what do you do when your teenage brother’s cancer is too far gone? well, you summon a cocky crossroad demon to make a deal; your life for taehyung’s.
pairing: demon!jk x reader
genre: angst, fluff, smut.
word count: uhm, ...19.5k
warnings: some parts are very sad, reader is prepared for her life to end and her brother has terminal cancer :/ it’s not really described in-depth since i’m not a doctor and it’s a sensitive topic. she also has the beginning of a panic attack. penetrative sex, switch/very soft dom/slightly sub jk lmao, his dick is...ribbed. also blood, mentions of killing, branding skin, wounds by arrow...
© deal is copyright jeonstudios 2020. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.
author’s note: inspired by the crossroad demons of supernatural who seal their deals with a kiss and then collect the humans’ souls. also this is pure shit so im sorry :( tumblr literally did NOT want this fic up because it gave me H E L L trying to upload so if things shit then it is what it is im having an aneurism
It's empty. Not a single soul present, except for you. You should've picked a different location, surely crossroads are abundant. But this one was desolate, no one around to witness the massive fool you're about to make of yourself. Maybe it's also due to the fact that it's in the middle of the night. Probably.
Your trusty old car waits a couple of meters behind, lazily pulled over on the side of the thin, dirt road and with the headlights on to guide you. There are a few sparsely placed streetlights, but none that's emitting actual light. You've retrieved the plastic bag containing the three components needed, and it swings heavily from your hand. You won't deny that you're nervous.
So focused on the three ingredients for your soup of failure, you realize that the shovel remains at home, leaning against the wall beside your front door.
Well, you're not driving back to get it, and the dirt in the middle of the crossroad seems kind of loose anyway, so you might as well just use your hands.
The plastic bag is turned upside down, letting the things fall out and onto the ground where you're kneeling. Looks like it's gonna be the end for your black jeans, but you can't find it in you to care; they're old and worn.
When empty, the bag is used as a loose-fitting glove for both your hands, and you start tearing up the dirt. It doesn't take too long, but you're still rendered breathless by the time the hole in the ground is deep enough to place the things into. A small wooden box, containing a polaroid of you, along with a fistful of graveyard dirt, and a bone of a black cat gets dropped inside. With a last look at the items and your fingers crossed, you start shuffling the dirt back haphazardly with your feet.
"Smart trick, using the bag like that."
You flinch at the amused voice that cuts through the eerie silence from behind. When you turn around, you see a figure standing just outside the headlights' reach. There aren't any houses or even trees around, just fields of tall grass, and since your car is the only one there, there's nowhere else he could've come from.
"Are—are you the... demon?"
He chuckles at your voice that's everything but confident. "Come here, and see for yourself."
You can't make out much of him, just that he's tall and dressed in black, and despite your heartbeat giving you a clear warning, your feet take you closer to him. Obeying a strange man in the middle of nowhere is definitely something your mother would've berated you for, but you don't have any choice.
The further you stray from the light supplied by your car, the more your eyes adapt to the darkness. When you're close enough to discern his features, you nearly lose your breath.
He... looks out of this world, that's how beautiful he is. Black hair that reaches his defined cheekbones in wavy strands. Big, expressive eyes. Big, smug eyes. His jaw is sharp, and his nose—slightly hooked—fits his face so perfectly. You've never seen anyone like him.
You whisper, "but you, uh, you look so human?" It's true, he might be the most handsome man you've ever laid your eyes on—but he's just a man.
"You wanted horns?" he smirks, making you blush a little. Maybe not horns, but you certainly expected something other than clear skin and luscious hair. He's also wearing black jeans with a black dress shirt tucked into them. Human.
"I—I don't know," you stutter, embarrassed, looking down at your hands.
The demon takes the few steps that remain between you, and a part of your brain attempts to convince you to turn and run. His hand comes to tilt your head back up, and he's so close you can barely think. To prove his status as an authentic crossroad demon, he lets his eyes shine bright red at you. You don't breathe, too terrified, nervous, and mesmerized. He knows what effect he has on you if the arrogant look on his face is anything to go by.
"So, what brings you here? Money, power... Love... Just say it, and it'll be yours. For a price, of course."
Despite the seductive tone of his voice, you're reminded of why you're there, why you've summoned a demon in the first place. It's difficult to concentrate; he's too close, too much, so you close your eyes for a moment of mental clarity. And you speak.
"Can you rid someone of a terminal disease?"
"Hmm. Your brother?"
The demon knows. You can't say you expected it, but honestly, he's a demon, what did you think? The small gasp you let out has him thoroughly inspecting your face, fingers tilting your head from side to side by your chin. It feels like he's examining an object at a store, searching for eventual damage. Your body feels stiff. You don't particularly like it, but what can you do other than suck it up and let him?
"Well, a favor that big comes with another price than the usual, you know?" You open your eyes, and he drops his hand from your face. "Normally, I'd collect your soul after ten years, but I can't give someone life without taking someone else's. It's all about balance."
"I understand," you say, already knowing what it means. You've known since before you drove out there.
"So, whose life are you sacrificing? You have to know them, and they have to agree. Such are the rules."
Even when speaking of sacrificing lives, the demon still talks lowly, seductively. He wears that smirk like he enjoys it to the fullest.
He's silent for a moment, tilting his own head as he watches you.
"How noble of you."
"So, can you do it?" You question, ignoring his comment. You're doing this because you don't have any other choice, not to earn brownie points from a demon.
"I can. The deal is sealed by a kiss. You will die, and the life within you will be given to your brother—"
"You'll heal him, right?" The demon glares at you, a clear warning for interrupting him. "Sorry, I just need to know." You want Taehyung to live a normal life, not just remain alive in his current state.
"He will be healed, yes. Since you won't be alive for ten years, I will collect your soul immediately."
"How will I die?"
The demon has gradually lost his smirk, and for a few fleeting moments, he looks... softer. More gentle.
"I will kill you. Don't worry, Y/n, it'll be quick."
"Okay," you breathe out, not putting much thought into his use of your name that you never gave, "that's good."
"Me killing you?" he asks, and when you meet his eyes, he appears genuinely curious.
"Yeah, I mean..." What are you going to say that won't sound totally insane? "I like you. I guess maybe that's the reason you look like you do?"
He listens intently, a smile on his face that's so beautiful you can't help but stare. The demon's teeth are white, but you notice that he has a slightly above average overbite and that his front teeth are a little crooked. Somehow it makes him even more perfect.
"You're so beautiful, and, although a little too arrogant for my liking, your confidence puts me at ease. Like you've done this a million times. You've given me no real reason to, yet I trust you."
You don't know if he sees how your eyes are begging him to keep his word. Once again, he tilts your head up, and you wish you could remain staring at his face for hours. Like there wasn't a reason for you to have summoned him.
"I'm flattered. You're a pretty girl."
You catch his eyes flickering down to your lips, and his pink tongue swipes over his own. The qiet excitement that courses through you at the thought that he wants to kiss you is quickly overshadowed by the realization that he only wants to seal the deal and take your life. And that he intends to do it now.
Nervous hands coming up to his chest, you hesitantly push him away. He lets you, dropping his hand from your chin for the second time, but you notice the irritation that colors his face.
"What is it?" he asks, that same irritation also lacing his words, "I thought we were on the same page."
"Yeah," you rush out. "I just—I need some time. I have some things I have to do first."
You pray he'll understand. The demon rolls his eyes and sighs.
"So, you summoned me just to talk?"
"No! I just... wanted to know if it was possible, if such a thing as demons even existed before I made the decision."
"Fine. I guess that's reasonable. I like to consider myself pretty considerate for a demon, but I can't give you much. Your brother is pretty bad, right? I can't keep him alive for long without getting another life in return."
"Three weeks then? I just have to set everything up so that my family can manage without me. I promise I'll be back soon."
You start backing away towards the car, but you don't get far before the demon's hand grips your wrist and stops you. He's serious. It scares you, makes you gulp. What if he won't let you leave?
"I can give you three weeks, but only if we seal it now. I can't do favors for people, not knowing if I'll get paid or not."
Despite not having a clue how demons and their deal-economics work, you guess that's a fair point. You bite your lip as you think it through once more.
There isn't another way. You've spent a year searching for it, and it doesn't exist. All you can do is prepare for your death, make sure your siblings get on with you no longer present. Three weeks should be enough. Longer than that and you might start to overthink.
"Understandable. So, three weeks? Both my brother and I will remain alive for these three weeks, and when they've passed, you will heal him and take my life?"
"Yes. And since I'll let you go now, there's a risk I won't be able to collect in person, so to speak. You might as well pick a time and a preferred way to die. I can kill you at any time during that day, but if I'm caught up in something else and haven't gotten around to do it by the time of your choosing, you'll die anyway."
How do you pick a way to die?
"It'll be... June fourteenth."
The demon confirms with a nod. He's let go of your arm but is still standing close to you.
"Not an accident, I want my body... intact," you think out loud and mindlessly start fidgeting with your hands. Unless absolutely necessary, you'd never want to subject anyone to the trauma of 'causing' the accident that kills you or finding your broken body afterward. "Something medical then, I suppose?"
You look at the man in front of you for guidance. You can see that he's slowly losing his patience.
"Heart attack?" he suggests indifferently. "You're a little young for that, but it's still possible. You'll just drop dead wherever you are at that moment."
"Okay, I guess. And you said to pick a time? Maybe... five forty-seven? Pm?"
"Great," he claps his hands, but his face shows no joy. He wants to get it over with, doesn't even question your very specific time, even though it's purely random.
"June fourteenth, at five forty-seven pm, you will die of a heart attack. Your life will be transferred to your brother Taehyung, and he will be cured of his terminal cancer. And just to let you know, 'keeping you and your brother alive,' only means that I won't kill you before the time agreed upon is up, and he won't die of his cancer. In no way are either of you invincible during this time, other things can still kill you."
You nod, heart beating faster at the realization that you're actually doing this. You're making a deal with the devil. Well, a demon, but close enough.
"Like I said, the deal has to be sealed by a kiss. Not something I decided, but no one has complained so far," the demon smirks and licks his lips again.
He places his hand at the back of your head and takes the last step until your bodies are practically flush together. Due to the difference in height, he has to bend down, which he does slowly. You can appreciate that. While you know he's impatient, he doesn't stress it.
You stand on your toes and softly grasp his shirt at his chest to meet him halfway. The last centimeters before your lips meet, you're still hesitant. Not because your feet are getting cold, but because you're scared. It's up to you to touch your lips to his. He's stopped moving, leaving it to you to seal the deal.
And you do. Because Taehyung is dying, and you love him and your little sister more than anything.
In the beginning, it's slow. Gentle. You don't know if there's a minimum amount of time required for the contract to be valid, but you keep going just in case. The demon snakes his other arm around your waist and pulls you closer.
He's warm. The kiss is comforting; it allows you to forget everything for a moment and pretend that you're not kissing a demon with the sole purpose of keeping your brother alive. The hand you're not gripping at his shirt with travels up to his neck.
You're suddenly so overcome with gratitude for this supernatural being that you can't bring yourself to stop. He doesn't seem to mind, just kisses you back expertly and making you wonder how many times he's done this. He tastes great, like he just brushed his teeth and entire mouth with something sweet that you can't decipher.
You let go of his shirt and bring both hands to his face. Slowly, you break away to admire his gorgeous face and place a few much more innocent kisses on his mouth while mumbling, "thank you, I know you'll get my soul and everything, but I can still never repay you," in between them.
Before letting him go completely, you throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly. He's saved your baby brother, after all. "Thank you." You notice that it catches him by surprise, and he stiffens up momentarily before relaxing.
When you do let go and take a step back, he's grinning at you. "Nice doing business with you. And they say the incubi get all the action?"
You don't mind how he's teasing you for kissing him far longer than necessary, you don't mind, at all. It's such a small price to pay.
He looks like he's getting ready to leave; however he'll accomplish that. You don't know, you never saw him arrive either. But you're suddenly reminded—you don't know his name.
He meets your eyes, eyebrows raised as he obeys, waiting.
"Do you have a name?"
"I do. Unfortunately, it's not something I'm willing to share."
"Why not? You know mine," you plead.
"Knowing a demon's name gives you control over them, and as you might guess, that's not something desirable."
You barely have time to open your mouth before he interrupts with a final reminder.
"June fourteenth, five forty-seven."
Then he turns into black smoke, and you're left alone at a desolate crossroad.
It's only been three days when you're once again sitting in your car with a specific destination in mind. You have the bag with the graveyard dirt, the box with your picture in it, and the bone from a black cat beside you in the passenger seat. The two latter ones you actually dug up after the demon left. You're not entirely sure how the lady at the creepy shop came over the bones, but you're not going to accidentally support the killing of black cats financially by purchasing more.
This time, you've also brought the shovel.
The massive garden tool divides the time it takes you to dig the hole into five. A couple scoops of dirt later, and you can bury the stuff like you did last time. Doing it during the day whit the sun still out is another huge help.
As soon as the items are no longer visible, you turn around, expecting the demon to appear at the same spot as last time. He doesn't.
"Can't stop thinking about that kiss?"
You twirl, coming face to face with the demon again. He's sporting that familiar smirk, and you wish you'd summoned him in the daylight the first time as well. He's still intimidating, but a little less so, and it's easier to admire him in the light. You won't tell him that, although you suppose he already knows, considering what you told him last time.
"I need to ask some questions."
Your statement makes him sigh. "You should've done that before. The contract is binding, none of us can break it."
"It's not regarding that. Well, I guess it is... but I just need to know if I should tell my siblings?"
"You're allowed to tell whoever you want, but people tend not to believe stuff like this," he shrugs.
You watch him casually lean on the hood of your blue car. He's wearing the same outfit as last time, black jeans and dress shirt tucked in, but in the light, it's much easier to see how his body is built. He's tall and lean, but his thighs seem to fight the fabric of the jeans. It's your favorite part of him, you think. Or maybe his thin waist, showed off by the belt and tucked-in shirt. Or his broad shoulders. It's hard to decide.
"I was mostly thinking if I should tell them that I'm going to die? Will it be easier for them to know or not?"
"You're kidding? That's why you summoned me? I'm a demon, not a psychologist," he scoffs, letting you know just how dumb you are.
"But can't you, like, see into the future and tell me?"
"Uh, no? I can't?"
You drop your shoulders and stare at the shovel that lays next to the now-covered hole. With a sigh, you bend down to pick it up and start the process of digging the things up again. Well, the box and the cat bone; the graveyard dirt would be challenging to get back. You have a metric kilogram of it in a bag at home anyway.
"You're not supposed to dig the things up, you know?" His voice sounds from behind as you're working, but you're too disappointed to reply. For the past three days, you've been struggling to figure out if you should tell your sibling or not. Prepare them or not. The demon was a shot in the dark, but getting shot down like that is disappointing, and you're still none the wiser.
"I guess I wouldn't tell them if I were you," he speaks. You stop digging and turn around, not expecting him to actually give you a straight answer. "Decreases the risk of them feeling like they could've prevented it. You'd feel guilty, too, right? If you were in their shoes?"
"Yeah, but it's so hard keeping it to myself," you mumble, sticking the shovel into the ground and leaning your arms on the handle. An ant catches your attention, and you watch it climb a little mountain. "I'm going to die, and I don't have anyone to talk to about it."
You look at him and see the moment he realizes why you summoned him. He's the only one who knows about all of this.
"I'm not really a great help. I don't like humans, they don't mean anything to me, mostly just scream when they see me come to collect."
He smiles fondly, as if it brings back valuable memories for him. With a look at your defeated expression, he sighs and looks up towards the sky as if the solution's just gonna fly past him.
"Life is life. It comes, and it goes. You've done what you can, had good moments and bad ones. Every single human that has lived has also died. Everyone alive at this moment, and those who haven't been born yet... they will all die. It's just harder for you since you know how and when it'll happen."
"Thank you," you say quietly, to which he nods before lying down on your car with his forearms under his head. His words do help a little. You furrow your eyebrows at his surprisingly relaxed state.
"You don't have anywhere to be?"
"Why? You want me to leave already?"
"No, I was just wondering if you have time. I'm just really curious."
"You," you confess, a blush soon coloring your cheeks. The demon doesn't look at you, just chuckles.
"You know, I usually don't spend much time with humans, but I'm really enjoying the sun, so ask away, and we'll see if I answer."
You take a second to organize your thoughts. You have so many questions, things you want to know about him. It's like a whirlwind up there. He's a demon for god's sake.
"Is your body, like, yours? I mean, that's you? Not just some random dude, possessed by black smoke?"
"Most demons don't have physical bodies, so they resort to possession. This body is mine. However, I can possess, as well."
"Okay, well, you joked before... about me expecting you to have horns..."
"You're wondering if I have a forked tongue and a ribbed cock?"
Your eyes go wide, and you blink fervently at the smug demon. "Uh, not... exactly what I was thinking of, but I guess? Do you?"
He chuckles again, leaning up and throwing you a wink. "I've got... some things."
You never thought you'd feel the tiniest bit of endearment towards a demon, but the one in front of you can't seem to execute a wink quite right. He's unable to keep the other eye open, and so he just ends up closing both eyes in an exaggerated blink. It's... cute. Guessing he won't reveal more than that, you move on to the next question.
"Where do you come from? Hell?"
The question earns another laugh from him. He looks so unbothered, soaking up the sun on your car. You change your grip on the shovel to resume digging up the items—the last thing you'd want is to get lost in your fascination.
"Originally, I'm from what you'd consider the opposite, actually."
Though more confused than ever, you manage to unearth the box. The bone is nowhere to be seen, and at the moment, you don't really care for it. If you ever need to summon him again, you'll just have to dig a little for it beforehand. The rectangular wooden object goes back in the bag, and you walk towards the car with it in one hand and the shovel in the other. All while thinking deeply.
Through the years, you've seen a lot of movies containing supernatural elements. You wouldn't say that demons are your favorite, that spot belongs to vampires solely for their ability and need to consume blood and technically being dead. Drawing parallels between those badly CGI:d movies and this feels a little stupid, but fiction's gotta come from somewhere, right?
It takes a moment of silence for you to stow away the things in the back of your car and then go to prop yourself up next to the demon. He remains lying down, and you opt to just sit beside him. You observe him from over your shoulder.
"You were an angel."
He meets your gaze, and for the first time, you get to see him speechless. He didn't expect you to get it right, at least not to just state it like that. Big eyes flicker over your face as he attempts to figure out what to say, if he wants to talk about it at all, that is. If you're correct, and you're pretty sure that you are, then perhaps it's traumatic for him.
"You got that just from me saying I came from 'heaven?'"
"Well, you also said that you're different from most demons as you have your own physical body. The 'things' you said you have... are they wings?"
Your voice is deliberately soft to avoid upsetting him, but he simply laughs it off. There's an uncomfortable underlying tone to it.
