#i may whine about it but it gives me a much needed sense of accomplishment

[agente707]

ive become....a gym bro

[dandylovesturtles]

The separated AU poll (@tmntseparatedaucompetition) featuring my AU "100 Feet and a World Away" along with "New Phone Who Dis" by @callmehere-iwillappear is TOMORROW. We're up against Life Mission: Empyrean Bloodbath so I fully expect us to lose lol BUT I did say last time if we tied with NPWD I'd give us the next part of the "April takes the boys' pictures" saga AND SO! here! is April taking Leo and Mikey's pictures!

Vote for us tomorrow (if you want to)! All of these AUs are absolutely incredible so whoever wins is fully deserving~ Regardless, I will try to finish the saga with Raph's picture + Splinter getting to see them as soon as I have time (though it may take a bit because I have... bitten off a bit more than I can chew lol, and I need to get some other things accomplished).

Anyway enough rambling HERE'S THE FIC:

~~~

"April!" calls Mikey the moment she walks in. He scurries across the plywood bridge from his rock to the edge of the pool and hops off the concrete separating wall, and hurries over, buzzing around her excitedly. "I'm so glad you're back!"

"Well I said I would be, didn't I?" April grins, fishing in her bag for the strawberries she's brought them. She gives two of them to Mikey, and watches as he shoves one in his mouth, smiling as he chews.

There's a splash and when she looks back, Leo is sitting on the containing wall, watching her like a hawk. She wishes she could hug Mikey, but she knows if she tried to so much as touch him, Leo would be on her in a second.

Something to work on, but not today.

"Let's get this over with," he says. "I got the info Donnie wanted."

"That's great! Good job, Leo!" she says. All she gets is a scowl in return, but she tries not to let it get to her. "But before we talk about that, there's something else I want to do." She pulls out her phone and waves it. "I'm gonna take your picture!"

"Whoa, really!?" asks Mikey, clearly excited, but before she can reply, Leo is inserting himself between them.

"No."

April has to take a breath to steady herself; she knows he doesn't want to hurt her, and she knows he's just a kid. But when he moves like that, stands over her and tenses his muscles and looks down over the top of his snout at her, she can sense how easy it would be for him to kill her, and her instincts tell her to run.

But April O'Neil doesn't run.

She exhales and speaks, voice steady. "Leo. I understand why you're concerned-"

"Do you?"

"-but I promise you, I'm not going to do anything bad with them. I just want to show them to your dad."

"Still saying you know our dad, huh?" he says, the suspicion clear.

"I do know your dad, Leo." She takes another deep breath and lets it out slowly. He has every right to be cautious, she reminds herself, even if this is eating into their time tonight. "Look, Donnie already let me take his picture. He trusts me not to do anything with it."

"Yeah, well Donnie-" Leo starts, but then he seems to remember Mikey is there, and drops it mid-sentence. Which is good, because April can handle Leo being a jerk to her, but if he started badmouthing his brother they would be having words. "I just... worry he hasn't thought it through," he fixes it to.

"But Dee's a genius, right?" says Mikey. "I bet he has. He probably has some way to make sure she can't do anything bad with the pictures!"

That's not true, or at least, April is pretty sure that's not true (she did give him the phone, though, so maybe...) but if believing that will help them be comfortable with this she won't correct them.

Leo hesitates again, and she can tell he's struggling with his doubt over Donnie's intentions and his self-held rule of trying to keep Mikey's opinion of his brothers positive. Apparently, the latter wins, because he sighs and folds his arms and says, "Fine. But you're only taking a picture of me."

"Awww, Leo, come on," whines Mikey, but Leo ignores him, staring April down.

April wants to argue, too, but she knows if she pushes, Leo will just refuse to have his own picture taken too, and they won't get anywhere. Furthermore, he has info Donnie needs - if he becomes completely uncooperative then she won't get that either.

Deciding to cut her losses, April sighs and nods. "Deal."

Mikey looks thoroughly unhappy, but Leo seems to untense just slightly at the agreement. "Okay. Let's get it over with, then."

He walks over to the wall where their scale and measuring devices are stationed and raises both of his arms the same way Donnie had. April bites back her second round of nausea tonight and shakes her head.

"Nope, not like that. We're gonna do something more natural."

It's easier in here without the fence to deal with. She considers for a moment, then nods at the pool and says, "Sit on the steps. I'll take your picture there."

"Ugh, fine." He moves to do what she says, flopping on the steps with an annoyed grunt. It's such a teenager thing of him to do that she almost laughs, but she quickly swallows it before he gets more annoyed with her.

"Great! Now... sit however you want to... yeah, that's fine," she says after he pulls up one knee and leans back on his arms. She pulls her phone up with the camera on, adjusts the framing, then says, "Fair warning, it's going to flash." He shrugs. "Now... do you want to smile?"

He thinks a second, and then he smiles - closed lips, no teeth, more of a wry smirk than a full smile. But the way he tilts his head as he does it is so natural.

She takes the photo. Then she gets in closer and takes another. Then she pulls them up to look them over.

Like with Donnie the lighting is dim, but Leo is still plenty visible, and April can't help but smile.

"Dang, Leo... I have to say, the camera loves you."

"Ooo, lemme see!" says Mikey, and April turns the phone so he can look. Immediately his eyes are sparkling as he leans in to see more clearly. "She's right. You look great, Leo!"

Leo is trying to look uninterested, but she sees through him in the way he approaches. She doesn't make him ask, just flips the phone screen his way so he can look, too.

He leans in, and she something appears in Leo's face that she hasn't seen since she's come to visit him. Something soft and vulnerable and wondering - something she's sure he'd never intentionally show her, but something in the photo has brought it out of him anyway.

"That's... me?" he says finally, like he doesn't believe it.

"That's you!" she says cheerfully, even as she's trying not to think about how sad that question is. Come to think of it, there are no mirrors in here, and any reflective surfaces would likely show them a distorted image - this might be the clearest way Leo's had to see himself in years. "Pretty handsome, right?"

Leo's eyes flicker up at her just a moment, then they go back to the picture. "Handsome..." he repeats, reaching up and running his finger over the markings on his face. Mikey is watching him, with an understanding in his eyes that seems way, way too old for a thirteen-year-old, and, not for the first time, April realizes he isn't as naïve as he acts.

Even though her time for the night is dwindling, April doesn't pull the phone back until Leo finally looks away. Almost immediately his expression is back to being as annoyed as ever, but she knows that's just a mask. One day she hopes he can take it off, but for now she lets him keep it.

"You said you took Donnie's picture, too," said Mikey. "Can we see?"

"Of course!" she says, and pulls up Donnie's selfies, picking her favorite to show them. "Here we go; I had to let him take these himself 'cause of the fence."

Mikey looks, his eyes going wide, and Leo comes to join him, something less open and more complicated in his expression.

"Look, Leo, he has the same color eyes as you!" says Mikey, pointing. "And a matching scar!"

Leo's fingertips brush over the scar on his face, but he doesn't comment on it. "We all have the same color eyes, Mikey."

"We do? Oh, oh, and look," he continues, barreling on without waiting for an answer, "he has purple markings on his arms! I think his snout's longer than ours, too."

"Yeah, guess so."

"And what's up with his shell? Why's it look like that?"

"He's a soft shell." Leo frowns. "You didn't remember that?"

Mikey blinks once, twice. "Uh, I think I did, actually. Uh, maybe." He's still staring at the photo, but April can see his eyes starting to get glassy. "I... maybe I knew that, but I never really thought about what it meant? I... I forgot what he looks like."

He sniffs, harsh, and then the tears start rolling. "Oh, baby," says April softly, while Leo just tucks Mikey under his arm.

"I forgot what my own brothers look like," Mikey says, his voice thick and wet. "I forgot... and if I forgot... I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry for," says April. She reaches out and puts a hand on his arm, glancing at Leo, but he doesn't do anything to stop her this time. Mikey hiccups at the touch but doesn't pull away. "What is it?"

"I just... did they forget what we look like, too?" He glances up at Leo, then sniffs again. "Will they even recognize us?"

April decides this isn't the time to bring up how it'd be hard to confuse them for anyone else, because, while true, it's not really the point. What she goes for instead is a different but still practical answer: she waves the phone at him.

"I'll show them the pictures, okay? So now they'll remember, too." She looks up at Leo again. "That okay with you, Leo?"

He jerks his head as he looks away from Mikey, and she can practically see the gears working while he comes to a decision. Much as April hates making Mikey cry, it seems it's worked in her favor.

Because Leo sighs, and says, "I guess if you're doing that you need to take a picture of Mikey, too."

Mikey's eyes go wide in surprise, before he sniffles loudly and then turns and jumps onto his brother, who holds onto him with a good-natured chuckle. "Thanks, Leo!" he says, his tears still trickling down his face, and Leo just sighs and pats his shell until he eventually stops.

April takes Mikey's picture, and he and Leo ooh and aah over it just as much as they had Leo's. She gets the information she needs, and gives a promise that she'll show the pictures to Donnie and Raph as soon as she can.

Raph... well, she's pretty sure he won't actually know what he's looking at. Honestly, April still isn't even sure if he can see.

But she knows Donnie is going to be ecstatic. She can't wait to show him.

[grayskies-2525]

An Admirable Denial | M/M | Part 13/14

Link to all parts: An Admirable Denial (14 parts)

Connor lies in bed, covers pulled up to his chin. He’s full of painkillers, tea, and chicken noodle soup. Felix lies in bed next to him, head resting on Connor’s chest while Connor threads his fingers through Felix’s hair. Ben and Felix’s mom left a couple of hours ago and now Connor can finally rest his aching head. 

Apparently Melissa and Ben had heard enough of Connor’s end of the phone conversation to discern what happened. Connor’s not surprised, since his voice had risen to unexpected levels. He’s paying for it now, though; he’s back to being able to speak exclusively in whispers. He’s fine with this development, in a way. He doesn’t have much more left in him to say. While he ate the soup Felix’s mom brought over, she told him about how she’d heard him defending Felix. She apologized for giving him a hard time over leaving Felix for a year, and recognized that she hadn’t known enough about the situation to make any kind of judgement. Connor had been too spent to offer anything more than a small smile as he ate his soup. 

Ben, to Connor’s displeasure, left the LEGO disaster on Felix’s living room floor, but Connor would expect nothing less from Ben. Connor figures he wouldn’t mind taking on the LEGO project, himself, when he starts feeling better. He’ll just need to convince Felix to let him tackle it alone because even after all their relationship has gone through, Connor doubts it will be able to withstand any more time building LEGOs with Felix. 

“Felix, you don’t have to lie here with me. You’re healthy — you shouldn’t have to be stuck in bed,” Connor murmurs, his eyes only half-open. 

“Stuck?” Felix says, as he shifts slightly to look up at Connor. Connor appreciates how softly Felix is speaking because even with the painkillers, Connor’s head is still pounding.“There is nothing about this positively lovely arrangement right now that makes me feel stuck.” Felix continues. “I am at peak coziness, babe. I mean, I’m all snuggled up and you’re so warm. I honestly could live in this moment for eternity.”

“Me too,” Connor says softly, letting out a sigh. “If all I focus on is this,” Connor says, dipping his head to place a gentle kiss to the top of Felix’s head. “And not ….” he trails off, the energy needed to complete the sentence simply non-existent. 

Felix lets out a wry laugh. “And not on the shitstorm that was our afternoon?”

Connor laughs softly. “Yeah, exactly,” he says into Felix’s hair. 

“Are you starting to feel any better?” Felix asks. “From your flu, I mean,” he quickly adds. “And not from… the, uh, the thing with your mom. That I imagine will take longer to recover from than any flu,” he says, a sad note to his voice.

Connor sniffs, experimentally. He finds that he’s back to being entirely stuffed up. He sighs. “I feel a little better, I guess,” he settles on saying, his voice still only barely above a whisper.

“Do you?” Felix asks, skeptically. 

“I… I don’t know. I guess maybe not, no,” Connor answers, finally.

Felix lets out a small laugh. “You know, babe, you’re allowed to complain. Like, really, I promise. You may find that sometimes it even helps.”

Connor considers this and feels his brows furrow. “I don’t see how complaining will accomplish anything,” he says as his mind fills with childhood memories of the many times he'd been told to stop "whining." 

Felix laughs again. “But it does. I mean, I don’t know why, but I always feel better afterward. Like, I don’t know… From an evolutionary standpoint, maybe it makes sense? Think about it.” Felix has started speaking at a faster pace — the way it does when he thinks he’s had an especially good idea. “I mean, humans live in communities and depend on others for continued survival… and well, we help each other, right? Like if someone is having a heart attack, and they just say ‘no worries, I’m fine, all is chill over here,’ then no one will know they’re suffering. And then no one will help.” 

Connor thinks about this, as he twirls a strand of Felix’s hair around his finger. “You do realize complaining about a stuffy nose doesn’t offer the same benefits as complaining about a heart attack, right?” he asks.

“Obviously, but… you know how human bodies are. Like, I think most things we feel and do have some kind of precedent, right? If I see a bear running toward me, my heart’s going to pound and I’m going to feel shaky because adrenaline is kicking in and it’s supposed to help me survive. But, of course, sometimes instead of a running bear, it’s just a waiter asking me what I want to order.”

Connor snorts. “I mean this in the most gentle way possible, but sweetie, what the hell are you talking about?”

There’s a long pause.

Connor can’t stop a full laugh from forming, then winces as coughs tear at his already sore chest. “Sometimes I really am astonished when I remember you’re a teacher,” he manages to say after his coughing settles down.

“No, no, no,” Felix says quickly. “I do have a point. It just got lost for a second. So, what I’m trying to say is this — our bodies have certain responses for specific situations, but things… well, they get out of hand sometimes. Adrenaline can help when it comes to, you know, bears. But our bodies sometimes can’t distinguish between threat levels. So sometimes we may have the same response to a bear vs. an intimidating waiter.”

“And this correlates to complaining, how?” Connor asks.

“Because complaining has a purpose, too, is my point. Like the heart attack example. But, similar to how our bodies don’t always identify the correct level of danger a situation poses,  they also don’t always know what’s necessarily worthy of complaining about.” Felix pauses. “Anyway, my entire point here is that complaining is a good thing. It’s something you’re supposed to do. I mean, to a certain degree, of course. And you’ve had such an objectively shitty day that I think complaining is a necessity at this point. So, Connor, I’m giving you permission right now to complain all you want.”

Even through his clogged sinuses, Connor’s nose manages to still run. Connor brings up his hand with his tissue up to wipe his nose. “Okay. Um, I’m feeling pretty sick, I guess.”

“Okay, that’s kind of a good start,” Felix says, sounding not wholly satisfied. “Let’s build from there. How exactly do you feel sick?” he asks.

“I — EHH’SHHffft! AT-SHhnnxt!” The sneezes are sharp and sudden, but Connor has just enough time to turn his head to the side to avoid spraying Felix. 

“Bless you, babe,” Felix says softly. “Those sounded rough. Do you perhaps want to complain about all the sneezing you’re doing? Because there is no way that feels good on your poor sore sinuses.”

“Uh, it really doesn’t,” Connor agrees. “When I sneeze I feel it in my entire head — including my ears. There’s just so so m-much HEHH’TSSHHT! Fuck, there’s just so much pressure everywhere. So sneezing just really hurts right now and hehhhh hhh I just can’t seem to go five min heh? Five minutes without doing it and AHHH-SHHffFT! Oh my god,” Connor groans as he dabs at his nose with a tissue. “And they’re not even helping. It’s like no air can heh heehh hhh HIT’TCHUUUH!” The sneeze is wet and productive, and Connor is thankful he captured it in his tissue. “Okay, uh, that one actually felt good, kind of. It’s much better when they just come out like that, instead of feeling all stuck inside my nose.” He pauses for a moment. “I think that last sneeze may have dislodged some stuff because I’m feeling really, really tickly. Oh god, yeah, okay, Felix hehhh hhhhhh hh m-m-move for a sec-hhhhh hheh! For a second,” he says, urgently. Felix quickly obeys, shifting away from Connor’s chest. 

Connor removes his glasses and holds five or six tissues over his mouth in nose as his chest heaves before he’s snapping forward. “HaaahhhH! HHH! HiIIIHH! HAAA-HAD’TCHUUUHHH! APT-CHUUUUUHHHH! AT’CHOOOOO! AP’CHUUHHH! ADT’CHUUUUHH!”

“Bless you,” Felix says from his spot next to him in bed. 

“Thanks,” Connor whispers, what little voice he had left disappearing after that fit. Connor blows his nose for what must be a full minute. Letting the sodden tissues fall to the ground, he leans his head against the headboard, closing his eyes. 

“Felix….” Connor says, the single word hurting his aching throat. “Yeah?”

“I’m so fucking sick,” Connor says, slumping his shoulders, feeling defeated.

“Oh, poor baby. I know,” Felix says gently, as he nestles up to Connor. Connor doesn’t even feel the slightest bit embarrassed by the evident pity in his voice. “You must feel terrible.”

Connor nods, and even that small gesture hurts. “And —” Connor stops before he finishes the thought, not sure what he really wants to say.

“And what?” Felix coaxes, softly. 

“And —” Connor takes a deep breath. “And I think I’m just really, really fucking sad. About my mom,” he says, hating the crack in his voice that he knows has nothing to do with his illness.

“Of course you are,” Felix says, giving Connor’s arm a gentle squeeze.

Connor lets out a few harsh, deep coughs. “And I think I have a lot that I need to process, you know? About my mom, and… Well, about Dad, too. And how I feel like I don’t really have parents anymore, and how maybe… uh, maybe I never really did? At least, not in the way a person’s supposed to have parents,” Connor says, his voice breaking again, as he feels tears sting his eyes. 

Felix says nothing, but Connor hears his deep intake of breath before he nestles even closer, resting his head on Connor’s shoulder. 

“And I know I should be processing these feelings,” Connor continues. “But, I’m just so sick, Felix. My head — god, my head. It just hurts so damn much, no matter how many painkillers I take. And my ears, and my nose…. Everything just aches and I can’t think straight,” Connor says letting out a frustrated sigh. 

“I know,” Felix says softly. “But it’s okay — to not process everything right now. All your feelings will still be there when you’re better. I think right now, the most important thing you can do is be sick — just spend the rest of the week in bed. No phone calls, no LEGOs, no moms, no Bens — nothing but rest.” Felix pauses for a moment before continuing. “And, uh, maybe a doctor if you don’t start getting any better.”

“And you?” Connor asks, a soft smile playing across his lips.

Felix lets out a light laugh. “Well, yeah. Of course, I’ll be here.. And Reggie. And Edna. Don’t forget about my children,” Felix teases.

Connor laughs, which leads to inevitable coughing. As the coughing starts winding down, he settles back down into bed, pulling the covers back over himself. Felix easily snuggles back up to him, as though he’d never left the position, his head back to resting on Connor’s chest. Connor spends a moment appreciating the silence and the warmth of Felix’s body snuggled up to him. He keeps his eyes closed as he listens to Felix’s soft breathing. The sound and comfort lulls him to a half-asleep state. 

“Why did I ever leave you?” Connor asks, his eyes still closed, his voice so quiet, he’s not even sure Felix will be able to hear.

“Because you didn’t know how to react to someone finally giving you the love you deserve,” Felix says, as though it were the most simple fact in the world. 

Connor doesn’t know quite what to say to that. Finally, he sighs and pulls Felix closer. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I know, babe. You don’t have to keep trying to convince me, okay?” 

Connor’s body is practically begging him to give in to the pull of sleep, so Connor kisses the top of Felix’s head gently before muttering a soft “okay,” before finally surrendering. 

Part 14 (epilogue)

[soul-dwelling-not]

I haven't gotten to the final episode of Caped Crusader yet.

But, gah, the amount of whining and nitpicking about this series--can people just enjoy a good thing?

Spoilers below.

The number of "this makes no sense in Caped Crusader" takes I have listened to should be helpful for appreciating the series by analyzing what works and doesn't work to appreciate how it accomplishes what it does and determine how to improve in future works--and instead come off as only, "I didn't like this" or "I'm nitpicking" or "Explain every last detail."

"Why so little of Babs, Harl, and Rene interacting?" I mean, sure, add more, but aside from being needed because we lack so much of that in larger pop culture, it wasn't strictly needed for their story--it was enough to keep the plot moving and pushing forward their character progression. Again, more would be great, I want more--but I don't need more when what we got was really good.

"Bruce invited everyone into that restaurant--but then he had them sit separate from him and Harv." …No? Bruce said something to the effect of, "All of your friends are here." How do you hear that line and think Bruce organized this event? No, he didn't--he meant, "This is a restaurant you and I go to all the time, we know the people who come here too, they are your friends, they see you around town all the time and in these social circles." How do you misunderstand that?

"Bruce was only manipulating Harv to get info out of him. I don't like how this Bruce doesn't care about Harv. Also, why didn't the story show more of the two hanging out before this point?" Episode 1, and the circus / carnival episode. Two episodes. I'm sorry that is not enough for you. The better question is, why did Harv have to go to Rupert Thorne for money instead of Bruce? That is a small detail that would have been great (maybe the final episode will answer it?), and it can be answered easily: Bruce didn't even give money to Lucius for his affordable housing plan--he's a bad friend, a bad citizen, a bad philanthropist, and a bad Batman. Leading to the next criticism…

"It's weird how Batman uses the Bruce persona as just another mask. Bruce in BTAS never did that." ... ... ...We're really ignoring how Kevin Conroy did completely different performances and voices initially for Bruce and Bats, aren't we? "In BTAS, Conroy did the same performance and voice for Bruce and Bats--" Oh my fucking God, we are actually ignoring that?! Jesus Christ, did you only watch Batman Beyond and Justice League Unlimited?

I want to circle back to "Bruce is just manipulating Harvey for information": yeah, this is not a likable Bruce. Duh. This is a series that is taking more out of Matt Reeves's The Batman in terms of saying "Batman sucks at being Batman": this isn't even that he's still a rookie at it like the 2000s animated The Batman, this is literally Bruce just not being a good dude--hoarding his money, rude to Alfred, missing warning signs, not trying to help Harvey or listen to him before forcing him to go out.

The better criticism is, "Will this Bruce ever become a Batman we cheer for?" And I am not optimistic about that--and that could end up being a dealbreaker for me later. But right now, if we're going to say we want this show to be more like BTAS, then why not appreciate that, by having Bruce being so unlikable, it means we thoroughly enjoy the actual likable characters (Barbara) and the engaging villains? BTAS was just as often fixated on the villains such that Batman was often the supporting character in his titular show--I am fine with this detail.

"Barbara's episode just reinforced that her dad was right all along." Or, hear me out, what if the point is that Barbara's faith in the law is shaken? The other side to Barbara's faith in the law is not "so listen to your dad and assume the worse about alleged and actual criminals": the other side is, "Shit, even the cops may kill you, so much for law and order." That's how you get Barbara becoming Batgirl (Batwoman?), that how you get Rene becoming the Question, and on and on--not necessarily a good thing (Batman's vigilantism is still flawed, Harley's actions are presented as villainous), but it's a path for Barbara's characterization--if they even want to take it, because I actually enjoy this version of Barbara as a public defender without vigilantism, she seems like a character who could go this entire series never becoming a Bat and still ending the series as a fully realized character with a narrative beginning, middle, and end.

Honestly, if I have any criticism, it's how one-and-done certain villains seem to be (Firebug), or not really seeing more that can be done with certain antagonists (Catwoman), or fearing there won't be another season to finish up lingering stories (Harley).

[floral-poisons]

Can I have a scenario of a fem MC studying with riddle but they feel frustrated and dumb for not getting the work?

hey anon!! of course you may!! this is something we all struggle with probably and i get it. it's super hard. but you got this and riddle believes in all of you!! 🌹

i've, again, changed this prompt to fit a gender neutral reader. i don't think riddle would react any differently to a non-fem! mc.

school wasn’t everyone’s specialty. some people worked better in a rigid environment (see riddle). school was definitely not your specialty nor was it for you.

you weren’t a big fan of studying or of learning in general. you preferred things to be more hands on.

the thing is, school was useful. and you were beginning to fall behind. in about every subject.

a lot of the tutors assigned to you gave up, leaving you frustrated.

the worst part was that you just couldn’t understand the material.

it wasn’t hard or easy. it was just confusing and you didn’t like it. you didn’t like how confusing it was and no matter how hard you sat and tried to understand it, you couldn’t.

so you did probably the worst possible thing: enlisted the help from the prefect of heartslabyul.

“(y/n), are you sure you want to do this?” trey asks. “you know how riddle is. you can back out now. there’s no shame. i could even tutor you.”

“no...it has to be riddle. he’s the only one that can probably whip me into shape.” you take a deep breath. part of you was worried though.

“alright.” trey opened the door. “riddle, (y/n)’s here to see you.”

“good good.” riddle turns around in his seat. it was kind of funny considering how short he was and how tall the chair was. “come sit down and let’s get started.”

you were surprised with how...laxed riddle was.

or maybe it was because his overblot had taught him it was okay to relax once in a while and let things slide.

you could see him getting a bit frustrated at times as he kept explaining to you the concepts. you kept zoning out. but he kept his temper and continued to get you to constantly participate until you had the whole concept down.

his method worked! it just involved stringing individual information before connecting the dots with them.

“(y/n), stop zoning out.” riddle taps his pen against the paper. “you’re almost done.”

“i’m sorry riddle. i’m just...tired. and frustrated. we’ve been at it for the last...uhhh...”

“three hours.” riddle checks his watch. “maybe it’s time for a break.”

“maybe i should give up on school.”

riddle scoffs. “if you were in heartslabyul i would’ve kicked you out by now.”

“hey! that’s not fair!” you whine.

“what’s not fair is you giving up after you’ve made clear progress.” riddle points to your notes. “look at what you’ve accomplished so far! and you want to give up now? my mother is...strict to put it lightly. but i agree with her on one thing: if you start something you have to finish it. either fail doing it or succeed. if you stop something after starting it, you’re going to end up with a sense of guilt for not finishing it. do you want to flunk out of classes? if you flunk out, the headmage will have no choice but to expel you and then you’ll be left without anywhere to go.”

you felt the blood leave your face. “you can’t be serious.”

“did you zone out when the headmage talked to you when you got here? no magic, no identification other than your name, a rowdy beast that’s combined with you to make one student? as far as i know, grim isn’t smart. and you two have to make it as one student if you’re going to survive. school may not be for everyone but you should at least finish what you started. as in your assignment and notes. not school.” riddle looked at the clock. “alright let us take a break.”

you sigh. “your speeches suck. you need to work on your people skills.”

“i know. but i get my work done. and you have too.”

“it’s so much easier for you. you’re literally a magical genius!”

“i’m a genius through effort.” riddle sighs. “don’t discount all the work i just did. and if ace can pass without using ashengrotto’s answer key then you can too.”

[dragonsareourfuture]

Mammon/GN!Reader — Safe

⚠️Warnings: emotional distress (caused by Lucifer) and swearing. If you are sensitive to these, please do not go further.

Sometimes I get fed up with how the brothers, mainly Lucifer, treat Mammon. I hate the “punishments” Lucifer gives him and how it’s just brushed off. I desperately want to hold the poor man when it becomes too much for him, so here’s possibly the most serious Obey Me oneshot I’ve ever written to help me cope with not being able to do just that. Begins as angst and evolves into fluff.

You feel terrible, but there is really nothing you can do but clean up the pieces.

Another night, another sleep interrupted by shouts echoing off the corridors of the House of Lamentation. You wish Lucifer would dial it back at least some nights. Hell knows that you’re not the only one whose sleep schedule is suffering just so he can punish his younger brother — then again, only half of the inhabitants of the house actually have a sleep schedule. Curse this entire house for its innate ability to let sound travel so fucking easily.

You groan, rolling to the other side of the bed in a feeble attempt to distance your body from the noise at least a little. It, unsurprisingly, does nothing and you can still hear the incessant booms of Lucifer’s thunderous voice. A pang of guilt bubbles in your chest. How could you be complaining when poor Mammon is the one who has to endure it all? It just doesn’t sit right with you, especially knowing that if you interfered you might have the slightest possibility of putting a stop to the ill treatment of the second born.

Even so, you can’t exactly blame yourself for being wary. Lucifer has tried to kill you on multiple occasions for doing just the thing you are contemplating. You figure you can let yourself off the hook for that one, just this once.

Miraculously, that one conclusion fails to ease that feeling of uneasiness lingering in your stomach. Fists clench around your pillowcase, nose digging into your soft mattress, your patience wears thinner by the second. Your limbs even twitch in an attempt begin rising and deal with the situation after all — but then the noises cease.

The room sounds eerily quiet. Not even the air conditioning is blasting anymore. You yawn, wondering if your ears had just popped. They had not. You snap your fingers. You can hear that just fine. So, you’re not going deaf. Okay, that’s a good sign, at least. You sit up and gaze around the pitch darkness of your bedroom. Nothing stirs — inside the room, that is.

