you lay, your reaction giving everything away; The way you bury your face down in the sheets as a strangled and shy moan rips from your throat; The way your cheeks burn a crimson hue none of them had seen all night. Even your ears tint pink in embarrassment that your dirty little secret had been revealed.

Jeongin, finally sitting forward and reaching to cup your cheeks in one of his hands, tips your head to face him so you can't quite hide away from them no matter how much you want to. "Look at me," he demands, voice soft but firm with instruction. "Open." And the others watch as you obey so sweetly for your boyfriend, lips falling apart and jaw completely slack so he can spit right onto your tongue - your mouth closing so you can swallow it before whimpering out in need of more.

And Felix - well, he's in Heaven. He'd took his shot and won the bet, belt everyone else out of the water no matter how hard they tried to figure you out - and he'd done it just by standing back and watching. His chest swells with pride and excitement at the knowledge that now, he got to receive his prize; That being you for at long as he wanted - or as long as he could last, he supposed. There was no way he was giving you back up to Jeongin before he was milked dry. And what kind of a friend would he be if he didn't pump you full before he returned you to your rightful owner?

"Get out." His voice is low in his chest, demanding everyone else leave so he could have his time with you. He needed it more than anything at the moment - you two shared the exact same kink and he was sure now he'd put that knowledge to good use, maybe even treat you so well with it that you wouldn't want to go crawling back to your boyfriend. But more importantly, you needed it, too, what with the way you were still clenching around nothing and just begging for him to spit on your pretty pussy again.

As the others file out the bedroom door, Jeongin chuckles low in his throat and leans forward to give you a quick kiss before he departs. His thumb slides over your cheek, gentle and soft - soothing before the heated, lust-filled ache that was bound to come in the following hours. His lips were like Heaven - like home - as they pressed against yours in a promise that once Felix was done with you - done with his reward for winning the bet and getting to use you like a toy for as long as he wanted - he would return and greet you with a warm embrace to give you as much care as you needed. Not that he doubted Felix would treat you well. Jeongin took a moment to peek down at where your wrists were still bound together with Jisung's belt, moving a hand down to hook a finger around the leather to give a gentle tug. He smiled against your lips, thumb tugging at the lower as he slowly pulled away to whisper,

"I'm going to leave this here. Good luck, baby."

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek

[downbad4sylus]

“You kept your name”

(part 2 to “I killed you”)

synopsis: You and Sylus take a ride to an eerily familiar field of flowers on the outskirts of the N109 Zone.

content: sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; pre-relationshipish; cameo from the twins; smol angst; tooth-rotting fluff; kissing; possibly canon divergence (i make shit up about present-day sylus since we don’t have all the answers yet); mostly proofread

word count: ~3k (whoops)

tags: @evilldentists; @midiplier; @chillycheem

a/n: incredibly grateful for all the love for the first part so hope you all enjoy the second part just as much!!! anyone interested in a nsfw special part 3 >>;;;)))))

You had a much easier time falling back to sleep than you thought you would. Perhaps the exhaustion of reliving your past coupled with a weight you didn’t even realize you’d had finally being lifted off your shoulders.

When morning came, you woke again nestled in the same position you’d fallen asleep in, head resting on Sylus’s chest listening to his unusually rapid heartbeat. Though now, you supposed, it wasn’t quite so unusual.

You lifted your head and found Sylus still asleep. It was rare for you to wake before him, and you always took the time to admire his sleeping face. Carefully, you ghosted a finger toward his face, intent on lightly tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips—

Sylus’s hand snatched your wrist. “Having fun?” he drawled, not even opening his eyes.

“You ruined my fun before I could start,” you whined, sticking out your bottom lip.

Sylus chuckled and laced his fingers through yours. “Surely you’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

“I guess,” you muttered.

“How generous.”

You propped yourself up by your forearm as Sylus finally opened his eyes to meet your own. “Are you sure it’s okay we go? I know you don’t like being out during the day.”

He brought your linked hands to his face, twisting them to brush his lips along the back of yours. “I’ll be fine,” he assured. “It’s supposed to be overcast today anyway.”

“Okay, as long as you’re sure.”

“I always am with you, sweetie.”

Your heart squeezed. Such an innocuous statement yet it held profound meaning.

Sylus sucked in a deep breath. “Let me at least make us breakfast first before we go.”

You perked up. You loved it when Sylus cooked for you. “Do I get to sit at the island and watch?”

He chuckled. “Of course.”

Hardly able to contain your excitement, you leapt out of bed, dragging Sylus along with you out of the bedroom, into the hallway, all the way to the kitchen. You didn’t even give the man a chance to put on pants.

Rather than sitting at the island, as it was much too far away from him, you perched on the counter beside the stove, watching Sylus expertly cook two perfect omelets. Once they were plated, you both sat at the island, so close your thighs were touching. Before you could pick up your fork and knife, however, Sylus had already cut a piece of his omelet and was holding it in front of your face.

“Open,” he commanded.

You obeyed, cheeks heating as you opened your mouth and he placed the bite on your tongue.

“Now close,” he purred, sliding the fork from your lips, eyes trained intently on yours. “Good kitten.”

Trying very hard not to choke, you chewed the savory bite, moaning at how good it was. Sylus’s lips twitched in smug satisfaction.

“It’s so good, Sy,” you said after you swallowed, already digging in to the omelet on your own plate.

“Only the best for you, sweetie,” Sylus quipped, taking a bite himself.

Sylus insisted on feeding you once he scarfed down his omelet faster than you could keep track of. You protested at first, saying you weren’t a child, but when he pinched your chin and drawled in that deep, silky voice of his “You’ll be a good kitten for me, won’t you?” you folded instantly.

Cheeks as red as his eyes, you let Sylus start feeding you the remaining half of your omelet, losing yourself in the intimate moment—

“Boss? Miss Hunter?”

Your head whipped to the side before you could take the bite Sylus offered, eyes going wide when you found Luke and Kieran standing at the edge of the kitchen. Even with their masks on, you knew they had shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Uh, hi…guys,” you muttered, swiveling on the stool, giving them your back, too embarrassed to face them.

“Were we interrupting something?” Kieran asked.

Sylus placed a hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing soothingly. “Just breakfast,” he stated simply.

“Why are you having breakfast, Boss?” Luke asked. “You aren’t usually awake at this time.”

“Y/N and I are going on an impromptu trip today, which means you’re both in charge while I’m gone.” His voice took a bit of a sharp edge as he said, “I don’t want to be bothered.”

“Of course, Boss,” said Luke.

“You can count on us!” finished Kieran.

Sylus hummed in approval, squeezing your thigh. You looked over at him and was surprised that he was holding another piece of omelet for you to eat.

“Sylus,” you hissed, eyes darting over to where the twins now stood across the island. Did this man have no shame?

He tilted his head. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” he asked teasingly. “Not hungry anymore?”

“Can we have the rest of your omelet, Miss Hunter?”

You turned again, now looking at the twins. The thought of having them witness Sylus feeding you was enough to make you lose what was left of your appetite.

You snatched the fork from Sylus’s hand, threw it onto the plate, and pushed it toward the twins. “Knock yourselves out.”

They cheered their thanks and immediately dug in, lifting their masks only enough so they could shovel fork fulls into their mouths. You ignored Sylus’s frown and instead grabbed his wrist, leading him from the kitchen back to his bedroom.

Around a half hour later, you and Sylus had changed (the man had a closet full of clothes just for you, obviously) and were making your way to his bike.

Staring at the sleek motorcycle, you wondered idly if Sylus preferred riding to driving because it reminded him of flying. You’d ridden on the back of his bike enough times to know he frequently ignored speed limits and you’d even caught him a few times without a helmet. You weren’t sure if the half-crazed lecture you’d given him about not caring about his safety actually got through to him, but Sylus made sure to have a helmet on every time you saw him after that. Not that it mattered, only you could kill him anyway, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to get injured.

Knuckles rapping softly on your forehead tore you from your thoughts.

“Did I lose you, kitten?” Sylus asked with a smirk.

“Sorry,” you breathed. “I was just…thinking.”

His head tilted. “About what?”

You gnawed at your bottom lip, unsure whether to share said thoughts with him.

Sylus pressed his thumb against your lip, tugging it free from your teeth. “Don’t bite your lip,” he murmured. “Tell me what you were thinking.”

“I was wondering if you like riding your bike because it reminds you of flying.”

His brows twitched closer, his lips teasing a frown. You instantly regretted what you’d confessed, the last thing you wanted was to upset him.

“I’m not upset,” he said, easily reading your facial expression. “Just a bit caught off guard.”

“Why?”

“Because you only just remembered our past and you’ve already figured me out.”

You thought back to the puzzle pieces that had been put in place after you’d woken from your memories, how easy it was to understand the Sylus before you now and how his actions reflected the Sylus you’d known then.

You smiled. “I feel like it’s less impressive when you’ve had an advantage over me this whole time,” you protested jokingly. “You figured me out pretty quick, too.”

Sylus chuckled. “I guess that makes us even then.” He reached behind him, grabbing the helmet he’d gotten for you (yes, it had cat ears), and hooked a finger under your chin, tilting it up. “You ready?”

“Yes,” you answered firmly.

He placed the helmet over your head, buckling the strap beneath your chin, and gave it a soft tap when he was finished. He then put on his own helmet before swinging his long leg over the seat, gesturing for you to join behind him.

Seated on the bike, arms wrapped securely around Sylus’s waist, he took off onto the streets of the N109. Your surroundings blurred as he weaved his way through the zone, heading toward the outskirts.

Closing your eyes, you imagined you were on his back while he flew you through the sky. It was freeing, affording you a newfound appreciation for rides with Sylus. Perhaps now they could be reminiscent of the past for the both of you, not just him.

It didn’t take long before the N109 Zone faded into the background, Sylus now riding down a long stretch of road with open fields on either side. There were no flowers though, so you wondered where, exactly, he was taking you.

Your destination became clear however, when a shock of red greeted you on either side of the road.

Sylus slowed the bike to a halt, kicking down the stand and cutting the engine. As he took off his helmet, you remained still, looking out at the field of red flowers that was just like the one in your shared dream. How was this possible? Was it merely a coincidence that these fields existed in this lifetime too?

Your helmet being unbuckled and lifted off your head broke you from your stupor and you found Sylus standing in front of you, waiting patiently with a hand outstretched. You took it, letting him support you as you climbed off the bike. He laced your fingers together once both your feet were on solid ground, and led you forward, into the flowers.

It was surreal, walking through the field beside Sylus. It felt like two worlds colliding, past and present melding together. It made your heart flutter with excitement knowing that this time would be different. This time you’d be damned if you didn’t get your happy ending.

Sylus stopped abruptly, giving you no warning before plopping onto the ground, dragging you down with him. You squealed as you fell into his lap, giggling as he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

The first time Sylus found this field of flowers, no different from the one outside of Tarus City, he’d nearly been brought to his knees. He wasn’t one to believe in signs but this one felt undeniable, too much of a coincidence to not mean something. It was before you’d officially met, but it gave him an unfounded confidence that once you did, he’d have his beloved again. He’d promised himself then that he wouldn’t come back here unless it was with you, and now, he’d fulfilled that promise.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, threading your fingers through Sylus’s soft hair.

He hummed, the noise vibrating against your skin. He placed a single, chaste kiss on your pulse point before pulling away and meeting your gaze. “Ask your questions,” he said gently.

You pursed your lips as you decided where to start. “Are you still a dragon?”

Sylus huffed, amused. “Well,” he began, sucking in a breath, “yes and no.”

You raised a brow in silent command for him to continue.

“I’m more human than I am dragon now, but not fully either,” he said.

That certainly explained the strange comments he would make every so often.

“Do you still have wings?”

He nodded.

“Horns?”

Another nod.

“Tail?”

“Yes, kitten, all three.”

You looked at his head, thinking if you stared hard enough, his horns would appear. “But…where are they?”

“Hidden away by my Evol,” Sylus answered. “It takes a lot of energy to do so.”

“Is that why the sunlight bothers you? Is it easier to keep them hidden during the night?”

Sylus smirked. “Clever kitten,” he said, all the confirmation you needed. “What else?”

“Can I see them?” you blurted.

His brows rose in surprise. “Not right now.” When you pouted, he added, “Some other time, when we’re in private.”

“Fine,” you relented. You glanced down at where his arms encircled your waist and slid a hand over one of his. “The linkage is my doing.”

“That’s not a question,” Sylus teased.

“I know,” you said. “Just wanted to get it out in the open, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“When did you realize it was my curse?” you asked instead.

“The first time,” he said simply.

You snorted. “Of course you did.” You lifted your head to meet his striking red eyes. “Is there anything you’re bad at?”

Sylus barked a laugh, causing your heart rate to increase. “I’m sure there’s a few, but I haven’t figured out any of them yet.”

“Ugh, your arrogance is immeasurable sometimes.”

But you still love me, was what Sylus wanted to say, but settled on, “What other questions do you have for me?”

A thought occurred to you suddenly and you sat up straighter in his lap, brows drawing together. “Did you make me shoot you to see if I actually wanted you dead?”

The bastard grinned. “Maybe.”

You slapped his shoulder. “Sylus!”

He was laughing, but damn it did you love to hear him laugh. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

You shook your head. “You’re insane, that’s what you are.”

“An important trait needed for the leader of Onychinus, something you haven’t shied away from.”

“Guess I’m a bit insane as well,” you muttered.

“Guess so,” Sylus agreed, smiling.

You softened, unable to stay annoyed with him when he looked at you with such tenderness, something he reserved only for you.

You reached up and lightly traced beneath his right eye. “You kept your name.”

“If you couldn’t pronounce my true name, I’m pretty sure no one else would be able to either,” he teased.

You chuckled. “You’re right, Sylus is much easier to pronounce.”

“And it was given to me by my beloved, how could I not keep it?” he murmured.

His beloved. You were his beloved, then and now.

And he was still your dragon, even if the dragon part was currently hidden.

You leaned away from him, something he nearly growled at, but stopped himself when he watched you pick a nearby flower. With a soft smile, you tucked it behind his ear, then slid your hand down to his chest, the same spot you’d once placed a flower in his scales. The same spot he’d hidden the brooch that allowed you free passage through his territory.

“Flowers suit you better than the N109 Zone,” you murmured.

A heartbreakingly tender smile lifted the corners of Sylus’s lips. “That’s the first time someone said those words to me.”

You felt like crying.

“Only you and this flower”—his eyes flicked toward his ear—“can touch me here.”

Sylus picked a flower of his own and placed it in your hair, then cupped your face, running his thumb along your cheek.

Feeling such an undeniable pull toward him despite being already so physically close, you shifted in Sylus’s lap to straddle his hips, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sucked in a sharp breath at the new position, the hand on your face sliding to brace the back of your head.

Running your fingers through the hair at his nape, your eyes darted between his and his lips.

“Do you have any more questions?” he asked breathlessly.

“Just one,” you said.

“What is it?”

“Can the N109 Zone have flowers bloom everywhere, as far as the eye can see?”

“Only for one person.”

Sylus’s lips crashed into yours.

He was firm but gentle, angling your head right where he wanted you as his tongue swept over your bottom lip. You opened for him, whimpering when his tongue slid along yours.

Sylus’s kiss was claiming, taking what was rightfully his. He’d been waiting for this moment since he first laid eyes on you in this lifetime. Waiting for his beloved to come back to him.

Tightening his grip on you, Sylus flipped you onto your back, his body pressing against yours, all without breaking the kiss.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on his strands. Between kisses you managed, “I want…to touch…your horns.”

Sylus groaned and you felt it rumble through his chest. He finally broke away from your lips only to trail open-mouthed kisses across your jaw and down your neck. “Not here,” he said roughly.

You would’ve been more upset had his lips not felt like heaven on your skin.

“Sylus,” you said, pulling his hair to get his attention.

He lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and ears red. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head. “No,” you said, cupping his warm cheek. He nuzzled against your palm. “I love you, Sylus.”

Air whooshed from his lungs and his lips were on yours again. Your souls may have been bound but Sylus was still in disbelief by your confession, even though you’d all but said it last night. Fate—who had always been cruel to him—had finally turned in his favor. There was no curse to separate you this time, only one to keep you by his side. This was a second chance for the both of you, to love each other freely, to explore what life could truly be like together, and now that he had you, Sylus would scorch the earth before he ever let you go again.

He drew back, waiting for you to look him in the eyes before saying, “I love you too, Y/N.”

You huffed an incredulous laugh, tears welling as you stared at the man you loved. Your dragon, with you once again.

Sylus’s loving gaze took on a dangerous glint. “How about we head back to the base and I’ll show you my horns, sweetie?”

With a wide grin, you nodded. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”

Sylus chuckled, placing one last kiss against your lips before hefting you off the ground.

Then hand-in-hand, dragon and sorceress, having been given a second chance at love, walked through a field of flowers where once life ended but now a new one could begin.

[hueseok]

it was always you (from the vault)

originally titled: take my breath away.

a.k.a. the original draft for my “it was always you” fic wherein naval aviator!jungkook is your cocky soon-to-be-ex-husband who won’t sign your divorce papers because he’s still in love with you lol.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 4.5k

content: fluff, semi-angst, exes to ??? | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + husband!jungkook

warning: what you’re about to read (if you do choose to read this) is an unfinished work which perhaps will forever be unfinished.

the only reason i’m posting it because i feel like it’d be a waste to let it rot in my drafts considering that i really liked how it went until the moment i stopped writing hehehehe. i’ve also thought about continuing this story but since i already have an existing naval aviator!jungkook in my masterlist, i felt like it’d be redundant to post this!

anyhow, since a lot of you showed so much love to “it was always you”, i thought it’d be nice to share this 🥹

You really hoped that flying for almost three hours and experiencing horrid turbulence during half of the trip was going to be worth it. But again, that was only the first part of the whole charade; the real challenge would begin perhaps much later, when you finally come face to face with the person that you were scheduled to meet.

As you walked inside the bar, the nerves that previously weren’t there started to crawl from your chest to your legs, making it harder to reach the counter where a vacant bar stool stood. You didn’t even know why you were suddenly nervous—although you could only guess that the sudden burst of anxiety was rooted from talking again to the most stubborn man ever to walk on earth—and you were already preparing yourself for the long conversation you were going to have with him and possibly the extended leave you’ll have to inform your boss for this trip because of his infamous stubbornness.

“____?” a familiar voice abruptly called out for you after you finished ordering a mug of beer from the barmaid, “no fucking way. It can’t be.”

You turned to your left and saw Jung Hoseok.

Spoiler: he wasn’t the person you were going to meet today, which made seeing him such a delight. You grinned immediately upon making eye contact, hopping out of your chair and exclaiming his name with the same enthusiasm he let out when he did realize it was you who he was looking at.

“Holy shit. What are you doing here?” He automatically engulfed you in a tight embrace when you initiated. You noticed that he was wearing an off duty attire, a plain black polo shirt and blue jeans, his hair kept neat and short. “Actually, scratch that—there’s only one person you should be here for.”

You bothered to smile. “Yeah. I’m guessing he didn’t tell anyone I’m visiting, huh?”

“Nope. He 100% kept it a secret because he knows that we’re going to steal you away if he spills.”

“We?” you mused. You didn’t even know that he was training with Hoseok, and now you’re discovering that Hoseok’s apparently not the only friend he has here. “How many of you that I know are training with him?”

Hoseok takes a short pause to think about it. “Hm… well, there’s me, then Yoongi and… Namjoon. That’s just about it.”

“Wow. It’s essentially the whole group again, huh?”

“Yup. I mean, we are the best of the best.” He smirked.

