#that hug is the bane of my existence NEVER AGAIN

[myreia]

— vi. the last

They stay. They go. Ebbs and flows, as certain as the tide that will take his ship to sea. Their responsibilities take them in different directions. This is the way it has always been, and in truth, they prefer it. Independent to a fault, wanderers in answer to different calls. But the time apart makes the time together all the more sweeter. Goodbye for now does not mean goodbye forever.   Till next we meet.

[awxcoffeexno]

ain't gon' ever deserve you

mutant!loganhowlett x human!reader one shot

fic masterlist | nsfw claw worship

summary: logan has a nightmare and hurts you by accident - or - the one where you worship his claws the way they deserve.

content: mostly family-friendly claw worship. logan believes in the animal accusations but reader fixes it. reader is human, logan and reader have an established and v loving relationship, lots of reassurance and comforting for logan.

warnings: logan has nightmares, mentions of blood, logan self-hate, family-friendly knife play??????.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: listen, claw worship has been on my mind for a looooooong time. I'm too chicken to put up any of my nsfw writing yet so here's an sfw version with affirmations for poor baby lo-lo. also this is super inspired by logan and kayla's relationship and even uses some quotes from them.

you're deep asleep, dreaming of everything and nothing when you feel the sudden sharp sting in your arm.

eyes flying open, you open your mouth to hiss in pain but logan's lips are at your ear, snarling and grunting in his sleep again.

you look down to find his claws out, the metal tips digging into your arm. you exhale sharply, watching the warm blood seep down your arm and onto the new white sheets.

"no! n– no!" he growls, and you're forced to bite your lip as you try to pull away from his vice grip. when that doesn't work, you sink your nails into his arm.

"logan–"

"victor, NO!" he screams and sits up, yanking his claws from your arm and stabbing at the air in front of him.

victor creed. logan's brother and the bane of his existence. victor who haunts his dreams every single night, victor whose name you can never forget, victor who is now the reason logan's hurt you.

you sit up with him, aching for him, wrapping your arms around his torso. the burning pain in your arm an afterthought, you hear him swallow and gently let out a breath. he's sticky with sweat and the dry radiator air in the room isn't helping, the moon glowing through your glass walls, creating a halo around his head.

"nightmare." you state, letting him catch his breath and take in his surroundings.

he nods even though what you said wasn't a question but a statement. he twists around and pulls you into his lap, hugging you like he does near every night – chin tucked into your shoulder, arms wrapped all the way around your torso. he smells of soap and cigar smoke and the faintest hint of your shampoo. you smile to yourself and press a kiss to his hair.

"you're so cute." you mutter and a small smile spreads across his lips.

"cute?" he repeats, amused. "that's new." he pulls you closer, further down his lap and you can feel his heartbeat start to steady again.

"you used my shampoo again, and don't you deny it this time."

he scowls at you but lets you kiss him anyway. "reminds me of you," he sighs when he realises you won't stop until he admits it.

"but i'm right here," you giggle, running your thumb over the shell of his ear.

he opens his mouth to explain further but that's when he smells it. the blood he's drawn from your arm in his nightmare-fuelled anger at victor. his jaw tightens as he looks for the source of blood, finding three uniform slices on the outside of your forearm.

"no," he gasps, a thousand emotions crossing his eyes.

you try to wiggle your arm out of his grip, the blood running down your arm now. "hey... i'm okay."

"like fuck you are," he snarls, angry at himself.

how could he have possibly hurt you?! was this a thing now?? was he a danger to you even in his sleep?! god, he'll have to put you to sleep and then figure out a way to declaw himself. maybe if he just slices the back of his palms open–

"james..." you break him out of his thoughts, hand on his cheek. "baby, i'm okay. really. it looks worse than it feels."

"i'm going to rip these out." he whispers, holding his fists up, the back of his palms facing you. his words are as much a promise to you as a command to himself.

you grab his fists and glare at him. he blinks at your expression, looking at you over his hands.

"don't you dare say anything of the sort. these are a gift."

"a gift," he scoffs, "you can return a gift."

"these are a gift," you repeat sternly. "and i will not let you do anything to them."

he opens his mouth to protest but you aren't done. how dare he even think of hurting himself, of declawing himself when you love his claws as much as you love every last part of him.

you run your fingers over the back of his palms and whisper, "take them out."

"sweetheart..."

"take them out, my love" you repeat, kissing his knuckles because you know it hurts every time he does.

he carefully and very very slowly bares them and you look at him from between the blades.

not breaking eye contact, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the base of the middle claw on his right hand. you catch him shuddering and your eyes widen in surprise.

"you felt that?"

you can see him redden even in the dark. "'course i did," he grunts.

"what does it feel like?" you ask, fascinated. everyday you learn something new about him and it never fails to delight you.

you kiss the base of another claw on the other hand and see him inhale sharply.

he groans deeply, humming to come up with the right words. "like... you're stroking every nerve in me to life."

that makes you sit up on your haunches and wrap your fingers around his wrists. he freezes, bracing himself to yank the claws back in the second he thinks you might hurt yourself on the sharp ends. you carefully lick along the length of the claw between his pinky and ring finger on his right hand, making him exhale shakily.

"tryna kill me, sugar?" he says through gritted teeth, every muscle in his body tense.

"trying to show you how much i love your claws, lo. even if they hurt sometimes."

you loop your right hand between both of his, gently pressing the tip of your thumb against the sharp end of a claw. you run your finger up the blade, making him whine in protest as you draw blood.

his eyes implore you, pleading, but you simply take your hand up to his mouth, pressing your bleeding thumb against his lips. he relents, sucking it into his warm mouth and licking it clean.

"logan?" you whisper and he hums around your thumb.

despite the heat in your core, pooling between your legs, you need him to hear this. you'll have time to fulfil that need later.

"every part of you means everything to me. but your claws, especially your claws, have the most special place in my heart. they protect me. they make you feel good. and most of all, they're fucking cool."

and that finally makes him crack a smile again.

"y'think so?"

"mhmm."

"c'mere." he says finally, pulling his claws back in and tugging you back into his lap.

he makes you straddle him and kisses you warmly. he looks into your eyes with such fondness, it squeezes your heart. carefully he pulls his first claw out on his right hand and uses it to gently push your hair out of your eyes. your eyes flutter shut in response, leaning into his metal touch.

he brushes the back of the claw across your cheek and your lips part prettily for him. the air doesn't feel so thick anymore, the quiet humming of the refrigerator in the kitchen not overwhelming him the way it was when he snapped awake.

ever so carefully, pushing his own boundaries, he turns his wrist and pushes the flat of his claw onto your tongue. it's warm and tastes of him, salty and musky and like metal.

"that okay for you, pretty girl?" he mumbles and you can hear the strain in his voice. he's terrified but he so badly wants to be brave for you.

you wrap your lips around the claws and suck softly in response, drawing a groan of pleasure from him.

he shudders beneath you, every inch of him tense and trembling with restraint. you slide your tongue along the metal, tracing the edge of his claw with reverence, savoring the taste of him.

logan’s breath catches in his throat, and you feel the warmth of his exhale ghost across your face. his other hand, free of the adamantium blades, finds its way to your waist, gripping you tightly.

"god," he breathes out, voice rough and filled with a raw vulnerability you hear only at night. "you have no idea what you do to me."

you slowly release his claw from your mouth, letting it slide out with a deliberate slowness that has him biting back another groan. his eyes are locked on you, dark with need.

you reach up, cupping his face with your now clean thumb, and brush your lips against his in a featherlight kiss. "i think i do," you whisper against his mouth. "i want you to feel how much i love every part of you, logan. even the parts that scare you."

his claws retract with a soft snikt, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

"you're something else, darlin'," he murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. you can feel the smile playing on his lips. "you make me feel... whole."

you nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. "and you make me feel safe," you reply, closing your eyes and letting the furnace heart of his presence envelop you. "always."

you feel his grip tighten, his hand trembling slightly against your waist. he's always been the warrior, the weapon, the animal, but here in your arms, he's just logan, just a man who’s been through more pain than anyone should endure.

"people see the claws and think i’m nothing but a beast," he murmurs, his voice thick with self-doubt. "like i’m more metal than man. they look at me and all they see is the damage i can do."

you pull back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands framing his face. he tries to look away, but you won’t let him. you press a soft kiss to his brow, then his cheek, and finally, to the corner of his mouth.

"they don’t make you an animal," you whisper, your voice even and filled with conviction. "they make you strong. they’re not just weapons, they’re part of what makes you you."

his breath hitches at your words, and you feel him struggle against the years of conditioning, the years of being told that he’s nothing more than a killing machine. but you won’t let those words hold power over him anymore.

you reach down, gently taking his right hand in yours. with care, you press a kiss to each knuckle, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips. then, you look up at him and slowly, deliberately, coax his claws out again.

you run your fingers lightly over the metal, tracing the curves and edges with the same care you’d give to a delicate piece of art.

logan watches you, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, something like awe. "you don’t see me like everyone else does," he says, almost to himself.

"no," you agree, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of one of his claws. "i see you, logan. the real you. and what i see is a man who’s fought for so long to protect the people he loves, even when it’s cost him everything. your claws, they’re not just about hurting or fighting. they’re about protecting. they’re about survival. and they’re about who you have been for so long."

his chest rises and falls with each breath, the tension slowly easing from his body as your words sink in. for once, he doesn’t feel like an animal. he feels like a man, just a man. and it's nice.

"besides," you say, tone lightening. "so you really think I'm such a baby i can't handle three little cuts?"

you both know you're underplaying it and though he would never admit it in the day, the moonlight across his face betrays his grateful expression. it's easier to believe that he hasn't hurt you too much when you're saying it yourself.

you lower his hand, resting it against your chest, over your heart.

he swallows hard, holding you as if he’s afraid to let go. "ain't gon' ever deserve you," he whispers, his voice thick.

"you deserve everything," you murmur back, holding him just as tightly. "and i’m going to keep reminding you of that, every day."

for a moment, he’s silent, just holding you close. then, in a voice that’s barely more than a whisper, he says, "you almost make me feel human, darlin’."

you pull back just enough to kiss him again, only because you know he'd much rather feel than hear. your kiss is slow and tender, letting him feel the truth in your touch.

he doesn’t say anything more, but the way he kisses you back, the way he holds you, tells you everything you need to know.

he'll be okay. you'll make him okay. you gently push him to lie down and rest your head on his chest.

you love him, you love how he wants so badly to believe you, and most of all, you fucking love his claws.

--

this stemmed from a very nsfw thought™ but here we are, all warm and fuzzy. a mostly non-angsty fic is new for me!!

hope you liked this x

love, d <3

--

edit: i wrote an nsfw claw worship fic too 🤠🤝🏽 >> unholy

[back2bluesidex]

Desire - JJK (18+)

Pairing: CEO! Jungkook X Assistant! reader

Theme: PWP, SMUT [Minors are NOT allowed!!]

Summary: Jungkook hates you, you hate Jungkook but sometimes desire is more important than hatred.

Wordcount: 2201

Warnings: Infidelity, Jungkook cheats on his girlfriend with the reader, Jungkook is a douche, unprotected sex (wrap it, y'all), creampie, sex on a bathroom counter, kinda enemies to lovers (?). NSFW!!

***************

Jungkook is the epitome of perfection.

Perfect face, perfect body, perfect grades, perfect life and now a perfect position in his perfect company. And maybe that is what makes him imperfect, that he is way too perfect to feel more like a human and less like a robot.

Only thing to make him feel like a human is..... hating you. 

What he hates about you is how you (too) are so perfect yet so human!

You have a perfect face, perfect body, perfect smile, perfect performance, perfect timing, perfect organization skills and perfect bonding with most of the employees. Seemingly no one hates you (apart from Jungkook obviously) and that irks him. When you first joined his company as his personal assistant, most of his employees talked about you behind your back. Some of them called you an opportunist, some called you a slut because unlike others you did not have to appear for an interview. You got in with Jungkook’s friend, Jimin’s recommendation but then within a few weeks, everyone turned into well-wishers. And Jungkook still questions himself, “how?”.

He knows his employees call him arrogant bastard, rude jerk bla bla bla as he has never done anything to be friendly with them, not that he wants to but still it irks him that they like you more than they like him. And that makes him hate you even more.

He would burden you with work after work and you would still manage to complete everything within time. He would scold you with every little inconvenience you made, you would still smile at him. He would cancel your leaves at the last minute, and you would craft a perfect email explaining why it is not justified while mentioning every possible employee rule and law. You would leave him gaping for words to type and he would fail miserably. What the fuck!?

But what Jungkook hates the most about you is that you crawl in the back of his head, even when he is with his girlfriend, and stay there for an unhealthy amount of time. He hates you because you do unexplainable things to him and yet pretend not to know anything. 

It’s the weekend and Jungkook is finally relieved. He is out with his girlfriend and friends to a bar downtown, in the hopes of drinking down your thoughts. Finally a day, when you won’t be around him for nine fucking hours. Is this what peace is? 

However, soon it comes to an end when Jimin declares that he has invited you to join them. Jungkook almost chokes on his drink. 

“What? Why?” he screams almost. 

“Why not?  Y/N is my friend and your PA. She's not a total stranger. What’s so wrong with inviting her?” Jimin asks, confusion dripping through his voice. 

“Nothing.” Jungkook replies. He doesn’t know the answer. There is certainly nothing wrong with inviting you. It’s just the fact that he doesn’t like you and he can’t tell this to his friends. Because again he has no answer why he hates you so much. 

“Oh, here!” Jimin shouts, grabbing everyone’s attention. He waves his hands towards someone and Jungkook knows the bane of his existence has arrived.  

He curses under his breath when you come into his view. As he turns his head following Jimin’s line of sight, he sees you, looking like a walking sin. The person who always conceals herself behind those button-up dress shirts and dress pants, is now wearing a bodycon black dress with spaghetti straps. The dress hugs all of your curves perfectly, making Jungkook want to trace his hands all over your body. And the amount of cleavage you are showing, god! He wants to bury his head into tha- Wait! What!? What is he thinking? You are his assistant! And his girlfriend is right here beside him! What the hell is this feeling? It is the alcohol right? He hates you right? 

He gulps down the rest of his whiskey and pours another peg as you greet everyone present there. 

“Hello, Mr. Jeon. Hi, Eun-bi.” You greet Jungkook and his girlfriend while sitting down beside Jimin. Jungkook lifts up his eyes from the glass to take a look at you. Fuck! You look so beautiful. You look so much better with your hair loose than you do in those low buns. He sucks in a breath and he keeps on checking you out shamelessly. He doesn’t care if his girlfriend catches him. 

The night flows well as you all bitch about board members, stakeholders and other boring stuff just as normal adults. You engage in some girly conversations with Eun-bi from time to time. As the girl often visits Jungkook in his office, you know her well. Jungkook almost scoffs, seeing you being so friendly with her. You should be jealous of her. She has something you don’t. You don’t have Jungkook. But you clearly don’t care. You don’t want Jungkook, even when he wants you. 

Jungkook’s grips on the glass go tighter. 

“Your perfume is so nice. What is it, may I ask?” You ask eun-bi. She giggles. 

“I know right. It-” Jungkook cuts Eun-bi off.

“Victoria’s secret. Something you can’t afford.” Jungkook scoffs, winding a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder. 

You chuckle dryly but don’t say anything. At this point, you are accustomed to this douchebag behaviour of your boss. 

“I am sure she can. She works hard to get paid. I am certain she can own luxury items if she wants.” Jimin butt-in into the conversation. You almost flinch to his voice next to you, rather close to you. 

When you turn your head, your face stays inches away from Jimin’s as he gives you one of his eye-smiles. You smile back, not minding the proximity you two are in. One of Jimin’s hands reaches for your thigh and stays there. 

Jungkook’s eyes follow every of your and Jimin’s actions and he gradually starts seeing red. 

“Do you think they are dating?” Eun-bi whispers in Jungkook’s ear. His eyes move towards Jimin’s arm, which clearly hints that his palm is resting on your thigh or maybe somewhere more intimate. 

“I don’t know.” he grits through his teeth. 

Some more drinks and Jimin’s flirtatious comments later, you get up from your seat and head towards the washroom. 

Gladly, it is vacant here. You need to scream. You need to let out the suppressed anger that is instigated by your one and only boss, Jeon Jungkook. Even though you smiled through his jab, even though Jimin defended you, it’s not enough. You need to punch that guy. You want to punch him square in his handsome face to relieve some of your frustration. He treats you like trash at work, he is rude and arrogant and he seems to hate you and you don’t know why. What you know is that each of his abrupt behaviour sends a vibration directly to your clit. 

When days are rough, or more likely, when he makes your day rough, you reach home, go for a hot shower and chase your high, imagining Jungkook. You know it’s not right but you don’t care. He puts you through hell enough for you to care. 

Today it’s different. Today he decided to humiliate you in front of a group of people and not inside closed doors. Today you are not aroused but you are angry. You breathe heavily for calming yourself down. 

“Are you fucking Jimin?” A voice so familiar says from behind. 

“What the-” You turn your head to see Jungkook locking the door of the “women's” toilet. 

“What are you doing here, Mr. Jeon? This is not men's washroom.” Your reply escapes through gritted teeth. 

“Answer what I asked! Was he touching your cunt under the table?” Jungkook takes steps towards the bathroom counter, where you are standing. 

“What the hell, Mr. Jeon? Mind your language.” You almost scream as you look up to him. Now he stands infront of you tall and proud. His dress shirt is unbuttoned enough to give you a view of his chest. His clear bulge pokes through his tight skinny jeans. You suck in a breath, trying not to make it obvious that his appearance has effects on you. 

“Are. You. Fucking. Jimin?” he asks again. His eyes are filled with fury you have never seen before. 

“None of your busine-” You try to say but you get interrupted as he grabs the back of your head and slams his lips on yours. 

The kiss is harsh, heated and hungry. You don’t kiss back immediately but then you feel his hand gripping your ass and you give in to the temptation. The very last bit of rationality left your body when you feel his tongue inside your mouth tasting each inch of you. 

In the back of your head you know it’s not right. Jungkook has a girlfriend and she is sitting just outside. He is cheating on her with you, which makes you a homewrecker but at the same time you can’t deny the hot feeling you have for this infuriating obnoxious man. And in this war of rationality and desire, you let your desire win this time. 

Jungkook lifts you up and sits you down on the bathroom counter without breaking the kiss. 

He bites down on our lower lip before detaching his lips from yours and aiming for your neck this time. He sucks and nibbles hard. Hard enough to leave bruises for everyone to see. 

“You dressed like a slut to impress Jimin. Didn’t you?” he utters between his sucking sessions, 

“You want him you take you home and fuck your little cunt? Huh?” one of his hands grips your thigh harshly and then dips between them to touch where you need him the most. 

His fingers hover over your clothed cunt as he tries to feel your wetness. And he understands that you are not that aroused yet. You let out a little whimper feeling his fingertips brushing through your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Oh. so he wasn’t finger-fucking you under the table?” Jungkook says, finally removing his face from your neck and looking directly in your eyes. His fingers have a mind of their own as they push your underwear to the side and glide up and down on your folds. You hiss. 

“Even if he did… there is nothing for you to care about, Jungkook.” You reply gripping on his arm tightly, trying not to moan out loud as two of his fingers slide in your hole while his thumb draws circles on your clit. 

He pushes his fingers further in your cunt and curls them to hit you on a specific place. You wonder how he knows your body so well when it’s the first time he has ever touched you? 

“I don’t know, Y/N! You tell me? Why do I hate you so much? Yet why does my blood boil when someone is touching you?” he seethes through gritted teeth while continuing abusing your cunt with his fingers. 

‘Fuck! You are such a douchebag but you know how to use your fingers right.” you reply and he chuckles darkly at your response.

“I know how to use my cock too.” he replies. 

“Then are you waiting for your girlfriend to see us? Fuck me already!!” you semi-scream. 

“You want me to dig into your cunt? With my cock?” Jungkook says as he steps away for a minute to unbuckle his belt and pull out his dick. 

You stare down at him with hooded eyes, silently praising the length and girth of his cock. 

He comes closer and puts his hand under your dress to pull down your underwear. Without wasting any time he puts his dick into you. It enters your sloppy cunt without any hindrance.  

“Fuck!” you both say at the same time. He gives you some time to adjust before he starts moving. Then he starts pounding into you and oh boy! His pace is inhumane! 

You grip his arms while he grabs your waist tightly to support his speed. He rutts rapidly into you and you soon feel your heat building. You start squeezing his shaft and his dick starts twitching. 

“Where do I cum?” Jungkook says, being breathless. 

“I am on pills.” You reply. Jungkook fills you in with his cum just as your sentence ends. 

He drops his head in the crook of your neck as both of you try to catch your breath. 

“This should never happen again.” you say, panting hard. 

“We will see about th-” Jungkook gets interrupted with a knock on the door. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Eun-bi shouts from outside. Guilt and shame creeps into you as you decipher what you just did. You look up to see Jungkook having no hint of remorse. 

“I will hide inside a stall for now. Go out, tell them that you are feeling sick, go home with Jimin if he insists on dropping you and text me as soon as he leaves you alone.” He says in a breath before he disappears inside a stall. And you realize the mess you have got yourself into. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ scenarios | dating billy

♡ fandoms; The Boys

♡ characters; Billy Butcher

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; explicit sexual content

♡ notes; he’s the bane of my existence + love of my life tbh

reader isss implied to be working with Billy and in my mind a supe but i made it ambiguous since i didn’t write a meeting section :v but i love the idea of Billy falling for a supe so much

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

I. Kisses/ PDA

> he doesn’t like PDA…or at least that’s what he claims

> Frenchie and Marv give him shit- and Hughie is so supportive it makes him angrier than the others giving him shit

> but tbh they’re all happy to see him happy, and he knows that somewhere under that thick skull off his

> so when you give him a kiss or hold his hand or hug him in the base he grumbles, but he never pushes you away or actually complains

> and sometimes he’ll haphazardly pull you against him without saying a word, cheeks a bit pink as he mumbles something into your hair

> usually a ‘good job’ if it fits the occasion, otherwise a comment about how his coworkers are idiots

> now undercover, it’s a different story

> everyone is a potential threat then- and even worse, everyone is potentially going to bother you

> if he even gets a whiff of someone looking you over he’s got an arm around your waist and a hand not so subtly on his holster

> if you want to get any actual surveillance done you have to shoo him away so he doesn’t scare anyone off

> and even then he’s checking in way more often than he needs to

> it’s hard to get mad at, because it’s sweet in his stubborn, assholeish way

> and if you don’t care about surveillance it’s easy to get him riled by playing into it

> and then he’ll kiss you hard right in front of whatever chucklefuck was eying you

> “hope he’s enjoying the bleedin’ view”

> he’s a big cuddler when you’re alone- another thing he’d never admit

> but he loves when you snuggle up with your head on his chest, listening to his heart and nearly dozing while he goes through files

> or when you’re exhausted on the van ride home and make sure no one is paying attention as you hold with his hand in the front seat, rubbing his probably bloodied knuckles and pressing soft kisses them

> he likes your little late night rendezvous the best, though

> you’re both bad at sleeping, so most nights in the base he’ll find you in the kitchen near midnight brewing chai

> you’ll be sitting on the counter in one of his shirts and smile brightly despite the bags under your eyes

> and then when he comes over and puts a hand on either side of you, you trap him in your legs

> the kisses are sometimes heated, sometimes chaste

> but either way you enjoy the tea, and spend the rest of the restless night together

II. Sharing a bed

> when you’re all living in hiding, space is tight under the pawnshop

> you’ve both got shitty little twin beds, and he’s always complaining about space

> but the nights are getting cold and the heater barely works, so you hatch your evil scheme

> evil scheme might get giving it too much credit. like way too much

> all you plan on is asking to snuggle and never leaving his bed

> but he’s taking forever to get whatever he’s doing done, and you’re tired

> no biggie, you’ll just crawl in and wait for him so you can ask

> the next thing you know it’s two a.m. and he’s nudging you

> “oi. who said you could be in here?”

