#i love him so much and he's exactly the kind of boy i like drawing

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - perfect match

a/n: watch me suddenly appear out of nowhere after the school year has finally ended to post something!! i'm sure absolutely no one is surprised that tsukishima is the centre of this fic, but tbh idk how to feel about it (it's definitely longer than my usual ones but i didn't proofread it, so idk if the lenght is an advantage or not) but i hope you'll like it ^^ with school being over for the next two months i'll finally have time to write, so expect more works soon!!

summary: you and tsukishima decide to help your friends get together, but the plan is long forgotten when you realize what your own feelings are.

warnings: nothing really, canon yamayachi (my loves), some light swearing, bad writing

tsukishima kei did not expect any of his friends to bother him in the middle of the night. hell, he didn't even expect any of them to disturb his alone time at all. and yet at exactly 2.34 in the morning, right as he was about to turn off his currently binge watched tv show and go to sleep, he felt his phone buzzing on the nightstand. 

his eyes focused on your name, written in white font on his phone screen, surely shocked by the sight.

'why are you calling me at 2 in the goddamn morni-'

'is yamaguchi interested in anyone?'

your question caught him off-guard even more than the call itself, his brows furrowing in a weirded-out look. 

'if you're asking for yourself, i'm positive that he is not interested.' 

tsukishima heard a sigh of annoyance on the other side of the call and could only imagine the exact look on your face in this very moment. 

'well, thank god, because i'm not asking for myself.' you said. there were muffled sounds of someone preparing food in the background. 'i'm asking for yachi.'

the blonde boy smiled unconsciously.

'he does like her.' the boy stated, turning off his laptop as he put it back on the desk. 'so much so, in fact, that it can be kind of annoying sometimes.'

you squealed with excitement, a giggle leaving your mouth at tsukishima's remark. 

'perfect! now, listen carefully.'

that singular phone call created an alliance between you and kei. an alliance with only one goal; getting your two best friends to finally confess to each other. to both of you, it was almost infuriating how blind they were; how they didn't notice just how obvious it was that they both shared the same feeling. constant blushing at as little as a mention of the other's name, the stolen glances, the very obvious pining - all of it seemed to be non-existent in the eyes of both yamaguchi and yachi.

but lucky for them, you had a plan.

his eyes lingered on you for a few seconds, as if awaiting a sign from you. tsukishima still thought of your 'master plan' as rather silly, but seeing the determination on your face, and the frown that appeared when he called your idea stupid was enough for him to sigh and go with it this once.

the four of you were currently occupied with studying for a math test coming up next week, everyone nose deep in their notebooks. well, everyone except for kei.

the boy cleared his throat almost theatrically, drawing the attention of the three of you.

'yamaguchi, i think i'll have to pass on the movies this weekend.' he said, the tone of his voice as lifeless as ever. 'akiteru insisted that i go to one of his games, so i guess you'll have to take someone else.'

the freckled boy looked a little troubled upon hearing the information. both you and tsukishima were well aware that the tickets to the cinema were already paid for; yamaguchi would definitely be sad if it all went to waste. 

'well, i guess i can ask hina-'

'yachi, didn't you tell me last week that you wanted to go to the movies with someone?' you barged in before the boy could even finish his sentence, your friend freezing in her spot at the mention of a conversation you had not that long ago, cheeks flushed pink at the mere thought of going somewhere with yamaguchi one-on-one. 'maybe you'd fill in for tsukki?' 

the girl glanced at you, panic in her eyes as an awkward silence filled the room, everyone waiting for her to answer. you gave her an encouraging smile, as if trying to non-verbally tell her to go for it, to use this as a chance to get closer to the boy she liked for so long. 

'if yamaguchi doesn't mind...' she mumbled quietly, head turning to face the boy who was already shaking his head. 

'of course i don't.' yamaguchi smiled, his small dimples showing up in the process. 

you glanced over to look at tsukishima, a triumphant smile on your face as if you just won a volleyball tournament. his hair was slightly messy, and his glasses were sliding off his nose, two of the top buttons on his school uniform unbuttoned, showing a bit of his collarbones. surprisingly enough, the blonde boy smiled back; a small, quick smile that your eyes barely noticed. you had no idea what it was, but something about that singular smile made your heart beat faster. 

don't. the main focus of this entire thing is to get yachi and yamaguchi together. not to think of tsukishima and how attractive he looks- 

shit.

developing a crush on tsukishima kei was certainly not part of your plan. 

at first, you tried ignoring it as much as you could, focusing solely on your friends and getting them to date. as time went on and yamaguchi and yachi started getting closer, you almost felt a sense of relief - you could finally stop spending so much time around tsukishima, which made your chances of getting over your stupid crush higher. 

but it wasn't as easy as you thought. tsukishima was intelligent, pretty, and his snarky remarks and judgy personality actually drew you to him even more with each passing day. through the countless conversations and numerous phone calls, he proved himself to be more than just a salty, mean guy that everyone viewed him as.

'soon enough, they won't even need our help.' you mumbled to yourself as you opened your bento box, a smile on your face as you noticed your mom homemade onigiri inside. 'i don't know what i'll do with myself then.'

tsukishima scoffed, closing the textbook in front of him.

'maybe start focusing on your own love life for once.'

'hey! it's not my fault that i'm a good friend.' you stated, mouth full of food, as you looked up at your friend sitting on the opposite side of the table, looking through the tasks assigned for next week. 'besides, it's not like i'm the only one.'

tsukishima adjusted his glasses, looking up at you for a mere second before focusing back on his notebook.

'touché.'

'oh, come on.' you whined out, dissatisfied with the lack of response from the blonde boy. 'you won't miss this even a little bit?'

alright, maybe just a bit-

'no.' tsukishima stated firmly, fixing his posture as he highlighted one of the important sentences written down. you heard a bit of hesitation in his voice, and the few seconds of silence before hearing an answer couldn't help but make you wonder. you decided to ignore it this time - he was focused on something else right now, there was no need to disturb him. 

'do you think yachi will like my outfit?'

tsukishima was sitting at the edge of his best friend's bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and occasionally looking up to see the twelfth - no, thirteenth shirt that yamaguchi has tried on already. the boy sighed, turning his device off. 

'it's your first official date, i'm sure she doesn't mind what you wear.' he stated, gaining a frown from yamaguchi.

'you didn't answer my question.'

'alright, i think she'll like it.' the blonde haired boy said, reaching out for a bag of chips, opening it with a loud sound. 'but i'm sure she'll focus more on the date itself rather than what you're wearing.'

ever since announcing to their friends that they're going on their first official date, both yamaguchi and yachi were full of stress, constantly overthinking every little detail from their outfit to whether or not the date will go well or not. tsukishima found it rather comical - it was only a date after all. why stress over it so much? he never went on one, obviously, but he always thought that when the day came, he'd approach it calmly.

'do you have any tips on how to not freak out?' yamaguchi asked suddenly, catching his friend off-guard. 'during the date, i mean.'

'how can i know? i've never gone on one.'

the freckled boy looked at tsukishima, a confused expression on his face as he processed his words.

'oh.' he paused for a second, his voice quieter when he continued speaking. 'i thought you and y/n were, you know, a thing.'

huh?

to say tsukishima was shocked was an understatement. he genuinely had no idea what to say; he never even let a thought of you and him being more than friends, 'partners in crime', as you loved to say, slip through his mind. never did it occur to him that someone from the outside would see your relationship as being something more than a merely platonic one. 

well, maybe there was something to it after all. 

yamaguchi's words made him wonder - although he did find you annoying at times, it was only occasionally and to a very little degree. that in itself was very rare in tsukishima's eyes, as he found most of the people surrounding him at least normally annoying. you, on the other hand, were a completely different case. your jokes, no matter how awkward or downright cringe, made him crack a silent laugh more often than not, and every time he saw you smile, his lips uncontrollably curved up into a small, barely noticeable one themselves. 

'oh, no, absolutely not.' the blonde blurted out after a long minute of silence, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red. 'there is not a single bone in my body that would want to date her. now get up idiot, or you'll be late to your date.'

the moment tsukishima opened his bedroom, after walking his friend to the bus stop, he immediately plopped down on his bed, phone in hand, instinctively opening messages to write to you. surprisingly enough, a message was already waiting for him.

'yachi almost cried because of how stressed she is T-T'

'do you think we should spy on them to make sure it all goes well?'

he found himself smiling at the words on his phone screen, quickly typing back an answer. 

'do you really not have a life of your own?'

'idiot.'

only after a few minutes did he get a response from you.

'can i come over?? i'm bored :33'

a harmless message, one might think. in reality, tsukishima was freaking out at the mere thought of hanging out with you for a reason other than setting up your friends, his cheeks a light shade of pink as his eyes kept digging a hole through his phone. 

you weren't any better than him - hands slightly shaky as you awaited a response for what felt like hours, but was actually just a few minutes. you had no idea what took over you; was it a sudden wave of bravery or rather an idiotic spontaneous choice to ask tsukishima that. but nonetheless, when you finally got the response, you felt ecstatic.

'alright.'

'bring some snacks.'

'kei, i think yamaguchi is he- oh, that's certainly a new face.'

you stood in front of the door with an awkward smile, facing tsukishima's older brother, akiteru, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. to say he was surprised was an understatement - he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. as if a friend that's not yamaguchi coming over to tsukishima's house was so out of the ordinary that it could become a national holiday. 

'come in.' the younger male appeared in the back of the hall, an oversized dinosaur shirt and shorts on. his expression was softer than usual; not until he looked at his brother, whom he gave a sharp stare, signaling him to let you inside and don't make such a fuss about it. 

you sat down on his bed, awkward silence filling up the room. not wanting to make the conversation about your friends as per usual, you slowly realized you don't know what to talk about, trying to think of something, anything, as you began unpacking your bag filled with snacks. 

surprisingly enough, it was tsukishima who spoke up first. 

'wanna watch a movie?' he asked, opening his drawer to pull out two bottles of soda, hidden there so that his brother doesn't devour all of them. 'unless it'll make you even more bored than you were before.'

'well, if you have a boring taste in movies-' 

'says the one who looks like their favorite movie is mamma mia.' tsukishima scoffed under his breath, turning his laptop on and starting to search up movies. you looked at him, a dramatic expression as you pretended to be offended. 

'and you look like you're about to mansplain the godfather to me.' 

a short silence filled the room before you heard the blonde boy let out a short, muffled laugh at your comment. 

'you couldn't be more wrong.' he sat down next to you, a small smile still on his face. 'i found it kind of boring, actually.'

'what do you like, then?'

'horror movies.' tsukishima stated, eyes focused on the screen. 'but tadashi gets easily scared, so i often don't have a chance to watch them.'

'same with me and yachi.' you said, unconsciously scooping a bit closer to the boy as you tried to get a better look at what he was searching up. 'i love them, but yachi jumps at every small scare on the screen. sometimes, she even gets scared when there's nothing happening at all.'

'they really do match each other.' he mumbled, putting the laptop on the bed as he pressed play on a movie he chose. his eyes quickly glanced your way to get a nod of approval on his choice.

'yeah, they do.'

and we could, too.

'are you and tsukishima dating?'

you almost spat out your drink, the words coming out of hinata's mouth catching you so off-guard you were close to choking. 

the three of you, along with kageyama, were currently cleaning up after volleyball practice, the boys racing on who would clean more balls off of the floor.

'no, we're not.' you said in a clearly sad tone with an obvious hint of dissatisfaction in your voice. 'what the hell made you think that way?'

the orange haired boy stopped in his tracks, his signature smile disappearing for a minute as he got lost in his own thoughts. 

'oh! i remember now.' he said after a short while, his grin coming back. 'yamaguchi told me that you two are close.'

'he did also mention that he seems happier around you.' kageyama added, joining the conversation. 'seeing tsukishima happy must be pretty scary.'

not really, you thought. but at the same time, what confused you more was what kageyama said right before. 

he seems happier around you.

yamaguchi has been kei's friend for the longest time, so any of his observations must be true, or at least that's what you liked to believe. but would that mean that tsukishima kei, the salty, closed-off guy whom everyone finds intimidating could possibly like you? was there truly a possibility that he enjoyed spending time with you? 

as you finished cleaning up the hall, saying your goodbyes to your two friends who ran off to practice volleyball somewhere else, a familiar, tall figure appeared in the doorframe, sharp eyes staring at you with an expression that you couldn't exactly decipher. 

'want me to walk you home?' he asked, hands in his pockets. 'it's getting late.'

you looked at him, trying to hide the blush creeping up onto your cheeks before quickly nodding as an answer.

'sure, let's go.'

most of the walk was filled with silence on both parts, exactly as you expected. even though it might've felt awkward for some, you did enjoy his presence in itself enough that a conversation wasn't necessary. 

the boy stopped in his tracks mid-way, reaching into his backpack and pulling out his phone and an old pair of white, wired earphones, showing them to you as a silent question of whether you wanted to listen to music with him or not. you agreed without a second thought, a small smile on your face as he put on one of his playlists. 

'i really like this song.' you mumbled, eyes lighting up upon hearing the familiar melody. with both of you wearing the same set of headphones right now, you were practically forced to walk closer to each other - hands constantly brushing against one another, a faint blush on your face as you tried to ignore it and focus on the music. 

tsukishima, on the other hand, couldn't shake away the thoughts roaming around his head. he felt as if what he was doing now was incredibly unlike him; and maybe it was. but for some reason, he didn't mind being like this around you. less cocky, sarcastic, mean and more... gentle.

he could feel his fingers brushing against yours from time to time, and it drove him crazy. should he go for it and play it off nonchalantly, or just ignore it? should he even make the first move or wait for you to do it?

before he was able to decide, tsukishima felt your hand reaching for his, heart rate immediately speeding up as your fingers shyly intertwined with his, looking the other way to hide your anxious expression.

his hand was much bigger than yours, but somehow it fit perfectly with yours. as if they were created solely to hold one another and nothing else. the plan to get your friends to be together was long forgotten by now - your mind was clouded with thoughts of tsukishima only, and little did you know that his wasn't any different. 

you glanced his way only to find his eyes already on you, hiding his true feelings behind a nonchalant look. only now did you notice that the two of you were standing in front of your house, the boy adjusting his glasses as he waited to see what you'll do next. 

'i guess i should go home now.' you mumbled, but you still didn't move an inch, hand not leaving his. 'see you tomorrow?'

his hand squeezed yours tightly before taking it away, an unusually warm and welcoming smile on his face. 

'sure. see you tomorrow, idiot.'

but as you slowly made your way towards the door, tsukishima couldn't shake away the feeling in him, telling him to go for it. and as much as he tried to resist it, he just couldn't anymore. 

'wait.’

before you could fully turn away, tsukishima kei's lips were already on yours, a sweet, long kiss that felt as if he was waiting to do it for years. his hand traveled to your waist and it didn't take long for you to react; lips moving swiftly with his, noses bumping into one another before you pulled away, a giggle escaping your mouth as you saw just how red tsukishima's face was.

‘don't laugh at me, moron.’ he said, immediately catching the reason for your laughter as he flicked you in the forehead. ‘your whole face is red, too.’

‘i didn't expect you to do this.’ you mumbled, eyes focused on his as you reached to hold his hand again. ‘didn't expect my feelings to be mutual, either.’

‘i'm glad we feel the same.’ his face leaned in closer to yours, a wave of confidence taking over him as he placed a short kiss on your forehead. ‘but i would still prefer to properly ask you out. if you'd say yes, that is.’ 

‘of course i would.’ you smiled, ‘i'd be stupid not to.’

‘should we bet on how long it takes the others to realize we're dating now?’ tsukishima smiled at you, eyes not leaving yours for even a spare second. you laughed at his idea, giving his hand a squeeze. 

‘get ready to lose, kei.’

‘you wish.’

taglist: @moonswolfie

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.

Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?

— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!

— wc: 3136

⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)

masterlist | AO3

As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.

“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.” 

You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown. 

You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.

“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.

“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”

“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.

“Absolutely not -”

“What? No -”

Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.

“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”

“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.

You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.

His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better. 

It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.

Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.

“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her. 

“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!” 

Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug. 

“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.

Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.

“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.

Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.

“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”

Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.

He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted. 

Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum? 

Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.

Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.

But you were going to.

You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.

The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.

“Spencer?” You asked in surprise. 

Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.

The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”

“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.

“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”

Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.

“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.” 

“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.

“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”

You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”

“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”

And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.

Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.

“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”

“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”

His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”

When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.

“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear. 

His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.

“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?” 

The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.

After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.

“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.

He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”

He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.

You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.

“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.

His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.

“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits. 

“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.

“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.” 

Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.

“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.

“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.

“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks. 

“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”

“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”

He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.

But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.

“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.” 

You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.

He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.

You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.

You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.” 

Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.

Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.

“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.” 

The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.

“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.

“Mphm! More - I need more.”

“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.

“I - I’m gonna cum.” 

It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.

Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.

It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.

“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”

“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.

There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”

“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment. 

“How about ice cream?”

“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”

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[dreamescapeswriting]

Only Yours ~ MYG

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 3.7K

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: established relationships,playfully rejecting her until it goes too far, he loves YOUR attention and no one elses, first kiss, cute, fluffy ending

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

Yoongi and you have always been extremely close and comfortable with one another, the two of you would rarely hang out without the other one being there and it was something you loved. Whenever you were around him you'd be super affectionate with him in subtle ways - that the guys and even Yoongi had noticed.

You'd fix his hair, bring him coffee, lightly tease him about things and shower him with tons of compliments or sometimes even gifts. It wasn't that much of a big deal since it was something you loved doing and it was your love language. Yoongi usually played it off like he did with Taehyung, he'd brush off your gestures in a playful, teasing way. He'd swat your hand away when you were ruffling his hair or sometimes give you a deadpanned comment whenever you complimented him. It was just what he did but they were meant to just be lighthearted, something he did with everyone but he hadn't noticed that it started to chip away at you.

Every swat or deadpan comment chipped your confidence away bit by bit until you were second-guessing everything you'd done for him and wondering if he even cared at all.

"You got something for Yoongi again?" Jimin teases you as you walk into the studio after a long day, he can see the small bag in your hand and that usually means you had a present for one member only. The boys had just finished rehearsals and you saw yoongi scrolling through his phone.

"Maybe," you smirk holding the small bag in your hand. You'd been out that morning when you spotted the perfect gift for Yoongi.

"What is it, Yn? Another one of your 'special gifts'?" Yoongi questioned with a lazy smirk plastered across his face, secretly adoring that you'd gotten him something he was going to put with all of your other gifts. Unbeknownst to you and the members Yoongi kept everything you'd ever gotten him.

"You know it! Open it! Open it!" you giggled handing him the small box that was wrapped in silver shiny paper. Sighing to himself Yoongi took the box and began to tear open the paper to reveal a sleek, black notebook that had his name embossed on the over. You watched him waiting for a reaction but he just deadpanned,

"Ah, a notebook. Just what I needed...another one. I have like ten of these." He teased but you hadn't picked up on the teasing tone, only that he hated your gift. Laughing a little to yourself you tried to brush it off but Jimin noticed the nervousness in your eyes, it was as plain as day.

"I just thought...you could use it for lyrics. It's small enough to put in any bag, so when inspiration strikes," You shrugged a little and Yoongi shut the notebook, leaning back against the sofa and chuckling.

"Yeah, because I definitely need another one to stare at blankly when I can’t think of lyrics." The others laughed at his dry humour but your smile faltered ever so slightly, it was one of those blink and you'll miss it kind of things but it hadn't gone unnoticed by Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook.

"Don't worry, Yn. Yoongi's just being Yoongi. He loves it, in his own...weird way." Jimin tries to reassure you sensing that something is wrong but Yoongi shrugs clearly not realising how much his teasing was getting to you. Turning to you with a smirk he looked at you,

"You know me, Yn. I'm not exactly a 'gift' person." He shrugs a little and you force a smile onto your lips before speaking softly.

"Yeah-yeah...I know." You laugh lightly trying not to draw attention to your small stutter. You shrugged it all off, but there was a subtle shift in your demeanour as you turned your head to the door and mumbled something about going to get everyone a drink. Yoongi smirked a little still not realising what had happened but someone did. Jimin noticed the change in your mood instantly and began exchanging a glance with Jungkook who nodded at him to go after you.

You stood inside of the small kitchen and leaned against the counter, trying to shake off the sting of Yoongi’s words. It seemed silly for you to get worked up over something like this but you couldn't help the way it hurt you, you thought Yoongi loved this side of you but it was beginning to eat away at you that maybe he found it all a bit annoying. Looking at yourself in the reflection of the glass cabinet you took a deep breath and grabbed a glass of water. Jimin looked over at you as he walked into the room, leaning against the wall.

"Hey… you okay?" Stupid question when he could clearly see that you weren't but you turned to face him, forcing a smile onto your face.

"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?" You shake your head at him, playing it off like nothing was wrong but Jimin saw right through you. He crossed the room before leaning on the counter beside you and giving you a knowing look. Sometimes he liked to think he knew you better than you knew yourself and he knew right now you were lying.

"You looked a little upset back there. Did something Yoongi said bother you?" You looked down at your glass and then rolled your eyes. You were probably just being overdramatic about it all,

"It’s nothing. He’s just… being Yoongi, right?" Jimin nodded at you but then sighed a little,

"True. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t bother you." You hesitated a little before glancing down at your glass and sighing, it wasn't like you wanted to be upset over it.

"I don’t know, Jimin. It’s just… I feel like I’m always trying to do these little things for him, and he never seems to really care. Like, maybe I’m being too much, you know? Maybe I should just stop and it'll stop him being so cold?" Jimin frowns at you, no one here would ever think you were being too much.

"You’re not too much. You’re just being yourself, and that’s a good thing. Yoongi’s just… well, he’s not always great at showing how he feels..." You looked at him and smiled weakly at him, you knew he was trying to be nice to you while defending Yoongi at the same time.

"I know. I just… maybe I need to back off a little. Give him space." Jimin watches you for a moment before reaching out to squeeze your shoulder, he knew that there was nothing he could say to you right now that could change your mind so he nodded at you.

"Just do what feels right for you. But don’t lose that part of yourself that’s so caring. That’s what makes you, you."

Back in the studio, the members are still lounging around waiting for you to get back, all of them doing their own thing. But it was Yoongi who glanced toward the door noticing you hadn't come back yet and it worried him a little, not that he'd ever voice it to anyone though.

"Man, you’re always so cold, hyung. Can’t you be nice for once?" Jungkook teased Yoongi who quickly snapped out of his worried state and turned back to Jungkook with a smirk as he shrugged. It wasn't as if you ever took any of it to heart, you knew how cold he was with everyone and you knew he was joking...Right?

"Nice isn’t really my thing." He answered keeping up his cold/bad-boy persona making Jungkook rin and shake his head. Meanwhile, Taehyung moved closer to Yoongi and nudged him softly. He'd noticed the looks of doubt spreading over your face and he knew exactly what you were going through.

"You should be careful, hyung. One of these days, someone’s going to take your cold act to heart." Taehyung tried to tell him it was you who was hurt in a non-confrontational way but it was as if the hint went right over Yoongi's head as he rolled his eyes. But his smile faded a little as Taehyung’s words linger in his head and he bit down on his lip. Had they bothered you? He moves a little and stares back over at the door. Is that why you haven't come back yet? The door handle jiggled a little before it opened to reveal Jimin, alone.

"Yn's gone home for the night. Said something about having a headache." He shrugged before joining the rest of the guys but Yoongi couldn't help but stare at the door, waiting for you to come in again.

The days went by and while you were still around in the studio and with the boys there was something off about you. Something that didn't feel right. Whenever you bought Yoongi his morning Coffee you'd usually sit with him and talk his ear off, something he told you he hated but something he rather looked forward to in the mornings. It had become a part of his routine but you'd stopped, claiming you had stuff to do.

The same thing happened when he asked you for some help in the studio, you'd told him you'd be there but there was no playful banter between you. Your voice even lacked the enthusiasm he'd loved about it and you were withdrawn from him, no longer coming to watch him write or even practice.

As usual, Yoongi was in the studio alone, working on a song that he was supposed to be keeping his focus on but his mind kept getting distracted as he replayed the interactions with you from over the past few days. He glances at his phone expecting to see something from you but there is nothing but a blank screen.

His hand hovered over the screen as he debated calling you, asking you to come and join him just so he could hear you ramble about your day but before he could the door opened. His heart launched into his throat as he turned around expecting to see you standing there but it was Taehyung,

"Yoongi-hyung! Working hard as always, huh?" He smirked cheerfully but Yoongi just threw him a half-hearted smile and leaned back in his chair.

"Hey, Tae… can I ask you something?" Yoongi's serious tone only worried Taehyung who nodded at him, leaning forward a little.

"Of course. What’s up?"

"Have you noticed anything… different with YN lately?" Taehyung thought for a little while nodding his head, you hadn't been around as much and you'd stopped spending all your free time with them.

"Yeah… she’s been quieter. She’s not her usual self around you, at least. Why? Did something happen?" Yoongi let out a sigh before running a hand through his hair and shaking his head at himself. He didn't even know where all of this had gone wrong but he knew it was his fault.

"I don’t know. She just… I don’t know. She’s not hanging around as much. No teasing, no small talk. Even her smiles seem… off." Taehyung looked at Yoongi, he hadn't realised he paid so much attention to your smile and the whole thing made Taehyung smirk a little but he did his best to hide it.

"Well, maybe you should ask her about it? YN’s sensitive. Maybe something’s bothering her, and she doesn’t know how to talk to you about it." Yoongi's frown deepened, his mind racing as he considered it, usually, you told him anything and everything that came into your mind. He ran over everything that had happened in the last few days and he thought back to when you got him that notebook, the one staring up at him blankly from his desk as he tried to write in it. He'd rejected the advancement from it but it was his favourite thing right now.

"You think… I did something?" His voice came out shakey as he turned to look at Taehyung who simply shrugged a little.

"Maybe. But the only way to find out is to ask her."

It had been a few more days and your behavior continued to shift and twist. You still interacted with the group, but there was a noticeable distance between you and Yoongi, something all of them had even picked up on and were worrying about. It wasn't like you to be so cold and closed off with anyone, let alone Yoongi.

One afternoon, Yoongi walked into the kitchen where you and Jungkook were joking around with each other, it was the first time in days that Yoongi had seen your smile and he was going to do everything he could to watch it for a few seconds. But that green-eyed monster was on his shoulder as he watched from the doorway, a tightness in his chest as he saw you laughing freely with Jungkook—something you hadn’t done with him in days.

"Wow, YN, you’re actually in a good mood today!" Jungkook teased as you laughed softly, shaking your head. You were always in a good mood whenever you weren't around Yoongi but you weren't about to tell his best friend and band member that.

"Shut up, Jungkook. I’m always in a good mood." Taking this chance Yoongi stepped into the kitchen, clearing his throat to get your attention. Jungkook glances over and grins, but your smile fades ever so slightly as you notice Yoongi approaching you both.

"Hey, YN. Got time to talk?" He smiled warmly at you but you looked down at your cup, avoiding his gaze.

"Uh… sure. What’s up?" Jungkook exchanged a glance with Yoongi who nodded for him to leave and he smiled a little, rubbing your shoulder as he got up,

"I’ll leave you two to it. Don’t kill each other." He teased before rushing out, not giving you a chance to stop him from leaving you there with Yoongi.

Once the two of you were alone it was as if the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. It was obvious to anybody that something was going on between the two of you and yet neither of you spoke a word about it.

"Yn...Please, talk to me." He whispered, not caring if he sounded as though he was begging or not, he wanted his friend back.

"Is something going on? You’ve been… distant lately." Choosing to shrug it off you shook your head at him and smiled doing your best to fake it with him.

"I’ve just been busy, that’s all." Yoongi scoffed at you, narrowing his eyes. There was no way he was going to believe some shitty excuse about being busy when usually he was the one keeping you busy.

"Come on, YN. We both know it’s more than that. You’re not acting like yourself… at least, not around me." His voice trailed a little at the end as he remembered you laughing freely with Jungkook, the jealousy creeping back in once again.

"I don’t know, Yoongi… maybe I’ve just been overthinking things." You mumbled a little and shrugged your shoulders. This wasn't exactly how you planned on telling him how you felt lately but it was going to come out nether-the-less.

"Overthinking what?" You hesitate a little, struggling to find the right words to tell him how you were feeling, how he'd been making you feel as of late. Biting down on your lip, you finally looked up at him

"I just… I started to feel like maybe I was being too much. Like all the little things I do—bringing you coffee, giving you gifts, trying to be close—it just seemed like you didn’t really… want it." You looked down at your hands and then rolled your eyes trying to stop yourself from crying in front of him.

"I didn’t want to keep pushing you if it was annoying you." You finished and Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly as realization dawns on him. He opens his mouth to respond but closes it, guilt washing over him. He'd been playfully pushing you away thinking you saw it as playful as well,

"I didn’t know…"

"It’s fine. I’m just trying to give you space." Yoongi’s heart tightened. Space? He didn't want space! he didn't want space from you, he wanted you close and he wanted you to be there with him all of the time like you used to be.

Reaching out he touched your hand softly and shook his head, your eyes met from across the table and your heart raced a little as you saw just how guilty he was.

"YN… I never wanted you to feel like that. I thought I was just teasing you, like I do with the others, but… I never meant to make you feel like you had to pull away."