Outside, however, you can hear the distant clomp of footsteps growing closer to your sealed bedroom door. You know who it is immediately, not bothering to lay back down and attempt to sleep, not even considering it. You sit up, feet hitting the floor soon after as you pad your way over to the door. You swing it open just as the footsteps stop right outside your room.

Mammon stands, fist held up in the air as if he was just about to knock on the polished wood. He blinks a couple of times, and you notice the gentle shine to his eyes and eyelids.

“Ya said that I could come...if I needed anything,” the demon croaks. All power that he ever seemed to hold over you had vanished all too suddenly and, rather than relishing in the feeling, all you can do is nod and step aside to allow him passage into your room.

“Of course, come on in,” you say delicately. The last thing you want is to be too coddling, for he might sense that as a personal threat and duck out. But you allow your instinct to care for him shine through with your soft tone. He apparently doesn’t feel that you are babying him too much, as he trudges through your threshold like a defeated puppy. It sincerely breaks your heart.

“I want you to know that you’re welcome to stop by any time you need to,” You had told him earlier that week.

The intrusive demon had never used your welcome for anything besides barging in to hang out at any and all hours, but now, with this clear predicament weighing down on him as heavy as the earth, you feel deeply touched that your words actually got through to him back then. He felt that he could trust you, which is why he is here now and not sulking in his room as he used to do after a particularly brutal scolding.

You shut the door behind him as he makes his entry, watching carefully as he shuffles around your room as if confused on what to do next. His hesitant nature directly contrasts how he would usually waltz in and make himself comfortable. You contemplate locking the door. It would be completely counterproductive if Lucifer or one of the other brothers forced their way in and made the situation way worse. But, at the same time, you would hate to make him feel uneasy, like you’re trapping him in with no way out. You opt to keep the door unlocked.

You pay close attention to Mammon’s features now, shrouded by the dark, sure, but you can make them out almost perfectly. You like to look at his face — it’s pretty, and you don’t bother to keep yourself from doing so. As a result, you can see all his ticks no matter how difficult it may be from the angle, lighting, etcetera. He often scrunches up his nose when he’s irritated, or on he verge of tears. So, seeing his nose twitch as he looks around your room is no surprise to you.

You step closer to his shifting form, and Mammon seems to get even more uncomfortable, so you move back. You rest your arms at your sides, making their positions known so that he won’t fret about the possibility of you hitting him by surprise. You would never, you know this, but Mammon isn’t aware that loved ones shouldn’t ‘lay down the law’ as harshly as Lucifer does.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask slowly, keeping your voice steady and calm.

Mammon’s hands slide into the pockets of his jeans. He shakes his head, the snowy white fringe covering his eyes shaking along with the movements. You nod, understanding his silence. Understanding that if he so much as opened his mouth to answer, a sob might find its way through instead. Even though he trusts you, you suspect that The Great Mammon isn’t keen on letting his human see him in tears.

“Mams, I won’t judge you if you cry. We all have to let off some steam every once in a while,” you reason, voice straining to keep from pleading but failing as your emotions get the better of you. “I love you all the same.”

Mammon hides his face from you, but the telltale sign of his shoulders bouncing up and down tell you that you need to step in. Your hands brush against his shoulders and he jolts. Though a shock runs through your heart at the sight, you simply have to make sure he knows that you’re there for him. You’re not going to let him cry alone in your bedroom when you’re right there beside him. Your grip becomes a bit more forceful now, only enough to turn the Avatar of Greed around by his broad shoulder and pull him close to your body.

With the contact, Mammon feels free to let go completely. Sobs wrack his entire body as you hold him steady. The intensity of them startled you but not as much as the volume. His head is buried in your shoulder, right next to your ear and you are spared no shout nor whine that comes out of the demon’s mouth. This combined with his heavy weight pressing you down tells you that it’s time to change positions.

You gently nudge Mammon into standing up straight, leading him by his hands to your bed, still warm with your body heat from when you had tried to hunker down earlier. He wastes no time at all in pulling you down with him, arms locked tight around your waist while his tear-stained face nuzzles itself into your chest. It’ll leave stains, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. Instead you marvel at how much pent-up emotions Mammon let sit stewing in his head before now. Clear sorrow, evident by the tears now soaking into your night shirt. Anger and desperation, demonstrated by how tightly he clamps around your body, though you can tell he is still somehow holding back, determined not to crush you even in this fit of pure, raw emotion. And all of this caused by a family member. It’s enough to make you seethe, but revenge for Mammon’s sake is not the focus. Right now, his comfort and consolation is all you need to worry about.

You rake your hands through Mammon’s head of ivory hair, brushing it out with your fingers and noting the softness. You plant a frenzy of kisses atop his head, the last one lingering before you lean close to his ear. “That’s it, let it all out...you’re alright now...I’m here.”

Your demon’s cries have, at the very least, calmed a smidge. He shakes less in your grasp but his head remains pressed flush against your chest. You take it upon yourself to ease him further, the hand that held his back sliding down and slipping beneath his ebony-colored shirt. You trace the curve of his spine, relishing in the way it feels against your fingers. He’s more slim than the majority of his brothers, and you absolutely adore it. You get to the dip of Mammon’s lower back and your fingertips nearly move on their own to run over the dimples back there. Warm breath spreads over your chest as the demon cradled in your arms lets out something delightfully close to a laugh.

Your lips quirk upwards in a smile at your accomplishment. Mammon has calmed down enough to where low whines and wheezes are all he emits now. These eventually transform into hums, then snores. You keep Mammon’s face pressed against you — you grew to appreciate his radiating body heat in that area — but moved his mouth and nose away to be sure he wouldn’t suffocate.

Before lying back and drifting off yourself, you wipe some of the excess tears from his cheek and under his eyelids, pressing the gentlest kiss you can produce onto his tanned cheek. Mammon’s eyes only crinkle for a second before his features flatten again with the tranquility of sleep.

Opting to get some sleep of your own, you rest your head finally to your pillow, huffing a great sigh with the contact. As sleep pulls you in, you silently curse the monster that could do this to your baby, dreaming up the most vile plots for your revenge during your outwardly peaceful slumber. But that could be handled another day, preferably whenever Lucifer least expects it.

You wake up before Mammon’s eyes ever begin to crack open. Your position had changed slightly over the course of the night, but most factors still remain the same. Your demon’s face is now in the crook of your neck, steady and cool breaths fanning over your skin, making you shiver. His arm is draped over your stomach as you lay on your back, the other arm tucked underneath him. You want to pull it out from under him — the pins and needles should be bad when he wakes — but you’re determined to let him sleep longer after the night he just had.

Your goal is met, and you lay with him for what feels like a few more hours. You aren’t completely conscious, fading in and out of the realm of sleep every few minutes it seems. Noises begin to sound off outside your bedroom — doors opening and closing, footsteps on the staircase, and eventual chatter from the first floor. People are starting their days like nothing ever happened.

You hope it isn’t the noise that stirs Mammon from his heavy slumber. His eyebrows furrow and a light groan seeps past his parted lips. His head shakes, as if his sleepy self is wondering why his movements are so restricted. If that is the case, you loosen your hold around him. After a few seconds, the Avatar of Greed’s snowy white eyelashes flutter against your neck as his eyes force themselves open.

You pull away to greet him with your smiling face. “Morning, sunshine,” you say, voice coming out in less than a mere whisper as your throat is still rough from sleep.

Mammon’s features flood with realization, an alarmingly dark blush spreading across his nose and cheeks, some even reaching his ears and neck. You wish you could wake up to this face every single day.

“M-m-mornin’...” he tries, stuffing his face in your pillow in an attempt to quell the blood rushing to his face. Your chuckle at this action only makes it worse.

“Everyone’s getting up right about now,” you tell him, your hands finding their way up to his incredibly soft head of hair, twirling a couple strands around your index finger as you speak, “Do you want me to go make you some breakfast and bring it up here for you?”

“Gah!” Mammon jolts, eyes losing their sleepiness immediately to stare at you in disbelief. “Y-y-you’d do that!?”

“Of course!” You pull your torso off the bed, accentuating your declaration, and leaning on your elbows for support. “I’m not gonna make you go down there and face your brothers if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“Oh...yeah...yeah, that sounds real nice. T-the Great Mammon appreciates your service!”

You jokingly roll your eyes, heaving your body all the way up to start dressing yourself. “I’m sure he does.” You halt all movements when pressure suddenly builds around your wrist, constricting and pulling you back before you can stand.

You look back, a worried-looking Mammon staring at you with wide eyes and upturned brows. He seems to catch himself, hanging his head a bit and sinking into the bedsheets. “B-before you do that...do you think you can stay a bit longer?”

You are about to comply with Mammon’s request, positively falling victim to the pleading look he shoots you, when a loud rumble breaks the brief silence. Mammon whines and clutches his stomach, concealing his face with your sheets.

“How about I get you some breakfast, then I’ll come back and we can cuddle all morning. Does that sound good?”

Your demon peeks an eye out from under the covers, white hair bobbing up and down in an affirmative nod. You smile, getting up and slipping on some shorts to go with your nightshirt. You make it to the door, hand on the handle when you turn to ask your sleepy demon a question.

“So, did you have anything in mind? You’ve got your spicy noodles—“

“Wait! I’m saving those! It’s my last cup and Lucifer says we’re not going to the store in a week! Not...ya know, not that I’m scared of him!” He perks up, sheets cascading down his torso.

“I can always make a quick run to the store. Lucifer’s words aren’t law.”

Mammon looks hesitant. He shakes his head and grabs at the sheets to pull them back up his body. “No, no, I’ll take a sandwich. Beel bought some Melancholy berry jam the other day and hasn’t eaten it all yet. Some of that with peanut butter would be great...”

“Not a problem. Oh, and do you want toasted bread?”

Mammon hugs your pillow. You suspect he’s getting weirded out by being asked all of these questions about his own preferences. Not a lot of demons seem to take them into account on a regular basis, after all. “U-um, that sounds good... and ... ugh, never mind!”

“What is it?”

He struggles with his words for a moment before asking, rather rushed, “Could you cut off the crusts, too?”

You have to brace yourself on the door handle to not collapse at how incredibly adorable that request is. Nevertheless, you can tell he is embarrassed and decide not to tease him too much. That could be done later, when he isn’t in such a vulnerable state of mind. You nod, chirping a quick ‘Sure, sweetheart’ before exiting and closing the door behind you.

Heading downstairs feels like squaring up for a fight. Deep down you know you can’t do much, Mammon would be crushed if you got in trouble with Lucifer for his sake, but you won’t be pleasant, either. You cringe at yourself, unable to handle the empty threats you seem to have in abundance inside your brain.

You can’t give most of the brothers the cold shoulder, that much you know. It wasn’t them that forced Mammon to tears the previous night with nothing but their words and whatever other hells Mammon was forced to endure. No, only Lucifer deserves your passive aggressive wrath today.

Luckily for you, there are only a few of the brothers remaining in the kitchen instead of waiting at the table already, one of those few being Lucifer himself who stands against the counter with a mug of coffee pressed to his lips. Satan and Beel are present as well, Beel rummaging through the pantry and fridge while Satan watches with what looks like mild amusement.

“Morning,” you greet the two younger brothers, going out of your way to make as little eye contact with Lucifer as possible. Whether he picks up on this, you can’t tell, but you can sense the change in atmosphere as you open the fridge and dig around for the jam Mammon wants.

“(Name). Is something wrong?” A deep voice inquires and, as you deduct that voice to be Beel’s, you look over your shoulder, offering a smile.

“Can’t possibly imagine why there’d be something wrong.” Wrong with you at least.

“Are you sure? You seem...off,” Satan inquires, as curious and considerate as ever.

You head over to the pantry, now with the jam in hand, and search for the peanut butter. A soft ‘ah!’ escapes you as your hand closes around the jar as well as a loaf of bread and you make your way over to the cutting board.

“I’m cool,” you deadpan. The younger brothers remain silent after you hear them shift a bit.

You begin to prepare the sandwich, daring not to turn around when the sound of footsteps approaching you invades your ears. All too suddenly there is a looming presence behind you, peering over your shoulder and radiating the most intense energy you’ve ever felt.

“What.” You say. It is not a question, but a demand. You still do not meet the eldest brother’s eyes.

You hear fabric shift and body heat warm your skin as Lucifer leans down to speak quietly enough so that his brother’s can’t hear. “It is for his own good. He will never learn if he is not properly disciplined.”

Your blood begins to boil. You raise your voice to him, completely disregarding Lucifer’s attempts to keep his brothers out of the situation as you do. “You know you can ‘properly discipline’ him without hurting him, right? What kind of brother are you?”

You leave it at that, throwing the rest of the sandwich together quickly before storming out of there. But wait...you stop in your tracks and stare down at the sandwich with defeated eyes. You forgot to cut off the crusts, dammit!

So, throwing your opportunity for a badass exit out the window, you march right back into the kitchen, tear open a drawer to grab a knife, and chop every single crust from the bread — all while the three brothers stare at you in both confusion and awe.

As you go to leave again, Satan finds the will to speak up. “Where are you going?”

“To my room.” You hold up the now crust-less sandwich. “The Great Mammon’s gotta eat.”

“But it’s your turn to make breakfast for everyone!” Beel whines, clutching at his stomach helplessly.

Again, you pause. Your fight leaves you and you approach the gentle giant upon seeing him look at you with such sorrow. You know how important food is to him.

“I’ll call for delivery from Hell’s Kitchen. Just round up everyone’s order and text it to me. Is that okay?”

Beelzebub nods enthusiastically and you pat his head, then turn on your heel to head back up to your room. You feel eyes on you as you walk away and, if you weren’t so fired up right now, you might take that as a compliment. But you know it’s Lucifer. You know it’s him even as the presence behind you follows you out into the hallway.

“I don’t like being followed.” You state in a bored tone.

“You don’t have to treat him like a child, you know. He can take care of himself.”

“I don’t want to let him take care of himself. I’m gonna be there for him when his brothers are being assholes.”

Lucifer looks taken aback. You don’t curse at them, you just don’t. Unless you’re joking, you never speak ill to them no matter what. And you didn’t to Beel or Satan. Even in your fired state you calmed enough to treat them as you normally would, with kindness and compassion. It is him you have the grudge against right now, and Lucifer’s brain can’t seem to accept or handle the fact that this is because of your protectiveness over his younger sibling.

“You won’t be here forever, you know.” Lucifer knows he crossed a line, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “He will need to fight his own battles eventually.”

“How about you give him less battles to fight, hmm?”

Lucifer seems to have nothing left to say. Taking his silence as an invitation to leave, you do just that and start up the stairs to your bedroom.

“Oh, and by the way,” you begin, stopping midway up the staircase to address the short circuiting demon you left in the hallway, “I may not be in this world as long as you guys will, but if you even touch him after I’m gone, my ghost will fuck you up.”

You make your final leave, Mammon’s breakfast in hand and a smile lining your face as you prepare to greet your greedy little demon.

[gwynrielendgame]

Gwynriel smut lol

Okay yall I truly struggle writing smut...I deal with a lot of shame revolving anything with sex, but I figured writing a fanfic might be therapeutic in a sense. If you don't like it, please move along. It may not be spicy enough or perhaps you find it too spicy; either way, pls be considerate in the comments below. Probably 18+ if you read acosf then this is about the same level IMO. Idk what type of warnings to give with smut so I supposed continue at your own discretion.

“Um, Az?” Gwyn hesitantly called for her mate. She did not want to admit to being stuck, but there was no avoiding it.

“Yeah?” He released his cock from his hand to look at the beautiful female tied up in his bed. He caressed her soft backside before nipping it quickly.

“Az! Focus,” her giggles undermined the harsh tone she was attempting to use. “I’m stuck.” She tried to look back at him. But the ties they were using were particularly tight. She would have to teach Az a softer knot.

“That is kind of the point, is it not?” He continued to nip at her bottom in a playful manner. The giggles it elicited sent heat straight to his groin. He gripped his cock again and started pumping it with one hand while his other hand drifted to her thighs that were spread apart with the help of the very sturdy ribbons they were using.

“Azriel.” She whined his name.

They were attempting something that Gwyn found in a book that Nesta so kindly gifted her for Gwyn’s birthday one year. It clearly needed more detailed instructions because this was not as “loose” nor “comfortable” as she had read the position to be. Azriel gave one final chuckle before surrendering.

“Where do I need to fix it, love?”

“Loosen the ties on my wrists. I want to be able to prop myself up.”

He immediately went to work on the ribbons around her wrists. The action caused a rush of heat to flood Gwyn. As much as they teased each other, he always listened to her requests. Even if it doused some of the ambiance, he always stopped to make sure she was comfortable. It was the single most attractive thing he did, in her opinion. Nothing made her want him more than his quietly respectful demeanor. She could think of a few instances where his manners benefitted him greatly at the end of the night. Her fantasies were interrupted by the ribbons loosening. She sighed as she propped herself up on her elbows, making sure her backside was on perfect display for her mate. He stifled a groan by sinking his teeth into her more than supple bottom. She often found little bruises there from all his sucking and biting.

“Please continue.” She moaned as his teeth scraped at her. She never wanted him to stop especially when he brought his fingers back in between her thighs.

“What was that, love? I do not think I heard you.” Azriel said in his quiet, spymaster voice. It always turned Gwyn on when he used this tone, so she could not find it in herself to be mad that he wanted her to beg. She would beg if it meant he would keep talking.

“Please?” She tried again. “I want you to-“ her body jerked as he brushed lightly over her most sensitive area. She tried to scoot back towards his hand when he pulled away, but the ties prevented that. She whimpered to show her dissatisfaction. Azriel only chuckled in response.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me!” It was a desperate plea. She would allow him to tease her later for how quickly she started to beg; but for now, she simply needed his touch.

“Your wish is my command.” He used that same quiet, sultry voice.

Finally, his fingers were moving with a purpose. He circled her clit while using his other hand to pump inside of her. She started to wriggle underneath his touch. He knew she was close now.

“Yes! Azriel yes!”

It always filled him with so much pride when he could get her to moan his full name. His shadows roamed, untamed. They caressed every part of her that they could reach. She moaned even louder when a shadow slowly creeped up her back.

“Let me touch you.” She said in such a demanding tone that Azriel could not stop his smile even if he tried. He moved his hands faster, swirling her clit in a rhythmic motion that had her bucking against the ties.

“Soon.” He mutter. He would finish her off several times first. He could feel it building in her as her body tightened and she held in her breath.

“Do not stop!” She demanded once more. A sly grin slid onto his face even though he knew she could not see it since his fingers were sliding into her from behind. He slowed his speed down until he completely pulled his hands away altogether. She practically screeched in outrage.

“What was that? Did you say stop?”

“Azriel!” She yelped.

He plastered his front to her back, brought his mouth to her ear and his hand around the front to cup her. He started slow ministrations over again that had her whimpering.

“Who gives the orders in this bed?” Azriel asked with so much smugness that Gwyn wanted to yell many obscenities at him. She did not though considering he was slowly bringing her right back to the edge of her climax. She promised to pay him the same courtesies when it was his turn in the ribbons.

“You.” She muttered as though she was displeased, but truly she could not be more aroused. She knew he could tell by how wet his fingers must be by now.

“That’s right. I will let you know when I start taking orders from bossy Valkyries though.” The rough tone was so erotic as his mouth brushed against the shell of her ear that she thought she might finish right then and there. Secretly, she loved when he told her what to do. She had a feeling it was not much of a secret to him though. He intertwined one of his hands with hers while the other hand continued to torture her. He kept his chest firmly pressed against her back as she rode his hand. The restraints only added to the pleasure coursing through her veins.

She felt his very large cock press against her entrance from the back. She pushed back against him to try and take it all as his fingers continued to play with her. The restraints kept her legs in place though. She groaned out in frustration.

“Please?” She asked once again. She turned her head to look at his beautiful face only to see a look of utter concentration.

He, normally, only looked like this when he was writing a report for the High Lord. It always made her blood pump with arousal, so she was excited to see it now. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and then lined himself up at her entrance.

“Azriel, I love you, but I swear to the cauldron if you do not enter me right now- ah!” She moaned loudly as Az finally entered her in one rough push.

He began rocking his hips- in and out. Gwyn tried to meet each thrust with one of her own, but the ties were proving difficult. She would need to add her own angry anecdote to the page on this position in her book. He thrust so deeply that Gwyn screamed out for all to hear.

“Fuck yes. Keep going please.” She made sure to add on the please at the end to keep him appeased. He made a loud moan himself as he continued to pump into her.

“Unless you want Cassian and Nesta to hear, I suggest you quiet down.” He was gritting his teeth as he said it. He was clearly trying to maintain some sort of control. Gwyn smirked as she knew that he always finished fast from this position.

“Payback.” Is all she uttered.

Azriel’s fingers swirled around her clit right as he hit a deep spot inside her. It had her coming so hard and long that she was certain she lost her vision for a second. She may have also been screaming, but she was not entirely sure. His fingers did not stop their movements on her though. It was such an intense feeling she almost wanted to ask him to stop. He kept pumping into her though while he tried to find his own release. Her hips were meeting his thrust for thrust. She could feel as his speed picked up and he became more wild and unhinged. It was her favorite part of sex with him. When he was so close that he almost gave over complete control and was not quite as gentle with her as he normally was.

“Fuck.” He muttered much quieter than Gwyn had when she finished. The hand that was interlaced with hers was squeezing so tightly that she worried her hand would go numb. She sighed contently. She knew with the Shadowsinger at her side, they could accomplish anything.

“Think I’m pregnant yet?” Gwyn asked once she had been untied, and they had finished a few more rounds.

They both lay on their back with Azriel’s arm tucked under her head. He pulled her closer to place a kiss on her forehead. It was such a tender moment that it made her heart squeeze. She started tracing his chest tattoos with her fingers. Azriel smiled softly at that. He noticed she could never sit still. If she was not tracing his tattoos, then it was his scars on his hands. If not that, then she was chasing his shadows around the room. She was only truly still when she slept.

“Good news is that we can keep trying until you are.”

“Very good news indeed.” A mischievous smile curled at her lips while the hand that had been tracing tattoos started trailing downwards.

“Again?” He asked astonished. He figured that she would definitely be sated at least until tomorrow. She rolled her eyes, but the smile stayed in place.

“A baby is not going to magical insert itself, now is it?” A smirk played at his lips.

“Just for that I am not going to let you finish for at least the next two rounds.”

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Prey for You | Part 6

Genre: Smut, angst.

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: As Chan gets closer to his heat and you get closer to Felix, things are bound to come to a head.

Warnings: super unhealthy relationship, dom!chan, sub!reader, spanking, exhibitionism, breeding kink, violence, big dick chan, fingering, enemies to lovers, wolf!hybrid chan, fox!hybrid reader

(If you know the owner of this gif pls let me know so I can credit them)

You barely spend any time in the house anymore, only going back to sleep. Chan can’t seem to grasp the fact that it’s really over. He keeps trying to talk his way back into your life like last time, but you don’t give him the chance. You’re afraid if you listen to him, he’ll trick you again.

You end up spending more and more time with Felix, something that angers Chan greatly. He even tries to tell Felix to stay away from you, as the cat begrudgingly admitted to you one day, but he refused. And you’re ever so grateful for that. You don’t really have any friends and if you did, you’re such none of them could hold a candle to Felix.

He was such a sweetheart in a way that was almost too good to believe. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t been through the same sort of stuff you have, and cat hybrids in general are more favored and accepted than fox hybrids. Or maybe it’s because he found a group of friends that accepted him for who he was and never doubted him. But he seemed to have so much faith and trust in the world that you could never come close to. Still, just being in his positive presence rubbed off on you a little and gave you a smidge of happiness by proxy.

It was much needed, as the closer Chan got to his heat, the more explosive his temper became. Unfortunately for you, the mere fact that you were spending time with Felix fueled his anger, and he would fly into rage every time you’d come back home smelling like the cat. So any sense of cheerfulness you may have gotten from Felix was quickly smashed to the ground the moment you walked through the door.

It also wasn’t helping that he hasn’t hooked up with anyone ever since your last time together, and not satisfying what his body was literally demanding from him just made things ten times worse. But he persisted, trying till the end to convince you to spend his heat with him. You refused, of course.

Until finally, he informs you that you will have to leave the house for a few days as he will be bringing someone over to spend his heat with him. He wanted to rent a hotel room for you but you told him you already had a place to stay. He asks where you’ll stay, the grimace already on his face telling you that he knew the answer; you’ll be with Felix.

You pack your bag with the things you’ll be needing for the next few days under Chan’s watchful eyes. He stays silent until it’s time for you to leave. That’s when he takes your hand in his, proclaiming earnestly, “I really didn’t want to do this. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” You mumble, trying to move away but he grips your hand tighter, looking down at it intensely. "Please don't stay with Felix. I'll get you a five star hotel suite."

You wrench away from him. "Because I'll ruin him?"

"No." He shakes his head vehemently. "Just please. For me?"

You snort. "I don't owe you shit, Chan."

_______________________

You can barely sit still. Just knowing that Chan was with another woman right now made you sick to your stomach, and once again, you find your traitorous heart wishing you had given in to him. This just hurts too much. 

Felix is concerned about you, and he does all he can think of to take your mind off of it. He talks to you. He bakes you cookies. He cuddles with you. He tries to distract you in any way, but nothing works. 

Finally, he brings out the alcohol, knowing that that’s what helped you last time. You throw yourself into it, downing glass after glass to snuff out your jealousy and pain, but all that accomplishes is getting you more disinhibited and loud. 

“I can’t take it, Felix. He’s with another woman right now when he should be with me.”

“No. You deserve so much better.” Felix insists, trying to contain you in his embrace but you’re fidgeting too much. “Chan didn’t treat you right.”

“But he can, right? I mean he loves you so much. Maybe if we just try--” You maniacally explain but Felix’s angelic face twists into a scowl. “Do you even know the kind of stuff he used to say about you? That was the first time that I’ve ever looked down on him--when he was being so unfair to you.” 

You gulp, heart wrenching at the thought of the kind of things he must’ve said to his friends that would anger Felix so much. “But...what can I do, Lixie? It hurts so bad.”

Felix cups your face, so soft and delicate, looking into your eyes adoringly. “Let me take your mind off it.” He whispers. 

“What?” The word barely leaves your lips before his own lips are on you, kissing you tenderly. 

 You freeze in shock as Felix’s lips move over yours, trying to get you to reciprocate, but you pull away. "Kitty… don't."

He doesn’t let you go. “Stop thinking about him, please. Focus on me.” He coaxes, pressing his lips to yours in light pecks, his gaze pulling you in. 

You give into the soft feeling of his lips on yours. So far nothing has worked to ease your mind. Maybe this will. It feels nice kissing him, he’s soft and malleable, working with you according to what you want, letting you lead the kiss when you’re ready. 

You get closer to each other by the second, and when you pull him onto your lap, his crotch rubs against your thigh, and he moans out. 

“Are you hard already, kitty?” You tug on his hair, pulling his head away and restricting his answering nod.

You slide your hands down his body and pull his pants down over his dick, freeing it. “What a cute little dick, Lixie.” You coo, seeing his small member red and twitching against his abdomen. 

He blushes, burying his face in your neck and moaning out as you wrap your hand around his dick. “Fits just right in my hand.” You jerk him, the boy easily whining.

“Does it feel good, kitty?” 

“Y-yeah.” He kisses your neck wetly, trailing down towards your chest and mouthing at your breast through your top. “So good. Been wanting this for so long.” 

“You did? And here I thought you’re an innocent kitty.” 

“I am. I’m a good kitty.” He moans, trying to kiss you again but you keep his head away.

“Do good kitties lust after their friend’s girl?” 

His face morphs with annoyance, surprising you. “Shut up about him.” The way he spoke threw you off. It was unlike him and you were annoyed by the unexpected change. Narrowing your eyes at him, you hiss warningly, “Felix...” 

“Chan is literally balls deep in another girl right now. Fuck him.” He huffs insolently, his hands going up to grope your chest. 

You slap him, the wetness of his precum sticking to his cheek. “Shut up.”

“Why do you still care about him after all he's done to you?” He asks angrily. 

“Because I love him!” You find yourself answering easily. You do love him, despite everything he put you through. 

“He doesn’t deserve your love. He’s a fucking asshole.”

“He’s your best friend. He thinks of you like a brother!” You know you shouldn't defend him but you also know that Chan would be absolutely devastated if he found out that's what Felix thinks of him. It was never your intention to drive a wedge between them.

Felix scoffs, getting off you and adjusting his clothes irritably. “Yeah and I have to forever follow his every word or I’ll be an ungrateful bastard, right? I thought you out of everyone else would understand!”

“Understand what?” You exclaim. 

“When Chan took me under his wing,” Felix begins, voice gruff with a bitterness you’re all too familiar with. “I was so blown away by how nice that is, that I basically worshipped him. And he liked that about me. I know he loves me but a big part of that is because I contribute to making him feel better about himself. Chan is so fucking obsessed with having people like and respect him. That’s the entire reason he’s so ashamed of you, because you don’t fit his perfect image.”