> you whine and give him the biggest pout, eyes all hazy from sleep

> and not wearing all that much either

> he sighs but you can hear the smile in his voice “c’mon then love.”

> before you can scooch over he’s pulling you on top of him completely, making you feel tiny on his broad chest

> he tried not to seem too delighted when you’re there again the next night

III. Let’s get kinky

> listen. i swear i don’t think every character has a daddy kink. just all the ones i’m super attached to

> but he canonically referred to himself as daddy and that’s not leaving my brain anytime soon. so.

> he refers to you as so many sweet nicknames- and he likes to pair them with a healthy mix of degradation and praise

> “you’re a filthy fuckin’ whore aren’t yah sweetheart?”

> his default is rough. he’s a frustrated man, and he’s been pent up for a while now

> but you can take it. probably.

> he likes choking. and spanking, he loves when you’re a brat and he can bend you over his knee

> mostly because then he can finger fuck you right then and there when he’s done and make you a complete mess

> if you wear makeup he thinks it’s twice as nice with your lipstick smudged and mascara running down your cheeks

> and you look prettiest to him on your knees, already a bit teary and sucking on his fingers until you’ve earned the real thing

> he wants to breed you so bad it makes him look stupid. (tbh not literally, even if it is possible, but god the dirty talk is so good that it doesn’t matter)

> his favorite position is reverse cowgirl- he loves seeing you whine and slowly ease yourself onto him

> and to me- he’s an ass man lmao, he loves watching it as you bounce on his cock

[professional-yapper]

Proximity pt. 4

Neteyam x Olangi! Reader

Warnings: fluff, misunderstanding and lack of communication, making out up, reader is lowkey the bane of my existence

"We need to talk," you began bluntly as you entered your hut, finding Neteyam sitting rather dejectedly on the floor. "Wha- how long have you been there? Were you waiting for me?"

Neteyam nodded, unfolding long limbs and standing up to meet your eyes. You noticed he was gripping his loincloth again, like he had when he first met you. "Did I do something wrong? Whatever it was, I'm sorry. I never meant to upset you, you must understand that."

You exhaled shakily, taking another step into the hut, bringing you closer to him. "No. Lo'ak explained it to me. The- the cultural differences."

Neteyam tilted his head, looking almost amused by his brother's involvement. "Lo'ak did?"

"Mhm," you confirmed. "I did not- my people are not permitted to do what we did with anyone but our mate. We are not mated yet. I brought shame to my family by letting you kiss me."

"Oh." Neteyam's eyes grew soft with understanding. "I'm sorry. Truly. I should have known better. You just-" He stopped, cutting himself off, a flush spreading across his face, turning his head away from you.

Your heart stirred in your chest at the sight. "I just what?" you prompted, reaching out, gripping his upper arms and forcing him to look at you.

Neteyam huffed out a little laugh, letting his head drop forward so his face was inches from yours, turning his hands to cup your elbows, running his thumbs over your skin delicately. "You just looked so good. Like you were made to be here, standing in the home I made for you, all warm and golden in the midday sunlight, looking so peaceful for once. I didn't think twice."

You smiled. "Yeah?"

"I don't regret it," he added seriously. "The only thing I regret is upsetting you and making you think I did not want to see you. You are all I want to see, paskalin. The first thing I see when I wake up and the last thing I see when i go to sleep." His voice was trembling a little as he spoke, grip growing tight on your elbows like he was trying to steady himself.

"I know this union is arranged, but-"

"I want this," you interrupted, voice firm and steady, sliding your hands up his arms to cup his face. "I want you."

Neteyam sucked in a breath, eyes darting to your lips ever so briefly. But he made no love to kiss you, and you didn't know if you were disappointed or not. "I cannot wait," he said in a low voice.

You knew what he meant. Couldn't wait for the night you two would mate in the eyes of Eywa. It made your heart beat faster just to see how eager he was for you.

"I can," you said, smiling irresistibly, wanting to tease him just s little now it was all out in the open and you had nothing to fear anymore. "I will have you for the rest of my life. There is no rush."

Neteyam didn't seem to share your feelings, instead making a low, defeated rumbling noise in the back of his throat and releasing your elbows.

Your heart rate spiked again, this time out of anxiety as he let you go, wondering if you shouldn't have teased him.

But then he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and the other around your middle, pulling you into his chest, pressing his nose into your hair and breathing you in deeply.

His tail coiled around your calf, and you wished you could return the gesture, but settled for hugging him back, wrapping your arms around him and taking comfort in the steady rise and fall of his chest.

"This will be a happy union," Neteyam muttered into your hair, a note of steel in his voice. "Maybe this love will not last, but I want us to be happy. I swear it to you now, paskalin. I will make you happy."

You didn't have the words to respond to that, instead pressing your forehead to his shoulder.

"Do you trust me to make you happy, paskalin?" Neteyam asked lowly, stroking one hand up and down your back.

"I trust you, ma Neteyam." Your voice was softer than you had ever allowed it to be.

He shivered at the use of 'ma' and held you tighter, like he was trying to envelop you with his body. "I cannot wait," he repeated.

This time, you agreed with him. If he shivered at a mere affectionate term of possession, you couldn't imagine what other reactions he might have. "Neither can I."

Finished this in bed half asleep and it has not been proofread whatsoever I don't believe in proofreading (fun fact!) Also very short for which I apologise 🤧

Enjoy!

Taglist: @luvv4j4ybe11 @ikeyniofthetayrangi @rivatar @lunamochii @mochamochimoch1015 @dutifullyannoyingfox @oakbuggy @abcm18339 @atokirina-tsuki

Part Five >

[fluentmoviequoter]

Special Edition

Day 4 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Jason Todd x vigilante!fem!reader

Summary: Jason Todd doesn't like you. He does like Jane Austen, though.

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Warnings: angst, arguments, brief description of injuries, fluff, Pride and Prejudice quotes. reader is a vigilante!

A/N: Sorry this is late; thank you for being patient and the encouraging messages!! This is my first Jason Todd fic and I am so excited because I'm madly in love with him. He may be OOC, but I didn't specify which version so you can imagine whichever Jason you want! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Masterlist | DC Comics Masterlist | Request Info

You are the bane of Jason Todd’s existence. He’s never said it outright, but he shows you constantly that he doesn’t like you, trust you, and certainly doesn’t want to work with you. That doesn’t deter you from trying to bring a little Christmas spirit and friendship to the man in the red hood, though. All he’s missing is a little green and some lights.

December in Gotham is cold, wet, and busy for vigilantes. With Batman breathing down your neck about staying in fighting shape no matter the weather or the time of year, it can be easy to let Christmas slip by unnoticed, and Jason usually does. Since you joined the team, though, you’ve decided it will never happen again.

“Those lights are new,” you point out as you trail behind Jason, cutting through a previously undecorated alley.

“Focus!” he snaps, his helmet turning as he looks over his shoulder at you. “Just because it’s Christmas doesn’t mean we stop to look at pretty lights instead of finding Scarecrow’s new hideout.”

You shrug and jog a few steps to catch up, your eyes focused on his red helmet as he slows. He pulls a grappling hook from his belt and aims it upward.

“You don’t have one do you?” he asks, his voice giving away how annoyed and tired he is.

“Pretty sure Bruce only gives those to his sons,” you answer sheepishly. “I can just take the ladder on the backside of the building. Or we can split up.”

Jason barks a single, harsh laugh. “One, Bruce isn’t sexist like that so maybe he just knows you’re incompetent. And, two, we’re not splitting up.”

“Because I’m incompetent?” you ask, smiling.

Jason’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighs before wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you against his chest until your feet meet the solid roof. His hand raises but lingers by your side as he looks down at you. Nodding to himself, he pulls his arm back and turns to look out over the freezing, dirty streets of Gotham.

“What are the chances he’d go for the water supply again?” you ask quietly.

“Not very good,” Jason answers. “Do you think before you ask those questions?”

“Think? No. But I do see Bane pushing a huge crate into the water department offices down the street.”

Jason jumps from his crouched position and moves toward you, the heat radiating off his body like a warm hug against your skin as he stands behind you. 

There’s a hint of grumbling as he raises his voice to ask, “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“Bane didn’t walk out until after you asked, Jason. I may be incompetent but I’m not a complete idiot,” you answer. 

You blame the December weather for your change in attitude; any other time, you would have made a joke and asked for his help since Bruce was working on your grappling hook and didn’t have a spare (not that you’d ever tell Jason the wire snapped and dropped you three storeys the last time he asked you to split up). But now, you’re tired and cold and want to get away from Jason before you say something you shouldn’t, so you jump off the roof and onto the fire escape as Jason’s yells fall on deaf ears while you rush toward the water department.

When you try the handle, the doorknob twists easily, but as you prepare to open it, a gloved hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back.

“What are you doing? Trying to get yourself killed?” Jason whispers angrily.

“Why do you care, Jason? If I die, you don’t have to work with me anymore, right?”

“Just because I don’t like working with you doesn’t mean I want you dead,” he snaps.

“Then watch my back and try not to be such a Grinch.”

You tear your wrist away from him, blind to his face dropping and his jaw clenching under his mask. Pulling the door open slowly, you slip into the shadows, grateful to feel Jason behind you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You found Scarecrow’s new hideout?” Batman asks.

Jason nods, but you keep your eyes on your feet.

“And you went in - without telling anyone - only to get into a fight with Bane and doused with Scarecrow toxin?”

Jason nods again.

“Who made the call to go in without backup?”

“I…” Jason begins.

You don’t look up as you cut him off. “I did. Jason wanted to wait but I went in without him and he followed me. It’s my fault.”

“Hood, you’re dismissed then. Alfred said you need 24 hours of rest before you can patrol again,” Batman says.

Jason turns, stopping to look down at you before walking out of the Batcave. You hear Bruce pull his cowl off, but keep your eyes trained on your shoes.

“Alfred said the only reason Jason got out unscathed is because you took most of the toxin; without a mask. Why did you rush in there, then put yourself in harm’s way when Jason is more prepared to deal with it?”

“I didn’t think about that. I saw a threat and wanted to help my fri- teammate.” He’s not your friend, you remind yourself, no matter how badly you want him to be.

Bruce sighs, then clicks his tongue. You finally look up at him, and he looks like he’s fighting an internal war between Bruce and Batman. The one who wants to bench you for being reckless and the one who wants to hug you for protecting his son, even if he didn’t need it.

“Thank you. Just- call for backup next time, okay?”

You promise that you will. “But if someone is in danger, I will not hesitate to help.”

“I know that. But try to be a little more careful in the future, okay? Are you hurt?”

“No,” you lie, your mind racing on the remnants of the toxin as your face aches from the impact of Bane’s punch.

As you exit the Batcave and cut through Wayne Manor, Jason is leaning against the front door, his mask gone and his blue eyes leveled on you.

“Did he bench you?” he asks.

“No. Just told me not to do it again.”

Jason nods and pushes off the door, walking to you and looking down into your eyes. “That was incredibly stupid and if Bruce didn’t have this attachment to you, I’d be fighting him to get rid of you or stick you with someone else.”

“Sorry you feel that way,” you mumble, skirting around him and walking outside.

You breathe in the fresh air and try to ignore the feeling of your heartbeat in your face. You’ll undoubtedly have a bruise, so maybe it’s time to finally wear the mask Bruce seems keen on convincing you is for your safety. Maybe it’ll get Jason to lighten up, too. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bruce must’ve given a powerful lecture if it got you in the mask,” Jason teases.

You hum, hoping you don’t have to say anything and make the pain in your jaw worse.

“Just ordinary patrol today, so we can split up if you still want to,” he offers.

You shrug, watching the helmet tilt as its unblinking eye slits stare at you.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” you say. “Split up, then.”

You take the East side of your quadrant while Jason goes West. As the night goes on and your pain medicine wears off, you want to curl up into a ball on one of the roofs you're jumping across and go to sleep. You slow before stopping in the middle of a roof, gently pressing your hand against the underside of your jaw, trying to alleviate the pain.

“What are you doing?” Jason asks, his voice distorted by the mask as he appears suddenly behind you.

“Nothing,” you say, the word mumbled by your hand holding one side of your jaw closed.

You hear his footsteps as he walks around you, stopping in front of you and pulling your hand away from your face before gently lifting your mask to your nose. His sharp inhale is barely audible through the helmet, but you catch it.

“Look that good?” you joke.

“When did that happen? Tonight?”

“No. Bane punched me two nights ago; it’s getting worse, as usual.”

“You should have told someone; what if he had broken your jaw?”

“Then you wouldn’t have to hear my commentary that you love so much.”

“Can you take anything seriously?”

“Can you stop taking everything seriously?” you argue. “I got hurt, so what? You don’t even like me!”

“I never said- no matter my feelings, you’re my teammate. Just tell me this stuff.”

“Because you’re such a good listener,” you mutter.

“Let’s go. We’ll finish patrolling together.”

You nod, pulling your mask back down and following Jason to a roof with a bird’s eye view. You sit on the edge beside him, looking at the twinkling Christmas lights scattered throughout Gotham.

“What do you want for Christmas?” you ask.

Jason’s mask swings toward you. “What do I want for Christmas?” he repeats incredulously. “Oh, let’s see… a partner who doesn’t rush us both into danger, a life that isn’t marked by death and loss, a team that doesn’t look at me like I’m one second away from becoming a supervillain, and maybe, if there is anything like Christmas magic, a day where you don’t act like my life is worth more than yours!”

You hold your breath as he yells at you, releasing it when he looks back out to the skyline.

“Red, we’re here to relieve you. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night,” Red Robin says through the comm system.

Jason storms off as soon as he hears that, leaving you alone two nights before Christmas.

“I don’t think they have that on Amazon,” you whisper to Gotham, rubbing the good side of your face to stop yourself from crying.

✯✯✯✯✯

Bruce gave you a few nights off, presumably because Jason complained about you. The morning after Jason told you what he wanted for Christmas, you get a package containing the gift you thought he’d like. You wrap it, then set it on your kitchen counter, unsure whether it’s worth it to take it to him or if you should leave it at the manor while he’s gone. Shrugging, you decide you have time to make the decision and walk to your couch, queuing your favorite Christmas movie and trying to push Jason Todd out of your head. Deep down, you always believed he was mean because he cared and kept you safe by keeping you at arms’ distance, but now you’re not so sure.

On Christmas Eve, you find yourself standing outside Jason’s apartment, his gift in one hand and the other hand ready to knock. Taking a deep breath, you hope for the best and knock. The door opens a moment later, and Jason looks at you, his gaze catching on the bruise momentarily.

“Um, I just wanted to bring you this. And say that I’m sorry. Merry Christmas,” you explain as you extend the bag to him.

He takes it, pulling his eyes from yours to peek past the tissue paper. His blue eyes widen as he sees what’s in the bag before he closes the door quickly. You step back, hurt, and prepare to leave when the door opens again. Jason pulls you into his arms and into his apartment, kicking the door closed behind him as he holds you close. Your arms wrap loosely around his waist.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

Your arms immediately tighten around him, and you press your uninjured cheek against his chest.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Of course. Merry Christmas, Jay.”

“No, no,” he begins, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his shining like a frozen lake. “You don’t say ‘of course,’ like I deserve it. Not after everything I’ve done to you. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to apologize, but I just..”

“Push people away because you think you’re a bad guy?” you suggest quietly.

“I am a bad guy,” he responds.

“No, you’re not. Jason, do you push people away for you or for them, and their safety, because you care about them?”

Jason is quiet as he stares into your eyes, dropping his gaze to your bruise once. “I care about you,” he whispers. “You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”

“She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes,” you quote.

“Where did you find a special edition of Pride and Prejudice this close to Christmas?” Jason asks, smiling brightly.

“I thought it was going to get here too late.”

“Thank you. For the book and for pushing back.”

“You’re worth it, Jay. Merry Christmas.”

He barely lets you finish before he pulls you in for another kiss the Christmas lights twinkling on the Gotham skyline starkly contrast the streets below, going unnoticed in the background as you realize Jason only pretended not to like you because of how much he cares for you. That, and being wrapped in his arms, is the only Christmas gift you’ve ever needed.

[nataliasquote]

Masterlist

Welcome to my masterlist! Alongside my work on Wattpad and AO3, you can find all my mini series and oneshots linked down below. I usually only write for Natasha Romanoff and occasionally Yelena Belova, but feel free to send in any requests. But no smut, I’m not comfortable with that :)

Natasha Romanoff | Series

[F = fluff, A = angst, H = hot af ]

⧗ Double the Trouble AU | WandaNat x daughter: [F] Natasha and Wanda have their work cut out raising twin girls. But despite the struggles and the arguments, there is nothing that would break the bond this family has created

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Canon oneshots:

A Day Out: [F] summer and sunshine calls for family trips out. To the zoo, naturally[2.9k words]

Groceries: [F] Natasha volunteers to do the weekly shop. Mundane, perhaps, but with two babies, things are never smooth sailing [1.4k words]

Cuddles: [F] a tipsy Y/n only wants one thing when she comes home from a party- Natasha’s hugs. And who is Natasha to refuse cuddles from her teenagers? [800 words]

New Families: [F] Natasha was content keeping her little family to herself. But Yelena and Melina weren’t. Which is how the family of four find themselves in Ohio, resurfacing memories for Natasha and challenging the three year olds in a whole new environment. Isla loves it, Y/n… not so much [4.4k words]

Yelena’s Day: [F] it’s finally Yelena’s turn to babysit the twins… a big responsibility for a usually messy Russian. [4.3k words]

Switch Up: [F] Yelena is back, the twins are older, and her scheming ways do nothing but backfire. a mother always knows… [3.3k words]

⧗ My Songbird AU | Natasha x Willow (O!C): It’s the 70s. Final summer of high school. Why not spend it getting high, partying and sneaking off with your girlfriend in a town that is so disapproving of anything deviating from the norm.

Mood board | part 1 [F]

⧗ Back in Time | Winterwidow x daughter: Natasha and Bucky’s daughter seeks comfort in her Aunt Wanda as her parents go missing on a mission. She doesn’t ask for much, she only wants to see them again.

part 1 [F] | part 2 [A]

⧗ Midas Touch | Maid!Natasha: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.

part 1 [F + A] | part 2 [F + A]

Natasha Romanoff | Oneshots

⧗ Promises: [A] Natasha and Anastasia didn’t know love… not until they found it in each other. But the Red Room was cold, in more ways than one [2.6k words]

⧗ Ghost of You: [F + A] Learning to move on after Natasha’s sacrifice is the hardest thing in the world [3.2k words]

⧗ Lost in the Fire | f1 AU: [A] A horrific crash tests Natasha’s nerves to the limit as she has no choice but to sit back and watch from the garage. Her girlfriend and her sister push themselves for that all important win. [4.5k words]

⧗ I Will Rescue You | natasha romanoff x adopted daughter reader: [F + A] An alert from the Red Room sends Natasha, Yelena and Bucky on a last minute mission. But what they find is far from expected… [3.7k words]

⧗ Can’t You See This is Breaking Me: [A] Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves [5.2k words]

⧗ Tattoos For Troubled Minds: [F] Natasha struggles to trust anyone when it comes to touching her body. But that becomes rather difficult when a tattoo idea comes into her mind that she just can’t shake [3.6k words]

⧗ Midnight: [A] Natasha has never learned how to rest, and at midnight is where she is most vulnerable [1.1k words]

⧗ I Know What You Are: [A] The bane of Natasha’s existence had finally slipped up but when sent to eliminate her, feeling get in the way far too easily. [5.9k words]

⧗ Mustang | cowgirl Nat AU: [H] The mayor’s daughter. A bounty hunter. One has freedom, the other does not. But will one fleeting night be enough to convince Natasha to leave everything she’s ever known behind? [4.3k words]

⧗ Is It All For Nothing?: [A] You just want a friend. Is that so bad? How is it fair that everyone else gets one but you. What did you do that was so wrong? [1.3k words]

⧗ Welcome To My Head At Midnight | song fic: [A] Natasha Romanoff is her own worst enemy and maybe this fight isn’t one she’s so sure she can win. [2k words]

⧗ Sunkissed By An Angel: [F] the perfect lazy morning in the Romanoff summer beach house. [1.5k words]

Yelena Belova | Oneshots

⧗ For Her: [F + A] Yelena tries to find the balance between spending christmas with her girl and tracking down Clint Barton… [1.7k words]

[osamucide]

bitch

we do things a different way, it's up to you and it's up to me, i'm your bitch, you're my bitch . . . !

NSFW CONTENT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

wc: 3k

cw: dom!atsushi, gn!afab!+ada!reader, dazai being an asshole, established relationship, teasing, nicknames (darling, pretty, bitch), use of cunt/clit/hole/cock/dick, begging, fingering, penetration, unprotected sex, rough sex, choking, orgasm denial, praise, creampie, cum eating, questionable confessions upon climaxing? FILTH FILTH FILTH

reid: my dazai shrine is more of a dazai and atsushi shrine at this point…oops anyway ENJOY hahaha

. . . .ᐟ

For as much affection as Atsushi holds for his mentor, the bandaged man is also the bane of his existence.

It's apparent in situations like this - ones where Dazai has once again made some sort of good-natured poke at your relationship with Atsushi, and the white-haired boy can't help but cross his arms and try to stay stone-faced while he blushes. The worst part is you always giggle along with his elder.