You playfully rolled your eyes.

“And we’ve missed you,” he added swiftly. “I’m a bit mad that your husband didn’t inform us that you’d be here—but again, I’m not surprised.”

“Sorry. I think I have myself to blame for that. I did tell him that I don’t intend to stay here for too long.”

“Why not?”

“I’m just here to make sure he signs the divorce papers.”

Hoseok nodded, thoughtful and a bit disappointed. “Is he giving you a hard time with them?”

“You can say that.” A dramatic sigh escaped you. “He insisted that if I really wanted to get his signature, I should just go here where he’s training.”

“Classic Jungkook.” He laughed, and you agreed with a snort.

He was right, this was all a Classic Jungkook move. 

Sometimes, you didn’t understand why you agreed to marry Jungkook so urgently when he asked for your hand, even after knowing that he did everything he could to ensure that he got what he wanted in the end.

Though that was just that thing, wasn’t it? He knew exactly what to do in order to get what he wanted—and at that time of his proposal, you knew it was you that he sought for.

Despite the fact that Jungkook had only been seeing you for less than a year, he was convinced that you were the love of his life. It was the reason why when he needed to be deployed for a mission, it seemed proposing was the most natural thing to do, going on about how he wanted to be reassured that when he came back for you, you were going to be there waiting for him, not only as a girlfriend, but as his wife.

And you said yes, without missing a beat, because you genuinely loved Jungkook and for you, the both of you were a match made in heaven.

By the two year mark of being a wedded couple though, just being in love with each other wasn’t enough. There were a lot of arguments, irreconcilable differences, a lot of moments wherein you wanted to abandon everything and just disappear—until you finally declared that enough was enough and you were going to file for divorce.

Of course, Jungkook didn’t want to sign them, but he did grant you a little bit of your freedom back. He did so by leaving your shared apartment on a random Thursday, only sending a text that said he was being called by the Navy for a mission he couldn’t disclose per usual, and that if you really wanted to divorce him, you’d just have to wait for him to go back.

He never returned though. Because after that mission, came a next one, and another one, until you heard that he was invited to a naval fighter weapons school in the northern part of the country, close to the seas and where he’ll be training for a few weeks among the best naval aviators in the nation. 

That’s when he decided to invite you over and say that if you wanted his signature, you’d have to be the one who’ll go to him. You initially contemplated for a long time before just going forth with his ridiculous demand. Nonetheless, you figured you were once again left with no choice because here you were now, doing exactly what he wanted to get what you exactly wanted as well.

God, who knew that contrary to how easy it was to enter this marriage, it was an absolute pain to get out of it?

“Do you know where he might be?” you asked Hoseok while taking a sip of your beer. “Or if he’s going here at least?”

“I have no clue,” Hoseok said. “Though I do know that he should have free time. We don’t have training for the rest of the day.”

“I’ll be seriously pissed if he stands me up.”

“He won’t.”

“It’s Jungkook.”

“Yeah, but you’re ____,” he said it like it was reason enough, “and Jungkook can’t resist seeing you. Especially if it’s been what? How many months have passed since you two saw each other?”

You held up six fingers, continuing to gulp down your drink in frustration. “Still, he loves to annoy the shit out of me.”

“It’s his love language.”

“Oh, I’ve been made very aware.”

Hoseok barked out a laugh. He was a huge fan of your dynamic with Jungkook; he was practically there throughout the whole journey of your relationship. As Jungkook’s weapon systems officer, the both of them were thick as thieves, which also made him the best man of the wedding—so deep inside, he wanted to believe that whatever it was that you and Jungkook were dealing with, it would be resolved soon enough.

“Well, it looks like you don’t have to wait for too long.” Hoseok toasted his glass to the direction of the entrance where the Jeon Jungkook entered, removing his aviator sunglasses and hooking it on the collar of his white shirt, worn inside a dark blue long-sleeved polo he was sporting as well.

You followed his line of vision and scowled at the sight of Jungkook. Not because you hated your husband, but because even when in the middle of finalizing a divorce, you couldn’t deny that he was too handsome for his own good.

“I think this is my cue to leave,” Hoseok added, getting off his seat. “It was nice seeing you again, ___. Let’s catch up later, yeah? I’ll conspire with Joon and Yoongi to steal you away.” He smiled mischievously and gave you a sweet chaste kiss on the cheek before walking over to Jungkook, greeting him, pointing to where you were, and then walking to another table where you guessed a bunch of other naval aviators were hanging out.

A sigh escaped you, just in time when Jungkook met your gaze.

He grinned—actually grinned—and you had to prevent your eyes from twitching to not look like some crazy person who didn’t have any self-control. So, instead of plastering the same scowl a few seconds ago for him to see, you flashed a sarcastic smile, waving your hand.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” Jungkook claimed when he was close enough, marching towards you, appearing like he was going to go for a kiss but before he could, you outstretched an arm and stopped him by literally wrapping your fingers around his neck as if you were planning to choke him to death with the gesture (which you were tempted to do).

He rolled his eyes, holding your wrist and bringing it down.

“Can’t I give you a kiss?” he retorted.

“No.”

“And Hoseok can?”

“Hoseok’s my friend.”

“I’m your husband.”

“Ex-husband.”

“Wrong. I haven’t signed any divorce papers, honey, so in the eyes of the law, I’m still very much your husband.” He quickly stole a kiss on the corner of your mouth and you allowed yourself to grimace in annoyance, glaring at him as he took Hoseok’s previous seat.

You watched him order a drink for himself and nachos for sharing. You didn’t say anything while he did all that; you just stared at him, analyzing him, trying to decipher what was going on in that head of his. You honestly had no clue what his thought process was in depriving you of the signature you wanted and then randomly agreeing to meet you again, accompanied with the condition that you’re the one who has to go to him and not the other way around.

As he reasoned, he was still in the middle of training, and he couldn’t just leave even if he wanted to and that’s why you had to make the effort to make this work (he made it clear that he didn’t want to make the effort anyway if it meant it could lead to his and yours divorce).

“How are you?” he asked once he was done ordering and you scoffed.

“Let’s not do that, Jungkook.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me that I’m not allowed to know how you’re doing too.”

“I meant the small talk. Let’s just cut to the chase.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Jungkook.”

“Alright.” He placed an arm against the counter, spinning his stool to face you. “You already know where I stand, though. I still haven’t changed my mind in wanting to work it out first.”

“What? But you told me that if I went here—”

“I would talk to you, not sign the papers,” he finished. “You didn’t really think I’d sign them just like that, right?”

Your stomach dropped.

There goes assuming that the three-hour flight to go here would be worth it.

“I did, actually.” You grumbled. “When are you giving this a rest?”

He seemed annoyed by the rhetoric question. “When are you going to stop thinking that divorce is the answer to our problem?”

“We already did couple’s therapy and that proved to be a waste of time.”

“That’s because you were stubborn and wouldn’t cooperate.”

“Oh, I’m the one who’s stubborn between the both of us? I’m the one who wouldn’t cooperate?”

“Yes.”

“No, I’m not!” You raised your hands up. “You were the one who always said some lame excuse to not attend it with me.”

“Babe, how many times do I have to tell you, my schedule isn’t—”

“Yeah, whatever.” You didn’t let him finish, knowing that he was going to say something about how being in the Navy didn’t grant him the free time you were expecting him to have.

“I’m just saying… you can’t keep on doing this, you know?” you said.

“Can’t keep doing what?”

“Prolonging this. We already broke up, Jungkook. There’s not point in staying married.”

“That’s the thing, though.” He smirked. “I can keep prolonging it.”

Your nostrils flared. “Why?”

“Because I can.”

You think flashes of red were beginning to blur your vision.

Jungkook noticed the rage building up, yet he didn’t back down. “Why are you even so eager to legally separate? Do you plan on getting married again soon?” he asked.

It was supposed to be a joke, because Jungkook didn’t actually think you were seeing anyone at the moment—but at the mention of it, he saw the manner in which your expression slightly shifted, and he narrowed his eyes at you, understanding. “Don’t bullshit me. You aren’t seeing anyone, right?”

You blinked, acting all innocent. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is. You’re still married to me.”

“We’ve broken up for almost a year now, Jungkook.” You groaned, remaining him once again. “If you just signed the goddamn papers, all of this would be out of your hands.”

He scoffed. “You are seeing someone?”

“That is not the point of our conversation.”

“Well, it’s a significant aspect of it.”

“Fine.” You huffed. “I am seeing someone. Happy?”

Jungkook was in fact not happy. He was angry, but then he thought of how he shouldn’t be, because you and him have broken up for almost a year now like you said. Even though he wasn’t in support of that notion, he remembered at least granting you enough freedom to feel like you could date around without thinking about how you were technically cheating on him if ever you did. 

However, he didn’t really think you would find someone. Sure, you were beautiful, you had an amazing personality, there was no question when it came to you attracting men, yet you could be picky most of the time. It was even a miracle how he managed to bag you; though he guessed that he didn’t really have to try that hard in the first place before because the two of you just had so much in common for you to ignore.

“What’s his name?” he asked after a long silence.

You crossed your arms. “Do you have to know?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” You adjusted yourself in your seat. “It’s Ben.”

Jungkook thought the name sounded stupid. “How long have you been dating him?”

You hesitated, already predicting how he was going to react that you almost exaggerated the answer, but decided against it last minute. “Five weeks.”

He suddenly burst out laughing, the sound echoing inside the bar; it was the exact type of response you were positive he was going to do, proof that you knew him too well and that you shouldn’t have changed your pretense in the first place.

“It’s not funny,” you hissed, noticing that a lot of people were glancing at where you were both situated. “What the hell is funny about what I said?”

“You want to divorce me for a guy you’ve been dating for five weeks?” He carried on snickering; he barely got the whole sentence out because he was too busy catching his breath.

“Of course not! I would just prefer it if I don’t have any baggage left before attempting to commit to another relationship.”

The barmaid came back with Jungkook’s beer and nachos. He thanked her and slid the basket of cheesy nachos to your direction, an offer that you could get a piece if you wanted. However you were neither hungry nor interested in getting anything from him that would elicit a thank you from you, too prideful at this point due to how annoying he was being.

“What does he do for a living?” he asked next.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to make fun of it.”

“Is it worth making fun of?”

“No.”

“Then just tell me.” He threw a chip inside his mouth. 

You pressed your lips together. “He’s a bank clerk.”

Jungkook didn’t laugh this time, but the corners of his mouth were twitching as he grinned, and you found yourself refraining from wanting to strangle him again, questioning why you thought it was a good idea to come here since it was obvious that talking to him properly was an impossible task.

“You’re dating a bank clerk?” he posed the question like it was the most preposterous thing he had heard from you today. “What the hell do the both of you have in common?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll have you know that Ben is a very nice guy.”

“That’s what ladies say when a man is horrible in bed.”

“That’s not true.”

“Is he good then?”

“That’s none of your business, Jungkook,” you uttered once more, teeth gritting. “Besides, it’s only been five weeks.”

He smirked. “That’s a no then. It seems that you haven’t slept with him,” he said. “Makes sense. I mean, if you have already slept with another guy, you might be already begging me to get back together. Given that I’m the best sex you’ve ever had.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “How the fuck are you always so arrogant?”

“It comes with the praise I usually get during my escapades, babe.” Jungkook winked at you, hand reaching out for another nacho.

“Oh, so I’m assuming you do have sex with other people now. You know, if you’ve just divorced me, you can go live your happy single life again to go to that without any worries.”

“I don’t sleep with other people—”

“But you just said—”

“I meant before I met you.” He pointed out, giving you a look. “Why are you even thinking about that? Are you jealous?”

“God, you’re fucking impossible.” You practically growled. 

He flashed you another smirk, amused.

“Anyhow,” you began, bringing out the divorce papers from your bag that you should have given him the second you saw him, but as what you think was part of his plan, he did manage to stall you in doing so, “here’s the papers.” You shoved it to his chest, rendering Jungkook no choice but to grab it.

He glanced down at them. “You’re never going to stop until I sign these, huh?”

You nodded. “Never.”

“Fine.” Jungkook flickered his gaze on you. “I’ll sign them.”

You glared at him. “Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you?”

You were still suspicious, but at the same time, you had high hopes.

“Yes. But I need to meet Ben the bank clerk first.”

Your spirits dropped. “Oh, no, no, no,” you made a huge cross sign with your arms, “you are not giving me another condition just to go against your word in the end.”

“I won’t this time.”

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed loudly.

It was his turn to narrow his eyes at you. “I’m serious. You want my signature or not?”

You bit the insides of your cheeks, gazing at him.

You were no fool, you knew why he wanted to meet him; you knew that it was because he wanted to see it for himself if the guy you replaced him for was actually more good looking than him or at least appeared as if he could survive a fistfight if Jungkook prompted to start one. It was all testosterone and ego, and you contemplated cutting his balls just to get this over with once and for all.

Surely, by then, he would be more agreeable.

“Fine,” you told him. “If you meet him, you’ll sign the papers? Promise?”

He took a sip of his beer, shrugging. “Sure.”

***

Jungkook watched the scene unfold in front of him with an amused expression.

Although he did admit it once that he did get a bit jealous whenever you gave the other guys more attention than him, he loved his best pals too much to care.

It was why he allowed instances like this to happen wherein you made it apparent that you valued their company much more than you did Jungkook. It was evident in the manner in which you laughed loudly as Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon hugged you, each one of them taking turns in lifting your body off the ground a few seconds in glee.

You were seen as a beloved sister to them as they saw Jungkook as a cherished brother in the Navy.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jungkook reckoned after five seconds.

Namjoon glanced at him, the last one to embrace you. “Jealous?” he teased, reading his mind.

“I am, actually.” Jungkook affirmed. “You three got a better greeting than I did.”

You rolled your eyes at the pettiness of his comment. “That’s because there’s nothing good about seeing you again, Jungkook.”

Jungkook glanced at you. “You wound me, babe.” He placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “Truly, you do.”

The guys stifled a laugh.

Today’s agenda was supposed to be a catch up session with the three guys. News spread quickly yesterday that you were in town thanks to Hoseok, and given that the three of them were good friends of yours, you didn’t decline the offer when Jungkook informed you that they wanted to meet you while you were here.

So, as the next day came in and the evening rolled, they met up with you at the same resto-bar Hoseok found you in. It did seem like the only venue that was both near enough from the academy and the hotel you were staying at that offered adequate food. You observed that the occupants of the place were composed primarily of people wearing naval aviator uniforms or motorcyclists stopping by before going forth with their ride.

“So,” Yoongi began just as Jungkook headed to the counter, volunteering to relay all of your orders to the barmaid, “we heard from a little birdie that you’re seeing someone else.”

You gave him a look. “Still a big gossip, I see.”

“Oh, it’s not counted as gossip if it’s what Jungkook’s been complaining about the whole time at the showers,” Namjoon humored.

Hoseok agreed with a nod. “It’s what he’s been nonstop yapping about earlier when we were flying,” he said. “Seriously, ____. Release the boy from misery and just get back together.”

They watched you grimace. “You all know my relationship with Jungkook has been long complicated for it to be as easy as that.”

“Did he cheat on you?” Namjoon asked.

“No, of course not.” You scoffed. “He’s an annoying shit for the most part but he’s not a cheater.”

He physically relaxed at the confirmation. “Good, because I don’t think I can beat him in a fistfight.”

Yoongi chuckled. “What’s the matter then? You still haven’t spared us any details on why you’re so keen to divorce him.”

“There’s no particular reason,” you sighed with a throw of your hand. “It’s just a compilation of the small things. He’s away most of the time, I’m away most of the time when he’s available—we fight a lot, argue a lot, it just doesn’t seem to be worth fighting for anymore.”

“So, you don’t love him anymore?”

“I…” you trailed, abruptly feeling like you were being interrogated, “I mean, love doesn’t go away easily. And it hasn’t been that long since we called it quits.”

The three men shared a look among themselves.

You straighten your posture. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What does?” Hoseok queried.

“That look you guys just gave each other. I don’t like it.”

“That’s just their faces, babe,” Jungkook reappeared, taking the liberty to take the seat on your right. “What are you fellas talking about?” he asked his buddies.

They didn’t dare utter a word. You were under the impression that they had an understanding between them that talking about your relationship right in Jungkook’s face was something one should not ought to do.

You, on the other hand, took it as your cue to speak, starting another topic to hopefully erase the previous one. “Ben said he can come. He’s boarding tonight,” you told Jungkook as he’s sipping from his glass of service water.

“That’s good.” He didn’t look as interested as he was yesterday.

“Who’s Ben?” It was Hoseok again.

“The bank clerk,” Jungkook answered.

“The new guy you’re seeing?” Yoongi asked you.

“Yep,” you said before turning to Jungkook. “And can you please refer to him by his name? He’s not just a bank clerk.”

“Is he a boring bank clerk?” Jungkook asked, that teasing smirk flashing on his mouth.

“Will he be here tomorrow?” Namjoon chimed in.

You nodded. “Hopefully.”

“Great,” Jungkook placed his glass down on the table. “It’ll be enough time to get to know him.”

He said ‘enough time’ like his time was limited because it really was. He informed you before you parted ways yesterday that he was graduating from the academy this Friday, and that after that, he was almost 100% sure he was going to be deployed again with some of his classmates for a mission that you wouldn’t be allowed to know the details of. 

Your stomach somersaulted when he told you that.

Somehow, despite convincing yourself that you no longer cared for Jungkook, the thought of his life being put at risk again once he was back on the field made you want to vomit in anxiety. It reminded you that his very dangerous occupation was one of the root causes of your separation, for there were months wherein you couldn’t take the fear of waiting in uncertainty on whether he was going to come home to you or not, regardless of how he promised he would every single time.

It was funny, you thought. One of your similarities with your husband was that the both of you were adrenaline junkies. You and him bonded over extreme rides in amusement parks, activities that got your heart pumping and gave you the sensation of being on top of the world—and yet it was the reason why you didn’t want to be with him anymore as well, too scared to continue loving him if he always sought for adventure and danger through being a naval aviator.

“You knew what you were signing up for, ____,” he told you during one of your many arguments. “You entered this relationship knowing the nature of my job. You can’t expect to adjust for you when it comes to—”

“I’m not expecting you to adjust for me, Kook,” you replied in exasperation, practically begging him to listen to you with an open mind at that point. “God, I just want you to consider me. I just want to feel that for once, you actually remember that someone’s always waiting for you to come home.”

Whenever conversations like that popped back inside your memory, you forced yourself to push it away. It wasn’t an experience you wanted to relive. You’ve spent far too many nights just crying because of how it felt like to be in a constant state of worry for the person you found yourself loving the most.

“We can all meet him, right?” asked Hoseok, looking at the other guys for back up. 

You surveyed them, raising your eyebrows before saying your answer.

“Like the hell you would.”

[wosoarsenalsstuff]

Forever a Family

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle x Teen

Y/N sat on her bed, her Barcelona jersey crumpled in her hands. It was a special one—gifted to her by Lucy and Ona on her first day as part of the senior team. The embroidered crest felt heavy now, like it was holding all the emotions she didn’t want to feel.

Lucy was leaving

Her mind spun with questions she couldn’t answer Where would she go for advice when she felt overwhelmed? Who’d make pancakes with Ona on lazy Sunday mornings while teasing her about her messy room ? Who’d cheer her on with that mix of pride and protectiveness that only Lucy had?

A soft knock interrupted her spiraling thoughts. Y/N quickly wiped her eyes.“Y/N?” Ona’s voice came through the door. It was calm, like always, but there was a hint of concern behind it. “Can we come in?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. But she couldn’t ignore Ona—not with the way she always seemed to know exactly when something was wrong.