"It’s just… hard to tell sometimes." You whispered and Yoongi watched you for a moment, guilt and frustration warring within him.

"I’ve been stupid. I know I’m not great at showing how I feel, but… I miss it. All of it. The coffee, the jokes, the… you. I didn’t realize how much I depended on it until you started pulling away." You look up at him, your heart practically working overtime now but he smiles at you, continuing with what he was saying.

"You’re not “too much,” YN. If anything, I didn’t appreciate it enough. I don’t want space from you… I never want space from you again...I just didn’t know how to show you that I care. But I do. A lot. Please come back," Your expression softened at his words as you realised how much you meant to him, the tension in your shoulders eased a little as you relaxed around him.

"I didn’t know that’s how you felt." You whispered as he smiled shyly at you, a small blush creeping its way onto his cheeks. It wasn't like him to be so vulnerable around someone but he was doing it with you, for you. He wanted you to see how deeply he cared about you.

"Well, I’m telling you now. I’m not great with words, but I’m trying here."

It had been a few weeks since the incident and you and Yoongi were back to full working order. You bought him his coffee and sat together during the day. You 'annoyed' him in all of the ways that he loved you to do and you were inseparable again.

The two of you were on the rooftop garden of the building, looking out over the city, your head was leaning on his shoulder as you did your best to wake up a little more. The coffee you'd gotten hadn't rushed into your system yet but Yoongi had insisted on coming to watch the sun.

The sun was just starting to rise, casting a soft golden glow over the buildings and it was incredibly peaceful, something Yoongi did whenever he wanted time to think.

"It’s beautiful up here." You stated between a yawn and Yoongi smiled to himself and nodded.

"Yeah. It’s one of my favourite places to think."

"You're thinking right now, I can practically smell the burning." You teased making Yoongi laugh softly but it wasn't a full laugh. Lifting your head from his shoulder you were prepared to ask him what was wrong but he was already looking at you.

"Yn..." He whispered a little and watched you,

"I’ve been thinking… about what you said before. About how you felt like you were being too much." Your heart was in your throat, was he about to take all of it back? Were you too much? Had you gotten worse?

"Yeah?" your voice shook a little and Yoongi could sense your overthinking, he took your hand in his and squeezed softly bringing your mind back to him in the present.

"I just want you to know… you’re never too much for me. I actually… I like that you care so much." You nodded at him, he'd already told you this the other day,

"Yoongi-"

"Listen," He chuckled softly as he cut you off, your heart skipping a beat as you felt your face warm as he touched your cheek softly,

"It’s not something I’m used to, but… I need it. I need you." He ran his thumb along your bottom lip as he locked his eyes with yours.

"Yoongi…"

"I might not be the best at showing it, but I don’t want to lose what we have. I… I care about you a lot, YN. More than I’ve let on. And I don’t want you to second-guess that anymore." Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to process his words. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he’s letting down his walls just for you...Only you.

"I care about you too, Yoongi. A lot." Your voice shook a little and he looked at you, leaning in closer to you. So close you could feel his breath on your lips.

"So… no more backing off, okay?" He whispered to you, your head nodding before you could get the words out to answer him.

"Okay. No more backing off." You promised him and he smiled at you. Running his thumb along your bottom lip once again before he slowly leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tender kiss. It’s soft at first, tentative as if you're both savouring the moment, but it quickly deepens into something more passionate. Yoongi pulled you closer to him, bringing you onto his lap as he smiled against your lips in the kiss.

This was everything he'd been wanting, and more, fireworks exploding around him as you pushed your hands into his hair, deepening the kiss as you let his tongue into your mouth

When the two of you finally pulled back for air, Yoongi kept his forehead resting against yours, his hand still gently cupping your cheek as you let out a small and nervous giggle at him. That was one of the best kisses you'd ever experienced in your life and you couldn't get your heart to stop trying to escape and run into his waiting hands.

"That wasn’t too annoying, right?" Yoongi asked with a giant smirk on his face. Laughing a little you looked at him, your eyes sparkling a little.

"Not at all. In fact, I might need more of that." You giggled as he leaned closer to you

"I think that can be arranged." He whispered before kissing you once again, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to rest on his lap.

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[delphi-shield]

:// sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ғᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ / ʙɪʟʟʏ.ʙᴜᴛᴄʜᴇʀ

Billy Butcher x Reader smut, hurt/no comfort wc: ~5.2k mdni read on ao3 digging the worms out of my brain real quick since i finally caught up with the boys. idk i think i worked through something personal with this, so like, that's a win for me.

summary: Butcher knows better than to be fucking around with you, but there's 50 quid in it for him if he gets you to call him 'daddy'. Easy money.

content: s4 spoilers, dubcon, butcher's pov, an exorbitant amount of kessler in the first half, age gap, general sleazy behavior, handjob, finger fucking, piv, pussy slapping, some just the tip action, blowjob, mentions of titfucking, degradation, general objectification, public sex, not proofread.

“Makes you realize men have nipples too.”

The bar is packed for a Wednesday night, but Butcher already knows exactly what Kessler is talking about. You’re a ditch lily, sitting tall in this shithole. He turns his head away, pretends he doesn't see the way you lick up a trail of spilled cosmopolitan from the side of your glass, pink tongue parting your lips, eyes half-shut. 

Fucking typical. Kessler could sniff out daddy issues and sadness from a mile away, and he was lethal at half that distance. He could have them wrapped around his finger in the time it took Butcher to take a piss.

His eyes linger. A thing like you doesn't belong in a dump like this. This is the sort of place girls like you stumble into at 1 AM, survey the crowd through the haze of cigarette smoke, and wobble right back out onto the streets, take your chances with the elements rather than the haggard, unfriendly crowd that hunches over their drinks.

Butcher likes Midwest 10's. Begs Kessler to stop ogling barely legal co-eds, says he's not some sleazy cunt in a John Hughes film. He can lie all he wants. If it makes him hard, it makes Butcher hard. 

He glances sidelong at your face. You've got this Christmas-light bright smile that makes his dick jerk. Kessler’s more than under his skin. He’s in his veins, in the same blood that raises his cock up like a goddamn bicycle pump when you lean over the bar, arms squeezing your tits together.

"You could probably fuck 'em." Kessler tips his head to the side, eyes locked on your cleavage. His eyes narrow, lips pursed, evaluating your chest and charting a course for his dick to travel.

"Shut up."

"Huh?"

Fuck. Your tip your head to the side from two seats away, brows pinched together. Cute, in a lost little lamb kind of way.

Butcher's eyes cut to Kessler. He's cocked it all up now. The sly, punchable grin on Kessler’s face turns him back to his drink. He drains his glass and gestures for another. If he doesn’t look at you, if he keeps drinking, this all goes away.

"Nothin'. Don't you worry about it, love."

That should be the end of it, but you’ve clearly got something wrong with you. You fiddle with your purse, pluck up your courage, and drop yourself onto the barstool next to him. Whether you’ve got no sense of self-preservation or you’re just that damn oblivious, he doesn’t intend to get to know you well enough to find out. Butcher's strained smile doesn't do much to smooth the worry lines away.

Kessler chuckles, leans back and props his elbows up on the bar. Cunt just wants to watch him squirm.

"No," Kessler corrects, drawing the word out. "I want you to get some pussy."

His eyes dart over to Kessler, looming over you, hands ghosting up your arms to squeeze your shoulders. He blinks rapidly, rubs at his face, tries to play it off like he's nervous or tired or whatever the fuck but when he looks down, there's your tits again. Butcher lolls his head back to the ceiling. Laugh it up, you fuckin’ cunt.

And Kessler does. Makes a show of slapping his hand on his thigh, head knocked back, grinning toothily.

He tries to ignore you, but you’re straddling that stool next to him in your little skirt and ordering another cosmo. This isn’t the kind of bar for cocktails, and he knows without even seeing the bartender’s eye roll that he hates you.

It's none of his business. He ought to keep himself sat there drowning in his drink ‘til last call and past that, make them throw him out on the street, give him a reason to swing first. It's a better idea than messing with you.

The bartender drops your drink off in front of you and turns before the words ‘thank you’ leave your glossy lips. Another sickly pink cocktail with a dried out lime dropped on top. Butcher can’t help himself. He’s got a soft spot for the clueless.

“Cheery bloke, isn't he?” He says, casting a sidelong glance at the bartender. He taps a finger against the bartop, inclines his head toward your cocktail. “That the only drink you know the name of?”

Your cheeks warm. You hide it behind a hand, turning your face away from him to laugh.

“What? No. I just think they taste good.”

Kessler snorts. “That’s a fat load of shit.”

Butcher agrees. His mouth twists into a half-hearted smile. He slides his glass over to you. 

“Try it,” he insists.

There’s hardly a passing thought for your own safety. You look between his scotch and his face and seem to decide it’s safe to take drinks from strange old fucks in bars. Your fingers brush his when you take the glass, warm and soft - sticky. You must be more sloshed than you look, must keep spilling your drinks. Hell, for all he knows, maybe this place does make the best cosmo in the city. Maybe the bartender just hates your ass because you keep making a mess.

You don’t even ask what he’s drinking. (Maybe this is all a grift, he thinks. Kessler’s at his ear, chuckling - she ain’t bright enough for that.) You lift his glass and leave your lipstick behind.

“Oh my god.” You sputter, pound a fist against your chest. It makes your tits bounce. Fucking miracle your shirt is containing those things. “That tastes like ass.”

“That is the highest quality scotch this bar serves.”

“It tastes like someone put a cigarette out in a glass of whiskey.”

“It’s a shit bar.”

You laugh, head tipped back, nose scrunched - the works. You’re too tipsy for it to be on purpose. Being cute comes naturally to you. Must be how you’ve made it this far.

You pass his drink back and scoot your cosmo closer to you, spilling it as the glass skips over the pock-marked countertop. Butcher snorts, dabs it up for you with his sleeve. He’s starting to think his theory about the cosmopolitans might hold true.

“Well, here, a trade’s a trade.” He takes your drink by the stem (fucking amazed they even have martini glasses in this place) and pounds back a mouthful.

It isn’t that bad, but he makes a show of scrunching his nose and shaking his head. He slides your drink back over to you and mirrors the way you had clung to your drink.

“You’re kidding,” you laugh. “It’s better than yours. I don’t know how you drink that.”

“I’ll keep my liquid ashtray, thanks.”

Your eyes are all lit up when you smile, but it emphasizes the raw edges, the puffiness that lingers. Rough night for you, by the looks of it. Not like he’s having much of a better one.

There’s no harm in it. No harm in showing you what a proper drink tastes like, broadening your horizons and helping you both forget what a shit hand you’ve been dealt. He buys you a drink on the condition that you try something that isn’t a cosmopolitan. You can hardly stomach a whiskey and coke. He orders you a fernet and coke for shits and giggles, expects you to spit it out like all the rest, barks out a laugh when you declare it’s tasty, notes of lavender drawing you in. Notes of lavender - Christ, what fucking suburb did you pop out of? 

He introduces you to more drinks, leans closer with each empty glass. You're new here, you tell him. You tell him your name, too, not that he remembers. Got stood up on some shitty date. He knows it’s got to be shitty because what idiot in his right mind would take you here, of all places?

By the time he orders you both shots of Rumple Minze, you’re pressed shoulder to shoulder. Your hand splays against his chest, head leaning against him. You lift his shot to his lips for him and he’s too drunk to find it childish and irritating. He downs it and does the same for you, watches you extend that pretty neck to drink it down.

“I’ll get you a cab,” he slurs, rocking unsteadily to his feet.

“I already called an Uber.”

Jesus. It’s a struggle not to roll his eyes. Fucking kids. Allergic to one night stands, couldn’t take a hint to save their life. Even Kessler is on his side, his head thunking against the bartop.

It's for the best, he thinks, trying to curb his disappointment. He's got shit to do. Ryan to worry about. Kessler's a right cunt, pushing him to you. He hasn't got the time to be fucking about. This entire thing had been a waste of time, too busy trying to get his dick wet to make the most of what he’s got left.

Butcher stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat, steps back, ready to split and stumble his way back home. He nods quick and sharp, tight-lipped smile to keep his frustration locked behind his teeth.

You show him your phone, make him squint to see what he’s supposed to be looking at. “My Uber is still a couple minutes away, so…”

Kessler picks his head up from the bar. He's a bloodhound for pussy. He picks up the leading edge in your voice before Butcher’s even done parsing your words.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Kessler drones. “You can’t even get it up, can you?”

“I’m damn well going to try.”

“What?” You laugh, swaying on your feet.

Butcher wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you against his side. “Nothin’. Don’t you worry about it. I’ll keep you company. Make sure no nasties try to get you.”

The cold outside is bracing. You wrap your arms tight around yourself and this time Butcher’s too drunk to pretend he isn't staring at the way your tits press together.

It’s your idea. Really. The way you look up at him, the way your lips stay parted while the pair of you pace the sidewalk. You wrap your hand around his bicep and squeeze, eyes drifting slowly to the side, to the alleyway just a few strides away.

See? It’s your idea, honest. He drags you behind a dumpster, pins you to the wall of the alley, and shoves his tongue down your throat, yeah, but you moan so fucking loud and drag him closer. It takes longer than he'd like for your hand to stop massaging his chest and start fondling his cock, but you're a sweet girl - don't seem the type to do this too often. Need some guidance.

Butcher lays his hand atop yours, wraps your fingers tighter around his bulge. Your breath hitches, your eyes flicking down to your hand, mouth popped open - got this sweet, vacant little look in your eye.

He'd bet real money you go dumb for cock.

“$50 says you can get her to call you ‘daddy’,” Kessler pipes up, leaning against the wall next to you. He tips a cigarette into his mouth, cups a hand around to light it, and Butcher swears the light from his zippo gleam in your eyes. He doesn’t doubt it. Seems cruel, though, especially when he can’t remember your name.

“What was your name again?”

It takes a bit for you to get dick off your mind and fish around for your name. You mumble, make him lean in close and tilt his head to get you to say it again, clearer.

You're the obedient sort. Pick up on cues so easy. Don't even make him ask for it again. He pats your cheek, smirk creasing his face.

By your side, Kessler flashes a crisp $50. He plucks it taut, fans himself with it, makes a real show of being a dick while you try to take Butcher's out of his pants.

At the end of the day, 50 quid is 50 quid.

“How ‘bout you ask daddy for permission, sweetheart?”

Your mouth moves wordlessly.

“Please?”

He clicks his tongue. “That’s real polite. But it ain’t what I asked for, is it?”

“Can I please play with your cock, daddy?”

“Better.”

Kessler slips the fifty into Butcher’s coat pocket while you fumble with his belt and free him from his pants. You lay his cock in the seam of your hands, cupping him like he’s a gift on two legs. You stroke him reverently, look up at him with big, thoughtless lamb eyes.

Your heart’s in it, but you’re too reserved for his taste. He grips your hand in his and guides you down his cock, shows you when to squeeze, when to twist your wrist, how to flick your thumb over the slit of his tip.

He can never make it last when he drinks. Should have warned you before he came on your pretty skirt, but you’ve got a natural talent for stroking dick. He keeps his groan locked up tight. It rattles through his chest and he leans into you, crushing you against the wall of the alley. His hips stutter and rut into your hand, still wrapped around him, coaxing every drop from his tip. You still toy with him while he tries to catch his breath. He’s got to push away from you with a mumbled “Christ, all right, that’s enough.”

It’s like he’s taking your favorite toy away. You pout up at him, hand still molded for his cock by your side, by the skirt his ruined with his cum. He almost gets an apology out, but you drag a finger through his mess and bring it to your lips, make a show of licking it up.

His chest aches. He isn’t sure if it’s the tumor or his heart desperately trying to pump enough blood down to his dick to get him up again.

Butcher crams two fingers into his mouth and scrapes the dirt from beneath his nails with his teeth. The rest is a blur. He knows that he kicks your feet apart, traces your slit through your panties before he pushes them to the side and finger fucks you until your head snaps back against the wall. It’s quick, messy - leaves his forearm soaked. He’s not so sure that was real, but he’s too drunk to figure it out, too gone ask.

He tucks himself back into his pants. You set your panties back in place, skirt still hiked up to your ribs. You slip a little lower down the wall, panting. He stops you before you can slip all the way down, pats your cunt, and tugs your skirt back into place.

“Let’s get you a cab, eh?”

That’s the last thing he remembers clearly. You’d missed your Uber, had to take a cab with him anyway. He remembers you leaning against him, tucked up against his side, hand stroking his chest. He’d pet your hair - soft as lamb’s wool - and whispered nonsense against your head just to get a laugh out of you. After you get out, the whole thing’s blank.

When Butcher wakes up at 2 PM the next day, choking on his own vomit, he can't find the 50 quid. He turns his jacket inside out searching for it. A scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it falls from his jacket pocket. He doesn’t spare it more than a glance and keeps digging for his wallet.

Lambs lose their appeal after the flying cunts nearly bit his cock off.

That farm had been dirty business. Wicked stuff, the kind that doesn't wash off. This work always has been, but this time the blood doesn't come out from under his fingernails. He tastes bile every time he breathes. The copper twang of blood trickling down the back of his throat is the only chaser he gets anymore.

He doesn't think of you often. He knows it'd break your little heart to hear it, have you looking up at him with those ‘fuck me, I'm sad’ eyes and that little girl pout that makes him feel every bit the lech he is. You’re a sweet thing. Vacant, just like him. It didn’t take long to piece that together.

You’re easy and malleable, quick to fit yourself around him in whatever way he demands. He liked that about you at first.

But when he calls on you at three in the morning for a quick lay and you answer the door in a full face of make-up, hair done and wearing the sort of nightgown that no one actually sleeps in, all he feels is distaste.

You let him crowd you against your couch (a neutral color, no blanket in sight, your living room just as blank as the rest of you) without so much as a ‘hello’. You hook a leg over his hip. No panties, he realizes, eyes locked on your drippy cunt, already flushed. Been touching yourself to the thought of this. He warms a little at the thought.

Butcher wedges his knee between your leg and grinds. Any warmth you’d kindled with wet pussy dissipates the moment you moan so goddamn loud, the sound hollow and plastic. He keeps his leg still, flexes his thigh for you to grind on. His jaw tightens. He nearly shoves his fingers in your mouth to keep you from making those stupid fucking noises.

You let him twist you up however he wants, more a posable toy than a person. He pushes you further along the couch until your back arches awkwardly against the arm. You don't protest. Of course you don't.

His thick fingers trail down your slit, part your slick folds for his inspection. He sways back on his haunches, admires the pretty way he's got you arranged, pinned open on his fingers for him.

He brings his hand down sharply on pussy once, twice - and the third time directly to your clit is just because you kept making that annoying fucking noise. That nasally, porn-star whine that drills him between the eyes and makes his hard-on flag. The way you twitch and jerk at each hit might be genuine but that fucking noise drives him up a wall. Christ, there's got to be something about you that's real.

Pussy’s real. Can’t fake that, he thinks.

“Stay right there,” he says, a bite to his voice when you try to shift against him again. If you could just lay there and take it - is that so much to ask for?

He guides himself to you, hips rocking experimentally. You suck his head in and his chin dips to his chest. He groans deep. It turns to a growl when you raise your hips. He lays his forearm against you, pressing you down - and that moan might have been real.

“Can't you do fucking anything right?” He snaps. His hips push forward, bullying himself deeper into you. You suck a breath through your teeth, your hand bracing against his forearm. “I told you to stay right there.”

A spark of indignation flickers in your eyes, flash-fire flushed out by the same pitiful little lamb wool you pull back over your eyes. Makes you look all downy, plush and fuckable - he's fished more respectable shits from the toilet.

You’re a good girl for a few more shallow thrusts, lay there just like he wants while he works himself to the hilt. He finds his rhythm sloppily, one knee propped on the couch, the other foot planted on the floor. Your tits bounce with every thrust and he’s stupid enough to take his hands off of you, trust you not to move while he gropes at your breast.

Immediately you rise to your elbows, try to arch your back deeper. He’s positive you’re trying to mimic some video, down to the exact angle of your spine, but your heart isn’t in it. His cock butts against your walls, shallower than before, the pleasure that had been tearing through his blood coming to a screeching halt. He hisses through his teeth, grinding out his frustration.

“Don't –” his shoves you back down, hand flattening against your cheek and pushing your face into the couch. Feels fucking awful any other position. “–fucking move. Don't fucking move. Trying to cum. Goddammit.”

Your hands curl into fists by your head. You hide your face, press it deeper into the cushion and he presses your face deeper to help you. The noise you make is pitiful, but at least it's real.

Fucking hell. Now he’s completely out of it. You’ve gone and fucked up pussy for him. He didn’t think that was possible. He can’t find the angle he needs, can’t get back to that gummy spot that make his vision blur.

He pulls out and flips you onto your stomach, ignoring the little whine you make. You don’t raise your hips - god forbid you take a fucking hint - so he sits you up for him and wedges his dick back in. It only takes a few thrusts for him to realize this is worse. Tighter, dry, chafing his dick like goddamn sandpaper.

“Your cunt shrivel up or something? Feels fucking terrible.”

He snatches your wrist, pulls your arm back at an angle that makes you cry out, and fills your palm with lube. Can't even get wet on your own. Fucking Christ, he's got to do everything for you. Even has to curl your fingers around his cock, drag your hand back and forth until you final get the big, swinging fucking hint and jerk him off.

He meant to stuff himself back into your cunt, but at this point your hand will do. Six one way, half a dozen the other. At least your hand doesn't chafe.

You’re silent now. Small mercies. The only sounds are the slick of your palm working him over and his labored breaths. Your hand is clumsy at this angle, but he’s not going to risk letting you move and fuck it all up again.

Once he’s close, he drops your hand and flips you onto your back again. A big hand presses your knees apart, opens you up for him. You're still so pliable, even if the sheen is gone from your cunt. You try to fix your hair. If he notices the tears brimming your eyes, he doesn't say anything.

He lines himself back up with your cunt, dragging himself through your folds. Your knees knock closer with each pass of his bright red tip over your clit. He taps it once with his cock, expecting another produced moan to rattle the walls, but you only whimper, your thighs trying to close around him.

Butcher smirks. He pumps himself into you, keeps himself shallow - just the tip past your puffy lips. 

You whimper, try to shuffle down and take more of him. Butcher’s hand grips your face, squishing your cheeks so hard it stings.

“Don't you fucking move,” he grits out. You used to take instruction so well. Now you've gotten all up in your own head. Nobody likes an uppity bitch, he ought to make you see that.

What he really ought to do is make you get down there and jerk him off. Your hand is still slicked, but you'd probably piss yourself at the chance. Instead, he pushes your knees damn near up to your ears and barks for you to hold your own legs. Your hands curl around the backs of your knees. There you go. Figuring it out again.

His hand strokes his dick quick and hard, one hand dedicated to keeping himself just inside you. It doesn't take long for him to cum. It’s a slow burn that seeps up through his belly, lattices up his ribs and congeals in his chest, makes him ache and cave over your body while his hips sputter. He squeezes himself dry, pumps his cum into your pussy until it flows past his tip and seeps down onto your couch. 

Butcher lingers over you, catching his breath. He’s already gone soft, his cock dropped out of you. He sits back against the opposite arm of the couch, splays himself out while you curl up.

Something burns in his chest - remorse, maybe. You’re all curled up against your couch, cheek cushioned on your arm - won’t look at him, don’t paw at him or lean against his side, don’t even reach to clean yourself up.

His head knocks back to the ceiling. He can’t be bothered to pull answers out of you. He reaches for the tissue box on your coffee table, plucks a handful, and cleans himself off.

He tosses the box back to the coffee table and shoves his boots back on, barely taking the time to lace them up properly. He scoops he coat up from where you’d shucked it onto the floor, buttons himself back up, and you still haven’t moved. His eyes linger on you for a moment, brow set low.

Can’t be bothered, he reminds himself. He runs a hand through his hair and makes for your door, boots thunking heavily against your floors.

“Can I see you again?”

You’ve managed to pick your head up when he glances back at you. You sound so desperate it's pitiful. His lip curls. He runs a hand over his head, looks anywhere but you.

Christ, even your apartment is blank and devoid of personality. He hadn't noticed it before, too consumed with the need to get between your thighs. He shrugs, and gives you a lifeless smile.

“We'll see.”

Butcher closes your door behind him and hurries down the hall. He turns the corner to see Kessler’s cheshire grin greeting him in the dark of your stairwell.

He ought to get right with you before his time comes. He isn't proud of the way things ended. Butcher’s a right bastard, but he isn't blind; he'd seen the look on your face, the hopeful shine in your eyes dulling when he'd left you there without so much as a ‘cheers, love, thanks for the rub’.

He doesn't bother texting you. He's already posted up outside your apartment. Giving you a heads up would only give him time to pussy out.

Besides, you're home. He knows it. You’re piss-easy to track. Home to work, work to home, same route, same time. It will be easy to knock on your door, get his closure, and slip out of your life for the last time.

It should be easy. He’s had harder conversations with people who meant more to him but he keeps staring at your door, trying to will himself to knock. He’s not that weak yet. He can still raise his hand.

Butcher turns to leave just as you open the door. His shoulders tense when you call out to him.

“Billy?” You blurt out. There’s genuine surprise there.

“I just thought I’d –” He turns to catch a glimpse of you and it sends him headlong into silence.

You look a right mess. No face isn’t done up, an oversized t-shirt draping off your shoulders. Your pajama pants are fluffy, snowflake print - tackiest thing he’s seen in a while. 

You duck your head down, trying to catch his eye. 

“You okay?” You hook your thumb over your shoulder. “Want to come in?”

He doesn’t. Not even a little. He wants to rip the band-aid off, forget he ever met you and let you get on with your life - whatever it is you do. But you step to the side and fix him with a weak little smile that he thinks might be real, and his feet take him in through the door.

It’s a nice place in the daytime, he realizes. Natural sunlight, open floorplan, your shelves crowded with plants and knick-knacks he’s never seen. You offer him a drink, laugh when he says water and fall quiet when he insists.

You hand him his drink and collapse onto your couch. Your legs kick up onto your coffee table, and for the first time he realizes your socks are fuzzy, too. He looks around, scans you from head to toe. Is this the right place? He keeps picking at his nails, trying to free the grime from under them.

Once you realize he’s baffled, you’re merciful enough to start the small talk. It’s awkward and stilted - his fault, his answers halting and quick. You give him grace, sip on your drink. Your laughs never quite reach your eyes, but you scoot closer to him on the couch anyway.

“Why are you really here, Billy?” Your hand settles on his thigh and curls inward.

It’s not how he wanted this to go, but he doesn’t stop you from sliding your hand higher while he chokes on his words. You’ve got his belt undone by the time he manages to string a sentence together.

“I've been a right cunt to you.”

“Mhm.”

“You don't got to put up with it, yeah?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Got your whole life right ahead of you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Fucking Christ, could you give him more than a noise? A few moments ago you’d held a conversation with him.

His irritation is snuffed out by your lips wrapping around the tip of his cock and sucking hard. Your hand pumps his shaft, twisting your wrist on the way back up. Good God, you learn quick.

Butcher could spoil you rotten if he had the time. He could get you whatever you wanted - if ever you wanted for anything. He cups a hand over the back of your head, encouraging, not guiding.

You’re methodical. You let your hand work what your mouth won’t reach, fondle his balls with the other one. It’s clinical. You’ve committed the moves to memory, when to swirl your tongue, hollow your cheeks, when to moan around him, when to look up at him with those tears straining at your waterline.

He finishes quick, his chest heaving. You pass him his water while you reach for a tissue box. He drains it and nearly misses you spitting his cum into a tissue, wadding it up and tossing it into the bin.

“I haven’t got much time left,” he says, breathless.

Your brow creases. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, your lips swollen. “What?”

“I’ve got this –” he gestures nebulously with a hand, like he’s trying to pluck the right words out of the air. “– thing. In my brain, see? Inoperable. So, if I up and vanish on you, it ain’t personal.”

You stay silent, stone faced. He wishes you’d say something. Even one of the irritating platitudes people like to parrot would be better than this. Your eyes harden. You purse your lips, breathe deep, and stand from the couch.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, Billy. It was good to see you.”

Butcher’s still trying to catch his breath. He tucks himself back into his pants, a mess he’ll clean up later, and rises unsteadily. You don’t reach out to help. He makes another nebulous gesture towards you, his hand quivering.

“You want me to..?”

“Nah. Don’t strain yourself.”

He stuffs himself back into his coat, watching your eyes linger - maybe realizing for the first time how much slighter he’s looking. Butcher pats your cheek gently as he passes by.

You don’t ask to see him again. For your sake, he hopes this is the last time.

[freyito]

ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ + ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇꜱ

one more for today, since im in a fluff mood and i think this is a super cute idea. this one is for alllll the boys, since i got a lot of stuff requested for smoke & the lin kuei trio seems to be popular. i think every1 deserves the same love they get too mannn

cw: gn reader, kind of short, not proofread cause I got a concert :P

Liu Kang...

loves quality time. If he could, he'd spend ALL his time with you. Unfortunately, with godhood, that's not the case. But that's why quality time is so important to him. As long as he gets at least 20 minutes a day to stare at your face, talk about your day, play with your hair a bit, he's happy.

