#this isn’t a pity thing either pls don’t take it as that I just

[wrathofrats]

Oh I fucking despise doing this but it’s just an interest check

My bills have gone up like $100 a month and I don’t get paid enough to pay and have any money for medical shit and food and ??? Life LMAO

Basically this is a commissions interest check. For writing, probably $7 per 1k? And higher rates for stuff above 5k, I think that’s decently fair? I can be persuaded otherwise

[kawkawsrii]

Post War Obikaka ramble / idea:

thinking about post war obkk where kakashi secures a deal w the council so obito don’t gotta stay in a dingy cell all the time (and to ward off the threat of obito’s execution) by essentially being like “nah we getting married, so- u can’t execute the Hokage’s husband.” Bc war criminal sure, but the Hokage’s spouse?! He goes to Obito, tells him the plan, and practically proposes in the most unromantic, unsexy way ever (“this is a last resort but pls marry me so the council stops yelling to execute u and so u can finally go out in public again”, way to go Kakashi). Obito is kinda having none of it bc he wants Kakashi to marry someone he’s actually in love w and not out of a sense of guilt or self sacrificial bs, so he’s like “no.” (note that Kakashi does love Obito and sees the good in him despite how much Obito has changed over the years, and for him, marriage was a last resort bc he thinks Obito isn’t in love w him / doesn’t wanna trap him in an unhappy marriage for “freedom” / feels guilty for robbing Obito of his choice but he wants to save him so badly he goes through w it anyways / lots of other reasons) (another note that Obito also loves Kakashi, but he thinks Kakashi’s care comes from years of idolization, pity, and a guilt complex or something and is scared of whether or not Kakashi could love him for the very flawed person he is today)

So some other bs happens and Kakashi is able to bring Obito out to see Konoha and how it’s evolving, how times r changing but how some things remain the same yadayada- he spends time w Obito whether that’s sitting next to his cell door and chatting or going out w him under the guise of “rehabilitation” (bro fr using this as an excuse to go on dates w his war criminal bf he’s so unserious). It’s through those moments that they start to repair and strengthen their bond, and to also see how much the other has changed more closely (day to day stuff yknow, domestic fluff when Obito is allowed more time outside even). With the threat of execution still looming over obito’s head, Kakashi tries to propose multiple times but is either unable to bc he doesn’t want to ruin the moment or bc Obito shuts him down bc he doesn’t feel deserving of Kakashi’s love.

Cue more moments between them, w/ team 7 in the background, more fluff, some more angsty stuff, hurt comfort, and mutual pining.

I think in the end, I’d have Obito propose bc 1) I think it gives him a bit more agency than if he were to just accept kakashi’s proposal 2) it shows Kakashi his feelings are requited, bc Obito is taking the initiative and directly telling kakashi he wants to spend the rest of his life w him 3) even w/o a ring bro got a yes and I think that’s funny asf 4) I think it’d be funny for Kakashi to have tried to propose in a bunch of elaborate ways in the fic, and Obito just does it in like a field of wheat w NO RING and that’s how they got engaged

apologies for the grammar mistakes, it will happen again bc this ain’t a fic (yet, but i hope to write a long fic w this idea), if anyone wants to add on please do. No joke, I’ll look at reblogs / chat purely to see the #lols! Or # dawg look at my Hokage I’m going to hell 😭😭😭😭

much love! (I’ve got a jonin obkk art piece that’ll be finished soon) 💕💕💕

[hyperfixat]

haiii so dw this month for sure a chapter of the star rail fic is coming cross my heart, i just really wanted to write this. so theres a visual novel on this app called dorian called shark bait (by rose magpie i think) and i really like it and wanted to contribute to the little fandom its growing!! check it out pls i love it sm if you do use my link so i get some in app currency i can use to support this creator and others like them: https://dorian.app.link/2Y85rYySoKb

(the app lets creators make profit off of their work and when you use the link i’ll get a currency that allows me to help the authors get money)

also any diehard gw fans,. if youre outther,. sorry for th character assassination

At first GW doesn’t care. Why should he bother to coddle this human that’s going to be dead within the month? They’re pitiful, always making those little squeaks and screams when something startles them. Their fear stank up his room for nearly the whole week, he even partially caved, attempting to relax the poor thing by giving it Rhin’s stupid notebook. That sort of worked, dampening the concentration of fear in the air.

He’s half surprised that no one’s made a chomp at it, what with how the scent lingers over them at all times. The other half of him is proud at how well his men respect his authority and know not to mess with what is his.

Sometime throughout the week he had to babysit you, he began to see you as a pet, and called you such. The first time he let the pet name slip it was as he was escorting you through the halls, few sharks were around, but the name brought a fire to your face and made you tuck your head down. You tried to hide your face, opting to grasp the back of his jacket to stick closer to him. If you stumbled into his feet a couple times in your desperation to hide yourself, he didn’t mention it.

Then the whole Posideon revival thing happened, what a show that was, but it was the catalyst for him to realize (and admit to himself) that he wants you to like him the way you like the others.

You’re practically suctioned to Rhin’s side, and Rhin, the sap, enables it! If Rhin needs to visit Akhelios you follow along like a little puppy; if Rhin wants a snack you stick to him like a barnacle; if Rhin needed to take a shit he wouldn’t be surprised if you followed him in the bathroom.

That’s not to say you don’t like him or the others, though he has a sinking feeling he’s your least favorite of the four of them (excluding Akhelios, he doesn’t see most of your interactions with the god, so he can’t make a good judgment). GW doesn’t know how to fix that, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.

“Pet, come here.” He tries to say it casually. The five of you are relaxing in a common area and you’re not actively cuddling up to someone. It seems as good a time as ever to begin making you forge a bond with him.

You startle, looking up at him like a deer in headlights. GW looks at you expectantly, but you avert your gaze and look to Rhin, who gives GW a suspicious eye raise, but nods at you — either reassuring you or granting you permission. GW doesn’t like that, he stops himself from growling, despite the urge building up in his chest, as to not frighten you further and detract your desire to get close to him.

You stand from your spot next to Tiggy who watches the situation carefully, as if spectating a drama show. Your steps are timid and uncertain as you walk up to GW. You stop a few feet in front of him, briefly making eye contact before looking back down at his chest. When he stands, it's then how much larger he is than you comes into perspective for him. Even with his slouch he stands a good few heads taller than you in this form. Though logically he knows that isn’t a good thing in terms of making you relax easier around him, it stirs something in the pit of his stomach to look down on you so casually.

“Come with me.” You glance back at the three remaining sharks, gauging their expressions. While curious none of them indicate that you shouldn’t follow GW. Tiggy even gives you an encouraging nod.

GW leads you down the hallway to his chambers, opening the door for you and locking it behind him.

“Is there a reason you asked for me?”

GW stalks behind his mess of a desk and grabs a leather bound journal. It makes a solid thunk when he drops it on the desk.

“I found another one of Rhin’s old drawing collections.” He slides it to the edge of his desk, indicating he wants you to retrieve it. You follow through and place your hand on the cool cover. “You seemed to like the first one I gave you. ‘Figured you’d like to play with this one as well.”

You stare down at the bound pages. It’s clearly been done by hand, but professionally. You wonder how long it took Rhin to make, unless someone else bound the pages for him? GW taps the cover, urging you to pick it up.

“Feel free to destroy it, burn it, whatever; same as the first one.” GW huffs.

You thank him and move to lay on the couch to idly flip through the pages; they contain a variety of sketches and finished works, clinical, personal, silly. The aging of the pages tells you this book may very well be older than your great great grandma. Eventually you find the point Rhin likely lost (or was robbed of) the book, as no pages from that point have any signs of creativity on them.

You look at GW, who settled down at his desk to do paperwork, wondering if it’s worth approaching him to ask for a pencil.

Boredom eventually wins over and you shuffle over to his desk to pluck a spare pencil, GW’s dark eyes flick to your hand immediately. He watches you grab a pencil and fights the urge to make you ask. The goal is to make you like him and relax around him, not to treat you like anyone else.

GW doesn’t like that something of Rhin’s draws you to his room. It’s nice to be in your company, but the air is soured when he looks over at you drawing little smiley faces and doodles next to Rhin’s work.

Rhin.

It drives him mad, he drives him mad. And GW knows within a few hours he’ll be seeing you clinging to Rhin’s side at breakfast. Why do you even like the shark so much? What does he have that GW can’t provide you with?

A tender touch is what it takes to win you, GW surmises. That will prove to be an issue. GW isn’t tender. Perhaps that is what makes you so drawn to Rhin. Though you seem content to cuddle up with Tiggy and Lee just fine…

Though he was (still is, he’s trying, he promises,) hostile to you especially at the start of your relationship. How can he show without completely demeaning himself he thinks of you as more than just an ex-sacrifice or an obligation.

This will have to do for now, this casual companionship. He’ll just have to find another way to woo you. (Not that he’d ever call it that.)

…

Why won’t you let your guard down to the same degree as you do with the others with him?

GW can hear your laughter as he comes down the hallway, your voice sounds animated, but at a distance he can’t make out what you’re so excited about.

When he enters the room your laughter quiets. It’s behavior that he would expect of his subordinates, not you. It sits wrong with him that you would feel the need to repress your authenticity around him. If only there were a way to convey that to you without sounding like a total sap.

…

On a completely unrelated note you’ve gone and turned GW into a total sap.

Okay, that’s a gross exaggeration, but he would never say these things to anyone else.

Finally he’s got you to come to his room, under the casual guise of wanting to have a talk, though what he assumed was a casual guise has turned you into a nervous wreck as you timidly shut the door behind yourself.

GW wants to scream. Is his progress with you reversing, because why are you trembling like a newborn and keeping your gaze so firmly stuck to the floor.

“You wanted to talk?” It’s rare for you to take the initiative to start a conversation first.

“Yes, you have nothing to be nervous about, I can smell you from across the room.” You look up at him like a doe in headlights, not expecting to be called out so blatantly. “Come over here I have something I want to say, and I don’t want to repeat myself.”

Though your nerves don’t fade, they don’t worsen, so it’s a win in GW’s book. When you’re finally close enough that he’s sure you’ll be able to hear each and every word he speaks clearly GW shoots one finally glare at his door, as if daring someone to barge in. When no one does he directs his eyes to you.

“I…?” GW clears his throat, dismissing the moment of uncertainty. “I like you, MC. I want you to know that it hurts me when you show such fear and timidness around me.”

“Oh.” You don’t know how to respond to that.

“I’m not asking for anything, I just want you to know I won’t hurt you or snap at you. You’re safe with me, you know that, right?” When you nod, GW closes his eyes as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “And my door is always open, for you, that is. Please stop by some time. I value your company.”

[miguel-ohara-lover]

Sub!Miguel x Dom M!Reader

———

CW: nsfvv, mirror sex, edging, fingering, p in a, mild degrading, overstim, “bad” words (I.e. cock dick ass ect), after care

I’m not fluent in Spanish so I’m sorry if something is wrong. Also I’m not proof reading haha :D

Prompt: he’s a bit pathetic :]

———

It wasn’t often Miguel had any free time. He was so busy dealing with “the fate of the multiverse”, you had started getting a bit on edge. Waiting for him to take a break only for him to be either busy once again or too tired to even watch tv with you was starting to get on your nerves. Not to the point you’d leave him of course, but it gave you plenty of time to plan out what you’d do when he was eventually free.

When the day finally comes, he rather excitedly informs you he’s going to be free that day, going on about all the things you two could do together. But no, you had thought of every detail already, and you’d be damned if you let him get away this time.

As he spoke you gently took his hand and led him to the bedroom. This didn’t break the spew of words leaving his mouth as he told you all his ideas. Until you cut him off that is.

“Miggy~ I think I have a better idea. And… you owe me for making me wait so long~” You smirk as you see the blush slowly appear on his cheeks. You vaguely gesture with your hand, and he knows that means to remove his pants. This isn’t your first rodeo after all.

As you glance around the room, a new idea appears when you see the full length mirror on your wall. You can’t help but chuckle as you motion for him to get in position in front of the mirror. When Miguel realizes what you have in mind, his blush grows. He bit his lower lip as he got on all fours in front of the mirror.

You watched excitedly as he did so, admiring everything curve and muscle on his perfect body. With one swift motion you removed your belt before shaving your pants down. In the reflection of the mirror he could see your hard cock spring free from your trousers, already dripping with precum. His heart raced at the thought of it inside him. It had been so long, and he was so tight.

You keep your eyes on him as you walk over to the nightstand, grabbing some lube to make this less painful on both of you. You never once let him actually see you, only your reflection and his pitiful face as he watched with desperate eyes. He was so embarrassed to be reduced to this, but no one’s around to see him at least.

The longer you waited the more desperate Miguel was. He hadn’t realized how much he actually needed you like this until now. You maintain eye contact with him in the reflection of the mirror as you coat your dick in the cool lube, using what’s left on your hand to trace circles around his entrance before pushing a finger in.

Miguel let out quite the pathetic moan, feeling your finger slide into his tight hole like it’s nothing. You couldn’t help but let out small chuckle before adding a second finger, stretching him slowly. Seeing his face in the mirror didn’t help, he felt so weak under you, but he loved it. He loved knowing you were the one person that could reduce him to nothing.

You stretched his hole for a few minutes, adding a third finger once you felt he was ready. You could see him unraveling in the reflection and you loved it. You continued to finger him, hitting the perfect spot every time knowing how much pleasure it was causing. His moans were music to your ears, especially after so long.

The fingering continues until you notice the signs he’s getting close. His breath quickens, he trembles, and he mutters in Spanish. That’s the true sign he’s right on the edge. His incoherent mumbling, desperate pleas for release, and of course… you pull your fingers out. This leaves him desperate and whimpering, hole clenching around nothing.

“Pl-please… please don’t stop… nn… not yet…” He whined and positioned himself on his elbows so his behind was more in the air. He truly didn’t care how pathetic he looked in the mirror, he just couldn’t wait anymore. "Please please please... fuck..."

You snickered at how needy he seemed. He could see it on your face how much you enjoyed this torment. You pressed the tip of your throbbing member to his entrance and slowly pushed forward, causing a cute moan to escape him. Placing your hands on his hips, you start thrusting slowly, letting Miguel feel every inch of your length.

Seeing his face didn’t help you just as much as it didn’t help him. You loved the way he looked, so pitiful and pathetic under you, and all he can do is look at his reflection as you use his hole. His poor dick twitched and ached from the lack of attention. As you thrust in and out, in and out, a hand creeps up to his neck, applying light pressure so he’s forced to look up, maintaining eye contact with himself in the mirror.

Miguel starts to tremble and his moans grow louder as the tip of your cock hits his prostate over and over. You smirk and quicken your pace, making him cry out as the overstimulation catches up to him. You let out a low grunt as you feel your own orgasm approaching.

“Fuck… Miguelito… You’re so tight heh.” You tease and smirk as you hear him whimper. “Want my jizz in you, or should I pull out?”

“N-no no don’t pull o-Ah~ out…” Miguel pleas, barley able to get that sentence out. And like every time, he starts muttering in Spanish. “N-no peudo… no peudo… Mierda…” He whimpered and moaned as he get himself be brought to the edge once again.

You grown and grunt as your thrusts become more desperate, wanting your own release almost as badly as he needed it. With one final hard thrust you both came, painting his insides and the poor mirror in sticky white liquid. You slowly rut inside him to ride out your orgasms before pulling out, watching your semen drool out of his stretched ass.

You both pant and try to catch your breath, Miguel’s arms shaking as he tries to support himself after that. You know out of the two of you, you’re much more capable. After a deep breath you stood and helped Miguel to his feet. He’s a bit wobbly but you can support him just fine as you make your way to the bathroom. He leans against the wall as you start a warm bath for the two of you.

[lqfiles]

Hyuck being rude ASF makes him even hotter ngl. Like wdym he doesn't want y/n to live there and avoids interaction with her at all costs? HE WANTS HER FR😍

ALSO i just read your reply to my previous msg ( i was off tumblr for a while), and thank you:)

Ive been kinda sad thinking about ill end up friendless forever and thats what i deserve but your msg really helped me change my perspective on the whole thing:)

I'll let you know how it goes!!!

Stay happy and healthy always pooks💛

WELL YES… like we need to see the potential like let’s imagine him saying all this while all in our face and very seductive.. walk with me here.. HE WANTS HER BAAAAAADDD (it’s us against everyone anon)

i’m so glad you took my words into consideration :) PLEASE DONT EVER THINK THAT YOU DESERVE THAT PLS it’s not a matter of whether you deserve it trust me, you really shouldn’t depend on friends to make you happy anon. its something i talked about with this friend from secondary school today, how we’re both okay with being by ourselves. its true that people might pity you, but genuinely who gaf? i will also have you know that i’m almost always alone on fridays in school because none of the people i talk to are in so i definitely know what it’s like to be alone. and i don’t have any proper friends in my class either but i’m still managing, i’m there to get my education and just move on yk :)

and even then, you already have a friend which is ME! isn’t that already cool 🌝 you can always come to me if these things worry you ^^ TAKE CARE AND STAY HEALTHY TOO <333

[augustinewrites]

pretty pls more keeping up with the fushigojos pls i beg

i hear you bestie here’s a crumb

“what is this?”

gojo glances up from his phone and slides his shades down an inch, eyes flicking from you to the item you’re holding up. “is this a trick question?”

your gaze is flat and unimpressed, so he guesses that it’s not. clearing his throat, he slips his phone back into his pocket and sits up a little straighter.

“that’s a limited edition digimon tin lunchbox—”

“incorrect,” you snap, flipping the clasp so the items inside tumble out onto the dining table. “it’s megumi’s lunchbox. i asked you to pack it this morning.”

he gestures down at the items in front of him. “and i did!”

“a chocolate bar, some loose candies, and a container of chocolate covered pretzels? with a soda to wash it down?”

gojo doesn’t really see a problem. it’s food, isn’t it? not his fault the brat didn’t eat it. “he’s six, that’s like every normal kid’s dream lunch!”

you just sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “he needs real food. fruits and vegetables. cheese and crackers. he didn’t want to eat this so he got his teacher to call me.”

“and what’d you feed him? lettuce? carrots?” gojo sticks his tongue out, shuddering. “he’s a kid, not a rabbit.”

looking him in the eyes, you deadpan, “i took him out for sushi.”

this is probably third on his list of worst betrayals.

