#was telling my friend about this piece this past weekend and she was like ‘send it to me when you’re done!!’

[patrickztump]

🎱 – 2024

i debated between these lyrics and "if i spilled my guts, the world would never look at you the same way" because the way i was able to capture him in this image he looked relatively serious. or at least more-so than he actually is. i did manage to give him more of a sinister look here, which i feel works with the lyrics. but this felt like an appropriate balance between being about a dog that could actually cause you physical harm and an eight ball reference.

[enhaheeseung]

At your service l. Heeseung

Pairing: live in maid heeseung x rich fem reader

Warnings: age gap, crying, angst, heartbreak.

• Masterlist

• WC: 2,344k

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

“What’s wrong with you?” Jay asked a depressed looking heeseung while they ate lunch outside on the school bench.

“You were right,” heeseung sighed, resting his chin on the table with a pout that had never left his face since you kicked him out last night.

“Hmm?” Jay takes a bite of his salad, mainly focusing on the contents of the bowl rather than his sulking friend.

“I should have just left her alone.” he pushes his food to the side, not having an appetite since last night.

“Who? Your boss?” Jay wipes his mouth a bit more attentively after hearing what heeseung said.

“Yeah,” heeseung mumbles sadly. Right now, he’d usually be using his lunch to go see you on his short break or at least text you, but alas, here he is, sitting in front of a cold lunch and a friend that he can’t help but despise a little bit even though the events of what happened last night were technically all his own fault.

“Why do you say that?” Heeseung sits up in his chair, body slouching down into the back of it.

“Cause I fell in love with her and she saw our messages” he taps the bench with his fingertips his eyes looking as if he’s spaced out while he casually tells his friend about his love life.

Jay nearly choked on a piece of lettuce when the words left his friend's mouth. “You what, and she what now?”

“I ended up playing a bit too much and fell in love with her,” he says, the tiniest bit of a smile reaching the corners of his mouth. “We were doing so good, and I haven’t been this happy with anyone in my entire life. I even bought her a little puppy. It was her birthday yesterday, and we were just so happy everything was going perfectly, but she saw the messages and-“ he choked up a little, remembering the hurt look on your face and the hurt he felt when you slapped him. “Needless to say, she doesn’t want to see me anymore, and I’m jobless,” he laughs pathetically, eyes tearing up a bit.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t know,” Jay murmured, feeling like it was his fault for sending the messages. Heeseung’s story was a little all over the place, but Jay got the jest.

“It’s not your fault I should have told you my feelings for her a long time ago and I apologize for denying my feelings towards her at the time I just didn’t want to fall in love again after what happened” he wiped his eyes straightening his posture and trying to take his mind off it. “Anyways what were you texting me for that was so urgent” he finally stuck his fork into a piece of cold beef on his food tray.

“Oh, um, I won a free trip to study in Canada, and I can bring a plus one,” Jay says enthusiastically. “And obviously, you’re the plus one, that is, if you’re up for it after, you know,” he mumbled the last part, hoping not to come off as insensitive.

Heeseung smiles faintly. “Canada really doesn’t sound too bad right now.”

-

A day after the incident with your now ex-boyfriend, you called your cousin cause you had to talk to someone about what happened; otherwise, you’d give yourself a headache thinking about it, and you knew he was the only one in your family who would still be up at this late hour.

“Hey, hoon,” you smile as you hear him greet you back, but your voice breaks almost immediately as you open up to him about everything, crying to him and pouring out every single detail that took place in the past few months of you dating your live-in maid.

You didn’t mean to dump all this on him at once, but you couldn’t keep it all bottled up in your head any longer.

He listens intently, agreeing with you on everything, even going as far as to curse out the man that he never met a day in his life before, but anyone who hurt you was a target for him, a walking bullseye.

“I can come over for the weekend i know how lonely it can get in that mansion of yours and I know this is really hard for you” he says as you both near the end of the conversation.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you,” you said softly.

“It’s fine. Besides, I’ll bring Jake over, too. He’s been dying to see your mansion ever since I told him about it,” he laughs.

“Thanks, hoon. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you two next week.” You end the call with a sigh. You could definitely use both their company.

-

When the weekend rolls around, and the clock strikes eight, your doorbell rings, and none other than your punctual cousin is standing outside on your porch, his arms spread wide open for a big hug.

“Hey! Y/n, it’s so good to see you,” he smiles softly, wrapping his arms around you.

“You too,” you replied, arms encircling his back, and you couldn’t help but cry from the contact, the comforting hug being exactly what you needed after sulking all week.

“Aww come on let’s go inside” he guided you inside tossing his bag on the floor and leading you to the couch. “You wanna tell me more?” He asks attentively.

You nodded, wiping your tears and giving him the run down from start to finish while your tears dried.

You told him everything from the start about how you felt about Heeseung and the relationship you had formed with him in the short time span since you had hired him till the last time you saw him and everything in between.

“Wow, what a fucking loser,” Sunghoon scoffs in disbelief, trying to control the rage that was coursing through his veins. That heeseung guy better pray they never come into contact. He thinks for a moment wondering how to go about this he could confront him personally and have a civil conversation with your piece of shit for an ex, but he had a better idea. “So you still have to see him one last time and give him his check?” You nodded, confused by his question, wondering what that had to do with anything after everything you’ve told him just now.

“Why?” You decided to ask.

“Leave it to me,” he smirks to himself, mentally patting himself on the back for his wicked idea, but heeseung should have known better than to hurt your feelings like that.

-

Heeseung was lying in bed, one hand behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, thinking about you.

Usually, at this time, he’d be laid up with you, cuddling in your bed and probably watching TV or making love to you or maybe just talking to you. Whatever the case, maybe he’d be with you, and that’s all that mattered. A notification on his phone knocks him out of his thoughts, and he reaches for it unenthusiastically. He doesn’t look at the screen; assuming it is Jay, he unlocks his phone, but his eyes quickly widen in surprise when he sees that it is you.

He popped up out of bed, opening the text faster than the speed of light and reading it.

He frowned.

He was hoping that maybe it was you actually reaching out to talk to him, but as he read that it was only about picking up his last paycheck, he couldn’t help the ache he felt in his chest.

On a brighter side, maybe when he picked up his check, he could use that as an opportunity to explain himself to you one last time.

He got up took a quick shower and got dressed in casual but classy attire spraying what used to be your favorite cologne on.

Slipping his shoes on, he grabs his keys and heads out the door to collect his last check, hoping you both could maybe have a conversation about what happened, and he could explain how sorry he really was and just how much he’s been missing you and loving you from afar.

Just in case, he grabbed the jewelry box before he left the one that held the birthday present, slipped it into his black slacks, and headed to your place.

Upon arrival he rings the doorbell and waits for a few moments whistling to get rid of his nervousness but it didn’t work.

The door swung open a few seconds later, and heeseung put on his best face, but it fell completely when you weren’t the one answering the door.

With his brow furrowed, he thinks to himself.

Who’s he? Since when did you have visitors? Was he your new boyfriend? Brother? But you didn’t look alike. What’s happening?

He wanted to say every single last one of those things, but instead, he composed himself. “H-hi, is y/n home?” He asked meekly.

“Umm, she is, but,” he enunciates the t, looking back at the staircase. “She’s busy,” he responds and looks at heeseung, a wide fake smile plastered on his face.

“Oh well, she texted me a bit ago to come over for my payment. I used to work for her, so,” he explains, wondering why you’d text him if you were so busy that you couldn’t even answer the door when he arrived.

“Odd,” Sunghoon rubbed his chin in thought. “I’ll let her kno- uh, never mind, there she is.” he opens the door wider, giving heeseung a clear view of you coming down the stairs.

Heeseung smiles when he sees you it’s only been a few days but you’re still just as beautiful as he remembers.

He goes to greet you, but again, his face falls flat when he sees you coming down with a man trailing behind you.

Not just a man.

A man that was shirtless, and now that his eyes flick between the two of you, he notices that you’re tying up a bedrobe, and the guy behind you is putting his shirt on. The sight made him feel like puking, and he could feel his heart drop.

Did you already move on that fast? Did you not love him in the first place? How were you already seeing other guys? “Y/n?” He says your name, clearly confused as he walks into your mansion and what you both used to call home together. “What Is this?” He can’t help but ask. His eyes are soft as ever as he looks at you, waiting patiently for an answer despite the racing of his poor heart.

“Oh, is this the guy you told me about?” Jake asked, pretending to be your new man going along with the plan that Sunghoon had brought up to you the other night when he came to your place.

You simply nodded your head, following Jake’s lead a bit reluctantly. You didn’t exactly like Sunghoon's plan, but since it was an opportunity to get back at heeseung, you took it after what he had done to you.

“You should have told me we had company, baby,” Jake smirks at heeseung. “Sorry, bro, didn’t mean to keep her so long, but I’m sure you know how it is.” Jake winks and places his hand on your shoulder for extra measure before walking past heeseung on the staircase.

Heeseung cringed at the filthy words this random guy spoke to him. Who the hell were they, and how did you go from barely having any contact with anyone to now having not one but two men in your home? This wasn’t like you. “Y/n,” he ignores everything else, waiting for you to give him answers. He needed it straight from the source, not whoever these two clowns were.

You turned around getting ready to walk upstairs but he quickly climbed the first three steps gripping your wrist and stopping you. “Hands off” sunghoon quickly intervened.

“I don’t know who you are, and I do not care. Lay hands on me again, and there’s going to be a problem.” heeseung turned to Sunghoon towering over him, his heart racing with anger, a complete contrast to the way he looked when he turned his attention back to you as Sunghoon took a few steps back. “Y/n, wait, please listen. I love you, okay?” He said softly, with tears gathering in his eyes as he reached into his pocket, grabbed the box with your jewelry in it, and showed it to you. “It was your birthday present. I got us matching ones.” he held out the box, and you couldn’t help but take it out and examine it. Your mind was piqued with curiosity, and your heart ached as you inspected it.

He peeled his shirt back, showing you the other half, which was hanging off a chain around his neck.

You really wanted to believe him, but if he loved you, what was his friend talking about? You were conflicted, and you regretted even listening to Sunghoon and setting this up as you handed heeseung the box back and ran to your room with tears in your eyes.

He watched you disappear from his sight and he closed the box his jaw tightly clenched as he walked back to the door bumping sunghoon on the shoulder roughly as he left and slammed the front door shut.

Jake appeared from the kitchen when everything went silent. “Did he really just drop the L word infront of us?” He asked eyes widen with shock.

“Yeah…..” sunghoon scratches his head in confusion. The funny thing is that heeseung looked really sincere, and the way he just confessed to you in front of them was definitely a gutsy move on his part.

Maybe he’d gauged it wrong, maybe Heeseung just made a mistake, or maybe he really did love you after all.

He shook his head and didn’t think about it too much before running upstairs to apologize and comfort you.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[midnightfantasiez]

Twisted Love | 넷 (chp.4)

SUMMARY: you were certain that you would never find love nor ever lose your virginity throughout university, that is until a man named Lee Sangyeon came into the picture and offered to become your tutor; in exchange for keeping your grades up, and most importantly, teaching you everything you needed to know about sex. it was all just for fun & games, that is until one of you started to develop feelings for the other.

PAIRING: tutor!Sangyeon x afab!reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: we taking a look back on Sangyeon's past 👀, as well as a peak into reader's feelings, petnames (princess), talks about Sangyeon having fwb behaviour, unprotected sex (pls don't do that irl), dirty talk, creampie, rough sex, p in v sex, doggy style, pussy rubbing, lots of teasing from your best friend Haknyeon, sex jokes (nothing too vulgar dw), alcohol consumption, Sangyeon is now just cold 🥺

WORD COUNT: 4,121

A/N: apologies for the late update on this one it's been a while!! 😭 but we're back and hohoho. yall are not ready for this one 😮‍💨✨

send me an ask/comment to join the series taglist! those in my permanent taglist will automatically be added!

Sangyeon’s POV

“Sangyeon? Sangyeon-ah!” 

That loud voice startled the young teacher assistant as he was scrolling through his computer, grading all of the pop quizzes that were handed in by the students over the school holidays, making him turn his back almost immediately towards the direction of the owner of the voice. 

Professor Kim clearly noticed the vast and heavy under eye bags that he had gotten recently, and it was very concerning to him, especially when he used to be his favourite and top student several years back. 

“Sangyeon-ah, you clearly have something going on in your mind, don’t you?” 

He knew that his professor read him like a book, and there was nothing he could do to hide his emotions and struggles from him ever—at least, he had never succeeded once. Sangyeon was basically like the professor’s own son, taking him in and tutoring him for hours after lectures each day back then so that he could obtain the title of one of the best alumni the university has ever seen for the past decade. 

After graduation, Sangyeon traveled to Tokyo for a couple of years and gained some experience there before returning to Seoul, where he met the love of his life. 

Meeting his ex was truly one of the best things he had ever experienced, especially abroad, since he had accepted the fact that he would be completely stuck working remotely in his apartment, with little to no contact from the outside world. 

But it was thanks to his roommate, who convinced him to attend their monthly company events, that he met the love of his life. She was half Korean and half Japanese, and she was truly one of the sweetest human beings he had ever seen. 

Within less than a year, they got so close that he decided to move in with her, spending almost 24 hours with her at all times and treating her the best that he possibly could. It went pretty smoothly for two years—travelling all across Japan during the weekends and their paid holidays while making precious memories together. 

Sangyeon was convinced that he had found the love of his life, and he was ready to propose to her. He even reserved a specially made ring from Tiffany & Co. in Ginza, Tokyo—turquoise was her favourite colour, after all. 

But his dreams came shattering down when his ex confronted him in the comforts of their apartment one night, telling him that she had found someone better and that it was time to end their relationship. Tears were shed, and his heart was shattered into pieces when he found out the exact reason why she saw no future between them.

You don’t pleasure me enough. 

Through that heartbreak, he decided that he needed to go through a healing journey, and to really figure out what he was lacking that made his ex end things abruptly with him during the peak of their relationship. Hence, he started meeting different types of girls—goody-two shoe ones or girls who were often wild and found at the clubs, all to figure out and work on his sex skills. 

He has definitely learnt a lot more through those experiences, even if some of them turned out pretty messy and unpleasant—he just needed to refine himself to make sure that he would be loved once again. 

However, when he finally got back to Seoul a couple of years prior, he decided that it was time to put his fuckboy life behind in order to live a proper life with a stable job and to mix around with people who weren’t just craving for his dick. 

After a few different jobs, he finally landed on his current one, and he was surprised yet grateful that Mr Kim actually thought and remembered about him after all those years, and he immediately accepted the offer without much dilemma, thinking that working in the education field would divert his attention back to reality for a bit. 

That was until he met you. 

He only had one job at the sorority party: to make sure that the students avoided making outrageous decisions and that everyone went back home safe and sound. But somehow, he laid his eyes upon you, and you reminded him so much of his ex. Be it the looks you had or your demeanour, or how it was the way you reacted that was the exact same with his ex back when he first crossed paths with her during a company event where she had a little too much to drink. 

Instantly, the lust within him grew, and he knew that it was hard for him to refuse the kiss that you gave. One thing led to another, and then you actually trusted him to take your virginity away. Sangyeon was definitely beyond grateful about that, knowing that he was actually validated and loved in some way, even if you were absolutely lost in this whole messed up contract you both had made with one another. 

But there was something different about you: you never refused his touch and that you actually enjoyed his company, even if his tutoring sessions were definitely something completely different to what you had in mind. 

Sangyeon never thought much about it, until Haknyeon came into the picture. 

He never really knew why that was exactly the case. Haknyeon had been your best friend since you were kids, and he had little to no room for messing up with your personal life. It was not his place to have a say in this, after all. Who was he to judge nor control the timing of when your best friend would actually return from abroad and reunite with you this quickly? 

It shouldn’t have affected him in the slightest—Haknyeon was just being himself and hanging out with his best friend after being separated for quite a while.

But why did he have this uncomfortable feeling deep down in his gut that was slowly eating him away? 

To the point he even had a spicy dream about you making out with your best friend. 

It has been a week since he last saw you, and this time, Sangyeon himself was the one to turn down all of the tutoring sessions that were supposed to be going on, coming up with any possible excuses to tell you that he wasn’t able to see you for a while.

Or rather, he wasn’t ready to reunite with you. 

However, he knew that he could no longer avoid this, as he clearly had to meet with you to discuss the possible topics or chapters that your professors would highlight in the upcoming quiz that was going to take place next week. 

With that, he kindly excused himself from the lecture hall where he was with Professor Kim. He slowly made his way out to the nearest rooftop garden, located right outside the campus. He reluctantly took out his phone and dialled the familiar number. 

“Hey, I’m coming over at eight tonight. Don’t be late.”

Y/N’s POV

Your walls are slowly ripping apart with every single thrust that Sangyeon makes within you, not caring about your pleas and cries as he continues to push his cock further and as deep as he can. 

You were panting while lying flat down on the bed with your ass sticking up to his abdomen, both your arms bound by one of his veiny hands, while the other was gripping a clump of your hair as his groans filled the entire room. 

Sure, you both have had rough sex like this before, but deep down, you knew that something wasn’t right, especially with the way he treated you firsthand when he stepped right into your apartment. The both of you would usually start with your actual work, having an hour or two to work on your grades before going in with the sex, but that wasn’t the case today.

Immediately, he quickly pinned you straight to your front door the moment you let him in, and he began kissing you feverishly, not giving you any room for rejecting his advances. Frankly, you couldn’t even do much because, well, you did kind of miss his presence. 

You missed his scent so badly and how his fingers would comb through your hair whenever you made out. You missed the way his lips felt against yours, that sweet mango-flavoured lip balm that he would often apply on a daily basis, one that you have grown accustomed to. 

Most importantly, you craved the way he would treat you in bed. He knew exactly what you needed and was feeling for the day. It was as if he had some sort of telepathy when it came to reading your mind, and he would meet every single one of your needs for the day. 

