#i had to look up what finger purity rings go on for this and im pretty sure i got the wrong hand anyway oops

[spiteful-art]

Drawing Gwen didn't fix me so have Trent, moments before Duncan beats his Bible camp ass

@hollowboobtheory did you know Jesus loves you?

[shotosprincess]

BAKUGO SCREAMING AND IZUKU

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ AAAA HIII TYSM FOR REPLYING TO THE BNHA PLAYLIST THINGY FOR FICS I LOVE YOU MWAHMWAH

anyways aaa bet !! ill do midoriya first if you don’t mind bc im currently in such a soft mood and hajdjj i just love him sm :((

— 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙪 𝙢𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙮𝙖’𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨

inspired by this playlist by nimbus on yt !! pls check them out ansjdjf their playlists r heaven ^^

❝ you never truly understood that about him, the way he continued to put himself through the pain, to push himself, even, past his limits and then some—

plus ultra. and now his arms were all but littered with rough scars of diluted white and blunt tan. ❞

notes ! gender neutral! reader,, best friends to lovers au ,, 2nd person pov

summary: in which your best friend deku shows up at your dorm late at night due to kacchan locking him out. he asks for bandages to stabilize his newly-healed scars, and you ask to kiss them.

genre: fluff !! <33

it went without a doubt that deku had been to recovery girls’ office more times than anyone else at the academy. it hurt, honestly; each time you saw his still-healing figure emerge from the little swing of her door, a sharp pang reverberated starkly through your chest, for though the freshly-scarred over wounds didn’t diminish his beauty in the slightest, you simply couldn’t deny that an empty eddy of sadness settled in you whenever he was in such a state.

and unfortunately for you, he was constantly in it.

his body could only take so much. and he was still so young too—the very same held true for your heart.

it’s been that way ever since the two of you had first entered ua as shining, eager students. though in all fairness you had to admit, he was...different from the very beginning. even as the prelude to his eventual rising and growth in his quirk, he had shone with a certain unmatched brilliance ever since the entrance exams. and over the years you spent together, you had watched him persevere so passionately towards the glow of his ultimate goal; to be a hero who can help others. little did he know just how much he already had. he had always been so excruciatingly oblivious and aloof to even the evidence and affects of his own kindness, and you hated the fact that so many tended to take advantage of it. of him.

though, of course, this did not mean that he was weak in any form. no, if anything he was quite the polar opposite—he had proved it time and time again, and yet it didn’t mean that he couldn’t get hurt too. the dull aching of tiredness ringing in his eyes, the one he tries to desperately to mask, the ragged marks scattered across the pale valleys of his once-scar-barren skin; he wasn’t immune to pain, to injury. and yet, he fought. you never truly understood that about him, the way he continued to put himself through the pain, to push himself, even, past his limits and then some—

plus ultra. and now his arms were all but littered with rough scars of diluted white and blunt tan.

nevertheless, truth be told, you actually admired it a great deal. his sheer determination, the purity of his motives, it was more than laudable. despite all of it, you truly couldn’t help but feel this...magnetic urge to help him. protect him. if you could soothe the pain in any way, even if it would be but a temporary relief—

three knocks clack on the door.

you and izuku’s secret door code—just a silly little something the two of you made up a few months after the dorm system had been put into motion, and all so you could sneak out to the grass-flooded yards of the building and train together.

naturally, you open the door.

“ heyyy there you are! “

your head perks up at the cheery jingling of his voice, all drafts of exhaustion and sleep deprivation washing away almost instantaneously. he might as well be the very personification of caffeine at that point, despite how direly he needed it himself.

the starry shine of his eyes meets with yours as a diluted sanguine seeped colour into his face. he turns his head away awkwardly.

you lean against the doorframe, smiling at him. “ deku...you didn’t tell me we’d be training today. plus it’s a little late right now, don’t you think? i’m already in my pajamas. “

“ yeah, um, sorry about that. kacchan...kinda locked me out. “

“ he what? “

“ he locked me out. “

“ how does that even—don’t you have separate rooms? “

“ well, yeah, but we were racing down the halls after glass today and he...got to my room before i could. well, honestly i have no clue what he’s doing over there. “ he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“ oookay then. little concerning, i won’t lie. “ your shoulders lift in a shrug, arms crossing in front of your chest as your shy laugh matches his.

“ so i was wondering if...you know...i could maybe stay here for a bit? “ his voice wavers subtly, though you’re quick to catch it. the tips of his ears flush with a deepened pink.

you can’t help but silently gush about how cute he looked.

you’re quick to snap out of that too. eyes bursting open with a brilliant shock, you notice he’s fiddling nervously with his fingers as you remain absolutely, positively frozen in place.

“ i’m—what? “

his countenance immediately shifts to one of sheer embarrassment. flustered, he begins to frantically wave his hands in front of him, as if to put some sort of considerable distance between his panicking self and your seemingly-composed demeanour. and as if that would do anything to deescalate the tension which was only progressively building between your equally-timid selves at this moment.

“ ohmygod i didn’t mean it in a weird way or anything! i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’ll just—i’ll just go— “

you slide against the wood a little bit, pushing your weight against the slightly-agape door, so it swung open even further to reveal the, admittedly, fairly-messy state of your room. draped carelessly on the side of your bed, a sweater you had taken off earlier because the temperature of your room had suddenly decided to heat up an unreasonable amount. countable cups holding shallow pools of hour-old drinks scattered throughout nearly every shelf. a creased textbook splayed out, cover up on your desk.

yep. definitely looked like someone’s lived here.

“ i mean...you could come in if you want. no one’s stopping you. it’s a little messy though, i haven’t found much time to properly clean it yet, with exams coming soon and stuff. “ a small smile accompanies your growing blush, despite how much you were trying to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

psh, right. as if letting him in your room—something you had never done prior in the history of your friendship—wasn’t a big deal in the slightest.

his eyes shoot wide as his arms flail about. you have to keep yourself from laughing at his silliness.

“ uhm, i mean...only if that’s okay with you! “

“ yeah, yeah, of course! you need a place to stay for now, after all. who knows when bakugou’s gonna let you back in? “

“ yeah, i guess you’re right. well, i mean, if you really don’t mind— “

you playfully roll your eyes, giggling as you shove him into your room.

“ oh, quit it with the politeness. you’re too nice, you know that? “

“ too...nice? “

“ too nice. “ you reiterate, giving his shoulders a little squeeze.

his head lolls to the side as he carefully lowers himself onto your bed, his sweater shifting with the subtle movement.

for a few moments, the space between you is occupied with a simple, comfortable silence. it’s refreshing, really. a welcome difference from all the boisterousness of the academy. you loved the action and everyone’s energy, of course, but sometimes what you really needed was really just a simple break from everything. to do nothing but exist for a little while, to simply be without the constant pressure of having to get up and jump into action all the time. just for a few moments. and so you relished in these said moments spent with him, for who knows when the next time you could ever be with him like this again would be?

and then his voice fills that void of silence, but you’re not disappointed in the slightest.

“ hey. “

“ yeah? “

“ you don’t happen to have any extra bandages, do you? “

“ bandages? for what? “

he clenches his fist, flexing the muscles in his arm. “ for...stability. just in case. i can’t afford for my arms to get hurt more. “

“ oh. well, uhm...i think i have a few spares in my drawer! “ you push yourself off the bed, leaving the comfort the soft sheets brought about, pulling open a tiny drawer. taking out a transparent box of bandages, you jump back onto the plushness, sitting cross-legged directly across from midoriya, who’s already presenting his arm.

your lips silently part as your fingers wrap themselves around the thick ivory fabrics of bandage, rolling them around so you could wrap them around him.

another pause of wordless silence falls.

“ hey deku? “

“ yeah? “

“ could i...could i kiss your scars? “ you whisper, afraid that he’d get mad, though you knew he was anything but the type to do such a thing.

the meadow depths of his eyes kindle a cozy hearth within you as his initial surprise quickly softens, melting away into what could only be described as the most endearing smile to exist.

“ sure. “

jagged patches and uneven streaks of faded cloud white and prominent earthy tans decorate his arms, and you can’t help but bring the rosiness of your lips to meet them. you decide begin with the ones littered along his fingers.

one kiss for the scar resting within the curved dip between his thumb and index.

“ for every time you used just a flick of your fingers to defend everyone back then, when you didn’t even have full control over your quirk. “

a longing sigh leaves him as he reminisces briefly on the memory. you place a soft kiss upon the scar resting at the side of his pinky.

“ for every fist you made with this hand, for every punch you’ve delivered in the name of other’s safety. “

a drop splashed onto his arm, trickling down and tainting the scars etched into his forearm with a subtle, diaphanous sheen. you look up through your lashes, and a prominent gloss coats the kindness of his dark emeralds. your hand comes up to carefully caress his cheek, cupping it gently as the pad of your thumb swipes beneath his eye, wiping away the upcoming tear. your features are knitted together in concern.

“ are you okay? i can stop if you want me to— “

he takes your hand in both of his, squeezing as if to keep you there forever. “ no, don’t. please.“

it’s a tiny whisper, a softened plea into the dark quiet of the night, as if he were ashamed for wanting to be taken care of. your brows curve downward as you pull your twined hands to your lips, tenderly planting your lips where your skin kissed his.

“ hey, hey. it’s okay. it’s okay. “ you hush him, running your free hand through his thick tendrils of vivid, verdant green.

he leans into your touch, nodding at you as if to urge you to continue, which you gladly accept.

you shift a little closer to him, kissing the thick mark of serration painted into the skin of his wrist.

“ for every countless moment you’ve sacrificed for your dream. “

another kiss to the one just above it.

“ for every hour bled into the night that you spent helping me train. “

your fingers dance along his arm, finally stopping at the scar stretching from his elbow and dragging upwards. as per routine, your lips come down to delicately kiss it.

“ for every ‘ plus ultra! ‘ you’ve ever passionately shouted. “

little giggles left the both of you at that.

your touch trails to the scar just beside it, kissing it as well.

“ for every life you’ve ever saved. “

you look him in the eye. holding his arm like this, you were so close to him. and yet, you didn’t want to pull away. if anything, it was the very last thing you would ever want to do. he matched your stare, a certain sense of longing displaying in your gaze as it reflects off of his. the prolonged stare lasts longer than it probably should, longer than what best friends should probably look at each other this closely, this intimately for. the moonlight dimly shines through your window.

and then it happens.

his lips collide with yours in a captivating symphony, hands going straight to twirl through the locks of your hair as you wrap yours in a loose loop around his neck. everything feels as though it had all snapped into place, and the tension you had felt before was all completely dissipated now, displaced into the passion in which this kiss exuded. it was earth-shattering, galaxy-shredding. it felt as if even pain itself could never reach either of you, not in this moment.

this moment was for the both of you, and no one else. in this moment, in his arms, nothing and no one could hurt you.

he pulls away, stunned, lips parted with a saturated red. you stare at him with just about the same level of blankness, of utter shock at what you two had just done.

but then the realization catches up with him, and he is pulled out of the daze. much to your surprise, he doesn’t move away. if anything, he pulls you closer, enveloping both your hands within his just as he did before.

and just as you had done earlier, he brings them to his lips.