“you— you went to get sushi? without me? where did you take him? was it sushi go? don’t tell me it was sushi go—”

“it was sushi go,” you shrug.

oh, this is like a stab in the back (he’s very intimate with the feeling). “why didn’t you bring me? why didn’t you bring tsumiki? you can’t just bring one member of the fa—”

he doesn’t detect one ounce of pity in your voice when you add, “oh, i brought tsumiki.”

god, you’re really twisting the knife now, aren’t you? “what?!”

you sniff, wholly unaffected by his dramatic wailing. “yeah, she didn’t like the lunch you packed her either, but she ate some of it because she didn’t want you to feel bad.”

“so we’re a household of lying and betrayal now? i see how it is,” he huffs, slumping in his chair and pulling out his phone. “how would you feel if i called shoko and nanami to invite them out for sushi? without you?”

“that’s not the point—”

he holds up a finger to stop you, sensing the spike in your cursed energy and knowing he’s dangerously close to losing said finger. he texts nanami and shoko anyway, throwing them into a group chat and delighting at their quick responses.

[gojo] how would you guys like to get sushi with me?

[gojo] my treat. i’ll even drive us there.

[nanami] when?

“at least some people care about my feelings,” he tells you, waving his phone at you like it’s a trophy.

[gojo] today! :D

[nanami] no. i already ate lunch today.

[shoko] nanami who is that?

[gojo] the sexiest sorcerer you’ve ever known ;)

[shoko] utahime?

his thumbs hover over the screen. there are some emotions that just can’t be captured over text.

[nanami] it’s gojo.

[shoko] oh

[shoko] then no.

“you’re all so mean,” he pouts, clearing the chat immediately. “i have fake friends.”

you just roll your eyes at his dramatics. “just come here, you big baby. i’ll teach you how to make a proper lunch.”

so he ends up in the kitchen with you, learning how to make a lunch to please literal children.

you remind him that megumi is a brat who doesn’t like red peppers and likes his sandwiches with the crust cut off. tsumiki is a literal angel who likes when you shape little onigiri into hearts and prefers strawberry milk to regular milk. megumi likes to dip his vegetables in ranch, but tsumiki prefers hummus. megumi gets candied ginger as a treat on fridays, and tsumiki gets strawberry pocky.

apparently you’ve even started placing little encouraging notes in their boxes. you’re so cheesy, he can’t even believe he’s dating you.

(and, sure, the first time he tries packing their lunch without your supervision, he gets a few things mixed up and he ends up throwing a few bills at them before school.

but he learns to get it right eventually.)

-

it’s a few days after the failed mission at the eishu detention center when megumi walks into his dorm to see a tin lunchbox sitting on his desk.

he chuckles lightly when he sees the faded digimon characters, fingertips tracing familiar dents and scrapes.

he flips the clasp open, a small, fond smile tugging on his lips as he studies what’s inside

two sandwiches with the crusts cut off, a mix of veggies (no red pepper), a little container of ranch, and some candied ginger. there’s a little note too, written in gojo’s neat penmanship.

everything’s going to be okay.

[versadies]

Hey hey!! I've been following you for a while now and I love your work sm aaa

Saw the event, I love soulmate au's 😩‼ as a gemini, may I request a gemini prompt + kaeya? Up to you who the enemy is, I trust you ^ ^

-🦚 @pavo-ocell-me

someday, one day (hc scenario)

penpal: omg hi !! im glad u love my work, i hope this is to ur liking 🙌

prompt: gemini the twins, enemy-lover soulmate au

pairing/s: kaeya x gn!reader

sypnosis: when you thought he was your enemy but is actually your lover.

includes: spoilers on diluc and kaeya's backstory, spoilers on genshin's official webtoon, violence, physical pain, burns, arguing, enthusiastic!diluc (pls take note that its canon that he USED to be like all the other pyro characters b4 his father's death.),

when you first met diluc, it felt like he was your knight in shining armor.

the first time you two met was when you accidentally fell down from your balcony after leaning too much on the railing and diluc managed to catch you bridal-style whilst he was on patrol around the city as a knight.

it truly was romantic– and a near-death experience for you.

so when you found out that his name is imprinted on your wrist, you felt ecstatic, and so did he.

since then, you two were known as the youngest soulmates who had found each other in mondstadt, people admiring your relationship with envy and happiness.

of course, you and diluc were a happy couple. although you would be lying if you said diluc is overall your type, you managed to find yourself falling in love with the man.

when crepus, diluc's father, found out about diluc's once-in-a-lifetime moment, he simply laughs and pats you and his son by your backs with a proud smile.

"by the time my son turns 18, we better make arrangements of your wedding! it's a ragnvindr tradition, after all." he comments eagerly. you honestly weren't sure if the man was joking or not.

it didn't take long before you meet his dear brother, kaeya.

when you find out his brother's name is the same as the one that's imprinted on your other wrist, being surprised is far from your reaction.

"don't worry about it, y/n." diluc reassures you one night as the two of you stroll around the city together. "i'll make sure nothing will go wrong between you and my brother. besides, you always have me, right?"

if diluc hadn't tried what he said, perhaps things would've gone differently than now.

in fear of being enemies with your future brother-in-law, you decided to avoid kaeya like a plague, giving the young man apologetic looks whenever you walk away from his presence.

as much as you're avoiding the man, you couldn't imagine hating on kaeya. every night, you always think of what can make kaeya your enemy. what is there to hate him? he's funny, chivalrous, everything that screams your type of men.

wait.. type?

your heart drops from the moment you started thinking romantic things about diluc's brother, looking behind you to see your soulmate sleeping soundly with a frown plastered on your face.

is diluc really your lover?

doubts started to cross your mind. what if diluc isn't your soulmate? what is there to prove that kaeya is your enemy? are you just overthinking things?

"i can't think about this." you murmured to yourself, pulling up your comforter before laying back down on your bed and try to fall asleep.

"i have a wedding to worry about next year."

just as you said, you did try not to think about the possibilities you have with the two brothers, distracting yourself with tasks and dates with your lover, who's quite oblivious to your problems going on inside your head.

unnoticed by you, you weren't the only one who has been burdened with your thoughts.

by the time diluc's birthday has arrived, the two of you started to get excited from your future wedding, excited to finally marry each other after years of spending your adolescence together.

you didn't expect an inconvenience during diluc and crepus's trip.

you didn't expect crepus trying to save diluc from a monster using something that no one but snezhnaya has ever heard of.

you didn't expect crepus asking diluc to put him out of his misery.

you didn't expect diluc to come strolling back to your shared home with blood stained in his clothing at a late hour.

you never, ever, expected your lover to fight his own brother when he took a visit.

and you did not expect your lover to plan on leaving you and everyone.

"what do you mean you're... you're leaving?" you ask in disbelief, staring at diluc as though he has two heads. "can't i go with you–?"

"no, this journey will be too dangerous for you–"

"this applies to you as well! you're not an immortal or some god–"

"i can do this on my own, y/n." he says with his eyes narrowed. you couldn't help but scoff in disbelief. this isn't the diluc you know and loved.

"but diluc.. isn't this too much? your father... i know crepus's death is too much but, why can't you stay?" you whispered, cupping his cheeks. "what about our wedding? the life you and i planned after your bi–"

"my father died and you're seriously thinking about our wedding?!" diluc forces your hands away from his face, glaring at you. "why can't you understand that i'm trying to find out the truth on this delusion–"

"i do understand!" you yelled out. "i do understand that you want to do this for him but what about monstadt? the knights? what about your brother–"

"HE'S NOT MY BROTHER!" he yelled, lashing out at you as you screamed in surprise when you saw fire in front of you, immediately covering your face with your arms out of reflex.

you didn't notice how your lover's eyes widens on what he did,

you couldn't notice him, not when you're too focused on the huge burns on your arms.

"oh my god..." diluc murmurs, slowly taking a few steps back as he takes a look of what he did, ignoring the sudden presence of adelaide and elzer, who both gasped from the scene.

your eyes starts to water from the intense pain, trying not to cry out and scream your heart out in fear of making your lover feel regret. you could honestly care less on what diluc is doing, all you could think about was the intense burns from your arms.

suddenly, the door was slammed open by kaeya– who was wet from the rain outside.

"what the hell did you do to them?!" kaeya exclaims, running towards you with a shocked look on his face. "i'll take you to the cathedral alright? the sisters will heal you." he whispers, wiping off the tears from your face as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and takes you towards the doors.

before diluc could let out a word from his mouth, kaeya gives him a glare.

"you may hate me for what happened," kaeya says.

"but for celestia's sake, don't ever come to them or call them your lover ever again."

that was the last time you saw diluc.

you eventually find out from the chattering nuns that the man had already left monstadt with no news of when he'll return, causing everyone to pity you and for diluc about what happened.

you were thankful that no one except the nuns found out about the incident of your arms.

throughout your stay in the cathedral, you usually find kaeya beside you, keeping an eye on you with a concerned look on his face. you honestly couldn't imagine what would've happened if the man didn't storm inside dawn winery. would diluc actually try to help you later on and leave? would you have suffered more with your injuries as he stands by watching you in disbelief?

whatever outcome you could think of, your heart ached from them all.

would diluc stayed had he been the one who tries to take care of your injuries?

either way, you knew the man is no longer the one you fell in love with from those years ago.

as years grew by, so did your friendship with kaeya.

although it was awkward from the start, you eventually warmed up to the man who you thought is your enemy, feeling more comfortable with him than before.

the two of you started having careers by then, with you having a successful career whilst kaeya becomes the calvary captain of the knights of favonius.

although the two of you are busy, you agreed to always meet each other at night in angel's share, where you drink the night away and talk about anything that comes out of your minds.

there wasn't a day when you thought about diluc.

thankfully, your burns weren't too severe and is slowly fading away throughout the years. but that doesn't mean the memories you had from it disappeared as well.

ever since that dreadful night, you started having nightmares about the incident, always finding yourself sitting up from your bed with a scared look on your face.

you wished you didn't want to see diluc this way, but you honestly couldn't bare to face him if he ever comes back to the city.

you don't see him as a lover or a friend. all he is to you at this very moment is your nightmare.

your nightmares simply washes away when kaeya comes up in your mind.

whenever you think about your so-called destined enemy, you felt comforted and safe. it was understandable really! you were touched by how he took care of you regardless of you being his "enemy".

however... now that you could think about it, the calvary captain has a lot more common with you than diluc himself. the fact that his brother made you laugh a lot and supported you in many ways made you started thinking that maybe diluc really isn't your destined lover.

your heart skips a beat from the thought of kaeya being your true lover, the smile you wore never fading away.

perhaps when you're finally starting to move on from the relationship you had with diluc, maybe... just maybe, kaeya could be the one you've been hoping for.

you started to sleep more peacefully, excited for the future that awaits.

somewhere in the calvary captain's home, the man is dreaming and hoping of you too.

[freelancearsonist]

Undone

Blue Jones x afab!Reader

Sequel to Humbled

Rated MA for Blue getting pegged, this is basically just a fix it fic for Sucker Punch, some light degradation, swearing, and Blue being a cute bottom

3,156 words

A/N: HI I STARTED THIS ON 09/18/2020 AND IT’S FINALLY HERE EXACTLY ONE YEAR LATER!!!! i really hope this was worth the wait, i’m pretty happy with how it turned out 😂 as always thank you to @aellynera​ for the beta 🥺💛 pls comment and reblog if you enjoy i would really appreciate hearing your thoughts 🥺

“Can you just shut up for five seconds and let me fix you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Blue growls, clearly not the slightest bit repentant. “I just got stabbed!”

You press a little more firmly on his bandaged wound than you should, and it draws a hiss from his lips.

“What the fuck?”

You simply give him a stern look and tape the bandage in place.

“You’re fine,” you tell him. “If you weren’t such a dick to those girls, maybe you wouldn’t have a hole in your shoulder.”

No one else would dare talk to him like this, and he can’t deny that he loves it from you. You’re not afraid to tell him off, put him in his place. He’d never admit it, but sometimes he needs it.

His tone is a bit softer when he speaks again.

“Sweet Pea’s gone.”

“She never wanted to be here, Blue. You know she didn’t belong.”

“Gorski’s pissed. I’m on thin fucking ice.”

“That was your doing, Blue.”

He scowls up at you, but he doesn’t argue. He knows you’re right, whether he’s willing to admit it or not.

It’s quiet for a long moment as you smooth your fingers over the freshly set bandage.

“I don’t know where I went so wrong. What… what happened to me?”

You sigh as you drop your hands to your sides. “I don’t know, Blue. I think that’s something you need to figure out.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and you take that as your cue to leave. But the moment you take a step back, his thick fingers wrap around your wrist.

“Please… don’t go.”

You stare at him for a long moment before you move your hand down to intertwine your fingers with his.

“C’mon,” you urge him. “Let’s get you in your bed.”

Blue doesn’t complain when you change him into the ridiculously expensive silk pajamas that he loves, even though the set of his jaw tells you that he’s in immense pain from moving his arm.

He doesn’t complain, either, when he loses his balance slightly and your hands on his hips steady him as he gets into his unreasonably large bed.

“Can I get you anything?” You ask, as gently as you can. Because, even though you’re upset with him and he deserves everything that happened, you pity him. And you’re sure he’d despise your pity, but you can’t help it. You feel bad for him. And you wouldn’t if he didn’t seem so broken over everything that’s happened. You hate the things he’s done, but the fact that he can show remorse proves that he wants to change.

Whether he actually will change or not is the question.

“Just…” he clears his throat, bottom lip tugged tight between his teeth. 

You’ve never really seen him look shy before, excluding that one time you, y’know… made him eat his cum out of your pussy. It’s nearly endearing.

“Will you stay with me? Please?”

“Okay.” You wring your hands when you see him shuffle closer to the center of the bed to make room, because surely he doesn’t mean he wants you to cuddle him. If there’s one thing Blue Jones isn’t, it’s a cuddler.

But he pulls the edge of the sheets back for you, and there’s nothing else that could possibly mean.

It’s so strange, crawling into Blue Jones’ bed. Before today, you could count the number of times you’d been in his room on one hand. And all of them had been you patching up some kind of wound.

His uninjured arm is tentative when it pulls you close—you didn’t even know he had the ability to be tentative or gentle, and yet here he is. This is the sweetest you’ve ever seen him.

“What’s gotten into you, hmm?” You ask as you cuddle into his side.

He hesitates for a moment.

“Maybe having a near death experience put some things into perspective for me.”

Blue’s different, from then on. Nicer to the girls, nicer to Gorski. Nicer to everyone. Baby being all out of sorts from the High Roller was the final straw. It set everything in stone. Blue Jones decided to change.

And then one night, nearly two months into the New and Improved Blue Jones, he practically bangs your door down in the middle of the night.

You’re more than a little disgruntled when you hastily pull your robe on over your nightgown and fling the door open.

“The fucking brothel better be on fire or I’m going to strangle you,” you hiss as his hand takes yours.

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t be into that,” he retorts without missing a beat, and it has you flustered enough that you follow his eager pace through the building without further complaint.

It’s a nice night when he drags you through the front door of the building—just a little chilly, but not enough to have you shivering. It’s a nice breeze and the sky is clear enough to see millions of little twinkling stars and it takes your breath away for a moment.

“Blue—“

“C’mere.”

He leads you over to a spot on the wide open lawn where he’s splayed out a blanket, and for a minute you wonder if you’re dreaming. Blue Jones doesn’t do romantic shit like this.

“Okay, what is this?” You laugh, only half kidding. “What did you break?”

He snorts at your immediate assumption and smooths his fingertips over his neatly-groomed mustache.

“I didn’t break anything. Just… wanted to do something nice for you.”

You just blink at him as he sits down on the blanket and sheds his suit jacket. “Who the fuck are you and what did you do with Blue?”

All he lets out is a chuckle before he takes your hand and gently tugs you down. “The guy you knew… that wasn’t Blue. He was an asshole. He… he was off his fuckin’ rocker.”

“This is you?”

He seems almost sheepish when he smiles at you. “This is me.”

You ride him nice and slow out under the stars, and it feels strange to be startlingly aware of the fact that anyone could look out the dorm room windows and see you bouncing on his dick.

Even stranger is the fact that you don’t give a shit if anyone sees you with him.

And weirder still is what he tells you after he’s filled you to the brim and cuddled into your chest to wind down.

“I want you… I want you to help me out around here. More than you already do. I wanna make you a partner.”

You don’t even realize you’re playing with his hair as you mull over your answer. “If you do that, you might not like how much things change here.”

He just shrugs. “Things need to change. They have for a really fuckin’ long time.”

It takes a long time for you, Blue, and Vera to all come to agreement on all the changes that need to be made. Blue isn’t used to listening to other people, and he gets frustrated easily when people don’t agree with the way he wants to do things.

But he’s trying. For you, and for the girls. He wants to make things right, wants to get a little bit of the red out of his ledger.

“Y’know… one of the new girls, Cherry, told me about somethin’ kinda weird today,” he muses as you’re brushing your teeth one night, getting ready to hit the hay after a long day.

“Hmm?”

“She said that one of her clients…” he bites his lip hard, and it’s comical to see Blue this sheepish.

You spit out your toothpaste and rinse your mouth, then look up at his tentative expression in the mirror.

“Spit it out, baby.”

���She fucked him up the ass with a strap-on.”

Well, you did ask him to spit it out, but that’s the furthest thing from what you were expecting and it almost makes you choke on your breath.

“And you’re bringing this up because…”

“I dunno,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal—but the truth is, he wouldn’t have brought it up if he didn’t want to have a conversation about it. “Just… sounded interesting.”

There’s a slight smirk on your face as you follow him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom that the two of you now share.

“What sounds interesting about it, love?”

“How… hard she said she made him come from it.”

“You wanna see how hard I could make you come like that, hmm?”

He chokes on his own tongue, face burning a bright red that you’ve never seen before, and you can’t deny that you love having him so flustered.

You know that Blue loves giving up control, but you had no clue he’d ever want you to take care of him like that.

In less than a week, you’ve gathered all the necessary supplies.