Sangyeon always made you feel good about yourself; it made you feel as if you were loved by someone, given that you had concluded that romance would never be a thing for you in university. But ever since Sangyeon came into the picture, that all changed. 

You knew this was all part of the gimmick and the so-called “contract.” None of this is accurate, and you two will not be guaranteed to end up as a couple.

However, you have always kept your hopes up that perhaps one day, Sangyeon would change his mind and that you actually meant a lot more to him, given that he would agree with this whole ordeal in the first place. 

Right? 

It has been about 3 minutes of Sangyeon constantly picking up his pace as he thrusts into you, but this time, you could tell that he was getting impatient. He tugged you up aggressively to pull you upright, with you now kneeling on the bed while his other hand was still holding both of yours in place. 

“Y/N— Tell me—How much you missed this?” He panted while he leaned close to whisper into your ear, desperate for your answer.

“A lot— I missed this so much—” 

“Come on, Y/N. You can do better than that— Show me how much you missed this—” Sangyeon growled before letting go of your hair and moving down to rub your dripping wet clit.

“I— I missed you, Sangyeon! I want you so badly!” You were now shaking from the mess that Sangyeon had placed you in, and it made it even worse when he began sucking on your earlobe. “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” 

“Cum all over my cock, princess. Do it for me,” Sangyeon commanded before giving one final thrust as you two finally came, then taking a few seconds to come down from your high before letting you go as you fell straight down onto the bed. 

You expected Sangyeon to do the same because that was what you had grown accustomed to—cuddling in bed until you regained strength and sometimes sharing a few sensual and slow kisses before he would carry you right into your bathtub and give you a warm bath. 

However, your tutor immediately got up and put on his pants, pushing his sweaty hair back with his hands before draping his shirt over his bare shoulders and walking straight into the living room. 

“Call me when you’re ready. I’ll get you ready for a bath, and then we’ll work on the lectures.”

Those were the very last words he said without even turning his head back to look at you before closing your bedroom door shut. 

Something was definitely not right.

“What’s with that gloomy face that would actually cause a thunderstorm to happen sooner than later, miss Y/N?” 

You were brought back to reality when your best friend flicked you on your forehead, earning a yelp from you while giving him an immense glare as if you were going to murder him right here and then. 

“Nothing. Just been having some issues with some assignments,” you commented before returning to meddle with your boba straw instead of drinking from it. 

“Nah, I’m not convinced. Y/N, I’ve known you for decades now, and that look is giving me an I'm-depressed-please-get-me-to-talk-about-it look,” Haknyeon insisted as he pulled your boba drink away from you.

“Hey! Give it back!” You raised your voice before your best friend began taking a sip of your beverage. “Oh, Ju Haknyeon, you’re so dead—”

“Then spill. I’m going to finish up your favourite Oolong Milk Tea if you don’t,” he stuck out his tongue right at you before taking a few more sips of your beverage. You could clearly see that he was already halfway through and would inhale the entire thing if you were not going to speak anytime soon.

“Okay okay, stop! Don’t finish it! That’s my very last boba that I’ll be able to afford for the month.”

“Not my problem that you’re not earning as much with your current part-time job.”

“Look, I’m doing it all for charity, okay?”

“Don’t care; spill the tea now.”

“You’re so–”

“Tick tock, tick tock! I’m going to finish it!” Haknyeon teased before taking another big sip, and he was close to finishing up your boba pearls. 

“Fine! I’ll talk! Now take your mouth out of that straw,” you snarled. 

Haknyeon’s eyes now glowed as if he was going to listen to his favourite bedtime story from when he was a kid, and he quickly pushed the drink aside and rested his face on both of his palms as he leaned forward to look straight at you. 

“I hate how something tells me that you’re planning to use whatever I’m going to say up against me.” 

“It depends, knowing you it’s probably about your “side assignment” instead of your actual ones.” 

Dang it. 

“I absolutely despise how you just know too well about me,” you sulked. 

“Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me forever as best friends, so suck it up,” he smiled, giving you his signature puppy eyes which just made you roll your eyes back. “Now that’s just rude. You’re ignoring my cuteness.” 

“It makes me wanna puke every time I see you do that straight to my face,” you fought back. 

“Okay so, what exactly happened between you and Sangyeon?” Haknyeon immediately jumped into the topic, not giving you a little breath of air to mentally prepare yourself on how you would address it to your best friend. 

On the bright side, it definitely saves you from taking your usual 10 minutes to muster up the courage before you would touch on topics like this. 

“I wished I knew, Haknyeon,” you lowered your head, and your voice was now getting softer than before. Truthfully, you never really knew how you felt about all of this. 

You were definitely concerned about Sangyeon’s change of demeanour; it was not like him to give you fairly little attention or care. After all, the Sangyeon you knew always made sure the people around him were being taken care of, and he would always put up this genuine and soft smile that seemed to make even the worst possible scenario seem bearable. 

However, another part of you was also feeling certain emotions that you weren’t sure if you could pinpoint them correctly. Sadness? Loneliness? Upset? You really didn’t know at all. 

But it seemed your friend immediately picked up on the situation and flat-out shoved his observations right at your face. 

“So you’re sad that he did not give you any aftercare after your last sex,” Haknyeon flatly blurted out right there and then.

“What the fuck? Of course not! It was definitely nice if he did…but that’s not the main point,” you were now blushing as you commented on that. 

“Hmm…you’re sad he walked out on you after sex,” he continued.

“Haknyeon. He was just different. Even during our tutoring sessions, he wouldn’t even look right at me in the eyes, and his vision was constantly on the lecture notes for the 2 hours we were doing it.”

“And then he left right away after that.”

“And yes, he left immediately after that, with only a single goodbye.” 

You slowly waited for your friend to process all that information before his concerned look turned into a sinister smile, knowing he was up to no good. 

“You wanted more sex after that.” 

Immediately, you slapped his arms, earning a yelp from him and sending you daggers through his eyes. “Can you not hurt me like that!”

“Then be serious with me, will you?” You snapped, crossing both of your arms while giving him a little huff. 

“Okay fine, he’s different than usual. And what about it? You do know that Sangyeon has his own life and matters to deal with; he’s also an adult and not just a tutor and a sex buddy, okay?”

“I’m aware of that…but it’s affecting me too…” 

“How so?” 

Haknyeon now scoots closer to you, and he is now resting his hand on his arms that are draped on the table so that he can peer up and look straight at your face from below. 

“Oh, hell no. You caught feelings for the guy, Y/N.” 

Cat’s out of the bag. 

Suddenly, all the alarms went off in your mind, and all the puzzle pieces came together immediately. You knew that from the back of your mind, part of the reason you didn’t want to agree with this whole contract to begin with was that you were afraid that you wouldn’t be able to distinguish between “business” and “romance”. 

However, you were desperate to find love, and you were certainly not going to graduate university being labelled as a virgin. Hence, you decided that it wouldn’t harm to actually try it out. 

Only if you knew that your worst nightmare was slowly beginning to form down the road. 

You didn’t really know when you started falling for your tutor, but who could’ve blamed you? Especially when he was one of the university’s top alumni and had such good looks that made every female swoon over him whenever he bypassed down the halls. 

Sangyeon was truly a blessing and a curse for you. You were now stuck in a situation where you actually developed feelings for the man himself, even when you promised yourself that you would never fall deep into this whole situationship that was going on between you two. 

It seemed as if you had failed. Horribly. 

If it wasn’t for Haknyeon, who was now cupping both of your cheeks with his hands, you could’ve gone on and on overthinking this whole situationship between you and Sangyeon. Thankfully, you were now brought back to reality and managed to break that unpleasant train of thought for a little while. 

“Look, Y/N. I don’t know why you’re overthinking about all of this. If you fall for him, then why not? Confess to him. If you’re worried about him, then ask him face-to-face. It can’t be that hard, especially when you both are a lot closer than just normal friends.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know why I’m making such a big deal out of all this,” you chuckled before choking on the tears bound to drip down your face. 

But Haknyeon wouldn’t let that happen and immediately embraced you, soothing you by rubbing your back while his other hand patted your head. “Here’s an idea: you’re good at baking. Why not make him some sweet treats to thank him for all the hard work he has put in for you and also to make him happier?” 

“You’re right. Maybe I could whip up that mango sago recipe my mother used to make for me all the time, and I’ll give it to him after the quiz tomorrow morning.” 

With that, Haknyeon smiled and ruffled your hair before rubbing his nose against yours. “Now that’s more like the Y/N I know.”

You tried so hard to juggle between studying for your quiz and making the dessert the night prior. To be fair, making the dessert would’ve taken about half an hour, and it was a fairly simple recipe—that is if Haknyeon hadn’t decided to take you out to a newly opened bar and treat you to some drinks before you finally came to realise that you have a quiz the following day. 

You scurried your way back home at 1 in the morning, and you quickly tried your best to sober up by chugging down glasses of water and splashing your face with some cold water in an attempt to pull an all-nighter. 

Without wasting time, you immediately set your phone on silent mode and try your best to focus on studying for the quiz while taking necessary breaks to work on the dessert. It took about a couple of hours before you realised the sun was about to rise as the sunlight shone through your blinds. You knew there was no point in trying to take a little shut-eye now, for you wouldn’t want to risk being late for the quiz.

Instead, you caked on as much makeup as you could to try to cover the under-eye bags and to make it seem that you weren’t drunk in the slightest as you packed away everything, including the dessert, as you made your way to campus.

Besides feeling groggy and not your best self due to the lack of sleep and alcohol in your system, everything else went smoothly as you arrived on time and did some last-minute studying before your professor was about to walk in with the papers in hand. 

Sure enough, Sangyeon trailed behind Professor Kim at 8 a.m. sharp and helped your professor to pass out the papers for each student, even coming close to placing one right on your desk personally. Obviously, you looked up to see him right in the eye, but the male didn’t return the favour, and he quickly made his way towards the other students.

You were slightly upset, that’s for sure. However, you figured he was just doing his job and not making any unnecessary interaction since it was during campus hours. Once all of the students had gotten their papers, the professor started the timer before everyone began answering the questions frantically. 

On the other hand, you were doing fairly well and with ease, all thanks to Sangyeon highlighting the specific chapters to focus more on during your last tutoring session with him. You could answer all of them easily before you realised you had finished a little earlier than the other students. 

With that, you gently placed your pen on one side before turning your eyes to look straight at the male himself. Unfortunately, he was staring right at the students on the lower ground, not even once tilting his head up to glance at the floor you were on. Once again, you had to remind yourself that he was just doing his job as a teacher’s assistant, nothing else. 

After what seemed like 10 minutes had passed, the timer that your professor set had gone off, and all of the students were to hand in their papers before they were permitted to leave the hall, and then it was the start of midterm break. 

You followed the other students, gently placing your paper on your professor’s desk before bowing to him and wishing each other a blessed midterm break until you reached the front door where Sangyeon leaned against the wall, grabbing onto your wrist and not letting it go in the slightest. Instead, his grip tightened slightly before he gently pulled you back into the hall, addressing a few things with your professor before he took the papers with him and left. 

“H-Hey, Sangyeon! Thanks for helping me during the last tutoring session. The quiz was fairly easy, and I was able to answer the whole thing fairly quickly!” You tried your best to show Sangyeon your excitement, but the male only furrowed his brows and stared at you blankly. 

Now, that was awkward. 

Trying your best to break the tension between you two, you quickly fished through your backpack to pull out the dessert that you have been dying to give to him. “Oh! I made you a little something last night to show you my token of appreciation! I think you’ll love it—”

“Y/N. Stop it.” 

That alone was enough to freeze you in place, and your hand immediately fell off from your backpack. “S-Sangyeon? Is something the matter?” 

Instead of answering your question, Sangyeon takes in a deep breath and tucks his hands away into his pockets before closing in his distance between you. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But this whole tutoring session between us is over.”

A/N: one more chapter to go folks 🥹

series masterlist

main masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @flwoie @synthwxve @mamuljji @j4edo @serinebsblog @daisyvisions @momhwa-agenda @snowflakewhispers @strayed-quokka (join my permanent taglist here!)

[agendabymooner]

cinema ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc) — mdni

“it’s you. don’t know why but it feels so right for me.”

summary: a breakup can lead to a loss of a part of one’s identity, and sylvie and max were alright with that. (1)(2)(3)(4)

content warning: use of explicit language, mention of mental health issues and lack of sleeping, light smut/suggestive content (i can’t write for shit), mentions of loss of virginity, mention of past!ofc x the weeknd (toxic breakup, cheating storyline), chatfic + fic, mature content under the cut MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

note: yo girl is going to the 2024 canadian gp 😩 there will also be a charles leclerc piece otw but i just need to put out my cracked out thoughts into it. also, i can’t write smut so there will not be any extremely graphic details in this chapter. this doesn't mean that i am encouraging people to read it at their own risk so MINORS DNI :)

masterlist

september 2016

Everyone in the Red Bull area knew the reason why Sylvie was often found crying in Daniel Ricciardo’s drivers room during her breaks. Well, everyone but Sylvie. She lived to blame herself for the downfall of what she thought was a great relationship.

They were reaching the sixth month and if it hadn’t been for Abel’s cheating, then maybe— MAYBE Sylvie would continue to pursue what she had with him.

Everyone thought Abel was a fool. Sylvie hadn’t done anything but be a good person, a loyal girlfriend. Why did he let another woman warm the bed that they shared?

Because she spent more time with Max than she had with him. That’s what he said. When she found him in his flat and asked what the hell was going on, Abel yelled at her for not going home. He screamed that she was doing it first with her “fucking best friend.” He didn’t even know the rough past between the two; he only knew Max’s name and had seen their childhood photos. So much for someone who had been dating her for five months.

Instead of fighting back, she cried. Her feet stood there as her sobs became a plea to let her inside once he kicked her out. She looked so pathetic.

It didn’t stop her from working, though, and Christian Horner couldn’t be more wrong when he previously said that she wasn’t emotionally prepared for work.

Her work kept her mind occupied throughout the Hungary race. From sending emails back and forth with her model agency to attending sponsor dinners, her mind never stopped running until she was able to get some sleep.

Because truthfully, she really wasn’t able to sleep. She only relied on chamomile tea then pretended that she was refreshed from the night before.

Her family had tried to get some word out of her about the break up, but she refused to say anymore. Toto did say that Abel had a bad aura within him, yet Sylvie knew that her in-law wasn’t about to tell her that “I told you so.” Stevie definitely called Abel out on his bullshit one night when she came across him at a bar in LA. Tilly merely comforted her without a word. Other than that, Sylvie never said anything about it— her eyes were focused on the racing team and the drivers.

The night before the race, she found Max standing in front of her hotel room. Her bloodshot eyes were evidence of her sadness and exhaustion, but it wasn’t as if she could easily close the door on him to hide it away. He was persistent and would most likely bring Lando here if it means that he would be able to get in.

The Dutchman stood there with a tray of macarons and another tray with cups of tea. “Chamomile,” it said on both tea bags. His accent was laced with concern as he spoke, “I know you haven’t had the greatest weekend yet. I had to beg my PR manager to find me a pastry shop for these.”

And so they sat on the love seat quietly, Easy A playing on the television while they both munched on the last two strawberry macaroons and sipped on their tea.

“He blamed me, you know?” Sylvie chuckled bitterly, her eyes still trained on Emma Stone’s makeover scene as the character continued ripping fabrics off in rage. I should do that, she told herself. She could see in her peripheral vision that Max looked at her, leaving her to say, “Said I spent too much time with you. That I slept with you first.”

“Blue—“ Max tried to speak, but she continued regardless.

“Which is kind of rich of him,” Sylvie shook her head, reaching out on the tray to eat the matcha flavoured macaron next. She bit on it and said, “Considering that I never had slept with anyone I spend my time with. Let alone sleep with anyone.”

“I don’t recall sleeping with anyone, too,” Max made things lighter as he joked, “I would have remembered otherwise.”

“Man,” Sylvie sighed and slumped against the loveseat, “had I known that men would be like that, then I would’ve ditched him immediately.”

Sylvie knew that whatever she did with Max the moment he came inside the hotel room made her realize her worth. What was it about her childhood friend that made her think the other way?

Everyone did say they were connected one way or another. She didn’t know how and he didn’t know either; but everyone insisted they were soulmates. One soul in two different bodies. She knew him as much as he knew her. She always had similar thoughts and feelings shared with him, and not once did he ever go against that idea. He pushed her, in fact.

“Not men,” Max laughed quietly, “boys. Men learn. Boys are still in the process of doing so.”

“Didn’t you just hit puberty two months ago?” She joked.

“Didn’t you?” He bit back with a smile.

She laughed along, shaking her head once more. They fell silent as Sylvie stared at his eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen it up close. But god, they sure looked prettier than they did before Abel had broken up with her.

“Would it be,” she stammered, leaving the man next to him scowling as he goaded her into speaking. She cleared her throat and sighed. “Would it be okay to ask… if I can… ah, shit. Never mind. It sounds bollocks if I continue on.”

“We don’t hide things anymore, Mustang,” he teased her, “remember? We agreed on it.”

“So if I were to ask if you want to… do… it…”

Now he was rendered silent. She wanted the world to swallow her the moment she found him staring at her. He was frozen, and she felt her body burning in embarrassment as she wished to leave the place. This was her bloody room, she couldn’t get out of here.

“I- I-“ he stuttered, his cheeks heating up as he asked, “You want to do it?”

“I’ve always wondered what it's like,” she murmured quietly. “I tried imagining doing it with him but… he never seemed to have that kind of intention to… I don’t know… pay attention to my wants.”

“Pretty foolish of that dickhead,” Max scoffed. “If he only wants to use you, then it’s a great thing that you knew better than that.”

“But seriously—“ he continued, “Sylvie, look at me in the eyes and tell me you want me to do it with you.”

“I do,” she admitted meekly, staring at him while she said so before she turned away. “I don’t think I can do it with someone else. If they’re the same as him then I don’t know… and you’re not him or anyone. So…”

“Okay,” he nodded understandingly. He backed away for a second before catching his breath and murmured, “Okay… I’ll make sure you and I aren’t hurt. And- and, I’ll make sure you have the best time.”