Bi-Han...

enjoys words of affirmation. He is touch starved, so his affection comes in the form of words. He loves telling just exactly what he loves about you, which is nothing short of everything. There are times where mid-conversation he'll tell you just how stunning you look that day, he can't help it.

Kuai Liang...

adores physical touch, he will always find a way to be touching you. He doesn't like PDA, so he will try to be lowkey about it, like just intertwining your pinky with his, being so close your shoulders touch, all that. But when you two are together, just the two of you, he's all over you. He's got his arm around your shoulders almost permanently.

Johnny Cage...

spoils you. He loves to give you gifts, at least once a day. Such is the life of a celebrity. It can be anything, really. His favorite, though, is having dinner with you. He'll take you to those real fancy places, and buy you whatever you want. Even if the price isn't on the menu. He also loves physical touch. He loves showing you off, he will always hold your hand in public. Only time you can free your hand from his is if it's realllyyy hot. But he always has to be touching you. Even in his sleep.

Kenshi Takahashi...

also loves physical touch. I mean, he is the blind swordsman. He specifically loves it when you guide him, with his hand on your shoulder. It makes you feel very present, especially with the complete loss of his sight. And that's something he cherishes.

Kung Lao...

is all over you. Especially since he couldn't cop until he met you, physical touch is a highlight. He especially loves hugging you, it makes his worries dissipate. Doesn't matter if it's in public, or when you two are alone, he likes knowing you're his. And he loves to show you off, especially.

Raiden...

loves acts of service. As much as your his, he's also yours. And he loves knowing what he can do for you. As long as he can reduce the load of stress for you, he's happy. He'll change your sheets the minute your out of bed, wash the dishes, anything he thinks will brighten your day.

Zeffeero...

also enjoys acts of service. It's something he can do for you and know you'll appreciate. He'll make sure the house is clean, maybe he'll draw a bath for you. And he always pays attention to every little thing you do. What your favorite (horrible) Johnny Cage movie is, the exact temperature of your bath, etc.

Tomas Vrbada...

enjoys quality time. He spends as much time as he can with you, especially outside of Lin Kuei duties. He'll take you out on dates, go dancing with you, anything to see that pretty little face of yours more often. By far, one of his favorite past-times is stargazing. He also enjoys physical touch, just being able to hold you is enough to keep him going for days. It really solidifies your relationship to him.

Baraka...

prefers words of affirmation. Not only are they something he needs to hear, but he enjoys telling you how lucky he is to have you, and he especially loves it when the words are reciprocated. He is very conscious of his disease, and so as long as he knows you love him, he's happy as can be.

Geras...

prefers acts of service & quality time. I mean, he is literally the servant of time itself. He will do everything he knows you hate doing, the dishes, changing your sheets, anything. You don't even have to ask. And he loves spending his free time with you, reading, or even just observing.

Syzoth...

loves words of affirmation & physical touch. Physical touch affirms that you love him especially, he loves when you two are just laying together, enjoy each others presence. But he will also shower you in compliments, hold your hand and rub the back of it with his thumb, tell you just how much he loves you, and pull you in for a kiss.

Havik...

enjoys quality time. As long as he gets you to himself, you can almost see his features form a smile. He loves to have you sit in his lap, just playing with your hair, while you read a book. But he also enjoys simply sleeping with you. He favors naps, and will always drag you off with him.

General Shao...

also loves physical touch. It's something that reassures you that you're his and only his. PDA is off the table, especially with his position, but when you two are alone, he's almost like a whole different man. He loves holding you in his arms and resting his head on your shoulder. And he especially loves it when you rub the back of his hands with your thumbs.

Shang Tsung...

loves giving you all sorts of prizes and gifts. He brings you some genuine things (for once), and sometimes he'll even bring you jewelry. Normally it will be silver, since he can find nothing but that within his price range, but sometimes the pieces he brings you are decorated with beautiful gems, which also happen to be genuine! He gets no greater pleasure then seeing your face light up when he gifts you something.

Reiko...

also enjoys acts of service & quality time. Getting you all to himself when things are so, so chaotic is one of the more peaceful things in life. It feeds his dream of a tranquil life, something he wishes to have with you one day. Doing the mundane, finishing up chores you hate doing, just being able to be by your side and watch you do whatever.

© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[pacifymebby]

Maybe an imagine for the Peaky Blinders where at some point they got intimate with their girlfriend in the boys’ office and while they were distracted she put her underwear in his gun cabinet. Would love to know how they react when they’re just sitting at their desk and they go to reach for it one day and just find a really sexy pair of undies in there as well😂

I have been writing this for so so so so so so so so so long I think it was one of the first requests I got back in November and I'm so sorry it's taken me this long. It's been sitting in my drafts for months. But here it is, this was actually so much fun to write and I really enjoyed it. I just needed to be in a specific mood to write it i think? I really hope you're still here on my blog anon and that u finally get to enjoy the request :'(

Tommy

🌿 Tommy is only mildly surprised to find your underwear in the draw of his desk. You're always getting up to no good, trying to push his buttons... You're a little minx really, always trying to get his attention... So this is exactly the kind of thing you might do...

🌿He knows exactly why you did it too... Since getting into politics he's had to spend more and more time away from home, always on trips to London, never at home, with you... He knows he's been neglecting you

🌿So, he sends for you, calls you into his office quite calmly. "Sit down y/n..." he says nodding to the chair opposite him.

🌿You're a little uncertain, he looks so stern and serious that you're getting more and more nervous the longer he makes you sit in silence. You're definitely in trouble, that much you can tell...

🌿But you don't know for certain that he's found your underwear until he takes them out of the drawer and drops them in front of you on the desk.

🌿"Y/N, what are these?" the way hes looking at you through his spectacles, so calm and yet stern... You squirm and stutter your response suddenly nowhere near as confident as you had felt when you left them there...

🌿"Um... Well, uh... My um... My underwear i guess?" "You guess?" "No uh... I know Tommy..."

🌿"Right, alright..." he nods and for a moment when he flashes you half a smile and lets out a little breathy laugh you think thats all the torment he's going to put you through... But of course not. This is Tommy we're talking about.

🌿"Alright y/n, and what is your underwear doing in my desk among my tax documents and memos?" "I uh..." "Come on love speak up we haven't got all day..." "Because I put them there Tommy..." You're already blushing deep red, you're embarassed and he's really enjoying making you squirm.

🌿If he's telling the truth he loves that you did it, gives him an excuse to torture you now, force you to admit how much you want him... Something which he obviously loves to hear. Watching you squirm really tuns him on...

🌿"Oh okay, alright, alright... And y/n,why did you do that?"

🌿 You're speechless now, so embarrassed, you can't believe he's really forcing you to admit it but you know he won't let you go or give you what you really want until you do as he's asking and spell it out for him.

🌿You're just not really the kind of girl that does things like this and though it might have been thrilling to do something bad and out of character, you're remembering who you really are - a good, sweet girl - and suddenly you're regretting your little trick.

🌿 "I.. I guess well, you've been so busy lately Tommy I just... I didn't want you to forget about me you know..." you trail off offering him a shy but seductive little smirk. You really want to keep playing coquette but he's really put you in your place and you're not sure now whether he's going to give you what you want or just keep torturing you.

🌿"Right..." he nods before telling you to get up, "Alright y/n now answer me this eh? Come here and answer me this..." he says quiet and intense, running his hands down your arms, taking your hands in his and pulling you down to meet his gaze. He has you bent right over his desk in the most submissive position... You can hardly breath.

🌿"Do you really think you're so easy to forget?" you can hardly speak, just shaking your head slightly, your breath caught in your throat as he tugs you down to kiss you.

🌿 He stands up, letting you go, leaving you feeling let down and if you're being honest, a little confused. You thought he wanted you? For a moment it really looked like you'd played into his lustful side...

🌿 He warns you not to play childish games with him, that in future if you want something you behave like an adult and you come and ask him for it. "Sometimes angel, when you want somet from me, you say please eh? Remember that word sweetheart..."

🌿Fucks you on his desk anyway... "Thoight you might like playing the bad girl eh angel? You want me to show you how I treat those girls?" his low murmur sends a shiver down your spine and when he sinks his teeth teasingly into your neck you can't breath.

🌿Tommy was always going to fuck you on his desk. From the second he'd felt the soft lace in his hands he'd known what he wanted to do to you.

🌿He just wanted to make you squirm first.

Alfie

🐻 He's surprised by you, other young ladies he might expect this from but not you, not his sweet little zieskiet who has the heart mind and soul of an angel. Who is usually always so well behaved...

🐻 It doesn't help that when he discovers your little memento he's in the middle of an intense meeting with Tommy Shelby.

🐻 Tommy thinks he has the upper hand, thinks he's charmed his way into Alfie's trust once again but Alfie's hand has slipped to the drawer in his desk where his fingers skim the surface of the gun he keeps concealed there...

🐻 But where he expects to find cool metal he finds soft silk and lace instead and his heart begins to race as memories of the afternoon before when he'd called you into his office flicker through his mind like a naughty film...

🐻 For the first time ever Tommy witnesses Alfie Solomons speechless. Sure the moment doesn't last long, but for a second there Tommy catches a strange look in Alfie's eyes, like he's genuinely stunned... He's probably lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he's the reason Alfie's quietly struggling to swallow a lump in his throat.

🐻 But Alfie just sweeps the underwear to one side for later, tskes the gun out and rushes Tommy through the deal, hurrying him out the door, grumpy and impatient so that he can go home to you.

🐻 When Alfie comes home that night he's playing the "everythings as it always is" act, grumbling to you about the lads in the bakery, grumbling to you about something clumsy Ollie did earlier thst day... You're listening but only a little as you shape the bread you're baking. You're don't look at him until he says something that surprises you...

🐻 "Oh, oh yeah right, right i almost forgot, yeah, silly me eh, almost forgot these..." he says producing your lacy underwear and dangling them from the tip of his finger.

🐻 When you turn around to see what he's holding you're shocked. You drop the knife thats in your hand and it clatters on the floor. You shouldn't bd surprised, you only left them there the day before, but somehow your strange out of character whim had completely left your mind.

🐻 "Oh..." you say your hand raised to your mouth... Alfie's still just holding them out, the scandalous garment just dangling between you, you blushing at the memory of your time together. Him waiting, stern expression, for you to take them from him.

🐻 "Oh..." he says watching you, wondering if you know you're in trouble or not... You've turned the most adorable shade of red and he's already struggling to hold his grumbling resolve. "Yeah," he says, "oh..." "Thats what I thought an all when I found em earlier right, I though 'oh" he holds his hand to his mouth mocking your earlier gesture... Making thst blush of yours all the worse because you can't tell if you're being teased or if he's really quite cross with you..

🐻 "An you know what yeah poppet? I showed em to Tommy fuckin Shelby yeah and you know he said 'oh' too, just like that yeah 'oh'..." now you know he's trying to make you squirm, trying to tease you. Because you know theres no way your Alfie would ever show another man something as private as your underwear.

🐻 You smile nervously, your blush and your shy giggle as you bite down to try and stifle it too much for Alfie to maintain any temper he might have been trying to build up.

🐻 Instead he steps up to you, traps you between the cupboards and his body, holding your underwear right up to your face, the lacy garment dangling right by your cheek, silk brushing your skin.

🐻 "These my little zieskiet, these yeah are a very dangerous object, and you right, you're a very good girl yeah, so you my dear, you should not be leaving these, dangerous things yeah, you should not be leaving dangerous things like this lying around right, cause you never know who's gonna find em..."

🐻 "Well that's why i left them in your drawer..." you say quietly, your biting on the tip of your thumb, looking at him so sweetly that its hard to imagine you could have done something as tempting as this.

🐻 "Yeah," he says, "yeah you did didn't you... Tell me poppet, cause theres somethin I'd quite like to know right, somethin thst interests me a great ammount... Why yeah, why would a sweet little girl like you do somethin like that?"

🐻 You would be so shy and blushy, you absolutely wouldn't know what to tell him, your voice abandoning you as you look back at him with doe eyes, biting on the tip of your thumb. When you try to look away he takes your chin in his hand and steers your view back to him.

🐻"Remember my dear little zieskiet, we don't keep secrets me an you? Nah, we don't have no secrets..."

🐻 He knows what you want and he's definitely just teasing you because his favourite thing in the whole world is to watch how you melt like butter for him. How you'll tell him anything he asks, do anything he asks, all he has to do is stroke your cheek and look you in the eyes.

🐻 Honestly he thought he was cross with you for distracting him at a crucial moment but now he's face to face with you, now he's got one hand on your waist the other holding your neck delicately, all he wants to do is reward you for your bad behaviour...

🐻 "Think you'd better pop yourself down over papa's lap..." you think he's going to spank you but when your eyes go wide he just chuckles, tells you not to look so worried...

🐻 Fingers you within an inch of your life whilst you're laid across his lap and then makes you promise him that next time you want his attention you'll just ask.

🐻 "Oh an poppet, promise me yeah, promise me you'll give me a little warning next time you try to play a trick like that... Don't like surprises me..." He's practically telling you to do it again.

🐻 when hes finished with you he'll give you your underwear back and then watch you put it back on in front of him. You want to hate his triumphant little smirk but you're still shaking from your high and when you've done as he asked he welcomes you back into his arms for a cuddle and tells you (almost) all about how your little trick nearly interrupted a crucial business meeting.

Arthur

🍂 He had been about to kill a man. That he was sure of. Seething with rage, red in the face with a hatred burning in him, that infamous formidable temper hazing his mind, taking over so that in 30 seconds time he wouldn't be Arthur Shelby anymore. He'd be the animal he fought with every day.

🍂 He'd stormed through the house on Watery Lane to the cabinet he kept his guns but when he'd thrown the doors open, practically frothing at the mouth, eyes narrowed and searching only for a weapon with which to destroy the man in question... When he threw open those doors he found a pair of your silky panties artfully wrapped around the barrel of his firearm.

🍂 Suddenly the man in question was the last thing on his mind. His temper wasn't quelled, all that anger and adrenaline was still buzzing around inside his body... He needed an outlet, something or someone to take it out on, lay into... But he couldn't think of anyone else in that moment. Not now he'd seen your underwear. Not now he'd been graced by a flash of memory, your naked body spread beneath him, your eyes rolled back in ecstacy as he'd fucked you the night before...

🍂 So his attention was diverted and a man's life has inadvertantly been saved because now rather than vengeance Arthur is only hungry for you...

🍂 He spends a little time hunting you down, searching around the house and then around the town looking in all your usual haunts. However he finds you exactly where he wants you. Sitting in his chair at his desk in the office down the factory.

🍂 "You," he says when he sees you, his eyes narrowed on you as he takes in the sight of you. How pretty you are, how innocent you're trying to look. It drives him wild and he can barely control his breathing as he locks the door shut behind him and pulls down the blind, "fuckin stand up when I'm talkin to you sweetheart..." He growls snatching at your wrist, pulling you to your feet.

🍂 he's rough with you but honestly that's what you wanted... Arthur's always trying to be on his best behaviour around you and the idea of sparking his temper, of having him be a little rougher with you.. it excites you more than you want to admit.

🍂 he pushed you back against his desk until you're perched just on the edge and when he steps between your legs, your feet hovering just above his shoes, he takes his revolver out and points it at you. You're nervous, your breath catching in your throat as you look up at him with wide, not quite timid eyes. You're starting to wonder if you've bitten off more than you can chew.

🍂 he uses his gun to push your dress slowly up your thigh, you can't take your eyes off it, the cool metal on your skin shivering you, causing goosebumps to ripple over your arms.

🍂 "You are in so much trouble..." He growls, "you don't wanna know how much fuckin trouble you're in y/n... No you don't..."

🍂 "Fuckin look at me eh love, when I'm talkin to you you fuckin look at me..." You're so nervous and the way his voice comes out gravelly and thick with adrenaline, the way you can hear his rage in every word makes you scared you might have gone too far, that you really are in as much trouble as he says you are...

🍂 he uses the barrel of his gun to push your chin up holding it there digging into you to force you to look him in the eyes when he's talking to you. You're trembling with nerves and sexual desire and he can see both your fear and your lust right there on your face. "Not so innocent now are you darlin..." He growls as he rubs his rough hands up over your thighs pushing your dress right up to reveal you...underwearless, legs spread, the sheen of your arousal catching his eye.

🍂 he can't get his belt undone quick enough but when he's dropped his trousers around his ankles he grabs you almost violently pulling you towards the edge of the desk, entering you suddenly, the shock displaced with pleasure almost immediately as he growls into your ear and starts thrusting in and out of you quickly.

🍂 his movements are sharp and desperate and he's fucking you in a way he's never fucked you before. It's divine, exactly what you'd hoped for.

🍂 "y'see sunshine a man was gonna die tonight right, I was on my way to fuckin kill him when I found your little fuckin surprise..." He growls as he's fucking you, you're so dizzy with pleasure that all you can do is moan in response clutching at his hair for your dear life. Your legs squeezing his waist so tightly as you shake and he manoeuvres you on his cock.

🍂 "Fuck," he groans, "I was gonna fuckin kill him and these fuckin things were the only thing that stopped him yeah so I reckon that must make you some kind of fuckin angel... Doin god's work eh? What kind of angel goes round saving lives with her cunt eh?"

John

🌼 Would be absolutely delighted. All his Christmases have come at once and he can't keep the grin off his face... can't and doesn't want to be subtle even if there's someone else in the office with him.

🌼 In fact if there is someone else in the office with them he'll definitely flaunt the fact that his girlfriend's 'forgotten' her underwear. He's so childish'y smug about it and he can't wait to get home to you.

🌼 He'd have them hung from his finger, slung over his shoulder as he leaves the office early, waving them in explanation when Isaiah shouts after him asking where he's going. Then as the office door swings shut behind him he'd tuck them into his pocket for safekeeping, whistling as he walks home.

🌼 You have put him in such a good mood, theres a real spring in his step and his mind is buzzing with all the thoughts of what he'll do when he gets home to you.

🌼 he'll come in having decided he's going to tease you, play a little trick on you. He'll call through the house for you with a real urgent tone to his voice as if something is seriously the matter...

🌼 and when he finds you sitting in the nursery with one of your friends and the children he'll put on this grave expression, apologise to your friend and send them away.

🌼 "I'm really sorry sweetheart but this can't wait and I need y/n," "God what's the matter John, the family? Is everything okay?" You'd be so worried asking him all sorts of questions but he wouldn't give you an answer until your friend has hurried out the door and you've put the little one in their crib.

🌼 then he'd turn to you, still with those serious, worrisome eyes, he'd place both hands on your cheeks and hold you carefully, looking as if he were about to break the worst news... "I'm sorry for ruining your day flower, if it could have waited you know I would have waited..."

🌼 you're almost panicking now getting more and more anxious by the second, "John what is it just tell me what's happened!" You beg and just like that he relaxes, grin spread across his face as he shrugs.

🌼 "Oh nothing major, don't fret flower... You just forgot these is all..." He says with a cheeky grin as he takes the underwear from his pocket and dangles them in front of your face by the tip of his fingers. He looks so unbelievably proud of himself you could honestly slap him.

🌼 if he wasn't so attractive you would definitely slap him... Instead you just stare back at him in disbelief, you try to get annoyed with him, "For fuck sake John you scared me!" You exclaim but you can't finish the sentence without letting out a little giggle.

🌼 "So..." He says lowering his voice, getting closer to you, his hand on your hip pulling your body in close to his, "if you left your underwear in my office this morning..." He starts, his breath warm on your cheek as he leans in to whisper in your ear, "what're you wearin under this dress?" "Why don't you take it off me and find out..."

🌼 So then he realises you definitely didn't just forget your underwear. The naive 'ad had kind of thought it a mistake, hadn't really thought you capable of playing such a wicked little trick but now he's realised your games, how you're more trickst than he'd first imagined he's actually very proud of the fact.

🌼 he'd pick you up, your legs wrapping around his waist and carry you to the bedroom, throwing you down on the bed where he'd crawl above you, looking down at you full of pride and mischief.

🌼 "So you were playin tricks with me were you flower?" He'd ask, his tone making you squirm and giggle, making you feel teenage and playful and like you might be in the best kind of trouble. You'd try to wriggle away from him, he's got that look in his eyes like he's about to either tickle you to death or fuck you hard and you can't tell which...

🌼 "hang on a minute flower where dya think you're going?" He chuckles stopping you going anywhere with just his hand on your shoulder pushing you into the mattress.

🌼 uses your underwear to tie your hands behind your back so you can't escape him. Then fucks you until you're exhausted, your hips aching from having your legs spread for so long... But you've come so many times you have that warm, all over tingle and when you finally collapse into eachothers arms you can't wipe the smiles off your faces.

🌼 it's going to start some kind of game between you, the two of you trying to outdo one another with mischievous little acts. But John always loves it whenever you leave something intimate of yours in his office and now you know you'll be rewarded for it you do it more often.

Bonnie

🍀 You'd been in his dressing room with him before his big fight, wishing him good luck. You always worry about him before he goes into the ring but you're also really proud of him, and there's something about being alone with him in the changing rooms before he goes out that really turns you on.

🍀 You run your hands over his chest, taking in the sight of him unscathed for the last time, and try to contain your desire. You find him so attractive when he's in the ring and you always let him know. It boost his ego and makes him walk out there twice as cocky.

🍀When you kiss him goodbye you give him a real, deep snog, one hand in his hair, the other hanging your lace black underwear from the gym peg behind your boys head. You want him to have a surprise for when he returns later triumphant.

🍀 He doesnt notice them when he's leaving for the ring, too in the zone, focussing and firing himself up - and your kiss certainly helped fire him up.

🍀All through the fight you're cheering him on just as you always would and Bonnie feels absolutely champion even when he's on the recieving end of a few nasty blows. He knows his little dove is in the crowd watching him and that makes him fight twice as hard because he loves showing off to you.

🍀 When Bonnie wins the fight you're delighted, you jump out of your seat and scream triumphantly for him. Blowing him a kiss when he looks over to you, his bloody grin far more attractive than it should be.

🍀 When he returns to the changing room victorious he's greeted by the Peaky Blinders and his dad, all of them congratulating him. Tommy is very impressed with his work and wants to discuss the next match with him but when something catches Bonnie's eye he follows the younger lads gaze and smirks, rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

🍀Because Bonnie is blushing a deep shade of red. The poor boy is so surprised he's speechless and Tommy can tell Bonnie hasn't heard a word of what's been said since he clocked your underwear hanging from that peg by the benches.

🍀"Alright lads c'mon lets leave our champion to cool off eh, looks to me like he's expecting company..." Tommy is still smirking and his overly casual tone as he draws everyone's attention to the underwear in question makes poor Bonnie even more embarrassed and awkward.

🍀There's a lump in his throat he's struggling to swallow down and all he can think about is you. He manages to stammer out a goodbye, promises to meet them in an hour down the garrison but Arthur laughs and shakes his head, "Nah you won't," he grins, "nah you fucking won't!"

🍀And Arthur's right, the only thing Bonnie will be doing in an hour's time is well, you.

🍀He is so turned on by your little trick that when he sees you he can barely contain his desire for you. He's usually pretty bad after a fight, all that adrenaline coursing through his veins but today he's even more fired up than usual and when you slip into his changing rooms and find him alone, he's got his hands on you in seconds.

🍀he does not want to wait for you to clean him up like you usually do and when you take a warm cloth and begin dabbing at his bloody lip and the cut on his brow he wraps his arms around you and pulls you down into his lap, grinning and teasing you, kissing your cheek and nuzzling into you, making it very difficult for you to do your job.

🍀You giggle trying to brush him off, though secretly really enjoying seeing how desperate for you he is.

🍀"Bonnie sit still, you're making this really difficult," you smile trying to dab at his brow, missing because he's ducked his head to kiss your neck and has already begun to undo the laces that hold your dress together at the back. His nimble fingers are making quick work of loosening them and you know you need to clean him up quickly because the second he's slipped your sleeves from your shoulders you're doomed.

🍀And in the end Bonnie wins and you're forced to accept that you'll just have to wait to clean him up later. He's got other plans for you just now.

🍀Will hold you down in his lap, a really energetic needy fuck before lifting you up and fucking your roughly against the wall. Even though he's going hard he still manages to be careful with you, making sure to hold your head in his hand to stop you bashing it against the wall etc...

🍀He doesn't tire quickly and honestly, your little surprise has given him more of a rush than winning that fight.

🍀Neither of you make it to the Garrison for those drinks and poor bonnie winds up on the recieving end of a lot of ribbing from the other lads. Whenever they bring it up he blushes and gets embarrassed but no matter how many times they ask he never shares the details of what happened after they left.

Isaiah

🐀 Is quietly impressed by your devious little game. He sees them in the drawer strewn artfully over his revolver and he smirks, closing the drawer shut again as if he hasn't even seen them.

🐀 He's biding his time see, playing the long game, dragging the desire out for as long as he can. He wants to wait long enough that you will have forgotten all about it. Or at least until you've come to the disappointing conclusion that he found your little surprise and didn't care about it, wasn't even remotely bothered by it...

🐀 And when weeks go by without him so much as mentioning them, without him even hinting at having found the little gift you left for him that's the conclusion that you come to. That he wasn't bothered, that he thought it was embarrassing and childish, that he doesn't even want to mention it because he thought it was classless and foolish and he'd rather forget all about it.

🐀 Meanwhile Isaiah is enjoying having your underwear in his drawer at work, whenever he has to reach in his drawer for his revolver he feels the black lacy pants there too and smirks. He can't wait to remind you about your naughty little trick... When he's bored at work he opens the drawer to look at them and imagine what he's going to do with you when he finally makes his move.

🐀 And then just as you've vowed you'll never make a stupid mistake like that again, just when you've decided never to behave so foolishly again... He'll have a surprise for you all of his own...

🐀 One night when it's just the two of you, in his room, fucking he catches you out.

🐀 He's on top, his cock deep inside you and your eyes are closed, your lips parted as he fucks you hard, you're right on the edge, your body shivering beneath him, your hands clutching at the sheets as you roll over into an orgasm.

🐀 And then when you moan he shoves your underwear into your open mouth and shocks you with them.

🐀 Your eyes open wide in shock uncertain what he's just put in your mouth and when he leans down, his nose brushing yours, his eyes lit up with mischief, clearly very pleased with himself, and grins down at you, "you lose these?" You feel your cheeks flush crimson. But you can't hide or look away because he's got you pinned down and he's still fucking you, his hands either side of your head, arms rippling.

🐀 All you can do is look up at him, and because you can't shy away, because you're forced to face up to the moment you're forced to acknowledge how much it turns you on... So your only response when he talks to you is your needy moans.

🐀 "Whats the matter mousy, did you think I'd just thrown them out?"

🐀 he will tease you about it relentlessly, loves trying to embarrass you, likes watching you go bright red. But in reality he loves this naughty side of you and he wants to encourage it, so when you threaten him one day, "if you keep teasing me I shan't do it again," he backtracks very fast.

Michael

☘️ In New York, you're his other woman and you're jealous. Hes been spending far too much time with Gina lately, sure you know they're the real deal, you're just his honey on the side but still... You should still get a taste of your man every once in awhile.

☘️ So you slip them between a stack of invoices and stock reports and send them up to his office. You may or may not be aware that his Gina is up there with him. That he's all snowed up, and she's going to be the one who takes the invoices and starts to filter through them...

☘️She's probably the one who phones up for you... Michael doesn't even realise whats going on until Gina has welcomed you into the office, studying you, asessing how much of a threat to her relationship you really are...

☘️ But when Michael sees you he panics, swallows a lump in his throat and scrambles to sit up and start paying attention..

☘️ "Whats this about love?" he says to Gina, "whats y/n doing here?" "Oh so you do know her name... Congratulations honey I guess you're more than just one of his whores huh?"

☘️ you feel a little bit like you've walked into a trap, like you've made a bed you're not actually capable of lying in, you're hardly even paying Michael any attention now, it's Gina who's your main concern. She invited you up here... What does she want with you? She certainly isn't looking at you like she's looking for a fight...

☘️ She's watching you expectantly, waiting for either you or Michael to speak up. Then she takes your underwear and tosses them to Michael who is so surprised by them that he drops them.

☘️ "What do you think honey, you think he remembers who they belong to? Tell us Michael baby, are they mine or are they hers..."

☘️ Michael would he totally speechless, he's looking between the two of you, thinking that this is some conspiracy against him but you're just as stunned as he is and you kind of feel like turning and running out of the door.

☘️ but when you make your excuses to leave and try to back out of the door, thinking it best to leave them to their inevitable fight Michael calls after you... "Y/N wait..." which makes Gina laugh.

☘️ "Yeah honey don't go," she says licking her lips wickedly, "the funs only just getting started..." She says teasingly, her eyes glowing with lust... But who for you can't tell anymore?

☘️ When she catches your hand in hers and tugs you back into the office your breath catches in your throat. But what she whispers in your ear leaves you speechless, your heart racing.

☘️ "C'mon y/n kiss me, let's see what he does next hmm?"

☘️ It would be an evening you will never forget.. Gina was only really dragging you into it so that she could get your measure, wanting to work out exactly how much of a threat you were... Wanting to use you to torment Michael. If he's fucking you then she wants to he too, he can't possibly be allowed to have something she hasn't got.