Not that Atsushi’s particularly embarrassed when it comes to discussing your relationship with your coworkers. Rather, what bothers him is the way Dazai and the others have ran with the narrative that Atsushi’s your loyal cat, you have him under your thumb, you wear the pants, blah, blah, blah.

He blames himself, partially. He let them go so far with the jokes and the teasing and his gentle, docile nature toward others. Everyone seems to assume now that it’s all true. Atsushi just doesn’t know how to dispel these conceptions, no, misconceptions that he alone is your pet, your baby, that he’s submissive to you somehow, without being vulgar or crude.

Because you both know that’s not always true.

But it’s no one else’s business, really. Sure, he brings you your coffee just how you like it every morning, and sure, your first instinct after stressful missions and assignments is to fold him into a hug and let him collect himself in your arms. Sure, you take good care of him and he likes to give that appreciation back. Sure, he picks up your extra paperwork when you’re just too tired.

But today, when Dazai looks up from stirring his coffee to coo and remark, “It’s just so cute that Atsushi’s your little bitch,” it stirs something in your weretiger that he doesn’t find appropriate to express at the table in the café, surrounded by his colleagues.

So he sits there and takes it like he always does. Sure, you never give into prodding at him quite like Dazai encourages you to, but you don’t deny it. You still laugh. Even while you’re pink in the cheeks too, you nudge your lover under the table and will him to play along.

And he does, for the most part. He sends you sheepish smiles while he taps his foot, tries to wipe the flush from his face, even laughs along to mask his irritation.

Until he can get you home and prove them wrong to the only person that really matters - you.

“God, my head’s starting to hurt so bad. Think I looked at the computer for too long today,” Atsushi says a little shakily. It’s true that it was an office-heavy day; whether or not his comment is a cop-out is lost on you.

You turn to him. “I’ll get you some water from the bar and we can head home, sound good? I’m actually pretty tired, too.”

The smile he flashes you is pure as can be. “I would love that, my darling.”

Dazai glances between the both of you as you usher Atsushi out of the booth. Your superior turns to strike up a conversation with Kunikida about how, yeah, his head hurts too! Why do you give us so much work, Ku-ni-ki-da-kun?

The sweet barista slides you a cup of water; you thank her and wave goodbye to your coworkers as the bell above the door sings your departure.

Atsushi tangles his free hand with yours as he sips his water intently. You swing your arms a bit along the slight breeze. “Good thing I just picked up some more tylenol. I knew we were running lo-”

“Dazai annoys the shit out of me sometimes,” your lover interrupts you. You blink a few times. It’s rare for Atsushi to be so forward with such a sentiment. Unless he’s really pissed. Or, unless-

“Yeah, he can be a little much with the teasing,” you agree, looking ahead. “If it’s uncomfortable, Atsu, I’ll tell him to tone it down, and I’m sure he would. He’s a dick, but he’s not that much of a dick.”

“No, it’s not that it’s…” He swallows, withdrawing a bit. “Uncomfortable, I just… don’t understand what’s with the, uh… you know.”

You quirk your head toward him. “The…?”

He groans a little. “The way they all assume I’m your bitch.”

You pause for a moment.

Then, you chuckle a bit. “Oh, that’s what it’s about.”

Atsushi whips his head to glare at you wide-eyed.

“Yeah, it is.”

You’re silent the rest of your walk. You’re silent as you jiggle your key in the lock to your dorm. You’re certainly aware that Atsushi can be dominant when he wants to. He knows you’re aware of this.

“Well,” you muse innocently as you rummage around in one of your kitchen cabinets as he shuts the door abruptly and pulls his shoes off, “I don’t exactly know how to tell them otherwise, Atsu. You wanna tell ‘em what we get up to?” You shake a couple pills into his hand - whether or not the headache was genuine is still beyond you until he backs you toward the counter, slams his meds and empty cup beneath his palms, and cages you into a feverish kiss.

No headache, you conclude. You lock your arms around his neck and smile into him.

There’s nothing humorous, however, in the way he scoops you up by your ass - you yelp because you’re always caught off guard by his effortless strength - and carries you until he can drop you on your back onto your futon.

Atsushi’s warm lips don’t leave yours for a second as he wedges a knee between your legs and presses into you hard without hesitation. Your gasp lets his tongue behind your teeth. Your eyes slip open as his hands work in the space between your hips and your shoulders and you realize he’s serious. He wants them to know the truth.

“Everyone thinks you’ve got me whipped. And they’re right,” Atsushi’s nearly growling into your mouth as he makes quick work of your tie and button up. “But sometimes it seems like you forget-” He captures your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling back to stare down at you. “-you’re just as needy for me.”

With that, he starts down your neck.

The kisses he presses there are more of bites - he laps at them, soothing each blooming red patch with his hot tongue. You grab at his hair.

“Gonna let me remind you of that, huh?” His fingers are undoing your belt, and he’s leaning back to look down at you.

Of course, you look gorgeous, nodding obediently as your hands fall back on either side of your head. Atsushi works you out of your pants. Already breathless, you reach for his clothes, too. You really could undo him with the simplest of touches, the softest of looks; he was determined, however, to live up to his words. He was going to remind you.

You barely get his shirt all the way unbuttoned before he’s circling your cunt with two fingers.

You gasp once more.

“So wet.” It’s an observation he makes almost every time; it makes you go red no less.

It’s really a sight, your weretiger so fiery and assertive. You understand why people tend to take him for a softie; they don’t know him like you do, though, and the thought makes you grin as he works you open on his hand. Your hands fly to your mouth as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and looks down at you wildly.

Atsushi’s so pretty with his hair mussed and his abs flexing in anticipation. His fingers sink into you with fervor.

“Atsu,” you croon out as he curls inside you. “Oh, fuck.”

He’s concentrated as he yanks his pants down and off with one hand and stretches you out with the other. His multitasking comes to a halt as his cock hits his stomach - you’re empty again, his fingers leaving you with a pop!

He lets you lean up to push his shirt off his shoulders, but the second you reach for him, he smacks your hands away.

“Nuh-uh. Gonna do it my way,” he tells you, grabbing you by the hips to pull you up and flush against his pelvis - with this, your back hits the futon again, and you’re breathless once more from his manhandling. His eyes are dark, dual-tone sinking like a sunset as he stares down your body like you’re a god.

Your knees have bent on instinct - Atsushi takes one of your ankles and hooks it over his shoulder before pressing his tip against your waiting hole.

You must make a face, because he grins wickedly.

“Already got your eyes rollin’ back and I’m not even in you yet.” It’s his turn to laugh, and his laugh is meant to mock you. Mock your laughing from earlier. Mock Dazai. Mock everyone who thinks you don’t completely belong to him.

He pushes his silver bangs back and grinds his cock against you.

Your hips roll. You can’t help it - there’s a sheen of sweat on Atsushi’s forehead already, and he’s rolling his bottom lip between his teeth again. He looks like an angel. Your other leg wraps around his waist in attempt to pull him closer, to get him inside you, but he just holds you by one thigh, one hip, and keeps grinding into your clit torturously.

“You want it, pretty?”

You nod furiously - he won’t not give it to you. He can’t hold himself back when it comes to you, you’re sure.

“Better say please.”

“Please,” you keen. “Want you to fuck me, please.”

He keeps grinding. He keeps looking down at you. He grips you harder.

“A- Atsu,” you continue. “Please. Please, please, please.”

But he just keeps looking at you.

“I want it, please,” you keep going, keep drawing milky noises from between you both in your pathetic attempt at friction, unsure of what he’s looking for.

Your weretiger’s jaw sets.

Among your frantic humping, you let everything you can think tumble out.

“Please, fuck me, Atsu! Claim me, please. ‘M yours, I’m all yours, I want it, I want it, just fuck me like you own me, please-“

That’s what he’s looking for.

It’s all he needs to plunge into you. He sets a brutal pace and you arch, your whining, moaning, and sobbing underscoring the rhythmic smack, smack, smack! of his hips against yours.

And he fucks you like this for what feels like forever.

Atsushi’s hands alternate between your waist, your nipples, your neck, your ass, your single calf and other hip, your clit, over the next twenty? thirty? minutes. It’s hard to tell how long he drills into you - after the first time he pulls his hand off your twitching clit to put your orgasm off further, time is far beyond your grasp.

He denies you thrice more, laughing through his groans. He’s looking at you in the most condescending way possible through the haze of utter love he feels for you all the time - especially right now - hoping he’s made his point as he tells you no, not yet, so good for me, gotta make sure you know whose you are, one more for me, you’ll cum when I tell you to, pretty.

Something about today must’ve really gotten to him - it’s undoubtedly the longest his patience has spread through his words and commands, some new, some old, some making you clench around him like a virgin.

“You’re cock drunk-” Atsushi pulls a hand off the calf next to his face and licks his fingertips before reaching down to play with you once more. “-every- hah- every time I’m in you. You love this dick.”

“Ah- ah- ah- ‘tsu!” You’re incoherent against his pace - you’re giving him everything you can, really. He’s relentless right now. “Y- yes!”

“That’s fuckin’ right. Hah-” He rubs you hard and fast while he impales you on him. ‘“Wanna hear you say it.”

There’s a tinge of a whine in his command - a tinge that, if he wasn’t fucking you out of your skin right now, would’ve made you smirk. His insistence that he can take control and keep it would’ve usually made you snicker, but right now Atsushi has one hand driving you steadily toward heaven, the other gripping your neck, and his two-toned eyes are burning almost completely violet beneath his creased brow as he awaits your response. All you can give him is strangled breath.

“Nngh- huh- ah!”

It’s like a switch flips for a moment. He circles his hips, trying to let you catch a break to speak, but his grinding against that one spot inside you coupled with his fingers on your pulse in two places barely gives you the chance - you claw into his biceps as he slows to a brief stop. Neither of you know if the whimper you let out is one of relief for a lull or pain at the loss of his thrusts.

You can tell he’s biting at the inside of his cheek before he slides his hand up to your jaw and hunches forward to kiss you fully and sweetly on the lips. The look in his eyes as he pulls back is chaste compared to how he’s still throbbing inside you.

“You okay, pretty?” He traces the shell of your ear with his finger. The flecks of green in his gaze sparkle momentarily. There’s the Atsushi everyone knows and loves.

You let out a final huff and squeeze his arms reassuringly before you answer. “More than okay. Just winded.”

The smile he sends you is alight with nothing but adoration.

Atsushi kisses you again, this time on the forehead where he mumbles a quiet good, and strokes your face. He shifts himself around a little, giving you a second while you mutter about how good he feels, how he should please keep fucking you, how much you want him to make you cum.

When he pulls himself upright again, the flecks of green are lost in the violet once more.

“Now that you got your voice back-“ His fingers still ghost across your cheek, teasing gently toward your lips. He lets out a single sigh, too. “-I said I wanna hear you say it.”

“Fuck it out of me,” you challenge.

Atsushi draws his lips together, shakes his head, and picks back up where he left off, angling as deep as he can reach. He’s entranced by the way your cunt swallows him, soaks him - your words ring in his head as he thumbs at your clit again.

“Say it,” he snarls.

You’re rocking madly against his hand and his cock - you’re close again, he can tell from the way you’re babbling anything but what he’s asking you to, if not from the way you rake your nails down his arms.

“I’ll let you cum when you say it.” Atsushi shakes your leg off his shoulder to push it back against you, along with your other one. “Need you to say it.”

“Love you, Atsu-“ you tease him. “Love you, fuck!”

“Say it!” He cries your name and doubles over, his elbow landing on one side of your head as he pounds you impossibly harder. “Say it, say it, say it, say it, please.”

Finally, you’re able to muster up that smirk. He can’t see it - his face is buried in your neck; he’s watching the way you ripple beneath the tight back-and-forth swipes across your clit.

You’re shaking - you want to hold off for as long as you can, get back at him for denying you so many times, but the feeling is too all-encompassing from the way Atsushi reaches your guts and abuses your clit and breathes into your shoulder that you have to - plus, he asked so nicely! You just have to let him get what he wants.

“I love this dick, Atsu,” you sob. “L- love this dick. Would die for this dick- ngh- Wanna- ah! Ah!”

“Fuck, th- thank you.”

Silver hair falls over your eyes. Atsushi’s hips stutter in time with yours.

A white-hot shimmer rolls over you as your weretiger pushes you over the edge - you thank him back, you tell him you love him, you curl your legs around his hips and swear you go blind for a moment as he fucks his cum into you, wet, warm, squelching.

“Fuck-“ Atsushi’s cursing between your name, “Fuck, you feel so good. So good for me. Fuck! Love you, love you, I love you-“

You feel a few tears in the crook of your neck - you know he was just as desperate as you - and Atsushi doesn’t stop moving until you’re glazed over and squirming numbly, kicking at him with what minimal strength you have left, pulling his face toward yours for a kiss.

His vigor is spent - his other arm supports him as you cup his face, tuck his single long strand of hair behind his ear, and press your panting mouth to his.

The kiss is long and sweet. Atsushi twitches inside you; you feel slick dripping down the curve of your ass toward your sheets, but can’t find it in you to care. You just kiss your man, gently, softly, breathlessly.

Atsushi finally pulls back, sits up on his knees. He dips two fingers in the mixture of cum leaking out of you and licks them clean.

He leans down to kiss you one more time; you taste both of you on his tongue. “Hope you know you’re my bitch just as much as I am yours.”

In all actuality, you scarcely need reminding, but you’ll happily crumble beneath him every time he asks because you love seeing him in the way he was minutes ago - sweaty, disheveled, knuckles white, jaw slack as he pumps you full of his cum and tells you you’re so good for him, you make him feel so good. It’s worth it to know he feels loved and cared for; it’s worth it to know he feels like he can give that back to you.

Even after all that, he’s still grinning wickedly.

Yeah, you’re going another round. Maybe this time you’ll really show him who he belongs to.

[mixtape-racha]

looks like we made it | choi yeonjun

maybe being maid of honor at your best friend's wedding, opposite your college ex, had its perks after all... // minors dni, 18+

warnings: exes to lovers, best man!yeonjun x maid of honor!reader, built up tension // words: 3.84k

a/n: sorry in advance, but i took out the smut section because it didn't feel like it fit with the direction the fic took. but regardless, i hope you enjoy!

you giggled again as your best friend, eui, pulled you from the passenger side of her car - seemingly desperate to get you up to her apartment.

“eui, what’s going on? why are you in such a rush?” the smile of your face was etched permanently, like it always was when you were around eui. the two of you had been friends since you were merely five years old, and had remained inseparable ever since.

she didn’t respond though, her laughs growing as she covered your eyes once you were outside her front door. through all of your protests, she shushed you and carefully led you inside - based on the direction she steered you in, you had assumed into her living room.

she had been secretive and kind of strange all day, the conversation never flowing into why she so urgently needed to hang out with you at all. it was definitely suspicious, but with eui you could never expect what was coming. it could be the most mundane thing ever, for all you knew.

oh, but how wrong you were.

when she finally removed her palms from your eyes, you blinked as you adjusted to the light. looking around, there were loads of pink balloons and decorations. was she pregnant? no, no she would’ve told you sooner so that couldn’t be it.

“surprise!” she cried, holding up a cake with your name iced on the top. but… what else was etched in the pale pink icing?

will you be my maid of honor?

once the words had registered in your brain, you squealed, tears springing to your eyes. you pulled her into a massive hug, both bouncing on the balls of your feet in excitement.

“of course i will! oh my god, eui, this is huge!”

the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon pampering yourselves over a bottle of red wine and face masks, with the twilight movies playing peacefully in the background. her fiance was away for the weekend, so you had all the time in the world to relax with your soul twin. really, you had both been dreaming of days like these since you were preteens hooked on the idea of marrying your celebrity crushes, and now here you were - merely months away from watching your closest friend in the world walk down the aisle.

you gossiped a little, getting tea about how eui’s own mother was arguing with her fiance’s mother about the theme of the wedding, and silly things like the color scheme and the cake. you had met soobin many times, and he was very open about how argumentative his mother could be. especially when it came to her children - she wanted nothing less than the best for them, no matter what it took. somehow, he didn’t share his mother’s need for the finest things, often opting to take the easy route instead. for “simplicity and comfort reigned over expensive and difficult”, he often said.

“you wouldn’t believe how he asked yeonjun to be his best man, though,” eui huffed with a roll of her eyes. “he literally asked him on speakerphone in the car. like… where is the spice? the flavor? the speciality?”

you laughed along, sharing her confusion, but one thing stuck out in the forefront of your mind. choi yeonjun. soobin’s best friend, and the bane of your existence.

you and yeonjun had dated throughout your sophomore and junior years in college, and everyone had thought you were soulmates - you were voted first to get married, first to start a family, most likely to grow old together by all of your friends.

but right at the beginning of senior year, something changed. he became more distant, more distracted. you barely saw each other, and when you did, all you would do is eat a burger or nap together. it was exhausting to feel like you weren’t enough anymore, and so you left. but what hurt the most is that he didn’t try to stop you from leaving, and he was in a new - very shown-off - relationship merely a month later.

sure, the two of you were civil now you had graduated and moved on with your lives, but that didn’t stop the little bitter feeling you got deep in your stomach every time you saw him. and now - god, you’d have to see each other so often. you’d have to share so many responsibilities and tasks. eui and soobin were lucky you loved them so much to be able to deal with it.

not long after eui had actually asked you to be such an integral part in her wedding party, yeonjun had reached out to you. he offered to take you out for lunch the following week so you could discuss your respective hen and stag parties - of course, that was his biggest concern right now. but respectfully, you agreed, and arranged to meet him at a diner on the outskirts of town the following thursday. you only had 5 months until the wedding, so it was better to start organizing these things as soon as possible.

by the time thursday finally rolled around, you had forgotten about your plans to meet with yeonjun until he texted you while you were 6 episodes deep into a pretty little liars marathon. stressed and half asleep, you rushed around to grab anything you needed and put on clothes - there was no way you were meeting him in pajama’s. 

he was waiting outside your apartment building, having kindly offered to drive you to the diner and back as your car was in the garage getting repairs. when you finally got outside, he was waiting leant against his car, scrolling through his phone. for a second you were transported back to college, seeing a younger yeonjun waiting to pick you up for a date. it felt strange, and you shrugged off the feeling as you approached him.

“hey, you.” you smiled, pulling his attention from his phone and alerting him of your presence. he smiled widely, holding his arms out for a brief hug, which for some unknown reason you accepted.

“hey, yourself. how’ve you been?” he asked as you pulled away and got into the car, the stress of adult life evident on both of your faces.

you made small talk during the drive to the diner, and it was surprisingly comfortable. you forgot how well you and yeonjun truly got along, whether as friends or as partners, and already you knew you were going to enjoy having him back in your life like this.

once in the diner, you both ordered milkshakes and a side of fries to share as you discussed your respective plans for the hen and stag parties, and what was off-limits for the others to do.

“honestly, just no strippers. i know its common sense, but its a respect thing. eui wouldn’t appreciate it, and honestly, i don’t think soobin would enjoy it anymore.” you giggled, watching as yeonjun intently took notes on what you were saying. he was almost as serious as you were, rocking up with ruled notepads and an abundance of different coloured pens.

“no, i agree. i think bin would be offended if i even tried it. i was thinking about taking some guys away on a camping trip for a weekend. bin’s turned into such an old man - i was thinking he’d enjoy just a few guys going fishing. what are you thinkin for the hen party?”

you smiled softly, appreciating how much effort he was willing to put in for his best friend.

“eui’s mentioned a few times wanting to do a spa getaway - so realistically, we could plan you guys going camping and us going to a spa resort for the same weekend. i was thinking maybe the weekend before the wedding if that works for your ideas?”

yeonjun hummed before replying. “i think that makes sense. if the wedding is a tuesday, we all leave on the friday and then come back on the sunday evening. then monday, i know soobin’s very traditional, so the bridal party and groomsmen for the ceremony can stay separately to prepare for tuesday.”

deep down, you were shocked at how seriously he was taking it, but hastily agreed.

you stayed a while longer, discussing various plans over your fries, and just generally catching up before he drove you home, pulling you into another hug to say goodbye for now. it was nice, you truly loved having him around. 

unfortunately, you didn’t see him again for a couple of weeks.

eui and soobin had invited you over for dinner, and you realized when you got out of your uber that yeonjun was there, too - you spotted his car outside and, regretfully, your stomach fluttered. it was just a casual dinner with some friends in their apartment, but suddenly you felt underdressed in your work shirt and jeans. god, did you even remember to put a bottle of body spray in your bag this morning? why was the thought of yeonjun’s presence making you so stressed?

with a sigh, you trudged into the building, catching the elevator up to the fifth floor. you could call apartment 505 your second home by now; spending all your free time there before eui had soobin move in, and still spending every friday night and occasionally a saturday morning there too. you were lucky that eui had found such an understanding fiance, one who adored you like you were his best friend from the start, and even going as far as to introduce you as his sister-in-law now.

knocking on the door, you heard a yell from inside before feet padded towards the door, and it swung open to reveal a pouty eui. she had her arms crossed over her chest, and from the living room you could hear insanely loud laughter from the two men inhabiting the room.

“what did they do now?” you teased, placing your bag and shoes down as she let you in.

“they keep cheating at uno!” she cried, genuine anguish in her voice. “they’re teaming up against me, (y/n)! its so unfair!”