“ and that’s for every ‘ i love you ‘ i’ve ever wanted to say to you but never had the guts to. “

[liannyeong]

Crimson (Chapter 14)

Summary: A sacrifice must be made.

Word count: 4703

Pairing: Jaebeom X OC

Warning(s): angst, mentions of blood, character death

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

A/N: Just one more chapter to go before this fic comes to an end! Do let me know your thoughts! Show your support for my works by buying me a coffee! Follow me on Twitter for random updates.

It's been days since Yujin was brought to the Ancient Cave. It's a mystical place -- the walls are carved with symbols that Yujin can't recognize, each of them glowing a bright green. She guesses they are magic runes, perhaps to protect the sanctity of the place. The cave itself is lit up with torches of green flames that never seem to burn out.

Yena had left her here after their encounter in the forest, telling her to prepare herself for the ritual. But Yujin can barely wait. She's all ready to give her heart up. She's all ready to move on and forget this cruel life.

“The ritual can only be performed when the fae and his human love are present together,” Yena had explained, much to Yujin’s disappointment. She had hoped she wouldn’t see Jaebeom anymore. But at the same time, she does want to see the look upon his face as the ritual is conducted. Would he look regretful at least? Or would he look at her with indifference? 

What does it matter? Yujin scolds herself. It's not like she can back out anymore. And she’ll definitely not be coaxed out of it. Perhaps, it's just her heart yearning to see his face for the last time.

Yujin is broken from her thoughts when she hears an echo of voices. Her ears automatically tune in to the one voice that her heart has been wanting to hear. She feels the swell in her heart as it gets louder and closer. Why does her heart feel this way? While her mind is determined to end this, why is her heart reluctant? Why is her heart and mind at war?

"-- Why did you bring me here?" Jaebeom's voice booms in the cave. The moment he steps in, the moment he lays his eyes on Yujin, he freezes. His eyes go wide. Perhaps he didn’t anticipate her in this cave.

“Y-Yujin…?” he calls out weakly, as if he doesn’t believe that she’s real.

He shuffles forward slowly, cautiously. There’s ample time for Yujin to back away from him, but she remains rooted to the ground. Jaebeom holds out a hand, raising it to her face. His fingers are inches away from her face, almost touching her cheek--

Then Yujin blinks, snapped out of a trance. She backs away, repelling from his touch. She sees the way Jaebeom's face falls, the look of dismay scribbled all over his face.

“Shall we begin?” Yena suggests, curling an innocent smile on her lips.

Yujin promptly nods, diverting her attention to the Air fae instead. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the slump of the male’s broad shoulders as he shifts to the other corner.

Yena circles an arm in a fluid motion before thrusting her hand forward. A gust of wind blew from her hand, so strong that it nearly extinguished the torches. Dust has been cleared away, revealing a circular rune on the ground that Yujin didn’t notice before. There are symbols lined along the circumference of the inner circle, caged by the outer ring. The inner circle itself contains geometric shapes -- squares, circles, straight lines -- with two semicircles at the core.

“Step into the center, and we can begin,” Yena says, gesturing at the two.

Yujin easily obeys, standing on one semicircle. Jaebeom, on the other hand, stays where he is. He bears a frown on his face, as if he’s having second thoughts.

“Yujin,” he says her name so gently, it could have made her go weak in her knees, “You don’t have to do this...”

Yujin wants to laugh. He’s just one step away from getting what he wants, and yet he’s hesitating? What a fool.

She tips her chin up, determined, "Let's get this done and over with."

Jaebeom moves a moment later, still reluctant. He stands on the other semicircle. She would prefer to look at anywhere else but his face, but in this position, he's directly in her line of vision.

“You may begin the ritual,” Yena announces, backing away into the wall.

“We don't have to do this, Yujin," Jaebeom mutters, "We can still work things out--”

“It’s too late for that, don’t you think?” Yujin interjects, glaring at him.

“Yujin, please..." he whispers, sadness in his voice. Even though he's just calling her name, it strikes a chord in her heart. But Yujin has to shake it all away. This is the best that she decides for herself, and for him.

Ultimately, Yujin knows he'll be happy in the long run, with his newly gained powers. He has spent most of his life -- if not all -- being an outcast and looked down upon by the entire faefolk. Yujin reckons it’s time he claims the honor and respect that he deserves. Besides, she's sure the sorrow that Jaebeom feels -- if any at all -- will be short-lived. There is another love waiting for him after this. She’s sure he’ll be healed by it.

"I'm doing this for you, after all," Yujin admits quietly. 

An expression passes over Jaebeom's face, his eyes glistening, his lips trembling slightly. If he's feeling remorseful now, it is of no use. 

Jaebeom tentatively raises his hand, reaching out for Yujin's face. She lets him. She lets the male cup her cheek and brush the skin there. She closes her eyes, revelling in the warmth of his palm for the last time.

A beat passes before Yujin opens her eyes again.

"Perform the ritual, Jaebeom," she says. "Please."

He nods slowly, still reluctant, before shifting his palm to Yujin's chest, right where her heart is. Then, he recites the same spell he once shared with Yunho:

Here I bring

A mortal heart.

Its love so pure;

It strengthens me.

Let the magic come

And give me strength.

In the next moment, Yujin feels warmth blossoming from her chest, spreading to the rest of her body. She feels the ground beneath her start to shake. The rune below starts to glow a bright turquoise. A force beam emerges from the ground, engulfing both Yujin and Jaebeom, its rays of light illuminating the cave. The warmth that she feels starts to burn through her skin, as if she's doused in oil, set aflame, and left to burn. She screams, the pain searing, her back arching. She doesn't notice the way Jaebeom's crimson eyes go wide, his face stricken with horror. And she definitely doesn't notice the huge grin on Yena's face.

Everything disappears and then, Yujin's vision goes white.

---

All she sees is white. The purity of the color is so blinding to her eyes, that Yujin can't help but wince. It takes her some time before she can adjust to the room, if it's even one. It's an endless space of white, nothing else in view.

"Hello, Shin Yujin," a voice calls out from behind, startling her.

A woman stands behind her, almost blending in with the background due to her pale skin, her white gown. Her hair is silver, her eyes bear a grayish tint. She wears a silver-plated circlet with a clear quartz at its centre.

Yujin swallows her throat, her heart pounding in her ears. Will this woman gouge her heart out?

"Don't be afraid," she says, coming closer, "I'm Sowon, a White fae."

Yujin blinks up at her, lost.

The woman starts to circle around her, as she continues, "All the faes that you have encountered in the physical realm are elemental faes. White faes, however, exist in the spirit realm. We are the guardians of the spirits, guiding them as they travel between realms."

Sowon stops right in front of Yujin. She raises her arms, gesturing at the white space. "This is the Transitional State,” she states, then looks at Yujin directly in the eye. "You are a spirit."

"What?" Yujin lets out weakly, confused.

The White fae snaps her fingers and the same magic rune in the Ancient Cave is projected in the air.

"You chose to sacrifice for a halfling called Im Jaebeom," Sowon says.

Yujin nods. "But-- But why am I a spirit? Doesn’t the ritual only require a mortal love?”

Sowon stares at her for a moment, as if expecting her to continue. When Yujin doesn’t, the White fae lets out a sigh, shaking her head slightly.

"You don’t know," she realizes. She proceeds to explain, "What the ritual requires is a mortal’s heart -- a physical heart -- that possesses a pure love for the fae. Thus, you’re sacrificing your physical heart and that will render you dead."

She holds out a hand, uncurling her fingers, revealing a small cube suspended just above her palm. It looks empty, worthless. "Your entire heart will be transferred here, converting itself into an endless flow of energy -- and power."

Realization dawns on Yujin. Not only will she lose all her feelings for Jaebeom, she will have to give up her life for him. In exchange for the power that he craves for. Yujin clenches her fists. Is the restoration of Jaebeom's power really worth her life? Or should she back out now, and leave him to suffer as a powerless fae in the woods?

"How tragic," Sowon utters, shaking her head in disapproval. "It’s already a forbidden spell, yet they were so wicked to lie to you about its requirement.”

Did Jaebeom know the true requirement? Or did he keep it a secret from her too? Yujin feels a tear trickle down her cheek.

"Tell me, dear Yujin, do you wish to proceed with this sacrifice?” Sowon asks, sounding genuinely concerned as she brushes the teardrop away. 

Yujin exhales deeply. What does it matter anyway? Whether the ritual requires her heart or her life, it doesn’t change the fact that at the end of the day, it’s Jaebeom who will reap the benefits. He’ll possess greater power, greater influence, and he’ll be able to take Yena as his true bride. It would no longer matter if she's dead or alive. He won't need her afterwards. He’ll proceed to live on as if nothing happened. She will just be another heart he has crushed, just another mortal that passed on. 

Yujin reaches out to take the cube, but Sowon retracts her hand just a little. She has her head cocked to the side, finding it odd.

“Why?” she asks, blinking at Yujin with curious eyes.

Why? Yujin questions herself. The answer is simple: love. Despite having her heart trampled on, be used and abused, the love she harbors for the Fire fae overpowers. Yes, he may have utter sweet words and promises as a tool to manipulate her. But she was the one who let herself believe in them. She was the one who let her heart be swayed by him. She has fallen so deeply in love with him that she's willing to do anything. Even if it means giving up her life for him to be with someone else. Even if it means removing herself from the picture.

“Because I love him,” Yujin answers simply, much to Sowon’s surprise.

“Truly, your love for the fae is of the purest form,” Sowon acknowledges, with a nod.

The woman offers the cube on her palm. Yujin takes a deep breath before grasping it.

"We shall meet again, Shin Yujin," Sowon bids goodbye, disappearing into the whiteness of the place.

A moment later, Yujin feels something being ignited from deep within. Her body temperature starts to rise. Energy surges in her, coursing through her veins. Then, she feels a kind of current in her. The energy from the crown of her head to the tip of her feet flows to her chest, her heart pounding hard. There's a crack, and then, her chest is ripped open. Yujin screams in pain, her pitch high and deafening. Tears stream down her face, and despite the blurry vision, she catches a glimpse of wisps of mist -- stained a deep red -- coming out from her heart. The vapors diffuse into the cube in her hand.

When the last speck is absorbed, Yujin drops to the floor, barely able to open her eyes.