It’s always slow on Wednesdays, so it’s become your unofficial date day with Blue. It’s one of the few days you aren’t both scrambling with your different duties, and it’s nice to kick back and be able to relax with each other. You’ve always loved seeing him relaxed, especially now that he doesn’t keep even the smallest of barriers up around himself.

“Anything you wanna do today?” He asks over breakfast, a bit of egg in his mouth.

Maybe he’s a bit more polite, but all of the work he’s done on himself hasn’t exactly bled over into his table manners yet.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” you tell him with the smile that lets him know he’s not gonna be able to walk right tomorrow.

He doesn’t know just how true that is yet.

“I’ve got some stuff for us to try,” you explain quietly as you pull him back to your bedroom.

He raises a curious brow at you as he opens the door for you. “What kinda stuff?”

You just gesture to the bed, where everything you got is already neatly laid out.

“Remember what you mentioned the other night? That thing Cherry told you about?”

Your eyes watch a gulp trace down his throat as he flicks the deadbolt into place.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want,” you reassure him.

You can’t quite read the expression he wears—can’t tell if it’s intrigue or terror. Maybe it’s a bit of both.

“I want it,” he breathes, nothing short of a whisper. “I want all of it.”

You’ve never felt anything as desperate as his kiss when his lips crash to yours. For a moment you melt into him, but you quickly remind him who’s in charge and slip your tongue past his parted lips. It draws an eager moan from him, and you can’t help the breathless laugh that leaves you when his knees buckle. You can’t believe he’s so turned on at the mere thought of you fucking him.

“Safe word?” You ask as your lips trail down his neck, hands eagerly pulling his suit jacket away from his body.

“Stop.”

You shoot a playful glare up at him, and he quickly corrects himself.

“Banana.”

“Good boy.”

He releases a throaty moan before he can think to stop himself, cheeks tinged pink. No matter how many times you pull these noises from his mouth, he always seems embarrassed. But you love all the precious sounds he makes—you want to show him that it’s okay to let go and lose himself in the pleasure.

He still seems embarrassed when you have him naked and spread out on the mattress, and you can’t help the sigh that leaves your parted lips.

“Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes!” He quickly reassures. “I just… I’m an ass virgin.”

It takes a solid five minutes for you to recover from your laughing fit, Blue pouting dramatically in the background while you’re doubled over.

“What?!” He whines, lips turned down in a dramatic pout. “It’s true!”

“No, I just-“ your face actually burns from how hard you’re laughing. “Of all the things I ever thought I’d hear you say, ‘I’m an ass virgin’ isn’t one of them.”

He can’t help joining in your laughter—when you put it like that, he guesses it is pretty funny.

“Come here and kiss me, please,” he pouts, and you console him by trailing your lips up over his thighs, stomach, chest, neck, and finally to his lips.

“Need to get you ready,” you murmur against his lips—when your finger traces lightly around his rim, his whole body tenses. “And you need to stay relaxed. It’s not gonna be good if you’re tense.”

He nods for a beat, takes a deep breath… and then he releases his muscles as he watches you coat your index finger in a good amount of lube.

“Use the safe word if you want me to stop, okay?” You remind him.

And then you push the tip of your finger into him.

It’s… weird. That’s the best word Blue can think of to describe it. Especially when you pull your finger out, because it feels like something that he really doesn’t want to happen right now.

But when you push back in, a little deeper this time, and curl your finger just slightly?

You’ve never heard anything like the moan that rips from his throat.

“Is that the spot?” You coo, free hand smoothing over his trembling thigh.

Words have completely escaped him, he just nods and squeezes his eyes shut to try and focus on not blowing his load when you’ve barely been touching him for a full minute.

“Huh-uh, baby,” you gently chastise. “Eyes on me while I fuck you with my fingers.”

It takes every ounce of willpower in his body to peel his eyes open, and good lord you look so hot like this. Kneeling between his knees, eyes wide and pupils blow with arousal as you work a second finger into him. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more attractive.

“How does that feel?” You hum as you press your fingers deeper.

“B-big,” he groans. “So fuckin’ good. Please don’t stop.”

You giggle at the needy, wrecked tone of his voice as you curl your fingers into his prostate again. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

“God, that… that has no right f-feeling that good.”

“That’s the spot, hmm? Is that gonna make you come all over yourself?”

Good lord, being talked down to shouldn’t be as sexy as it is. But when you do it, he feels like he could come on the spot.

He’s right on the edge and about to shatter when you pull your fingers completely out of him.

“B-baby, what—“

“I don’t want you coming until you’re stuffed full of my cock.”

For a moment, he thinks that sentence alone might push him over the edge.

You giggle and lean forward to kiss his cheek when you see the gulp that traces down his throat, and that’s when he sees it.

The strap-on is big. He’s not even sure when you put it on, but it looks so huge against your hips. Maybe smaller than average, but considering the fact that it’s going to be pushed inside him, Blue can’t help feeling a little nervous.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you tell him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips when you see the nervous expression on his face. “It’s barely bigger than my fingers. And if you aren’t ready for this right now, we won’t do it until you’re ready.”

“N-no,” he whimpers. “I… I’m okay. Want this.”

“Remember the safe word?”

“Banana,” he gasps as you press the lubed tip of the toy against his hole. “Safe word is banana.”

“Use it if you need to, okay?” You smooth your hands over his thighs as you push them a little further apart to accommodate the movement of your hips as you slowly start pushing into him. “I won’t be upset, I promise.”

He growls as his head falls back against the pillows. “I know, sugar. Just fuck me already.”

You tut quietly as you take his cock lightly in your hand, teasing your fingers up and down his length but not quite stroking. “So bossy. Care to remind me whose cock is inside whose ass?”

Blue looks up at the stern look on your face, the condescending set of your brows, and he thinks he’s in heaven.

“Yours,” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut again.

“Blue, darling,” you scold. “Eyes on me. Don’t make me remind you again.”

Oh, he very much wants to see what happens if he disobeys you again. But knowing you, it would be something very not fun like pulling out completely and stopping for the day, so he decides not to push it.

Instead, he looks up at you while you press further into him, brown eyes completely dark from the lust magnifying his pupils, and it’s the most powerful you’ve ever felt.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” you whisper as you seat your hips firmly against him.

It’s a little ironic that you now say the same thing that he’s said to you so many times when the positions have been reversed. And maybe Blue blushes a little bit at being called beautiful, but there’s truly no other word to describe him right now.

Flushed and breathless, split open and aching to come, spread for you and actually behaving himself without being punished first. You’ve never been prouder of him than you are in this moment, watching him squeeze and flutter around your fake cock.

“Good boy,” you praise as you lean down to lock your lips with his. “Such a good boy for me.”

He’s not sure why, but that does him in. And he would be so embarrassed about coming without you even really touching him if he wasn’t coming so hard just from the way the tip of your strap-on is rubbing against his prostate due to your deep thrusts.

You tut condescendingly as you watch his cock spasm and spill rope after rope of warm, thick cum all over his stomach and chest—but you can’t help being proud of how thoroughly undone he is for you.

“You came without permission, sweetheart.”

He whimpers at your tone, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and you don’t have the heart to continue chastising when he’s so blissed out and exhausted.

“Open your mouth, baby.”

Blue’s too exhausted from the strength of his orgasm to argue or disobey, and the moan he lets out when you push your cum-coated forefinger into his mouth tells you that he doesn’t want to disobey.

He knows that good boys always get the best rewards, anyway.

THE END

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[1kook]

skirt chasers - drabble iii

this a skirt chasers drabble in case u couldn't tell uhhh here’s i and ii lol

summary; “I think the alcohol broke my amygdala. Your epidermis looks pretty today— did you use that toner I told you about?” warnings; alcohol mention, tit sucking, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, uhh making out??? ratings; mature (18+) misc; educational abolitionist!jungkook, drunk jk, mentions of throwing up lol, jk is an anatomy frEAK, more skirts, more jk has questionable kinks wc; like barely 2k

notes; i wrote this in like 40 mins bc i couldn't stop thinking about STIMBO jk from skirt chasers and how cool he is enjoy xxxx also i barely rmr shit from anatomy bc it was the worst course of my life so pls bear with me

His first mistake is getting drinks with the boys. You like to think you know your boyfriend pretty well, know what he’s good at, where he excels, where he thrives, and well. Drinking doesn’t rank too high on the list.

Jimin calls a little past midnight. “Kook’s on the table,” he slurs into the phone, too loud and too sloppy for a Wednesday night phonecall.

“Ha?” you mumble back, rubbing your eyes until you see stars. The room is dark, practically spinning from how out of it you are. Chaeyoung is dead asleep in her room, so even whispering feels like a crime. “Where are you guys?”

Some bar on the south side of town, that strip where all the newly turned twenty-one year olds go to get wasted. Jungkook’s supposed to be studying for some big exam he has on Friday— at least, that’s what he told you —so it takes a few minutes of convincing on Jimin’s part until you’re shrugging your coat on, blindly navigating through your apartment for your keys and wallet. You briefly consider taking an Uber, but ultimately decide you’d rather get stabbed to death on a public bus so at least your family can sue the city afterwards.

Jungkook is indeed on the table, except the table has long since tipped over. So now he’s just sprawled across some dirty bar floor, puppy-soft head of curls spilling over his forehead. He’s so cute, so adorable. You want to kill him. “Up,” you command, channeling the strength of twelve football players to haul your beefy boyfriend off the ground.

“Baby,” he beams, looking at you but not actually looking at you. “I think the alcohol broke my amygdala. Your epidermis looks pretty today— did you use that toner I told you about?”

You don’t even know what that means, can’t even question him, because then Jin is angrily yelling at you to cover his tab. You pay with a stiff middle finger, flail the three dollars in your wallet at him, before sweeping away your poor damsel in distress. “You’re supposed to be studying,” you huff, can’t even be mad when he stops to throw up in a bush outside the bar. You’re so embarrassed, pretend you don’t know him as you pull up the bus times on your phone.

He’s huffy by the time you get on the bus, sniffling against your neck as he cries about his common hepatic portal vein thing— you don’t fucking know.

Chaeyoung isn’t too impressed with you when you bring him home, dump him on the couch while she steals your AirPods from your room. “Explain yourself,” you demand, and his head rolls back.

“I hate school,” he complains, slaps a hand down against his forehead. You’re certain he’s concussed himself this time. Then he’s bending over, head held between his hands. “Wanna cry.”

You sigh, kneeling in front of him. “You’re almost done,” you comfort him, hand on the back of his head. He’s so sweaty, and smells like all his friends colognes at the same time. “You’re smart, baby, you can do this.”

Your words have the opposite effect, because then he’s rocking forward childishly, nearly rams your skulls together and kills you. He’s reached the point of his insobriety where he’s too sad and huffy to think, sadly leaning against your shoulder as if that’ll somehow solve all his problems. You doubt it will, but there’s really nothing much you can when Jungkook reaches this point, so you settle on softly patting the back of his head until the fool is fucking snoring against you.

Chaeyoung blesses you with her divine retribution the next morning by using up the last of your body wash, and then you’re left to deal with a hungover Jungkook on a Thursday morning. You’re pretty sure he had a class that morning, but he wakes up too late for you to even try to convince him to still go, and then he’s moping on your couch in last night’s clothes. You’re getting ready for your internship, blouse half buttoned, pencil skirt wiggled up to your waist.

“Abolish exams,” he mutters, numbly staring at the ceiling as you wipe his face with a cleansing towelette. He doesn’t seem remotely interested in the shower or the pancakes you made, which lets you know this is a much more serious issue than just a drunken episode. “Aren’t they stupid?” You nod. “Sure, test me on every damn thing we’re learning right now as if science isn’t always changing and I’ll have to keep learning anyway.”

He looks over at you, under-eye bags absolutely horrendous. “Tests are stupid,” you agree, and it seems to be exactly what he wants to hear as he sinks into your arms, face buried in your chest. “Too stupid for smarty-pants Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook groans, flops over you on the couch all smelly and gross. “They test you for memorization and not comprehension,” he adds, finally wiggling out of his stinky clothes.

With Jungkook, you can never tell where things are going. One minute he’s cursing the education system and the next he’s kissing along your neck in his rambling fury. “As if I these materials will somehow become nonexistent once I’m working,” he huffs, hands on your thighs. Your breath hitches in your throat, fingers digging into his biceps as he mindlessly kisses down the valley between your breasts. “Shit’s so fucking stupid,” he spits, bunching your skirt around your waist.

“Jeon—“

“I’m just trying to be a fuckin’ pediatrician, for fuck’s sake,” he growls, hastily undoes the front buttons on your blouse. Your black bra comes into view, heart pounding in your chest as Jungkook makes quick work of reaching behind and undoing it, pushing it away, and cupping your breasts in his palms. He guides one of your legs around his waist, tucks it around him as he gets to work raining down kisses on your tits. “So pretty, doll,” he murmurs, pretty pink lips leaving smooches down your chest.

You bite down on your lip, watch through hazy eyes as those big doe eyes flick up at you, tongue swirling around your nipple. “N— Not tired anymore?” you pant, hands in his hair. It’s still dry and knotted from last night’s adventures, but you don’t mind. Not when Jungkook’s hard cock is flush against your thigh.

“Nah,” he confirms, rolling his hips forward against your core. Oh he was horny horny this morning. Or was he angry horny? You don’t care, either way you were winning. “I serenaded you last night, y’know?”

You snort, but it morphs into a whimper when he captures your rock hard nipple between his perfect teeth. “Not a serenade,” you whimper, fingernails running along his scalp, “if I’m not there.”

Jungkook leans back, lets you breathe for a second as he unbuckles the front of his pants, jeans pulled down around his thighs. And of course he’s hard as fuck by now; this was Jeon Jungkook you were dealing with. He could get it up and going in two seconds flat at the mere sight of your collarbones. “You were there,” he insists, capturing your hand in his all romantic like until you’re flustered and shaking him off. He levels you with a cheesy grin, presses your palm against his chest. “Here.”

You gag. “That’s disgusting.”

Jungkook laughs, all squeaky and airy because he’s never given a fuck about looking cool in front of you. His next words only prove your point. “Why? Don’t like being nestled against my left lung and esophagus, all sexy like?”

You roll your eyes, tug your panties aside to give him a full view of what his dorky anatomical talk has done to you. “Dick me down or go away,” you say, pointer finger nudging his chin up when he stares too long

He snaps his teeth at you, almost bites your finger, the fuckin’ weirdo. “Sassy today,” he teases, presses the tip of his cock against you. Both of you groan, watch as he glides himself up and down your folds, angry mushroom head pushing against your clit. “Always so wet for me,” he mumbles shakily, eyes zeroed in on your wet folds and how slick they feel against him. “Didn’t stretch you out again.”

“Yo— You’re mean about that anyway,” you pant, pulling him closer by those firm ass cheeks of his. “I can tell when you’re using me as a reference model.”

Jungkook gasps as if he’s genuinely scandalized by your claim, follows your wordless command and finally lines himself up with your quivering entrance. “I’m a hands-on learner,” he offers, his cheeky smile still on his face until he finally sinks into you and his features twist up all pretty. “Your pussy’s just so pretty, baby,” he grunts, hand on your hip.

Your face feels warm, from the pleasure that rolls over your body and the vulgarity of his words. “Shush now,” you say, try to sound strict and in command, but he’s got his other hand cupping your jaw, looking at you like you’re a goddess and not some dorky college student in their even dorkier internship uniform.

“Temptress,” he mumbles, pushes past your clenching lips until he’s flush against you, your walls spasming around his cock because he just feels so good. “Tried to sneak past me in that tiny skirt.” He draws back, lets his swollen head catch at the entrance before sliding back in, pace slow and sensual, too intimate for some random Thursday morning. “Little doll just needs to be fucked in the morning, doesn’t she?” A pitiful whimper catches in your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head with every glide of his dick back inside of you.

“N- Not my fault you have naughty eyes,” you whimper, hand coming up to bite at your knuckles as Jungkook continues to fuck you so sweetly. “Fuck.”

Jungkook ducks over you, wavy hair tickling your forehead as his hot breath fans across you. Smells like the mouthwash you made him take and hints of last night’s alcohol. “Can’t help it,” he husks, capturing your lips in his. Sloppy and wet, tongue clashing with yours as he guides you along, hips slowing to rhythmic ruts that have you moaning after each roll.

A few drawn-out thrusts later and you’re coming, body so sensitive this early in the morning, and it certainly doesn’t help that Jungkook looks like that (sweaty and worn, dark eyes watching you writhe beneath him). Surprisingly, it takes him a few more rushed thrusts before he follows, barely managing to pull out in time before his sparkling cum is splattering over your tummy and the skirt bunched around it. “No,” you whine, melting into the couch. “Jeon, this is my only one,” you complain, rubbing a hand over your eyes as if that’ll somehow make your legs work again enough to push him off.

Jungkook says nothing as he tucks himself back into his boxers, chest heaving from exertion as he crashes back onto the couch. “Liar,” he responds after a moment, out of breath and half asleep again. He’s still technically hungover. Hand lazily drawing circles on your knee as you sit up, wiggling your skirt back down. He gives you this indecipherable look. “I hid the other one under your dresser.”

You smack his arm. “Why the hell would you—“

He tackles you back into the couch, presses the stain into your skirt. It must feel gross against his naked tummy, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care. “Makes me too horny,” he announces, pout pressed against your neck. “I had a teacher fantasy the other day. Did I tell you?” You roll your eyes, resigning yourself to this new life squashed beneath your boyfriend. “You were my high school anatomy teacher and I failed, so you made me stay after school for supplemental lessons—“

“That’s an abuse of power,” you point out, back to carding your hands through his now sweaty and greasy hair. “And you would never fail an anatomy class, that’s literally your comfort area of study.”

“Listen,” he stresses, lifts his head until he’s peering at you with these humongous Bambi eyes. “You spanked me and—“

“Go get my skirt.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[absolutepokemontrash]

You don't need to write this if you dont want too because it's up to you but this is something wholsome

WHAT IF L!MC M!M & BBY A!MC BECOME BABIES AND THERE EVEONES HAS TO CARE FOR THEM,

I apologize for having such horrible writing and grammer. I never payed attention in school, nor could I afford to pay attention 👉😎👉

Bro I feel you on the not paying attention in school thing. Fear not, dearest asker, ask for demon babies, and since I am a merciful writer, you shall receive.