“Yeah,” she finally mumbled, keeping her gaze fixed on the jersey in her lap.

The door creaked open, and Ona stepped in first. Her eyes softened when she saw Y/N curled up on the bed. Behind her, Lucy stood quietly, looking hesitant—an expression Y/N rarely saw on her face.

Ona sat beside Y/N, resting a hand on her shoulder. Lucy walked over and crouched down in front of her, making herself small in a way that made Y/N’s heart clench.

“Y/N,” Lucy said gently, her voice warm but unsure. “We need to talk about this. About… me leaving.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. “I already know,” she said quickly, her voice cracking. “You’re going to Chelsea. Everyone’s talking about it. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine if it upsets you,” Lucy said immediately. Her tone was firm, but her gaze was soft. “That’s why we wanted to talk to you.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, her hands gripping the jersey. “You’re leaving. It’s gonna be different. And I—I don’t know what’s gonna happen to us.”

Ona gave Lucy a small nod, encouraging her to speak. Lucy let out a breath, sitting down fully on the floor so she could meet Y/N’s eyes.

“Listen to me,” Lucy said, her voice steady but low. “This isn’t about leaving you. You’re family, Y/N. You’ve been family since the day you moved in with us. And nothing—not this transfer, not anything—can change that.”

Y/N bit her lip, her vision blurring with tears. “But you won’t be here anymore,” she whispered. “What if you forget about me?”

Ona’s hand gently rubbed Y/N’s back, her voice quiet but sure. “Lucy’s going to Chelsea because it’s the right move for her career. But that doesn’t mean you’re losing her. And you’ll always have me here. We’re not just your teammates, Y/N. We’re your family. Families stick together.”

Lucy leaned forward, taking Y/N’s hands in hers. “When your parents left, we promised you’d never be alone again. And we meant it. Sure, I’ll be in London, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop annoying you every day or flying back when you need me. You’re stuck with me, kid.”

Y/N sniffled, the tears spilling over despite her best efforts. Ona wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, and Lucy gently squeezed her hands.

“You’ll call, right?” Y/N asked, her voice small.

Lucy smiled softly, her eyes shining with emotion. “Every day, if you want me to. And I’ll make sure you know exactly when I’ll visit. We’ll make it work, I promise.”

Ona pressed a kiss to Y/N’s temple. “You’re not losing us. I’ll make sure Lucy keeps her promises.”

Ona smirked suddenly, breaking the emotional moment. “Besides, Chelsea’s just Lucy’s retirement plan. She’s getting old, Y/N—soon she’ll be creaking more than running.”

“Excuse me?” Lucy shot back, pretending to look offended.

Ona laughed, winking at Y/N. “Don’t worry. When she can’t keep up with the game anymore, she’ll be back here to bother us full-time.”

Y/N burst into laughter, wiping the last of her tears. “Guess I’ll hold you to that, Lucy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucy muttered with a playful glare at Ona. But her grin betrayed her. “Just you wait, Y/N. I’ll be back before you know it—retirement and all.”

And for the first time that day, Y/N felt like things might just be okay.

[thedemoninme141]

The Maiden Of Death Part 2

Summary: You finally needed Wednesday for something and she learns some interesting things about you in exchange and yet she wants to know more.

Part 1

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Wordcount: 5.8K-ish Warnings: Nothing Really? I guess roles reversed by Wednesday getting her feelings hurt just a tiny bit so a little angst?

The walk back from the bus station was a quiet one. Even Enid, who could usually fill any void with her endless chatter, seemed reluctant to speak. She kept glancing at you nervously, as though unsure whether to say something or not. Eugene walked close to her, shielding himself behind her as if you were radiating gamma rays.

You didn’t so much as glance back at the others, walking as if you were alone in the world.

Wednesday lagged behind slightly, her dark eyes fixed on you. Questions churned in her mind, but she knew that asking them outright would show her curiosity. And she would never, under any circumstances, let you know how deeply you intrigued her.

Still, the scene from earlier refused to leave her mind. The way you had dismantled those boys, it wasn’t just violence. It was precision, efficiency, calculated as if you had done this hundreds of times before.

But what stuck out the most was what she didn’t see. You hadn’t conjured any weapons. You hadn’t used whatever strange ability had allowed you to summon a parrying knife in the library.

Why?

The question burned at the edges of her thoughts. She tried to dismiss it at first, reasoning that it was none of her concern. But the more she tried to push it away, the more it consumed her. If you could summon a weapon in an instant, why bother with a bat and a chain? Why risk getting your hands dirty when you didn’t have to?

Without realizing it, she had quickened her pace and was now walking beside you. Your focus was still straight ahead as if you knew Wednesday is going to ask something.

The quiet stretched between you two, until Wednesday broke it.

“Why didn’t you just conjure a weapon?”

The question was direct, delivered with her usual bluntness.

You didn’t respond. You didn’t even glance her way.

Wednesday’s irritation flared. “It would have been faster. Cleaner. More effective.”

Still, you said nothing.

Enid and Eugene exchanged worried glances behind you. They really don't want to be caught between crossfire.

“Are you going to ignore me?” Wednesday pressed.

You finally stopped walking. Turning slightly, you met her gaze with a calmness that bordered on unsettling. For a moment, Wednesday thought you might ignore her again. But then, in a voice devoid of emotion, you said, “I can conjure weapons that I’ve… earned. Weapons that have accepted me. All of them are lethal.”

You didn’t elaborate. You didn’t explain. You simply turned and continued walking, leaving her standing there with more questions than answers.

Wednesday followed in silence, her mind racing. What did you mean by “earned”? And what exactly did a weapon have to do to “accept” someone?

She wanted to push further, to demand an explanation, but she stopped herself. It wasn’t hesitation, she told herself. It was strategy. She would learn the truth eventually, there was no need to rush.

But as she watched you walking ahead, your shoulders relaxed, your posture indifferent, Wednesday couldn’t shake the feeling that you were hiding something. Something deeper. Darker.

You were a puzzle, and Wednesday Addams would solve you.

No one exchanged a word until the four of you reached the main building. You walked away from the group without so much as a glance back. No goodbye, no acknowledgment of the people who had trailed after you all day.

Enid watched you go, a small frown tugging at her lips. “She could’ve at least said bye,” Enid sighed and nudged Wednesday. “C’mon, let’s go. I’m exhausted, and you’ve probably got some brooding to do or whatever.”

They walked in silence back to their shared dorm room. Enid occasionally glanced at Wednesday, her lips twitching as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it.

When they finally reached their room, Enid flopped onto her bed with a dramatic groan.

“I don’t even know where to start,” she said, stretching her arms above her head. “Y/N is just… wow. She’s like… you but not you. Does that make sense?”

Wednesday didn’t respond. She was already at her desk, pulling out a book and flipping it open. But despite her best efforts, the words on the page blurred together, her focus slipping.

“She’s so quiet,” Enid continued, propping herself up on her elbows. “Like, quieter than you, and I didn’t think that was possible."

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the edge of her book.

“Did you see how she looked at those guys? Like they were… I don’t know, bugs or something. And then wham! Down they went. I mean, I get it, they deserved it, but still.”

“She handled it,” Wednesday said finally, her voice flat.

Enid rolled her eyes. “Yeah, she handled it, but it was… intense. And you don’t think I didn’t notice you staring the whole time."

“I wasn’t staring,” Wednesday snapped, her tone defensive.

Enid smirked, sitting up fully now. “Oh, you were staring. I don’t blame you, though. She’s… interesting. In a creepy, mysterious way. I mean, you two could totally be related or something. Have you asked your parents if you lost a twin or something?"

Wednesday ignored her, her eyes fixed on the pages of her book, though she hadn’t absorbed a single word.

The truth was, Enid wasn’t entirely wrong. You were interesting, irritatingly so. You were like a distorted mirror image of her, similar in some ways but fundamentally different in others. The quiet, the detachment, the sharpness, it all felt too familiar and yet so different.

As the night wore on, Enid sat cross-legged on her bed with her laptop, scrolling through social media and occasionally humming under her breath. Wednesday remained at her desk, engrossed in her book, though her thoughts strayed far from the text.

“Huh,” Enid said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“What?” Wednesday asked without looking up.

“Of course Y/N doesn’t have anything social. Can’t find her anywhere.” Enid frowned at her screen, scrolling furiously. “No Instagram, no Snapchat. It’s like she doesn’t exist. Does she even have a phone?”

“Maybe she doesn't want to be a slave to modern technology either,” Wednesday said coolly, though the revelation piqued her interest. "And why are you so concerned with finding her online?”

“Why are you so concerned with finding her online?” “Because I wanted to write a blog post about her!!!” Enid said, her eyes wide with excitement. “And, don’t you want to know more about her? Where she’s from? Why she’s here? What her deal is?”

Of course Wednesday wanted to know. She just wasn’t about to admit that to Enid.

Instead, she closed her book with a deliberate snap and said, “If she wanted us to know, she would have told us.”

“Or maybe she’s waiting for someone to ask her,” Enid countered.

Wednesday didn’t reply. For a moment, she let herself imagine what it would be like to ask you. How she would ask you. The thought annoyed her. She wasn’t supposed to care about such things. And yet, here she was, her mind tangled up in questions about you, questions she didn’t know how to ask, questions she wasn’t even sure you’d answer.

The calculated knocks startled neither of them, it was gentle but deliberate, three slow raps against the wood. Enid glanced up first. “Uh, I'll go get it.”

She hopped up and padded to the door, opening it cautiously. Her eyes widened when she saw you standing there, hands tucked into the pockets of your black hoodie.

“Is Wednesday here?” you asked.

Enid blinked, clearly surprised, before nodding and stepping aside, opening the door wider. Wednesday finally turned in her seat, and there you stood… you didn’t step in.

Wednesday’s dark eyes narrowed, reading your body language in an instant. You wanted to speak to her, but not here, not with Enid present. She closed her book before standing and as she passed Enid, she motioned with a small, firm gesture for her roommate to stay inside and close the door.

She stepped out into the hall, brushing past you with just enough space to show her own sense of control. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even seem fazed as Enid let out a defeated sigh and shut the door behind them.

The hall was empty, silent. You didn’t waste time. “There’s another library in Nevermore.” It wasn’t a question. “Where is it?”

The Nightshade Library. Hidden deep within Nevermore, its entrance disguised behind one of the worst puzzles she has ever solved, "Snap twice", Couldn't they make it a bit more challenging?

“Why do you think I would know where it is?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

You tilted your head slightly, as if evaluating her. “Because if anyone knows, it’s you.”

The faintest flicker of satisfaction crossed Wednesday’s face. She liked being recognized for her intellect, especially by you.... wait what?

“And if I did know?” she countered. “Why would I share that information with you?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you leaned against the wall, your dark eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her feel, for the first time in a long while, as if someone were looking through her rather than at her.

“What do you want?” you asked finally, your voice low and measured.

Wednesday hesitated. She could deny her curiosity, feign disinterest, but she knew you would see through it. So she decided on honesty, or at least a version of it.

“I’ve solved enough mysteries to recognize one when I see it,” she said, her tone steady. “And you, Y/n, are a mystery. You’re here for something. At first, I suspected it was something sinister, but…” Her lips twitched ever so slightly, not quite a smile. “Your actions at the shop earlier today disproved that theory. Not that I’m impressed or anything.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, to Wednesday’s surprise, your lips curved into a faint smirk.

“One good deed doesn’t fix a thousand sins, Wednesday,” you said.

It was the first time she had seen you smirk, and something about it unsettled her. It wasn’t the smirk itself, it was the fact that it felt… earned. As if it was meant for her and her alone.

And it lingered only for a sceond before fading.

“I’ll make you a deal,” you said. “I’ll tell you about me. Not everything, but enough to satisfy your curiosity. How much depends on how much you help me get what I need.”

Wednesday’s brows knitted together, her mind working rapidly to process your words. This was a gamble, a game of secrets and trust or lack thereof. And yet, she found herself intrigued.

“Very well,” she said finally. “But don’t think for a moment that I’ll be satisfied with scraps. If I’m helping you, I’ll expect substance, not crumbs.”

You didn’t respond, but something in your gaze shifted, a silent acknowledgment of her terms. Without another word, you turned and began walking down the hall.

Wednesday followed, her steps light and deliberate, her mind churning with questions. What were you looking for in the Nightshade Library? Why were you so guarded? And why... why did she feel something seeing your smirk?

The statue of Edgar Allan Poe was just ahead as the two of you stopped.

Wednesday stepped forward, she glanced at you, her dark eyes daring you to comment. You remained expressionless, giving her nothing, as always.

She snapped her fingers twice.

The faint clicking of mechanisms echoed, and the statue shifted. Its heavy base slid back, revealing a dark staircase spiraling downward.

Neither of you spoke as you made your way down the stairs.

Once at the center of the library, Wednesday turned to face you. “What are you looking for?”

“That’s not part of the deal.” You said as your eyes were scanning the shelves, skipping over rows of books as though you instinctively knew what you sought. She internally sighed for even offering to help.

It didn’t take long. Your gaze landed on a dusty, leather-bound tome nestled deep in the recesses of a high shelf. The book was thick and worn, and it was tightly bound by some sort of green metallic wires. It was dusty, untouched for ages like most of the books here.

As you reached for it, Wednesday approached, her curiosity clearly piqued. She peered over your shoulder as you pulled the book free, revealing its cracked and worn leather cover etched with strange, arcane symbols. You carried it to a nearby table and set it down carefully, your fingers brushing away the layers of dust.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Before you could answer or more likely refuse to answer, a faint sound from behind you drew your attention.

Without hesitation, you conjured a katana in one fluid motion. You spun on your heel, the blade slicing through the air, and lunged.

The blade sang through the air as you moved with precision, grabbing the intruder and shoving him against the bookshelves. Xavier’s mask clattered to the ground as he struggled against your grip, your blade pressed firmly against his throat.

“Wait, wait, wait! Stop! Whoa! Whoa!” Xavier stammered, his wide eyes darting between the blade and your impassive face.

Wednesday smirked, crossing her arms as she observed the scene. “You shouldn’t have stopped,” she mocked dryly. “Xavier could use an upgrade. He might finally get the touch he needs so much! Getting rid of his face.”

Xavier shot her a panicked glance. “Not helping, Wednesday!”

One by one, they all came out, the members of nightshade society—Bianca, Ajax, Yoko, Kent and Divina.

“You can’t just bring whoever you want down here,” Bianca snapped. “This place is supposed to be a secret.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, her smirk deepening. “Clearly, it’s not much of a secret if you’re the ones guarding it.”

Bianca shot her a warning look before turning her gaze to you. “You don’t belong here,” Bianca said, her voice cold. “And in case you didn’t know, Ajax can stone you, and Yoko is faster than you’ll ever be. So I’d think twice before trying anything.”

You didn’t even flinch. Instead, you tilted your head slightly and replied in an even, calm tone, “Do you want to try?”

The group exchanged uncertain glances. Wednesday noted the faint flicker of fear in their eyes, a reaction she found... satisfying.

Yoko stepped forward, chuckling softly. “I’m not faster than you. Don’t mind Bianca; she’s still feisty from getting beaten by you in fencing.” She shot a playful look at Bianca, who scowled in response. Yoko’s grin awkwardly widened as she pulled Bianca back, making way for you.

“By the way,” Yoko added, glancing at Xavier, who was still pinned to the bookshelf, “can I make a tiny request? Not really important, but maybe let go of him before he has a heart attack?”

Your gaze shifted to Xavier, the look in your eyes promising, If you try that again, I won’t stop my sword next time. Slowly, you pulled the blade back as it vanished into the air as you unconjured it.

Without sparing another glance at the group, you reached for the book, tucking it under your arm as you turned to leave.

Wednesday followed, pausing only to glance over her shoulder at the stunned group. “I’d say it was nice catching up, but I’d be lying.”

You didn’t speak as Wednesday walked behind you. She didn’t expect you to. But the weight of unanswered questions was pressing on her. Finally, she broke it.

“What’s in the book?” she asked,

“Information,” you replied simply.

She frowned slightly, pressing further. “Information about what?”

“Not me.”

The two words were curt, but their meaning was clear. Wednesday’s mind immediately clicked back to the terms of your deal. She had taken you to the Nightshade Library, and in return, you had promised to answer her questions about yourself. But this book wasn’t part of that exchange. It was something else entirely.

“Fine,” Wednesday said “Now it’s my part of the deal. I ask you questions about yourself, and you answer truthfully. Do not attempt to lie. I can tell the difference.”

Finally, you stopped and turned. There was something unreadable in your expression—calm, detached, as always, but then it shifted. Slowly, deliberately, your lips curled into the faintest smirk. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Wednesday caught it.

That smirk.

She hadn’t seen any emotion on your face Enid had tried to engage you, when the Nightshade Society had surrounded you with suspicion and hostility. She had only seen it when it was only you and her, it was there, just for her.

It was... unsettling.

Before Wednesday could dwell on it, your voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Ask your questions and be done with it.”

Wednesday’s fingers twitched behind her back as her mind raced through the countless questions she wanted to ask. But she knew she had to start somewhere.

“Why are you really here?”

You raised an eyebrow.

"What did you do at your last school to get transferred here, or did you come willingly?” she elaborated.

“I came willingly,” you said without hesitation, your voice calm, as if the answer was obvious.

“Why?” she pressed.

“I had work.”

“Work?”

“Demon hunting.”

It was so matter-of-fact, so devoid of emotion, that Wednesday was momentarily speechless. She blinked, half-expecting that smirk to return, telling her it was sarcasm. But you didn’t. Your face remained neutral, your posture relaxed yet guarded, as if you had just told her something as mundane as the weather forecast.

“What… what does that mean?” she asked, her voice quieter but no less intense.

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” you said evenly. “I get hired to hunt demons. My father trained me.”

The words landed with an almost tangible weight. Wednesday prided herself on her composure, but even she found it difficult to mask the intrigue and unease bubbling inside her.

Her mind raced. Demon hunting? It sounded absurdly dangerous, but the calmness with which you spoke of it suggested otherwise. Still, she found herself grappling with the idea of someone her age taking on such a task.

“How old are you?” she blurted before she could stop herself. She instantly hated how curious she sounded, but the question lingered nonetheless.

You rolled your eyes, the closest thing to irritation she’d seen from you. “I age normally. I’m your age.”

It was such a simple answer, but it left her with more questions than before. Why would someone your age be hunting demons? Why would your father send you to Nevermore now? And more importantly, why did you move through the world with such deadly precision, like you were always preparing for the next fight?

“Why do you hunt demons?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost hesitant.

You didn’t answer immediately. For a moment, you simply looked at her, your expression unreadable. Then, finally, you said, “I think the questions you’ve asked are enough payment for your assistance.”

It wasn’t a refusal, but it was a wall, just like the one's she has built around herself. You weren’t going to answer. Not now. And yet, the way you avoided the question only made her more determined to uncover the truth. Wednesday wasn’t used to being denied, and she found the challenge you presented both infuriating and... intriguing.

She followed you silently as you began walking again, her gaze flicking to the book in your hands.

“Demons,” she finally said, her voice slicing through the quiet. “What are they exactly? Giant monsters? Beasts with claws and fangs? Creatures of folktales?”

You didn’t answer as if her words had evaporated into the night air.

The lack of response was infuriating and Wednesday wasn’t even surprised. She had expected resistance. Still, she persisted. “You claim to hunt them. Surely you can describe what it is you face. Or do you find it amusing to leave me in ignorance?”

Again, you didn’t respond, and Wednesday’s jaw tightened. Her dark eyes flicked to the book you held, its worn cover and metallic bindings catching the faint light. Now the book intrigued her just as much as you did.