---

When Jaebeom blinks, he’s greeted by the sight of Yujin being suspended in the air. Previously, he was in the cave, standing on the magic rune that gleams after he uttered the spell. He last remembers hearing Yujin’s shrill screams. Now, in this vast space of white, there’s only the two of them. Crimson clouds shroud Yujin’s body, drifting towards an object in her hand. She doesn't notice his presence even though her eyes are wide open. Her face is contorted in pain, her back arching that he swears it could snap into two.

Just what is going on?

"Y-Yujin?" Jaebeom calls out, but receives no response at all.

He takes a step forward, coming closer to the female. He sees how Yujin's eyes are filled black in its entirety, how her skin turns pale. Nausea hits him, because beneath all that mist, her chest is split open. It’s a grotesque sight: her heart peeks through, still alive and beating albeit weakly. Strangely, there is no blood oozing out, only vapors. Observing the trail, Jaebeom realizes, to his horror, that the red mist is actually drawn out from her heart! The red fumes are actually vaporized blood!

Jaebeom rushes forward frantically, repeatedly yelling her name. He hopes her eyes would open, that she would regain consciousness. But nothing happens. So he tries to grab her wrist through the smoke. There seems to be an invisible force that cocoons her, because Jaebeom feels a spark at his fingertips before he is sent flying.

He lands on his back, hard. He groans. Still, it doesn't deter him from attempting to stop the process. Jaebeom sprints toward her, once more trying to pull her out. Again, the same force flings his body backward.

In his desperation, Jaebeom tries to come up with a different strategy. One particular method stands out in his mind, and he doesn’t waste any time. He shuts his eyes, and takes a deep breath to steady himself. He searches for Yujin’s unconscious mind. The Lover's bond that they share makes it easier for him to locate her, but he can’t seem to tap into her mind at all. It’s like he’s barred from entering it. It’s like there is a protective shield that holds him off. No matter how much he tries, he cannot break through.

Jaebeom hears a thud. He snaps his eyes open, hoping that somehow it worked. That somehow, the process is halted. But no, it’s already too late. He sees the last speck of vapor in the air, travelling to the object that was in Yujin’s hand. Her body is almost lifeless, eerily still.

The fae rushes to her side, pulling her body into his arms. Her clothing has a spatter of red at the front, the material ripped down to her ribcage. She’s breathing faintly, so Jaebeom presses his palm into the open wound, hoping it'll stop the bleeding.

"Yujin, please--" he cries out. "Respond to my voice, please--"

The female shifts slightly, her eyes slowly fluttering open just a little bit. She must have realized who he is, for she shoots him a weak smile.

"It’s all yours now," she mutters, voice raspy and weak. Her hand twitches by her side, slowly uncurling to reveal a cube. It whirs loudly, a striking red light pulsing in the grooves.

Soon after, her body starts to disintegrate into dust. Jaebeom envelops her into a tight hug, desperately trying to hold onto the remains of her body. He hopes it’ll make her stay longer. But no, there is no effect at all. Her body continues to turn into ashes.

"No! No, no, no!" Jaebeom screams out, hysterical. Tears are streaming down his face. With the last bit of time he has, he holds her just a little closer, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Goodbye, Jaebeom," is the last thing he hears before the last bit of her existence slips through his fingertips, carried away by an invisible force, then fading away.

---

Jaebeom returns to the Ancient Cave alone, kneeling on the rune. Yujin is nowhere to be seen. Just a few moments ago, he was holding her in his arms, hugging her tight.

He belatedly notices the cube on the ground, left behind by Yujin herself. With shaking hands, he picks it up. Jaebeom feels its weight on his palm despite it being small, and he feels it pulse against his skin. In the next moment, the object melts becoming liquid, before seeping into the ridges of his skin.

Jaebeom feels stronger; the power making its way to him. The veins in his hand start to glow red. He watches as the energy flows through his body, illuminating his veins as it travels. His core feels a tad warmer, and he's sure any flames he produces will be fiercer than ever before.

“Jaebeom, you did it! You got the power!” Yena rejoices, coming forward excitedly, “This calls for a celebration! You’re invincible now!””

Despite that, Jaebeom can’t comprehend what happened. Yes, he has gained the powers he desired so much, but... Yujin is now gone. He feels a void in his chest, and he just knows it cannot be patched up.

“But Yujin...” he trails off, teary-eyed. “I lost her…”

“No, Jaebeom, she gave her life for you. She was willing to do it. Don't blame yourself for the decisions she made--"

But Jaebeom can't believe it. How did it end up like this? It was a rapid turn of events, that his mind still can't process it yet. Days ago, they were so in love, so happy together. Ever since they returned from the autumn celebration hosted by the Air court, Yujin seemed a little off -- more distant, in fact. She reasoned that she wasn't feeling good, so Jaebeom left her to rest. But the next thing he knew, Han, the Earth fae servant tasked to monitor the Garden, informed him that Yujin had ventured into the area. How surprised he was to find Yujin at the fountain, fully regaining the memories that he took away.

Jaebeom couldn't help the anger he felt towards himself then. He couldn't help the regret he felt from keeping the memories. He should have destroyed the fountain when he had the chance to. He shouldn't have ordered an Earth fae to construct the Garden in order to protect the fountain. He was so reluctant to destroy Yujin’s memories because revisiting them was the only way he could experience being close to her again. It helped him live. It made him happy. 

But how was he to know that Yunho actually implanted his own memories into the fountain after his death? He was so preoccupied with having the real Yujin by his side that he overlooked the fountain. Despite Yujin asking about the Garden multiple times, Jaebeom thought he could get away with it. He thought Yujin's curiosity would die down as time passed by. Oh, how foolish he was! He should have just wiped away Yujin’s memories mercilessly without keeping it in any form at all. Even so, how can he? He cherished Yujin so much, he couldn’t bear to eradicate their childhood memories.

Still, Jaebeom doesn’t have anyone but himself to blame. Seeing Yujin so determined in performing the ritual, it is enough evidence of the pain he has inflicted upon her. Just how much pain has he put her through, for her to be so willing to throw the memories they have, the love they share? Perhaps he will never know now.

Despite his reluctance, he ended up proceeding with the ritual. Yena was the one who informed him of it years ago, when Yujin was still oblivious about the faefolk. They theorized that the sacrifice is merely the emotion of love, leaving the person unscathed.

Now, it proved to be false. Jaebeom didn't expect Yujin to be put through excruciating pain. He had thought the spell required just a mortal love. He didn't understand why she had to go through such a painful process. Why did she turn into dust if all they needed was her feelings?

"-- You finally have the power you have long sought for! Why does it matter if she's alive or not? If anything, you should be grateful that she'll no longer be a distraction to our mission!"

Something about Yena's comment snaps Jaebeom from his thoughts. Something about it brings about a flare of anger in him. Impulsively, he blasts a ball of fire towards the Air fae. His flames used to be orange, but now, it possesses a beautiful blue. Out of reflex, Yena crosses her arms, projecting a protective barrier that disperses the flames.

"What are you doing?!” Yena yells, startled by Jaebeom's sudden attack.

The Fire fae ignites both his hands into flames, bringing them together before pulling them apart. A whip of fire is conjured, without any tangible rope holding the flames. Jaebeom lashes the makeshift weapon toward Yena, successfully grabbing her by the ankle. She cries out, her ankle scorched by the fire. Jaebeom yanks her towards him, and she falls to the ground. He seizes her by the neck, holding her up in the air.

“You knew?" Jaebeom bellows, fury written all over his face. "You knew the ritual would kill her?”

“Of course I knew--” the Air fae chokes out, clutching at his wrist. Her nails scratch against his skin, but he pays it no mind.

“And you hid it from me?”

“If I didn't, you wouldn’t have done it--!”

Jaebeom hurls the female to the side, her body hitting the rough rocks of the cave. He hears her whimper in pain, but he doesn't care. He stomps over, and with his foot, he kicks her body to lay flat on her back. He presses his heel on her chest, ruthless, even as her face is flushed with a deep red, her lungs constricted.

"Why?" he spits.

"J-Jaebeom, p-please--" she chokes out, trying to relieve the pressure from his foot. “I can’t breathe--”

Jaebeom removes his foot, much to the relief of the Air fae. She gasps for air.

“If I had told you, that mortal will only hamper our progress. She's nothing but a distraction to you. I did what is right, to keep you focused on our plan!”

Jaebeom stares her down. "Perhaps I would have married you if you hadn't lied to me."

Confusion passes over Yena's face. “J-Jaebeom…?” she croaks out, unsure.

"Perhaps I would have married you if I loved you more. I regard you as a sister, nothing more," he continues. “This is too late but... I have led you on for so long, only to realize that I can never love you the same way I love Yujin.”

"You can't do this to me! You can't betray me like this!" she shrieks, grabbing Jaebeom’s legs. Tears start to stream down her face. Yena is out of her wits, totally deranged. "You promised me you would-- You can't--! I have been waiting so long for you! I stayed by your side for so long! You can't do this to me-- Jaebeom, please. You can't leave me--"

Jaebeom tugs her away so that he can crouch down comfortably.

"I'm sorry, Yena, but I can't do it," he mutters. "I hope you'll stay by my side as a loyal friend."

Yena's face darkens. She rises, albeit a little wobbly on her legs. Her fists are clenched tight by her sides.

"No, no, no! No, you can’t do this to me-- What do you take me for? A fool?" she growls. "Whether you love me or not, it no longer matters. Yujin is now dead, and you have to marry me, else you can never have the army you need to conquer all the fae courts!"

Jaebeom stands on his feet. He brings up a hand, and blue flames immediately envelop his skin, up to his wrist. He turns his palm over, mesmerized by the intensity of it.

“I’m sure I can still conquer the fae courts without marrying you,” he says simply.

"If I can't have you, then no one can!" Yena spits before rapidly circling her hands. A sphere of air is created around Jaebeom's head, taking away the oxygen he needs. It’s suffocating, the air from his lungs is also drawn out.

Jaebeom struggles to think straight, but he ignites his entire body with fire. The heat prickles his skin but it's only a slight discomfort. Then, it sets off an explosion, scattering the flames in all directions. The air sphere dissipates and Jaebeom can breathe again. He catches his breath for a moment before he points his fist at Yena, set ablaze, ready to strike.

But there is a stench of burning flesh, the fire has already engulfed the Air fae. Her skin starts to peel off like strips. Puffs of heavy black smoke fill the air, her deafening screams ringing in the cave. Then, Yena drops to the ground, moving only ever slightly, before she goes completely still.

Just like that, the Princess of the Air court is dead.

---

"Shin Yujin has passed on."