Oh Shit, Half-Demon Babies are Running Amok Send Diapers and Help-

Mini summary for the casual reader, L!MC is Lucifer’s half demon child who got summoned into the Devildom to be one of the human exchange students, M!MC is Mammon’s half demon kid, and A!MC is Asmo’s. Let’s get to the fic!

Ah, what a relaxing day... Lucifer was sitting back in his desk chair, enjoying a nice glass of Demonus and listening to one of his favourite cursed vinyls. He had done a damn good job on his work earlier and Diavolo had insisted there was no more work to be done and he could have the weekend all to himself.

Of course, his brothers were still a factor that could have ruined his me-time... on any other weekend! Satan had just gotten a new encyclopedia to read, so he wouldn’t be causing any trouble, Beel and Belphie were going to take that Devildom food tour, Mammon and M!MC were planning on spending the entire weekend shopping, Asmo and A!MC were going up to the human world on Saturday and staying until Sunday, and Levi... He got a sudden burst of inspiration for his Animal Crossing Island and most likely wouldn’t be leaving his room for the next month. Lastly, L!MC wouldn’t be causing any problems, his child would probably spend their time with him rambling about musicals or anime they had seen, and Lucifer found their intense interest very adorable.

Ah... peace and quiet...

...

...why did Lucifer hear crying?

There, standing in the entrance hall of the House of Lamentation, was Solomon, holding three screaming babies.

What, and I cannot stress this enough, THE HELL?!

“Ah, Lucifer,” Solomon attempted to wave hello, but needing to continue to bounce one of the babies on his hip kind of hindered the gesture, not that Lucifer wanted a wave at that moment. “I’m sure you have questions.”

After everyone had gathered into the living room, Solomon explained how a spell gone awry had hit L!MC, M!MC, and A!MC with the effect of turning the three into the screaming infants that stood (or... awkwardly sprawled out) in front of them.

On the bright side, the spell only had a timespan of roughly two days, so they wouldn’t be stuck like that forever.

Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes (save for the babies, who were still either crying or incoherently babbling) as they processed that information. Lucifer, ever the flawless older brother and leader, stood up and clapped his hands together once.

“Alright then, everyone cancel your weekend plans, we need to deal with this.”

Lucifer’s dearest little brothers all whined in protest, Satan in particular. “They’re not our kids, why do Belphie, Beel, Levi, and I need to cancel our plans?!”

“Satan,” Lucifer said sternly. “You don’t remember this, but it took six people to take care of one of you. The kids may only be half demons but there are three of them. We need all hands on deck. Besides, if you all want someone to blame, blame Solomon.”

Everyone turned and levelled their practically murderous glared at the sorcerer, who suddenly pulled baby A!MC into his lap and began to rock them back and forth.

“I have never felt more unsafe.” Solomon laughed nervously. “But you wouldn’t kill me while I’m holding my not-child would you?”

Asmo stomped over and snatched A!MC away from Solomon. “I can’t believe you- ACK! A!MC! Stop drooling!”

A!MC had a long trail of drool coming out of their mouth which caused Asmo to shriek and hold A!MC at arms length away. “Stop that! That’s gross, A!MC, you know better.”

The adorable baby continued to babble and drool.

Mammon picked up M!MC, who almost immediately stopped crying upon seeing Mammon’s watch, they began making grab hands at it. “Ah, ya want the watch?”

M!MC squealed in delight as Mammon dangled the watch above them, Mammon was delighted that his little brat still had their expensive taste, even as a baby. “Hey, look at me! I’m doin’ pretty good! Suck it, Asmo!”

As Asmo and Mammon bickered, Lucifer took the time to look at L!MC, they pulled at Lucifer’s tie and hummed to themselves. They were mind numbingly cute despite the screeching they were doing earlier. The sight tugged at the cold spot where Lucifer’s heart should have been, he had missed this part of his child’s life... maybe just that weekend he’d get a chance to-

“Solomon where do you think you’re going?” Lucifer was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed the shifty bastard trying to make his escape. “You’re staying to help manage this nonsense.”

—————

A!MC may have been an absolute ray of sunshine normally, but as a baby, they definitely lived up to the term demon-spawn.

A!MC would scream, cry and pitch a fit if they didn’t get what they wanted immediately, not that they had any way of articulating what they wanted because they were a god damn baby! Asmo and Solomon were at the point where they were just holding stuff out to A!MC to see if it would make them stop crying.

“Come on butterfly, don’t you like this... antique perfume bottle?” Asmo asked, A!MC took one look at it, then burst into flames and started wailing again. “For the love of my father WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!”

Now there were two sobbing messes in the room, and one was on fire. Solomon quickly magically took care of A!MC’s little fire problem (the baby was fiiiiiiine, demon babies light themselves on fire all the time!), picked A!MC up, sat down on Asmo’s bed, and snapped his fingers. Tiny balls of light gently floated into the air around the three, Asmo looked up from his pity party upon hearing A!MC stop their crying.

“See, you still like my magic, even as a baby, right A!MC?” Solomon asked, A!MC looked around in silent wonder, trying to reach up and touch the lights.

“Oh Solomon, this almost makes me forgive you for screwing up my weekend plans...” Asmo sighed in relief, he sat next to Solomon and pulled A!MC into his lap. “Not very colourful though, is it? Let me fix that.”

Asmo smiled as his own magic added streaks of colour, it was like their very own private showing of the northern lights. A!MC had on one of those goofy baby smiles that can make even the grumpiest person smile back.

Solomon and Asmo shaped some of the lights into shapes and animals, Asmo let a pink butterfly land on A!MC’s nose, much to their adorable delight.

“And that one’s a bird, and that one’s a giraffe,”

“That’s an alpaca.”

“Sorry, an alpaca with a weirdly long neck, oh! And a sheep!” Asmo looked down at his lap where A!MC sat and tickled their sides. “Everyone likes sheep!”

He then quickly shaped a ball of light into a scorpion and made it scuttle into A!MC’s lap. “But I have to say, scorpions are the best.”

The fifth born sighed in contentment as their sweet little hellspawn continued to watch the magic show. Never in his life did Asmodeus ever think he’d be this happy holding a baby, usually babies were things he thought should be handled with hazmat suits, but not at that moment. His little butterfly truly did have him wrapped around their finger.

“Asmo, hey, Asmo,” Asmo looked over at Solomon, who had a glowing triangle over one of his eyes. “Would you like to join my secret society?”

“Solomon, you are ruining the moment.”

——————

“C’mon kiddo! Eat your damn food!” Mammon once again tried to shove the spoon into his kid’s mouth with the same result as the 50 previous attempts.

“YUCKY!” M!MC shouted and slapped the spoon away.

“Here,” Beel took the spoon from Mammon. “Maybe it’s yucky like they said.”

Beel ate what was on the spoon, then smiled brightly. “You can really taste the mango!”

“See bud..? Beel likes it.” Mammon gestured at Beel, who was eating the entire jar of baby food as Belphie watched in amusement. He was such an asset to the team. “Beel! They need to eat!”

“Fine, let me try.” Belphie grabbed another spoon, and waved it in M!MC’s face. “Here comes the airplane... whoosh... whoosh...”

M!MC didn’t budge, Belphie knitted his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, be that way.”

Levi pushed open the door to the kitchen, and upon seeing the scene before him, immediately turned and tried to leave. “Nope! Food isn’t worth getting spit up all over me-”

Mammon lunged forward, grabbed the back of Levi’s jacket and practically yanked him into the kitchen, he slapped a spoon into his hand and smiled. “C’mon, do a favour for your super great big brother!”

The third born looked at M!MC, who defiantly stared back at him, the baby had the upper hand and the little brat knew it. Babies were so much cuter in anime...

Levi nervously stepped forward and held out the spoon like a weapon. “O-okay M-M-M!MC... you need to eat your food... pls... pls eat.”

M!MC said nothing, they only did what most babies did.

...

They spun their head 90 degrees until the back of their head was all Levi could see.

Everyone in the kitchen stood in complete silence, until Mammon jumped a foot in the air and started screaming bloody murder. “MY BABY!”

He dove forward and scooped M!MC up in his arms, the baby, obviously freaked out by the sudden loud noise, had begun to cry.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! Uh... uh...” Mammon looked around frantically. “Hush little baby don’t say a word... papas gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don’t sing, papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring... and if that diamond ring is brass, butitwon’tbebecauseyouroldmanwouldn’tgetcheatedlikethat-”

M!MC spun their head back to its correct position, but their crying sounds were now several octaves lower... It sounded like if someone put a baby in the Darth Vader mask but without the weird breathing sounds...

Mammon looked to Belphie. “I’m blankin’ on nursery rhymes! Ya hafta know some kid songs!”

Belphie, after being put on the spot, suddenly forgot every single nursery rhyme and lullaby any of his brothers had ever sung to him. Oh! A song popped into his head! He could sing that!

“Lizzie Borden took an axe, gave her mother forty whacks, when she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty one-”

“Not that one!” Mammon squeaked, holding M!MC closer to him. M!MC’s voice had returned to normal, the next problem is that they were only speaking in infernal. “Somethin’ else!”

“There was an old lady who swallowed a fly,” Beel began to sing. “I don’t know why she swallowed that fly... I forgot the rest of the song...”

“Dammit... Leviiiiii!” Mammon wheezed, desperately trying to calm the angrily growling M!MC. “Sing! Sing anything!”

“A-anything?” Only one song came to mind. “Uh um... With the doors of heaven and Hell barred, there is no other but the guard, Master of the Hellish Yard...”

Mammon lit up and nodded like Levi had just offered him a million Grimm. “Aw hell yeah! This song!”

He handed M!MC to Beel and began to dance and sing next to Levi, who had really gotten into the song as well!

“With those sins that you've committed, If you pay you'll be acquitted, and your crimes all permitted,” the two paused for dramatic effect before both belting out the best line in the song.

“ONLY ONES WITH CASH DO WELL, WELL AT LEAST IN HELL!”

As Levi and Mammon continued to sing, M!MC became so entranced by the dance, that they stopped their demonic babbling and just watched the second and third born dance and sing the English cover of an old vocaloid song. Belphie and Beel made brief confused eye contact to make sure the other twin was seeing the same thing.

The duo finished the song and took a bow, Beel lightly tapped M!MC’s chubby baby hands together to make it look like they were clapping. It was enough for Mammon and Levi.

“Thank you, thank you,” Mammon said. “We’ll be here forever, next show ain’t free.”

“We should sing The Tailor on Enbizaka next!”

“Levi! No! That song is like... seven minutes long!”

“Hey, morons,” Belphie stuck his thumb at M!MC. “They still haven’t eaten.”

Mammon’s triumphant expression dropped right to the floor. “Ah fuck...”

——————

“Satan, where’s L!MC-” Lucifer looked up at the ceiling of Satan’s room and his jaw dropped. “WHAT ARE THEY DOING UP THERE?!”

“I can’t get them down!” Satan hissed back.

L!MC. L!MC the BABY. They were on the ceiling. They were sitting upside down on the ceiling like it was an average Friday. Lucifer was too old for this shit...

“L!MC.” Lucifer held out his arms, L!MC squinted at him, that’s when Lucifer remembered L!MC was practically blind without their glasses. “L!MC, it’s your father, come here.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried calling them down like that?!” Satan spat as he quickly ran a hand through his hair.

Lucifer shot a glare at Satan, then Lucifer heard something that nearly made his (lack of) heart stop. Oh no- L!MC was yawning-

L!MC yawned and suddenly detached from the ceiling. Lucifer and Satan both dove forward to catch L!MC, which culminated in one of Satan’s piles of books falling down, but with L!MC safe and sound.

“Damn it.” Satan grumbled as Lucifer shifted to properly hold L!MC. “This is going to take forever to clean...”

“That was clean?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow as L!MC began to fuss slightly.

Satan growled and rolled his eyes. “Yes, it was clean thank you very much. I knew exactly where everything was.”

The cat that unofficially ruled the House of Lamentation pranced into Satan’s room like it didn’t have a care in the world, it began to bat at one of the loose papers that had been scattered around the floor. Detective Toe Beans, you’re an esteemed detective, and technically RAD’s mascot, stop that!

Satan scooped up the cat and began to put the books back in the pile, when Lucifer noticed a familiar, beat-up old book lying near the bottom of the pile.

“Ah, I remember this book,” Lucifer leaned down and picked it up, showing the cover to L!MC, who didn’t seem very interested and continued petting the fur part of Lucifer’s jacket. “It’s good for a bedtime story, right L!MC?”

Lucifer tucked the book under his arm and turned to leave when Satan practically shot upwards. “If you think you can just take that out of my room, you’re completely delusional.”

“Are you seriously going to whine about getting a bedtime story for L!MC?”

“CAT!” L!MC looked over Lucifer’s shoulder and reached for Detective Toe Beans. “CAT!”

“Yes L!MC, cat.” Lucifer whispered to them, then turned back to Satan. “And if I’m remembering correctly, I used to read this to you. Do you really want to deprive poor L!MC of bedtime stories from me?”

“Pff... deprive...” Satan rolled his eyes and huffed. “I’d be saving them. You were the only one who never did any voices for the characters, I was bored to sleep.”

Satan walked forward and swiped the book from Lucifer. “If anyone’s reading L!MC a bedtime story, it should be me. I’m twice the storyteller you’ll ever be.”

Lucifer scoffed. “Ridiculous. We’ll both read L!MC a story and they can tell us who did best when they get back to normal.”

“Fine by me.”

The three (four if you count Bean) were soon seated on the couch in Lucifer’s room. Lucifer took the first story.

Satan listened along and absentmindedly pet Bean, hearing a story he had heard over and over again had managed to bring back memories of a time where he had significantly less control over his wrath. Every night he’d demand a bedtime story or he’d throw a tantrum unlike anything the Devildom had ever seen.

The eldest was always there to swoop in and read Satan a story whenever the little ball of seething rage looked ready to kill the unfortunate brother who told him it was bedtime.

It had gotten to the point that Satan could recite most of the stories in the book completely by heart. He chuckled under his breath as he remembered the time he matter of factly told Lucifer that he’d be reading him the bedtime story that night and proceeded to pretend to read the story of The Hydra and the Pufferfish. He hadn’t actually learned to read, much to Lucifer’s dismay, Satan just memorized what to say and when to turn the pages.

Though, it was apparently impressive enough at the time to warrant a head pat from Lucifer.

The fourth born leaned closer to Lucifer to get a better look at the book’s illustrations. They were always slightly off and strange looking, much like the pictures in the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark book that L!MC had given Satan for his birthday.

Lucifer abruptly stopped reading.

“Why’d you stop?” Satan looked up at Lucifer, then over at L!MC. Aw... Satan didn’t even get a chance to read...

“Our audience has fallen asleep.” Lucifer stifled a yawn and prepared to close the book, Satan quickly shoved his hand on the page to stop him.

“You started reading,” Satan looked away and grumbled. “So at least finish the story...”

Lucifer smirked and opened the book back up. “If you insist, Satan.”

————————

Yayyyyy! Babies! I’m sure the three get back to normal by Monday... hopefully...

Here’s a link to the song Levi and Mammon are singing!

I hope you all enjoyed! As of the time I’m posting this, the next set of Lessons 1-5 Headcanons will be out tomorrow at 8:30 pm EST.

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

Either "I meant to grab the popcorn, not your crotch, sorry" or "there’s a real creep at the club trying to hit me up right now and you look pretty fit so pls pretend to be my date so he can leave" with taakitz? 👀 (both were so good I couldn't make up my mind lol)

Decided to go with "there’s a real creep at the club trying to hit me up right now and you look pretty fit so pls pretend to be my date so he can leave!" Thank you!!

-

Going to the club solo is rarely a good idea. When you go by yourself, you can’t bully the person you came with to take your picture in the cool club lighting so you either have to resort to using the self-timer or deign to ask someone to take a picture for you. And they never really turn out as good as you hoped; all weird angles and blurs instead. You’re also forced to bring your drink with you everywhere you go because you’re not about to leave it on the bar when you run and pee because you’re not an idiot. This means you either expose your drink to gross bathroom particles or you waste no less than $30 over the course of a night for all the half-drunk drinks you unceremoniously drop into the trash.

Sometimes going to the club solo is a good idea. When you go by yourself, nobody thinks you’re entangled with whoever you brought. Typically this means anything from free drinks to a dance partner to a quick hookup in the gross club bathroom. If you’re into that kind of thing.

Going to the club solo is an unequivocally bad idea. Mainly because you can’t pretend to be dating who you came with when some sleazy Eurotrash hipster decides that you’re the object of his affection for the evening. And because you don’t get a constant hand to squeeze if all your senses get a little overwhelmed and you realize you’re one accidental touch of an unknown sticky surface from committing arson.

Taako knows all of this, of course. If there was a book on club dos and donts, it would probably be easier to enumerate anything Taako hadn’t done. Life’s short and all that, right?

But what’s unfortunate is that knowledge of a thing doesn’t equate to knowing how to handle a thing. So while Taako knows that being hit on by some bleach blonde German dude is always a possibility when he goes to the club, that doesn’t make the reality of it any less hellish.

“Oh, come on darling, why the looking so glum?” The dude asks, leering at Taako with a vacant smile that seems too toothy.

“Stomachache.” Taako says bluntly. He hopes that if he can make this conversation as unpleasant as possible, creepy dude’ll leave him alone. And it isn’t even a lie, this whole situation is giving him a stomachache. Not that he particularly gives a shit about lying to a stranger.

Taako glances around discreetly as he looks for any semblance of an escape route. All he sees is the densely packed club. Shit.

“Hmm. Pity. Bigger pity someone pretty as you is standing here all by yourself. It looks like you are needing a uh dance partner.” A lascivious wink is sent Taako’s way.

Taako can feel himself squirm under this guy’s gaze. He seems harmless but still too creepy for Taako’s taste. And considering how low his standards gets when he drinks, that’s saying something.

“Not really looking for a dance partner, my dude.” Taako glances around again and scoots a little further away from this guy.

The guy takes a step closer and is giving Taako that same too toothy, too sharp smile. “What are you looking for then? I am sure I can be of the assistance with whatever you are needing.” He reaches a hand out towards Taako.