And the best time, it was. It was the first time Sylvie slept in a few days. It was also the first time she shared an intimate moment with someone. Someone being Max Emilian Verstappen.

Anyone experienced with two eyes would point out that everything that happened was done rather clumsily. It probably didn’t help that Max had to trip and knock on Dan’s door to ask for a condom, but it was better to be embarrassed than sorry, he supposed.

Sylvie could remember herself wiping the smudged mascara off her face and removing her top to put on the black corset top that she had on her suitcase, keeping her black wide legged sweatpants on while he went out to “say hi to Dan for a minute.” She didn’t need to put on a makeup. It wasn’t really that special, was it? No. It certainly was, she just didn’t want to spook Max especially when his eyes widened just as he walked in on her putting on a lip balm with nothing but her bra and sweatpants on.

He couldn’t deny anything that night, especially to himself. The moment his tongue swiped over her lips, he nearly groaned in satisfaction at the minty flavour of her chapstick. A hint of strawberry came with it, finding himself caging her against the marble sink as she desperately held him… by the arms and his mouth.

Both of them were clueless, not knowing how to maneuver around one another the moment Max settled her down to her (upgraded) king-sized bed. For a moment, he wondered how she had managed to get herself a large room — knowing that the hotel room booked for him and Danny were smaller than hers — but her wandering hands sent his thoughts away when her palm landed on his sweatpants, eliciting a sigh from him.

Too many questions of, “Is this okay” and “are you alright” were exchanged— both of them unsure if either of them were comfortable or smart enough to be doing this. But one thing that they knew for sure was they wouldn’t be able to forget that night. It wasn’t the just pleasure that made it too memorable— but rather their experience with one another that made it too… good to forget. Sylvie and Max could care less about reaching the highs and lows when all they could think about was that they’ve done it with one another.

She could remember waking up to him kissing her forehead as he spoke in Dutch, telling her that they would talk sometime during the day before he left the room. She pretended to be asleep, but the whisper of his voice made her heart beat faster as if he hadn’t just called her love.

For someone who “hated” Max, Sylvie trusted him for taking a part of her and allowed him to ruin other men for her. She was sure that Max was her standard now. She couldn’t imagine doing the most intimate things with someone who didn’t have the same values and personality as him.

God, Max ruined her. But it wasn’t as if Sylvie was complaining about it. She embraced that idea, in fact.

[ninacytosis]

For the time lost

Summary: Zuko wants to erase every reminder of his past mistakes, and Katara will take him on a journey to, quite literally, heal both of their scarrings.

Contains: Angst, Fluff, Katara has burns scars from Aang's first attempts to firebend, Katara tries to get over her resentment towards the FN, Zuko doesn't hate Azula.

Dear reader: I hope you enjoy it! <3 Let me know if you want me to continue posting.

Find chapter two here.

Also if you prefer reading in ao3 here's the link.

┊┊┊┊☆┊*🌙*┊☆┊┊┊┊

Chapter One

“Dear Zuko:

I hope this letter finds you well. Since you didn’t respond to my messages from the previous weeks, I couldn’t help but do a little investigation on my own. Aang told me he last visited the Fire Nation a couple of days ago, and to his surprise, you weren’t there. Honestly, this got me even more curious. What are you up to, Fire Lord? What juicy secret are you keeping from us?

Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that my dad made some octo-fish soup this weekend. I bet you have never tried it, well, maybe on your finding-the-avatar days you stopped by and tried. But that doesn’t seem like you. One day Sokka and I will cook you some, but only if you tell me why you’re being so distant lately!

We’re always here for you, Zuko.

Hugs,

Katara”

Zuko read the letter while waiting for the water to boil. He had never heard of octo-fish soup to this day, but he wasn’t opposed to trying new dishes. In fact, most of his favorite dishes weren’t even from the Fire Nation. After trying the Omashu noodles, who could blame him?

 “Dear Katara,

I hope you enjoyed that soup and the company of your family. Knowing that you spend good quality time with your family brings me so much joy and relief because all of you deserve it. I hope that every good memory makes up for every bad one, though unfortunately, healing doesn’t work like an exchange, does it?

As the Fire Lord, certain duties demand my presence in the other nations. So, as much as I wish my lack of responses were due to a secret vacation of mine, they are more like business trips. Might as well call me the Fire Businessman now. (Don’t let anyone read this to Toph because she most certainly will call me that.)

It was nice hearing from you. Send as many letters as you please. Even if I’m not home, I’ll promise I’ll read them. By the way, how are your little waterbenders doing? I’m sure it was harder to handle Aang, you know, back in our teaching-the-Avatar days.

Best,

Zuko”

He sat down and frowned at the piece of paper. It’s not that he wanted to hide things from her, or his friends. But it was almost embarrassing to write and send a letter describing his last weeks. It was a path of emotions he was unready to walk through. She would probably forget it in a couple of weeks anyway, and then he would be able to tell her everything.

“Dear Zuko,

Or should I say, Dear Fire Liar?

Even though I don’t have a lot of time in my hands, I still managed to get some information about your mysterious “business” trips. Sokka’s been of great help, for once, and a little bird told him that people from the Northern Water Tribe have spotted you in very weird places. But being honest, I still don’t know what is it that you’re hiding so hard. You got yourself an Ice Lady?

On another note, it’s very exciting to see both of the Nations exchanging goods and, you know, not trying to slit each other’s throats. I always wanted the war to end of course, but it was very hard to imagine a future so full of prosperity. It’s hard to grasp sometimes.

I hope I’m not getting overly emotional but it makes me think about my mom a lot. She never lived in a world without war in it, isn’t that fucked up? Some days I feel a strange guilt running through my body because I get to move on and she will always stay there. This seems like I’m getting all over the place. I don’t usually say this stuff to anybody, but I know you would get it. And today seems like a good day for letting it all out.

When I’m down, I like to think that she sees the world through the eyes of Sokka, or dad’s, or even mine. It’s silly, I know. But it makes me feel closer to her.

Well, enough about me. Tell me more about your trips, about your uncle’s new place. I’m dying to know. Maybe next time you should try doing business in the Southern Water Tribe and pay us a visit. We all miss you!

Hugs,

Katara”

Zuko took a long breath. No amount of tea would cure the unmeasurable shame that he felt reading Katara’s letter. He knew how empathetic she was, and how much he loved her family, and he could never forgive himself for what his family did to the world. Every day he looked at himself in the mirror and was reminded of a past he could never erase, his face became no longer his once his dad put his palm on it.

His sudden state made him forget about Katara’s little quest. He was not only full of shame but also full of passion to help others. Every reminiscent of the war also reminded him of the resilience of people during difficult times. And every time Katara changed the subject, Zuko needed to excruciatingly tell her how much her strength motivated him to be better. And after writing that letter, he decided it was time to invite her to the palace.

[theloveoffootball10]

sᴛɪᴄᴋᴡɪᴛᴜ : ᴇ ʟ ᴇ ᴠ ᴇ ɴ

m a s t e r l i s t

ᴇ ʟ ᴇ ᴠ ᴇ ɴ

Sitting down for breakfast by the pool the next morning I know Liv has something on her mind. My guess is a certain Formula One drivers best friend. After we met Max in Belgium, Liv didn't say a lot just that she had a one night stand with him and it was a mistake. Looking at her since we saw Max I know there's more to it.

"What's going on Liv? You can tell me" I ask hoping she'll open up to me.

"Lucía I feel like such a dick, especially seeing Max again. I'm well aware it was a one night stand but he has a girlfriend"

"What! Is he taking the piss!" I can't believe what I'm hearing from Liv.

"He told me on the morning when we were in Belgium that their relationship is very on and off but he's with her at the minute. He got back with her about a week before Tomorrowland"

"And he still decided to sleep with you? The utter disrespect on him is appalling. Not only has he treated you like shit but he's cheated on his girlfriend. Have you said anything to him?" I ask wondering if Liv has spoken to Max at all.

"We have messaged a little bit and I know it's wrong because of his girlfriend but I am attracted to him. The best thing for me to do is keep away from him this weekend"

"Liv I'm sorry, I told Lando they were welcome to come over any day. I can ask him not to bring Max if you would rather" I say knowing Lando will turn up at our villa at some point. "What are you going to do about Max? You can't avoid him forever"

"Honestly? I have no idea. I'll work that out when I have to. I'm going to get ready, I'll see you back here when we're ready to go" as I watch Liv go back inside I wonder if Lando knows about what happened with Max and Liv. I feel like I need to tell him but I also feel like I need to keep out of it.

As we arrive at the track the atmosphere is electric, I don't know if it's the buzz of the Miami heat but everyone is in such a good mood. Getting ourselves settled in the paddock until the race starts I leave my friends to do their own thing, Ryan is taking in everything with Callum and the girls are making the most of the hospitality drinks.

"Morning Chels" I say spotting my dad's PR manager as I wander the paddock with nothing in particular planned, I just like to walk around and people watch.

"Morning, your dad told me about you and a certain boy. He asked me to try and keep your name out of the press if any of the rumours mention you"

"He's done that? He doesn't know the full extent of what is going on, all he knows is that we're seeing how things go"

"You're his daughter Lucía, he doesn't want anyone talking bad about you and let's be honest your dad doesn't need to know about your extra curricular activities. There are just some things a dad doesn't need to know" the thought of my dad knowing exactly what I get up makes me want to hide away in embarrassment.

"Thanks Chels. Can you let me know if you see anything about me? I just want to know what is out there" I probably shouldn't read into what could be said about me if there is anything however from what I've seen about my dad in the past, it provides a source of entertainment if nothing else. Thankfully Chelsea is on my side and agrees to send me anything she comes across or is approached about. I continue my walk through the paddock, cocktail in hand when I see Max. Lando isn't with him but I want nothing more than to give him a piece of my mind.

"So I've been told by a very good source that a certain number 4 is wanting to win the race for you today" Max says as he walks up to me and I can't hold back.

"I don't know how you dare! You disgust me Max. You might be okay hurting your girlfriend but I'm not standing by and watching you hurt my best friend!"

"What are you talking about? I might have to tell Lando you're batshit crazy"

"I'm talking about you sleeping with my best friend then telling her you got back with your girlfriend the week before! It's vile behaviour. You don't deserve an ounce of her time" the more I speak to Max the more angry I get "you fucking disgust me"

"Whoa is everything okay?" Hearing Lando's voice is the last thing I want right now, he doesn't need to be involved in this before a race.

"It'll be fine as long as he stays away from Liv. By the way Dickhead, I told him to win the race for himself not for me" Walking away from Max I feel Lando follow me and pull me into the McLaren hospitality area. I don't argue I just follow behind until we're in his drivers room "I'm sorry you didn't need that here of all places"

"What happened Lu?" Lando asks brushing my hair from my face.

"Max slept with Liv in Belgium then told her the next morning he has a girlfriend. Lando I have no issue with people having sex and doing what they want but I don't agree with it when someone is in a relationship"

"He told me he ended it with Becca, I swear I didn't know Lu" as Lando moves to sit down he pulls me with him, holding me on his knee his head resting on my shoulder.

"Lando I'm not blaming you. We were in bed when it happened neither of us were to know but I suppose we can't make their decisions for them" resting my head back on Lando's shoulder I relax in his arms.

"You just went full Manchester on Max there, I can't lie it was sexy as fuck seeing you angry" feeling Lando's lips on my neck I can tell where this is heading, unfortunately we don't have the time.

"Lando we can't, not now. You have to be in your car in five minutes" turning my head to look at Lando I run my fingers through his curls kissing him "When you've won this race come and find me later so I can congratulate you" standing up I know I need to pull myself away before we get carried away "Good luck Lando"

Sneaking out of Lando's room, I head back to Aston Martin to wish my dad good luck before finding a seat on the hospitality balcony. Usually I would watch from in the garage but this weekend there's too many of us to all fit so I've given my space up for Ryan and Callum. I don't mind, I can come to a race any time and sometimes I'd rather sit with my girls and teach them the ways of Formula One.

I know Liv and Danielle have no interest in racing, they're here for me however I know Millie is trying to understand the sport more. As the race goes on I try to explain as much as I can over the noise of the cars around us. It's nice having more of my friends interested in racing and being able to talk about what's happening in races.

Watching as Lando leads the race I can't stop my leg bouncing up and down with nerves. He has every chance to win this race and I want nothing more than to see him get his first win. Since he took the lead he's been building the gap between Verstappen and himself, even boxing under the safety car hasn't compromised his race. As the last lap starts I feel sick, this is what it comes down to.

"Lucía it's okay he's winning this" Millie says to me over the increasing noise of the crowd. My dad has had a good race but this time my focus is on Lando.

"He deserves this so much Mil. I'm gutted I can't celebrate at the podium with him" listening to the commentary around the track I'm on my feet as Lando takes the last corner and flies over the finish line "ahhh get in Lando! I'm fucking buzzing!" Hugging Millie I can't take the smile off my face, my emotions are all over the place "he's a fucking race winner Mil!"

"Yes Lando!" As the girls and I celebrate together I'm hoping no one realises who I am. I hope people around us just think we're four British girls celebrating a British win.

"He's fucking done it Mil" all I want is to run to Lando as I watch the podium celebrations but I know I can't. I watch from my place on the balcony unable to take the grin off my face. As I make my way back through the paddock I turn when I hear my name from that all too familiar voice.

"Lucía! I'm a race winner baby!" Lando comes barrelling towards me his arms going around my waist and I'm lifted off my feet as he spins me around. My arms go around his neck matching the grin on his face.

"Congratulations Lando. I'm so happy for you" standing the way we are in the paddock feels incredibly intimate for being public but right now I don't care. If Lando wants my time he can have it.

"I really want to kiss you right now"

"So kiss me. I won't stop you" the words barely leave my lips before Lando's lips are on mine. The cameras and the people around us don't matter to me. My parents know something is going on and they won't find out through the media, that's all that matters to me. The kiss is intense and I can tell Lando is pouring all of his emotions into the kiss "go and celebrate with your team and call your family. I'll see you later" kissing Lando once more I peel myself away from him wanting to stay with him but I know he has media to do before he's free to fully celebrate. Letting Lando go no one can take the smile off my face.

[sequinsmile-x]

One Shots (T-Z)

A list of standalone one shots that do not form part of a series. Please check here for series you might be looking for

Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too - Emily and Aaron's love story, and how they never let go of each other's hand. (Young Hotchniss)

Tailspin - They only just got married and she might lose him. AKA the one where Aaron and Emily are in a car accident on the way home from eloping.

Tapestry - It was just a picture, but she wanted it to be perfect.

Tardy - They were running late.

Tethered - Emily and Aaron bring their baby girl home for the first time.

Timeless - Emily and Aaron go to the beach. Based on the photos Thomas Gibson posted of him with a surfboard, sending the fandom feral. (Smut)

The Aftermath - She loved her life, she really did, but there were times when the 'what-ifs' were heavier than usual.

The Beholder - She knew she was being unreasonable, but she couldn’t help it. AKA the one where Emily is very pregnant, and feeling very insecure.

The City's Asleep - A sleepless night changes everything between Emily and Aaron.

The Cycle - Aaron finds out that Emily never learnt how to ride a bike, and decides to do something about it.

The Darkest Night - Emily has Lasik surgery to correct her vision, Aaron looks after her.

The Darnedest Thing - No one knows Emily and Aaron are together yet, not even Jack. Until he sees them kissing each other goodbye the evening before pasta night.

The Final Say - Emily wants to put the Christmas tree up in mid-November. Aaron does not. It's a good thing Emily is an expert at getting her husband to see her point of view. (Smut)

The Go-Between - Aaron and Emily both get hurt. Dave is tasked with looking after them at the hospital.

The Greatest - Aaron loves Emily more than he ever thought was possible, but he knows she could do better, and he dreads the day she'll figure that out too.

The Greatest Gift - It's Emily's birthday, and she spends it with the Hotchners.

The Hook of Your Splendour - The moment they arrived at the New York field office she felt the initial pull in her belly. Something she’d refused to call jealousy at first, even though she knew that's what it was from the start.

The Light in the Morning - Somewhere along the way, they became each other's safe space.

The Monster Mash - Halloween is a big deal in Emily and Aaron's house, especially because it also happens to be their daughter's birthday.

The Name of the Game - Emily and Aaron are having twins, a fact they decide not to share when they tell the team she is pregnant.

The Past Coming Back With the Light in the Morning - It was strange to think he’d spent his life chasing the violence he’d desperately tried to escape as a kid.

The Penthouse of Your Heart - All they wanted was a weekend away just the two of them, but as always life wasn't quite as simple as that.

The One You Reached For - She’d never believed in fate, had never allowed herself to, but in the soft moments at the end of a long day when she sat with Aaron in his living room, a glass of wine in hand as Jack slept just down the hall, she let herself wonder if maybe everything she had endured had led her to him. 

The Ties that Bind - She couldn't lose him like this.

The Waiting Game - Their jobs were difficult and they faced death more often than most people, but this was the first time she could have genuinely lost him since they got together and she hates it. For a moment, a very brief moment, she hates him for it too.

The Wreckage of You - The comments from their friends that she knows were intended as playful had chipped away at her biggest fear of all, the pieces of it now laying at her feet. He was too good for her, and it would only be a matter of time before he figured it out too.

Threads of Gold - She puts the ring back onto its chain, and slips it over her head before tucking it back into her shirt. She presses the cool metal against her skin and closes her eyes, blowing out a shaky breath from lungs that felt stuffed with grief. She wasn’t Emily Prentiss here. Emily Prentiss was dead.

Time Went on For Everybody Else - Despite how much he would miss the place he learnt how to be part of a family again, he found himself kneeling on the ground where his blood had once marked the carpet, his eyes fixed on the spot where he had almost lost his life.

To End Up With You - Emily has a job interview and is nervous. Aaron helps her through it.