The words taste bitter on Jaebeom’s tongue, its weight heavy. He is not ready to accept the fact that Yujin is gone. He desperately wishes that it's all a dream, and that he’s just waiting to wake up. But his enhanced powers are clear evidence that it’s real. That he felt Yujin’s body disintegrating in his arms, that he heard her last goodbye.

Even though he’s still in denial, the only thing he can do for Yujin is to properly send her off. He decided to hold the procession at the Garden. The fountain is now gone, its water dried when Jaebeom returned. The Earth faes in the house help to erect a tombstone to honor Yujin. Everyone mourns for her, their heads down. Yeri herself is bawling her eyes out.

Jaebeom stays still, silently gazing at the tombstone. Only when the crowd disperses did the fae let his emotions flow. The sorrow floods his entire being, and he can’t help the tears from falling. He thinks of her, recalling all the memories they created together. 

Initially, he was planning on making Yujin fall for him. He wanted her to trust him entirely. But the more he spent time with her, the more sincere he was. He genuinely enjoyed her company. It was as if he was the same youth Jaebeom who didn’t frown at the world. Momentarily, Jaebeom had forgotten about his original intention. Unbeknownst to him, Yujin had planted the seed of love in his heart. It sprouted through his chest, and bloomed flowers of love.

Now, it’s all too late. He underestimated how dear Yujin is to him. In the end, it wasn’t Yujin who was foolish. It’s Jaebeom himself. Yunho was right; he was blinded by his lust for power to see what truly matters most to him.

Jaebeom senses another presence nearby. He breathes before addressing him, “Scold me if you wish. Mock me for my foolishness. I deserve it.”

He hears a deep sigh from behind. Muffled footsteps, and then a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. 

“You didn’t know,” Jinyoung responds. “Don’t blame yourself for it.”

"But I should have looked into it. I should have checked the facts for myself. Why didn’t I delve deeper?"

“That’s enough, brother,” Jinyoung placates, sliding an arm around his broad shoulders. “What’s done is done. We cannot turn back time.”

“If only I could…” the Fire fae mumbles. "What am I supposed to do now? I'm so lost. And the Air court--” He sighs. “I have incurred the wrath of the Air court.”

“First, live for her," Jinyoung says, nodding at the tombstone. "After everything, Yujin still willingly gave up her life for you, so that you can proceed with your cause. The least you can do is make sure that her sacrifice wasn’t futile. So live on for her sake."

There’s a pause.

“Next, we shall overthrow the fae courts, one by one, starting with the Air court.”

[ill-skillsgard]

Would you ever write about Faust making Faith squirt for the first time cause that would be the hottest thing ever.

Warning: 18+ SMUT. Anal play, sex toys, size kink, possessive sex, strong anti-Christian themes, squirting, angst, feelings.

Note: I really hope you guys enjoy this one! Please let me know your thoughts and reblog/like if you can! I’d appreciate it. 

Faust x Faith Masterpost [x]

"You didn't wear the outfit," Faust murmured against Faith's lips. 

"Sorry. I forgot. You got here so quick."

He took hold of the metal loop dangling at her neck and smirked. "But you wore this for me."

"I thought you'd like it," Faith giggled. 

"You think you're some kind of naughty girl? Do you think this collar makes you bad?"

Faith shrugged. 

"Do you know what happens to girls who wear things like this?" 

She grabbed his hands and placed them on her chest. "Why don't you show me?" 

"You couldn't handle it," he chuckled. 

Faith wasn't in the mood to convince Faust to do what he wanted with her. He'd gotten it lodged in his head that she was too delicate, but she wanted him to overpower her and make her hurt in that viciously pleasurable way she dreamt of. 

"Come on, Faust, you were the one who said you wanted to wreck this pussy. You won't take advantage of our last couple of nights together by making me never forget them?"

"You say that like I'm never coming back."

Faust nipped her bottom lip, palms sliding down her ribs to the back of her skirt. He pulled it up and squeezed her ass in both hands, watching her face change shapes any time he compressed her skin.

"You're going away for weeks. Who knows what will happen? Maybe you'll find a new girl and forget all about me."

Faust loosened his and shook his hair out of his face. "Don't say that."

"Im just kidding," she chuckled, leaning in for a kiss and meeting the crest of his cheekbone instead. 

"What?" Faith asked. 

"I'm serious. Why do you think that way?"

She pulled away to focus on the solemnity of his face. "I don't know, it's just something girls say."

"I don't think so."

"Relax, baby. It's okay. Let's just do it right here in the car. Please? I'm going to miss you so much when you go away. I need all I can get."

"I don't care," Faust said, framing his long fingers into a C-shaped hold on her neck. He didn't squeeze, but held her in place and drilled into her eyes with his. "Are you saying you might find another guy while I'm gone?"

"No! Of course not!"

"Then why do you think I'd cheat on you?"

"I don't think that," she whispered.

Faust released her throat and tightened his arms around her, pinning her in his firm embrace as she straddled his lap. "I'm not looking for groupies and shit. I just want to play. That's all I care about. That, and you."

"I know, Faust. Why do you always have to take everything I say so seriously? You know I'd never think about that. I'm a good girl, remember?"

Faust's throat rolled out a soft growl. "Good girls don't wear slutty little collars. Or sneak out of their dorms to fuck their boyfriends in the backseat of a car."

"Don't you want to corrupt me? Christian girl, taken by some heathen devil-worshiper... Destroying her purity."

He curled his hips up, the thick seam of his jeans rubbing against her flimsy panties, brushing over her sheathed clit. The pressure grew with the next carve. Faust filled with blood and clamped her frame against him as his hand snuck around to the back of her skirt again. 

"Faust, please. I want it. I'll let you do anything to me."

"I know. You've waited long enough. Now I know what you can and can't handle. But not here."

Faith whimpered when he stopped feeding her strokes of his groin. She'd been wriggling against him, trying to fret hard enough that his buried erection pressed against her folds. Though his tilting stopped, the hands at her behind explored the soft mounds of flesh and the sensitive spots that lied between them.

"You're gonna give me everything. That mouth and those pretty lips. Your cunt. Mm-hmm, and this one right here too. Yeah, I'm gonna fill that asshole with all kinds of things. My fingers... my tongue? Maybe a special surprise I have waiting at home?"

Faith never felt such a violent shiver ripple across her skin. It was like the window cracked open on its own and let in the bitter night air, sweet with the seasonal decay. He pressed his index finger against the promised hole, rotating and varying pressure over the cotton.

"All right, I'm serious now. Let's get going. Climb into your seat and buckle up."

On the ride back to Faust's apartment, his arm stretched over to toy with her clit, still never breaching the protection of her underwear. He only ghosted his fingertips over them, refusing to nudge them aside to give her the full strokes she craved. Even when Faith tried to pull them down, he stopped her hand, clicking his tongue and berating her for being too eager.

"Control yourself. Just enjoy what I give you."

"Please, I want more."

"You'll get more when I decide you deserve more. Tonight, you're mine. My pussy. My tits and ass and mouth. Whatever I say goes. Understand?"

"Yes, Faust."

"Good... Now I want you to lean back and finger your pussy. Then I want you to smear that pussy juice on the windshield. Draw my roommate a little picture."

Faith scoffed, cowering against the backrest, clutching her seatbelt. "What? Are you serious?"

He swung his eyes away from the road for as long as it took for the windshield wipers to clip twice. 

"Do it." 

She obeyed, and parted her legs to insert her middle finger as far as the second knuckle, curling to find the spot inside Faust helped her discover. Faust looked back at the road as she worked herself up, nodding and smirking when she brought her glistening fingertip to the glass to create the shape of a heart. 

"Aw, isn't that sweet? Leave 'em a little message."

Faust held the hand she'd used to finger herself the entire elevator ride up. He led Faith straight into his room after dropping the keys at the door. This behaviour was normal, as Faust never had much to say to his roommate besides agreeing on times to use the car. Faith skipped along with his formidable steps to the bedroom.

Faust's bed welcomed her instantly. Giddy and nearly delirious from the excitement of not sleeping in her own bunk at school, Faith sat down and smoothed out her skirt while he went to the closet to rummage around. 

Even the gory posters and beer bottles gave her a sense of comfort. She'd miss his room, and the nights they spent entangled in each other, his massive limbs always draped over hers while they cuddled or talked or slept or fucked. It keyed into her head then that she wouldn't see his plaid bedsheets or nap under the comforter that smelled like his shampoo and deodorant for a long, long time. She tried not to think about that, but the realization overcame her by the time Faust retrieved the item for which he searched. 

He knelt on the carpet, noticing a single tear on her cheek and wiping it away. 

"Don't do this, babe. Don't cry."

Faith brushed the next droplet away herself and breathed in deeply. 

"I'm so sorry. I'll try not to. It's just hard because... I'll miss you."

"I know. It'll be tough, but when I get home, maybe I'll be able to get out of here... Get a car. Move closer to your school. I won't have to keep borrowing fuckface's shit-wagon to come see you. Things will be better after I get back."

"I just can't imagine sleeping without you for that long."

"It's part of the gig, Faith. It always will be. I'll have to do this at least once a year. Probably more if things go well."

She looked down at her toes and nodded, avoiding the large green eyes imploring her to accept reality. Faust stood up and raked his hand through her hair, pressing her face against his thigh. 

"Don't get soft on me now. We have a big night, remember? Unless you don't feel like fucking no more?" 

Faith would never pass up the opportunity to please him. It always meant if she did a good job, he'd pleasure her right back, tenfold. But tonight made a heavier promise Faith craved since the moment she passed him by in the diner; for Faust to show her the dark side of life, where her elders and superiors had always promised demons lurked, waiting to undo her and lead her away from the righteous path. 

He handled her jaw firmly, raising her to her knees on the bed. He bent at the hips and captured her lips along with the silver ring hanging from her neck. A length of chain slid through his grip as he stood up, and he wound it up in his fist, raising her another inch. The leather pressed into her skin and she surrendered instantly. 

"That's what I thought."

"What're you gonna do to me?" 

"Don't speak. You'll answer me and that's it. Now get off the bed. On your knees." 

They switched spots, Faust sitting on the edge of the bed and Faith kneeling between his legs. He pulled the leash short and worked open the button and zipper of his pants, nodding for Faith to pull them down. 

"You wanna be a bad girl?" 

Faith nodded, a warm, fluttering sensation filling her chest. 

"Yeah. You want to do all the sinful things they taught you not to do in school. Like giving your precious little pussy away. There's no way a slut like you can wait until marriage and you don't care how it looks in your God's eyes. The only one you want is to serve me, even if it means going back on the vows you made to stay pure and chaste," Faust chuckled." Well, it's way too late now. I've already soiled you and taken your virginity. But don't you think it's inherently perverse how those supposed men of God put so much importance on what's between your gorgeous legs? Almost like that's all they think about. And who can really blame them? You can do bad in school, cheat on your work, hurt others, lie, steal, disobey your parents and still earn forgiveness, but the moment you let a man's cock inside you, you’ve got no worth. Funny, isn't it? The ultimate sin is what you crave the most. All those white men policing your pussy. Your pastor... Your father... Your God."