"You don't have to answer that if you don't want to," you assure.
He sits up, causing both of you to stare straight ahead into the distance.
"You're smart, I'll give you that. I didn't think you'd get it." To you, it wasn't exactly rocket science—who else comes from heaven except a god, if there is one—but you keep your mouth shut, wanting to hear what he has to say. "But yeah, I'm not a born demon, I'm a made one. Got cast out from heaven and my wings clipped."
"You don't strike me as someone who'd like to talk about it, but if you ever do, then I'd listen, you know?" You watch him with sincerity before it hits you. "Well, before the fourteenth."
He smiles, but it's not as genuine as you've seen him smile before.
"Of course, you wouldn't wanna miss out on hearing the gossip, would you?"
You shake your head at his assumption.
"No. I won't lie and say I'm not curious." You are, about everything, but especially about the reason he got cast out. "But I offered if there's even a small chance it would make you feel better. I don't know if you have something to even talk about, I just threw it out there. It's rough, being lonely."
The last part, you mutter quietly, unsure if the demon even hears it.
"I'm sorry," you sigh. "I guess I'm overstepping."
"Yeah, you are," he replies, sounding much more irritated than you thought he was. "I don't need an insignificant human to psychoanalyze me."
Getting off the car, he dusts himself off as he turns to face you. "Don't summon me again."
And then, he's gone.
The demon, whose name you still don't know, served as a great distraction. But now, when he's explicitly ordered you not to summon him again, you have no choice but to obey. You know he said the contract was sealed and that none of you could break it, but you still don't want to risk anything by angering him.
Out of the twenty-one days you agreed upon, six have already passed by, and with each second, your meetings with the demon feels more and more like a fever dream.
You spend the days like they're nothing out of the ordinary, like they're not your last on this earth. The luxury of quitting your job isn't one you have.
The alarm rings earlier than you'd wish on your worst enemy, and you start getting yourself and your little sister ready. Dahyun is only five, but she's well used to this routine by now, so it usually goes by pain-free.
With the sleepy little girl either on your hip—even though she's honestly way too big now—or using your hold on her hand to be powered forward, you walk up to your neighbors' door.
Not a day goes by when you don't thank your lucky stars for the elderly couple that watches Dahyun during the day so that you can work. The Mins know about your situation, have seen all three of you grow up and early on decided to help you with nothing expected in return.
Your job at the close-by convenience store is another thing you're grateful for. It leaves much to be desired pay-wise, but since it's open twenty-four hours a day, you're lucky to get quite a lot of hours. In the end, it pays for the tiny apartment, food, clothes, and the necessary bills. What it fails to pay is Taehyung's medical bills.
The days go by quickly. You work, pick up Dahyun, drive to the hospital to see your brother, and then you go home to collapse on your bed. Work is busy as always, never really giving you time to sit down and breathe. Still, you seem to always have time to worry.
Taehyung is seventeen. In less than six months, he'll be eighteen, a legal adult. Ideally, you'd want to stick around for that, if not to spend more time with them, then to at least make sure whatever money and things you have will make it safely to him. But he doesn't have six months. Well, now he does; he's received them from you.
He's so tired when you go to see him. Often sleeping, it leaves you to sit by his side in the uncomfortable armchair with Dahyun in your lap, or if she's at the elderly neighbors', crawl into the small hospital bed with him. You've always been close, and you like to hold his head to your chest and stroke his hair.
The short hair on Taehyung's head is both a blessing and a curse; it's nice to see him start looking like himself again, but it's also the result of canceled chemotherapy. It didn't work.
One evening, after spending hours going through your will with the cheapest lawyer you could find, you're once again at the hospital. Taehyung was allowed to come home for a while, but these days he's in so much pain that the hospital is more comfortable. At least they can manage it.
Visiting hours are over, have been for quite some time now, but the nurses usually make exceptions for you and Dahyun. It's not ideal, it's much better to go home for the night, but occasionally, you end up falling asleep in that chair. The tiny body of your sister is snuggled up next to Taehyung, and they're sleeping soundly.
The room is dark, but the light from the corridor seeps through the crack underneath the door. Although you know they're trying to be invisible, the shadows tell you when the nurses pass by.
You hold Taehyung's warm hand carefully as to not wake him up. Despite belonging to your baby brother, it's much larger than yours, and you're left reminiscing of the time he joyously found out he'd surpassed you in height.
The past year has been unbearable, it still is, because even though he will be cured, you will have to leave him. Leave them. It's been eight days since you first met with the demon, which means that in thirteen days, you will be ripped away from them. The only stability they've had for years. Ever since your dad died.
Taehyung's gonna have to step up and take your place as the make-shift parent. Luckily, his shoulders won't be weighed down by the entire responsibility, because although they're not rich by any means, the Mins promised a long time ago that if anything happened to you, they'd take Tae and Dahyun in.
"I love you," you lean down to whisper against his hand. "No one loves anyone like I love you."
"That's not true."
At the sound of his mumbled words, you lift your head. Taehyung's awake, watching you through tired eyes. "I love you more. Promise you won't forget about me?"
You nearly sob at his small plea. It's the hardest thing you've ever done, having to keep Taehyung believing he's going to die when you know he'll be perfectly fine. The demon is right, it would hurt them more to know the truth.
Tears are starting to blur your vision, and you try desperately to blink them away and smile reassuringly. You hope they won't forget about you.
"We'd never forget about you, Tae."
"Dahyun might. She's still so little."
The both of you look down at the child sleeping with her head on Taehyung's chest. Something breaks in him, and he sniffles. "I don't want to die."
You stand up quickly, and despite the ache it puts in your tired back, you lean down to hug your brother tightly. 'You won't,' you want to say. 'You'll live.'
"It's going to be alright," you whisper as you cradle his head to you. "You know miracles happen, right? They happen to good people when they feel the least hopeful. And if you're not good, I don't know anyone who is. So we'll keep praying for a miracle, okay?"
You fall asleep in that chair, holding onto Taehyung's hand. You don't notice the hospital blanket that gets stolen from a supply closet and draped over you, nor do you notice the shadow that executes those actions or how it's been watching you.
The numbers are all you can think about as they continue to rush past you. You've managed to cut down your shifts with an hour or two, not enough to make it suspicious, but enough to give you a little more time in the evenings.
Those hours are, of course, spent by Taehyung's side with Dahyun close by. On the rare occasion you actually leave the hospital to go home and sleep, or shower and change before work, you're anxious. That's the reason you prefer not to be away from Taehyung. Dahyun, you can always take with you wherever you go, except for work.
What you don't expect when you've returned late and locked the front door behind you and Dahyun, and walked into your bedroom, is a hand to clamp down over your mouth.
Your very first instinct is to scream, but the hand successfully muffles it, and a robust arm around your middle and over your arms renders you immovable.
"Shh, it's me, Je—the demon," the low voice whispers right next to your ear. It calms you, because you do recognize that voice.
But your heart that's just begun to slow back down isn't given much rest when you consider the fact that the demon is, in fact, in your room. The last you saw of him, you accidentally offended him.
The hand over your mouth is removed slowly, as if to make sure you won't scream. You don't. You're frozen in place, painfully aware of the solid body your back is pressed into. It's dark, you didn't get the chance to turn the lights on before you were attacked, and even if you had, you're not sure you would've dared to turn around anyway.
"There's still e—eleven days left," you stutter hopelessly.
"I know. I'm not here to collect."
Even though you can't possibly imagine why he's decided to visit you, you don't ask. Instead, you leave it open for him to elaborate, which he does.
"I need your help."
The statement is what makes you let go of the fear that's been pulsing through your veins. What?
"How would I be able to help you?" The tone of your voice, you notice, sounds so surprised that it's bordering on rude. "I—I mean, I'm just a human."
Despite potentially and accidentally offending him a second time, you start turning your body around to face the demon. His arm pulls you closer to his chest, stopping your movements. It's like he doesn't want you to see him.
"I'm being hunted," he mutters angrily, so close to your ear that it sends shivers through your body. "Those fuckers... I'm hurt, and I need you to take a look at me."
The demon, who you owe so much, doesn't need to be polite. But when he adds a softer 'please,' you're once again attempting to turn around. This time, he loosens the arm around you, and you're quick to move, taking a step back to be able to see him better.
Reaching out, your hand flicks the light switch on in a swift move, and you gasp silently.
The demon in the corner of your room is injured. The first thing you're able to focus on are the wings. They're big, mostly long and lacking height, and you can tell it's not how they're supposed to be. The black feathers are there, but not as many of them as there should be. They should be abundant, long, full, shiny. Instead, they're sparser, short... dull. Something drips and joins a small puddle on the floor. Blood.
Under your scrutinizing gaze, the wings twitch, forcing your eyes to focus on the demon's face. He's uncomfortable, doesn't want to meet your eyes. It's like he's... ashamed.
Light footsteps jolt you out of your frozen state, and you're quickly reminded that your little sister is also in the apartment.
"Dahyun... I need to put her to bed. I'll be back," you inform hastily, doing your best to sound gentle and unjudging as you grab at the door. You don't want to know how your little sister would react to the supernatural being that's dressed in all black and dripping blood all over your wooden floor.
It's ten pm, Dahyun should've been asleep for hours by now, you curse to yourself as you locate the sleepy girl. You usher her to her own room, the one she demanded to be decorated in pastel yellow and blue. It's a bright room, in contrast to the rest of the apartment that no one bothered to really decorate.
She wants a glass of water, and you rush to the kitchen after instructing her to change into her pajamas. Getting Dahyun to brush her teeth completely slips your mind, and maybe she realizes and takes advantage of that. She never liked getting her teeth brushed.
"Goodnight, baby," you speak softly as she pulls the covers up to her chin. Despite feeling anxious about the demon on the other side of the thin wall, you do your best not to sound stressed.
"Night," she responds and yawns. "See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow, I love you."
After a quick kiss to her forehead, you exit her room, closing the door quietly behind you before dashing back to your bedroom. It's been less than ten minutes, but you feel rude for making him wait.
He's exactly where you left him, standing almost behind the door when you open it to let yourself back in. You have a hard time believing that it's the same being that you kissed at the desolate crossroad. He was so... smug, so unapologetically cocky.
The face you're looking up at now holds a different set of emotions. You can't discern them all, but they have one thing in common: vulnerability. It comes with a plethora of other feelings, it's not surprising that it frustrates him to have to ask for help. Couldn't anyone else help him?
"Is it your back?" That's where the blood is coming from, it seems. He nods. "Okay, uhm, turn around?"
The demon obeys your gentle instructions, albeit still reluctantly. Since you already know he's hurt, and he's revealed that he's being hunted, the arrow doesn't shock you too much.
It's terrible, of course, how it seems to have pierced his wing and lodged itself in the flesh of his back through his shirt.
You don't have a medical degree, but the first step is clear. "The shirt needs to go." It's ripped around the arrow and wings anyway. It makes you wonder how shirts and occasional wings go together, but it's not something you voice.
His head nods, only partially visible from where your standing. He's tall, taller than Taehyung. Granted, Taehyung is still a teenager. A very sick teenager at that.
"I'll get some scissors," you mumble, but it's more of a suggestion as you watch his face.
"Yeah. It's ruined anyway," he voices your previous thoughts. "I can't put them away when there's something going through them."
You figure he's talking about the wings. The curiosity is there, it always is, never goes away, but now, it's at the back of your mind. Frustration is evident in how he mutters the words, but he's still hesitant when you reach for the scissors on your cluttered desk.
His gaze follows your pointing finger and lands on your bed. "But, I'm bleeding," he argues, and he's right. The bleeding may have slowed down a little, but the various sized drops of red that hit the floor are still many. For some reason, your heart does a quick tap dance at the thought that the demon is worried about staining your bedsheets.
However, the problem is quickly solved by a thick towel spread out on the edge of the bed. The demon sits down on it, and you position yourself on your knees behind him. The wing that's closest to the headboard is folded up to fit, but the other is stretched out, creating a barrier between the two of you.
There's a silence that envelops you as you carefully start to cut away at the fabric. There's something else there too; a tension. Not awkward, but... anxious.
As the sharp scissors glide through the black shirt, more and more of the demon's skin is revealed to you. It creates an entire new tear in your poor heart that's suffered so much already.
"Oh..." You want to say his name, tell him how sad it makes you to see the scars and burns that cover areas of his otherwise milky skin. He's labeled, stamped with burning letters of a language you've never seen.
But you don't know his name. And you don't ask for it either. You feel guilty, like you don't deserve it.
Just like whatever happened to his wings, the injuries to his skin are old. What's left of his shirt falls to the bed, and you can assess the severity of them. The short writings are burned onto his right shoulder, partially obscured by his wing, and you run your gentle fingertips over the markings. Besides the text, he's covered in scars that tell stories of fights, weapons, and adrenaline.
"I'm sorry people want to hurt you," you mumble. It's tough, deciding what to say. Overstepping and thus offending the demon isn't something you want to risk.
He only hums as an answer, and your attention turns to the silver arrow nearly parallel to his body. There are many things you don't know about him and whatever place he comes from, you realize.
The arrow is long but thin, and for a second, it looks as if it's phasing in and out of reality. Like it's glitching. His kind must be able to move between dimensions or something. Can he be in different dimensions at the same time? How did he hide those wings from you?
Well, you guess an ordinary arrow isn't enough to take down a demon.
"What do you want me to do? Do I just... pull it out?"
"Yeah. The hunters clearly don't know that I'm no regular demon. It's not too bad, I just can't reach it, myself. Fucking hunters, there's so many of them these days."
"Oh, okay... Well, I need something to cut it with..." An image of the red bolt cutters your landlord once forgot and never picked up comes to mind. Once again, the demon is left in your room, and you rush to find the tool.
A vague memory tells you that you left them under the sink in the bathroom for easy access if the landlord came knocking for them, and luckily, you're correct.
With the bolt cutters, you manage to snip the arrow into smaller parts. You're trying your very best to not yank anything around, and if it's painful, the demon isn't showing it.
Red colors your hands while you're working, but it doesn't bother you, you've never been particularly squeamish. Remarkably, the bleeding stops the second the foreign bodies are removed.
All that's left now is to clean the red away from your skin, his and yours. You wash your hands in the bathroom, and then you use a smaller, wet towel to dab over his back.
"You're very quiet."
The words make you pause for just a moment. "So are you."
He chuckles tiredly, "I thought you'd ask questions."
"I don't want to overstep," you say quietly, reminded by his departing words from another day.
"I'm sorry," you sigh. "I guess I'm overstepping."
"Yeah, you are," he replies, sounding much more irritated than you thought he was. "I don't need an insignificant human to psychoanalyze me."
Getting off the car, he dusts himself off as he turns to face you. "Don't summon me again."
"I'm just a human, I doubt I'll understand anyway."
"Hmm, maybe not. But I won't kill you for asking." His attempt at lightening the mood is appreciated, but not really working. It's just a reminder that you'll be gone soon. Still, you put on a brave face.
"Okay, well... these are from when you were cast from heaven? And your wings were... clipped?"
Your fingers trace the raised letters again, earning a shiver from the demon. When the shock ignited by his injuries has died down, you can begin to appreciate the rest of him. All the things inflicted on his body with the purpose of hurting and humiliating him fail to do so in your eyes. He looks so strong and powerful, like the otherwordly being that he is. Oh, to be his equal.
He doesn't seem to mind your touch. Your hand dances lower, over his spine, and where the two wings sprout from his back. If you're going to die, you want to at least have touched an angel's wings when one's right in front of you.
"Yeah. You should've seen me before, Y/n, I had the most majestic wings..."
He trails off, but you notice how he speaks of his wings with fondness that evolves into sadness. You feel for him, you really do. Your hand trails the upper bone of his right wing. It's solid, yet soft due to the feathers. Sure, perhaps his wings look disheveled and a little scrawny, but they're still breathtaking.
"I love them," you admit, eyes taking in every single detail. You're confident he's the most beautiful thing you'll ever see. He definitely trumps everything so far, and you don't exactly have much time left for anything else to swipe in and steal the first position.
The sound of the door opening behind you is enough to pull you out of the bubble you've been in. There's absolutely no time for you to hide the demon from Dahyun.
"A monster!! Y/n, there's a monster!!"
You scramble out of bed to kneel in front of her. Besides the deep-set want to never see her scared, getting complaints of late-night screaming isn't on your wish list either, to say the least.
Your usually tough little sister is frightened, clinging to your arms and hiding herself in your embrace. Rocking and shushing her, you do your best to comfort her. It breaks your heart when you hear her sniffles and feel how they shake her body. She tries to drag you towards the door by your shirt, but it doesn't do much.
"Shh, baby, he's not a monster. I promise he won't hurt you, okay?" You whisper in her ear. At first, it only makes her hug you harder, but eventually, she starts to calm down. But she's still all sniffles and red eyes.
"It's scary," she whispers back, straightening up a bit to cautiously look over your shoulder at the monster on your bed. He's turned his body around a bit, looking over his own shoulder at the two of you. You figure his lack of movement is to avoid scaring her further.
"Hey, Dahyun, that's a little mean, don't you think?" You warn her playfully. "I'll tell you what... he's an angel."
"Really?" She looks at you with her big, teary eyes, and you smile softly. She's always been fascinated by angels and princesses and the likes.
"Mhm, do you wanna say hi?" You figure she should see for herself that the demon—angel, in her case—isn't actually evil. It would be awful if she started having nightmares. Especially when you won't be around to hold her at night.
"Yeah," she sniffles and wipes her tears on her pajama shirt.
You pick her up and set her down on the bed next to you. The demon turns around further, and you catch him looking... a little nervous, like he's worried. He doesn't strike you as someone who likes children, but you don't plan on letting Dahyun stay up for long. Just a 'hi' to see that he's not a monster and then off to bed.
"Hi," she mumbles, fidgeting with her hands. If you're not mistaken, it looks like she's... blushing. It amuses you thoroughly. Seeing more of the demon than just his wings and scars seems to have swayed her opinion, and you're reminded that Dahyun's young age also contributes to her quick changes in mood.
"Hello," the demon answers politely and offers her his hand. It's a cute, yet strange gesture for someone like him, and your heart swells because it looks like he's actually trying. "What's your name?"
He knows her name already, you told him earlier.
"Dahyun," she says and shakes his hand. Hers is wholly swallowed in the palm of the demon's, and it makes you grin. "What's yours?"
Your eyes widen. He surely didn't think that through. You're searching your brain for something to say, maybe even a fake name to give him, but you're blanking.
"That's a pretty name," he smiles towards her. The compliment causes her to squirm and the blush on her face to deepen. "You can call me JK."
He looks up at your surprised eyes with his soft ones. A hesitant smile graces his lips, and no wonder your little sister seems to have fallen for him already. Perhaps you have, too.
"Okay, Dahyun, time for bed!"