His words lash at you. You already knew very well that’s how Chan thinks but to hear it said out loud to you by Felix just makes it hurt more.

“So when I came in, all puppy eyed and full of praise, he was ecstatic to have me around--his own personal cheerleader. And I was happy to give that to him. Hell, the guys saved my life, right? But now I can’t get out of that role. I can’t disobey anything he says or go against his word or he’d take it as a betrayal because Chan is always fucking right. Chan always knows best.”

"Felix don't be stupid. I’m sure if you just talked to him, he’d understand.”

“Yeah, like he understood you?” 

You reel back, stung, and you quietly say, “You’re different. He loves you so much, Felix. He almost ripped my head off when he found out I had hung out with you. He was so worried about you.”

Felix laughs at that. “You got it all wrong. He wasn’t worried about me. He was jealous and afraid I’ll steal you from him.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You exclaim, the entire conversation thrusting your brain in a confused daze, but you quickly quiet down as you hear the sounds of keys. You look at Felix in alarm, silently asking who could it be, and from the way his face pales, you already know the answer.

Your heart drops in your stomach and your throat closes up as the door swings open to reveal a distressed Chan. He lets out a little sigh of relief when he sees you, and he starts making his way towards you. "Oh, baby. I couldn't do it. Please come home."

Suddenly, he stops dead in his tracks, face turning to stone and eyes deadly as he takes in the scent of your and Felix's arousal in the air. You see nothing but bloody murder in his eyes as they regard you, and you think he might actually kill you this time. After all, it’s the peak of his heat, he apparently hasn’t slept with the woman he was supposed to, and you had just messed around with his best friend. He must be angry, riled up, and frantic. He’s capable of doing anything.

But instead of attacking you, he pounds towards Felix, screaming at him, “You fucking bastard!” He swings at Felix, the force of his punch throwing the smaller boy to the ground. He doesn’t stop there though, aiming kicks at the crumpled form of the cat on the floor. 

“Chan, no!” You scream, rushing towards them but Chan yanks you away, gritting out, “Don’t touch him.” 

“Chan, please--” You beg, hoping to stop him from assaulting Felix again, but then the boy on the ground sits up, spitting the blood out of his mouth, and regarding Chan with a dark look you've never even thought the cute cat was capable of. “What is it, hyung? The bitch’s pussy wasn’t tight enough for you?” 

Chan throws you to the side and jumps on Felix again, pummeling his face with punches. The cat can barely do anything to protect himself, let alone retaliate--the power difference just too great between them. 

You rush towards them again, trying to stop the wolf’s attacks. “Stop it, Chan! You’re gonna kill him!” 

He stops, and Felix slumps on the ground, groaning and bloody. You try to get closer to check on him but Chan grabs you by the hair and pulls your face close to his. “Is this what you wanted, baby? Am I predator enough for you now?” 

“Puppy, please, don’t do this.” You beseech, pulling at his arm. “Let’s go home. Let me take care of you.” 

“You can take care of me here.” He replies coldly.

“W-what?” You yelp as he gets off Felix and pushes you over his body instead. “Since he decided to touch what wasn’t his, I’m gonna fuck you right in front of his eyes.”

You and Felix stare at each other in horror as Chan’s hands rip your pants off. You quickly notice the malice in his eyes, and you grab his arms, your hands clenching down on them with all your might and your eyes silently begging him to stay down. He’d have no chance against Chan if he tried, and you really don’t think he can take any more punches. 

“Please.” You mouth, hoping the concern in your eyes would get through to him. He grits his teeth but stays down, and you let out a small sigh of relief that turns into a shocked squeak as you feel Chan’s hand coming down on your ass. 

“I am the one in heat and I couldn’t bear to sleep with someone else. But you were just gonna fuck my best friend that easily?” He growls, giving your ass another smack that makes you jolt. He doesn’t hold back, his fingers spread wide to strike as much of your cheek as he can. 

“No!” You shake your head forcefully, making up for your uncertainty. The truth is you aren’t sure if you would’ve gone through with it or not, and that made you feel ashamed of yourself. Yes, Chan had hurt you but you wouldn’t have gone so low as to fuck the guy he thought of as his brother, right?  “I wasn’t.” 

"But you let him touch you." He snarls, giving you another hard slap before soothing the skin again. "Tell me, did you let him touch you here?" He pulls your panties to the side and rubs his fingers lightly over your pussy.

"No!" You shake your head, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach and you find yourself pushing your ass back into his fingers. But instead of touching you, he smacks your ass once more. 

Soothing his hand over the punished skin, he drawls, "It doesn’t matter. When I'm done with you, no one will have any doubt who you belong to." Then he spanks you again. And again. And again. 

You’re surprised by how you don’t have any desire to stop his actions. On the contrary, it felt good to finally be claimed by him. You longed for him to love you openly and willingly, and with the effect of the heat, that is exactly what he was doing. You could smell how aroused he is, and how much he wanted to fuck you. And you wanted him to. Messing around with Felix only made you crave Chan more, and like a horny bitch you couldn’t wait for him to give it to you, even in front of Felix--especially in front of Felix. You wanted to prove to him as much as to yourself that you could be Chan’s. 

“Is this what you wished to have, Lixie?" He asks the boy under you. "She has such a pretty pussy, doesn’t she? So tight…” He nudges a finger in, curling it. “But it's all mine." 

The boy under you glares up at him and you dig your fingers into his biceps, once again begging him not to fight back. 

"Puppy, please. Let’s just go home" You coax, trying to get the two boys away from each other.

“No. He’s gonna sit there and watch me breed your little pussy.” Chan says, pulling his finger out then pushing it in again, his other hand continuing to spank you. 

You think you hear a low growl coming from Felix but it’s hard concentrated over the squelching sounds of Chan’s fingers pumping in and out of your drenched pussy at a rapid pace. Delighting in the way you are rocking yourself against his hand and clenching around his finger, Chan praises you. “Good girl. You know who you belong to, don’t you?” 

“Chan--”

His finger curls inside of you and his hand falls on your ass harshly. “Don’t you, baby?” 

You know he’s not to be provoked right now. “Yes. I belong to you.” 

“That’s my good little fox.” He grunts, pushing another finger inside you. “Would he be able to make you lose it like this just from his fingers? Have you fucking back on his fingers like a bitch in heat?” 

“No, puppy. Only you can.”  You answer while looking Felix in the eye, and you’re turned on, you could feel your arousal leaking down your leg. 

“You like this, don’t you, little slut? Is this what you were waiting for?” 

“No… I-I” You stutter, feeling yourself getting close despite your denial. Chan can tell and he speeds up even more, causing the palm of the hand he is fingering you with to keep smacking against your pussy. As your walls start spasming around his fingers, he takes them out, leaving you clenching around nothing. But he doesn’t stop touching you, his fingers rubbing over your lips relentlessly, forcing you into a painful high and never letting you down. You shake in his grip, squealing and begging him to stop. “Chan---I can’t, please!”

You try to pull away but he snakes an arms around your waist and keeps your ass in the air, his fingers forcing you into another orgasm. Your hips jerk in his hold, trying to break away, and you beg. “It h-hurts, Chan...ahhhh---please, stop! Please!” 

Finally he stops, and your body goes limp, almost falling onto Felix if it weren’t from the arm Chan has around you. As you sit there, panting and held up by Chan, he brings his other hand to your face and pushes the fingers that were just inside you into your mouth. You can barely breathe around the intrusion, so short of breath already, but you do your best to suck on them like you know he wants. 

“Good girl.” He pushes your shirt over your breasts and palms one of them greedily.  "Want me to fuck your pussy, my pretty fox?" He purrs, pulling his fingers out of your mouth, and--wet with your saliva-- he rubs them over your other breast. Despite the agonizing orgams you just had, you find yourself arching into his touch and rubbing your thighs together.

“Yes, puppy. Need you to fuck me.” 

You let out a shaky breath as he pulls your panties to your knees. You hear the sound of pants unzipping before you feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance and slowly nudging in. You briefly wonder how you were ever able to take him. Sensing your worry, he pushes in more of his dick. “No, no backing down now. You’re going to be a good fox and take my cock, won’t you, baby?” 

“Yes, Channie.” You grit. It’s been so long since you’ve taken him, and you know this is gonna hurt despite how drenched you were. Still, you were excited, having learnt to appreciate the painful stretch now. Maybe he was right all along--he’d ruined you for all your pretty boys, trained you to crave his dick only.

He holds you still to prevent you from wiggling away as he continues to inch his dick inside you. “Take it. You wanted me to claim you and now you’re going to be good and take it.” He leans over and mouths at your neck. Instead of kisses, he nibs at your skin, the sharp pain of his canines plucking at the skin taking your attention away from the dull pain of his dick breaching your pussy. 

Once he’s all the way in, he laps his tongue at your neck soothingly. “There. Good girl.” 

You wince as he pulls his hips back slowly then thrusts back in all at once, a yelp coming out of you as his dick hits deep inside you. He chuckles, his hips picking up speed. “I have so much cum for you, you’ll be dripping my seed for days.” 

You can do nothing but whimper, holding tightly onto Felix as Chan’s hips slap against your ass and his dick pistons in and out of you. It feels like it’s the first time fucking him for how much your pussy suffers. But for as much pain it gives you, it also gives pleasure, and you feel euphoric. 

"I'll make sure no one touches you ever again. Gonna breed you everyday and make you walk around with my cum dripping from your pussy so everyone knows who you belong to." He growls, and you know he’s staring down at Felix from the way the other boy was glaring at him. “Do you want that, baby?” 

You open your mouth to reply but all that cums out is an incomprehensible garble so you give up, mouth left hanging open. 

"Look at that, Felix. I’ve fucked her dumb." He gloats, pushing your shirt up and fondling your tits. “And you thought your little dick could ever please her. She wouldn’t have even felt it after getting fucked open by me. Isn’t that right, baby girl?” 

Chan’s voice is gruff as his hips drive into you even harder, and you know he’s close. You nod, pleading. “Yes---p-please puppy---ahh cum.” 

“You want me to cum inside you? Want me to make you mine?” He growls in your ear, and you whimper, your legs buckling under you. He holds your hips up, his dick drilling into you. “Ok, baby girl. There you go. Take it all.” His dick spasms inside of you, his hot cum quickly filling up your tight pussy.

You feel so satisfied filled up like this. It feels right, and you wish you could stay in this moment forever--his arms wrapped securely around you and his face nuzzling softly into your neck as he whispers soft praises into your ear. 

But of course it can’t, especially not with the hostile cat lying under you. 

Chan is not done taunting Felix though. Pulling out of you, he inserts two fingers into your pussy and curls them as he pulls out, making the cum inside you gush out. Then he leans over you and brushes his cum stained fingers over Felix’s bloody cheek. The cat tenses up, hissing threateningly, but you quickly intervene, croaking out, “Channie…Please, let’s go.”

Chan huffs, pulling your panties back on and zipping up his own pants before he scoops you up in his arms. He sits you down on the couch and helps you put your pants back on. As he starts getting dressed too. Felix sits up, looking worse for wear but hopefully not seriously injured. You’re worried that Felix would be stupid enough to attack him but to your relief, he stays seated where he was, the both of them just glaring at each other. 

Before it can escalate beyond the dirty looks, you put a hand to Chan’s back, pulling his attention towards you. “I want to go now.” You coax, “Please.” 

Chan sighs and nods, carrying you in his arms and walking out of the apartment. 

__

When you get back to his house, Chan sets you down on your bed. 

Cupping your cheeks, he asks softly, “Do you want to take a shower?” 

You shake your head, too tired to even stand up at this point. Nodding, he pulls your soiled clothes off your body, doing his best to wipe you off before he grabs one of his hoodies and pulls it over your head. 

When he’s done, he just stands there awkwardly like he wants to say something but is unsure how to start. 

You sigh, defeated. “Just say what you want to say, Chan.”

His gaze is set on you, suddenly resolute, and he states firmly. "I want you to give me a chance." 

You scoff in disbelief. "I've given you plenty of chances."

"No.” He insists, jaw set and tone unrelenting. “You never really did. You always had your mind made up about me from the beginning. I want a real chance this time." 

“You think you deserve it after all you’ve done? You've never even apologized for any of the shit you put me through, Chan!"

“I’m sorry." He apologizes at once, with no hesitation, and you’re taken aback. “Why suddenly? Did I have to ask you for it?”

"No. I was being an idiot and a coward. I cared more about my reputation than I did about you and that was wrong.” His jaw clenches and he looks at you intensely. “But I wasn’t the only one at fault. You were no angel either.”

You open your mouth to protest but he stops you. “Just shut up and listen for once.” He shouts, frustrated, and begins pacing around the room, one hand messing up his hair while the other gestures wildly as he explains. 

“I was scared to tell people I was with you when I wasn’t even sure you were going to stay. Any time I tried to get close to you, you would always reject me. You made me feel so worthless and unwanted. You never thought of me as a real predator, and you made sure to throw that in my face every chance you got. Tell me how could I trust you when you looked at me like I didn’t even deserve to be a predator? That my mere existence was a shame? Have you ever apologized to me for that?” He challenges, stopping his pacing and waiting for your answer, but you couldn’t give him one. You just stare down at your hands to avoid his condemning gaze. No, you never apologized. 

“I didn’t think so.” He scoffs sourly,  “You know what the worst thing is? I believed you. I’ve always doubted myself and wondered if I’m weak and inept, wondered if I could ever be enough. And there you were, so contemptuously telling me that I am not."

"So it's my own fault you treated me like I was something to be ashamed of?" You ask incredulously. “That you didn’t even stand up for me in front of your friends?”

"No! I just want you to see it from my perspective for once." He yells, frustrated at how you seemed to twist his words. “That night at the studio, I thought we were getting somewhere. I thought that for the first time you were starting to trust me and respect me. That you could maybe see me as something more than the impotent predator you always thought I was. But as soon as I attempted to confess to you, you pulled back like I disgusted you. You undid everything I was trying to build with that one look.”

“So yeah, I was fucking bitter about it, and when my friends showed up and realized you were there, they fucking laid it on me, asking me what the fuck I was doing and reminding me how hard I had been on Jisung because of you before, and I just felt fucking stupid and humiliated by them--by you!”

“Still, I wanted to apologize after I’d calmed down but by then you wouldn’t even listen to me. You’re so fucking stubborn you know?” He smiles wetly. 

He waits for you to say something but you just remain frozen, trying to make sense of everything that he said. You had always viewed Chan as the dangerous party here, the one who was most capable of hurt, that you never stopped to ask if you were hurting him. You guess, deep down, you never really believed he cared for you and so you didn’t consider the idea that your rejection would affect him. 

Coming close again, he sits on the bed next to you and props your chin up to make you look at him. “But I never lied to you, my pretty fox. You are special to me and I love you.” You can see the sincerity in his eyes, but something still nags at you. 

“What about what you said to me about Felix? How you actually care about him?” You chew on your lip, worried about his answer. 

Letting you go, he rubs a hand over his face and lets out a tired laugh. “I was fucking jealous for god’s sake--something you would've been able to tell easily if you had paid any attention to how I was feeling.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling defensive. “But why would you assume I would go after Felix?” 

“Because you and him make way more sense than you and I. He’s much more your type than I ever was. He’s kind and compassionate and sweet. I was terrified that you’d fall right into his arms, and I’d never be able to compete. I would lose both my lover and my best friend.” 

“Okay.” You say slowly, trying to make sense of all this new information and relating them to your own emotions. “But all of that still doesn’t excuse the fact that you completely fucked with my already tennous sense of self worth, Chan. You made me feel that for once, someone might actually love me and want me despite what I am, only for you to then immediately pull the rug out from under my feet and try to distance yourself from me.” 

“I know, and I was wrong and I wish I could take it all back.” He laments sadly, “But I was hurt too. You never made it easy” 

“You’re right. I’m sorry too.” You finally apologize, and you mean it. You never even suspected the extent to which your actions and words have affected him. You thought you were the only one who truly cared and you did everything in your power to hide that from him so he wouldn’t hurt you with it. 

“But,” You take a deep breath, almost wishing you could stop here and just forgive him and take him back. But you know you can’t. You’d just come back here again. “I don’t if I can trust you.”

"Don't then.” He answers simply and you’re lost. “I'm not sure I trust you either.”

You frown, even more confused, and he continues. “Neither of us has really earned the other’s trust. But we can try." He pauses, brushing your hair out of your face and looking you deep in the eyes. "Do you love me still?"

"Yes." There is no use denying it, you do. 

"Then let's earn each other’s trust. I can't promise that I'll never hurt you again but I can promise that I'll do everything in my power not to. I'll never hide you again. I'll do all I can to fix the mistakes that I've made and try to be a boyfriend you'd be proud of. But I need your help. You need to try too."

"I'm scared." You say in a small voice, and he pulls you towards his body, resting his head against yours. "I am too. I'm fucking terrified. But I will never forgive myself if I don't give us another chance."

You take a long pause, the world seeming to hold its breath as you make up your mind. Chan certainly is. And just that, the fact that he looks to be hanging so much onto your decision as if his life depends on it, is what makes it easy for you to choose. He is giving you what you’ve been after all this time--he’s showing you that he wants you and that he cares. And that’s all you needed from him. 

“Okay. Let’s do it.” 

The smile that lights up his face is gorgeous, and you’re sorry to dim it before it has the chance to fully bloom. “But you have to promise me one thing first.” 

“Anything.” He answers confidently as if there wasn’t anything in the world he couldn’t do for you.

“You have to promise me that you’ll forgive Felix.” 

He clearly didn’t see that one coming from the way he pulls back and his smile disappears like it was never there. “I can’t do that. He's the only one I have told what you were to me. He’s the only one that knew. And he tried to take you away from me!” 

“He’s just misguided.” You try to explain. “He’s young and restless and he doesn’t know who he is because he was never allowed to explore himself or the world. You’ve always dictated to him what to do and how to feel.”

“So you’re on his side?” Chan asks incredulously, “He betrayed me!”

“I did too but you forgive me. He deserves forgiveness too. The only reason he got so upset about the way you were treating me is because he saw himself in me. He’s scared that you’d abandon him if he does anything you don’t approve of and so he freaked out and crossed the line.” 

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stand up, wobbling on your feet and Chan rushes to steady you. You take the chance to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close, whispering gently to him, “He just needs some space, that’s all. And trust. Show him that you have a little faith in him, and he’ll come around. I know he will.” 

You kiss the corner of Chan’s mouth and he turns his head slightly so he can kiss you fully. You kiss him back passionately, helping him stay grounded as he takes his time to come to a decision. 

Finally, he pulls away, eyes still closed. “Okay.”

You smile happily, eyes getting a little misty at the extent of emotions filling up your chest. And for the first time in a while, they’re mostly good. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

___________________________

A/N: I will literally die if you don’t tell me what you think of the ending

[writertitan]

Nice! May I request romantic relationship headcanons for Levi, Pieck and Jean? And what do you think are their ideal s/o?Thank you very much!! ❤️

living for Pieck content rn so thank you

Levi

is adamant about saying “hello” and “goodbye”

will genuinely get especially upset if you don’t say goodbye back lmao

“Bye” ...... “Did you hear me, I said ‘bye’”

stems from the fact that he’s lost people and wasn’t able to say goodbye and doesn’t want either of you to go through that (just in case) 

does not beat around the bush, if he senses that you’re upset about something he will bring it up and encourage you to talk about it and will just listen if you don’t want any advice

will also just sit there with you literally as long as you need if you just need to decompress and want some company 

shows his affection by making fun of you lmfao 

but it’s like inside joke stuff a lot of the time, nothing that would actually upset you/embarrass you in front of other people 

like if you one time accidentally put salt instead of sugar in some tea, he will give you shit about it forever 

you’ll say you’re making tea and you’re sure to hear some stupid shit like, “Not poisoned, please” 

a guaranteed way to get a lil laugh out of him every time is by trying to wrestle him 

and he won’t let you win because he’s a little shit

he thinks it’s genuinely funny that you even try to wrestle him 

but he does always kiss your head afterward, v cute 

he actually brings out his crude humor more because of you, bc you like it, don’t lie 

not the jealous type but is protective and will kick ass if provoked

I see Levi’s type as being someone who is very resilient but also very emotionally intelligent, especially because he’s so hard to read. Body language is more his style rather than actually using his words. Actions do speak louder than words with Levi and I think his ideal S/O would likely have to have the same mindset. However, when verbal communication is important, I think Levi ideally fits best with someone direct and also doesn’t beat around the bush. I don’t think he’d be into fighting, more like discussing if one or both of you is upset. Also, I think Levi would just seek out someone who is warm, and can still see the brighter side to life. I think it would help him immensely to have his S/O be someone who is a genuinely happy person with a lot of love to give. God knows Levi deserves gdi!! 

Pieck

she would be THE most praise-filled partner lmao

like for literally anything, she would make sure you knew she was so proud of you/happy for you

will make anything something to celebrate

even just the littlest thing. did you have a really good day at work? yay! she’s buying you your fav treat 

of course, BIG accomplishments come with BIG celebrations

she’s the S/O who plans you a surprise party but you might get a little suspicious just bc you know she likes to do shit like this lmao 

she’s grateful that you act surprised anyway

won’t apologize for spooking you when she just decides to get on all fours and you walk in on her crawling around LMAO 

“you know I do this all the time, why do you still scream like that?” - she still says this like twice a week 

quality time quality time quality time, she loves quality time

you both have a couples’ hobby to bond over 

something like baking too where it serves a purpose and is fun with her 

not afraid to be affectionate and is always squeezing your arm, holding your hand, poking at you

PDA queen

might even (aka absolutely does) have a problem with remembering boundaries because she’s just so willing to touch and be touched lmaooo

your friends and your family all love the h*ck out of her 

Because it’s a head canon that Pieck just always looks as things as “glass half full”, I do think she’d benefit from having her S/O be a little more grounded and down to earth just to keep her out of trouble. But also, she would loooove someone who also chooses positivity. Life is short (especially for canonverse Pieck), so making memories would be really important to her and she of course prefers to make really happy ones. I think she’d prefer her S/O to be allll about physical affection because she’d prefer someone who was 110% okay with PDA. I also think ideally, she’d be great with someone who is a really good listener and also knows exactly what to say to her when she does happen to have a bad day and gets a little sad. Pieck is just queen shit for life!!! 

Jean

is the sass master lmfao

he thrives, simply thrives, on your attention

is always trying to get your attention 

“Babe, look at me, watch me do this new thing I just learned!!” 

you don’t understand, he will actually die if you don’t pay attention to him

always showing off to impress you

even if you’ve been dating a while, he needs to impress you and he needs to have your attention on him 

will act casual about doing romantic things like buying flowers, gifting you little trinkets, and will pretend to be embarrassed when you get excited, but he loves doing them and loves how excited you get 

and he thinks he’s being sly about being so casual and getting “embarrassed” but this boy is just an open book

you will never have to question his feelings for you because, again, he’s an open book whether he likes it or not 

even before dating when he was just crushing hard, everyone knew he liked you (including you), he literally just can’t hide his feelings for you

absolutely acts like hot shit in front of everyone but when it’s just you two, he’s such a baby

like tbh if you don’t baby him, jean will whine about it 

loves witty banter with you and you guys have so many inside jokes that it’s annoying to everyone else 

you two are THE couple in the corner judging everyone and snickering about it

he’s not obsessive about PDA but his favorite thing is when his arm is around your shoulders and you reach up to hold his hand that’s hanging off your shoulder idk i can’t explain why this is such a big jean hc for me 

I think Jean would actually do well with another hothead and it’s just such a head canon for me! Not like always fighting or anything, but it just seems like he’d love his S/O to be just as open about their emotions. And honestly, he needs to date someone who can take his sense of humor and can take his own ridic temper, and not only take it, but know how to steady him/cool him down. I think he would learn how to do this for his S/O as well, learning not only what buttons to push (because he would learn that just for shits and giggles), but know how to undo it and settle you down and make you happy. Jean would be that boyfriend who genuinely isn’t afraid to seek validation from you and I think his ideal S/O would be someone who puts him as a priority and is okay with constantly reassuring him that he’s a priority and showing him that he is. He’s a loyal boy and I think he would ideally prefer someone who goes all in just like him. Jean just needs a hug and he’s not afraid to ask his partner for one!! 

[shig-a-shig-ah]

Please I'm on my hands and knees begging for some kind of angst/comfort or whatever sequel to Solace what do I have to pay to see it at last

You know what, anon? Fuck it—ask and you shall receive. 

DISCOMFIT ━ PART 2 OF SOLACE

» pairing: dabi x fem!reader, previous shigaraki tomura x reader

» cw: noncon, free use (mostly implied/referenced), implied anal, mentions of cheating, little bit of comfort, whole lot of angst. 18+, minors DNI.

» a/n: This picks up exactly where Solace left off, and isn’t exactly canon-compliant because the war arc hadn’t ended when I first posted Solace. It’s also more angsty than smutty, but def still NSFW. As always, reblogs, replies, etc. are welcome <3

» wc: 5.3k

» ao3 mirror

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There's lead in Dabi's stomach as Shigaraki drags you towards the door, and he's already scrambling to tug on his sweats, staggering to his feet as though he could effectively intervene. He'd heard the threats hissed in your ear, the ones scattered among the taunts Dabi had tried so hard to counter with his own exaltations, but he hadn't been prepared for them to be genuine, had thought that in the end Shigaraki would view your shame as his own. That he wouldn't want to make this betrayal public, not really.

Apparently, Dabi was wrong.

When you're hauled across the threshold, he falters. The thought of your imminent defilement is enough to make him feel sick, bile rising at the back of his throat as his gut twists; he doesn't think he could bear to witness such a desecration. But in the end he also doesn't have a choice—Shigaraki pauses in the doorway, his vicious gaze fixing on Dabi as he gives the order. "You're coming too."

Dabi's throat tightens, because he knows there's no use trying to oppose Shigaraki's will, not with his newfound power. And there's no clemency in the man's burning red eyes, no hints that Tomura has doubts about his chosen retribution, nothing at all to give Dabi hope that perhaps the pale-haired man can be dissuaded from this corrective action.

So Dabi swallows back that bitter taste in his mouth, and he follows.

***

Your heart is in your throat as you're dragged into the hall for the second time, only vaguely aware of Dabi trailing behind, failing to interfere though you don't blame him for that, could never condemn him when this is so much more your fault than his. Had you ever really thought you could gladden yourself with Dabi's comfort and then return unscathed to Shigaraki's arms?

You're loud at first, and desperate. You rake at Tomura's forearm as you try to free yourself from his bruising grip, clawing until red droplets are blooming from the scratches on his skin and his flesh collects beneath your nails, but those marks knit themselves back together almost as quickly as you carve them in. Your feet scrabble ineffectually against the carpet too, trying to slow Tomura's movements, but all that accomplishes is friction burns when you stumble, collapsing to your knees even as Shigaraki continues his unyielding march, dragging you along without so much as a backwards glance.

You beg shamelessly again too, pleading with him to stop, to not, to simply let you go. You swear that you'll leave, that he'll never have to see you again, but he ignores those cries just as he does your pathetic attempts to grapple yourself free. It isn't until your implorations grow quieter, more disheartened, that he pauses—you're weeping, not even thinking about what you're saying, rash words falling from your lips. "Tomu, please, I'm sorry, it was a mistake. Please, if you ever cared about me, just let me go."

It's then that he freezes in place, every muscle in his body going rigid, the cords in his neck standing out as he whirls around to face you. His eyes are impossibly wide, his mouth twisted in disgust, and something dark flashes behind his expression, something that, but for a moment, makes him look wounded rather than filled with rage. It's gone almost as soon as it comes, replaced by an expression stonier than any he's fixed you with thus far. He spits his retort through gritted teeth, his tone so tight and glacial that it sends a shiver down your exposed spine.

"Who could ever care about a whore like you?"

***

Dabi can see you struggling, tears streaming down your reddened cheeks as you beg, but he hears none of those supplications, hears nothing but blood rushing in his ears and the wet glug of his throat every time he tries to swallow down the lump that has lodged itself there. Just moving forward consumes all his focus; this sprawling mansion may as well extend for miles for all the effort it takes him to continue putting one foot in front of the other as Shigaraki tows you down the hall.

Your grotesque procession ends in the cavernous ballroom on the ground floor. It's ornate even in its empty glory, sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows and glinting off the crystal of the chandelier that hangs unlit from the ceiling. Dozens of observers trail behind, every inquiring mind that had peered out to investigate the commotion now obeying Shigaraki's commands for them to follow. They're watching warily, whispering behind their hands as their eyes flick curiously from Dabi, shirtless and shaking, to Shigaraki and you.

Dabi comes back into himself when Shigaraki hurls you unceremoniously to the floor, the sharp crack of your head against the hardwood echoing loudly enough to breach the disassociated haze in which he's been trapped. The sight of your face, dazed by the blow, has him instinctually moving forward, but he's stopped at once when a chiseled arm casts itself across his chest, halting his movements. A low growl issues from the back of Shigaraki's throat. "Don't."

