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madridfangirl · 2 months

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A Weekend in Ibiza - Part 2

(Jude Bellingham blurb)

(Part 1, Part 3, Part 4)

2.6k words. Jude*female reader. Suggestive language.

A/n - When we don't get Jude holiday content, we make shit up

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The cold shower calmed your nerves and cleared your head. The fog lifted from the brain, replaced with fury.

That fucker, that assholic fucker, really thought he could play you like this? Just waltz into your peaceful space & bend you to his will?

What a sad, little life he lived if that’s the kind of people he was surrounded with.

Oh, you were gonna show him his place. Real good.

What you did next shocked you. But propriety had gone out of the window the moment he turned this into a battle of wits, dragging you in as an unwilling participant.

Jude was done with Round 2 & was lounging on the deck when he heard his spare phone buzz. He lazily felt around the surface for his waist bag, too blissed out to move. The naked woman lying half on top of him, feeding him grapes was a factor too.

What he saw made him rub his eyes & sit upright. The woman whined at the interruption, which he barely registered.

‘Naa I am busy. Going snorkelling with this one.’

Attached was the back image of a man. A big, well built, shirtless, heavily muscular, glossy skinned, wet man. A surfer’s body.

‘And who is he?’

‘Met him on the beach just now. Said he wanted to show me a few things. Am gonna let him.’

That was a sucker punch to the gut that he didn’t see coming.

‘You are bluffing.’

‘Yeah? Want me to send you a pic after? Don’t think we’ll find a bed but a remote island maybe?’

He called you. Disconnected in the first ring. He called again. Same result.

‘Don’t do this. It’s not safe.’

‘I am a big girl, I can handle myself.’

‘What happened to the no casual sex policy?’

‘A girl can change her mind. CERTAINLY for a guy like that.’

‘Rubbish - he looks OLD.’

‘Word you are looking for is experienced. A MAN, not some little boy fresh out of his teens.’

‘Look, I’ll stop if you stop.’

‘Never asked you to stop. Never asked you for ANYTHING. Infact, I explicitly told you to go with the woman throwing herself at you.’

‘HE WONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH YOU.’

‘I’ll find out soon, won’t I? Hope he likes my new swimsuit.’

Jude resisted the urge to throw his phone in the water. The woman looked at him curiously as he paced around the deck.

Confrontation wasn’t helping his case, so he changed tact.

‘Listen, we got off on a non-ideal note. I can see that. But we can talk this through. I’ll come back right now, yeah? Just give me like 15 mins.’

‘1) The world does not revolve around you 2) Actions have consequences 3) Chris is waiting & I am going to him now. Will be MIA for a few hours. Bye.’

Jude called again. You didn’t pick up. He left one final, desperate message.

‘Please don’t do this. I am sorry. You can get back at me in other ways. Please.’

You smiled victoriously as you looked at his plea. Two please and a sorry in one sentence. Ergo, mission accomplished. Who knew a picture of Chris Hemsworth in your gallery would come in so handy one day. Oh, the benefits of thirsting.

Putting your phone on airplane mode (to let him stew further), you got under the covers, still in your bathrobe, and drifted off to a peaceful afternoon nap.

Complete contradiction to his state.

Jude was struggling to wrap his head around what just happened. And why it was bothering him so much. He stripped to his briefs and jumped in the cool, crystal blue water. To erase the images plaguing his mind. Of you in your swimsuit. Of you and that horny geriatric fucker.

At one point he even looked around the water, trying to look for the snorkelling spots. Then cursed himself for being reduced to that.

The current was brisk, numbing him enough to think straight. All wasn’t lost. Not yet. He just needed to come up with a better move. A different move. Coz you were different, it had been well established. The rebuttal did bruise his ego, he admitted to himself, but he was still sure he wasn’t wrong in sensing your attraction. It just needed the right nudge to bring you to him.

He emerged from the water, enthused again, and the woman rushed to him, offering to help him de stress & unwind from whatever was bothering him. Jude was never gonna pass up on a quick head in the loo. As he thrusted into her mouth, he found himself wishing it to be you.

If only you had been that easy. But then, the chase won’t be as fun, the anticipation not as deep. Plus he was certain your affections couldn’t be gained from fame, money or expensive gifts. You’d probably throw them in his face if he attempted that.

He wondered if things would be different if you knew who he was. That there was a different side to him too. An idea struck him then, right at the peak of his orgasm.

You woke up after 3 long blissful hours, stretching your limbs, still burrowed under the covers, and put your phone off airplane mode.

One message from him, from an hour ago.

‘Atleast tell me you are back safely.’

The change in tone did not go unnoticed and you figured this merited a response.

‘Just got done. Exhausted. Gonna sleep it off now.’

Letting the innuendo hang in the air, you ordered your evening cappuccino & croissant, enjoying them in your private balcony overlooking the waters. And played your favourite music, as you watched the evening sun cast patterns in the sky. Splurging for this room was turning out to be a great decision after all.

Curiosity got the better of you then, and you succumbed to googling him, to know more about this ridiculous/ridiculously handsome creature.

When you looked, you prayed you hadn’t. The guy wasn’t just atrociously hot, but he was many other things. Damn good at his day job (excellence at work was your primary turn-on). Well spoken & articulate (wtf happened to him today then?). Wholesome with his family (your number 2 turn-on). Unbelievably amazing with kids (you could jump from the balcony right now with the number of boxes he was ticking). And just generally affable & affectionate to everyone around.

You scrolled & scrolled through countless reels, & wondered which was the real him. The dickhead he was this morning or this angelic creature loved by all & sundry? Everyone seemed to swear by him. Did you catch him on a bad day then? Or was this a carefully crafted public persona to fool the world?

You kept going back to that one video with kids, which was melting your insides.

That, and another one with him being abrasive on the pitch, picking up fights. Some would have called it cocky, and it was, but it was also inexplicably hot? Knee-wobbling hot? It was the same cockiness he had this morning but that had put you off. This video, though, was making your head spin. Giving him a power you never wished for him to have over you. And his body, oh god that body, plus the way he carried that attitude.

You quickly threw the phone away, hoping you weren’t in too deep already. Consciously reminding yourself what an entitled prick he had been and how furious it had made you.

Needing an immediate distraction, you called home & listened to your 4 year old nephew babble for a good 30 mins. And your mom telling you all the news from back home for another 30 mins.

Dinner was the next distraction. You took your time in picking a delicacy, settled on paella, a glass of wine and put on a comfort movie on Netflix as you enjoyed your dinner in bed. For some reason, you were avoiding going outside.

It was 10 pm, the sun had finally set making it feel like night time. No more messages from him since the last one to check on you. Which was a good thing. Which is what you wanted. Right?

Yes, of course. Finally you were rid of him. He must be out, doing something, or someone. Far far away from you.

A quick look at his Insta won’t hurt, would it? It would just confirm his whereabouts, so you can finally be at peace, away from him.

One new post. From 2 hours ago. Captioned ‘Making memories’. A bunch of pics from his day - sunbathing at the yacht, lunch with friends, frolicking in the water & sun-set. Carefully avoiding any hint of the women she knew were a part of his entourage. Just the guy friends made it to post, making you roll your eyes loudly.

When you reached the last pic though, you did a double take. For the second time today, the glass nearly dropped from your hands.

The pic had a glass of wine, and a tissue paper next to it. You could tell it was the same tissue they had used to exchange notes - it was in a blurred background, difficult to spot for others but you could make out your handwriting. And his.

Tagged to it was a song - Can’t we start over again.

You questioned your grip on reality as you read the lyrics of the song.

I know I’ve caused you pain.

Took you for granted.

I’ve been such a fool.

Can’t we start over again?

What the holy fuck was this? What in the name of god was he playing at?

Half-mad, half dazed, you quickly dialled his number. It rang & rang for eternity, he picked up on the last ring.

‘Missed me?’

It just hit you that you were hearing his voice for the first time. It was deeper & huskier than you had imagined. But you quickly regained control of the situation.

‘Are you mad? Are you totally completely mad?’

‘Saw the post, huh?’

‘Damn right I did. Seriously, what were you thinking? What if your horde of fans put two & two together? What if people start assembling here to inquire? God, what if people find that waiter? Jude, what did you do?’

You started to hyperventilate, pacing around the room.

‘Ok. Take a deep breath & listen to me, yeah? No one knows we are talking, not even my friends. The waiter I tipped handsomely to forget about what happened. The note is blurred, no one can make out what’s written other than you & me. All others will see is just a glass of wine on a holiday. And a reminiscing song which can be for anyone. Or maybe they’ll think I am drunk. There is zero way to trace it back to you. Heck, even I don’t know your name yet. So relax. I won’t compromise your privacy when you made it clear how important that was to you.’

His soothing voice, coupled with unassailable logic, calmed you instantly. You could almost laugh at how you had overreacted. Almost. You weren’t gonna tell him that.

‘Are you with me?’

‘Umm yeah, guess you are right.’

You could hear music blaring in the background. He must be out partying at some club when you rudely interrupted him. You were about to ask him to go back to what he was doing before he chimed in.

‘So, did you have fun today?’

You rolled your eyes at his roundabout attempt to ask what he really wanted to ask. Well, two can play this game.

‘Oh yeah. Great day, super relaxing, after a long time.’

‘Ended too quickly, no?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Well, if you were with me, no way we would be done in just 3 hours. No way you would be alone tonight, checking out another man online.’

He had just shown you how you were an amateur in the game he was a pro in. Honestly, you hadn’t even anticipated this line of thought. But clearly he had. In the same way he knew you would check him out online. Damn him, to the moon & back.

‘Told you he looked geriatric. Did he even…?’

‘Shut up. Shut the fuck up. Not another word on this.’

Your breath was laboured by now. What gave you solace was that his was ragged at the other end too. He wasn’t unaffected either. Both were silent for a bit. He broke it eventually.

‘I meant what I said in the post. Shouldn’t have done what I did. Not to you. Wasn’t really thinking straight.’

‘Not to ANYONE.’

He had the good sense to stay quiet and not point out that it worked with others.

‘Yes. Can we get past it? I feel like I have been rejected enough for one day.’

You couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling, & he caught the shift in your mood.

‘Maybe.’

Now that was a window he didn’t think he was gonna get. And was extremely pleased with himself for getting here.

‘I’ll take that. Now, you know damn well I want you. And I know you are thinking about me too. Don’t start denying it, that wasn’t a question. Why are you fighting this, baby?’

Again he was cutting straight to the chase. This time though, it didn’t annoy you. It made you nervous, as you twisted & turned in your bed.

‘I told you why.’

You said softly, surprised at the tone of your voice.

‘Let me come over there & change your mind.’

‘I..I don’t know, Jude.’

He gripped a nearby pole harshly at the way his name sounded in your voice.

‘Tell me, do I make you nervous?’

The accent was thicker now, making him even sexier. Making you bury your head in the pillow.

‘The situation makes me nervous.’

‘But me too?’

A pregnant pause. Then, a faint whisper.

‘Yes.’

‘I won’t do anything you aren’t ready for - trust me. Heck, knowing you, you’d probably kick me out naked if I try anything like that.’

You sighed into the pillow, and had no idea what these sounds were doing to him.

‘Aren’t you curious? Haven’t you pictured us together in bed, naked & wrapped around each other? Coz that’s all I have been doing since morning.’

‘Jude….please..’

‘Think of it as an adventure, yeah? A weekend in Ibiza that both of us would remember. We are wasting precious time, baby girl. Please, just please let me come to you right now & show you a good time.’

He had laid all his cards on the table, and waited for your response. Like it was judgement day.

You breathed heavily into the pillow, as you arrived at your decision.

‘Not tonight.’

‘WHAT?’

‘Not tonight.’

You could hear him breathe raggedly at the other end.

‘So, tomorrow then?’

‘I…don’t know, not yet.’

‘You are seriously gonna leave me hanging like this?’

‘I am sure you can find ways to distract & humour yourself in the meantime.’

More heavy breathing from him.

‘Are you a professional torturer of some kind? If not, you are in the wrong line.’

‘Thanks for the suggestion, I will think about it. Now, go back to your party.’

‘HANG ON. Are you for real?’

‘Very much. Now, be a good boy & let me think, yes? Bye, Jude.’

You blew a kiss into the phone & disconnected it, leaving him squirming & stunned at the other end.

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Hoping and praying this delivered the tension & takedown you all so vociferously wanted :))

There will be a Part 3 and I swear it will have smut 😂

Feel free to drop in your asks / suggestions for the next chapter - I moulded this chapter on the overwhelming sentiment in the asks :)

#jude bellingham #bellingham #jude #real madrid #jb5 #jb #jude fanfic #bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine #Jude bellingham blurb

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yutaholic · 10 months

Text

smells like teen spirit (M)

PAIRING: Jeno (NCT) + reader (female)

SUMMARY: Jeno keeps getting on your last nerve, but you still end up in his arms with your tongue down his throat.

WARNINGS: strong language; some drug use; explicit sexual content

NOTES: 8.6k words; this is part two of a rose and her thorns, but can be read as a standalone one-shot

Chicago, 1991

A tale as old as time. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll.

That was our life that summer. Some of us in different doses than the others.

You sat on the bed with your legs bent, resting the notebook against your thighs as you scribbled out another page of the band’s escapades.

Though there was a connection with Mark, we agreed to keep things simple for the rest of the summer. Nothing could be allowed to interfere with the band. God forbid we earned a reputation like Fleetwood Mac’s.

Unfortunately, this agreement caused some awkwardness and I handled that the way I always did - with distance. If Mark couldn’t help but complicate things, then I would do him a favor and give both of us the space we needed.

It felt like shit, but I was used to being the villain.

Turning the page, you kept writing in the eerie quiet of the van. Haechan was bouncing his leg up-and-down at a mile a minute, thoroughly annoyed by Jeno’s delay. Mark was dozing in his seat, trying not to fantasize about you and the fucking heaven between your thighs, but he couldn’t help but watch you jotting down your feelings, your grievances, your hopes and your dreams.

He prayed that he was part of the latter.

The silence broke when the van door opened loudly, followed by a disheveled Jeno stumbling inside. “Goddamn, I am getting so much pussy on this trip,” he huffed, running a hand through his overgrown and severely damaged blond hair.

“Jeno, I swear to god,” you barked, scratching out the compliment you had given him at the top of the page. “If you give me an STD this summer, I will set your drums on fire.”

“You would destroy my child?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Jeno grumbled something under his breath about how you always rained on his parade of pussy and shut the doors. “Let’s get on the road,” he said irritably, shooing Haechan out of the driver’s seat and jerking the van in gear.

“We’ve been waiting for you, dumbass,” Haechan sniped. He’d been getting so annoyed and impatient he threatened to leave the bastard drummer behind and never look back. That bitch can walk, he’d declared moments before.

Mark stayed quiet in the passenger seat, sluggish with sleep. He looked to you again, watching you write in your journal and wondering what you were saying about him.

About all of them.

Jeno drove fast, but not a soul complained. The gig in Chicago was the most highly-anticipated of the trip.

The van hurtled down the highway, not stopping for several hours until you begged for a bathroom. After a quick gas station run, you put some fresh snacks into the cabinet and wrangled your hair into a bun on your head.

Jeno came in with a bag in hand and said, “I bought more condoms.”

“Good for you,” you deadpanned, wrinkling your nose.

“Although I heard Mark didn’t have to wear one,” Jeno added, tsking his tongue. “One of the few perks of being innocent and pure, I guess.”

Your voice was razor sharp. “Careful, Jeno.”

Both pleased and annoyed by your tone, Jeno asked roughly, “Did you at least remember to get your birth control?”

You wanted to shoot daggers into his face with your eyes, but refusing to afford him any looks was better. “Yeah. I got my Depo shot two days before we left.”

“How long does it last?”

“Three months.”

Jeno smiled wryly. “Well, isn’t that convenient.”

“That’s the whole point,” you mumbled. He was trying to get a reaction out of you, prodding at your buttons, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

There was a pause. “I’m ready when you are,” Jeno flirted, wiggling his brows at you.

“Who said I even wanna screw you?”

“You did. Many, many times.”

True, but no longer relevant. All things considered. You returned to your notebook and said, “That was before you became a penis petri dish of death and disease.”

“Ouch.”

My relationship with Jeno could best be described as rivalry. He never gave an inch and neither did I. It was my job to keep him humble.

And damn, what a full-time thankless job that was.

Jeno had been going out of his way to rile you up after your night with Mark. He couldn’t stand seeing you sulky. Mark’s pouting was beyond remedy, but yours could be managed with well-placed jabs.

He had you down to a science. Lighting a fire under your ass was all Jeno knew how to do. The more he prodded at you, the more flames escaped. And when you were angry, you couldn’t be sad.

Because there was nothing Jeno hated more than seeing you cry.

“Can you try to stay on beat this time?” Jeno chided, spinning a drumstick nimbly between his fingers.

Having been testing the microphone, you whipped around and snapped, “Fuck you, Jeno.”