Her mind raced with possibilities. She couldn’t simply take the book from you; you would sense her intent before she could act.

Dispatching Thing to steal it was out of the question as well. She could already envision the outcome: you sensing Thing’s presence, catching him mid-act, and possibly doing something drastic. The way you had nearly sliced Xavier’s throat in the blink of an eye without any hesitation just for sneaking up on you... No, she couldn’t risk Thing. She would need another way to learn more.

Her voice cut through the silence again. “Your swordsmanship, was that something your father taught you?”

This time, you slowed your steps, just enough for her to notice. For a fleeting moment, something flickered in your eyes, an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“No,” you said simply. “I figured that out.”

Wednesday’s brows knitted together in disbelief. “You figured that out?” she repeated, her tone laced with skepticism. “No one simply ‘figures out’ swordsmanship. It takes years of training, discipline—”

You interrupted her “I figured it out,” you repeated, leaving no room for argument.

Frustration simmered beneath Wednesday’s composed exterior. Your cryptic responses were as infuriating as they were intriguing. She couldn’t fathom how someone could master a skill like that without instruction. But then, nothing about you followed conventional logic.

The two of you reached the steps to Ophelia Hall, for a moment, it seemed the conversation was over, but Wednesday’s curiosity refused to let her remain silent.

When the hallway to her dorm came into view, her frustration boiled into something she rarely allowed herself to feel: desperation. You had what you wanted now. There was no more reason for you to seek her out, no leverage she could use to force you into another exchange.

This was it.

For the first time, Wednesday Addams felt the sting of helplessness. And she hated it.

As you turned to leave, something in her snapped. “Wait.”

You paused, glancing over your shoulder. “What?”

Her mind scrambled for something, anything to keep the conversation from ending. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. “Show me.”

“Show you what?”

“The way you beat me,” she clarified, her tone sharpening as if to mask the vulnerability behind her request. “During our last fencing match.”

You turned fully now, facing her.

She continued, her voice cool and measured. “I know how to handle a rapier. I’ve studied various forms of swordsmanship. But the technique you used—it's unlike anything I’ve seen. It could prove… useful.”

“Useful?” you repeated, your tone neutral but tinged with curiosity

Wednesday hesitated for a fraction of a second, but she quickly masked it coming up with something. “Yes. I’ve been meaning to put Bianca in her place again. Your technique might be just the thing to humiliate her properly.”

“And what makes you think I’d teach you?”

She rolled her eyes as her tone sharpened. “It’s not a matter of ‘teaching.’ You wouldn’t need to explain. I can observe. All I need is for you to demonstrate. You seem to enjoy a challenge. Consider this one.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying her. The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, and Wednesday felt her irritation flare. That expression again. She hated how it made her feel—off-balance, as though you were the one dissecting her.

“I’ll think about it,” you said at last.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting right now,” you replied.

You turned without another word, continuing down the hall toward your dorm. Wednesday remained rooted to the spot. Her thoughts spiraled, replaying every word, every glance, every flicker of emotion you had allowed her... only her to see.

She had what she wanted, another thread to pull, another opportunity to uncover more about you. But even as she told herself it was all for the sake of satisfying her curiosity, a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered otherwise.

She ignored it. Or at least, she tried to.

When Wednesday stepped into her room, Enid bolted upright in her bed,

“Wednesday! Oh my god, you’re finally back!” Enid whisper-yelled, her voice a mix of relief and exasperation. She clutched her phone like it was her emotional support animal.

“I was so scared you were out there doing something... you know... Wednesday-ish. And with Y/N? Are you kidding me? I thought for sure I was gonna get a text saying you’d been arrested. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” Wednesday finally replied, “that I do not require your approval or your concern.”

Enid huffed, crossing her arms over her pink top, “Well, someone has to worry about you because you clearly don’t!” She paused, “Anyway... how was the date?”

Wednesday froze mid-step as she turned to face Enid. “Excuse me?”

“The date,” Enid said, emphasizing the word with a mischievous grin. “You know, you and Y/N, sneaking off together into the night, exchanging cryptic looks and intense vibes. Classic romance. Sooo... how did it go?”

Wednesday glared at her, the look sharp enough to cut glass. “It wasn’t a date, Enid. It was an interrogation. One that, I might add, yielded frustratingly little information.”

Enid flopped back onto her bed dramatically, groaning. “Ugh, you’re no fun. How can it not be a date? I mean, the two of you are so...” She gestured vaguely, her hands mimicking some kind of explosion. “...tension-y.”

“Tension-y is not a word,” Wednesday deadpanned, moving toward her wardrobe to retrieve her nightclothes. She disappeared behind the changing screen, her voice carrying through. “And whatever you imagine my interactions with Y/N to be, I assure you, they are nothing of the sort. It was just an exchange of information, nothing more.”

“You’re no fun. Fine, it wasn’t a date. But you can’t deny there’s something going on between you two. Totally intense. And you-”

“Enough, Enid,” Wednesday cut her off, climbing into bed. “If you insist on fantasizing about my personal life, at least do so silently. I require rest.”

Enid rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fine, fine. Goodnight, Wens. Sweet dreams of a certain someone.”

Wednesday groaned internally as she closed her eyes, letting the darkness of sleep swallow her. But even as her mind began to drift, she couldn’t help but replay your last words to her: “I’ll think about it.”

Wednesday’s gaze flicked over the students passing by. You should be here, she thought, where are you?

“You’re weirdly quiet this morning,” Enid noted, glancing at Wednesday as they approached their table with breakfast “Not that you’re usually a chatterbox, but still.”

“I was reflecting on the peaceful silence I enjoyed before you began speaking,” Wednesday replied dryly.

Enid rolled her eyes but let it slide. The two of them sat down, Enid immediately reaching for the stack of waffles in front of her.

“So,” Enid began between bites " I was thinking-"

"Truly a groundbreaking moment in history." Wednesday muttered.

“Ha ha,” Enid said sarcastically. “As I was saying, the Poe Cup is coming up, and we need to form a team.”

Wednesday sipped her coffee, unimpressed. “You mean, you need to form a team. I’m not interested.”

“Oh, come on!” Enid said, pouting. “Last year was so much fun, and we actually won! Don’t you want to keep the streak alive?”

“No.”

“Please? Pretty please?” Enid got out her puppy eyes.

Wednesday sighed, setting her cup down with more force than necessary. “Why don’t you find someone else? I have better things to do.”

“Well,” Enid said, fidgeting with her fork, “that’s the thing. One of the girls on our team transferred out after all the drama last year. So... we’re already down a person even if you join.”

“Tragic,” Wednesday said dryly.

"And everyone seems too afraid to participate, no one seems to come up... So I was actually thinking about asking Y/N to join too.”

Wednesday froze. Slowly, she turned to face Enid, her eyes narrowing. “You were planning to ask her?”

“Yeah,” Enid said brightly, oblivious to Wednesday’s sudden tension. “I mean, if she says yes, you and her in the same team? We will have the most unstoppable team in Nevermore history. And if she says no... well, I’ll just have to work extra hard to convince her.”

Wednesday didn’t respond, her mind preoccupied with conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, she had no desire to participate in another Poe Cup. On the other, the idea of you aligning with Enid’s cheerful chaos—and possibly bonding with her—left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

Finally, Enid broke the silence. “So? Are you in?”

She let out a tired sigh. “Fine. I’ll join your team. But only because your incessant whining is insufferable.”

Enid beamed, clapping her hands together. “Yes! You won’t regret it, Wens. We’re going to crush everyone. And when Y/N joins, it’ll be game over for the competition.”

Wednesday didn’t share Enid’s enthusiasm, but she couldn’t deny a flicker of curiosity. If you agreed to join the team, it would be yet another opportunity to observe you up close, to understand what makes you- you.

“Ready to lose, Addams?” Bianca asked, adjusting her grip.

“I don’t lose. I simply assess flaws in my opponents’ technique until they defeat themselves.”  Wednesday replied, stepping into position.

Strike, parry, lunge—her movements were precise, calculated, and relentless. But even as she focused on the match, her thoughts were elsewhere.

Where are you?

You weren't at breakfast, You hadn’t appeared for fencing class. She told herself it was curiosity, maybe her need for a rematch, nothing more. But the faint pang of disappointment at not seeing you was a feeling she couldn’t entirely suppress.

Bianca’s blade grazed Wednesday’s shoulder, snapping her attention back to the match.

“Distracted today, Addams?” Bianca taunted, taking the advantage to press forward.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. She wouldn’t allow anyone, least of all Bianca, to expose a moment of weakness. With a swift disengage and a perfectly timed riposte, she scored a touch on Bianca’s chest, earning a point.

“Hardly,” Wednesday replied, her voice icy.

The match ended in her victory, as expected, but it felt hollow. Even as she returned her rapier to its rack and packed away her gear, her mind kept circling back to you.

Alchemy class had started precisely ten minutes ago. Wednesday sat at her station, her notebook open and pen poised, ready to absorb whatever instruction was given. Despite her usual attentiveness, her gaze kept flicking to the door.

It wasn’t until the teacher began explaining the chemical interactions of reagents in transmutation circles then you finally entered.

You walked in as if you owned the room. No apology, no explanation. Your footsteps were measured, calm, as though arriving late was entirely intentional. The other students turned to look, whispering to one another, but you ignored them all. And took the empty seat beside Wednesday.

She waited for you to offer some explanation, but none came.

Finally, she leaned slightly toward you, her voice low enough not to attract attention. “Where were you?”

Without even looking at her, you replied, “I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”

The curt dismissal sent a flicker of irritation through her. She narrowed her eyes, studying your profile.

“Interesting,” Wednesday said, her tone flat but with a razor’s edge. “Your penchant for evasion is almost as impressive as your talent for making enemies.”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to inform you of my every move. Should I start providing hourly updates?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it weren’t relevant,” Wednesday countered.

"I fail to see how my schedule has any bearing on your life.” you replied, turning your attention to the potion ingredients laid out in front of you.

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around her pen.

After last night, she had thought they had... progressed, in some way. Not to friendship, she didn’t entertain such trivialities, but to something more than this cold indifference.

Evidently, she was wrong.

She turned her attention back to the professor, though her thoughts remained stubbornly fixed on you.

When class ended, Wednesday packed her things with more force than necessary. You, as usual, seemed unbothered, moving at your own unhurried pace.

She considered leaving without a word, but the thought of you dismissing her again was unbearable.

As the two of you exited the classroom, she matched your stride.

She didn’t speak immediately, her mind grappling with the questions swirling in her head.

Finally, she broke the silence. “About last night.”

“What about it?” you asked, not looking at her.

“I thought we had reached some… understanding,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

You finally turned to look at her, your eyes sharp and unyielding. “I told you what I’d tell you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Her jaw tightened. “And the demonstration you promised?”

“I didn’t promise anything,” you said evenly. “I said I’d think about it.”

“And?” she pressed.

“I haven’t had time to think about it,” you replied, your tone dismissive.

“You seemed to have plenty of time last night.” she said.

Your lips quirked slightly, not quite a smirk but close. “You think too highly of yourself if you believe I’ve spent the entire night pondering your request. And now that I do think about it, I don’t see why it matters. You’re not worth wasting my time.”

The words struck Wednesday harder than she expected. She kept her face impassive, but inside, a strange, unfamiliar ache bloomed. Her jaw tightened, her fists clenching at her sides. She hated the way her chest ached, hated the vulnerability that threatened to surface.

But she would never let you see it.

“I see,” Wednesday said finally, her voice icy. “Then perhaps I shouldn’t waste any more of your valuable time.” Without waiting for a response, she quickened her pace, leaving you behind. Behind her, your steps slowed, and she resisted the urge to look back.

Botany class passed in a blur for Wednesday. The usually calming task of handling deadly poisonous plants gave no solace. Her mind churned with your words, replaying them over and over. She hated how much they stung, hated the power you seemed to wield over her thoughts.

And yet, when class ended, you approached her.

“Meet me behind the greenhouse,” you said, your voice low and deliberate. “After the sun falls.”

Before she could respond, you turned and walked away. She hated how you left her with more questions than answers. But despite herself, she knew she would meet you.

[A/n: Tried another new route, in most fics I see that it is the reader character who earns Wednesday's smile, so I thought I should reverse the roles a bit, how did you guys like this one?]

Taglist: @rqizzu @sevyscoven @kingoftheracoons @masterofpuppets-10 @alexkolax

[aplaceforhumancorpses]

🍵༘PANCAKES🥯⊹ ࣪ ˖

„⤵ MILD ANGST and fluff! „⤵ 2 / (?) PARTS „⤵ JASON TODD X READER Jason is getting settled in his new home, after showing up at your door last night. Jason is a dead man walking, but he still needs you. Read PT 1 here! AFFECTION ROTS Reblogs much appreciated

The two of you eventually found the couch. You sat next to him, putting a throw pillow's distance between the two of you. Much to his disappointment. Jason was more clingy then he had ever been before. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. A few hours passed. You had both fallen asleep sometime after midnight. That morning he explained everything as best as he could to you, his death at the hands of the joker, the crowbar, the ressurection. Despite the granted confusion you followed as best you could. He told you everything. Everything that happened from the moment he died. He really missed you, despite the two of you being dumb in love teeangers. He still saw a future with you, and you were wary to admit you weren't sure you saw the same. He was diffrerent. Bigger, taller, stronger. And somehow more alive, than anything before. “I'm sorry." You managed to say. You felt like such a coward. You couldn't handle touching him, or holding his hand.

“I can't blame you. It'll take some time." He said sadly. You could see in his eyes that he was blaming himself. "You're doing great… I really am proud of you. Just wish we could've done all this… together, y'know?" he said the last part quietly, almost a whisper. You looked down, unable to hold eye contact.

"Things are a little bit different now. You know that right? I can't change my past. Even though I'd like to." You spoke slowly. "You know, it's gonna take some time. I don't regret our relationship. Never have."

”You're serious, huh?" he raised an eyebrow. It was nearly commical. You were devestating him with every word you spoke. "I wanted us to do this forever, you know? Like… forever. You've always been on my mind.. guess I should've known things weren't gonna stay the same. You're not fifteen anymore.." he mumbled.

He had a faraway look in his eye. You wondered how much of this story he had clearly made up inside his mind depended on you reciprocating his tender feelings. But you knew this was his way of trying to comfort you, despite his broken soul. He would give you time… "Do you remember our first date?" He suddenly asked. He smiled shyly, looking down at his lap. The image came unbidden to your mind, vivid and perfect. You remembered how much effort he put into planning. He was more thorough then any man. He was attentive, and a good listener. So why were you hesitant..? Maybe it was his dependency. “Um. Yes I remember- Um.. do you want breakfast?.." You said weakly, standing up and turning towards the kitchen, leaving him to his own thoughts. "I can make us something quick…" You heard him sigh in disappointment. When you finally turned around again, his elbows were on his knees. He was curled into himself. You knew he was trying to be strong. But it was hard to admire his strengths when he looked so pitiful.. It broke your heart. "I'm making pancakes.. Do you want some? They're grainy but- edible." You offered hesitantly.

“Yeah.. sounds good.” His voice cracked. He didn’t have a good relationship with food. After the truama of his death and even before that with the joker, he hadn’t been hungry at all. He never wanted food.. and when he did it threw it up promptly. Food always felt unsafe to him. And that included food cooked by you.. which seemed ironic, because he would have worshipped the ground beneath you if you asked him to.

He wondered if he watched the whole process of cooking from start to finish if he would feel better about it. He could trick his brain into understanding he was safe.

“God you’re so gorgeous..” He sighed. “I’m tired of falling for you all over again… s’not fair. Why can’t I have you?” You paused, setting the pan on the stove as it heated up. Melting the butter into a bubbly golden liquid. There was no denying he had changed a lot. He went from 4”6 to an even 6 foot. You could see the stretch marks that painted his hips whenever he lifted his arms up. Despite your ‘disinterest’ in him romantically, you would still take small peeks and glances whenever his shirt rode up, revealing some of the new muscle he had gained.

His sudden growth wasn’t unwelcome, it was just shocking that he had grown that much within the span of a few years. Especially considering he had always been smaller than you.

But you had accepted his advances with only halfhearted interest. Even if he was a handsome behemoth of a man today. But it was hard to deny the fact that when he looked at you like he did now, you felt a lingering warmth.

He hadn’t lost his charm. He still knew how to make you blush and smile. But maybe you were too afraid of losing what you shared with him.. again..

As you began making the pancake mix he kept his gaze trained on you and the food. He was obviously enthralled with it.. “I like strawberries.” He smiled softly, watching you work through the recipe. He’d always loved watching you cook. It reminded him of home.. it was vaguely reminiscent of Alfred. Even if he hated the Waynes he still missed having a family. “They remind me of you.” He continued. “Those soft, shiny pinkish red ones…” You nodded along to his words. He was always so sentimental.. “They smell like spring.” He added, smiling slightly. You felt yourself relax at his words. He could be sweet sometimes, despite the fact he was now, 10x his size, strength, and power. He was probably better at a lot of things now, you didn’t want to know what he would do to any of the failed relationships you had in your contacts still... But it was clear he still had that innocent side that you once loved. Jason was like weathered plastic in the garden, his old self was fading, but the spots where the sunlight hadn’t burned away the old Jason todd were still as vibrant and tender as ever. He seemed happier than usual too. His cheeks had begun to lighten up again, his skin seemed to glow from just having seen you again.

The food was ready, and you brought him over to the table. “I’m not an amazing cook, but I hope it’s okay….” You handed him the fork. He was silent for a while, staring at the plate in front of him.

“I uh.. I’m usually not so good with food but this does look really good I promise. It feels like I constantly have the flu. My mind is all fucking broken.."

"You deserve a break." You said, sitting opposite of him across the table. Your fingers intertwined tightly with your own beneath the table, under the table. You tried to suppress your nerves. He needed comfort and support now, you couldn't give him more. "You're here.. With me.. That's something." You said, trying to encourage him.

“I still want you. So bad..” He mumbled. His fork clinked against his plate as he set it down gently. You took a deep breath. You didn’t know what to say. You weren’t ready to talk about your problem with the matter of your relationship. You just wanted him to eat, and try to get better..

“Jason-“ You warned.

“Do you still love me?” He interrupted. He was trying to sound calm, but he was clearly agitated. The question threw you off guard. He looked at you with wide, desperate eyes. “Answer honestly. I need to know.” You hesitated.

“Yes.” You answered truthfully, not able to hide the hurt on your face.

“You don’t even want to touch me…” he muttered dejectedly.

“You died- I was at your funeral.. I don’t understand how your here right now..” you said firmly. “I’m just… confused, ok? I thought I understood everything..” You were trembling. You knew he saw, he understood. You didn’t know how to deal with the guilt gnawing at your stomach.. You hated seeing him this upset. “I miss you..” he whispered, staring at you with pleading eyes.

You lowered your gaze and shook your head. “I’m sorry- you.. Do you have a place to stay?..”

“Are you kicking me out?..”

“Well no- but I feel bad for making you sleep on the couch.” You explained. “You’ve done nothing wrong.. I’m sorry… do you want to stay?”

He remained silent and slowly ate the food placed in front of him. His lips forming into a thin line. He looked exhausted. But he was eating the meal you had made, albeit reluctantly and very slowly. It took him about 20 minutes, as he finished every bite without looking up or saying a word.

“Yeah. I want to stay here for a bit.” He replied after he finished chewing. You nodded, relieved. He pushed back the chair and stood up. He looked exhausted.