“choi soobin!” you called out in feigned disgust as you entered the living room, very casually taking a seat next to yeonjun, who was sat on the opposite sofa to soobin - and now eui. “i can’t believe you’d betray your future wife like this! i might have to whisk her away if you carry on.”

yeonjun cackled next to you, and just as quickly as the feeling arose, your anxiety about seeing him disappeared.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“ladies and gentleman, i give you– the bride and groom!”

as the first notes of unchained melody by the righteous brothers played through the speakers, a warm smile grew on your face. just being here to watch your best friend marry the love of her life was phenomenal.

you looked across the head table you were seated at, and caught eyes with yeonjun - was he already looking at you? you didn’t have time to process the thought before he smiled, eyes all crinkly and tear-filled, and raising his glass slightly in a toast to you both.

yeah. you’d done well. the wedding had run so smoothly, because no one could even consider acting up before you or yeonjun put a stop to it. you were just grateful you didn’t have to “accidentally” spill red wine on a guest who had shown up wearing white - your biggest worry averted, as everyone in invitation took the dress code very seriously.

over the past few months, yeonjun and yourself had grown extremely close again, and you couldn’t be happier. it felt nice, having him around. like a breath of fresh air that you hadn’t experienced since you graduated, and he truly brought out the best in you. all throughout the respective hen and stag weekends, you hadn’t stopped checking in with one another, to the point where one of your other friends took your phone, thinking you were drunk texting an ex.

you supposed that really, you were. it pained you to admit, but after spending so much time with yeonjun over the past few months, an itch had grown that you couldn’t quite scratch. you swore you’d tried everything - a trust vibrator, a dating app, even a blind date set up by eui - but nothing worked. it felt like every time he was around you, your soul yearned from yeonjun and your skin lit itself on fire.

you just had no idea that he was seated across the table from you, facing the exact same dilemma. he always thought he was over you - that you were both mature adults now, and you could be friends without your past affecting you. but even from that very first hug before you went to the diner together, you’d been playing on his mind like a looped track. you looked good - that much he could never deny. and sure, he would always hold you to a high standard because you were his first love, but this was deeper than that. no one else could even compare, not anymore. he wanted you so bad - not sure whether he just needed a fuck, or he truly missed you deep in his soul, but he wanted to find out.

as the evening progressed, you couldn’t help but let your mind and eyes wander to the man who seemed to be constantly on your mind. during wedding planning, you always seemed to be paired together - not that you minded - and that resulting in the pair of you hanging out regularly by yourselves. movie nights, games nights with eui and soobin, trips to the diner, even accompanying one another on their weekly food shop when you bumped into each other in the supermarket. no matter how hard you tried to fight it, the universe was pushing you together and you weren’t sure how much resolve you had left. the last thing you needed was the kiss him, just for him to reject you, and feel like that 21-year-old heartbroken college student all over again. well, that was until one of soobin and yeonjun’s old college friends asked you to dance, which you happily agreed to.

the second yeonjun looked up from his conversation with eui’s young sister and looked eyes on you dancing with serim, his blood felt like it was boiling. his friend was looking at you with literal hearts in his eyes, who did he think he was? you were yeonju– well, you weren’t yeonjun’s. but the point was why the fuck did serim think he could flirt so hard as he spun you around on the dancefloor? especially right in front of where yeonjun was sitting? had he not been obvious enough? he spoke about you all the time to his friends, they had to know his returning feelings for you by now.

you, on the other hand, were more than happy in your predicament of dancing with serim. when the boy approached you, you vividly remembered him from college. most of all, you remembered how kind he was to you, even after you and yeonjun had broken up. so when he so politely asked you to dance, how could you say no? you already thought serim was lovely, and there was no harm in dancing with a handsome man. worst case scenario, he was boring. best case scenario, it helped you get over your unreciprocated feelings for yeonjun. you danced with him for a while, chatting away the whole time, until you had to excuse yourself to give your heeled feet a break and get a drink.

once you reached the bar, massaging your aching calves, you smiled as you ordered your drink. a vodka cranberry - something you’d discovered during your freshers week of college, and swore by ever since. you reached into your clutch to get your bank card, but a hand reached out and swiped their card across the reader before you could.

“serim, i appreciate it, but–”

“its been half an hour an you’ve already forgotten what i look like?” your protests were cut off as you looked up and met eyes with a smiling yeonjun, which caused a grin to spread across your face.

“course not, jjunie. just thought you were a little caught up being the future husband of every child here.” you giggled, referencing the way all the young girls at the wedding had fallen from him and approached one at a time, shyly asking if he’d marry them.

yeonjun was amazing with kids, that much you knew, and it warmed your heart watching the way he interacted with them, and told them that they’d find their own prince charming one day, because uncle jjunie couldn’t marry them.

“good,” he grinned, pushing your drink towards you as it was served. “don’t want you abandoning me for serim, now, do i?”

you sighed at that, taking a sip of your drink as yeonjun looked at you confused. upon further prompting, you opened up and spoke to him about your short experience with the boy in question.

“i just… i don’t know, jjun. he asked me out. and like, yeah, he’s sweet and all, but i don’t want to feel like i’m leading him on, you know?”

yeonjun looked perplexed at your words, but stayed quiet. he knew you well enough to know you would have more to say, and you looked away as you continued. you didn’t know what, but something about his gaze felt a lot more intense now.

“i’m not looking for dating or a relationship. well, i mean– i guess i am, but only with someone specific. unless i get over them, its not fair to try and pursue things with anyone else.”

he stayed quiet, still, and you looked over to see him staring at you with something unrecognizable in his eyes. you wondered for a second if you’d said something to upset him - never wanting that to be the outcome of any of your interactions. maybe he was worried serim’s heart would be broken if you rejected his advances? yeonjun was always very protective of his friends, everyone who knew him could attest to that. but the way he was looking at you was like he was trying to read your every inner thought, so you couldn’t be sure.

“fuck it… (y/n) can i talk to you outside?”

you were a little surprised by the bluntness of his words, but silently agreed, following as he headed to the empty hallway outside the room of the hotel that the reception was being hosted in. the second you exited, the loudly blaring music turned to a soft thudding bass, and so for that alone you were thankful.

yeonjun paced quietly for a moment, while you leant against the wall, taking off your heels to give your aching feet a break. you wished you put a pair of flats in your purse-bag, standing barefoot in a hotel corridor felt wrong on so many levels.

“jjun, what’s wrong? you know you can tell me anything, right?” you said softly after a few minutes of silence, genuinely worried for the taller boy in front of you. your words shook him from his trance and he stopped his endless pacing, but he still couldn’t bring himself to look at you.

his head was swirling, and he felt like he was spinning out of control. what if you rejected him? worse, what if you called him disgusting, or got mad that your recent proximity made him think that you could try again? what if you told eui and soobin that he’d made you uncomfortable, and he lost them, too? he knew if was silly to worry the way he was, but you looked so perfect in your bridesmaid dress and he was riddled with feelings of inadequacy. maybe serim would be better for you after all. serim had never broken your heart. serim had never acted like you didn;t exist to protect his own heart. serim would never do that to you, not like he had.

but at the same time, he knew he wasn’t that person anymore. he knew he was good enough. he knew he could be anything and everything you asked for. he could picture you walking towards him in a wedding dress, and he wanted that. he wanted all of it with you, and it had taken him one too many years to realize it.

he sighed heavily, a sound that you hadn’t heard leave his lips in many years. your heart thudded in your chest, not knowing what to expect - but preparing yourself for the worst. not that you knew what the worst would be, but you had to prepare either way.

however, what you weren’t expecting was for yeonjun to bare his heart to you - eyes wide and shining as he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. your heart skipped a heat with his every word. you didn’t even respond until you were 100% sure he had finished what he needed to say.

“i just– i’m so, so head over heels for you. when soobin told me you were eui’s maid of honour, i was worried. not for seeing you, but i wasn’t sure you’d want to do this with me after i broke you heart. and i did. i know i did. i was stupid, and i let go the best thing that ever happened to me, and i’m so ashamed it took me this long for me to figure it out.

then i saw you dancing with serim, and it was like everything i’ve been trying to repress these past few months came bubbling back up to the surface. i never truly got over you, but i was always ready to cheer you on and support you with whatever and whoever made you happy - until it happened. the idea of serim being the one to treat you right, or dance with you at a wedding, or hold you hand and buy your drinks for you - it made me honestly feel sick.

you don’t have to accept this, i don’t want you to accept because you feel like you have to. i’ll support you on whatever path you take, but i couldn’t waste another second not telling you - especially when everyone here can see what a catch you are.”

you didn’t know what flipped harder - your stomach or your heart. he truly wanted you? it was like a curse and a miracle warped into one. a miracle, because you never would’ve thought the stress of hiding your feelings this past few months was affecting him too. a curse, because you knew you were falling in the deep end again. it was yeonjun. it would always be yeonjun, and you knew that even in the deepest parts of your soul.

through watery eyes and a skip in your chest, you smiled at him, using everything in you to stop the tears from falling.

“jjunie, i love you. i always have, and i always will.”

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @wccycc @cherriruto @skz-streamer @kyrkitten @cherriesbloss0m @xenkimmie @laffatae @milkyway-vxm @yxnjvnnie @suburbiataehyung @queen-klarissa @demetrisscarf

[yelenaslyubov]

Cosmic Love

main masterlist || rhaenicent || requests

a/n: this is my first ‘a song of ice and fire’ universe fic i’ve written, as well as the first double character pairing fic i’ve written! i’m still getting the hang of it, so bear with me. i hope you enjoy it, friends! as always, if you want something, don’t be afraid to request it!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: rhaenyra targaryen x alicent hightower

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: cheesy sexy tooth rotting fluff x 1000 with a little side of angst.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: based on the events during the season two finale and loosely inspired by ‘cosmic love’ by florence + the machine, Alicent has made the journey to Dragonstone to strike a deal with Rhaenyra in regard to the crown. Rhaenyra is blindsided by the unexpected visit by Alicent, especially as Alicent wants Rhaenyra to follow her into the great beyond. what happens if Rhaenyra and Alicent are finally honest with themselves about where they stand?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 3.6k

DISCLAIMER: SOME OF THE DIALOGUE DOES NOT BELONG TO ME, IT BELONGS TO HBO!!!

Rhaenyra once again realized that sleep would not find her tonight. Of course, this was nothing new as of late, but there was still hope for improvement in her mind. The endless insomnia that seemed to never leave her would be the bane of her existence.

Ever since the death of Lucerys, Rhaenyra could never find a speck of sleep. Each time her eyes grew heavy, visions of her lost babe would appear to ensure sleep was never possible. It was now, more than ever, that sleep would improve her position.

The realm had its head turned to her and her opposers, and she would not be found lacking. With Daemon gone and some of her own army against her method of warfare, Rhaenyra felt hopeless.

She felt the flutter of her eyelids become heavy, slowly shutting them while thinking thoughts that brought good omens in hopes that tonight would be the night that she may get some rest. As her eyes shut, there was a knock at the door that was a tell tale sign that tonight was not the night for sleep.

Alicent’s held on to the rough, splintered side of the boat that was threatening to knock her off her feet. She had already regretted her choice as soon as she stepped afoot the large ship. The ocean was never her forte and this trip was only confirming her resentments.

She looked in the distance at the formidable island that lay for hundreds of years. She understood the significance, but she refused to acknowledge the indignation she held against it now. It was the home of her enemy, or so she thought. These days she felt her heart growing fonder for her once friend, hence her journey across the sea.

But these were not thoughts that she wanted to impede her brain at this time. They were too deep into the trifle that their indifference and misunderstanding had caused them. She must make haste in her quick thinking that had led her all the way to Dragonstone.

She was led off of the ship as soon as they touched land because wasting time was no option. Though speed was preferred, Alicent could not help but admire her surroundings. The castle and everything that it hugged was exactly how Rhaenyra described it to be. It all felt too surreal for Alicent.

Her fingers dragged along the cobblestone walls that prevented passerby’s from falling to their demise. She could feel the fire that lived here long before She felt it in her bones, and it was the same fire she felt that Rhaenyra had. Perhaps it was only in the name Targaryen, but perhaps it was much more than that.

Alicent approached the guards at the front entrance. “I am here to see Queen Rhaenyra,” she said plainly, even surprising herself by the address.

Each guard looked to each other deciding whether they would allow such a treachery to happen under their watch.

“I come unarmed and in need of confession in the late hour, I swear it.”

The guards took another look, even deeper this time. They studied her appearance; a light blue cloak with a hood to match, along with melancholy eyes. Against their better judgment, they let her through. Of course, this was not possible without the supervision of Rhaenyra’s own guard. He followed close behind and alerted another guard on watch that Queen Rhaenyra was expecting a visitor.

After completing the most daunting of their tasks, it was another struggle to weave through the castle. It proved well to have somewhat of a guide.

They reached a great room with a high ceiling. On the far side of the room was a tall staircase that led to another door. Alicent was asked to remain in the room and wait until prompted.

Rhaenyra prepared herself for whatever could be waiting beyond her quarters. A message delivered by raven could be waiting once again, news of Daemon, or anything that may cause her to lose even more sleep. What she did not expect was her childhood companion to be waiting on the other side.

As Rhaenyra followed her guard, she froze when she saw what was waiting for her.

“I had to see you,” said Alicent, moving closer across the room. Rhaenyra walked down the stairs, leaving Ser Lorent Marbrand.

“Who knows?” Rhaenyra asked.

“None save my protector. He laid down his sword at your gate.” Alicent’s voice was wavering with the weight of her regret. “I’ve been, I think…mistaken.”

Alicent explained the weight of the duty she had to carry all those years after Rhaenyra began to distain her. Her arms had been pulled in every direction possible, only finding moments to herself to indulge in the things that made herself happy.

Regardless of how she felt towards Alicent, Rhaenyra had changed. She was not the woman she was before. She was not the Queen she was before. She realized that now was the time for duty and honor, or so she thought.

Alicent explained that she had been wrongly led astray in her duties and priorities. She realized that there were very few times where she felt completely free, but she acknowledged now that her soul was peaceful. It was poor timing considering the realm’s current situation.

“I have been alone as of late. I walked outside the walls of the city and I felt a weight lifted from me,” she explained.

“How lovely for you,” Rhaenyra said, condescendingly.

“I thought, for the first time, what I would choose…if not for the duty I put before all else.”

Rhaenyra couldn’t help but chuckle at the sentiment. “Shall you cast your son down and rule alone?”

“No,” Alicent was quick to rebuttal. “I do not wish to rule, I wish to live. To be free of all this endless plotting and striving.

“The crown will pursue war and victory at any cost,” Rhaenyra sighed, hoping that Alicent was not naive enough to believe that she would be free of any repercussions.

“I…” Alicent began, “but as for me, I would take my daughter and her child and leave it all behind.

“It’s too late, Alicent,” Rhaenyra laughed.

Pathetic she was; Alicent that is. To think that after all this time she would be able to make freethinking decisions. She was entirely too deep into the war looming above their heads.

The hunger from selfish men could practically be smelled from miles away. There was no stopping their greed and desires now, not after the havoc that Alicent had caused.

“Oh, go then. Leave us behind, as you say.”

Alicent scoffed. “Rhaenyra.” Alicent walked away from Rhaenyra, almost as if she had given up on her original goal of coming to Dragonstone.

“Wander in the wilderness.”

Quickly, Alicent turned around facing Rhaenyra once again. “I came here to entertain you, or so I thought! Was it dim of me to believe that you may still have fondness in your heart for me? I see now that it was.”

“Alicent-”

“I came to ensure a way of peace, even at a price. I know the consequences of my actions and I will forever be reminded of them, but I want to make things right again. I knew your father well enough, and I was blinded by my own dignity and righteousness to see it was I who was mistaken; you have been the true heir.”

Rhaenyra was stunned by Alicent’s honesty. All this time she had taken her for a brainwashed fool, but it seemed that she had learned much in a short period.

“You do understand what this means and the allegations you just put out into the world? Your own son on the line, is that something you would live with?” Rhaenyra asked sincerely.

Alicent produced soft tears forming in the corner of her eyes. She knew the price she would pay for this treason, and yet she was willing to serve this sentence willingly.

“If I am to take the throne, I must put an end to the opposition. I must take Aegon’s head, and I have to do it for all to see. You know this. However you may try to evade it, you know this,” Rhaenyra explained.

Alicent’s tears grew and she held her head in her hands. She could not bear the thought of losing her own child, but the thought of throwing the entire realm into disarray because of his selfish decisions haunted her more. Both decisions could send her into deep despair, but which would bring peace to the masses?

“Choose,” Rhaenyra demanded. “Will you shrink from what you set out to do? Or will you see it through…and make your sacrifice? A son for a son.”

Both regents stared at one another with longing.

A son for a son. Rhaenyra knew the pain well, and casting this decision on another, let alone Alicent, was not made easily or even in good conscience. The thought itself made tears well in Rhaenyra’s eyes as well. They stared at each other and for once it seemed as if they shared each other’s pain. The pain of not only being a woman, but being a mother during these trying times they found themselves in.

Rhaenyra wiped away her tears. “You are much changed.”

“Let us be done with this, please,” Alicent begged.

“And what do I do with you now?”

“You let me go, to do what I promised. And you fly to the Red Keep in three days' time, and you take your throne. Or you take me a liar,” she scoffed. “I have neither weapon nor armor. My life itself is forfeit… I cast myself on the mercy of a friend who once loved me.”

Rhaenyra’s attention was pulled even more into focus at her words. “History will paint you a villain. A cold queen… grasping for power, and then defeated.”

“Let them think what they must. I am at last myself… with no ambition greater than to walk where I please and to breathe the open air. To die unremarked and unnoticed… and be free.”

Rhaenyra smiled fondly. “You speak as if from a distant dream.”

She could picture the two of them walking arm in arm across the courtyard to visit the Godswood as children. The distant dream was really a tried and true memory that was once loved by them both. They had missed each other so deeply but were afraid to admit it after Rhaenyra had felt so betrayed by her friend. Though, it was not Alicent’s fault at all as it was not her doing. It was simply another way for her father to gain the power and credibility he so longed for. Oh how the mighty have fallen.

Then, the energy in Rhaenyra’s chamber had shifted; it became lighter and hopeful. There suddenly was an air of forgiveness as well as an unidentified desire present that was yet to be seen.

“Come with me,” Alicent blurted. And so the mysterious desire became quickly apparent.

There seemed to be no decent answer that Rhaenyra could give Alicent that she could possibly muster in the moment. “And why should I do that?”

Alicent came closer. “Oh please, Rhaenyra. Why wouldn’t you?”

Rhaenyra looked down nervously, shuffling her feet. “I have my own duties, I have-”

“Would you please shed your act for one fleeting moment, I beg!” Alicent shouted, causing Rhaenyra to step back in utter shock.

Rhaenyra was taken aback by Alicent’s fury. She was angry now, but she did not quite know who she was angry at. More than likely it was herself that she was angry at, angry for being so blind all this time.

“I have not forgotten about the wish you so hopefully cast upon me that I declined against my better judgment.”

“May you remind me of this request?” Rhaenyra spat. Even though her tone was harsh, she felt fullness in her heart for the first time since she had all of her children surrounded in her presence.

“Back at the Godswood, when we were children,” Alicent said. “Oh, it sounds pathetic now, to think of the dreams we had when we were young. Alas, we were only children.”

“Yes,” Rhaenyra began, “we were.” She paused for a moment to gather her whereabouts, as well and dissect the assumptions that Alicent was alluding to. It was too early to be delving into such things, but Alicent had set out to do just that.

“A-at the Godswood,” Alicent moved closer, “do you remember what you once said?”

Rhaenyra was suddenly reminded of her words that she spoke as her head rested on Alicent’s leg. Additionally, Rhaenyra became frighteningly aware that the two of them were not alone.

Ser Lorent Marbrand stood near the stairs guarding the Queen in any attempt of harm. Rhaenyra waved him off.

“My Queen?” he pushed.

“You may go, Ser Lorent,” Rhaenyra demanded, but the guard stayed put. “You are dismissed!”

The guard left promptly after the Queen’s harsh display of dismissal. Rhaenyra waited until she heard the soft echo of his footsteps before continuing. She did not know exactly which direction this conversation may go, but based on the topics so far, it is one that she did not want others to be present for.

“Continue,” Rhaenyra said to Alicent.

“The words you spoke, your grace.” Rhaenyra was thoroughly shocked at the words that Alicent so carefully crafted. “You had said that-”

“‘I wanted to ride dragon back with you and explore the wonders far across the narrow sea,’” Rhaenyra finished.

“And eat only cake,” they both said in unison.

They remembered that time as if it had occurred only yesterday. They were children, friends, and enemies together. Secretly they hoped that they could be more.

“I cannot help but think, what if I would have agreed to those childish antics?” Alicent asked out loud.

“Why, after all this time have you decided to come crawling back?” Rhaenyra rebutted. “I would even argue that there has not been a more inconvenient time for such games!”

“This is not a game, Rhaenyra! Have I not poured myself out to you enough? What else would you have me do?”

They both paused to stare at one another. Rhaenyra stared deeply at Alicent, studying her expression and desire that she was so eagerly displaying in this moment. Alicent looked at Rhaenyra with the same childlike wonder that she once did. It was the same feeling, but also something brand new and foreign to both of them.

Rhaenyra walked away deeper into the room. She was looking for something she had stowed away a while before this that she thought might be of use. She walked back to Alicent with a slip of parchment in hand and held it out for her in hopes of taking it.

Alicent unfolded the small piece of parchment to reveal a ripped page of a book that she studied for a moment. She looked at Rhaenyra with her glassy expression.

“I assumed you had thrown it into the fireplace to let the flames engulf it,” Alicent said.

“I could not,” Rhaenyra shook her head. “Each time I found myself looking to it, I saw the happy memories of what once was.”

Alicent walked closer to Rhaenyra, causing her to shift in her place near the table. She had not come this close to Alicent since she disguised herself as a septa in order to make good with her, which did not bode well in the end.

Rhaenyra’s heart leaped when Alicent placed her hand atop of Rhaenyra’s. “We can restore those memories and be as we once were. I am sure of it,” Alicent said.

They looked in one another’s eyes to pinpoint the explanation of the longing they had been feeling the entire lonely night. “Let me set it right… please.”

Rhaenyra and Alicent never peeled their eyes away from each other in those fleeting moments. They stared so intently that Rhaenyra did not seem to notice that Alicent had taken her hand into her own, slowly raising it to her lips.

Alicent’s lips parted slightly as she brought them down to Rhaenyra’s hand. She left a gentle kiss upon the back of her hand, eyes never leaving the stars that gleamed within Rhaenyra’s eyes.

Rhaenyra could not wait any longer for the drawn out confession of her companion. She quickly placed her hand against Alicent’s flushed cheek, savoring the new warmth that she had been desiring for a decade.

“Oh, Alicent. We have been so blinded all this time,” Rhaenyra said, lovingly.

“I don’t believe we have been blind, only repressed from the things we truly wanted.”

Rhaenyra stroked Alicent’s cheek with her thumb, while also exploring extremely close to her lips. “How I have missed you.”

“Every light that guided me has been blown out since we have been apart. I always knew I would find my way back somehow,” Alicent explained.

Rhaenyra replaced her hand on Alicent’s cheek with her own lips. She could taste the heat radiating from Alicent’s skin, acting as motivation for her pleadings. Her lips moved closer to Alicent’s, but not without savoring each movement she made. Alicent sighed, her needs being fulfilled at last with the taste of Rhaenyra on her skin.

Alicent’s hands crawled to the back of Rhaenyra’s neck in hopes to guide her right where she wanted. To follow suit, Rhaenyra snaked her hands around Alicent’s bust to hold her close.

“It has been torture staying away from you these long years,” Rhaenyra whispered.

“And it is torture for me to watch you draw it out so,” Alicent whispered back, their lips almost touching. She waited for Rhaenyra to initiate their intimacy in hopes that Rhaenyra really did feel the same way she did.

Slowly, Rhaenyra lingered her parting lips over Alicent’s to graze each pair against each other. The breaths they took were shaky due to their built up nerves that started long ago. They yearned so much for one another that they were paralyzed with the realization that the moment they had waited for was here.