☘️And although Michael is quietly livid with you in the moment he can't control his own lust, his anger taken out on you when he lies you down on his desk and fucks you hard, your head between Gina's legs whilst she rides your mouth and smokes a cigarette casual as you like.

☘️ after that whenever you or Gina feel like a bit of fun you send your underwear up and down to one another slipped between memos. The three of you spend a lot of time in that office snowed up and fucking.

☘️ and although Michaels more than happy with the new arrangement he still makes sure to get you alone so that he can punish you for being so reckless.

☘️ he will bend you over his lap and spank you making you apologise with tears in your eyes as you promise never to be so careless again.

☘️ You will however be that careless again and he'll be more than happy with the consequences.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.

I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?

Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.

There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).

Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.

It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?

Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.

But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.

It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.

And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.

I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.

[sungbeam]

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — part one

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

messing around with demonic rituals isn't exactly how you imagined getting bound to changmin's soul. (note to self: salt circles don't work when you draw the pentagram inside it...)

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, technically a college au, demon au (it's different from night terrors i swear. also it's not as intense lol), comedy, suspense/mystery, swearing (a lot... sorry 😭), drinking, low fantasy/supernatural elements, mentions of chronic illness, mentions of rituals and pentagrams, self induced soulmates? 🤔 but ofc 😂, kissing, mentions of blood, very small amount of violence (like one scene), what is a mfking slow burn like who needs to take their time w falling in love i sure don't 🤷🏻‍♂️, one allusion to death

▷ part word count. 16.3k out of 34.8k / read part two here

▷ inspired by. incantations (composed by richard meyer) it's not like,,, the fic's "soundtrack" or anything. i just think it sounds cool lol

this is my submission for deoboyznet's boyz who bite event! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

a/n: i'm telling u that i resisted the idea of another demon changmin au for ONE WHOLE MONTH. i went through THREE OTHER IDEAS BEFORE FALLING BACK ON THIS DRAFT. I SWEAR. so pls reblog + comment + enjoy! :') and thank u to @justalildumpling as usual for reading this for me 😭💖

PART I: THE CATALYST

THERE WERE WORSE WAYS TO GO OUT, you supposed. However, the paranormal wasn't often a subject you frequented, so sitting atop an ashy-white pentagram wasn't exactly how you expected to be spending a Friday night.

“Changmin, you're always hooting about this shit,” Juyeon said as he peered over his shoulder at the boy lurking in the far corner of the living room. “Are you seriously all bark and no bite?”

No one really paid attention to Changmin's response besides you and Juyeon (kind of—he was busy lighting the candles). Technically, it was a new behavior; Changmin was usually the one obsessed with horror movies and the paranormal, constantly getting you all to participate in Halloween horror nights and haunted houses, and bringing his beloved (cursed) Chucky doll to any and every group movie night. But now that you were finally acting on his demonic big talk, all of that stuff and nonsense dissipated like the snuffing out of a candle.

A shadow fell across his face. “I already warned you guys. This isn't something you should be toying around with.”

“It's a Ouija board—what could go wrong?” Shuhua wrinkled her nose as she began tapping out a circle of salt around your body and the pentagram on the floor. “I saw them on sale at Toys R Us for half off.”

Because you were the last one to arrive tonight, you were chosen as the sacrifice. It wasn't really fair because this was literally Juyeon and Changmin's apartment, but it didn't matter much in the end. You didn't believe in this stuff and it wasn't your salt being wasted. (You were also exempt from venmoing Hyunjae a portion of the paycheck he spent buying candles and chalk. Save fifteen bucks and sit on a pentagram in a salt circle? Why the fuck not.)

“Don't we need to draw blood or something?” you asked, half joking.

“No.” Changmin's expression somehow grew even darker. Your eyes widened slightly; you'd never seen him so serious. “Absolutely not. Do you want this to turn out worse?”

“Changmin, dude, you gotta chill, man.” Hyunjae dumped the Ouija board he'd dug out of his parents’ attic onto the floor next to you, just outside the salt circle.

Shuahua squawked. “Oy! You're ruining my perfect circle!”

“Just redo it, dumbass!”

“You redo it, asshat,” she growled back, tapping out some salt to finish it.

Juyeon, as if to placate your friend, said to Changmin, “The salt will protect her.”

You blinked. “Oh, that's what it's for?” You could've sworn that was what the candles were for, but again, you didn't believe in this, so why would you know a thing about it?

Changmin's face hit the palms of his hands with a resounding slap. “Absolutely not. You can't have Yn in the circle if she doesn't even know what the Hell is going on.”

“So do you wanna be in the circle?”

His left eye seemed to twitch as he cocked his head to the side. Something about that movement made a shiver crawl down your spine. The sensation was akin to watching a predator consider its prey from the brush… but that wasn't right. Changmin was all dimpled smiles and goofy shenanigans and twinning with his horror doll child. There wasn't anything remotely scary about him, unless you made him mad (you hadn't yet). So why were your inner alarms screaming for you to run? “That's actually not a bad idea—”

“Okay!” Hyunjae called his hands together. “Let's get started, shall we?”

The thoughts were brushed beneath the dusty rug in your head. You shrugged at Changmin. “Too late, I guess.”

You thought you heard him mutter out something under his breath in frustration, but you didn't understand the language.

All of your other friends began to gather on the side of the circle where the Ouija board was. You weren't even sure what all the pomp and circumstance was for, but Changmin didn't seem up to correct anything. He continued to sulk in the corner with his arms folded over his chest, eyes shaded by the brim of his cap as he stared onward.

Hyunjae's eyes fluttered closed as he, Juyeon, and Shuhua placed their fingers upon the planchette. “To the spirits who may be here in this room with us—”

“And demons,” Shuhua murmured.

A choked sound came from Changmin's side of the room.

Your eyes flickered open and saw him rub a hand down his face as if he was stressed.

“We are opening the veil between your world and ours,” Hyunjae continued. “My name is Hyunjae, and with me are Shuhua, Yn, Juyeon, and Changmin.”

Shuhua inhaled shallowly. “Is there someone here with us?”

The apartment was consumed in a dead silence as the five of you waited. You sat cross-legged in your ring of salt, cheek resting against your fist. Your eyes were drifting to half-mast—it’d been a long day for you, and considering it was approaching midnight already, it was about time you went to bed.

“We brought you a sacrifice,” Hyunjae said. “We were wondering if you could tell us your name.”

A chilling breeze brushed past your cheeks and you glanced up, expecting the air conditioning to have caused it. There was no vent above you, however. Strange.

You wrung your hands in your lap. “You could possess me if you'd like.”

Your eyes joined your friends’ as you all pinned your gazes to the Ouija board. The planchette remained still.

After a beat, your patience ran thin, and you sat up to lean back on your hands—wasn't something supposed to happen?

The amber glow from the candles in the living room wavered violently. In your surprise, your fingers grated against the salt and hardwood as you nearly fell backward. You yanked your hand back to you at the sting.

The bodies in the room went taut, speechless.

A gust of wind—something impossible in this enclosed space—whipped past you in a wide circle. The salt circle was no more, the candle flames were snuffed.

You sat stiff as a board. For a moment, you could swear you felt some invisible, foreign weight rest upon your chest. It sank deep into you, a phantom hand reaching into your body as if to latch onto your very soul.

Ba bump ba bump ba bump, your heart drummed wildly in your chest.

Howls and gasps of delight were drowned out by the blood in your ears; they were sounds of awe from your friends. You placed your hand over your sternum in the dark to feel for that unseen force, but there was nothing.

The room flooded with warm light. It chased away the shadows to the furthest corners.

You glanced up and saw Juyeon at the light switch with a boyish grin stretched across his lips. “That was crazy! Yn, how do you feel?”

Eyes darted to you.

The pentagram beneath you was smudged, the white chalk staining your pants and your hands. You managed a smile, and then a slow nod. What you felt earlier was probably nothing.

“I'm good,” you chirped. You glanced over at Changmin in the corner, his eyes still shaded by the brim of his cap, but with the muscle in his jaw clenched. Why? Why did you look at him? You couldn't fathom why survival instinct had you encoded to turn toward that which was capable of your demise. “Yeah, I'm good.”

A yawn tore through you as you stepped into your darkened apartment. Your hand fumbled for the light switch and you tucked your shoes away on the rack, before depositing your keys onto the table with a noisy clatter. The remainder of your time spent at Juyeon and Changmin's had been spent cleaning up the failed ritual, and you hit the road as soon as it was over.

Your roommates were all out for the night, so the apartment was cold and quiet as you stumbled down the hall to your bedroom. Compared to your friends, you'd left rather quickly because of a text you'd received from Lee Chan, a good friend of yours and former neighbor from childhood. His home life hadn't been the most spectacular, so you and he became fast friends during the moments after school when you hung out on your front lawn.

He'd swung by your apartment earlier to drop off banana muffins, but you hadn't been home. I'm home now! But you can totally come by in the morning instead, you texted him after setting your backpack down and peeling off your jacket.

As you sat in the dim gold illuminating from your desk lamp, the pressure in your chest returned. You could feel your heart pick up speed in your ribcage and you lifted your finger up to your mouth to suck on the dollop of blood that had welled to the surface. It was a small scratch from when the candles went out—your own clumsiness—but it was nothing a My Little Pony bandaid couldn't fix.

A featherweight sensation drifted over your arm, and you slapped your palm over it as if to catch whatever invisible insect crawled atop your skin.

There was nothing though.

You glanced over at the window to your right. The sky outside was an unpeculiar ebony riddled with the white speckles of distant stars. No breeze drifted in from outdoors and you double-checked that the window was closed.

You startled as your phone vibrated on top of your desk.

dino!!: oh it's okay! i have dance practice early in the morning, so i'd rather bother you while ur still awake haha dino!!: i'll be by in about 10ish min if that's cool? your phone: sounds good lol and tysm :’)) love mingyu's banana muffins

You smiled to yourself at the thought of those delicious pastries. Chan's friend Mingyu baked whenever he was stressed, and he usually gave out the results of his stress-bakes to friends. The first time you'd tasted his banana chip muffins was the closest you would ever get to heaven on Earth.

“I'm glad he makes you smile at least.”

Your phone clattered to the floor, your physical body leaping five feet in the air as your soul flew out of its encasing. Everything in you jolted like one, big heart palpitation, and your wide eyes took in the sight of a person standing by your window.

Ji fucking Changmin had nary an apology on his lips for scaring the everloving Hell out of you. It was as if he hadn't even moved out of his position at his apartment: the crossed arms, the tense posture, the clenched jaw.

Except, his eyebrow was cocked this time, unamused by your very valid fear.

“Oh, fuck you.” You braced your palms against your bed as you stood opposite from him. “Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you.”

“I got it the first time.”

You could have blown steam out of your ears. “What the fuck are you doing in my room, you creep?”

He raised his palms up, finally breaking pose. “I know what this looks like—”

“You know what this looks like?” You let out a scoff, throwing your arm out in wild gesticulation to match the throttle of your heartbeat. “This looks like Edward Cullen in Twilight, except this isn't a movie, you're not Robert Parkinson, and you just climbed up a five story building!”

Changmin stepped forward, and you took a very obvious step back. He exhaled, pressing his lips together. “Okay, I deserve that,” he muttered.

“No shit. I should call the cops on you, friend or not. What is the matter with you?” You had known Changmin for as long as your college career thus far. The five of you had met in the freshman dorms and stuck together like a package deal since. You were all quite close, and you'd spent more than your fair share of quality time with Changmin.

But this—nothing could warrant this behavior.

“I need to talk to you about something important.”

You enclosed your palms around your arms, defensive. “Then you call or text or use the front door. My window was locked—”

“The lock on your window should be the least of your concerns,” he huffed. There was a firmness in his voice and behind his words, and a matching gleam of desperation in his face. He pressed his fingers against your bedspread and the air seemed to still.

That phantom breeze had returned and it drifted against your arm. It came accompanied by the weight in your chest. “What,” you stammered, “do you mean?”

He glanced away then, that tension seizing his shoulders again. He scratched his jaw seemingly at odds with words. “The ritual that happened tonight… that was real.”

You paused. “You have got to be shitting me.”

“I'm not.”

“Changmin, I'm way too exhausted to deal with your pranks right now. If tonight was all an elaborate thing you guys did to get back at me for waking you up at 4AM—”

“Yn.” The tone of his voice made you stop. It made you think. You considered the graveness of his expression differently; you had never seen him so serious. It was jarring. “I am being incredibly serious. The thing that happened to you tonight? That was a summoning ritual, and you were actually put into contact with Hell.”

You remained quiet, unknowing of how to answer. All logic in your brain was countering his statements profusely—it wasn't possible. There was no way something as little as chalk, salt, and candles could open up a portal to Hell.

At your lack of response, Changmin continued, “Tonight, a line to Hell was opened. The ritual was meant to contact a demonic entity. Usually, ritualists use it to make deals and bargains with whoever answers the call. The human link—the 'sacrifice’” —he looked at you pointedly— “is one half of the signing party responsible for fulfilling whatever the bargain is.”

A shudder rattled down your spine at what he revealed to you. This had to be a joke, you thought. This could not be real. But every time you looked at Changmin, the expression on his face did not change and his voice did not waver.

You swallowed, hard. “So,” you said finally, your voice barely a whisper, “you're saying…”

A lone nod. “You made contact with a demon tonight.” He paused for a beat, something warring behind his eyes. “You made contact with me.”

What. You sputtered out a laugh.

Changmin released a small, but sharp exhale, patiently waiting for you to let your giggles out. There were undoubtedly better ways to reveal it, but any way would still evoke such a reaction from you.

“Okay, now I know you're fucking with me,” you said with the lingering curl of a smile on your face. “You're saying that you're a demon?”

He seemed to weigh an idea in his head for a millisecond before caving. He flicked his chin out toward you. “You cut yourself tonight?”

You flinched and instinctively curled your right hand, your other fingers running over the small slice in your index finger. “What?”

“Come on. Let me see.” At your balking, he lifted up his hand. “I bet you I have a matching mark.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What hand and where?”

“Right hand. Index.”

“This doesn't count because that's the most predictable hand and finger.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yn, don't be silly. I literally have the same mark.”

Slowly, he stepped his way around the bed to your side, stopping only close enough where you could inspect his hand from a distance. Lo and behold, the flesh of his index finger was neatly sliced open, slightly diagonal in the top right quadrant of the finger—exactly where yours was.

The breeze returned like a cool breath, gentle against your cheek, as you raised your eyes to meet his again. The horror in your gaze must have confirmed that he'd convinced you of who—no—what he was.

“So what does this mean exactly?” you asked him. There were no giggles this time.

Changmin sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “We are now bound via soul,” he said and extended his hand out slightly. His fingers curled inward and he gave a tugging motion level with your chest, and something deep within you moved.

Your eyes went as wide as a full moon. “What the Hell…”

“That's the line we're connected by.”

“I'm on a leash?”

Changmin glanced toward the ceiling as if mentally counting to three, then took a breath. “Not a leash; it's just a line. That's what was created between us when I became the demon on the other end and you spilled your blood on the pentagram. It doesn't mean we're restrained to stay within physical proximity of one another, but it does mean that you can't run away and hide from me.”

You shuddered. “That sounds scary.”

“It would be if you didn't fulfill your end of a bargain, but you never made a bargain.” He lifted his baseball cap up to card a hand through his blond hair before replacing the hat on his head. “Which basically means that we're stuck like this. We are emotionally and metaphysically bound to one another.”

There were a lot of words that had been said over the past few minutes, and most of them were difficult to wrap your head around. The worst truth of all was the brief, but very real sensation you had felt when Changmin had tugged on the invisible link between the two of you. That weight on your chest from earlier… had that been the “bond” settling into place?

“How could sitting on a chalk pentagram even” —you waved your hands around as you attempted to formulate words— “how was all of that possible? I thought Ouija boards were fucking toys?”

“I told you guys that you shouldn't play around with those things.”

“Well, how the Hell were we supposed to know this was going to happen?” you countered. The four of you had done some innocent fooling around, and now, you were “emotionally and metaphysically bound” to Changmin. Whatever the fuck that meant.

Changmin sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “We can undo it. I think.”

You think? “How?”

“I—I need to do some research,” he said with a grimace. “I've never heard about instances like this and I didn't think it was even possible. I thought I could just intercept the call—”

Intercept the call? You shook your head. “I need you to start from the beginning, but slowly, as if you're speaking to a five year old.”

He opened his mouth to retort, then stopped abruptly.

A change in expression flickered across his face. It was brief, almost instinctual. You swore it looked like mild irritation, but it was gone before you could be sure. “You should probably answer the door.”

“Answer the what?”

You nearly yelped at the sound of loud knocking at the apartment door. Confusion pummeled you first, then you were swearing. “Chan.” You forgot he was stopping by.

“I'll be right back,” you said, moving toward the bedroom door.

“It’s fine. I need to go looking for answers.” Changmin stopped you before you went out, and you couldn't suppress the violent shudder when the invisible line in your chest pulled taut. “And Yn? Don't do anything stupid.”

You made a face at him from over your shoulder. “I'm already soul-bound to you by accident. How much more stupid can this get?”

He threw his hand up in the air. “Just don't do anything Hyunjae or Shuhua would do. Actually, just don't tell any of them about what I just told you.”

Why not? You were about to ask when you heard Chan's voice at the door calling out to you. Another swear fell from your mouth and you rushed out into the hallway to rip the door off its hinges.

Chan startled as it opened, his eyes going wide like a deer's in the bright hallway lights. There was a loose blue hoodie hanging over his green dinosaur pajama pants. He had his phone in his hands along with a paper bag undoubtedly carrying the legendary banana muffins. “Oh, hi. Sorry, is someone here with you? I thought I heard another voice.”

You braced a hand around the doorframe. Don't tell anyone. “Ah,” you winced, the lie curling up your tongue, “I was just on a call with a friend and he wouldn't shut up. Sorry about the wait.”

“No, it's no worries,” he insisted with a classic, easygoing smile. It made the adrenaline in your veins calm somewhat. Chan had always been a good presence to be around. There was something perpetually warm about his persona that made you want to stay in his orbit. “Oh, right!” He handed you the bag. “These are all yours. Mingyu says to let him know how they taste this time around, as always.”

As you accepted the bag, your face lit up like a Hollywood billboard. “I can guarantee that they will taste as divine as always. Tell him thanks for me” —you glanced up sheepishly from the paper bag— “and also, thanks for stopping by. I wish I was home earlier so you didn't have to drive all the way back.”

You didn't realize your face had contorted into a grimace. If only you had come straight home instead of indulging your friends’ curiosity tonight. Then, you would have been here with the banana muffins and one less soul-bond to worry about; and you would have been none the wiser to the fact that one of your college friends was a demonic entity.

Hadn't Changmin mentioned that you were now emotionally and metaphysically bound? Did that mean he could feel your emotions?

The smile had long since slipped from your face, but now your hands grew cold. When you got your muffins just now, did he know—

“Yn?” You perked up at the sound of your name. Chan's hand froze midair, then retracted back to his pocket. Concern shone on his face as stark as day. “Are you okay? You look like you just forgot you have something due tonight,” he chuckled half-heartedly, but the sheen in his eyes told a different story.

“Oh.” You forced out a laugh. “I'm fine! Yeah, I was just reminded of something. Actually—uhm, I shouldn't hold you up for any longer. It's getting late.”

Chan stared at you for a moment longer, and for that seemingly infinitesimal second, you feared he could see the invisible knot tied to your ribcage. “Right,” he said suddenly while shaking his head. “You should get some sleep.”

Your hand reached for the doorknob. “Thanks for dropping by again.”

“Wait” —his palm pressed against the door to keep you from closing it— “are you sure you're okay?”

It was as if your guilt was written in plain words across your forehead: No! I just became magically handcuffed to one of my demonic friends! And I also sat in a pentagram salt circle less than two hours ago! Please help me!

You channeled all your energy into a convincing smile. “Yes, I promise I'm okay. Have a good night, Chan.”

It was enough. That easygoing beam graced your eyes once more and he took his hand back. “Okay,” he said, “good night.” He waved to you as he turned on the ball of his foot, and you waited until he turned the corner before closing the door.

Your entire body deflated as you let out a rather dramatic sigh. That sigh turned into a loud groan, which eventually escalated into a borderline scream.

Like a woman possessed (would possession have been a better outcome than this?), you slunk back into your bedroom with your treasures in your grasp. “Hey,” you muttered as you kicked the door closed, “I'm… back.”

The room was vacant. Not a trace of the blond demon could be found.

“Son of a gun.” You settled into your desk chair and pulled out one of Mingyu's stress-baked muffins. As you peeled the parchment wrapper from the muffin's bottom half, you attempted to process all that had occurred within the past two hours. Every time you rewound the events, you met the same dozen or so questions. If only Changmin were still here to answer them, but he mentioned something about going off to answer questions of his own, including ones pertaining to undoing this rather inconvenient situation you’d found yourselves in.

“He should have stopped us,” you garbled between bites of banana chip muffin.

Your chewing came to a gradual halt as you marinated on that thought. “He… should have stopped us.” Why didn't he stop the four of you? If he had stopped you and suggested a movie instead, or any other activity for that matter, you wouldn't be here and he wouldn't be stressed.

He should have stopped you since he knew what you were getting yourselves into.

You crumpled the now empty muffin wrapper in your fist. Ji Changmin had far too much to explain to you.

PART II: THE CONSEQUENCES

IF THERE WAS NO REST FOR THE WICKED, Changmin didn't want to be wicked anymore. By popular perception, he and half his heritage were “evil.” While his father was a human from this mortal plane, his mother hailed from one of the nine circles of Hell. They'd fallen in love, conceived a halfling child, and the remainder was history.

“You look like shit, Ji.”

Changmin's eye twitched as irritation needled beneath the surface of his skin. “Thanks,” he drawled, not bothering to spare Lee Chan a glance. If he had limited energy reserves, he wasn't about to spend a drop on giving Chan the time of day.

Plus, Changmin was more than aware of the thick shadows that lingered beneath his eyes like fog clinging to cobblestone. He had woken up from his ninety minute power nap, trudged into the bathroom, and faced his own gauntness in the mirror. Why the fuck did Lee Chan think it necessary to point it out?

Chan's stare lingered on him through the practice room's mirror for a moment longer until he was called away by Kwon Soonyoung. Only then, when Chan's attention was passed elsewhere, could Changmin release the breath he was holding onto.

It was one thing that Changmin couldn't shake the offputting energy he felt whenever he was near Chan; he could stomach being on the same dance team as the guy, even though they each harbored an unspoken dislike for one another; but it was another thing entirely that he and Chan were both friends with you. The two boys attempted to be civil in front of you because your comfort was more important than their pettiness, but currently, said truce was nowhere in sight just as you were.

Simply, there were less reasons for him to be amiable today, including his thinning patience. Last night’s debacle had drained him of his energy. He was a halfling, not a pure-blooded demon. Additionally, his mother wasn’t a high-ranking demon by any means, which basically screwed him in the area of power stores. He had magical capabilities, but it could only handle so much. Answering ritual calls and creating soul bonds required a decent amount of power, which was why they were usually only answered by the more powerful demonheads of Hell. They enjoyed making human suffering a pastime.

Tacking onto that Changmin’s brilliant idea of warping into and out of your room last night instead of using his own two feet, as well as spending hours digging through the occultish corners of the internet, added all together to make for one exhausted, stressed, and grumpy halfling.

A presence—this one being far more welcome than the previous one—appeared by Changmin’s side in the mirror. “You really need to start going to bed when you say you're going to bed,” Juyeon said as plopped down onto the laminated hardwood to stretch out his calf muscles.

Changmin followed his lead onto the floor, but opted to slide into a left split. “I was tossing and turning the whole night,” he dismissed with an innocent lie. (Well, “innocent” was subjective.)

“You should try this new matcha that Hyunjae got from his hyung. He brought it back from his recent trip from Japan.”

For a second, Changmin let the words feed into his head one by one: matcha… from Hyunjae… from Hyunjae's brother… which one was he? Oh, the one who just got back from Japan, Sangyeon. When his tired brain finally caught up, he gave a nod. “What about it?” he asked, raising himself up to switch his hips into the right split.

Juyeon looked on with envious admiration, even if this was the thousandth time he stretched with Changmin. “It’s really refreshing and has a bit of a caffeine kick, but it's not as awful as coffee. Indigo likes it, too—said something about it being one of those rare finds that you can only get in the secluded countryside or something.”

Changmin paused. Juyeon's girlfriend Indigo was someone Changmin got along with well, but that wasn't why he was slightly interested in the matcha now. What Juyeon wasn't aware of was Indigo's witch heritage. Just as Changmin was hiding in plain sight, so too was Indigo. And if she recommended some countryside matcha powder, he was going to be inclined to try some.

“Yeah,” he coughed, “sure. Sounds like it wouldn't hurt to try.”

Pleased with the outcome of the conversation, Juyeon smiled and nodded. “I'll get you some later today then. Hopefully it'll help with the weird headaches you've been having, too.”

Changmin had nearly forgotten about those with everything that had happened. He'd recently been struck by random headaches; there were no patterns to their appearance, and no remedy—human, at least—that could soothe them until they faded on their own. He'd failed to ask Indigo about it because, well, he didn't think it was important enough to act on. But if this tea could help him out, then it would be taking out two birds with one stone.

Practice went on swimmingly. Though Changmin could only boast about his ninety minutes of sleep, when it came to dance, it was as if he was possessed. This was a hobby—a passion—that never failed to drive a fire through his veins. It didn't matter if he'd had the worst week in the history of worst weeks; when the music started, he was cued in, and he gave it his all.

As a river of sweat poured down his face and the room suffocated with the humidity of everybody's labored breathing, practice came to an end. Changmin hiked his duffle bag over his shoulder and poured water down his throat. Juyeon wasn't far behind as the two of them waved goodbye to their teammates and headed out.

Saturday mornings usually occurred in similar fashions: dance practice was held from 7AM to 10AM, then Changmin and Juyeon would return to their apartment to wash up; Changmin would then eat about an elephant's worth of food while he caught up on lecture recordings—unless he had something else to distract him.

In the case of this Saturday, as soon as Changmin had finished showering, he plummeted face-first into his pillows and was out like a light.

Demons could dream, one must understand. However, the demonic body tended only to dream when it was well spent—exhausted. Demons liked to correlate a weakness with having dreams, because foolish visions meant that one was unable to control their own mind. Control was rather important when dealing with magic.

Even if the dream was about, say, something real and occurring right at the moment Changmin was asleep—it was still considered a dream. Because he had not yet learned to leash his mind from meandering down his fresh soul bond, he found himself in a body that was not his own.

Yours. It was your body.

Was this real, he wondered, as he soaked in the familiar sight of your bed, the desk, and the closet space. He'd been in here just last night—albeit, in a fashion that wasn't agreeable—and he didn't expect it to change, but it did look real.

It was like he was actually sitting in your room, except he wasn't able to move or control his own body. The heart that beat in his chest was yours, the blood that pumped in his ears was yours, and the breath that fell from his mouth was yours.

He inwardly sighed as you adjusted your position at your desk chair. What a predicament he found himself in. He could feel the ache in your back from the uncomfortable piece of furniture beneath you, as well as the knots in your shoulders. (Did that mean you had a bad night of sleep?)

Though, it wasn't all bad, he supposed. He did adore the smell of your perfume lingering in the air and clinging to the sheets, the walls, the furniture… You would never know this of course, if he could help it.

You were currently reading a book—for class or for enjoyment, he hadn't the foggiest. The left side of the novel you clutched in your hand was riddled with colored sticky tabs, and you had the back of a ballpoint pen pressed between your lips. (His lips? …No, this was a precarious line of thinking.)

Changmin followed along as you read. Well, he tried. Whoever designed the layout of this book must have had perfect vision and no sympathy for someone visually challenged. The font size was likely less than ten point, and good grief, the line spacing—

“Holy shit.”

He paused. Right, that was you and not him.

You leaned forward and brought the book closer to your face as you read over the line again.

“Oh my gosh, Eliot, you incredible, talented woman.” This earnest compliment was swiftly followed by a colored tab to mark the passage. Changmin was about to read what you tabbed, but your eyes went down to the desk to scrawl a thought onto a post-it note. “Dorothea, you poor, poor soul. Casaubon needs to get the fuck over himself—you are fifty, dude.”

Changmin, frankly, had no clue what was happening. But he didn't entirely mind, because the pure joy that fluttered in your (his) chest was enough to keep him satisfied. There was something oddly serene about being in your sphere of presence, and in this state of being, that kept him at ease.

The stress of breaking this soul bond ebbed away like the receding edge of a tide.

Alas, all good things had to come to an end. Changmin couldn't tell how much time passed before you bookmarked your place with an index card and pulled your phone toward you.

12:04PM was what your lockscreen read.

Oh, so he was definitely catching up on sleep, at least.

Wait—had you not eaten lunch yet? The unmistakable void in the pit of your stomach…

Yn! Eat lunch, you silly girl! Eat—

“He could just be away from his phone,” you muttered to yourself. There were a few app notifications waiting for you, but each dismissal was fueled with mild disappointment.

Who were you talking about, he wondered.

A flash of bitter annoyance pierced his chest at the memory of who you'd been texting last night with that big smile on your face. However, any of that sentiment was dashed clean away when you pulled up your text chain with him, not Lee Chan.