“I’ll get you some blankets.” You said quietly, walking back to your room to bring some out to him. While searching your closet, you heard soft footsteps behind you. Your body froze for a split second. Just Jason.. Just Jason…. Then you relaxed. You pulled out two fluffy blankets. You walked back towards him, throwing them over his shoulders. He let out a content sigh at the warmth. “It smells like you…” he mused. He looked so at peace. Like you had injected life into him for the first time since he got here.

He grabbed one pillow from your bed and squeezed it. He closed his eyes, feeling the soft material against his skin. You couldn’t help but smile softly. He looked at you like you hung the moon in the sky. A sense of wonder and relief washing over his features. He turned to the doorway, making his way to the living room.

The television flickered dimly on your TV stand. Your DVD’s stacked high, mostly disney and other classics. “I love you so much..” he murmured, looking around your home.

“I…” You paused. “Know.. you do..” you trailed off, not knowing how else to respond. It felt weird hearing those words come from him. You spent nights hoping to hear those exact words just.. one more time. Hearing them now..

“Where were you?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming guilt weighing down your chest.

“Oh y’know…” He shrugged. “Just…” he laughed awkwardly before sitting down on the couch. “Just running around doing shit. Nothing serious.” He admitted. “But I was able to find you eventually. I actually used to sit in the parking lot and stare at your apartment door, waiting for you to open it..” he looked embarrassed to admit that, scratching the side of his jaw. You chuckled lightly at that image. “You should have seen it, though! I sat there until my legs went numb and then I finally decided to walk away because I felt kinda creepy sitting there watching like that..” He grinned, remembering how pathetic and childish it sounded. “But, I had to see you last night. I had to talk to you... See how you were...” He said, sadly. “God…I’m really messed up.” He sighed, dropping his gaze onto the floor. You frowned as you noticed his mood swing.

“I missed you too-… I’m glad you’re back, and I’m sorry I’m being so cold.” You apologised.

He gave you an understanding glance, “you can be pretty difficult to read these days.. I just.. I hope you can understand my intentions. I still want you.”

“Night Jay.” You stood up, attempting to run away from the topic. “I have class in the morning. I gotta get some sleep. I have a presentation coming up.” You walked towards the bedroom, but stopped. You didn’t want to leave him alone yet. What happened wasn’t fair. “I’ll be back around 12 or so.. tomorrow.”

“Goodnight baby.” He sighed, laying down on the couch. You smiled at his nickname.

He stayed sleeping in his makeshift bed the whole evening, until 4 am or so when he slipped out from the blankets and into your room. He was just getting up to check on you, but eventually it became him… getting a closer look.. getting in bed. and passing out next to you. These blankets were big enough to cover him completely, no cold feet. There was barely any distance between you.

“Night..” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. He laid down facing away from you, but in his mind he was holding you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you. ...

[toxycodone]

you should most definitely do a ‘dad’ curly body inspection fic,,, I mean whart who said that…

ship. captain curly x favorite crewmate reader

cw. power imbalance, fauxcest, you call curly “dad” but he’s not your dad.

“You’re not uncomfortable, are you?”

It’s a rhetorical question, really. You know Curly would brush off any protest from you. Anya’s busy with something. Apparently Daisuke slipped, fell, almost sent a nail straight through his foot—you didn’t pay much attention to the excuse. What followed after was what caught your favor.

“And to help her avoid getting behind schedule, I offered to conduct your body inspection in Nurse Anya’s place.”

You remember yours eyes widening in disbelief. It seemed like a joke at first. A weird one at that, but not something you’d put behind him.

“Guess you should call me Nurse Curly, huh?” He winks to punctuate the sentence.

And so it wasn’t a joke.

You’re here now. In his quarters, of all places. It’s definitely bigger than the broom closet Pony Express is legally obligated to provide you with as room and board, but not much so. Definitely less than captain-like.

“So,” He claps his hands together, smile bright as ever. “Shall we get started?”

Your captain’s eyes are bright, shining with enthusiasm. The predatory gleam that hides beneath them doesn’t go unmissed.

You simply nod. You’ve been here before, done this before. Anya’s inspections aren’t extremely invasive. Mainly just to ensure you’re in proper working order. Pony Express doesn’t take any chances when it comes to personal health as they want to avoid lawsuits, but also, any notation you’re unable to complete your tasks gives them excuse to dock credits.

They’re a necessary part of your routine health checkups. Nothing to be afraid of. Honestly, having Curly conducting it is good, right? Maybe even better than Anya, when you really think about it. He’s the most trustworthy one on the ship. The one who’s almost like family. It still feels awkward calling him dad the way he likes, but it’s starting to grow on you. You can trust him. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.

“This is just a routine checkup. Don’t think too hard about it.” He’s putting on those blue latex gloves. He must be serious about this. “I know it’s unorthodox for me to conduct this, but it’s a favor for Anya. Captain’s gotta fill in to keep this ship running properly, y’know?”

You hums in agreement. He takes a few steps forward. You never really realized just how large Curly is. His presence is imposing, a stark contrast from his personality. The sheer closeness of him is intimating. You wonder if he notices that too.

He then asks for you to take off your shirt. You oblige. Hesitation shoots through your fingertips, but it’s brushed away by a shake of the head. This is typical. Routine. With shaky fingers, you relinquish the garment.

Curly seems to drink in the sight of the newly exposed skin. Or is he just studying it? Doing his job? That’s it.

Your captain seems to notice the way you shuffle awkwardly under his gaze. He places a hand on your shoulder, giving you a comforting smile.

“It’s okay to be embarrassed. I know it’s awkward, but it’ll be over before you know it.”

You nod. Then he steps closer, curiously eyeing your chest. His hands reach out to touch you, only hesitating for a split second, before ghosting up your ribcage. You hold back and noises. Anya touches you too, this isn’t odd, per se. However, it’s usually with you lying on a medical bed. And with a medical gown on, at least.

She also doesn’t smile in satisfaction like that. Your eyes don’t linger on Curly’s face long.

He has the audacity to be demure at first, maiming some guise that this contact is supposed to be professional. His hands prod your sides, then your stomach area.

“Is there any pain when I touch you here?” Finally, there’s a line ripped from Anya’s script. “Or any pain elsewhere I should be aware of?”

You shake your head, then give a brief answer. Curly nods, then moves to take a couple notes on the clipboard set on at his desk.

There’s a sense of relief at the back of your mind, happy he’s taking this seriously.

He moves on. Now Curly’s hand move up your ribcage again, cupping your chest, thumbs stroking over your areolas and nipples—causing them to harden at the contact.

Your cheeks flush. Good God, your captain should not be touching you like this. Anya has never done this. And you shouldn’t be fucking enjoying it, either. You jump when he gives one a flick.

Curly seems to notice this. He lets out a soft chuckle.

“Seems your reflexes are in good shape.”

Well, there goes any notion that this is purely professional. He gives a last squeeze to your chest, then removes his hands. Curly takes a couple steps back, then starts to circle around you.

“Your pants.” He makes the request almost sheepishly. “Can’t keep those on, unfortunately…” You want believe his shyness, that he wants to preserve your modesty, but he just can’t. It’s out of his hands. But that would be too obvious a lie.

You shuffle those off too. His presence is behind you now, his eyes definitely glued to your ass and thighs. He is, however, scribbling something down on a clipboard. So he has to be doing some sort of work, right?

“Underwear, too.”

Wait. What?

You glance over your shoulder at him, brow raised in confusion. This isn’t part of routine, and you’re not dumb enough to fall for it. Curly’s still standing there, smiling as if he didn’t say anything remotely weird.

“Just being thorough.” He answers before you can ask. “Do it for your captain’s sake? Please?”

Curly’s choice in words is particular. He doesn’t often feel the need to flex his title as captain, but he’ll pull rank when need be. This is one of those times. An indirect reminder of who’s the one with power here.

And so, you oblige. Fingers link under the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down. You’re exposed fully in front of him now. After a few seconds of silence (which you’re sure is spent by Curly committing your body to memory), he places a hand on your shoulder, urging you towards his neatly made bed.

“On the bed, please.”

You’re sat down before you can protest. Curly pushes you onto your back, slowly guiding your thighs open.

There? Of all places, he’s looking there? Panic shoots through you, and it’s not just because there’s a grown man taking advantage of his role getting on eye level with your pussy. It’s the fact he’s going to notice just how wet you are.

His pupils dilate when he gets full view of you. Your thighs are spread wide open by Curly’s thick, gloved fingers. They’re warm despite the barrier and press into the supple flesh. The way he grabs you is as if he’s trying to restrain himself.

Curiosity beckons him on. Still ensuring your thighs are pressed open, Curly allows one hand to delve between your thighs and explore.

He cups your mound with unexpected gentleness, relishing the warmth. You have to hold yourself back from grinding against his hand. Wetness leaks out of your hole at the contact. It’s sick. Totally embarrassing how you’re dying to felt up by your captain, as dubiously consenting as it is. You close your eyes, an attempt at avoiding any eye contact Curly might sneak in.

One thumb carefully traces up your slit. A breathy gasp is elicited from your lips. Curly’s own breathing, the only sound in the room you can make out aside from the ship’s constant humming, is shaky. His thumb gathers wetness without even needing to press into you. Your clit twitches at the contact, causing your hole to flutter, clenching around nothing.

God, you hope he notices. Hope he slides a finger in. Fuck all the professionalism, the way he tries to mask his feelings for you by constantly infantilizing your and calling you his family. You want to feel those thick digits spreading you open. Then his cock, which you’re sure is far more girthy. Maybe if you took him down to the base, rode him like he deserved, he’d see you for the grown up you really are. Could he still call you kiddo after you made him moan your name and milked him dry? You doubt it.

“Alright, I think we’re done here.” Curly retreats from your form, as if you suddenly combust into flames. “You can go now.”

Huh?

You snap from your fantasies, looking up at Curly. His broad back is facing you now, hunched over as he picks up your clothing. You’re clouded by a mix of feelings—relief, confusion, anticipation for more—but you start to dress as he asked. Something sits wrong in your stomach about all this, but you’re unsure if it’s nausea or butterflies.

“I think we’re all done here. I’m gonna write up that report for Anya.” He ushers you out of his quarters with a sense of urgency. The delusional part of you admires how serious he takes his work, but that unmistakeable tent in his pants alludes to this inspection being cut for less professional reasons.

“See you at dinner, kiddo.”

And you’re back in the hallway, left alone with your thoughts.

[uncannydevotion]

a/n: i've been thinking abt this request a lot lately so i've decided to finally write it. only took me two million years <3

includes: ticci toby, the bloody painter, x-virus, and homicidal liu.

warnings: not proofread i am writing this all in one sitting let's hope it's good, attempted murder against the reader in toby's part, angst! :jazz hands:, injuries, blood, panic attack in toby's part?? kinda?? you could call it that or you could say slender was doin some weird shit to his head, mentions of murder, mentions of past bullying, stalking, helen's kinda obsessed, unhealthy relationships, dead parents, needles, whatever the fuck cody injects into people, very morally ambiguous reader in cody's part, brief but slightly descriptive murder, randy is a warning i guess, mentions of fire, mentions of near death experiences, cigarettes, a gun, sully points a gun at reader but there's no real attempt of murder, a test to see how much i remember jeff's story cause i am Not rereading it it's 3am as im writing this.

TICCI TOBY

You really don't know what had compelled you to go into the forest so late at night. No... no, that's a lie. You do know. You knew exactly what had brought you to this forest.

Maybe you were crazy but you could've sworn you had seen your childhood friend at the edge of the forest near the cemetery the other night. It's so stupid, you knew that.

He's been missing for years now, classified as on the run after brutally killing his father, but you just... you had to know.

That's why you had entered the forest that night. No one else would be around, but... you really should've thought ahead, honestly. You should've brought a pocket knife, or some mace, or anything.

But how were you supposed to know that you would end up getting chased through the woods by a fucking crazy guy with hatchets? You don't even know where he came from, he just threw one of the hatchets at you and narrowly missed!

Consider yourself lucky, or whatever, but he seemed fairly determined to kill you.

You hid behind a thick tree, taking a moment to catch your breath. You're not sure how deep in the forest you had gone, but the area was starting to look familiar, so you assumed that you were getting close to the cemetery connected to the town.

But he was catching up to you, and fast. It's not like you could just fight him off, he had the advantage with, y'know, the hatchets.

Quick thinking is what leads to you grabbing a fairly sturdy branch from the ground. It was heavy, but you didn't have the luxury of caring about that right now as you pressed your back against the tree, forcing yourself to steady your breathing.

The sound of tongue clicking was familiar, and it grew closer and closer. You could hear leaves and twigs being stepped on. Cautiously, you took a glance around the tree. The man's back was turned towards you, but he was looking around.

Looking for you.

You knew this was the one chance you had, so you tried to be extra quiet as you approached him, raising the branch up high and using all your strength to knock him over the head with it.

The man falls to his knees, and as soon as he dropped his hatchets, you dropped the branch and snatched the weapons away, throwing them somewhere deeper in the forest just so he wouldn't be able to use them to hurt you.

Now, you knew you should've ran. He was no longer a threat, but... the tics, the way he didn't react to the pain of getting hit over the head like you thought he would've... he seemed dizzy, sure, but he was bleeding. He wasn't clutching his head, he wasn't hissing in pain.

It was all familiar, and it reminded you of...

"Toby?" You sounded breathless, chest heaving as you stared down at him.

His head shot up at the sound of his name, and behind his cracked goggles, you can see the way his eyes widened. Even though most of his face was concealed, you could see the...

Fear? Confusion? You're not sure what emotion it was, but it was so evident in the way he recoils from you when you reach out to him.

"Toby... what-" You couldn't even get another word out before he was interrupting you.

"No! No. No. I don't kn–click–know you." His voice cracked as he spoke, and he sounded pained. Not from the injury you had given him, but... as if there were something else.

You really don't know what's happening, all you knew was that the man you had considered to be your best friend when you were younger had just tried killing you, and is acting as if he doesn't know you.

No... not acting. His confusion, the lack of recognition, it was all real.

You couldn't get another word in before he was breaking down, clutching his head as if something was screaming inside it, "I don't know you! I don't know you!"

The pure agony in his voice had you stumbling back. Clearly, your presence wasn't helping him. Guilt clawed at your insides, and even though you didn't want to leave him like this, even though you wanted to figure out what had happened all those years ago, you knew you had no choice.

You stumbled out of the forest, the sound of Toby screaming echoing around you.

And though it was faint, you swore you heard static as well.

THE BLOODY PAINTER

Being friends with Helen had been hard, even before he killed almost the entirety of his class. He rarely ever spoke to you, and half of the time you wondered if he even thought of you as his friend.

You stood up for him against people like Judy and Ban, but there was only so much you could do.

There was one memory that you always thought of, even after you had grown up. It was the night before the school's Halloween party, and you had dropped by Helen's house to get his help on picking out a costume.

He had seemed... really distracted, that night. He wasn't fully there. When you asked him if he was okay, he just...

"Promise me that you'll stay my friend, no matter what happens."

It had caught you off guard, but you had made the promise. The next night, he killed his classmates before your parents dropped you off at the school. You didn't see him after that, because your parents refused to let you associate with him.

And now, years later, something was wrong.

You had heard from Helen's mother, months ago, that he had been released from the institution he had been in, apparently no longer a danger to himself or others, but he just...

Disappeared. Cut all contact.

And shortly after his release, you heard from an old friend that Judy and Maggie, two of the few classmates that had survived the massacre, had gone missing, along with the other three survivors.

Something deep down in your gut told you that it was Helen. When the bodies of the missing had been found inside of Helen's childhood home, you just knew.

You should've gone to the police, really, but it's not like they didn't already know. There was a manhunt out for Helen the moment the bodies were found, but he was long gone.

It's not like you had to be worried or anything, right? You were in a completely different state, living in a large city. You haven't spoken to him since you were kids, and it's not like he knew where you were at, right?

Well, you were wrong, apparently.

When the stalking started, you didn't want to believe it was Helen. I mean, seriously, why would he want anything to do with you? Unless...

You didn't want to think about it, but... he had gone back and killed all the survivors of his original massacre. And... you were technically a survivor, if only because you were late to the party. He didn't plan on killing you, did he?

Though, that fear was quickly squashed when he started leaving you gifts. They were nothing major, mostly sketches of you. They weren't signed, but you knew who they were from.

The feeling of eyes on you was something you just couldn't get used to, and you swear you started seeing him when you were out in the city.

You wanted to go to a bookstore? Helen was across the street. Taking a walk in the park? You swear you saw him sitting on a bench, sketching.

It felt as if you were going insane, honestly.

You... you really should have gone to the police, you think, when you got home one night to find your roommate hanging from the ceiling, their neck slit and their blood painted all over the walls.

In your roommates blood, on your wall, a heart was painted, followed by a question mark. Was this... a love confession? Was he asking if you loved him?

When you took a step back, towards the front door, you had bumped right into him. He was on you in an instant, and his hand covered your mouth to prevent your scream from being heard by anyone.

"Shh... I'm not going to hurt you. We made a promise, remember?"

X-VIRUS

Living at an orphanage had never been easy. You still remember the day you first arrived. Your parents had both died, and you had pretty much closed yourself away from everyone, refusing to interact with any of the other kids.

The caretakers had been concerned, especially when the other kids had started picking on you for being quiet and 'weird'.

In comes Cody, a kid your age with absolutely no filter and no regard for what was considered right or wrong. To this day, you still don't know what it was about you that made him hang around, but the moment he got to the orphanage, he was by your side almost all the time.

Whenever one of the other kids messed with you, they'd always end up getting injured in some way because of Cody.

Cody was the only person you were willing to speak to, other than the caretakers. He brought you out of your shell, and made you laugh with his stupid, poor-timed jokes. You even became his nurse, essentially, patching up his wounds whenever he got into fights over you.

The day he was adopted was the worst day of your life, you think. It's the first time you cried since your parents died, and you remember clinging onto him, begging him not to leave you.

It was a pretty embarrassing memory, to be honest.

You weren't as lucky as Cody had been. No family was interested in adopting you, and you ended up aging out of the orphanage. Life never got better for you, even after you left the orphanage.

You didn't have many friends, and your coworkers all tended to avoid you because of how apathetic you were. Truth be told, you didn't have any interest in anything.

Every single day, from the moment Cody had been taken from you, was literal hell in your mind. The loneliness, the constant doubts, the self-loathing, everything. It was so much. Almost too much, at times.

But that all changed when you were walking back to your dingy apartment one night after a late shift. You lived in a fairly unsafe area, but the rent was cheap, so you couldn't complain.

Walking by an alleyway, something caught your attention.

It was cliché, honestly. You didn't care if anyone might have been in trouble, but a morbid curiosity got the better of you when you heard someone crying for help.

Taking a stroll down the alleyway, you reached the end and saw something you truly weren't expecting. A man was laying on the ground, a headwound visible while another man stood over him, fiddling with a needle and some sort of liquid you didn't recognize.

"Would you shut up? There's nobody around to hear you,"

That... that voice...

Your eyes widened, but not because you just witnessed some poor guy get injected with a suspicious liquid.

The injured man starts gasping, and foaming at the mouth. Your eyes meet, and he reaches out to you, croaking for help. You just stand there, watching as the man died.

And when you look up, you meet the gaze of the man who killed him. But you weren't scared. You should be, you knew that, but you weren't.

Cody pulls down the mask he was wearing. He doesn't seem at all surprised to see you, almost as if he knew you had been watching.

"Miss me?" He asks. He was smiling, as if he hadn't just killed someone. So many questions were swirling in your mind, but the only thing you could really focus on was the fact that Cody was here, in front of you.

For the first time in years, you smile.