As if a mouse had spoken, Alicent spoke so softly. “I love you.”

“I loved you first,” Rhaenyra responded. “With all my heart.”

Rhaenyra broke the space between them with a kiss they had longed to share. Their kiss said more than they ever could to each other. It was a piece of them that became whole and healed again.

Both of them clawed at one another like rabid animals. Their hands were everywhere on their faces, their hips, their back, and spaces they never knew existed.

Their moans filled the air like a beautiful, intimate song. Rhaenyra tugged on Alicent’s long, curly hair, twirling it around her fingers as her lips moved against Alicent’s.

Alicent held Rhaenyra’s face in her hands as if it was the most precious jewel she had beheld. Her touch was gentle and loving. Alicent took her time to worship Rhaenyra just as she had been intending to do.

This was not near enough for Rhaenyra. She guided Alicent to the nearest wall to rest herself against. Rhaenyra pressed Alicent between the wall and her own burning body. Legends say that it took a special person to tame a dragon, but Alicent Hightower had Rhaenyra Targaryen wrapped around her finger.

Rhaenyra dug her nails into the side of Alicent’s neck while she left hot kisses along the side of her porcelain skin. There was barely skin left to touch by the time that Rhaenyra was done with Alicent.

Alicent had explored the most sensitive parts of Rhaenyra’s skin which elicited sensual responses each and every time. Her tongue was full of wonders as it snaked through Rhaenyra’s mouth and tangled within her own. They may savor the taste of each other for as long as they both roam the earth.

“Come with me,” Alicent hummed against Rhaenyra’s lips.

“And to where would we go?” Rhaenyra replied.

Rhaenyra felt Alicent smile against her lips, causing a roar of fire to be lit in her soul. “Anywhere, as long as it is with you, my Queen.”

“Mm, I could get used to that.” The words were like honey rolling off of her sweet lips. Rhaenyra could listen to her speak as long as she lived. “And what of the war? What shall we do with that?”

Their kissing ceased to exist for the moment which caused Alicent frustration. “Can we forget about that matter for the moment? The war will continue whether we are involved or not, you said it yourself. Bloodshed is inevitable.”

Rhaenyra studied Alicent’s face after she had spoken. There was an incessant need to be impulsive in her head which was frightening to her. She had never gone through those emotions, but there was a voice telling her to listen to the voice.

“Well, we had better get a move on then,” Rhaenyra said.

“You are quite serious?” Alicent laughed in disbelief.

“They say there is no time quite like the present, don’t they?”

And so, the two of them snuck around the darkened corridors of Dragonstone, weaving behind guards and avoiding questioning at all costs. Rhaenyra took Alicent down to the dragon pit for the first time. Syrax was Rhaenyra’s pride and joy, and it gave Rhaenyra great pleasure to fully show Alicent her world as she lived it.

Though Alicent had played her part in the Targaryen story, there was something incredibly profound about being in Dragonstone itself. Just like she had arrived, she could feel the furious energy down to the island’s bones. Real power had lived here for years and it was just getting started.

Playing a part in the Targaryen story took on a whole new meaning as the beginnings of a beautiful relationship bloomed between Rhaenyra and Alicent. They could sail and fly anywhere in the world, but home was such a pleasant place to start.

//

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[juyeonszn]

BLAH BLAH

PAIRING jacob bae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 2.17k

GENRES fluff ﹒suggestive

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DNI yk all that jazz, mature language, younghoon being stupid, one bed trope 🙀, jacob is shirtless….. that deserves its own warning tbh, reader also is topless at one point but not for the same reason, reader is down bad for cobie, dry humping ig idk if it really counts but i’m including it anyway, this is kinda tame tbh but,,, the tension is there i swear!!

SUMMARY you swore you would never make any physical contact with jacob bae ever again to protect your heart. what the hell are you supposed to do now that you’re sharing a room?

MORE HELLO!!! she is finished 😼 finished her up in a day im impressed with myself ANNSNW ANYWAYS this is a request from my 100 followers event! thank u again moni (@zzoguri) bae i hope u enjoy this 🫶🫶 prompts used are: 10, 12, 13 <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs

You know, you weren’t entirely expecting yourself to fall for Jacob Bae.

To be fair, it was very hard not to. From his infectious smile, to his genuineness, he was honestly the complete package. Even before you became friends, it was difficult to not fawn over the guy. You would see him across campus every now and then, laughing along with his friends or something of that nature, and you always felt a tiny ping in your heart.

Then came Eric Sohn and Kim Sunwoo’s annual back to school pool party.

Naturally, parties were the bane of your existence. You could never fully enjoy yourself, what with the clusters of people in one house and the strong scents of both alcohol and weed. However, one of your gal pals managed to convince you to tag along just to say you’d been to one of the infamous parties.

That was your first mistake.

Two hours into your eventual demise, you found yourself swishing around the contents of your red solo cup on the backyard patio, your friends having long disappeared. You were bored out of your mind with no one to talk to and now a near empty drink. A creak of the wooden boards behind you had you spinning around so fast you almost got whiplash.

Jacob Bae gives you a smile, stifling a laugh when you almost spill the last couple sips of your beverage. He sits himself beside you, sighing in either content or relief— to this day you’re still not sure.

“Hi, I’m Jacob,” he extends a hand towards you. “I saw you sitting out here and thought I’d introduce myself.”

Just like they say in the movies, the moment your skin comes into contact with his, there’s sparks. It’s like a jolt of electricity is running along your arm through your nervous system, shocking your brain. From that moment on, you made it a personal mission to never touch him again, out of fear it would happen every single time and you might do something extremely stupid.

Now here you are, ten months later and still just as whipped as you were day one.

Your friends dragged you on a little road-trip just to get away for a bit at the start of the summer. You were nervous thanks to the fact that a wheel spinner decided roommates and you got stuck with Jacob. If anyone asked, you’d say you were pretty good at pretending like you weren’t hopelessly in love with your friend. You looked at him normally, rather than with the want to rip his clothes off and go at it like bunnies.

“Jacob and Y/N sitting in a tree K-I-S-S— ow!” Younghoon rubs his arm where you’d just smacked him, pouting at you. “That hurt, what the fuck?”

“That was the point, bozo.” You roll your eyes, watching Jacob swimming around in the hotel pool. You hug your knees to your chest, resting your chin on top of them. How could someone make something so simple look so attractive?

Tonight would be a true test of faith, the ultimate challenge of whether or not you could truly resist Jacob Bae’s charms. Even if you’d stayed in the same house or same general vicinity, you always managed to dodge sharing a room. There were the few occasions you slept over at his and Sangyeon’s shared apartment, along with everyone else in your friend group. They’d both offered up their rooms for whoever wanted to bunk with them for the night since there wasn’t much room on the couches. You always picked the couch.

But there were no separate rooms keeping you apart this time. There was no couch. Just two beds and a couple feet between them. Oh God. You would be changing in the same room. Jacob Bae would be naked within your reach.

You blink away the thoughts creeping up from the back of your mind. You couldn’t have that mindset sharing a room with him. Couldn’t that be classified as immoral? Disrespectful? Your brain had to stay pure or you might not survive this trip at all.

“Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?” Younghoon asks with an amused lilt to his voice. You give him a nasty side eye in return.

“I might as well have. I hope I keel over and die right now so I can join them.” You huff, your head bobbing up and down as you talk thanks to your knees under your chin.

Younghoon snorts, standing to shake his hair like a dog would after a bath. “You’ll be fine, dude. It’s not that serious honestly. Just think of this as, um, a team bonding exercise.”

“You’re a fucking clown.”

After about another hour of swimming, playing chicken, and other pool activities of that sort, the boys decide to call it a night. Thankfully so, because you had a long day of sightseeing ahead of you tomorrow. You gather your things and part ways for your respective rooms. Some were on different floors than others; you and Jacob’s for example was on the top floor. You don’t know why, but the guys were insistent on swimming first, prior to checking out your rooms.

You waddle behind him like a lost puppy, following him to the elevator. The whole ride up is silent save for the soft lo-fi beat playing over the speakers. Jacob is still very shirtless, a towel tossed over his shoulder haphazardly. What was its purpose? Couldn’t tell you since there were still droplets of water decorating his back.

Good Lord, you needed to stop staring at him, lest you wanted to go into cardiac arrest.

Your feet padding against the carpeted flooring of the hallway is the only thing you can hear all the way to your room. You even watch sheepishly as he pulls out the keycard and holds it to the sensor. It quickly flashes green and he pushes open the door.

You’re too preoccupied gawking at his back muscles again to notice he’s stopped in his tracks, causing you to bump into him. He laughs that melodic laugh of his before turning around to steady you. You give him a weak smile in apology.

And then you see why he paused so abruptly.

“Oh no, there’s only one bed, what will we do now?”

You sputter at how nonchalant he is about the situation. You glance back and forth from him to the bed and repeat, sweat forming on your palms. It was already going to be hard enough just sleeping in the same room, now you had to sleep in the same bed? You wouldn’t be surprised if you were found dead tomorrow morning.

“W-We can talk to someone at the front desk? Maybe we can get things sorted out and get a room with two beds instead?” You avoid eye contact.

“It’s too late for that. Besides, we did book these at the last minute, so they probably gave us whatever they had available.” He shrugs. His attitude is kind of pissing you off. How could he be so calm right now?

“Well— uh— um— maybe—“ Your words falter as you struggle to come up with a solution. Jacob’s lips quirk up in amusement.

“Maybe you could use that mouth for more than just talking nonsense.”

You make a sound similar to choking, your eyes widening as you process what the hell he just said. You keep blinking at him, mouth parted in astonishment? Shock? Surprise? Bewilderment? Did Jacob Bae really just say that to you?

When you don’t respond for a bit of time, he heads to the bathroom to presumably shower. You’re glued to your spot, unable to move or think. Your head felt like it was hollow, full of cotton. You had to be imagining that entire interaction. That was the only thing that made sense.

Even as the water in the bathroom floods your ears, you’re still dazed. You drag yourself to sit on the edge of the bed, holding the back of your hand to your forehead. You were going insane. That was the logical explanation. Your feelings for Jacob had been stuffed away for so long that you were starting to hallucinate.

Yeah, that’s what you were going with.

You were much too delusional to handle seeing him come out of the bathroom, so you decided to change while he was in there and get ready for bed. You wanted to face the other direction to curve any possible chance of driving yourself crazier. You pull off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing over your swimsuit and dig through your duffle bag for some fresh clothes. You were grateful that you didn’t let your friends peer pressure you into actually swimming, your desire to keep a healthy distance between you and Jacob overpowering wanting to join in on the fun.

As you go to untie your swim top, the squeaky hinges of the bathroom door have you tripping over your own two feet. You didn’t exactly have the best reflexes either, so you fail at catching the strings before they can fall completely. At this point, you’re frozen. You’re planted face first on the floor, topless, with the boy you’ve been thirsting over for months just feet away.

Okay, so perhaps you underestimated how long it took him to shower.

“Y/N, are you— woah—”

“No, don’t come any closer!”

Of course you’re too late and he does not heed your warning. Jacob squats next to you and you can just feel his presence. To everyone else, it’s calming. He’s the person most people go to when they have any qualms about life. He was the definition of the therapist friend. However, that was not the case right now.

His presence was intimidating and your heart was hammering in your rib cage. It was practically beating against the floor. It wouldn’t be beyond you if they heard it in the lobby. You refuse to glance over at him. This couldn’t be happening. It was seriously one unfortunate event after another.

There’s a ghost-like, feather light touch that trails the length of your bare back, sending a shiver down your spine. Just like the first time, it’s like you’d been statically charged. It was as if Jacob Bae himself created electricity. A sigh leaves Jacob’s lips. “Can you look at me, pretty?”

This was something torn straight from one of your wildest dreams. His words, his actions, even the situation you were in. A singular bed that you’re forced to share. This could very well just be the universe’s way of finally giving you a win. Divine intervention did exist, after all.

A peek at Jacob’s form shows you that he’s in nothing but a towel, and it leaves little to the imagination. You swallow thickly. Your lack of cooperation has his patience wearing thin, so he takes matters into his own hands, holding himself up with said hands on either side of your head and straddling your waist.

You can feel him through his towel and the flimsy material of your swim bottoms. He’s hard, pressing into your ass like he’s the one who’s needed to have you in such a visceral way the past ten months. His sculpted chest rests on your back as he leans down, his lips coming beside your ear.

“Tell me you want me, tell me you want me as bad as I want you.” He breathes.

It’s enough motivation to flip yourself over despite being nude from the waist up. You don’t even care anymore, caution thrown into the wind. Your infatuation with Jacob Bae was already concerning, but now it was dangerous. You were getting extremely close to crossing the line you told yourself you’d never cross. But he made it so easy.

Your eyes rake his figure, from his chiseled torso that was handcrafted by the Gods to the way he unabashedly keeps his lower half pinned to yours. You almost salivate at how good this feels. But it’s not enough. You need him in ways that could only be described as carnal. You release a shaky breath when he experimentally grinds his hips.

He leans into you one more time, lips hovering your own and noses brushing. Just a few more centimeters. That’s all that it would take for him to kiss you, but he doesn’t. He flickers his eyes to yours and then back down, wetting his lips as he does so.

“Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”

You could’ve just spoken the words out loud, but instead you close the gap between you. Your mouths fit together perfectly, like a missing puzzle piece finally reuniting with its set. They glide in synchrony, your fingers coming up to tangle in his hair and run along the expanse of his toned back. He groans when your nails graze his skin. You both part to gasp for air, lips swollen.

“That works too.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[endthedream]

three sins to hell

pairing: devil!chenle x human!reader

summary: the devil, a creature so sinister he seduces humans into sins so he can have their souls in hell.But if you’re his next target, what would you do? Would you even notice that the devil is standing right in front of you?

words: 10k

story colour: orange

warnings: vulgar language, toxicity, manipulation, heavy makeout/almost smut (nothing happens tho)

note: I hate this story with a passion, but I didn't have the nerve yet the time to rewrite it again. I hope you can still somewhat enjoy it. It's my halloween story (a few days too early). I will try to get something out on Halloween as well, but I can't make any promises. Hope you guys are doing well! Feel hugged~

masterlist of ‘nct dream as supernatural creatures‘

You have known of the existence of the devil, have heard stories about him when you grew up. Warnings, wherever you go. ‘Don’t go near the devil. He will suck out your soul and bane you to an eternity of hell and misery.’ People would tell you stories about him, how he seduces men and women to doing sins, how he hides among the common folk, how easily he gets into your head. They called him the fallen angel, who was banned to ruling over hell for his sins. Some say he is a frightening, red creature with three heads and a mouth with teeth so sharp they can break through any bones. Some say he is a demon with wings and horns, and a tail so long and sharp he will pierce through your heart. But some also say he is a man, a very handsome one. He was once an angel graced with an eternity of beauty; hell couldn’t change that as well. They say the reason why he is able to seduce so many people is because of his piercing beauty, his sharp features and hypnotizing eyes. They say that one look from him and you’re gone, fallen into a pit of longing, no matter how pure you swear to be.

You heard so many stories, got told so many warnings and still you found yourself not believing those words. You found yourself thinking it was all just a tale, trying to make you scared to keep you in control. But you were never one to believe in fairy tales, never one to look for the truth in them.

But all this changed. All this changed when you looked the devil right into his eyes.

-

There is something in the air this morning, something different. You can feel it filling up your body, clouding your senses. You take a deep breath of the fresh morning air, before grabbing the straps of your backpack and beginning your walk to school. It isn’t far from your home, just about six minutes, but you like to take those few moments to be grateful for everything you have. You go over it, over and over again, in your head. ‘I’m grateful for the roof over my head, the food in my stomach, the friends that I have, the clothes that I wear, all the luxury items I have at home and every single day that I live on this planet, protected and healthy.’

It is something you like to do to remind you that nothing in this life is given, nothing in life is permanent. Some people don’t have a house, or food, or clothes. It keeps you on your toes, never lets you stray away or complain about unimportant things. It keeps you down to earth.

“Y/n.”, you can hear your best friend Jisung, calling your name and see him sprinting in your direction. “There you are. I was starting to get worried about you. You are always on time.”

“On time?”, you ask confused as you look at the time on your watch. It’s five minutes before class starts. Five minutes? Normally you are always here ten minutes before it starts, never five. But you walked the same path you always do every single morning, you left at the same time you always do. How come you arrived five minutes later than normally? Something is weird, you felt it this morning when you left your house. Something is definitely weird.

-

You almost fell asleep three times in class today, which isn’t like you. You are a straight A student, with a perfect attendance record. You don’t sleep in class; you pay attention and write notes. You ask questions and answer the teachers’ questions. You don’t fall asleep, that is not like you.

“Ms. Lee.”, your teacher says, a sympathetic look on her face. “I have seen you doze off three times today and I must say this genuinely surprised me. You are my ace student, Miss. I have never seen you like this, so I wanted to tell you if you have anything in your heart, or if there is anything that is bothering you, private or in school, you can always talk to me, okay? You don’t have to go through this alone.”

-

“Wait so she really offered you therapy hours?”, Jisung says, amusement lingering in his voice. You shake your head at the boy, opening the main doors and walking out of the school. All you want to do now is to get home as fast as possible and forget all about this awful day. You want to drown yourself in your books and studies and wake up the next morning to your normal routine again.

“You are so funny, Jisung.” Said boy ignores the roll of your eyes and the annoyance in your tone, and bumps your shoulder with his, showing you a sheepish grin.

“Come on, princess. I didn’t mean it like that. Everyone has a bad day every once in a while, even you little Miss perfect.”

“I am not little Miss perfect.”, you protest, crossing your arms and showing Jisung a pout. He just laughs at you, ruffling your hair in an adoring manner.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you the person who follows a strict routine every single morning? Aren’t you the person that volunteers at every event, helping the poor and caring about the ones who are lost? Aren’t you the person who goes over a list of things she is grateful for just to stay down on earth and never take things for granted? Sounds like little Miss perfect to me.”

“First of all, a routine is good for your mental health. It gives you stability, helps you stay organized and clears your head. Second, I like helping people in need and volunteering in places where they need someone. It’s better than playing video games every single day.” Now it’s Jisungs’ time to roll his eyes at your words. “And lastly, I just see so many horrible things every single day. So much agony, pain and suffering, I just want to remind myself that having luxurious things is not a normal thing and that I should always be grateful for being born into a family that doesn’t have to turn every penny twice and fear they won’t make it out alive until next week.”

You can see Jisungs’ mouth open and close a few times, contemplating what to say to your words, but right when he feels ready to answer, someone clearing their throat interrupts you.

“I’m sorry I don’t want to interrupt your nice talk, but I’m looking for someone named Y/n.” Jisung and you turn around almost immediately, looking like dears caught in a headlight. A boy is standing in front of you, hair a bright orange. He is wearing all black, black ripped jeans, black shirt, black leather jacket and black shoes. A smile is present on his lips, well more like a smirk, his posture is straight with his head held high. He is oozing with confidence, oozing with something you can’t name. And he looks, well, breathtaking. He looks like came straight down from heaven, like he was created by God himself. He simply doesn’t look real.

“Uhm, that’s me.”, you speak up, voice breaking with those two words. You have to clear your throat a few times, ignoring the teasing look Jisung is giving you. “How can I help you?”

“I just transferred here, and the principal said you would show me around school tomorrow. I just thought I would search for you and introduce myself already.” The stranger softly takes your hand in his, but instead of shaking it, he places a soft kiss on the back of your hand, showing you a charming smile afterwards. “My name is Chenle. It is very nice to meet you.”

There is something in his aura, something about the way he talks, the way his eyes bore into yours, that makes your heart skip a beat. “It’s, uhm, very nice to meet you too.”

It is like Chenle can sense the effect his simple presence has on you by the way his head cocks to the side and cockiness takes over his whole face. “How about we meet here in our lunch break and then you can tell me all about the school, and you, of course.” You can’t do anything but nod at the suggestion, suddenly losing the ability to form sentences with your mouth. “Wonderful. Till tomorrow then.” And with one last smile in your direction, he walks away, turning his back and leaving you and Jisung alone yet again.

“Well, that was… weird.” Your friend just mutters, shrugging his shoulders before grabbing your arm and pulling you in the other direction. “But as I said, you are way to tedious…”

-

Chenle is already waiting for you at one of the tables outside of the school. It seems like nothing has changed from yesterday, he is wearing the same clothes. His orange hair stands out in the crowd, earning stares which he just ignores. Because the moment you step out of the door, his eyes are on you, and only you. He doesn’t pay attention to the girls a few tables from him who are giggling and yearning for just one look, he only looks at you.

“Just be careful.”, your best friend says as he walks you out. “I have a bad feeling about him. I mean, he didn’t even look at me once yesterday. He is weird. I heard some rumors about him. They say he was in prison in China and broke out two months ago. Some say his father is in some kind of gang and they earn their money with human trafficking. Some even call him the devil. I just don’t want you to get into whatever weird thing he is in.”

“Jisung.”, you call say his name, looking up at him with stern eyes. “He is new and needs help around school, that’s all. He is not in a gang; he did not escape from prison, and he is definitely not the devil. Stop feeding into cruel rumors and give him a chance. And even if you don’t want to give him a chance because you have a bad feeling about him, then don’t. No one is forcing you to be friends with him, just don’t be one of those judgy people, okay?”

Jisung sighs, throwing his head back with a groan and rubbing his forehead with one hand. “You are right, I know that I’m just worried about you, that’s all. Be careful, okay? And you remember our codeword, right? Just scream it or text it or send an owl, I don’t care.”

You smile at him, wrapping him in a quick hug. “Don’t worry, I will. See you in thirty minutes.” And without one last glance you walk in Chenles’ direction, showing him a small smile and a wave.

“Hey.”, you say as you stop in front of him. “Are you ready to take a tour through the school?” Chenle looks down at you, eyeing you for a few seconds before nodding his head at you and following you into the school.

-

“I’d rather hear more about you.”, Chenle says as he stands in the middle of the gymnasium. “I don’t care about the boring stories of how this school was founded. Tell me something about you. Something fun.”

“Fun?”, you ask him, playing with the page of the school map between your fingers. “I’m not really fun. I don’t think anything about me would interest you.”

“I beg to differ. What do you do in your free time? How does a pretty girl like you spend her day?” You have to swallow the lump in your throat and hide the evident blush on your cheeks. This hasn’t been the first time Chenle has flirted with you today. He used every opportunity, every small timeframe to throw in a comment that has you blushing and clearing your throat in embarrassment.

“I don’t do much. I read or study after coming home from school. Sometimes I spend the evening with Jisung, but he plays video games most of the time, so I end up reading anyway. Sometimes I volunteer at social events, at the church or for any person that needs help in that moment. I like to help people, makes me feel a bit better for living such a privileged life.”