Before you have the chance to usher her to her own room, she stops you with an urgent look. "Wait!"
"What is it? It's very late, you should be sleeping by now."
She motions for you to come closer. It's a recognizable gesture, one that means she wants to whisper something to you. You lean down, and she cups her hand around her mouth that she brings to your ear.
"Can you—can you ask JK if he wants to, uh, marry me?"
Your heart feels like it's too big for your body. You know Dahyun is doing her very best to whisper so quietly that the demon—well, JK, if that's his real name—won't hear, but you're pretty sure he can anyway.
She removes her hand and tugs on your sleeve to really get her point across. You mirror her actions from before to answer her with a whisper of your own.
"I thought you were going to marry a prince?"
Your hand is quickly removed so that she can correct you through another whisper. You watch the demon as you both hear Dahyun's words. JK is looking down, trying to hide the smile that looks almost... flustered?
"I think maybe he is both? If he's not, then it's okay. But can you ask him, please?"
"Ask him yourself," you say when it's your turn again. Dahyun pouts at you, but turns back to the demon, and for a brief second, you think she's going to do it.
"Uh, can I touch your wings?"
You giggle at her blush and how she chickened out. JK looks amused as well but turns back around. "Yeah."
Dahyun goes for it immediately, running her hand back and forth and up and down with the inherent clumsiness of a child. It's like she's lovingly petting a dog, and you let it go on for a moment since the demon doesn't seem to mind it either.
"Okay, enough now, time for bed."
Before you even know what's happening, the little rascal leans forward and places a kiss onto the demon's shoulder before she laughs with glimmering eyes and jumps down from the bed. You watch her figure run out from your room, and you can hear her door close further down the hall.
A giggle erupts from you as you watch JK clearly surprised at what just occurred.
"She gave you a kiss."
"I, uh... yeah," he chuckles. "I've met many humans—too many—but I've never been, uh, proposed to."
"Well, she chickened out last minute, but yeah. You're a real hit with the ladies it seems, Prince-Angel."
"Oh, please. I am neither of those," he rolls his eyes.
You glance at him carefully. Although this was one of the cutest moments you've ever witnessed, your body is heavy with sadness. It hurts all the way through. Every bone, every muscle.
"You are to us. To me."
His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you get the feeling that he understands. But you know he doesn't, he's a demon who doesn't like humans. He makes deals to collect souls. But you're so, so grateful for him. He's saved your brother, and you could live for an eternity and a half and never be able to repay him. You hope he at least understands that.
Since JK's black shirt lies discarded and destroyed on your bed, you offer him one of Taehyung's. The demon listens to you stutter about how, even though he's bigger than your brother, Taehyung likes oversized shirts, so you're sure some will fit.
You spend a minute in your brother's abandoned room, rummaging through the old drawer that holds Taehyung's shirts, but when you return with a black one gripped in one hand, the demon is gone.
A sigh escapes you. It would be a lie to say that you're not enamored by JK, that he doesn't make your heart speed up. You hold the shirt to your chest. Maybe it's for the best, do you really want to feel the most alive right before your life's going to end?
There are still many things that need to be done before you can pass with the knowledge that you did what you could to prepare your siblings for a life without you. Taehyung's eighteenth birthday is coming up in a few months, so is Dahyun's sixth. Life is going to continue for them.
An old movie comes to mind. It's been years since you saw it, so you don't remember the title or most of the plot, just that someone dies and leaves letters for their loved ones. For each big occasion, they receive a message in the mail containing words of encouragement. And of course, reminders of a love that is no longer.
You can't figure out how the dead person managed to get the envelopes to arrive on time even years after their death, but it doesn't matter, you don't intend to actually post them, just leave them for your siblings to find. You hope that they'll follow the instructions on the envelopes and open them at the right time. There hasn't really been a reason for you to have fancy papers and pens, so you'll have to settle for ripping pages from an old lined notebook and writing with regular ink pens.
Eighteenth birthday, sixth... twentieth, tenth, twenty-fifth, fifteenth... It hits you that your siblings are going to grow older than you are now. Graduations, marriages... firstborns... families...
The pen glides smoothly over the pages as you try to put your love onto paper. You don't cry, which is a surprise, but your entire being is filled with sadness.
The sun's already started to rise when you put the letters into an empty shoebox. Six are finished, but you want to write more in the coming days.
As you pull the covers away to finally get some well-needed rest, you notice something that's been buried in the deeper wrinkles of your bedspread.
It's long and black. You handle it with care, but the damage's been done already; it's broken in the middle.
A lot of things have accumulated over the years, and during one weekend, you try your hand at listing a few things online—especially clothes. You've always been careful with your belongings, wanting them to hold for a long time. But you won't need them any longer, so why not make it easier for your family and sell them? They'll need every penny they can get.
Another thing that will need to be done is... planning your funeral. The sites, which you are scrolling somberly, all have lovely coffins, but the prices are way too steep. You swallow thickly and inspect your hands anxiously. It itches under your skin, but the cremation and urn combination offered on the screen is undoubtedly the cheaper alternative. You just don't want to be burned into ashes.
It's that, the thought of your body burning, that erupts your first real panic attack. June fourteenth is ten days away, and you're scared. The body—your body—that's carried you through every single moment you've ever lived, is going to be lifeless and disposed of in a matter of days. Burned or buried, you will never know for sure.
It's difficult to breathe, and you feel like the world is closing in on you. You're just lucky that you're in the comfort of your own home, sitting on your own bed and pressed to the headboard.
But before it gets too bad, you feel something wash over you. It's like a wave of calmness that rolls through your room and hits you. There's no one else with you in there, but suddenly you don't feel so alone. Your body feels weightless, like all the massive weight you've been carrying for years on your shoulders have been lifted by someone. The intense, tranquil feeling takes you out shortly after, dropping you into a deep slumber.
From the moment you returned with the shirt, only to see the room empty and the demon gone, you accepted that you won't see him again. Well, unless he shows up to kill you in person when the time's up.
But you were mistaken. You do see him again.
It's the day after the interrupted panic attack. Taehyung and Dahyun are sleeping in his bed, and you're staring lazily at the shadows that walk by on the other side of the door.
The chair you're sitting in—the same as always—has finally angered your back to the point of no return. With a sigh, you get up and look towards the floor.
The corner ends up uncomfortable but slightly better than the chair, whose backrest cuts off in the middle of your back. You put your knees up, the rubber soles of the shoes you're still wearing prevents your legs from flattening along the floor, and thus you from slipping down.
Although lightly, you're asleep by the time something stirs you. Your eyes flutter open to see a figure bending down towards you. You realize who it is the same second he picks you up, one arm under your knees and the other around your back. Maybe it's the sleep that still clouds the decision making part of your brain, but you find yourself trusting him blindly.
You're about to say something, probably mumble some intelligible question for what he's doing, but he interrupts you quietly.
The demon places himself in the corner and slides down until he's sitting down where you just were.
"Sleep on me."
The position lets you rest your back against the wall and your head on his shoulder as he holds you. In a moment of clarity, you remember Taehyung. What if he wakes up to see you cuddled up to a strange man in his own hospital room?
"I won't let him see me, it's okay."
And you trust him. He's too good to pass up on. There's not much body fat on him, but the solid muscles you know are there are surprisingly soft when he's relaxed.
"Thank you, JK. I know that's not your real name, but I can still use it, right?" The question is mumbled against his neck, and you don't even open your eyes to do it.
You think he hums a 'yes,' but you're not sure. Because not long after, his calm breathing, steady heartbeats, and gentle hands in your hair lull you to sleep.
When you wake up, Taehyung is awake, and the demon has vanished once again.
Working long shifts at the supermarket when your days have red-painted numbers on them is tough. Eight days to go, and you're stuck mopping up spilled juice from isle five.
The light at the end of the tunnel is the last hour and a half when the agreement with your boss kicks in, and you get to leave earlier. Your feet ache, but not as bad as usual, and you're grateful that your place of work is only a few minutes from your apartment. All you have left to do now is to pick up Dahyun from the Mins' and together, visit Taehyung.
It brings a smile to your face to see your brother up and walking. He's feeling better today, not as painful as the last couple of weeks, and he takes the opportunity to visit the few other kids he's befriended at the ward. You know that he sees the bags under your eyes and that it's the reason he urges you to go home and sleep. His smile and twinkling eyes are convincing, one thing he inherited from your mother, and so you tell him to call if he regrets sending you away, and you leave.
You and Dahyun eat and practice some reading before you put her to bed at eight pm, a reasonable bedtime for a five-year-old, after all. You, however, choose to do what you decided as soon as you saw the broken feather on your bed; fix it.
The feather is partially stained with blood, but since it's JK's blood, you don't want to wash it off. You don't know why, but if you're going to keep it for Taehyung and Dahyun, you want it to be as authentic as possible. A feather from a fallen angel coated in its original owner's blood.
The fracture along its spine is mended by gluing a chopstick to the back, and with the extra support, it stands proudly. You have a box with all of your personal and most important belongings, and you decide that'll be its future home. But first, you write a note to accompany it. You'd be horrified if the feather was found, mistaken for that of a common bird's, and thrown away.
'Feather from the angel that saved Taehyung.'
You weren't lying when you told JK that he was an angel to you.
You turn, startled, towards the corner of your room from where the voice sounded. The erratic beating of your heart makes you put your hand over it as if the action alone would calm it. Maybe it's more of a gesture for him to stop scaring you half to death. He smiles. You mirror it.
It's the second night in a row that he visits you—third if you count the night at the hospital—and you won't lie and claim that it doesn't bring you joy. There are tons of emotions connected to him, but a majority are positive. You like him—a lot. A question burns in the back of your mind, what does he feel?
"How'd you guess?" You refer to yesterday when he showed up, and you talked for an hour. The topic of conversation was mostly you, including your occasional insomnia, and even though you only got a few minor answers and a 'thank you for the help' in return, you still feel like you know the demon better.
He definitely knows you better, although you never spoke a word of the deal, your impending death, or the tragic backstory of your family. You thought he knew everything about you, since he's used information not given to him before—like your name—but after asking, he told you that he can see snapshots of a person's life. Not every single detail, just images displaying what really matters to them.
One thing you still don't know is his real name.
You haven't brought it up again, and you won't. It's just how it's going to be, and if it's true that knowing it gives you power over him, then you respect his decision of not revealing it. Granted, you're curious beyond belief; JK doesn't really suit him in your opinion, but you almost don't want him to tell you either.
JK doesn't answer your rhetorical question, instead he plops down on your bed next to you and eyes the laptop.
"What are you doing?"
"Watching a movie. Apparently, this was my mom's favorite, and since I've never seen it before, I thought I'd give it a go."
"Oh. What's it about?"
"Love, I guess," you say, eyes trained on the two characters on the screen. A man and a woman are standing at a pier, talking. "She loved that sorta thing, so I'm not really surprised."
"She loved love?" JK asks teasingly. He lies down next to you. Elbow jutting into the mattress, he uses his hand to support his head.
"Yeah. Always went on and on about the 'big love' and how my dad was her 'one in a lifetime.'"
"And you don't share her mindset? About the 'big love,' I mean?"
"No, I do. It's just that... I'm a little jealous," you admit shyly. You summoned him, struck the deal. You have no right to complain.
"Surely, you've dated?" He asks, one eyebrow raised. How much does he know bout your life?
"I have. But it was never like... I don't know, I guess I just wanted a taste of that love that's so strong, you go kinda stupid from it, you know? The one where you can't stop thinking of them, their voice... their scent..."
"Hmm, I never knew humans felt that kind of emotions," he hums the way you might do after hearing the news of your neighbors' new car. 'Huh.'
"We do. Well, I don't, since I never got the chance to... but as a whole, humans are incredible. I know you're not very fond of us, but I hope maybe that can change someday." Even though I won't be around.
His jaw tightens, and your first thought is that you've upset him.
"I didn't mean that I'm not grateful, because I am! I really am!" Your outburst only results in the demon's eyes narrowing. Shit, you've done it now. "You saved my baby brother, and that means the world to me."
"Stop. Just stop doing that," he sighs and shuts his eyes tightly. You can't make out if it's mental exhaustion or irritation. Or both.
"Act like I'm such a fucking hero. All I did was grant the wish. You're the one who pays the price for it."
You're visibly taken aback. Wanting to sacrifice yourself for someone you hold dear isn't exactly exclusive to you. A lot of people would beg for a demon like JK to come along and offer them the same kind of deal.
He must see the confusion and disagreement on your face, because he continues. "I've... seen you. I've kept an eye on you, and I've never seen a human like you. You've given up everything for your siblings. Everything. I've heard you talking to them, how you try to comfort Taehyung, make him hope for a miracle when you've already taken his place. Dahyun... she's very little, and only your half-sister, but you care for her like a mother would. You even deny yourself the final resting place you want because it's more expensive with a coffin. And yet, you write 'feather of the angel that saved Taehyung,' on a note to go with a broken feather of mine. You even fixed the goddamn thing!"
Your lips are slightly parted as you stare at him with wide eyes. He's gotten up to sit beside you, and he's so close you can't think. It's just like that cursed day when you summoned him the first time. Only two weeks have passed, but it feels like a different lifetime. The kiss, how you desperately wanted to let him know how incredibly relieved and thankful you were.
He leans in closer, and you notice that your mouth is the object of his fascination. "If anyone's the angel here, it's you."
Like the first kiss, he makes sure you want it, but unlike it, he's the one who closes the distances and touches his lips to yours. Right before, you think you see his eyes turn red, but it doesn't bother you. JK tastes the same, something sweet that makes you want to keep tasting him until you die from asphyxiation.
The movie is quickly ended when one of his large, veiny hands shut the laptop without looking at it. But you can't stop worrying about it, so you mumble 'put it on the floor,' onto his lips. He sighs dramatically, at which you giggle, but obeys and places the device gently on the floor. Then he's back to kissing you. And you were right, his eyes are red, but it's strangely beautiful. Red really suits him.
You're grabbed by your thighs, and somehow, JK manages to twist you around so that he's in your place, back leaning against the headboard, and you're on his lap, thighs on either side of him. The sweatpants and t-shirt you're wearing makes you appear very underdressed compared to JK's black slacks and dress shirt, but you were about to go to bed, so you'd argue it's forgivable.
Your arms find their place around his neck, and his hands are slowly stroking your thighs. Up and down, up and down. He breaks away to look up at you, and you find yourself speechless at his immense beauty. You remember being shocked at how... ordinary he seemed when you first saw him. True, he has no horns—that you know of—but he really is far from ordinary. The sheer beauty alone tells you that he's been hand-crafted, so close to perfection you can get.
"I wanna make you feel good," he says, rolling his hips up into you, giving you a feel of what's growing harder and harder underneath. You gasp, and he takes your chin in one hand and leads your mouth back to his.
"I can fuck you so good, you'll never want anyone else," JK's voice is low against your lips. Seductive, but also desperate and strained. You don't remind him that you only have a few days left, and when he doesn't get a quick enough answer, he tries again. "Or you can ride me. However you want. Use me to pleasure yourself."
A moan slips out from you as he guides your hips over his crotch. Dahyun, you have to remind yourself.
"Dahyun, she can't hear," you voice your concern. You've done a good job at keeping your voices down this far, but the walls are thin, and you can't risk her hearing what you're up to.
"She won't," he assures, "she's sleeping."
You don't know how he knows that, but you trust him. He watches you as you bite your lip and consider the offer. You have the chance to fuck a demon, a fallen angel, someone you really like. Even if that's not what you're supposed to do, how could you pass that up?
"One condition. Well, two since we'd also have to be quick," you say, meeting his eyes. He wonders what you could possibly ask of him. "I want to see your wings."
For a second, he slows the movements down and looks at you like you just mended his entire heart.
"I love them." I love you. I wish I had more time.
He shakes his head slightly and laughs. You've seen it before, but it's always been more of a smug laugh. Never genuine like this.
Fingers trailing down to unbutton his shirt, you point out, "You're always wearing the same outfit." His hands grip at your ass, forcing you forward. The action makes you rub yourself over his ever-growing bulge hard, and you both moan at the same time.
"It's the uniform. Black pants and dress shirt," he mutters. It surprises you, and you giggle.
"You have a dress code?"
"Yeah. Is it working? Does it make me look more professional? Like you can't wait to make a deal with me?"
The last button is the toughest, and your hands struggle with it. "Help," you huff, gaining JK's attention.
He laughs again, moving yours away to get the button undone with his own, capable hands. You wait patiently, and when it seems like he's done, you push the material from his shoulders. His chest looks the same as his back, filled with scars and with the same kind of stamp over his right pectoral muscle.
"It works," you begin to answer his question, but your gaze lingers on the text that you can't read. "But only because you look great in black, and it doesn't distract from your natural beauty."
"My natural beauty?" He questions, and you know that tone; he's teasing you. You run your fingers over the raised skin, enjoying the shiver it evokes from him. His mouth finds yours again, and you have to continually break away for a few seconds to speak and breathe.
"Yeah. I don't know if it's a demon or angel thing, or just a JK thing, but you're super pretty."
"Hmm, I don't know, I think you're prettier." He kisses you again, and you smile against his lips. "Now, please, take this off."
The demon's hands are on your t-shirt. He hasn't tried to touch your chest yet, but the shirt is of the looser kind, so he can definitely see that you're not wearing a bra. You put your hands over his in a warning.
He scrunches his nose in an act so adorable you don't know what to do with yourself, but nonetheless, he lets his wings out. You don't know how—you have no fucking idea how—but suddenly they're unfolding from behind him.
Immediately, the right one stretches out and knocks over a water bottle from your nightstand. It crashes to the floor—the fall and the accompanying noise successfully softened by the carpet—and bounces slightly, a sign that there wasn't much in there, to begin with. If anything's spilled out, you'll dry it up later.
"Sorry," he apologizes, big eyes surprisingly bashful.
"It's okay," you chuckle and grip your shirt at the hem to pull it over your head. Before you can see him from the other side of the neckline, you feel his hands on your breasts. It doesn't take him long to start tasting you; in fact, you've barely discarded of the shirt by the time he's pulled you closer, your chest to his awaiting mouth and tongue.
You gasp as he sucks and nibbles on your nipple, trying not to mess up the rhythm of your hips. His large hands are splayed over your back, and you grasp softly at his wings. You're careful since you don't know if they hurt or perhaps are sensitive.
At the first contact, they twitch a little, but soon enough, the demon moans and temporarily loses his focus on your chest. The moans are breathy, more air than actual sound, and it's hard to tell what is doing it for him, the stroking of his wings or the roll of your crotch over his, but you're elated nonetheless.
"You wanna ride?" he asks breathlessly, kissing up to your neck. Everything about him is so attractive, it's hard to focus. He's all lean muscle and veins. Low, raspy voice, as he tries to stay quiet, and red eyes. You nod, and he reaches down in between your bodies.