Changmin's heart sped to a gallop as he watched you swipe out just as quickly as you'd checked in. The reason was two-pronged: one, you were wondering about him; and two, you had texted him while he was currently asleep and he did not know how to wake himself up.

Ji Changmin, he chastised himself, you're not only intruding, you're also inadvertently ignoring her.

He could understand that he put you (and abandoned you) in a worrisome place last night. If he could tear out the strands of his fried, blond hair he would.

You were his friend, were you not? He cared about you, and this soul bond wasn't only stressful to him, but to you as well. Maybe ignorance really would have been bliss in this case.

Your phone emitted a low vibration as it rang. Changmin had missed the moment you decided to call someone. Juyeon's contact name and photo was displayed in the middle of the screen, and he answered before the call went to voicemail. “Yn, what's up? You're—you’re not mad about last night, are you?” The wince in Juyeon’s voice was audible.

“No, I'm not mad,” you promised him as you leaned your cheek against your palm. “I was just wondering if you know where Changmin is. I texted him an hour ago and he hasn't answered yet—I guess I'm just a little antsy.”

Shuffling, then, “Oh! Changminnie's sleeping. He didn't sleep well last night, so as soon as we came home from practice, he was knocked out.”

Relief made your shoulders sag. “Ah, okay.” A smile, self-deprecating in nature, curled up on your mouth. “No worries then. Thanks, Juyo.”

“No problem. I'll let him know to call you once he wakes up.”

“No, it's okay” —you began putting your materials away— “have you had lunch yet? I can swing by with food; I haven't eaten yet.”

“Really? I haven't eaten yet, and Changmin hasn't either. I'll split the cost with you.” Changmin wished he could say that he would also split the cost. Why were you coming over? He hadn't gotten a good look at the texts you sent before.

(It had to be because you wanted to see him, right? To talk—of course to talk and not for any other reason.)

You stood up from your chair and stretched out the stiff muscles in your back. “I'll be by in—maybe twenty or thirty minutes?”

“Sounds great!” Juyeon chirped. “Thanks Yn-ie. See you in a bit.”

You let out a small laugh. “Yeah, see you.”

As the call cut off, Changmin was left with a daunting task: to wake himself up. There didn't seem to be many options as to do this. If demonic dreaming was activated based on lack of control, that meant he had a lack of energy. Thus, if he couldn't yet regain control, it could only mean that he was still tired.

There were a great many things that he had yet to figure out about this kind of magic. It wasn't like his mother ever anticipated he would need to know about it, so she never explicitly taught it and he never asked.

He was kicking himself in the head now.

Meanwhile, you had busied yourself with getting ready to leave. You'd selected a jacket from your closet, swiped on a thin layer of lip gloss, and spritzed yourself with that divine-smelling perfume. It made his toes curl and his chest feel fuzzy.

Just as you were filling your purse, your phone jolted with an incoming call.

Changmin soured as he saw the caller ID through your eyes and felt, not disdain, but pleasant surprise. He couldn't fathom what you saw in Lee Chan, but he never said anything; you and Chan knew each other longer, after all. It wasn't his place to say anything, especially when his reason revolved around something as subjective as a “vibe.”

“Hi Chan,” you greeted when you accepted the call.

It was funny—a dull, but annoyingly familiar pulsing appeared in Changmin's head. It beat steady against his cranium, hard and relentless. The longer it continued, the more it hurt. Could you feel it, too? The sensation was recognizable at this point after so many instances of the random headaches popping up. Was he seriously getting another stupid headache during a dream?

He winced to himself, but suddenly felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach when he heard you audibly grimace.

Was this headache yours or his? Should he be worried?

“What was that? Are you okay?” asked Chan from the other side.

Changmin/You clenched your jaw as your vision went spotty for a moment. Your hand whipped out to catch yourself against the table.

Panic seized his chest as you muttered out a reassurance, though unconvincing. The invisible string that tied Changmin to you tightened, stealing the breath right out of his lungs. It was as if his own physical body was yanking him back.

He was waking up.

No, he thought, no I need to make sure she's okay—

Distantly, he heard yours and Chan's voices. Your words between one another were muddied and distorted to Changmin. Before he could even begin to understand what was happening, his eyes opened.

“I could smell lunch through the door,” Juyeon sang to you in greeting as he eagerly beckoned you into the apartment.

You chuckled, shucking your shoes off under the rack by the door. In your hand, you held onto a large bag containing a box of delectably fragrant fried chicken and fries. Oh, glorious sodium and cholesterol. “Yeah, well, imagine my suffering as I was driving over here with it in the car,” you mused.

Juyeon locked the door behind you and took the bag out of your hands.

It was another thing to return to the site of last night's ritual. You'd been in this apartment dozens of times before, but it was difficult to look at the specific spot on the living room floor where the chalk and salt had been. Even if the vacuum cleaner had taken care of all that remained, you couldn't help but choose to sit on the end of the couch farthest from that spot on the floor.

“Oh, could I get a glass of water, by the way?” you asked Juyeon as the two of you began taking things out of the bag to lay them out on the coffee table. “I was feeling a bit lightheaded earlier.”

Juyeon's eyebrows creased as he straightened to head into the kitchen. “Shit, yeah—of course. You drove here while feeling like that? What if you passed out, Yn-ie?”

You snuck a fry into your mouth, murmuring your thanks as he handed you the cup of water. “I'm fine,” you insisted with a vague wave of your hand, “it was just the blood rushing up to my head, I think. And besides, you were already expecting me and I was hungry.”

“I would have woken Changmin up and dragged his ass out of bed.” Juyeon settled onto the couch with you and cracked open the can of Sprite he'd gotten out of the fridge. “You know, Changmin's been getting these random headaches, too. I guess not exactly nausea, but you guys have gotta be more careful,” he waved a fried potato at you as he said this.

The irony could not escape you, and you failed to keep a sarcastic smile to yourself. Uh huh. Be more careful, you say? Too late for that. You took a ginger sip of the water. “Is that right? Maybe he just needs more sleep or something.”

“That's what we thought at first,” Juyeon hummed, idly scratching the back of his neck, “but they happen no matter what he does. There's not really a noticeable pattern.”

You wondered if it had anything to do with his demoness. You couldn't be too sure because you hardly knew anything about his species yourself, but that could explain the seemingly randomness of the headaches. Perhaps it was another question to add to your list.

“Huh.” You frowned. “Well, I hope they go away for him soon.”

Juyeon nodded solemnly. “Yeah, same. Hyunjae's gonna bring over some matcha for him to try… oh, hey! You like matcha—do you want some?”

“Sure, I'd love—”

Your phone buzzed violently in your jacket pocket. A laugh of disbelief flew from your mouth when you saw the caller ID, and you flashed the screen at Juyeon. “Speak of the Devil.”

Juyeon chuckled as you answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, I'm so sorry I missed your text.” His voice, rough from sleep, was accompanied by heavy breathing and the sounds of fabric shuffling in your ear.

You nearly choked, but you remembered that Juyeon was none the wiser to the weird spike in your heartbeat, nor the reason for it. “It's all good; I was being impatient. Juyo said you didn't sleep well.” Your eyes darted to his closed bedroom door and wondered why he hadn't come out yet.

“Yeah.” A brief pause. “Are you—are you okay?”

“Of course, I'm okay,” you drawled, glancing over at Juyeon. “Why? Should I not be okay?”

“No, I mean—” His voice in your ear and behind his bedroom door overlapped one another like two ocean waves colliding along the sand. His door ripped open.

Changmin stood on the threshold with his phone in one hand and the other clutching the doorknob. He was in a loose white T-shirt and sweatpants, a thin layer of sweat making his cheekbones shine. His eyes, a wild creature of their own, landed on you—all of the tension in his body melted away.

He exhaled and sank against the doorframe, ending the call. “Hell…” he muttered under his breath as he dragged a hand through his hair.

Concern had you rising to your feet. “What? What's wrong?”

Changmin closed his bedroom door behind him and collapsed onto the couch somewhere between you and Juyeon. “Bad dream,” he grunted. “How much are we splitting?” The latter was asked as he shoved a fry into his mouth and pulled out the Venmo app on his phone.

You and Juyeon exchanged glances over the blond head: what just happened?; you think I know?

Juyeon sent you a shrug. “Well Yn?”

Now their focus was on you. You took your seat again and reached for your glass of water. “Ten bucks each.”

All of the food that you brought turned into crumbs faster than Cinderella's carriage at midnight. Considering all three of you had barely eaten all day, it was expected. At some point, Juyeon dipped out of the apartment to meet someone for a group project, so that left you and Changmin alone. It was the perfect opportunity to get what you came here for.

“You left pretty abruptly last night,” you said to him as you returned to the couch with a full glass of water. Changmin stood nearly opposite to you, his back against the wall by his bedroom door. He also nursed a cup of water. “And I have some questions.”

He let out a small laugh, his lips pressing his dimples into his cheeks. “I'm sure you do. Sorry, I realized that after I left,” he admitted and raised his free hand up to grab the back of his neck. “So shoot.”

It was strange, you thought. There was no way this guy could be a demon, but was that leaning into stereotype? Last night, that feeling you got when he looked at you from beneath the shadow of his cap… your hairs had stood on their ends and you couldn't shake the spike of adrenaline in your bloodstream. It had been undeniable.

But here he was with a pretty, boyish smile as if he was a completely different person.

“What did you mean by 'intercept the call?’ What exactly happened during the ritual last night?” you asked.

The smile slipped from his face a little, and his eyes flitted over to the spot you had been sitting twelve hours ago. “Like I said,” he began, “you opened a line to Hell—like a phone call, basically. I channeled enough energy to answer it before anyone else from Hell could. And instead of, y'know, appearing in front of you like another demon would, I was already there and just chose to stay quiet when the candles went out.”

You straightened. “So the breeze in the room was your doing?”

Changmin cocked his head to the side with a wince. “I think so? At least, I can't control it yet. Think of it as a physical manifestation of power.”

A physical manifestation of power—you imagined last night's scene from Changmin's point of view, where he stood in the far corner. He would have focused his energy toward the breach between the worlds, and that fulfillment swept through the room like a gust of wind. But then what about all the other times? That moment wasn't the only other instance of a cool breeze on your skin.

When you brought this up to him, Changmin pressed his lips together. “Ah. This?”

On cue, something lightweight and cool brushed past your cheek. Your hand darted up to cover it, and you looked over at Changmin who arched a brow at you. “You get creepier and creepier the more I know you.”

His mouth burst at the seams with a smile. He ducked his blond head, shaking it. You were missing some kind of joke here. “Don't speak too soon,” he said. When he raised his head back up, he ran his tongue over his smile. “It happens when I want it to, it happens when I don't want it to. Just depends.”

“Great.”

“I'll get it under control,” he promised.

You leaned forward onto your knees and pressed your mouth into a slight pout. “Is there anything I can do to bug the shit out of you? This seems like it's only entertaining for you.”

“Well,” Changmin shrugged helplessly, “that's kind of the point of why demons started to do this. They find humans entertaining, and they also like to hold them accountable. The line” —he gave a gentle tug at the invisible string you still couldn't find— “is an insurance policy.”

“Saying it like that just implies it's that much harder to work your way around it.”

“Pretty much.” A grin split his face, and you were struck by the ease you smiled back without having meant to. “Don't look too excited now.”

You flattened your face and voice. “I'm thrilled.”

Before Changmin could respond, you suddenly remembered the main question that plagued you last night. You cleared your throat, your fingers dancing around the sides of your glass. “By the way… why didn't you stop us last night?” You watched his facial expression and how it was carefully knitted into something blank. “If you knew what was going to happen, you could have insisted we stopped, and we would have. Why let us get to this point?” you asked, gesturing between the two of you.

Changmin's throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I was pretty confident that I could intercept it, so there wasn't any real risk with doing the ritual if you guys wanted to have fun. I just didn't count on…” He lifted his right hand, where the pinkish scar was left on his index finger.

He hadn't counted on you getting cut and sealing the bond.

You pinched the space between your eyes. “Ah. My clumsiness has now doomed me to be metaphysically handcuffed to you.”

“I wasn't going to say it…”

“Oh, go to Hell.”

Changmin laughed. “Only if you come with me.”

Heat rushed to the surface of your skin. Sometimes, his mouth moved too fast. You snuck a glance at him through your fingers while he sipped on his water. If you peered close enough, the tips of his ears were flushing to a light pink.

He lowered the glass from his lips, and a crease formed between his brows. “Also,” he said carefully, his tone starkly different from less than a minute ago, “I do have another side effect to add to the list.”

Your stomach flipped. Not another thing—

“I may or may not be able to occupy your physical body when I'm dreaming—”

Changmin grimaced as the bottom of your glass banged against the wooden coffee table. That expression only deepened at the wide-eyed fury—fear—on your face. “And when I was asleep earlier,” he continued on, dooming himself to walk the plank, “I kind of intruded on your reading session, and when you called Juyeon, and when Chan call—”

“Can I murder you? Would that harm me in any way?” you cut in.

His mouth was open, but no words were coming out.

You stood, abandoning your seat on the couch and your water glass, to step across the room toward him. “Because if I could,” you said while pressing the back of your knuckles to your lips, “I can rid myself of the absolute creep of a friend I have!”

Changmin's eyes widened as soon as it hit him—your hand. Your hand hit his shoulder.

He bolted.

“Hey, let's talk about this, Yn-ah!” he exclaimed and dove into the kitchen to duck behind the counter. Some monstrously high-pitched scream left his mouth as he scrambled to stay out of your reach.

“We are talking about this, Changmin-ah.” You charged after him, chasing him around the counter and back out of the kitchen. If you didn't respect Juyeon like you did, you would have fully embraced becoming a bull in a china shop.

Your fist hit the solid plane of his bedroom door just as it slammed in your face. You let out a sound suspiciously close to a growl. “You possessed my body without my consent!”

“It's not like I consented to it either! It just happened!”

“That's not a valid excuse, you panini head!”

“I don't want to possess your body!” he insisted through the door with his voice going higher than the Eiffel Tower. “Why would I want to possess your body? I don't wanna be around when you and bestie Lee Chan gush about Star Trek.”

On certain occasions you really wished you had Superman's laser vision. Then you could burn through this stupid piece of door and roast a demon. “You're not helping yourself, Ji.”

A beat passed. “Look,” he huffed. “It only happened because I was exhausted as shit, okay? I really had no control of it, I swear on my life.”

You remained still with your arms braided across your chest without a word coming to mind.

“I didn't see anything sensitive, I promise, and my body woke me up and pulled me out of it when you got that really bad headache.”

Huh? That bout of lightheadedness… was that related to how the connection was severed? Or at least, hindered? You brushed the curiosity aside; weren't you supposed to be mad at this guy?

“Which was also why I was worried when I woke up and asked if you were okay,” he added in earnest. He did look worried like you were going to die when he woke up…

You glared impetuously at the closed door to the point you were sure even the wood grains were two seconds from apologizing to you. “Okay, fine,” you relented. “But you're not fully off the hook; I just won't use the kitchen knives.”

A choking sound filtered through and you felt the corners of your mouth tug upward.

“What can I do to make it even?” Changmin asked, though he continued to remain behind the closed door.

Frankly, there weren't many things he could do to even the score unless you chose to be creepy and sit in on his private moments. You shuddered—you’d rather not. Those were private for a reason. Maybe he could burn his eyes out with bleach. (Kidding… ish.) “I don't know,” you said half-heartedly, ”tell me a secret.”

A moment of silence passed. “I thought it was hot when you asked if you could kill me.”

Not even an ounce of shame with this one, huh? “You're sick. I'm leaving.”

For the second time today, his bedroom door ripped open. “No, wait, I was kidding! Yn, I was kidding.” (He was not kidding).

You stopped, half-whirled around. In your periphery, he stepped out of his room, but refrained from getting too close. When you turned around fully, the red that dusted his cheekbones was unmistakable. Unfortunately, seeing him flustered was enough for you at the moment.

With a feigned, heavy sigh, you motioned to him. “C'mere.”

Changmin perked up like a confused puppy.

“Come here,” you repeated with more urgency this time. You curled your hand toward you to beckon him closer.

He crept closer to you. There was a gleam of uncertainty and suspicion in his eyes as you continued to gesture at him closer… and closer still. Your heart throttled against your ribcage; your physical body was even unsure of what exactly you had in mind.

Only once his face was close enough you could count his eyelashes were you satisfied. You could hear him gulp.

And maybe you let the moment linger too long. His gaze flickered away from your eye contact for a heartbeat, eyelashes fluttering as he considered something out of the bounds of friendship.

You raised your hand up to his forehead and flicked him between his eyes. Hard.

Changmin yelped and fumbled backward to the boisterous sound of your laughter. He rubbed his forehead furiously where an angry, red mark formed and smarted. He snarled at you, “Not cool!” His face was nearly as red as the mark… oops.

“That's what you get!” you countered with an accusing finger. “Now. Promise me you'll never purposely possess my body in your dreams, you perv.”

A grumble came from the depths of his throat—agreement. “I never did it on purpose,” he mumbled, slapping his hand with yours in a binding handshake. He sounded like a teen boy who's gaming console was just taken away.

“And promise me that you will take care of yourself, so that we can get out of this binding thing and so that you don't accidentally possess me.”

“Didn't you offer to get possessed last night?” Changmin stiffened as the words left his lips. “I didn't mean that! Don't get the kitchen knives!”

His giggles pierced the air, sharp but endearing, as he scrambled back into his room with you clinging to his heels. “Or get the kitchen knives—it’s kind of hot.”

“Ji Changmin.”

PART III: THE RELATIVE

WHEN YOU APPEARED IN YOUR 8:30 biopsychology lecture on Monday morning, you had nearly forgotten that the world had not completely turned upside down when you bound your soul to Changmin’s. No one else but you and he knew about it, and it seemed he was determined to keep it that way. Nonetheless, when you settled in your usual seat about midway up the lecture hall, close to the exit on stage right, you looked into Yeh Shuhua’s terrifyingly beautiful eyes and almost blurted your secret.

It was because of that reason, and the fact that she was one of your close friends. She was one of the participants of the ritual; it was only right that you disclosed to her the consequences of all your actions. However, the reminder from Changmin echoed in your head like a dull heartbeat: Don’t tell any of them. Don’t do something stupid like Hyunjae or Shuhua. He realized that ‘stupid’ applied to him, too, right?

“You seem antsy,” were her first words to you as you finally decided on how you would roll up your jacket. It had taken a couple tries and configurations before you settled on just draping it over the chair behind you.

You straightened in your chair. Perhaps subtlety was not with you this morning. “My coffee was too strong,” you said.

She snorted, a bright and unassuming sound, as she pulled her laptop out from her bag. “Honey, you don’t drink coffee.”

…Right. You let the words sink in to properly register your dumbassery, then settled on the most basic excuse known to college students. “It’s too early for this.”

“Amen.” Conversation saved.

When you first signed up for this class, you were under the impression that it would be a riveting insight into the brain and its inner workings. Alas, your professor from Psych101 did you a disservice by testifying to Psych210’s interest factor, because it was entirely lacking in interesting things. The majority of what was being discussed in lecture could be read about via the slides, but unfortunately, participation was mandatory. Even worse was that this class was the prerequisite to the neuroscience class that was actually interesting.

You didn’t like to critique the teaching skills of a professor who was meant to research and not to teach, but you were going to for the umpteenth time.

Beside you, Shuhua barely swallowed a yawn and hid the last bits of it behind the lid of her coffee tumbler. She took a sip, then leaned over to you. “I’m pretty sure I learned all of this in freshman year biology.”

“Is that right,” you murmured. You hadn’t taken the introductory biology series because you were only minoring in psychology, whereas Shuhua was a neuroscience major. “You must really be suffering then.”

Her head slowly touched down onto your shoulder. “Tell me about it… by the way, did you hear about the house party that’s happening on Saturday?”

You hummed. “Who’s hosting?” House parties were usually something you needed to be a part of a friend group to be invited to. Though, that was usually the case for all parties in college, you’d found out. Fraternity parties were oftentimes exclusive to Greeks, or if you knew a frat brother or sorority sister. Other parties were spread by word of mouth and required an entrance fee that amounted to a fraudulent sum of money. Thus, if you went to any party, it was either a house party hosted by a friend of a friend, or one of your friends’ birthday parties.

“Hm… it’s my family friend’s kid’s friend group.” She paused, then clarified her statement, “Yangyang. You know Yangyang, right?

You made a sound of acknowledgement. “Isn't he friends with Xiaojun, Kevin, and Yuqi, that group?”

“That's the one,” she chirped. “But he only lives with Xiaojun and a couple other guys. It's a house in one of the neighborhoods nearby.”

“I see. Are we going?”

“Of course we are, silly.” Shuhua blindly patted one of your hands and you imagined that her eyes were likely already closed. You and your friends were accustomed to forcing one another to socialize outside the group from time to time; it made the college riptide a bit easier to swim through. “I just didn't know if you were aware or not yet.”

“Well, now I am,” you chuckled.

“You sure are.”

The remainder of the lecture went by as dull as it usually did, and 9:30 could not come faster. You and Shuhua bumbled out of the packed auditorium among the crowd of others filing out.

A yawn stretched your mouth open as you checked your phone. “You've got a class after this, right?” you asked Shuhua.

She nodded. “Unfortunately. Do you wanna have lunch together afterward?”

“Ah” —guilt anchored itself to the pit of your stomach, allowing the urge to spill your secret to dwindle— “I'm actually hanging out with Changmin today.” Neither of you had terribly busy Mondays, so you both decided to do some solution-hunting together, whatever that meant. He just needed to be back by the time his dance rehearsal started.

Her mouth quirked to the side in a slight frown. “Oh, okay. Just you two?”

“Yep.”

For a second, you thought she was gazing right into your soul where the invisible knot was tied linking you to your mutual friend. But she suddenly smiled and blew you a kiss. “No worries! Have fun.”

You blinked, the anxiety lingering. “Yeah… thanks. You, too.”

Shuhua left first to hurry off to her next class while you remained in the lobby. You had fully expected that she would at least ask what the two of you were doing, and you were prepared to come up with another dumb excuse. It wasn't suspicious that you and Changmin were hanging out alone, right? There were plenty of instances where you hung out solo with your close friends.

You brushed it away. It was the paranoia talking.

You headed toward the nearest parking lot. Because you lived relatively close to campus, there was usually no need to drive, but since you and Changmin were going elsewhere in the city, you opted to drive.

As you settled into the front seat, you sent him a text to let you know you were on your way over to his apartment. It would be convenient if you could somehow use the soul-bond to communicate with him instead, you thought as you navigated through campus to a nearby neighborhood. Alas, based on what Changmin told you before, the bond was more useful to him than it was for you. How wonderful.

You let your car run as you pulled up to the curb outside of his apartment complex. Through the windows on the first floor, a periwinkle sheen caught your eye. There wasn’t much doubt in your mind that it was the ribbon Changmin tied to his bicycle. It was his favorite color—not that you knew that for any particular reason, other than the fact that you were friends. It was useful information for birthday cards, was your reasoning.

Before you could meander down some weird mental road of thoughts, the passenger side door opened and closed. Your counterpart was dressed in dark green today: dark green sweater, a darker but muted shade of cargo pants, followed by a matching cap shoved over his blond hair. “Hi,” he said, strapping himself in with the seatbelt and setting his bag down by his feet.

He looked particularly pocket-sized today with the cheeky, dimpled smile on his face and you smiled in greeting. “Hi!” you chirped back. “Where to?”

“An aunt of mine lives downtown. Do you know how to get to Union Station?”

You nodded, tugging the car into drive, “Yup. Wow, she lives down by the waterfront?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. When he did, he ducked his head so you only caught a glimpse of that dimpled smile. “She’s married to a siren.”

Your eyes went wide, and his laugh grew louder. You flattened your expression into a deadpan as heat rushed to the back of your neck. “Don’t laugh,” you muttered. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’d say for you to not pout then, but it’s cute,” he replied with that smile lingering on his face in the form of a half-smirk. He had pulled his phone out to text someone. “I’m only laughing because I had a feeling you’d react like that, and I was right.”

You huffed. “I feel like I’m at too much of a disadvantage around you.”

“You have more power than you think.” Changmin passed you a glance and deposited his phone in the cupholder. He leaned his cheek against his knuckles. “You just need to exercise it.”

“Well, I can’t exactly threaten you with kitchen knives and forehead flicks all the time.”

He shrugged. “That’s not what I meant, but it’s whatever. How was class?”

Changmin, Juyeon, and Hyunjae were all aware of yours and Shuhua’s disdain for your shared biopsychology class. The complaints had filed (flooded) in as soon as the first week of classes were over. You could gab on and on about the boredom that plagued you, but you hardly wanted to be a broken record when there were other things to talk about. “It was fine,” you said, then swiftly moved to something else. “I think I almost told Shuhua, like, twice about the soul bond thing. Why can’t we tell them again?”

“Do you really think they’d believe us?”

You thought about it—about the twin cuts on your index fingers, the unseen string that tethered your souls together, the dream that Changmin had. They would think Changmin had roped you into his regular shenanigans, and in a way, he had. You sighed, albeit reluctantly. “True. But it just feels…” you grimaced. “Is it weird that I feel guilty?”

Changmin shook his head. “No, I’ve had to tiptoe around my mom’s and my true nature around you guys for years. It’s natural to wanna be truthful to your friends, Yn, but some things are better left unsaid.”

“Is there a reason why the supernatural community stays hidden? Is that something I can ask?”

“Of course,” he said easily, turning his gaze out the window. “It’s just that it’s better—safer—for us this way. Humans can hardly handle differences amongst themselves as it is; imagine what would happen if they found that even more species of sentient beings existed, y’know?”

Truth was a difficult pill to swallow. It was a capsule that often found itself lodged in a throat rather than being digested. And even if it eventually managed to make it to the stomach, it sank to the bottom like a body anchored by bricks in a river. There was, unfortunately, much merit to what Changmin said.

Your eyes flickered to your side mirrors as you merged onto the highway. “I see.”

“It’s definitely relieving that at least one of my close friends knows the truth now, though.” He knocked the back of his hand against your arm in a warm gesture, and although you were unable to return the expression or even look at him then, he was looking at you.

Because you and Changmin set off just after rush hour passed, the drive through the downtown scene was relatively easy. The rest of your time in the car was spent chatting about the party Yangyang and his housemates were throwing, as well as Changmin directing you to his aunt’s residence by the marina. His ability to give directions left much to be desired; your car was filled with shouts and bickering whenever he told you to turn too late.

Somehow though, you arrived at the right street, and he even helped you find a parking spot along a curb that didn’t involve ungodly hourly parking rates. You wouldn’t call it a complete redemption, but he was on his way toward one.

“Are you sure it’s cool if we just show up unannounced like this?” you asked him, tilting your head back to peer up at the apartments that towered above you. Some of the windows were left open and their curtains drifted whimsically in the mid-morning breeze; some of the fire escapes were connected by copper-colored ladders, fitting together like a puzzle. You liked to think that complexes like this housed residents who were friendly to one another like some fantasy video game—a pair of friends hanging out of their windows to gossip across the fire escapes, a cat sleeping in the window—that sort of thing.

Changmin stood next to you, but his gaze was turned out to the marina in the distance, the sails of boats in the foreground of the slate blue-gray of the bay water. “Yeah, it’s cool. And we’re not exactly unannounced; I told her we were coming.”

“When?” You followed him in through the front door. The hinges squealed upon use and the door shuddered violently when it closed.

“In the car.”

You deadpanned at his back as you followed him up the stairs. “You’re an awful relative.”

“Don’t all relatives show up to their other relatives' homes unannounced?” he jested. “I’m a model nephew, actually.”

“A model in what standard? Hell?”

He shrugged up ahead, glancing back to pass you a boyish grin. “Yeah, basically. My mom says demons just kind of teleport into their relatives’ homes unannounced.”

“So that’s where your incredible lack of boundaries comes from,” you said and glowered up at him.

You met Changmin on the landing of the second floor and ducked out of the stairwell into the dimly-lit corridor. It was quiet here in the middle of the day, but you could hear the muffled sounds of television programs and voices emanating behind different doors you passed by. The carpet was well-trodden and didn’t kick dust up when you walked, and the overall smell was vaguely fishy and reminiscent of the seafood section of a supermarket.

“Cultural difference,” he replied cheekily. “This is hers, Aunt Jenna’s.” He gestured to the door he stood at with a rusted, gold B29 hanging on its surface just above the peephole.

You tucked your hands into your jacket pockets. “Anything I should know before going in?”

Changmin paused and his face flashed with realization. It translated roughly, but accurately enough, to ‘Uh oh.’ He opened his mouth to say something, but the door beat him to it.

Correction: his aunt beat him to it. Or at least, she was who you assumed was his aunt. Her facial features and bone structure weren't similar to Changmin’s at all, but those eyes—dark like the deepest corner of a shadow; engulfing, embracing, enveloping—her eyes were what made familiarity pang in your chest where the soul-knot sat.

Her mouth stretched into a bright smile. “Changmin-ah! And his significant other, isn’t it—or kids these days say partner instead, hm? Don’t be strangers now; come in, come in!”

What did she just say? You have got to be kidding me.