There it is, Chenle thinks. There it is again; the pureness he felt the moment he laid eyes on you. The innocence, so evident he could smell it from miles away. He wanted you, from the moment he laid his eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. He just has to corrupt you; make you do all the awful things in the world and drain you dry until there is nothing but pure evil running in your veins anymore. He has to destroy you, absolutely and utterly destroy you.

-

You didn’t expect to run into a familiar face while grocery shopping for your elderly neighbor. But Chenle stands right there, right in front of the apples. One hand picking up a green one, admiring its shine against the shining lamps, the other in his pocket, casually resting there. Normally, you would have turned around, walked to another aisle and ignored the strange boy, if it wasn’t for the bright red ink on the paper sheet in your hand reading ‘green apples’. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath before walking to where the orange-haired boy is standing.

“What a pleasant surprise.”, Chenle says the moment he spots you. “Are you stalking me? Not able to get enough of me, huh?” You show him a pointed look, grabbing one of the apples, inspecting it and softly laying it in your basket.

“No, believe it or not, but I am also grocery shopping.” A sound escapes the boy’s throat, almost sounding like a choked chuckle. He grabs another apple, following your movement before placing it in your basket as well.

“For yourself?”, he asks, ignoring your confused stare.

“No, for my neighbor. She recently had lumbago and is on bed rest. I’m just getting her some things she needs, since her children are out of town until tomorrow.” Chenle feels it again, this need, this heart wrenching need, to break you, to make you do things you would never dream of doing. It overwhelms him for a second, blinds him and consumes his veins. He has to find a way, some way, to fulfill his desires. And it is as if it hits him with a brick on his head, that he got just the right idea to make you carve into him.

Sin 1: Wrath

Jisung talks your ear off as the two of you run side by side in gym class, something about last night’s game and how he lost to a twelve-year-old online player. You try to pay attention, you really do, but the piercing gaze of Chenle sitting on a bench is distracting you. Ever since your encounter at the grocery store something about Chenle has changed. Something about the way he was looking at you. It almost seems like he is craving you like a bloodlust lion craves its prey. It scares you a bit, if you are being honest with yourself, but you can’t help but to be intrigued by him.

You can’t explain it, can’t grasp the concept with your bare hands. It confuses you, plagues you, keeps you up at night. He hasn’t made a move anymore, hasn’t tried talking to you again. It’s like he is waiting for you to come to him, to approach him. It’s like the lion changed his tactic, waiting for his prey to step closer, fascinated by the lion’s presence, before making a move and eating the prey alive.

“Are you even listening?”, Jisung says, voice evident with hurt. “I have been pouring my heart out for the last ten minutes and you don’t even listen to me. What kind of best friend are you?”

“I’m sorry, Jisung.”, you tell him, honestly. “I’m not really concentrated today. Everything is distracting me and it’s like I fell face first to the ground and I can’t get up.”

Upon the whistle of your coach, all of you stop running, walking to your water bottles and hastily taking sips. “I know, I’m sorry. I noticed you were acting kind of off today and I still kept talking about all of my worries without even asking about yours. I’m the bad friend, sorry.”

“No, you’re not, Sungie. I love listening to you and all your stories, don’t apologize for it. Today is just a rough day, and I want it to be over really bad.”

“You’ve been having a lot of bad days lately.”, your best friend remarks, worry lacing his voice. “Are you sure there is nothing wrong at home? Maybe you are just burned out from all your studying, and you need to take a break. How about we drive down to the beach over the weekend. It will help your mind to clear a bit.”

Normally you would hate this idea, not wanting to waste the weekend lying on a beach instead of studying for your upcoming tests, but with everything going on lately, you don’t think it’s a bad idea. You haven’t been feeling like yourself in a while, fog clouding your brain whenever you just try to sit down and read a book. Maybe a little trip away from everything will help you get back on track and be your old self again.

“You know what.”, you say, looking up at the boy in front of you with a bright smile. “I think that is a great idea.”

“Oh yes.”, Jisung jumps up and down a few times, excitement filling the young boys’ body. “This is going to be the best trip you will ever be on; I promise.”

-

Chenle leans against the hood of his car, waiting for you to come out of school. He has done this a million times, successfully. There wasn’t once that he failed, that he strayed behind. This is his job, his repute. He was born to do this and nothing else. But never once, never once in the years he is alive, has he crossed someone so pure, someone so good. There was a little bad in everyone, a little temptation, a little sin. Everyone did something bad, everyone had that part in them, that longing to commit a sin. But not you. You are so good. There is not one single part of you that seems evil. And that has made you become his most desired hunt.

Chenle doesn’t just want you, he needs you. He craves you. Your soul, your body, everything. He wants to break you, make you become the worst version of yourself. He wants to be the reason why you sin, not only once. Oh, no. It will take a few sins to make up for all the goodness you brought into this world. And he will watch you do them. Every single one of them. And he will thrive in the feeling of all the goodness draining your body, of the evil ruining your soul.

He will enjoy every single second of it.

Chenle watches as you smile at your friends. He watches as you bid goodbyes to every single one of them with a hug. And he decides then and there that it’s the first thing he wants you to lose.

“Chenle. Hi. Is everything okay?”, you ask him as he walks up to you. In his presence you change, he can feel it. Your body goes stiff, your eyes wide and alarming and your heart starts to beat faster than it normally does. And he loves the effect he has on you.

“Actually. No.” As you see the sadness in his eyes, alarms ring inside your brain. You have never seen him like that. You have never seen him express any other emotion than confidence, cockiness. And it immediately worries you. “I have this problem. And I wanted to come and talk to you. You know, you’re the only person I talked to so far and I think I can trust you the most with this issue.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. You can talk to me. I will try to help you with it.” He has you now, he thinks. Of course, he knew you wouldn’t turn down the opportunity of helping someone who desperately needs you. How could you live with yourself knowing you couldn’t help Chenle? You would do anything to help him, right? That’s who you are. That’s what you do.

“There have been some people talking about me behind my back, making up rumors about me. And while I act like I don’t care it actually really gets to me. You know the only thing I want is to fit in. I just came here, and all these rumors are making it hard for me to make friends. Everyone is scared of me, while all I want is for the people to like me.”

He can see it, right there, your face changing. Sympathy overtakes your features, and he can feel it spreading through your whole body. “Oh, Chenle that is awful. How can I help you with it? Do you want me to talk to those people?”

“That’s were it gets a bit tricky.” Chenle stops for a second, looks down at the ground, biting his lower lip nervously. “Your friends started these rumors. They were the ones who said I escaped from prison, and that I am a drug dealer. They were the ones who started calling me the devil.” Tears fill his eyes, and the sight breaks your heart. He sniffles, once, twice, before he continues. “They said I scared my family away, that they left me because I am so terrifying. I don’t get it, Y/n. I really don’t. I am not the most social person, I know that. I have been taking the time observing people more than actually talking to them and I know that can seem a bit scarry, but I am not a bad person. They haven’t even given me a chance to prove myself. They judged me without knowing me.” Chenle wipes one stray tear away from his eye, looking at you with pain in his face. “All I wanted was a chance.”

A feeling you never felt before enters your body. Is it rage? Is it anger? No, you are pretty sure it is wrath. Your friends, the people you trust, the people you grew up with. How could they treat a person like this? You knew about the rumors, all the things’ people were saying about Chenle, but hearing your own friends were the ones making all this up, makes you want to scream at them. Your parents taught you to surround yourself with people like you, kind and honest people, with people that respect others and show love to every soul, even the lost ones. You really thought they were like you, but you were wrong. You were wrong about them.

“Are you okay?”, Chenle asks, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. You look at him and see the tear stain still evident on his cheek. You see his glassy eyes; his slightly trembling lips and you knew you had to do something about this. You had to make them stop.

“Yes.”, you answer him, taking a few calming breaths. “Don’t worry Chenle. I will fix this. I will make them stop saying all these mean things about you.” With that you take off, walking to the back of the school. You know they hang out there after school is over, talking and studying together. And it is where you find them right now as well.

“Hey, Y/N. What are you doing here? I thought you went home already?” Looking at them, hearing them talk and laugh, it makes you sick. How can they sit there and act so nonchalant when they just hurt a person with their made-up rumors? How can act so innocent when they have the devil inside of them?

“Well, I came back because I just had an interesting conversation with someone.” The girls give you an usure look, all confused at the angriness in your voice. You don’t try to hide how you’re feeling, how upset and disappointed you are. You don’t try to hide the obvious wrath on your face.

“Okay? I am a bit confused. Why exactly are you telling us that?” It’s a simple question. A simple sentence. But it makes your blood boil.

“I ran into Chenle, and he told me something about you.” There are a few seconds of silence, and you watch as the girls look at each other, some confused, some with a knowing look. “He told me that you were the ones that made up those rumors about him. You made up lies about a person you don’t even know, a person you didn’t even give a chance to introduce himself. I know that he can seem a bit creepy, and distant, but that doesn’t give you the right to be so cruel to him. That doesn’t give you the right to act like stuck up bitches.”

“Y/n, what are you talking about? That doesn’t sound like you.” You just scoff, anger and frustration filling your body. You have never felt that way before, like you were about to explode, like you couldn’t control yourself anymore. And while it scares you a bit, you also never felt more powerful, more secure.

“Not like me, huh? Well, I thought the same about you. I thought I could trust you, count on you. I thought you were nice girls, raised to treat everyone with kindness. God, I thought you were like me. But, oh, was I wrong. You are all just insecure little girls who gain satisfaction in bringing other people down, in seeing them fall.”, you scream at them, not caring who can hear you. Your hands are shaking, your body is trembling. But you don’t care, you just go on. “You are so pathetic, a disgrace to humanity. You know how much you hurt that poor boy? He cried in front of me, because of you. You were the reason why he couldn’t make friends, why he never had the chance to fit it. People like you are the once that put shame on our society. You are the kind of people my mom always warned me about. Backstabbing, stuck up, insecure little girls. I should have never trusted you, be friends with you. God, I hope one day you will wake up and regret all this. One day you will pay for what you did, for your disgusting behavior. I hope that one day, one day… one day…” Your voice flatters, your vision goes blurry.

You feel two arms wrap around you, panic floods through your body until you hear the familiar voice of your best friend. “Hey, it’s okay. Just relax. It’s all going to be okay.”

The world starts spinning, your head starts throbbing. You can’t take this anymore, this pain, this stress. And shortly before the world goes black you see Chenle, standing on the sidelines with a grin on his lips.

Sin 2: Envy

“You’re sure he wasn’t there?”, you ask Jisung as you watch the waves crash against the shore. The setting sun glows brightly over the ocean, painting your face in a beautiful rosy color. The sand under your feet cools your body from the heat of the day. You watch as a caterpillar moves over the bumpy surface, hurrying back to his home to take a rest during the cold night.

“No, Y/n. Chenle wasn’t there when you passed out. He wasn’t anywhere near, believe me. I watched him walk home two minutes before I caught you in my arms, I swear.” You let out a sigh, closing your eyes as the soft evening breeze hits your hot face. Everything about that day is a blur, a fever dream. You don’t remember a lot. Everything is a haze. You barely remember talking to Chenle or screaming at the girls or fainting shortly after. Everything is blurred memories; no clear picture comes to your mind. But the only thing you remember clearly, like it’s burned into your brain, is seeing Chenle right before your vision went black. You remember his grin, his triumphant grin, like he just won a prize he has always wanted. It makes no sense that he wasn’t there when that is the only thing you can actually remember.

“Are you ready to talk about what happened that day?”, Jisung asks carefully, adjusting his position on the itchy sand. You haven’t avoided that subject, it’s just that you aren’t sure what’s happened. You aren’t sure why you reacted the way you reacted or why you felt the way you felt. This has never happened to you before and you are simply… lost.

You don’t know who that was that screamed at your own friends, but that wasn’t you. And it scares you to know what you are capable to do, scared at the lengths you can go. You barely managed to get the girls to except your apology. They were so shocked and hurt by your words, they didn’t even know if they wanted to forgive you. But they did. They also apologized, explained their side. They told you they didn’t start the rumors, but they also did nothing to stop them. They spread them just like everyone else and for that they’re sorry. But that day will always be hunting your friendship. It will always be there, day after day. And while they forgave you, you don’t know if you will ever forgive yourself for it.

“I told you already Jisung, I don’t know what happened. It’s all a daze, and it’s confusing. And hurts by brain just trying to think about it.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to think about it, Y/n.” Jisung shows you an encouraging smile, one hand softly taking yours. “It’s all going to be okay again. Let’s just enjoy the rest of our trip and forget about all this for a while.”

-

Chenle has been sitting with you at lunch for the past couple of days. Jisung is too busy at football practice, and Chenle took the opportunity of catching you alone. It’s mostly silent between you two- which you appreciate a lot- but when you’re talking, the conversation doesn’t seem to stop.

“You are telling me you have not watched the movie Tangled, the best Disney movie to ever exist?” Chenle shakes his head, earning a gasp to escape your lips. “How couldn’t you? I mean it’s such a life changing movie. Wait, tell me you have at least read Romeo and Juliet?” You are met with another shake of Chenles’ head. “Romeo and Juliet? Shakespear? Not ringing any bell? Wow, where do you come from that you don’t know those things?”

Chenle shrugs, taking a bit off his sandwich, chewing it cautiously before answering your question. “Well, we don’t really focus on books or movies where I come from. It’s considered a waste of time. Something that doesn’t bring you far in life.”

“That’s… so wrong. Movies and books teach you so many valuable lessons about life. I mean, Disney movies, for example, shaped me when I was a little girl. And with books you can gather so much knowledge, you can improve your imagination. They give you a chance to forget everything that happens in the world, even if it’s just for a few minutes. It’s really calming, reading I mean.”

“Well, how about I can come over to your place and you can show me that movie and that book, and I can judge for myself how good they really are.”

“I would love to, but my parents don’t allow boys in my room. I mean, not even Jisung is allowed to come into my room, and I’ve known him since I was five.” When you see Chenles’ face after your words, you start feeling bad. You can’t change your parents’ strictness, and you definitely can’t sneak Chenle into your house somehow. That would not end well, and you would break your parents’ rules. You were never one to do that, never one to disobey your parents. You couldn’t live with yourself had you gone behind your parents’ back to do something.

Chenle looks down at his hands in his lap, eyes sad like those of a puppy. It breaks your heart, yet again. It makes you long for him, long to make everything right, to cure all his pain, to change whatever is the reason behind his sadness. You let out a sigh, one hand nervously tucking your hair behind your ear. “But what about we meet at the local bookstore? I can recommend you books and tell you a bit about them. How those that sound?”

Chenle looks up at you, a smile lightening up his features. You can’t help but to match his energy, showing him one of your bright smiles as well. “That would be wonderful, Y/n. I’m picking you up later at 4.”

“But…”, but before you can say anything, Chenle has already packed his things together, hastily walking out the door. You sit there, dumbstruck, heart racing and mind spinning in circles. You ignore the fluttering in your chest, the weird churning in your belly. You ignore the lightheaded feeling, the blush on your cheeks. You simply ignore it, because if you ignore it, it isn’t there. It isn’t real.

But it’s all going according to plan, Chenle thinks. Everything is going according to plan.

-

Chenle has a book in his one hand and a coffee in another while you explain him the story about the book ‘To kill a Mockingbird’. He’s not listening, nodding when needed and humming when it feels necessary. He spends his time looking around, scanning people for familiar faces, waiting patiently for someone to arrive. Before he spots who he was looking for.

“But I think you should definitely read it. It’s one of the most important books on this planet. I think everyone should read it at least once.” You finish your ramble, placing the book in Chenles’ bag, before looking back at your list. “The next book is Moby-Dick. A classic in my opinion. Another book that everyone should have read at least once. You know I’ve watched a theater play of this book.” You are met by another hum, probably the 20th you received in a matter of seven minutes. “Are you even listening?”

“Yeah, sure, of course I am listening. Moby-Dick. Classic.”

“You know, you were the one who asked me to show you books, but if you’re not going to listen, then I will just leave.” You want to get up, but before you do, your gaze shifts into the direction Chenle is staring at. Lee Nuri is sitting a few tables away from you, a book in her hands. You know her from school, talked to her only a handful of times, but you never paid close attention to her. She is gorgeous, unmistakably, but she doesn’t run in the same circle as you do. “Were you staring at Nuri this whole time?”

“Nuri? That’s her name?”, Chenle asks, eyes not meeting yours even just for a second. And you ignore how upset that makes you feel. “I wondered what beautiful name such beautiful girl could have.”

A scoff threatens to leave your lips, but you swallow it before it comes out your mouth. You pack your bag together, ready to leave Chenle behind in the bookstore before he continues. “I mean look at her, she is glowing. Her skin looks so soft, and her hair so silky, don’t you think?” He looks at you, just for a millisecond, before focusing his gaze again on her. “Her legs are so long and smooth, her short skirt only empathizes that. Her body is perfect, look at her waist, what an hourglass figure. I bet so many girls are jealous of her. And she has such plump and pink lips, I guarantee you she’s a phenomenal kisser. Oh, what she could do with those lips. Her eyes, man, they are so big and round, makes her look so desirable, right? It’s almost like God took his time crafting her to perfection, to create a temptation to every person on this planet.”

Something inside of you shuts off, completely. You don’t work anymore. You can’t speak, can’t feel, can’t breathe. Your mind is blank, wiped clean, empty, expect for the blinking white light behind your eyes. Dizziness takes over your whole body, stops in your head and makes a home there. Everything is a blur, a daze. It’s almost like a déjà-vu, like something hidden deep inside your memory.

“Are you okay? You’re so pale.” You hear a voice, but you don’t know who is talking to you. You don’t know if that person is right in front of you or five feet away. You don’t know anything anymore. “I’m taking you home.”

-

You stare into the mirror, deep and long, seeing your bare self in front of you. You don’t know how you got home, when you took your clothes off or why you started staring at yourself. But you do it anyway. You observe every single part of your body, judging it. You take the flesh of your skin in your hands, moving it, adjusting it, never being satisfied with how it sits on your body. Your hips could be smaller, your legs longer, your lips fuller, your eyes bigger. You could be taller, skinnier, prettier. You could be so many things, so many things Nuri already is.

You know that this isn’t you. You wouldn’t pick yourself apart. You wouldn’t sink into this envy, into this jealousy. But you haven’t been you in a while now, haven’t felt real in a long time. You feel it sinking in, this need to be her, to have what she has. You let the envy sink it. No longer grateful for what you have, for what you are. You want what makes her so attractive to Chenle. You want her long eyelashes, her red lips, her curves, her long fingers, her clear skin. You don’t care about the things you have, the things that make you beautiful.

There is a scream inside of your head, a voice that repeats itself over and over again. It multiplies, getting louder and louder and louder.

Be grateful.

Be greedy.

Love yourself.

Love what she has more than what you have.

Don’t care about others’ opinions.

Impress Chenle, be what he desires to be.

You want him to look at you the way he looked at Nuri. You need him to want you, crave you, desire you. He can’t find her more attractive than you, he simply can’t. Your jealous of his attention on her, of his gaze wandering off; his thoughts not belonging to you. You’re jealous of her grace, her captivity, her beauty. You need to be her if that’s what it takes. Whatever it costs you, whatever it makes you do.

When you look up again into the mirror, Chenle is standing behind you, a grin on his lips again. It robs your breath, crushes your soul into two. It brings burning tears to your eyes, a broken heart. He doesn’t look at you, not really, not how you want him to. He stares straight into your eyes, his gaze never once straying.

“Am I not enough for you?”, you ask, screaming into the void. “Am I not desirable enough? Sexy enough? Pretty enough? Is my body not good enough for you to look at? Would you rather look at Nuri, huh?” You don’t get an answer, but you wait anyway. You stare back at him, tears uncontrollably streaming down your face. “What can I do, Chenle? Tell me. What can I do to be enough for you? I will do anything. Anything it takes. I want you. I need you. Please don’t look at Nuri anymore, please just look at me.” You watch as Chenles’ grin never leaves his lips. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. He just silently watches you lose yourself. He watches you break, and he seems to enjoy it.

“You’re sick you know that? Watching a girl begging you, crying her heart out and still you say nothing. Still, you choose to be quiet, enjoying this sight. Is that what gets you off, huh?” Your voice gets louder and louder by the second, raw with emotion. “Please, just look at me. Speak to me. Say anything.” Nothing. “I will make you want me, Chenle. You will look at me the way you’re looking at Nuri. I promise, I will become everything you’ve ever dreamt of.”

There is hope glimmering in your eyes, stupid, dangerous, hope. “We belong.”, you say, voice just a bare whisper. “I know that. Because since you’re here, I’m different. You did something to me. I don’t know what it is, but you did something. You have that power and you used it on me. You talked to me first. You stared at me first. You want me, and you know it. You wouldn’t be standing here if you didn’t.” You laugh, hysterically, like you already lost your mind. “You want me.”

Another pause, another silence. You sniffle, lifting your hands to furiously wipe the tears away from your face, rubbing your eyes.  And when you open them again, regaining your vision, Chenle is gone. He disappeared, like he was never there in the first place, and you’re fully dressed from head to toe in the same clothes you wore earlier.

Sin 3: Lust

Heavy eyebags surround your eyes, exhaustion written all over your small quivering frame. But the familiar feeling of determination fills your body as you hold the Halloween Party flyer in your hands with a written note saying ‘Pick you up at five. Dress nicely.’. This could be your chance, your chance to keep the own promises you made.

You have been ignoring Jisung, the girls, Nuri. Everyone, if you’re being honest with yourself. Nothing has been worth your time, not listening to Jisungs’ endless rambles, not watching the girls Cheerleader practice, not reading a book, or studying for all your tests. It’s not important anymore, not worth your thoughts. There is one thing, and one thing only, in your mind written in bold red letters, engraved into your brain. Chenle. Nothing more. Just him and his orange hair, his seductive grin, his black outfits. Just him and his words, replaying over and over and over again inside your mind, reminding you what to fight for, what to live for, or to die for.

“Y/n. Stop walking away from me. What is wrong with you?” There is a voice calling for you, behind you, but you don’t pay any attention to it. You continue your walk home, thoughts of what to wear, how to look the best. “Stop.” A hand grabs your arm, and you flinch, turning around to see your best friend, no Jisung, standing in front of you. He is wearing his practice clothes, sweat dripping down his forehead. He looks frustrated, desperate.

“I don’t have time, Jisung. I have to go home.” You try to walk again, but his grip on your arm doesn’t budge and it irritates you. Why can’t he just let you go? Can’t he see that you have something more important to do, a duty to fulfil?