A sliver of her past self shuddered to hear the unabated truth pouring from Faust's lips. There was always a shameful breath lingering inside her whenever they had sex, but she always suppressed it by looking into his eyes to find the love living deep in those green pools. Tonight, Faust didn't let an ounce of affection shine through, determined to bring her shame to the forefront of her mind to exploit it. 

"What? Am I wrong? That's what they taught you, isn't it? That your urges make you sinful. That your natural human instincts put you off the path to heaven. Even though, mm, when I stuff all your little holes, you swear you're already there. Why does it feel so good to fuck me when it's so wrong?"

The residual polyps of her religious upbringing quivered and stung, echoing past lessons drilled into her from birth. Faith was always aware of existence on the other side of the fence where the criminals and harlots and sinners lived, and as a child, thought herself too good to wander into those dim pastures. As she matured, new world realities filtered through the pinpricks her parents overlooked—other children whispering of PG-13 movies, sex-charged billboards and unsupervised access to the internet—leaving behind the silt of the depraved for her to examine with hungry eyes. Nothing excited her more than the thought of finding a used porn magazine at the park, or staying up later than the rest of her girlfriends to catch flashes of soft-core skin on cable television. Now she was neck-deep in the sin they'd worked so hard to keep her from, ready to dive in with but a nostalgic glance back at her old, virtuous life.

It still bothered her whenever Faust referred to God, as they fashioned Him before her as divinity, unchallengeable. The unabashed way Faust spit upon His image made her cringe, yet his gall carved out a spot in her head above her pastor, above her father. Faust was the only man to defy her doctrine, and that made him more courageous than anyone she'd ever known. Even her daddy cowered in fear of God's wrath. Faust... he pissed on the cross and the bible, made a mockery of the gospel and showed her how delicious the grapes of temptation tasted on her contaminated tongue.

Faust pushed the elastic band of his boxers down so it bunched under his balls, helping his shaft stand upright. If left without support, he'd loll to the side, the girth too much for his blood to circumvent.

"Open your pretty mouth and suck this fat fucking cock, right now."

Faith displayed her tongue, waiting for him to trace a line from tip to tonsils. The warm pre-cum coated her tastebuds, and she wrapped her lips around the head, swallowing the fluid and moaning.

"Oh, Christ, baby, that looks so good. How does it taste?"

Faith hummed in agreement, unable to form a word with the mass wedging her jaws apart. He bucked his hips up once, hitting the back of her throat, then settled on the bed and let her go to work while he used the chain leash to angle her head. Bubbles formed around the ridge, dripping down in all directions to lubricate the way. Soon, Faust shivered from the warm froth gliding downward and pulled her off by the chain, anchoring his shaft against his belly.

"Suck that spit off my balls," he barked.

Faith did as she was told, keeping her eyes on his slackened face as she trailed her tongue up and down, collecting the saliva and swallowing.

"Good. That's good. Now, get up on the bed. On your hands and knees," he yanked the chain.

Propelled by the force around her neck, Faith crawled onto the bed and awaited his next move. She didn't notice the shiny object in his hand until he placed it on the bed next to her. A shiny metal plug with a jewelled end awaited, puckering the bedspread under its weight.

Before Faith mustered the courage to ask, Faust pulled her panties down to her knees and lapped her entrance with the same sloppy ardency she'd shown him but a minute before. He nipped her folds and continued upward, two hands now spreading her cheeks apart to reveal the next destination of his travelling tongue.

"Did you get all nice and clean for me?" He snickered.

"Mm-hmm," Faith said with a nod.

"Yeah, 'cause you knew I was gonna play with that ass."

Faust teased her with circles of varying pressure, switching his middle finger out for his tongue the first time he dipped inside. She wiggled and let curious noises escape her before clamping her hand over her mouth.

"How does that feel?"

"It feels... good," Faith replied.

"Yeah? You like it? Like it when I sodomize you?"

She whimpered. Faust took her mewling as a sign to continue. Slowly, he inserted his fingertip, reading her body and how it contorted from the new intrusion. When he was certain she wouldn't refuse, he worked the digit in and out, anointing the site with a fresh wad of spit.

"What do you think about the toy I bought for you?"

Faith craned her head to regard the little silver toy. "I like it."

"Really? You're not just saying that are you? It's not just something girls say, is it?"

"No, I want it. I'll do it if you like that."

"Anyone ever tell you how sweet you are? You’re always thinking of others. Perfect little cock-slave. It's really too bad your holes are so tiny. I'd really love to fuck your ass, but we wouldn't want anyone getting injured tonight," Faust said.

Faith simpered and wiggled her hips. There was a brief loss of contact as Faust went for a bottle of lube he always had stashed under the bed for nights Faith needed it. He coated the toy and rubbed the rest around and inside her tightness. With his fingertip eclipsing her hole, he dipped in one last time before replacing the digit with the tapered end of the plug.

Faith couldn't tell what it looked like when her body accepted the weighty piece of decoration, but when Faust had it in place, he breathed heavily.

"Fuck, Faith... That's adorable. How's that feel?"

She tilted her hips from side to side, grimacing from the flare pressing into her cheeks. "It's... Different."

"Spread your legs a bit more. Yeah, that's good. Open up and show me that pussy and your cute plug."

Faust overestimated his reserve of patience. Once affixed with the pink jewel, he lost sight of everything else except filling her other holes too. But he had to control himself if he wanted to achieve what he set out to achieve, and that required endurance. He had to tease her with a little more tongue-fucking before slipping his cock in from behind. She gasped and clenched hard, flinching away. The added fullness only intensified the stretch from his width and the imposing length. Faust seethed a moment before teasing her pussy with the tip.

"All right, work it however you like, babe. Get comfortable. It's a lot."

Left to her own efforts, she sat back on him and let the stretch course through her. Faust watched most of his length disappear, mouth dropped in awe. She continued jamming him back inside after every withdrawal, hoping to impress with her resilience. 

"You're doing good, baby. Keep going. Fuck, that feels amazing."

When Faust grew bored with the position, he flipped her on her back so he could watch her wince in mixed pain and pleasure. Her struggle urged him on, her panting, encouragement. Over the months, Faith got used to the breadth of him inside and didn't tremble as much or wilt from trying to keep up. It was time to move onto the next part of his plan, which was to introduce yet another form of stimulation. 

Faust had her sit on him, his chest to her back, fully enveloped in her wetness with the plug angling just right. Once she perched in his lap comfortably, he reached around to rub her clit with one hand while the other anchored her collared neck back so her head rested on his shoulder. 

"You're gonna come all over me, understand? I won't stop until I feel your pussy spasming around my dick." 

Faith squealed from the frantic fingers dancing over her clit, the shaft pumping her in a violent clashing of rhythms. Even his brutal whispers in her ear fell into time, playing her like an instrument with expertise. By her arching back and sharp breaths, Faust knew he was close to his goal. He just had to restrain himself from succumbing to the tightening pressure around him, the feast that was her body contorting on top of his. 

"Are you gonna come? Gonna fucking squirt for me?" 

Faith nuzzled into his neck and whimpered, "I... Can't. I don't know how." 

"Yes, you do. Feel that spot right there? Remember? Remember what I told you."

"Faust," she gasped. 

"You're right there. I can feel it. Right there, Faith."

He coiled his thick arm around her chest, pressing her as he shot his groin up and up. Each thrust landed harder while his fingers coddled her most sensitive spot. 

Amid the barrage of sensations, a peculiar warmth bourgeoned in her groin. For a second she thought her bladder was about to release, but it was too gradual... Too intentional to be a regular function. The undulating pulse sent red hot waves of pleasure through her body, shooting to her fingertips and crackling in her ears like a sudden ascent up a steep mountain. She closed her eyes and let out one continuous groan that spiralled upward, squealing from between her teeth as the volcanic frequencies shut down all other modes of operation. 

Faith didn't notice the first spurt. Only when Faust laughed did she unscrew her eyes to see between her legs. Faust lifted her quickly, sidling them both to the edge of the bed where the mirror reflected the clear fluid dripping down his cock and spreading between their thighs. He'd fucked her hard enough to collect fizz along the underside of his length. She gasped when a contraction forced another small emission from a place inside her she never knew existed. 

"Oh, my goodness... Am I?" 

"Squirting? Damn fucking right, babe. I knew I could get ya to gush all over my dick."

The fervent racks of orgasm subsided after a while, and she giggled. Faust laid back on the bed, feet planted on the floor as he slipped out of her and let her roll to the side. Faith huddled up under his arm and placed her little hand on his heaving chest, his heartbeat kicking up the limb. 

"You didn't come," Faith said.

Faust grabbed her hand and tightened his arm around her shoulders. "Yeah. That's 'cause I'm not done with you."

~*~

On the day of Faust's departure, he drove Faith to her campus and got out of the car to give her a hug. She produced a rickety smile as she buried her face in his hair and the first sniffle racked her throat. She imagined they looked novel to most; Faust spreading his feet and crouching to use his entire body, clam-shelling her in leather-bound arms and ripped black jeans, and Faith in a school kilt and his largest and softest hoodie. 

Faust kissed her once softly, then again slowly. She savoured his breath and sent her tongue after his. They parted, joined once more and parted again for their first attempt at goodbye.

Faith shivered from the effort of holding back her tears. She knew crying would only make it harder to part ways. If she could hold on, then she could cry in her plain, two-sided cubicle in a building of people that weren't Faust. She already felt sorry for her roommate who would suffer her grovelling.

To her surprise, she reared in the heat behind her eyes, remembering the times in the Summer when Faust would talk about touring. The glint in his eye and the smile he let slip only in her presence was Faust at his purest. How could she let her emotions taint his goals? Faith smiled, driven by her unexpected surge of self-control. 

It was Faust who bit his lip and blinked rapidly, trying to smother a tear before it oozed out. Faith gasped at the glimmer he smeared with the leather cuff of his jacket. Then, she broke.

Faust wrapped her up in his arms again and squeezed her tight, Faith jostling with sobs.

"I love you. I love you so much," she cried into his chest.

"Yeah, babe. I love you too. I fucking wish you could just come with me. I don't trust this town either. You better not ever walk alone at night anywhere. Even if it's from your dorm to the parking lot. You always walk with someone."

"I will."

"I'm serious, Faith. And don't fucking hang out with Anika and that crowd."

"Why not? I mean, I won't, but... Why?"