Took a Tour of the Stars - It happens quickly. A glint of the knife, a familiar grunting sound from her husband, and the flash of red against his shirt that spreads quickly. She barely has time to react before the men are gone with their belongings and Aaron slumps against the wall, his hand pressing into his lower abdomen as his blood spills out onto the ground.

Tranquillity - He was by the book, she knew that, that had already bent the rules a little for her anyway, letting her chase a lead over Matthew’s death that he was sure was nothing at first. He had to draw the line somewhere, even for her, even though he’d tear his heart out of his chest if she asked him to.

Trust - In which Aaron and Emily are trying to buy a house, and he says some things he shouldn't when she offers to use her trust fund.

Vulnerability - They’d fallen pregnant quicker than they’d anticipated, and despite the smell of Aaron’s cologne and coffee turning her stomach, everything seemed ok. Then they found out Emily was pregnant with twins.

Warpath - Emily decides to surprise her boyfriend, but a misunderstanding might ruin things forever. A Young Hotchniss one shot.

Warrior - She was going to make sure he was ok. Then she was going to kill him.

We're Simply Meant to Be - Emily looks after Jack, and he asks her a question she isn't expecting.

Wildflowers - He’d brought her wildflowers. A bouquet made up of poppies, daises, lavender and primrose, but they weren’t real. They were made of Lego. Emily and Aaron go on their first date

Wise - Aaron and Emily's 4-year-old daughter wants to go as the infamous demon clown from It for Halloween, but a bout of chicken pox ruins her plans.

What's in a Name - When she comes back home, everything around her fragile and breakable, the life that had once been her solid foundation shaking beneath her feet, she barely thinks about it. Right up until she starts to date Aaron, and he calls her ‘love’ too.

Wrapped Up in Love - Three Christmases in the life of the Hotchner family.

Yield - She knows he’s wavering, something she’d counted on as she watched Penelope force a third glass of punch into his hands only twenty minutes ago. He was always desperate for her, but anytime he was drinking his ability to hide it was diminished. AKA the one where Emily and Aaron hook up at Quantico's annual 4th July party, despite the fact no one knows they are together.

You Could Stay - He showed her that he loved her every day, and she thought that would be enough for her. But when it came down to it, it wasn’t. She wanted to hear it, to have the confirmation she hadn’t known she’d needed until she didn’t get it.  Emily tells Aaron that she loves him, but he doesn't say it back.

You Drew Stars Around My Scars - Emily hadn't thought about the scar on her chest in a long time, but after an impromptu conversation with Derek, it is all she can think about.

You're Gonna Go Far - It wasn't any easier even though they'd been through this once before with Jack. AKA - the one where Aaron and Emily's eldest daughter goes to college.

[stusbunker]

Ask game for writers: Share your five favorite lines you've ever written (can be from the same piece or multiple pieces) and then send this to other writers you admire 🤍

This is incredibly hard. I am my own worst critic and because something in all of that was worth remembering? I have the worst memory. Like, I cannot memorize poems or even music (when I played) so I have to copy and paste and ask for help from people who have read my stuff because I don't even know what's worth regurgitating. But thank you for sending this way back when.

from Ch. 13 (or 16 on AO3) of Known:

So, you tumbled over the edge with Dean, black eyes shining with the morning sun as it pierced through the polyester curtains. There was no feeling greater, no raw unsurfaced need left unfilled like this. To be seen and accepted, just as you are. All your faults and deceptions and stupid mantras appreciated alongside the best of you. To be known, inside and out.

But it wasn’t him. This wasn’t the Dean you loved, it wasn’t the version you met in Hell and it certainly wasn’t the hunter CC had fallen for either. It twisted your stomach until all that was left of the momentary triumph was the sour aftertaste of regret. The sensation of everything you had ever wanted, laid out before you, just to have it sullied with something as feeble and as human as this. It hurt more than the years without him. Stung more than the months hiding in her shadow, the weeks that she was lost to you and the random moments of her clawing at you from inside her thoughts.

But that didn’t stop you.

Because if what he had become chose you, it was the best you were going to get.

2. from Smoking Spirits on the Roof

They hold each other’s gaze, ignoring the dwindling crowd and even the rumble of the Impala’s engine as it pulls up beside them on the curb. Cas’ family is climbing into a beat-up van that’s parked in a loading zone. But neither of them really registers any of it. Because even in the darkness, Dean’s green locks on to Cas’ blue and holds tight, like spring leaves reaching towards an afternoon sky.

3. from The Crumbling Difference Between Wrong and Right

She left him often. In big ways and small. He didn’t always notice, and she never really meant to, but it stung all the same. Sam had grown from instability, on resourcefulness and strategy. She grew like a wildflower in a manicured lawn, beautiful in an out-of-place kind of way; defiant in her radiance. He didn’t know if she was coming home until she did. Then, she didn’t.

(^^^ That is probably the best opening I have ever written. Or ever will.)

4. from Ch. 9 of A Gentlemen's Agreement

Dean let himself relax, let the whiskey and conversation work into his muscles and set his worries aside. They talked like the old days and about the old days. Those in between years after high school and before anyone was ready to face responsibility. When half their friends went to college, they had just kept on working. After another hour, Jo leaned back in her chair and started scrutinizing him once again.

“You know how I know you’re happy with what’s his name?” Jo teased.

“Beh— I didn’t tell you, fuck! Benny, his name is Benny. Goddamnit Joanna Beth,” Dean cursed through a chuckle; more details dragged out of him than he had planned on.

Jo cocked her head and considered the name.“Benny, right. You wanna know how I know?” Jo pushed.

“Fine, how?” Dean held up his hand, beckoning for her to hit him with her response.

“Because this is about the time of night you start giving me the lazy once over. But not tonight,” Jo proclaimed, chin out condescendingly. She had him, every few years they’d find themselves back in each other’s beds, for a night or a weekend and then they’d move on. He always thought of her as his home, his starting point. But maybe they weren’t the same thing at all.

“You still look good, Jo,” Dean replied, trying to save face.

“That’s not what I meant, Dean. Besides, I know!” Jo snarked, straightening her spine and tossing her hair over her shoulder. Dean couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore and it spilled out over a toothy grin, making Jo almost choke on her drink. God, Dean felt like anything was possible. That life was good. 

After the hysterics had calmed down, Dean exhaled. “Thanks, Jo. I needed this.”

“You sure did, nobody else was gonna hand you your ass so kindly,” Jo agreed, standing and taking the bottle and Dean’s glass with her to the counter that held the sink. He whined comically, but knew her timing was right. She leaned back and smirked.

5. from the very end of A Misery of Our Own Making

        In a way it’s fitting it’s Dean driving me back and not Sam. He was the one who coaxed my name out of me to begin with, practically played matchmaker that first night, years ago. The once mischievous pride in his eyes is gone, replaced with regret and a tired sadness that makes me think this isn’t the only farewell caravan they’ve done together. 

       I try not to guess how many of those were actually funeral processions. Because I don’t want to be grateful for this, an amputee has enough to process without the thought of infection returning. I know Sam is doing what he thinks is best.

       I wouldn’t love him if he wasn’t a good man. 

       It would hurt a hell of a lot less though.

Okay, folx, let me see your favorite lines or passages of your writing! @lastactiontricia @rockhoochie @thoughtslikeaminefield @brrose-apothecary @there-must-be-a-lock @littlegreenplasticsoldier

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Hi!! Survivor Blues?? 👀

Hi Angie!! I hope you're having a great week so far. Thank you so much for sending this ask. I am so sorry that it took me forever and a day to answer it.

I know that it's been a long time since I've updated Survivor Blues, but it is literally always on my mind. When I first started writing it I pretty much made peace with the fact that it was going to take a long time to write. I have a very specific idea of how I want it to turn out, and I know I won't be happy unless it's as close to that as possible. So I do apologize for taking long breaks between updates, but I promise it is for the good of the story and I hope it pays off in the long run.

The next part that I will be posting for SB is another of the shorter alternate POV pieces, and the first bit of Joel's POV that we get. It's about halfway done, and I'm hoping to have it up before next weekend. It's called Dead Wood, and here's a little snippet:

By the time Joel got home after a quick stop at the clinic, it was past seven, the house - and Ellie’s garage - standing dark and empty against the beginnings of night. 

She must be out with friends. Good. 

It had taken a few years, but he was finally in a place where her absence didn’t immediately put him on edge. When they first settled into the house on Rancher Street, Joel would insist that Ellie stay at Tommy and Maria’s anytime he was gone overnight. Even the walls and the close knit community couldn’t fully satisfy that need to know that she was safe then. But now a note stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet telling him where she’d gone was more than sufficient. 

Which was exactly what he found when he entered the kitchen. Plucking the piece of paper from the fridge door and leaning against the counter, he read the girl’s hastily scrawled words. 

Joel, 

Not sure when you’re getting back but I might not be here when you do. Staying with some friends tonight and tomorrow. I’ll be home on Tuesday. Movie night - don’t forget!

-Ellie 

He chuckled to himself and shook his head. Like I’d ever forget movie night, kiddo. 

Thank you again for asking about this story!! :)

[toxicshipsincorporated]

I went thrifting this saturday. I rarely get to thrifting these days because I work two jobs during the week (im usually hustling from 7a - 10p) so on the weekends I take the time to check out the places that I never get to check out. so I go to this one place that I rarely frequent just because they run pretty expensive by thrift standards (im talking $20 bucks for a dress and $13 for a shirt). I've paid those prices before though and thats because the owners told me 100% of their proceeds goes back into the community (buying families used cars, paying peoples' rent etc.). They are also church affliated which did give me pause but they seemed like good local people, invested in their comminity.

So I went there this past Saturday. I saw a couple things I wanted to get, two pieces of clothing and an old typewriter (I have one at home and I've been wanting to get another as a gift for a friend who admired mine last time we visited). When ringing me up, I asked about the price of the typewriter. The owner (the wife) immediately whipped out her phone and looked up the going price and told me she would give it to me for $100 which was a steal (look...im not a professional but I know that in pristine condition, no way this typewriter would go for that much, and this one needed a lot of work). I knew she was taking me for a run so I said I would just take the clothing and she dropped the price to $50 for the typewriter and the clothes. I told her I would take the typewriter $50 and I would pay for the clothing as well, so $75 in total. She thanked me for being generous ( I just didnt feel comfortable with bargaining when the money would be going towards my community).

She then tells me, "we are planning to go on vacation for christmas so every bit helps."

This is a weird thing to say because the last time I was here, I was told that the two "owners" (husband and wife) wete retired and volunteered at the store. All the money went into keeping the store running and to a community fund. Weird.

Anyway, before she can finish ringing me up a little haole girl asked her about the price of an item. She asked if she could help them first and I was in no rush so I just began to browse. And then this is where it get extremely fucked.

This woman proceeds to go on this rant to this haole couple, their young daugher standing between them, about how all the Palestinians deserve to die. And how its very telling that the "gays and bis" are backing Palestine because we are also "children of the dark." She then went on to say, "send all the gays to Palestine so they can get tortured and raped by the muslims that they love so much." And if that wasnt enough, she told this couple, "they want me to be sad because they are killing the babies? You have to! If the exterminator didn't burn up the neat and eggs, you'll just get roaches again."

Like....wtf. I immediately noped the fuck out of there. Just literally turned and walked out. Got in my car and drove off. But not before hearing the haole couple enthusiasically agreed and praise god in the same breath.

I also found out that despite this woman and her husband positioning and posturing as being locals, they are from the US continent and have no connection to our community and that they frequently use the funds from the store for their own trips, to pay for their children's college and trips, etc.

Fucking wild dude.

[something-tofightfor]

RACHAEL, IT'S AFTER MIDNIGHT. Happy birthday lovely!! I hope your day is as super cool and sweet as you are, you deserve it 💕

^ imagine that's me & you, taking bday shots.

Important sleepover stuff, though.

First of all, what are your plans for this weekend? I hope fun foods, drinks and good company are in order.

Secondly, would you rather go on an art museum date with Marcus Pike, or a night out with Frankie and the TF boys - one of Benny's fights followed by pool/darts at a dive bar?

Lastly, for a mini prompt how about tent camping with Joel?

Sending you all the bday hugs and love!!

Thank you Hayley! (What kind of shots are we doing? No tequila or Jameson for me please and thank you but anything else is fair game - also can Pedro do a shot with us?)

I am going to see my family tomorrow (today) and my stepmom usually gets me an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen. I haven't decided what I want for dinner though - that'll be a gametime decision.

Either or would be a lot of fun, I think. I feel like going to an art museum with someone like Marcus that could talk about the pieces we're looking at would elevate the experience 1000000%. I appreciate art, but know nothing about it at all, so to get the true experience, I would need to attend with someone that could keep things interesting and explain what the hell it is I'm looking at and why it's significant. Also I wanna hold hands with Marcus as we walk past paintings and sculptures and weird things that are behind velvet ropes.

But going out with the TF guys is much more my scene. Cheap beer, an amped up crowd, music, me pretending I don't know how to shoot pool so Frankie would "help"? The guys in that group (not Tom) seem like they would be so much fun in a relaxed setting when Operation Dumbass wasn't on the table, and I'd love to find out. I have never seen a fight in person, so that might be a lot of fun, too - especially to see how amped up all of them get supporting their friend.

And tent camping with Joel? We're gonna go with an AU for this one because I think that tent camping in the apocalypse would be a horrible plan (and both of you wouldn't be able to sleep at the same time because someone would need to keep watch)

So.

You and Joel and Sarah go camping one weekend while she's on summer break - taking 2 separate tents so she can have her privacy and you and Joel can have some, too - even though you're going to be very respectful of the fact that his teenage daughter is sleeping literally feet away with only cloth between you and keep it to a handjob at most once you're sure she's asleep.

He'd try to impress you by setting up the tents himself, but it turns out that Sarah is much more skilled at it than either of you, and by the time she's done with hers, you and Joel have settled back at the picnic table and just watch her, telling her that she's more than welcome to do yours, too. (And she does.)

The three of you would spend the first night around the campfire, roasting marshmallows with music playing quietly, and after Sarah goes to bed, you and Joel stay up a while longer, a thin blanket wrapped around your shoulders while you stargaze - the sky littered with stars because you're finally far enough away from Austin that you don't have to worry about the lights.

[silkflovvers]

hiiii hope u get to relax this weekend bud! so about that hot modern au diluc..... tell me why you hc him as aroace and did he have any past relationships before he figured it out? love knowing ppls sexuality hcs! please draw more modern diluc in classy sweaters and cute cardigans too btw... i want to show him off at pedigree show

I started a draft of this response on Friday and wrote a whole dang essay, so I am going to go back and make it less chaotic and a little more clear and concise jhskjdfh But thank you for sending in this ask ;u; I was happily playing with kitties and stuffing my face with good food all weekend, so it was a very nice break!

As for Modern AU Diluc, I've always liked the HC that he's asexual or demisexual. I don't see him as someone with much sexual attraction because I see a lot of aspects of his personality that me and many of the other asexual people I have known throughout my life all have shared. The aromantic headcanon is actually just for this specific AU! I have a 2nd modern AU where he is still asexual, but homoromantic! That AU is deep in my google docs and hasn't seen the light of day on social media yet, though. So it's very top secret shush shush lol

As for my thoughts for this specific AU, I thought he suited the aroace headcanon the most. I thought it made him a more compelling character within the story and modern setting and even made some of his relationships more complex to write and plan out. And I like a complex challenge when it means I get to pick apart a character's brain, even if I'm the one who technically gave them the brain since it's an AU....dissecting my own creation, if you will.

Since you asked more about his backstory, I'll leave some more info under the cut so I'm not clogging up people's dash ＊*♡( ⁎ᵕᴗᵕ⁎ ）

*Quick list of warnings for this AU before you proceed:

Crepus is dead in this AU, so there is technically past character death that is referenced often in regards to Diluc

Crepus died in a car accident and this is mentioned at least once or twice

There is past Diluven! They are not dating during the part of the story I've got the characters set in as of right now, but it is mentioned and integral information to a lot of the character's connections and backstories.

There are little hints that Diluc picked up bad habits after his fathers death and that he did not treat himself kindly. This behavior is comparable to self harm, so if that bothers you in the slightest, please proceed with caution. It is only vaguely referenced and never stated or explained outright. Man was lacking that self preservation mindset in-game when he ran off to avenge his father, so he also lacks it here, just in a different form

Kaeya and Diluc are portrayed as adopted brothers in this AU

Before I get into his back story, I'll give you his basic profile so you've got a little background info for him:

Character Profile:

Age: 29 Gender: Male Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Aromantic, Asexual Education: Bachelors of Science Business Management Occupation: Bar Owner, Bartender, Community Garden Volunteer (President) Relationship Status: Single Extra Info: Diagnosed with PTSD and Major Depression, Kaeya's adopted brother (estranged), has a full back piece tattoo done by Xiao.

You get some of that info from This art I posted before, but I actually made some small changes to the AU since I drew that! Sorry for any discrepancies. You should see the chaos that is my spreadsheet of character info for this AU alone. It nearly crashed my phone once just by opening it.

I'll start with the summary/TL;DR and expand a bit further on some parts just because I can!

TL;DR of how he found out he was AroAce:

Diluc dated Venti for convenience in high school, but never felt an attraction to him or anyone else.He only dated Venti to alleviate the pressure Jean felt from the rumors that she and DIluc were dating when they only saw each other as very close friends.  He figured he'd eventually develop feelings for either Venti or someone else, but never did. He went through Trauma™ and officially left the main city in Mondstadt to find himself after the death of his father. He later found a trustworthy therapist who introduced him to the possibility of being AroAce.

Expanded Explanation:

In high school, Diluc watched many of his friends develop crushes and date and chase after love interests. He never really understood it. When people would ask him if he had feelings for anyone, he never had an answer. He didn't feel the need to date or flirt. The idea of being romantic with anyone quite frankly felt strange and foreign to him. He cared for his friends deeply and developed strong bonds, but he never considered any of them to be romantic in nature. Many people mistook his friendship with Jean as romantic due to how close they were.