“No, you’re going to stay and you’re going to tell me what is wrong with you.” And it is then in that moment that you realize what’s wrong. That you know why he looks so desperate. “Y/n, please just tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you in any way? If I did, please tell me. All I want to do is make it up to you again, be friends again. Y/n I don’t want to lose you, please just tell me what’s wrong.”

You look at him, long and deep, before a sigh slips past your lips. There is no other way around this. “God, if I knew you were so clingy, I wouldn’t have become friends with you.” Silence. Long, dreadful silence. Jisungs’ mouth is hung open, his eyes wide. He can’t believe his ears.

“What…? What did you just say?” Jisung already starts talking again before you can repeat your words. “Y/n, that’s not you speaking. I don’t what happened to you, what made you turn into this. But that’s not you. You are loving and sweet and kind. This is not you. For god’s sake, you told me you love it when I’m clingy, that it makes you feel needed. You told me those exact words.”

You sigh, yet again, taking the moment to remove your arm from Jisungs’ grip. “Maybe this is who I always was, not who everyone wanted me to be. I know this is hard for you, Jisung, but you have to accept it. You have to accept the fact that I will never love you the way you love me.”

Jisung chokes on his own spit, eyes almost falling out of his body. “You… you know?”

“I think I’ve always known. But I don’t love you, Jisung. I never will. And I feel honored, really, but this won’t work out. So just accept it, move on. It’s for the better.”

“But I can’t move on, Y/n. Not after everything, not after our trip together. I love you, and I want you to be in my life, even if it is just as my best friend. You can’t do this to me. I won’t let you.” Jisung is trembling, head shaking left and right over and over again, desperation in his eyes. But it doesn’t work. You don’t feel bad for him, you don’t care. You care about one thing only.

“What happened on that trip was a mistake. I never should have kissed you.” But you did, and as nice as it felt, you regret it now. Because now you wish it would have been Chenle. “I don’t want you, Jisung. I want Chenle. Get that inside your head and leave me alone. I don’t want you, never.” And with that you turn around and continue your way home, leaving a heartbroken Jisung behind.

But your thoughts already pushed that away. All you can think about again is the outfit you’re going to wear tonight. All you can think about is how tonight you will make Chenle yours, you will make him desire you.

-

Devil and angel. That’s what you find yourself wearing as you enter the party. It’s ironic, really. How Chenle decided to wear a devil’s costume, black clothes, red horns and big black wings. And you as an angel, white short dress, big fluffy wings and red lipstick painting your lips. It’s even more ironic that Chenle wants to make the rumors come true, he wants to be who the people paint him to be, he wants to show them that he can play this game as well.

Chenles’ hand hasn’t left your lower back ever since you left your house, sometimes wandering further but never too much. It sends electric shocks through your body every time, something different filling your body. Lust, is what you call it. He hasn’t left your side, keeping you close. Sometimes he leans down, whispering things into your ear that leave you breathless. And sometimes his gaze wanders through the crowd, but you stop him every time, guiding his face back to you, capturing his eyes with yours. You don’t want him to look somewhere else, don’t want him to stray away. You just want him to put all his attention on you, to put everything on you.

Out of the corner of your eyes you can see Jisung, leaning against a wall, drinking a cheap drink out of a red plastic cup. But you ignore him, you ignore everyone in the room. You just keep on grinding your body into Chenles’, dancing until your lungs give out. Chenle has his hands firmly on your hips, guiding your moves, pressing you further into him. It makes your head spin, your vision blur. It makes you want to rip his clothes off, right here, right on this dance floor for everyone to see.

And you would have, you really did, if it wasn’t for Jisung grabbing your hand, pulling you away from Chenle. “What the heck?”, you scream at him over the loud music, struggling to get out of his grip. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere quiet.”, Jisung says, voice unsteady. The kitchen isn’t crowded, expect for one couple making out in the back, but Jisung doesn’t give them any attention. He just looks at you, at your revealing dress, your smeared red lipstick, the sweat dripping down your forehead. “God, I can’t even look at you.”

“Then don’t.”, you shoot back, turning around to leave, but he stops you. Jisung quickly walks in front of you, causing you to bump into his chest. “Jisung.”, you sigh. “I already rejected you. Stop bothering me. I am here with Chenle, I want Chenle. Do you want me to spell it out for you? Want me to scream it to the whole world? Because I will when he fucks me later.”

Jisungs’ breaths are unsteady, tears sting in his eyes and you have to advert your gaze. You can’t look at him like that, and you don’t know why. “Look at me.”, he whispers, one hand softly holding your cheek. “Look at me, please. I’m begging you.” Your eyes meet his, unsure, unsteady. “I love you. I do. Chenle doesn’t. He doesn’t even know you, not the real you anyway. Whatever you are doing, I know it is to impress him. But you don’t have to. You don’t have to be someone you are not. You don’t have to change yourself just so that he will like you. God, if he doesn’t like you for the way you are then he doesn’t deserve you.” He lets a frustrated hand stroke through his hair, tugging on it lightly.

Jisung knows something is wrong. He knows that whatever Chenle did to you to make you this way, it must have been something serious. Ever since he came here, you have changed. You turned into someone you always wished never to be. “Remember when we were eight years old.”, he starts speaking, his other hand never leaving your cheek. “We were friends, barely actually. We knew each other, played every now and then together, but we were both shy. We didn’t know how to talk to each other. That was until I scrapped my knees falling down while playing with a jumping robe. I remember crying so much, not being able to look at my bleeding knee. But you immediately came running to me. You kept on telling me how everything was going to be okay. And you held my hand until my mom came, until she was done cleaning up the wound and until I had a band-aid on my knee. You never once let it go. And that’s when I knew, Y/n. That’s when I knew that I love you, and that I always will. That’s when I knew that you are the kindest person on this planet.”

“Jisung.”, you whisper, one tear falling from your eyes, but he catches it with his thumb. You feel it, all the weight crushing down on you. You feel every single thing, and it destroys you. Jisung looks deeply into your eyes, his other hand coming up to stroke your hair softly. You don’t know what to say, what to feel, what to think. “I’m so sorry.” And he wants to say something, open his mouth to speak, but someone beats him to it.

“There you are.”, Chenle says, leaning against the kitchen doors frame. “I searched for you everywhere, my love.” And it’s like a switch turning inside of you. You slap Jisungs’ hand away, rolling your eyes at his advantages and walking towards Chenle. The moment you are within reach, Chenle pulls you in, wrapping one hand around you. “Hey man, I get that you are in love with her, or whatever, but it’s rude to steal someone else’s date. So, search for someone else to fuck.”

The moment Chenle pulls you into one of the free rooms, his lips are on yours. He kisses you feverishly, devilishly. He kisses you like he wants to leave you dry, like he wants to have you pleading. Chenle has you against the wall, hands all over your body, gripping and groping the sensitive skin, marking you up flesh by flesh. He bites your lower lip hard, only stopping when blood drips down your chin. Only then does he move on to your neck, sucking and biting, slurping and groaning. He presses you further into the wall, presses his whole body against. And you enjoy it. You enjoy his roughness, his possessiveness. You enjoy the way he doesn’t care if he’s going to hurt you, how he only cares about his own pleasure.

“You’re mine, sweetheart. You know that, right?” You nod at his voice, taking a few breaths trying to clear your foggy brain. You lean into him again, searching for his lips with yours but he pulls away, enticing a whimper to come out of your mouth. “I need you to say it, baby. Say you are mine. Say it like you mean it.”

“I’m yours.”, your voice is hoarse, breaking with those two words. “I’m yours.” Chenle grins, evilly almost. But he knows it’s not done yet; he knows that he has to do a little more. Just a tiny bit more and then he can have you, all to himself. He gives you what you crave, leaning down and capturing your mouth with his.

The kiss is messy, spit dripping down your chin, but you don’t care. All you want is to have Chenle closer, feel his skin on you. You want him to make you his, to claim you, to paint you from the inside. You want him to fill you up with all his everything and never let you go again. You want him so much it’s starting to hurt. Deep inside of you the pain starts to immerge, starting in your heart and spreading through your veins, slowly consuming your whole body.

“You feel that.”, Chenle whispers, parting from your lips slightly. You breathe him in, deep and long, but every breath is causing a sharp pain in your lungs. “You can feel the pain? This is your love for me, your want, your lust. It’s consuming you, isn’t it?” You almost can’t hear him through the ringing in your ears, almost can’t see him through the haze in your eyes.

Chenle presses his knee between your legs, enjoying the way you moan in pleasure at the feeling. He lets his hands wander over your body, moving your hips down, pressing you more on his knee. “I can feel you, baby. I can feel how you want me.” You weakly grip his shoulders, trying to stay up right. You feel dizzy, like you are about to pass out. And you don’t know if it’s from the pain in your body or the pleasure clouding your mind. But you know you want more, you need more.

“Please.”, you whimper, hands fumbling to unbutton his shirt. Chenle lets you try, chuckling at your shaking hands and the frustrated frown on your face as you notice your inability to open the buttons.

“Please, what, sweetheart? Use your words.” You sigh, throwing your head back and letting one hand glide down to the hem of his shirt, right before the button of his pants. “I can’t give you what you want, if you don’t tell me.”

“I want you.”, you tell him, voice coming out more stable than you thought it would. “Please, take me, Chenle.” And he knows, right in this moment, that it is time. That his plan has worked. He knows that he succeeded, that he can finally have what he has desired for so long.

“Finally.”, he whispers, face falling, eyes glowing red. “You know how long I waited for this? How long you made me wait? I should punish you, you know? I should destroy you for making me waste so much energy on your small little frame. But you don’t want that, do you? No, I bet you don’t. You just want to be with me, forever. Aren’t I right?” A tiny spark of fear courses through your body, but the lust inside of you makes you ignore that feeling.

“Yes, I want you forever, Chenle.” And it all happens so fast. Chenle takes your hair into his fist, tipping your head back violently. His eyes bore into the skin of your neck, marking it with his gaze. The whole room turns into black smoke, filling your lungs and making it hard for you to catch your breath. He is heaving, licking his blood shot lips with an animalistic manner.

“Oh, my sweet girl. We are going to have so much fun together. Your mind is mine, was mine from the second you looked me in the eyes. I made you mine, and that will stay forever. I broke the sweet innocent girl you were. I broke you and showed you who you really are. You are going to be eternally grateful to me for that. I am your master now. I am the one you’re serving. And don’t worry, I am going to take extra good care of you. I couldn’t waste such a pretty little thing.”

And just like that, in the matter of mere seconds, in the blink of an eye, everything you once knew gets taken away from you. And it is one thought that flashes through your mind, before you the world turns black.

You should have listened to them when they told you the devil exists, and that he is among us. You should have listened to them, before you fell right into his trap, before you looked him in the eyes.

Bonus

Screams of suffering souls are faintly heard in the back, whimpers of pleading ghosts surround you and the burning fire warms the side of your face, but you stay unmoving. Glued to your place right beside the throne of bones and shattered spirits with Chenle sitting on it.

His large wings stay firmly tucked on his back, horns covering the top of his hands and his sharp teeth snarl from time to time.

Hell is worse than anyone imagined it to be, but you got used to it. You got used to the screams of pain, the muttered pleadings, the overwhelming heat. You got used to the suffering around you, inside of you. It never gets easier, never gets less. It stays constant, the suffering. Only when you step out of line, when the begging gets too much, do you die again. You learned to not do that, to behave, to be a statue. You learned that asking Chenle to spare your life isn’t going to help you. Because the devil doesn’t feel remorse, the devil doesn’t feel anything at all. You learned that it will only make him more ruthless, angry, wrathful. And that is not a sight you want to see again. So, you stay a perfect statue, a perfect toy. Because nothing matters anymore, nothing is important anymore, nothing makes any sense anymore. Why?

Because you’re already dead.  

[lestappenforever]

DARLING! ❤️

I would like to request 22 and 38 with Lestappen.

I love you! 🙏🏻😇

Judy, my love, my light, my beautiful, wonderful darling. ❤️

The final two from the prompt list coming right up for you.

---

22. "I want to do this.", and 38. "I can't." "You can. I know you can."

Charles stares down at the phone in his hand, at the black screen. He doesn't know how long he's been sitting out on his balcony, talking on the phone, but it has to have been a least an hour.

Christian Horner's voice keeps ringing in his head.

"We want you to come to Red Bull. We want two number one drivers for the 2025 season."

"Have you talked to Max about this?" Charles had asked.

"It was Max's idea."

---

He sits in the reception area at the Red Bull Racing headquarters in Milton Keynes, waiting for Christian to come fetch him.

Max walks past him, but stops after doing a double-take to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

"You're here," Max says, raising an eyebrow.

He looks surprised.

Charles frowns.

"Surely Christian told you I was coming?" He counters incredulously.

The Dutchman snorts, nodding. "He did. I just wasn’t sure you were actually going to show up."

If he's being totally honest, Charles hadn’t been sure he would show up, either. Not until he was getting out of the car ten minutes ago and let his feet carry him into the building.

It's been a difficult decision, accepting Red Bull’s offer. His loyalty to Ferrari has always run deeper than anything else, and there is nothing Charles wants more in this life than to win a World Championship with his beloved team.

But the past three years has proved to Charles that it’s not going to happen. Not for a long time, anyway. And as much as Ferrari is the team Charles so desperately wants to succeed with, he has realized that Ferrari has never loved him as much as Charles has loved Ferrari. And if Charles wants to win, he will have to do it with someone else.

As much as it broke his fucking heart to turn down Ferrari's new contract offer, he had realized that it was time to think about himself. For the first time in his life.

"Well, here I am," Charles tells Max with a shrug.

Max narrows his eyes at him.

"Yeah, and you look fucking ecstatic about it."

The Monégasque rolls his eyes, because he knows Max knows how much it has hurt for Charles to reach the decision to leave Ferrari. After all, Max was the one who had made him come to his senses in one of their many deep, long talks over the past few months — ever since Christian extended the contract offer.

He fixes Max with a firm stare as he sits up straighter in his seat, all confidence and assertiveness.

"I want to do this."

His voice leaves no room for doubt.

One corner of Max's mouth quirks up at how sure Charles seems.

"Good. Now show the fucking world what you're capable of," Max says, before walking off.

Charles watches him go and something flutters in his chest.

---

Charles Leclerc at Red Bull is a success from the get-go.

The team actually listens to him when he gives feedback on the car during pre-season testing, and they've designed the car to suit his driving style.

He manages to snatch the win from Max on the final lap of the first race of the season, and it’s fucking beautiful. Max seems as happy for Charles as he would have been for himself had he managed to start the season off with a win.

Max hugs him so tight when Charles climbs out of his car after the race that it’s almost painful. But Charles hugs him right back, just as tight.

On the podium, as he stands on the top step, looking down at the ecstatic faces of his new team, at Max beaming at him to his right, Charles feels like he's on top of the fucking world.

At the hotel later that night, when Max comes knocking at his door to congratulate him again, Charles pulls him into the room and into a kiss — and later, his bed.

Somehow, fucking the reigning World Champion — his teammate, the bane of Charles' existence for most of his life — feels even better than his first race win at Red Bull.

---

The 2025 season is a thriller from start to finish. Being in a team that actually listens to him and a car that is actually competitive means that Charles is fighting Max for the championship title. They’re far ahead of Lando in third place and Carlos in fourth, and it will all be settled in Abu Dhabi.

Max is ahead of Charles by four measily points, meaning that if Charles wins the race, he wins his maiden world championship.

And the pressure of that is sending him into a panic in the bathroom mere minutes before he has to be in his car.

He stands over the sink, gripping the edges tight enough to turn his knuckles white as he tries and fails to control his breathing, to calm his racing heart.

The door opens.

"Charles, what are you —," Max cuts himself off mid-sentence as he lays eyes on Charles.

He shuts the door behind him and steps closer, placing a gentle hand on Charles' back.

"What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay?" He asks hurriedly.

When Charles meets his gaze, his face his pale and his eyes wide.

"I don't think I can do this," he admits weakly, shaking his head.

Max frowns at him. "What do you mean?"

"The race. I can’t do it."

It's ridiculous, Charles knows. He's come this far, his first ever world championship within reach. He's proven himself, time and time again over the past season. He's shown the world what he's capable of, he's shown the world that it was always Ferrari that was the problem, and not Charles himself. He's proved to every single person who ever doubted him and their fucking mother that he deserves this. That he deserves to be at this level.

That he deserves to win.

And yet, the past is coming back to haunt him. Coming back to try and convince him that it’s all a lie — that he doesn’t deserve a single thing he has achieved so far. Even though he knows it’s a fucking lie, it’s still there, in the back of his mind.

Taunting him.

"Of course you can," Max tells him, taking a hold of Charles' arm and pulling him upright.

Charles goes willingly, letting Max turn him until he's facing the other man.

"I can’t."

Max grabs his face, holding it between his hands and looking deep into the Monégasque's eyes.

"You can. I know you can."

Charles swallows, wants to look away. But Max isn’t having it.

"You're the most talented driver I've ever seen, and you've shown it all year, Charles," Max tells him, and it’s said with such intensity — such conviction — that Charles' heart fucking soars.

"You want me to win?" Charles asks, the panic having finally started to ease, replaced by confidence.

Max smirks at him, moving his hands down to hold the sides of Charles' neck.

"I'll do my best to make sure you don’t," Max promises, and Charles knows he means it. Knows Max would never in a million years let him win.

"But if you do win, you'll have fucking earned it."

Max kisses him then, a hard press of lips against Charles'. He pulls back mere seconds later, eyes dark.

"Now go out there and fucking prove me right."

It sounds like a challenge.

Max means it like one, too.

Another peck, and then Max is out the door.

Charles glances at himself in the mirror, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath. Then, he smiles and follows Max — his teammate, his rival, reigning World Champion and holder of his fucking heart and soul — out of the bathroom.

---

Charles wins the race and the World Championship in Abu Dhabi, and Max finishes less than half a second behind him.

And it’s fucking beautiful.

[possibilistfanfiction]

Hi! I just wanted to say I love everything you write for warrior nun (& butch bea especially!!) If you're ever in the mood to write more ficlets can I put in my vote for something about mary and ray? the part about them made me so happy !

[a little something!]

'don't laugh at me,' you say, coming downstairs from your guest room at beatrice and ava's to where they're sitting and doing a puzzle at the kitchen island. well, beatrice is doing the puzzle, diligently finishing the edges, while ava just kind of sits and stares. it's... kind of ridiculous, but beatrice had been hurt; there's still a bruise on the back of her head, turning green now — painful, and healing — and the brace over a compression sleeve on her leg. but she's only using one crutch now, and the incision down her stomach has knit together fully now. she's a little stir-crazy, you think, but also pretty tired still — and has been relegated from olympic-level judo to things like puzzles, so, of course, ava had come home with ten of them.

'we'll definitely laugh at you,' ava says, looking up with a grin.

'why wouldn't we?' beatrice asks, attention still on the puzzle pieces.

you sigh. you're happy for them — so, so happy — but the two of them together are also the bane of your fucking existence. ava makes beatrice's shoulders relax, makes a big smile stretch on her face, makes her laugh, every single day; beatrice makes ava brighter, which had seemed impossible, but now you watch them in their own home and you ache, you hug them tightly every night before they go to bed while you stay here while your apartment is finalized. they also, however, love to collectively make fun of you. no shooting allowed, in this new world, even though ava would still be fine. whatever.

'i'm — i'm going on a date.'

'oh, we know,' beatrice says. 'ray hasn't shut up about it for days.'

'so you know what we're doing? thank god, i have no idea what to wear.'

ava grins. dangerous. you could kick her off a cliff again, you really could. 'yeah, we can't tell you where though.'

you roll your eyes. maybe you could swipe a puzzle piece when they're at the beach, that would drive beatrice nuts. 'can you, like, advise an outfit, at least? i've worn all black forever but i don't think that's the vibe.'

'yeah, hot mercenary is not the theme.' ava grins. 'but i love shopping. and bea knows all the good spots.'

'okay, but not boring spots.'

'ava has never complained a day in her life about me being boring.' you just let it pan out from there, ava's adoring smile, the familiar scratch to the back of beatrice's head, so soft and careful, the way beatrice's hands still on their puzzle pieces and her chin lifting, just slightly, so ava bends near her, like a willow to water, and kisses her. eventually, beatrice turns to you. 'see?'

'i don't need you making out to know that you're into each other,' you grumble.

'oh, if you want to see us making out,' ava says, but beatrice puts a gentle hand on ava's wrist. 'okay, never mind. but... shopping! bea, do you feel good enough to go? otherwise i'll just facetime you everywhere.'

beatrice laughs. 'yes, i can go. i'll just sit while mary tries things on.' she turns toward you. 'i know it can be — daunting, to figure out who you want to be. maybe it won't be; ava's always enjoyed it.' ava preens. 'but we'll have fun; i'll take you places where there will be stuff you might be interested in. and, at any time, if you want to leave, just say the word.'

'okay,' you relent — you want to look good for your date, and, as you look at ava in her flowy wide-leg pants and especially beatrice, in a favorite, soft crew neck, you realize that you desperately, and joyfully, want to know who you are.

/

as promised, beatrice does take you to stores that have interesting clothes — expensive, not that that's anything you'd worry about at this point — and sneakers you had always wanted when you were younger. beatrice finds a pair of dunks that you think are both very clean and, as expected, extremely boring; you get a few that are more interesting, jordan 1s and 4s and a pair of union dunks. ava knocks over a whole rack of clothes, who knows how, but charms the attendant so much they end up laughing as she helps pick things up.

there are a few more stores, with t-shirts and flannels and perfectly fitting pants. they're fancy, you know, understated and cool, and everyone knows beatrice and ava; they're happy to see them, although everyone is worried about beatrice, who handles things like a champ: she's just fine, a cycling accident in spain; recovery has been easy and she's glad to be out of the house; yes, she wants that hoodie even though — with a laugh — she definitely doesn't need it, but ava will steal it anyway.

you can tell this one is beatrice’s particular favorite, because when ava holds the door for her and beatrice walks through — slowly, but steadily, fairly coordinated with her forearm crutch opposite the big leg brace, one of the attendants shoots forward. he’s, well, beautiful, with perfect braids and and dark skin, cargo pants and a pair of off whites you don’t even want to think about how much they cost.

‘beatrice,’ he says, seemingly torn between grinning and frowning, and wraps her in a careful, familiar hug.

‘hi jalen,’ she says, and then jalen hugs ava too, who smiles into his shoulder.

‘hey bud.’

‘i’ve missed you both,’ he says. ‘how are you feeling?’

‘much better,’ beatrice says. ‘i had a facial and a massage yesterday, and down to one crutch, so i can’t complain.’

‘first, still obsessed with your hair.’ he ruffles the top, and you’re a little floored, because beatrice just laughs. ‘and, secondly, ava, you’re okay?’