"I'm not one to skip foreplay, and it's not too late to change your mind, but since you wanted it fast..." He's unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his cock.
You gasp at the sight of it. It's hard, massive, and—
"It is ribbed?" Surprise flows through you, and your mouth that's open in shock gains another chuckle from JK, who's so obviously in a good mood. "And big..."
It's one of the prettier sights you've ever seen, the demon smiling brightly up at you with a glint to his eye. And, of course, his veiny cock that stands tall and makes your mouth water.
"Like I said, I'd be happy to prep you with my mouth and fingers," he smirks and pulls you closer so fast that you have to brace your hands against his chest to not lose balance.
It's tempting, the thought of letting him eat you out and stretch you open on his long fingers, but you decline the offer. You know for a fact that it'd be too hard to keep quiet, and besides, you can feel the wetness that's currently ruining your panties.
"I can take it."
"Alright, but tell me otherwise? I don't want to hurt you."
Once again, your heart breaks for him. He doesn't want to hurt you. Does he remember that he's supposed to end your life in a week?
"You're by far the sweetest demon I've met," you joke and kiss him softly. One of his large hands splays over your naked back, holding you close, and the other sneaks up to play with your breast.
"I'm the only demon you've met."
"And I'm glad it was you." If I could go back, I would've chosen another crossroad.
You're both topless but wearing pants, and JK intends to change that as soon as possible, because he toys with the hem of your grey sweatpants. "Get out of these and hop on."
Laughing, it only takes you a second to kick the pants and your underwear off, and by the time you're back in the same position fully naked, he is too.
His black pants make up a part of the pile accumulated on the floor, and you finally get to see his thighs in all their glory. So thick and muscly, you also notice a large scar over one of them, and just like all his other ones, you touch the raised skin lovingly.
The vision of his naked body is adding liters of fuel to the fire that's started inside you. So much, you're sure you'll combust. It goes hand in hand with the pure want you feel for him. You want him. Absolutely everything about him, you want it, and it's devouring you.
He's impatient. He adores your touch, but at the moment, he wants to feel you elsewhere. A hand is held out for you to take, and you grip it tightly to aid you as you climb onto him.
The demon looks very comfortable where he's sat, leaning against the headboard with a satisfied smile on his face. The title 'demon' really suits him, the black hair, dark eyes, and wicked smile, but you really do see the angel in him, too. It's the happy smile, the scrunch of his nose, the crinkle of his eye, and the stars contained there.
"Oh, fuck," you exclaim a little too loudly as you grip his cock. It really is massive and incredibly hard. JK leans his head back, emitting a long, low groan at the friction your hand starts providing him.
You find the prospect of pleasuring him so addicting when he reacts the way he does. It clouds your mind, forces the plan of riding him out from your thoughts as you increase the pace and pressure of your hand. His eyes are shut tightly, and you use both hands to stimulate his entire cock; one focuses on the head, palm swiveling over it repeatedly, and the other strokes up and down the length.
Most of his body looks just like human's, but not his cock. The ribbing on the shaft feels a little peculiar under your fingers, but you love it. He leaks into your hand, and you feel a compelling need to see if the taste resembles that of a human male. Your hands are grabbed and held still over his dick.
"You can't do that if you want me to last longer than a virgin." At his words, you look up to really take in the state of him. He's breathing heavily, coated in a rosy blush, and starting to sweat.
"Fine," you mumble as if you're disappointed, but you know JK sees right through you. Perhaps it has something to do with the smile you can't seem to keep off your lips.
You hold onto his shoulder to help your balance, the other hand brings him to your pussy. His cock gets coated by your arousal, and you moan as you slide the head up and down your slit, all the way to your clit a few times. Then you start to sink down.
Two hands are on your hips to keep you steady, and even though you're lowering yourself onto him slowly, it's still a tight fit. Relax, you keep reminding yourself, and finally, the head pops in, drawing a moan from your lips. The rest follows quicker, easier, although you're still getting used to the stretch, and the ribbed rings are another thing to take into consideration.
"You good?" His question is mumbled against the skin of your neck, and it feels so, so intimate. Everything at this moment is just right.
"Mhm, amazing," you breathe as he's finally buried entirely inside you. There has to be something magical about him, cause you've never felt this good. Your eyes are closed as you try to cherish the moment.
JK lets you take all the time you need, only keeps his hands on your hips where his thumbs are drawing light patterns. When you deem yourself ready, you open your eyes and start to move your hips.
First, you go back and forth, and then you start going up and down. You're not very fit, so it makes your thighs ache. You hold out for a few minutes, too addicted to the delicious feeling of his cock pushing in and out and the quiet sounds it draws from the both of you. The veiny hands on your hips try to help, but it's not doing very much, and soon enough, you have to lean down.
"I'm tired, can you take over?"
You half expect him to tease you for being weak, but all he does is nod confidently, and with his strong arm, lift you slightly and lay you down on your back so that he can crawl over you. It feels too empty when he slides out, and you're elated when he wastes no time in pushing back in. The two black wings are relaxed, hanging limp from his back, and you find yourself being cocooned by them.
"How do you want it," JK asks as he starts fucking you slowly with experienced hips that know just how to move to make you breathless. "Gentle or rough?"
It's not because Dahyun is still sleeping only a wall away and you're scared to be too loud, no, it's because you want it like this. Intimate, soft.
"Be gentle, please."
JK smiles warmly with a miscievious twinkle to his eye. You adore it.
"Lucky you, I'm actually feeling very gentle tonight," he says.
It makes you giggle, a joyful sound that you try to muffle against his arm when a particularly well-executed thrust instead makes you moan.
"Is this good?" The demon's question makes you believe that he's really only interested in pleasuring you, and it fills you with heavy emotions.
"A little faster," you beg softly, and JK is quick to give it to you, increasing the pace of his hips until you're speechless and breathless. You can feel everything. From the ribbing of his hard cock that stimulates every nerve inside, to the warmth he radiates from on top of you. It's both the simplest thing in the universe, but you're also somewhat overwhelmed.
You can't stop your hands from reaching up to grasp his hair at the back of his head between your fingers Tugging on it experimentally, you find that he shuts his eyes briefly in pleasure. But you want to touch him somewhere else too, so one hand remains in his hair, the other ventures lower, pulling him down further so that you can reach his back.
After the first trembling touch, the demon realizes what you want, and he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. It makes it easy to stroke his wings, and you bring both hands to stimulate one each. They seem sensitive, twitching and tensing under your touch, which grants you enormous happiness.
It's so sweet, everything about this night is. Sweet sentences that ignore the fact that you're not lovers. You're not lovers, you're not even friends. The demon hates humans, and in a week, he's supposed to end your life. But it's so sweet, and you've got the biggest craving for him.
He tells quiet jokes that elicit giggles from you, and you know the feelings he surely sees in your eyes. A few of them, at least. Some, you want to keep to yourself.
He knows exactly what you want and need, especially when he starts rubbing your clit with his fingers. It evokes a new need in you, and finally, you beg him to go harder. He obliges, pounding into you so hard, you think you see stars, real stars in his red, glowing eyes.
Whatever you want, you can just ask, and his capable hands will give it to you. All except for one thing. But it's not something either of you mention.
You reach the finish line just before he does, the warmth that fills you up and soon will drip out feels rewarding. You hope that you've managed to change his views on humans, or at least that he might look back to these moments and know that they were real.
There's a feeling that buzzes through your body as you lay spent with your head against JK's chest. It feels like he's cleansed you of so much anxiety and sadness. Somehow you feel complete, like you're finally ready to face the future. The one thing you longed for, you got to taste.
The demon is far kinder than you expected, but he's most likely only feeling lust, he'd never want you like you feel yourself wanting him, and it would be doomed anyway, because you have to choose. JK or your family. JK or Taehyung. Taehyung or you. Taehyung will always come first. There's beauty in it, you think, an ending and a new beginning, all in one. Suddenly, dying doesn't seem so bad.
The wings are wrapped around the both of you, but one just cannot stop tickling your face. The first time you feel the feathers lightly graze your jaw, you consider it an accident. You're both tired.
The second time, you feel a slight rumbling from underneath you, and you start to suspect something. But you don't do anything else besides scrunch your nose at the tickling touch. When it happens for a third time, you grab the wing and hold it at a safe distance from your face.
The rumbling that you heard increases as the demon chuckles. You were correct in doubting his innocence.
"Is it in the job description to be annoying?"
"Hmm, I thought you liked my wings?"
"I do, just not up in my nose."
It goes quiet, and you release the wing. It stays where you held it. For a peaceful while, at least.
"Don't do it," you warn as you see it slowly move closer. Your words don't appear to have an effect. "Don't."
The second it touches your skin, you turn around, your upper body supported by your hands at each side of his narrow waist.
"If you don't stop, right this second, I'm going to pinch you so h—"
"My name is Jeongguk."
The empty threat you were in the middle of uttering dies on your tongue. You're staring at him, the demon that lies underneath you, naked and vulnerable. He's smiling, and you get a glimpse of who he truly is. Warm and soft, it makes your heart ache in longing. He makes it ache.
He nods, and you can feel what he feels. Relief, he feels free, but at the same time, he's scared. It's reasonable and just what you'd imagine your feelings to be, too.
"It gives me power over you, right? Let's me control you?"
"Yes," he gulps, and you understand why he'd be nervous. Giving the wrong person his name would be detrimental. You hope he knows that you never want to hurt him.
"Then I forbid you from tickling me anymore tonight."
The smile that has slowly disappeared from his pink lips breaks out again, and this time, it's bigger than you've ever seen. Jeongguk's eyes crinkle adoringly, and it puts the same kind of smile on your face.
"Your wish is my command."
The smile dies down, and you can tell that he has something else he wants to say. Something more serious.
"Be careful with it. Please?"
You lay down on him again. Skin to skin. A sweet mumble breaks through the silence.
Jeongguk ends up staying the night, and he's still there when you rub the sleep from your eyes in the morning. He's informed you that, although not as much as humans, demons do actually sleep. You don't want to get up, simply stretching your limbs that are even more tired than you, and pull yourself closer to him.
This moment is so perfect, truly the calm before the storm you know you're about to find yourself in the middle of. Maybe it's useless, but you cling onto the weak hope that it goes relatively smoothly.
Eventually, you do get up to get yourself and Dahyun ready for the day. The demon leaves too, kisses you and says that he has demon things to do today. You'd never get used to the black smoke.
The drive is a soothing one. You feel at ease knowing that you've done all that needs to be done with a week to spare. Whatever time's left, you can spend with Taehyung and Dahyun.
You've taken the day off, well, you complained of a stomach ache to your boss, and like the kind man he is, he let you go home. All of this is surprising to you, you've never been much of a liar, always aware that lies only come back to bite you eventually. But maybe this is different; you don't have much to lose.
There aren't a lot of cars going in your direction, and the ones you do see, get fewer over time. The lights in your rearview mirror are somewhat comforting, at least you're not entirely alone.
It's just after dusk when you arrive at the familiar crossroad and start digging. Each time has been faster than the previous, and all that really takes time and effort now, is finding the bone that you didn't bother to look for last time.
Fortunately, the shovel unearths it on the third scoop of dirt, and you place it to the side for later. The air is cooler than it's been in quite some time; you don't even break a sweat.
When you've buried the items for a third time, you see the thick smoke start to solidify.
"Y/n, you know you don't have to summon me. I thought I told you that I'm always listening now, you can just call for me."
His eyes, dark brown, start out being happy, relaxed, although a little confused. The confusion grows, eradicating the competing feelings as he finally looks around to see the other cars.
"Jeongguk," you start, bringing his attention back to you. The smile is gone. You haven't shown him any emotion, just a blank face and a cold voice that he needs to obey. "Don't fight this. Come here, put your hands behind your back, and be quiet."
You don't watch his face as he follows your commands; you don't need to. Instead, you keep your eyes on his chest that's adorned by another black dress shirt. From your peripherals, you can see that he's watching your face. You can only imagine what he's feeling.
A man comes up behind him to restrain his hands with something. Another one puts a black bag over his head and starts to drag him off towards a car. And a third comes up to you.
"Thanks. The money's in your account."
Since everything went according to plan—the hunters receiving their demon, and you driving home still in one piece—you can finally start to breathe again.
You don't know what they're going to do with Jeongguk, but you'd bet it's nothing fun. It rips you apart inside, how you sacrificed him for money, but the truth is that Taehyung and Dahyun wouldn't make it without it. The medical bills have put you in debt, and none of them will be able to earn any money for themselves in a long time.
It was an easy decision when first proposed. You went looking for a way to save your brother and ended up finding these people along the way. They told you about the crossroad demons, what it'd be able to do for you, and that if you managed to get one's name, you'd be generously compensated. You summoned him with the intention of healing Taehyung, nothing more. It’s not like you actively tried to earn his trust only to betray him, but when he willingly gave it, you just couldn’t not do it.
A demon or your family? Your family.
But it hurts.
Two days go by, where you spend every waking moment at the hospital. The stomach ache has evolved into a severe case of the flu, which means that you get to stay home for a few days. You're, of course, planning on milking it for as long as you can so that you can spend your last days with your family.
It's hard to sleep at night, the only thing that runs through your mind are the thoughts of the demon that you betrayed. You realize that he's probably dead by now, those men didn't seem like they were going to be very kind to Jeongguk.
A big part of you is still in shock of what you did. You sacrificed someone else's life. For what? Money? No, it's more than that. The money... it's so much that you were able to repay the debt the day after, and it's more than enough to feed your siblings and keep a roof over their heads for years. The Mins promised they'd take them in, but the couple is old, you hate to think about it, but they most likely don't have many years left. And they're nowhere near financially independent.
Maybe it's for the best that you're about to leave this world, how would you be able to live with yourself? You wouldn't.
It happens when you're cooking dinner for you and Dahyun. You can hear her humming a song from her room as she sits on the floor and draws with her crayons. The pasta has just been added to the boiling water when you feel it.
It's in the air a fraction of a second before you're grabbed. Enough time for you to realize what's going to happen. You're not dying—not yet, there are still three days left on the countdown—but he's here.
You only manage to turn your head from the stove before a hand grabs you harshly by your neck and drags you to the closest wall, where you're pushed so hard against it, it feels like your skull is going to crack under the pressure. The demon is furious, restricting the airflow into your lungs, and stepping so close to you, your noses are almost touching.
His eyes are red, but unlike the passionate, intimidating, but still warm red, there's a ruthless fire burning. The eyes aren't the only thing that's red, Jeongguk's covered in it, and you realize right away what it is. Blood. It colors his cheeks, his hands, his clothes. He's killed his captors, and now he's come for revenge.
"Good to see you again, Y/n," he seethes, but you can see that he's so angry he's having a hard time even keeping up the cocky facade. "Oh, what's that? Were you hoping I'd be dead by now?"
He knows you can't respond. It's impossible with the way his hand is crushing your throat. Your hands are on his arm by pure instinct, trying to make him release you. All you want is the chance to explain yourself, to tell him how you feel about him, but you also know it wouldn't matter. You did what you did, and there are no excuses that lessen the impact. You betrayed him.
He said that the contract is unbreakable, and part of the deal is that he can't kill you before the fourteenth. If that's something he's physically unable to accomplish, or if he's just not supposed to, you're not sure. Your heart is still beating ten thousand beats per minute at the thought of him ripping you apart, just a room over from your five-year-old sister. At least it seems like he's aware of Dahyun's proximity, and deliberately keeps his voice down.
"You know, I was so busy looking for ways to save you," he continues. His voice is just as angry, but his hand eases up a tiny bit on your throat, allowing you to cough and try to catch your breath. "And you sold me for money?!"
"Jeongguk let me go," you order weakly, your voice so quiet it's a miracle he hears you. And he lets you go. Because he has to. Your knees feel wobbly, but keep you standing as you hold your throat. Tears that you didn't even notice before are streaking your cheeks, but it does nothing to sway the murderous demon.
"You were lucky this time. In three days, from the second after midnight, you're free game. Nothing you say or do will affect me, and I. Can't. Wait."
Before you have the chance to utter another command, he dissolves into smoke. You're not looking forward to Sunday.
Saturday has to be the weirdest day of your entire life. It's also the last one. Judging by the very angry and revenge-seeking demon, you doubt you'll live long after the stroke of midnight and turn from Saturday to Sunday.
Dahyun sings all the way to the playground, and you're certain she keeps singing while playing with her friends—still within your sight but out of earshot. You try to not think too much; this is supposed to be a happy day.
The letters, containing all of your emotions and hopeful thoughts of your siblings' future, are laying finished inside a drawer in your room. There's really nothing more for you to say than what's already there in your nicest handwriting.
What's not in there is a true explanation of what really happened, only a heartfelt lie about how you wrote the letters in case something unpredictable were to occur. Dahyun's still so little that you doubt she'll remember her short meeting with a demon, and if she does, and finds the fixed, black feather to put two and two together, maybe they'll realize.
After some home-made sandwiches and an hour of playing, you head home, Dahyun holding your hand and swinging it dramatically the whole walk. You don't know what's gonna happen to you when you die. The demon said he'd collect your soul, but you never asked for a clarification.
Ever since you were little, you imagined death as an irreversible sleep, one without dreams, just neverending darkness. Or nothing at all. If your mind remains intact in one way or another, one thing is for sure. You'll miss Dahyun and Taehyung more than anything.
Pizza is ordered to the hospital, and three movies are watched back-to-back on your laptop that you've brought. Taehyung is a little tired but otherwise in a good mood, and it makes all the difference in the world to have this day be so easy with him and Dahyun. You can't imagine what they're going to feel tomorrow, or whenever your body is found.
Taehyung temporarily offers you the hospital bed as he joins Dahyun on the floor to color in her coloring book, and you manage to take a thirty-minute nap. You've had such a hard time sleeping, all you dream about is the demon. Brown-eyed and heartbroken or red-eyed and vengeful, it doesn't matter, you still wake up in a cold sweat.
When the day starts to fade, you wish Taehyung a good night with a lingering kiss to his forehead and leave with Dahyun's hand in yours. It's late, and the five-year-old falls asleep in the car on the way home. You don't wake her, just carry her peaceful body and her little bag to the Mins', who have agreed to let her sleep over since you have to drive all night to a distant relative who's ended up at another hospital.
It's a lie, of course. You just go back home for a few hours, keeping all the lights off as to not expose yourself, before you drive off right before midnight. It took a while for you to decide what to do, but since you're positive Jeongguk is gonna come for you as soon as possible, you don't want to be home and dirty the apartment.
Why the crossroad? You don't actually know. Few things are open at this time, and do you really want to be around people? Perhaps it's a way for you to let Jeongguk know that you're sorry and take all the responsibility for what you did. You're not going to hide among other unsuspecting humans to avoid him and let the heart attack take you. No, you're serving yourself up for him to get his revenge.