An argument swiftly ensued, petty and heated. No surprises there. Mark and Haechan stood with their guitars and watched the back and forth with no end in sight, even as people poured into the club.

“Those two are going to kill each other,” Mark said under his breath.

Haechan scoffed. “Or make a ton of babies.”

Mark almost choked on the lump that shot into his throat.

You stomped over to Haechan, pointed at Jeno and said, “I can’t deal with this douche canoe anymore!”

To which Jeno shot back, “Just shut up and sing, ice crotch!”

Your eyes went wide with rage and you spun in Jeno’s direction, ready and willing to claw out his eyes. Haechan grabbed you by the arm and steered you back over to the microphone, officially sapped of all patience.

“In ten seconds, me and Mark are going to start playing,” he said hurriedly. “And both of you are going to look like losers if you’re not ready.”

You huffed a swear or two under your breath and gripped the microphone as Mark and Haechan got into position. Then you heard the tapping of drumsticks behind you followed by the roar of Mark’s electric guitar.

By the time the show was over, you were utterly exhausted. Between Haechan and Mark, your arms draped across their shoulders, the three of you sang tiredly along to one of your songs as the boys essentially dragged you down the hall toward the back door for some well-earned sleep.

Turning the corner, you saw Jeno with two beautiful blondes. You bristled with annoyance. They were giggling at every little thing he said like they were getting dick after, which you quickly realized was the case.

Not on my watch.

“Let it go,” Haechan said, but he knew it would make no difference.

Jeno did not deserve pussy after how badly he stressed you out. You wriggled out of Haechan and Mark’s arms and made a beeline for the drummer.

“Oh my god,” you said in a loud, obnoxious voice, greeting the girls as you cuddled up to Jeno and patted his chest. “You guys look so cute! But unfortunately, Jeno is only halfway through his chlamydia treatment.”

Wide-eyed, the girls looked at you in horror before sending vengeful expressions at Jeno, who set his jaw and bristled with anger.

You held your hand beside your mouth, pretending to whisper a secret, “Very contagious through bodily fluids.”

The pair of blondes scurried off. One of them gave Jeno the finger.

“I hate and despise you,” Jeno hissed, trudging down the corridor.

You were hot on his heels, ready to resume the argument from earlier. A moniker like Ice Crotch was not going to be forgotten. “Haven’t you had enough threesomes?”

“There’s no such thing as too many threesomes,” Jeno replied, heated. “And I’ve only had four.”

Haechan asked curiously, “You keep track?”

Jeno snorted. “Don’t you?”

“One is easy to remember. I wasn’t into it.”

Mark fell in line beside them and said, more so to himself, “I have questions.”

“I don’t,” you spoke up, backhanding Jeno’s burly arm to get his attention. “Jeno, you’ve got pussy brain and you fucked up the tempo.”

Jeno went quiet, which was the last thing you expected.

Everyone was tired and raw. We were a well-oiled machine, steaming ahead like a freight train, but with time, gears start to grind. When gears grind, they tear through flesh and bone.

I know my boys. It sounds cliche, and I agree, but I know them. We’ve been friends for so long and crossed hundreds of lines of intimacy reserved for soulmates. They can’t hide anything from me.

Especially the things they intentionally try to hide from me.

You knew you had struck a nerve, but you weren’t sure which one. You dug your heels in regardless, but you were miffed when Jeno said nothing and made for the door.

“Did he just storm off?” Mark questioned, equally bemused.

“He never does that,” Haechan said softly, turning to you.

You didn’t hesitate to stomp after him, and Mark and Haechan didn’t follow this time. When fire fought with fire, it was best to keep a distance to avoid getting burned.

The cold of Chicago’s night was bitter on your cheeks when you stepped outside and you pulled your jacket tightly round you. Jeno hadn’t jumped into the van yet. He was lingering in the lot, scraping his shoes across the asphalt as he puffed on a cigarette.

Closing the distance, you called, “The hell is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he replied, avoiding your eyes and blowing out smoke.

“You’re out of sync and you’re acting weird.”

Jeno narrowed his eyes at you. “We were all out of sync tonight. Why am I the only one getting called out on it?”

As usual, no matter how angry he made you, your first instinct when things were too tense was to smooth his feathers. His surface was rough, but at his core, Jeno was tender. You brushed your hand down his arm and said sweetly, “Because you’re the rock…”

"We’re all built on," was going to be the end of that sentence. Unfortunately, I never got to say it.

Jeno cut you off. “I don’t want to be your rock,” he lashed out, hissing your name. “Don’t you feel pathetic leaning on me all the time?”

You recoiled like you’d been slapped and that was when you noticed his eyes. They didn’t belong to the Jeno you knew, but to the monster that stole his mind and would eventually give him back by morning.

Wrapping your arms around yourself in comfort, suddenly much colder than before, your breath pillared into the night like the smoke from his mouth when you whispered, “I didn’t. Until you said that.”

Jeno blinked, realizing too late that he’d hurt you.

That was the thing about me and Jeno. We both thought the other to be fearless and unbreakable, but also knew who we were at each other’s cores. I was his mirror image and he was mine. The broken kids; the kids that just wanted to be loved. The pair everyone knew to be demons, but never stopped to think how we became them.

The fallen angels.

Anger faded from his face in an instant. “I didn’t mean it,” Jeno started, flicking away the cigarette and reaching for you.

You stepped back, not wanting to be touched. “You’re at your most honest when you’re high, baby,” you said sternly, fixing him with a look that rooted Jeno in place. “Don’t lie to me now.”

Jeno swallowed the lump in his throat. How could you always see right through him?

You wiped the tear that spilled down your cheek and escaped into the van, your safe place, your little haven. Jeno ran a hand down his face and cursed, “Fuck,” for hitting you where it hurt.

The rest of the night was tense and awkward, only slacking when sleep took hold. Everyone was painfully exhausted. Chicago had exceeded expectations and pushed all limits. The show was insane. The energy was incredible. I would remember that performance for the rest of my life.

Me and the boys may have been a little out of sync, but each of us gave it our all. We left nothing on the floor and held nothing back.

Haechan curled around you in the bed, keeping you warm. You claimed the bed together more often than not. Mark slept like a vampire, on his back on the floor with his arms at his sides. It was the weirdest thing you’d ever seen, but it worked for him somehow. He slept like a baby, the whistle of his snores filling the van.

Jeno sat in the driver’s seat, looking up at the stars, exhaling the smoke from a joint. He was wide awake, couldn’t sleep. An unfortunate side-effect of the shit he took to get high. The marijuana wasn’t simmering him down as hoped. He’d probably stay up all night and sleep the day away.

Glancing over his shoulder, seeing your pretty face made him smile. You looked even cuter when you slept, but it was frustrating as hell.

No one else noticed he was high but you. Did you really know him that well?

Of course she does, Jeno thought. You were his better half. That’s how it worked. He could never escape you. There was a point of no return when it came to intimacy. Not so long ago, you and Jeno soared past that point. Two reckless teenagers, young and wild, that found all their highs and lows with each other.

Jeno propped his legs up on the dash and closed his eyes, watching the memories like a movie in his head. Mark shredded the electric as if his life was on the line; probably to vent his sexual frustration. Haechan was a whirlwind of energy despite playing that boring ass bass. And you, beautiful you… Mark wasn’t kidding when he said you were a god on stage.

Chicago delivered on the show, but not the after-party. Instead of drinking and fucking the night away, Jeno was in the stuffy van watching the stars go by when he wasn’t stealing glances of you. He wanted to be in your arms, needed you to kiss him and tell him everything would be okay.

You were the fix he craved most of all.

In the time it took him to blink, dawn broke. The sun shone across Jeno’s face. He lifted a hand, shielding his eyes. He grumbled a little and turned in the seat to get comfortable, cursing at the awkward angle his back was in.

Your hand touched his shoulder gently and Jeno lurched in surprise, peering up at you. He’d never looked so weary and drained, but you could see the animal was gone from his eyes. “You’ve been up all night?” Your voice rang with compassion, and Jeno felt utterly undeserving.

He nodded, his eyes fluttering closed, unable to keep them open any longer.

You tugged at him, getting Jeno to his feet and ushering him to the bed, where he basically collapsed onto the mattress. Mark and Haechan were up, crawling around in search of coffee like a pair of zombies. Meanwhile, you let Jeno situate and draped the blanket over him, tucking him in, and brushed some of his hair back from his face.

Jeno took your hand and laced his fingers through yours. “Tell me you love me,” he said in barely a whisper.

“I love you,” you replied without hesitation, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles. You stayed propped over him, wanting to be close so you could be sure he finally drifted off. You left a chaste kiss on his brow and coaxed, “Go to sleep, baby.”

Mark turned away. It wasn’t jealousy he felt, just longing. Seeing you so gentle with someone you were viciously fighting with the night before made him want you more. No matter what was said and done, there was too much love in this cramped little van.

When Jeno’s breathing leveled out and his hand went slack in yours, you finally relaxed. You’d be damned if he went days without sleep. There wasn’t much you could do, but the boys had their limits and you did your best to make sure they weren’t crossed.

Without another word, you clambered into the driver’s seat and turned the key, driving out of the club parking lot and onto the main road. You found a shopping center where Mark and Haechan could run errands while Jeno was out, and you pulled in.

Jeno slept well into the afternoon, stirring when the smell of hot food filled the van. Haechan used some of the gig money to splurge on delicious Chinese takeout.

You pulled out a foldable table from behind the cabinet and stood it up on the floor. The four of you sat around it and ate in silence, stuffing your faces until your bellies were full. You and Haechan gabbed a little, but not much. Mark and Jeno didn’t mutter a single word, both of them stuck in their feelings.

A far cry from how they would be that night.

One last show in Chicago. You were back on the same stage as before. It was the first time the band would perform an additional night at a club.

Jeno and Mark were squabbling, which was a rare enough sight to see. The two generally didn’t like to fuck with each other. It always resulted in fists flying and both were surprisingly really good at scrapping.

You looked to Haechan and rolled your eyes. Your best friend was smiling, on the verge of a laugh.

“We’re doing the third set,” Jeno said firmly.

“She can’t,” Mark replied, anger rising. “Her voice is fried from last night. The third set could knock it out for weeks and we’ll have no singer.”

Jeno shrugged. “She can take it.”

You were thoroughly annoyed. “She’s standing right here,” you spoke up, folding your arms. The audacity they had. It made you bristle, because you knew it had nothing to do with your voice and had everything to do with your body.

“What do you want to do?” Mark asked, softening his voice for you.

Jeno cut in, “Don’t ask her. You have to push her.”

You shot him a nasty scowl. “Stop pushing me.”

“Or what?” He smirked.

You shivered with irritation crossing dangerously toward rage.

“I don’t think you can do the third set,” Jeno said, challenging you, his smirk deepening. “Prove me wrong.”

“I’m not falling for that reverse psychology bullshit.”

“Coward.”

A smug look washed over your face as you hissed, “Don’t you feel pathetic leaning on me?”

The smile fell off Jeno’s lips. “I said I was sorry.”

“Don’t bother. I don’t care,” you snapped, but you definitely cared. The wound was still fresh and stung.

Haechan tilted his head when you looked at him. He was always your anchor in the rough seas of Mark and the violent winds of Jeno. “I’m with you, whatever you choose,” he said.

If I ever walked off that stage, my boys would follow. No questions asked. They would follow me into hell and back. Though the four of us would probably just live there indefinitely.

You straightened your shoulders and your tone left no room for argument. “We’re doing the third set.”

Jeno beamed victoriously. Haechan nodded. Mark gave a look mixed between concern and awestruck.

You sang until you were spent; brutally, wholly, and everything in between. Your legs felt like jelly when you walked off stage and your chest ached, lungs taut. The adrenaline, like a performance-enhancing drug, had run its course and you were officially on empty.

It wasn’t unlike you to push yourself to the absolute limit. You loved the stage. You worshiped the power that surged from your voice when you sang into the mic. Pipes for days, Haechan always said.

The dressing room was a sight for sore eyes. You dropped heavily onto one of the sofas and let your head fall back, closing your eyes. Your throat felt like you’d swallowed razors.

“Try not to talk,” Haechan said, holding up his hand when you shot him an irritated look. “I’m not telling you to be quiet. I’m suggesting you let your voice rest.”

You nodded and sunk back into the sofa again.

Mark was vibrating, the energy of the show still pulsing through him. Brimming with energy (the excess turning into courage), he walked over to you and bent down, pressing a lingering kiss to your brow.

You smiled, knowing it was Mark without opening your eyes.

Jeno finally deigned to grace the rest of you with his presence, bursting into the dressing room and exclaiming, “Holy shit, you killed it!”

“And this is where you take all the credit,” you rasped, wincing at the sound of your own voice.

“I’ll wait till you go to bed and then I’ll take all the credit.”

You lifted your head and narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t you have some ass to chase?”

Jeno licked his lips. “Nah. I only got eyes for you right now.”

“Pluck them out for all I care.”

“You wanna fuck me so bad you look stupid.”

You waved him away, settling down and closing your eyes again, and wheezed, “Have fun with your hand.”

Haechan sat beside you, picking up your legs and draping them over his lap. “I’ve never seen you so mad at him.”

“He just doesn’t stop,” you huffed. “You know when to leave me alone. Mark never pushes my buttons. Jeno just keeps fucking digging.”

Haechan chuckled. “That’s all he knows how to do.”

“Whatever.” You shrugged, feigning indifference.

Mark suddenly asked, “Do you love him?”

You sighed. “I love all three of you. He’s definitely my least favorite though.”

Mark gleamed proudly at Jeno, who scowled back.

“So, if we were drowning, who would you save first?” Haechan asked mischievously.

“Mark. Obviously.”

Mark’s grin widened, while Haechan gasped and put a hand over his heart like it was the ultimate betrayal.

“You can swim,” you said, patting Haechan’s arm over your legs. You opened your eyes and gave Jeno a vicious sneer. “Jeno’s the only one drowning.”

Jeno’s lips squared into a frown.

“What’s that mean?” Mark asked curiously, but Haechan stayed silent. He knew.

“Leave it,” Jeno warned, darker than ever.

The three of you did. Unlike Jeno, you knew when to quit.

Some people did drugs. Others did rock music. A few did both.

The boys dispersed momentarily. You were relieved when the dressing room was empty, leaving you to your thoughts and the searing pain in your vocal chords. Rubbing at your eyes, smearing your makeup, you didn’t hear someone come back in as you muttered to yourself, “God, my throat fucking hurts.”

“It’s probably raw as shit,” Jeno said, making you jolt. And roll your eyes. He cleared his throat and switched his tone to add, “Speaking of raw…”

“No.”

“You let Mark in raw,” he whined loudly.

You cut him a glare. “I wouldn’t let you raw me if you were the last man on earth.”

Jeno pouted. “Ow.”

With a scoff, you decided to turn the tables on him. “Why are you so hard for me the past few days? I can’t even brush my teeth without you humping the air around me.”

There was no shame to be found in Jeno. “I haven’t had you in weeks,” he groaned.

Your lips parted in surprise. “You’ve had every other girl in the country.”

“It’s not the same.”

You stood and crept close to him, close enough to ghost your lips over his mouth. Jeno went boneless, every inch of him fixated to you and what you would do next. He wanted you so bad he couldn’t see straight. So, you decided to yank the metaphorical rug out from under him, sniping, “You’re pathetic.”

“Are you really going to hold that against me forever?” Jeno asked, tensing.

No. It was just easier to be mad at him. That was the only way I could have some defense against the power he had over me.

“I’ll make you a deal,” you said, sliding your hands over his shoulders and winding your fingers into his hair. “Answer one question for me and I’ll forgive you.”

Jeno was one more breath away from kissing you. He knew it was a trap. You were luring him in and he was happy to swallow the bait. “Fine,” he replied in a husky voice, eyes on your lips. “Ask your damn question.”

“What are you taking?”

“What do you mean?”

You hardened your gaze on him and tugged on his hair. “Don’t play that with me. I know better.”

Jeno studied you a moment. You would keep yanking this thread until it unraveled. He pushed, you pulled. The two of you could play tug-of-war with each other’s heartstrings forever. Jeno decided it was better to rip the bandage off and get it over with it.

He reached to the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out a bag, and handed it out to you.

You took a split-second look at the bag and your jaw dropped, your arms falling as you snatched it quickly. “Cocaine? Are you fucking kidding me, Jeno?”

Jeno stole the bag back in the time it took you to blink, returning it to the safety of his pocket. “We’re supposed to do drugs,” he defended, rather unconvincingly. “We’re rockstars.”

“We’re teenagers that just graduated high school with barely enough cash for fuel and chips!”

“How I spend my cut of the money is my business,” Jeno shot back.

“This isn’t about the money.” You folded your arms, scolding him like a mother would a child; oscillating between angry and worried. “You know how dangerous that shit is.”

Jeno shifted his approach too, ever your mirror. “It’s the only way I can perform, babe. If I don’t have it, I can’t focus and I get too nervous.”