Too overwhelmed to think, you let his aunt usher you and Changmin in through her front door. You threw—chucked—an alarmed glance over at your counterpart, who could only meet your wide eyes with his own. Shoes were exchanged for slippers, and you were guided toward a couch settled in one part of the cozy living space.

“It’s nice to meet you, Aunt Jenna,” you finally managed to say through the heat flaring up your neck and behind your ears. “But I do have to, uhm, correct you.”

Changmin coughed beside you on the couch as his aunt perched on the coffee table across from you both. “She’s not my romantic partner, auntie. Yn’s just a friend.”

You nodded earnestly.

His aunt’s face flickered from that sunny smile to a more somber surprise. She broke into a sheepish sort of laugh, absentmindedly brushing a lock of hair behind her shoulder. “Oh, well how silly of me. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—I got embarrassingly excited,” she confessed. She addressed Changmin specifically, reaching over to whack his knee, “You used the word for lover when you texted me earlier!”

Changmin’s hands rocketed up as both you and his aunt fixed him with pointed looks. “It was a typo and an honest mistake,” he swore. “I haven’t spoken or written in that demonic dialect in awhile,” he said to you, “and the words for friend and lover are, like, one letter different.”

His mouth had pursed into an unconscious pout, and you reached over to flick him between the eyes. Bone against fingernail, and the dense thunk sound the impact produced was quite satisfying.

“Ow! I'm sorry!”

You turned to a rather amused Aunt Jenna. “I'm sorry I did that in front of you. I swear, I won't make a habit out of it.” That remained to be seen, however. How had you refrained from flicking him for his behavior before this?

She chuckled. “I'm sure he's warranted it more than once. It's nice to meet you, Yn.”

“Likewise. You have a lovely home.”

Changmin held his forehead with his hat now sitting in his lap, and his eyes narrowed at the two of you. “This was the worst idea I've ever had.”

“Do you drink tea, Yn?” his aunt asked you, waving aside her nephew's comment. “I'll make us some tea and we can talk about whatever you both came to discuss.”

Tea was served on an elegant tray made of polished dark wood. The color was a deep red, as if it had been dipped in a vat of blood, and was engraved with images of what you assumed to be flowers with long stems crowned with big, beautiful petals. You nursed a Finding Nemo mug between your palms, gently blowing on the steam that wafted out of the aromatic floral tea.

Just the fragrance of the drink was enough to put you at ease. The muscles and knots in your shoulders loosened, your frown lines smoothed over. You took a gentle sip and savored the tangible warmth that streamed down your throat and into your stomach.

You nodded to Aunt Jenna who's dark eyes gleamed knowingly over the rim of her mug. “That's very good,” you said.

“Isn't it? Would you like to take some home?”

Changmin harrumphed from beside you after taking a hulking gulp of his own drink. “Guys, please.”

“Mm yes, yes.” Aunt Jenna waved her free hand flippantly. “Your problem.”

While Jenna had prepared the tea, you and Changmin explained to her how your souls became tied together. Most of the explanation consisted of specific details of the ritual itself, not the circumstances before. You described the physical sensations on your end, and Changmin added in his out-of-body experience.

When your piece was said, it left Aunt Jenna to marinate on all the facts. She took a sip of her drink first. “Well, you're both fools, but you” —she wiggled an accusing finger at her nephew— “especially. How could you be so irresponsible as to let your friends go through with a bargaining ritual?”

Changmin grabbed the back of his neck and hung his head like a kicked puppy. “It didn't seem like the end of the world if they wanted to have fun.”

“I suppose,” Jenna muttered, but not without some sympathy. She was a demon living amongst humans, too, after all. “But look where that's gotten you both. There are just far too many unforeseen variables that could have made this situation ten times worse. You and Yn becoming soul-bound is probably the best outcome, frankly.”

You would beg to differ, but you kept your lips stitched together and attached to the rim of your mug.

“But as for undoing it, I'm afraid there aren't many options.”

You detached your mouth from the mug.

You and Changmin exchanged a glance with one another. He asked, “What are our options?”

Aunt Jenna's mouth pursed slightly to form small divots in the sides of her cheeks. “The one most accessible to you is to bargain with another, more powerful demon to take over your bond with Yn.”

“Absolutely not,” he interjected. “That's out of the question.”

“I guessed as much,” she said, taking another sip. “Then it's quite literally impossible—unless you used cursed magic—but even if you didn't care about facing the hellish consequences, gaining access to a Book of the Diabolical is insanely difficult.”

Though you were completely ignorant to almost everything Aunt Jenna was saying, you weren't so ignorant to her message between the lines: you were fucked. Supremely.

Looking over at Changmin only confirmed what you were thinking. There seemed to be a war being waged behind his eyes as he clutched his mug in his lap and glared at a grain in the hardwood floor. This situation was partially your fault and his, and now, the only thing you could do was to drown in the consequences.

You turned to his aunt. “Then how can we live with it?” In your periphery, Changmin's head raised. “I mean, are there techniques to better control this situation, like on both Changmin's end and my end if we can't simply rid ourselves of it?”

Aunt Jenna considered you for a moment, then nodded slowly. “There are,” she said. “Control is something very valuable to demons, Yn. I don't know how much Changmin's told you—”

You sent him a thin smile.

“—but mastering your own body is one of the most integral things young demons first learn. If you don't have control over your mind and body, then how could you possibly be trusted to control anything else?”

That made sense, you thought. It was a thoughtful principle, too, that others (humans) could learn from. What other parts of demon culture and values were there that these two would be willing to share with you?

Jenna had finished her cup of tea by now and set her empty mug back onto the tray. “So the easiest way, I think, to safeguard yourselves against one another is to strengthen your minds.”

What exactly Aunt Jenna had in mind was meditation. Because you were human and couldn't exactly perform the same demonic energy rituals and mind exercises that Jenna and Changmin could, meditation was the next best group activity. In order to do this, Jenna shut all of the curtains and sealed the living room off from the outside world. The coffee table and sofa were shoved to the edges of the room, while the empty space was occupied by three bath towels and a Bath and Body Works candle.

It was reminiscent of the ritual from That Night, but your heart rate sat a little more stable with the belief that you were in capable hands this time.

The three of you arranged yourselves in a loose triangle around the lit candle, its small flame shuddering at the force of your breaths.

“You can place your hands wherever you're most comfortable,” Aunt Jenna said lowly, softly—a vocal embodiment of the small head of fire upon the candle. “Sit up straight, close your eyes, and breathe in deep… let the darkness envelope you.”

There weren't many moments when you considered yourself petty, salty, or bitter. But at this very moment, you were most certainly all three at once.

“Are you really still mad that you fell asleep?” The question was posed with as much audacity as there was incredulity in his voice.

You didn't have to direct your glaring eyes at Changmin for him to feel the edge. “It was embarrassing,” you grumbled.

“Aw, it's okay. Not everyone has the mental fortitude to meditate.”

And you do? you wanted to snap back like a five year old. Instead, you tightened your grip on the steering wheel and focused on not steering the two of you off the road. “I will literally ditch you on the highway.”

He leaned his head against the window to watch you with a twinkle in his eyes and a toothy grin on his lips. “And I will literally haunt you in your sleep.”

The pair of you were in the car driving back up to the university. You had just left Aunt Jenna's about fifteen minutes ago after the failed meditation session (for you) and her insisting you both stayed for lunch. With your stomachs full and your heads quite literally empty, there was nothing left to do but to return home.

There had been a moment before you both left when Jenna pulled Changmin aside to have a private conversation. You had lingered outside the apartment door, but couldn't hear anything despite it being left slightly ajar. There must have been some crazy soundproofing done on her apartment. A charm, perhaps?

But when Changmin came to join you, you picked up the tail end of their talk. It had to do with Changmin pleading with her not to tell his mom about what happened; Aunt Jenna would only agree if he promised to babysit her kids next week.

That thought made you smile to yourself even through the cloud of salty pettiness in your vision. What was Changmin like around kids? The guy was rather childish himself, but… you wouldn't deny that he would probably be good—

“What are you smiling about?” he mused as he peered out from under the brim of his cap. He reclined his seat back a little and crossed his arms over his chest, settling himself in for the ride back.

You scoffed and forced the smile away. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He hummed. “Methinks it was about me,” he teased and tugged his cap further over his eyes so even his mouth was barely visible. At your silence, he murmured, “Also, I hope you're not bothered about earlier.”

“Hm?”

“I mean—the fact that you weren't able to meditate. And,” he added quickly, “I'm not trying to make fun of you. It's just that that was the only way Aunt Jenna could think that you could safeguard yourself against me. I'm gonna be really good about this, Yn, I swear. I don't—y’know, I don't want anything to change between us.”

Ah. Well, since his hat was over his eyes, you allowed your smile to slip back into place. The weight in your chest was warm, a comforting sort of tightness. You were gradually getting more accustomed to its presence, and at this particular moment, you were glad to be aware of it.

“I believe you,” you said to him. “And I don't want anything to change between us either.” You were friends before the ritual, and you would continue to be friends after it.

You were content with being accompanied by your thoughts and the radio for the remainder of the ride. Your companion in the passenger seat had drifted to sleep at some point when the highways began to grow rather congested with the early afternoon traffic. Changmin had a dance rehearsal in a couple hours, which gave some leeway as to what time you needed to get him back by.

By the time you hit the university district, the sun perched lower in a sky spotted with cirrus clouds, wispy and drifting in the autumn breeze. The filter it cast over the world was a mute gold, warm.

Changmin peered out his side window as you navigated through the busy streets, his face nearly pressed up against the glass because his cap was turned around. There was far too much foot traffic at three in the afternoon, but it was unfortunately a popular time to be out and about for students on a Monday. “Could you drop me off at the sandwich shop on the corner over there?” he asked suddenly, his voice gravelly from disuse. He inclined his chin further down the block, and you had enough time to switch lanes.

“Yeah, sure,” you murmured, glancing over at him. “You don’t want me to drop you off straight at the dance hall?”

“Nah, I’ve got a couple hours, so I think I’m gonna get another bite to eat first.” He rummaged around in the bag at his feet, double checking that he had brought along everything he needed. “D’you wanna…” His voice trailed off as he turned his head up toward you.

You hummed in question and furrowed your brows in concentration to direct your car into a parking spot along the curb.

“Did you wanna come in with me? I don’t know what your plans are after this.” Changmin had one foot out the door, but the rest of his body remained here with you, in the car, as if hesitant to leave just yet. With the brim of his cap turned around, you could better see his face, the hair pushed out of his dark eyes. There was a small smile seated upon his lips, hopeful in the way it curved into his cheeks in the way you always found slightly endearing.

Your hand lingered by your seatbelt. What were your plans after this? Nothing, right? “I mean, if you don—”

“Yn, is that you?”

The voice and the interruption elicited similar jolts from both of you. Your head whipped around on instinct to locate the person who had called out to you.

Crossing the street to you now was Lee Chan. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder, and he waved a hand at you when he caught your eye. But they flickered away from you to someone behind you—Changmin straightened to his full height, his head appearing over the roof of the car.

You glanced back at your counterpart. That smile, so boyish and innocent, had grown an edge.

“Thanks for the ride, Yn,” Changmin said to you, ducking his head to address you. He reached into the car so he could clasp your hand, his fingers clutching yours as he stole your gaze away… they lingered. “I’ll talk to you later, hm?”

You nodded, unsure why you were so dumbfounded. “Yeah, sure,” you stammered out. “I had fun today.”

“Same.” And there was that smile again. It wasn’t exactly the same, but it had softened out at the corners. With a final raise of his hand, he shut your passenger door and jogged off toward the shop.

You blinked as air suddenly filled your lungs again. Had you been holding your breath the whole time? You forgot to wish him a good rehearsal.

A knock on your window had you swiveling your head around. Chan grinned as you rolled your window down. “Hey, what’ve you been up to?”

Not a mention of Changmin, you noted. You were aware of Changmin and Chan’s dislike for one another, and though it caused you a torrent of internal conflict, there was nothing that you could do about it. If they were unwilling to talk about it with each other or with you, then there was no use. Both of them were important figures in your life, so it was just as important that you could keep them both—was that selfish? It seemed that they were able to somewhat coexist, however, if they participated on the same dance team. How did that even work out?

“I was out with Changmin for most of the day,” you said. “We were just… y’know, visiting a relative of his downtown.” There was no harm in saying that, right?

Chan’s expression didn’t even shudder. “Oh? I didn’t know he had relatives downtown.”

Of course, you didn’t. You appreciated that he tried to be civil about Changmin around you, but sometimes the pretense was more aggravating than the petty disdain. “Yeah, they were really nice. We drank tea and chatted a bit.”

“Glad it was a chill time,” he smiled. “Ah, speaking of—I was wondering if you wanted to go visit Chaeyoung noona with me sometime this week? I've been trying to figure out the best time to go see her before midterms.”

You brightened at the mention of Chan's older sister. Though his parents had passed away before Chan graduated high school, he was supported mostly by his older sister, Chaeyoung. You'd heard and seen for yourself the chronic illness that she was cursed with, however. There had been a decent stretch in time when her situation looked much better, but recently, she had been forced back into long-term care at the hospital.

“Yeah, definitely! It'll be nice to see her after so long. Just text me and let me know what day you decide.” The last time you saw Chaeyoung was probably at the start of the past summer break when you went home to see your parents with Chan. Though you and Chan were around the same age, he acted more as an older brother figure to you, likely because of Chaeyoung's good influence.

The golden hour sun glinted its rays into your eyes, and you were reminded of the time. “Oh, don’t you have dance practice soon? Need a ride over?”

“Yeah, I do, but I don’t need a ride,” he said. “I was about to meet Vernon in the cafe down the street though. Do you wanna come with?”

The idea of accepting his invitation crossed your mind, but the ache in your legs and at the nape of your neck were suddenly a lot more prominent than before. You hadn’t even realized how tired you were. “Not this time; I think I'm a little tired. Thanks for the invite, though!”

He pressed his mouth together in slight disappointment, but waved it away with a casual hand motion. “Of course. Drive home safe, then.”

“I will. Have a good time, Chan.”

Chan returned the sentiment back to you, but instead of leaving right away, his lips parted another time. He paused, concern gleaming in his eyes—or was that the setting sun? You couldn’t tell the difference, but there was something he couldn’t quite articulate with words that his facial expression was desperate to reveal to you instead.

You frowned. “Something wrong?”

He let out a small laugh and brushed away the thought. “No, don’t worry about it.”

Are you aware that you've been cursed?

Aunt Jenna's words echoed in Changmin's head ceaselessly throughout the dance rehearsal. They had been subdued slightly when he was asleep in your car earlier, but consciousness tended to surface more nightmares than the unconscious state. Even in the bright light of day, those shadows found a way to creep in and force him into some horrific tunnel vision.

No, he wasn't aware that he'd been cursed. How could he?

Out of everything he thought she pulled him aside for, that was the last thing he expected. The look in her eyes—those dark irises that mirrored his in depth—had been stricken by a grave worry. Those all-knowing eyes, far surpassing his in experience, had taken one look at him coming in through the door and determined something horrible had happened.

A curse?

You haven't been feeling strange lately? She had grasped him by the shoulders, her hands firm in their iron grip. Any strange aches and pains?

The headaches. He told her about the random, spotty headaches that had been plaguing him recently. It hadn't occurred to him at all that they could even be a side effect for a curse.

I've heard some strange things have been going on to the demons in your area. The curse has subsided for now because of your half-humanness, but…

Changmin could fill in the blanks.

His appeal to Aunt Jenna about not telling his mom about any of this included both the soul-bond and the curse. Based on what his aunt told him, there have been demons in this area who have been forced into critical conditions by an energy-stealing curse. That would explain his frequent headaches and his increased exhaustion. Though, the headaches had been on the decline as of late, which coincided with the other part of Jenna's warning.

He was at odds. He couldn't simply sit around and wait for whatever maniac was at large to suddenly stop. He and all the other demons around him were sitting ducks. Worrying about the soul-bond was one thing, but he supposed this now took priority.

Changmin hunched over his bag in one of the darkened corners of the practice room. The lights had been turned down slightly as their four reserved hours drew to a close. It was a hard night, but the sweat, heat, and adrenaline was a delightfully addicting mixture.

Absent-mindedly, he rubbed a palm over his chest. The invisible knot there that linked you to him tightened at the attention. He had made a habit of this over the course of the past few hours; the physical sensation of the string tugging grounded him and kept him from disappearing into his head too much.

Could you feel him on the other end? He was certain you could if he made it obvious. If he tugged just right—

“Ji. I need to talk to you.”

The only sign of surprise Changmin let Lee Chan see was the raising of his eyebrows. “I don't need to talk to you.”

“It's about Yn.”

Changmin's movements froze. He let go of his bag's strap and zippers with a sigh, then straightened up to meet Chan eye to eye. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What about Yn?” You were his problem now, whether you liked it or not.

Chan's eyes narrowed at him, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “I don't know what you think you're doing with her, but you need to stop. It was enough that she's friends with you—”

He couldn't help but scoff. What the fuck is he going on about? Changmin's mouth twisted into an incredulous smirk, the points of his canines peering out from under his lip as he jabbed his tongue into his cheek. “I was wondering when you'd finally drop the Nice Guy act.”

“This isn't about me putting up a front,” Chan quipped in hushed tones. He wouldn't have done so if he wanted to make a scene. “This isn't even about us not liking each other. My problem is that you're roping Yn into your—your fucking bullshit.”

Changmin furrowed his brows. “You're being vague and dramatic, Lee Chan. I really don't have the time or the patience for this.”

“I know who you really are, Ji.” In any other context, those words in that order would have made Changmin bark out a laugh.

Changmin shuddered as he sized up Lee Chan in a different light. It was almost funny how perspective could change everything. In the daylight and bright fluorescents, Chan was a model kid with a charming smile and unshakeable charisma. He cared about you and watched over you like a brother. But without the presence of light was when Changmin was most afraid of what he saw. It was not because he was afraid of the dark—the shadows, frankly, were a demon's ally—it was because the dark did something to Chan in the same way blood infested clear water.

Chan's mouth was set in a firm line, and nothing about his facial expression or stance gave even an inkling that he was bluffing.

“I still have no fucking clue what you're talking about,” Changmin replied lowly, scooping his bag up and brushing past Chan.

He went to find Juyeon. The organ in his chest pumped his blood wickedly fast through his system; the blood thundered in his ears, loud and deafening, like an oncoming train. Aunt Jenna was in his head, you were in his chest, Lee Chan was at his back.

Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom—

He and Juyeon were out the door in a flash, but Changmin glanced backward—because we always turned toward that which was capable of our demise; that was survival instinct—and he flinched when Chan's eyes caught his again.

Changmin let the door slam behind him as he stole into the cold night. If only the darkness could hide him from whatever just happened.

read part two here (if the link isn't there yet, refresh out of this page and it'll be linked at the top)

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[babybinko]

Made a TON of Venture Bros. genderbends :D

Bonus + some of my thoughts on all the designs under the cut:

This is from a conversation I had with a friend about how Dermott and Hank would behave in this AU (its exactly the same as normal)

Ok now some thoughts on my design process

Hank: I think I drew Hank's face actually perfect, I made her so cute. I also feel like there's a common trope with genderbends where athletic characters get short hair so I gave her long hair and gave Dean short hair. I actually think the longer hair fits her perfectly. ALSO I LOVE HER BOOTS.

Dean: I gave goth Dean more Accessories than normal because normal goth dean had no fucking swag (it was besties idea to make her pants ripped). Even before I started drawing college Dean I knew I was giving her those legwarmers you can pry them from my cold dead hands. Same with the legwarmers I knew the first dean design needed a Jean skirt its just the vibes.

Dermott: The millisecond I even thought about doing Dermott I KNEW she would be 2012 grunge girl aesthetic. Gigantic shoplifting energy. Love her.

Rusty: I wanted her to look like a mean mom and I believe I accomplished that goal. Absolutely had to add the glasses strap. Very Jamie Lee Curtis.

Brock: I drew the one with the hair down first and my friends preferred the one with the hair up so I just did both. I wonder if she was a cheerleader in college and killed another girl on her cheer squad by throwing her too far/dropping them.

21: I drew 21 then I realized I had just drawn myself with bangs. Also I drew her with a blunt because there's an episode where 21 has a joint in his mouth the whole episode the other henchmen are standing in stupid poses in the background and its maybe one of my favorite bits in the entire show its so stupid.

24: 24 took several attempts to get the hair right I kept drawing it short and curly and my friend told me to give her Elaine from Seinfeld hair which I think ended up working really well.

Monarch: One of my favorites I did. I feel like this one you can definitely tell how Bayonetta completely re-arranged my brain chemicals as teenager. I love the hip cutouts, I made a tummy cutout to kind of mimic how Dr.GF's monarch costume is kinda skimpy. It's also hard to tell because of the cowl but I tried to give her like a finger waves hairstyle.

Dr.Gf: I tried a bunch of different hats but my friends liked the brimless hat the most and completely doomed him into looking like a Bellhop (more than he already did). Its giving Tyler the Creator at the 2020 Grammys. I still think he's cute though :)

Billy: I really didnt want to just draw her in a suit because thats boring. The show always gives me 60s vibes despite being set in modern day (I'm sure its on purpose) and I definitely channeled that with Billy. It took a couple tries to find a balance between fitting her body but still looking adult but I think I got it in the end.

Pete: YAYYYY PETE YAAAAYY!!! ^_^ Shes so Ava Max Coded. I also gave her giant buckles on her shoes to match his stupid ass one two buckle my shoes ass shoes.

Triana: Very much looks like putting emo boy in the Pinterest search bar. I made her thigh highs into his sleeves and I gave him square bangs like her.

Dr. Orpheus: NEEDED to make her a hot milf and I did. Its a little hard to see but her shirt has lace over the open part. I love the hair Jewerly at the bottom of her braid. :)

[rosie-bun27]

Diasomnia boys : Their love language !

Characters : Malleus Draconia , Lillia Vanrouge , Silver Vanrouge , Sebek Zigvolt

Pairing : x [Fem] Reader

❤🧡💛💚💙💜

----

(A/N : Okay , I think I will be making this into a little series where I cover all the dorms in Twisted wonderland , starting with my favourite ! Give your suggestions in the comments for which one I should do next (≧∇≦)/)

----

💚Malleus Draconia💚

Love language : Words of affirmation , gifts

1) Malleus loves to shower his darling with compliments and sweet nothings . After all , since he is the soon-to-be crowned king of Briar Valley , it is only fair that his partner gets to be treated and pampered like a princess .

2) However , his love doesn't merely stop at words . For what kind of lover would he be if he didn't also shower his darling with expensive gifts , adorning them like a sweet little doll , all wrapped up in silk and adorned with gold and jewels .

"My love , how could I possibly focus on the night sky , when you are my whole world ?"

**Bonus headcannon [🎉] : "What makes them really flustered ?"

Malleus : Any kind of physical touch . Just a soft little squeeze of the arm while the two of you are out on a walk or a sweet little peck on the cheek is enough to get his tail wagging and his cheeks flushed a bright red . His heart almost seems to melt as he just stands there , looking at you adoringly .

----

💚Lillia Vanrouge💚

Love language : Words of affirmation

1) Lillia just loves to see you blush when he flirts with you . He loves the way you bashfully avert your gaze when when he has made that cute little face of yours turn bright red , or the way your face seems to light up with the cutest smile after he has just complimented you .

2) Lillia also loves to playfully tease you , getting you all riled up just to see how much he could make you blush ~ To him you are just the cutest little human in the whole wide world , and your cute little flustered reactions make you all the cuter to him .

"Awh ~ Aren't you just the cutest , sweetheart ? Careful now , if you keep being so adorable I might just be tempted to eat you up !"

**Bonus headcannon [🎉] : "What makes them really flustered ?"

Lillia : Any sort of hand-made gift , whether it be a drawing , a cute little crafting project or a hand-sewn or knitted piece of clothing , he just can't help the little smirk that comes to his lips , or the oh so faint pink tint that paints his pale face when you give him something made from your own little hands . You are just so full of suprises , how could he not love you even more ?

----

💚Silver Vanrouge💚

Love language : Physical touch

1) Silver might not always be able to tell you "I love you" directly , unless you catch him lovingly mumbling it under his breath during one of his naps , or be able to spend as much time doing fun activities with you , but he is always up to cuddle , just wrapping you you up in his embrace and snuggling into you , giving you lots and lots of kisses all over your little face .

2) The only issue is that sometimes Silver's sleepyness can be so powerful , that he ends up trapping you in his warm embrace until he wakes up from his nap , which usually takes quite some time , so do be prepared to stay there for a while .

"... Mhm , you're so soft darling ~ Don't ... Go yet ~"

**Bonus headcannon [🎉] : "What makes them really flustered ?"

Silver : When you also return the physical affection . Cuddling with you as he sleeps is ptobably the highlight of his day , and he enjoys how soft and cuddly you are against him . Just the though of having you in his arms , all cuddled up against him .

----

💚Sebek Zigvolt💚

Love language : Acts of service

1) Let's be honest , Sebek doesn't exactly have the best way with words , as no matter how he tries to word his feelings he always ends up sounding mean and bossy and aggresive .

2) And so , the only way for him to properly express his love for you is through his actions . Making sure that his darling is taking care of herself and eating proper healthy meals and sleeping the recommended amount , and doing little favours like helping you with homework , or carrying your books when they are too heavy for you to carry .

"Good morning my darling ! Have you eaten brealfast ? ... No ?!? *proceeds to get you something to eat while firmly lecturing you about how precious and valuable you are and how you should take care of yourself !*"

**Bonus headcannon [🎉] : "What makes them really flustered ?"

Sebek : Bold flirting , when his darling gets playful with her words , he just melts . How is he supposed to keep his composure and remain serious when you are calling him all these cutsey nicknames ?! Watching him just turn as red as a ripe tomato as he stumbles over his words is just the cutest thing ever ~

----

(That's all !)

❤🧡💛💚💙💜

(A/N : I feel like Silver's and Lillia's didn't turn out as good but oh well T^T)

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 ♡⃕ spider boy, king of thieves:

spiderman ! percy jackson

▰▰▰ pairing(s): percy jackson x female!reader.

Spider-boy, king of thieves Weave your little webs of opacity

author: percy jackson is the textbook definition of a peter parker variant, fight me

y/n loved Percy Jackson, she was sure of it. Had been sure of it for years now. For some time, she had been sure, too, that those feelings were one hundred percent reciprocated.

Percy and her, they had this pull towards each other, or that's what everyone else seemed to believe when they said the two of them were perfect for each other. Sadly, y/n was aware that the fairytale everyone seemed to buy was far from perfect and, as much as she wanted to be with him, something always seemed to get in the way.

This was the thrid time they broke up, and y/n was sure it was going to be the final time. Of course, they always seemed to find their way back to each other but she couldn't allow that to happen another time. As much as she loved him, she simply couldn't.

Because dating Percy was a mess, a hurtful mess. it wasn't always like that. they used to be happy and in love, but then he started disappearing for hours with no communication, arriving late to pick her up or standing her up on dates, and he always gave some kind of made up explanation about it. The last straw was when he arrived two hours late to the winter dance he had promised to take her and then refused to tell her why.

y/n's friends seemed to think there had to be two explanations: he was cheating on her or losing feelings for her. Either way, she didn’t want to find out, so she broke up with him before he had the chance to break her heart again. Now there was absolutely no going back, even if all she wanted to do was call him back and take back everything, that wouldn't even work since he never even answered his phone.

"so this is the last time, huh?" her best friend said skeptically, as if she really didn’t believe her. Fair enough, she had already gone back to him two times already.

"yes, and you'll see I really mean it this time." she reassured her friend as she held her phone in between her ear and her shoulder, her hands busy while she went through her closet. "this trip is just what I need, when I'm back I won't even remember who Percy Jackson is."

That was hardly the truth, but at least she hoped she could begin to get over him while she was away for the holidays. She was going to Boston to visit family there, and maybe some time apart from the city and from Percy would be just what she needed.

"y/n, you know I love you" her friend started and she was taking the clothes she needed for the trip but she paused when she heard her tone. "but I find that hard to believe."

y/n was about to reply in her defense, when her gaze landed on a blue sweater in her closet. Percy's sweater. She didn’t even know how long it had been there, but she knew exactly what to do.

"i'm being serious, I'll even go and give him his things back before I go to Boston." she decided, dropping her own clothes in her suitcase before taking the sweater from her closet.

that was something she had never done in the past two breakups, and she did have a lot of his stuff just hanging around in her room. Some of his clothes, his camera from the last time he came around, some of his books, drawings, comics, even the christmas gift she had already bought and wrapped for him weeks ago.

She hadn't realized how much of his stuff she had until she hung up on her friend and she already had a box full of his things. It was difficult not to cry while going through it all, everything held a memory behind it and every memory having anything to do with Percy was painful enough to bring tears to her eyes.

Still, she managed to keep her feelings in check as she took the box and walked out of her apartment, thankfully her parents seemed to be too busy packing to have any questions as she slipped out of the front door. Then, walking to Percy's was easy enough since he didn’t live too far from her, so twenty minutes later she stood upside of his apartment with the box in one hand as she knocked with the other one.