Except that's not what you do at all. Hours after midnight, and the demon is nowhere to be seen. By now, you've envisioned your brutal death a thousand times in your head, and you're a trembling mess. It's come gradually, freaking you out until you can't even breathe properly, and in a panic, you drive towards the city.
You end up at the central train station where people are rushing past you no matter the time of day. He can sense where you are, but not exactly, so you hope you can hide out here. Perhaps the presence of the unknowing travelers will prevent him from dismembering you in public as well.
Jeongguk's never felt bad for humans, never sympathized, or cared for them. Until he met you. The first time you summoned him, you also surprised him. Humans run on greed. Always have, always will. Money, power, love... it's all they want, and they're prepared to sacrifice their lives for it.
But you. You summoned him in the middle of the night, out at that ominous crossroad he'd been assigned, to save your brother's life. To pay Jeongguk yours for your brother's. At first, that was the reason for his curiosity. What human would sacrifice their short life for another?
Ever since the second time you summoned him, he started following you around, getting to know you. Except for a few occasions where he stepped out to secretly help you with something, he remained watching you from the shadows where you couldn't see him.
And he felt bad. Horrible. You carried such a heavy sadness with you, everywhere you went, it weighed you down. All of his existence, he never knew humans could feel such strong emotions. They'd always been dirt under his feet, and along with a few messed up missions and his inability to tell ethically right from wrong—often concerning humans—those feelings were what caused him to get cast out.
Falling for a human was never a plan of Jeongguk's, but that's undeniably what happened. He wanted to be loved by you the way he was starting to love you, that's why he gave you his name. That 'big love' you spoke of... he felt it. But something was restraining him, and the feeling that stemmed from his heart and grew all the way through his limbs when he finally revealed his name, and you repeated it back so softly... he was free.
Only to have his heart absolutely shattered the very next day.
Imagine the shame when Jeongguk, a fallen angel and made demon, had to pray for help? The hunters and their knowledge of his name prevented him from doing anything to them. He thinks they planned to keep him in order to grant themselves wishes, but they didn't even get to try since an angel called Jimin showed up and freed him. It's incredible how scared humans can be when their ability to speak is taken from them.
Jeongguk had spent around two days locked up in a cellar with direct orders to stay there and not attempt an escape. It gave him a lot of time to boil his blood and plan out his revenge. He knew he wouldn't be able to hurt you before the fourteenth, but when the hunters' blood was everywhere but inside their veins, he couldn't stop himself from paying you a visit.
The fear in your eyes felt immensely satisfying. Until he left, and it wouldn't leave his thoughts.
Like Jeongguk told you, he'd spent the last weeks either watching you from the shadows, with you, or trying to find a solution. He didn't want to watch you die, nonetheless end your life, himself. So to see you dreaming of him and wake up terrified, only to still drive out to the crossroad and offer yourself up to him... It devastated him, and he couldn't stay.
But he didn't expect to return a few hours later to see the crossroad emptier than ever before. Where had you gone? Fuck, his plan would only work if you were still alive when he got to you.
Jeongguk is an exceptionally strong and powerful demon, but his senses are less potent than when he was a purebred angel. He could sense your presence as if he could smell it, but like smell, it's often hard to pinpoint the exact source. Especially in a huge building like the central station.
He searches for you everywhere, his senses telling him 'there! no, there!' only to end up fruitless. Time is starting to run out, and he begins to panic. What time was it, the time you'd chosen? Five-forty? Five-fifty? Somewhere in between?
It's easier, but more attention-grabbing, to appear as a human, and people aren't ashamed to stare as Jeongguk rushes through the crowds that are waiting for the afternoon trains. His head whips back and forth to search every face that passes him by, but you're nowhere to be seen.
The stress is taking over him, the thought that he might not find you in time is eating him alive. Please, he begs. The colossal golden clock that's mounted above the screens displaying trains and their tracks tells him that it's five forty-four already. He wills himself to close his eyes and just... feel.
It's so loud; announcements are sounding, people are talking, suitcases are being rolled, and it's too loud.
Deep breath. In and out. He feels something pull him. A little to his left. He opens his eyes and almost cries out in frustration; he just searched there.
Then he sees it; a small sign. Behind the little built-in store selling magazines and sandwiches are bathrooms. He dashes over there, ignoring the loud complaints of the two humans he accidentally elbows on his way.
When the door swings open, it reveals numerous things. There are multiple closed doors on one side. Toilets. A row of pristine sinks underneath a large mirror on the other. And you, lying lifeless on the floor in between.
Jeongguk hasn't cried in centuries, but now he does. The tears are blurring his vision as he rushes over and bends down. There's no pulse, and he was too late.
You feel... odd. Like you're incredibly heavy... but not even tied to your own body... all at the same time. You don't like it, it... hurts. There's an ache that reaches every little nerve in your body, but you're convinced the pain stems from your mind. So weird.
You try to open your eyes, and at first, your eyelids aren't cooperating, but soon enough, they do, and it's to darkness. Well, walking towards the light was definitely not the case. Unless that really only is for heaven, and you've managed to get yourself thrown into hell.
As your mind starts filling your body again, you begin to feel it. You're laying on something, something warm and slightly moving. In fact, you have your cheek pressed against it. Is it... skin? Yeah, it is.
A groan slips through your lips as you lift your head. Even though you nudge your head into something black that quickly moves away—and realizing what it is—you don't quite get it just yet.
It's only when you tilt your head up and see his face that you realize that you're lying on top of the demon. Jeongguk. He's lying on a bed, your bed, and you're lying on him. He doesn't scare you anymore, after all, you're dead, what can he do?
His dark brown eyes are watching you closely, but you can't read his emotions. He's probably disappointed that you succeeded in hiding from him. You couldn't help it, you were terrified, and in the end, the heart attack hurt, but not nearly as much as death by his hands would have.
When the thick layer of paralyzing fear has been removed, all there is left is guilt. It really would end like this for you, wouldn't it? Living your whole life as a spotless citizen, caring for everyone around you to the best of your ability, and during the last week of your life, you trade someone's life for money. Of course, this is your punishment.
"Am I... in hell?"
Jeongguk tilts his head, and it reminds you of the first time you summoned him, when he did the same after you told him that the life you would be sacrificing was your own.
"'Cause I'm here?"
You nod at his question, and he smiles. This is a new smile for you, you've never seen it. It's sad. But it's true? You’re with him, have to look him in the eye and face what you did. That's your personal hell.
Your mouth opens in shock. Those words were not formed by your own mouth, no, they came from him.
"But... I'm sorry," you say.
"For giving me up for money? It's okay," he smiles, and this time, it's a little more genuine. You can only stare at him and try to form words and sentences that convey your shock and confusion.
"But how? Why? You were so angry? And rightfully so? I'm the worst person that's ever lived, doing that to you..."
"I—I don't know, I just... am not angry anymore. You've had a lot of hard choices to make, and of course, your family comes first. As someone who has seen exponentially worse things and done even worse, believe me, you're alright. I'm sorry for scaring you, it was low of me."
At the mention of your family, you look down at where your hands are on his naked chest. Why doesn't he have a shirt on? You gulp.
"Do you... uh, do you know... how they are?"
You nod and chew on your lip. Why do you still feel so many emotions?
"Uh, they're good. Taehyung's at the hospital and Dahyun's still at the neighbors'."
You sigh worriedly, "so they don't know yet?"
You really thought dying in a public bathroom would grant them the news quickly. Well, you didn't know how much time passed before you woke up here, nor if time works the same way, wherever you are. The clock that hangs above the door in your bedroom shows seven pm.
"Know about what?"
Jeongguk receives a confused look, you don't want to call him dumb, but is he dumb?
"That I'm dead?"
"Oh. You're not dead, though," he states and has the audacity to smile like it's the greatest news ever. But your brain, still a little foggy, makes the connection quickly, and your lip starts to tremble.
The fact that you're still breathing can only mean one thing, and the realization makes you fill with panic. Somehow, he found a way to break the contract. "Why? How could you? You promised!"
In an instant, you're sitting up on his lap and starting to lean forward.
"Please, re-make the deal. Please. My life for you to heal Taehyung, okay? Effective immediately."
You press your lips to his in an attempt to make a new deal. You're scared it's too late, that the hour without whatever magic that kept your brother alive for the last three weeks has killed him. Jeongguk is sweet for wanting to save your life, but you made the deal for a reason.
It takes a second for him to kiss you back, and when he does, it's shortlived. The demon breaks away softly.
"There’s no need," he mumbles against the side of your mouth. "The deal was successful, he's cured because for a while, you were dead. I just found a way to bring you back."
His gentle words, expressed with a small smile, make you sit back slightly. A quiet moment goes by wherein tears start to fall for you. You hug him, pressing your cheek against his as you cry out all the stress, anxiety, and sadness that's kept you captive for such a long time.
Jeongguk wraps his arms around you and strokes your back soothingly.
"How?" The question is so quiet, you doubt he hears it.
"Made a deal with someone who'd be happier dead."
You lean back to look at his face. He looks so carefree, smiling a comforting smile that conveys happiness even through his eyes. His dark, warm eyes.
"What?" It's a reasonable question, you think. You're happy to be alive, but at the cost of someone else's life? "Who?"
"It's enough to know that you wouldn't want them walking the streets anyway."
"But they have to agree? Right?"
"But... why would you do that? Go all the way for someone like me?"
Jeongguk uses his thumb to dry your tears from your cheeks before lovingly brushing your hair behind your ear. As if he’s nervous to actually say it out loud, he peers at you carefully.
"Same reason I gave you my name; I love you."
It takes you a moment to gather all your thoughts, and while you do, your lip is between your teeth and eyes gazing over the demon's face, he watches you too.
"So... Taehyung is cured?"
"And I'm alive?"
"And you... love me?"
Never in a million years did you think that this was even a possible outcome. You made a deal with a demon, a deal that would give your life to Taehyung and kill you. The demon turned out to be sweet and kind and funny, and he managed to capture your heart, but you didn’t think too much of it since being with him would never be possible. Then you went and sold said demon for money, and he ended up threatening you. But now... You and Taehyung are alive, the demon seems to have forgiven you way too easily, is even in love with you, and you have enough money to live a decent life for a while, hopefully with Jeongguk by your side.
You look forward to going home and picking up Dahyun so that you can visit Taehyung together. Soon enough, the doctors will notice that his cancer has been magically eradicated, and he will get to come home. You can't wait to introduce Jeongguk to them for real. If he wants to, that is. But you have a feeling he’ll do.
Miracles really happen, huh?
"Can I make another deal, then?"
Jeongguk raises his eyebrow questioningly. What could you possibly want now? He knows he'd never let you make another, it doesn't matter that you'd still live for a decade before your life would be at risk. You smile smugly, letting all the emotions you tried to push away finally corrupt your heart. Having accepted long ago that happiness just wasn’t for you, pure ecstasy bursts within you. You can be happy. Jeongguk observes you as you lean in.
"Your love for mine?"
"I just told you that I love you," he chuckles. "Besides, that's not how the deals work."
"It's how this one works. Don't question it. So, deal?"
Jeongguk pulls you closer and kisses you. It's warm, comforting, and passionate. You're so, so grateful for this demon, this angel in disguise. Your demon.
It's only for a short moment when he breaks away. You both know it needs to be sealed with another kiss.
author’s note: this was a fic for the bts ghostie writers net bingo and for ‘include a plot twist’ so i hope the plot was twisted lmao
permanent tag list (link in faq and make sure you’re taggable): @teawithbucky @wishing-on-airplanes @just-another-fic-recs-blog @sleepysavya @krystle1990 @radrouda @beingbeings @protectorofbourbon @taevkimchi @lurkerarmy @purpleheartsrus @laabellaavitaa21 @plsky @rubinora @gothkth @kpopfictrash @jjkoops @neireav @jungkoo1aid @bangulin @exolarmyworld @kaomystique @blessgguk @horanghae18 @jjklove @satansassbutt @http-je0n
wild tweets |
pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader
summary: as newlyweds, you and harry read thirsty comments for buzzfeed.
warning: it's thirsty tweets, so below there is adult humor 😳
"It's a bright, sunny morning in Los Angeles, and there's nothing I want more than to be on BuzzFeed and read wild tweets alongside my husband."
"Thirsty tweets, babe." Harry corrected, laughing out loud with the producers behind the cameras.
"Thirsty Tweets." You said quickly, putting your hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. "I'm terrible at that, I'm sorry. Can we start over?"
"Let's take a break for one to two minutes. You've given us a great introduction, Y/N."
You shook your head, smiling shyly before turning to Harry, who was already watching you with that easy smile at the corner of his lips. You liked how his hand remained firmly on yours, making those circular movements with the thumb that always served as a natural medice for your anxiety.
"You look so fucking beautiful."
The pleated dress with flounce sleeves fit you like a glove. You had made peace with the various shades of white since the wedding and knew that Harry liked to see you in that color too.
"Thank you, you're not too bad either, Styles."
You intimately suspected that Harry would always seem far beyond that "not bad" that came out as a euphemism from your mouth. He wore nothing but a pair of bell-bottom pants in a strong shade of blue and a soft vest printed with fluffy little sheep on a striped American collared shirt - in your opinion, no one could look better in farm animal clothing than Harry Styles and Princess Diana with her red "Black Sheep" sweater in the 1980s. In contrast, you knew your husband well enough to know that he was arrogant and knew exactly how hot he looked - you also made your thoughts clear enough when you kept him backstage beyond ten minutes in a rather heated kissing session.
"Are you anxious?" you asked curiously, remaining with downcast eyes fixed on the strokes that remained assiduous on your warm skin. "To read about how the whole internet dreams of fucking my wife?! Of course." Harry joked, leaning over to leave a small one on your cheek. "We agree on that, don't we? Although I'm a little nervous, I'm really interested to know all the crazy things they say about you. Everyone knows you're mine at the end of the day, that's enough."
At the end of the break, you and Harry made a silent agreement that you should be the first to pick up one of the scattered papers in the red pot. There were quite a significant amount of tweets, and as much as you were used to reading rather sordid things about your husband on the Internet, the excitement was there as if you were wading into uncharted territory.
"I would be a good girl all year round if Santa guaranteed me a threesome with Harry and Y/N Styles on Christmas Eve." You laughed, Harry staring at the camera with an expression close to the meme of the surprised Pikachu. "You guys are incredibly nasty, I love it."
"If that was the first one, I'm really worried about the next ones." Harry commented with a little corner smile, picking the next tweet out of the bucket. "I have an entire folder on Pinterest dedicated to Harry Styles' hands, and let me tell you why: those hands are art, and art needs to be recognized."
"What- Guys, you promised you wouldn't post my anonymous tweets here." You quipped with false reproach, laughing at your own stupid joke while everyone else in the studio did the same. "But I can't blame her, honestly." Shaking your shoulders, you opened another piece of paper. "Harry Styles finally confessed that he wrote Watermelon Sugar for Y/N!!!! Are you guys imagining the same thing as me?!!!!!! 🥵🍆💦"
"Exhausted emoji, eggplant emoji, and water emoji?" Harry frowned, staring at the tweet you held up. "I imagine you're in need of a vacation somewhere refreshing and you're craving a fruit that everyone eats like it's really a vegetable."
"That reminded me of that story-" You laughed, hiding your face on the table as Harry continued to offer a poker face to the camera, struggling not to keep up with you laughter. "I'm sorry, lovie, I have to share this with the rest of the world." You stated, wiping a few tears from the corner of your eyes. "Harry always wears those fancy suits to concerts, right?! Right! Turns out he looks really hot in some, like his ass molds perfectly into those tight pants and everything. I was home that night because I wasn't feeling well enough to face the big crowds, but I was still following everything on twitter. It was a concert in London, not so far from where we lived at the time, so it was obvious that he would come home after it was over. I follow some portals that do really fast updates of pictures, videos, etc; everything that happened at Harry's concert was on my timeline in a matter of seconds. When one of these profiles uploaded a picture of him with his back to the camera in a heavily accentuated black and white suit, I quickly sent him the image along with a peach emoji and then wrote "looks good tonight". He didn't reply to me until a few hours later, of course, but I obviously didn't expect a "ready for a Fifth Avenue peach salad for dinner?" and numerous cutlery emojis."
Harry rolled his eyes comically, indulging in laughter as did everyone else who occupied the backstage area.
"I'm against the eroticization of emojis." He said between uncompensated breaths, shaking his head negatively. "Let's go to the next ones, please, I'm already feeling exposed enough here."
"I like your old-fashioned spirit, baby." You assured him with a smile, laying on the sturdy shoulder hidden under the fluffy fabric.
Harry chuckled low, leaving a little kiss on the top of your head before selecting the next paper. The fans would die when that video aired, everyone was sure. You two easily forgot the cameras when you were side by side, and the public display of affection had never been a problem.
"My life mission is to look at someone the way Harry looks at Y/N and be reciprocated the way Y/N looks at Harry, then I could die happy." Harry read. "That was very good and healthy, thank you!" He smiled. "But don't settle for death in that case, please. Just make sure to keep that person around forever."
"Awn, we got so sweet now." You made a pout. "Thank you for sending us something so cute! I really hope you find the right person soon." Sending a kiss to the camera, you moved on to the next tweet. "I wouldn't want to get a golden ticket to visit Willy Wonka's factory, I would like to get a golden ticket to actively participate in Y/N and Harry Styles' Honeymoon.
"That was creative, so I will disregard the fact that you removed my last name from my wife's name." Harry joked.
"I will always be an Y/L/N." You flashed the tongue. "We had a great Honeymoon, but I know you guys already know all about it because there are pictures all over the internet of outings that I don't even remember existed."
"Even though we chose a rather reserved city, many paparazzi still managed to photograph some of our nights there." Harry agreed. "There was one particular day when we opted to have dinner at a restaurant near the beach. Y/N had found it even before the trip, it was pretty laid back and we could spend the evening at karaoke. I don't really remember what happened, but we woke up the next day with a terrible hangover, still wearing the clothes from the dinner and with several headlines saying that I was cheating on my wife in the middle of our Honeymoon with a blue-haired italian girl."
"That wig made me sexy, man." You blinked, laughing as you remembered the situation. "It's a shame the paparazzi only got low quality images, but I swear I looked really amazing that night. Italy, I miss you."
"We're coming to the end and I haven't had to ask production for a glass of water yet, thank you to whoever selected these tweets." Harry raised his thumb to the camera, smiling before turning his gaze back to the small paper he had chosen. "Y/N could literally punch me in the face and I would just bow down and thank them for it." He laughed. "She has heavy hands, so I would rethink that choice."
"It takes strong hands to be a superheroine." You blinked gracefully, referring to your works as a Marvel actress. "I move around a lot during the night, so I'll take this lovely opportunity to say that twitter can dismiss all the malicious theories about Harry always show up with a new bruise all over his body."