Taako stiffens, takes one more step back, and feels himself collide with something solid. Bingo. With barely a glance at whoever he just bumped into, he snakes his arm around this person. “My man, I get that I’m the hottest person in here by a country mile but I don’t appreciate being hit on while I’m on a date!” Taako glances at the bastard he’s roped into this mess. He smiles a little; guy has a real kind, handsome face. Definitely could have picked worse.

If the guy is confused, he doesn’t show it. He narrows his eyes slightly as he casts a glance between Taako and the other guy, whose smile drops from his face in an instant.

Taako grins and gets on his tiptoes. He places a steadying hand on the man’s chest as his lips nearly brush the shell of his ear. “I’ll buy your next round if you keep up this charade until this guy leaves,” Taako murmurs quietly. He returns his heels to the floor and raises his eyebrows a millimeter.

In lieu of a response, his temporary date wraps a protective arm around Taako’s shoulders.

“There you are babe! I got worried you ran off on me,” he says with an easy smile.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Just got caught up on my way back from the bathroom,” Taako says, sending an icy glare to tall, blonde, and creepy.

“Hmm, I sense we are having a misunderstanding. You see, I was not aware that you were having a date.”

Taako squeezes his temporary date’s side while leaning into him. “Well, I am and I gotta say, I don’t appreciate the interruption.” He smiles as he feels himself being pulled in a little closer. Taako has to give the guy credit, he’s selling it well.

“Yeah, so if you don’t mind, we’d really like to get back to it,” his temporary date says, a stern edge creeping into his voice.

Taako breathes a sigh of relief as his nuisance of the night gives one final scowl before stomping off to another part of the club. “Hey, uh, thanks for that. Normally I can give dudes the slip pretty easy but he was persistent.” He glances back at guy who doesn’t seem to be in any big rush to move his arm from Taako’s shoulders. Not that Taako minds, exactly.

“No, don’t thank me, it’s no big deal. You okay?”

Taako nods. “I’m all good. Now, I do think I owe you a drink, handsome.”

This elicits a grin and a deep flush from his new friend.

“I’ll take a rum and coke.”

“Hmm.”

He laughs. “My drink choice not up to your standards?”

“It’s not anything with gin so I guess you’re okay,” Taako says with a smirk as he waves down a bartender. “Rum and coke for him, vodka sour for me.”

“I’m Kravitz, by the way. Figured it’s about time we were properly acquainted.”

“Taako. And you know what, Kravitz? You were really believable back there.”

“I guess being your date comes naturally.” Kravitz smiles at Taako as the bartender slides their drinks across the bar.

“I mean, I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Taako says, sipping his drink.

“Seems to be the best way I could spend my evening,” Kravitz says evenly.

“Well, play your cards right and we’ll see how the night goes.”

As Kravitz gives Taako a crooked smile, Taako has to think that going to the club solo has one benefit.

[twonderland]

☆*:.｡ NRC HAS A MAID CAFE ?!? .｡.:*☆

Note: sooo this is my first writing ! Omg I’m so nervous I have never written for any fandom before but I wish this goes well 🙏🏻😂 anyway, hope y’all like it and if you have any thoughts about it pls comment I would really appreciate it ☺️💖💖

Summary: NRC was organizing a school festival to attract new students and also to let the guys have a day of fun and chill. However the dorm leaders were out of ideas while deciding what activities they were gonna have, until you decided to talk about some options of what your school used to do in this kind of events (before coming to twisted wonderland), most of those activities were really alike to what NRC already had, except one thing ...

- when you mentioned that in your “dimension” there was different options that could be introduced in NRC at the festival he was actually pretty interested. Obviously he would have to make some changes so that “activities” could fit in Heartslabyul rules but, he never thought that he could have the opportunity to see you in such an ... outfit.

- Who does he think he can fool ? He’s a blushing mess and can’t even look at you in the face. How can he ? The moment you got out of your room with that white coping, that really short skirt, and oh god the stockings

- You look so cute and obedient and hfkogkebdiej

- The plan was simple, you were a “maid” and the boys attending the clients at your side were butlers, easy ! Except from the part of talking to you

- He’s angry because he can’t believe that such an outfit has this power over him and he thinks “god Riddle get yourself together and just talk to her about the menu” but somehow you think he’s angry for some strange reason since he tends to get all red face when he is angry (poor bean he’s trying his best to not collapse)

- HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! HE DIDNT HAVE SUCH A HARD UPBRINGING FOR NOTHING !! he goes with a straight face to your direction and then .... “(y/n) ! Have you learn your lines ?! Customers need the best of attention from this establishment !!” (Riddle this is just a classroom turned into a maid cafe, chill)

- “Ah sure Riddle-senpai, just look *you clear your throat* Welcome home master !!”

- Riddle.exe has stopped responding

- what ? A maid cafe ? Isn’t it just like the rest of the maids at his palace in Afterglow Savana ? He’s used to being attended by this kind of servitude at his homeland but he had never seen Classic or French (I leave that to your imagination ☺️) maid style

- He thinks “ohoho this can be quit interesting” and has that smug smirk in his face, OF COURSE he’s gonna take this opportunity to tease you

- However after he sees you in that cute and tempting outfit, for a little moment (just a little moment) he doesn’t want to admit it he goes shy, stops just a moment to admire you from head to toe in your outfit, you go like “what? “ and then he just shrugs it out just in time before you notice “hmph are you some kind of panda ?”

- Seems like he doesn’t care but actually you never get out of his view, he drinks his woman respect juice every morning but not the rest of the students

- If he sees that some idiot gets a little too close to you he may roar from across the cafe and shoot some killing glares to those idiots and problem solved

- Don’t get it wrong, he’s still Leona and may slide the tip of his tail under your skirt a little ... just a little 😏

- He listens to all your descriptions of the activity of the maid cafe, takes notes and adds some good ideas so everything’s on point

- He’s pretty chill the majority of the time while preparing everything, he even helped you to practice your lines so you could attend customers with the best training !

- Until ... he saw you in character. It was kind of a self goal since he told you to not get out of character when you wear your uniform, how fool and unfortunate (lucky) soul he was

- “Ashengrotto- sama ? I had some doubts about the menu ...” “yes ? (Y/...n)”

- his glasses break

- Azul.exe has stopped responding x2

- His mind can’t process all the things that are going on, you , on a cute really really short skirt, calling him “sama” with your innocent voice, and OH LOOK AT THAT

- THIGHTS

- he didn’t know he had a thing for thights until this day

- Tries to solve all your doubts without stuttering but fails miserably

- Thinks really seriously in a way to make you sign a contract where you accept to wear that outfit whenever you visit octavinelle (azul that’s practically impossible but ok try 😂)

- OMG A MAID CAFE ?! It’s foreign and interesting !! This guy is all in after you finish to talk about your idea

- Kalim is also used to being all pampered and having hundreds of people attending him at all times so he’s really curious about what is the difference between what he knows and what you know

- You tell him that is nothing too awesome, but is more to have fun in getting into character of “master and servant” BUT NOTHING IS BORING IF YOU ARE IN IT he tells you that you don’t need to worry and he just wants to participate in the experience

- He doesn’t assist as a butler but like a customer, and the night before the event he can’t sleep from the excitement, “Jamil, how do you think is a maid ?” “Idk Kalim sleep now” “ne~ ne~ Jamil do you think that (y/n) will call me master? tehehe” “OMG KALIM ENOUGH” poor Jamil he also couldn’t get enough sleep that night

- He’s one of the first clients to arrive and oh god ... when he finds you. He doesn’t know what is it with that uniform that it makes you look ADORABLE AND BEYOND also ... kind of .... ?? (Sexy kalim the word you look for is sexy) he just doesn’t know how to react the very first seconds but doesn’t last long until

- “Kalim-sama ! Welcome back, we are so enlightened to see you again”

- What is this ? Why is he feeling funny things in his stomach, every time he’s called like that in his palace it doesn’t happen anything, is something of everyday but now...

- “.... kalim-sama ?” “AH ! Sorry sorry ! Haha I zoned out , say ... could you say that again ? It was so fun !” “Uh.. hu, of course, if that’s my master’s wish !! ☺️” (HAPPY BOY HAPPY BOY HAPPY BOY)

- He probably is inside the maid cafe for very long time just to hear you every time you come around

- “Is everything alright master ? Would you like something else ?” “YES ! One more parfait please !! “ meanwhile Jamil is like “KALIM STOP, YOU HAVE ALREADY ORDERED 30 PARFAITS !!!, what are we going to do with all of this ?!”

- “the potato ? As a servant ? That’s hilarious” Vil is aware of all the maid thing since where he comes from wealthy families tend to have this kind of employees in their mansions

- NEVERTHELESS he can’t have a girl/boy in NRC dressed as a maid and you NOT 👏🏻 BEING 👏🏻 ON 👏🏻 POINT

- DRESS ! Check HIGH HEELS ! check STOCKINGS ! Check .... he goes on and on

- “Vil-senpai, I’m really grateful that you have taken your time to help me but don’t you think that your dorm also needs help-?” “SHUT UP GRACELESS POTATO we are not getting out this classroom until you learn how to move graciously in those high heels between tables while holding the tray , NOW LETS START AGAIN”

- At the end of the day somehow you have managed to make him happy, the next day you will show all your effort to Vil !

- He comes with Rook, it seems that he’s looking for you with his eyes but when you look back at him you never expect to receive such a gentle and proud look

- “Vil/senpa- ! I mean ... “Vil-sama !! Welcome ☺️” you say nervous yet excited to see him there. “Good enough, it looks like even dirty potatoes can turn into princess” (you are like “wait I’m the maid here, not a princess 😅”)

- Vil leans forward and puts a string of hair behind you ear and says in a low voice so only you can hear “a really pretty potato indeed”

- He enters the maid cafe and leaves you blushing in the entrance

- “Are we gonna treat ourselves or what potato ?! “ “ ah ! I’m so sorry master !!”

- Vil has a satisfied smile

- He is so grateful that every time he attends councils is via LIVE ‘cause the moment you said “maid cafe” he spilled the beverage he was drinking

- “m-m-m-mAID CAFÉ ?!” He can’t believe this is happening, for some seconds he can feel a creepy smile appearing in his face until ...

- “But how am I going to go to the cafe ?, I can have Ortho going there but knowing him he will focus the camera on desserts and not in (y/n) costume ... NOT THAT IM A CREEP OR SOMETHING Ijustwanttoseearealmaidinaction well is not that she’s/he’s “real” per say but-“

- Ortho is listening to all his mumbling from back his seat

- “Onii-chan 😊”

- “Ah... what is it Ortho ?”

- “Just go 😠”

- It took A LOT from his little brother to convince him to go and look for you

- The day of the festival it was CROWDED as hell and he was sooo grateful that the classroom where you were having the cafe had a window that had a view to one of the gardens

- He was peeking all the movement from the window looking for you, but some minutes passed and he started thinking (what am I thinking ? Obviously she’s not gonna see me from here ... but entering is NOT an option either ... maybe I just should go-) “Iidia-San?”

- You scared the crap out of him, he was lost in thought but thanks to that he didn’t go

- “Ah! Sorry sorry, Um ... (you remember your character) “iidia-sama, is something the matter ? Why are you out there ?”

- Perhaps Zeus had pity on his soul. You look SO CUTE SO ADORABLE SO SEXY-

- “Uh.... no, it’s just ... there’s a lot of noise inside” you know about his anxiety and you tell him “well, doesn’t my master want something ? I can bring him anything he desires to this window if Iidia-sama wishes”

- He just had a nosebleed

- “I-Iidia- sama ?!” “Ah ! Sorry .... Um yeah o-one crepe... p-please”

- He goes back to Ignihyde with a delicious crepe and a memory of you calling him master... but wait a sec...

- “WHY DIDNT I BROUGHT A CAMERA?!?!?!?!” “I ALSO COULD HAVE RECORDED HER/HIS VOICE DAMN IT!!!!”

- maid ... cafe ? This is interesting

- He was processing everything, from the concept and your explanation to all of the reactions that caused in the guys

- (Why were they so shocked ? Well I guess I will have to find out)

- He’s royalty and everyone calls him “sama” all the time, well except from Lilia, so he thinks that a bunch of butlers calling him that again isn’t any different ... but you 🤔

- How intriguing, you always call him “senpai” or “san” ... now this have caught his attention

- His dorm was organizing everything quite well and as usual Diasomnia had really disciplined members so his presence wasn’t really that necessary so he went to Lilia and asked him about this “maid cafes”

- Lilia knew about the maids but also didn’t understand the concept of mixing maids and cafes, but Lilia being the little devil he was he said some ... funny information that could intrigue Malleus

- “They are humans, but just like pixies they charm every man when they see them” “charm them ? But (y/n) is human ... how can she/he charm anyone ?” “Hehehe you will understand when you see her/him”

- The day arrived, and oh yeah, Lilia was right, he was expecting you to be little and with wings, leaving pixie dust behind but no ... it was just you with a strange yet cute little skirt and fluffy sleeves... your eyes looked at him and your little cheeks tainted a light shade of pink ... (what is this ? I can’t stop looking at her/him) he was in daze

- “Umm .... Malleus-sama ?”

- “Uh .... I’m sorry, so this is a maid ... you are quite powerful”

- “ uh.. hu” you just said your lines when you saw him but he didn’t seem to have listened to you so you decide to repeat them

- “Welcome back Malleus- sama ! We are so enlightened to receive you !!”

- Again .... he’s dazed , but this time he did hear you, so acting a little weird he enters the cafe, you handle him the menu and explain the recommendations

- You are so nervous trying to remember all your lines that you don’t notice it but Malleus is admiring everything about you with loving eyes

- You take his order and go to the kitchen (he honestly doesn’t know what the hell he just ordered since he isn’t familiar with the dishes but anyway)

- Maybe he doesn’t notice himself but he’s looking at you everywhere you go with a little smile on his face

- “Maybe (y/n) has magic after all”

[yoongimain]

Ghosted - MYGxOC - One Shot

Summary: I moved on. I truly believed that I did. It really is cursed that we have the same friend group

Pairing: Yoongi x F!Reader | Mentions of other BTS members

Genre: Angst, Heart break, Growth. 

Rating: 18+ 

Warnings: Profanity, Alcohol, Cigarettes (it’s no good for you don’t do it pls), Driving under the influence (please don’t be a murderer), Namjoon DRIVING (please idk it was too late)

Words: 3,795

Yoongi - 1993

Ji Sora - 1994

Yoongi had a tough time opening up to people, but he told me everything. He opened up about his family, his heartbreaks and trauma. He was always a vulnerable, open book with me. I could always feel like myself around him, without any restriction.

We stuck with each other through everything. I held him when he cried, and he would lay beside me when I needed him, too. It could have been the comfort he gave, or the fact that I was a raging empath. All I knew was that I fell helplessly and recklessly in love with him. 

I cared about him so much, but in the end we were just friends. 

Of course, there was always an opportunity for me to finally tell him how I felt. How going to the market with him felt like we were an old couple, especially when we fought over which toilet paper to buy. How waking up on his chest and listening to his soft snores felt like paradise. Or even how anywhere feels like home with his arms around me. 

Even in all these opportune moments, I never mentioned a thing. Yoongi’s commitment issues applied to everyone and anyone. 

If he felt confused about a relationship: Ghosted. 

If someone had feelings for him: Ghosted. 

If someone makes him feel awkward or embarrassed: Ghosted. 

There was even a few months where he completely ignored Hoseok after he threw up in the latter’s bed after a bar crawl. 

I guess I always knew deep down that one day, it would then apply to me. 

It was unexpected when it happened, though. It was just one canceled plan after another, then ignoring my texts a few days at a time. He even stopped picking up calls after a while. 

Hey… I’m not sure if you just need more time or how I can help, but please let me know if I did something wrong. I miss you. 

To my dismay, there was still a dense silence on the other end. 

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, months now a year. Now I lay on my couch at- what is it? Ten something at night? Scrolling through our year-old messages hoping to find an answer to his new behavior toward me, since it was the only thing left after he had blocked me on everything else. 

A knock on my door had pulled me from my thoughts and I dragged myself along to open it. 

“Afternoon, sunshine!” At the door stood Namjoon, with a few cans of beer in a plastic bag.

“Hey, what brings you here?” I asked, stepping aside for him to come through the door. 

“I’m here to pregame with you, and take you to Jin’s grad party with me.” He says, handing me the bag and clumsily taking his shoes off. 

Namjoon has been coming over these last couple of days to see me, and distract me from the self torment I have been putting myself through over the loss of my best friend. 

“I told you I wasn’t going to go, big head.” I say, shutting the door and making my way back to the couch. 

I slumped onto the couch, lying face down. I could hear Namjoon’s shuffling as he followed me and plopped himself onto the floor beside me.

“I won’t have any fun without you, Sora. Besides, what else are you going to be doing here? Crying over him again?” He said, finally cracking open a can of brew. 

I rolled my eyes and turned to him with a huff. “This isn’t about him, Joon. I’m just too tired to go out okay?” 

“Oh, so you weren’t on your phone reading the same messages from forever ago and wallowing in self pity before I got here?” He snickered at my silence. “Cat’s got your tongue?” 

I punched his shoulder and reached my hand out for him to pass me a beer. I sat up and cracked the cool can for myself, taking a long swig. 

“He never really said if he was coming or not. But either way, Jin would really like for you to be there.” He said, turning his whole body to me. 

It was difficult to wrap myself around the situation. Why it was that Yoongi was ignoring me, and yet all at the same time he was still keeping in touch with our friends all the same. 

“It’s fine. I am over it. Really.” I lied, taking another sip of the cold beer. 

“Good, then go to your room and get dressed. We leave after these are finished.” He pointed to the four cans of beer left in the bag. 

--

“He never mentioned anything about it. When your name is brought up, he would just walk away. We don’t even know.”  Namjoon reassures me after my question about Yoongi. 

“It’s too confusing for me to even think about anymore.” I said, finishing off the last of my beer while Namjoon drove us to the usual club we go to. I pulled the passenger mirror down and fixed my cleavage in my royal blue bodysuit. 

Confusing is definitely one way to put the situation between Yoongi and I.  At this point down the line, I don’t know what else I could have done differently.

I always took off of work to go out and support his gigs. I always planned his birthdays, and made room for him in every single aspect of my life. Now, there is just this empty part of my life that has been missing.