It wasn't Percy that came to open, and she should've been grateful that it was Sally instead, but her smile almost dropped because maybe she had wanted to see him. Still, Sally was too sweet not to smile at her as she opened the door. "y/n! what are you doing out in this cold? and without sweater!"

something she could admit was that she was going to miss was Sally, Percy's mom was just the sweetest and always cared for y/n like she was family. And now the tears were threatening to spill again.

"I wasn't planning on spending too much time out of my house." she started, biting the inside of her cheek because she couldn't, for the love of God, cry in front of Sally. "I was just dropping Percy's stuff off."

Sally looked at the box in her hands and finally seemed to register what was happening, her smile fading slowly as she now looked at the teenager with pity. y/n knew she was probably aware of the break up, Percy always told Sally everything, but it was hard having to stand there and act all tough when the woman was looking at her with such sadness.

still, Sally was nothing if not positive, so after a second she smiled again. "he's not here right now, but you can come in and wait for him if you want." she opened the door further, as if welcoming her in.

and y/n knew she shouldn't, she should just leave the box with Sally and forget all about Percy, but she simply couldn't say no to Sally. And, well, she hadn't seen Percy since last week, it would hurt to see him one last time. Maybe make sure he was doing alright.

"okay" she nodded and stepped into the apartment, following behind Sally as she beamed at her.

Of course, Sally gave her some hot cocoa and blue chocolate chip cookies while she waited, and she made sure to avoid the breakup topic when they both sat down to talk. y/n loved Sally, she was always full of stories and advice and a kind of motherly love y/n herself wasn't used to receiving from her own mother.

But after an hour, Percy hadn't came back and Sally didn’t have a clue where he was, so she sent y/n to wait for him in his room while she went to run some errands. Which y/n should've refused to do but yet again didn’t.

"And y/n?" Sally called as she opened the door, the younger girl was still amazed at how much the woman trusted her just to leave her there. "I can't say I know what exactly happened between you and Percy, but I can tell you he cares about you."

Yeah, that's what y/n had wanted to believe for years, what everyone always told her. But now she wasn't so sure about it, still, she smiled at Sally and let her go before she went into Percy's room, which was exactly how she remembered from the last time she had been there.

She tried not to look around too much, knowing she would feel too nostalgic about it all, instead she busied herself with playing some game on her phone while she waited. Unfortunately, thirty minutes later Percy hadn't arrived and she was already too tired of waiting for him. That's all she ever did. So she stood up from his bed, leaving the box there and shortly after making her way to the door while the dissapointment settled in her stomach.

but then just as she was about to turn the knob, she heard some ruffling behind her back and then the noise of Percy's window opening. She immediatly turned around, her heart racing as she expected to find some thief entering through the window, yet she had to stop herself from screaming when she didn’t find thief but, far from it, Spider-man.

what was Spider-man doing in Percy's room? As he entered the room, y/n put her hands over her mouth to stiffle a stragled sound. Spider-man didn’t seem to realize she was there as he started crawling through the roof.

y/n was gaping at the superhero, unsure of what to do as her mind raced through countless scenarios. Yet, nothing could have prepared her for what happened next. She let out a squeak she couldn’t contain when Spider-Man started to remove his mask, catching his attention

wait wait wait y/n froze when she realized- first she recognized the hair. his hair. the one she had ran her fingers through countless of times. When he finally turned around, she already knew who he was.

Percy looked as shocked as she was once his eyes finally found her, her pale face and her back against the door she had been trying to open just seconds before. "this is not what you think it is." he blurted out, still hanging from the roof.

She had trouble finding her voice again. "so you're not Spider-man, you just go around crawling on people's ceilings dressed as him?" she asked, surprised at the slight sarcasm in her shocked voice.

He let go of the roof, y/n was about to point out that his amazing landing didn’t exactly help his case at all, but he looked at her with panic in his eyes so she shut her mouth. "well maybe it is what it looks like."

She lost her breath, and she knew she had to sit down soon, so she simply walked past him and took a seat in his bed, exactly where she had been minutes before. Percy's eyes shifted at the box placed beside her, and he looked like he was about to question it before he shook his head and pushed it away so he could sit.

"So you're Spider-man." she managed to say after a few seconds of silence that felt like hours.

"I guess I am." he replied, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal at all, for a moment y/n wanted to throw something at him but now that she knew he was Spider-man, it was likely he was going to catch it before it even came close to hitting him.

That thought opened the door for many others as realization dawned on her: Every time he caught something without even looking, every time he was late to dates or disappeared for hours only to reappear suddenly—she realized it all added up. The missed calls, unanswered messages, and the times he stood her up, and-

"Oh my god, is this why you were late for the winter dance?" he seemed to hesitate before he nodded slowly, she averted her eyes to look at anything but him, she couldn't look at him right now. "so you let me break up with you instead of just telling me the truth?"

"it's not-" he stopped himself, taking a deep breath before he could go on. "it's not like that, I just wanted to keep you safe."

She didn’t know if she was annoyed or sad, but she sure as hell wanted to cry. "Percy you've been lying to me, that's not fair."

Percy rubbed the back of his neck, looking directly at her even though she wasn't looking at him. "I know it’s not fair. I know I messed up. But I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. I thought you’d be safer if you didn’t know, if I kept you away from me."

"Safer?" she scoffed, finally meeting his gaze with her eyes filled with tears. "Percy, you don't get to decide that for me. Do you know how much it hurt to think you didn’t care? I thought I wasn't enough for you for so long."

Seeing the tears in her eyes made Percy want to reach and hug her, but he knew her too much to know that she would probably pull away. "I care about you, that's why I did it." he felt like he was drowning as he tried to explain himself. "you mean everything to me, I wouldn't want to risk putting you in danger."

Her lips trembled as the anger melted into exhaustion. She wanted so badly to just let it go and fall back again into his arms, but the wound in her chest still ached. "You should’ve told me. I would've understood you."

He hesitated, his shoulders sagging as he admitted, "I was scared, okay? Scared the people after me would use you to get to me. Do you think I wanted you to feel like this? To lose you to this?"

The room fell silent again, but after a moment she looked away and stood up from the bed, she couldn't bear another minute there "I don’t know if I can forgive you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Not right now."

And with that, Percy let her go. He had so many things to say, but he knew it wasn't the right time, it was better to just give her some time to think. But he also knew that she wouldn't let her walk away again, not this time. Not ever again.

y/n's parents were very mad at her but she couldn't bring herself to care just yet. The boston trip would've been an excellent idea after all the mess with Percy, but instead she had decided to skip it altogether and stay home for christmas.

Fortunately, New York was big enough so that she could avoid running into Percy. Unfortunately, it was difficult not to think about him when everything reminded her of him.

y/n loved to spend her afternoons walking through the bustling streets of New York. Right in that moment, she was trying to distract herself, but everything reminded her of him: the street vendor they always stopped by for pretzels, the bookstore where he had listened to her talk about every book she had read, the park where they had shared their first kiss just under a snowy day like this. Every way she looked to, there was a memory of him hidden.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice him hidden, following her every step until suddenly strong arms wrapped tight around her waist, and before she could even gasp, she’s was already soaring into the sky. Wind rushed past her as she looks at the the familiar red-and-black suit. "Percy!" she yells, half-angry, half-dizzy from the height.

He chuckles, the sound muffled through the mask. "Hey. Missed me?" she wanted to keep screaming at him, but she looked down and realized just how high they were so she gasped intead, holding tighly onto him.

He swung them higher, the city blurring beneath them until they landed on the rooftop of some random building. She stumbled a little, trying to catch her breath, but Percy steadied her.

"What the hell, Percy? you can't just do that and-" the words died in her mouth once she looked at what was waiting just in front of her.

"Surprise." he said softly, motioning to the cozy picnic blanket and basket waiting for them. The setting sun was casting a golden glow over the skyline, the view breathtaking.

He pulled his mask off as he turns to face her, his sea green eyes full of guilt. "I know it won't solve everything, but I just need you to listen to me, and after that if you hate it, you can push me off this roof."

That made her smile just a little, unintentionally showing the lingering affection she had been trying to bury. "as if that would work, you would probably land on your feet."

He laughed, and she realized just how much she was missed that laugh.

However, before she could even try to commit it to memory, he turned serious again as he took a step closer to her. "I'm really sorry for not telling you the truth sooner, I should have never let you believe that I didn’t care about you. I can't take what I did back, but from now on I swear to you that I'll never keep anything else from you again. Just let me show you how much you mean to me. One day at a time"

She tilted her head to the side, giving him a soft smile. "You’re really not going to give up, are you?"

"Not a chance," Percy replied almost immediatly, as if he didn’t even need to think about it. "You mean too much to me."

She looked at him for a long moment of silence, but she didn’t say anything, she simply stood there in silence before she finally sighed and went to sit on the blanket he had set up, he seemed confused but immediatly followed her to sit beside her. He didn’t push her, didn’t try to force a resolution. He just sat there, letting her process, letting her feel.

"Does this mean I don’t get pushed off the roof?"

"Don’t push your luck, Jackson," she replied, rolling her eyes even though there was a smile tugging at her lips.

They both sat right there in silence until she finally speaked again, looking up at the sky before going back to find his eyes, that were already on her. "one day at a time." she granted finally, and before he could even begin to smile, she continued. "but no more secrets."

Percy’s lips twitched into a small smile, and he nodded. "no more secrets."

She smiled at him, and he smiled at her. And they both knew that maybe not everything was okay just yet, but they would work it out. They were both in silence, except this time it was peaceful knowing that there was no secret between them.

However, as much as Percy was happy, he was also Percy so he couldn't hold the silence for much longer. "have you ever wanted to see New York the way I do?" he asked.

She hesitated, narrowing her eyes at him. "What does that mean?"

He stood up, offering her a hand as his eyes had a certain playful shine on them. "trust me, just let me show you."

And because y/n would follow that boy just about anywhere without any doubt, she took his hand after a second and let herself be pulled by him. It all happened so fast, one moment she's was standing up and the next he had her arms wrapped around her waist, stepping backwards off the ledge of the rooftop.

"Percy!" she shrieked, clinging to him instinctively as they both hung upside down.

"Relax, I’ve got you," he told her, chuckling softly. He started to walk slowly along the side of the building, his movements careful. She clutched onto him tightly, her heart racing from the adrenaline... and maybe from being so close to him again. "I always do."

When they reached a quiet spot where they could see the skyline, he stopped, holding her steady. "Look" he said softly, holding her with one arm as he uses the other to point to the city.

She followed his gaze, her breath hitching at how breathtaking the city lights looked shining beneath them. "it's beautiful, Percy" she mumbled.

"You’re beautiful" he didn’t meant to say it out loud, but he did and maybe he didn’t regret it, because when she looked at him, just a moment, the weight of their recent struggles melted away.

She rolled her eyes, but a small laugh escaped her. And it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. "That’s the corniest thing you’ve ever said."

"hey! I’m trying here" he replied, grinning. "besides, you deserve all the cheesy lines in the world."

y/n shook her head, but she couldn't hide her smile. And maybe, she thought, it isn't perfect at all but it's right. He's right for her. They are right for eachother.

They stayed there, just looking at the city underneath them as the night stretched on until it's was time for her to go back home. With the city humming below, Percy swung her back to her apartment.

The night air felt cold against her face, but thankfully her apartment wasn't far away. in no time, Percy was settling her down on the fire scape by her window.

"home sweet home." she couldn't see his face since he had put on the mask, but she knew he was grinning.

"thank you for dropping me home, quite literally." she smiled at him as she opened her window, but she didn’t step inside just yet because she wanted to be there with him for a longer moment. "and for everything else."

"anytime." once again, y/n wished she could see behind the mask because she could swear he was smiling, and she loved seeing that smile. Percy seemed like he was also buying time before he had to go. "hey, we're ok?"

"we will be" she nodded, and that seemed to be a good enough answer for Percy, who nodded back and took a deep breath.

Not knowing what else to say, she finally stepped into her room. Percy he took a deep breath as he saw her, then legs hooked over the ledge and he hung upside down, his head poking through her winsow.

"good night, y/n" he mumbled softly, ready to swing away. but just as he was turning to leave, she finally spoke.

"wait, Percy" she called for him, making him stop and turn his face back to her almost immediately, he looked alarmed, like he was bracing himself for something terrible to happen.

He was about to ask what was wrong, but y/n didn’t even stop to think before she pulled his mask down, uncovering his lips. Percy, perched outside her window, let out a surprised gasp just as she leaned in and claimed his lips with hers.

Percy's breath caught in his throat as he froze, surprised. But when he finally did react, he steadied himself, and leaned into the kiss, his heart pounding so hard he was afraid it might jump out of his chest at any moment.

The kiss started tentative, a mix of hesitation and longing. But as they melted into each other, the city around them faded away. For the first time in weeks, she felt whole again.

When they finally pulled apart, she could finally see the smile on his face. "and there it is folks, Spider-Man always gets the girl."

She rolled her eyes, swatting his chest lightly, but she couldn't possibly fight the smile tugging at her lips. "You’re impossible."

"And you love it." he replied, his grin widening.

y/n chuckled, looking down at him, her heart full. "I’ll see you soon, Percy," she said, her voice playful yet fond.

"make that tomorrow." He winked at her, then swung away into the night, leaving her standing by the window, knowing that they would be alright.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: sodapop, ponyboy, johnny cade, and dallas winston

↳ warnings: mentions of being beaten up, various injuries, and angst. no actual description of being jumped

↳ notes: could be interpreted as romantic or platonic. had trouble trying to nail all of them down, so i hope i did them justice. reblogs and comments and greatly appreciated

↳ song: blue moon (take five)—elvis presely

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐒𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩

• It's mid-day when he stumbles in from a long morning of working on cars down at the DX with Steve. Grease is all along the skin of his hands, and a different kind can be seen slicking back his hair, but that's nothing a hot shower can't fix

• He was on his way to do just that, enjoying the for once empty house as he did so, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw you splayed out on the couch

• You were so still his first thought was that you were taking a nap. But once Soda looked closer, he quickly realized you were doing anything but sleeping

• "Hey there Soda." You slurred with a careless grin, elevating your head the best you could to keep blood from dripping into your eye; the likes of which was already beginning to swell an angry red color

• It was clear to Soda what had happened. Everyone in the gang had been jumped once or twice, the more minor ones resulting in a fist fight or two while the bigger fights ended up with scars like Johnny had, and he could tell this was one of the latter

• "Good glory."

• Soda immediately dropped everything to take care of you. Or, when you wouldn't let him fuss over you, insisting you were fine (you were not), he goes out of his way to keep an eye on you. The only times he leaves your side on the couch is to bring you some rubbing alcohol and a bandage for the open wounds

• Turns into such a mother hen. Even after getting a closer look at your injuries, which turned out to be less troubling than he had expected, he still refuses to leave you alone

• "What were you doing walking in that part of town?" He throws his hands in the air as you finally explained where you'd gotten jumped. "You know we ain't liked much there, man."

• You grunted with a mix of pain and annoyance as you sat yourself up more. "Yeah, well I wasn't exactly expecting to get jumped in broad daylight on a public street now, was I?"

• He supposes that's a fair point, but won't admit it. Especially not while your skin is turning various shades of the rainbow

• After that day he always makes sure to remind you not to walk anywhere soc's are known to hang. It even goes as far as him suggesting he could draw you a map, to which you respond by reminding him that you'd lived here just as long as he had and could walk by yourself thank you very much

• "At least make sure you carry a blade or something, yeah?" He practically begs you, all the while staring at the small scar that swiped across the beginning of your hairline. A memory of when you had been stupid enough to get into a fight you knew you wouldn't win

• "Yeah yeah whatever Soda." You puff, promising him that if anything like that ever happens again you won't hesitate to call him or one of the other guys

• He might be a bit overbearing, but by god does Soda love you, so don't you go getting beat up on now

𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲

• This was before he had gotten tag teamed on the way back from the movies, so frankly, when Ponyboy finds you leaning against a brick wall downtown with your head all but limp against it, he thinks he's found a dead body

• Pony is just about to nervously pass it when he notices your shoes—the exact same type he'd seen you wearing the last time you'd met up with him

• Has no idea what to do at first. He'd never seen anyone other than Johnny look like this after getting jumped, and the other boy had been crying. You were just laying there. He supposed that if he had been you, he would have been hollering for his brothers by now

• Doesn't freak out. That's not in his nature. Instead, Pony kind of just stares at you for a moment before walking over and shaking you. Perhaps with a bit more force than nessicary

• Despite his gift with words, Pony couldn't describe the relief that washed over him when he opened his eyes even if he wanted to

• "What happened?" He says your name with an underlying quiver to it, eyes darting around your shoulders as he looks at bruises and cuts. Nothing serious he hopes, but it's hard to tell in the moonlight. If he squints his eyes hard enough, he thinks he sees purple marks in the shape of fingers around your neck

• Sure enough, when you speak your voice is a little wheezey

• "What does it look like?" You cough, throwing your head back against the wall with enough effort that Pony hears a crack. "Owch. Forgot that was there."

• He isn't sure if your asking him about your face, or talking about the brick wall. Either way he wouldn't know what to say, so he just responds by standing up and bringing you with him

• Ponyboy feels about as young as he looks when the two of you first start walking down the dimly lit streets, but by the time he's close enough to see the lights of his house, he swears to himself that his muscles would've given out if the walk had been another block longer

• His brothers, and whoever else happens to be over at the house at the time, mostly take over once he manages to pry the screen door open with his free hand and toss you inside. Pony stands by as they make sure you'll be okay, occasionally making use of his hands by bringing you water or disinfectant

• He tries to skip school the next day to stay home with you and make sure you sleep alright, but is sent off anyways when Darry vetos that idea before he could even fully suggest it

• He's real eager to get home all through the school day, and is glad when he walks in on you sitting in his kitchen that afternoon, rubbing at the spots on your neck as you eat a meal Darry managed to scrounge up for you

• Let's just say Pony is always the first to ask you to be safe when you go out alone after that

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲

• If this is Johnny before he himself gets jumped, then you're getting a very concerned friend questioning you in a soft voice as he tries not to look at your injuries too much. He knows that he hates it when people stare at him after his dad hits him, so he attempts to offer you the curtosy he never got

• Post beaten Johnny though? He's a nervous wreck

• It's even worse if he finds you before you find him. His first thought is that the people that did this to you might still be around, and he's ashamed of himself for wanting to run away. Later when he confesses that train of thought to you, you reassure him he's fine and that anyone would have done the same thing, but he still gets an icky feeling in his gut anytime he thinks about it

• Assuming that you manage to stumble upon him first though, Johnny knows what to do and how to do it. It's almost sad that he knows the exact way to deal with a situation with this, but seeing as it happened to him not too long ago, it's not exactly a surprise

• He can't stop himself for looking for signs of ring indents on your face as he wipes blood off your face with shakey hands. His gaze is so intense that even through the pounding in your head you can tell what Johnny's thinking

• "It wasn't the same guys." You croak out. Johnny is momentarily startled at your words and turns as if to move away before hesitantly returning to the task at hand

• "Oh." His voice cracks. "Good."

• After making sure you're no longer bleeding, or at the very least hurting with every breath you take, he calls Ponyboy up first thing. It's the only other person he immediately thought of in the moment, and can't remember a time that he was more greatful then when Pony shows up to help him

• The two boys eventually tell everyone else, but that night Johnny relived every bad moment he's ever experienced all in one, and doesn't know that he'd have been able to deal with that if Pony or you hadn't been there; even if you were beaten black and blue

• Sometime later Johnny realizes that he'd been jumping at little things less and less, and a small part of him wonders if going through that with you that one night helped him to overcome some of his own fears. Even if by a little bit

• The thought it is comforting

𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬

• Red light filtered through the bar windows as you stumbled up rickety steps to knock on an equally as rickety door

• Your teeth chattered in the night despite it being in the middle of summer, mustering the most genuine smile you could as the entrance eventually opened

• "Dallas here?" You asked the man in the door with a poorly disguised groan

• Whatever would have happened next was promptly cut short at you felt your throat tighten. With a lurch in both your stoumach and your body, you leaned forward to vomit straight on Buck Merril's boots

• "Urgh. Oops."

• Buck didn't even bother to growl at you or go look for Dallas before snatching you inside. If it had been a busier night, or if he had liked those boots more, he might have done either of those things. Or just straight up left you to sit on that doorstep until morning

• But Buck knew just by looking at you that you were in no condition to be left alone, and that Dallas would kill him if one of his friends died on his doorstep

• The bartender forwent knocking on Dallas' door before busting it open. He only had time to hope that his friend wasn't hooking up with anyone before stomping in, your dazed figure trailing behind him

• Thankfully it was just Dallas in the room. Just a pissed, shirtless looking Dallas. The way he shot up from in his bed made Buck think he had been trying to get some sleep and failing

• "They showed up looking for you. Let me know if you need to phone the hospital." He mummbled before slamming the door on the way out. Dallas barely had time to ask what in the fuck he was talking about before you planted face first on the foot of his bed

• Later he would be annoyed that you got bloodstains all over his sheets, but in the moment he was more focused on your ripped clothes and skin littered with flecks of glass and gravel

• "Got any bandaids Dally?" You ask with a dry tone, the joke falling flat at he threw the covers off of himself. Part of them landed on your head over at the other end of the bed, and he rushed to move then away

• "Shit— uh, hold on." Was all he could manage. You took it upon yourself to cautiously crawl up against the wall, mindful of the way your body screamed at you to stop as you did so

• Dallas finished russeling through one of his dresser drawers— the very same one that he would later go through to give Ponyboy and Johnny his gun after their late night misshap —coming back to you with a sunbleached cloth in hand and some pills

• "Hold that wherever its bleeding the most." He said gruffly. "And take these."

• "What are they?" You swallowed them without waiting for his answer

• "Hangover pills. The only sort of medicine Buck has here that isn't white and powdery." Dally leaned far back from you for a moment to scan your available skin, eyes lingering on the way you winced everytime your stoumach moved in the slightest

• "Got me there the worst." You noticed his looks and chose to talk through your urge to hurl again. "Still feels like the winds been kicked out of me."

• "Soc's?" Is all he asks

• You shake your head. "No. Some other greasers. Picked a fight with them last week. I won and forgot all about it. Didn't realize that they were that ticked off about it."

• Dallas resisted the urge to scoff at you, and it must have shown on his face; if the way you laughed said anything

• "Glory Dallas Winston, can you judge me later when I'm not bleeding all across your buddies floor?"

• "Sure sure." He waved, eyebrows furrowing

• He finds himself wishing later that you had gone to Darry or even Steve for help with this stuff. He isn't the best at dressing wounds, even if he's had lots of practice on himself, and knows better than most that his bedside manner isn't exactly the best. When you're not wincing or dry heaving in a bout of pain, the two of you are bickering

• "Anymore tighter, and my fingers will be likely to fall off, Dal." You gripe at him as he wraps a bandage around your knuckles with an air of carelessness, even if he was feeling anything but that

• "Shut up."

• For the love of everything good don't ever do this to him again. Dallas has no idea how to be soft with people, and he isn't sure offering you a cigarette right after disinfecting your wounds is the best way to go about it

• You accept the unusual gift anyways, shaking your head with a smile as you do so

[sodapopwrites]

the first sign of fall chapter four: you said no attachment

college au, the inner circle boys and the reader are bartenders.

pairings - eris vanserra x reader, a teensy bit of azriel x reader

summary - talking things out seems impossible, so you give up and do exactly what you shouldn't. you, azriel, and eris seem to never be able to find a way to communicate or to tell each other how you feel.

word count - 3.2k

a/n - man. i'm sorry. i love making things go horribly wrong. i swear things will work out at some point, but right now everybody has to be sad and afraid otherwise it's too easy. ALSO thank you to everyone who is showing so much support for this series. like i wish i could buy you all cookies or something.

read the rest of the series here!

You push your way into the locker room slowly. It’s filled with steam, curling its way from the showers, around the lockets, pooling at your feet. Almost like it was reaching you, pulling you towards him. You hear the steady stream of water against tile, broken only by the body under it. He wasn’t facing you. His back taught and head down, letting the scolding water stain his hair darker. 

“Eris?” 

Your voice was wavering and unsure. Your feet moving from side to side, fingers fiddling with the sleeve of your jacket. He straightened, his head raising, his entire body stiffening. Hackles up. The water turned off. He reached for the towel hanging on the wall next to him and wrapped it around his waist before turning around, towards you, but not looking at you. He traipsed across the room to his bag and started rifling through it for his clothes. His only acknowledgement of you, a small sniff as you sighed. 

“Please talk to me” 

It was the closest thing to begging he’d ever heard from you. Those four words drenched in desperation that was so out of character that his eyes snapped to yours. He shook his head, 

“I don’t have anything to say.” 

You take a deep shuddering breath. Trying to think what he wants from you. Scraping every corner of your mind for the right thing to say. You come up empty. You study his face, the cut on his lip, his forehead. The bleeding had stopped for the most part, but a garish bruise was starting to form on his cheekbone. You take a tentative step towards him. He doesn’t move an inch, almost as if he’s frozen. A deer in headlights. His eyes don’t leave yours as you draw closer and raise a hand to brush your fingers over the welt now blossoming under his skin. His eyes flutter closed and it takes all of his effort to lean away from your touch instead of into it. 

“Don’t” A small warning. Enough to force you a couple steps back. “I don't think I can do this. I meant it.” 

You shake your head vehemently, “Please don’t say that. Please. You want to talk? Let’s talk. You can’t just decide you’re done. There’s two of us in this Eris.” 

“You want to talk? Talk then.” 

He stares at you. His face completely unreadable. Cold in a way that it never had been before. His eyes always sold him away, always carried all of his feelings, like a window straight to his heart. But now, looking at them, you couldn’t see a thing. The only other person who ever managed that kind of mask….was Azriel. 

“I didn’t mean to blame you.” It was a lame response. You knew that. But you continued anyway. “You were hurt, and you'd gotten into a fight with Az, and I was worried, and lashed out.” 

He didn’t say anything. Small droplets of water rolled down his chest. His hair was tousled and damp. The heat of his body contrasting so harshly with the cool air, that small wisps of steam curled from him. It would have been a beautiful sight, if the look on his face didn’t scare you quite as much as it did. 

“Who were you really worried about?” His voice was low and calm. Horrifyingly calm. 

“Both of you.” 

It was an honest answer. Just not the one he wanted to hear. 

“I’m tired. I’m tired of being a second choice. I’m not something you can keep in your backpocket. I l-” 

He shook his head. As if the last couple words got stuck in his throat. He couldn’t say them. Not like this. Not when he was looking at you, draped in a jersey that wasn’t his, your eyes so desperate and pleading. I love you too much. That’s what he wanted to say. What he couldn’t say. Not when all he could think about was Azriel, and all those unspoken feelings. 

“You’re not.” 

That’s all you could say. Choking down the tears that you wanted to cry. You couldn’t cry. Not like this. You wouldn’t let him see that. It was too pathetic. Too desperate. 

He stared at you. Blankly. Mind reeling. You were on the brink of tears. He could see it plain as day. Just cry. Show some emotion. Any emotion. He wanted to yell it at you. Beg you. At least the tears would prove that this was more than nothing. But you didn’t. You just stood. Like looking at him was the most painful thing you could possibly be doing. 

He thought of Azriel. He had heard the two of you yelling before he had retreated to the showers, hoping that the water would drown out the sound of it. He didn’t want to hear what was being said. Didn’t need to hear more of Azriel’s opinions on him. 

He thought of the way that Azriel had years of history with you. The way he’d seen you cry, something you’d refuse to do in front of him. The way Eris had watched your eyes drift off into some far away thought and had your eyes snap back into focus, on him. Azriel had your embrace in moments of panic, a comfort and a quiet that you floated towards. A solace and hiding place you looked for. You never seemed to grow tired of him the way you grew tired of others. Azriel would have you for lifetimes and Eris didn’t want to be a footnote in that story.

“I just need time to think.” That was all he could think to say before finally pulling a shirt over his head. And turning away from you. 

“I’m scared of what that means.” 

He shook his head. He couldn’t look back at you. One right word from you and he’d cave. He’d give you anything you wanted no matter what it did to him. Your voice hit him again, like a bullet, 

“I’m scared it’s going to take you years to think, and figure it out, and I’m scared of what it’ll do to me.” 

He pulled his pants on and sat down to lace his shoes. Still refusing to look at you as he said the first thing that came to mind, 

“Well you always have Az to wash away whatever guilt you're feeling. I said it before. I’m done, so why don’t you go cry to him?” 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw your jaw set. The small nod of your head. It was the wrong thing to say. But he was begging you to prove him right. Begging you to do something to prove to him that he wasn’t what you wanted. 

You felt weak. Like your knees were about to buckle. Like every horrible thing you ever thought about yourself was right. It didn’t matter how much you cared about him, you never were able to find a way to make that clear. Could never just say it. Could never really figure it out. But he was right and that was the worst part. You fled from the locker room as quickly as you could while still holding onto a shred of dignity. The tears you had choked down rising like a violent tide. Tearing through your every nerve. Your whole body felt like it was burning, like the loss of him might actually consume you. Alone again. You couldn’t stand it. 

★ ★ ★ 

You shouldn’t have done it. But you weren’t thinking, completely on autopilot as you drove, as you walked up the steps, as your arm raised and knocked on the door. Your eyes still glistening, your cheeks red, and your body shaking lightly as the door opened slowly. 