You softened even more, like Jeno knew you would. “We can get you something else,” you said gently. “Something better. Safer.”

He scoffed. “With our gas and chips money?”

You sighed, accepting a temporary defeat, but you pressed, “You’re doing it to get high. Not to concentrate.”

Jeno went slack, equally defeated, and reached for your waist. “I’m just trying to have a good time. We know this won’t last. We’re going nowhere.”

You lowered your head. “I know.”

The summer was half over and we hadn’t been scouted. Hope was replaced with disappointment and eventually, disappointment would flip to resentment. We never put it into words, but it was like a cloud following us, day and night.

Jeno took your face in his hands and tipped your chin up until you met his eyes. “Let me have this summer,” he whispered sadly. “Mark got you. I got this.”

Something inside you broke a little.

Yes, when the summer was over, you were Mark’s.

But the summer wasn’t over.

Jeno smiled in surprise when he felt the warmth of your lips on his, but he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and deepen the kiss. Feeling the heat of your body against his was what he’d been craving, wanting you to burn him alive.

My first instinct always was to comfort him. I would chip away at myself and give him every piece if it meant he could use them to stitch his wounds.

Believe it or not, Jeno was my first love, but a first love at fifteen means nothing in the grand scheme of things. He was my first everything, but we just didn’t work. No matter how hard we tried. There was a mad and intense connection between us, inseverable, but in the confines of a relationship, we were wild animals forced together in a cage.

I know few will understand us. Hell, even I don’t understand how I could have so much passion and fire for someone that stretched me thin and forever kept me at the brink of insanity.

But I was beyond questioning it.

Jeno slipped his tongue in your mouth and you grabbed his hips, pulling him flush against you. His kisses were surpassing hungry and landing somewhere near ravenous. The intensity must have scared him, because Jeno suddenly parted from you and took a step back.

You rubbed your lips bashfully, not realizing you were panting until it was the only sound in the quiet dressing room. And Jeno was breathing just as heavily.

“What’s wrong?”

Jeno shook his head. “I want you so bad.”

You snickered. Here you were on a silver platter and he was the one that put distance between you.

Though you opened your mouth to say something snarky, Jeno spoke up, “But you’re going to leave me.”

Your heart sank. It dawned on you; this summer was the end to a lot of things. Youth was ending. The band was ending and with it, all of your dreams.

And the tie between me and Jeno would have to finally be severed so my life with Mark could start.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. You didn’t want to think about Jeno and his broken heart. Or that the drugs you scolded him over were what he used to fill the void you left behind.

Jeno respected the hell out of you for having the strength to leave him. He never could walk away from you even though he knew it was for the best. You would spend your whole life trying to fix him while he would always use you as a crutch.

It wasn’t fair to either you or him.

“Mark is good for you,” Jeno said in barely a whisper, his eyes glistening.

You shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about Mark.”

Jeno swallowed the lump in his throat. Seeing his pain reflected back at him on your face was too much. “Get high with me.”

Your eyes went wide. “Why?”

“You’re my person,” he said, vulnerable. “The only one I’ve ever wanted to do it with.”

This was what you struggled to put into words - the hold this boy had on you. He was bottomless ocean depths.

“It’s always you and me. We do everything together,” Jeno continued, reaching for your hand and leaving a kiss on your knuckles.

You let him pull you back into his arms and asked, “What if I die?”

“I’ll bring you back,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your brow that completely melted you.

“What if you die?”

“Let me go.”

Your eyes suddenly shone with the threat of tears. “Never.”

Jeno leaned into you, stealing a kiss from your lips. “Just this once, babe.”

You paused, thinking it over. Everything inside you screamed, “Yes!” Jeno never failed to bring this side out of you - the reckless, starved one that didn’t give a damn about consequences. You always feared if that was the real you, the true you. “Just this once,” you said quietly, closing your eyes as Jeno sealed his lips to yours again.

The idea of getting high reached out to you with gentle, caressing fingertips, promising to banish the pain and numb the hurt.

Tearing himself away from you once more, Jeno walked over to the door and locked it.

Yet another first time with Jeno to add to my list.

You were caught off-guard at how fast the high kicked in and never before had you noticed how tense your body was until it wasn’t anymore. Your mind was even lighter. There was no more torment. You could feel that it was there, but it didn’t ache any longer.

The sensation was indescribable. You were whole, perfect, immortal and invincible all at once.

And that was how you found yourself on the couch with Jeno, pawing at each other like animals in heat.

“Jeno?”

“I know.”

You sucked in a breath as he nipped at your neck and asked weakly, “Am I going crazy?”

“Babe,” he said, meeting your eyes with a smirk. “You been crazy.”

You laughed and the sound was music to Jeno’s ears, making his smile widen.

Time blurred together. It could have been the next day or the next year for all you cared. All you knew was this moment with Jeno and how it lasted a lifetime.

You sank deeper into the sofa beneath Jeno’s weight. Your thighs were hooked on his hips, hands roaming his taut, muscly back. Both your shirt and his tee were somewhere on the floor, along with your bra.

Jeno kept grinding into you, each movement rougher than the last. “Fuck,” he swore, lips brushing your ear. “I just know you’re getting so fucking wet right now.”

He wasn’t wrong.

A wanton noise of pleasure escaped you and Jeno ate it up. You were burning by a thousand degrees, it was almost painful. You had never craved someone’s body on such a primal level before.

With Mark, it was love, but this? This was lust running wild with abandon.

The doorknob wiggled. You didn’t hear it over the loud thumping in your ears and neither did Jeno, who was far too busy bruising your neck whilst he kneaded your breasts, pinching your nipples to make you squirm. Haechan didn’t need to try the knob again to know what was going on. He turned to Mark, who was coming down the hall, and led him away.

“They’re working out their issues. Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said hurriedly. Mark hesitated, but didn’t argue. He was none the wiser. With the way you and Jeno had been at each other’s throats, it never crossed his mind that you would fuck him.

Meanwhile, you were discovering new uncharted levels of arousal, undulating beneath Jeno, trying to match his movements, which were getting faster and harder. The drugs in your system made everything feel more intense, all-consuming. There was no tension, no insecurity, just instinct and pleasure.

Jeno was definitely waiting for you to give him the green light, and you were enjoying keeping it from him, but the throbbing between your legs was unbearable.

You planted your hands on his thick chest and pushed, making Jeno prop over you and look into your face. “Wanna fuck now?” you asked sheepishly.

His pupils dilated. “I thought you’d never ask.”

You whined when Jeno clambered off of you, standing next to the sofa and unfastening his pants. Before he drew them down his thighs, he pulled condoms from his pocket and dropped them on your lap.

“Two?” You snorted. “My lucky day.”

“One for each girl. You know, the ones you chased away from me.”

Licking your lips as his hard cock sprang into view, you grabbed him by the hips and purred, “I called first dibs on that dick years ago.”

Jeno chuckled, but his expression changed on a dime when you leaned in. He watched you drag your lips over his abs, kissing and nibbling along his happy trail. His breaths stuttered as he said, “Whenever you want it, it’s all yours.”

You peeked up at him hotly. “I want it now.”

While Jeno fitted himself with a condom, you shimmied out of your pants and underwear, and the moment they were on the floor, you turned onto your knees, braced yourself on the arm of the sofa, and arched your back, sticking your ass in the air.

He wouldn’t be able to resist it for a second.

“Fuck you,” Jeno hissed, getting into position behind you and raking his cock between your folds, gathering your slick from tip to base.

You wiggled your hips. Your brain was clouded with lust and drugs, and something purely hungry for Jeno. Like he was your favorite meal. “Gimme it,” you huffed, glancing over your shoulder. “What the fuck is taking so long?”

Jeno gave your ass a smack, making you squeak. “You need to calm down,” he chided with a grin, still sliding his length between your slit. He was so riled up his hips jerked against you involuntarily.

You reached between your legs, getting a hand around his dick and steering it into your aching pussy. Jeno let you, biting his lip and smirking at how goddamn horny you were for him.

The head of his cock pressed into your entrance and you grasped the arm of the sofa with both hands as Jeno began thrusting forward, working himself inside until he impaled you on every last inch of his girthy cock. You buried your face in the couch, biting down on the stressed leather.

Jeno gripped your waist tight and drew you to him until he was balls deep in your tight heat, feeling your walls stretch and flutter around his length. The drugs amplified everything about you; your warmth, your scent, your sounds. He barely noticed the condom at all.

When he drew back and shoved his cock back into your cunt, you lifted your head and cried, “Fuck!”

“You’re so wet,” Jeno growled, sinking in and out to hear your slick pussy welcoming him back.

You whimpered. “Fuck you and that big dick,” you mumbled, but you didn’t mean a word of it. You weren’t sure how much you could blame the drugs anymore. You wanted him to plow the living shit out of you until there was nothing left.

Jeno took that personally. As a challenge more than anything. He squeezed your waist in his hands and smacked his hips into your ass, driving his cock into your core and giving you something to really whine about.

It was all you could do not to scream as he took you for all you were worth. You fisted the couch in your hands until your knuckles ached and you threw yourself back to meet his strokes, a noise escaping on your hoarse throat with every rushed breath. Sex was a drug all its own. It just felt too damn good.

Jeno kept his hard pace, making sure he landed flush against your heat every time, and brushed his hands up your body to wrap them around your throat and tip your head back. “Yeah, that’s my good slut,” he taunted, the smack of his body colliding with yours getting louder. “She’s taking all that dick, huh?”

The sounds you made were humiliating, but they only made Jeno harder. His grip on your neck had you slack-jawed, your eyes winched closed. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him!

It wasn’t fair that he had that kind of power over my body. With him, I felt desired and powerful, and between that - untainted. Unbroken. Jeno never saw me for the damaged goods that I was. To him, I was always perfect. He completed me. No matter how unhealthy it was, I wanted it.

I didn’t need drugs. Jeno’s love was my high.

“Don’t stop,” you choked out, his hands heavy on your strained vocal chords. “Don’t ever stop...”

Loving me. Though the words wouldn’t come, Jeno knew them.

“Never, baby,” Jeno said, releasing your throat in favor of your waist, draping himself over you and burying his face in your neck. His hands wandered your breasts as he plunged in as far as he could go and stopped, leaving a few scattered, reassuring kisses across your shoulders.

Your body trembled when he bottomed out, aching with need and overstimulation. You swallowed to wet your throat, panting for air, and asked, “Why are you…?”

“You’re so fucking high, baby,” Jeno crooned, touching you gently and affectionately. “Just trust me.”

He was right. You were high on drugs and his body. You were a nerve laid bare, every brush of his hands enough to make you shiver. Your body pulsated, like you were being dangled over the edge, the pressure becoming too much to bear.

You held yourself up on hands and knees, tortured by the fact he was no longer moving inside you, but his hands playing with your breasts and his lips on your neck had your attention. The stimulation was sending more shudders across your skin, making you lean into his touch as your core throbbed for him.

“Part of you will always be mine,” Jeno whispered into your neck. “I know you’ll pick him over me, but part of you will always miss me.”

You tensed with unshed tears and cried, “I know.”

“I need you to know it’s okay,” Jeno said, turning your head and kissing you with so much pain and pleasure it knocked the wind out of you.

You kissed him back, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. It was a cruel curse - to love someone so deeply that was bad for you.

Jeno broke the kiss and rocked gently into you, staying in deep and lilting his cock inside your walls, the head of him kissing your cervix. Normally, you would have pushed at his hips for some mercy, but the high made you impervious to pain.

Suddenly, he thrust in hard but slow, arching his hips. You staggered out a moan and reached out to steady yourself, almost knocked off balance by his strength.

He did it again and again.

Tears pricked at your eyes. Jeno was hitting you with those drawn-out, domineering strokes, making you feel every inch of him slam against your sweet spot. He may have agreed to never hold you choosing Mark over him against you, but he was going to give you one final reminder of how absolute his control of your body was.

“I’m coming,” you warned, his name a mantra on your tongue as you took all he had to give. You were grateful for the roar of music coming from the other side of the wall, drowning out your cries and Jeno’s moans.

Jeno fisted a hand in your hair while the other still tugged and rolled your nipples. He kept his pace, hips slapping into your ass at a perfect rhythm, knowing you were on the edge of orgasm with the way your walls clamped down on his cock.

“Fuck!” Another brutal thrust sent you into ecstasy. You shook and swore, trying to crawl away from him, but Jeno was on you, shoving you into the couch and riding out your high.

“Good girl,” Jeno hissed, watching you writhe beneath him. He went still and tipped his head back, letting out a tiny moan.

You blinked to clear your eyes. You could feel the bruises forming in your skin as Jeno pinned you to the couch. It only turned you on more. When you realized he was still hard, that he hadn’t come, you mumbled under your breath. He was supposed to finish with you.

Jeno’s eyes flickered. Another moan escaped him as you rolled your hips, desperate for friction. He drifted his hands to your hair, gathering it all in his fists.

You sat up and went to work, fucking him as best you could in your position. Despite the condom, your pussy wanted to milk every drop of cum out of his dick. Post-nut clarity hadn’t set in. Either the drugs or the orgasm made you even more feral for this dumb boy.

“Oh, fuck,” Jeno groaned, watching you throw it back, bouncing your ass on him, taking him like a fucking champ. His abs tightened as he tried not to pound the fuck out of you. Instead, he reeled his hand back and slapped your ass, goading you.

“Come for me, baby,” you said darkly, the room echoing with the loud, wet clap of your bodies meeting.

Jeno growled a low curse in this throat. Suddenly he was on the edge, driven by your command and that tight fucking cunt.

You shrieked in surprise when he flipped you over roughly, the sound devolving into a moan when he steered his cock back into your pussy, grabbed your waist, and drilled into you like he would never get the chance again.

He didn’t last long at that pace. Jeno threw his head back and came, one moan after another tumbling from his pretty mouth, each one more ragged than the last as he emptied himself into the condom.

You brushed your hands over his thighs and hips, whispering little nothings as he came, feeling him shake like a leaf as he buried himself inside you. Once Jeno settled down, you touched his chest and asked, “Holy shit. Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” he wheezed, voice cracking, all the air knocked out of him.

Biting your lip to fight a laugh, you failed to hide the smug grin taking over your face.

“Don’t,” Jeno said weakly, rubbing at his eyes.

“You just came so hard you cried,” you teased, pinching his nipple for good measure.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

Feeling him about to pull out, you reached for his waist and held him there, joking, “I will remember this, forever and ever, and I will bring it up every time you get on my nerves.”

“You’re the worst.” He sobered, leaning in close. “And you’re the best I've ever had.”

You smiled as he kissed you, sealing his words on your lips. Then you giggled as his mouth traveled over your chest, sucking on a nipple. Your buds were still stiff and Jeno couldn’t resist.

“I see how easy it is to get addicted,” you said when Jeno got up to discard the condom. “That shit is intense.”

“Told you.”

Sitting up, you ran your hands through your messy hair. You could only imagine how you looked; makeup smeared, glistening with sweat. “You know you have to stop,” you told him, making your voice gentle.

Jeno afforded you no looks. “Eventually.”

You were too tired to argue, sore and spent in the best ways. When Jeno returned to the couch, you welcomed him with open arms, pulling him close and steering him to lay his head on your naked chest. You stroked your fingers through his hair and over his broad shoulders, and whispered, “I’ll never let you die, Jeno.”

He stayed quiet.

“You’re not allowed to leave me.”

“Stalker.”

You snorted back a laugh. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Jeno lifted his head and nuzzled your cheek, teasing, “I just think it’s cute how obsessed you are with me.”

You kept touching him. His skin was just so hot beneath your fingertips, like caressing an open flame. “Are you really okay with dying?” you asked after a moment.

Jeno shrugged. “It’s unavoidable. I don’t see the point in sweating over it.” As he spoke, Jeno kissed at your neck slowly, curious if he could get you riled up again.

Your lashes fluttered and you shifted underneath him. Though he left you more than satisfied, the longer he kissed over your pulse and palmed your breasts, the quicker the ache in your core came back, ready to be filled up again.

Jeno reached down to cup your sex, running his finger over your swollen clit and swearing under his breath when he felt your soaked entrance, thinking how easily he could slide right back in and make you feel good. Both of you.

“If you died,” you stammered, struggling to form words as he touched you. “I don’t think I would ever smile again.”

Jeno was caught off-guard. He stopped pawing at you to look in your eyes, wondering if you realized just how heavy a thing that was to say. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” he told you innocently, kissing the corner of your mouth with affection.

It was the first time you’d seen him so serious. Not hiding behind his usual humor.

Jeno was surprised when you pushed him away and reached for your pants on the floor. He watched curiously as you rifled through your pocket and withdrew a balled-up piece of paper and handed it to him.

“For the memoir?”

You nodded, watching him unfurl the page, your heart thumping harshly in your chest. “Yeah, I’m constantly jotting stuff down.”

Jeno’s eyes drifted over your words.

I can’t stand him. He infuriates me. He makes me crazy. But Jeno is the one person that knows me - the good and the bad, and accepts them both.