Faust pressed his lips together, squeezing his fist. She cocked her head, and he released his frustration in one deep breath. "All those guys will rip you apart. Because of your... Upbringing. Christians just... Fuck. I can't put this nicely."

"Do you really think I still care about my religion? It was something I just did as a kid. I don't really... I don't know. I know what you guys sing about and I don't care."

"It doesn't matter. To some of them, Christians are the enemy and they'll do terrible shit you'd never think of. Please, just fucking promise me you'll make some other friends. Some smart girls. Have like a girl's club thing in your dorm."

"Girl's club?" Faith taunted.

"You know what I mean."

"No smart boy friends?"

Faust went deadpan, then stooped to grab her ass and pull her closer. "Don't make a murderer out of me. If I hear of any guy—"

"Or girl!"

"Or girl... If anyone tries anything with you..."

"You'll go to prison for me. I know. I'll do everything to make sure you don't end up in prison."

"And you better not worry about me and what I'm up to. My life will be nothing but sleeping on the way to shows, sound check, pre-set, set, post-set shower, then beer in the bus."

"I trust you. But will you say goodnight, every night?"

"I'll try."

She hopped up to kiss him again. "Thanks, beetle."

"One more thing before I go," Faust said, stepping toward the car. He circled to the driver's side and ducked in to grab something he'd tucked under the seat while Faith wasn't around. She already had her mouth covered by the time he returned to the sidewalk. "That collar you supposedly had lying around... You gotta get rid of it."

Faith touched her throat as though the leather strap was still there. "How come?"

"Because I got you a better one," he said, handing her the parcel. The box had a weight Faith didn't expect.

She unravelled the black plastic, a lacquered wooden box beneath the makeshift wrapping paper. The collar inside was thin, with a metal buckle and a thick D-ring hosting a thicker chrome loop.

"Faust!"

"My friend made it. It's not some Hot Topic shit. This collar means you belong with me."

"Is this like your version of a promise ring?"

Faust scoffed. "It's not a ring. It's a collar. Hand-forged metal. Leather cut with skill. Not some tiny, overpriced rock. But if you want me to make you a promise, I will."

"Promise me what?"

"That I belong to you, too."

Faith melted, rolling her eyes and leaning into him. "Ugh, oh my gosh, if you keep being so cute I'm not gonna let you leave! First you cried and now you're giving me something you asked your friend to make for me? That's sooo cute!"

"Shut up. Come on, this is serious."

"I know! Which is why it's so cute, because you're a big, tough, serious man, aren't you?"

Faust's indifference broke, and he chuckled with her as she poked him and hung off his arm. He helped her put on the collar, then slipped the box into her backpack.

They settled back into a melancholic silence, neither one of them wanting to start the next round of goodbyes. Faust eventually stepped into the tight hug, proceeded more kissing and a few deep breaths to wane the sorrow.

"I hope you have fun, Faust. You don't have to worry about me. I promise I'll be safe."

"Say goodnight, every night."

"I will."

"All right... Well, I should go."

"Please do, so I can go to my room and cry some more."

Faust pressed his thumb into the corner of his eye. "Fuck, I know."

"I love you, beetle."

"Love you too, babe. I'll talk to you soon as I'm on the road."

Faust let her go and drove away. An immovable lump formed in his throat as he drowned out his inner-mourning with a cacophony of feral guitars, erratic drumbeats and screeching.

[dadbodsarehot]

bliss;

rating: lets say like teen idk. references to sex and drugs ( like actual ones that exist. i dont count bliss thats fake. but if people on bliss bothers you dont read this either ) but nothing super explicit 

pairing: summerseed ( john x tobias ) 

words: 1442 

summary: this was supposed 2 be the baptism fic and then it literally just was not i have no idea what happened. its still gay though. tons of yearning in this one if youre into that. if youre not what are you doing on my blog. this fic was supposed to be funny and that also didnt happen so much?? idk man but im vibing w it 

----------x----------

John finds Tobias right where he left him.

His eyes are dark, tiny rings of brilliant gold around pupils dilated to the size of dinner plates, his wet hair sticking to his face in platinum yellow disarray. The Bliss had sunk it's hooks into him- unsurprisingly, with how long John had left him in the water. Shame seeps into him, but it's not long before embarrassment takes it's place. Tobias is staring at him, now, enraptured- like a blind man seeing for the first time.  

It makes an uneven heat rise to his cheeks. Surely it's all in his head. A symptom of his desire, the same grasping desire that had led him to kiss him when this had all started, before he had run away like a coward. All at once he remembered the soft feeling of him, wet and warm and pressed against his body, the give of his mouth and the taste of water and purity on his tongue, the gentle touch of his fingertips running barely-there through his hair. It had felt like coming home. Like waking up. What had it felt like for Tobias? He didn't dare hope that-

"You look like an angel."

The words break John's concentration on his inner monologue and bring a fresh round of heat to his face, quiet on the night air in the painful way that only Tobias could be quiet. Like his voice itself was an apology for it's existence. And yet, there is no apology for these words. No second guessing, no shyness, no anxiety- only a drug-fueled certainty so potent that it almost tempts him to believe he means it.

There's nothing he wouldn't give for him to mean it. To be the angel that he deserves, instead of the flawed and broken man that he is.

He clears his throat, looking away with the vague hope that if he doesn't see Tobias staring at him, the tension- real or imagined- between them would dissipate. It's no use, though; he can still feel those slivers of captured sunlight burning into him like holy fire.

"Have you seen many angels, Tobias?" The question isn't as confident as he wants it to be. What is he afraid of? That the answer will be yes?

Tobias shakes his head, slowly from side to side, his eyes still riveted on John.

"I didn't think they existed. Not really. But now I do. Now I'm sure that they do. Because I'm-" He blinks in a long, slow motion, swaying on his feet with a shiver as the wind blows through the valley. The desire inside John- to covet, to cherish, to hold, flares up hotter than the gaze leaving vulnerable, aching holes in him. Tobias opens his mouth to resume his sentence, but stops, brows furrowing. "Because I'm..."

"Because you're what?" He's riveted on the candy coated, drug-induced words, on him, on the possibilities. Too riveted. Too involved. Too hopeful. He hates what he hopes for, because he can never have it. And he wants it more than he's ever wanted anything- more than he used to want his next hit, more than he wanted salvation, more than he wants to keep breathing.  

"I.....forgot what I was gonna say." The laugh that follows should be nervous, would usually be nervous, but is instead delighted. "Oops."

John laughs with him, if only for a moment. What else can he do but laugh? It sure beats giving into despair, into the feeling wrenching itself through his gut like a knife. What did he want him to say? No matter what he had said, it wouldn't change anything. The towel that he brought him hangs forgotten in his hand until he wraps it around the small mans shoulders, who pulls it around himself appreciatively and rubs the corner slowly against his cheek. "You must be cold. I'm......sorry."

Another shake of his head- blessedly, his eyes slip closed while he takes a deep inhale of the worn fabric.

"No. I feel... I'm so warm. It just smells like you. I like it. I like it a lot. You're all over me, like this."

John curses the way his heart skips a beat, and curses even more the next words that slip out of his mouth. "Come home with me."

And now those eyes are looking at him again, sparkling in the moonlight like he had plucked the stars from the sky itself- if it was possible, he would think his pupils had dilated further. Tobias tilts his head to the side, and strands of slowly drying, tangled blonde tilt with it. "Home? With you?"

He realizes what that invitation sounds like, at least to himself, and backtracks. "It's late, and you need to sleep this off. Change into some dry clothes."

Tobias looks down at his shirt, like he hadn't realized it was soaked and clinging to him indecently before John had pointed it out. He's lucky; John wishes he could stop noticing it, could stop thinking about leaning over and kissing him again or about stripping it off of him to see his expanse of pale skin glow damp and unhindered in the moonlight. "Okay....but only if I can keep the towel, too."

Again, John laughs.

----x----

The ride home was quiet, filled with staring and starlit skies and nothing but the chirp of crickets and the hymns on the radio to keep them company. Luckily, it was easy enough to convince him to give up his wet towel when John bribed him with one of his shirts. Tobias lays in his own bed, now, a button up trailing halfway down his thighs, pupils still wide even under the fluorescent lights. In another lifetime, they would both be under the influence. In another lifetime, he would pin him there, would leave marks on him, would corrupt this innocent thing with his own desire to fill his holes. In another lifetime, Tobias would be his.

But this is the only life he has, now- and it's one he should be grateful for. One he is grateful for.  

John covers him up delicately and turns to leave. And he would have left, too, were there not suddenly a hand tugging at his shirt, keeping him in place.

"Stay with me this time?"

John knows he should say no. He wants to say yes. It'd be selfish to say no; it'd be selfish to say yes. Was staying a gift for Tobias, or himself? No doubt he would regret falling asleep next to him when the morning came and the haze of Bliss fell like scales from his sunlit eyes. Would it be wrong, to enjoy being close to him in the time before that? He tried to think of what Joseph would do, if put in a similar situation, and all at once was sure he would say no. That he would pull out of the weak grasp on him, twist free from the bindings this man had slyly attached to his traitor heart, and spend the night on the couch regretting it.

It was the right thing to do.

But he is not Joseph, and he realizes in the next instant when he is already flipping off the light and sliding under the covers next to Tobias that he is not someone who does the right thing, either.

The younger man's body once more presses in against his own- if he's aware of the too-fast rhythm of his heart when he lays his head against his chest, he doesn't say anything. John can almost feel him smile when he wraps his arms around him like second nature- another product of his overactive imagination, he's sure.

"I remembered what I was going to say. Earlier. About the angels." It's muffled by his own chest, and growing smaller by the minute as sleep and relaxation easily take him.

"Maybe you should tell me in the morning." His heart squeezes painfully. Tobias' arm wraps around his waist, his fingers caressing his back in what felt to him like agonizing decadence. In the morning, he would pull away from him, as he should; Tobias, he can tell, is someone who does do the right thing. He would not think about the morning right now.

"I believe in angels...." He yawns, precious and small, and nuzzles his still damp hair against John's chest, mumbling the end of his sentence. It's almost incomprehensible, taken by sleep and drugs. But John chooses, for better or for worse, to believe what he only thought he had heard.

Just for tonight, he will say yes to this, too.  

"Because I'm in love with one."

[icyharrington]

Sinful Thoughts (Michael Langdon X Reader) Part 1

ok now that i read this over i lowkey hate the way it turned out, but i spent a lot of time on it so im gonna post it anyways lmfao. y’all wanted sexual tension, so sexual tension you shall receive! 

plot: you’re the epitome of a good christian girl. michael langdon intends to ruin that.

warnings: high school au, fem!Reader, masturbation, sexual tension, no actual smut

word count: 2.7k

i.