The rumors put pressure on them both to become an item even if they didn’t have romantic feelings for each other. To relieve some of that pressure, Diluc did his best to try to find someone he felt comfortable returning affection, albeit insincere, to. So many people approached him with such sincerity, it felt wrong. So, when a short, bubbly upperclassman approached him with an offhanded flirt, he flirted back. It was a shaky attempt, but he could tell the star of the theater music department wouldn’t take things too seriously and there was nothing to lose. So, he got closer to Venti and asked him out. He wasn’t expecting they’d become the sweethearts of the school, nor that they’d be voted prom kings and cutest couple in the school year book. What was meant to be an unserious relationship to relieve pressure on himself and his dear friend, became a tiresome obligation.

Venti was two years older, and graduated the year after they started dating. Unfortunately, Diluc was still stuck pretending. His last year put more strain on him than he’d like to admit and it became so evident, even Jean began to worry. Before she could ask if he was alright and offer help, tragedy struck.

While driving he and his father to a promotional event for the family business, an SUV lost control on the highway and sent DIluc and his father’s car flying off the road and into the forest at the bottom of the incline beside it. Crepus suffered a severe injury and died before the ambulance or Kaeya arrived. Diluc blamed himself and the SUV that had driven off after the impact.

Tha took a toll on his mental state. The strain of pretending to be like everyone else proved too much on top of the new issues that instantly popped up after the death of his father. As the eldest son, just freshly 18, he was given the reins to the family business. He had to pick up the work in his father’s absence until things could be settled. He also had his finals and college applications to worry about. Venti’s pestering and unwanted advances tested Diluc’s limits and eventually sent him over the edge.

He broke up with Venti at a school dance he had to attend as president of the student council the day before his father’s funeral. Kaeya told him something (I won’t cover in this post) that shattered his hope for the future. In a blind rage he won’t be able to fully remember years later, he kicked Kaeya out and was left alone in a big empty house, save for the handful of staff that still cared for the house.  After that, he simply stopped going to class. He did everything in his power to track down the man that killed his father, that the police still had yet to catch. 

Within the time he spent obsessively searching for the man, Adelinde and Elzer were doing their best to talk him down and gently guide him towards getting his GED and attending a nearby college in the hopes of helping him back into a stable routine to get his mind off the grief he clearly was not processing in a healthy manner.

At some point, Diluc relented and did as they had asked. His rage simmered out and was replaced with numbness. He would not remember the years of rage or the time spent getting his degree due to his own specific response to the trauma he endured. He took on the family business for a year before he realized it was best to leave it to the people that knew more than he did and the people he knew his father had trusted to keep things running. He stepped down from the company and gave the position to Elzer. Though sad to see him go, the Dawn Winery staff were happy to see him leave to find himself and hopefully work through the grief he’d felt for all these years. He left Mondstadt proper to live in a smaller college town. It was where Jean had gone to pursue her degree and now her Masters. Once there, he opened up a small bar that quickly grew in popularity. He had direct contact with the most well known winery in Mond, so of course he had the highest quality alcohol. 

As popularity grew, he was able to hire more staff, leaving him with more and more free time. In the mental state he was in, that free time wasn’t a good thing. Bad habits formed back in college and he still was not coping in healthy ways. As his free time increased, his mental state got worse. He thought getting out and finding something to do would help, so he joined as a volunteer at the community gardens. It was something he could do to distract himself and speak with others in a relatively stress free environment. There he met Zhongli, the person who tended to the beehives in the garden. Zhongli was kind, patient and understanding and very quickly became someone Diluc could call a friend. It helped a lot, the gardens and the new faces, until winter came and there wasn’t much to do when it was too cold for most plants to grow.

It reached a point where Jean was checking in on him frequently. She could tell things were bad. Feeling guilty for worrying his dearest friend so much, he finally reached out for help. With Zhongli and Jean’s assistance, he found a trustworthy therapist who helped guide him towards a healthier path and helped him through his emotions and thoughts. She introduced him to the concept of both Aromantic and Asexual identities. Having that support and direction helped improve his mental state and kept him from dropping back into the worst of his lows. Knowing he wasn’t broken in some way for not searching for romance or intimacy helped quite a bit. It wasn’t so much the label as it was knowing there were other people like him.

He also met Rosaria, who became a regular at his bar. The two later found out they were both Aromantic and bonded quite a bit over the fact. He came to rely on her as a more quiet and subtle source of support and understanding. Zhongli also became much closer to him and revealed they were genderfluid. The concept was somewhat foreign to Diluc, but it opened up his eyes to how diverse humans were in both their identities and presence. Zhongli then introduced him to Xiao, a young man they had taken in after he was in a terrible accident at a young age. Xiao dealt with chronic pain and the heavy guilt of being the only survivor of that accident that killed his closest friends. He and Diluc got along well. Further down the road, Diluc asked Xiao to do his back tattoo, trusting him with a design that symbolized his journey towards healing. Xiao, though he wouldn't admit it outright, was honored to have the bar owner's respect and freedom to design and complete the tattoo.

Now, Diluc is surrounded by and even more diverse community that helps him through the healing and self discovery process.

Thank you for asking me about him and this AU in general :> I have a bunch of google docs with more of his and the other character's stories, but I'll save them for another time, since that wasn't exactly what you asked for ahahaha whoops. Can't wait to draw more of him soon!

Hope you're having a lovely day!

[talesfromasnarkylisa]

Lacey: Chapter 9

James: August X, 2023

Of course I didn’t have time to actually edit the draft Lacey gave to me. Not that I was planning on doing so. Ideally, she’d pester me over it, so I could have something to use against her. If worse came to worst and she decided to actually send it to the editors, they’d laugh her off. As for me…I could just claim it was a misunderstanding.

It had been a few days since Lacey sent me the messy piece. I hadn’t even touched it. Between a nasty gig at work from a very picky set of wedding guests, several other pieces to go over from Music Refined hopefuls, keeping all my social media accounts afloat and relevant, all while ensuring I could also live offline, where would I find the space?

My friends were starting to get worried about me. Darian texted me multiple times asking if I was okay. I left him on read. Corianna offered to help me go over some of the pieces. Of course, this was against the rules. I couldn’t say yes.

Even Inez - who I had only known for a few weeks - wanted to know what the fuss was all about.

Inez Cortez (Thu, Aug 10, 7:17 PM): Is everything fine? I haven’t heard from you in a few days. What’s going on?

I decided to send a quick reply to all of my friends’ concerned messages. It essentially told them that I was overloaded with work and that I got far too exhausted to go virtually anywhere by the time it was done. Given the nature of my beta reader tasks, they understood. There was no way in hell I’d tell any of them what I wanted to do to Lacey.

Fortunately, I was able to make an exception for Darian. I had a little time to squeeze in during any evening in the next few days. I messaged him to ask if he could come over to my apartment. He said yes.

Saturday Evening

I was cleaning up my workspace to prepare for Darian coming over. Some parts of my Lacey plans were written in a few notebooks I kept. Needless to say, I wouldn’t want anyone to find out about them - let alone Darian.

All of a sudden, I got a notification from my phone’s Discord app. I was still logged into my Archie J. account there. Expanding the notification revealed a message from none other than Lacey fucking Hannah.

Lacey Hannah (08/12/23, 7:19 PM): Hey Archie

Sorry if this sounds rude, but I just want to follow up on something. It’s been a few days since you promised to help with that mediocre draft I got from Oscar. I haven’t heard anything from you since then.

Are you still planning to work on it or not? Because I can finish it myself or send as-is with my current edits. I could also trash it in a worst-case scenario. I understand life can get busy. You doing okay?

Thanks in advance. :D

Ugh, I thought, that smiley face emoticon.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave her with no explanation as to if there was even progress on the draft or not. Beyond being dickish, this sort of neglect would just look bad on me instead of her. So I did send her an update.

Archer J (08/12/23, 7:23 PM): Hi Lacey.

Don’t worry about me, I’ve just been a bit overloaded at work for the past few days. It’s the weekend now so I should be fine.

Yes, I’ll finish touching up the draft soon. I think it’ll be ready by tomorrow. 

I apologize for the slow progress, by the way. Good luck!

Time to commit to the draft now, I sighed. At least I get to hang out with Darian first.

Just as I logged out of Discord, there was a knock on the door. I looked through the peephole. It was Darian. I opened the door.

“Hey James!” Darian grinned, flustered.

“Hello,” I greeted him. “What’s up?”

“Doing fine,” Darian told me. “The self-checkout machines at the supermarket finally got fixed. Great for me, since I don’t have to deal with as many angry customers. And you?”

I went to get some water. 

“Yeah, I’m…good,” I responded. 

“Are you sure?” Darian doubted.

I couldn’t let him doubt me.

“Of course!” I forced a full smile. Boy, was I not used to smiling like that.

“If you say so,” said Darian. “It’s been a while since we’ve actually talked.”

“Sorry about that,” I answered. “Work’s just been really busy. But hey, gotta make money for university tuition fees.”

I took a sip from my cup.

“So relatable!” Darian exclaimed. 

Is it? I wondered. He only goes to SCSU. Not the Ivy League financial hell of Yale.

“I’ve missed you,” Darian stated. “It’s been forever since we last met!”

“Relax,” I nervously chuckled. “It’s only been less than two weeks.”

“Alright,” Darian lowered his voice. “Did you get accepted into Music Refined’s ranks?”

“Yeah-” I responded.

Darian smiled.

“That’s amazing!” he nearly hugged me. I backed off before he could.

“-as a beta reader,” I continued. “Not an official editor yet.”

“Still good,” Darian told me. “Anything else happening?”

I froze for a bit. There was no way I’d have been able to answer honestly. I spent too much time using Lacey, not to mention the sporadic yet continuing hate comments I got in private. So I just told Darian about the draft overload.

“Damn,” he said, “that must suck.”

“Eh,” I responded, “I’m getting used to it.”

For a brief moment, I felt a little guilty for lying. I ignored it.

(Wattpad version: https://www.wattpad.com/1487872328-lacey-chapter-9)

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Fuck To Make Up

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: Even though they had a child together, the reader and Fez have spent months away from one another. They were amicable when it came to their child and making sure she's healthy, but their friendship dwindled. One night after their baby goes to sleep, the reader and Fez have an eye opening conversation. And a leg spreading one too.

Warnings: Smut, 18+, swearing, angst.

A/n: Catch me naming their child Lily in all of my fics. This is based off of the genius @fezcossidepiece, "someone make a baby daddy fezco fic when y'all aren't together (anymore) but one day he comes to visit y'all baby and once she's asleep y'all confess how much you miss each other, then y'all fuck. hard."

I gotchu guys, leave it to me.

"Okay, babygirl, let's go see your daddy." I whisper, pressing a kiss to Lily's cheek as we make our way across the parking lot. It was Fez's weekend with her, my heart breaking in my chest as I climb the stairs, not wanting to hand her off just yet.

I was dumped yesterday- cheated on- my heart in sharp pieces that I was forced to pick up to maintain my daily life. My boyfriend- ex boyfriend- Mark, was a jerk; a jerk who Fezco never liked so I could only imagine that he would be relieved to hear that Mark was finally out of our daughters life. It was still hard nonetheless. Now I'm alone, no one to talk to or share my feelings with, no one to touch.

Fezco and I decided to call it quits two weeks after Lily was born which was about a year ago. We had been together since high school, close as close can be but then we found out we were pregnant and things just shifted. I knew that he would be a good dad simply based off of how he took care of Ash his whole life. And Ash ended up sort of okay- a bit homicidal and quick to shoot anyone who looks at him the wrong way- but a good kid nonetheless.

He was good throughout the pregnancy, being with me every step of the way but we realized quickly that we couldn't keep up just getting by. It would've taken a toll on Lily and we would've ended up hating each other over time. Now we would speak briefly when picking up or dropping Lily off, but that was it.

Fezco smiles softly at me, his eyes flickering down to the sleeping infant in my arms. She's quiet, her long eyelashes resting against her cheek as she snores, not a care or worry in the world. I must look terrible, my eyes red and dry, my cheeks stained with tears.

"You alright there, ma?" Fez asks, his eyebrows pulling together as he takes Lily from me, a whine leaving my lips at the distance between her and I. She's my best friend, my baby, and when I'm upset, she's the only one I want to be around. I just sniffle simply, taking a deep breath with I shrug.

"Just some personal stuff, I guess. Gonna miss lovebug, here." I reach out, my hand brushing over the top of Lily's head as a soft smile stretches over her lips. Fez just looks at me sadly before turning back to look into the apartment.

"You wanna come in?" He questions simply, my eyes widening at the offer. "C'mon, I haven't seen you this run down in a while." He laughs, my eyes rolling playfully as I nod hesitantly, stepping past him and into the apartment. I haven't been here in a while, but nothing seemed to be different. Still the same old decor and terrible wall paper that their grandma was keen on keeping up. "You want water or somethin'?" I shake my head, sitting down at the kitchen table as Fez watches me, bouncing Lily gently in his arms. He looks down at her fondly and sweetly, pressing his lips to the spot between her brows. "I'm gonna go put her to bed, uh, make yourself comfy." He sends me a simple smile, one that's more out of courtesy, the smile never reaching his eyes. I watch as he walks out of the room, my stomach swirling in anxiety at the thought of being alone with him, without Lily as a buffer, for the first time in a year. I would have to tell him about Mark, knowing that he'd probably be relieved. He didn't like when random people were around Lily in a grocery store let alone a whole other man being in her day to day life.

"You sure you don't need anything?" Fez reappears a moment later, his hand reaching up to nervously scratch the back of his neck. "Not really sure what to do in this type'a situation." He chuckles sheepishly, moving to sit next to me at the kitchen table.

"It's alright." I whisper, my hands fidgeting in my lap as I take a deep, shaky breath in. "Mark cheated on me. I found out yesterday." My cheeks warm in embarrassment as my eyes flicker away from him, waiting for the 'I told you so' speech. But he doesn't say anything, his jaw just grits, his brows pulling together as he sighs.

"You alright- fuck, sorry, 'course you're not." He laughs bashfully, rubbing a hand over the top of his head as I laugh tearily, reaching up to wipe my tears away.

"I just feel like shit." I chuckle, running a hand through my hair as he snorts.

"You look like it too-"

"Shut the fuck up." I reach across the table, slapping his arm as he chuckles, his gaze shy. Our interaction makes me smile, liking the back and forth banter that Fez and I always had. I don't know why breaking up drew this line between us, especially with a daughter, you'd think that we'd still be friends. It was always just too hard. "I don't know, sometimes I just don't wanna bother you with this shit. I know you don't like Mark- fuck, I barely liked Mark..." I trail off as he rolls his eyes at the mans name, visibly cringing. "I just didn't want to be alone all the time." I mutter sadly, biting at the inside of my cheek while my eyes train to a spot on the floor.

"You're not alone. Don't know who told you that but-" He cuts himself off with an incredulous laugh, shrugging his shoulders at me as my brows pull together. He looks at me, realizing that I meant what I said and that I truly feel alone. "You seriously tellin' me that you thought that just because we decided not to be together that we had to, like, hate each other?" He asks, leaning against the table as my eyes flicker down, avoiding his analytical gaze.

"It's just hard to act like we didn't date for almost four years. Like it's weird to be friends and move on with other people and have a kid together." I explain, his face falling as his head shakes simply.

"I haven't moved on." He replies simply, my lips parting in quiet shock. "You kind of just made the decision that we couldn't figure it out. Watched you move on with fucking Mark and hated it. Couldn't fucking stand the guy but couldn't stand to see you wit' anyone else." He admits lowly, his eyes lifting to look at my confused and shocked expression. He just stutters a bit, his cheeks flushing as he adjusts himself in his seat, realizing the weight behind his words. "Sorry, I don't mean to dump that on you- shit." He whispers, dragging his hand over his face as I clear my throat, all worries and concerns of Mark out the window at this new information. Did he really just casually say that he missed me?

"Fez, I-" I start but all words fall short as he stands. I watch him as he walks to my side of the table, bending down to quickly capture my lips in his. I gasp quietly, his hand resting against my cheek as he tilts my chin upwards with his thumb. My legs wobble as I stand, my arms winding around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to me, his free hand moving to grip my hip. His lips are heated against mine, the kiss messy and hot. It's almost as if no time had gone by, his hands knowing exactly what to do and his lips skillful against my own. "Fuck, Fez." I moan, my eyes fluttering shut as he presses sweet kisses against my cheek. "I missed you, god- we're such fucking idiots." I giggle breathlessly, my thighs clenching at the gruff laugh that leaves his swollen lips.

"You're the fucking idiot. I been here, waiting on my ass for you." His forehead rests against mine, a stupid grin on both of our lips. "I don't know how to politely ask for permission to fuck you so-"

"God, please just do it." I sigh, immediately thrown over his shoulder at my words. I giggle as I pound my fists playfully against his back, his hand slapping my ass. I moan at the feeling, watching as the tile turns into carpet, his bedroom door closing behind us. He tosses me onto the bed without another word, his hand pulling his shirt over his head. He stares at me, his eyes raking over every inch of my body.

"You know how long I been waitin' for you to come around? To be inside you again?" He asks, his flirty words dripping in arousal. His pupils are blown, lip tucked in between his teeth as he reaches down to hook his fingers in my sweatpants. “I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now." He admits with a shocked laugh, slipping my pants off of my body, tossing them to the floor behind him. He slips between my thighs, grinding against me in the process. I moan, my head thrown back as he chuckles, his lips dragging against my throat.

"Fez, you can take your time later. I will literally do anything if you just touch me." I plead, the air in my lungs escaping me completely as he stalls, his eyes dangerously mischievous as he smirks. "Yes, I said anything. Right now I just want to feel you inside of me." He nods quickly at my begging, pushing himself out of his pants as I reach down, slipping my hand between my thighs. He watches me with hooded eyes as my fingers dance over my clit, my back arching off the bed.