I love my boys, but he’s the one I don’t think I could ever live without.

Jeno peered at you with glassy eyes, shining with tears. “Damn it,” he groaned, crashing his lips on yours.

As expected, you made use of that second condom.

Jeno hooked your legs in the crooks of his arms and thrust languidly, staring down at you. Your eyes never parted as he gave you release once more, knowing when the summer was over, he would never get to touch you again.

When all was said and done, the two of you slumped into opposite sides of the sofa, soaked with sweat. Once you caught your breath and Jeno returned from tossing the condom, it was your turn to clamber on top of him, using his chest as your pillow. You rested your head on his shoulder and traced senseless patterns over his collarbone with your fingertips.

Jeno said your name. “I want you to be happy. That’s all I want, but I know I can’t give it to you. I tried.”

You closed your eyes. It would keep the tears at bay. “I know.”

“I feel sorry for you, loving all three of us. It can’t be easy.”

“It’s what I was made for,” you said softly, tightening your arms around him, lest he fly away from you and never return.

Jeno changed subjects before it broke him. “I’ve never felt so self-aware of how it feels to be young. And how it doesn’t last long.”

You nodded slightly. “This time is precious.”

“I wouldn’t say precious. Definitely fun though.”

You snickered, relieved to hear his humor coming back, but a somber feeling rushed over you. “Do you think we’ll ever get tired of it?”

“Of what?”

“The performing, the fucking, and… the drugs.”

Jeno paused. “You mean each other.”

You sighed tersely. There was no hiding it from him.

My biggest fear was that my boys would hate me. That I would be a bitter reminder of what could have been, how close we were to our dreams before crash landing back on earth, broken and bruised forever from the fall.

Jeno brushed his fingers up and down your back, and kissed the top of your head. “I don’t think we’ll resent each other if this fails, babe,” he said in a low voice. Some things just aren’t meant to be, he thought sadly. Like you and me.

“If that happened, I think I would die,” you whimpered, burrowing your face in his chest.

“Don’t talk like that,” Jeno said, running his hand mischievously over your thigh. “But stop being so afraid of death. You’ll waste your life running from something that is going to catch you no matter what.”

You tipped your head back to kiss him. “I just know the devil dreads meeting us. We’ll steal his throne.”

Jeno kissed you back hotly. “Hell yeah. I can’t wait to fuck you on it.”

You laughed.

Hard to steal something that already belongs to you, Jeno.

#nct #nct smut #jeno #jeno smut #nct dream smut #jeno x reader

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the-fiction-witch · 10 months

Text

Little Duck

Media The Maze Runner

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Smut AF!

I laid so very cosy and comfy in my sweet covers, the sound of the glade starting up for the day outside the little shed I called my room. I knew it would be time for work soon but I was just so comfy I couldn't bare to get up. I heard my door open and close and the familiar voice speak up

“Mornin’ Love, Time for work.” AHH newt the sweet blonde Brit that certainly works to my advantage.

Newt and I … let's say have an agreement, an unspoken agreement as it were. We had both been in the glade a good while and of course had grown in that time from little kids to mature teens. Well mostly mature anyway and of course being locked in a huge maze doesn't exactly stop the natural processes of puberty and hormones so we'd become… helpful to each other let's say.

I smiled and pushed my covers away a little sitting up as I wore only my loose oversized blue hoodie one side completely fallen off my shoulder, and my hair a mess from my sleep, I did a big yawn stretching my arms high and rubbing my little eyes as cute as I could, and of course he stood there at the end of my little mattress with his arms crossed over his chest staring like I was a fresh plate of bacon. I knew what I was doing all I needed is for his blonde butt to figure it out. Which didn't always come so easy this early.

“Good morning second in command, what's on the plan today?” I asked sweetly

“We have a few trees to cut down on the edge of the deadheads, some weeding, some inventory and then dinner” he explained

“Ohh I see. Do you think maybe I could skip the trees?”

“Why?”

“I'm just really sleepy newt. Yesterday took it out of me”

“You had a day off yesterday”

“Exactly now my body is so tried, you think I could stay in bed just an extra twenty minutes pretty please?” I whined moving my knees a little to open them more and tugging down my hoddie a little more

“You need to work little duck” he warns

“Please, just a little longer”

“We could maybe an arrangement?”

“Oh?”

“Hoodie off.” He demanded

So I pulled my hoodie throwing it onto my bed he smirked and crawled in with md sitting behind me and pressing his chest against my back before he grabbed my breasts he gave them a good firm squeeze before then jiggling them in his hands holding under them to feel their weight sitting and fondling my breasts for a good few minutes

“Ummm what a good little duck,” he cooed kissing my cheek of course by now my nipples were semi hard which he took as an Invitation to pinch them and tug on them to force them to harden “humm it is a little cold in here isn't it?”

“Very cold, you should warm me up”

“Ohh I will” he smirked twisting them and pinching them between his index finger and thumb moving his fingers back and forth hard and fast leaving me nowhere to escape arching my back and trying not to squeal from the pleasure it caused I moved my hand back to wrap in the strands of his blonde hair and pull him down to kiss my neck all while he chuckled amused at the idea all the other glade boys stare, talk and dream of My breasts and he got to play with them to his heart's content and his own amusement and torturing me one hand left however slipping down my stomach and between my legs to run his fingers across my lips “ohh what a wet little duck.” He cooed but I grabbed his wrist and forced his hand away

“You know the rules. You want more I get more” I whispered

“You'll get to cum isn't that enough for you?” He whispered back

“You want to touch this?” I asked moving his hand to my mound “then you have to pay up newt”

“Fine.” He snapped “you get half an hour meet me in the garden and we'll start the weeding” he says giving my breasts and good squeeze before he got up licking his fingers where he rubbed on my lips

“And if I'm late?”

“Don't be late. Or I'll spank my little duck so hard her pretty ass will be red a week. Got it?” he warns stroking my jaw and tapping my nose

“Yes newt” I giggled

“Alright, weeding half an hour” he remained before he left so I happily got my covers and got cosy for an extra half an hour rest.

Once I got up properly I got dressed into my bra, panties, hoodie and shorts doing up my shoes and heading out into the glade and off to the gardens where I found newt just starting in the weeding he saw me with a slight glare gave me my area to work on, so I started my work kneeling in the dirt to weed the plants humming to myself as I did. Until I felt a firm slap on my ass

“Your late” he said as he worked beside me

“You said thirty minutes”

“Yes thirty not fouty little duck” he glared

“I'm here now aren't I?” I smiled having to lean a little forward to pull a weed and he slapped my ass hard

“Deadheads. Now.” He demanded heading there himself so I pulled the weed and followed him, as soon as we were out of sight of the other boys he grabbed the small of My back and forced me over a fallen tree leaving me bent over at his mercy, “don't disobey the second in command little duck. I warned what would happen” he smirked using of the ties for the plants to tie my ankles together before he unbuttoned and janked my shorts down to my ankles “awww cute” he smirked snapping my panties before he pushed them higher leaving them tight to my pussy and leaving my ass cheeks exposed he gave them a squeeze first then a gentle sooth before he spanked me hard

“Uhhh!” I gasped

“Not a word.” He demanded so I silenced “humm that's a good little duck” he cooed but his spanking continued he made sure to change cheek often so by now both where red, sore, and ached with his every touch “you only have yourself to blame’ he cooed giving me a moment of resbite as he slid my panties to the side and slipped three of his long slender fingers inside moving them from tip to knuckle over and over driving me crazy my wetness dripping down his fingers and my legs “uhh a very soaked little duck” he growled I found grips in the tree trying desperately not to scream as my eyes rolled back from the building pleasure all while my ass still stung in pain he slipped them out licked them clean as he moved to grind his hard bulge against me making me ache for him but he spanked me again before he moved and licked my pussy from my clit to the bottom of my entrance “ummm shuck- I wanna eat you so bad little duck.” He growled licking my clit and around my entrance to toy with me “maybe I would if you got here in time” he smirked before he slipped his tounge inside me using it as he had his fingers moving in and out flicking the tip of his tounge as he did to pleasure me so much but before I could even moan he pulled back and bit my left ass cheek hard enough to leave his teeth there in my sore skin but not to draw blood or anything he stood and spread my ass as far as possible making it ache given how sore it was and he spat down letting it drip down onto my already soaked pussy “finish your weeding then we have inventory in the shed” he said spanking me again “you dare, be late again little duck.” He warns heading back to the gardens taking his tie with him but I giggled and looked over my shoulder at him spreading my legs a little more as I moved back from the tree and touched my toes leaving nothing me hidden

“Or else what?” I giggled standing back up acting as innocent as possible even with my pussy out and just tugging my hoodie down to hide my pussy a little bit

“Or I'll walk you through the whole glade with your shorts around your ankles and my bite mark on your ass” he smirked before he went back to the glade, I quickly fixed my shorts even if my ass was badly sore and I went back to work as everyone went on break.

I did my work and headed for the shed luckily I was there first so I slipped off my shorts and hoodie before I began the inventory work counting seeds and small starter cuttings and soon enough the door opened, closed and locked. He stood there hoodie around his waist licking his lips as he saw me “what a good little duck” he cooed “right here waiting for me” he smirked coming to kneel with me and grabbing my body hard “you just have to wear that for me don't you?”

“I thought you liked me to work comfortably”

“Yeah there's comfy and there's half naked?”

“Which would you rather?”

“We both know the answer to that little duck” he smirked biting his lip as his index finger slipped down the centre of my bra tugging it hard to pull my bra fro my tits

“Newt can't you do the inventory? My hands are tried from weeding”

“Are they now? Well you want something you better pay up?” He smirked

“Okay, against the shelf” I told him and he happily went and stood against the shelf so I crawled over making sure he got a good look at me before I stroked up his legs and unlaced his brown pants while he petted my hair, I pulled them down exposing his hard bulge in his washed out red boxers which I pulled down quickly too to reveal his hard erection desperate veins across his stuff shaft and his head egarly dripping precum I giggled and toyed with him batting him with my fingers and my nose sometimes pressing little tiny kisses to his shaft

“You may struggle at first little duck,”

“Why?”

“I've already cum today”

“Did you? When?” I giggled

“Not telling”

“Tell me newt, or I'll have to titty fuck it out of you”

“Umm yeah? That a promise little duck?’

“Tell me” I warn squeezing his base

“Fine! I skipped breakfast. After I just spent all morning in your room playing with those cute bloody tits your can't blame me for being too hard to go to work. So I skipped breakfast and got myself off in the bathroom”

“Naughty newtie” I giggled kitten licking his head

‘uhh! How could I not having my hands on those perk tits”

“I managed not to finger myself both in bed and after the deadheads”

“Well you have more restraint then I do. Plus you know you'll get to cum later you know I can't sleep without watching you squeal. I don't always get to cum”

“Well I'll make sure of it” I smiled taking him into my mouth and sucking gently moving my head up and down his shaft he grabbed my hair and threw his head back holding back his moans badly

“Uhhhh…. Uhhhh… uummm shuck!... Uuuughhhhh! Oh god yes! Uhhh harder little duck” he moaned but I ignored him instead cupping his balls massaging the to make his release easier “‘uhhhh harder! I need ya come on! I'm so close little duck, ummm bloody hell- uhhhh y/n please I'm on the edge little duck just a little harder!” He begs so I sucked hard and swirled my tongue around his head which was enough to too him over clamping his hand over his mouth as he moaned loudly gripping my hair tight as little spurts of his jizz tumbled onto my tounge filling my mouth. I swallowed everything pulling back to see just how much had covered his shaft even after I swallowed all that and I licked him clean

“So much, especially after you've already cum this morning” I giggled

“Well you treat me too good little duck. Get some clothes on I'll finish up.” He said fixing his clothes

“I thought you liked me like this?’ I pouted squishy my boobs together with my arms

“I like you to much like this that's the problem. You keep making me hard” he smirked

“Fine” I sighed getting my clothes back on.

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anonymousewrites · 5 months

Text

Burden of Truth (Book 1) Chapter Fifteen

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Chapter Fifteen: In a New Chapter

Summary: (Y/N), Marc, and Steven experience a new type of life.

Mouse Note: Thank you so much for reading Burden of Truth (Book 1)! I had so much fun sharing with everyone. Really, I loved writing this. I hope that more Moon Knight content comes out soon because I already miss these guys so much. But, for now, I must say goodbye. I have more content in other series coming, and I have other Father Figure stories, so, please, take a look if you liked this story! Until next time

(Y/N) stepped out of the Great Pyramid. Their mind was their own. Their choices were their own. Their purpose was their own.

The warmth of the rising sun greeted them as they stepped out, and (Y/N) took a deep breath. Fresh, free air greeted their lungs. For a moment, they just stood there, existing. That’s all they wanted to do, forever.

“Hey. You alright, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) opened their eyes and looked at Layla. They grinned. “I’m great.”

“You’re not an Avatar anymore, are you?” said Marc.

(Y/N) shook their head. “No. Ma’at gave me a gift in thanks, and then she let me go.”

“Nicer than Khonshu,” muttered Marc.

Steven switched in. “What are you going to do now?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You’re not going to just…wander off alone, are you?” asked Steven worriedly.

“…I don’t know what else to do,” said (Y/N).

Layla scoffed. “No way are we letting you go off alone. You’re what, seventeen? No.”

“What else do I do?” asked (Y/N).

“Come back to London with me! And Marc!” said Steven instantly.

(Y/N) blinked, and their heart warmed. “What?”

“Layla is…going to be off doing Layla things, but we’re…we’re going to try to figure things out, Marc and I, between us. So we’re going back to London, to my flat,” said Steven, smiling.

“I—You want me to?” whispered (Y/N) as if the spell of being wanted, belonging, would break if they spoke too loudly, no matter how honest Steven’s words were.

Layla rolled her eyes. (Y/N) was apparently oblivious to how much Steven and Marc had become attached to them. “Of course they do.”

“Come home with us,” said Steven.

“Really?” They knew it was the truth, but it felt too impossible to accept. (Y/N) felt tears collect in their eyes, and their heart swelled with so much warmth it felt like they would burst.

“We’re not leaving you alone, kid,” said Marc, switching to front. He pulled (Y/N) in and hugged them.

(Y/N) let out a happy sob and grinned. They hugged back.

A few months later…

(Y/N)’s eyes opened as sunlight warmed their skin. Rolling over, they looked out the window at the bustle of London below. They smiled.

“Heya, are you awake, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) sat up as Steven poked his head into the room. “I’m up.”

“Oh, good, I’m making pancakes. Want some?” said Steven.

(Y/N) smiled. “Sure.”

Steven grinned and nodded, leaving the room.

(Y/N) got out of bed and changed into their day clothes. Pulling on a t-shirt and jeans, they looked in the mirror. They didn’t need to be prepared for thievery or fighting. They could just…be.

Walking out of their room, (Y/N) walked to the kitchen portion of the flat.

“Hey, Guses,” said (Y/N), picking up fish food and sprinkling it into the tank where two fish swam together.

“Oh, yeah, we forgot to feed him this morning,” said Steven. “Thanks!”

“No, I told you too, and you forgot,” said Marc from the mirror.

“He’s cooking, so it’s alright,” said (Y/N), taking a plate from Steven.

“He should make an omelet. You don’t get enough protein with him,” said Marc.

“I make sure they do!” defended Steven, but there was nothing adversarial.

“Marc, I cook for myself,” said (Y/N) matter-of-factly. “You don’t have to worry.”

“But I do,” said Marc, switching in and pulling out eggs to start cooking.

(Y/N) laughed and smiled.

“What are you doing today?” asked Marc, glancing at (Y/N).

They paused and considered. “I don’t know.” And that was the honest truth. They grinned. “I’m going to walk around and see what interests me.”

Marc’s gaze softened, and he smiled. “Alright. Just be careful.” He scooped eggs onto their plate. “And don’t forget, you and I are training later.”

“Right,” said (Y/N), eating their pancakes and eggs. “I’ll be back at 4.”

“Do you need pocket money?” said Steven from the reflection in the aquarium.

(Y/N) shook their head. “I managed to save some money when I worked with Ma’at. I’m fine.”

“Alright, but if you need anything, anything at all, you’ll tell us, right?” said Steven, fretting as usual.

(Y/N) smiled. “I will. Thank you.” They stood, passed their plate to Marc, and picked up their messenger back—the first item they’d bought in London. It reminded them of what their parents brought with them. “Bye. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, kid,” said Marc, watching them go.

The door slammed closed behind them, and Marc smiled.

“We’re doing good, aren’t we?” said Steven, looking at Marc.

“I hope so. They’re a good kid,” said Marc.

“Yeah. I really like them. It’s kind of like…we’re a family, you know?” said Steven.

“I know,” said Marc, his gaze softening. “I know.”

(Y/N) hummed as they sat down at the café of a bookstore they’d happened upon. Opening their phone, they scrolled through the news. As usual, the first things that popped up were the latest moves of some of the newer superheroes on the scene, like the new, female Hulk or a girl fighting with crystal-like abilities in Jersey City.