“Alright, last pairing. (Y/n), your lab partner will be Michael Langdon.”

You were sure the color drained from your face, because a collective snicker spread itself throughout the classroom the minute you registered your teacher’s words. You’d always hated group projects. Even worse to you were involuntary pairings. Especially when it meant that you were now obligated to do your school project with the weirdly flirtacious kid who lived across the street from you.

You froze, looking across the classroom to the boy who’d been named. He smiled at you innocently, hands crossed neatly in front of him. Your stomach lurched.

“Uh, Ms. Calvin? Would it be okay if I, um, worked by myself instead? I don’t mind taking on the extra work.” You swallowed nervously. More laughter from your classmates, which you did not acknowledge.

Your teacher frowned, emphasizing the deep-set lines in her face. “If I let you work alone, I’d have to let everyone work alone. This project is meant to be completed with a partner.”

You sighed, trying not to seem too distressed as you fidgeted with the sleeves of your pale pink sweater. “Then could I possibly get a new partner?”

“Ms. (Y/l/n), sometimes we are dealt things in life that are not ideal to us. Michael is a perfectly capable young man, and you will work with him.”

“But-“

“Unless you have a valid reason not to work with Mr. Langdon, he will remain as your lab partner.”

You ran your tongue over your bottom lip. What was the reason you were so opposed to working with him? He hadn’t done anything to you, not really. You’d known him since he’d first moved into the neighborhood two years back- from the second you’d saw him, clad in all black with a confident stride, he made you nervous.

Of course, there was also the fact that he seemed to love making you uncomfortable. He’d make some sort of flirtatious comment nearly every time your paths crossed, and it made your insides churn. But still- it was possible he wasn’t even aware that he was being flirtatious, though you doubted that from the way his eyes would glint each time he’d make you blush.

The bell rang, jarring you, and you tucked your books away into your sensible messenger bag. Then you tugged gently on the dainty cross which hung around your neck on a thin gold chain. You always fiddled with it when you were feeling anxious; it brought you comfort to feel the smooth symbol under your fingers.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when somebody leaned on your desk, placing both hands palm-down with a startling thud. You didn’t even have to look up to see who it was: you saw a leather jacket and black button-up, along with large hands adorned with several rings.

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” came a smooth, slightly mocking voice. “What’s so bad about being my partner?”

You looked up timidly, flinching slightly under the boy’s piercing blue gaze. “Nothing. I just- um.” Your voice trailed off, and you realized it probably hadn’t been the wisest choice to request a new partner in front of the entire class.

“You just what?” He tilted his head to the side, widening his eyes. “You has no problem voicing your thoughts a minute ago.”

Since looking into his eyes was making you impossibly nervous, you tried instead to focus on his hair, which even you had to admit was lovely. “I just think we’d both work better with other partners.”

He shook his head, allowing his blond waves to fall in front of his eyes. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you, (y/n),” he said softly. “Perhaps you’d like me better if I weren’t so nice?”

You scoffed, and he cocked an eyebrow at you, seemingly pleased with your defiance as a grin began forming across his full lips.

“You’ve never been nice. You just love to make me uncomfortable.”

“If anything I’ve said has made you uncomfortable, then that’s on you.” He stood up straight, drumming his fingers on the black belt around his slim waist. “Why would you think I care enough to try and make you squirm?”

You pushed back in your chair and jumped to your feet, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Just- don’t talk to me unless it’s about the project.”

“So we’ll meet on Friday, then?” he grinned at you, baring his perfectly straight teeth.

“I am not going to your house,” you snapped. “You can come to mine.”

“Fine with me. I’d love to see the way a girl like you lives.”

“I’m not even going to ask you what that’s supposed to mean,” you muttered, walking around your desk so you wouldn’t have to cross paths with Michael on your way out.

“Oh, (y/n)?” he said, just as you were about to leave. Back still to him, you grimaced.

“What?”

“That’s a nice necklace you’ve got on.”

Your hand flew up to your neck, caressing the cool metal frantically. In your head, a prayer repeated itself over and over; you shut your eyes, hoping it’d calm you down, but for the first time in your life, it didn’t.

ii.

The week went by impossibly fast, and before you knew it, it was Friday. You’d almost forgotten the plans you’d made with Michael�� almost— but Michael had made sure to cheerily remind you that morning as you left your house to leave for school.

Now it was 3:59. He was supposed to come over at 4. Your palms sweat profusely as you waited in the living room, and you wiped them on your modest knee-length skirt.

You hoped maybe, by some miracle, he’d forget. But you knew that would never happen. He was looking forward to this, looking forward to getting under your skin.

The clock on your phone switched briskly to 4:00, and you winced. There was a beat, and then came three sturdy knocks on your front door. Of course he’d show up at 4 on the dot. What else had you expected?

You stood up and fixed your hair, hoping he wouldn’t be able to sense the intense anxiety coursing through you. Then you made your way to the door and swung it open, letting out shallow breaths in an attempt to compose yourself.

He stood there on your welcome mat, backpack slung over his shoulder and smirk on his lips. He made no attempt to conceal the way his eyes traveled over your body, and you shifted, uneasy. “Michael. Come in.”

“You seem enthused,” he said, brushing past you and into your home without a second thought.

You turned around, watching him enter your living room, his head turning to observe every last detail. His lips curved upwards slightly as he regarded the various religious symbols mounted on the wall- an old-fashioned crucifix, a simple wooden cross, a framed painting of Jesus that your mom had bought at a yard sale. Then his eyes fell upon the leather-bound bible on the coffee table, and he chuckled.

“What?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Nothing,” he sang, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket and flashing you a close-mouthed smile. You returned it with a straight face, entirely unamused.

“Wait here while I get my stuff,” you said, turning on your heel and heading for the stairs. “And don’t follow me.”

You made your way up the carpeted steps, tensing as you could practically feel his eyes bore into you from behind. All at once you felt self-conscious, and you wished you’d changed into a pair of sweatpants instead of staying in your skirt.

When you got up to your room you let out a breath, immediately relieved once you were out of his admittedly intimidating presence. You walked over to your desk, impeccably tidy save for your biology binder set in the middle.

“Hm. Looks exactly like I expected,” came a drawling voice in the doorway, and you jumped.

“I thought I told you not to follow me,” you said through grit teeth, jaw clenching as you tucked your binder under your arm. That was strange, you thought, the way he’d snuck up on you without you hearing his footsteps on the stairs. He ignored you and tilted his head quizzically, running his fingers along the rosary hanging off your doorknob.

“Don’t touch that,” you said, and he let it drop, beads bouncing noisily against the wooden door.

“So you really believe all this Jesus shit, huh?” he said, amused, taking a few steps inside.

“Get out of my room,” you said in as firm a tone you could muster, but you were surprised when your voice trembled.

He looked at the wooden cross hanging above your bed, and then down at the blue blanket and matching pillows, positioned evenly and smoothed out. You felt vulnerable, somehow, knowing that he now had an image in his mind of where you slept.

“Everything in here is so impossibly perfect,” he stated, running his fingers idly along the frame of your bed. “You want to be perfect, don’t you? You want to be mommy and daddy’s perfect little Christian girl.”

You stared at him, feet planted to the ground as you tried to come up with something to say. He sounded so sure of himself, like he’d been inside your mind and was simply reciting the facts. You wanted to punch him right between those hooded blue eyes, but something inside you prevented you from moving.

“I assume you’re saving yourself for marriage?” he continued, coming closer to you with a smug expression on his handsome face. You willed your feet to move, and your eyes widened when you realized you literally were unable to. Panic rose in your throat, contrasting harshly with his cool exterior.

“None of your business,” you spat, curling your fingers into your palm to try and conceal the silver purity ring you’d been given at church camp several years ago. He laughed, stopping in front of you.

“You’ve never even kissed a boy, have you?”

He craned neck slightly, just looking at you. Then he reached up and tucked two fingers beneath your chin, tilting it up so you could look at him. “And I’m certain you’ve never touched yourself.”

Your face burnt up at his words, and you knew he was enjoying watching the redness creep across your face. He was mere inches away from you now, smiling serenely as you tried your hardest to pull back.

“I’ll even bet that every time you feel that ache between your legs, you drop to your fucking knees and beg god for forgiveness,” he whispered, breath hot on your face.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, focusing all your energy on trying to move. What was keeping a hold on you? It couldn’t possibly be Michael- how would he be able to do something like that?

“Because good Christian girls aren’t allowed to feel carnal pleasure,” he said, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Are they?”

His hand moved from your face to your neck, his pace painfully slow. Your breath hitched when his fingers reached the thin chain around your neck, toying with it for a moment before continuing downwards. He took the cross in his hand and surveyed it, running his thumb across it as he leveled it in his palm.

Before you could do anything, he let go, and all at once the hold on you seemed to break. You pushed him back, hard, silently thanking god for freeing you.

“Leave. And don’t come back. I’ll do the whole project myself. You can take credit for half, I don’t even care.”

He let out a low chuckle. “I’ll let you get back to your prayers.”

You eyed him as he turned around and left, following him to the top of the stairs and watching as he left through the front door. You waited a minute before returning to your room, fixated on the door as if Michael might change his mind and burst through it. Your heart hammered against your ribcage as a familiar, unwelcome sensation began radiating from between your thighs, which you intended to ignore as usual.

You were so distracted by the thoughts of what on earth had just happened that you almost didn’t notice the small change that had been made in your room.

The cross above your bed- which you could’ve sworn had been upright when you followed Michael out- was now, plain as day, upside down.

iii.

You blinked twice, mind foggy as you took a step forward, toes curling at the feeling of cold wood against your bare soles.

You looked down; you were naked, skin dotted over with clusters of goosebumps as your hair stood on end. Your nipples hardened at the low temperature, and all at once you realized you could see your breath in front of you.

You heard something stir from afar, and finally you averted your attention to the opposite end of the room. You were in a church, it appeared, the pews of which were empty. The noise you’d heard had come from behind the altar, and it quickly became apparent that somebody was standing behind it.

Your mouth went dry. It was Michael. His face was heavily shadowed, but from his stature alone you knew it was him. He, too, was naked, at least as far as you could see from the portion of his body that was visible.

A chill rolled up your spine and you wrapped your arms around your stomach, shivering as the cold set into your bones. Michael raised one hand, and though his eyes were obscured with shadows, you knew they were settled on you, your body.

From his fingertips, a flame ignited. He rolled his wrist back, cupping his hand around the flame as it grew. Then he flicked his hand forward, and you stumbled backwards as each pew went up in flames, the rich scent of burning wood invading your lungs. Your skin prickled at the feeling of unbridled warmth enveloping you, and from your throat spilled a grateful moan.