"Yeah."

HOMICIDAL LIU

When a new family moved in next door with two boys close to your age, your parents had practically forced you to go over and introduce yourself to them, trying to get you to make friends.

You weren't at all interested, but you also didn't want to get in trouble, so once they had settled in, you went with them to be neighborly.

Liu and Jeff were the names of the kids. Liu was the older one, only a few months younger than you, and as mean as it was, you were definitely more interested in hanging out with Liu more than his little brother.

It's not that you hated him or anything like that, but... you were a kid, y'know? The thought of hanging out with someone younger than you, even if only by three years, was weird. It's something you felt guilty about now, as an adult, but it's not like you could change the past.

Besides, you and Liu weren't even friends. Not when you two had first met, at least.

You walked to school with him, and you had a few classes together at school, but you already had your own group of friends, and you just weren't interested in making any new ones.

It wasn't until his brother started to get bullied that you two started to develop a bond. You were one of the few people who didn't tolerate Randy's bullshit, so you never hesitated to stand up for Jeff when you were around.

Liu liked that about you.

When he had gotten arrested after falsely confessing to beating up Randy and his goons, you did your best to protect Jeff while he was gone.

To this day, you can't help but blame yourself for everything that happened. The day Jeff had been lit on fire, you had been stuck at home because of the flu. You still remember the scream of pure agony you heard from his mother next door when she got the call.

There were many things you wish you had done differently back then, but alas. Time marched forward.

As far as you knew, Liu died that night Jeff brutally killed his entire family, and you made sure to visit his grave whenever you had time to spare.

Today was one of those days. The sky was filled with clouds, and you had bought some flowers.

Everyone in town viewed the Woods family in a negative light because of the terror Jeff had caused, and still continues to cause to this day, so their graves don't get taken care of.

You do the best you can, but it's hard to prevent neighborhood kids from vandalizing the grave every other week.

But you were pleasantly surprised to find someone sitting behind Liu's tombstone, smoking a cigarette. You had thought that maybe it was an estranged family member, maybe, but as you approached, you couldn't help but notice that the scarf around their neck was eerily similar to the one Liu had gotten a few weeks before his death.

"Uhm, hello?" You call out, curious as to who this visitor could possibly be.

You did not expect for a gun to be pointed at you.

You blink, staring at the gun for a moment, too bewildered to register the fact that you should probably be scared. Hell, you didn't even have much of a chance to register the gun before you found yourself more distracted by the person holding it.

He looked... eerily familiar.

The scarf. The scars littered across his face, on his neck. They reminded you of the reports you read about the wounds Liu had sustained before dying in the hospital.

It was stupid. There's no way it's actually him. No way. He didn't even seem to recognize you. He had a fucking gun pointing at you, for crying out loud!

This was not Liu.

So why did he feel like him?

"...Liu?"

Your voice caused his gaze to change. The gun lowered slightly, his brows pinching together. And in a split second, it's as if he was a different person entirely, the way his eyes widened in recognition.

His gaze dropped to the gun that he had been pointing at you, and he looked absolutely mortified, dropping it and the cigarette he had been smoking.

"I can explain." He says, but he honestly seemed just as lost as you were.

...It was going to be a long night.

[ilovekittycats2]

Please, please, please, I would LOVE to read a part 2 to High Maintenance!!!! It's so great and they are so sweet together!!!!! And your writing is so fantastic!!!!! Thank you for sharing it with us!!!!

omg thank you guys so much for the love on these blurbs!! they are so fun to make lol... thank you for the req anon!

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Lingering

Jake Seresin x reader

this is a part 2 of High Maintenance

(use of y/n)

In which,

Hangman seems to linger after the close call.

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Jake “Hangman” Seresin wasn’t the type to linger. He preferred quick victories and clean exits, leaving no room for complication or doubt. But ever since that close call—the one where his F/A-18 limped back to base on sheer skill and sheer luck—lingering seemed to be his new pastime.

It started innocently enough. He spent more time in the hangar, leaning against workbenches and “supervising” as you poured over engine diagnostics and maintenance logs. At first, you assumed it was part of his usual act—a chance to annoy you or crack a few smug jokes at your expense. But the jokes were softer now, and the sharp edge to his cockiness seemed dulled.

“You know,” he said one afternoon, watching you disassemble a faulty compressor, “I’ve never seen anyone care about these jets the way you do.” You snorted, not looking up. “Because I have to fix them when you break them.”

Jake didn’t take the bait, which was unusual. Instead, he stayed quiet for a beat too long, his gaze steady. When you glanced at him, his expression wasn’t his usual smirk—it was something softer, something almost vulnerable.

Moments like that kept piling up, until it became impossible to ignore the shift between you. The banter was still there, but the sting had faded. In its place was something warmer, more cautious, as if both of you were testing the waters of this unfamiliar dynamic.

The rest of the squadron noticed the change before you were ready to admit it yourself. Fred, one of the older mechanics, caught on first. One morning, Jake brought you coffee—a gesture so out of character it felt like the world had tilted on its axis. Fred raised an eyebrow as Jake set the cup on your workbench with a casual, “Thought you could use this.” Jake's eyes lingered on your own for a moment too long. The tension between the two of you was palpable. You dipped your head towards Jake and flashed him a small smile. Jake turned to leave. “Didn’t know pilots were running coffee deliveries now,” Fred teased once Jake had sauntered off.

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks betrayed you, flushing under the scrutiny. “He’s just trying to make sure I don’t sabotage his jet,” you said, more to convince yourself than Fred. But Fred wasn’t the only one who noticed. The other pilots started making comments too, especially after Jake began volunteering to test flights for the jets you worked on. “Looks like Seresin’s got himself a favorite mechanic,” one of them joked after Jake had gone out of his way to defend you in a briefing.

“Guess he knows quality work when he sees it,” you shot back, refusing to rise to the bait. But inside, you couldn’t shake the warmth that lingered whenever Jake’s loyalty came into question—and he always answered without hesitation.

It wasn’t just his presence that changed. Jake, the squadron’s golden boy, was no longer the untouchable, unflappable pilot everyone thought they knew. One night, long after everyone else had left, he found you still working in the hangar. You barely registered his arrival until he set a container of food on the workbench.

“You’ve been here for hours,” he said simply, pulling up a stool. “And yet, the work isn’t done,” you replied without looking up. “Take a break, sweetheart,” he said, but the nickname lacked its usual bite. You sighed, finally putting down your tools. “Why are you still here, Jake?” He hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. “Didn’t feel right leaving.”

Something in his tone made you look at him more closely. He wasn’t smirking. His shoulders were tense, his eyes uncharacteristically serious. “What’s really going on?” you asked, softening.

Jake exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t slept much since... that day,” he admitted. “I keep thinking about what could’ve happened. What I could’ve lost.”

The words hung between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the hangar lights. “You’re not the only one who’s lost sleep,” you admitted, surprising even yourself. Jake’s gaze snapped to yours, his usual bravado replaced by something raw and unguarded. “I trust you,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the vulnerability in his eyes. “With my life. And I don’t take that lightly.”

Your heart stuttered at the sincerity in his tone. “I’m just doing my job,” you replied, but the words felt hollow even as you said them. Jake leaned forward, closing the distance between you just enough to make your pulse race. “It’s more than that,” he said. “You know it is.” 

The weight of Jake’s words stayed with you, echoing in your mind even after the hangar fell silent. The hum of the lights, the smell of grease, the faint clatter of tools—it was all familiar, grounding. But nothing could steady the way your chest tightened when you thought of him.

Jake Seresin wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. He was a pilot, the kind that walked into a room with swagger and left it with everyone’s attention. He was insufferable, arrogant, too charming for his own good. And yet, the Jake who lingered in the shadows of the hangar, who brought coffee and stayed late, who admitted to fear and trust in the same breath—that Jake was unraveling everything you thought you knew.

In the days that followed, his presence became a constant. If you were working on a jet, Jake wasn’t far behind. He didn’t make excuses anymore. When you asked why he was there, he’d shrug and say, “Just keeping an eye on my girl,” though you weren’t sure if he meant the jet or you.

One afternoon, as you were tightening bolts on a stabilizer, Jake leaned against the fuselage, watching you with a thoughtful expression. “You ever think about flying?” he asked suddenly.

The question caught you off guard. “What?” Your eyes met his.“Flying,” he repeated. “Getting up there. Seeing what it’s like.” You hesitated, wiping your hands on a grease-streaked rag. “I’ve thought about it,” you admitted, the words coming slower than you expected. “But fixing these birds makes sense to me. Flying them... I don’t know. It feels like a different world.”

Jake tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’d be good at it,” he said, his voice softer than usual. The compliment shouldn’t have meant so much, but it did. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you turned back to your work, trying to ignore the way his words made your chest ache.

“What about you?” you asked, trying to shift the focus. “Why’d you start flying?” Jake was quiet for a moment, his usual bravado giving way to something deeper. “Because it’s the one place I feel like I’m in control,” he said finally. “Up there, it’s just me and the jet. No one to answer to, no expectations. Just... freedom.”

The honesty in his voice took you by surprise. You paused, glancing at him. For the first time, Jake didn’t look like the cocky pilot who never missed an opportunity to drive you crazy. He looked human—vulnerable in a way that made your heart twist.

“Well,” you said, breaking the moment before it could grow too heavy, “if you’re so free up there, maybe stop breaking your jet so I can get a break down here.” Jake laughed, the sound lighter than you’d heard in weeks. “Fair enough,” he said, the smirk tugging at his lips again. But this time, it wasn’t mocking or arrogant. It was warm, genuine—like he was letting you in on some private joke.

The lines between you and Jake were blurring in ways you weren’t sure you could handle. Every moment spent together felt like stepping closer to an edge, the tension between you building like the charge before a storm. And yet, for the first time, you weren’t sure if you wanted to pull back. Because the Jake Seresin standing in front of you wasn’t the insufferable pilot you’d known. He was something else entirely.

And maybe—just maybe—you wanted to find out what that meant.

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once again thank you for the love!! i cant tell if i like this blurb or not but lmk! send reqs love u

[little-miss-fandom-freak]

More Time

(Rick Flag x Fem!Reader/ Rick Flag Sr x Platonic!Reader)

Summary: Rick Flag Sr finally meets his son's fiancée, unfortunately it wasn't the way either it them had imagined it

Warning: MAJOR ANGST!! Talks of drugs, addictions, and stippers as well

Every parent's wish is to be able to watch their child grow into an amazing person and to see them reach this achievement before their passing. No parent should have to attend their child's funeral. Unfortunately for Rick Flag Sr., life had different plans.

He debated all morning on if he even wanted to attend the funeral. No one would have blamed him if he didn't. There wasn't even a body to bury, but he wasn't a coward. So there he was, sitting in the front pew, watching Amanda Waller give her goodbye speech to her best soldier. Many people were whispering about her stoic demeanor, not realizing that this woman hadn't shown emotion in her entire career and wasn't going to start now. Rick had already given his speech, so at this point, he just wanted to leave. And he was about to do so until the pastor approached the stand.

"There is one more person who would like to send their goodbyes to Richard Flag. His lovely fiancée." Rick's eyes flickered to the stand. A younger woman slowly made her way up the stairs. She was shaking, like a scared lamb. Her eyes were puffy and red from the tears she had been shedding all morning, and her voice was tried and sore from her cries. Rick knew his son was supposed to get married before his death, he remembered the day well. Rick Jr was to be deployed to Corto Maltese with his new Task Force. When he mentioned his engagement, Rick was over the moon with joy. Rick Jr wanted his dad to meet the love of his life when he got back from the mission. That day never came.

The woman at the stand let out a shaky breath before her soft voice spoke. "Richard was... an extraordinary man. He was a brave soldier who fought endlessly for our country. He... he would've been, an amazing husband. He cared deeply for everyone around him, he'd give the clothes off of his back if it meant helping someone in need. He put his life on the line for so many people, even for those he didn't know..." She took a moment, choking back a small cry before she continued.

"If there's one thing about Richard that everyone knew, it's that he took pride in his country. He was a true patriot, even till the end... For the longest time I resented that part of him. All of the birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays he missed because he was called in for duty." Rick didn't miss the glare she shot at Waller, who sat near him in the front pews.

"But that was just who he was; fiercely loyal and willing to fight for what he believed was for the betterment of others... but sometimes-" a small cry came from her. She sharply inhaled before continuing, changing the topic before she got too wrapped up in her thoughts. "As realistic as he was at times, Richard always tried to see the best in people. He first person to see me as someone more than my career, someone more than my struggles. He even helped me get back into school. That's why I fell in love with him... but I guess our love wasn't meant for this world. Maybe in another, we make it..."

She turned to the empty coffin and placed a singular rose on top of it. "Goodbye, Richard. My heart dies with you..."

After the ceremony, everyone gathered outside to disscus the location of the wake. Rick decided he wasn't going to attend, he's delt with too much for today. He did, however, wanted to speak to his son's fiancée before he left. When he finally spotted her, she was already getting in her car, likely to head to the wake. Rick sighed, realizing that he didn't have a choice but to attend the wake.

When he got there, the wake had already begun. It was peaceful, but the tone had shifted to a lighter one than the funeral just an hour before. He shifted his way around the community hall, asking around if anyone knew where the girl had gone. He tapped the shoulder of a young woman. "Excuse me, ma'am-"

The woman whipped around. "Ma'am?! I am not that old!" Rick was startled by her appearance.

"Wait, are you Harley Quinn?"

Rick sighed. "I'm his dad."

She chuckled. "Guilty! Now I know what yer thinkin'; "Harley Quinn?! How'd you escape prison?!" Jokes on you, I didn't! The old bitch, Waller, gave me few hours out of the old cell to pay my respects. Who are you? How'd ya know Flag?"

Her cheery, peppy demeanor changed. She shoulders sunk and her smile became one full of sorrow. "Oh... I'm real sorry bout yer loss. Ricky was a good guy... probably the only person who didn't treat me like shit when I was locked up. He even visited a few times, just to check up on me... I'm gonna miss the guy, even if he was a little stuck up" She said with a sorrowful chuckle. "You raised a good man, Mr. Flag."

Rick nodded; he never realized how big of an impact his son had on people. "I'm looking for his fiancee."

"Oh, Y/n? I just saw her, I think she went out back for some air." Rick gave the young woman a pat on the shoulder before he made his way out back

Pushing past the crowd of people, he took a step outside, the fall wind hitting his face as he looked around for Y/n. He spotted her on a bench a little ways down, scrolling through old pictures on her phone.

~~~~

"Man, couldn't take of your hat for a single picture, huh Richard?" You said with a chuckle, scrolling through your gallery just to see your fiance with some kind of baseball cap on in each one.

"My son always did appreciate a decent baseball cap." You turned behind you, standing there was the older man from the funeral. Richard's dad.

"Oh, hi. We haven't met yet." You raised your hand and introduced yourself.

"Rick Sr., I'm glad I can finally put a name to the face." He said as he sat down beside you.

"I can say the same about you. Richard spoke very highly of you. It's unfortunate that we had to meet like this."

"It is..." The two of you stayed silent. You went for you bag and pulled out a small flask. Handing it to Rick, he raised his brow. You shrugged. "I couldn't come sober."

Rick nodded, accepting the flask. "How did you meet my son?" He asked as he wiped his mouth. "He never shared the details. Always said its better to hear in person."

She chuckled softly. "He would say that..." She took a sharp inhale before she spoke. "I was a stipper-"

Rick chocked on the rum inside the flask. She let out a laugh, chuckling as Rick wiped the liquid from his lips. "Don't worry, we didn't meet at a strip club. We actually met at a farmer's market of all places. He was looking for some preservative to bring before he was diployed again, and I was wandering around town before my shift started. I accidentally ran into him and we dropped all of our stuff. We hit it off instantly. I actually skipped my shift to hang out with him, He always called it our "unofficial first date." He didn't consider it an actual date because he didn't pick me up from my house, we didn't go somewhere nice, nor was rither of us dressed in "date attire"... God my life was such a mess before him."

"How so?" Rick asked as he passed the flask. "If you don't mind me asking."

You took a sip and sighed. "Before I met Richard, I was a mess. My job was great, I made good money as a stripper but... I had an addiction. Heroin. He didn't know for months but wheb he found out I was so sure he'd leave me. But he didn't... he stayed. He stayed with me, visited me every day while I was in rehab. He never gave up on me... you raised a good man."

Rick nodded. "That kid... he was something else. He the only good thing in this god forsaken world, the only spark of light in my dimmed out life."

"He was a beacon of light to all. Hell, if it weren't for him, I'd be dead from an overdose by now..." You took a big swing of her flask. "Maybe I was supposed to. Maybe this is karma's way of getting back. Because no one, as wonderful as that man, should've been taken from this world."

Rick saw the anger in your eyes as your grip around the flask tightened. Cautiously, he placed his hand over yours. Your eyes flicked up to him, tears threatening to spill. "Why did he have to be a hero?... Why couldn't he have been a peice of shit like the rest of us? Why'd did he..." a sob escaped your lips. "Why did he leave me?"

Rick pulled you into his chest as the tears and cries left your body. You trembled against him, all of your emotions were pouring out into one motion. The two of you stayed like that for a while, neither of you knew how long but neither of you cared. Finally, someone knew how the other felt. It was refreshing for you; to finally have someone you could cry to without feeling annoying or judged. You didn't have your family; your dad died years ago and your mom practically disowned you because of your career choices. This was the first real comfort you've received in a long time.

~~~~

After the wake, Rick walked you to your car. He hung by the door as you got in. Pulling a pen from his pocket, he gently grabbed your arm and wrote something down.

"My personal and work number. If you ever need anything, call me. Doesn't matter the time or day, I'm here for you kid."

You looked up at him with a wide smile. "God you're gonna make me cry again." The two chuckled as you tried to wipe away the tears. Taking a step out of the car, you gave Rick one last hug before you made your way home.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

This was a a little idea I came up with last night. I read that the VAs in Creature Commandos are going to play their characters irl so I compared Rick Flag Sr and Rick Flag Jr and...

PEAK casting, I applaud who ever did this 👏

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 35 - All Blends 6

Summary: Shanks and Mihawk re-familiarize themselves with you and get interrupted

Warnings: Smut Ahead!

Peppermint Tea Masterlist -> HERE

“I guess all it takes for you to admit your feelings is a life-threatening situation, huh, Mihawk,” Shanks teases, and Mihawk turns to glare over his shoulder at the redhead. You can’t help but laugh, finally feeling at ease with your boys after the admission of love and the easy way that Shanks poked fun at the other man. 

“Be quiet, Red,” Mihawk grumbled and then focused back on you. You can see the amusement that dances in his ringed gaze, “We’re having a moment.” 

Shanks scoffs, lips pulling up in a pout, “Ugh, can’t even wait for me. So selfish. I’m a part of this too, Hawkeye.” 

Mihawk rolls his eyes, “Do you hear anything, love? Because I don’t.”

You laugh again, cheeks hurting from how widely you are smiling. It felt wonderful to be surrounded by them again. You had missed their scathy attitudes and harness banter. You reach out, winding your arms around Mihawk’s neck, and pull him in for a much-needed kiss, lips moving against his own as you sag against the warlord. You feel Shanks slide up behind you, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he presses his lips to your neck, peppering your flesh with little kitten kisses that make you shiver. 

“I love you, too, Shanks,” You assure the redhead when Mihawk allows you up from the kiss. You lean back to rest your weight against the man behind you, sighing in relief when the distribution of weight makes your feet ache less. You look down when a hand curls around your stomach, heart softening at the sight. 

“How’s snowflake?” Shanks asks quietly, and you can’t help but huff at the nickname. 