Leaving the news behind, (Y/N) clicked on their music and pressed play.

“El Melouk” began to play through their earbuds, and they smiled, taking a sip of their coffee.

“Look, look, look where we have been/and where we are now.”

(Y/N) smiled.

They had lost everything, but now, they were living. They had people they cared about. They had a home. (Y/N) even dared say they had a family.

And (Y/N) had a chance to figure out who they were.

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

@oscarissac2099

@amberforest08

@kyalov

@yyourmotherr

@im-making-an-effort

@the-toskaverse

@wra-1-th

@noodleryworld

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chwedout · 11 days

Text

chwedout has finally reached 1k followers! thank you to everyone who decided to press the follow button, from those who followed me way back in the spiderstingle days to those who only followed me recently, i really appreciate it! to celebrate this milestone, i've decided to do a few things.

first of all, i've finally started a tracking tag — #chwedoutbox. you can find more about it in this post. i can't wait for you all to use it so i can see and share all the cool things you create.

secondly, i've decided to open up my ask box to requests! all you need to do is choose one of the following prompts and send a request through my ask box.

seventeen member + music video (e.g. vernon in rock with you)

seventeen member + going seventeen episode (e.g. mingyu in svt's kitchen for two)

this or that (e.g. left & right era wonwoo or 24h era wonwoo/ long haired jeonghan or short haired jeonghan)

there's no limit to how many requests you can send, go wild if you want to. i just ask that you be patient with me as sometimes i do like to go outside to breathe in fresh air and touch some grass. sending requests on anon is okay too! however, i won't be able to tag you when i do eventually post your request.

now i just want to say a massive thank you to all of my mutuals! being sappy lowkey makes me cringe but i couldn't have reached this milestone without any of you. to my og mutuals (i won't tag you dw) who were here way before i turned into a kpop blog, to my newest mutuals who i probably haven't spoken to, thank you! i hope you all know how much i appreciate you and that you all mean so much to me ♡

first of all my ride or dies- the hhu wives- sarah @vertiny, bec @storyoflight, and alex (idk if you deactivated </3) i literally would not be here without all of you. we've been through so much together and i just want to say that i love all of you so so much! let's all hope that we can one day go to that svt concert together.

j @vcrnons - my dolly in crime and my first ever caratual on tumblr! if i remember correctly, you followed me way back when i hadn't fully committed to being an svt blog yet. thank you so much for being so kind and supportive to me when i first started. i mean it when i say i don't think i'd be here if we didn't become mutuals since your work always inspired me to start creating myself.

ophelia @lee-sanghyeok - another one of my fave vernon stans! thank you for always being a joy to see on the dash! you're so incredibly sweet and i know i can always count on you to send me vernon content when i ask for it.

kashi @jeonsupershy - one of my fave wonwoo stans fr! seeing all of your wonwoo gifs always puts a smile on my face. every time he does something i just know that i'm going to be reblogging one of your stunning gifs later in the day. thank you for always being such an awesome presence on the dash. i'm so grateful to be mutuals with you!

max @scouped - you are so incredibly talented and i really hope you know that! i'm always in awe whenever i see one of your creations on my dash. you definitely inspire me to push the boundaries of my creativity when it comes to making content. i do miss your presence on tumblr but i'm always happy when i see you on the dash from time to time.

tiff @uservernon - my beloved dolly moot! thank you for always being so sweet. you always bring such a fun and bright presence to caratblr and i love seeing you on the dash or in my notifs especially when you're screaming about vernon. the url is still a powermove in my opinion!

maddie @jeonwon-wonwoo - you are genuinely one of the kindest and friendliest people i've met on tumblr. i've had so much fun talking to you about the most random things. i'll never forget our chats about the walking dead and teen wolf. i hope you're doing well!

yena @fairyhaos - my fave joshua stan! i hope you know that every time i see the couch shua pic i think of you lmao. i always love seeing you lose your mind over shua and you never fail to make me laugh with all the tags you leave on posts. thank you for bringing such a positive energy to caratblr! i'm so glad to have you as a mutual.

zaynab @galatariel - another one of my insanely talented mutuals! your gifs are always so gorgeous and always inspire me to go out of my comfort zone and create something new. i always enjoy seeing you make content for the things you love. thank you for being so kind and helpful.

nuri @jjunhui - again, another mutual who is extremely talented! everything you make is just stunning and your svt as text posts gifsets never fail to make me laugh. thank you for being so supportive and kind. i am so grateful to have you as a mutual.

nana @kyeomies - so glad to see that you're back! i've always enjoyed seeing your pretty gifs on my dash and can't wait to see more of your content. i hope you're doing well!

yo @redrcbin - literally one of my most beloved mutuals! i'm still not 100% sure when we became mutuals but i think it's pretty funny if it was because of the c-word game. i always love seeing you on the dash and in my notifs, especially when i see you losing your mind over wonwoo or mingyu. i'm so happy i get to call you a friend.

and to all the mutuals that i haven't talked to or interacted with that much - @jeongtokkie, @kimsmingyu, @wonboos, @leedonghun, and @soonhoonsol - thank you so much for being awesome! i really hope we do get to talk more in the future.

now i'm going to kick myself because tumblr won't let me tag anymore people and i'm pretty sure i've missed out on so many beloved mutuals of mine. i'm extremely sorry if i did, but please know that i appreciate every single one of you so much!

#chwedout #1k celebration #long post

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helloescapist · 9 months

Note

Can you do romantic modern au HCs for daki and a female y/n the same age whos kinda nerdy and introverted but very patient and affectionate towards daki? Kind of like an opposites attract sort of thing, like maybe they met in class and get paired together for a group project, and things slowly escalate from there? Like Daki eventually grows a soft spot for y/n

-🐼

hello, hello, 🐼

I kind of love the idea of Daki falling for a shyer personality, one that struggles with socializing, and easily nervous. Specifically, when we consider that Daki was a oiran in her human life as a means of survival, and even continuing the line of work in her demon rebirth, Daki essentially is predisposed to considering other women as threats whether its status or financial. Oirans are terrifying--- just imagining Daki with a female she can actually grow to trust and love over time is wholesome fluff I need.

And all of a sudden—I’m just going to have to break this into two parts. That’s really all there is to it. Oh the wellllllll

Sincerely, | Daki

Word Count: 2382

Setting: Daki x fem!reader

Content Warning(s): suggestive, ecchi content, reader is a low key perv (but like, who isn't in their teen years), will have mentions of assault in parts to come, girlxgirl, yuri, modern AU

Summary: an unlikely train encounter, and questionable tutoring.

A/N: the amount of effort I put into calculating how tall Daki would likely be is just… why am I like this? Spoiler alert, she is likely around 5’2-5’4, but as she appears tall for her era when you take away her shoes, such as when you view her height in comparison to Koinatsu, but for the purpose of adapting her to a modern AU, I would put her height at 5’6, as statistics show the average female height to be 5’4. Part II , headcanons

The clench of your bag in your hand, as your other hand fought to reach the handgrip. The reach just escaping your grasp, the tips of your fingers brushed against pull. The sea of bodies that pressed against your form, jostling you to and fro despite the reach of your fingers. The cram of suits, the buttons threatening to break skin as it scraped across your cheek. Early morning commuters, businessmen and women alike operating on late hours, and caffeine. Dedicated to daily survival, murmured of yawns, dreary in their stark existence. Old men that sighed into newspapers, flipped through pages and drew exhaustion upon weary bones. Their fatigue met only by the civil servants that mentally prepared themselves for the hour to come. Laborers corralled next to office workers, college students shuffled between members of the workface, their discussions of lectures hollow against the weight of data, and meetings. Ironic in the experience against the new to the world; the rare high school student such as yourself lost amongst the crowd. Victims to the push and pull of the fluctuation of passengers, your low status upon the totem pole revealed by the flutter of your school uniform as you fought against the sea of bodies, the grit of your teeth before managing your weight to the tip of your toes, the thread of your fingers secured at the caught of the metal in your palm. The rattle of the train, the murmurs of the morning as you allowed the breath to release from your lungs Struggled to multitask holding your belongings, the train rail, and push your glasses up the bridge of your nose. The murmuring of giggling girls drawing your attention out of sincere curiosity. The press of the back of hand from one to another, snickers that fell pass distinct neckties, and khaki blazers. Pressed uniforms, meticulously maintained as their fingernails, hair styled and fashioned as their sneers fell upon glossed lips. Fresh faces that fell upon haughty glares upon a girl seated amongst the crowd. Having secured a rare seating opportunity though the lecturers glances of the older men that lamented near the seats hinted that the opportunity had not afforded itself. Yet, the group of onlookers merely whispered ideal gossips, painted a portrait of a whore amongst faculty members. Murmured poisonous accusations, and delved details shameless of their surroundings. The clench of your jaw, fumbling upon the bag in your hand as your eyes caught upon the victim of their scandalous discussion.

Moonlight kissed hair that drew the breath from your lungs, threatened to smother you with its vision. The high of her ponytail reminiscent of the beauty of oirans of the past, intentionally placed hair pins that met the curls that formed at her hips. Thick locks that captivated every curve, danced upon ever trace of her silhouette. Shuddered the chill of winter down your spine. The reveal of her breast, openly exposed, the buttons of her white uniform blouse intentionally left undone, snug against the cup of her form, the peak of—lace? W-why? S-she was clearly a high school student, was she not? Ah, n-no maybe it’s a costume. The small shift of her hips reflected the sheer material of her thigh highs as she rolled her pelvis into the seat. The adjustment having drawn a small scrap of fabric, a skirt, and its pattern that drew the heat of your cheeks in one swift strike. As though you had been slapped with the reality of its familiarity—n-nope. Not a costume, the telling pattern back and red plaid patterns, the thin strip of black that drew at the pleating of the skirts. Her brown loafers school issued as the very ones you wore. Though your uniform had never… left such a lasting impression as the one she adorned. The fairness of her skin that the peeks of her uniform provided despite the chilly weather February provided was delicate as though she was a portrait painted by Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto. The celestial god the only one capable of providing such beauty upon the earth, the draw of her breast and the distinct hiss that rumbled at the base of her throat. The meticulously draw of kitten eyeliner dipped into shades of crimson rouge, and the press of her lips into a disapproving scowl. Lush, summer grass that threatened the very existence of winter’s chill upon your spine. Rattled your bones with the press of her painted lips together as her eyebrows met a furrow.

“What, are you look at?”

Her beauty unescapable, deadly as delicate. Caught amongst her glare, the point of her sharp eyes, becoming aware of the ends of her Chrysoberyl hair that appeared as though it had captivated her hiss, and robbed you of your own voice. The small shiver that met at your shoulders as you dumbly found yourself drawing your finger to your face, “M-me?” The horrific realization that you had been caught ogling her, only amplified by the chuckles of the girls that had drawn you into this situation. The sharp tint of her eyelashes, long and lush as they captivated your own. Willing your glasses at the tip of your nose to shield you from her edged lour. The flare of her breast, i-it was not your fault that you gaze had drifted as you forced your hand from the pull, tucking your finger tips to fumble with your eyewear. Struggled to choke down the lump that formed in your throat, aware of her flaring temper as she pulled herself to her feet. Abandoning her seat, and ignoring the appealing way that older men traced her steps. The shameful realization that, perhaps she was accustomed to men leering at her, and found your wandering gaze a peculiarity. Though you had not the opportunity to rationalize why she had fault with yours, nor how horrified that you were on pare with perverted old man. Fumbled with your glasses, tucked awkwardly at the strands of your hair that fell to your ears, as you attempted to find any way out of this. The draw of her pointed glare down upon you, standing a few inches taller than yourself. The hint of osmanthus followed a spice you could not name tantalized your senses, the sputtering realization of how hard her perfume had hit you left you choking on your lips.

The ding of the station, hitched upon the knot of the track. The rock of bodies, pressed every which way, the shutter of the girl before you rocked backwards, pinioned against you as you struggled to find your footing. The slam of your hand into the window pain at her head. The bend of her knees, and the shocked quiver of her pupils. Rattled at the pinion of her body pressed beneath your own lsot amongst the shuffle of passengers. All of the shoujo-ai you had read in your lives could not have prepared you for this moment. K-Kabedon?! The internal screaming upon your heart, shattered your brain. Short circuited all thought presses, blissfully unaware of the growing wrath that seethed beneath you alongside the ding of the train doors. Foreboding, and impending the girl before you descent to the platform. The rattle of her skirt hiked up, the rack of your form pressed into her. Old men that chuckled as they rushed to their offices; college students that lingered far longer than you’d prefer. Prayed that none of the snickers, utilized cellphone cameras, nor instilled this moment for later purposes. The rattle of your heart, the spread of her hair beneath you despite the obvious seething wrath that immolated across her doll like features. The green strands of her hair that coiled beneath her, the scathing glower that caught amongst your own. The scream of fury that threatened the cull of her throat, quivered her bones as the veins began to pop in her forehead, only furthered by your insufferable, incoherent apologies. Fumbled over your belongings. Snagged your bag, shoved your glasses up the bridge of your nose, and retreated.

If there was a god, he was laughing. Delighting in your misery. Savoring the anguish, ignored the prayers you uttered in horrified internal screaming, begging him to allow the earth to swallow you whole as your teacher stood before you. Ignorant to your obvious apparel, all bartering from your swearing off meat to joining a nunnery intentionally ignored for sheer folly. No, no god must be a woman, it was the only explanation to the sight before you. Aoki-sensei’s clueless smile, eyes shut, and proud of his own suggestion. Tutoring, assisting another student’s preparation for college exams, and the very subject before you. D-daki, he had said with such delight upon introducing her. Absolutely blind to the turbulent forces that circled around him. The coil of a viper posed and agitated. Her green eyes flaring the grit of her teeth. The small slip of her canines against pursed rouged lips. Her freshly manicured nails rapped against the desk before digging into the wood grain. Twitching eyebrows, wrinkled nose, as the green mamba hissed, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

No, no it appears not.

Who says that the gods do not have a sense of humor?

It had been a few weeks of—could you really call this studying? Any attempt to navigate course material fell on deaf ears. Was muddled by the click of her nails against the desk, the pop of bubblegum, or the occasional flip of a fashion magazine. The evidence of her bubbling rage at each pointed glare she shot you when you attempted to stutter for her attention. The break of your voice, a higher pitch due to your duress than you’d like to admit, and yet despite the notable hostility, she had continued to attend the— “study” sessions. Her irritability having reached an all time high today as her bubblegum popped, the twitch of her lip-enhancer glossed lips quipped with the wrinkle of her nose. The vein in her head practically throbbing with each nervous fumble you could conjure. The chalk practically shaking in your hand as you attempted to demonstrate the proper algebraic equation. The searing lesions her vision threatened to brand into your back as the chalk nervously rattled against the chalkboard. An incomprehensible tapped scribble as you forced an awkward smile, attempting to find your voice. The cup of your hair cut off at your ears and utilizing the opportunity to press up your glasses in an attempt to avoid her eye. Each movement betraying your nervousness had only tempted her ire. The dodged glances when Daki sought your gaze, frail voice that lacked any resolve. She had even witnessed your knees clatter against one another, the height of her panty hose unable to shield the obvious state of tremors that rolled up your spine every time she watched your back diligently scribble incomprehensible. A flush guaranteed to kidnap your fatures, and your gaze from her own when the taller girl successfully met your gaze—what fucking help were you supposed to be to her?

You couldn’t even help your fucking self.

The knot of a mocked sticker—an immature attempt at humor from one of your female classmates that had escaped your notice. Successfully implemented when she had patted you on the shoulder before your tutoring session had begun, the smug grin and how boldly the little bitch had met Daki’s eyes had been enough to piss her off, but met face to face with the rainbow flag and homophobic slur stickered to your collar had her boiling. The grip of her magazine crumbled between clenched fists; she had attempted to remove it. She had, but ever action had a reaction. Her close proximity regardless of how perfectly timed, or well intended, resulted in you trembling and babbling. It only pissed her off more. How were YOU supposed to help her? With your little insult sticker, and inability to even make eye contact—fuck how pathetic must she be to seek your HELP? The thought had dropped her brows to the point that they dipped at her enhanced eyelashes, threatened to simmer over as though she were a neglected pot. She could feel her temper boil, and her teeth scrapping against one another before she allowed it to steer her.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Daki seethed, slamming her hands to her desk, forcing her chair back in a rattling screech of her chair across the floor. Tremored your bones and drew your attention to her in shock worthy of some B horror film. The click of her school issue indoor shoes clapped harder and harder with each step forward, as you attempted to position the podium between the two of you. “Are you screwing with me? Pisses me off seeing you worm around like this?”