It was easier not to protest Shigaraki's rough treatment of you when the three of you were alone in Dabi's bedroom. He'd been able to convince himself then that Shigaraki had some claim on you, some right to do what he was doing, a sense that had been given all the more weight by your own equivocal response to those harsh touches. But the sight of you now, curled on the floor clutching your head, your legs tucked to your chest as though that could somehow preserve your modesty, is harder to abide. It has heat roiling under Dabi's skin, his insides near-roasting as he does his best to restrain himself, to keep emotions too tumultuous to define from bubbling up and setting him alight.

So Dabi looks away. He does his best to tamp down on that growing heat and to endure, to think about the importance of being there for you. After.

Even after Tomura extends his sadistic invitation to the assembled remnants of the Paranormal Liberation Front, Dabi is naive enough at first to hope that no one will take the bait, that even a crowd of villains won't be depraved enough to indulge in what Shigaraki is offering. Except, Dabi had, hadn't he? Had found his own satisfaction in the first part of Shigaraki's punishment, even as you'd wept. He tries to tell himself that was different—he'd already had you, more than once and voluntarily, and you'd asked for him, implored him so desperately that he couldn't have refused, especially not when it was something Shigaraki had been so intent on enacting.

A darker thought flits across the back of Dabi's mind when he remembers the way you'd writhed under Tomura's domineering touch: if Shigaraki insists on it, will you beg here too?

It's a question that goes unanswered. You spend less than a minute sniffling on the floor surrounded by that mob of villains, and then Dabi's glancing up against his better judgement to see Re-Destro stepping forward, dark eyes glinting with curiosity as he shrugs off his suit jacket and loosens his tie, the balding sycophant unabashedly eager to avail himself of Shigaraki's sloppy seconds.

All your struggling has ceased; you're not trying to leave or asking for help, or mercy. Dabi's not sure if you're still trying to please Shigaraki or are only clinging to some last shred of dignity, if he should be disgusted or proud. Still, you flinch when the redhead crouches to trace one large hand up the outside of your thigh, and that small sign of discomfort is enough to have Dabi moving without thinking, every fiber of his body screaming out to defend you from that unwanted touch. But he only manages one feeble step forward before Shigaraki's hand is curling in his hair, yanking him back so hard that Dabi's scalp throbs. Shigaraki maintains that tight hold, leaving Dabi immobilized and with no choice left but to keep staring forward.

"You're going to watch every second," Shigaraki hisses.

Dabi nods. Grinds his teeth. Watches.

***

He thinks nothing could be worse than the powerlessness he feels as Re-Destro takes you. It's a sense of impotence that settles in his bones, that unearths and amplifies every inadequacy he endured in his youth until his knees are weak and there's blood leaking from the corners of his eyes. Just like back then, he's too weak to do what is needed. He can only watch in dismay as someone slots themselves into a role that should be his.

He's wrong, of course, that nothing could be more horrible than witnessing that first act. It's worse when he starts to notice the familiar tensing in your body, and hears your high-keyed whines reverberating off of walls designed to carry just such a pitch. It's worse when he spies Skeptic with that camera trained on you, documenting your disgrace as he palms himself through his pants, and even worse when Spinner comes forward, casting a long, uncertain glance towards Shigaraki before burying himself in both your holes. It's worse when they stop taking orderly turns coupling with your pliant form and start to share instead, and it's worse still when Dabi realizes that somewhere along the way he's grown shamefully, achingly hard.

But the worst? The absolute worst?

That comes at the end.

You're nothing but a crumpled heap on the floor, one cheek squashed against the stained hardwood, your expression glassy and far away. People have stopped coming forward, all those who wanted a turn having taken one, or more. Their faces are uneasy now that they're spent, murmuring again and shooting furtive looks towards the door, obviously unsure if their continued presence is required but too wary of Shigaraki to ask. So it's Dabi who finally works up the nerve to speak, his voice tight through his clenched jaw.

"You did what you wanted. Now can we go?"

A sense of relief washes over him when Shigaraki releases him, but it's short-lived as the other man fixes that red-eyed stare on Dabi.

"Huh," he muses thickly, his expression unreadable as he cocks his head. "You still want her."

Dabi hesitates. Because he knows Shigaraki doesn't want that to be true, is intent on ripping apart whatever tenuous connection you and Dabi have forged over the past weeks, but Dabi's not sure that such a thing is possible. Right now he can't imagine the future any further than getting you both far, far away from here, but even after watching you submit to Shigaraki so readily, after seeing you clench and moan while being offered up like so much meat, Dabi doesn't think he could ever turn you away, not so long as you want him. So he nods.

Shigaraki's unreadable expression morphs, his lips splitting into a wide, depraved grin. "Fine." There's something in his tone that has Dabi's chest tightening with dread already, a sense that only intensifies when Shigaraki continues. "Finish her off, and you can have her. After all, what the fuck do I care if you want to keep the toy you damaged?"

Dabi swallows hard, looking around again. The crowd is watching intently, exchanging hushed whispers, and he knows they can hear every word, have no doubt anymore about just what has happened here, if they had any doubts before.

"Better get on with it," Tomura jeers, followed by a quiet, callous chuckle. "Take the last turn, and the two of you can go. Or don't, and I'll keep her here for days."

Fuck, Dabi can feel the weight of all those eyes on him, of dozens of gazes flicking between his torn expression and your used up form. He wants to say he can't, that he could never, but it's not the truth. The thought alone might have him fighting back a wave of nausea but that doesn't mean he isn't still erect, tenting his pants in a way that's painfully obvious to himself and to everyone else. Physically, at least, Dabi absolutely could.

He takes a step closer to you. Grimaces. He wants to reach out to you, to give you the reassurance of a soothing touch, but there's nowhere your skin isn't reddened or contused, the evidence of that damage exaggerated by the sheen of sweat and worse coating your skin. Your eyes roll up just enough to meet his hesitant stare, and Dabi gives you what he hopes is an apologetic look.

Dabi does what he has to do.

***

The moment it's over Dabi is scooping you up, hooking his arms around your shoulders and behind your bruised knees and lifting you gingerly from the floor, taking you in his arms as gently as he can manage. Your eyes drift to him again, the corners of your lips twitching and a tiny whimper issuing from the back of your throat, a sound so small and feeble that Dabi has to bite hard at the inside of his cheek to maintain some semblance of composure.

He avoids making eye contact with anyone as he leaves, not even sparing a glance towards Shigaraki to confirm this is really over; if the other man decides to change his mind, Dabi's sure it will be painfully obvious. But no one tries to stop him from taking you—he flees the scene of your discrediting successfully, with his heart pounding and his eyes fixed firmly on the floor ahead of him. Just as when he'd followed Shigaraki's march before, he puts one foot in front of the other and wills himself to think of nothing else.

It's difficult. Your skin is slick against his unclothed chest, and feels feverish. Every time he shifts you, he can feel wetness dribbling down your thighs as he tries to lie to himself it's nothing. Tries not to give it any attention at all.

Dabi's never been very good at deceiving himself, and it's all the harder now with the images of your defilement burned into his retinas—Shigaraki knew just what would make him suffer, Dabi has to admit that much.

When he reaches his room, he sets you gently to the floor, whispers that he'll be right back and then disappears into the bathroom, shutting the door tightly behind him. He cranks on the bathtub—it will be necessary to clean you up since he's certain you couldn't stand if you tried. It also serves to drown out the sounds to come, because the moment the water starts pouring he's lunging for the toilet and heaving his guts into the bowl, coughing and sputtering as he retches.

By the time he's finished being sick, the tub is nearly full.

He checks the temperature of the water. Once, twice. Three times. It's hard for him to gauge it adequately when he runs so hot, and the last thing he wants is to scald your abused skin or any of those tender, overworked parts. When he's finally wrangling you into the tub, he dips your hand in first, one final test to ease his anxious mind.

"That feel all right, baby girl?" He's not sure if you really nod, or if you're simply shifting a little, but either way he takes it as a yes.

In the end, it doesn't matter so much. The water turns disgusting almost the moment you're submerged, an oily sheen rising to the surface that Dabi doesn't want to think too hard about it. He drains it and doesn't repeat that mistake, only fills it a few inches full the second time and then scoops water over your irritated skin to rinse away the worst of the mess, a painstakingly slow but necessary measure. He repeats it twice and only after that muck stops rising to the top does he let the water creep higher so that he can wash you properly.

He starts with your hair. It's another slow process, trying to keep from snagging your damp tresses on the staples that line his palms as he massages shampoo into your scalp, and moving carefully to avoid the lump that's formed at the back of your head, where it cracked against the hardwood floor. He does his best not to grimace visibly at that swelling, does the same as he's working sweat and sticky clumps out of your matted locks—your eyes are still bleary but he knows you're watching him, and he couldn't bear for you to see how much it affects him to witness you like this.

Conditioner is probably an unnecessary touch, but he works it in anyway once the last of the suds have been rinsed away, thinks it might help you to feel some sense of normalcy, if that's even still a possibility for you. He lets it soak in while he tends to the rest of your inflamed skin, trying best as he can to be gentle, though that doesn't stop you from wincing every time he brushes over some raw, tender spot. When he finally works the washcloth between your thighs, the last horribly necessary task left, you let out a choked sob, your face contorting in distress in a way that has his throat tightening again.

"Shh, baby girl," Dabi soothes, his voice raw even to his own ears as he lifts a hand to stroke at your hair. "It's okay. I've got you."

You can't help but wonder if that's entirely true as you bite back more complaints and let him tend to your ravaged sex. You can see the tightness in his face, the way he can't seem to look at you for long, and Shigaraki's words keep running through your mind, a grim mantra that sticks in your head even more than the memories of the past few hours.

You'll be ruined for him, just like you're ruined for me.

The thought is enough to have panic brewing in your chest, a near-hysteria clawing its way through you. Because what would you do without Dabi? Who else would ever want you now? It would be too much to lose them both.

You don't realize tears are streaming down your cheeks until hot thumbs are brushing them away, cerulean eyes fixed worriedly on your own. "It's okay," Dabi murmurs again. "You're okay."

But it's not, you're not, probably won't ever be again, and you need more than those thin reassurances. Your arm aches when you lift one hand to catch his wrist, your feeble grip a reminder of just how worn you really are. "Am I—" your voice is hoarse, your words interrupted by a painful cough as you struggle to speak through your wrecked throat "—am I ruined for you?"

The way his face falls at your question is reassurance enough, that tight expression going slack and defeated, the corners of his brows lifting in grief. Then Dabi's pulling you to his chest, water sloshing over the side of the tub and cool porcelain digging into your side as he wraps both arms around you, his face burying itself in your damp strands as he cradles you close.

"No. No, of course not, baby girl. Never."

***

When Dabi finally releases you, he leaves you soaking in the tub long enough to take a shower. He's loath to abandon you for even one second, but he needs that cleansing and, more than that, needs a moment to breath. Because you'd never clung to him so eagerly before, never needed him the same way he needed you, not when you had someone else to hold tightly to.

So just now, when you'd burrowed against his chest and made clear that he was the one you were counting on? Well, he'd be lying if he said it hadn't felt good.

Shigaraki might have succeeded in cracking the pedestal Dabi had placed you on, but all that's truly accomplished is to bring you down to Dabi's level, to a place where he can actually hope to make you his. And Dabi doesn't want to find that thought reassuring, doesn't want to dwell on the realization that this whole fucked up situation might be the only way he'll get the one thing he still wants in life. But he does.

He cranks the heat in the shower as high as it will go as he tries to wash away that guilt, but the scalding water isn't enough. It can't rinse out the shame of finding personal satisfaction in your suffering, just like it can't scour away the memories of obeying Shigaraki's final order, of burying his length in the slick sensation of a dozen other men's seed, of squeezing your thighs together in a desperate bid to create some sort of friction, or of sinking himself into your tighter hole when it seemed like the only way to end that agony.

The list of things that require Dabi's contrition is endless, it seems.

Perhaps it's some kind of fucked up penance, then, that once you're both clean Dabi finds himself offering to go collect your things from the room you'd shared with Shigaraki.

It's an offer born of necessity; you have nothing to wear and while Dabi would love to dress you in his clothes, would relish the sight of you parading around in some oversized shirt that belongs to him, the way you had with Shigaraki's clothes back in the old hideout, he has nothing to offer on that front. An extensive wardrobe isn't among his precious few possessions—the options are his filthy tee shirt and jeans, the ones that reek of booze and ash, or his sweats, amply stained from your walk of shame. None of that seems anywhere near adequate.

So Dabi grits his teeth yet again, tugs on those dirty clothes himself and leaves you tucked safely in his bed, bundled in his only towel. There's an anxious look in your eyes as he departs, one that has a strange thrill coursing through him as he murmurs a promise to return quickly.

He tells himself as he journeys down the hall—pointedly ignoring every person he passes—that Shigaraki won't be there. Dabi's seen the boss angry before, knows he's one to wander and destroy rather than to sulk, and if Dabi were a betting man he would wager that Shigaraki won't be setting foot in the room he'd shared with you any time soon.

Unfortunately, Dabi is wrong once again. There's no answer when he knocks, but when he slips inside it becomes painfully obvious that lack of response wasn't because the quarters were unoccupied. He pauses inside the door, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, and is almost immediately assaulted by the sounds issuing from around the corner, just out of sight: sheets rustling and heavy breathing, the faint slap of skin on skin, a quiet moan.

Fuck. Fuck no. This is the last thing that Dabi wants or needs to witness, even if the stab of incredulity and anger he feels about it is undeserved. It's how he himself would have coped, he knows, had Shigaraki's return to the Liberation Front and your return to him gone according plan, but the thought that he could avail himself of this ever after today's display has Dabi's stomach twisting.

He holds his breath as he immediately retreats, the carpet muffling his slow, quiet steps. Dabi will try something else, ask Toga to loan you some things, or rifle through the remnants of Jin's possessions if he has to. All he has do is get out of here without—

"What do you think you're doing?"

The sound of Shigaraki's low voice has Dabi freezing in place. He sounds different than when they last spoke, some faint trace of amusement there in place of that calculated callousness. Dabi keeps still, tries to convince himself that it's not him Shigaraki is addressing, but that hope proves unfounded.

"I can smell you, you know. You reek of smoke. So why don't you stop hiding and tell me why the fuck you're here?"

Dabi's first instinct is to simply turn and leave, to avoid this unpleasant encounter all together and pray Tomura will simply return his attentions to whoever had the poor judgement to leap into his bed. But in the end he steps forward, not willing to test the other man further than he has with his mere presence, not when there's still a sinister edge to his tone and the damage Dabi's wrought is already likely to haunt him to his dying day.

A light clicks on when Dabi steps into sight, the sudden assault on his pupils making him blink rapidly, and when the room finally swims back into focus, Dabi freezes. Tomura has some woman tucked neatly in his lap, her back nestled to his chest as he peers at Dabi from over her shoulder, the sheets barely covering where Dabi is positive they're joined together.

"I just came to get some of her shit—I didn't think you'd be here," Dabi says flatly, trying to not to let his eyes drift from Tomura's face as deadly hands grope at exposed breasts, dark bite marks and hickeys starkly visible even from the bottom of Dabi's field of vision. "I'll come back later. Or just find her new shit."

"Why bother when you're already here? Just get on with it." Dabi can sense something forced in that casual dismissal of his presence even as Shigaraki lets out a low laugh, and that impression is only strengthened when the woman—some MLA holdover Dabi recognizes but couldn't name—tugs at the edge of the blankets, obviously intent on providing herself with some sort of cover. Shigaraki growls immediately, pale fingers clamping around her wrist so tightly that she whimpers in protest. The first syllable of Tomura's name falls quietly from her lips, a paltry whine that's quashed as soon as it begins, Shigaraki's wide palm slapping harshly over her mouth. His eyes narrow in displeasure as scowling lips ghost over her ear.

"You're the one who wanted to fuck," Dabi hears Shigaraki hiss, "so don't you dare stop."

Dabi might have felt some sympathy for her in another life, some pang of unease at the way her eyes widen and she fidgets nervously before hesitantly rocking her hips, but in this moment he can muster no sympathy, not when her apparently voluntary presence far exceeds even Dabi's expectations for the shamelessness of these meta liberation freaks.

He does, however, feel a twinge of disquiet when he realizes, after a moment of staring, that she looks like you. Not exactly, of course—the nose is wrong, the hairstyle different—but enough. Her hair color, her eyes, her build: they're all reminiscent of your own.

Dabi tries not to think about what that means.

"Well, aren't you going to do what you came for?" Shigaraki taunts. That malicious glint is back in his eyes, the corner of his thin mouth curving up into a smirk that makes it clear he's enjoying Dabi's discomfort at the scene playing out before him. His hands start to wander again as though to emphasize it, pinching and tugging at puffy, exposed nipples while the woman continues to issue muffled mewls from behind his hand. "I'm busy, if you couldn't tell."

Dabi grits his teeth and looks away. "Where is it?"

Shigaraki only shrugs, that sneer widening, and Dabi turns stiffly towards the dresser, doing his best to tune out the soft cries as he rummages through the drawers. After a moment it's clear that nothing within belongs to you, and reluctantly Dabi steps further into the room to search the closet. He finds what he's looking for there, thank god; neatly folded stacks of pants and shirts line the shelves, blouses and those fancy nightgowns you're so fond of arranged neatly on hangars beside them. There's a duffel bag on the floor too, and Dabi quickly busies himself shoving as many of your belongings into it as he can, working with unceremonious haste and chewing at his cheek, still trying to ignore the way the sounds behind him are escalating, the moans and lewd wet smacks growing louder, more rapid.

He only stops when the duffel is overflowing, too stuffed full to even zip shut. It's certainly more than enough for now, but he wonders briefly about the rest of your possessions, if there's some other source of comfort he could and should bring you before Shigaraki decides to dispose of anything you've left behind. But Dabi has no way of knowing, has never been permitted to so much as step foot in this space before.

When the unmistakable sound of a slap emanates from behind him, followed by a throaty groan, Dabi decides it doesn't matter.

It takes him a moment to steel himself, to work up the nerve to turn back towards the room and the vulgar performance occurring mere feet away, but he once he does he strides purposefully towards the door without so much as a glance towards Shigaraki and his new—and very temporary, Dabi suspects—lover. He's almost out the door, seconds from feeling as though he can breath again, when that mocking voice is once again demanding his attention.

"Dabi," Shigaraki calls out liltingly, and Dabi pauses.

"What now?"

His obvious impatience draws a cold chuckle from Tomura. "Don't try to leave. Either of you," Shigaraki says. "The Violet Regiment still needs its lieutenant, and I need you motivated."

For a long moment, Dabi simply stands there, his hand still resting on the knob as he considers those instructions. Shigaraki isn't wrong to think he would consider it; Dabi's mostly accomplished what he hoped to with the League, and his more protective instincts have been screaming at him to get you out of here since the second it was clear Tomura intended to honor his threats. But he'd already had doubts that the jilted man would let that happen, not when the punishment he'd devised is most effective if you're both forced to stay, forced to face everyone who witnessed your downfalls and shared shame.

And also, well...Dabi's more protective instincts might tempt him to flee—he's disappeared before, after all, thinks he could do it again even if it would be harder to evade Shigaraki's reach—but his possessive instincts? Those have more self-serving thoughts brewing in the back of his mind. Because if the castigation you endured is most effective if you stay, it also means that Dabi has no advantage anywhere else. Would you cling to him so sweetly, so fiercely if you weren't surrounded by those who had seen you so thoroughly humbled? Or would such an escape only taint Dabi's presence in your mind, single him out as the last reminder of your humiliation and debasement?

It would, he thinks. So Dabi nods even though Shigaraki can't see him, noting the opportunity present in what was surely intended as a threat. The sadistic leader might be intent on dangling this over both your and Dabi's heads until at least one of you is dead, but Dabi's made the best of bad situations before, ones worse than this.

"Sure thing, boss," he says, working to keep his tone level and mild. He steps out into the hall, lets the door click closed behind him.

For the first time all day, Dabi smiles.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

😡🤬ANGER MANAGEMENT (PART 1)🤬😡

Prompt: Y/N has the life she’s always dreamed of: a good house, a nice car, a fat paycheck, her dream job and some loving friends. Her life feels like a fairytale...but just like every fairytale she’s not safe from the villain, the problem with that? He’s not only an incredibly hot Scotsman but also a fucking pain in the ass!

@drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Reader

Warnings: +18 smut, clit stimulation, angst, dirty talking, cursing, name calling,(possible part 2?Idk)

Notes: I think it’s time for me to face my biggest fear: Drew McIntyre! 😂 all jokes aside, I’ve lost count of how many one shots I have written and soon after deleted about this handsome hunk. There are so many good stories of him out there that I’ve always felt like mine were actually horse shit compared to those so I’ve never had the courage to make this Scottish wet dream an official brand of my writing, but I’m looking forward to achieve new accomplishments on my writing in 2021, so here goes nothing folks! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Oh Thank God! Just the woman I wanted to see”

I turned around to meet Becky Lynch, one of the few dear close friends I’ve made while working for the WWE as a massage therapist.

“Hey Becks! What’s up?”

“Y/N I need your help, I was doing some training with the guys when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and now I feel like I wanna cry”

“Oh Becky, c’mon let’s go to my office”

Once we got there I mentioned for her to sit on the massage table.

“So tell me exactly what you were doing”

“I was doing some regular weightlifting, then all of a sudden I felt this sharp pain stretch from my elbow to my shoulder”

“Ok, did you warmed up before hand?”

“Yes”

“Did you added the weights in progressively or were you in some sort of competition against Sheamus, Cesaro and McIntyre as to whom could perform a proper weightlifting faster?” I crooked my eyebrow

“Y/N! You know I would never do that” She tried to hide her shame for being caught

“Becky, I know you! I know how competitive you are and how competitive you GET when you train with Sheamus, Cesaro and the Scottish prick.”

“They started ok?! They said I was no match for them, so I had to make them swallow word by word” She said slightly angry

“Calm down” I chuckled “And I presume you won?”

“Of course I won! As if they stood a chance” She scoffed

I touched her shoulder and palmed the back of her upper arm til I reached her elbow

“And your prize for that my darling is” I looked into her eyes “Six muscular knots, probably some small damage to your elbow nerves resulting in a little trip to the physical therapists and shit ton of pain, congratulations! Are you happy now?”

“Oh no!” She whined “Y/N, please don’t send me to the physical therapists, they will eat my ass off and they’re gonna tell Hunter about this. Please Y/N, please tell me you can fix it?” She stared at me with begging eyes

“Becks” I sighed “I can undo the muscular knots but I ain’t no fairy godmother! If you have some sort of nerve damage that’s up to the physical therapists...there’s nothing I can do about that honey”

“Please Y/N give me some of the red magical relief juice you gave to Kofi” She pleads

“Red magical relief juice?” I asked confused

“Yes, Kofi said he had this horrible pain from an injury and you gave him this red magical relief juice that helped him better than any medicine! Please give that to me too!”

I laughed before answering

“Oh Kofi, Kofi... it’s not an juice, it’s a liquid... a toner. A home made medicine I learned with my grandma. Technically I’m not even allowed to use that, but I know it works, better than these crap versions of Vick’s Vapor Rub” I tossed a little small green package in the trash can.

“Can you give that to me?” She asked with her eyes full of hope

“Fine” I said and she smiles widely

“But, you have to promise me that you will stop with these stupid and senseless competitions! They could permanently damage your nerves you know?!”

“Ok I promise”

I took a small plastic bottle from the cabinet and filled up with some small amount of the toner and placed the bottle inside a small paper bag. I also gave her a little bit of my grandma’s famous ointment in a tiny tin can.

“Alright, so here’s what you’re gonna do: once you get to your hotel room, you’ll take a hot shower and before you put your clothes on, you’re gonna rub the toner from your neck to your elbow all over your shoulder and back upper arm” She nods and I proceed “Then right after you’re going to take a small amount of this ointment” I show her the little tin can “And rub it all over your shoulder, back upper arm and elbow. Right afterwards you get dress with a long sleeve shirt and go to bed. Remember that you cannot leave your skin exposed to the cold air of air conditioning, because if you do it will make your pain and damage way worse! Do you hear me?”

“Yes Ma’am”

“If in three to four days you still feel any sort of pain you’re gonna have to go to the physical therapists”

“Ok”

“Becky I’m serious”

“Okay Y/N I got it” She smiles softly

“Good, now please, don’t tell anyone about this” I shook the little bag “And tell Kofi to keep his mouth shut. I know he means well but I could get fired for this”

“My lips are sealed” She pressed her lips in a thin line

“Thank you” I chuckled “Now, go on and take 20 drops of this” I give her some Ibuprofen “And come back in 20 minutes”

“Why?” She asks confused

“Because we still have to undo those knots and it’s not gonna be the fun kind of pain my dear”

“Argh” She groans

One week later

I was finishing tidying up the massage table from the session I just had with Bayley when someone knocked on my office door

“Come on in”

“Hey Y/N” Seth Rollins said in a voice full of pain as he tried to walk towards me

“Seth are you ok? Jesus, you look like somebody just kicked your balls so hard that they went up to your throat! What happened?” I tried to hold back my laugh

“A long story involving Cesaro and Drew. Moral of the story is my back is fucked up, do you think you can help me?”

“Can you lay down here?” I patted the table

“I guess so” He made his way to it excruciatingly slow as I helped him to lay down

“Where’s the pain worst?”

“My lower back” I touched and he gasped in pain

“Do you think you could give me some of that red magical relief juice?” He whispered so only I could hear it.

Of course I wasn’t surprised about him knowing of the “magical relief juice” since he and Becky were together I figured she told him.

“Did Becky told you?”

“Only today, once she saw I was in a tremendous pain...When she was using it I pressed her to tell me who gave it to her but she didn’t wanted to say, she said it was her fairy godmother”

I couldn’t help but smile at Becky’s inside joke and loyalty. I truly love that girl.

“Sure thing Rollins, just please don’t-“

“I won’t tell anyone Y/N don’t worry! Your witchy recipe is safe with me” He chuckled “Ouch fuck, that hurts” He groaned

“Did you bring any jacket on with you?” I laugh

“Yeah Becky told me to”

“Ok, let’s get start it”

Forty minutes and a relaxed thankful Seth Rollins later. I was finishing washing my hands while Seth pulled the zipper of his jacked up. I could feel his eyes on me

“What is it Rollins?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“If the question is if I am a 450 year old witch then my answer is, you will never know” I whisper as I turn to face him with a smirk

He laughs before saying “Well I’m sure you are sweetheart” He winks playfully “But that’s not the question though unfortunately”

“What is it then?”

He looked at me with a sense of caution before asking

“Why do you hate Drew so much?”

“McIntyre? The Scottish prick? The shitty bearded version of Gastón from Beauty and The Beast?” I ask in disbelief

My hatred for Drew McIntyre goes way back to 5 years ago. To make a long story short he has being a pain in my ass every since I started working here. It all resumes to the bad flirting and endless fights. We’ve always fought at least 3 times a week for as long as I can remember. It’s like a weekly ritual for us, and our fights are always petty and ridiculous such as who will get in the elevator first or who will rent the last SUV car.

“Yeah...” He answers slightly embarrassed

“Well that’s simple, he’s an asshole! A smug fucker who thinks he’s the most beautiful man to ever walk the earth and that every woman alive must fall for him in all fours”

“Is there anything else beyond that?” He asks

“No! Of course not!” I lied. As if I could tell him about my deep sexual desire for the Scotsman

“Are you sure? I mean, you must agree with me that he is very beautiful” Seth answers

“I’m not saying he’s not. I have eyes, so trust me, I know he’s hot as fuck and a very handsome man but that doesn’t mean that every woman on this company wants him!” I scoffed

“Does the ‘every woman’ equals Y/N?”

“Why are you asking me this?” I asked aggressively

“Look, there’s no need for you to get all defensive ok? I’m your friend and I’m just asking this as a friend. I’m not coming for you by any means” He says with a soothing voice

“Sorry, it was just my automatic response”

“It’s okay sweetie”

“But Seth...why this question now?”

“Let’s just say that I may or may not have heard some backstage talk and I would like to know this from your own mouth instead of other people’s”

“Backstage talk? About what?” I ask angrily

His eyes widened “You know what? Let’s forget I ever men-“

“No no no Rollins you’ve started this now you will finish it!” Now I was really angry

“Fuck, I should’ve kept my mouth shut” He murmured

“But you didn’t! So spit it out”

“Ok...I’ve heard one of the girls say that the reason why you hate Drew so much is because you kinda have a hidden want for him to fuck you but since he’s ‘not interested’ you get pissed off” He whispered

“I WHAT??? WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT?”

“Y/N please keep your voice down! Somebody is gonna hear you”

“I COULD GIVE TWO FUCKS IF SOMEBODY CAN HEAR ME! Who’ve said that Seth?” I was boiling with rage

“Sweetie, I’m not gonna tell you who’ve said it because I know you will-“

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and whispered

“If you don’t tell me who’ve said that right now Rollins I swear to God on God in heaven that I will cut your balls off and shove them down your throat!”