"Fuck, angel." He moans, batting my hand away as I whine, his thumb quickly replacing mine. "You can't even wait for me to fuck you senseless, can you?" He asks teasingly, my head spinning as he skillfully drags his thumb against me. He knew just what to do, what to do with his fingers, what to say. He's always known me from the inside out and he's proving that he still does.

His hands slip up my shirt as he leans over me, his hands kneading my breasts as my hips jump. My eyes flutter shut as I hear him shuffle out of his boxers, his tip dragging against me as I whine.

"Take a deep breath." He mutters against my lips, my chest rising in a heave. He slowly enters me, his worried eyes watching me as I hiss. "Good girl, spread your legs for me." He whispers, my thighs parting a bit as he nudges himself further inside of me. By the time he bottoms out, there's a thin layer of sweat coating both of our bodies. "Fuck- you're taking me so well." He groans, his hips pulling back to thrust into me. I cling to him as his thrusts grow in momentum, a blissed smile on my face.

"Missed feeling you inside of me." I grin, my nails digging into his shoulder as he smiles proudly.

"Yeah? I bet you thought of me when he was fucking you." His dirty words make me clench around him, knowing exactly what to say to drive me crazy. "I bet you would touch yourself thinkin' bout me fucking you nice and good." He was right, there were many times that I was left unsatisfied, my fingers slipping between my thighs as I pictured him between them.

"Fez-" He captures my lips in a heated kiss, his hand traveling down between us to rub circles against my clit. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you're gonna forget that douchebags name." He grunts, my high quickly approaching as he pounds into me, his whole body moving to lean upwards. His fingers leave my clit, both of his hands pulling me to him by my thighs as he slips in and out of me. The angle is new and very much appreciated, his thumb returning over my wet clit, his eyes looking down at the movement.

"Fuck baby, so hot." He groans, his head dipping a bit as he chases his high, well aware that I was barreling towards the edge too. "Wanna feel you cum around me." He whispers, his lip tucked between his teeth as my breasts bounce, my hands reaching up to knead them, my head thrown back in pleasure.

"Please, Fez- fuck I'm coming!" I cry out, my hips twitching as I fall over the edge, my thighs trembling beside him as his orgasm hits him. He twitches inside of me, the feeling of him filling me up making my head spin with satisfaction. It was a feeling that I missed over the last few months, thankful that he got the balls to tell me he missed me.

He falls on top of me with a laugh, staying inside of me as he softens. I rub his heaving back, my fingers tracing along the freckles that litter his skin. My lips press against his shoulder, my eyelids heavy.

"I love you, I missed you, I want you." He whispers against my cheek, my heart warming at his words.

"You've got me."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @officiallyunofficialperson @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @heyaitsklaudia

Euphoria Taglist: @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx@ssprayberrythings @username-lols @pessimisticbiitch @urmomsangel @rosepetalsparks@bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e

Fezco Taglist:@fudgemesteveharrington @hy-my-name-is-riley @trinbby13 @squishiejiminiee @marvelsbiatch @chaoticevilbakugo

[hyuckssunchip]

Endless Blackmail (VI)

Pairings: Jeno x Reader, ft. Jaemin, Renjun, Mark, Haechan

Words: 4K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), SMUT, fingering, (female y/n), voyeurism, dirty talk, vanilla, raw, no condom

Synopsis:

A weekend away at the cabin, with Jeno’s opportunity to, well to simply put it, do whatever he wants with you, how long will it take the other boys to cave into their personal desires?

masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 

@sunflowerhae @kyngaji @rosyb7aby @hyuckstunaroll @sunshinedhyuck @punnshine @jeongyoonoh14 @jhornytrash @milkyway-vxm @resceluwu @bockhyun @ahtisa02 @w0nuuu @hiraarri @ariiiistaff @parkthothwa8 @meowniee @hyukafairy @mingiandbaconjam @baehaechannie ✨ @n0hyuck​✨  @lauraneuuh​ @maliakealoha

“How was the trip?” Your sister asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you as she popped a strawberry in her mouth. 

“It was nice.” You stole a piece, settling into the seat next to her, dropping your bag heavily on the floor.

“Just nice? Did you get a peek at Jeno for me? His abs are to die for.”

“Shut up.” You mumbled, head rolling back towards the ceiling. 

“Uh oh. What happened?” 

“Nothing, it was just a long trip, you know?” You bent back down, tugging at the straps of your duffle bag before heading up the stairs. 

“Oh come on, I want the tea!” She followed you halfway up the stairs, “What happened?”

“Just–” You sighed, turning back to send her a pointed look, “Tell you what, I’ll let you know when I’ve figured it out.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You let the door shut tight once you made it into your room, leaving the back right by the door, not bothering to bring it in any further before flopping on the bed. 

God, your head was still whirring with the events of the past weekend, it was kind of unbelievable as it was. How were you going to face the boys now? Were you going to face them? 

And Jeno. 

God, what were you going to do about Jeno.

Sure, what you had over the trip was more than anything you could’ve hoped for, just weeks ago you were stuck pining after your best friend with a one-sided love. 

But was it still a one-sided love? Was there any hope Jeno was harboring even a little bit of feelings for you, or was it all physical and nothing more.

You didn’t even know what you would do if that was the case, how could you ever look at him the same, act the same around him?

You groaned, rolling over and shoving your face into your pillow. That was a tomorrow problem.

School was normal, well as normal as you can be after fucking your entire friend group.

You didn’t run into any of them until lunch time. You had seriously considered skipping lunch, opting to spend the time in your homeroom classroom by yourself, but on the way there you ran into Haechan.

“Where are you going? We were gonna do lunch outside today, the weather’s great!” Haechan grinned out, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you out where the others were waiting. 

It was obvious that your relationship with Haechan changed the most. It’s not like you weren’t friendly with the guy before, but he was definitely a lot friendlier after the trip. You weren’t sure if you liked it or not.

You could just make out Mark and Jeno just outside under the tree before stopping in your tracks. 

“I’m actually gonna drop off my books in my locker real quick, I’ll be out in a sec though.” 

Haechan let you out from under his arm, winking at you slyly before nodding and heading outside. 

Your locker wasn’t too far from where you were, just around the corner past a few classrooms. 

It was just after you had dumped the contents of your bag off that you overheard a conversation in the room beside you bearing, interestingly enough, your name.

But you wished you hadn’t ever stopped.

“So what are you gonna do with Y/N?”

“What do you mean?” You’d recognize this voice anyway, obviously Jeno.

“I mean, are you gonna date?” It was beginning to sound more and more like Jaemin.

“Date? Why?”

“I dunno, I just thought... after last weekend you guys seemed pretty close.”

“And?”

“You’re just gonna stay friends then?”

“Yeah. I mean we just fucked you know, it’s not gonna change the fact that she’s my best friend. That’s it.”

“I dunno Jeno, are you sure that’s it?”

“What are you implying?”

“You don’t like her more than a friend.”

“Dude. You fucked her too, you gonna date her?”

Tense silence filled the air. 

“See. Look Y/N and I are fine. Nothing’s gonna change.”

“Jeno.”

“No.”

There was a heavy sigh, though you couldn’t tell who it was from, you could assume it was from Jaemin.

“Whatever.”

The door swung open, coming too close for your liking, and a familiar face followed.

“Oh shit.” You were spot on, Jaemin bit his lip nervously as he stared back at you, freezing in his spot.

“Yeah.” You sent him a tight lipped smile, eyes already turning glossy as you nodded your head, telling him to keep going.

The door slammed shut quietly behind you, quite humorous considering the fact that in the next few seconds that room was going to be anything but quiet.

“Y/N?” Jeno jumped slightly as he almost ran into you on the way in, backing away slightly instinctively.

“Just a fuck huh?” You felt yourself heat up with anger, but a small pang in your chest told you that it hurt more than you hoped.

Jeno’s mouth parted slightly before turning flat, trying to ignore the look you were giving him, though he couldn’t quite tell if it was all anger, a small part of him hoped that there was something else. “Is that what this is about? How much did you hear?”

You stared back at him, words unnecessary to convey your feelings. 

He sighed taking your silence as answer enough, “You’re not just a fuck, you know that. You’re my best friend.” Jeno wasn’t lying, he was terrified of losing you over this, but he couldn’t help but hide it deep inside it, the fear of rejection being far greater. 

“Is this how you treat your friends?” You tried your best to keep your lip from wobbling, knowing that in any moment you could break, showing him the most vulnerable parts of you, and you weren’t sure you wanted that after the way he treated you.

“No- I just–”

“I know what you said, and I know what you mean Jeno. All I wanted to know is if that was what you really feel.”

Jeno couldn’t look you in the eyes, answer enough for you.

“Great. That’s fucking great. You know if I knew that this trip was going to lose me my best friend, I never would’ve gone.” You stormed past him, opening the door and shoving past the other four boys who were very obviously eavesdropping, having dropped everything to listen when Jaemin came running with news of gossip.

The longest time you had ever not spoken to Jeno was for four days (and a half) in the seventh grade. It was over something stupid now, nothing worth remembering, but you do remember it was the most painful four days (and a half) you had ever had. 

On the last day of your estrangement you found yourself on the doorstep of Jeno’s porch. You caved, just like you always did. And you craved him, craved anything that had to do with him.

But this time, it was Jeno that had found himself on your doorstep, a week and a half after the last time you had spoken.

Jeno didn’t like being weak, but more than that Jeno didn’t like the feeling of the whole you had left. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Can we talk a bit?”

"What’s there to talk about? You were pretty clear the last time I heard you.”

“You know that’s different, I wasn’t talking to you.”

“No, you were just talking about me, behind my back. It’s worse when you can’t even say it to my face. You know, I’m not this fragile broken little girl, you just tell me you don’t like me and I can handle it.”

“That’s not it–”

“Are you sure? Or is it just because I’m confronting you right now that you’ve decided to change your mind?”

“Y/N, your my best friend. Don’t do this.”

“Being your friend doesn’t mean shit when you treat them like shit.”

“I didn’t–”

“Look, I’m kinda busy.”

“And this isn’t going to take long.”

“Haechan’s coming.”

“What?” Jeno’s eyes flickered to yours with confusion, shaking slightly at the way you easily brushed him aside.

“Haechan’s gonna be here in five.”

“But–”

“Look, I just really need you gone right now.” You refuse to keep eye contact with him, knowing that it would probably hurt you more than it would him. 

It didn’t take much for you to push Jeno out the door, he wasn’t resisting at all. If Jeno didn’t want to leave, you wouldn’t have been able to make him, but it seemed like Jeno was having a difficult time comprehending what just happened. 

You didn’t even have time to resort your emotions before a knock on the door pulled you out of your reverie. Knowing that it was Haechan on the other side of the door, you just prayed that they hadn’t managed to run into each other in passing, God knows what Jeno would do to him.

“Hey there.” Haechan smiled, handing you a whole pineapple. “My mom taught me to never come without gifts.”

“Haechan, you brought a pineapple.”

“Yeah well, they were having a sale.”

You giggled softly, setting the fruit down on the counter before turning to face him. 

“Soooo, you wanna show me your room?” He asked, eager smile adorning his features as he backed towards the direction. 

“Wow, you get straight to the point, don’t you?” But you led the way nevertheless.

It was nearly the very moment that you entered the room that Haechan was all over you, walking you towards the bed sitting on the comforter with you between his legs. 

He ran his fingers up and down the back of your thighs for a moment, taking in the current situation before tossing all thoughts out the window. 

Haechan grinned cheekily, grabbing at your hips to pull you on top of him, hips rutting upwards to meet you. 

“God, you have no idea how bad I’ve missed you. No idea how many times I’ve dreamt of this, how many times I’ve jacked off to the memory of you sucking down on my cock.”

You hummed out, bending over to suck on his neck, emitting precious moans from him. His heavy petting on your backside moved up your waist, flattening his hand against your back so that you were pressed even closer to him.

Haechan let you continue for a few more minutes before pulling you away, only to latch onto your lips. Teasing you with little bites as he tugged against your lips. 

You whined, smiling slightly into his kiss, urging him to remove his shirt as you panted against him. 

He did so without a cent of hesitation, tugging at your shirt next, leaving you bare against his skin. 

“No bra?” He smirked, loving the way you heated up above him, nose digging into the valley of your breast. “I like it. Easy access.”

You scoffed as he buried deeper, mouth latching on to the soft mounds, making sure to leave purplish blotches as a reminder of the night. 

Grabbing a handful of his hair, you pulled him up to meet you again, needing a way to shut him up. Haechan groaned into your mouth, the grip on you growing tighter as his dick grew larger in his pants, the friction getting to him. 

“Come on.” He mumbled, standing up with your legs still wrapped around his waist. Stumbling a bit, you continued making out as he found your bedroom blindly, falling a bit as you landed with your back on the mattress.

He pulled your arms up above your head, locking them tight as he worked his way down your body, leaving wet trails of kisses. As he neared your pants he let go of your hands, which immediately found perch in his hair, stroking at the strands as he pulled down your clothes, leaving you in nothing but a pair of blue lacy panties. 

“Jesus Christ.” You giggled as he nearly drooled at the sight, fingers tracing the pattern. Placing sloppy kisses over the fabric you felt his lips suction over you clit, pulling a lewd moan from you. 

“Haechan...”

“I know.” He flashed a grin, pushing your legs up more, giving him easier access, and something to hold on to. But instead of giving you relief he continued over your clothed pussy, his tongue pushing at your hole, but never far enough to get you satisfaction. 

“Ngh, Haechan!” You urged him, needing him to rip off the barrier, but settling at the moment for tugging his face deeper into your crotch, choosing to grind on his face, the friction helping for the lack of skin. Every moment his nose pressed deep against you, you swear you lost your breath.

He groaned, sending vibrations through you causing you to squeeze your thighs tight around his head. His hands followed your movements, massaging at the outside of your legs as he pushed in deeper. 

Haechan was still lapping at you like a hungry animal as you came around his face. You fell back, eyes slammed shut as you tried to control yourself, but Haechan was still moving against your clit, overstimulation getting to you. 

Pushing him away gently you had little relief, but watching him with hooded eyes as his face was sheen with your slick had you wishing he was still between your legs. 

Haechan sat up on his elbows, wiping his face with the back of his hand, “You taste so fucking good, but I kinda want the real thing.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head, not sure if you could take him going to town on you again. Tightening your core you sat up, pulling him to you by his cheeks so that you could bring his lips to yours again, tasting yourself on him. 

Haechan’s hands tangled in your hair as your nails dragged against his back. His body rolled against yours, the hard on still trapped in his pants evident to you. 

“Take it off.” You mumbled against him, hands pawing at his ass eagerly as he moved to the crook of your neck. “Like hell he will.”

You gasped as you heard a familiar voice in the room, peering over Haechan’s back to find Jeno, bright red and furious standing in the doorway. 

“Jeno?!”

Haechan rolled around, exposing you as he turned to face he friend with unamused eyes, quite annoyed really. 

“Dude, get the hell out.” Haechan whined, moving to cover you as he noticed the way you squirmed beside him. 

“You get out, I gotta talk to Y/N.”

“Right now?”

“Yes right now.” Despite the way Jeno was glaring at Haechan, he refused to look at you for a reason unknown.

Haechan reluctantly left the room, tugging on his shorts for what little decency he had, muttering to himself something about having to finish it himself.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“What?” You rolled your eyes, sitting up with keeping the sheets tight around you, noticing the way that Jeno’s eyes were briefly drawn to you.

“Haechan? Really?”

“Jeno...”

He tangled his hands in his hair, pulling at the strands slightly before heaving a breath.

“You’re so fucking oblivious. That or you’re a really good actress.”

“What–”

“No. Don’t you get it? I care! Way too fucking much!”

“Can we? Can we talk honestly?” Jeno’s voice broke at the end of his sentence. 

“How much more honest can I get?”

“Don’t you get it? I care! Way too fucking much!” 

He caged you in, arms stiff on either side of your head, his own head leaning down to ravage at your neck. 

Holding himself up with one arm he gripped both of yours with his other, leaving you with no way to touch him. You squirmed under his hold, huffing out air as you stared up at him defiantly, dead set on staring him down. 

His hips ground against yours, the hard on in his jeans incredibly obvious as he felt the material restrict him. He groaned into your mouth, struggling to keep himself from tearing off his pants and ridding you of anything that kept you from him. 

“Fuck.” He muttered, biting at your neck a bit harsher than you were expecting, a faint cry escaping you. 

You struggled against his grip, desperate to touch him, mould against him. Eventually he broke, hands falling to the sides of your face, the deep pressuring kisses turning soft and faltering. 

Your hands rested on his chest, rubbing at the fabric there, pulling at it until you were gifted with peeks of his skin. 

“Mmmm. Jeno.” You moaned out, Jeno’s leg falling between yours, feet knocking together as he pushed his nose along your collarbone. Soft kisses lined the skin as he left love bites.

His body morphed with yours, rolling against it as he rubbed his hands over the expanse of your hips.

Jeno was being abnormally loud, whining in your ear, knee knocking at your soaked core between the thin sheet. But the sound reverberating through your was the best thing you had ever heard.

He pulled down the sheet covering your breasts, kissing them along the way, admiring the way that they stood up perky for him. Your hands pressed against his head, stroking tiredly at his hair as he continued his ministrations.

Jeno hummed against your skin, pads of his fingers teasing at the sheets, pulling them away from your body until you were skin to skin against him. It was much different than just moments ago with the others.

Even his touches were different, an air of hesitation in his grip, like he was worried you would run away if he grabbed on too tight.

If only he knew it was the opposite.

He pulled away just enough to pull off his shirt, your hands immediately falling to his skin, fingers running up and down the length of his torso.

Jeno sat on his haunches, slipping off his pants, underwear falling suit, but not giving you much to ogle at before he fell back against you. It happened so quickly, but somehow he managed to get between the sheet and your skin.

You were already so wet down there that Jeno slid in between your thighs with no problems and no resistance.