Manicured nails caught the collar of your school uniform, her height foreboding against your own as she leaned forward. Daring your averted eyes to catch her own, pressing her gaze against you as the vein in her forehead threatened to burst the longer, she glowered at you. The clench of her canine teeth against one another before shoving you from her sight. Exasperated pursed rogued lips that grunted dissatisfaction with your response, “Whatever, I don’t need this.” Daki’s absence in the classroom marked only by the quite of an abandoned lecture, the most peculiar sticker discarded in the trash on her way out, and the sinking pit in your stomach that something, something was wrong.

#demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #daki x reader #demon slayer daki x reader #kny daki x fem!reader #kny x reader #🍡tsuyospeaks

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rickie-the-storyteller · 5 months

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Writing Share Tag

Thank you to @kaylinalexanderbooks for tagging me!

Rules: Post some writing.

Recently added more to the childhood flashback in Untitled Teen Romcom. I'll post what I've got here:

Miss Jackson found me by the coat pegs, which only added to my embarrassment…but it turned out alright in the end. Here’s how it went down. So, after what felt like an eternity of uncontrollable sobbing, I heard her approaching footsteps. I tried to compose myself, wiping the tears and snot from my face with my sleeve. But it was too late.

“Ezekiel? What's the matter?” she asked, her warm voice laced with concern as she crouched down beside me.

I just shook my head, too embarrassed to speak. Miss Jackson pulled me into a gentle hug, letting me cry into her shoulder for a few moments before pulling back.

“Did something happen during lunchtime?” she prodded gently.

I nodded, the humiliation washing over me again. “I...I asked Hope Kamani to marry me,” I choked out between sniffles. “I just wanted to tell her that I liked her. But she just laughed at me in front of everyone! They all laughed!”

Miss Jackson's eyes widened briefly before her expression softened. “Oh Ezekiel, I'm so sorry that happened to you. She shouldn't have reacted that way, but I promise it will get better.”

“No it won't!” I cried petulantly. “She hates me! She probably thinks I'm a stupid baby.”

“You are not stupid or a baby,” Miss Jackson said firmly. “You are one of the brightest, kindest boys I know. And if others like Hope can't see that, then that's their loss.”

Hearing this made me smile. I don’t know if her words fully convinced me, but they did touch my heart. I guess I just appreciated her trying to make me feel better. To this day, this comment from Miss Jackson stuck with me for this specific reason. I think people just like knowing that they are cared for and that they aren’t alone.

After lunch was done, and everyone in our class started to head back inside, Sebastian caught up with me.

"Zeke!” he called, rushing towards me. I noticed that his usual smile was replaced with a look of genuine concern.

I tried to smile back, although it probably wasn’t all that convincing (my eyes were still filling up with fresh tears, after all). “Hey, Seb.”

“There you are, mate. Are you okay?”

I shook my head dismally. Seb sighed, and put his arm around my shoulders as we headed away from my little hiding place at the coat pegs. Once settled on the reading rug, he grabbed a bucket of LEGOs, pouring a ton of the colourful plastic bricks on the floor in front of us.

“Don't worry about Hope, Zeke,” he said definitively. “We're gonna spend the rest of the day building the sickest spaceships and you’re going to forget all about her!”

I snorted. “Who needs a wife when you have a LEGO spaceship?”

“Exactly! You get it.”

As we started constructing our LEGO creations, I slowly felt the sting of rejection and embarrassment start to dull. With Miss Jackson's reassurance and my best friend by my side, the afternoon didn't seem quite so bleak anymore. Maybe one day the whole fiasco would be something we could laugh about - but for now, I was content just trying to lose myself in the uncomplicated joys of childhood alongside Sebastian. Women would forever remain a mystery, but at least I had my LEGOs. And Seb.

I tried my best to push Hope and her hurtful laughter from my mind, and focus on my building. It worked for a while, but then we got interrupted by Eshe.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, rushing over to us. “I've been looking everywhere for you two.”

Sebastian barely looked up from the impressive spaceship he was constructing. “We're right here, Eshe. As you can see.”

She rolled her eyes at his nonchalance. “Well duh, I can see that now. But I didn't know where you both ran off to after...you know.” Her eyes flickered over to me hesitantly.

My cheeks burned at the reminder of my humiliation. But then another awful thought slipped into my mind… I suddenly remembered with a sinking feeling that Eshe was one of Hope's closest friends. Of course, she was going to take her side and not mine. Of course!

“What do you want, Eshe?” I asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

She seemed to sense my hostility and raised her hands defensively. “Easy, tiger. I come in peace.” She plopped down gracefully beside us, sweeping her pigtails over her shoulder. I had to admit, despite her annoying bossy attitude, Eshe always looked impeccably put together thanks to her tireless efforts at reinventing her appearance. Today's ensemble featured our school’s summer uniform (a green and white chequered dress for the girls, if I recall correctly), a grey cardigan, pigtails adorned with bright pink bows, and her favourite shiny black mary janes. Classic Eshe.

“Look,” she began, turning her big brown eyes on me earnestly. “I just wanted to say I'm really sorry about what happened at lunch. With Hope, I mean.”

I shrugged one shoulder sulkily, keeping my eyes trained on the LEGO tower I was half-heartedly assembling (since I’m pretty sure I had given up on building a spaceship at this point. I wasn’t as good with LEGO as Seb was back then).

“Hope totally overreacted,” Eshe continued. “I prepped her all morning like you asked, making sure her hair looked perfect and everything.”

“I never asked you to do that, Eshe,” I said, still refusing to look in her general direction. “Your job was to distract her so she didn’t find out about it. That’s all.”

“Whatever, Zeke. You have to understand, though, she's just...not great with feelings and emotional stuff,” she explained. “She handles it badly sometimes.”

“That's no excuse to be so mean!” I burst out, finally meeting Eshe's gaze fiercely. “What's so funny about what I said to her? Why did she have to laugh at me like that?”

Eshe patted my arm consolingly. “You're absolutely right, it wasn't funny at all. Hope was way out of line. I already told her off about it, and she does feel bad now. Give her a chance to apologise later, yeah?”

I highly doubted the great Hope Kamani would lower herself to apologise to a loser like me. I opened my mouth to say as much, but Sebastian cut me off.

“Just leave it, Eshe. Thanks for the apology, but Zeke doesn't need any more Hope crap today.”

He shot her a rare scathing look. I couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude toward my best friend for sticking up for me against one of Hope's formidable girl squad.

Eshe looked mildly taken aback by Sebastian's uncharacteristic sharpness, but recovered quickly with a resigned shrug. "Suit yourselves, I guess. I'll let Hope know you both need space."

With that, she rose gracefully and flounced off to the other side of the room, where the costume cupboard was (where Hope and her other friends always liked playing together. Eshe’s favourite costume there was the yellow Beauty and the Beast dress… she was a huge Belle fan growing up). It’s, leaving an awkward silence in her wake. Seb was the first to break it.

“Can you believe that one?” he muttered, shaking his head. “She acts like Hope's the queen and we should all be grateful for her laying down the law.”

I snorted derisively. “I know, right? That whole crew has gotten way too big for their boots if you ask me.”

Hope had an extensive entourage. Here was her inner circle during primary school:

Eshe Brown (duh)

Tanaka Okada - effortlessly cool Japanese girl who always looks like she'd just stepped out of a photo shoot (she doesn't go to our secondary school, but she and Hope are still friends and they hang out to this day. So I've seen her around, and she's also active on social media. And let me tell you - she hasn't changed a bit. Make of that what you will)

Layla Abbas - wealthy Lebanese chick whose family owned this online store where you could get these really nice, spacious backpacks (other stuff, too, but I mainly go there for the backpacks. Unlike Tanaka, Layla moved to the same secondary school as us, so I see her much more often. She too has a really trendy and really pricy taste in fashion, often rocking the latest designer clothes)

Indy Sandhu - probably the most uniquely stylish of the bunch with her edgy mix of vintage and modern looks (Jacob also had a huge crush on her in Year 4. Which I totally get! She's cool. I think I like her style most. She too is in our secondary school)

They all seemed to revolve around Hope, gobbling up her undivided attention and approval like it was oxygen. It was baffling to me how a group of girls who were all so cool and stylish in their own right seemed to defer to Hope as the shining example to emulate. Not that I could pretend to understand the mind of a female at this point. Most of the boys in our class steered well clear of that crew, content to steer clear of the dramas and complexities of the girl world. Let them do their thing, while we did ours. As long as Hope's clique kept their silliness contained, we were more than happy to leave them to it. Still, I couldn't resist a derisive snort as I pictured the five of them strutting around the playground, heads held high, strutting like they were on a catwalk. The unwavering confidence, the addiction to attention and obsession with their appearances, the mind-boggling ability to make even 5-year-old boys feel small and inadequate – it was all so bewildering and, frankly, exhausting. I couldn’t stand any of them.

“I don't get what the big deal is about that whole group,” I groused to Sebastian. “They just seem like a bunch of meanies to me.”

Seb considered this for a moment before responding. “I mean, you're not wrong, mate. But you also can't deny that Hope and her girl squad have, like...I dunno...an inexplicable cool factor going on.”

I pulled a face, not enjoying the reminder that even my best friend was somewhat in awe of Hope's powerful effect. He must have noticed my scepticism, because he was quick to continue.

“Don't get me wrong, Hope was way out of line at lunch. And you're probably right that the rest of them are just as bad. But you can't deny there's just something...magnetic about them? Like a group of really attractive baby swans that you can't tear your eyes away from, even though you know they'll probably bite your head off if you get too close to them.”

I rolled my eyes at the bizarre analogy, but I had to grudgingly admit there was a hint of truth to what he was saying. For whatever reason, Hope and her crew just seemed to command a certain gravity that drew others in helplessly, even when they were nasty pieces of work.

As I mulled this over, Miss Jackson reappeared carrying a stack of our favourite books. Sebastian and I exchanged a look, a silent agreement to shake off the matter of Hope and her lackeys for now. We could ponder the mystifying forces of femininity another time. For the rest of the afternoon, I allowed myself to become immersed in the simple worlds within those book pages, surrounded by the easy camaraderie of reading with my best friend and favourite teacher (at the time). If I couldn't quite rid my mind of Hope completely, at least I was able to stuff her into a tiny box and tuck her away in the recesses of my brain for now at least.

Unfortunately, this didn’t last too long. By the time my mum had come to take me home, I was all upset again. I don’t know what it was… Maybe it was because I knew I had to face her again the next day. Maybe it was because it had been a few hours since the rejection had happened, and the realisation of what had happened was starting to sink in. Maybe it was the fact that she got out of this situation all fine and dandy while here I was in complete and utter despair (my gosh, I was so dramatic back then). I mean, she’s still popular and beloved by everyone, while I went from being an awkward but well liked guy in our class to a total laughing stock. All because of her.

I was just silently stewing on all of this during the ride home. My poor mother must have been so worried… I mean, I’m never quiet in the car. Back then, I was rarely quiet period. Like I said before, 5-year-old Zeke did everything loudly. Unless I was mad, apparently.

“Hey, sweetie,” my mum said gently, breaking the silence as she started the car and started the journey home. “How was school today?”

I sighed heavily, unsure of how to respond. Should I tell her about what happened with Hope? Would she even understand, or would she just brush it off as childish drama as she so frequently did with my problems back then?

“It was okay, Mummy,” I muttered finally, opting for a vague answer.

My mum glanced over at me, concern etched into her features. “You seem a bit down, Zeke. Is everything alright?”

“Nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, darling.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Mummy.”

“So something did happen, then.”

Oops.

“No!”

“What’s going on, Zeke?” Mum asked. “Was somebody mean to you?”

I felt like crying again. I didn’t, though - all I said was, “I said that I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Honey, why not? You know you can tell Mummy anything.”

Not even the slightest bit true, not then or even now, but OK, Mum (look, I love my mum a lot, OK? Don’t get me wrong. But there are a vast list of things I would never even think of saying to her that I would say to other people. Parental relationships are different from friendships, and there are things I would share with my friends that I wouldn’t really want to share with family. And vice versa. But maybe that’s just me). I stayed mute for a while, chewing my trembling lip hard enough to draw blood as the cruel memory replayed on a torturous loop in my mind. For a moment, I almost wanted to say something. But at the very last second, I decided against it.

“I just want some peace and quiet right now, Mummy,” I eventually mumbled. “Can we just not talk until we get home?”

“Okay, sweetie,” my mum replied, her tone gentle but concerned. She reached over and squeezed my hand briefly before returning her focus to the road. For the rest of the drive, there was no more sound but the humming of the car as it moved through familiar roads and streets.

All the while, all I did was replay the whole thing in my mind. The sheer mortification of having my heartfelt proposal so utterly rejected by Hope in front of the entire class. Her mocking laughter slicing through me like shards of broken glass. The pain. The shame. The humiliation. All of it was stirring inside me, curdling into rage.

At that moment, with angry tears beginning to sting my eyes again, I decided that if she was going to be mean to me, then I'd be mean right back. See how she likes it. So I did the only thing a hurt 5-year-old kid could think of - I started a nasty rumour about her as payback.

Childish, I know. But in my defence, I was a child.

The next morning, I knew exactly what to do. I woke up with a sense of purpose for the first time in my entire life, probably. I was eager - nay, determined - to show Hope her place… but once I got into class, I could barely look at Hope without feeling that searing humiliation all over again. I tried my best to avoid her at first, sticking close to Sebastian and the other boys during morning drop-off.

“You alright, mate?” Seb asked, no doubt picking up on my sullen mood.

I shook my head mutely, not trusting myself to speak without my voice cracking. The hurt was still so fresh and raw. Which kind of made me mad… why are my stupid feelings getting in the way of my mission?

Jacob, ever the instigator, piped up. “What's wrong, Zeke? Still thinking about yesterday’s adventures with the wicked witch?”

A few of the other boys sniggered at his not-so-subtle nickname for Hope. I managed a small smile, grateful for Jake’s attempt at lightening the mood.

“It’s not fair that she gets to laugh at me and humiliate me like she did yesterday and get away with it,” I grumbled.

“Oh, you know what we should do?” Jacob piped up again. “Prank her! Let’s put a bucket of slime over the door for when she walks in," Jacob continued with a mischievous grin. "That'll teach her!”

We laughed at that one, too. Realistically, though, it wasn’t the best idea. I mean, what if someone else got soaked in the slime instead of her? I didn’t want to risk harming some innocent individual or getting myself in serious trouble. All I want is for Hope to be embarrassed.

“I have a better idea. You know what we’re going to do?”

“What?” Seb asked.

A devilish grin spread across my face. “We're going to spread a rumour that Hope doesn't shower!”

Silence for a second. Then, Jacob burst out laughing at me (damn, Jake. I thought we were friends, man). “Lame!” he cried out (I mean… I guess he wasn’t wrong).

Seb seemed conflicted on the matter. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, mate,” he muttered.

“Sure it is!” I exclaimed. “She'll be stinky and gross and no one will want to play with her! It’s the perfect plan.”

“I mean, what good will that do?” Seb asked. “Hope is just a kid like us. And Eshe said that she felt bad about it, right? Seems kind of mean to me…”

I was having none of that today. “So?! She humiliated me and broke my heart! This is what she deserves.”

Seb sighed. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“Right. I’m glad you agree. So here’s the plan…”

I had mulled over this plan all of last evening. I had every detail down and I was prepared to share it with the boys. Once I was done, Sebastian still looked unsure, but the thought of retaliating against Hope's cruelty quickly won the rest of the bros over. By midday, the “Hope doesn't shower” rumour was spreading like wildfire through our reception class, thanks to me and the boys. Everything worked out perfectly.

It was perfect… at least, I thought it was. Anytime she walked by, I could hear the hushed giggles and whispers.

“Ew, you smell that?”

“It's probably just Hope again.”

“Gross! She seriously needs to start using soap…”

At first, I felt a rush of vindictive satisfaction watching her beloved popularity get torn down. This was the retribution she deserved after publicly humiliating me the way she did.

But then I started to feel...weird about it. Like, a part of me felt kind of bad. Which was ridiculous - she had this coming, right? She broke my heart into a million pieces and laughed in my face. So why was I feeling even an ounce of regret about giving her a taste of her own medicine?

I tried to shake it off as I spotted Hope across the room, wearing a confused frown as a group of girls not-so-subtly pinched their noses and turned away from her. Instead of laughing at her misfortune like I thought I would, my stomach twisted uncomfortably.

This is what you wanted, isn't it Zeke? I scolded myself sternly. Don't go feeling sorry for the mean girl now!

But the guilt persisted, gnawing away at me. Until finally, I overheard an interaction that instantly made me feel better about the whole thing:

“Ugh, did someone like… not shower this morning?” Layla Abbas' imperious voice rang out loud and clear.

Hope's eyes widened in distress. “What?! No, I definitely showered, I’m super hygienic!”

“Are you sure?” Tanaka chimed in with a look of poorly concealed disgust. “Because no offence, but you kind of stink.”

“I don't stink! I shower every night before bed,” Hope insisted, her bottom lip trembling as a flush crept up her cheeks. “I even put on Mummy’s perfume and everything!"