“She’s doing good. Won’t be much longer until we get to meet her.” 

Both men catch on to your pronoun usage and share a look over your head. Mihawk had already heard this from you before, but Shanks hadn’t. The redhead turns you around with a careful hand and then drops to his knees, pressing his cheek to your stomach and grinning when he is kicked in the face for his troubles, “Well, she’s strong already, just like her daddies.” 

You smile, hand dropping down to thread your fingers through his hair, gently tugging the strands this way and that as you play with them. Mihawk wraps his arms around your middle, long fingers spread wide on either side of your stomach. He can’t help but the tiny smile that curls his lips when he feels the movement inside. 

“We need to find you a reliable doctor, darling. Nothing but the best for you,” He murmurs. They’ve talked about this before, and giving birth to your child had been the only thing that would have gotten you off your island, “How far along do you think you are?” 

You shiver when Shanks rusks your shirt up, pressing kisses to the underside of your stomach, and your grip tightens warningly in his hair. As much as you wanted your boys to lavish you with attention, you’ve had a very long, very stressful month away from your home and even longer away from them. You wanted a scalding shower and then to lay down with them wrapped around you. 

“Around 34 weeks, I think? Like I said, it won’t be much longer.” 

Shanks and Mihawk share another look, the redhead’s eyes wide as he slowly pulls away, though he keeps his hand tucked close, “Then we should hurry. Crocus will be able to take care of you.”

Mihawk frowns and licks his lips in thought, “He is at the very beginning of the Grand Line. Do you think you could get us there in time?” 

It’d taken Shanks three weeks and some odd days to make it from your island to Whole Cake, and that had been with him taking shortcuts. Mihawk didn’t think it would be possible for them to get to the lighthouse keeper before it was time for you to give birth. They could contact the Straw Hats, but neither man was ready to see Zoro or Luffy right now, nor did Mihawk think that the little raccoon dog had enough experience to help them. They could contact Marco the Phoenix, but last they heard, the man had holed himself off on Sphinx Island, but that was at least closer than Crocus. 

“Marco?” Shanks suggests. He would trust the other man with his most valuable treasure, and trust him to keep his mouth shut about why they needed him. No one needed to know that Shanks now had two weaknesses out there. The same could be said for the warlord. 

Mihawk purses his lips. He didn’t have as much experience with the other man, but they didn’t have a lot of options right now, “He’ll do.” 

You grunt suddenly, brows furrowing when you are kicked in the spleen, and decide that you are ready for your shower now, thank you very much. 

“I want it steaming,” you demand after they have detached themselves from you, and Shanks has left to go start the shower for you. The redhead sends you a lazy salute, a grin on his lips as he lopes away to do as you ask. Mihawk reaches for your shirt, carefully pulling the bright garment off your head and tossing it behind him. His eyes rake over your exposed front once you are bare to him, and his hand finds one of your perky breasts, cupping it gently and smoothing his thumb over a perked nipple. 

You hiss at the feeling, heat pooling between your legs, and Mihawk gives you a playful smirk before he does it again. Your toes curl in your socks, knees feeling like jelly just from the simple touch. 

“So sensitive, from the pregnancy, no doubt,” He murmurs and raises his other hand to cup your free breast, gently pushing against your nipple. Your hands find his shirt, teeth bared in pleasure as you grip the fabric tightly, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. You jump when you feel lips pressed against the middle of your back, and then a hot tongue laving at the thin skin just below your ear, and know that Shanks has come back from the bathroom. 

“Boys,” you whine quietly, and have to bite your lip to keep yourself from making any more embarrassing sounds, “Please.” 

Shanks grins against your throat, hand dipping low to dance his fingertips just above the panties you still wear, “Please what, baby? Please stop. Or please keep going?” 

He knows what he’d like to do. He wants you on your back, legs spread so that he could bury his face in your cunt and show you just how much he’d missed you. Mihawk is having similar thoughts, though he wants to see you atop him, hovering over him with his cock buried inside your pussy as you seek pleasure from him. 

You curse them both softly, bottom lip throbbing from how harshly you have bitten it, and crack your eyes open to meet molten golden eyes that are watching your every move. He gives you a small, teasing grin, tilting his head to the side with a soft hum. His thumbs massage your breasts, pressing and dragging along your nipples, and his voice is husky when he speaks, “Use your words, dear one. You must tell us what you want.” 

KA-BOOM!

The moment is shattered by the sound of cannon fire, and it is a good thing that you were stuck between the two men, or you would have fallen to the floor. Their haki spills forth, lashing and whipping like a hurricane, but you have never been safer sandwiched between them. Shanks pulls away, grabbing up your shirt and Mihawk takes it from him to slide it over your shoulders. 

“I’ll stay here, you go and find out who’s attacking us,” Mihawk orders and the redhead disappears after giving both of his treasures a quick kiss. You watch him leave, your heart in your chest as you look back at Mihawk. 

“It’s Big Mom, isn’t it?” 

The warlord leads you over to a chair and sits you down, kneeling in front of your chair, “Most likely, love. Shanks will deal with them, so do not worry.” 

You smile at your lover and take the hand that he offers you, “I know he will. I know that you’ll keep me safe, too.” 

Behind them, the door is ripped open and Perona comes stumbling in, Hank and Sukuna trailing behind her. Hank whines and drops low when another cannon goes off, crawling forward so that he lays under your chair. Sukuna takes up the spot in your lap, glaring at the warlord until Mihawk huffs and rises from his crouch. 

“Shanks looked pissed,” Perona comments and throws herself into a free chair. She had passed the redhead on the way to the captain’s quarters and had spotted the murderous look on his face. 

The warlord huffs a laugh and shares a look with you, “I’m sure he is.” 

Topside, Shanks glared at the approaching ships. There were three of them, all gaudy with bright colors and big sails. They obviously came from Big Mom, the woman most likely furious after finding out that he and Mihawk had found you, and he wondered which one of her children had cried wolf to her over Katakuri’s actions. 

“Yasoop, take out their main sails,” Shanks ordered his second mate, and the Red Force shook in answer. The captain watched in vicious satisfaction as a single cannonball sailed through the air and hit the main sail’s mast on the ship to the right. It tilted dangerously and then fell, hitting the foremast and causing the massive sails to fold into one another. The ship veered to the right and hit the vessel next to it, puncturing the stern and causing water to flood the inside of the second ship.

A tailwind catches the last ship and launches it forward, bringing it close enough to the Red Force that Shanks could see the terrified looks on the pirates faces when they realized who they had chased after. Shanks unleashes his haki, flaring it to the point that places on his own ship splintered and cracked as he step forward. The redhead stands on the railing at the bow, and once the other vessel is close enough, Shanks launches himself forward, sword drawn and intent to kill. 

Big Mom’s ship crumbles under his will, wood splintering, and the pirates hit the deck with a dazed look upon their faces. Shanks arches his sword up, and it comes crashing down with a boom, severing the vessel in half like a hot knife through butter. He listens to the pirates scream and plead, but it all falls on deaf ears. They had signed their death warrant the second they thought that they could even try and take you away from him. 

Once the commotion seems to have died down, Mihawk leads the way up to the deck, and you take in the destruction with wide eyes. You’d yet to see what your boys could do with the power that practically bleeds from them, but it was still more than you expected. You find yourself blushing, and shift your weight, not having expected that the sight of their strength would turn you on so much. 

You shove the feeling down for now and look around for your redheaded lover, and laugh when you find him standing in the very tip of the stern of the sinking ship, hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword and a smug look painting his face. Benn swings the Red Force closer to the wreckage and Shanks leaps up and back on the deck, loping over to you and sweeping you up for a kiss that takes your breath away. 

“Took care of ‘em,” Shanks says, and then notices the way your face is still flushed with arousal. He grins down at you like the pirate he is and then looks up to meet Mihawk’s gaze, winking at the other man as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close to his side. He cuts his eyes at Benn, and his first mates nod at him. 

“I'll get us out of here, Captain,” Benn assures him and then you are shuffled back down below deck, Mihawk following close behind the two of you. Once behind closed doors, Shanks pulls you to the bed where he snags your waistband and tugs your pants down, gently pushing you back on the bed after he drops them to the floor. You look at him with wide, desire-filled eyes, lip wrapped between your teeth in anticipation. 

You watch as Mihawk toes off his boots and coat before he climbs behind you on the bed, those golden eyes molten and heavy as he stares down at you. He pulls you further up the bed, your back resting against his chest as Shanks shuffles forward until your legs drape over his shoulders. You shiver when he smooths his hand up your exposed tight, leaning forward to press a kiss to your sensitive flesh, a smirk on his lips as he flicks his eyes up at you.

“Let me make you feel good, sweetheart. I saw that look in your eyes on deck. Didn't think you would like that kinda thing.” 

You flush and look away from Shanks, but a hand on your cheek turns you back to face the redhead. Mihawk strokes his thumb along your jaw, blunt nails gently scraping against your skin. 

“Well… it's new to me, too,” you mutter and feel their warlord chuckle behind you. 

“Nothing wrong with that, love. Red is quite striking when he wants to be,” Dracule rumbles and you give a distracted nod, eyes already eating up the way Shanks leans in to kiss up your thighs, tongue darting out to delve under the seam of your panties. He trails kisses up the fabric, humming when he notices the damp patch that only grows larger the longer he continues his teasing. 

Shanks slips his thumb under the elastic, tugging it lightly until you lift your hips and he can slip them off of you, and he grins when your cunt is finally exposed to him. You suck in a sharp breath when Mihawk gathers your arms and slides them up and around his neck, urging you to lock your fingers together. His hands delve under your shirt, one hand splaying over your stomach and the other cupping a swollen breast, fingers tweaking a peaked nipple. 

A soft curse falls from your lips at the touch, and you can't help but shift your hips, feeling greedy for the touch of both of your lovers after so long apart. You had tried once to pleasure yourself while they'd been gone, but you had gotten so frustrated when you couldn't because your touch wasn't near as good as theirs. You'd lain there, tears streaming down your face and stomach cramping with arousal for a long time, missing your boys. 

Your despondent thoughts are cut off when Shanks leans forward and licks between your folds, a gasp tearing from your throat and your eyes snapping down to watch the redhead. Shanks groans, eyes shuttering at finally being able to taste you again after so long. He licks up your cunt again, pushing forward to bury his face between your legs, lips kissing and sucks your folds and up to your clit until you are a whining mess. Your legs clench around his head, dragging Shanks even closer and he lifts his arm to wrap around your thigh, keeping you still when your hips jump. 

Mihawk watches with heavy eyes, his cock hard and aching in his pants. He wants to feel your cold hands wrap around his length, feel your mouth swallow him down until you're choking and teary eyed, but that would have to wait. Right now all of this was for you. You'd been alone so long, had become so spoiled from their touch and attention that you had to be pent up, and he wasn't wrong. You changed their names like a mantra, moans and huffs spilling from between your lips like the most lovely song. The warlord couldn't get enough. 

It doesn't take much more before you are wailing in their arms, pussy fluttering and coating Shanks’ face in slick as you come on his tongue. Your voice is rough, curses and hisses falling from your lips when Shanks snakes his hand between your legs, thumb dragging along your folds and pushing them apart so that he can drink you down like a man lost in the desert. He keeps going, tongue sliding through the cream that coats your folds and up to your clit when he gently teases the throbbing bud with the tip of his tongue. 

“Shanks- honey, please,” you whine and jerk your arms, but Mihawk keeps them pinned with ease, a mean smile on his lips as he leans forward to press them against your neck. 

“What's wrong, darling?” He coos softly, and pinches your nipple, delighted by the sound that you make, “Is it too much?” 

You jerk your head in a nod, lips raw from being bitten, head feeling heavy with endorphins as you try to weakly shift away from Shanks. The redhead isn't stopping though, not until he had his fill. 

He shifts his hand, his index finger circling your entrance before gently pressing inside and groaning at the soft heat that clenches around it. Shanks wants to bury his cock inside you and never leave, wants to feel you pulse and shiver around him while he fills you up with his seed. The sight of you rounded with their child already ignited a need so great that Shanks thought it might ruin him, and he thinks he would keep you this way if he could. 

Mihawk strokes his hand over your stomach, up to the other breast when he pinches and rolls both of your nipples between his fingers, mouth leaving behind open-mouth kisses along your neck. His voice is airy, full of want and devotion when he speaks. 

“You'll never send us away again, right, angel? We're everything that you will ever need, no one else will ever make you feel the way we do.” 

You nod wildly, eyes filling with tears as their touch doesn't let up. Your cunt feels over-sensitive and raw, folds puffy from Shanks’ stubble and the way he delves two of his fingers into you over and over. The pace is maddening, the feel of his tongue stroking your clit too much, the rough pads of Mihawk’s fingers on your nipples electrifying. 

“N-never again. Can't live without you,” you stumble through your words, vision going blurry as tears spill down your cheeks. You are overwhelmed with pleasure and the knowledge that you are surrounded by your boys, and it's seconds later that you come undone for the second time, clenching around Shanks’ fingers and coming with a tired whine. 

Mind blank, you feel yourself being released and then positioned to lay down on the bed, and then two warm bodies shifting to lay on either side of you in the too-small bed. You snuggle up to the closest chest, and Shanks snickers when you bury your face against him. Mihawk tosses his arm across both of you, hand on the redhead's hip and keeping you trapped between them. You feel content and jelly-legged for the first time in over a month, so relaxed that it doesn't take long for you to pass out with a sleepy I love you. 

The two men share a look over your head, and both quietly agree that after today, all of you deserve to have a good night's rest. They would wake tomorrow and see about getting into contact with Marco, but for now, they would rest with their treasure tucked secured between them.

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax @jaguarthecat @atricksterwithwings @black-swan-blog27 @breadedloafs @enpvrirnce @gottalovethefandom @mfreedomstuff @caniseethefourthsword @olenoname @glitterystarfishfestival

[kingofbodyrolls]

Taehyung fic recs 2024 🥳

🎉 Guess what day it is? That’s right—it’s Taehyung’s birthday! 🥳 Of course, I haven’t forgotten. How could I?! While my monthly rec lists are taking a permanent vacation (they deserve it), I’m still determined to shout out incredible stories on each member’s special day. Because why not celebrate with fanfic love? 💜✨

So, buckle up for my Ultimate Favorite Taehyung Stories of the past year! 🚀 Have I hyped these up before? Oh, absolutely. Will I keep screaming about them? 100%. These stories are just that good! 🌟 A massive THANK YOU to the genius writers who crafted these masterpieces—you’re all legends, and I’m forever in awe of your talent 🥹💐 Every fic here is etched in my heart, and I couldn’t be more excited to share them again.

⚠️ Warning: Most of these fics are either spicy as hell, or tread into darker territory, so minors, this is your cue to dip out. DNI.

✨ Pro tip: If you fall in love with any of these fics (and you will), take a moment to shower the writers with love—whether that’s a comment, a reblog, or just a heartfelt emoji 💌 These small gestures mean the world to them, trust me! Plus, there’s no better way to say, “This fic made me feral, and I’m forever grateful.” 🥰

Need more Taehyung goodness? Dive into the rec library, check out last year’s birthday rec list, or peruse my 2023 recs. Happy reading, and let’s give these amazing stories (and their creators) all the love they deserve! 🫶

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (ksj)(💜) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄. 

⭐Sing for Me @exoticarmyofcrowns [6.6k]  // kth x f.reader // roommates to lovers // 🥵🥰😂

📝 you have been living with your roommate for well over a year and the unresolved sexual tension between the two of you finally comes to a head.

🗨️ how the fuck doesn’t this have more notes than it does?? 😭 It was so fucking amazing. I’m not kidding. It’s was perfection! Perfect amount of funny banter with a heavy sprinkle of spice. So fucking good. It good me feeling things. Tingles. Yes. It was so good. Another one for the faves ✨💜

⭐Tanzanite Treasures @kth1 [11.8k]  // kth x f.reader // s2l, fantasy!au, mermaid!au // 🥵🥰🪄

📝 you’re met with a handsome man who hands you back your missing necklace given to you by your late grandmother. What you didn’t know is that the necklace holds such a powerful secret about life under the sea. 

🗨️ this was so fucking cute— I can’t 😭 I love it, and the world building was so cute and detailed too— so magical 🥰

⭐Fanservice @bangtanintotheroom [30.8k]  // kth x f.reader // s2l, camboy!au // 🥵

📝 every Friday night at 10 PM was dedicated to your favorite camboy. When he hosts a contest and you end up the lucky winner, you’ll have to brace yourself for your unexpected debut.

🗨️ wft 🥵 This is just shy of 31k and I feel like maybe 5k of this isn’t smut, the rest of this is pure unadulterated, filthy smut 🤤 And it is amazing! Really good and loved it.

⭐Kodachrome @hobivore [9k]  // kth x f.reader x jjk // threesome, est. relationship // 🥵

📝 an unexpected encounter on Valentine’s Day brings back an old memory: after discussing some fantasies with your boyfriend, Taehyung, you can’t help but think it’s almost serendipitous when an old friend comes into town.

🗨️ This was so fucking good 😭🥵 I really loved it!!

⭐Bodyguard (there’s a pt 2) @yoonpobs [2.1k] // kth x f.reader // e2l, bodyguard!au // 🥵

📝 you protect taehyung from people but forget about the biggest threat. yourself.

🗨️ omg 🥵 This extremely good, so enticing and there was just all the build up sexual tension at the end— ugh! So good! 🥵 There wasn’t any smut in it, but damn it, it was still very lustful (I love those undertones). What’s not to love? It’s short, sweet and sensual ✨💯 There’s even a part two that I haven’t read yet!!!

⭐New Tricks @geniuslab [10.1k] // kth x f.reader // dog trainer!au, s2l // 🥵😂🥰

📝 when your newly adopted puppy turns out to be a lot more work than you expected, a cute dog trainer comes to the rescue. You soon become friends, but you begin to realize friendship might not be all you want.

🗨️ awww this was so fucking cute and fluff, I loved it so much 💖

⭐Gold Rush @ditttiii [4.4k]  // kth x f.reader // s2l!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 kim taehyung is a walking heartbreak waiting to happen. all narrow eyes and long nose and devilish smirks, he is everyone’s dream. after months of sharing an elevator with the man who makes your heart race until you can scarcely breathe when the chance finally comes; are you willing to risk it all for his touch? 

🗨️ OMG— I finally got to read this, and FUCK. SHIT. It is INSANELY beautiful (and sad too 🥹). But goddamn it, the love OC has for Taehyung, oh my. And the bittersweet feelings are what makes this hauntingly beautiful 💖 Again, I have a hard time coming up with words, words for how beautiful this masterpiece truly is 😭 Just— perfection 💯 Also, because it was so bittersweet, I really love the open ending, like getting to imagine whatever you like for this couple 😭💜

⭐Waterloo @kinktae [13k] // kth x f.reader // s2l, photographer!au, art!au, slowburn, romcom // 🌩️🥵🥰😂

📝Taehyung is a famous but pessimistic art prodigy who doesn’t believe in love. You are an art student studying in Paris, who sees the world through rose-colored lens and is a certified cheesy romance film enthusiast. And this is your love story. Or, “Well, it is the city of love. Maybe you just need to fall in love.”

🗨️ such a beautiful love story 🥹😭 I loved everything about it, how oc was not giving a shit about Taehyung, and how that in fact drew him in 🥰✨ And damn the ending, I loved it so much 🥹💜

⭐Long Black @jamaisjoons [6.5K]  // kth x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 you knew exactly what you were getting into when you decided to tease taehyung at his best friend’s wedding. what you didn’t expect was what came after. 