He gulped

“Now who’ve said that?”

“Carmella” He whispered and I smiled letting go of his collar “Y/N please don’t do anything stupid!” He said as I removed my coat

“Don’t forget to rub the toner on your back once you’re out of the shower” I patted his shoulder and made my way to the door

“Y/N where are you going? Y/N please whatever you’re thinking about doing it, just don’t ok? She’s not worth it! Y/N PLEASE!”

But his screams were now faint as I make my way down the hallway to find the blond gossiper girl.

I finally find Carmella “talking”, to Sheamus in one of the hallways.

“Oi Y/N, how’s life treating ya lass?” Sheamus smiles widely at me, making his usual greeting. At any other day it would’ve made my afternoon happier to find that amazing Irish man, but not today! I was so furious that I ignored him and went directly to Carmella

“Would you mind telling me why the fuck are you not only minding my business but also spreading rumors about me and McIntyre?”

From where I stood I saw Sheamus visibly gulp

“Hey Y/N, what do ya say about we go to tha catering grab some coffee huh?” He said urgently pleading

“So? I’m waiting for an answer” I said to her fully ignoring what he just said

“Well Y/N, from woman to woman, I think we both can agree that it’s no rumor. It’s quite visible, to not say pathetic, the way you can’t deal with rejection my dear” She batted her lashes

“And what exactly are you implying?”

“The obvious Y/N! That you want Drew in between your legs but he doesn’t! I mean, let’s face it, he’s too much of a man for you anyways! It’s not like you can handle him, because we know you can’t” She measured me from head to toe making me feel very conscious about the difference between her slim toned body and my thick one full of curves.

I know that most of the men’s in this company usually date or even have one night stands with women who were body equivalent to their own - slender and beautifully toned - , but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t saw my own curvy beauty. Hell, I even got some dinner invitations from some of the guys! Cesaro, Baron Corbin, Finn Bálor and even Seth Rollins (before he got with Becky) were some of them.

“I bet that I received more dinner invitations in a week than you in a year” I scoffed

“But not from the man you want the most right darling?” She evilly grins and I see red! Pure rage in it’s rawest form took ahold of me and I jumped towards her neck but a pair of strong arms stopped me from attacking her.

“Wow, easy now lass” He said

HIM! The cause of all this gossiping with my name, I couldn’t get even more angry even if I tried.

“Let me go McIntyre!” I roar

“Uh, enjoy it while it lasts Y/N, it’s as far as you’ll ever get anyways” Carmella chuckles

I tried to wiggle out of his arms “What the fuck did you just said bitch? I’ll feed you your own teeth you fuck-“

I couldn’t finish my sentence thanks to Drew, who lifted me off from the floor and tossed me on his shoulder, taking me to back my office.

“What are you doing? Let me go! I’m gonna punch her stupid rat’s face!”

“No you won’t”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m preventing your ass from getting fired!” He answers

I tried to release myself from him, but who was I fooling? The man is a brick wall, I couldn’t let myself go not even if I tried hard!

Once we got into my office he locked the door, placing himself in front of it and released me.

“Don’t you never, EVER, dare to manhandle me like that again! Do you hear me?” I stare at him with my eyes full of rage

“You know Y/N, all that anger is not good for you...you could have a heart attack” He chuckled

I was so mad, that tears of anger rolled down my cheeks as I cut the small distance between us and begin to punch his torso, arms or whatever I could reach

“I HATE YOU! YOU’RE THE REASON WHY I AM NOW A FUCKING BACKSTAGE GOSSIP SUBJECT! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU’RE SO FULL OF YOURSELF AREN’T YOU HUH? SHITTY ASS GASTÓN!”

I was starting to loose my strength due to my ferocious attack, and I would be damned if I let him see that...

When suddenly everything changed, the air in the room thickened and I saw myself now pressed against the door with my hands forcefully pinned on top of my head.

“Aww, that was sweet princess” He smirks confidently

“What are you doing Drew? Let me go” I murmured

“Oh it’s Drew now huh? Why the sudden change love? What happened with ‘Scottish prick, asshole and Gastón’?” He cackled “What’s wrong princess? Not feeling so confident and in charge anymore are we?” He pouts

“You’re hurting me” I lied

“Nu uh, we both know that, that’s a lie. I know you Y/N, every inch of you so don’t you lie to me now! That’s not what pretty little girls like you do” He reprimanded me

I felt confused and slightly turned on by his whole dominant character. But still I felt the urge to fight back.

“And what do you know about me McIntyre? NOTHING! So don’t YOU dare to pretend that you do! You know nothing about who I am or my needs, so quit the act”

He laughed before saying “And that’s where you’re wrong princess” He towered over me, securing my wrists with one of his hands while the other grabbed my cheeks making my lips pout(like one would with a child) and tilted my head up to meet his blue gaze.

“You see Y/N, we’ve known each other for what? 5 years? I’ve done a lot of observing in those years... I became quite good at reading you” He leaned forward..his beard,lips and mustache brushing against my own lips

“So I know for a fact that what triggered you into fighting Carmella wasn’t what she said...But the fact that what she said is true” He searched my eyes for confirmation and when he found it he smirks in appreciation

A murmured ‘Fuck you’ came out of my lips the best way I could since he had this vicious grip on my cheeks.

“Oh Y/N, Y/N... what am I going to do with you princess?” He asks amused as he release my cheeks “I must say though... I agree with almost everything Carmella said” He vaguely added

Pure humiliation filled me, the thought of him knowing that deep down I had a thing for him which wasn’t reciprocal at all made my stomach turn. I felt the tears of humiliation start to rise to my eyes, but I wouldn’t give him the pleasure to see that he had broken me. Instead I reached for the safety of the one thing I knew I could do: fight!

“You let me go right now you fucker or I swear you will regret it!” I said as threatening as I could

“Oh my, won’t you look at that? Kitty has claws huh?” He chuckled lightly

I took advantage of his distraction and yanked my arms as fast as I could out of his grip. The action caught him by surprise, giving me the upper hand to turn around to unlock the door so I could leave. But his surprise didn’t last long as for he saw what I was about to do and pressed me against the door once more, instead now my back was the one facing him so he pressed his semi hard bulge up against my ass with my hands and face now pressed on the wooden door.

“Where do you think you are going princess? We’re not done talking just yet” He whispers in my ear, making my whole body shiver.

“As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me” His lips were glued to my ear “I almost, I said almost, agree with everything that she said..except for one thing”

“If you’re gonna say that-“

“Maybe I’ll have to buy you a ball gag, since you don’t seem to ever know when to shut up...or maybe I should choke you instead,what do you say?”

I gulped loudly

“Or even better, I should fuck your mouth..bury my cock so deep on your throat that you will have no other option but drool all over yourself” He pressed his bulge harder against my ass “, that will make you shut up! I can already imagine how gorgeous you will look with my cock shoved down your throat” He moaned “Would you like that princess? Would you like for me to show you where’s your place? Where you really belong?” He grinds his erection on my ass and the feeling makes me moan softly

“Drew...” I pleaded

“The only thing I don’t agree with Carmella” He continues his previous statement ignoring my plea “Is that I’m too much of a man for you. To be honest I think you’re the only woman in this company who can actually handle me! The only one who will love and beg to be fucked faster and rougher..” His hands let go of my wrists and roam down to cup my breasts roughly, pulling me even closer to his body

“The only one who is the perfect fit for me...who will let me use every single hole as I please” He bites my ear making me gasp for more air.

“Won’t you Y/N? Do you want me to use you like the good little whore that you are?”

My head was buzzing with excitement, I could feel the now very wet pool of desire in between my legs. To think that all of my darkest fantasies with this man were about to come true made me moan a faint ‘Yes’ to him

He grunts at my positive response while one of his big hands unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans so his hand could sink down the fabric to find my very wet core.

“Hmmm I’ve been waiting 5 years for this lass...Fuck, you already feel amazing on my hand I can’t wait to feel this pretty little pussy around my cock” He growls

“Fuck Drew, please” I whisper

“It’s Sir to you, my good little pet” He smirked “Now tell me, do you think I should fuck you right here, right now so that everyone in this company can hear me make you my fuck toy or should we head back to the hotel? What do you say pet?” He asks as his fingers firmly circles my clit making my legs shake

“W- Whatever pleases you Sir” I stuttered

“I see you’re a quick learner huh?” He chuckles amused “I say, let’s show this roster who is the only woman who can properly handle me” He says as he removed his fingers from my core and licked them clean while staring at me. I softly moan to that scene and he smiles deviously before whispering

“Strip now pet and show what a beautiful fuck toy you are for Sir”

To be continued...

Please let me know if you would like to see a part 2 🥺?

[sidespromptblog]

Between the Mask: Part 2

One, Three, and End

Warning: Plenty of tears from all parties, angst, Janus has a momentary panic episode, and Logan has a mental break down. 

Summary: Roman confronts Janus about how exactly Roman should act around him, after being told by the others that being both nice and mean to him is wrong. Only to discover that after everything he’s been through, Janus isn’t the person that he portrays in front of everyone else. 

Word Count: 4303

AO3 LINK

A strange kind of vigor filled Roman’s chest as he moved towards Logan’s room, a mixture of anxiety and adrenaline danced around his heart the closer that he got. A part of him was nervous about possibly bumping into Patton or Virgil, and having to answer the inevitable questions that would eventually arise when they put two and two together about where exactly he was going and where he was coming from. With Janus’ face still fresh in his mind, Roman felt a sense of protective unease at the thought of Patton and Virgil forcing their way into the safety of his room. Because, the one thing that he certainly did not want to answer was that question and the secrets that it entailed, especially because, despite how Janus may have started to become accepted he wasn’t entirely sure if he was ready for everyone to know about the real Janus just yet.

Especially not without his consent.

And Roman would damned before he broke the fragile trust he had just now built between him and Janus, especially after everything he had initially done wrong between the two of them.

He would guard Janus’ secret like a lion.

“Logan?” Roman whispered as he stood before the simplistic blue door that lacked any distinguishing characteristics, “Logan, I… I know that you’re there.” He winced at his casual tone, given everything the last thing he should be is casual with Logan.

He couldn’t help but to cringe at the vivid memory of himself so carelessly pressing the ignorance button, when Logan had only wanted to do his best and educate Thomas, Patton, and him.

He’d been rather rude, even if he had only meant it jokingly.

A deep sigh rumbled his chest as he forced himself to take a step back from it all, moaning and whining would get him nowhere. Logan had always responded to clear and decisive wording, not emotional blithering and most certainly not sing-songy language.

He needed to speak Logan’s language rather than trying to get across with his own. “Logan, if you’re even listening to me… I want you to know that I.. I see you.” Roman softly began, so much for no emotional language. “I see how much you’ve had to sacrifice for the sake of my and Thomas’ dreams to be a reality. I see how much you’ve had to change while the rest of us gets to stay the same. And…” Here he took a deep breath, pushing down the pride that had always gotten in the way of these apologies. “I’m sorry that I didn’t see it sooner, and.. and I’m sorry for how much I’ve made you sacrifice and just how much you’ve suffered because of it. I’m sorry for hurting you, in every way that I ever have.”  

Roman hadn’t even noticed it when he had started to spew out his apologies, but the moment they started the sight in front of him clouded over with tears that he refused to let fall. The knowledge that he’d been not only a bad friend, but also a bad protector, hit him like a punch to the chest. He had never wanted to hurt anyone, but in the end it always felt like no matter what he tried to do, he had always done the opposite. It was like that with Virgil, when he had tried to protect Thomas from the bad thoughts. It had happened with Patton, when he had constantly tried to keep him happy. It had happened with Janus, and now… now it was happening with Logan all over again.

“I’m sorry too…” Came a soft but equally hoarse voice from the other side of the door, “I’m not a very good logic… no matter how hard I try to be. If I was good, then maybe-”

“No!”

Roman’s hands slapped desperately against the door before he even had a chance to think about it, letting silence reign after his outburst. Shaking his head roughly to the point that his usually pristinely styled hard flopped onto his forehead in a mess of curls, Roman pressed the palms of his hands even harder against the door. The last thing that he wanted was for Logan to blame himself for any of this, it wasn’t anybody's fault for how things turned out.

It just happened, that’s why it was called an accident.

“Logan,” He sternly whispered, forcing himself to keep his voice down. “You don’t have to change, you don’t. Not for Thomas, not for the others, and most certainly not for me. Do you understand?” He felt like he was getting dangerously close to both crying, and digging his nails into the door in an effort to get through to Logan. “You don’t have to change for us, you never will. You can say that you don’t feel emotions, but I know you Logan. I’ve seen you smile, I’ve seen you address Thomas and the others as a class, and I’ve seen you happy Logan. Happy.” Roman’s head solidly thumped against the door. “You can still be happy… if you come with me.”

A long stretch of silence drifted between the two of them, before finally…

The blue door that Roman had been unleashing all of his feelings out onto, slowly eased open, almost making the creative side lose his footing before he swiftly regained it.

There stood Logan, huddled into himself wearing his unicorn onesie that Roman hadn’t seen since the day Logan had accidentally worn it during a video with Patton. The socks he was wearing clashed visibly with the pale blue of the onesie, with a garish orange that Roman didn’t dare to comment on. His tie was gone, and his glasses were neatly folded and tucked away into the collar of the onesie letting Roman see the logical side without his glasses for the first time.

He looked tired.

Especially with his eyes rimmed with red, evidence that Roman wasn’t the only one who had been close to crying. The alternative though… hurt Roman’s heart to much to even think about. The idea that all this time, while Roman had been wallowing in self angst, Logan had been crying with not a single soul to comfort him or tell him that it would be okay.

It hurt.

It hurt a lot.

Logan’s eyes darted away, the vulnerability of the prolonged eye contact already too much for him. “Why do you want me to come with you?” He finally muttered, his fingers twitching and fiddling where his tie would usually be. “That’s usually the opposite of what you want from me.”

That was true too, in the past Roman had been almost obsessed with making Logan go away so that he could continue with his fanciful daydreams about just what Thomas could accomplish. He had never even considered how it might make Logan feel to be on the receiving end of all of that.

Roman’s arms itched to drag Logan into a hug, a hug that would wipe away every careless action he had ever done in his life. “Someone wants to see you.” He instead said, moving his hand to rest on Logan’s back, small steps after all… small steps. “He knows exactly how you feel… he’s had to change a lot of himself just to be listened to. And I think….   I think that we could all use the company if I’m being honest.”

Logan almost unconsciously leaned into the warmth of Roman’s hand. It had been more than a week since the last video, and at least a week since he had allowed himself to be around the others. Which meant none of the Patton’s hugs, none of Virgil’s awkward leans that happened to brush against him sometimes, and… no touch, in general.

“Why?”

The question left Logan’s mouth well before he was ready, but even so, despite the question he found himself walking with Roman back to wherever he had come from. He wanted to go, deep down he knew that he wanted to go. He wanted.. he wanted to finally be understood, he wanted…

To be cared about, without being laughed at and made fun of.

Roman’s smile was almost too easy and too knowing. “Because you’re my friend, and I care about you.”

That was good enough for Logan… for now.  

"What are you doing?" Logan asked as he stopped dead in his tracks almost immediately upon entering Janus' room, seeing the dishonest side surrounded by a mound of peach colored yarn. But not before turning to Roman a look of utter befuddlement and uncertainty on his face, emphasizing his question that had still gone unanswered. "What is he doing? What's going on?"

Roman had to fight to keep down the snicker that so badly wanted to burst out of him at the sight of Logan’s confusion, it was such a rare sight for the logical side to be confused by anything. So try as he may, he quickly turned his laugh into a polite cough before looking over to Janus with obviously raised eyebrows. He hadn’t thought it possible, but he looked even more comfy and cozy than when he had first seen him. The reading glasses had been pushed further up his nose, giving him a more dignified look that was utterly swept away by the strings of yarn he had all around his fingers and looped loosely around his neck.

Two needles sat firmly in his hands, waiting to be used.

“I am attempting to learn how to knit,” Janus began with a begrudgingly embarrassed look at the mess around him, “It’s a lot harder to get down than crocheting is, especially with the two needles instead of one. I might need to get a few books, or look up a few videos to learn some more about the different styles.”

The eagerness in Janus’ voice was practically palpable by now, to the point where Logan squirmed where he was standing. The urge to offload several papers worth of information building inside of him like a geyser.

The only thing stopping him was…

This wasn’t Janus.

It couldn’t be Janus.

Janus was a sly worded, silver tongued snake. Who delighted in getting his way, and would go to great lengths just to get it. So this had to some kind of trick, like when he had taken over Patton’s form just to get Thomas to consider lying to Joan. This was just a ploy to get both Roman and him to his side, and against the others just like he had done with Roman during the trial that he had been… neglected from joining. He was just showing them this to get them to trust him, there was nothing else about it. Just…

Just trickery.

The excitement on Janus’ face faltered. “You.. you didn’t tell him?” He uttered softly, his eyes quickly darting from Logan’s face to Roman’s. A look of what could only be considered fear darted over his eyes, although fear over what Logan didn’t know. “You brought him here and you didn’t even tell him what he was going to be walking into?!”

Janus’ heart thudded heavily in his chest, as a feeling being far too exposed washed over him in waves.

Logan had seen him relaxed.

Logan had seen him as he usually was.

Logan had seen him without the walls that he’d meticulously built up for years.

Logan had seen him… Logan had seen him.

What if he told the others? What if he told Thomas? Logan wasn’t exactly known for telling lies, if anything blunt honesty was usually the way that the logical side went about his business. He could tell the others, and it would be no skin off of his nose. He would tell them.

He would tell them if he got the chance to, he definitely would.

His fingers hooked into the blankets surrounding him, gathering them around his shoulders as if they were an invisibility cloak that would shield him from the others’ gaze. Scrunching it around his shoulders and over his head, Janus felt the fire in the fireplace sputtering out as the terror continued to thrum in his veins. They wouldn’t listen to him anymore, they’d laugh at him, and Thomas would go right back to the habits that he’d tried so hard to avoid before.

Everything would be useless.

Janus.. Janus would be useless.

“Janus? Janus?” Janus’ mind snapped back to the present as he felt Roman’s gentle hands rocking him where he sat. “I’m sorry for not telling him beforehand, I figured that it would be easier if I were to bring him here and we could both explain everything to him.” Roman’s heart had frozen at the sight of utter terror that had crossed Janus’ face, well before the dishonest side had tucked himself away like a terrified squirrel under his little burrow. “I’m sorry for not making that clear before, do you.. do you want us to leave?”

Roman hoped not, he desperately and dearly hoped not.

But seeing Janus’ careful ragged breaths moving the blankets, he had no idea of what the final verdict would be this time. He wasn’t the judge, and Janus’ face was hidden so he had no idea of just what he’d say. He didn’t want to have to go, he didn’t want to leave Janus after everything he’d figured out about him. After… after the future that he’d promised to try and make for him and Logan.

“Roman,” Logan’s voice softened to almost a whisper as the logical side laid his hand on the creative side’s arm. “Give him a little space, it is likely that he’s just having a panic episode. Crowding him wouldn’t be the best option for him right now. Why don’t we sit and give him some breathing room?”

Leading Roman away from the other side, Logan guided him to a comfortable looking sofa that had been pushed against the wall. Once he’d had Roman seated, Logan settled in next to him. Casting his gaze from the fireplace that was steadily retaining its light and warmth, to the bookshelves that held endless amounts of knowledge in them. It was a very nice looking place, a sort of mix between what would have been Roman’s and his room had they decided to collaborate and make one for the both of them. It was very quaint and homey, if Logan had to use words those would be the exact ones he’d use to describe it.

Warm was another one.

“You don’t have to leave,” Janus finally uttered from his place hidden under the blankets, “I was just… shocked that Roman hadn’t told you, and.. and scared that…” Movement came from his giant pile, and two mismatched eyes looked back at Logan with a fair amount of uncertainty. “I was scared that you’d tell the others, and once they’d know, they’d never take my act in front of Thomas seriously, and they’d just… laugh anytime I needed him to take care of himself. I didn’t know how you’d react and well… I still want to be taken seriously, even if I happen to like being comfortable and not sneaky or sly.Do you.. do you understand?” Janus finally asked, tugging the edge of the covers down just a little bit more, and letting his hair poke out just a little.

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in Logan’s voice, not a single octave or syllable even hinted that he didn’t understand exactly what Janus was feeling.

He knew.

He knew all too well.

A deep sigh tinged with regret fell from Logan’s lips as he finally stood up, making his way over to Janus’ side before plopping down in front of him. “I know exactly what you mean.” He muttered, distaste coloring his voice. “But…” He added just as quickly. “I don’t understand why Roman wanted me here, I understand if he wanted to share a secret. I’ll gladly keep it, Thomas and the others won’t hear a single thing from me. But... that doesn’t appear to be the case. So what exactly is going on?”

A glance was shared between Janus and Roman, one as quick as a fish in a stream, but one that Logan caught onto nonetheless.

Janus’ fingers fiddled with the ends of his knitting needles, while Roman tapped his feet together focusing on the sensation of the carpet fibers between his toes.

“Logan…” Roman began softly, “When was the last time you smiled?”

And just like that, it felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over Logan’s head. A seven worded question, that was all it had taken to send Logan’s mind to a screeching halt well before it had even started. His nails bit into the palms of his hands, and his lungs burned from the prolonged breath that he had forgotten to take as soon as Roman had prompted the question. Whatever he had been expecting from the both of them, this.. this was not it. The muscles in his legs itched to move, to take him far away from this feelingsy conversation and questions involved in it.

“I’m leaving.” Logan croaked after a minute of pure silence.

As soon as his legs moved to make him stand he almost wobbled, but weak or not his legs could at least carry him to the door.

But apparently not fast enough, as like a snake in the grass, Janus’ hand darted out wrapping around Logan’s wrist and preventing him from taking even a single step away from the other side.

The grip wasn’t strong, and if Logan’s had really and truly tried he could have broken away from it. “Logan, please.” Janus softly intoned, attempting to keep his gaze firmly on Logan, and not on Roman coming up behind the logical side to stop him from making a break for it. “When was the last time you felt happy enough to smile? Please Logan...”

Wordlessly Logan shook his head at the request, as he pathetically attempted to tug his hand out of Janus’ grip. Even with that though, he couldn’t make himself muster the force to break it. He knew what the answer was, but he also knew that he didn’t want to answer it because that would just be one more way that he had failed to keep emotions away from his logical fallacy. It would just be one more way that he had failed at his one and only job, just another tally. But even so…

Logan’s bottom lip trembled for a second, with a truth that burdened his body and mind. “I don’t know.” The whisper came out cracked and broken, just another way to make the side that it had come from.

And with that one little utterance, his knees finally caved sending him back onto the spot he had just risen from.

“I don’t know.” He repeated again, now feeling the frustrated tears prickling at his eyes like pollen in the spring. “Why can’t I remember?!” He angrily and yet wetly huffed, as he tried with all his might to scrape away the tears from his face before they could ever begin. “I must have! I know that I must have recently! But.. but I just can’t remember!” Logan’s entire body shuddered with the force of the sob that rolled through him a hurricane decimating the coast. His hands clasped at his hair, as his arms shielded his face from the only two sides that had ever seen him cry.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried either, and try as he may… right now he couldn’t seem to stop.

He didn’t want to stop.

Here there were no stupid songs forcing him to sing out whatever emotions he was having.

Here there were no Patton’s to make puns about his feelings.

Here he didn’t have to uphold the needlessly rough standards he had for himself in front of Thomas.

Here he didn’t just have to be logic.

Here… with Roman and Janus on both sides of him… he was safe.

So he cried, he cried until he felt like he couldn’t cry anymore. Until every emotion he’d ever felt came spilling out of him all at once, for what must have been hours upon hours. Until his head was resting on Janus’ knee while the other side gingerly ran his fingers through his hair, soothing the dry sobs right out of him. Until he felt Roman’s blisteringly warm hands resting firmly on his back, promising not to go anywhere. For the first time he felt safe enough to let out these emotions, as scary and unpredictable as they may be.

The hand on his back moved a little. “Logan,” Came Roman’s voice close to his back, “I don’t want any of us to have to hide like this again. Janus has been hiding and masking himself for years, so have you, and… I don’t want to do it. I never want to have to do it to feel like I have to survive. That’s why I brought you here, that why Janus let me show you his room. If.. if we want things to start changing for the better… we have to take the first step.”

Sniffling, Logan raised his head a little, looking back at Roman’s surprisingly serious face. He supposed that in a way that Roman was right, he hadn’t even been sure for how long he was going to keep his unfeeling and emotionless facade up or if it would just eventually become a part of himself if he let it go on for long enough. What would have happened if Roman had never gotten him out of his bedroom? If he’d just let Logan be there, unhappy and locked away from everyone who intentionally and unintentionally hurt him.

Nothing would change.

Just one cycle after another, with all of them suffering in silence unable to read the other.

“We’re not mind readers.” Logan mumbled, more to himself than anything. “We shouldn’t expect the other to be either…”

“What?” Janus asked, unable to hear Logan through the folds of fabric, and judging from the look on Roman’s face he certainly hadn’t heard him any better either.

A light dusting of pink made its way over the tops of Logan’s ears.

Giving a little cough though he repeated himself. “I said…” Logan scratched the back of his neck. “None of us are mind readers, and we shouldn’t expect the others to be if we’re not. Hiding and scurrying away when it comes to our true feelings, and acting passive aggressive helps nothing if it just keeps building and building when nobody notices it.” Fiddling with the fabric Logan went on, feeling as if he was digging his own grave at this point. “If.. if someone brings something up in front of the others… we need to have each others’ back, especially if it's something… precious to us.”

Almost immediately Logan felt a pair of hands come up behind him ruffling up his hair, making it stick straight up in the air as Roman grinned at him. Before he even knew it Roman had hooked his arms from behind Logan, giving him the biggest squeeze of a hug that he’d ever felt. And the pride bursting within Janus’ eyes spoke leagues, even if there was nothing else about Janus’ body language that said so.

“If you tell me something that you want to be seriously taken, I won’t laugh at you. And I’ll make sure that the others won’t either.” Roman promised, but not before crossing a giant X over his heart and pretending to jab out his eye. “Janus, if you ever want to show up as you are, and not who they expect… I will stand behind them one hundred percent, and I will stand against them if they have anything bad to say about it at all.” He promised, warmth flooding his chest as he looked down at his two best friends. “I want the both of you to be comfortable and safe. I want you to be able to smile without worry.”

Logan hadn’t thought it possible for his week to end up like this, since the most recent interaction with Janus he’d felt shoved to the side and forgotten. To the point where he was ready to just decide in his room and not make any kinds of comments unless called on by another. But having Roman come to him, and having Roman make his promises…

It felt a lot like hope.

“I hope you know that I will do the same for you,” Logan uttered softness filling his voice, “If they say anything about your ideas that you’re excited for, or have anything to say about how you treat either of us… I have your back, I’ll stand by you.” And turning his gaze to Janus, the one side that he’d thought he’s have to fight against his falsehoods forever. He saw him for who he really was, and who he wanted to be. “I promise you… I will not ever let them laugh at you, I will take you seriously even if they try not to.” A tiny smile quirked onto Logan’s lips, the first one in a long while. “I’ll yell with my teacher's voice.”

“You two will always have a place here.” Janus uttered with a fair amount of reverence. “Through good and bad, if you need me I will be here for you. Should the others turn their backs on you. I won’t. That is a promise.”

Maybe it was just the warmth of Janus’ room, blazing even brighter, but…

They all felt a little warmer that night, ready to take on whatever demons laid in wait for them the next morning.

[jisungsmochi]

tutor girl - ljn

tutor girl - lee jeno fic 

based off one tree hill hehe (been binging it lately) 

word count: 8.6k (might be my longest one yet) 

summary: lee jeno was an asshole. an awfully charming asshole. he wanted nothing more than to make your best friend’s life a living hell. he had his plan ready to go, but something, or rather someone, got in the way. will tutor girl change him for the better or will he stick to his ways? 

mainly fluff but we got a lil bit of angst in there oops 

(for the sake of this au , imagine jeno and mark are the same age)

//

“you should try out for the basketball team this year. i think you should show off your abilities on the real court” you walk alongside your best friend. mark lee. you clearly remember the day you met him. you were both around nine years old, placed in the same fourth grade class. you wanted to befriend him after finding out he only lived with his mother. coming from a big family, you were always used to having others around you. so you thought you’d do the same for him.

“really? i don’t know...the guys on the team are all jerks. besides i’m fine playing by the river court, there’s no pressure” mark shrugs at you, contemplating your suggestion.

“it’s a well known fact that they’re all jerks, but they’re jerks who can get scholarships for college, isn’t that what you want?” you continued to push. you knew the true reason he was hesitant on joining the team. but you didn’t want him to hold himself back in life, any good friend would do the same.