The other girls all shared looks and shrugged, clearly not believing her protestations of cleanliness. With that, they got up and flounced off, leaving Hope behind looking utterly bewildered and embarrassed.

I couldn't help it - I let out a huge bark of laughter at the sight. Okay, this was definitely what she deserved! Any lingering feelings of regret instantly dissipated. Say what you want about Hope’s girl squad, but they have the most fire insults.

Take that, Hope! I thought triumphantly. See how it feels to be the one getting laughed at for once?

Of course, my loud laughter drew her attention immediately. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as they landed on me.

“EZEKIEL COLEMAN!” She marched right over, her little hands planted firmly on her hips. “Did you have something to do with this?”

I blinked innocently up at her. “With what?”

"Don't play dumb!" She snapped. “This is your doing, isn’t it? You're the one behind this stupid rumour about me not showering!”

I smirked, not even bothering to deny it at this point. “So what if I am? You had it coming after yesterday.”

Her eyes widened, seemingly stunned that I was admitting to it so brazenly. “I...I can't believe you!” She sputtered. “That's so mean!”

“Oh, you mean like how you laughed at and humiliated me in front of everyone yesterday?” I countered, getting to my feet so I could look her square in the eye. “What you did to me was way meaner!”

“Th-That's different!” Hope protested, though the words lacked conviction. I think she could see the holes in her logic.

“Whatever, Kamani,” I said with an eyeroll, turning away from her dismissively. “Deal with it. It's just a stupid rumour anyway.”

“You’re seriously doing this because you’re mad that I laughed at your stupid proposal?!”

“It wasn’t stupid, Hope,” I replied, voice cracking a bit despite my best efforts to sound all put together (Kamani had that effect on me back then. I’ve mostly grown out of that too, thank God). “I put a lot of thought and time into it, just to be laughed at and humiliated by you and everyone else in the class.”

“I thought you were messing around!” Hope protested. “I seriously thought you were trying to be like one of those bachelor guys on TV, acting all mushy and all. I thought you were playing, I didn’t think you were being for real!”

At that point, I was like, no way! You know about the bachelor shows on the telly too?! Maybe she watches with her mum as well. That’s something we have in common!

Just to be clear, I was thinking that... I didn't say any of that out loud.

But thinking about it now, it’s all so interesting to me how much I didn’t see back then that I do now. She laughed at me because she thought I was kidding. Huh. Assuming that this is all true, maybe Eshe was right about Hope genuinely feeling bad and not being good at handling emotional stuff… Either way, I had found a connection. Something to bridge the gap. I almost began to feel bad again. Almost.

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now,” I simply said.

“Really?! That’s it?”

I shrugged. What did she want me to do? Apologise? I’m not THAT sorry. Plus, she didn’t apologise to me, so…

I could practically feel the waves of anger radiating off her. Her next words were practically a snarl: “You're going to be sorry for this, Ezekiel. I’m telling on you.”

With that, she stomped off in the direction of our teacher's desk, looking every bit the disgruntled five-year-old she was at that moment. I just laughed again, feeling utterly free of the guilt and conflict that had plagued me earlier. As far as I was concerned, Hope Kamani absolutely deserved everything she was getting. I didn't care if it made me look like the bad guy… she started it.

END OF EXCERPT.

This is even longer than the last one... sorry if that's annoying lol. I just really like the flashbacks. I like writing these characters as young children. It's cool to see how much they've grown in the present tense (as well as how much they haven't really changed at all lol).

Tagging: @ibuprofen-exe, @jay-avian, @mysticstarlightduck, @jay-avian, @winterandwords,

@space-writes, @bookish-karina, @clairelsonao3, @theeccentricraven and @sam-glade

#rickie-the-storyteller #writerblr #writing #writing share tag

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silvermoon-scrolls · 8 months

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Catsitting

Prompt: "Catsitting for Dawn" for Britchell Contribution Fest 2024 Pairing: Anders Johnson/John Mitchell Rating: Teen Content warning: Mention of blood Words: 800

Read on AO3

“Ow! She bit me! The little shit bit me!” Anders shook his offended finger before wrapping his other hand around it and glared at the fluffy, gray-speckled kitten in his lap. She meowed. In a very non-apologetic way, Anders thought.

“If you don’t want to get bitten, you should stop trying to tickle her belly,” Mitchell called from the kitchen area.

They had offered to watch Dawn’s newly adopted kitten while Dawn was running some quick errands. Well, Mitchell had offered – ecstatically – but it was Anders’ lap that the furball had somehow taken a permanent residence in.

He gave the cat one last offended glare before uncurling his hand and inspecting his finger. A tiny bead of blood appeared. Really, it was nothing, but the sight of the blood still made Anders feel queasy and he grimaced in distaste. You would think that having a vampire for a partner would have cured him of his squeamishness for blood, but no.

Mitchell appeared by his side. “We need to clean that.”

“With alcohol?” Anders asked, casting an optimistic glance at the liquor cabinet.

Mitchell gave him an amused smile. “Water and soap is enough.” He sat down on the couch next to Anders and placed a box of bandaids and a small bowl of water on the coffee table.

“Pity.”

As Mitchell took Anders’ hand in his and used a wetted cloth to clean the small bite, Dusk – the kitten – began to once again meow for attention. When she didn’t get it she instead found a worthy adversary in Anders' tie, repeatedly swiping at it with her little paws and almost falling out of Anders’ lap in an attempt to jump tackle it. Anders used his good hand to keep her from tumbling over but he made sure to keep his fingers away from her sharp, pointy bits.

Having finished his more than thorough cleaning, Mitchell reluctantly let go of the hand. The bleeding had stopped, but he could still smell the fresh blood. It called to him. The pulsating sound of Anders’ heartbeat resonated inside him.

He pushed back the urge. “There, all done. But you need to watch out for any signs of infection. When did you last have a tetanus shot?” He busied himself with fumbling out a bandaid from the packaging.

The vampire’s dilated pupils hadn’t gone unnoticed by Anders. He smiled sinfully. Too bad about Mitchell’s impressive restraint. After all, there should be plenty of time for a little fun before Dawn came back, he thought – his squeamishness for blood all but forgotten in the face of a quick tumble on the couch. But his mother-hen of a partner had instead elected to give all his focus to wrapping up the finger with a perfectly placed bandaid. “How did you become such an expert on wound care,” Anders commented with a teasingly raised eyebrow, but with a smile that hopefully conveyed that it wasn’t entirely unpleasant to be looked after – no matter the size of the injury.

Mitchell returned an appreciative smile. “I suppose when you've worked in a hospital for a while you're bound to pick up on a thing or two.”

“Right. I forgot. Lucky me – a sexy vampire, and a hot nurse – in one handy package.” Anders’ smile widened into a grin and he leaned in to steal a kiss from the object of his fantasies. But before he reached his goal he abruptly cried out in alarm when several cat claws pricked his skin in rapid succession.

Apparently tired of being ignored, Dusk was climbing up his shirtfront. Anders cursed as he tried but failed to get a hold of the little monster. Despite her claws catching on the fabric and his skin alike, her agile, little form kept slipping through his fingers as soon as he got her loose, and soon she had managed to get herself all the way up to perch atop his shoulder, sounding mighty proud of herself.

Anders glared at Mitchell who was making no attempts to hide his laughter. Ignoring him, Anders made a new attempt to grab hold of the persistent kitten – without getting his skin shredded. But before he could get a good grip the little cat had folded her legs under her and nuzzled her forehead into the crook of Anders’ neck. Her purring stopped Anders in his tracks.

Anders’ shocked expression made Mitchell laugh all the harder. Calming himself down, he wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye. “I should watch out. Looks like I got competition for your affections,” he commented happily.With a sigh, Anders resigned to pet the contented furball where she was. “You should worry,” he said, giving Mitchell a smug grin. “At least when she bites me it is a little easier to explain the bitemarks.”

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated ❤️

#britchellcontributionfest2024 #fanfic #the almighty johnsons #being human uk #anders johnson/john mitchell #britchell #mitchers #anders johnson #john mitchell #silvermoon writes

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aaeds · 9 months

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I've had it with HS^2

I don't make fanart or content for this fandom anymore, but after putting on "Let's Read Homestuck" in the background while I've been working I've returned to having a few Alpha kid WIPs. I have also returned to scouring the tags for cool fanart and opinions.

This is not the fandom I remember back when I was reading the comic partway through Act 2.

I cannot say I'm inspired by Homestuck^2, and to roughly quote another user - I don't know who the audience for this comic is for. The epilogues themselves were a disaster and the Candy/Meat timeline idea appears to exist to create even more drama with lackluster stakes.

There's no real clear 'goal' or core to the story besides...the fact there are two universes. And we have Ultimate-self villains.

It reads like bad fanfiction, that's nothing new - the problem is I don't think the authors are writing with irony. The series has turned into a ship-heavy metal bat beating older fans to death with teen drama and character assassination.

The current team clearly has no interest or plans for Jade for example, and in the recent update with Aradia and Robo-Dave discussing time travel - it really seemed like her body being on the floor was an excellent time to rehash several existential conversation points we ALREADY had in the original Homestuck about stable timeloops, dead Daves and how he uses his Godtier powers.

Outside of several unnecessary pages of dialogue, it was disturbing that no part of Ultimate Dave would help move Jade off the fucking floor while he and Aradia sleep in lawn chairs watching her until she became 'The Muse' It is so out of character. Pre-retcon Dave died protecting her body, Davesprite destroyed his relationship with both John and Jade knowing they would be reunited with the 'real' Dave. He was a true knight when he felt it was appropriate and mattered. But now we have a Dave who is back to having an existential crisis about his powers, life and death - and his sexuality. By bringing up dead Dave's Marriage from the epilogues. He didn't even mention Jade by name, presuming the reader read at least the wiki article on the disastrous self indulgent mess.

But that was all he had to say on that dead Dave. Just about not loving Jade. No one else, doesn't even bring up Karkat or Terezi, let alone any of his friends. Talking about Sollux for half a second I'm convinced was just to bring up a failed marriage and apparently 'not wanting to be gay'? This isn't Dave anymore, and if that's the point I want to know why we as readers should care because I promise you coming fresh off Act 6 for the third time these are not the same characters. Davepeta had a better outlook on what it means to experience doomed selves, whether they were chipper about it because of Nepeta's influence is neither here nor there. No matter what Davesprite did, it was in character for what Dave would have done because he knows himself. When it meant self sabotage so his friends could go back to the Alpha timeline Dave, that was a circumstance, and an act any Dave would have made because of the way he thought at 13 years old. That doesn't mean he didn't change, or would never change.

I don't think the furthest ring has rattled the kids in a glass jar hard enough to give them critical brain damage through every doomed timeline that they're different people. At least not in the way Robo-Dave is, or frankly anything in the Epilogue.

I'm done with the writers treating Jade as a dead animal to stuff Calliope into for a milquetoast attempt at a plot device without treating that as a joke in itself.

No Homestuck isn't a serious comic, but there's a reason Cascade broke several websites while Beyond Canon can barely drudge a handful of tagged UPD8 replies. Its audience is small and unchallenged. We don't need to bring back the use of the hard R to be invested in a storyline, but if all you're interested in in a piece of media is gender identity and sexuality well you've got it. That said, neither are a genre on their own.

HS^2 lacks one and direction and it's just going to keep dragging its carcass through the dirt until every unseen pairing in panel is churned through the fanfic machine.

#homestuck #rant #DNI to argue or debate #This is my opinion and it won't change to look at it through deranged twitter specs.#Where the hell is this story even going anymore are we going to scratch the retcon? Merge everything? If Dirk is the true villain #Why does it feel like doesn't matter or that there's no character progression #It's a fanon fanfic come to life and I thought it would get better but this is it.#The unparalleled amount of Davekat at the expense Jade as some kind of foil has me howling.

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rebuke-me · 2 months

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Chloe for the ask meme!!

How I feel about this character:

look. okay. my chloe thoughts are so nuanced. she's flawed. she's catty. she's a teenage girl. she was written by a man who doesn't understand nuances of character. she's a bitch and a flirt and i don't think she's a good person but judging her on that metric is so bad. tldr. id hate to be around her irl but as a character shes so. god.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

uhh not many? madeline and christine. mostly. madeline's the only like "serious" ship i have for her but i love chlostine's dynamic and my friends content for them is so growing on me.

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

therapy. kidding i also like her and christine platonically bc i think they could be rlly interesting if they weren't "fighting" over a guy yk.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

god where do i start. i have a lot of thoughts about chloe valentine. i'll go simple and say that. i don't think she's one of the squad that would stay in contact post high school. her and jenna both seem like they just need to Not Be With That Group. i think she goes to college and meets new people and has a fresh start, subtracted from the mess of the squip squad. her healing is not contingent on being friends with the other teens.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

dear fucking lord please let dywh have some goddamn conversations after it happened. let her have an actual character arc. give her some pushback post play about being a bit of a bitch because it's not cool to insult people. like. just have her written by not a 30+ year old white man. but i'll step off my feminism soap box for a bit.

my OTP:

her and madeline. easy. i think they'd be messy and suck and would make each other worse /pos

my cross over ship:

ooh i haven't thought of this,,, who can match chloe valentine's energy. who can call her out on her bullshit. not necessarily ship but i think her and cairo from we are the tigers would either make out or hate each other or both.

a headcanon fact:

OOOH she wears gold jewelry. easy one but she's SUCH a gold girl.

#thank u dewey #bmc #be more chill #chloe valentine

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mmkin · 8 months

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A Most Willing Queen (Hades x Persephone)

Well, here it is for my fellow Hades and Persephone fans/enjoyers - the first chapter of the story! It's posted on my AO3 here but there is also a cut under the lovely GIF of Hades.

Content/trigger warnings - Teen safe (some flirting) Mentions of bullying.

A Most Willing Queen

I've loved mythology since I was a kid, and the myth of Hades and Persephone has been one of my favorites since I was introduced to the wonderful world of myths. I also enjoy the retellings of myths and fairy tales, I was a kid when Disney's Hercules came out and I loved it, even though the movie diverged from the myths in some wacky (but fun) ways. Recently, I watched the cartoon that was made from the movie and really enjoyed myself and then watched the movie again. Ahh, nostalgia ahoy.

So I decided to do a Hades and Persephone story, using the world/characters from Disney because well, this version of Hades is a heckin lot of fun. Persephone appears in the movie near the end when the gods are gathered around Hercules in gratitude. She’s the one with blonde hair and pale purple skin, and a headpiece/headdress thing that looks like a flower.

I like classical/historical retellings of mythology and fairy tales but I also enjoy fun and light-hearted retellings, whether set in the modern day or just using modern language and anachronisms (like this version of Hercules)

In classic mythology, Hades is the oldest brother, but in Disney's Hercules, he's the youngest, so I am using that. The time frame for this is a bit ambiguous as it spans years, but it begins not too long before Hercules is born.

So here we go, and I hope you enjoy this! All feedback is welcome. This was quite a challenge for me to write because historical fiction is one of my favorite genres and I had to keep reminding myself that anachronisms were perfectly ok – and needed – here. I’ve never written anything like that before, so I tried my best to capture some of the humor one could find in the show or movie, especially with Hades.

Brief historical note – the aulos is a two-piped flute. It can be seen in classical Greek art and I wanted something other than a basic flute or Pan pipe.

o0o0o0o

Mother did not like bringing her up to Olympus too often. Persephone wasn't sure if she should be glad for that or not. She was the daughter of a mighty goddess, one of the Dodekatheon, and her mother was also one of the children of Cronus himself. Pretty high up there in the hierarchy and yes, Zeus defeated Cronus and the Titans, but he hadn't done it entirely on his own. And as her mother would point out, lightning bolts don't feed mortals. And one of the fastest ways to become happy is with a full belly, which Persephone couldn't argue with. God and mortal alike enjoyed a good meal and going to bed with a full belly. Even if the gods didn't need food, the banquet tables of Mount Olympus were piled high when there was a party.

Since she was born, the importance of the cycles of Nature was ingrained into her. Mortals died, plants died, but that was part of the cycle of life, and it was Demeter’s job to help maintain that balance, and as she got older, some of that responsibility became Persephone’s. For she was also the Goddess of Spring, dancing through the fields and causing the flowers to bloom as Greece warmed from its yearly cooling.

But doing that, and all the other things through the year got tiring. Persephone dreaded the idea of eternity following the same routine. Whenever she expressed boredom, her mother always scolded her, reminding her of how important it was to ensure the plants grew as they should, going through the cycles. Or she would switch up the nymphs that attended her daughter, thinking that fresh faces would help alleviate some of that boredom.

Persephone was always supposed to be bright and cheery because, after all, she was the Goddess of Spring? And who wanted a quiet or gloomy spring, her mother would point out. Persephone could appreciate how important it was to be mindful of Nature and the blessings and rhythms of the earth. And all that jazz.

But sometimes she just didn't feel like doing any of that. She just wanted to enjoy peace and quiet, and not listen to the chatter of the nymphs or her mother's lectures. And she didn't want to wear that stupid flowery headpiece her mother chose for her when she was performing her goddess duties. She got the theme – Demeter's plant theme was pretty in-your-face to anyone who looked at her, but the flower motif was so overdone.