He was bigger than you remembered, stretching you out deliciously. You gasped out with an open mouthed kiss, his lips engulfing yours with frantic breaths as his hips began to find a rhythm.

Jeno dropped his head to the crook of your neck, forehead sticking with sweat against your collarbone. 

“Mmph. Jeno...” You moaned out, head turning to the side to try to calm yourself, “I’m so close. Please.”

Jeno took this opportunity, to press his fingers against your clit, rubbing figure eights over the nub, eliciting more moans from you. At the sound of this he sped up his hips, nearing the edge as breathless moans filled the room.

He let up on your clit, using that hand to turn your face back to face his. Pressing his lips against yours, the kiss grew from needy and lustful to soft, breathing open mouthed kisses over the sides of your mouth.

Soft cries left his mouth as you pulled his face against the ridge of your shoulder, placing soft kisses along his neck and ear. Jeno pulled back, hands growing taut on either side of your head.

“Can I cum in you?” He asked, eyebrows taut together as he watched you worriedly.

“Mmmm.” You pulled his face towards you, hands on either sides of his cheeks, kissing him softly as you nodded against his forehead.

He let out a fluttered sigh against your skin, hips continuing to move at a steady pace despite the way that he felt his orgasm coming. Jeno clenched his teeth, breathes hissing between his lips as he screwed his eyes shut, muffled moans reverberating through him.

The sounds only grew louder at the way you wrapped around him, pussy squeezing him dry, coming around him. His hips bucked two more times before he came in you, shooting his load in your walls that were gripping at him.

Jeno collapse against you, rubbing your skin soothingly for a few moments before he recovered, sliding himself off you.

“You alright?” Jeno asked, pushing the hair out of your face.

“Yeah.” You didn’t try to hide the tired smile sent his way.

Jeno pulled back, sliding down towards your legs, eyes still latched on yours. He only took his eyes off of you when he leveled with your leaking core, the sight of his cum dripping out of your pussy had him rutting against the bed a bit.

Pushing his finger into your pussy, catching the cum that leaked out and shoving it back in, watching how easily you took him back in.

“Ngh.” You sighed out, hand tugging at his hair, strikingly similar to the way you had with Haechan just an hour before.

Jeno’s nose pressed deep into your core, tongue fucking you, the taste of himself mixed with you lingering on his tongue. He dug his hands into your thighs, kneading them softly as he continued. One of his hands reached up to grab at one of your breasts, flicking at then nipple a few times before looking up at you with hooded lashes, eyes fluttering as his head bobbed up and down licking stripes through your nether lips. 

But before long it was becoming too much for you to handle, after the previous two orgasms you were already set on the edge. You came hard around his head, knees locking as you shuddered with pleasure. The whole time Jeno continued, not wanting to fight it as he was still pressed against your pussy, leaving soft kisses over the shivering skin. 

“Jeno.” You mumbled, dragging him up to you where he nuzzled against you until you fell asleep, exhausted after a long day.

“You jealous fuck.” Haechan snorted as Jeno came out of the room, swiveling on the stool in the kitchen.

“Shut up. You stayed the whole time?”

“I knew it’d work. Just wanted to check.” The former shrugged, grinning widely.

Jeno stopped, turning to glare at him, “Knew it’d work?”

Haechan grunted slightly as he stood up, “I mean what more needs to be said. You’re a jealous fuck. Jaemin suggested it really, knew you’d come running as soon as you found out. Thought you’d finally realize how you feel and straighten up.”

“You all are idiots.”

“But we saved your ass didn’t we?” Haechan stood, standing a little too close for Jeno’s liking.

“I think you enjoyed it a bit too much.” Jeno’s brows raised as his arms folded over his chest, staring down at him.

“Well, might as well live it up. Y/N’s a dream, I couldn’t not enjoy myself.”

“Shut up.”

Haechan lifted his hands up defensively, patting Jeno on the back as he made his way towards the door, only stopping when he saw you in the hallway approaching. “Don’t have too much fun Y/N, Jeno’s spoiled enough as it is.”

He winked at you on his way out, ducking past the door before Jeno could throw something at him. 

“I can’t believe you were going to sleep with him.” Jeno rolled his eyes, coming up next to you and wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“I already did.” Jeno’s face soured slightly at the memory of the last night in the cabin.

His grip on you tightened as he tugged you closer, “But I still fuck you best, isn’t that right?”

“You wanna prove it one more time for me?”

Jeno looked down at you, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Woah woah woah, at least buy me dinner first.” 

“Shut up.” You smiled, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

© Copyright 2022. hyuckssunchip. All rights Reserved.

[jackrrabbit]

Adversary /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You make a deal with the devil to save your life, but it turns out Overhaul’s not interested in your soul.

A/N: Remember when I said I was going to do a fantasy collab and then dipped for like 9 months? Hahaha…anyway…

@pleasantanathema @ present-mel @shadowworks—if it’s not too late, here’s my part for the Pleasant & Strider Fantasy AU Writing Collab from a million years ago. Go check out the masterlist and gorge yourself on these amazing pieces!!

Tags/Warnings: dubcon, demon fuckery & occult things, big heresy/sacrilege/perversion of religion, sex in a church ft. Catholic sex guilt, other than that it’s not that bad lol, inexperienced reader, mild degradation, shameless camp and demon-fucking clichés, Overhaul calls you “little girl” 👉👈

He doesn’t look like a demon.

Not that you really know what demons are supposed to look like. But…red skin, right? Fangs and claws and swirling masses of bad energy. Maybe cloven hooves for feet. Yes, that’s the Disney version—but even if you didn’t expect a cartoon personification of evil, you didn’t expect this.

He looks like a doctor, you think. Lab coat hanging open, surgery mask pushed down under his jaw, stethoscope draped over his shoulders. No, he’s a little young to really look like a doctor…an intern, you amend, shifting back in your hospital bed. He looks like he fits right in here, not a hair out of place. Except for, you know, the polished black horns curling out of the sides of his skull.

Overhaul. It was written in the book. That’s the only thing you have to call him in your head.

He’s standing in the center of the sigil you drew at the foot of your bed before midnight, surveying the room critically without meeting your gaze. He looks annoyed—that’s not a good sign, is it?—but then again, of course he’s annoyed. You’d be annoyed too if you got summoned out of your cozy hell dimension in the middle of the night. According to the book, you’re lucky he even showed up…although ‘lucky’ isn’t really how you’d describe yourself most days.

“So,” Overhaul says after a long moment of silence in which you question every choice you’ve made in your relatively short life. “You’re dying.”

You nod.

“And you don’t want to be.”

You nod again, wondering if you’re supposed to be contributing more to this conversation. It’s a bit difficult when your mouth is so dry it feels like you’ve been eating dirt, but you suppose being in the presence of an unholy servant of Satan will do that to a person.

“Fine.” He sighs, frowns, and then finally lowers his gaze onto yours—and you shiver.

Those eyes. No human has eyes like that.

“Make me an offer,” Overhaul tells you, and through his open mouth you catch a flash of sharp white teeth.

Okay. Okay. The chirping of the heart monitor speeds up (as if it weren’t obvious enough that you’re terrified) and you fold your knees up to your chest and fidget with your ring and think. He’s giving you a chance to establish parameters. You’re supposed to start with his end of the deal, the thing you want from him. That’s what it said to do in the grimoire, aka the 19th century demonology volume your creepy cousin brought back from her pagan anthropology research trip in rural France. The one you keep hidden under your bed because your mother would burn it if she knew you were reading about summoning demons.

Offer nothing to a hell creature without first telling him your price. You know the words by heart, both the winding calligraphy of the original French from the grimoire and the rushed scrawl of the English translation your cousin left for you in sheets of lined paper layered between the pages of the book for you to read. Really, this is her fault. She was the one who slipped you the book, who told you that it worked, who snuck you the ingredients for the summoning. She was the one who left a bookmark at the chapter on this particular demon, one that specializes in ‘Contrat pour Remédier au Déséquilibre des Quatre Humeurs’, which she said meant a contract to cure any illness. Even his ‘name’ is translated in her hand, practically an afterthought in the margins of the page.

‘Le Malin qui Ravage et Rebâtit’— Overhaul?

You looked up the literal meaning of this phrase on your own. It did not reassure you.

“Girl.” His voice is cold, irate. Your eyes snap back up to his and it feels like that burning gaze is laser-beaming into your skull. “Do not test me. My time is limited…as is yours.”

You swallow. “How long do I have left?”

“Less than a single human year,” he tells you without a trace of sympathy. “Seven months, twelve days, three hours. Or so. You’ll be too exhausted to leave this bed in four months, and the pain will become intolerable in six… By the end, you’ll wish—“

“Stop,” you breathe out. The heart monitor is beeping wildly and you squeeze your knees into your chest, trying to calm down your breathing. “Stop, I—I want to live.”

“Of course you do.” Overhaul’s lip curls. “How very predictable.”

Be specific, you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the stifling disapproval from the man—the demon—in front of you. Something about him (maybe how clean-cut he looks, maybe the indisputable authority in his demeanor) makes you want to impress him. But you didn’t turn your back on your religion—you didn’t draw pagan symbols on the floor in chalk, fill silver cups with various questionable substances (including your own virgin blood), and turn the crucifix your mother hung over your bed upside-down so you could let a demon make you feel guilty for wanting to survive. “I want to be cured. I’m okay with whatever natural death I have instead when I’m older, I just don’t want to die of this illness. I want you to make me healthy.”

“Simple enough. What else?”

‘Simple’? Your heart surges with something you’ve felt very little of since your initial diagnosis—hope. “T-That’s it. Just the cure.”

Overhaul glares at you. “Humans… Every vice in the world available to you, and you limit yourselves to the basest priority of survival.”

“But you can do it? You can cure me?” you persist.

Overhaul steps forward (quiet, so quiet you wonder if he really moved) and holds a hand out to you past the foot of your bed—you hesitate, and a second later you can see the muscles in his hand flex, stretching the latex of his plastic gloves tight over his knuckles.

Just do it. You give him your hand. Carefully. Like you’re scared the contact will burn you. It doesn’t (although his skin feels warmer than yours), but after a moment his grip tightens, sliding down past your hand to circle the fragile bones of your wrist and squeeze.

“Ow?” You wince.

The demon’s eyes flicker closed for a second, lips moving silently like he’s talking to himself—and then he drops your hand unceremoniously back onto your lap. “You could be cured before the sun rises this morning. I doubt your stay in the hospital will extend past the end of the week.”

He sounds bored, voice as flat and passionless as it was earlier, but your heart is soaring. Cured. You’ve lived with this illness for so many years, you can’t remember the last time someone told you you could be cured. And getting out of the hospital that soon? You can just imagine taking down all the decorations from the walls of your room here and setting them up in your old bedroom at home. You could see friends on the weekend and not take an oxygen bag, you could get a job or—or apply to college, you could have a life—

“That is…assuming you have something to offer me in exchange for the cure.”

Your stomach drops. You’d almost forgotten about the other half of the deal.

“Don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing.” Overhaul steps back, and the orange light of the candles you set sends strange shadows over his arrogant face. The fires look brighter now, and you find yourself tracing the lines of those shining black horns. In an odd way, they look natural—so organically framing his temples that you can’t imagine him without them.

“N-No, of course not. I have some money—I mean, my mom has some, and I can get it for you…” Which is half the truth. If you know anything, it’s that your mother’s spent most of her savings on your treatment and care. You probably have more debt than you have money in the bank right now—you’d try to get rid of that, too, if you hadn’t read in the book how important it is to keep your request as simple and straightforward as possible.

…Although it’s apparently not enough. Overhaul’s eyes narrow, molten gold irises carved into slits. “Even if I had a use for human money, do you really believe your life is worth so little?”

“No—no,” you say quickly. “I just thought—in case you were interested—”

The air crackles with energy, the candle flames spark bright blood-red, and the hair on your arms stands straight up. “I am not.”

“Okay! I get it.” You wave your hands back and forth, pulling your IV line from side to side with the motion. The book was very clear about staying calm and rational while you work out the terms of the deal, but that’s easier said than done when you have a real live (live?) hell creature in front of you. You always knew this was going to be the hard part—all the stories say there’s only one thing that a demon would be interested in, and no matter how inviting the prospect of living past this illness is, you know you’d rather die than sell your immortal soul to the devil. “I’ll give you anything except my soul! And—and don’t hurt anyone I care about, or— just don’t hurt anyone, okay? Other than that, if there’s anything I can give you, I will.”

Overhaul’s lip curls, baring a thin strip of those unnaturally sharp canines. “And is your soul really so valuable?”

This throws you for a loop. Isn’t that the standard deal? A soul for a wish? That’s how it’s supposed to work—at least in this twisted version of reality where you can summon a demon to perform unholy miracles for you. But if you think about it, it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Why would your soul be valuable to him? You can’t form an argument, especially since you’re not willing to barter it away in the first place.

Your mouth is pursed open as you search for a response, but Overhaul doesn’t seem willing to wait. A gloved hand wraps its way around the railing at the side of your bed, and he leans in closer. “Little girl…what makes you think you possess anything I desire?”

Little girl. You’re not a little girl, you’re a grown woman—and yet there’s no untruth in the statement. In front of him you feel insignificant, immature, weak. You have nothing real to offer, and something tells you that you’re not going to get rid of the demon you summoned without a sacrifice you’re not willing to make.

You twist your ring around your finger—the nervous habit you haven’t bothered to break because you’ve always had more important things to worry about—and the glint of silver in the candlelight must catch Overhaul’s eye because before you even notice him moving, your delicate hand is trapped in his larger one to give him a better view of the tiny piece of jewelry. “What is this?”

“It’s—um, a ring. A purity ring.” Has he never seen one before? Well…actually, that makes sense.

Overhaul turns your hand over in his without touching the band of silver. He’s looking at it closely, inspecting the lovingly engraved cross in the design and the inscription on the other side. “Matthew 5:8,” he reads out.

“…Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” you recite cautiously. It feels wrong to speak the words in front of him, but somehow you can’t help yourself.

Overhaul’s hand doesn’t leave yours. “This ring is important to you.”

“It’s a symbol of a—a promise I made to God. To save myself for my future husband.”

“To ‘save yourself’? To save what?”

You can’t believe you’re explaining this to a literal demon. You close your eyes and inhale slowly and taste smoke. “My…virginity. It’s a promise that I won’t have sex until I enter into a biblical marriage.”

At this, Overhaul is quiet. You give him a moment to answer, half expecting him to question why you think God cares about your sexual status (honestly, you’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered this yourself), but he stays quiet until you peek up at him to try and gauge the look on his coldly handsome face.

He’s still staring at the ring. He hasn’t touched it—maybe he can’t, because of the cross?—and through the latex, his skin feels hotter than a human’s is supposed to be.

“Is there…” you start, but you trail off when you realize you have nothing to ask. You give a little tug to try and take your hand away and you’re surprised when your wrist actually slides out of his grip to fall back on the nest of sheets in your lap. You didn’t think he’d let you go so easily.

Overhaul turns his head to the side, eyes drilling into you so you feel like you should lower your gaze. The candlelight flickers in strange shadows over his horns. “This will do,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“In exchange for your cure.” The demon taps his own left ring finger, the place where the purity ring sits on your hand, and your heart soars. He actually wants that? It’s just a simple silver band, not worth much, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it has some special significance because of the religious connotation. Your mother will be angry you’ve lost it, but you’re happy to cope with that if it means living to actually get married!

“Yes!” you blurt out before he has a chance to rethink his offer. Sure, you’ll miss the purity ring—you’ve had it since you were a kid, after all—but there’s no question you’re getting the better end of this deal. At least in your opinion.

Something flashes through his yellow eyes, something you don’t even want to try and identify. “The contract, then.”

You barely have time to notice that his voice has gentled, that it’s practically silken in comparison to before, when the candlelight flickers again and suddenly the contract is everywhere. Everywhere. Writing appears on every surface in the room, covering the walls, stretching over the ceiling, coiling around the sides of the hospital equipment and decorating your bedsheets until you and Overhaul are the only untouched surfaces in sight. The characters are inscribed in red, dark red like—don’t think about that, you tell yourself squeamishly. You can make out some of the letters, even a word here or there—French, you recognize, mixed with what looks like Latin and interspersed with what you can only guess are runes.

“I can’t read this,” you tell him, fidgeting with your ring for what you now realize will be the last time.

“I only need your name,” he purrs, and then you feel a fragile weight in your hand: a feather, pearl-black and glossy and too large to belong to any bird you can think of, its angled tip glistening with wet ink. There’s an empty space in the writing before you, and Overhaul’s gloved hand comes to yours again to guide you into place.

This feels wrong…then again, of course it does. Even if you’re getting off relatively easy and just losing your ring rather than your soul, you’re still making a deal with a demon. You sign your name, forcing yourself to think about the future you have ahead of you rather than a disapproving white-bearded caricature of The Man Upstairs wagging his finger at you for haggling with a literal servant of Satan. People have done worse things to survive, haven’t they? It’s just a ring.

You set the feather down and Overhaul sighs, thick black eyelashes obscuring his intense gaze for a moment—and then the contract is gone, leaving your hospital room as blank and sterile as it’s supposed to be (well, aside from the candles and all the other ritual stuff you threw together to summon a demon in the first place).

“Are you going to cure—heal me now?” you ask.

“…Patience, little girl.” He’s pulling his glove off, peeling it down his fingers to bare the pale skin of his hand. You catch your breath and wonder what this is going to feel like, and then the tips of his fingers meet your cheek and—

you stop breathing.

It doesn’t hurt.

Or if it does, you don’t remember the pain a second later when breath floods back into your lungs. What you do feel is energy. Strength in your muscles, blood pumping through your veins, every inhale and exhale as light as a bird and freer. You feel healthy. You’re surprised you even remember what health feels like but you do: it’s like you’ve only been half alive, and now life is surging into you and through you and around you, bubbling up in your core like a spring overflowing. You blink rapidly, thinking you might cry from the sheer pleasure of it, but when you open your mouth it’s laughter that comes out. You’re healthy. You’re alive. You barely notice the IV line literally falling off of your skin because the hole where it entered your vein is sealed shut and healed perfectly.