“yeah of course. i’ll think about it, y/n. but no guarantees” he sighs, walking into his mother’s cafe. you made your way to greet his mother,

“ah y/n, it’s great that you’re here, i’m gonna need you for another shift” she smiles softly, handing you your apron.

“yes ma’am” you smile back, watching as mark sat at the counter. this was how most of your days went. hanging out with mark most of the day, then coming to work at the cafe if you weren’t tutoring a student in need as part of the tutoring program at your school. you enjoyed helping your peers and their improved marks and positive attitude gave you a sense of accomplishment.

you were having dinner with mark and his mother, soojin, like you did most nights, when she suddenly brought up basketball tryouts,

“thinking of joining, mark?” soojin asked curiously.

“i don’t know if i want to, you know he’s gonna be on the team” mark anxiously admits.

see, the thing was, mark had a half brother by the name of lee jeno. he was notorious for being a grade A asshat. following suit of his and mark’s father, lee juyoung. juyoung and soojin were high school sweethearts, winning prom king and queen in their senior year. the day before graduation, soojin told juyoung she had fallen pregnant with mark. but he couldn’t handle being a father, having just earned a prestigious basketball scholarship for some fancy college. they quickly ended their relationship after graduating, wishing to never see or hear from one another again. soojin raised mark on her own whilst juyoung went to college, where he met jeno’s mother, minji. juyoung recklessly got minji pregnant with jeno, roughly six months after mark was conceived. but he stuck with minji, as she was from an affluent background and saw a more promising and stable future with her. jeno was brought up by his father to despise mark. they first met each other at a basketball summer camp when they were ten years old, but rarely saw eachother until high school. mark despised jeno equally, infuriated that he was favoured by their father. jeno had everything. he was the basketball team’s shooting guard, always getting the glory of scoring points. he was also dating one of the most popular girls in school, kang mina. and it didn’t help that he was pleasing to the eye, aside from his jackass tendencies. jeno had it all, mark often caught himself feeling jealous of the life jeno got to live. he hated his father for leaving his mother to raise him alone. it was needless to say, the lee brothers did not get along.

“who cares if jeno’s on the team? remember that you’re doing this for you, not for him or anyone else” you encourage, knowing how he truly felt towards jeno.

“y/n’s right. you are a great player, anyone can see it. just give it a try, you’ll never know what can come from it” his mother gave him a gently squeeze to his shoulder. mark avoided looking at the both of you, softly sighing,

“alright alright, i’ll tryout! what’s the worst that could happen?” he chuckled lightly.

//

as expected, mark surpassed everyone who tried out and was able to fill the last spot in the school’s varsity basketball team. unfortunately, he was not greeted with open arms, the other boys taunting that he wasn’t as good as them. especially jeno, absolutely disgusted by the idea of him and mark having to interact.

you sat with mark in his room as he ranted about his interactions with the team,

“they all said to watch my back, that they had something planned for me. is that not concerning?” he paced in his room, your heart sunk at his words. who would ever want to hurt such a kind soul like mark?

“you should tell coach, i’m sure he’ll try and straighten them out” you suggest, unsure if it even helped.

“that’s the thing, if i tell on them, they’ll retaliate even harder. god i knew i shouldn’t have joined” he groaned,

“don’t say that, you deserve to be on the team whether they like it or not” you furrow your eyebrows in concern. you move over to sit with mark on his bed, pulling his head to your shoulder.

“jeno’s the worst of them all. he always takes low blows at me about our dad, saying that he loves him more than me. that he doesn’t care about my mother. he’s ruthless” mark mumbled, your heart aching for him. you knew jeno was an ass, but you didn’t know he would outright say such hurtful things.

“he’s just jealous because you’re a threat to him. and besides, it doesn’t help that you’re totally crushing on his girlfriend, don’t think i haven’t noticed” you tease at the end, fully aware of mark lee’s massive crush on kang mina.

“w-what?! i do not have a crush on mina!” he exclaims causing you to chuckle.

“sure you don’t buddy, don’t act like you’re not happy to join the team. you get to watch her cheer for you from the sidelines” you poke his cheeks, trying to get him to lighten up. you hated seeing him so nervous and anxious all the time. you hoped things would get better from then on, but you were wrong. lee jeno was the epitome of an asshole.

jeno wanted mark off the team and he didn’t care how he did it or who he hurt in the process. not only did he take harsh jabs at mark about his mother, but he went as far as to soaking his gym clothes in water, leaving him with no clothes for practice. he refused to hand mark the ball during practice, often getting his friends to barge into mark if he tried to get the ball off him. somehow it got around that mina had been getting closer to mark as they had been paired up for an assignment, which only fuelled more anger in jeno. he needed to be more smart if he wanted mark to quit the team.

jeno was standing with his friend, jaemin at their lockers, when they caught sight of mark talking to you.

“who’s the chick that’s always hanging with mark?” jeno curiously asks, scanning his eyes over you.

“her name’s y/n, she’s part of the tutor program” jaemin responded, looking over at jeno who had a mysterious look in his eyes.

“i might just have to sign up for some tutoring” he smirked to himself, making his way to his next class.

//

you were filing some applications for tutoring at the student centre when you heard someone knock at the door.

“hang on a minute!” you politely spoke, turning to see who it was. your face immediately fell as your eyes landed on the dark haired boy infront of you.

“may i help you?” you crossed your arms, already fed up with him.

“i hope so, you’re my tutor” jeno copies your gesture, looking down at you in amusement.

“uh no, don’t think so” you turned your back to him, continuing to file applications.

“you’re y/n, right? see it says right here” he approaches you, practically shoving the form in your face. you glanced at the section where the allocated tutor’s name should be written and there you were. you took the form from him, softly biting the inside of your cheek before looking back at him.

“look i’m sorry but i’m best friends with mark” you hand the form back to him.

“well then i’m sorry too” he snickers, causing you to roll your eyes.

“i can’t help you okay? i’ll find someone else t-“

“i don’t want anyone else. you’re the best student tutor in this program. i really need your help” jeno practically whined. part of you wanted to help him, but your loyalty to mark, alongside all the terrible things jeno has said and done, wasn’t going to change your mind.

“i’m sorry, again. i-i just can’t” you rush out of the room, feeling guilty. as much as you disliked jeno, you were never the one to turn away a student in need. all you knew is that mark could never know about this.

//

your english teacher was handing back grades for the latest assignment. your eyes couldn’t stop focusing on jeno, who was visibly distraught after receiving his grade. the guilty feeling in your stomach wasn’t going away. so what if you helped jeno? maybe you could get him to back off mark. plus it was your duty as a tutor to help students in need. and right now, jeno needed you.

he approached you again in the student centre later that day,

“hey just letting you know, i won’t be needing you anymore, i’ll be just fine” jeno sternly announced to you, gaining your attention. before you could say anything back, he held up his grade from english,

“i mean, F is for fine, right?” your eyes moved to the paper that had a large, red ‘F’ written on it. you gave him a solemn look, debating what you would say next, you didn’t know what came over you,

“okay! i’ll tutor you!” you blurted out, catching jeno by surprise as well. his lips slowly formed into a smirk, walking closer to you.

“but on one condition, mark never finds out, and you also leave him alone!” you let out a short sigh, hoping you weren’t making a bad decision.

“that’s actually two conditions” he retorts, leading you to roll your eyes, already regretting everything.

“but okay, i’ll tell the guys to chill a bit” you looked at him in shock, not expecting him to consider your conditions at all.

“then it’s settled, let’s meet at the dock by the pier tomorrow morning at 8 o’clock sharp” you walk past him,

“why can’t we do it at school?” he asked in confusion,

“because i don’t want anyone else seeing us, especially mark” you sternly respond, making sure he understood.

“aye aye captain” jeno tried to joke, but you had already left before he could finish.

maybe this was going to be harder than he thought.

//

you were sitting at a table on the dock, waiting for jeno to show up. but your expectations were low. you questioned if he was taking this whole tutoring thing seriously, but your thoughts were interrupted when he rushed to you.

“sorry i’m late, i was hungry” he pulled out a small box of pocky, offering some to you. you shook your head,

“no thanks” he nodded as he shoved one in his mouth. he had also picked up a kinder surprise egg,

“praying i get a cheat sheet for this exam” he hold his hands together, quickly making a wish. you cracked a small smile at his antics, hoping he didn’t take notice. he opened the little bag containing the plastic prizes. he pulled out a colourful beaded bracelet. it was clearly made for children, but jeno thought you’d like it,

“here, for you” he looped it onto your wrist, “don’t say i never gave you anything” he winked, causing you to cringe.

“let’s just get started, shall we?” you ignored his comments, finally beginning the very first tutoring session. it wasn’t as bad as you initially thought it’d be. to your surprise, jeno was fully attentive and had made genuine attempts to learn. but it was probably only due to the fact he needed good grades to play basketball, it didn’t suddenly turn him into an amazing person in your eyes.

//

“hey! y/n! it feels like i haven’t seen you in a while, how have you been?” mark caught up to you on your way home from school. you two would usually walk together but with his basketball practices and your tutoring sessions, you both slowly stopped.

“i’ve been good! just busy with tutoring” you shrug, happy to have your best friend by your side again.

“ah same with basketball. it’s so weird, jeno and his goons haven’t done anything remotely bad to me this entire week” mark pulled the strap of his backpack over his shoulder.

“isn’t that a good thing?” you softly smiled at yourself, remembering the deal you made with jeno.

“i mean yeah, but i can’t help but be suspicious. what if there’s some other huge thing they have planned?” mark started stressing, gliding his hand through his hair.

“maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt” you mutter, unsure why you were even defending jeno.

“since when were you on his side?” your best friend stopped in his tracks, not believing a word that just left your mouth. you pulled at the strings of your hoodie,

“i’m on your side of course! i’m just saying that maybe he’s not as evil as you think he is” you tried to pull yourself out of the hole you were currently digging.

“i don’t know, y/n. i guess we’ll have to wait and see” he paused for a moment, looking down at your wrist,

“nice bracelet” your eyes shifted to the lame beaded bracelet jeno gave you. why were you still wearing it?

//

for your next tutoring session, jeno had invited you to his house, claiming that the dock was too noisy and he couldn’t focus properly. you actually agreed with him for once, now standing outside his house. you rang the doorbell, hearing someone shuffling behind the door. jeno swung the door open, greeting you with his classic smile. he led you to the dining table, with all of his materials already set out.

“finally organised, i’m impressed” you compliment him, not noticing how his cheeks were heating up.

midway through the session, jeno became distracted. he has received a text on his phone. you weren’t sure who it was, but by the way he was reacting, he was clearly frustrated.

“hey, can you get off your phone? we still have more examples to go through” you were slowly getting annoyed by his inability to remain focused.

“sorry, just uh- it’s nothing” he mumbled, shoving his phone back in his pocket before turning to face you.

“alright, break time” you sigh, closing the book infront of you. jeno shot you a confused look,

“why?”

“because something’s on your mind, you need to clear it” you advise him, hoping he would open up to you.

“you’re right, it’s just, mina. we’ve been getting into so many fights lately, plus she’s been hanging out with mark a lot. i just don’t know where we’re at” jeno looks down at his hands that were placed in his lap. you weren’t sure what to say, you slightly felt sorry for jeno, something you’d never thought would happen.

“and my dad, he keeps pressuring me to do better in basketball. he makes everything a competition between himself and me. now with mark on the team, there’s a direct comparison which he just cannot avoid bringing up every single day” jeno continues to rant, slowly taking you back. you had no idea he was feeling like this. he always presented himself as this tough guy who had no care in the world about anything but basketball.

“i-i don’t know what to say” you honestly admit, avoiding eye contact with him.

“it’s alright, i didn’t expect you to anyway. i just keep this all inside” he sighed, relieved to be able to say these things out loud for once, without being judged.

“i think that, you should live your life the way you want. if mina makes you happy then show her that. if basketball is your passion, don’t give up on it just because of your dad or mark or anyone else. just do your best, that’s all anyone can ask for” you tried your best to give him advice, not sure if he would even take any from you. but jeno was surprised at how gentle and understanding you were. he had never had someone to properly vent to about his problems.

“y-you’re right. like absolutely spot on right. damn, i guess you’re more than just a tutor” he smiled softly,

“ah yes i am also a part time motivational speaker and hype woman” you fake cheered, making him burst out in a soft chuckle.

“thanks for this, y/n. i uh, really appreciate you listening” jeno’s eyes meet yours as you listen to his every word. you almost got lost in his eyes for a split second before you pulled yourself back to reality.

“no problem, what a friends for” you murmured, causing him to raise his eyebrows,

“oh so we’re friends now?” he shot you another smirk, clearly entertained by this entire situation.

“i mean yeah, i consider you a friend. but if you tell anyone, i will deny it” you pointed a finger a him playfully.

“wouldn’t expect anything less”

//

the following week, you were lining up for your physical education class, waiting for the basketball boys to finish up their short practice. you caught sight of mark and jeno, who seem to be in the middle of a very heated argument.

“coach wants you to be shooting guard now? you really wanna take my position, lee? then let me take y/n off your hands” jeno cockily exclaimed,

“leave her alone! you better not be messing with her or i swear i’ll hurt you a lot more than i already want to” mark gritted through his teeth.

“funny you say that, because she’s been tutoring me, and i must say, she’s a special one” jeno continues to aggravate mark. you knew he was saying these things to get a rise from the other boy. to say you were disgusted was an understatement. now, they were shoving eachother, to the point where mark was on top of jeno, ready to punch him. the coach had to pull both of them apart, along with some of the other players. it was a whole mess, mark stormed out of the gym, giving you a sharp side eye before walking right past you. your eyes caught jeno’s, he gave you a pitiful look. everything had just gone to shit.

that afternoon, you decided to go over mark’s house to check up on him. you were prepared for him to yell at you, probably still in disbelief that you were hanging out with jeno behind his back. you softly knocked on his bedroom door, you heard him grunt slightly before opening the door.

“hey” you quietly muttered, mark just raised his eyebrows before letting you enter. you sat by his study desk, unsure of how to bring up the situation.

“why’d you do it, y/n? why did you agree to tutor that jerk?!” mark broke the awkward tension, arms folded across his chest.

“i-i don’t know, mark. he needed help with his work, what was i supposed to do? turn him away?” you argue back, feeling defensive.

“yes! that’s exactly what you should have done. jeno has made my life a living hell, just for being on the team. now he’s got you wrapped around his silly little finger? i thought you were better than that” mark scoffed. you just froze. never in your seven years of friendship, had mark yelled at you like this.

“jeno is strictly just a tutoring student to me! he’s nothing more than that. and you’re the one to talk! you’re over here flirting and hanging out with jeno’s girlfriend. she’s taken, mark. your silly crush on her needs to stop” you were beyond frustrated at this point, harsh words spilled out of you like there was no end.

“he treats her like crap, y/n! she comes to me for comfort! what am i supposed to do?” mark ran his hands through his hair.

“you wait for them to breakup, mark! that’s what any logical person would do. you don’t pine after her while she’s in a relationship. you’re better than that” you whimper the last sentence, hot tears filled your eyes. mark almost broke down, seeing you so upset. but he was too mad and stubborn to comfort you.

“you really think jeno cares about you? he’s only hanging out with you to get to me!” mark continued to fuel your anger,

“mark lee, you are an asshole. who would have thought you and jeno would switch places?” you finally spat out, rushing out of his room, ready at cry your eyes out at home.

//

“y/n! wait up!” you heard the familiar deep voice behind you. you kept walking, wanting nothing more than to go home and ignore everyone and everything around you. but lee jeno was persistent. he caught up to you, moving to stand right infront of you.

“i don’t want to talk to you right now” you sternly let out, trying to walk away from him. jeno softly gripped your shoulders, pulling you along with him to a secluded spot behind the school gates.

“i know you don’t, but i want to explain myself” jeno started, he appeared to be quite distraught. you nodded along, ready to hear his explanation.

“coach promoted mark to shooting guard. i haven’t been on my best game lately, you know, with my dad always on my back. i was so mad that coach wanted to replace me. he knows that basketball is my only shot to get into college, because let’s face it, academics will not get me through” you frowned once he said that, which made him crack a slight smile,

“you’ve helped a lot. more than you know. but anyway, i got so mad at mark, i kind of went crazy. i know i shouldn’t have brought you up. that was a dick move and i’m sorry. i just wanted to hurt him. i’ve noticed that you two haven’t been talking. and i can’t help but feel like i was the reason for it. so i don’t expect you to forgive me right away. i just wanted you to hear my side” jeno finally finished, his shoulders resting. your eyes were wide, not expecting this entire speech from him.

“jeno, i appreciate that you wanted me to know your side. and i’m sorry about mark replacing you. he was going to find out about us one way or another. atleast it’s finally out” you shrugged before continuing, “mark and i haven’t been as close as we used to be. and it kind of hurts. i cried a lot after he yelled at me and i jus-” before you could finish, jeno pulled you into him. you immediately froze against him, arms avoiding wrapping around his torso. jeno didn’t know why he hugged you, something about your whimpering tone made him want to hold you.

“i-i’m sorry, you just looked like you needed it” he muttered, slowly pulling away from you.

“i-it’s okay” you mumble back to him, avoiding his eyes at all costs.

“i can leave now if you want?” jeno pulled a piece of hair away from your face, making you look up at him.

“a-actually, wanna go for a walk to the dock?” you offer, watching as his face slowly lit up,

“sure” he smiled softly at you, as you both began walking. you caught sight of mark and mina, who were staring right back at you and jeno. you weren’t sure what to do, jeno noticed how uncomfortable you felt. he too, was not too fond of the sight of mark and his now, ex girlfriend, judging the both of you.

“so are they a thing?” jeno suddenly brings up on your way to the dock.

“mark and mina? i thought you were dating” your confused tone made him smile,

“uh well we kind of broke up a few days ago. the day of the fight actually” jeno informed you. you stopped in your path, looking over at the taller boy.

“why didn’t you tell me? are you okay?” you slightly pout,

“firstly, you were ignoring me. and secondly, to my surprise, i am okay. we just weren’t right for eachother, it happens” jeno just shrugs, but you could tell there was more behind it.

“what else is bothering you? aside from your dad and basketball?” you decided to push, feeling he was holding something back.

“i just realised how poorly i treated mina. i never really put much effort into the relationship. seeing her with mark kind of struck a nerve” he explained as you both sat at the same table as your first tutoring session.

“well it’s okay to have regrets, jeno. it means you’re human” you assure him, placing your hand over his. jeno froze at your action, not used to you initiating physical touch with him. his eyes scanned to your wrist,

“hey, you’re still wearing the bracelet” he couldn’t help but feel giddy that you had kept such a useless gift.

“ah yeah, it’s kinda cute don’t you think?” you show off to him, trying to get him to laugh.

you’re cute.

jeno thought to himself. he didn’t want to admit that he had a slight interest in you. the plan wasn’t for him to fall for you. but jeno was well on his way. and he wanted to snap out of it, as soon as possible. because you deserved someone better than him.

//

as the days went on, mark slowly began to talk to you again. it would start with small conversations during your shifts at the cafe, but once you got to the point where you would ask to hang out, he always had something to do. all you wanted was your best friend back, but he seemed pretty occupied with mina’s company, you didn’t want to make things worse.

on top of this, jeno was struggling a lot with his english work. you tried your best to get him to understand but his mind wasn’t in the right place.

“i’m sorry if it feels like i’m wasting your time, y/n” jeno pouted at you,

“you’re not wasting my time, jeno. you’ll get there eventually. you just have to practice, like in basketball” you tried to develop a comparison between the two, in order to encourage jeno’s study habits.

“speaking of, are you coming to the game on friday?” jeno suddenly went off topic, not that you minded, you both needed a brain break.

“um i don’t know, i might have plans” you tried to come up with some lame excuse before he continued,

“oh come on, it’ll be a good game, we always beat this team” jeno was practically begging you at this point, you softly chuckled at his desperation,

“i’ll make you a deal, get over 80 for the english exam and i’ll go” you suggested as you pulled out your pinky. jeno hesitated for a moment, but opted to promising you anyway. your pinkies remained linked, both of you too embarrassed to pull away. as cheesy as it sounds, for just a moment, you felt everything else freeze. your focus was only on jeno, how adorable he looked with his ruffled hair, practically in his pajamas. you slowly brought yourself back to reality, a warm feeling now developing in your stomach. this isn’t good.

//

wednesday afternoon rolled by, as you were about to leave the school gates, you heard jeno call for you. he wasn’t being so discrete either, gaining the attention of others around you.

“y/n! wait up!” he was practically wheezing by the time he reached you.

“god, did you run a marathon or something?” you chuckle, helping him stable himself.

“i had to see you right after i got this damn mark, 84!!” his face lit up like you had never seen before. you could tell he was genuinely pleased with himself.

“that’s amazing, jeno! i knew you could do it” you jumped up and down in excitement for him. jeno smiled at you, pulling his arms out, signalling whether or not it was okay to hug you. you nodded ecstatically, launching yourself in his arms. jeno couldn’t believe how perfectly you fit in his arms. if only he could do this more often.

as you both pulled away, jeno still kept his hands hooked on your forearms.

“so you’ll come to the game?” he raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

“a deal is a deal!” you nod once again, watching as jeno’s eyes creased into a crescent moon shape.

“thanks again for everything, i’ll look out for you on friday!” he cheered as he released your forearms from his gentle grip, making his way back to his friends who watched the entire interaction. you couldn’t help but feel a sudden wave of heat rush to your face. goddammit lee jeno.

//

the basketball game was in full swing. you had gotten to the gym right before the game started. you looked over the court for jeno, your eyes meeting his. he gave you a slight smile, followed by a nod. you waved lightly at him, feeling slightly embarrassed that the only reason you came was to see him. mark witnessed the entire interaction, his instincts telling him that something more was going on between you two. the last thing he wanted was to see you hurt, especially if it were at the hands of jeno. mark approached jeno before the game started, he pulled out his hand to shake,

“hey, i know it’s been rough between us but let’s do our best for this game” mark pushed aside his pride. jeno cluelessly stared at mark’s hand, hesitantly placing his hand against his.

“yeah, agreed” jeno awkwardly muttered, quickly pulling away from mark, joining the rest of the team for the pregame huddle.

there was five seconds on the clock, jeno was double teamed. there was no way he could make the shot, he knew his dad was watching, probably yelling at him to take the shot anyway. but jeno couldn’t risk it, he looked to his right, seeing an open mark lee with his hands ready to handle the ball. jeno spun on his heel, swiftly making a clean pass to mark. everyone stood from their seats, all eyes on mark lee. it took a few seconds for the opposing team to realise what had happened, giving mark the perfect shot. just as the buzzer signalled the end of the game, mark lee had scored the winning basket. all the boys on the team ran to the slightly frazzled boy, pulling him in for a group hug. jeno smiled at the sight, looking over to find you, but he was met with the disappointing glares of his father instead. jeno’s smile faded, an uneasy feeling making its way through his body. you noticed that he seemed off, quickly rushing to be by his side.

“jeno! are you okay?” you tried to gain his attention amongst the loud cheers and screams of everyone. jeno turned to face you, placing his hands on the sides of your arms.

“y-yeah, i’m okay now” he smiled lightly, sweat dripping from his forehead. you pulled the sleeve of your sweater down slightly, wiping some of the sweat from his face.

“gosh you look gross” you fake gagged as he rolled his eyes.

“so you’re not going to congratulate me on winning?” he pouted, which had a tug on your heartstrings.

“andddd, congrats on winning!” you pulled him in for a hug, it was jeno’s turn to freeze at your embrace this time. he didn’t expect you to openly hug him infront of everyone but who was he to object?

“hey y/n, i’m going to have a celebratory party at my dad’s beach house tonight, wanna come? i’ll even invite mark” he offered as you both pulled away, his hands still on your sides.

“parties aren’t really my thing, you know? i’m not really dressed for the occasion anyway” you shrugged, feeling guilty for trying to ditch.

“oh come on, please? even if it’s for a little bit, i can take you home” jeno continues to budge, shooting you a doe eyed look. you shook your head at his efforts to persuade you.

“alright, alright! i think i’ll try and talk to mark first, see you soon” you give him one last smile before making your way to congratulate mark. despite the tension in your friendship, you knew that mark was too occupied, running on the high of winning, to ignore you. his eyes met yours, already expecting you to approach him.

“congrats mark, you did really well” you awkwardly greeted as he finally faced you.

“thanks y/n, i’m glad you came. even if it wasn’t for me” mark teased in a playful tone,

“w-what’s that supposed to mean?” you stutter, feeling heat rise to your face.

“i mean, you came to see jeno. i saw you two” mark explained, but before you could butt in, he continued,

“it’s fine really, it was wrong of me to make you think you needed my permission or something. jeno’s not so bad, i guess. but i still want you to be careful with him, okay?” there was the mark you knew and loved. the boy who would always give it to you straight, even if it hurt, but you knew in your heart that everything was okay. you nodded along, pulling your arms out, practically begging to hug him again. mark slightly chuckled, pulling you into him.

“i missed you, mark” you muttered into his shoulder and his hold on your tightened.

“i missed you too, loser” he whispered. as you pulled away from him, mark started walking with you to his car where you would both be on your way to lee jeno’s after game party.

//

jeno’s dad’s beach house exceeded all of your expectations. it was right by the shore, a bunch of teenagers already scattered on the sand. you and mark entered the house, greeted by mina and her best friend, jarim. you noticed how awkward mark and mina were with eachother, part of you wanting to laugh but you were able to keep it inside. you also noticed jarim practically glaring you down, maybe it was your outfit? your thoughts were interrupted when jeno came rushing to the group.

“glad you two could make it” he smiled at both you and mark, mainly keeping his focus on you.

“this place is huge” mark blurted out in awe, causing jeno to chuckle lightly. he was dressed in a plain black hoodie and some jogger pants. despite dressing down for his own party, how does he still look so damn good?

“thanks man, feel free to walk around, just don’t break anything” jeno jokingly winked, looking down at you,

“want me to show you around?” it was clear he was directing the question at you. you looked back at mark who gave you a look, telling you to go with jeno. you turned back to the dark haired boy, his eyes never left yours.

“sure” you nodded, walking alongside him, hearing soft whispers from jarim and mina.

jeno pulled you with him to an empty room. your eyes widened as he shut the door, unsure of why he only pulled you aside from the others.

“you can sit on the bed if you want” he insisted as he shuffled around the room. you followed along, still curious as to why you were here.

“is everything okay? why did you pull me away?” you questioned,

“i just wanted to thank you. for everything. for the tutoring, the mina drama and the stuff with my dad. i don’t really talk to anyone about my problems like how i do with you, and i really just want to say thanks, privately” this was the first time you saw jeno being timid. he stuck to the back of the door, eyes glued to the floor. you softly smiled at his words, making your way to meet him. you pulled his chin up, so he could look at you properly.

“you’re welcome, jeno. i’m really glad to hear that i’ve been able to help. it really does mean a lot to me” the words glided through your mouth with ease. lee jeno wasn’t as intimidating as you initially thought. he was flawed, like everyone else in the world. all he needed was someone to show him that it was okay to not be okay.

jeno placed the palm of his right hand to meet your cheek, gently brushing his thumb over it. the gesture made your heart flutter. how was he so good at this?

“y-you’re really pretty, you know?” jeno mumbled, pulling strands of your hair behind your ear. you blushed at his words, not believing them yourself.

“n-no, i’m not” you shook your head, as he halted his actions.

“why do you say that?” he furrowed his eyebrows at you, genuinely in disbelief at your words.

“i guess, i don’t really feel pretty? i don’t know. i just haven’t really been called pretty before, especially by a guy like yo-“ you cut yourself off, not wanting to finish your sentence. before jeno could say anything, there was a loud knock at the door.

“anyone in there?” the person yelled, continuing to knock. jeno turned to open the door, in which jarim, mark, mina and jaemin were all standing.

“oh were we interrupting something?” jarim smirked, clearly tipsy from the alcohol she consumed earlier that night. mina gave you a concerned look, aware of how her friend acts when she’s drunk.

“uh kinda” jeno harshly responded, mark’s eyes immediately shooting to you,

“is that true?” he questioned. you felt everyone’s eyes on you. you froze up, words unable to leave your mouth.

“aw cat’s got her tongue. were you two making out?” jarim continued to budge you both, no one responded.

“ah i see, you were about to have sex!” she slurred her words, mina having to hold her back from entering the room.

“shut up, jarim” jeno spat, causing the drunk girl to shove him further into the room. the small group all entered, jaemin closing the door behind him.

“jarim, lets get you home, okay?” mina struggles to pick up her friend.

“no no, i wanna stay. if you wanna be nasty, jeno. how about we discuss the elephant in the room? i mean, you don’t actually like tutor girl here, do you? wasn’t it all a ploy to get back at our little markie boy here” jarim exposed, chuckling to herself.

“what’s she talking about?” you finally spoke up, fists balled and tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“no, it’s not like that, god why are you such a bitch, jarim?” jeno ran his hands through his hair, taking a step towards you. you took a step back in response, making your way to mark.