“Touch me, and never again will you freeze,” came a booming voice, loud enough to bring you to your knees. You realized that Michael was now much closer to you than he had been before, standing bare as he looked down upon you. You reached for him without shame, lips parting, and before you could feel him, everything went black.

“Michael-“ you croaked.

Your eyes shot open; you were in your bed, legs entangled in a mess of sweat-stained sheets. It took several seconds to collect yourself, and once you finally had, you discovered that your hand was slipped underneath your underwear and buried between your thighs.

“Oh my-“ you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence, removing your hand as if it’d been burnt. Running your hand over the fabric of your underwear, you were alarmed to find that it was completely soaked through.

Face flushing with guilt, you groaned at the pounding coming from your core. It almost scared you how badly you wanted to touch, how badly you wanted to slip your fingers up inside yourself and ride them until you couldn’t hold back the screams.

There was something seriously wrong with you. Usually you were able to ignore the feelings, but with each passing second the throbbing intensified, causing you to squirm restlessly. Images of Michael flashed through your mind, the filthy words he’d spoken to you earlier vibrating in your ears, and you bit your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Your hips bucked up towards nothing involuntarily; your chest rose and fell hard, one hand settled on your breast through your sleep shirt.

It’s not right, you thought, applying slight pressure to your nipple before drawing your hand back. You squeezed your eyes shut, moving your lips silently as you methodically recited prayer after prayer in your mind, hoping to find the strength to ignore the feeling and go back to sleep.

It felt like an eternity had passed before you fell back to sleep, and when you woke up the next morning, you couldn’t help but feel disgusted with yourself, sneering at your reflection in the mirror for being so goddamned weak.

You didn’t know what kind of spell Michael had cast over you, making you think such vulgar thoughts, but you were sure of one thing: Michael Langdon was nothing but trouble.

[oreo-hong]

jaemin had his back to the door, donghyuck’s fingers gently running through his hair as he curls up. “what?” he calls back softly. he wasn’t mad, he was just worried and jeno kept going places and doing things without telling him and after finding him once in a horrible state, he was worried that it would happen again. i press a small, lingering kiss where the ring used to be, pulling back to look up at him. “just know, pretty boy, that it’s not always a bad thing. you can not wear a purity ring and still be a good person,” i whisper, wanting to reassure him that he wasn’t dirty or bad just because he no longer wore it. 🩰

jeno gulps softly, “i- im sorry jaem..” he whispers, jeno never apologized, especially when he was in the wrong. renjun smiles, “thank you..” he presses a peck to your cheek sweetly

[bintrbl-blog]

YNWA: conflict (pt 2)

Genre:: Angst Pairing:: Taehyung x Reader THIS PART warnings: Cursing, content that may be considered offensive hey guys ;u; first i would like to say thanks so so much for 50+ notes on my first part <333 I hope you enjoy this part as well as parts to come sorry this one is a bit short hh ;^; i promise the next part will be longer (and a bit more fluffy hnfiewnfjnfnrff ) okok time for the juicy shtuff -Adminnie

Previously your heart stopped as a few figures came towards your group. The man in the middle of them stood with immense swagger, wearing a black crew neck, navy blue ripped jeans, and some sneakers... You knew exactly who he was by his slicked back blond hair which was under a backwards cap..

"Y/N, Hooligans, Fancy meeting you here~"

You gazed into the man's dark hues, your's swirling with fury as your fists clenched at your side. You grit your teeth, Taehyung grabbing one of your tense arms to pull you to his side, slinging his arm around you- "what do you want Jackson" Hoseok spoke from the bed of the truck, his feet hitting the ground as he jumped out with a loud slapping noise. He cocked his head the side as he stood beside Tae, the whole group seeming uncomfortable under Jackson's intense glare. "You boys going in the school?"

"why do you want to know?"  You finally spoke up, feeling a bold tingle in your feet as you stepped forward, nearly chest to chest with the taller and older boy. You and Jackson had a history, a long history... You started hanging around Jackson and his friends back in highschool, you, a gullible little freshman had the hots for Jackson, a scenior. He had friends in all grades, Yugyeom and a boy that went by BamBam from your class, while Youngjae, Jaebum, and Jinyoung were Juniors and Seniors.. You got into their 'group' through Mark, he had graduated a few years prior, he was close with your sister, but when she moved away from you and this dumb old town.. he took you in really- Getting involved with any of them was the worst mistake of your life, they hated your current friends.. Jackson especially having it out for Taehyung- He would always pick petty fights with him by saying things like- 'You dont really like him Y/N? I mean after all, we are a thing right' He would dangle you right infront of Tae, like he was saying 'look how shes just putty in my hands' But the truth was the only thing you were to Jackson was a quick vile of attention when he was feeling needy- Guys like Jackson held girl's purity like it was a prize, and he rubbed it in your face that you gave it up to him, you couldnt believe you fell for such a scumbag... Though through it all, no matter how much it truly hurt Tae, he stood by you- everytime Jackson would knock you down Tae would build you back up till you were finally stronger than him...

But you werent stronger completely, his gaze still made your knees weak, even now, here infront of him, your legs felt like jello..

"feisty feisty" He said in low tone, using his index finger to push your shoulder back, you shivered in response... "It was an innocent question Pumpkin, dont take it to heart" He stuck out his lip to make a mocking pout, a chuckle sparking in his chest as he looked to all fo them, turning slightly to find the eyes of his 'boys' Jaebum, and Yugyeom... "Looks like we are all going in" 

He had a smug smirk, you were about to wipe it off his face when a cold hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you to their side- "dont y/n" Jin... He was always so motherly to you and the rest of the group, he let go of your hand only to wrap his arm around moments later, rubbing your shoulder- "Fine" Jin said pushing you slightly to walk to the building

Namjoon "What the fuck Hyung" Jennie "Yeah i-i dont know them" JiSoo "Jennie shut up just have some fun for once" Jungkook "Yeah come on..."

Jin only shook his head, he wasnt going to let Jackson push you around again, so you werent about to leave and let him win. The beat up school had only one entrance other than just walking straight in, you walked around the right of the building, the wall lined with windows to class rooms, one shattered, the frame only left. You approached the lip when you could enter, swiping away some broke glass with your bare hands before hoisting yourself inside. You sneakers crunched against the glass on the floor, with the eerie classroom was filled with graffiti, some you and your friends had done, some strangers had.. In the front of the class room was a beat up old whiteboard with the words "Lets Jump" sprayed in red across it... You slowly approached, placing your hand on the board, swiping away the dust with your index finger to more closely inspect the spray paint..

CRUNCH

A series of crunches followed that one loud one, Jackson's form appearing, then Tae's and the rest of the group. You Huffed turning to where the old wooden class door was, shuffling to it and pushing it open causing a creak to echo into the long narrow hall. You walked in the front of the group, Tae beside you, and Jackson beside him. You didnt speak to any of them, just walking, starring at the chipped paint walls and fallen ceiling panels. You Sighed turning towards on of the doors, pushing it open- It was an old book closet, faded textbook lined the shelves persuading you to walk in, the two boys followed you, all seemed well, you looking at the books murmuring to Tae about how you found the one with his name in it- A loud squeal of rusty hinges rang out- The door suddenly shut, catching all of you buy surprise.. Jackson moved from the shelves to grab the hooked metal handle. Twisting it, it didnt budge, he tried pulling on the door, then pushing but it only slightly rattled. Taehyung instinctively grabbed your hand, you both looking at Jackson wide eyed, "Am i really locked in here with you" You sighed bringing your free hand to the bridge of your nose, you pulled Tae closer to the door- "Joon?" "Hey Joonie???"

"Y/N are you in there? Hold on let me open the door" Stifled rattling sounded out into the room, "Its stuck joonie you have to get a key or, i dont know take off the door handle???" Taehyung was holding his breath at this point, and it wasnt till he began to teeter on his feet that you remembered how claustrophobic he was, making this a lot more stressful of a situation- "Hurry Joonie, Tae is freaking out and i dont want to be stuck in here with Jackson ok" You could feel Jackson's eyes roll as he shifted back towards the shelves, the room was a long and some what wide rectangular shape, shelves raised about 2 feet off the ground held the text books, the top teer of the shelves slouching in age. Taehyung slumped onto the dusty floor, pulling you down with you, squeezing your hand tighter than ever before. You ran a hand through his messy brown hair, swiping it off his forehead, pressing your's to his temple-

"Ugh, why dont you two kiss and get it over with already?" The scoff seemed dry and underhanded, Jackson's deep coffee gaze eyeing you with the hint of jelousy...

"What do you mean?" "You clearly have a thing for eachother, just make it official Y/N" "Jackson dont-" "No dont tell me dont, i tried for years to make you realize i wasnt what you wanted but you never listened to me" He bang to raise his voice, you stood, Taehyung looking up at you with his large doe eyes... What was Jackson trying to say-

"I wanted a guy like me, careless, but i knew what you needed Y/N and you are just so- youre so blind" He laughed at you, his eyes looking at you with such a mix of feeling, his eyebrows raising a bit to emphasize the fact that he thought you were a half wit.. "What do you mean?" your voice was rattled and dry, eyes hinting in confusion as you beamed up at him..

"I mean you love him and deep down-" "Stop" Taehyung stood now, putting a hand on Jackson's chest, gently shoving him back towards the shelves, "You dont know anything about her" His voice sounded so strong, and admittedly you and jackson both felt some sort of shock with him now standing here....

"I know more than you think bud" "Just because you had sex with her doesnt mean you know her" His words stunned you, you had never told him or any of your friends you and Jackson had a sexual relationship, just that you two flirted and such- "How-How did you know about that" "Im not dumb Y/N i knew what was going, people dont just cry because the person the 'flirt with' said they dont care about them" Jackson shifted backwards a bit, his eyes boiling with rage- "You have no fucking clue what you are talking about" his shout was loud, it made your ears ring since the space was so enclosed and cramped, it was all a blurr after that, the only you remember was Taehyung be shoved so hard the door popped open and then you were home..

You laid in your bed, unmoving, but you could feel someone next to you, the warmth of the body, their breath, it was touching your arm skin.... "taehyungie?" you whispered not having the courage to look to see if it was him.. He grumbled in response to your call, a relived sign escaping your lips- "why... why are you in my bed?" He pushed himself into a sitting position, his broad tanned back facing you, your cheeks lighting up causing you to pull the covered over your nose.. "I couldnt sleep so i came in here" He said softly, you chuckled a bit sitting up as well your head landing on he sleepy boy's shoulder.. "Im sorry about tonight" Your voice was in a hushed whisper, cheek burning against his cool bare shoulder... He didnt say anything for a while, not even moving..

"Its fine Y/N..." "Its No-" "i said its fine.."

to be continued