"Please stop making indecent assumptions while Y/N is aggressive with me at night only unconsciously, her father has access to social media."
You laughed, clearing your throat before reading the next obscenity aloud.
"I would sell all my possessions to have Y/N sitting on my lap for ten seconds."
"Oh my God." Harry laughed out loud, throwing his head back. "I should have said that in our wedding vows."
You shook your head, laughing low as you set the tweet aside.
"That was pretty funny and cheeky, I approve."
"Okay, looks like we finally got to the last one." Harry announced, waving the paper in the air dramatically before opening it. "Harry could literally crush me with those boots while fuc- I need that glass of water." He said dumbfounded, hiding his face between his hands after throwing the tweet over his shoulder. You laughed out loud next to the organizers, and meanwhile Harry leaned his head on your bust, staring at you still with wide eyes. "Please promise that we will be careful with our future children on the internet."
hellu, can I request how would Delinquents, teachers, and bullies react to female reader pepper-sprayed the twins for self-defense when they try to beat up reader?
Hello, it's been a while, I'm sorry it took so long- I've been dealing with a lot of school assignments and I can't lie that I have frequent breakdowns over this-
I'll try and upload the requests that I already have and see if I should open up for requests again, or leave it be closed until the waves of work I need to do gets less overwhelming.
I hope y'all are doing great, stay safe everyone.
I'll make this a very short scenario boo.
TW: this is basically a civil war at this point- // for each pair, I'll add a different context (since technically the delinquents aren't from the same institution as the bullies) // female reader // bullying // self defense // anxiety // bullying (verbal and physical) // mentions of stalker behavior and brief mentions of distrust and paranoia
Triple Spice combo [Yandere!Teachers / Yandere!Delinquents / Yandere!Bullies x F!Reader - Scenario]:
🎇Let me set the stage for a quick sec!🎇
So I'll explain what will happen- This is basically a post with three different timelines, each one based on each character type you're more interested in (example: you want some sour delinquents? You can follow the delinquent timeline and see how they react). Each follows almost similar circumstances, but still a bit differently to be able to fit for each individual timeline.
Come with me boo cause this one is long!
🎆: 🍒Bully's Timeline🍭
You have been the target of bullying for some weeks now, ever since you crossed some rich kids while going to your college. Unfortunately for you, they seem to be heading to the same location as you, apparently they also studied there- Although it should have been quite obvious. You're not the type to confront people physically, and you don't really feel like capable of fighting people of on your own, but because with their constant presence in your life you started to feel the need to get yourself prepared for what was going to come- Especially since you didn't feel like you could count on anyone.
You bought pepper spray in hopes of being able to stop your tormentors from continuing with their sick game.
That's when the incident happened, you were minding your own business when they came looking for trouble. You took the opportunity to finally put a stop on this by spraying their eyes with it.
→ Alexandra Coldwell:
It was so fast and so painful that she couldn't even understand what just happened- Like- How dare you?! How fucking dare you?!! You think this is funny? This wasn't supposed to happen at all!
"- AAAAH!- what?- OH MY GOD-" Alexandra wasn't able to even finish her sentence, the pain was too much for her to handle. As she dropped to the ground trying to clean her eyes out, she couldn't help but feel confused as to what had even happened.
How could you do something so cruel to her?? Yes, she followed you, bullied you, made rumours about you, pulled your hair a couple of times and maybe she did throw insults towards you- But she didn't try to blind you!!
The worst part isn't even the humiliation she is going through, it's the fact you thought you would be able to pull a stunt like this and go away without any scars- She is so, absolutely livid by your stupidity.
Alexandra knows you must be liking this- And you know what? Enjoy your last free moments cause she will make sure you'll pay for it. She'll make sure to have a proper revenge under her sleeve, a proper punishment for harming someone like her in public.
Darling, darling, I hope you start looking behind your back from now on, never know what could happen when the person who is obsessed with you is just as insanely pissed off as they're madly in love with you.
→ Adrien Coldwell:
It was so fast and so painful that he couldn't even understand what just happened- Like- How dare you?! How fucking dare you?!! You think this is funny? This wasn't supposed to happen at all!
"- What- Oh my God I'm DYING!-" Adrien would be a lot more dramatic about it, even if he can articulate in great detail how much it hurts. In his panicked state, he started trying to wipe the substance with his sleeves- Which only helped to spread it more.
How fucking dare you not only hurt his precious eyes but also humiliate him on public like this?! What has gotten into you?? Yeah- I guess he did say hurtful stuff, followed you around to torment you, did throw stuff at you- But ya know- He didn't try to take your eyeballs out!?? Now that he thinks about it, he probably should have.
Adrien has a very weird view on your "relationship"- He thinks you're above him and so he must push you down, he loves you but being gentle with you will leave you to pull this kind of shit.
You're probably laughing to yourself now, the man is temporarily blind and you are laughing at him, you're somehow worse than he thought.
Still, he'll make you pay for it, don't worry about it dearest- You're fucked regardless. You tried to stand against him and now sadly he'll have to put you in your place again. Don't worry, it won't be so early- He still needs to prepare his plan.
Darling, darling, I hope you start looking behind your back from now on, never know what could happen when the person who is obsessed with you is just as insanely pissed off as they're madly in love with you.
🎆: 🍎Teacher's Timeline📕
You have been the target of bullying for some weeks now, ever since you crossed some rich kids while going to your college. Unfortunately for you, they seem to be heading to the same location as you, apparently they also studied there- Although it should have been quite obvious. You're not the type to get physical when it comes to defending yourself, but you felt that you still needed to do something about it- You talked with the only person you could trust in this moment, since they were your mentor and you needed some guidance from someone that could potentially help you solve this out.
Their idea was to be able to personally see the harassment happening so they could have visual proof of who is doing what to you, hopefully being able to expel the ones causing you harm.
They personally gave you pepper spray in hopes that if they aren't near you to help you, you can at least defend yourself in some way.
That's when the incident happened, you were minding your own business when they came looking for trouble. You took the opportunity to finally put a stop on this by spraying their eyes with it.
→ Matthew Robinson:
Although you thought to be in a situation where no one would be able to help you- Causing you to use your only item of self-defense- That couldn't have been further from the truth, as Matthew has made sure to pay close attention to you after you came by and ask for his guidance. It was a call for help and he would have been a horrible mentor to not make sure you'll follow his instructions, and it seemed like you did perfectly fine.
He got to be present to not only see the ones causing you harm, but also to see how well you're able to take care of yourself. He was going to intervene as soon as he saw them come closer, but you managed to stop them all by yourself- Honestly he is very proud of you for being able to stand your ground.
Since Matthew was able to see them starting the aggression just like many other witness surrounding the scene, he felt like he had an argument strong enough to be able to properly punish your bullies- Of course he is aware that the Coldwells have a reputation for getting staff members fired for trying to reprimanding them, but honestly he has been inside this place long enough already.
Getting fired isn't his problem, his problem is not being able to give them what they deserve for frightening you, and even worse than that: He needed to make sure you would stay safe in and out of college- You came to him saying they were following you outside of your classes, so of course he'll be worried for your safety.
After expelling the Coldwells, Matthew will just need to find a way of keeping you safe and under his surveillance, you may need more guidance after all, and it would be extremely worrying to not have you by his side. He just needs to plan out a better schedule for you two, one where he can be more present in your life after you're done with your classes.
I wonder what plan comes to his mind.
→ Madeline Allen:
Although you thought to be in a situation where no one would be able to help you- Causing you to use your only item of self-defense- That couldn't have been further from the truth, as Madeline has made sure to pay close attention to you after you came by and ask for her guidance. Madeline has been following you while you walked through the school's halls as she recorded every interaction you had with any of the other students. After you called her for help she entered full protection mode, she was set on getting your tormentors expelled.
However, Madeline hasn't been inside the institution to be able to earn the trust of the other teachers, or even the principal themselves- She needed some evidence and better witness testimony than those from students who were terrified of getting in trouble with the bullies around this place. You could say she had a guess as to who could be causing you trouble but she wouldn't be allowed to take action unless she could prove their identity and involvement in bullying you.
She gave you the pepper spray hoping you would feel less worried, to feel calmer in knowing you had not only something that you could use against them but also to symbolize how she would be there for you if you needed. Seeing you using it for the first time as you spray in the eyes of the culprits made her realize that she was in fact correct. Of course it's them, right?
If there is something wrong happening in Amaryllis, you can almost always pin it for being the Coldwell's fault. Bullying it's probably the least surprising thing this little demons have been accused of- Still, their rein over this institution and your worried little mind ends today, she doesn't care if she lost her job or if they try ruining her life by blackmailing her and such-
They can try but she is pretty sure they won't have any luck finding her, what can I say, she is good at burning evidence. What worries her though it's what will happen to you if they ever try to take their frustrations out on you again. She can't allow that to happen, you'll end up getting hurt and she'll feel awful if it was because of her interference in the case.
You need her help after all, right? You did come to her asking for guidance, and clearly you know nothing about physical self-defense- You clearly need someone to take care of you dearest. She needs to plan this out carefully, not only so the twins aren't allowed in school's grounds but to hopefully be able to guide you even if she is not your teacher anymore. But how could she have you near her everyday after classes?
I wonder what plan comes to her mind.
🎆: 🍋Delinquent's Timeline🐍
You have been the target of bullying for some weeks now, ever since you crossed some rich kids while going to your college. Fortunately for you, they didn't seem to go the same college as you did- Yet what you should have known was that nothing in life could have been so simple, you would still see them again over and over again after that incident. You started to feel anxious knowing that they were probably stalking you to know exactly when and where to find you, and since you already have to deal with going to a horrible institution and fearing for your own safety everyday.
You bought pepper spray so you could defend yourself not only from your stalkers but also from any possible classmate that could end up trying something weird with you.
That's when the incident happened, you were minding your own business when they came looking for trouble. You took the opportunity to finally put a stop on this by spraying their eyes with it.
→ Jackson Macnee:
He doubts you noticed that he was there when that happened, he doubts that you even care if he is staring at you at all- He always thought you were probably too scared of him to even tell him to stop, most people aren't scared of his appearance but are at least aware of his title, so they at least respect the path he walks. He is already used to this.
But let me tell you, to see the Coldwells come so near his territory seemed pretty interesting at first- Until he discovered why they were dumb enough to come here. He didn't know you were being bullied, let alone by these brats- He did notice you had changed your behavior recently, although he didn't pay any attention to it because he thought you were just getting accustomed with the way things work around Saint's Bernard hellhole of a place.
He was hoping that maybe you were just having issues with settling in- It is a rough place after all, and although he wishes deep down to be able to help you feel stronger he still feels like he shouldn't make you do something you don't want to. If you wished to talk to him, you should just go straight to him (even if he is aware of how terrifying that could be).
However, Jack was so far from the truth. His assumptions were confirmed fake after he saw the twins Coldwell treat you like he treated him- It was unbearable to watch, it was like he was seeing his past collide with his present self, you were reminding him of all the things he hated about himself, while also bringing his blood to boil in a desperate need to help you out. Yet he didn't need to do anything about it, you managed to defend yourself on your own.
It wasn't as rewarding to watch as he wanted it to be, but you sure did crack their ego pretty badly- He shouldn't have doubted you, after all he has been stalking you for so long, he should have known what you were capable of doing. Still, he doesn't trust the Coldwells enough to just let them run away like that, they would probably come back soon.
In the meantime, this should be a good excuse to get to talk with you, right? You clearly need some actual training, some flimsy pepper spray bottle isn't going to stop them from coming back. I hope you're ready to be trained by a lovesick delinquent, he won't be soft until he knows you can stand on your own.
→ Jannette Sartorius
She doubts you noticed that she was there when that happened, she doubts that you even care if she is staring at you at all- She always thought you were probably too scared of her to even tell her to stop, most people are scared of her. She is trying to get used to it.
Janette thinks she has every reason to observe you from afar, you're beautiful and you seem too precious to be in a place as horrible as this one, it must suck a lot for you to be somewhere like this-Seeing people like her.
She considered calling you to join her gang, but she is sure that you'll probably deny the offer- Physical confrontation was never your thing right? She can respect that.
Although you don't talk with her, or even interact with the other students at all, she did notice you were acting a bit more- Reclusive these days. Something was wrong, and sadly she would have to find out about it way too late.
Janette didn't know the twins personally, she knew they were rich and famous but- Yeah, she didn't really care about knowing anything about them, they're just some pretty faces amongst the others in the fashion industry. She does envy them a little bit, but tries to avoid anything relating to them since she feels self-conscious looking at their pictures. Now she has a new reason to hate their porcelain faces, they were stalking you.
They were stalking you and taunting you, and if you didn't do anything to stop them she would have already jumped in. They were alone, and honestly she doubts they have any idea of how to go one on one with someone- There is no way these brats have any experience in fighting, right?
Well, she didn't get to know that since they ran away after you sprayed their faces with pepper spray, clever girl.
She knows this is probably not the end of this, they did threaten to come back and hurt you for defending yourself. But you know- She doesn't plan on letting that happen, not again. Consider yourself lucky cause now you just got a new best friend who I set on protecting you.
Is there something wrong with that? Aren't you happy with being her friend? Well, you could just go to "girlfriends" if that's what you want- She wouldn't mind it at all.
Janette prefers to take care of you without you having to watch her beat someone's ass- But she could teach you a few things if you wished to, hey, spending time with someone so cool it's always nice, so of course she'll take every chance she can to spend as much time with you as possible.
Belamour (Ethan x f!MC)
Summary: Set after Book 3, Pooja finally gets Ethan to dance in the rain.
A/N: A silly something born out of my love for rains and my binge listening to 80s Bollywood classics (I have no idea what kinda mess this is tbh). Also, my first song based fic🤎
A/N 2: The song lyrics are indented (Translation in parenthesis)
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)
Word Count: around 1.5K
Category: Total fluff
Warnings: None that I noticed
Song Inspiration: Aaj Kal Yaad Kuch by Mohammed Aziz
READ ON AO3
A pair of summery blue orbs insistently stare at the world beyond the glass windows.
A world that was now being washed by the consistent droplets that came down from the adobe of clouds to meet their origin.
Their drum was usually henotic, tranquil for him.
But at the moment, it only added to his irritation and deepened the void of disappointment that had formed in his chest.
In another room of the same house, a pair of amber orbs watched the magic of nature with a child-like wonder.
The pleasant, dewy petrichor spread around her, and the mellifluous tunes of Earth's own orchestra made her forget the fast turns her life went through in the past day.
In the faint light, she picked up her hand and let the jewel, the stone that was nothing less than a promise of forever, shine like the billion stars that dot the sky at nights that are devoid of clouds.
As the iridescent lights make her eyes sparkle, a vague idea forms in her brain.
Her thoughts float to reach the person who gifted her happiness, and a smile lit up on her face.
There was a mix of challenge and love in the quest she was about to partake and she was determined to succeed.
In slow, soundless steps, she made her way out of the room and out of the house.
A blur went past and his trained eyes were quick enough to catch the motion.
Shaking his head with realization, he followed behind.
As the steps took him down, and he stood under the shade of the multi-floored skyrise, she stayed yards away from it.
Her hair was wet, her skirt twirling, her face bright and beautiful.
He felt his heart race, whispering an urge to join with hers.
He restrained himself, but the scene in front of him was so spectacular that he doubted just how long his restraint would last.
After what felt like an eternity, she turned to him, half of her face golden under the street lights, the other half bearing the monotones of black and white.
She looked like the personification of their love.
Her life the golden, and his the black and white.
He could write sonnets to describe the picture-perfect scene that played before him like a film, but all he did was stand still, unable to tear his eyes away, unable to speak the words that hadn't already been spoken, his well-thumbed thesaurus gathering dust in the labyrinths of his mind.
She looked at him with a longing, a spoken call for him to join her as the rains continued to fall and purify the earth.
All he did was shake his head in silence.
She took it as a challenge, and he already knew how it was going to end.
For a minute he got lost in her memories, reminiscences from a time, from a moment that passed too quick, yet slow enough for him to remember every moment of it.
And suddenly, the faint tunes of a song brought him back to the present.
Every word of the foreign seeming language lucid clear, setting in a cascade of emotions and bringing pictures etched in past pages of the novel of life, making him go on a trip down the memory lane.
Aajkal Yad Kuch Aur Rehta Nahi
(Nowadays I don't seem to remember anything else)
Ek Bas Aapki Yad Aane Ke Bad
(Once your memories enchant me)
Yaad Aane Se Pehle Chale Aaiye
(Please come to me before the memories reach me)
Aur Phir Jaiye Jan Jane Ke Bad
(And then leave only after my breath leaves me)
The truth of the words came with an epiphany.
Every day of knowing her had been a way of painting the monotones of his life in colours he thought didn't belong to him.
Every moment she had ever spent away from him had made him yearn for her more than ever.
And yet he was foolish enough to think that miles of distance and hundreds of hours could make him forget her.
All the distress he felt could have been so easily ended if she had been with him then.
And now, as he dreams of an aeon with her, he promises to only let her go when his breath leaves him alone.
Apni Aankhon Me Mujhko Basa Lijiye
(Allow me to settle in the world of your eyes)
Apne Dil Me Mera Ghar Bana Dijiye
(Make a home for me in your heart)
Kya Karu Dil Kahi Aur Lagta Nahi
Pyar Me Aapse Dil Lagane Ke Bad
(What's the fault of mine if I can't concentrate on anything other than you, since our hearts connected by the string of love)
As the minutes pass by, melting into each other to form an hour, he loses all tracks of time.
And amidst the sweven he was living in right now, at a moment he could not pinpoint, she had taken his hand into hers and now he stood, lost in the amber of her eyes, forgetting all about the shower that now fell upon him.
As she continued to mutter the tunes in a harmony that went on in rhythm with the rain, he wished he could live in the world of her orbs.
To see the world as she saw it, to live the life from her perspective.
All he wanted was home in her heart, a tiny place on the lands of her soul.
Ishq Ke Maine Kitne Fasane Sune
(I have heard many tales of epic romances)
Husb Ke Kitne Kisse Purane Sune
(And stories about beautiful people from bygone eras)
Aisa Lagta Hai Phir Is Tarah Tut Kar
Pyar Hamne Kiya Ek Zamane Ke Bad
(But I feel I have been broken and got mended by love after centuries)
In muted harmonies, the two of them twirled, forgetting the world around them.
The way their eyes held onto each other, as if holding onto their lives, reminded him of the tales of love the folklores talk about.
The romances of princesses and maidens, and of beauties who earned their fairytale.
But as her palm stroked his cheek in a feather-light motion, he concluded that all those tales faint in front of the story of theirs.
There were no royals, no cruel witches setting up spells and no poisoned apples.