No more needles. No more hospitals. Even without all the monitors beeping out your heart rate and measuring your vitals, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind that you’re cured.

“Thank you!” you laugh, looking up at Overhaul and for the first time, not caring that he’s evil incarnate. “I feel—I’m okay! It worked!”

“Of course it did.” His expression is inscrutable, but he lets you have a few moments to enjoy your newfound health.

You roll your shoulders back, flex each muscle you can isolate one by one to test, make fists with your fingers and then run them over your hair, which is already thicker and shinier than it was a moment ago. Your body thrums with energy—you want to run, to feel the ground against your bare feet and the cold night air on your face, and you think you could do it! Your legs are already swinging over the side of your cot, ready to run barefoot out of the hospital if that’s what it takes, but before you can stand up Overhaul’s pushing you back down onto the bed.

“Have you forgotten your end of the bargain already?”

Honestly you did forget, but only for a second, only because you were so excited to just be outside again. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” Your hand goes to your left ring finger, ready to slip the ring off and hand it over, but Overhaul shakes his head.

“Not here.”

“What—?”

You’re falling. Your hospital room is disappearing, the image of your walls and your window and your bed disintegrating into yawning black, and you’re falling through it into nothing, into emptiness, and Overhaul’s still-bare hand in yours is the only anchor you have so you clutch onto it and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to scream—that’s the sane thing to do when you’re falling through miles and miles of empty space, right?—but when you open your throat the sound is swallowed up just like the light was…

Overhaul’s hand burns into yours, an improbable lifeline that you pull closer more out of terror than conscious thought. The slick, empty air rushes around you and you think I am going to die like this and then, incredibly, as soon as you’ve accepted your imminent demise, you feel your back mold onto a chilled, flat surface, vertebra by vertebra up to the back of your head, as if you’ve been lain down onto it.

Your heart thuds in your ears and you brace for an impact because your body hasn’t quite accepted yet that it’s not falling anymore—but at the same time, you know you’re lying down on something. You pry your fingers away from their vice-grip on Overhaul’s arm and feel around blindly for what’s underneath you, and when it seems reasonably tangible you let yourself open your eyes.

Way above, vaulted dozens of feet over your head, is a ceiling studded with gilt-edged frescoes and stained glass. It’s raining (even though it wasn’t in the hospital, you think) but through the massive panes of colored glass there’s enough oily blue light to make out that you’re in a church.

You’re in a church, with a demon. Isn’t that against the rules?

You sit up stiffly and look over at Overhaul, who’s standing at your side and looking down at you…which is how you realize the soft, cold surface you’ve been deposited onto is the blanket on top of the altar in the sanctuary. “Where...did you take me?”

“You should know this place.”

And you do, when you look around. It’s empty now and you’ve never been here at night, but this is a church your mother would bring you to when you were little, back before the disease got so bad you couldn’t risk traveling to it anymore. This is where you took your purity vow…the ring feels heavy on your hand. “Why—why—“

“I can’t stand human hospitals. Filthy places… How that reek of illness and death doesn’t bother your kind, I’ll never understand.” Overhaul pulls his latex glove back on. He’s dressed differently now, no longer impersonating a doctor—black shirt, black pants, and a…bird mask in red leather and gold. So are you, as a matter of fact. Instead of your hospital gown, you’re in a gauzy white dress that’s already been pushed up to pool around the tops of your thighs.

The slip is too thin for the cold, and you can feel your nipples standing up under the cloth so you fold your arms over your chest and hug yourself. “Why did you take me here?” The sound of your voice echoes off the walls eerily and you wish you hadn’t spoken so loudly. The reflection of your words sounds girlish, nervous.

“I told you. Your side of our contract.” Even in this dark, the angular features of his face are clearly concentrating—on you. “Are you already having second thoughts? Such a fickle little thing…”

“You mean the ring?” You reach for it again, ready to tear it off and throw it at him if that’s what it takes to see your deal through, but Overhaul snatches your hand away, pinning it above you.

“Not the ring,” he says. “The promise.”

The…promise?

A chill makes its way down your spine despite the heat radiating off the demon’s body and onto yours. “I don’t understand.”

“The promise,” Overhaul repeats—and you hear a sound almost like wings flapping and then he’s on the altar with you, knees straddling your hips as a single hand holds both your wrists above your head. “To remain a virgin until marriage. Your promise to God.”

A streak of lightning cracks down on the other side of the stained glass window behind the altar, illuminating the room briefly in spectacular pits of red and orange and yellow…and then it’s dark again, and the only color you can make out is the gold in Overhaul’s eyes.

“I’m going to break it,” he murmurs, lowering his head toward your ear right as the answering thunder rolls through the sanctuary, up through the altar, up into you.

///

Méfiez-vous de son piège, the grimoire said. Beware of the catch.

Of course it wasn’t just a ring.

Overhaul’s fingers are in—inside you, his middle and ring finger pumping through the length of your cunt like they belong there, like you were made to be touched this way. A mixture of your juices and your own spit cling to the latex because he made you suck his fingers before he put them in you and he hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off—not that you asked. You’ve been too busy biting your lip to try and muffle the moans that he keeps forcing out of you. He’s bracing himself on top of you with one hand and fingering you with the other, so your own hands are free to push into your eyes and hide your face…until he yanks your arm back and stops.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes are screwed shut and you shake your head back and forth, the movement shuddering your whole body right down to your pussy wrapped around Overhaul’s fingers. He slows the movement and kneels back, pushing one of your thighs up into your chest as he does it.

“Look at me.”

And you’re not sure whether it’s some unearthly power he has over you or the plain old deterioration of your willpower, but you can’t refuse him. You crack your eyes open and he’s glaring down at you, skin pale as ice in the blue light. Once he’s satisfied that you’re watching, the demon leans back in to fuck your cunt with his fingers, slowly at first and then quicker when he hits something inside of you—a spot, a place on the inner wall of your pussy that makes you feel like you’ve been shocked— heat blooms through you like blood in water and you gasp and he curls his fingers up to pet over that spot again.

“Wait—wait, that’s—it feels—weird!” You’ve never felt like this before. You’re not supposed to feel like this, it’s wrong.

“I understand you’ve never touched yourself, but don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Overhaul says, voice as indifferent and calm as ever even though your cunt is dripping clear sticky liquid over the plastic of his glove.

He pushes back in and grinds his palm over the little button on the top of your pussy—your clit?—and you want to scream. “No, I—I don’t—nnhh...”

Do you like it? The demon’s body is so hot next to yours, like he’s running a fever except you’re the one going out of your mind… You’ve heard metaphors for sexual pleasure before (that it’s like having something to drink when you’re dying of thirst; or that it’s the ultimate act of intimacy, love in physical form) but all of that’s a fucking lie. There’s nothing to compare it to, no reference that makes sense, because it doesn’t make sense—you don’t even want him to keep going, do you? You’re only doing this because you signed your name on a devil’s contract, because you don’t want to die and there’s no alternative…but that doesn’t explain why you feel so warm from the inside out, why you’re squirming and your hips are rocking involuntarily no matter how much you try to keep still. This isn’t right. You feel like you’ve been lied to.

A good girl wouldn’t like this.

Overhaul isn’t going to let you close your eyes, so you don’t—but the sounds coming out of your mouth are so…indecent (and how can you think these things about yourself? the word feels like someone else is saying it when you hear it in your head) that your hand is drifting up to your mouth before you can stop yourself, trying to stifle all of it…

“Let your voice out. I want you to hear yourself moan.”

Long fingers slide their way out of your pussy and then move up to rub quick little circles around your clit and you moan, like a whore, like a girl getting her cunt rubbed by a demon— “Oh, uhhhn—something, it’s—coming—“ There’s something building up in your core—a peak, a climax, something that makes you fist your hands in the nightgown he put you in (so tight you’re surprised the thin fabric hasn’t torn) and tilt your hips up into him, begging without words because you don’t have any to express what your body is asking for…

But he doesn’t give it to you. Overhaul takes his hand away from your pussy and the shock of the cool air after his too-hot touch is almost enough to send you over that edge—almost. Not quite. And without it, you’re left shivering and quaking, thighs twitching as your baser instincts beg you to just put your hand between your legs for once and hump your fingers to completion if the demon won’t do it.

You’re not going to risk that, though. Not when Overhaul’s dragging your body closer, bunching up the blanket on the altar under your spine, so your pelvis is angled to his… He’s already shirtless and you hear him unzipping his pants but you can’t bring yourself to actually look at him, even when you feel something hard and hot nudging up against your inner thigh and then aligning to your sticky wet slit.

“This will hurt a bit, but I want you to look,” he says, and you don’t even understand at first until you make yourself feel it—his cock, pushing up against your tight cunt to finish this, this perversion of what your first time was supposed to be…

And what was it supposed to be? Roses and candles and soft kisses? A nameless, faceless husband unzipping your wedding dress and making love to you with the lights off? The way the demon touches you should be cruel in comparison but it isn’t, it’s lighting fires under your skin and turning your brains to mush, so how is your body supposed to tell the difference?

It’ll hurt, you know that, you’ve heard enough about sex to know that it always hurts the first time for girls…women. It was already a stretch to fit his fingers in your virgin pussy, so of course his cock is going to hurt. You turn your head toward the window at your side and try on look out at the rain drawing rivulets like veins over the glass, something to focus on instead of him.

“I said look,” the demon hisses, and his hips push forward a bit and you bite off a whimper of pain. “Watch me take your virginity…look at your tight little cunt swallowing me up just like it was made to.”

“N-No—“ you whine, even though it’s not like you can ignore it. “Don’t make me, don’t make me look, I can’t—“

“Then look at me.”

It’s what he wants, some kind of wicked satisfaction he gets off on, but you’re lucky enough to even get an option so you choose that one, shifting your gaze up into his face instead of the place where his cock is pressing deeper and deeper inside you. Overhaul’s eyes are half-lidded and it’s hard to tell from behind the mask but the look on his face is…pleasure? No, that would be too human. Restraint, at least. He could just thrust up into your body in one stroke, but he wants you to feel it for some reason.

Maybe because it’s a worse betrayal of your chastity if you want to get fucked.

Lucky for you, though, you can barely feel anything aside from the pain. The heat you felt building earlier is draining out of you even as Overhaul tilts deeper, layering his chest over yours. You’re almost grateful for the modest barrier the dress provides between your torso and the solid muscle of his abdomen. His cock in your pussy feels like it’s too big too deep too much and it’s the first time you’ve felt like your body wasn’t created specifically for this purpose so you hold it tight.

“Does it hurt?”

A second of clarity makes you want to snarl (of course it fucking hurts, I’m losing my virginity to a demon I summoned from hell) and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from saying it out loud. Overhaul pulls out a fraction of an inch and then pushes back in and you feel like the breath’s being pushed out of your lungs. “Yes! Yes, it—it hurts—“

“I can make you enjoy it…for a price,” he sighs, settling into a slow rocking motion of his hips pushing into yours.

And you want to, every sore muscle in your cunt is telling you to give in and give up, give him what he wants so you can enjoy it like he says—but you’d rather hate every second of this than make another deal. You shake your head quickly and because you’re still too afraid to look away from him, you don’t miss the look of surprise that flits across his face before he tamps it down. “I don’t—I don’t want to—like it,” you gasp out between thrusts. “It’s better if—if it h-hurts…”

This time it’s obvious—his eyes really do widen, and you feel some petty triumph at having caught him off guard like this. Who’s predictable now? you think—and then he’s lifting one hand off the altar at the side of your head and tugging his glove off with his teeth, and you don’t even have time to be afraid of what he’s going to do to you because it’s too late, his bare fingers are already stroking over your mound and onto your core, massaging into the flesh of your stomach so he can feel his own cock sliding in and out of you—

and it doesn’t hurt anymore?

You only have a second to try and understand—he cured you, he healed the pain from your first time just like he healed your illness?—before he hooks his grip under your thigh and folds your legs into your chest so he can fuck into you harder than before. His cock slaps into your pussy and you can hear it, hear how wet your filthy little cunt is, smeared through with your juices. It’s sick—the sound of skin against skin, and the moaning you can’t hold back, you sound like a woman in a porno and you wish the pain would come back just so you could keep hating what he’s doing to you. “What—what did you do—“

The demon ignores you. “It feels good, doesn’t it.”

“Nn—“ It’s deeper like this…deeper and rougher and you can feel it. Now that the pain’s been reduced to the dull ache of a stretched muscle, you can feel everything—his cock sliding against that same spot in your cunt that makes you want to squeal, the friction of his body moving against your clit, all of it, everything you wanted to block out— he pumps into you and you hear your breath sobbing out a moan a second out of rhythm, the sounds of you bouncing on demon cock echoing over the walls. “Please—ah, ahhh…”

“‘Please?’ Are you begging—me, little girl?” Overhaul pushes your thigh up and drags his cock through you, excruciatingly slow, forcing you to feel the thick head slide over every gummy wall in your slick pussy.

You shake your head, mewl, try to force your hips to stop rocking back into his and grinding your clit against him. But you can’t. You’re a—you were a virgin, for fuck’s sake! Overhaul’s immortal. Probably thousands of years of experience on how to make you feel like you want this, like you’re only alive in the places he touches you… You’re at his mercy, if he has any. You never stood a chance.

“Then are you begging your god?” His body lowers directly onto yours and like you’re being controlled by puppet strings your arms fold around him and rake your fingernails uselessly into the smooth skin of his back. You can feel the vibration of his mirthless laughter through his chest. “It must hurt terribly…to know he isn’t listening.”

“Don’t—stop, please,” you sob. “Don’t say—don’t stop—please!”

“Listen to yourself, girl—“ Overhaul’s breath is faster now, but you don’t have time to question it because you feel your peak coming again, the tension rising up through your cunt and your abdomen, harsher and crueler than when his fingers were in you but you want it just as much. More. “Has he ever answered your prayers? Has he...ahh, fuck—who’s the one giving you what you need?”

“No— please, please just let me let me, please—“ You’re talking nonsense now, begging for the release—at least then it’ll be over, and you need it, you need it so badly you feel your muscles locking up, cramping, your ankles crossing each other behind Overhaul’s back.

“Good girl,” the demon breathes, and then he lifts off you so he’s kneeling upright with the two of you still connected, his thick, heavy cock still speared in your pussy, and his fingers come down again to rub at your clit. Everything’s so wet you can hear the motion of his fingers slicking themselves through your juices, sliding up and down the little button over and over and it feels so good that a tiny part of you almost wants to drag it out, to savor it, but the rest of your body is going to die, is going to go crazy if the demon doesn’t let you cum right now, right now, right now!

And he does. Praise the Lord. The pads of Overhaul’s fingers pass over your clit one last time and your head rolls back, your throat moves but you can’t even make a sound, your legs shake and you cum.

You didn’t know it was like this.

Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, throbbing and pulsing and your toes literally curl (you didn’t think that was a real thing!) and your vision goes black for a moment and—oh fuck oh fuck i want this i want more how is it possible that i’ve never felt like this—you understand, more intimately than ever, why sex is wrong:

because nothing that makes you feel this good could possibly come without a cost, could it?

///

It must take longer than you thought for you to come back to your senses, because when you regain awareness of your body you’re in your hospital bed. You’re clean, too, and you wonder for a second if Overhaul bothered to clean you up? Or no…he probably just snapped his fingers and transported you back to your room. You’re not really sure how it works.

What you are sure of, however, is that you just got fucked by a demon. You’re sore in places that you didn’t know it was possible to be sore, and there are already bruises forming on the flesh of your thighs from how tight he was holding you. You don’t really have time to inspect these, though, because apparently your…ordeal (if you can call it that) isn’t over.

Overhaul’s still here.

He’s facing the hints of sunrise through the east window, dressed again in the immaculate lab coat and surgeon’s mask. “You’re awake,” he says without looking at you.

You nod hesitantly. You’re not really sure what the protocol is in this situation, but at least you’ve finally held up your side of the contract, right? And so has he. Despite having been up all night doing sinful things, you’re still itching to get out of this bed and test the limits of your healthy body. “You’re…going to leave, right?”

“Yes—”

At that, you sigh in relief and settle back into your starched bedsheets.

“But there’s one more thing you owe me.”

“Goddamnit,” you swear for the very first time in your life. After what you just did, taking the Lord’s name in vain seems like a relatively minor sin.

Overhaul’s mildly irritated expression doesn’t change, but he holds his hand out to you, palm up, the way you imagine someone would if they were helping you out of a car or requesting a dance at an old-fashioned ball. And really, you want all of this to be over—you want to get out of this hospital, you want to taste what the air outside is like, you want to distract yourself from what you just gave up in exchange for a future. At this point you’re just going to have to hope God isn’t as picky about the whole premarital sex thing as you grew up believing.

So you put your hand in Overhaul’s.

Slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid it’ll burn him, he slides your purity ring down your finger and balances it in the palm of his bare hand. It sizzles when he touches it, glowing orange until it eventually burns down into a ash-black circle in the center of his palm. Once he’s satisfied that your pretty little ring has been reduced to nothing more than a scorch mark, he closes his hand around yours and you feel something sharp, painfully hot, etching onto your finger.

It’s over in a second, but you still yelp and yank your hand away from him as soon as he lets you. “Ah—ow, what was that?”

He burned you, he literally burned you! He’s already healed it, but there’s still a thin, pale scar, an intentional one left wrapping around the skin at the base of your left ring finger. Like a wedding ring.

When you look close, you can make out a symbol on the back of your finger where the cross used to sit—and even though your conscious mind doesn’t recognize it, the sight of it rings out something inside your ribcage, deeper and truer than flesh and blood. It’s the devil’s mark, you think. It’s his.

“…A promise,” Overhaul says softly, and even though it’s a chilly morning, you can feel the heat of his hands on yours a long time after he vanishes back into the dark.