🗨️ filthy, this was so filthy. The beginning was just thick with tension and lust, and, and— omg. The smut was so incredible and then the ending! Damn. I loved it enough though it turned soft at the end 🥹💜

⭐Wannabe Photographer Chronicles (AO3) @gimmethatagustd [18.8k]  // kth x f.reader // frenemies to lovers, sex work, dub/sub themes // 🥵

📝 you’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s hipster, wannabe-photographer ass. You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s stupid smile and stupid jokes and stupid way of getting under your skin and sticking in your brain.

🗨️ not gonna lie, the smut had me dripping 🥵 So fucking perfect like the rest of the series! If you haven’t read it or the series… GET TO IT ✨

⭐A Christmas Fix one & two @yoonia [54.7k]  // kth x f.reader // christmas!au, secret baby!au, second chance!au, s2l // 🥵🌩️🥰😂

📝 one-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

🗨️ this is VERY DRAMA— but fuck I loved every single fucking line in this 😭 My heart was beating fast in my chest at time, times where I was flat out crying or wanting to pull my hair out. But that is exactly what I love about fanfiction and why I can’t recommend this enough!!! The plot was just exceptional, the storytelling was on point ✨

⭐Any Way You Want It @noteguk [6.6k]  // kth x f.reader // childhood bf to lovers // 🥵🥰

📝 in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

🗨️ fuck this was so cute, and fuck the smut was so hot 🥵✨

⭐Rent-a-BoyfriendTM + drabble @jimlingss [12k]  // kth x f.reader // s2l, fake dating!au // 😂🥰

📝 left intentionally blank by the author.

🗨️ fuck this was so freaking cute and fluffy with a small sprinkle of angst. Perfection 👏🏾 🥰

⭐Pour Up @jungkxook [14k]  // kth x f.reader + jjk x f.reader // fuckboy!au, threesome // 🥵

📝 sleeping with both notorious frat boys kim taehyung and jeon jungkook doesn’t sound so bad ━ especially when you’re drunk and faded.

🗨️ omg omg omg omg 🥵😭 So much smut, so beautiful and so freaking detailed, WHAT!? This was incredible, okay, if you haven’t read this one yet, please go and give it a read 🥹

🌟 Welcome to my little fic corner! 🌟 While I don’t write as much these days (I’m usually too busy devouring other people’s amazing stories 📚), I’d still love it if you gave my work a peek.

No pressure, though—your eyeballs, your choice! 👀💕 But hey, if you do decide to read something, know that it would make my day (and probably my week, let’s be real 🥰). Either way, thanks for stopping by, and happy reading! 💌

Moonglade / one-shot / strangers to lovers / 15.4k - 🥵🥰🪄😂 You’ve always been captivated by the sea—a love as deep and endless as the tides. But when tragedy strikes, that love turns bittersweet, and you find yourself drawn to the very thing that stole a part of your soul. Night after night, you pour your sorrows into the embrace of moonlight and whisper your pain to the stars. Then, one fateful evening, a merman surfaces from the depths—a being of myth and wonder. Will you dare to believe in fairytales and the magic of second chances? In hope, love, and the possibility of forever? Perhaps, he’s here to show you that even in the darkest corners, beauty and light can still thrive.

→  Moonglade (part of the '7 Summers at the Sea’ series)

✨ As a little bonus treat, here’s a handful of fics I haven’t had the chance to dive into yet—but OMG, I’m absolutely buzzing with excitement to read them! 🚀💖 The anticipation is real, and I can already tell these are going to be amazing:

Definition of Love @taegularities

Away from the Sun @inktae

It’s You All Along @lavienjin

When Fire Meets Frost @luxekook

Just One Week @byeoltoyuki

Seoul Town Road @luaspersona

Hot Boy Summer @kth1

Holding You Like This @jimilter

Perfectly Wrong (series; completed) @xpeachesncream

Slowdance on the Inside @floralseokjin

🎉 Happy Birthday to our jazzy, snazzy, utterly dazzling winter teddy bear, Taehyung! 🎷🐻💜✨ Another year of breathtaking vocals, mesmerizing artistry, and a vibe so smooth it could melt butter (and armies’ hearts) 🥰

From your boxy smile to your soulful saxophone dreams, you’re a walking masterpiece, Taehyung. 🎨🎶 May your day be filled with all the jazz, joy, and Kim Taehyung-level elegance the world has to offer! 🥳🎁 Here’s to more adventures, more love, and, of course, more of you being unapologetically iconic 💫

[alexanderwales]

I've started playing Persona 5 Royal, my first Persona game, because it was ridiculously cheap on Steam. Back when I had GamePass, I installed it but never played past the opening, which I think is a bit weak. I'm about 20 hours in, through the first two palaces, and I'm not sure that my opinion is going to change too much, but I'm registering it now just in case (with some spoilers for the first fourth of the game):

I think having a division between the physical world and the mental world, which is physically represented, is super cool. I used it in Dark Wizard of Donkerk, and am overdue for using it in something else. Psychonauts did it too. Inside Out as well. I will always love this concept.

I don't think I like the gameplay. The last major JRPG I played was Final Fantasy VII Remake, and I thought the same there, so ... I don't know, maybe just a whole genre that I don't have that much of a taste for. It's mostly the random inventory items and pointless mob fights that I'm frowning at.

Severe lack of harmony between the battle stuff and the story. The mob fights have fuck all to do with infiltrating someone's mind. There's stupid elemental shit. The mob designs are interesting but mostly disconnected from each other and any theme.

So far, the psyche stuff has been surprisingly shallow, given that it's the main focus of the game. First palace was a gym teacher (Kamoshida) who's abusing students (physically and sexually), and sees the high school as his castle, but ... I don't know. I wanted more. We're literally walking around inside a character's mind, why is the character study so shallow? He should have layers, like an onion, each more horrible than the last. Kawakami is the other teacher we know best at the start, and there's no sense of how he views her, whether she's a sex object to him, or a non-entity, or someone he's worried about, or what, and I kept expecting that narrative beat to happen. I don't know, I think my fanfic would just radically change the entire palace concept so we get ten times the interplay between real world and mental world, and so we can turn these characters inside out and see all their gross bits.

I wish that Joker spoke more often. He's not really a blank slate protagonist, but there's very little personality there, as much as I'm trying, and that means that other characters are driving the plot and scenes and in general being more interesting than him. This is just a matter of personal preference, and a place where I definitely depart from what the average JRPG enjoyer likes.

I generally enjoy the slice-of-life elements, and to a lesser extent, the time management, though there's a part of me that's just screaming that I should be looking at a guide to maximize values. And if I do that, I'll no longer be playing the game, I'll just be watching scenes and doing inputs. I am definitely not playing this game twice, so if there's a difference in endings, or a big chunk of content I might miss, so be it.

It's relatively low on the anime shit that I hate, though there's still plenty of time for me to be disappointed. The way they're handling Ann is ... kind of not great. She was sexually harassed and then immediately after they have this whole "nude modeling" plot that's played for laughs and titillation, and it's possibly just a me problem here (avoiding spoilers for now), but "girl who was leered at and sexually pressured by her gym teacher being then jokingly pressured by her friends to do sexual stuff she's uncomfortable with" is ... not how I would write it. (The answer to "how I would write Ann" would certainly be pretty long, and I haven't finished the game yet, so maybe it gets better, or gets given more meat in the hangouts or whatever.)

There's still time, but I sort of assume that we're just never going to go into the minds of the protagonists, which is a shame. Tons of possibilities there, and I think if they were going to explore any of them, they would have done it by now. I guess I feel the palaces are underdeveloped enough that I probably wouldn't be satisfied by how they treat the protagonists anyway, but it's what I would have done. Let me see a physical manifestation of how Ryugi feels about his alcoholic father. Let me see Joker's defiance. Let me see Ann's self-image. Show me links between these characters, the differences in how they see the social web.

The frame story for the game is an interrogation by the cops, and I am not a fan. Half the time they're just yanking me out of the story I was in the middle of to signpost "hey, this guy is important". Possibly this will all payoff later in some interesting way, like halfway through the game we reach the "present" and the frame breaks. I usually like that. I've had thoughts on the interesting ways the frame story could be used, and so far they haven't used it in those ways. (Also, there's a bit of weirdness where ... I am pretty sure that I was fighting shadows and using powers outside the Metaverse? Unless the interrogation is actually taking place within the Metaverse. Unsure whether I can register a prediction on this basis, or if there are just more mechanics/wrinkles later on. So far, the interrogation taking place within someone's Palace doesn't seem like it would comport with the rules/expectations that have been set up, but there's still time. I'd prefer not being spoiled if there is a clever payoff or twist.)

This game is apparently 100 hours long, which means it's going to take me forever to finish it. I am enjoying it in spite of any quibbles above, but I'm also feeling like it's only 80% of the game that I want it to be, partly down to execution and partly down to personal preference.

[sass-ruby]

okay. HOLY FUCKING SHI-

Sun² (dark sun) looks like he's thriving LMAO 😭

Let me just say, THANK YOU MOON FOR BEING SO CURIOUS

I'm curious too, so this satisfied me so much

We got A LOT of information, and one VERY jaw dropping one

So.. sun² created a paradise for himself and others, most likely suns but not every sun. That- that honestly sounds so sweet 😭 I'm pretty sure by psychotic, sun² meant like- do things without thinking, go insane, kill for no reason ect ect.. since he doesn't like violence from what I've been able to gather. The violence he has probably committed, I am guessing was necessary because sun² thinks reasonably

But I wonder- do suns go there when they die? Like, heaven? There are already people there.. but are those people suns or random people??

His dragon is there to be a protector so, it's most likely dead suns I think..? To protect them? That'd be so sweet, I hope that's the case

Goliath died, oof 😭 I never cared much about him but that ONE THING he said to sun once;

"You..might be pathetic, but you're so much more than them."

The fact that EVEN goliath, someone so egotistical, sees sun's morals.. yet others cant and just see it as being cowardly

Our sun has been proven to be the most empathetic among all suns. He HAS done bad, but hasn't continued to do so, he tried his best to make it right. I love him sm I swear

But oh goodness. There is one MOST important jaw dropping lore we got out of sun².

Oh my fucking gosh.

Oh my.

The fact he chose this sun specifically.. BECAUSE HE COULDN'T HAVE DONE IT HIMSELF.

We already knew he was like sun, but moon broke him. Just like how it usually goes in dimensions, here's the thing, though. Even if he did the same back to him, he could NEVER kill him.

Now there's more space to understand why he did it. He couldn't do it, he wanted to give other suns a chance.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

This is too shocking for me I'm sorry

I did not think that SUN² COULDN'T KILL HIS MOON

I guess that was a thing that truly connected all suns before sun's² whole thing

The fact our sun was the first, THE FIRST WHO WAS ABLE TO AND THAT IT WASN'T AN ACCIDENT.

Finally. FINALLY IT'S BEEN PROVEN HE'S SPECIAL IN SOME SORT OF WAY

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG

The "I hate him, but couldn't kill him" thing reminds me kinda of my mother and I, just with different context 😭 like- I hate her but can't hate her completely. I have mommy issues QwQ

I literally sometimes get so mad at how she treats me that I hope she dies.

Although- lets not get into that

The point I was trying to make is, even when you swear you hate someone close to you... ESPECIALLY YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD, you can never completely hate them.

That is only what I've been able to gather from other things like that

ALSO ALSO ALSO aLsOoOoooO

Why did sun² sound so unsure.. at that one part.

"I suppose nexus could sure try, if he was still around. Mumbles if he was still around..."

WHY DID HE SOUND SO UNSURE.

I wouldn't be surprised if he said it like that because he's seen how many times villains come back in this dimension ☠️☠️

LITERALLY I WOULDN'T BE SURPRISED

But if nexus comes back, SHIT.

A part of me believes he will. It's after Christmas, and the new tradition is that shit happens after Christmas because the October takeover tradition ended

AAAAAAAAAA

I'll be kinda happy about it, ONLY BECAUSE THE ANGSTTT

YAYAYYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAAAAA

Another also and another woa!! >:D

"why does EVERYTHING have to be US"

"you think I have that answer? Heh, even with my intelligence.. I can never answer that one."

EVEN SUN² ACKNOWLEDGES IT

Because the show runners need to feed us, that's the answer <333

Their lives are something else 😭 they have to deal with something new everyday. They can never catch a break

That would be all. BUT HAHSHHDD I LAUGHED SO HARD SEEING SUN² FLY HELPPPPP

He had his "I was a fairy" moment 🎀 NDNDJSJMS

okay now it's all :3

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[roxanne193018]

A part 3 of Lucifer’s implied (?) yandere stuffs ( i guess it’s not so implied anymore)

⚠️

Warning: spoilers Christmas event story and Lucifer (blow)

Here he is, yapping about his brothers again (not that I complain tho)

This dude. Everyone says he talks very little that Paradise Lost gang even blushed at his words every time he speaks bc apparently he rarely speaks. But bro is a YAPPER. A huge YAPPER when it comes to MC. (Like how most of us just yap all things to our love) from background conversations, to chats, to stories, if one sentence was enough to make the PL gang blush, then with the amount he says to MC, PL gang would orgasm till they faint.

Also, when MC said “oh, you are busy, why bother texting me?” He was like

“??Bc I’m a doctor, and I often check up on my patients,

But also bc I like you.

Gamigin almost form lifelong friendship with his patients! We doctors are dedicated…I am not that dedicated tho,

But I also have to check on you bc you are important to me.

I can ask everyone instead to know if you’re ill or not,

But I want to ask you directly tho.

Everyone is interested in you, ao I can ask everyone about you

But I’m also interested in you”

… very roundabout way of saying I am literally loving you, and you are important to me, and why are you pretending not to see it? Conflicting ahh birb

… notice him guys.

.

In the story, he actually keeps his “doctor profession”, by not touching his patient, (believe it or not). He wants to lick MC’s tears so bad, wants to be nice to her, wants to cherish it as lovers’ s*xy time and not a type of treatment, but he couldn’t bc everything he did then was to cure MC. So, he refrained himself from licking MC’s tears and kissing MC’s face. Meh, weird way for a doctors’ safe distance from patient, but that’ll do ig…

Again, he losts it at every card when MC said she likes doing this with him. Their relationship, feels kinda like situasionship smh haha. Both kept their cools, but loses their shjt when the other do lovers’ things to them.

He caters to MC’s liking to cure her, but in the end, he himself can’t keep his words of “not touching the patient”, and still kisses MC. As MC no longer has Christmas cold, she still clings to Lucifer for sexy time lol, bc it’s rare to spend time with him, and he knows, he thinks the same and doesn’t do allat doctor patient game anymo, just lovers’ stuffs from then on lmao.

Shows how MC makes him always loses his shjt, and he admits it fr 🤣

And finally, I still save the best for last.

So for context: he is texting MC to ask like “what type of magical possay you got, that this toy still have your love liquid on it after DAYS?”

… well look at that, you hypocrite lil shjt. I remember SOMEONE told Belphegor that him keeping the blanket that him and MC rolled on is unhygienic. And now you kept that toy UNWASHED on your office table for days, in the room that bans everyone from entering. If he washed it, he wouldn’t ask MC why it was still wet bc it would be cleanly dried long ago.

“At first, it vibrated with your smell” okay.. you kept that thing to occasionally sniff MC out? On God… like I said. He might be crazy like Asmo.

Next, he was FURIOUS, when he noticed that the candy cane reeks of other devils’ smells. (Apparently the Paradise Lost gang has used that to m*st*rb*t* lol) bc 1, he places it privately in his own office, a place no one dares to enter, and now they are doing IT in his no no office zone, and 2, it no longer entirely smells like MC, so he just decides to lock the entire PL gang up to punish 🤣🤣 and won’t let MC meet them for a good while. (Jealous boi)

Another thing I am wondering is that, it is canon that he gets hard every time he bumps into/ remembers/ sees MC (MC-sexual lol). The inclusion of the MC smelled candy cane in his office? Yeah… it will DEFINITELY make that man go absolute FERAL.

.

.

I realized how I over analyzing everything when it comes to Luci lmao. Probably mostly bc he has IMPLIED shjjj compared to Leviathan, who just literally smacks the heck outta MC if she makes him jealous, much easier to see.

[bettinadoodles]

Caleb's return

Caleb's return has finally been officially teased, but I'm still seeing a lot of folks confused about how he can return. Personally, I think the last chapter of the story sets his return up perfectly and might even suggest why he has been gone so long.

So let's get into it!

(This is going to get fairly long and include a handful of screenshots as supporting evidence, so follow below the cut)

So, in the last chapter, "Prologue to tomorrow - Eye of the Storm", the MC hunts down fragments of an Aether core that can manipulate space, called the Spatium core.

Right after Jenna points out that the center fragment of the Spatium core is still missing, she pulls MC to the side and tells her "there is more" before sending her the "Ever Secret Investigation report" and revealing there is information regarding what happened at Grandma's house in the report. The way Jenna leads into the topic suggests that a Spatium core fragment may have been involved, which could certainly explain how Caleb survived!

In the next scene, MC is outside, it starts raining, and the eye appears in the sky. This time the color of the eye bears a striking resemblance to Caleb's eyes. The MC says her heart responds to that eye. "The CALL I hear becomes clearer." The MC also says that behind the eye lies the power of the aether core.

It's not just the visual resembelance that connects the eye to Caleb. The teaser of Calebs's return being titled "When Home Calls" seems to be a pretty clear callback to that "call" the MC heard from the eye at the end of the last chapter. Especially considering it was the last thing to happen in the story before the update that will bring Caleb's return.

Of course, we dont yet have verification that the eye is connected to Caleb. However, it's noteworthy that the first eye's first appearance (chapter 1, story 9) is when Caleb was checking in on MC. It first starts raining unexpectedly, then Caleb calls, and when they hang up, MC notices the eye outside her window. (Originally, it was assumed by many this eye was related to Sylus, but Sylus uses Mephisto to spy, and since Sylus's release, there has been no indication that the eye is related to him.) Perhaps this is top secret military tech (funded by Ever) Caleb got access to thanks to his work at the DAA.

Now, about the Aether core that the MC sensed beyond the eye...

We don't know for sure whether Caleb was part of the same experiments as the MC, but it seems likely. From the "World Underneath - Sealed in Dust" story we know that MC and Caleb were both taken in by Josephine at the same time after the Chronorift Catastrophe. In her report, Josephine implies that she never planned on kids and took in the MC primarily due to guilt from the experiments. So it is unlikely she would have chosen to take in a random boy for no reason.

Some of the wording in the story imply there were more test subjects. Based on the nature of the project, I would guess the other test subjects are either children that displayed similar conditions/symptoms, or children they placed modified protocore/aether core fragments in attempting to recreate the results they got from the MC, their subject 001.

If we accept that Caleb could have been a test subjects, there is a fair chance he has an Aether core, or something like it.

Now for some theories!

My guess is that Caleb recieved the missing Spatium core fragment during the experiments.

While the Sylus chapters more or less confirmed Ever is ultimately behind the explosion, their motivation is unclear. Were they just tying up loose ends, or were they trying to also trigger the MC's/Caleb's aether cores?

Wether intentional or not, it seems likely Caleb survived the explosion thanks to the Spatium core. Now the real question is, where did it take him? We know that the spatium core has the power to create what are essentially pocket dimensions built from dreams or memories. Could he be trapped there? It could explain why he hasn't returned all this time despite being alive. Will the MC need to go in there to get him out?

What if unlike the space the MC got trapped in with Zayne that was built on his nightmares, Caleb's space is built on his dreams...? And the MC seeing it is the catalyst for their relationship shifting?