Azriel. 

His eyes flashed with confusion, his hand going to run through his hair before leaning against the door frame as he took you in. Your jacket is gone. His jersey hanging off you. You looked wrecked. Terrified. So clearly the conversation with Eris didn’t work out and here you were. Like you always were when you lost something. 

“Is Cass home?” 

Your voice was shredded. Hoarse and devastated. The mask of cool collection you usually aimed for completely lost now. He shook his head slowly as he pulled the door slightly more ajar. 

“You want to talk?” 

You sniffled and curled your arms around yourself, “No. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to think.” 

“So…What do you want?” 

He knew exactly what you wanted. He just needed to hear it straight from your bitten red and raw lips. 

“I don’t want to be alone.” 

A whisper. A small admission. Almost a question. 

He held out an arm and you pulled yourself into his embrace too easily. Your arms immediately circling around his neck. He leaned down to pull your legs around his waist and carried you across the threshold. Closing the door behind him. His fingers bruising against your thighs. Like he wanted his fingerprints embedded in your skin forever. His lips never leaving yours as he walked towards his room. As he lowered you to his bed. Only pulling away to peel your clothes off slowly. To press open mouthed kisses against your neck as he let his hands roam. His pace slow and deliberate, as if every small claim of his lips was a victory. 

It was. A small victory. He’d have you for lifetimes, maybe only like this, when he was needed to fill some emptiness inside you. But still. Others would have you for minutes at a time that in their lifespan would boil down to nothing. But he’d have you forever. A small form of revenge. 

He traced every path he thought Eris might have once marked as his own. Neither of you saying a word. Both of you ignoring the tears streaming down your face. Azriel only pausing once to wipe them away with a brief brush of his thumbs and soft shushing from his lips, before he sank his teeth into the crook of your neck. The force behind it bruising and almost angry. Like he wanted it to hurt. Like he wanted you to remember that feeling in the morning. Like he wanted you to remember that other men would have your adhd driven drifts of attention, your accolades and commendation. Your fantasies and broken form of love tainted remedies to draw out seconds on a timesheet. Your short term hyperfocus. Your false forms of naive intimacies. Your fleeting fingers through their hair when they bend their heads to you. Your anger when they don’t live up to the image you’ve built in your head. 

You closed your eyes. Letting him take the lead. You didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to do anything, but feel him. Because that was the easiest thing you could possibly do. The easiest way to not be alone. 

Azriel reveled in it. Your attention when convenient. Your gaze when you thought he was too lost in his movements against you. The way he could still feel your anger from earlier bubbling under the surface, and the way that it didn’t matter now. The way that you had still come to him. The way that he was always right. The way that the little jersey stunt had worked exactly in his favor. The way he always managed to do exactly what you wanted. The way your nails raked across his shoulder blades and you let out a choked sob. 

He’d let you right to it. Something to be angry about again. The one thing you wanted. The one thing you never wanted Eris to see. The one real thing you were. Angry and afraid. Afraid of everything you had ever felt. 

A small form of revenge. 

He held you close to his chest after. He knew you’d leave. Just like you had done before. Just like you did every time something too intimate, no matter what the scale, happened between the two of you. You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. You’d stopped crying, but by the way you were breathing he knew you still wanted to. So he held you tighter. 

★ ★ ★

You left while he was still asleep. Seven in the morning. Guilt rippling through your entire body. Eris expected the worst from you, so you did the worst thing you could think of, and it felt good. That was the worst part. You closed Azriel’s door as quietly as you could and turned around, immediately met with Cassian’s hulking form leaning against the wall of the hallways. His arms crossed and his eyebrow raised. Your eyes widened. Since when has he ever woken up this early? 

“Again?” 

You didn’t respond. Heading for the door shaking your head. He stepped in front of you, blocking your exit. 

“Why?” 

His voice was a whisper, but the question hit like he was shouting. 

“I didn’t know what else to do.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as you said it. 

“You look like you just had a death in the family or something. That’s not how you should look after hooking up with someone. This is…this fucking sadness that you get from Eris….Even Az can’t fix that.” 

You look at him now. He was wrong. Of course he wanted to blame Eris. Why wouldn’t he? 

“It’s not Eris that made me….” 

You trailed off and Cassian inhaled deeply. Finally getting it. Whatever you and Azriel had going on…hurt you just as much as it hurt him. A mutual form of self destruction. 

“So why did you do it?” 

Azriel’s door opened now. You didn’t hear it. Didn’t notice that Azriel had finally woken up and was watching intently as you responded, 

“Because Azriel….” You push Cassian out of the way and reach for the door, “Eris makes me weak.” 

You close the door behind you and Cassian flinches at the sound of it clicking shut. His eyes looking towards his friend now. Azriel looked like he’d seen a ghost. Eris makes me weak. The only way you could think to say that you were in love with him. The only way you could find to express that the feeling scared you so deeply that you went back to something you, and everyone else, had so adamantly ignored for years. It was almost like falling in love with Azriel and wasting it had turned you into something cold. Something accidentally cruel. 

Cassian sighed and shook his head. The disappointment coming off him in waves. Azriel unsure which one of them that disappointment was really directed at. Cassian watched him, he looked small, and unlike himself. He thought of the years Az had spent chasing whatever had happened between the two of you that one night. Like he was so desperate to prove that he was capable of love. Like having you in any small form would make him better at it, like doing whatever he could to keep you away from other people, and bring you back to him. Would prove that he could love someone. Like letting you in last night and fucking you while you cried was a testament to how much he was willing to ignore. Maybe that was what he thought love was. Ignoring all the bad and taking you anyways, under any condition, nevermind who your heart really called for. 

“You’re just a glutton for punishment aren’t you Az?” 

That was all Cassian said as he turned back to his room and shut the door sharply behind him. Leaving Azriel to stand alone in the morning shadow soaked hall. 

★ ★ ★

Eris’ apartment felt empty. Without your laughter. Without you sitting at his kitchen counter biting your nails and complaining about whatever class was pissing you off at the moment. 

He sat alone in his living room. Your sweater still draped over the back of the chair he crashed into. His eyes falling on the plants you had lined up against his windowsill while muttering something about lifeless male living spaces. The notes you had written him stuck to his fridge. The books you had left scattered across his coffee table. The pair of shoes you placed next to his by the door, shrugging, and saying it’s good to have a spare. Almost every inch of his apartment screamed your name, and begged for your return. 

He remembered the ice in your stare as he told you to run back to Azriel. The kind of cold he could never warm. The set determination of your walk as you strode away from him. He knew exactly where you were right now. He knew that you had done exactly what you told him to, and he couldn’t even find it in himself to blame you. He should have just talked to you. Should have made it clear to you that he wanted everything. That he was all in. That he didn’t care about the fact that you were scared, he could see it clear as day. He’d seen it since you started seeing each other. The way that you were so terrified that the second you admitted how much he meant to you, he’d leave. 

It wasn’t like you made your affections a secret. You had decorated his apartment. You had spent all of your free time with him. You had held him so tight at night that sometimes he wondered if you thought that if you let go he’d slip away, or fade away. You had given him annotated book’s, highlighting lines you thought he might like. Had sent him playlists and pictures of things throughout the day that reminded you of him. Had wrapped your arms around him lazily and pulled him away from his computer whispering you have to stop being such a workaholic. The closest you let yourself get to exhibiting how much you worried about him. You had made it as clear as you could. 

But he could’t wipe the image of Azriel’s smirk as you had yelled at him what the fuck is wrong with you? Like your outburst was some sort of victory. Like shadowsinger had won. Like getting Eris to fight him was exactly what he had hoped for.

He remembered the way that Azriel went slack under him as they fought, the way he had let Eris throw punch after punch and seemed almost elated as blood spilled from his mouth. Like the blood would stain your hands and force you into remembering what and who really mattered. And maybe it had. 

Eris sighed and stood from his chair. Sleep. He needed sleep. But when he laid eyes on his bed, the sheets rumpled and blankets a mess. He thought of you that morning. Refusing to wake up, quietly calling for him to come back to bed, telling him to stop answering emails and come kiss you awake. The way he’d obliged and reveled in your warmth, and your smell, and the soft graze your fingers across his skin. He should have stopped you from leaving. 

I’m scared it’s going to take you years to think, and figure it out, and I’m scared of what it’ll do to me.

He should have told you. I love you too much. But he didn’t and now he’d have to suffer the consequences. Maybe that was what he deserved. Maybe he thought, this is what happens when he let himself fall in love with someone. When he let his walls down. When he let someone into his space. 

taglist:

@tiredsleepyhead @rosewood-cafe @kristijenner19 @becstersworld @girlwhoreadseverywhere @iambored24601

@the-sylver-dragon @scarsandallaz @fairydustblossom 

@theflowerswillbloom 

@theflowerswillbloom @melsunshine @mad-katsuki @lilylilyyyyyy @blueeeeeshark

@redr0sewrites

[acesofspadess]

My Angel

Lando Norris x Black!VS Angel!reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff

a/n: why was this actually so cute???

yourusername posted to their stories!

Replies:

Landonorris: I love you so much! Will be watching from my hotel room!

Alexsandrasaintmleux: so proud of you! 🪽

Rebeccadonaldson: 🪽 🪽 🪽

Lilyzheimer: you’ll be amazing!

Danielriccardo: don’t fall

Maxfewtrell: you’re going to hate me

“Hi, baby!” You smiled widely looking at Lando throught your phone. “Hi, love!” He smiled wider at hearing your voice. “Did you get my flowers?” He asked and you nodded, flipping the camera to show him the pink tulips that were wrapped in a beautiful paper. “I’m sorry I can’t be there baby.” He sighed sadly, but you shook your head. “Don’t be sorry, we both have priorities, but I will see you as soon as this is over right?” She promised him. “Yeah, you will.” He said before there was a lot of shouting and flashing lights coming from his picture. “Lando? Where are you?”

“Sorry, baby, Have to go! Love you!”

Maia stared at her phone as the call ended. “Okay then.” She set her phone down as her glamsquad chuckled. “That boy.” Elliot– your makeup artist- laughed. He was apart of your personal glam squad and was there with you at almost every event you went to. “He’s something alright.” You laughed.

“We are backstage with Y/N L/N! This is so exciting! Her Debut Victoria Secret Fashion Show! How do you feel?” Tefi asked you and you screamed lightly. “I am so excited!” You said straightaway. “As you said it’s my first time ever doing Victoria Secret. It’s just going to be fabulous. I just can't wait to walk with all the icons. I have wings!” You said breathlessly in shock.

Tefi laughed at your dramatics. “That’s always been a dream of mine so…” You bit your tongue excitdley. “Wait, give me a hint about your wings.” Tefi asked quietly. “Ooh- um…” You thought, “Big and shiny.” You concluded. “Oooh, okay, okay. Are there going to be any familiar faces in the crowd?” She asked and you smiled.

“My parents are here, which is exciting, but it is a race week so that group will not be here.” You said with a frown that Tefi also shared with you. “I know Lando is cheering you on though!” She said happily. “I’m sure he is. He’s my biggest supporter and I love him.” You smiled. “Well, last but not least. What would you say to anyone who wants to become a Victoria Secret model?”

You thought about it before answering. “Well, I am here for being authentically myself. That’s something every angel should know. Be yourself and do what you love. You are gorgeous just as you are. Never be afraid to be yourself, just because no one has ever been you before, doesn’t mean you can’t be. Never forget how gorgeous you are!” You pointed to the camera with a wink. 

On the pink carpet: 

"Wow! Such a large group we have here!" Olivia, the interviewer, said with a chuckle as the camera panned over the smiling faces of Lando and his friends. The drivers and their partners were all dressed to the nines, their presence drawing plenty of attention as they gathered on the pink carpet.

Lando grinned and rubbed the back of his neck, his excitement barely contained. "Yeah, I guess we brought the whole gang out tonight!" he laughed. "It’s not every day we get to surprise Y/N like this, so we thought, why not go all out?"

Olivia beamed at the group. "I love that you all made the effort, especially during race week! It’s not exactly a light time for you all." She raised an eyebrow playfully. "So, Lando, whose idea was it to pull off this surprise?"

"Honestly, it was a bit of a team effort," Lando admitted. "We all knew how much this meant to Y/N, and she was kind of bummed when she thought none of us could make it." He glanced at Max F. , who gave a knowing nod. "I was always going to come and surprise her, but I think it was Lewis who actually threw out the idea for all of us to come, but once it was in the air, we all just jumped on board. We coordinated our schedules, got permission from the teams—some logistical magic had to happen," he added with a chuckle. "But it was so worth it."

Olivia tilted her head, intrigued. "Y/N has no idea you guys are here, does she?"

Lando shook his head. "Nope, not a clue," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I facetimed her from the car, hoping she would think I was headed to the hotel.” He laughed. “She’s gonna be so shocked when she sees us in the audience." There was a hint of affection in his voice as he spoke. "She’s worked really hard for this, and I just wanted to make sure she knew how proud we all are of her."

"That's incredibly sweet," Olivia commented. "It’s clear there’s a lot of love and support in this group. And with so many of you here, it’s almost like a little F1 family reunion."

"Yeah, it kinda feels that way!" Lando agreed, glancing around at his friends. "It’ll be fun to see how Y/N reacts—though I’m not sure if she’ll be more excited or nervous seeing all of us watching her!"

The other drivers chuckled, sharing a look that showed just how much they enjoyed being part of the surprise. Olivia smiled warmly at Lando and the group. "Well, I have a feeling she’s going to love it. I can’t wait to see the moment she spots you all out there."

Lando’s grin widened, a mix of anticipation and pride in his expression. "Neither can I. It’s going to be a night to remember, that’s for sure."

The runway:

As you stepped onto the runway, the lights catching the metalic of your wings, you felt the excitement pulse through you. Each stride was powerful, confident, the rhythmic click of your heels drowning under the live performance and the cheers from the crowd surrounding you. But then, amidst the applause and flashing cameras, a familiar sound catches your ear—voices cheering just a little louder than the rest. 

You glance to your left, and there they are—Lando standing and clapping- and the entire crew, clapping from their seats, grinning from ear to ear. Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn't miss a step. Instead, you let a playful smile dance across your lips, keeping your gaze fixed on them as you waved with both arms to the audience, but your group knew it was for them. 

As you reached the end of the runway, you paused and struck your final pose, arching your back ever so slightly to accentuate the curve of your wings, hands resting on your hips. You held the pose, eyes glancing at all the strategically placed cameras. 

Turning on your heel, you began the walk back, your steps just as graceful as before, the cheers still ringing out. You take one last look over your shoulder at the crowd—at them—before disappearing backstage, your heart racing with exhilaration.

landonorris posted to their story!

yourusername posted to their story!

When the show had ended you were throwing your final items in your bag as someone wrapped their arms around you. “Aah!” You screamed through laughter knowing exactly who it was. “Lando!” You scolded gently as he put you down. “Did you really think we would miss this?” He asked his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “Well, yes.” You nodded your head and he laughed before leaning down to kiss you.

“Everyone’s outside waiting for you. Come on.” He grabbed your bag as you grabbed your tulips. “You did amazing tonight!” You both turned and saw the Hadid sisters coming up. “Thank you so much. That means so much to me.” You said mildly star struck. You ended up taking a picture with them, and then Adriana, Tyra, Barbara -who you bonded over being surprised by your significant others with- Jasmine, and Alex Cosani, who you had become very close with over the whole show period.

“You ready?” Lando asked you as you made it to the stage door. “Ready.” You nodded. As Lando opened the door many lights blinded you both. You waved to all the fans who were lined up outside. You signed a few photos and got a few pictures before you were running up to all your friends in a giant group hug.

“I can’t believe you guys did this for me.” You laughed as you all started walking away. “Of course we would come!” Alexandra said, laying a head on your shoulder. “Thank you all so much. It means the world to me.” Lewis came and wrapped an arm around her shoulder when Alex lifted her head. “I had to make sure we supported you. This was all my idea!”

“Hey!” They all laughed when they heard Lando.

Yourusername

liked by victoriassecret and others

What an unreal moment this was!!! ✨I've watched this clip the whole flight from NewYork to Austin and I'm still in awe. So much work and dedication went into this and I couldn't be prouder. Walking that stage alogside a group of the most incredible women, I carried my purpose with me representing you all✨

'just because no has done you before, doesn't mean you can't'

@/victoriassecret 🪽

Thank you to my lover- and Lewis- for coming out to surprise me!

View comments

landonorris My Angel 🪽

↳yourusername my lover

alexandrasaintmleux such an experience seeing you walk! 🪽

- yourusername my girlfriend!

-landonorris 🤨

-charles_leclerc just let it happen mate

rebeccadonaldson gorgeous girl! 🪽

-yourusername thank you for coming busy girl!

carmenmmundt you looked so amazing! 🪽

-yourusername i love you!

lilymhe so happy I got to watch you! 🪽

-yourusername I love you 

lilyzneimer you looked so pretty! 🪽

-yourusername I can’t believe you flew out just to see me, I love you

-oscarpiastri um, hello

-yourusername like I said, just to see me

kellypiquet So proud of you! 💖 P wore her wings from home

-yoursuername thank you mama! Tell P i love her!

francisca.cgomez Watching you walk was pure magic! Those wings were everything! 😍✨

-yourusername you are everything!

pietra.pilao Still can’t believe we got to see you shine like that! You’re an angel! 🪽

-yourusername I hadn’t seen you in forever! I’m so glad you came

leahkateb you were breathtaking! 💕

-yourusername 🩵🩵🩵 i love you!

-username4 Ariana?? What are you doing here?

serenapage The energy you brought to the runway was unreal!

-yourusername channelled my inner Serena 🤎

janacraig_  I can’t stop replaying your walk! You looked so confident and gorgeous! 😍

-yourusername from the Barbie herself 💗

gigihadid So glad we got to share the runway, gorgeuos! 

-yourusername omg!! thank you!

bellahadid You looked stunning! Can’t wait to walk with you again! 

-yourusername that would be a dream

alexcosani That walk was everything! So proud to call you a friend! 💞

-yourusername I’m so proud of us, love you bestie

jastookes You were meant to shine!

-yourusername learned it from you

realbarbarapalvin true VS angel! 

-yourusername omg! This is everything

adrianalima Loved walking with you! You inspired all of us! Keep being fabulous! Passing the crown to you

-landonorris she threw her phone across the room, please give her 5 minutes

-yourusername I love you! Thank you! You are an inspiration to everyone!

mclaren proud of you! permission to use? 👀

-yourusername permision very much granted!

username7 Y/N for model of the year anyone?

-landonorris i agree

landonorris

liked by yourusername and others

landonorris my forever angel 🪽

I am so proud of you baby. Thank you for choosing me to spend life with. To many more runways, I love you- Lan

View comments

username2 oh he loves her, loves her

yourusername I love you baby, thank you for always supporting me even when you have better things to do.

-carlossainz he almost turned the plane around when I told him we would have no time for golfing

-landonorris you will always be more important than golfing, shut up Carlos

maxfewtrell proud of you Y/N! It’s an honour calling you a best friend

-yourusername love you max!

maxverstappen honoured to be there!

-yourusername did you get a pink g&t?

-maxvertsappen i sure did

lewishamilton An honour watching you walk the stage. Can’t wait to see how far you go! 🤎

-yourusername Thank you so much for always supporting me!🤎

charles_leclrec enjoyed watching you walk!

-yourusername still upset you didn’t bring Leo😒

georgerussell63 everyone say thank you Lewis. Proud of you Y/N!

-alex_albon thank you Lewis

-pierregasly thank you Lewis

-maxverstappen thank you Lewis

-charles_leclerc thank you Lewis

-carlossainz thank you Lewis

-lewishamilton your welcome guys!

-landonorris 🙄

-yourusername thank you Lewis and thank you George!

oscarpiastri congrats big sis🥳

-yourusername the emoji shows you mean it 😊

carlossainz hermosa ángel

-landonorris are you trying to flirt with MY girlfriend

-yourusername he is a taken man Lando, thank you Carlito

-landonorris are you trying to flirt with HIM?

-username9 lando is fighting for his life

danielricciardo you didn’t fall!

-yourusername i hate you

hope you all enjoyed!!! my request are open if you want to see anything for any of the drivers on my master list!

[bellarkeselection]

Halstead’s Favorite Duo

Anonymous request - Can you do a Jay Halstead x reader, where they are married and she is part of the K-9 unit? Maybe they called her in or something to help chase down a suspect.

My boots hit the ground as fast as I could to keep up with my first best friend for I wish I could say my whole life. Yet I have only known this dog since I joined the K-9 unit that works with the Chicago Police Department. My German shepherd dog ran forward on the heels of the man that was running from us. The man we were after was a drug cartel that they had been hunting for months. “Ryder! Attack.” I commanded him before he launched himself through the glass store window.

The guy we were chasing tried to run to the back of the store but he tripped over a shopping cart giving Ryder the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. Stepping over the broken window glass I draw my gun from my belt pointing it at the guy. “Y/n, Ryder! Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, Jay. Ryder ain’t too bad at his job. Ryder, come here.” I smiled seeing my husband coming around the corner lowering his gun when he saw the situation.

Ryder snarled at the guy on the ground keeping his tail still when we were out in the field. Otherwise he would let it actually wag when he was happy. Jay bent down on a knee after putting his gun away, grabbing the guy off the floor and handcuffing him. “You’re under arrest for smuggling drugs across the border. Take him back to the station.” He handed him off to one of the other local officers.

“You did good, boy.” Dropping down on a knee in front of my dog he started moving his tail wagging it since it was just me and Jay alone with him. “So how much paperwork does this leave you with tonight. I can order take out if you want if you’ll be home later.”

He shakes his head walking back to one of the squad cars having me and Ryder following his heels like we did every morning when we all had to leave the apartment. “Hailey said she would take care of it. I actually had something else in mind.”

“Oh really. Care to share what you had in mind?” I smirked knowing that he wouldn’t give it up even if I asked the question but I did it anyway.

Jay sent me a glare. “It didn’t work on our first date and it still won’t work now.” I nudged him and he chuckled before Ryder barked signaling that he wanted into our conversation.

“That means he doesn’t want to be left out of whatever mystery thing you have planned. And you agreed to take me in every way that includes my doggy.” I responded to him.

Jay and I had gotten married a few years ago. I had just been promoted to chief of my unit. Vioet was the man to help me get it after he had seen my history with Ryder and the amount of cases we helped crack down compared to the other k-9 unit members. Jay opened the door letting my dog jump into the backseat shutting the door once he was in. We both got in the car and removed our bullet proof vests and he started the drive looking my way a few times. “Do you remember the day we met?”

“Of course I do. I got injured on an assignment and the doctors at the hospital your brother Will works at wouldn’t let Ryder inside my room. So he started losing it and breaking things. If it wasn’t for you I was sure Ryder would have bit Will’s leg.” I snorted running a hand down my face thinking back on that night.

Jay smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah but he and I have the same goal to protect you…and love you.”

“So where are we going exactly? I mean it’s kind of strange that you are asking about the day we met. We’re already married. What else could we possibly do?” I shifted in my seat bouncing up and down with the tension of waiting.

Jay didn’t stop the car for another few minutes, parking the car outside of a house that was painted a light blue on the outside and it had a gray roof. He let Ryder out of the backseat first before coming over to my side and helping me out. “The surprise is that this place is now ours.”

“Are you serious, Jay!” I gasped covering my mouth with my hands spinning around to face him since he was standing behind me.

He slipped the keys in my hands. “It’s our. I am not lying to you. I got it all set up a few weeks ago. That way we aren’t cramped in an apartment and this gives Ryder a space to run when he wants to.”

“I love you.” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him slowly.

Ryder barks running towards the front door just as Jay wraps his arms around my waist tugging me closer to deepen the kiss until he breaks it not being able to hold in his chuckle. “I love you too…and Ryder seems to approve.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[a-little-lostmoon]

some LU headshots in my style for personal reference. subject to change bc drawing consistently is a bitch but overall i think i’m happy w them! (ignore the comic/writing idea in the upper right corner it may or may not be made into a full think idk yet—)

typed notes for each lu member + a little extra below cut

wild—

oval eyes

rounder oval ((ish)) face

amber earrings

healed scarring

androgynous

i tried to reference the boys’ canonical character models to individualize their features more. i love botw and totk sm but personally i’m not the hugest fan of the way the characters look for it? even so, i think the rounder sort of eye shape works really well for my wild

his colors specifically i drew to be a bit more sunset kissed/orangeish bc i was referencing a wild photo in which the time was sunset. thats abt it. but i think it’s really pretty on him so i’m probably just keeping that whenever i draw wild

warriors—

cheek bones/jawline

rounder ears

pointy eyes ((eyeliner that could stab a person))

cheek scar bc i felt like it

i stole away some of wars’ side fringes, forgive me i couldn’t decide whether i wanted them to cover up his jawline and chickened out. if anyone actually read the comic thing you’ll see smth abt the old man and wars talking abt how his hair parted to the other side of his face during the war. i made it to ‘vent my frustrations’ bc i drew his hair part referencing HW photos of link instead of LU wars and it’s now become my headcanon.

his hair color is vivid bc HW color pallet is pretty damn vivid and his eyes & earrings are a deeper blue to match his scarf. color coordination!

anw he’s a pretty boy so i made him pretty — that’s pretty much the rest i have to say abt that

time—

tired eyes

longest ears

(slight) rbf

both time & legend have half circle/oval eyes ((kind of. at least that’s what i tried to go for to give them a more worn/serious look))

i’m not the best with differentiating ages. i tried to make him look a bit more worn/oldest but i also wanted all of them to still carry some of that classic pretty boy link look. don’t have much else to say but he has the longest/angular ears bc fairy boy. let’s pretend four’s don’t look longer than his i drew him later and forgot

twilight—

<-takes more features from malon ((who i haven’t drawn yet so you don’t have any reference on that))

pretty boy face (wasn’t intentional but it is what it is)

twilight princess link is v pretty. twilights usually one of the more rugged (for lack of a better term) looking ones bc he’s among the taller ones/apart of the “adult” squad but i accidentally made him very pretty looking. oops. don’t know if that will remain consistent for him if i draw him more so we shall see

him and time share less features than i might’ve wanted? you can see a bit of time’s jaw in the way his face curves but overall they don’t share many features. again, he takes more after malon. but their hair textures are incredibly similar if that means anything

gave him jade studs bc they reminded him of midna and are practical enough that he can just keep them in the whole time (bc he will lose them or forget abt them if he takes them off)

sky—

rounder face

big eyes

lips

big ears

his hair color was a bitch to get right im not sorry i had to say it color is so hard to work with. in any case! skyward sword link has bigger looking eyes cus of the style and i just ran w that. his earrings are magenta to match sun’s dress but look red when the light catches them right (or wrong ig bc they look red in dim light too) just bc i realized his earrings were red to match his outfit/crimson.

sky and the next three (everyone sans wind) probly look the least off their character models

legend—

oval iris

full rbf

multiple piercings ((this is important for u to know))

longer narrow face & features

boy’s a strawberry blond bc i said so. and also legend purple eyes propaganda. i don’t know where exactly that originated but like i love it and im on board. he also has purple stud earrings he always keeps in — curious, isn’t it. he probably has more than i gave him but well, thats all i gave him. it gets the picture across. hc that legend realized he couldn’t get more fingers for his rings but he could get more piercings that could handle jewelry that did almost exactly the same thing. practicality!

also i couldn’t decide on legend’s hair length. its all hidden by that hat of his so i just… didn’t draw the back half portion of his hair. does that make my legend bald at the back of his head? you decide.

hyrule—

wide face narrow chin

freckles!!!

bigger earlobes

the earlobes is me projecting /hj but i tried to reference the og link’s face shape for him which idk if i like yet. he has freckles and more accent colors in his hair and eyes which is a subtle thing but a sorta maybe reference to his fairy magic. no piercings for him! i forgot them/didnt see them on og link and can’t really imagine when hyrule would ever get the time to pierce them so he and wind can do that together eventually to bond. legend will do it probly — he obviously has the experience and wild can’t be trusted (offered to pierce winds ears with a knife canonically)

wind—

big eyes

void eyes

big ears but rounder than skys

soft face

fluffy hair

wind’s 100 yard stare *does* things to the chain but none of them tell him that because he’d definitely use it to freak people out. i couldnt decide between going lighter sun bleached hair wind or bright blinding yellow toon link hair so i kind of meshed them together to create that. tried to make him the youngest looking

four—

symmetrical angles ((and then i drew a polygon quadrilateral bc thats the shape i used as a reference)) for cheeks and eyes

minish feather ((earring))

minish ears & nose

hime bangs

yk the picture of a minish that comes up when googled? thats what i used as a reference for his features. ears specifically, nose somewhat. four’s eyes are usually the greyish hazel color you get from mixing all of their colors together but i liked the split look for this piece more. his hair color is also wind’s but inverted so wind’s lights are four’s highlights and his darks make up the brunt of the base color as a slight reference to how it’s occasionally theorized/hc that wind is four’s descendant.

and the hime bangs were bc i wanted a little more “link side fringe” variation and i thought the sort of straight cut looked nice. hime bangs are not the right term tho bc he parts them to the side and doesn’t have that straight cut on his forehead but i’m too lazy to fight the correct term

— thank u for reading, go hydrate and eat if you have not <3