“What if he is there?” Namjoon asked, his eyes locked on the road before him.

“Hello? Did you not hear what I just said?” I asked, picking at the fishnets under my ripped denim high-waisted shorts.

The thought of Yoongi being there is enough to make my stomach ache, as it is exactly what I was afraid of. I know how confrontational I will be if I see Yoongi. To be honest, not only was I hurt, I was angry. 

“I don’t know.” I replied. “There is a fifty-fifty chance I will tell him to fuck himself, or I will actually be over it and drink to utter belligerence.” 

That actually sounds really nice. 

“Well I hope it’s the second one.” He laughs, pulling into the parking garage. “Not to say he doesn’t deserve the other option, though. 

---

“Sora! Joonie! You made it!” Jin flashes his bright smile and pulls me in for a hug the second I walked into the VIP room. 

Jin and Namjoon’s parents invest in this club, so we always receive top priority when we come.

“I had to come for you, are you kidding?” The rest of the boys are already here, laughing and drinking in their natural state. Jimin was cracking up on the couch as Jungkook and Taehyung drunkenly danced around. 

My entire body stills at the sight of one person. The one I have been longing to see for months, and the same person deliberately ignoring my existence. 

He wore the black jacket that I got for his birthday two years ago. His hair was now a bright orange and a little longer than what it was. He looked brighter in many ways, but what really stole my attention was the person right under his arm. 

She leaned on him like it was somewhere she belonged. He held her by her shoulder, smiling at whatever it was she just whispered in his ear. 

I’ve never seen her before, but everything about her was perfect. The way she laughed, how her hand fit right into his. 

Everything.

“Well get in here you two! We’ve got open bar tonight!” Jin tugged me along, my eyes never leaving Yoongi once. 

“Guys, look who we have here!” Jin announced with his arm around my shoulder. 

“Sora!” Jungkook and Taehyung put their dancing on pause to greet me, and Jimin poured two shot glasses for Namjoon and I. 

Taehyung wrapped his arms around me and swayed me back and forth. 

“Sora! It's been so long, and you look amazing!” He squeezed me in his arms and we nearly fell to the floor. 

“Thank you Tae!” I held him by his arms to stand him upright again. He dipped down and kissed my cheek. 

My eyes go back to Yoongi, who was now drinking his usual Old Fashioned. The girl leaning on his shoulder was staring at me now with a smile on her face. I smiled back and Namjoon had pulled me along with him to the opposite side of the couch. 

I didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that Yoongi was still ignoring me, the girl on his arm, or the fact that she doesn’t know what he and I have been through.

We are now sitting directly across from Yoongi and his friend. My heart clenched as he smiled at her and brushed her fringe from her face.

I crossed one leg over another and Namjoon had placed an arm over my shoulder. He gave me a reassuring smile, silently lending me his support. 

Yoongi watched silently, his fingers gripping tightly onto his glass now. 

“Alright you two!” Jimin slurred his words. “You have got some catching up to do.” He sloppily passed us the two shot glasses he prepared before and held his own up after. We quickly took the shot and I watched as Namjoon’s face twisted at the taste of the bitter liquid. 

“Another one!” Jungkook shouts, coming over to pour another shot into our glasses. 

“Namjoon is driving, I’ll drink for him.” I say, picking up the glass from the table and throwing it back. The second shot was significantly worse than the first.

“Ooh, what is going on here?” Jin asked in a joking manner, nudging Namjoon on the arm. 

“Nothing man.” Namjoon responds as he pours me a glass of soda. His comment made Yoongi scoff. 

Our eyes met for just a quick second before he turned his attention back to the girl who was fiddling with his rings now. 

“Whatever you say- Hey let's go dance!” Jin says, quickly changing the subject. 

“Yes! Let’s go, Sora!” Jungkook says, reaching for my hand that was resting freely on Namjoon’s thigh. 

I quickly threw back the third shot and chased it with the soda before following the youngest to the dance floor. 

There were far too many thoughts racing through my mind now. Too many memories that I thought I have forgotten, suddenly front and center. 

But we are over it now, Sora. 

The rest of the boys followed shortly after and began to take over the dance floor. Jungkook stayed close to me, wrapping one arm around my waist and holding me close as we swayed to the rhythm. 

Girls flocking Jimin and Tae the second they step foot onto the dance floor, Jin and Namjoon were awkwardly swaying to the music together. 

I half expected Yoongi to be at the party, and I really thought I would be more prepared to see him considering it has already been a year since it all happened. However, now I feel like I’ve been thrown through a whirlwind of emotions. 

The music has switched up to more upbeat songs. The boys cheered and I tried to keep up, but I kept falling behind. My mind was too occupied with thoughts of Yoongi, holding on to someone else. 

How did they meet? What did she say to make him change his mind and commit to someone? 

If I said it first, would things be different? 

I pulled Jungkook’s arm off of me and smiled at him. I pointed over to Jimin and Tae who were still occupying the dance floor. He nodded in understanding and pulled away to our friends who needed some help with the amount of girls circling around them. 

I stepped away from the lit floor and sweaty bodies to take a seat at the bar. As busy as the bar was, the bartenders always seemed to keep their cool. 

“Hey Sora! What can I get for you?” The bartender asked. It is always funny how the bartenders can recognize me, and I could never register any of their names to memory. 

“Hey, can you just give me a bottle of whatever?” I asked, exhausted with the events of the night already. 

“Yeah, dark or light?” He asked, setting a chilled glass in front of me. 

“Dark. Matter of fact, just give me one of Yoongi’s bottles.” I rested my chin on my hand and pointed to the various top-shelf whisky bottles. 

“You got it!” He turned and reached for the bottle and slid it over my way. “I’ll tab it to the room, feel free to take it with you.” He winked and turned to the next customer, taking another order.

I poured myself a glass of the brown liquid. As the liquid filled the glass, I watched the ice crack at the contact. I set the glass down and drink the dark liquid slowly. The bitter taste leaves my tongue numb. 

“You fucking suck at drinking.” Yoongi handed me a can of coke to wash down the whiskey that I stole a drink of. 

“No, Yoongi, I enjoy drinking things that don’t taste like they came from sewage.” I chugged the can of soda to relieve myself of the painful burn. 

“I already told you, you didn’t need to drink this with me.” He said, leaning back with his arm on the back of the couch. 

I leaned into his side and took the glass from his hands again, not paying any attention to the horror movie playing on the screen. 

“What kind of friend would I be if I let you drink by yourself?” I asked, forcing another gulp of the strong liquor. 

“Besides-” I start before washing the devilish drink down. “I’m sure the taste will go away soon.” 

He chuckled and pulled me in closer to continue watching the movie that I have long forgotten. 

After all this time, I have finally learned to enjoy the crisp feeling of whiskey. The taste was numbing, and all other pain I felt subsided alongside the stringing at the back of my throat. I understand now why it was his favorite. 

My arms began to feel lighter, my face was warmer now too. As much as I would like to lose my focus, the only thing on my mind now is Yoongi. 

Only the bittersweet memories are left in my mind. His silent laughter that shook through his shoulders. The cute scrunches of his nose when he felt shy. The fiery passion in his eyes when he performed on stage. 

The recognition of him, happily with someone else, hits me far too hard for me to be okay. 

For once I just want to stop lying to myself. Stop lying to my friends and pretending that I am fine.

I downed the entire glass and poured another. The burn of the whiskey brought tears to my eyes. 

“So, why are you not up in the room?” The bartender asked as he wiped down his work space. 

“The boys came down to dance for a moment.” I answered, downing another glass. ”Say, I have a question.” I asked, wiping my lips off. 

“Shoot.” He said, leaning onto the bar to hear me better.

“What would you do if someone drops you, and you don’t hear from them for say- a year? And you see them again?” I asked, slightly slurring my words now. 

The bartender pours me another glass of whiskey and sets it down before answering. 

“I guess that depends on what I want from them.” He responds, watching me throw back another glass. 

“I just want answers. Why I was ghosted and blocked out of nowhere, and why he- why he acts like- like-” I sighed and slammed the glass back onto the bar top. 

He smiled and poured me another glass, also handing me a glass of water as a reminder to slow down. 

“Well- I guess one thing I would want to do is remind myself that the people in my life have chosen me.” He sighed and watched my reaction closely, making sure he wasn't saying the wrong thing. “And if they don’t, then that is all the closure I would ever need.” 

I closed my eyes and felt how his words pierce right through my soul. 

Yoongi didn’t choose me. 

He did not choose me. 

“Thank you for your honesty.” I sighed and took a quick sip of the water he put in front of me. 

“Hey, no problem.” 

A deep sigh rips through my chest, and I pick up the bottle. I picked up the bottle and pressed the rim to my lips, dragging the whiskey down in gulps. I wanted to take the ache away, the feeling of being unwanted that has haunted me for the last year. 

Sliding off of the bar stool, I stood still to settle myself back on my feet. I trusted my feet to take me where I needed to be. 

I held onto the wall and walked back up to the VIP section, passing the door to our private room and out to the patio. The world spinned, faces were no longer recognizable. My knees buckled as I approached the patio door, bottle in hand. 

After pulling the door open, the crisp summer wind blows right into my face, further blurring my  vision. The only thing I can see is a lone person, standing near the railing that watches over the starry night sky. 

“Are you okay?” The person asked, slightly muffled and holding a cigarette in his lips. 

“No, I am not okay.” I say honestly. “The person I’ve wanted to see for so long is here, but he is with someone.” 

I hear him take a deep breath, and with an almost recognizable voice he beckons me to come near. I took staggered steps, almost giving out before I leaned onto the railing as well. 

“I’m sorry stranger- I don’t mean to put that on to you so suddenly.” I wiped my eyes and brought the bottle back up to my lips. 

“What are you drinking thats got you all fucked?” He asked before taking another drag of his burning cigarette. 

“Whiskey. I used to hate this stuff.” I said, holding it up to my lips again for another slip. 

“Why did you start drinking it?” He asked. 

I brought my attention up to the moon and stared for a minute. 

“It feels good. The stinging pain, and the numbness that comes afterward.” I say, holding up the bottle to the moonlight. “It was a remedy to help me forget everything.” I took another swig of the dark liquor, completely losing count of how much of this I have had by now. 

“It isn’t working tonight though.” I slurred, fully resting my weight on the rail now. 

“On the contrary, I think you���ve had too much.” The man says. He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it over my shoulder. 

“Thanks.” I whispered. 

He asked me if I was going back inside yet, but I declined. 

“Yoongi is in there, and I don’t think I can take much more of seeing the man I love with someone else.” I huffed. “I also don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.” 

He just mumbled a quick “Okay.” and went back inside. 

I crouched and took a seat right beneath the railing, firmly pressing my back into the glass. I finished off the bottle of whiskey and smiled in triumph. 

You aren’t the only one that has changed, Yoongi. 

I leaned my head back and watched the stars shine over the sky. The stars all blurred into the night sky, leaving small shimmers along the world. 

“Hey!” A low voice booms through the patio from the door. I look over to a tall figure coming toward me. 

The person comes over and sticks their hand out to me. With focus, I can make out Namjoon’s concerned face as he waits for me. 

I can feel my face burn as my eyes glaze over. I looked down and let my tears fall freely. 

“I’m sorry Joon.” I whispered. 

He sighed and pulled me up by my arm, allowing me to rest my head on his hard chest. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” He says while wrapping his arms around me, swaying me along with the breeze to soothe my shaking form. 

“Yeah.” I sniffled, completely spent and drunk. I wrapped my arms around his waist, fingers still clad around the neck of the bottle. “The bartender said that Yoongi didn’t choose me.”

“Do you still want to talk to him?” Namjoon asked with a soothing voice. 

My memories with Yoongi come through my mind. All the good, and all the bad. Memories that kept me sane for so long. Also memories that are no longer ours to make. 

So the question really did shake me. Did I want to talk to him? 

At the bottom of my heart I know I do. I deserve an explanation for his actions. However, things may just be better as beautiful memories instead of cruel memories. 

“I- I don’t think so.” I whispered. “I don’t want to.” 

“Okay, Well let's get going.” He moves back and crouches, allowing me to climb onto his back.

I put down the bottle of nearly finished whiskey and slipped my arms through the jacket that was draped over my shoulders. When I leaned onto Namjoon, he wrapped his arms under me to push me upward as he stood, slightly bouncing up to secure his hands under me. 

“Namjoon?” I asked, leaning my head against his shoulder blade. 

“Hmm?” He said, gradually walking toward the door leading back to the VIP section. 

“Thank you.” I said, drifting off into tiresome slumber. 

His words of response were too far away now as my breath mellows. 

-

 “Namjoon! Where are you going?” 

Namjoon briefly turned around, trying his best to not drop you as he maneuvered through the club hallway.

“Oh, Hey. Just going to take Sora home.” Namjoon responded to Jin who has finally rallied up the bro’s 

Yoongi had his arm around the girl, yet his attention never once left your sleeping form. Your words on the patio are still fresh in his mind. 

“Anyways- I’ll catch y'all later.” Namjoon says, readjusting you on his back. 

“And Yoongi-” He says on his way out. “I don’t know what you said to her out there, but you know what she deserves.” 

The older man just clenched his jaw and turned his attention back to his partner, who sported a confused look as Namjoon finally left. 

[cinnamonest]

I’m pushing out another one of my long-since-drafted things to the queue bc I’m trying to start keeping the queue active 24/7 and fill more asks but have this in the meantime

//dark shit, like the blood gore violence kind of yandere not the hot kind, brief animal death, gruesome slow npc death, gore, violence, blood, decaying/putrefaction mention

I'm really bad at judging what's mild versus severe when it comes to gore/blood bc I tend to underestimate, I think this is kinda severe? Let me know which it is actually pls so I have a better idea for the future ---------------------------------------- I mentioned a while back in the corpse disposal post and murder methods post that Razor can be... Brutal to say the least, but to expand more on the concept I feel like there's a big potential for a sort of gap moe with him, a duality that seems to contradict itself. Because in many ways he's a sweetheart, always trying to find things to make you happy, often smiling with those wide, excited eyes, physically affectionate with nuzzles and the like. But the other side of that, he's not actually aware of how... desensitized he is. You notice it early on and it catches you off guard a bit the first time it happens. Some poor little animal you two see struggling, like a bird stuck in a tree, and you urge him to go get it and he nods and says ok. Grabs it, and just as you're about to thank him and let it go you hear its little bones snap under the crush of his grip with a final pained chirp. There, he got it, see? Now you two can eat it together. That was why you wanted him to grab it right? To kill it? Why else? He looks down and realizes oh, it's still twitching, so he reached a hand up and twists its neck. There, now it's dead, he says with a beaming smile. But it falls and he tilts his head when he sees the shocked look on your face. What's wrong? Why are you so upset? You soon learn a lot of the animals don't... die immediately. The little things the wolves drag back are still kicking and struggling, still making noises as they tear into them to devour. It makes you sick to your stomach when you witness it, tears come to your eyes. He knows you don't like it and warns you, but... he doesn't understand why? Why does it upset you like that? He doesn't get it. It's a gnawing awareness in the back of your mind. You start to pick up on his... lack of reactions to certain things. You were once in the church getting healing for a minor wound of his when another group of adventurers came rushing through the doors, desperately begging for help for their friend they were carrying... some guy seriously injured, gored by a boar. The sight is burned in your mind forever, the organs spilling out of his split gut, the shivering and wide, bloodshot eyes, the blood bubbling out of his mouth with choked horrific groans and the way his body convulsed involuntarily. The most horrid thing you'd ever seen. And you were pretty certain it was that way for everyone. Everyone in the church was gasping, some people were retching and trying to hold back sickness, people ran out of the room as they were unable to handle the scene, tears were in everyone's eyes, and as the man wailed in agony from them setting his dislocated bones, you watched the bystanders cringe and wince. Every person in the vicinity was visibly horrified.... except for one. Razor's face was neutral. Curious. He leaned in closer to get a better look, eyebrows raised. He doesn't flinch at the sight of organs spilling onto the ground and the man starting to convulse and foam at the mouth as his eyes roll back into his head. And then, after a moment, he asks if you're ready to leave, says he feels better now and that man is really loud, he doesn't like it. His voice doesn't even have the slightest hint of a wavering or discomfort. When you come across a man in the woods caught in a bear trap, you can barely stand to look at it. Just hearing the cries for help had you shivering, and the sight of the pooling blood and utter agony on the man's face had you gasping, hand over your mouth as you tried to look away. ...Razor didn't seem to mind, though. He just undoes the trap and, without giving the man any warning, yanks it apart, pulling the spikes from his legs. As he does, blood shoots out and splatters on his face. He doesn't flinch, nor when the man screams. He does finally seem to react to the pained groans the man makes. But... It's not like your reactions. He's not flinching and grimacing, drawing in sharp breaths and tensing up, eyes watering in pity and shock like you. Instead, his eyes narrow and he puts his hands over his ears as you stoop down to help the poor man. His eyebrows furrow. He almost looks... Annoyed. He draws his foot back as if he's about to kick him, but freezes with realization when he looks at you, as if he forgot you were standing there, and puts his foot back down. You're certain he wasn't actually going to do that, of course. You're not sure why he did that, but... He wouldn't do something like that, even in a moment of dissociation from his human awareness. He does volunteer to be the one to go get help, though, getting away fast, but for some reason you sense it was more out of irritation at the noise rather than horror at the whole thing. Perhaps the worst was the decomposing body, that day you took a walk in the woods together. He smelled it first, nose wrinkling up in disgust at the putrid smell. But it was strong enough that you smelled it soon after. He says having dead animals this close to the residence of the pack is not good, they all hate the smell, so he can try to move the carcass of whatever animal it is... but it's not an animal, it turns out, once you finally find the source, collapsed at the bottom of a cliff from where they most likely fell to their death. Well, it's kind of a stretch to say it still resembles a human either, but you can tell from the general shape. It's more just like a glob, putrefied and rotting flesh falling off the bones. It shocks you so much you fall backwards, but he just moves closer. Ugh, too far rotted to move, he can't do anything about it, he realizes as he gives the decaying mass a kick and watches the blackened flesh slide off the bones. Oh well. ...In your shock, it takes you a moment to realize how... unbothered he seems. Mildly annoyed by the smell, but his expression is neutral as he looks at one of the most horrifying sights you've ever seen, he just yawns as he walks away from it and says you two should get away from the smell, it makes his head hurt.