“i want to go home” you mumble to him, mark immediately taking you into his arms. he bid mina a farewell, as she apologised over and over for her friend’s behaviour. jeno tried to call after you both but jaemin held him back,

“dude, you messed up”

“i fucking know that, i have to go apologise” jeno gritted through his teeth,

“woah, you like her. you like tutor girl” jaemin was astonished, the thought of you and jeno as a couple, never crossing his mind.

“yeah, i really do. but now she’ll never want to see me again” jeno let out a defeated sigh, leaning against the door frame.

so much for a celebratory occasion.

//

you heard a knock at your bedroom door, interrupting your study session. you opened the door, eyes furrowed at the person standing infront of you.

“i’m probably the last person you expected to see” jarim sighed, clearly unsure of what else to say to you. you were ready to slam the door in her face, but you wanted to hear what excuse she had for coming to your house.

“what are you doing here?” you fold your arms, leaning on your door frame. jarim hesitates, handing you a piece of paper before speaking,

“i feel really awful about the way i acted at the party. i was drunk, not that it excuses what i did and said. but i hope you can understand that i didn’t have ill intent” jarim tried to defend herself, pleading for you to listen. you allowed her to continue, still holding the folded piece of paper in your hand.

“i’m sorry about making things awkward now with jeno, i want to make it up to you both” she paused, waiting for you to respond.

“i appreciate you coming to apologise and everything but jeno and i aren’t, and will never be a thing. i think it’s pretty clear how he feels about me” you try handing back the paper to her but she stops you.

“no you’re wrong, jeno likes you. he really does. he just has a crappy way of showing it. that piece of paper is an itinerary for your first date with him” jarim gave you a small smile.

“i’m confused? you’re suddenly playing match maker now?” you scoffed, fed up with the schemes,

“well yes! i think you two should give it a shot. just read through what i planned out. jeno will be at the cafe on friday night. it’s up to you if you want to go on the date or not, no pressure. i really am sorry again, i hope you can forgive me” jarim gave you a soft nod before leaving your house. you let out a short sigh, unfolding the piece of paper. you weren’t sure if you were ready to speak to jeno again, nonetheless go on a date with him. you couldn’t help but think about what could have happened between you two. would it be so bad?

//

on friday night, you were finishing up your shift at the cafe. mark and mina kept you company. mark was ranting about the next basketball game and mina was stressed about the upcoming cheer competition. you were wiping down your last table when the bell on top of the door rang, signalling someone had just entered. you swiftly turn to meet whoever came in, your face falling at the sight of jeno, still in his basketball jacket, staring right back at you. you walked right past him, removing your apron. mark awkwardly shifted looks between the both of you.

“y/n, can we talk?” jeno finally breaks the silence, walking closer to the counter you were standing behind. mark and mina slowly crept out of the cafe, mark mouthing a quick apology to you before scurrying off. you sighed, still unsure if you wanted to be on speaking terms with jeno.

“what is there is talk about?” you questioned, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

“the date that jarim organised, i would really like to go on it” jeno stumbled over his words, holding the folded piece of paper, identical to the one you received earlier that week.

“look, i just don’t think it’s a good idea, jeno. i mean, us going on a date? isn’t it ridiculous?” you tried to brush off any indication you were interested in him.

“it’s not ridiculous to me, y/n. just give me a chance, please?” he tried so hard to get you to look at him. you finally caved in and saw how fragile he looked.

“i can bail whenever i feel like it?” you fold your arms, hoping you wouldn’t regret your decision.

“yes, of course” jeno nodded, as you made your way to stand next to him.

“then let’s get going” you pulled your jacket and walked out of the cafe with jeno.

“okay so first thing she wrote was for us to list three things we like about eachother” jeno read off the piece of paper as you both walked aimlessly on the sidewalk.

“suddenly i can’t come up with anything” you jokingly shrug as jeno shoots you a playful glare. he started to loosen up, instantly feeling more comfortable with you.

“if you wanna be like that, i’ll go first then. i like how patient you are with me. you don’t treat me like some moron during tutoring” jeno awkwardly smiled at you, watching as your face softened. you knew how hard he was trying to get his grades up.

“thankyou jeno, that’s really sweet. i’m really proud of how far you’ve come” you compliment, watching as his cheeks start heating up. jeno moved closer to you, your arms brushing against eachother.

“i like the way you call my name, i know it sounds strange but it’s nice listening to your voice” you chuckle softly, completely embarrassed by your response. jeno couldn’t help but gush, he didn’t realise that you felt the same towards him.

“i actually think that’s cute. i’ll just keep talking to you then? even if you tell me to shut up” he smirks, nudging you gently.

“yeah yeah, it’s your turn” you tried to rush through this segment, butterflies forming in your stomach.

“i like that you’re pretty” he stopped you both in your tracks, fingers dangling near yours. you looked up at him, his eyes gazing into yours.

“i-i think you’re pretty too” you blurred, causing jeno to chuckle. you shook your head,

“ah no i mean that, i think you’re good looking? handsome? beautiful?” you couldn’t stop rambling, which only entertained him more.

“i got it” he mumbled, inching closer to you. you felt your breath hitch, never being this close to him before. you were crumbling under his gaze, suddenly pulling away from him. jeno let out a soft sigh, inserting himself next to you as you both started walking again.

you made it to the dock, choosing to sit on a nearby bench, admiring the moonlight shining on the water.

“i like you, jeno. that’s the last thing” you muttered, avoiding eye contact with the boy. jeno couldn’t contain how happy he was, wanting to pull you into him as soon as you finished speaking. but he saw how your expression dropped, a look of concern washed over you.

“i like you too, y/n. but w-what’s wrong?” jeno placed his arm around your shoulder, giving you a gentle pat.

“i-i’m scared, okay? i’ve never really been in a relationship before or even confessed to a guy. and to top it off, you and mark aren’t completely on good terms yet. so it just feels like everything is working against us being together” you ranted, jeno listening along to every word you said. he paused before responding, seeing how you were so worried about this, made his heart ache.

“hey, it’s okay. i don’t want to rush you into dating me or anything. i will work on my relationship with mark, if it makes you more comfortable. i swear, i would do anything to be with you, y/n. i can promise you that” jeno’s words brought much needed assurance to you. you finally looked over at him, his eyes dazzling under the moonlight.

“what will everyone think? i mean, i’m practically a no one. and you’re lee jeno. you aren’t scared of committing social suicide?” you dramatically point out. jeno throws his head back in laughter.

“i don’t care what anyone thinks. i just care what you think.” jeno slowly takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. you felt your heart race. how was he do good at this?

“how can i be sure that this isn’t another ploy to get to mark? how do i know this is real, jeno?” you mumble, still afraid of getting hurt again.

“if i could take back what i did, i would. without a doubt. y/n, i just want to be someone who’s good enough to be seen with you” jeno confesses, his words bringing a small smile to your face.

“well you should have thought about that before you humiliated me at the party! i really wanted to give you a piece of my mind, you know? there’s nothing you can do now that will make me forgive yo-“

you were cut off mid rant, feeling a pair of lips meet yours. you felt his hand gently caress your cheek, you didn’t know what came over you. you pressed your lips closer to his, if that was even possible. jeno softly mumbled against your lips,

“i’m sorry, i’ve just wanted to do that for so long” you ignored him for a bit, pulling him into you again. kissing jeno was something your past self would have beat you up for. but it just felt so damn good.

jeno broke away from your lips, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. you were intensely blushing at this point. hands now placed on the sides of jeno’s face. he looked at you with so much admiration, you couldn’t help but swoon over him.

“hate to say, but i was wrong about you” you whispered, a wide smile making its way to his lips.

“i’m all yours, y/n. i want to be there for you, through everything. i want to be the one you go to for comfort. i want you to come to my games and cheer me on. i want you to keep tutoring me until we graduate. i just want to be with you” jeno couldn’t stop rambling, the overwhelming feelings he had towards you were taking over him.

“i want to be with you too, jeno. it feels so good to finally say it” you surprise him by pecking his lips quickly. jeno’s eyes widened, he couldn’t hold back his need to embrace you. jeno pulled you up from the bench, wrapping his arms around you.

“thankyou, for everything” he mumbled against your forehead, placing a small kiss on it, as you both embraced eachother.

and that’s how you ended up dating your best friend’s half brother...it was definitely a story you enjoyed telling. dating lee jeno was filled with random rants in the early hours of the morning, breakfast delivered at your door step before he walked you to school. he visited the cafe to keep you company on your shifts, in return you would attend his basketball games, painting his jersey number in your cheek. he always searched for you in the crowd, giving you a wink before shooting the winning basket. it was ritual for you to jump in his arms after every game, whispering endless congratulations to him while kissing his cheeks. being with jeno was surprisingly drama free. he was completely loyal to you, and always showed you off every chance he could. he had also gotten closer to mark, partially due to your help. so you all ended up hanging out often, riding the roller coaster of life together.

who would have thought that the arrogant boy who despised your best friend, would become the most important person in your life?

[internalsealpanic]

Lesson Learned

summary: Pinning exercises are a lot easier when you ask nicely.

a/n: The backstory to this piece was that I went to the church part of our discord server and told people about me being thirsty about Slade and they collectively went: DO HIM. The reader does have a backstory which boils down to rich girl from a crime family is a little shit because I thought this would have a funny dynamic with Slade.  Special thanks to @batarella and @knightfall05x for proof reading and giving me ideas. Would this count as my one entry for kinktober? 

warnings:  This is straight up smut. Please read responsibly. Brat taming, strength kink, daddy kink, orgasm denial, and hinted size kink. (Hilariously half of these were by complete accident.) There is some injury mentioned but not too graphically. Both characters are assholes.   

masterlist

Slade was on the ground, his head was swimming even as the sharp shriek of sirens rang loud in his ears. His senses were at once too sharp and too unfocused. Whatever drug he'd been hit with had to have targeted the nerves in his muscles too. He couldn't move. Not substantially anyway. Not in a way that would actually help him.  Through the haze he hears the clicking of heels against the floor, then a sharp pain shoots through him when said heel dug into one of his still closing bullet wounds. 

 You stood above him, your shark's smile hidden behind your mask.  "Well old man, I didn't think you would be caught this easy. I might need to rethink this meeting." You hummed tapping your chin as you lean down your heel digging further into his flesh. It's a tactic your sister had taught you. People were less inclined to think clearly when in excruciating pain.  If Deathstroke was this easy to capture, was he really worth your money? 

 He was watching you, blue eyes looking defiant. You whistled low. You liked a hard negotiation. It kept things more interesting. The rapid footsteps of men drew you out of your contemplation much to your annoyance. You debated on just paying them to go away. It would make your life easier but there's a chance these men were truly loyal to the man you had just paid a visit to.

 You weigh your options. His reputation may be enough to keep your siblings away. Maybe just long enough 'til their petty little war is over. "I'm going to hire you-"

 "-this assumes I'm going to say yes"

 You snorted. He noted the confident roll in your shoulders, the kind of cocky self-assured gesture of someone who knows they're going to win.  Every movement, every angling of your form deliberately used to show a difference in power and lack of respect. In short, it made you very punchable.

 "Your statement assumes you have a choice." You chuckled tilting your head to the side in challenge. He scowled at you and you try to keep the sheer delight you feel out of your body language. You weren't sadistic by any means but for one, brutality was practically bred into you, and two, you are, what your darling eldest brother had so kindly put, a  little bitch.  "I'll tell you why you'll say yes to my proposal." You said stepping off of him and pirouetting towards your duffle bag. "One, I'm offering your more than a million dollars in cash for the simple job of training me-" You observed his face as it remains carefully impassive. You expected as much. You heft your bag into your arms and unzip it rummaging through the cache of weapons you had stored just in case plan A through F failed you. "Unless we're associated, I'm the only one walking out of here with any money for their troubles." You said tossing the severed head of his target in front of him. You gave him an all too pleased grin. 

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 You find yourself pinned down again in the span of 15 minutes, face squished against the training mat, your arms pinned behind you, and most annoyingly your ass raised while your bastard of an instructor laughs in your ear, his lips dangerously close to your ear. You hiss and bristle feeling the fibers in your muscles burn from the uncomfortable angle they've been forced into.  You squirm trying to buck him off but his strength rendered your efforts moot. His enhanced strength keeps your body firmly between the sweat-covered mat and his large, toned body which just made you bite your lip to keep anything vulgar from escaping you. 

 You were 110% sure he was fucking with you at this point but any smart remark you had was either smothered by the mat or died whenever you felt acutely aware of your skin against his.  

 "Get off of me, old man," You snarl, making a futile attempt to kick him off with one of your legs. He chuckles at your weak attempts, the reverberations from his chest pressing against your back sending a thrum of excitement rolling over you concentrating into more distracting areas. You can't see it but you know he's grinning smugly above you and you can't decide whether it's your horniness or your anger that will win out. You sincerely hope it's the latter. 

 "C'mon, kid, you can get out of this," He encourages but you don't miss the playful mockery dancing in his tone. You squirm and wriggle and sigh. "Just let me out," You demand, politely. He doesn't budge. You turn your head to pout petulantly at him. That doesn't do anything either. 

 You sigh again. You hated pinning exercises with a carefully cultivated passion which you would normally direct at whatever instructor was dumb enough to force it upon you. However, that wasn't really possible as of this moment. One of the reasons for this hatred was that you were never pinned down unless you wanted to be, even then they were usually too hesitant to follow through so you never really saw any practical use for the skill. That is until last week when you found yourself being pinned down by the Red Hood which was honestly a fantastic position if you weren't trying to get away from him. Apparently, the large man didn't take too kindly to being shot at even when your very professional self explained that you were in fact a decoy. After you were entirely unable to slip his hold, you begrudgingly agreed to let Slade teach you a few maneuvers. The other reason was that you liked being pinned down. Your body is far too enthusiastic about the feeling of being pinned down. You're pretty sure you've expended more energy into suppressing your thrilled shivers than you have trying to get out of any of the holds he's demonstrated so far.  The fact that he was an attractive asshole with no shirt did not help.    

 "Maybe if you ask nicely, princess" He drawls his teeth grazing your ear, beard bristling against the sensitive skin of your shoulder. You bite back a groan and stop the cant of your hips. "Or are you even capable of that?"

 "I am, sir" You grind out but it sounds too breathy to be threatening. You feel the curve of his lips against your shoulder.

 "Dunno, brat, I've never seen you do it," He taunts pressing closer to you. You're suddenly aware of just how close you two are. You hate how the way he called you brat sent thrills up your spine. You try to even your breath but you're entirely too feverish both body and mind. You had to think of something before you were lost in a haze.

 You nudge your arm one last time before an idea strikes. A familiar shark-like grin spreads like wildfire across your features. Pressing your ass against his crotch, you roll your hips, the movement slow and deliberate and painfully tempting. Sure, it was a dirty trick but 1) he never said anything about using your assets 2) you've been wanting to do that since the first hold. You feel his muscles tense and you can't help but radiate smugness.  Your smile vanishes, however, when he rolls his hips against yours giving you a feel of his hardened length through the thin fabric of your gym shorts. The slow, tantalizing friction against your core draws out a vulgar moan from you. 

 "Do you wanna run that by me again, brat?" He whispers low and husky emphasizing the last word with another grind of his hip. You pant, hips answering back with their own desperate movement. You want to let your hips keep moving, to make him move, to feel his cock against your core but pride flared in your chest. "Make me." You bite out. "I really should teach you some manners."You feel the low rumble of his answer in response seemingly amused by your continued resistance. He rocks his hips against yours drawing out another breathy moan from you. Out of spite you bite your bottom lip and rock your hips in tandem with his. What did you hope to accomplish from this? You don't know but it certainly felt good. Your skin feels hot and oversensitive as your bodies continue to move at this rhythm. The feel of his muscles rippling against you makes you arch your back. You wanted more but you had too much pride. As if spurred on by the movement, he presses a kiss on your shoulder and sucks at your flesh, a rough hand grips your waist tight enough to bruise. "Slade!" You choke out losing your composure.  The cry sounds more like a plea than you would like. You sound so small and needy beneath his ministrations. 

 Distilling your anger into your weakening limbs you try to buck him off again. You make a small noise of triumph when he budges but whine when his grip on you just gets tighter. "Not quite, princess,"  

 He flips you onto your back. A hand pins both your arms above your head as he situates himself between your legs. His lips capture yours in a rough kiss, the type where you feel two bodies fighting each other for dominance. His teeth bite lightly against your bottom lip asking for entrance. You open your lips less in concession and more of a challenge. The wet muscles of your tongues entangle. Your nose is filled with the musk of him. It was overwhelming. You moan into the kiss and you feel him smile into it. Another small victory. 

 Slade ends the kiss having undeniably won the match. You try to move your hand to punch the grin off his face but again your hands don't budge. You curse his enhanced strength halfheartedly as the feeling of the heat coiling in the pit of your stomach takes over. Instead of diving back in for another kiss as you expected, Slade trails kisses down your jawline, your throat, and your collar bone leaving very defined very visible hickeys. There was something oddly possessive in his actions.  The look in his eye was predatory. 

 You, foolishly, let your attention wander to your hands seeing what angle you could possibly force them into so you can slip his grip and maybe turn the tables. Your attention snaps back to him when the pressure around your chest loosens and the distinct sound of a zipper fills your ears. Your eyes widen as you watch as he unzips the front of your sports bra with his teeth. Your breath catches even as your chest fills with the lack of constriction. Your too hot skin is grazed by the training room's cold air. He places a kiss in the valley between your breasts but when you whimper and move slightly urging him to proceed. He moves on to your stomach. "Asshat" You seethe through gritted teeth. You let out a groan of frustration. You were going to kill him. You honestly don't care if you've just wasted half a billion dollars on this asshole. 

 His kisses drift down to your inner thigh drawing a moan from you. Slade chuckles seeing your desire seeping through the thin fabric of your shorts. He isn't entirely surprised considering how unsubtle you are about your interest. A rare moment of embarrassment blankets you. Your legs try to close but rough hands pry them apart placing them on his broad shoulders. You bite your lip when he plants a kiss on your inner thigh. Your lips are puffy and red at this point, looking delicious as you panted. Slade wonders how your lips would feel around his cock but he decides he'll save that for another time. He hooks his fingers on the waistband of your shorts and his eye widens momentarily when he doesn't feel a second layer of fabric underneath it. He looks at you incredulously.

 You shrug trying to keep the mischief off your face looking absolutely unapologetic. "It's laundry day-" You shrug a little amused that this is the detail that caught him off guard. "-I did tell you I had stuff to do~"He also supposedly had stuff to do but, apparently, you were stuff. He chuckled and without dignifying your comment with an actual response, he rips your shorts off with ease and tosses them somewhere behind him.  A complaint or a threat, you weren't entirely sure, died on your lips when his tongue gave your core a nice long lick. A loud, needy keen escapes you. Your hands now free from his grasp dig into his scalp.  Pleased with your reaction he continues. His skilled tongue exploring your core hitting spots you didn't even know were there. Your hips meet to match his pace as he fucks you with his tongue. You whine when he withdraws his tongue but mewl loud and wanton when you feel two rough fingers stretching your insides. His mouth latches onto your sensitive bud, fingers pumping in and out.  You throw your head back not being able to contain your moans.

 "Look at me, brat," The command is deep and resonant. Your whole body buzzes with excitement. Slade can see your eyes dilate as his voice drops an octave. 

 "Yes," Your breath hitches when he doesn't move. "Sir" You add as a concession hoping it was enough. You felt your pride waning from the small piece of power being given away. Thankfully, he rewards you with another long lick before you can dwell on it. Slade watches as your face twists in pleasure trying your best not to throw your head back. You see the smugness on his face even when half of his face is buried between your legs. You don't attempt a threat simply because you don't trust whatever comes out of your mouth to be coherent. You were so close. You rock your hips trying to chase your high. Your skin is flush and glistening with sweat. You were so close. He feels your walls tightening around his fingers. Another needy keen escapes you as you were about to tip over the edge. 

 The motherfucker pulls back. You snarl at him but it comes out sounding more like a needy croon than anything else. He chuckles at you even as he captures your lips for another kiss. His tongue is thick with the taste of you. Your hand tangles itself into his hair while the other tugs at the waistband of his sweatpants.  He pulls away giving your lips one last nip before his body is off of you. It's funny how just moments ago you wanted him off of you badly enough that you'd play any dirty trick you could think of but now your skin is burning for his touch.  He takes off his sweat pants and his engorged cock slaps against his abs. It takes every brain cell at your disposal not to drool at the sight of it. He was BIG. You wonder briefly if he would even fit.  

 He spits on his cock rubbing his head against your thoroughly soaked folds. You mewl. A playful look in his eye does not go unnoticed but you were far too preoccupied with other concerns. Thankfully, so did he. Slade eases into your pussy in slow shallow thrusts. You can physically feel your walls stretching inch by inch as he works his way into your tight pussy. He can feel every bit of resistance your pussy is putting up. It's his turn to hiss when he finally bottoms out. Your walls cling to his member trying to milk it for all its worth. You drag your nails down from his shoulder to his arms. You pout when his skin heals immediately. You wanted to mark him as he did you but apparently, his healing factor was not up to being kinky today.   

 He laughs at your little protest and gives you a quick kiss. He begins to thrust shallow and languid. Your lips are locked in, sensually nibbling at each other's lips. You arch your back pressing your chest against his musculature savoring every bit of stimulation you could get.   You cant your hips against his urging him to go faster. His large hand grips your hips and pins them down. The coil in your stomach grows tighter at the ease at which he stops you. You feel him grin against your hot skin. 

 "Didn't I say I would teach you some manners?" He pulls himself out leaving you feeling hollow and wanting. You're pretty sure if you weren't drunk on your arousal the look in your eyes would be nothing short of murder, however, this was not the case, Whatever venom you had in you vanished in a swirl of neediness that racked your body. Your cant your hips uselessly trying to find friction only to be met with cool air. 

 "Slade pleeeeaaase!"

 You gasp, as a sharp stinging sensation on your pussy knocks the breath out of you. Slade gives you an expectant look. 

 "Sir, plea-"

 Another slap. Your back arches.  You’re panting heavy, mind swirling and searching. 

 "Daddy please!" The words tumble from your lips thoughtlessly. You both freeze. Slade's face is unreadable making you want to shrink away and let the earth swallow you whole. Panic rises in your chest until you feel his hips slam against yours. The force is enough to knock the breath out of you. He manhandles your body to fuck you at a better angle. His grip on your thighs tight and bruising. You whimper when he dips his head down near yours pressing kisses to your jaw and the pulsating flesh of your neck leaving your mouth free to moan his name like a mantra.   A deep resonant growl rumbles in his chest sending thrills through your skin into your spine. Your hardened nipples drag against his chest as they bounce with his pace. His cock pumps in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You were absolutely going mad over his rough pace but it wasn't enough to push you over. You were both so close.

 "Daddy, please! I- I need-" Slade's cock twitches. His pace goes from animalistic to punishing in the space of a heartbeat. He growls into your ear as he reaches down to rub your clit with skilled, calloused fingers. Your walls tighten around him as you go over the edge.  Your orgasm hits you in a flurry of heat and electricity. He fucks you through it as he chases his own. He pulls out his cock. Ropes of cum covering your chest and your stomach. 

 He lays beside you pulling you close. You moan quietly still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, planting an open-mouthed kiss. You ease into his hold and close your eyes. 

 "See how easy your life is when you're a good girl, princess," He whispers mockingly into your ear. You raise a middle finger at him too fucked out to care whether it actually conveyed as much venom as you wanted it to. 

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Thanks for reading! Next week will be our regularly scheduled fluff unless I get possessed by the thirst muses. 

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[baoshan-sanren]

Chapter 55

Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

Google Docs file

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Part 1 | Chapter 8 Part 2 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 Part 1 | Chapter 15 Part 2 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 Part 1 | Chapter 22 Part 2 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33 | Chapter 34 | Chapter 35 | Chapter 36 | Chapter 37 | Chapter 38 | Chapter 39 | Chapter 40 | Chapter 41 | Chapter 42 | Chapter 43 | Chapter 44 | Chapter 45 | Chapter 46 | Chapter 47 | Chapter 48 & Chapter 49 | Chapter 50 | Chapter 51 | Chapter 52 | Chapter 53 | Chapter 54

“I want to see A-Yuan.”

WangJi suppresses a sigh, and makes no response.

Jiang WanYin, who has likely never suppressed a single thing in his life, bristles like a cat, “Are you deaf, as well as stupid? The Lan Sect Leader has ordered that you rest. Granny Wen has ordered that you rest. You are not going.”

Slumped against the pillows, Wei Ying does appear feeble and weak, his body motionless in a way that suggests an exhaustion too deep for needless activity. It had taken a long time to remove all the trappings of rank necessary for the audience he had held. It had not taken nearly as long as the initial preparation, but long enough where even Lady Jiang had looked worn down by the process. WangJi’s task during this time had involved standing on the other side of the screen, listening to the faint mutters, and being handed layers upon layers of silk. The disrobing process had resulted in a succession of whispering, slithering sounds, both of silk against silk, and silk against Wei Ying’s skin, sounds that will doubtlessly haunt him in his dreams.  

He is not precisely tired, but he is beginning to feel brittle in an unfamiliar way. The day had been long and stressful, allowing no time for contemplation and reflection. There will be consequences to the assistance the Lan Sect had provided to the Emperor. There will be consequences to such a blatant attack on the Divine Ruler, and these consequences may range anywhere from a set of executions, to an outright war. There will be consequences to Wei Ying’s actions today, the audience he had held, his defense of Wen RuoHan, his order for the immediate release of the Wen Sect from the Imperial dungeons.

Only days ago, WangJi would have disregarded the majority of these events as issues beyond his scope of understanding and responsibility, but today, he cannot. Soon enough, this will be his world as well. The Second Young Master of a disgraced Sect need only obey. The Emperor Consort must understand the complexities of ruling an Empire, the consequences of each decision made, the hierarchy governing the sect relations, and the full scope of the delicate balancing act that keeps the Empire peaceful and prosperous.

This is the cost of marrying Wei Ying, a price that WangJi is more than willing to pay. But it is a cost made no less overwhelming by his willingness.  

Wei Ying’s expression turns stubborn, “He is alone among strangers, thinking I am on my death bed. I want to see him.”

“Wei WuXian,” Jiang WanYin says tightly, “if you can get up right now and walk out of this palace on your own two feet, you can go see A-Yuan, or go straight to hell for all I care.”

Lady Jiang may have acquiesced to his request, but she had taken her leave. The Imperial guards could have been ordered to carry Wei Ying anywhere he desires to go, but this would defeat the purpose of keeping the child hidden.

Wei Ying had been ordered to sleep.

WangJi thinks, if he could only be persuaded to close his eyes and stop speaking for a moment, the exhaustion he is trying so hard to ignore would accomplish the rest.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines, turning his head, his eyes large and shining, “I want to see A-Yuan.”

Wisps of hair are stuck to his cheek, curving around the line of his jaw. His face is pale, but his lips are no longer bloodless, hovering just on the verge of a pout. WangJi knows that this is an expression Wei Ying has used before; he has seen it turned on Lady Jiang, and he has seen it throughly shatter her resolve. He remembers thinking Lady Jiang too easily swayed by such obvious tactics. He remembers thinking that he, himself, would never fold so easily by a mere hint of a pout.

WangJi is a fool. Love must permanently remove the most essential parts of one’s brain, because he can say absolutely nothing in response to Wei Ying’s plea.

Instead, his mind unhelpfully provides the memory of Wei Ying’s braid coiled in his lap. Wei Ying’s temple pressed to the side of his neck. The rich scent of ripe pears. The curve of Wei Ying’s waist through the heavy silk of the Imperial dragon robes.  

Underneath these memories, his mind is hopelessly sifting through possible solutions to the issue. Wei Ying most certainly can not walk out of the palace on his own two feet. He can not cross his own chambers without being supported, and would likely need to be carried any longer distances. A-Yuan cannot be brought to him, as the situation at court is still dangerously tense, and the child must remain hidden.

“If you attempt this,” WangJi says carefully, “you will fall ill before you reach him. It will scare the child, to see you so weak. But if you must go see him, I will carry you.”

Jiang WanYin splutters.

Wei Ying’s eyes widen.

The expression on his face, the baffled disbelief slowly melting into a familiar softness, is so open, so transparent, that WangJi feels his own face heat in response. He is suddenly finding the embroidery on Wei Ying’s bed curtains extremely fascinating.

“You are both right,” Wei Ying says after a few moments, “I should not go tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough.”

“Ugh,” Jiang WanYin says, “Now I feel ill too. Just go to sleep.”

“You leave first,” Wei Ying says, “I want to speak to Lan Zhan.”

Jiang WanYin makes a noise. It is a wordless one, but it still manages to perfectly express a hefty dose of disgust. He leaves quickly, as if afraid that Wei Ying will begin to speak to Lan Zhan before he has managed to make his exit.