‘spick and span,’ she confirms, offering two dorky thumbs up that just come off, annoyingly, as charming.

‘jalen, this is mary,’ beatrice says. ‘one of my oldest friends. mary, this is jalen. he’s a regular at ava’s bar and my favorite stylist.’

‘quite the resume,’ you say, and shake his hand.

he smiles. ‘if only beatrice would add keiko’s boyfriend to that list.’

ava snorts. ‘we would if it was true.’

‘one day.’ he sighs. ‘anyway, what are we here for today? we just got the new aime leon dore crews, beatrice.’

‘while i will be getting one of those for sure,’ she says, ‘more importantly, mary has a date tonight! and, plus, needs some new things anyway. she’s been away on business.’

‘delightful.’ he looks you over. ‘i’m feeling a tasha cloud, arike ogunbowale kinda vibe.’ he smiles, excited. ‘what do you think?’

‘i’m into it,’ you say, your chest warming: beatrice knows you; she loves you; she wants to share her life and all the good things in it. she’s built it herself. she knows who will understand.

‘great! and, please tell me if you don’t like something. my feelings won’t be hurt at all, and we want you to feel awesome.’

‘that — yes,’ you say, a little choked up out of nowhere, and you spare a glance at ava and beatrice. beatrice has settled on a couch, her leg outstretched, while ava looks through some crews and holds them up for beatrice to pick a favorite. ‘that sounds perfect.’

jalen helps you find a few pieces you love, that you can mix and match for a number of outfits. it’s surreal, to get to choose what you want — to wear every day; to wear by the beach; to wear to drinks with your sisters, so in love it’s impossible to really be annoyed; to wear on a date.

eventually, beatrice starts to fade, slumping over on ava’s shoulder on the couch, her eyes fluttering, which makes you laugh — and then jalen too, who understands somehow, that she’s okay. or, at least, that she will be.

ava tells jalen to charge everything to their account; she’d told you when you’d first come that the church pays for whatever they want, and, plus, they have beatrice’s essentially infinite trust fund anyway. you leave with a few bags, but not before you ask jalen where he gets his braids done and he grins and gets your number to send you the information. it’s one of a few in your phone; your world grows every day.

/

'okay,' you say, looking at yourself in your mirror one last time. 'good?'

'you look sexy,' ava says, helpful as always, but bea laughs softly and squeezes your hand.

'you look amazing,' she says, and she really means it. ray hadn't told you much, just that it was casual and no pressure. she's known beatrice for a while now and so, you know, she seems to understand the hesitancy toward big things, a big life. beatrice has one now, and you want one too. it's different, so different than what you thought you would have. but it's not bad; in fact, most of the time it's good.

you tie a flannel around your waist for when it inevitably gets cooler later; you had your braids redone two days ago and your babyhairs are down perfectly. ava is basically vibrating when — endearingly, because she definitely has a key — ray rings the doorbell.

'go, go!' ava says, spinning you by the shoulders in the direction of the stairs. 'beatrice and i are going to ... stay in on your balcony, i guess. right, bea?'

it feels a little like they're your parents or something; whenever lilith visits she trudges along behind them like a teenager being dragged out of her bedroom. but beatrice's smile is gentle and she takes ava's hand. 'yes, i'll make sure that ava gives you your privacy.'

you take a deep breath and nod. 'wish me luck.'

'godspeed,' ava says. 'we definitely won't stay up late waiting on the couch to make sure you get home by your curfew.'

despite yourself, you laugh.

/

ray brings you flowers and you kiss her cheek and she smiles at you, bright in the setting sun, and takes off her sunglasses and opens your car door.

'this is about as lowkey as it gets,' she says, 'but i thought we could get some in n out and watch the sunset on the beach. i know you get to watch the sunset from beatrice and ava's every day, but i have a spot i love that i want to share with you. i brought some craft beer i like, if you want a drink.' she pauses, grips the steering while tight in her hands, and it sets you at remarkable ease when you realize — she's nervous too. she's excited too.

'that sounds amazing.' she smiles and it's worth it; it's so worth it.

she lets out a relieved breath. 'okay, sweet. do you have an in n out order?'

'i've never actually been.'

'god, that's a crime.'

'look, i've only been in california for a month.'

'that's a whole month!'

you laugh at her genuine dismay. honestly, you didn't think you would be staying; you hadn't even brought more than a few days clothes in a duffel when lilith teleported you. you had planned to stay and take care of beatrice and help ava for a week tops. but then, well — 'better late than never, right?'

'so much better,' ray says, and turns on good 90s r&b while you wait in what you think might be the world's longest drive thru, although when you say that ray just laughs. she's beautiful, and your mind drifts slightly when she licks her fingers after finishing her burger, the pink clouds washing over the both of you. there are a few streaks of grey coming into the inky black of her hair, a mess of curls, and you wonder what it might be like to tangle your hands in it. to let her kiss you. to touch her back.

you talk about everything and nothing at once: who you are, but not the worst parts. not yet.

the sun sets and you put your flannel on and ray grins. 'you look really good,' she says.

'thanks. i — beatrice took me shopping.'

'ah,' ray says, 'my favorite activity to share with her. i love when she charges things to her account.'

'it was pretty sweet, honestly. i — well, you knew her, when you first met. getting out of our old line of work, at least for me, it's a lot of just... trying to figure out who i am now. who i want to be.'

'well, if tonight is anything to go by, and how highly beatrice and ava speak of you, who you are is incredible.'

you duck your head, busy yourself with gathering the napkins from dinner and putting them in the bag. you lift your head and the sun sits gold on the horizon behind ray's head. you almost laugh, then, in a little bit of disbelief — the kind of blessing you are just coming to understand. thank you, shannon, you pray. when ray smiles at you, her eyes squinting in the light, you allow yourself to really wonder: there is a halo around her head, some kind of saint, some kind of holy.

you wonder about resurrections and how ava loves so full, how beatrice is quiet and attentive and so deeply herself, now. you wonder about all of it — hell and grace and the rough orange blanket beneath you and the apartment you'd just gotten approved for, the scar along your shoulder from years ago and how often it rains here. you wonder about all of it, as you cup ray's jaw in your hand as gently as you can and ask is this okay? and she smiles — yeah, of course — and kiss her, in the remnants of the sun and the inky dusk setting in over the waves. the tide goes out, and a beautiful woman kisses you. it's a life. it's one hell of a life.

she holds your hand on the drive back to beatrice and ava's house, and when you open the front door ava scrambles up the stairs to, you guess, act like she wasn't watching out the front window, but beatrice still has her crutch and just waves from the couch, nonplussed. ray had walked you to the door and kissed your cheek and heads back to her car with a little wave in beatrice's direction, and you close the door.

'did you have a good time?' she asks, sleepy and looking like she'd showered earlier, comfortable with her leg propped on a few pillows and a heating pad on her stiff hip.

you sit next to her and then ava flings herself in the middle of you. beatrice lets out a little oof but she laughs, and ava climbs practically on top of her without any resistance. you'll never have a love like that, you're pretty sure, in this life or any of the next, because ava is ava — exuberant and unrelenting and desperately kind — but the quietness is good too. the small intimacies. 'i had a wonderful time.'

'good,' ava says, a kind of totality you're just beginning to understand: things are good. things should be good. 'bea has been falling asleep for an hour —' beatrice pouts — 'but, brunch tomorrow, maybe? i want to hear all about it.'

'yeah,' you say, a little overcome, thinking about the sunset and in n out and what it felt like to kiss someone kind after all this time; thinking about what it was like to come back to people who love you, who want you to be happy — your sisters. 'that sounds perfect.'

and it isn't perfect: beatrice is still hurt and grumpy, which makes ava grumpy, but it's beautiful and smells like the ocean and you eat whatever you want, with no plans for the day. it's not perfect, but it is good. it's a home, and a life, and you let yourself wonder about it all as you steal potatoes from ava's plate and she swats at your hand with a laugh, the sun high in the sky.

[shieldofiron]

Don’t Walk On By

Rated T for Teen • Fluff • Also on AO3 Here

Eddie had a plan to meet his soulmate. It started in elementary school, when he was shy and nervous, and he’d been teased. Because his soulmark was on his foot, under his shoes, the teasing started early.

“You know what they say. A hidden mark means love in the dark,” His neighbor smirked when he showed the tiny misshapen flower.

“No,” Eddie frowned, “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yes it does. It means they’ll never find you, or they’ll never love you back,” She teased.

“Nuh-uh,” He mumbled. But he’d gone running home to his dad that night.

“Oh-ho, it’s Eddie the Banished, protector of realms, fiercest warrior of the fourth grade!” His dad sat on the side of the truck he was working over in the chop shop.

Eddie sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “Is it true my soulmate won’t find me.”

“Oh, Eds,” His dad had shaken his head, “No. It’s random. Just a mark. That’s an old wives tale.”

But that didn’t do a lot to soothe Eddie’s hurt feelings. One of his dad’s famous hugs was a lot better.

And then the bosses at the chop shop started to get nervous, a little squirrely and strange. And then Eddie’s dad was gone, whisked off for eight to ten for taking a job that paid under the table for guys who would happily throw him under the bus. Or stolen car, as the case might be.

And Eddie was shipped off to his Uncle Wayne in the middle of nowhere, and it felt like he was further away from his soulmate. It wasn’t uncommon for people to find their soulmate when they were young, especially in a small town. It felt like everyone was already paired up, even the pretty girl at the talent show had a boyfriend at 12 years old. A boyfriend who was a dick, started hounding Eddie day one for his weird old metal lunchbox and strange clothes.

“Is that what they wear in the city? Really?” Carver’s face has always been etched into a permanent scowl.

Eddie just mumbled something quietly, and tried to get on with his day. But Carver was and is a pest, always hounding him.

On the upside, people didn’t show off their marks quite as much as they did in the city, and what’s more it was cold. Sometimes Eddie wouldn’t even see his mark for months except in the shower.

And so he decided after one year, that if his soulmate wasn’t going to show up in that classic movie moment, where Eddie would roll up his sleeve and reveal his soulmark to his dewy eyed soulmate, and the music would swell... at the very least he would become unforgettable.

Presumably his soulmate was... well, his soulmate, and would eventually become interested in him. They were supposed to be together, bound by the universe. He wasn’t much for sports, wasn’t much for school either. But he had other ways to stand out. He grew his hair out, spoke up a little more, said the jokes he would normally say under his breath out loud, and then out louder. He played guitar loud. He even cried sometimes over his lost soulmate, who was probably halfway across the country, and he did it loud when he did.

He wasn’t sure if it was guaranteed to catch the eye of his soulmate, but it sure seemed to be working. His mark was hidden, but Eddie was not.

On the contrary, he caught everyone’s eye, some more than others.

“Freak,” Jason Carver, the bane of his existence, snarled as he slammed Eddie against a set of lockers.

“Takes one to know one, Carver,” He laughed.

“What did you say to me?”

Eddie laughed again, trying to keep things light. “I said, you’re an enormous freaky freak.”

Carver’s lashes fluttered over blue sky eyes, anger and disbelief flashing across his face, “Go fuck yourself, Munson.”

“Hey, I wasn’t even doing anything. Just standing here, minding my business,” Eddie’s voice rose, and heads turned. It was more habit now than anything else.

“Well maybe you should mind your business somewhere that isn’t right in front of my locker. Again.” Carver’s eye gets this crazy look sometimes. Like a blue sky before a tornado, cloudless and terrifying. His voice too, reverbs off the lockers, just as loud as Eddie, just as wild. He sometimes wonders why Carver needs all the eyes on him too.

It’s not like there’s much else for Eddie to do with his days. He’s pretty sure if his soulmate was here, they would have found him. He would have gone on at least one single date, or had a first kiss by now, before they decided the universe made a mistake.

So, he riles up Carver, because what else is there to do?

Eddie just holds up his hands, “Sorry, Carver. Where your locker is, that’s just not that memorable.”

This gets a shock of surprised laughter out of Harrington and Hargrove, who are leaning against the water fountain in the early stages of swapping spit. The matching, almost-a-skull shaped marks on their necks move with them, almost like they’re laughing too.

Carver’s cheeks go pink, and the freckles across the bridge of his nose stand out even more. Eddie would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t get a kick out of riling Carver up. He was just so prim and proper, with his sweet and quiet girlfriend and his ironed shirts and his neat little locker, not a thing out of place. Carver probably had a perfectly sharp square as his soulmark. Only his freckles dare step out of line.

“Just move,” Carver shoves him aside and Eddie laughs, and their audience dissipates, called away by class and their soulmates, and whatever else they need to do after the Carver and Munson show.

But it does put a little spring in Eddie’s step as he goes through his day, the flustered frustration on Jason’s face still imprinted behind his eyeballs.

On his free period, he goes out to smoke in the little knoll behind the football field. It’s spring, and finally, a warm day after so much cold. Without much thought he kicks off his sneakers, tucking his white socks back inside them and stretching his toes in the grass. Hawkins isn’t so bad like this, green grass under his toes and blue skies like angry eyes.

“Is someone smoking out there?”

Eddie sighs, flopping back in the grass. “Hey, Carver. Training for your future job as a mall security guard?”

Carver comes jogging out from the field, his Hawkins High shorts riding up high on this pale thighs. Eddie tries his best not to stare at his chest, all that skin on display. He doesn’t see a soulmark, but he does spy more freckles sprinkles across the top of his shoulders.

Jesus, but he is pretty.

Carver is jogging in place, but then he stops suddenly, the disapproving frown falling right off his face.

He’s staring at Eddie’s foot. The little misshapen flower.

Eddie wiggles his toes, making the petals dance, and lays his cigarette back between his lips, “What? You’re practically out here in your underwear, but my toes are too much for you?”

Carver just shakes his head mutely, his eyes rising to Eddie’s face.

“Well then, run along,” Eddie shrugs.

“It’s you,” Carver gasps.

“What?”

Carver leaps into motion, tugging his Nikes off his left foot and his sock with it. And there, right by his pinky toe. A misshapen flower, the imperfect petals a shape Eddie could trace in his sleep.

Eddie can’t help it. He laughs. He laughs and laughs.

“Wha-”

Eddie holds a hand over his stomach, choking on the air. He holds a hand out to stop Carver, because it’s just too funny.

“It’s not funny,” Carver’s voice quakes at the end. He’s got that crazy look in his eye. “I’m not a joke. I’m not... I’m your soulmate. I’m not a joke.”

Eddie shakes his head, and then he reaches out, not without hesitation.

The music swells. Eddie’s sure it does. The whole theatre holds it’s breath in anticipation.

Eddie reaches up and brushes his finger along that freckle-dusted nose, that’s been the object of countless musings and speculations.

“You’re not a joke. You noticed,” Eddie says, “You noticed me.”

It’s inelegant. Strange and weird, Carver shuffling on one bare foot. Eddie brushes his hand against his cheek.

There’s no one there, but Eddie doesn’t find his soulmate in the dark. Like the petals of a misshapen flower, they bloom in the bright afternoon sun, under a bright blue sky. And when they kiss for the first time, their toes brush, naked and exposed.

He noticed. He always noticed Eddie.

[dagdasoneandonly]

Happy 10 years together Augustine~

Before we begin it is PARAMOUNT to state that I am not a "fangirl/simp/whatever y'all are calling it these days" of dear Augustine Sycamore.

He is my FO (Forever One/ husband in laymans terms) and I consider him to be a real person just like the words I'm typing on this keyboard.

Any comments that are irrelevant to this post will be deleted and the user blocked.

I take my relationship with him very seriously, if this is "odd" or "weird" to you then kindly walk on by.

10 years ago I was welcomed back into the world of Pokemon after a few years break due to personal things I had going on, and video games were the last thing on my mind.

But as they say fate and destiny always have other plans.

Pokemon XY was the last golden age of Pokemon, it was a different world, it felt like I was welcome there. I still maintain onto my hope and innocence because of this beautiful world known as Kalos, a world that greeted me with open arms and a warm hug that enveloped my soul like Xerneas's Fairy Aura.

It was the beginning of something entirely new for me... and I didn't even know it.

2013 wasn't a good year for me, so I was pretty happy when my dad surprised me with a 3Ds and asked me what game I wanted: I was an edgy little shit back then so I asked for Pokemon Y... even though I really wanted X. Deer were always beautiful to me.

I had broken off with an FO that I just felt I wasn't good enough for and became rather desolate, I was lost and alone. And I had to drop out of college for mental health reasons.

Sure enough, my solace came to me in the 2D world yet again.

One cozy October evening my copy of Pokemon Y came through, I was excited and fired the game up right away, back then you could play games right away without downloads or waiting for patches and mutliple DLCs! XY had one patch but it was just to fix that Lumioise City bug. Thankfully my copy was safe.

As you can see, my copy of Pokemon XY is infact a physical copy, I've taken very good care of it. (Ft. my cute Sylveon plushie, Fionn)

Not having anyone to trade with didn't matter, because the Wonder Trade function was a bloody miracle. I got so many Pokemon. I couldn't transfer my older Pokemon as I had no access to Bank or any of that stuff, my other games I had to leave at home.

It was time when Gamefreak actually thought about their fans who didn't have access to Gamestop, Toys R Us or couldn't afford constant trips to New York, Japan, Mars, Etc for one tiny ass pixel.

So I was sorely missing my old Pokemon, I wish I could bring them into this 3D world and pet them and shower them with affection like they deserved to be. But I realized I could make new memories with new friends in this new world, and who knows? Maybe we would reunite again.

Kalos took me on a journey, a journey of love, self discovery and gave me a home. I was whisked away to Fairy land and fairy types became my new favorite, I liked that they were strong against Dragon - types, the bane of my existence at how powerful they always were!

But.. the one who grabbed me by the hand was none other than Professor Augustine Sycamore. I had seen his image before on a leak, and couldn't help but think he was kind of handsome, a friend who had already played through Pokemon X told me:

"Hey you might like Professor Sycamore, he's this dreamboat that shows you the world and stuff and I KEEP SWOONING whenever he shows up on screen"

Sure enough when I opened up Pokemon X for the first time, I was greeted by his handsome face, I thought nothing of it of course since I was more interested in the Pokemon.

I was especially looking forward to Trainer customization and giving myself green eyes and brown hair. I will never forget the time I chose my Fennekin and started to pet him, my heart melted.

I could finally show my Pokemon love and affection, for all their hard work in battles and feed them cupcakes and play with them! I was also intrigued by this thing called "Mega Evolution".

As I continued throughout the game, I explored every nook and cranny, I felt like a kid again. I was truly lost to the world for HOURS after I got it. It was a beautiful game. The 3D over-world was amazing.

The "friends" you had were annoying but I like to pretend they don't exist. When I finally reached Lumoise City I already had a big party of Pokemon, and the event Torchic.

I loved how friendly the Pokemon in Kalos were, I caught many eevees and evolved one into a Sylveon, she became a massive Team Player. I even managed to find some familar faces along the way: A Raichu named Napalm, and an Espeon named Solar who remains as an MVP in my teams to this day.

I was having so much fun just running around, getting haircuts, dressing up, looking pretty for Professor Sycamore AND catching Pokemon, I would completely be lost in this beautiful new world, that felt so much like home to me and still is.

Professor Sycamore was the beginning of my healing. As I continued to learn about him, there was more to him than just the eye candy, he had a past. I loved it whenever he showed up to offer me an encouraging word or two in the game, saying how this was my journey to explore, that being the best trainer was defined by what I thought. He never imposed anything on me, I was starting to feel the flutters and shit in my heart and liver again.. And my god it felt good.

I desperately needed to feel something like this.. something like true, unconditional love.

Around this time I was heavily suffering from perfectionism, it was killing me on the inside, I was 19 when this game came out and already people had high expectations of me.

I was determined to graduate, get a job and have my own house- all before I reached 21. But life seldom goes your way, I was suffering from many un-diagnosed mental disorders that had been neglected my entire life.

I am ashamed to say I spent almost all of 2013 being obsessively deep in competitive and breeding the perfect Pokémon. Perfectionism had leaked into my past - time and hobbies, I realized that if I couldn't be perfect I could at least have this outlet in games, little did I know it was sucking the soul out of me.

I was often punished as a child for being less than perfect, I took it out on my poor Pokemon. Things like this don't magically go away, not everyone has a backbone, sometimes backbones take time to build.

It wasn't until yet again - I got help from a rather unexpected source: Professor Sycamore himself, another testament to have wonderful 2D beings are.

As I progressed through the game and reached the Tower of Mastery.

I was surprised to learn that Professor Sycamore was there to study Mega Evolution but left because he didn't have what it takes, essentially dropping out- kind of a parallel to my own life, except real life seldom has happy endings.

But it gave me hope, because even if Sycamore didn't master Mega Evolution he still became the professor of Kalos and if you look into professorship- it's.. actually not easy to get. If Sycamore could fail and succeed in the future, maybe I could too.

One night..

I had a dream of Sycamore. He held me close and said that he could tell something was bothering me, I was hurting deep down. We in the fairy forest together, just relaxing in a field of flowers as the Flabebe floated around us in the gentle spring breeze..I told him everything, I spilled my heart and soul to him.

I told him that life wasn't worth it to live.

He was heart-wrenched that I felt like that, he embraced me tightly in his arms and told me

"Your life is your own, no one gets to decide it's worth except you. Even if you're behind, you don't have to go at everyone else's pace, if life was easy then no one would feel sadness. I love you no matter what or who you choose to be, always remember that," Those words I still carry in my heart.

The biggest surprise I got had to be in Couriway Town. I found Professor Sycamore's "treasure" from the past Sycamore to the future Sycamore. I actually began to cry, it felt like it was addressing me, that even if I don't know what I want to be yet, I'm not a failure. I still have time.

In another dream I confessed that I loved him, he embraced and kissed me fully on the mouth. I felt like I was on cloud nine.

Diverging from the narrative a bit, I want to talk about Lysandre, I felt his anger sometimes, the frustration of helping your friends and them not wanting to do any better no matter how much time you invested in them. Of course Lysandre ,uh took a different path. But Sycamore still cared about him.

And I realized.. even if I'm a horrible person apparently according to some people over shit I can't control, Sycamore can still love me too.

Professor Sycamore is a relic of a bygone era when 2D beings set out to inspire others, and to most importantly - love you and you alone.

Augustine gave me not just love-- but a home to come back to, a safe haven that will always be mine, no matter what. I will always love him, when I look into his beautiful gray - blue eyes, I see love.

He gave me hope that life can get better, and most importantly I deserve happiness, not just other people.

And.. today I'm marrying this wonderful man after 10 years. He met me when I was freshly 18 and saw me grow into who I am today, and he's proud of me. I'm happy I lived to see 10 more years.

Thank you for everything, Augustine. Thank you for teaching me to love again.