The events all linger in the back of your head. A growing sense of wrongness, a dark, cold dread that settles in your stomach as the occurrences slowly grow in number, one after the other, each time you notice the complete lack of any sign of disturbance on his face, in his voice or body language. You ask him once, one time when you get the courage to ask such a... potentially offensive question. Don't you... feel anything when you see things dying? When they're in pain? He nods. He gets what you mean. The feeling when you watch something die. Hungry, right? Oh, no? Maybe you mean the irritation, a kind of angry feeling, what's the word... impatient...? Because the thing is taking too long to die and he wants it to go ahead and die already. Or maybe you mean like when that man was injured? When something is dying but it's not something you wanna eat? Yeah, he has a feeling then too. Um... kind of like anger... you taught him the word once... annoyed? They make so much noise, and he doesn't like loud things. When that man came into the church... he didn't like how loud it was. Why didn't they just kill him, since he was making so much noise...? He doesn't get it. When things annoy him, he kills them, like loud birds and biting bugs. He kinda had an urge to just... reach out and make the man stop screaming, just twist his neck like he does small animals when they make too much noise. But he's smart, he says, he knows the other people might get mad. Yes, he uses the word "might," not "would," as if it was a mere possibility. So it doesn't really come as a surprise when the same attitude applies to the people at his own mercy, the people that get too close to you and end up dragged out to the woods. It's that same knowing dread in your gut, and while it horrifies you as much as it always has, you wouldn't have expected anything else. Maybe some people would feel bad about what they're doing, they would want to go ahead and get it over with, they couldn't take the begging and agony the other party is in... but not only is he totally unbothered, but if he kills him now, he says, the blood will go all over the ground, and that's bad, his lupical like eating the blood in things. So he just snaps the man's bones, that way he won't run away. It's hard to describe the excruciated noises that come out of the other's throat when he does. It's unlike any noise you've ever heard a human make, that kind of pain. The sweat that pours from the other's skin from the agony, the way his mouth hangs open even when he can't scream anymore, the trembling and muffled begging as he moves to the next limb. You tremble and cry. You shiver uncontrollably, you whimper for him to stop. Your eyes widen when he grabs each limb and you close your eyes and sob and grimace and cringe with the snapping sound. Razor, on the other hand, stays just as neutral as before. Face blank and empty, as if performing any other mundane task. He doesn't flinch at the snapping. His expression is unchanging at the sound of screams and the groans as he drags the still-living figure behind him by his shattered ankle all the way back home. When he finally goes to look back at you, he tilts his head at the look on your face. Why do you still look upset? There's no blood yet... isn't it blood that makes you upset? Maybe not? Maybe it's the sound that bothers you? Yeah, you flinch whenever the man groans in pain, so it must be the sounds of the dying things that you don't like, it annoys him too really. Ok, that can be fixed... sound comes from the throat right? Well, he left his claymore a ways away so, it'll just take a second, the guy is thrashing a bit but eventually he holds him still enough to get his teeth latched around his throat and just... bites down. The sound is a squelching, crunching sound, one that you'll never forget, it makes every hair on your body stand on end and your skin crawl. He pulls back with the mass of bleeding flesh and tracheal tissue in his jaws and spits it out on the ground. There, see...? You can see the blood on his teeth reflecting the light as he smiles. He's not making noises anymore, so... why do you still have that look on your face? Is it because the body on the ground is all... spasming and convulsing like that? Well, uh... that'll stop soon, probably. At least it's nice and quiet now. He gets it, really, he doesn't like loud noises either.

[yandere-daydreams]

Can we have a general yandere typing for the TW dorm leaders or your favorite dorm pls?

This is very, very general (it has to be, if I’m going to fit seven different characters into the same post), but I hope it covers what you’re looking for! I’ve been meaning to write a ‘darkest fantasy’ drabble for the dorm-heads but,,, this’ll have to do, for now.

The NRC Dorm Heads as Yanderes.

TW: Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Dehumanization, Implied Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships, Mentions of Non-Consensual Touching, Mentions of Blood, and Implied Violence.

~

Riddle is Domineering.

He can’t change what he is, and even if he could, he wouldn’t see the need to. Riddle loves you, he loves you so, so much, but to him, you’re so reckless, so impulsive, so inept, it makes his underclassmen seem cautious, in comparison. He worries less for your safety than he does for your carelessness. He doesn’t think you’ll impale yourself on a banister or trip and manage to break your neck, and yet, he’s managed to convince himself that, the moment you’re left into your own devices, you’ll twist, distort, manage to take something that’s so precious to him and turn it into something perverse, something that doesn’t deserve to have a caretaker so devoted. If he has to take a few hours out of his busy schedule to make sure you understand why he’s so adamant that you obey him, then so be it. He’d rather have a perfect, prized doll who can’t meet his eyes without trembling than someone he doesn’t even know, someone he can’t even love. Someone who won’t let him love them, even when he’s made it so clear that if he suffocates you, it’s only because you've forgotten that you can only breathe because he lets you.

Leona is Jealous.

It’s such a classic younger-sibling complex, isn’t it? It’s not that he’s possessive, he’d be more than fine with carving you up and handing out the pieces if he knows who he’s sharing with, but he’s had a say in so little, he’s had so much snatched out of his grasp before he knew better than to let it go, he can’t stand the though of losing you like that, too. He needs to monopolize your time, your attention, he needs to monopolize you, because if he doesn’t someone else is going to come along to do it for him, and he knows they won’t treat you half as well as he will. It’s why he’s so quick to pull you away from conversations he didn’t give you permission to be a part of. It’s why he can’t seem to go five minutes without insulting your friends or implying that you could cling to him as much as he clings to you, even when the two of you have been along for hours. It’s why he’s so desperate to bite into your neck and burrow his nails under your skin and leave proof of his existance, if only to satisfy that repressed, buried, primal part of himself that just wants something he can own. And he will own you, by the time he’s done. He tends to be thorough, with the things he’s so determined to see play out.

Azul is Paranoid.

There’s a connotation with this kind of alignment that might be a little misleading, when it comes to Azul. He’s manipulative, too. He’s obsessive and he’s controlling and he’s so many other things, but above all, he’s terrified by the idea that one day, you might decide that he’s just some pathetic, pitiful bottom-feeder and move on to someone’s who’s worthy of you. His mindset seeps its way into his behavior visibly, tangibly, blatantly, whether or not he’s willing to admit it. A dozen locks on your bedroom door, a new contract he’s gone over a hundred times, a thousand kisses and a thousand promises and a thousand hours spent clinging to your waist, his face buried in your chest as he begs you to never make him let go. He feels like you’ll slip away if he doesn’t hold you close, like you’ll find a loophole or a way to leave him and he’ll never be able to get you back. It doesn’t help that he responds so reflexively to any change he didn’t acconut for. He can make all the plans in the world, contrive as many schemes as he’d like to, but all of his preparations won’t stop him from reacting so harshly when you say something he doesn’t want to hear or do something he didn’t see coming. Above all, he needs you to love him. He won’t respond well to any evidence of the contrary.

Kalim is Smothering.

You have to understand, he really, really thinks he’s just being the best boyfriend he can possibly be. Kalim is naive, like that. He loves you, and he doesn’t know better than to show that love off any way he can and every way he can. It kind of sweet, if you look at it like that. How is he supposed to know you wouldn’t enjoy receiving his gifts as much as he enjoys piling them onto you? You never told him how much his endless parties overwhelm you, so why would he ever stop throwing them? You always bite at your lips and look away and try to cover yourself when he gives you something pretty to wear, and Kalim just thinks you’re so beautiful, so wonderful, it’s only natural that he’ll - playfully, of course - pull you into his lap and go on about all the many reasons he loves you, layering on compliments so thickly, it’s only a matter of time before they start to seep into your lungs and force out the air. Remember, he’s blind to anything he doesn’t want to see, so by the time he finally crosses one too many lines and forced you to snap, he’ll be so caught off-guard, so heartbroken, he won’t know what to do besides buckle-down and give you more, force you to take more. He’s a simple man. If his antics were enough to make you snap at him, surely, more gifts, more attention, more love will only make things better.

Vil is Narcissistic.

This one speaks for itself, really. You might manage to worm your filthy little way into his heart, you might find a way to root yourself there and drive him to the point of near-insanity, but no matter how dear you are to him, no matter how much he loves you, you’ll always be second to the man himself, you’ll always be less than, compared to Vil. It shouldn’t be such a problem, he already acts like he should be the pinnacle of all mankind’s aspirations, but it’s taken to a new extreme when it comes to his closest companion. He expects to be doted on, to be worshiped, and when you’re not busy tripping over yourself to tend to his every desire, you should be hanging off his every word, letting him do whatever he’d like to because you’re just so honored he’d take a moment out of his day to look after you. If it takes a love potion or several, he’ll find a way to live with it. That’s the thing about a mentality like Vil’s, an obsession focused inward that just so happens to brush against someone it’s not meant to - he doesn’t really care about the parts of you that don’t lead back to him. Your health, your happiness, it’s all on the table if he has a chance to take hold of what he wants. He’s always been ambitious. You shouldn’t be surprised when he approaches your love with the same cut-throat attitude.

Idia is Possessive.

If it’s any help, he wants to lock himself away from the rest of the world just as much as he wants to isolate you. You’re the one person he can stand to be around, the one voice he’ll never get tired of, the one pair of eyes he knows will never judge him, even if he’d prefer that you call him more affectionate nicknames, as he explains that he’s just trying to keep the two of you content and alone. He’s greedy, when it comes to you, but that’s not his fault. He gets… sensitive, when you start to focus on other people, when you let other men touch you like they have any right to put their hands on something he deserves to keep to himself. It leads him to some habits he’s not proud of, some reactions that don’t exactly encourage you to indulge his more questionable habits, but while Idia still wants to be able to hide in your arms and ramble on to the only person he knows will listening, he stops caring about how much you want to embrace him, eventually. The world’s already so unfair in so many ways, and no one knows that more than Idia. He doesn’t think he’ll mind if you begin to think he’s as much of a disgusting freak as he already knows he is.

Malleus is Apathetic.

He wants to care. Don’t forget that - he really, really wants to care about your feelings, your interests, your happiness, all of it! He tries to care, too. Not a day passes where he doesn’t make an attempt to get you to smile, to coax out a hint of fondness from your scorned little heart, to sort through all the betrayal and the hurt and the pain and find something redeeming, something that proves he’s not making you any more miserable than he has to. He’ll give you what sparse freedoms he can, keeping your leash as slack as he can afford to, but when you take a step too close to an open window or refuse to hold his hand or he just decides it’s been a few minutes too long since you last swallowed your pride and showed him the affection he strives after like a touch-starved puppy, he never hesitates to pull you back to his side and ignore how violently you’re choking as he takes whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. He never feels guilty, either, not for the act itself. He’ll fret over the hatred in your eyes, he’ll loath himself whenever you flinch at the first signs of his touch, but in the back of his mind, he knows he deserves what he rips away from you. He’s doing you a favor. Humans are so fragile, so delicate, so easily tricked, and as a prince, a prodigy, a source of unadulterated power, he’s the only suitable candidate when it comes to keeping you safe, to guarding you as fiercely as dragon guards its hoard. He protects you, and he treats you like royalty while doing it, so he wants something in return. He doesn’t think he’s asking for a lot, considering how much he’s been denied.

You should just count yourself lucky Malleus might feel a little bad, by the time he’s done. At least he won’t leave you as bloody as he could, after he’s finished.

[ktheist]

ghost of a kiss.

muses. duke’s son!yoongi x marquis’ daughter!reader x crown prince!namjoon / professor!yoongi x student!reader x detective!namjoon

genre. historical au. reincarnation au. modern au. 

words. 5.3k

note. nobody come at me for the header pls. or as bretman used to say, like fuck i’m tryin i’ve only been doin this for 2 hours 😭

x

There weren’t that many things Yoongi wouldn’t do if his father so wills it. Perhaps it was the Min blood coursing through his veins that made him so apathetic to human emotions.

You want to laugh.

You also want to cry, scream and throw the closest thing you have which is your fan at Yoongi’s ever emotionless expression. Just like a blank canvas painted with invisible ink, Yoongi never shows his feelings. Never spoke his mind.

Well, not around you at least.

It was as if you were just a pretty little doll for him to play with –no, he doesn’t even pay you any mind. He just sat there, sipping on the cherry blossom tea that the maid poured into his cup and gave one worded answers to the questions you asked after your endless chatter came to, well, an end.

After that, he put up with you a little bit longer when you insisted you’d wanted to escort him out of the garden and to the front of the mansion where his carriage awaited.

“Until we meet again, my lady,” he would bow but you would hold out your hand for him to place a ghost of a kiss on like lovers would.

It was always you who were asking for too much.

Always you who were a slave for his affection.

But instead of doing all of those things you dreamed of doing when you meet him again –and meet him, you do– you end up running past the grandeur doors of the ballroom, down the red carpet splayed hallway and into the gardens where red roses glimmer with dew drops underneath the moon rays.

What a heartbreakingly beautiful set up for a damsel with a broken heart.

“My lady,” it hasn’t even been five minutes when you hear that stone cold voice of Yoongi.

“Why couldn’t you just pretend you didn’t see me running like a scared, defenseless mouse after we met. After all, you’ve always been good at that –pretending like I don’t exist.” You wanted to laugh and laugh, you did. It sounds withered, unlike the full blooms of floral that surrounds you two.

“As your fiance, I have a duty to–”

“Duty.” You spit out the word like it’s poison, “was visiting me every fortnight for tea a duty of yours too?”

The corners of your eyes are red from roughly rubbing the traces of tears that threatens to fall on your cheeks and ruin your makeup.

You take a deep breath before turning to him, pushing down a silent sniffle.

“As you may have heard from your father, Duke Min, you’re relieved from that cumbersome duty,” you hold your chin high.

As you should.

Yoongi Min stares at you a moment longer than he usually would. Is it the hair? Your hair’s grown since he last saw you. 

Or perhaps the bodice that wraps around you and enhances your curves and bosoms. 

‘Perhaps’, you somberly admits, ‘he simply forgot how I looked after four years.’

“As you should have heard from the Marquis,” Yoongi presses, “I refuse to break the engagement.”

“Wha–” the word slips past your lips before you even register it.

“It can’t be undone, his Majesty already approves of the annulment,” you know you’re repeating words your father and brother uttered. Like a hopeful little mouse in the face of a black panther.

“Only with the Majesty’s approval can you request to break the engagement but it’s up to the Min’s if we wish to grant your request –I reject it.” Yoongi stands only a few feet away from you, his eyes appearing darker than black, shadowed by the moonlight.

When he steps forward and out of the shadow, you find yourself forgetting how to breathe. Like a beast in the night, he ambles his way to you elegantly and swiftly.

Before you know it, Yoongi is standing in front of you. And you, a captor beneath those haunting, onyx, splendor. His gloved fingers twirl a strand of your hair around them before he brings the golden locks to his lips.

“I loved you blindly, Sir Min,” you send your gratitude to the gods and goddesses for the stillness in your voice, “I longed for you like a sailor long to sail the seven seas but do you know what’s so wretched about this sort of longing? Only a lucky few manage to love without drowning.”

Your slender fingers curl around his wrist. Even then, you couldn’t close your fist around it –your hand is too small and delicate compared to his. And at times like these, you’re reminded of how woman you are and how man, he is.

“Release me,” the air feels cold against your now damp cheek but your heart is icier, “once and for all. At the very least, I’ll be able to marry a humble Count who’ll receive part of my inheritance once my father dies.”

The scoff that leaves the man’s lips sends shivers down your spine.

“A humble count,” his eyes gleam with mockery, as if he finds your words ironic, “did the Crown Prince of the Isira Dynasty not propose to you? Did you not come back for the sole purpose to tell me you’re abandoning me?”

You suspected the rumors of your getting closer to the Crown Prince, Namjoon, would spread over the continent.

“If you know, then let me go.” You say steely.

It’s the rawness in your tear-stained eyes that steals Yoongi’s breath away. The night breeze that blows past him almost sends him tumbling down like waves crashing against the shore.

“[Name],” he speaks your name for the first time in a long time, the syllables rolling off his tongue like sweet honey, “I’m not a man of many words. I don’t know how to–”

“You didn’t know how to kill either but you got better at it with practice!” Your throat feels as if it’s being grazed by sandpaper.

Your heart, on fire.

It’s the first time you’ve shown a different emotion than that heartwarming smile that looks like you’re meant for spring and blooming flowers. In that blissful moment, you look like one of the crimson roses that bear witness to you and Yoongi’s altercations.

“That’s right, I know what you do,” you nod, gaze burning with acid tears, “all those months spent waiting for you to come back from those expeditions. Monsters weren’t the only thing you slayed, were they?”

“No,” Yoongi breathes out and for some reason, his chest feels like it’s going to cave in and crush his heart.

The sensation is alien to him. Hell, he didn’t know he had a heart to begin with. It was just an organ that kept his blood pumping –he’d gladly tore it out and gave it to his dearest fiancée if she so much asked for it.

But now – now – she’s saying she wants no part of it. 

The realization comes to him like poisonous smoke. Spreading around the hollowed part of his chest and seeps into that beating organ of his. Before he knows it, you’re already slipping out of his grasp.

“I’ll break off the engagement,” he finally says, his brain not registering the words that left his mouth, “for a kiss.”

But his heart knows what he wants.

You look at him like he’s crazy, eyes going round and glossed lips parting in a silent gasp. But when he makes no attempt to correct his words, realization gradually settles in.

“Make it quick.”

Long lashes flutter shut, lips pressed in a straight, unwilling line. The hand that clasps around his wrist falls to your side. Your shoulders are tense. You look like you’d rather be with those chimeras Jeongguk’s breeding than here. 

Yoongi takes another step toward you. 

Your eyebrows knit together when his gloved knuckles caress your cheekbone. The sharp inhale of breath you take as you brace herself doesn’t go past him. A rose, even in the face of the hands that threatens to pluck it, remains fierce and grounded.

The wait feels endless. As if time passes agonizingly slow yet the only indication that time hasn’t halted altogether is the way your heart keeps palpitating inside your chest as though it’s about to explode any second.