There were just two people, broken by the storms life made them navigate through, fitting perfectly as if parts of a whole.
He tried to remember if he had ever experienced anything as he did now, his lip tracing her ear as his hands wrapped around her waist.
It didn't even take him a second to know the answer.
Aapka Naam Dil Se Nikalta Nahi
(Your name never leaves my heart)
Dillagi Me Koi Zor Chalta Nahi
Dillagi Me Koi Zor Chalta Nahi
(No force is strong enough to stop the meet of two hearts)
Aapko Bhul Jane Ki Koshish Bhi Ki
(I tried a hundred times to forget you)
Aur Tadpa Hun Main Bhool Jaane Ke Baad
(And suffered a suffering of pain and agony once I forgot you)
The rains accelerate and become a downpour. The mist envelops them but there was no care for the changing environment.
The distance between them ceases to exist as their hearts finally get the pleasure of beating in unison.
In the next moments, she whispers close to his ear, the last of the melody, and it's his story.
The story of how he couldn't get rid of the five-lettered name since the first time he ever came to know about it.
Of how no force in the world could stop two hearts from meeting if that's what destiny had in plan for them.
Who one loves and who loves them back determines so much in one life.
And for him, it was a chance, a risk he was scared to take, dreading the destruction it may cause.
After all when had anything ever-blossoming flowers in the city of his soul?
But this time not only did spring finally arrived with its flowery footsteps but also led to a discovery of himself, a part of him that was buried under layers of snow from the winter that reigned in his life for years.
She taps twice on his heart, indicating how he had tried to forget her, all those years ago. And how he broke himself in the process.
As she hummed the last lines, he bowed down in front of the forces that brought the two of them together.
He thanked the stars which aligned the way did to let him fall for her and agreed to hide, to let the rains fall, to let him have this night with her.
And looked in awe at the woman who brought about the sweetest catastrophe mankind has ever known.
And without uttering a word, he picks her and kisses her, saying all that was left unsaid with it.
PS: I actually have another version of the song, that I sung specifically to go with this, but Tumblr is giving me troubles to upload it. Do let me know if you would like to hear it someday.
Anyways, If you are reading this, I am very grateful for you. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day🤎
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Warning: a lot of text
Okay. I know it took me a long time to post about this, but I wanted to organize my thoughts well. I don't like to be writing with my head hot, angry, disappointed, frustrated and sad. Waiting to not have those feelings I was never going to write this. With that cleared up let's talk about "What If?"
To say I wasn't expecting Sharon to be treated badly again would be lying. I was surprised that she showed up and relatively everything was fine (until she was killed obviously). I'm not going to lie it gave me hope, but what surprised me were the writer's words saying that he killed Sharon because he likes Steggy and that he wanted to give her a more grotesque death that Sharon had "Because Steve is Peggy's."
I will admit that I moved a little further away from the UCM series and its projects after "The Falcon and The Winter Soldier" Sharon was damaged and harmed again by making her a villain, the writer threw away the work that Emily had done saying that Sharon's moral code was too strong. Not to mention, Sharon has never and never been a villain at will (when she "killed" Steve in Civil War Sharon was under Faust's control) and the power broker is another character in the comics.
Again I walked away a bit more after watching the BlackWidow movie because we never saw that funeral that Nastasha deserved, just a grave with flowers left by people. We never got to see a funeral like Tony's or Yondu's, not even in her movie did they take the time to give her that moment.
I confess I was just reading the synopsis and watching summaries of the series. I watched the Zombie episode because a friend told me "you will be pleasantly surprised and heartbroken at the same time''. So I made the decision to give "What if?" a chance.
Everything was going well, more than well because I was watching Sharon (I almost died of happiness), I see Happy's death and Sharon apologizing and I got sad, but it was going more or less well.... Until I see how Okoye kills Sam, she apologizes to Bucky for killing him and the only thing she replies is something like she's not sad about it...
WTF!!!! The chapter is set between civil war and infinity war, Sam at that point had already risked his freedom and his life for Bucky. Bucky makes that comment so out of place, cold and ungrateful after Sam helped save him.
I keep watching because I thought it couldn't get any worse HA, HA, HA I'm such a fool for thinking that.
After a while I notice Sharon in the last car of the train, and what goes through my mind is, "Why is she alone in the last car if she only has Tony's glove and not the gun?". She heard the blow and immediately already knew the worst was yet to come, it was all downhill from there.
It is Steve who kills her. At the time I think it's kind of poetic because in the line of movies he took it upon himself to kill the idealistic and innocent Sharon Carter; by abandoning her the two years of fugitives and not looking for her. I guess watching deep movies like "The Shape of Water" and expecting that from Marvel was asking a lot.
Bucky kills Steve and apologizes, but Sam doesn't give him an ounce of grief for his death and Hope blows Sharon up from the inside. It was atrocious, but it's a zombie chapter my naive mind imagined there would be crueler and darker things. There was something just as dark if not darker which was Vision feeding off innocents to Wanda.
Let's continue watching the chapter and let's count how some characters died.
Well, Hope dies sacrificing herself I think it was a dignified death, it follows the death of Okoye who sacrifices herself for her king, I thought it was a normal thing because doremilages are supposed to fight for their kingdom and their king with their life. I hated that he said it was his fault for separating them, because no character objected when he gave the order, only Peter and in a joking tone. Follow up with the death of Kurt, Vision and Bucky. Simply Bucky's death this time for that action towards Sam, it didn't hurt.
The chapter ends with them with a possible cure and heading to wakanda where zombie thanos was waiting for them.
The bitterness that the chapter left me with was immense. The cruelest death and followed by joke was Sharon's, to the point that they minimized it and placed it to finish diverting Sharon's attention by exploiting everywhere the infected Hope scene. Sam's was the most blatant because it's not subliminal, it's direct with the words of "Bucky" saying he didn't care. I put Bucky in quotes because we all know it was the screenwriter, the Bucky we know in the MCU and comics wouldn't say that.
I thought I was paranoid suspecting Sharon's death was the cruelest and least taken seriously apropos...until I hear about the interview and realize how unprofessional the screenwriter is. What hypocrisy to say he loves Sharon on twitter after what he stated in the interview. I expected Matthew Chauncey to keep his word, not like a coward that when he gets caught he backs down seeing that he screwed up and we don't support him.
What happened in the series and in that interview is an example that the bad treatment of Sharon exists. It is not something invented by the fans, it is something on the part of the directors, writers and actors. I still don't forget Hayley Atwell's comment who said that peggy seeing that kiss in Civil War that Steve gave Sharon Peggy would revive, she would shoot Steve and Sharon would get beaten up.
I think Hayley,the writers and directors forgot that Peggy was happy with Daniel Sousa as far as we knew, even though in Agents of SHIELD they put Daniel with Quake.... It doesn't make sense, but as always they didn't want to let the series die and they tried hard to keep up with the ucm no matter that it would damage the plot of the series, which was what they should focus on (I don't know if the series is canon anymore because they even uploaded it to Disney plus).
the scriptwriters had never seen the series of agent Carter nor any of Peggy's comics (she doesn't have comics, but she has appearances) because she loves her niece, the little that comes out makes it clear. I'm not going to ask you to read all the comics either, just the most recent one where Agatha tells Steve a little more about the daughters of liberty and that possibly for Peggy Steve was just her first mission, maybe he's a good friend, for her and no more from there. Fun fact, at the end I didn't see Peggy angry trying to shoot them while they were sitting in the garden with Sharon and Steve for being together. Even when Steve found out she was alive he had no indication of leaving Sharon or getting romantically excited, rather he was walking around angry at Peggy , Sam and Bucky for not telling him about the risk to Sharon's life (Especially Peggy because it was more personal with her more than Sharon for killing the villain's husband. basically Sharon was kind of a target to somehow hurt Peggy). I imagine if they read it that comic or any other they would be frothing at the mouth.
I don't want to be pessimistic, but I saw "What if ?" and I doubt they will place Sharon as a Skrull, Mystique, mind control or give her a redemption. It's going to happen what happens with UCM villains, they'll kill her off. In fact, something tells me that they will try to make her crueler than the Red Skull to justify a horrible death. In case she's mystique or a Skull they'll probably say she's dead and won't even take the time to show it on screen.
Not only "What if?" made me lose hope "The Falcon and winter Soldier" too, remember I had posted that it looked like Sharon would be the Power Broker, but I doubted they would because she was another character in the comics. Well, hearing that statement in the interview anything is possible. By the way, I thank him for screwing Steve, since in the five years of the devastation he never helped Sam's family. I exclude Natasha from this as she was taking care of the avengers; Thor was depressed and didn't even know Sam; Tony had to take care of his family; Rhodey didn't know Sam well enough to know he had a family and Clint was in mourning.
Sorry for the language and clarify that I'm not throwing hate at Hayley, nor the directors and writers just showing that they didn't behave well neither with Sharon, nor with Emily
by the way, remember that meme I posted a while back about no character should be hated because of their shipp, I still hold that thought now more than ever. I think it fits perfectly with the screenwriter's behavior.
to those who made it this far thank you for reading my ramblings
Kinktober 2021, Day 4
(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)
This is another one that probably could have been longer, and I’m not 100% sure if it fits the prompt as planned. I’m hoping it’s still likable though, all things considered!
Sometimes things don’t go quite as planned. When Reader’s plans to spend the day with Barbatos are interrupted, they try to get their way, even if it means getting in the way of work.
Blindfolds, Bondage. Creampie, Gags, Kinktober, Kinktober 2021, Oneshot, Prompt, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex
Kinktober 2021, 04: Brat Taming (Reader x Barbatos | Obey Me!)
You had gone to visit Barbatos that day expecting to spend some quality time with him, having finally arranged a day when he wasn’t swamped tending to the needs of the prince and the castle. Shortly after arriving, abuzz with excitement to finally have some alone time with him, Barbatos had received news that an impromptu celebration was being held the next evening - meaning whatever spare time he left to him was suddenly gone.
The news had made you cross to hear, knowing that Barbatos would be required in the kitchens on such short notice, though you had tried to hide your discomfort. To your credit, you thought you had done an admirable job when all a part of you really wanted to do was protest how unfair the latest arrangement was. But Barbatos was dutiful to a fault, and directly fussing over things would do little good.
Instead, you took the opposite route, and offered your help, thinking perhaps additional hands involved in the chore might lend it to be completed more swiftly. Unfortunately, you had vastly underestimated just how much work needed to be, as well as how much patience you had for it. The first couple hours of work had gone on well enough, but it seemed to be unending. You found yourself tiring of the tedious tasks, internally groaning at the work left before you still. Briefly, you wondered if the assignment was actually some curse neither of you was quite aware of, but you quickly dismissed the absurd thought.
You paused in the middle of stirring a bowl of ingredients, glancing out of the corner of your eyes to Barbatos busily plowing through each new culinary task, little phasing him. He was the picture of efficiency and focus, and the kitchen air was heavy with the various smells of seasonings and sweet flavorings, and citrus courtesy of his efforts. You watched him work as inconspicuously as possible for a moment, a new idea slowly coming to you. An idea that was far more alluring, though one admittedly much less productive than the task at hand.
Turning your attention half-heartedly to the bowl in front of you, returning to stirring, you finished it and pushed it aside. You searched for a proper excuse for the scheme you were hatching, finding it in a multitude of bottles and jars of ingredients for some of the next things on Barbatos’ long list of to-make recipes. Resuming the guise of a hard-working assistant eager to assist with the prepping and cooking, you moved to gather more ingredients and dishes, brushing purposefully close to Barbatos as you went by. You leaned forward to gather a bottle or two, reaching around him and feigning a hint of clumsiness that led to stray touches.
Lights taps and pats on his shoulders and arms played off as helping you balance. Strokes on his waist or hip, daring to creep a little lower. All manner of touches that seemed innocent enough. But you knew, or rather hoped, that it might distract Barbatos and broach his focus, and potentially lure him away from his chore. He remained just as unphased as before, though, hardly giving you a second look, save to courteously steady you or to make a polite quip to be a bit more careful.
After several unsuccessful attempts, you frowned at your lack of progress. Though you weren’t to be put off so easily and moved onto your next plan of action without lingering on the thought too long. You stood closer while you worked on your latest project, mashing an assortment of ingredients and fragrant herbs into a mortar beside Barbatos. Still grinding the contents, you subtly slipped your spare hand down, reaching more brazenly for Barbatos’ thigh. Your fingers brushed the cloth of his pants, creeping inward more slowly.
Barbatos cleared his throat pointed, his only acknowledgment of your attempt before he caught your hand by the wrist, pulling it gently away before you could properly feel him up as you had planned. You pouted again, further frustrated by his determination to ignore you. You still weren’t done yet, though. You tried the same thing, making the motion less obvious, more alike to an accidental slip. But even then, Barbatos dismissed your wandering hands, stopping only to speak for a moment, but not to address your meddling in the way you had hoped.
The look on his face was sterner than before, a hint of warning to stem your interruptions and focus. “Now isn’t the time. There’s far too much work to be done.”
You met his words and stern expression with a stare of your own, though one much more petulant. You silently huffed, fuming and pouting further, staring down into the muddled mass in the mortar. While you considered your options next, you went back to actively helping prepare batters and sauces, and icings. Barbatos moved away several times, pausing to place unbaked cakes and pastries into the large ovens or put assembled treats away to chill until the next day.
At some point, he returned to the counters with a platter of golden brown pastries assembled in an orderly pile. It was obviously one that had set for some time already, the tops of the stacks already topped with stiff peaks of colorful whipped frosting. As Barbatos turned away to resume work, a new scheme sprung into your head, prompted by the confections set out before you.
For much of the work before, Barbatos had only stopped to give you more than passing attention - or at least you had thought - to offer advice, or give you instructions. At last, though, he looked toward you, recognizing how you looked when you were truly onto some new plan. Barbatos had kept a careful amount of his attention dedicated to you, though you hadn’t yet realized.
He was good at feeling out when you had a mind to try and cause trouble or to grab his attention, whatever the situation. He had known as well that once you started, you weren’t going to give up easily, even if it meant acting rather childishly in your determination. He recognized the look on your face as you eyed the decorated pastries. When you glanced over, checking if he was paying you any mind, he knew you were about the act up again.
Sure enough, you set down your current tool, reaching your newly free hand in the direction of the pastries. The sharp, sudden mention of your name though made you flinch and halt with your arm outstretched.
“Haven’t you misbehaved enough for one evening?” Barbatos said evenly. The words had still startled you, even though you had been aware you had more of his attention than before.
Your nostrils flared, and you blew out an angry huff, recognizing the tone of Barbatos’ voice and debating your next move. Should you behave and drop it for the night? No, that wasn’t an option. You had to push your luck, challenge him. Your irritation demanded nothing less.
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to misbehave if you’d pay me more attention in the first place,” you snapped back in defiance. You turned back to the pastries from before, thrusting a finger toward the large pile of frosting on the pastries’ peaks arranged in an ornate pattern.
“I know you understand those for tomorrow,” Barbatos continued, his voice still even, but more warning, accompanied by another commanding call of your name.
“Well, maybe I don’t want to keep waiting,” you snapped, though it was quite clear it wasn’t sweet treats you were being impatient about.
You looked at Barbatos markedly, turning and dipping your finger into the frosting and scooping out a section, ruining part of the decoration. Looking back, you raised the coated finger to your lips. His gloved hand caught your wrist again, more firmly than before, and when his eyes locked with yours, his glare was piercing and cool. You suppressed a shudder but refused to break or back down.
“That’s enough,” he declared sternly.
What he did next was in stark contrast to the tone of his voice. He didn’t release your hand immediately, instead tipping your frosting coated finger toward him and sucking it into his mouth. His tongue rolled hotly over your digit, cleaning the sticky, cloyingly sweet icing from it. Your brows shot up, and another shiver threatened to creep down your spine while you swallowed hard. You had gotten the attention you had so petulantly been trying to achieve from Barbatos, but at the same time, it had shattered your resolve.
That attention was lingering, though, a taste to quiet and rattle you.
“I think it’s time you retired for the night,” Barbatos decided after pulling your finger from his mouth and letting your wrist free, foregoing any more contact with you and leaving you wanting, stirred up from that one action alone. Yet, there was something mischievous, almost dangerous in his tone, something that rang familiar. “You will wait up for me. When I am done, we will discuss this. Have I made myself clear?”
You nodded meekly, your streak of mischief shaken and relegated to the back of your mind. “Yes,” you answered quietly. Your mouth felt dry, and a tenseness grew in you, something halfway between anticipation and uncertainty.
“Excuse me?” Barbatos questioned expectantly.
“Yes, sir, perfectly clear,” you added, his words prompting you to remember your ‘manners’.
Barbatos turned back to the counters, leaving no room for further dispute. You saw yourself out of the kitchens, calming your thumping heart down as you went. You flagged down a Little D, requesting aid to return to the guest room you normally stayed in when you came to visit Barbatos or stayed in the castle for any other occasion. You gave your thanks upon reaching the room, closing the door behind you and flopping onto the bed with a frustrated sigh.
You tried to preoccupy yourself for a while thereafter, browsing apps and messages on your DDD, answering friends, and checking in on the demon brothers. It could all only keep your attention for so long, though, and eventually, you drifted off to sleep from boredom with the device at your side.
You weren’t sure how long you had slept when the soft click of the bedroom door awoke you. You glanced blearily to the door, just able to make out Barbatos’ silhouette against the darkness of the room. Though the outline of him was difficult to see, he was hard to miss in other ways. As he approached the bed, the ominous glow of his eyes, casting his face in a sickly green pallor, was the most noticeable feature.
You jolted up on the bed, recalling Barbatos’ instructions to wait up for him. But it was too late - Barbatos had already seen you sprawled out asleep on the bed, disobeying him once more. Passingly, you noted you hadn’t been the one to turn the lights off in the bedroom.
The bed sank with Barbatos’ weight when he reached the foot of it. He poised himself over you on his hands and knees, and you instinctively sank back against the sheets. As he leaned down, something cool, thick, and scaly curled purposefully around one of your thighs, teasing slowly further.
“Misbehaving again, already? You’ve been very insolent today. I’ll need to give you a much more thorough lesson this time, won’t I?”
EVER SINCE NEW YORK | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER
Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.
PART 1! - for Sara [@bravadostyles], the ultimate muse.
Empire State of Mind - Jay Z.
Animals - Maroon 5.
Dopamine - Børns.
Word Count: 4,731.
Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.
Spring, Freshman Year.
Tisch School of the Arts,
New York University.
New York City.
“You’ve got that face on,” Claire said.
“What face is that, Claire?”
“Your trademark ready-to-go-home face,” she giggled. “You tired?”
“Just a little,” you whispered, head resting on her shoulder, feet hanging off the bed. “Had a long day at rehearsal.”