Wei Ying reaches out, but seems to do so unthinkingly, the motion immediately interrupted by a hiss of pain. Perhaps the wrist injury is not the most serious one he had suffered, but WangJi has noticed him forget that particular pain often enough, where each resurgence catches him by surprise. In two steps, he finds himself by the bed, but once there, he is forced to stop and practice some self-restraint.

“You promised to be more careful,” he says, “The Head Healer should have strapped that arm to your chest.”

He means it as an admonishment, but his voice does a poor job conveying anything other than worry.

“It does not hurt,” Wei Ying lies with a smile, “Come sit next to me. That way, I do not need to move much.”

Only moments ago he had insisted that he is well enough to visit A-Yuan. Now, he is too weak to move on his own, and must have WangJi sit by his side.

WangJi wonders why these brazen tactics, which would be abhorrent in anyone else, are so irresistibly appealing when employed by Wei Ying. He wonders if there is anything about Wei Ying that will ever be unappealing. He is, again, forced to consider the possibility that love makes one unbearably stupid, and that this is precisely why he has already moved to sit down by Wei Ying, without giving the consequences of such action any further thought.

Wei Ying reaches for him again, the moment he has settled on the side of the bed, and WangJi takes his hand carefully, supporting the splinted wrist with his palm.

“You said you would not move.” 

“I forgot,” Wei Ying says shamelessly, his fingers warm against WangJi’s pulse.

“You should sleep,” WangJi admonishes.

“I will,” Wei Ying says quickly, “but I have not-- had the chance to speak to you. After-- the Gifting Ceremony.”

His gaze lowers to their joined hands, fingers restless against WangJi skin, despite the fact that even this small movement must pain him.

“A great deal has happened,” he goes on, the words rushed, “There is so much I was not aware of before. About YanLing DaoRen, and his use of resentful energy, and this-- apparent affinity for demonic cultivation present in his descendants. The Lan Sect takes pride in the purity of their cultivation techniques. Over the centuries, they alone have remained unblemished by unorthodox practices.”

He falls silent then, letting WangJi try and make sense of the words on his own. This feels much akin to Wei Ying’s proposal, where WangJi must separate the words, then place them in a different order, just to discern the meaning behind them.

Once he does, however, he feels frustration and fondness flood him in equal measures.

“I still want to marry you, Wei Ying.”

“You--“ Wei Ying shifts, “Are you not worried? This affinity does not bother you?”

“Will you begin practicing demonic cultivation?” WangJi counters.

“What? Of course not!”

“Then it does not matter,” WangJi says firmly.

“How can it not matter?” Wei Ying says, agitated, “YanLing DaoRen nearly destroyed the Empire. He slaughtered thousands. How can you be sure that his madness will not become my own?”

WangJi, prepared to call his assertion utter nonsense that it is, pauses before speaking. It had not occurred to him that Wei Ying would be so throughly rattled by Nie HuaiSang’s revelation.  

In retrospect, it seems obvious that this had to have been the purpose of Xue ChengMei’s story. To sow doubts and fears, not just in Wei Ying, but in all those closest to the Emperor. A filthy tactic, meant to cause chaos and uncertainty. It is no wonder that Song ZiChen had demanded no one speak to the boy.

“Wei Ying,” WangJi says carefully, “You are not YanLing DaoRen. I am not Lan ZhongYi. We exist under the shadow of those who came before us, and bear the burdens they have placed on our shoulders. But we are not them.”

Wei Ying’s breath stutters, his fingers pressing against WangJi’s wrist.

“But--“

“We spoke of Lan ZhongYi, and the reasons behind his actions. Do you remember what I said to you?”

“My mother did not kill Xu XiaoYun,” Wei Ying says softly.

“And I did not kill the Empress,” WangJi responds.

The words feel much lighter than he had imagined they could be, if ever spoken out loud.

Wei Ying falls silent, a rare enough occurrence where WangJi allows it to happen. There are now dark shadows under his eyes, and it takes a great deal of restraint not to issue another reminder about the necessity for rest, and long, uninterrupted sleep. Perhaps Wei Ying’s stubbornness requires a different type of approach. WangJi is starting to believe that any firm insistence on a specific course of action is more likely to propel Wei Ying in a completely opposite direction. This is something that will require further thought.

“You still want to marry me?” Wei Ying says, the corner of his mouth now slightly lifted, an expression that is not quite serious, but not quite teasing either.

“Yes,” WangJi says, “I still want to marry you.”

Wei Ying grins, shifting a little closer, “Will you allow me to make the announcement? Before the Lan Sect departs?”

WangJi is certain that the events of the last few days have already reached Cloud Recesses. The delay to consult with the Elders seems pointless now, as the rumors of the betrothal have been running rampant since the last Sect Leader meeting. Uncle’s actions, during and after the Gifting Ceremony, must have only served to reinforce these rumors.

It is difficult to decide which course of action will result in greater impropriety. An immediate announcement, or a lengthy delay, during which the entire court will ruthlessly judge his every interaction with the Emperor. The Emperor who is wholly unashamed of expressing his affection, and insists on behaving as if they are already betrothed.

WangJi sighs, “You must obtain uncle’s approval for the announcement.”

“Will you come and visit A-Yuan with me tomorrow?”

WangJi nods. It is a small enough request, and he is fond enough of the child where a visit would not be a chore.

“Will you spend the night?”

“Wei Ying!”

It is unbearable, the sheer number of times Wei Ying can make his face heat in a single day. How can an Emperor be so utterly shameless?

“Ahh, Lan Zhan, do not be angry. I only meant that you should stay in the Imperial chambers. What if I were to fall ill during the night and need assistance?”

Carefully, WangJi places his hand back down, and rises from the bed, “If this is the case, we should summon the Head Healer right now, and request that she spend the night in the Imperial chambers.”

Wei Ying splutters, “Wait-- that--“

“I would not want to take the chance of you falling ill during the night.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines, “Why are you so cruel? Can I not ask my future husband to spend the night with me?”

“No, you may not.”

“What if I were to find myself unable to sleep, and in need of company?”

“Summon the Royal Companion. I am sure he will be equal to the task.”

“But--“

WangJi bows deeply, “Good night, Your Majesty. I will take my leave now.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying’s voice follows him out into the hall, “Hey, Lan Zhan! Wait!”

WangJi closes the door behind him, and turns to the nearest guard, “His Majesty requires the presence of the Royal Companion. And the Head Healer.”

The guard does not question the order.

[hooniee]

 — ꒰‧⁺paris run away  *ೃ༄

↷ heeseung x reader ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷genre: fluff | comdey ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ warnings: not proofread | none! ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ synopsis: (y/n) just graduates from high school and feel incomplete but doesn’t know what’s missing. a trip to paris might be able to fix that ⋯ ♡ᵎ 

↷ author note: this is @enhypenwriters​ event of the month! strangers to lovers <3 i think this was my favorite to write out of the three pieces but i feel like it’s lacking some flare :( i think it still turned out okay though. i hope you enjoy <3 ⋯ ♡ᵎ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

you should have listened to sunoo when he said that it wasn't a good plan to travel to a foreign country on impulse.

you wouldn’t say you’ve ever been the most courageous person in your life. determined to break that trend, you planned this super out of the blue trip without much thought.

yeah. maybe this was a bit TOO courageous.

you didn't comprehend what compelled you yet here you were, arriving at paris charles de gaulle airport.

you stared at the large windows of the airport, viewing the plane that you had just left.

the gate for the concluding passengers had been locked by the flight stewardesses.

one of the stewardesses obtained eye contact with you, before shooting a smile and lightly bowing her head.

you absentmindedly returned the gesture, mind elsewhere.

bustling throughout the airport were people hurrying to their connecting flight or slumping into their lover's arms

people carried two or more suitcases with various bags strapped on their bodies, nothing on you besides a petite sling purse and one small carry on suitcase.

as weaved your way through the mass of stressed travelers, you briefly thought to yourself

how the hell did you get here?

2 days earlier

clusters of kids outfitted in blue gowns and caps could be recognized a mile away.

the graduation from high school to university.

your friend minji encloses her arm around your shoulder, your arm resting on her waist.

minji’s mom was stood in front of the both of you, gesturing wildly as she tried to take the ‘perfect graduation photo’ as she had put it

"okay pose! get a little closer, perfect. 1, 2, 3"  your friend's mom counts.

the camera shudders which creates a beaming light to flash, eyes faintly twitching.

shrieks could be heard throughout the campus as girls queued up to take their final photographs with the popular guys.

minji's mom draws back the camera and we check the picture.

"it's cute," minji exclaims, peering at it a bit more closer. you nod your head in approval.

you would miss minji, one of the friends you could constantly count on in math class when you neglected to do your homework from binging korean dramas.

"i'll send you the picture later (y/n)! don't forget about me alright? you have my socials and you can always talk to me," minji grasps your hands

you smile, feeling sad at the departure of your best friend, "of course minji, don't forget me either"

"i could never," she brings you into a secure hug.

"sweet pea perfume," you say and she chuckles. sweat pea was minji's preferred perfume and you would miss that aroma.

"i have to go now, but i'll see you around okay?" minji says.

you could notice tears well up in her eyes and she fans her eyes to prevent the tears.

"don't cry ji, i'll start crying," you joked. "i live near here and you can always visit me! my door will always be open."

she smiled, "the same goes for you." her mother shouts her name before she has to go.

"alright, see you around," you wave to her as she leaves.

on the opposite side of the garden, your mom signals to you with your bouquet of red roses in hand.

"are you ready honey?" she asks you and you smile, nodding your head.

the car ride was in pleasant quietness, light radio music fluttering in. you had taken off your cap and laid it in the car seat next to you accompanying with your bouquet. 

you had glimpsed outside to see your campus still arranged with your classmates, beaming and posing for additional pictures.

you bitterly smiled. 

for the first time, graduation didn't appear like one of those liberating scenes of a movie,

1 day ago

you sprawled on his bed, staring straight up. a fan in your hand, fanning the perspiration that threatened to come.

your eyes match the fan's speed directly above your neighbor and best friend, sunoo's, bed.

his air conditioner was broken. with the avail of those elementary paper fans and the only fan stationed in the house, you were able to find comfort

you questioned if he ever got frightened of it dropping on him when he slept.

sunoo occupies the bathroom that's joined to his room, applying some light powder.

your mind strays, more thoughts simmering in the back of your brain. you sigh for the 10th time and sunoo being exasperated, allows out a loud groan. 

it draws you out of your daze and you snap your head towards him."

"what is with you? what is on your mind sunshine?" he shuts his cushion, flinging himself on the bed.

"are you ever scared of the fan falling on you?" you felt the bed dip

"no, it's been like that for years, and don't change the subject. what's wrong?" sunoo retorted 

"what makes you say that? i'm fine, " you answer

"uh-huh," sunoo rolls his eyes

it's the blatant eye-roll rather than the hushed one, he implied business

"you've been sighing for the past ten minutes, spill," sunoo says

of course, sunoo could recognize your distress. what sort of best friend would he be if he couldn't distinguish your emotions?

you huff, " okay then"

"i don't know why but i just feel stuck? i just graduated high school and nothing feels different, i mean it doesn't have to, but what do i do now? maybe i just watched too many movies"

sunoo tsked, " (y/n). sweetie, i graduated last year and i'm still stuck here. i do nothing besides go out or stay in my room. no in-between."

"but you have something sunoo. you have a bunch of your friends, you're an instagram star and i don't know, it's just different, "

it was accurate, sunoo was extremely popular. he had a bunch of friends and acquaintances from being the vice president. 

sunoo inflated up on social media for his content from makeup to dance practices, a versatile instagram star.

you conceal your face with your hands before emitting a loud groan.

sunoo remarks, "i don't know how i can help you (y/n)? maybe you should try to rest a bit"

"easy for you to say, you, who isn’t dealing with a mid-life crisis, " you whine.

"this isn't a mid-life crisis, this is a post-graduation crisis which is totally normal. how about going out of town? obviously not to paris or whatever but maybe, what was her name again? minjoo's town!" sunoo suggested.

"obviously not to paris"

"not to paris"

"to paris"

"paris"

what about paris? paris was considerably away from your town and had a ring on the tip of your tongue. 

you had sprung up, grasping sunoo by the shoulder and shaking him, "you're a genius sunoo! paris is a genius idea."

sunoo's eyes widen and he shakes his head while attempting to pry your hands off of him.

"no, you have to think rationally-"

you released sunoo from your hold which let him stabilize his spinning head.

"and i am! i need something new. being in this town for my whole life makes me realize, maybe i just need a spontaneous trip. "

your words scarcely blur together, adrenaline rushing through your blood as you understood this could jolt you out of your post-graduation slump.

"but-"

"no buts! pass me my laptop,"

present-day

you are currently disliking your choice, anxiety rushing through your veins, but it's too overdue to have other opinions.

you had landed in france and this was a life-altering moment; a chance of a lifetime.

peering nearby, you squint at the tiny english translations of the signs. you pull out your phone.

you open up the camera to see if zooming in would improve it for your eyes. as if on cue, your stomach rumbles vaguely making you startled.

you panicked as the pocket that was previously supplied with snacks became loaded with empty wrappers.

maybe if you would be lost in this wonderful city, you might as well try some of their famous pastries.

your muscles had retracted, the result of finally getting some movement after being restrained in a metal machine that was adjacent to the fiery sun.

you stumbled across this petite bakery and enter, sparingly bowing your head. 

the owner was an older lady with her greying hair that designed it to resemble ashy highlights, pulled into a loose bun.

"que puis-je vous offrir?" she smiles.

"i'm sorry, i don't speak french?" you admit, embarrassed

as much as you assumed duolingo and rosetta stone could benefit you on a flight to paris, the only thing you could accomplish to say without messing up is "bonjour"

"that's fine mademoiselle! what can i offer you?" the lady shifts to englsih

you let out a sigh of relief, appreciative for blundering into this bakery.

"may i have your most popular pastry to go and a water bottle?" you smile, fishing out some euros.

you had looked down to the currency that you had exchanged before embarking on the plane.

"of course mademoiselle!" she says, reaching behind the counter and with her gloved hand, seizing a chocolate croissant.

"that will be 4.12 euros!" she rings you up in the cashier.

"is this the right amount? i'm not very good at counting euros," you revealed your hand where the money was.

she nodded her head and took the money, printing your receipt out. before giving you your receipt, she interviews you with a question that you weren't confident in answering"

"if you don't mind me asking, why are you here in france? not to sound rude! but i'm just curious"

you softly smile, sensing the kindness illuminating from her tone of voice. she wasn't rude at all and she was asking a simple question, but your brain struggled to obtain an answer.

"well, i would say i'm here to explore?  i just finished high school and life felt incomplete. my best friend jokingly said "go to paris" and so I booked a ticket."

you look back up at her to see her delicate gaze. the rustling of the paper bag stopped the moment of silence

"that's amazing mademoiselle! france is the city for that. you must visit the notre-dam cathedral while you're here, it's beautiful. and maybe even find some love?"

she winks at you and you engage with a small giggle.

just like the show "emily in paris," you could merely fantasize about living a life like hers but it was an altered universe. she was an employed woman and you; a fresh graduate from high school.

"maybe! but i'm not looking forward to dating right now"

it wasn't a lie nor the truth. you would love to date someone right now but dating someone from a foreign country with a language barrier? not the most desirable idea. the owner laughs, handing you your pastry and water bottle.

"thank you for dropping by here mademoiselle! please enjoy your time in france,"

"merci beaucoup" you stumbled out, providing a small wave out.

the airport seemed to be more crowded than before. slowly opening the wrapping, you take a bite of the chocolate croissant and let out an audible gasp.

unquestionably, one of the greatest pastries you have tried in your life.

you promptly pull out your phone, snapping a picture for your instagram story. it was an adorable picture with the bakery in the background with the chocolate croissant in hand.

with "just landed" as your caption, you posted it to your close friends story. almost a second later, sunoo request to video call you.

you were welcomed by a piercing shriek into the phone.

"YAH I WAS JUST GREETED BY YOUR PARENTS WHO SAID YOU WERE AT A SLEEPOVER FOR A COUPLE DAYS? SLEEPOVER MY FOOT? YOU'RE IN PARIS-" 

sunoo screeches over the phone and you timidly grimace, turning down the volume as people begin to stare.

"sunoo, i'm currently in a public airport with no earbuds plugged in, can you please STOP screaming?" you whispered audibly to him.

"OH, I FORG- sorry," sunoo sheepishly responds.

"my parents would never let me go this far so i just had to lie that i was going to a sleepover at minji's house which is out of town. plus i'm only going to be here for two days," you consult him.

"you saw me buy the tickets sunoo. why are you scolding me now? shouldn't you have tried to stop me while i was in the middle of buying the tickets?" you added.

"well now i want you to come back, who am i supposed to hang out with for the next 2 days?" 

though it was dark in the setting sunoo was in, you could practically see his pouting face.

"you could hang out with jake? or sunghoon? aren't they both your friends?"

jake and sunghoon went to the same school as sunoo and you're buddies with them. you've known each other since middle school but jake and sunghoon were always closer to each other just like you and sunoo.

"jake and sunghoon hyung are busy on a vacation together in the bahamas"

you stifled a laugh in, "good luck being alone for the next two days."

"not funny (y/n)! besides that point, what if you get caught?"

"don't worry, i won't get caught because you're the only one who knows about this .as long as you don't rat me out sunoo," you scowl at him.

"i won't, i won't, i promise but you have to buy me something? deal?”

you roll your eyes, "deal mr. sunoo-shi, i have to go now. i need to try to find my hotel"

"be safe, love you!"

"i will! love you too"

you sulk after the call ends. without your best friend on your side, you felt a little feeble and lost but it's not time to be pondering like that. 

paris awaits and you couldn't linger at the airport the whole day.

first challenge 

getting to your hotel was a struggling. wandering around a city with no basis of the language besides "hello" and "thank you so much", didn't do enough for you.

first, you had to find a taxi that could converse in english. most people had turned you down as you couldn't speak french.

thankfully, it was a fortunate day and you met this kind lady who had coffee-colored curly locks, gentle chocolate eyes, and light freckles scattered around her face.

"do you speak english?" you crisscrossed your fingers, your legs close to giving out after scrambling for taxi drivers

"yeah, i do mademoiselle! would you like to hop in?" she extended a friendly smile and you had never felt bricks lift off your chest faster.

she opened the back of the taxi and you scouted in, permitting your purse to lay on your lap.

the women examined both directions of the road, looking out for passing cars and entered the driver's seat.

"where are you heading mademoiselle?"

you swiftly pull out your phone to your notes, "hotel le walt paris?"

you corked your eyebrow, making sure it was the right name before she nodded her head. 

"a very famous hotel huh? right near the eiffel tower. i recommend that you wait till it gets dark and sit on the balcony to see the eiffel tower with lights. it's beautiful"

you smiled at the kind words of the lady, "i will surely try that! thank you miss..?"

"elena! elena is fine and you mademoiselle?"

"i'm (y/n)"

"it's nice to meet you"

"likewise"

the entire ride, you felt at some peace finally conversing with someone who understood english,

 after a 30 minute drive, you had arrived at your destination.

feeling a sad departure from this mellow woman, who turned out to be 19 seeking to make some pocket money in the summer, she was one of the first people that you had grown connected with throughout this ride.

"elena, though it was a short time, thank you for keeping company"

you present her with a warm smile as she unlocks the door for you. you exit the taxi, clasping at your phone.

"here, give me your phone."

you softly planted it in elena's hand. you were perplexed about why she showed you your home screen until you realized you had a password.

you enter your password, giving it back to her. she did a bit of clicking and you could see her hands typing something in before returning the phone back to you.

"that's my instagram, stay in contact with me alright?"

you felt the sides of your lips curve into a slight smile. you dragged her into a soft hug.

"thank you elena"

she visibly hesitant before easing into the hug. she softly rubbed your back.

"i have to go, i might get fired if i stay here too long"

you bided her a fare-well. thirty minutes was an extended time to get a know a person.

and that was the first friend you met in france.

second challenge

checking into your hotel wasn't as difficult. most people could speak english and besides the uncanny looks that you received from the clerk, check-in was pretty smooth.

"here you are mademoiselle" the bellman lowers your suitcase in front of your hotel door.

"merci beaucoup,"  you smile and he returns the gesture before leaving you.

you look down in your hand where you are grasping the card tightly. you scan the card against the door meter and it flickers twice. 

red, green

the door clicks before you push on it and reveal your hotel room.

at first glance, your mouth dropped.

the hotel room seemed better than it did on the online photographs which was a rare possibility.

though it was a small room, it was renovated beautifully.

overhead the king-sized bed, there was an extensive painting of the eiffel tower. a blue chair that held a place directly by the bed along with a little wooden table.

the hotel was fine but you definitely weren't

"(y/n) shut down in,"

"3"

"2"

"1"

before thinking, you throw yourself on the bed having the jet-lag kicking in. the bag offers a 'thump' sound as it connects with the ground.

'ouch that hurt'

you fish through your pocket, pulling out your phone. it was hardly twelve pm and you were already fatigued.

what was your strategy? you were in france for two days and you don't have a plan to do anything.

first things first, you needed to sort out this jet-lag.

 1) taking a shower

showers are always a great way to awaken and could shake you from this daze. you endured a scream as your water turned to be ice cold. someone must be utilizing the hot water. that shower unmistakably woke you up

2) skincare

after getting out of the shower, skincare was the secondary way to wake up. cleansing with toner, dropping essence into the skin, and implementing a nice coat of moisturizer to lock-in.

3) fueling with food

food can beat anybody out of slumber if they're fueled with enthusiasm but you didn't have any food on you? that indicates it's time to go out and explore france.

unfastening up your suitcase, you drabble on what you can wear.

reconciling with a simple pair of denim shorts and a light pink tank top, you catch a fast mirror selfie.

being content with the ultimate product, you smile to yourself.

"phone, key, wallet," you whispered, securing the thoughts of having everything. 

everything was arranged to go and it was time to tour paris.

third challenge 

cruising through paris would be by notably the toughest challenge while you were here.

you had your phone to navigate solely with wifi and you couldn't be that favorable to be able to meet people who could speak english all the time. 

you had entered a small restaurant, where you worked to communicate with people in defective french but they moderately understood what you wanted.

after that fiasco trying to order a chicken frricassee, you were able to appreciate your time there along with sending a picture to sunoo who reacted with,

"can that be the souvenir you bring back to me TT?"

you chuckled at the message, knowing typical sunoo, and finished up eating.

eating wasn't the one exclusive thing available in france. there were various activities but you were too afraid to venture any future for the hotel. getting lost too was easy.

that being said, eating after eating all you could do was roam around the city. it was around 2pm and you could spot a diverse crowd of people.

you could see kids. in uniforms that just got out of school or a cute couple that was experiencing their date.

you slightly squint and cover your eyes as the sun is at its highest point.

yes, paris was lovely and you would prefer to travel more but but you didn’ toriginally have a plan

for a couple of hours, you completed wandering around the area where your hotel is. you wished at moments like this that you would have jungwon, sunoo's friend, with you to help navigate you.

 jungwon was also a friend you guys met in middle school but he went to your school. very mature for his age and great at preparation.

before you knew it, the sun had died down and it was time to retreat to the hotel.

'ah right! elena told me to look out at the eiffel tower as it gets darker'

you softly tread back to your hotel, observing the blisters at the back of your foot.

you could clearly sense the entire day of walking take a toll on your body.

you scan your key card and fling your bag to the floor as soon as you get inside. you open up your suitcase to change into suitable sleeping clothes.

you briskly cleansed your face and tied your hair back.

you had approached the balcony, guessing how to cautiously open the glass door.

you gradually shift the handle to the right and the door made a scanty creek. you gingerly put more stress on it, opening the balcony wide.

a distinct gasp could be heard from you.

subsequently taking a step onto your balcony, the frail breeze made you quiver in the long black tee that adorned your top half and the sweatpants that settled on your waist.

the balcony was small, barely able to move besides staying still.

you had peered to your right, glancing at the eiffel tower.

elena was correct. the eiffel tower was breath-taking at night. for the first time when landing in france, you could feel in harmony. below you was a crowded street.

it was only 8 pm yet you could feel your eyes droop as opposed to the bouncy pair of kids that ran through the moobs of people.

the radiant yellowish glow of the eiffel tower was able to save you from dozing off. you softly hum 'fly me to the moon,'

'fly me to the moon,' didn't have significance, it felt appropriate in the second.

you hadn't regarded it but a figure had gently peeked out of the other balcony, attentively listening to the silky melody that you were humming.

"nice song"

a voice interrupts and your humming had come to a halt, eyes widened.

you had turned to the origin of the voice and discovered the culprit

the balcony alongside you.

"thank you"

you glanced over, granting him a slight smile before he returns it.

"new to paris?"

he questioned, now you guys facing each other.

"yeah, just arrived this morning, and you?"

you asked before he softly smiles.

"not really, i've been here multiple times but the feeling is something i'll get used too."

you hum as a response

"how did you know to speak english to me? do i really act like a foriegner?"

you were growing more drowsy but this stranger was fascinating. who else could say they met someone and talked to them from a balcony romance?

"english song, random guess"

you nodded your head, not certain if he could see you but that was all you could muster up.

there grows stillness beside the bustling street below until the stranger breaks it.

"i know this sounds weird but since you're new here, would you like to go out with me tomorrow to travel the city?"

that question felt like ice water was just splashed onto your face. the proposal startled you. 

the stranger didn't appear like a bad person. been to paris varied times, can acknowledge good music and good at conversation.

as much as this stranger flatter you, how could you trust him?

"as much as i would love to, how do i know that you're not trying to kidnap me, even worse, kill me?"

he stifles a laugh.

"hey knock it off, this is a very serious question, balcony boy"

you snicker, desiring to know the answer than anticipated.

"i promise you that i won't try to kidnap OR kill you. i'm just offering and you can even pat me down before we go out together."

this was by far one of the most peculiar offers you had received but this was THE stranger offer you came to france seeking.

you know sunoo would not advocate for numerous reasons and you can hear his voice already 

"number one, dangerous"

"number two, dangerous!"

"number three, DANGEROUS!"

but sunoo isn't here right now. you chose to grab the opportunity. france had provided you luck today.

"alright then"

a moment of silence goes by before you hear him clearing his throat.

"you're serious right?"

he glances at you and your eyes lock. though you can't see that well due to the absence of light, you nod.

the eiffel tower gave you enough light that you could make our curious eyes, tall nose, fair skin that radiated in the soft lighting, and full lips that were curved into a smile

"i'll see you at the lobby at eight,"

next morning

to say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. you agreed to a stranger who claimed to know paris like the back of his palm. you met him off your balcony and now you were agreeing to go a date with him? 

"you must be out of your mind!" sunoo exclaimed through the phone.

"well yes i must have been at 8 pm last night when fatigue was hitting the hardest but how can i say no now?"

"i don't know maybe, I DON'T KNOW YOU STRANGER DANGER?" sunoo shouts

and like you foretold last night, sunoo was not a big supporter of this idea. over the course of fifteen minutes, you had been continuously scolded by him.

you cringe, " sunoo, i promise that i'll be fine. i just need you to help me pick out an outfit"

sunoo rolls his eyes, "what are your options?"

though sunoo wasn't supportive of this, he couldn't let you go on a date without style.

you held up two choices; a blue floral dress that settled to your mid-thigh and a pink tennis skirt with a white cami shirt.

"well do we like this guy or do we like LIKE this guy?" sunoo questioned.

"what- well i literally met him last night? so i don't even like him, we're just going out for this one day since he offered"

"uh-huh, then the blue floral dress, it's hot there right?" sunoo says

"super hot," you groan.

you glance at the time, 7:00 am.

"i have to start getting ready sunoo, i'll update you later alright?" you smile

"alright, try not to get killed but have fun too! love you"

"love you too," you say back before hanging up.

you quickly hop in the shower and make sure to not take too long.

doing skincare, putting on the outfit, and spraying a little bit of perfume, you are ready to head out the door.

one last check to make sure you have all the things.

7:58 am

you quickly head down to see several people in the lobby.

a bellman, a pair of teenage girls who seemed like they were dragged here, a couple around the mid-40s trying to check-in, and a teenage boy that rested on one of the lobby seats.

it was evident who the balcony boy was but you just called out to be safe.

"balcony boy," you say.

the teenage boy that was seated turns around before flashing you a smile. 

"miss singer,"

you airly chuckle at the nickname.

observing him in person was a lot different. you could see his long body proportion, bright eyes, sharp jawline, with fair skin that complimented his rich brown hair.

a distinct experience from seeing him on the balcony.

"i'm (y/n)! and you?" you ask

"i'm lee heeseung"