“Can you believe it? Hera’s pregnant again!” Mother laughed, clapping her hands with excitement. Persephone held back a shrug as she sipped some nectar. Even though having a baby was a pretty big part of nature, she’d always thought the process somewhat messy. Nature didn’t just involve plants, after all, even though animals were more Artemis’s domain.

“That's lovely. She and Zeus look so happy," Persephone said politely. She wouldn't begrudge another couple's happiness, even if the party was not as fun as she'd hoped it was. Mother was constantly at her side, giving her little opportunity to have a real conversation with another god. Sometimes another goddess would seek Mother's attention, and Persephone would try to sneak away, but Mother would eventually notice she was gone and go after her. Agggh.

That would change when Artemis approached them. She wasn't sure if Artemis had needed to talk with Mother, or if the Goddess of the Hunt was trying to help out the younger goddess. Maybe because Artemis's mother had been pretty protective until the wild young goddess had proven once and for all how independent she was.

Persephone let out a sigh of relief as she moved among the other gods – some of whom she had not seen in years – and taking in the grand sights of Mount Olympus. It did feel a bit strange up here, being so far away from the earth. She heard snippets of conversation, much of it centered around the upcoming baby, but also of various other things – dealing with worshipers, petty rivalries with other gods, the latest fashions, and the like.

Some of the gods here had been here since the beginning of creation and she felt awed by them. She’d heard the tales of how the Titans had been crushed by Zeus, who set the order of the world right so that mortals could live in peace. And then he’d apportioned lots to himself and his brothers, and those who had helped him in the mighty battle against Cronus and the other Titans.

It was said that Zeus, in his wisdom, granted the lots according to each god’s abilities. And it was something that seemed to have worked. No one could deny that Poseidon or Demeter were not happy – or suited – with the spheres they’d be given headship over. And likewise for many of the other gods.

Except for one. Gloomy as Hades might be, it was an open secret that he was unhappy with his lot. Someone had to take over the Underworld, but no one else wanted such a morbid place when there were delights in heaven and earth to be enjoyed.

She'd only seen him a few times and never exchanged anything more than a few polite words with him. But she felt bad for him after hearing the way the other gods talked about him. Maybe he wasn't as handsome as Apollo, or as friendly as Hermes, or easy-going as Poseidon. But she couldn't imagine that being stuck with a place no one wanted would do favors for anyone's mood.

She blinked as the very deity she was thinking about slunk past her, looking quite pissed off. Probably Zeus had another dig at him. It seemed that the gods rotated through the same few sets of jokes about Hades. About him being so stiff. Or having a fiery temper. And sometimes a bit of wrestling, as many brothers did, but Hades never looked like he was having any fun when Zeus or Poseidon had him in a headlock.

Most other people would have just laughed at Hades behind his back as he sulked off. Persephone stared for a moment before retreating from the party, almost gliding after him.

He stepped outside. Thick wisps of clouds surrounded the pavilion, and Hades muttered to himself as he slid his hand across his hair. She could practically feel the tension radiating from him. Suddenly, he whipped around, scowling at her. Several meters separated them, and she flinched back at his sudden movement. He blinked in surprise and straightened himself.

“Yes?” he asked diffidently, though she could still sense his anxiety and stress.

“I-” She blinked and looked at him. “I just… um.” It sounded so logical in her mind, but when it came time to speak, she found herself unable to express just what she wanted to say. “I’m sorry you had a bad time and… um.”

He raised his eyebrow. “I don’t remember the last time anyone showed any concern about how I was at these parties.” He slid across the ground, wisps of thick gray smoke curling around the hem of his clothes. It was hard to not feel intimidated as he towered over her, but he seemed more interested now instead of angry. So she continued, feeling a little calmer.

“I mean, the jokes and comments people say. Mother says it’s just how things are, but…” She shrugged. “I don’t see them treating one another the way they treat you. They’re jerks.”

There was an almost imperceptible shift in his expression. “That is observant of you, Persephone.” The way he said her name sent a small shiver down her spine, and against the darkening sky, the blue flames that danced around his head were ethereal. He didn’t look so scary like this, with the gentle twilight around him.

“Um, thank you?” she said with a small smile.

“No, no, really. You’re a breath of fresh air, you know that. I mean, aside from being the Goddess of Spring and all that. These parties are a drag and babe, you really made my day.”

Babe? But when he said it like that, it didn’t bother her. Had any other god called her that…

Mother told her about how her flowers brought joy to people. And Persephone knew that. She could see the joy in people’s faces when they saw flower-covered fields, when they plucked flowers and inhaled them, or used them for oils and perfumes, and so on. But it was nice to see that she’d brought happiness to a tired and bitter god with a few kind words.

She blushed and laughed shyly. “So… um, what’s the Underworld like?” she blurted out. He slid closer, wisps of smoke trailing around her feet.

“Eh. Could be more lively. Decor hasn’t been updated in a few thousand years, but who’s there to impress? The dead? They just pile up and I wonder if the place will ever get full. Doesn’t seem like it, but hope springs eternal.”

Despite his morose description of the Underworld, Persephone was still intrigued. She’d lived on earth. She’d seen heaven. Wouldn’t it be interesting to have seen the underworld, too? Before she could ask another question, she heard her mother shout out her name.

“There you are! What are you doing out here?” she demanded, barely noticing Hades.

“Mom! I just needed some fresh air.” Quickly, she glanced at Hades. A little help here, bud?

“It does get loud in there,” Hades said. “One can only see the same faces and hear the same jokes so many times…” He rolled his eyes. Persephone bit back a smile as she met his eyes. “Anyway, I’ve done my duty and made my appearance, so I believe it’s time for me to amscray. Got my duties in the Underworld that Zeus so generously bestowed upon me. Good night, ladies,” With that, he gave mother and daughter a small salute and disappeared into the ether.

“What was that about?” Mother demanded.

“What was what about?” Persephone asked with genuine confusion. She hadn’t done anything she wasn’t supposed to, was she? She’d just chatted a bit with Hades, who… well, actually didn’t seem quite as bad as the other gods thought.

“What did you talk about?”

“What? Mom!” Persephone said with a small huff. “Um, I asked him about the Underworld.” She left out the rest of it, though she did wonder if her mother ever stopped to think about how stupid the whole ‘let’s pick on Hades and call it teasing’ schtick was.

“Why?”

Persephone wanted to roll her eyes at that. “I was just curious about what it was like in a world opposite of ours. Figured who better than to ask than the god who ruled that place, right?”

“Mmm.” Demeter scowled, but quickly settled her face into a pleasant expression. You don’t have to be so protective, Mom! Jeez. Despite her mother's efforts to shelter her, Persephone wasn't ignorant of what mortals did. After all, her mother's work was inevitably tied with fertility even though there were other goddesses that resided over marriage or love. She saw the way that some of the gods looked at her and knew what they wanted.

She was curious about that sort of thing, but she hadn’t come across anyone that she would give serious consideration to. Her mother really needn’t worry about her, but there was no point in telling Mom that...

o0o0o0o

Persephone sneaked away from the nymphs as they danced and played their musical instruments, the cheery notes of lyre and aulos accompanying singing. It was something she often did when she wanted to simply be alone. She’d ask the nymphs to play music and then sneak away during their jam sessions. Yeah, Mom would scold, but without any evidence of wrongdoing, what could Demeter do but think that her daughter was weird?

The shade provided a welcome respite from the sun that had beat down on her head when she was with the nymphs, and she flipped her blond hair over her shoulder. The shade seemed to get thicker the further she went into the woods, and she paused as she looked around. The light at the edge of the woods seemed so far away.

“So what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” she heard someone ask. She yelped and spun around, nearly tripping over a root before she saw Hades, sitting against a tree.

“You should know better than to sneak on people!” she exclaimed softly, quickly straightening herself and brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

“Babe, if it’s any consolation, I wasn’t trying to frighten you. But yes, it’s a habit of mine.”

Yeah. She could see that. “Okay, sure. But what are you doing here?” she asked.

“I’m here to see you.”

She gave out a small, surprised laugh and gestured to herself. “Me?”

“Why not? Things seemed to be going nicely on Olympus with our little meet-and-greet, but your mother barged in. I figure, this time, we could take the chance to relax a little and get to know one another better. Sound good?” He grinned at her.

Some – okay, a lot of – women would have been repulsed by that fanged grin. But there was an odd charm about it. It wouldn’t have looked right on any other god, but it suited him, just like the blue flames and dark smoke did. She stared at him for a few moments, considering the implication of Hades’s interest in her.

The other gods mocked or scorned him. She’d offered him a kind word and like he said, it was like fresh air. It seemed only natural he would seek more. Considering what she knew of him, could she blame him? And she would be lying if she said she wasn’t the least bit curious about him.

“… Yeah. That does sound good.”

He stared at her for a moment as if he could not believe his luck. It was cute how his eyes widened and his lips puckered a bit as if he was trying to decide if she was teasing him or not.

Damn, the other gods really had done a number on him, hadn’t they? Seemed like some therapy was called for, but that was not for the here or now. He blinked and quickly collected himself, running his hand across his head. His flames seemed to burn a little brighter. Now that she thought about it, there was a certain appeal around Hades that was lacking in gods that were considered more conventionally attractive.

He leaned back against the tree. “In that case, have a seat.”

She waved her arm, and one of the roots from the tree flexed up, raising itself high enough for her to be seated comfortably.

When she was seated, she was just outside of his reach, but he could lean over and grab her. She saw the wisps of gray smoke curl around her feet and wondered if perhaps she’d made a mistake. He might be socially awkward, but he didn’t have ill intentions, did he?

She looked up at his face. They stared at one another for a moment before both of them opened their mouths to speak. She gave a small, sheepish laugh and gestured for him to go first.

“So, what are you up to?” he asked casually.

“Not much, really. Just had to sneak away from the nymphs for like, the umpteenth time. How about you?” she asked.

“I decided I needed a break. I mean, I’m the ruler of the Underworld, who’s gonna tell me I can’t take a break.”

“Zeus, perhaps,” she pointed out, seeing a glimmer of a scowl on his face before she continued, “But you can be sure that he won’t hear of it from me.” She flashed him a smile, and he relaxed visibly, chuckling and shaking his head.

“And you won’t tell him if I have a drink, either?”

“Oh no, no. My lips are sealed!” With that, she made the locking gesture on her lips. He grinned and with a wave of his hand and a puff of smoke, a martini glass materialized, with an eyeball in place of the olive. She blinked and looked at it, trying to not look grossed out by the eyeball.

“Oh, how rude of me. Would you like one?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure. Just, without the…” She pointed to the contents of his glass.

He snorted quietly at that, but a drink materialized for her, thankfully sans an eyeball.

“So, it seems that perhaps I’m not the only one who needs to get away sometimes,” Hades commented as he took a sip of his drink.

“Not as much as you do, I think. But yes.” She sighed before she took a sip. “Oh, that’s strong. But good.” It was different from the beers and wines that could be produced from the grain and grapes grown in Demeter’s fields. The flavor was sharp and not what she was used to, but after a few more sips she was used to it. “It’s just… the same thing. Over and over. Year after year.” She was a goddess, and so she didn’t need to be as concerned about the passing of time as mortals. “Planting, growing, harvesting, preserving, the same grind over and over like some rat race and I feel bad about thinking about it like that way because nature is so important and I don’t want to disappoint Mother and-”

“Whoa, whoa. Hey. Take a deep breath. Have your drink,” he coaxed. She took a deep breath. Sometimes she would feel anxious, but then Mother would tell her she had nothing to be anxious about, and that there would be nothing to be anxious about as long as she did her duty. She reached up to run her hand across her hair, thankful she wasn’t wearing one of these flower headpieces. “Someone as young and cute as you shouldn’t be so stressed out, hey?”

“I'm one of the older gods of my generation. I just look young." Fresh-faced spring to her mother's more matronly appearance. She didn't hide the mild annoyance in her voice.

He stared at her for a moment before nodding. "Oh yeah, that's right. You don't come to Olympus very often, and neither do I. But may I say you look fantastic for your age."

“Is that meant to be a pick-up line?” she deadpanned. He grinned at that.

“Is it working?”

“Not really.”

His face fell so quickly at that it was almost comical, and weirdly enough, she felt a little bad for him. He was interested in her, but he was not doing the best job of showing it. Some people were just socially awkward, but she imagined that being picked on constantly didn't help. So she wouldn't be one of these people.

“It’s just that I get so many comments on my looks. How cute I am, how fresh I look, and all that. It’s not very original.” She took another sip of her drink. “Really, if you’re going to try to hit on me, maybe go for something a little more creative?”

He stared at her with his mouth open for a second before he quickly collected himself.

“All right, all right. You know what? That’s fair enough. I get what it’s like to be typecast, so…” He squared his shoulders as he looked down at her, and she could tell that he was putting serious thought into it. That was more flattering than she wanted to admit. “How about this? If you were a taser, you’d be set to stun?”

It was her turn to stare at him with her mouth hanging open for a second. That was more flattering than she expected. He blinked at her and looked nervous when she said nothing so he thew out another one.

“So, aside from taking my breath away, what do you do for a living? Do you have a Band-Aid, because I scraped my knees falling for you? No wonder it’s so gray around here, all the color is in your eyes.” With each line, he drew a bit closer to her, inch by inch. She did not move back, though some others would have.

Seeing the God of the Underworld trying cheesy pick-up lines on her caused her heart to give an unexpected flutter. She gave out a soft giggle. His eyebrow quirked in mild confusion as he tried to figure out if she was laughing at him, or just enjoying his lines.

“Do you have more?” she asked.

“More what? More lines? You want more?" he asked, delighted surprise in his voice. "Well, then. Are you an artist, because you're so good at drawing me in? Are you a time traveler, because I see you in my future? Do you know what my toga is made of? Boyfriend material." Closer still he leaned until his face was only half a foot away from her own. She might have felt threatened, but there was something… exciting about having him in her personal space. The smoke swirled around her feet and lower legs, but the pressure was gentle, barely even there.

What would it be like having Hades as a boyfriend? Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself, Persephone asked herself. She barely knew him! She blushed as Hades looked down at her, wiggling his eyebrows at her in a playful leer.

Mother would have told her to run. But she just stared back at him and smiled sweetly before she finished the rest of her drink. “I’ll admit, these lines are pretty funny. And I do thank you for humoring me.”

“I like a woman with a healthy sense of humor.”

She thought about what she’d seen on Olympus and the way he was treated. “I like a man who can make me laugh,” she retorted gently. This time, when they stared at one another, it wasn’t awkward. She was certain her lavender cheeks were more pink than purple now.

“Persephone!" one of the nymphs screeched. The spell was broken, and she gasped quietly as she spun around in the direction of the voice. The other woman was still a ways off, but she did not have much time. Annoyance flared up, and she took a deep breath before turning to Hades, seeing the blue flames edging with red as he glowered in the direction of the voice.

“I… gotta go. Sorry," she said. "Mom's been in a mood lately and I really don't want to provoke her. But it was nice to see you again, Hades." She handed the glass back to him, and he took it, their fingers touching for a moment and giving her a pleasant tingle.

“Wait,” she heard him say as she rose from her seat and turned from him. She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him.

“I suppose you wouldn’t object to me seeing you again?” he asked as he reached out, picking up her hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. For a god of a cold and dark place, his lips were surprisingly warm.

“Not at all.” Her voice came out a touch thicker than she’d expected, and she found herself not wanting to pull her hand away. “Bring a few more of these pick-up lines next time, will you?”

He chuckled at that and nodded. “Until then, Persephone.” He disappeared into the ether, and Persephone stood there, staring at the spot where he’d disappeared, all the gloom gone before her friend found her.

o0o0o0o

Pain and Panic peered at their lord and master from behind one of the pillars in the throne room. There’d been something a bit off about Hades since he came back from his last visit to Olympus. A couple of times, they’d caught him sitting on his throne, staring off with a wistful expression neither of them had ever seen. He’d just come back from the surface world, and there was no mistaking the moony expression on his face.

“Could it be?” Panic whispered to his companion. They’d served Hades for hundreds of years and been around enough mortals – usually to spy or cause mischief on behalf of Hades – and seen them act like this. Old or young, male or female. They might be servants from the realm of the dead, but they’d seen enough of Aphrodite and Cupid’s work.

“If this came from one of Cupid’s arrows, it won’t end well,” Pain responded worriedly. They remembered that too well, even though it’d been ages ago. Manufactured love might be strong, but it wasn’t true love. It was like trying to replace real vanilla extract with the imitation stuff, and for one such as the God of the Dead, it simply wouldn't do. Really, it wouldn't, as the whole Leuce affair had shown. Talk about a dumpster fire.

“Hopefully the girl will be nice?” Panic replied.

“Well, there’s that,” Pain replied, crossing his fingers and hoping for the best.

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