Then you feel them –a pair of softest, ghostly, lips on your forehead. As opposed to the hand kisses he left you, this one lingers with a sort of yearning. And even then, it feels short-lived.

As though you will never have enough of Yoongi Min.

“My lady, you look disappointed, if you wanted me to kiss you elsewhere, you should’ve said so.” There’s a mirth in his tone. And for a moment, you feel warm, like the warmth of the sun hugging you.

“What if I did?”

You want to ask but you decide against it. Thrusting your chin up like the noblest of women would, you remind him of the deal, “I’ll send someone to retrieve the annulment papers in a week’s time. I assume it will bear your signature, sir.”

With that, you walk past him, your laced hand brushing against his gloved one but even on the verge of goodbyes, Yoongi Min doesn’t let you walk out of it that easily. His pinky finger hooks around yours like a rusted, weak chain. Unsure whether to keep holding on or letting go.

Yet your feet stop dead in their tracks. Your heart races. Deep down, you know you want him to hold onto you like you held onto him for ten, pitiful years.

“Have a good evening, my lady,” is all he says, his hand falling away and he begins strutting to the opposite direction you’re heading even though there’s nothing in that direction besides a maze made of rose beds.

But you don’t plan to ponder too much on it. Namjoon, the Crown Prince, is waiting for you back in Isira where you’ll build a new home. A new life. And with a loving husband.

Or so you thought. 

x

That was a lifetime ago. To say you opened your eyes to a twenty-one year old body in a world plagued by motor engine propelled and electronic devices –would be a lie. 

This body is yours.

This life is yours.

You remember your first step, first successful ride on the bike after your father took off the supporting wheels, your first fall and the rest of your firsts, seconds, thirds and so on. And as such, you remember your first time meeting Min Yoongi.

At the age of twenty-one and him, twenty-six, his emotions are hard to pinpoint.

He isn’t much different in this lifetime.

His hair is a shade of rich brown that could easily pass as black if he’s not walking underneath the sunlight. He’s taller than the twenty-two year old boy you last saw before your carriage crashed into the ditch –that was the last thing you remembered from your last life. 

No, you didn’t die. But the rest of your life past that point was blurry.

And here he comes, all in his dark colored vest over a white undershirt and black trousers. Professor Min Yoongi is nothing short of perfection.

“[Name], do you have a minute?” He approaches you like a panther; soundless and undetectable.

Before you know it, he’s five feet away from you and if you were to make a quick u-turn, it would be too obvious.

“I’m afraid not professor, I’m sorry, should I email you at a later time so we can discuss matters of my assistantship?” You put on your best smile and he lifts a dubious brow that screams that he sees right through your lie. 

Yet he doesn’t press on.

Instead, he offers another alternative –though completely disregarding the last bit about the email, “right, then meet me after class.”

“I-I’m afraid I can’t do that either professor, I have to rush to Cyber, right after–!” You almost choke on your words.

“I’ll talk to Professor Park about that,” he says simply and taps you on your shoulder like any good-natured professor would with his top-performing student.

It just so happens that you’re extremely good at the class he teaches, which, ironically, is Neurocriminology.

x

“Professor Min?” You knock on the intimidating wooden door and hear a curt ‘come in’ from the other side before pushing the door open.

Behind his desk, Yoongi looks up at you through his long lashes and straight into the windows of your soul.

Even in your second life, his piercing stare affects you.

But you tell yourself that it’s because he’s just devilishly handsome and you’re humbly a woman. 

That, and he and Professor Park Jimin are the youngest professors in the department.

“Those assignments over there need sorting.” Yoongi points to the pile of papers in a box perched on the coffee table as though waiting for you to arrive.

“Yes, professor,” you breathe through your mouth and swallow back the words of accusation that threaten to fall past your lips.

You did volunteer to be a student assistant but you never thought, in a million years, that the man who resembled your fiancé in the past… Well, on paper at least. You never thought he would pick you as his supervisee.

The room is silent save for the rustling sound of papers fluttering as you shift through each assignment and place them alphabetical orders of the name. Every once in a while, you can’t help but steal glances at the man seated behind the desk. With his hair slicked back and the cuffs of his wrist rolled up to his elbow, he looks like every girl’s modern day prince charming.

“Why are you so keen on running away from me?” His husked tone cuts through the silence.

“Pardon, professor?” You blink, not catching the meaning of his words until a moment later.

Your cheeks heat up under his piercing gaze, the recollection of the occasions you fast-walked to lose him in the hallways burning in the back of your mind.

“I-it seems I always have places to be… classes to attend, I’ll make sure to meet you every morning to confirm my tasks, professor,” you can’t just confess that he has a face and name of the man you once loved in your past life.

If you so much spoke of your remembering you’d be sent to the asylum.

A ghost of a smile tugs on the corners of his lips but it was gone as soon as it came. You’re not sure if you’re just seeing things.

“Very well, send me the location of your apartment so I can pick you up tomorrow,” he doesn’t look up from the screen of his Mac when he says that.

“P-professor?” You blink, disbelief coloring your complexion.

“You said you’d meet me every morning, yes? I always have my breakfast at 7:30 AM at The Curve, we can discuss matters of your tasks over breakfast.” He goes on like it’s just another day of him assigning you a task to complete.

x

The next morning, you sit with your back straight, staring at the pancakes Yoongi ordered for you. The sweater he wears over his vest makes him seem more relaxed than his usual vest and tie look. His long lashes almost brush the top of his cheek as he casts his gaze down at the leaf shaped latte he’s drinking.

“Professor, I double checked with the administration office and they gave me a list of things I have to do to complete my assistantship. From the tasks you’d given me, I checked off at least three of the requirements,” you take out an azure blue notebook where you flip to a page that has a piece of paper and slides it across the table.

“You came prepared,” he muses, an amused smile playing on his lips and your little heart does its little flips.

“I take it you’re writing a paper on neuroscience and human behavior –if there’s anything, I can help you with, please let me know,” you return his smile with a schooled one –the kind that you use when you’re dealing with strangers.

“Sure,” the professor nods, “I could use some help researching neurodivergence.”

The conversation flows smoothly. The worries you harbored for the whole of your university life now dissipated. You were at your most comfortable when it comes to academia. Your passion lies in your interest in criminology and the one man who you could engage in an intellectual conversation is none other than the man whom you tried so hard to avoid.

At some point, you think your worries, silly. Just because they share the same face and name, doesn’t mean they share the same memory. For all you knew, you could be the one in a million who remembers your past life.

That is, until Yoongi asks, “were you happy?”

He uses the word ‘were’ to refer to the past. It takes you a moment to register that he didn’t mean your childhood nor adolescent years.

And when you finally put two and two together, you can almost hear your heart drop. You thought you’d be sweating bullets and heaving for air from the tangible pressure this conversation brings.

But before you could say anything, Yoongi speaks again, “I won’t push for an answer, I know where that led me before.”

He casts his gaze down, long, nimble fingers picking up the cup of latte and making the regular sized cup seem miniature in his hand.

x

It’s a few days later, as you accompany him to another university to meet with a fellow specialist, that you finally say, “you never pushed me.”

Stirring the cup of black coffee, sitting at one of the round, two-persons tables in the cafe of the Sociology Department, you go on, “in fact, you never asked for anything at all. I was always the one asking for too much, giving just as much.”

‘I loved you too intensely and I burned too bright.’ These are the words you never dare say.

Loved.

Because you don’t love Min Yoongi anymore.

Perhaps, that’s why you’re unusually calm.

“I can’t remember everything –only bits and pieces. That night,” you swallow –you don’t need to steal a glance at him to know he’s thinking of the same night; the night you said your goodbyes, “after the carriage crashed, I remembered seeing shadows clash against one another. Namjoon’s men went against the assassins who came for me because I was the rumored Crown Prince’s soon-to-be fiancée. I had to go into hiding after he was demoted to a mere prince because of his brothers’ schemes… at some point, I remember starving because we had nothing to eat.”

A new identity was all Namjoon could offer for his beloved. He spoke of claiming back the throne that was rightfully his yet his supporters scattered all over the continents after the siege. Their spirit waned overtime. He came for you after the shadows saved you but you both lived in poverty until one shriveled up like a dead flower and the other went mad for the crown that was once his.

The way his fists clench with remorseful anger doesn’t go past you, it’s almost as though you can hear him blaming himself for your choices.

You smile wistfully, “but yes, I remember being happy,” the smile tugs into a straight line as you face him with conviction, “would I give everything up for that sliver of happiness again? No,” you shake your head, “now I just want money.”

Yoongi laughs. Like truly laughs out loud with his shoulderline shaking and hand on his stomach. The sound lacks the menace that you remembered him to wear around him like a cloak.

All of a sudden, the air seems to change. The tension you once felt, now dissipated into thin air. A familiar warmth creeps up your neck but you mask it with indifference.

You can’t afford to fall for him all over again.

Not when you’ve had a lifetime to mull over and decide these feelings would die with you –get buried with you.

“What happened after your sister ruined the dukedom?” It’s when you both got to this point of the conversation that you felt your heart writhe inside your chest.

As if physically hurting for the fate that befell Yoongi –at this point, it was just an assumption, but you were sure that–

“Aera tracked us one by one until she killed every single Min,” he says simply, as if talking about a cherished sister who up and left home with the family’s savings a few hundred years ago, “she was the best of us. She knew people like us couldn’t be left alone to live a quiet life.”

In the lulled silence, you notice the festering remorse that dances in his eyes.

He clasps his palm over his mouth as he stares out of the window, “of course, things are different now. We’re not allowed to kill.”

At that, you almost spat out the coffee you’re downing. You couldn’t believe your ears.

“It was illegal to kill then, you and your family did it anyway because you were just so– so… messed up!” You explode partly, voice lowered as you lean over the table, cautious of anyone nearby who might hear you.

“Aren’t you glad neurocriminology gives justification to murderers, well, murdering nowadays?” He smirks, one corner of his lip tugging upwards.

You find yourself breathing in sharply as your heart skips a beat at the sight of Min Yoongi’s dark humor.

The Yoongi in your past life would never be able to even understand a joke –you were sure.

But now it’s you who doesn’t appreciate the humor.

“Is that why you became a professor?” It’s apparent in the way your brows knit together.

“Rather, paired with my previous… knowledge, it’s an easier way to get a PhD and a stable earning,” the shrug makes him appear boyish –younger than he is.

For some reason, he was several years older than you in this lifetime compared to the last.

“Apparently mine deems that I marry rich,” you remark playfully.

“Then, shall we get married? I missed my chance in my previous lifetime and I’m kind of well off in this lifetime,” it’s the easy suggestion of marriage that makes you almost choke on the pancake you just directed into your mouth.

“Professor, there’s just something you don’t joke about,” you say after gaining a semblance of your composure yet your heartbeat drums in your ears and your cheeks feel as though they’re on fire.

Why are you so happy to hear that Min Yoongi, your former fiancé and beloved, entertained the idea of marriage with you even in this lifetime?

x

“Your sisters... do they remember?” Yoongi asks one fine evening as you’re surfing the internet to research the needed materials he tasked you with.

“How did you know I have sisters?” You blink, surprised.

Yoongi had to mask the involuntary smile that tugs on the corners of his lips when he sees how lovely and adorable of a face you’re making.

“You mentioned them before,” he states, “even if you didn’t, I’d suspect as much since I was born with the same siblings from the previous lifetime –for now, it’s me, Aera and Hoseok, who knows where my dad hid the rest of his children and mistresses.”

“They don’t remember, I tried asking when I first started remembering –was it at the age of eight? They looked at me like a devil just possessed their little sister,” you sigh softly, “it’s better this way. Life isn’t all that easy for them either in the past.”

The cherry blossom tree standing tall and proud one the edge of the field is positioned so that anyone who stood in front of his window would get a full view of raining, pink petals.

“Why do you think we remember?” You ask, staring at the petal that fluttered into the room and found itself atop Yoongi’s deep brown lock.

“I’d say fate’s giving us a second chance but you’d laugh at me,” he plainly says, flipping a page of the journal he’s reading.

And laugh at him, you do, “professor, I didn’t take you for a hopeless romantic!”

x

“We both changed, you and I,” you told him over dinner at le Saumon de Bord du Lac.

The piano playing in the background and the dim lighting gives off an atmosphere of a romantic evening. The waiter even thought you were a couple and offered a couple’s discount.

Yoongi being Yoongi, accepted it right away and called you his ‘darling’. Your cheeks burn up for a good fifteen minutes until the wine comes and you finish the whole glass in a few gulps.

“No shit, Sherlock,” he agrees wholeheartedly without even looking up from the menu, “for one, I’m not some apathetic maniac who goes around wielding spears.”

“No, you’re my professor and I’m your student, we should never be caught dead having dinner together,” you shoot him a rebellious grin to which he nods.

“Touche,” he acknowledges.

x

A week later, you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a blonde haired, hazel eyed man approaching you and Yoongi. You’d stepped behind Yoongi’s broad shoulders, the man almost didn’t notice you at all.

He’s supposed to give a talk on neurocriminology –a guest of Yoongi’s.

“Are you okay?” He asks after you’re back in his office, he pulls you away from the spotlight when he notices your forced mechanical smile and fingers tugging at your sleeves.

“I know, right? Why did I get so weird like that?” You laugh to yourself, as though engulfed in your own world.

It doesn’t take a genius to – or perhaps, Min Yoongi was that, so that’s why he successfully – put two and two together and figured out that his esteemed guest is the reincarnation of Namjoon.

The blond didn’t seem to recognize you though.

But that didn’t stop him from taking an interest in you.

“[Name]... that student of yours, is she single?” Namjoon asked when they were out for dinner with the other professors but before Yoongi could even respond, the blond was already laughing it off, “nevermind, forget what I said. You wouldn’t happen to know anyway.”

“Don’t go around flirting with my students, they need to focus on getting a degree first before anything else,” Yoongi jokingly warned.

Something in his stomach twists and turns, as if a snake was slithering around his intestines, spreading its venom all over him.

But that did nothing to stop you and Namjoon from exchanging numbers and going out to brunches and dinners like he did with you. You keep on tugging on her sleeve and pushing your hair to the back of her ear when you spoke to Namjoon at the next talk he was invited to.

Much to Yoongi’s surprise, despite your obvious discomfort, you’re the one who suggested inviting Namjoonfor the new semester and handled all the matters pertaining to the talk.

x

“I don’t want to push you because if I do, you’d drift farther away from me and if I pull, you’ll recoil and take ten steps back –there’s no right way,” Min Yoongi has you trapped between the door and his body one afternoon. Particularly, after he saw the name Joonie flash across your screen as your phone vibrates.

You excused yourself to answer the call but just as your hand touched the door handle, his hand rested on top of yours, stopping you from walking out of his office.

“Wh-what are you saying, professor?” You stammer, the now still phone held in front of your chest.

He thinks he sees the tip of your ear turn red but it could be because of the fading winter air.

It was always uncomfortable to watch you and Namjoon interact but Yoongi attributed it to the fact that one remembered the times they spent together in their past life and the other having absolutely no idea yet still falling for your charms either way.

He twirls a strand of your hair around his index finger before he kisses it, “he may have your heart but I’ve loved you first –I’ve always loved you first.”

“P-professor-!” You exclaim, heels turning and so does your body.

No doubt, your sole purpose of turning around to face him is to caution him of his bold declaration –you were like an open book that Yoongi could just pick up and flip the pages to. You’d always been readable, even back then. Perhaps, that was why it felt like a hand clawed through his chest and wraps its talons around his heart each time you put up walls and turn away his subtle advances.

Because he knows winter has long settled in the hollowed part of your chest.

But because of how he was leaning down to kiss your hair, you end up face to face with only inches apart. There’s no mistaking the blush that spreads across your face, washing away the initial surprise of finding yourself so close to him.

“Call me Yoongi,” he implores with that deep, husky voice of his.

It’s the way he looks at you. Like he’s frightened beyond belief that you’d do exactly what he thought you would; take ten steps back –that makes your heart thump unceremoniously in your chest.

“Y-yoongi… we shouldn’t…” you murmur weakly, eyes tracing his soft lips before snapping up to meet his gaze.

“May I kiss you?” He knows he should let you go to answer the call –what you do and who you see in this lifetime is none of his business.

And yet, he can’t bear the thought of you walking away from him in this lifetime. Not when there’s the second chance he made a pact with the devil for.

Fate and the devil, what difference are there if they meant to serve one purpose?

You nod.

And all of a sudden, he’s back where it all ended. In that garden where roses bore witness to their tragic love affair.

He leans in and presses his lips on your forehead ever so gently –it feels as though if he puts any more pressure, you’d break like you’re made of glass.

“Kiss me for real –if you kiss me on the forehead, it feels like you’re saying goodbye,” your eyes flutter open and your brows join together in protest, he feels you tug on his shirt impatiently.

The softest of smiles graces Yoongi’s lips and you think your heart is going to explode into millions of pieces. Is it not enough that he’s the reason you almost forgot to breathe?

“Wasn’t it you who was itching to run away from me?” He teases, pinching your cheek and just like his hand kisses –you still feel them ghost over the back of your hand every once in a while– his touches are feather light.

“Only because you were an emotionally constipated idiot.” You argue back, lips puckered in protest.

“Then, if I may… my lady…” he trails off, index finger curled under her chin, tilting you face up.

“You may,” you giggle against his lips, arms tracing up the planes of his abs to his chest and find home around his neck as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

x

(“I was only putting up with Namjoon because he’s the head of the criminology department in Incheon –I was thinking of applying for a job there after graduating.” You confess some time later once you’re at le Saumon de Bord du Lac.

“Huh,” Dion blinks, not expecting that.

“Did you think I was going to date him in this lifetime?” You giggle as if you already know the answer, “true, he’s still as handsome as ever, but we did go broke and… I never truly loved him.”

You cast her gaze down, cheeks burning with warmth, shyness overcoming you all of a sudden. If he could, Yoongi would gather her in his arms and embrace her like he’ll never let go.

But he settles with a reach of his hand on top of yours on the table, thumb caressing the spot just below the knuckle of your fourth finger.

“In this lifetime… definitely.”)

x

note. this was shared on a discord server and posted on wattpad under a different pseudonym!