“Ah,” she nodded. “Well, if you wanna go, we can go. I’ll walk you home.”
“No,” you shook your head, and placed your hand on her arm. “It’s fine. I’m having a good time.”
Soft music played through the small speakers on Jonathan’s desk, mixing in with the chatter of your friends. Everyone sat in different spaces around the room, some on the desk, some on John’s bed, and you and Claire rested on his roommate’s bed. Open solo cups of beer were scattered amongst the room. It was calm, chill, and then the door swung open.
“Yoooooo!” The entering voice rang, instantly earning a happy response from Johnathan, who hopped off his bed and ran towards the entrance.
“Gube!” John exclaimed, arms open wide to embrace his friend. He always got a little touchy-feely when he was tipsy. “Where the hell you been, man?”
“Consider my good time ruined,” you murmured to Claire.
“Be nice, [y/n],” she responded, patting your leg. “Everyone’s having a nice time, don’t start anything.”
“Me? Me? I don’t start anything, I never start anything. It’s him who starts it. That di—“
“Hey, [y/n],” Matthew greeted, taking a seat beside John. “Hey, Claire.”
“Hey, Gube,” Claire smiled. She gave you a gentle nudge with her elbow.
You rolled your eyes, “Hi, Matthew,” you reluctantly replied, refusing to make eye contact.
“Aw, c’mon, that’s all I get?” Matthew teased. “What’s wrong, sleeping beauty? You tired?”
“Oh, you have no idea,” you told him, finally looking over at him. He wore a white polo, paired with a busted pair of jeans and white converse with his mismatched socks poking out. On his chest sat his trademark gold chain, the medallion set in the center of his sternum.
“Might be past your bedtime,” he shrugged. “Really. Might be better if you just left.”
“Me?” You scoffed. “Why don’t you leave? We were perfectly fine before you got here.”
“Oh, God,” someone groaned. “Here they go.”
“John wants me here. I’m a little more fun than someone who falls asleep mid-conversation, so I can see why.”
“Matthew, why are you talking to me? Can you just pretend,” you waved your arms around. “Pretend there’s a wall here.”
“Don’t mind her,” Claire interjected. “She’s crabby because she hasn’t started editing her project yet.”
You gasped, “Why would you just announce that, Claire? I didn’t wanna be reminded of that.”
“[y/n], you’re gonna be fucked if you don’t get that shit done. It’s due next week.” Another friend told you.
You groaned, “Yes. I know that. But I’ve been killing myself practicing for the show every night. And when I finally sat down to start editing, I didn’t know how to work the damn software!”
“You don’t know how to work EasyEdit?”
“No,” you sighed. “I missed class that day. I tried to learn on YouTube, and that confused me even more. So, I have since then given up.”
“Hm,” John hummed. “You know who’s really good with EasyEdit?”
“Gube,” John answered. This prompted Matthew to lift his head up at astronomical speed, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “He taught me how to use it. He could help you, [y/n].”
“John...” Claire said.
“What, Claire?” John replied. “[y/n] needs help and Gube can help. I’m just saying.”
You cut your eyes over to Matthew, who was watching you, but he quickly turned away when you made eye contact.
“You’re not clever,” Claire shook her head. “You’re nosey is what you are.”
“Nosey?” You pipped, tapping Claire’s arm. “What do you mean nosey?”
“I mean, if you and Gube just...” John said. “I’m gonna say it - fucked - one good time, the two of you could get over this whole rivalry already.”
“And stop arguing all the damn time,” someone added. “The shit’s annoying.”
Your jaw had been dropped since the word ‘fucked’ was uttered. You looked up at Claire who gave you a sympathetic smile.
“I-“ You stuttered. “I...never say that again, John! Ever. Ew!”
“Ew?” Matthew exclaimed. “You’d be lucky if I tossed you a bone.”
Your jaw dropped even lower, stunned by Matthew’s words. “You arrogant son of a bitch,” you muttered. “And this is who you want me to allow near my final project?” You directed at John.
“Hey, if you don’t wanna fuck me, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Matthew taunted, biting his lip and tilting his head.
“No. I don’t wanna fuck you! I also don’t want to spend any more time with you than I absolutely have to. So I will learn EasyEdit by myself.”
“Okay,” Matthew shrugged. “You’re not gonna figure that shit out in time, but fine, princess. Be stubborn.”
You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head in annoyance.
“[y/n], let Gube help,” Claire said. “You’re gonna drive yourself insane with that and the show coming up, plus finals? Just this once.”
You looked over at Matthew, instantly getting angry again. Hate is a strong word. It’s a very, very strong word. And you’d never use it against anybody. Ever. Except Matthew Gubler. That may sound a bit dramatic, so to clear up any confusion, here’s a composite list of every asshole, dick, bastard, bitch-ass move he’s made in one semester:
1. Broke your editing equipment trying to do magic tricks in class.
2. Didn’t apologize.
3. Called your last documentary “uninspired, dry, a little like a lullaby.”
4. Took the last spot for an internship over Christmas break.
5. Which he knew you wanted.
6. Refused to partner with you on a final project because “you can’t even get to class everyday.”
7. In front of everyone because he’s a jackass.
8. Told you that you were insane for majoring in film making AND ballet.
9. Proceeded to tell you that you look better in a leotard than a suit.
10. Fucked your roommate.
11. While you were in the room.
12. Insisted that Wes Craven is a better horror director than Tim Burton? Is he dumb?
13. Calls you ballerina barbie, short stack, princess, anything other than your actual name.
14. Won’t drop dead.
And, because you’re not going to let anyone treat you that way, here’s a list of things you’ve done in retaliation:
1. “Accidentally” stepped on his canvas.
2. 3 times.
3. Uploaded a video of you calling him a dick in place of his documentary.
4. Yes, he did play it for the class on accident.
5. Told him you didn’t want to be his partner anyway since he walks around stoned 24/7.
7. Told him he’d be a good ballerina. His tiny dick would fit perfectly in a leotard.
8. Fucked his friend. While said friend was supposed to help Matthew with his project.
9. Told him none of Edgar Allan Poe’s work was actually interesting enough for screen time. (He almost passed out, he got so mad.)
10. Told him his mismatch socks were dumb.
11. Consistently call him asshole, dick, jackass, or just Matthew. All synonyms.
12. Refuse to let him mess with you.
So, the idea of him helping you with your project, coming into your room, bothering you for hours on end, was a ridiculous thought. You should punch John for even mentioning it. Except. It wasn’t a bad idea.
“Hey, pants stay on,” Matthew said, giving you a smirk. “Boy Scouts honor.”
Everyone was looking at you. It made you queasy. Annoyed. Angry. And you couldn’t take it. So, you sighed heavily and cut your eyes towards Matthew. “Fine,” you grimaced. “Fine. Monday night. You will teach me how to use EasyEdit. And then we can all drop this.”
“Ah, success,” John cheered. “I’m not worried, though. Look at [y/n], she’s so innocent. She looks like she belongs on top of a Christmas tree. She does ballet for crying out loud. I doubt fucking is on her to-do list.”
“And on that note,” you pushed yourself off the bed. “I’m going to my room. Goodnight.”
Your room was just down the hall, and you showered, changed, brushed your teeth and got into bed in all of 30 minutes. Just about to fall asleep, you were disturbed by the sound of keys jingling in the door. Sloppy footsteps stumbled into the room, accompanied by silly giggles.
Thinking you were asleep, your roommate admired your sleeping frame, “Awwww,” she cooed. “Precious, precious, [y/n].” She walked over to you and rubbed your shoulder.
“You’re crazy to not wanna fuck Matthew,” she whispered, chuckling. “You don’t know what you’re missing, kid.”
And you stayed still, silent, pretended to snore. All while Claire crawled into her bed.
When Monday rolled around, you spent the entire day with a chip on your shoulder. Claire kissed the top of your head and insisted you’d be fine, that your project would be done by the end of the night and you’d be grateful for Matthew’s help. But she knew that was a dead cause in her heart of hearts. You both knew it’d be a miracle if Matthew and you made it through 15 minutes of editing.
When she left to go to a friend’s place, you changed into pajama pants, combined with a cozy cropped button sweater. You sat at your desk, and waited. You’d told Matthew to arrive at 7.
He got there at 7:59.
By then, you were laying in bed, pissed and upset that you’d actually been convinced to give Matthew a chance. He knocked on the door, and you answered with an attitude. “Go home, Matthew.”
“Don’t be like that, short stack,” he sighed, following you as you stomped into the room. “I got caught up. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah? What’d you get caught up with? A gram?” You spit.
He laughed, “Haha, so funny. No, I was not getting high. I was working on my own project. That I finished. Ahead of time. Can you relate, [y/n]?”
“Get out of my room,” you scoffed. “I asked you for one thing. One. And you couldn't even do that. You knew how important this project was to me, and you didn’t give a fuck. I wasted time waiting for you that I could’ve been working or rehearsing! I—Are you listening?”
Matthew’s eyes had been concentrated solely on your chest, “Are you wearing a bra?” He asked.
You took a step back, stunned, blinking rapidly as you searched around the room. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m just trying to find where the hell that came from?”
“It came from that itty bitty shirt you’re wearing,” he replied with a shrug. “Doesn’t really leave much to the imagination.”
“Stop staring at my tits!” You shouted, face turning red. “God, Matthew, I can’t stand to look at you right now. Just, leave. Please.”
He did not stop staring at your tits. Not for a very long time. But when he did, he had this look in his eyes. Like a wire had snapped. And he kissed you. Cupped your face in his hands, pulled you close, and kissed you. You pressed your hands against his chest, face contorting in shock and confusion.
You pushed him away, lips retracting with a sharp smacking noise. Saliva dripped from your lips, and you stood there, huffing and puffing like the two of you had just run a mile. “What the hell was that?” You snapped, your fingertips lightly touching your bottom lip.
He didn’t reply. He was just as speechless as you were. Speechless, and confused, and out of breath, and so, so pretty. He was so pretty. Has he always been that pretty?
You grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and pulled him back in, pressing your lips together in an aggressive collision. Matthew’s hand gripped onto your hair, his body pushing itself against yours in an eager attempt to get as close to you as possible. His other hand made its way to your waist, gripping onto your skin so hard, his nails left marks. Both his hands began to snake down your body, landing on the back of your thighs.
Very suddenly, Matthew scooped you up in his arms, yanking your feet off of the ground. You let out a breathy ‘oof’ as you found yourself perched in his grasp, your legs wrapped around his torso, your hands on his shoulders. He supported your weight so easily, all while sliding his tongue into your mouth.
He carried you over to your bed, where he abruptly dropped you onto the mattress, and looked down at you with a lustful grin. Standing beside the bed, he leaned in as if he was going to kiss you — slowly, with his hands reaching out to touch your body — but he didn’t. Instead, he placed his hands on your ribs and pushed your sweater up, over your breasts to reveal your chest.
“I knew it,” he whispered. “I knew you weren’t wearing a bra.”
Your breath caught in your throat, before you released it shakily. His lips wrapped around your nipple, wetting it with his tongue and applying light suction. A soft moan left your mouth, and you gripped onto his hair in ecstasy. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He sucked harder, to the point of pain, just to hear you make some noise. Any noise. When one nipple began to pulse between his lips, he moved to the other, leaving a trail of love bites between them.
The heat between your legs was suffocating, and you rubbed your thighs together for some relief. Matthew noticed this, and proceeded to stick his hands down your pants, fingers sliding underneath the band of your underwear. He smirked at how soaked you were already and rubbed your clit as he licked a trail up to your neck. You tightened your thighs around his hand, gasping at the friction and pulling at the bedsheets.
The sound caused Matthew to take in a sharp breath of air. His cock was pressed against the zipper of his jeans, and was getting to the point that it was excruciating. So, as he massaged your nerve, he undid his pants and pushed them down his legs.
He nibbled on your ear, and as you gave him a quiet moan, your eyes flickered down to look between your bodies. Flushed, and horny, and suddenly so desperate, you grabbed onto Matthew’s large erection and pressed the tip against your clit.
He grunted and pulled back to stare you in the eye, a sly grin creeping onto his face. He laughed, “I knew it. I fucking knew it. Innocent? Innocent, my ass.”
As you rolled your eyes at him, he kissed your lips softly, hands holding onto your thighs. You positioned his cock at your entranced and allowed him to press into you. He stood up straight, watching his cock disappear inside you, slowly, steadily, before he suddenly slammed into you. The sound of skin colliding on skin mixed in with your and Matthew’s moans, and he watched your head roll back in pleasure.
He licked his lips, smirking. And he did it again. And again. And again. Pulling out all the way and pushing back into you. Hard. The sensation struck your chest, and elicited vulnerable moans from you every time he pounded you. Matthew instantly began to speed his hips up, nails digging into your thighs as he pressed your legs open for him. His used all his strength to fuck you, your head knocking into the wall with every thrust. It was sloppy and messy and you couldn’t stop whimpering. Your eyes were screwed shut, and when you opened them again, the first thing you noticed with his chain. The gold medallion dangled in your face, Matthew’s lips pressed against your cheek.
Absentmindedly, you tangled your fingers in the chain, tugging on it as your volume increased. “Fuck,” you muttered. “Oh, fuck.”
He brought his hand up to your face, placing his thumb on your bottom lip. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, quietly, softly. And you did it without thinking. His thumb slid into your mouth, twirling around your tongue and stifling your moans.
He removed his hand and placed his thumb on your clit, wetting the skin with your own saliva. You let out a loud yelp at the new sensation, and a bubble instantly formed in your stomach.
Oh, no, not Matthew, you thought. Don’t let it be Matthew.
But with his cock and his hips and the way he kissed your neck and rubbed your sensitive nerve all at once. You came, you came with a fit of pornographic moans, trembling and writhing around on the bed.
And it was Matthew — the first guy to make you come. Ever.
He licked his lips as he watched you come undone beneath him, proud of himself — to the point of cockiness. Giving you a few more forceful pumps, he pulled out of you and released himself onto your chest, watching the fluid cover the hickies he’d left there.
He looked angelic on top of you, moaning, panting, swearing under his breath. But the moment he finished, he stepped back, fastened his pants and walked away. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him in a daze.
Matthew logged onto your computer, pressed a few buttons and then closed the laptop shut. Then he left.
However, the next day he sent you an email. Your project. Fully and perfectly edited.
Okay. So, that happened. They said it would happen and it happened. Didn’t necessarily make you hate Matthew any less, but it happened. It was good. You hated to admit it. And it was all you could think about. You couldn’t even touch yourself or hold your pillow without thinking of Matthew. It was bad.
Especially, given the fact that after the whole situation, he decided not to talk to you. At all. Not in class, not while hanging out with friends, not even to pick a fight. Complete and utter radio silence. He looked at you enough though. Not while you were looking at him, of course. So, as far as you knew, you were far off of his mind. But life had to go on. You had to focus on school, and on top of that, you were due to perform in NYU’s production of Swan Lake in less than two weeks.
You landed the main role of Odette, meaning for the next two weeks, you had to eat, sleep, breathe ballet. You practiced for hours on end, barely saw your friends, which gave you a good break from seeing Matthew.
Opening night rolled around and you were so nervous, you thought you might puke. Only a freshman, it was a miracle you landed the role in the first place, which meant your performance tonight was a make or break moment. Claire could tell you were sick to your stomach and tried to distract you by taking a bunch of pictures on her phone.
“Smile, pretty girl!” She beamed, the flashing going off in your face as you posed. “[y/n], you’re gonna kill it! I’m so excited! Aren’t you excited?”
“Yeah...” you whispered. “Deathly excited.”
“Aw, poor baby,” she swung her arm around your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna be front and center, cheering you on. Just focus on me, okay?”
You smiled and nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Okay.”
Your body was on autopilot out on stage. The movements you’d practiced everyday, for hours and hours on end, just flowed. The lighting in the audience was dark, but you could just barely make out Claire’s figure under the soft hue.
It wasn’t until the finale, when you stood ready for your closing performance, that the lights switched to their full intensity and you noticed a hand resting on Claire’s shoulder. An arm resting behind her head. Someone whispering in her ear, making her laugh.
He was here. He was here and he was with Claire. He was with Claire and he was watching you. And it made your stomach feel weird. But then the music kicked up. So, you had to go. You fell into your dance, your rhythm and for some reason, you could not stop staring at Matthew.
Every twirl, you made him your focal point. Looking at him again, and again, and again. Until the lights went out.
Supporting ballerinas cheered you on as you walked offstage, throwing flowers at your feet and giving you applause. Your instructor marched right up to you, kissed both sides of your face and embraced you. It was a wonderful feeling, but right then, you were drained, emotionally, mentally, physically, you needed some rest.
You locked yourself away in your dressing room, taking a seat in the mirror and beginning to remove your tights. Pressing a makeup wipe to your skin, you jumped, startled by a knock on the door. You rose from your seat and walked to the entrance casually, expecting Claire to greet you.
But you froze, as soon as you opened the door. Eyes glazing over the person in front you, your breath caught in your throat. “Matthew.”
“Hey,” he smiled. He looked you up and down — your naked legs, your breasts poking through the thin material of the leotard. “You...you were amazing tonight.”
“Thank you,” you whispered. “Bye.”
You attempted to close the door on him, but his put his elbow against the frame, stopping it in motion. “Whoa,” he exclaimed, pushing his way into the room. “What the hell is your problem?” He closed the door behind him.
“My problem is that I’m very tired, and still need to change, and greet everyone waiting for me. So, I don’t have time for this.”
“Time for what?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
You ducked your head down, “Nothing. Nothing. You need to leave.”
“Hey, hey, hey, ballerina barbie,” he mocked. “What’s your deal?”
“I don’t have a deal! I have nothing to say to you Matthew. Same way you have nothing to say to me.” You scrunched up your face in a frown.
“I...” he paused, laughing under his breath. “I never said I didn’t have something to tell you. In fact, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”
You looked up at him — the gel in his hair, his black button down shirt flowing over his belt buckle, his dark eyes, his lips and the way they were pouting just a little. And like a magnet, you found yourself being pulled towards him. You jumped into his arms, hands on his face, and connecting your lips, mouths open, tongues touching.
Matthew held you up, moaning against your lips. “Mm,” you hummed. “Wait, what if someone comes in?”
Matthew thought quickly, hiking you up in his arms and shoving your back against the door. “Well, now they can’t get in, can they?” He mumbled, leaving kisses along your neck.
Your jaw dropped and you started to undo his belt, freeing his cock from his pants. He grunted against your skin as you stroked him, your head leaned back against the door, your chest heaving. You used your other hand to pull your leotard to the side, revealing your throbbing core.
Matthew smirked, letting you guide his dick to your entrance, and pushed his way into you swiftly. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck to keep yourself quiet. His thrusts were quick, rough, messy. He was much more vocal this time, making no effort to stay silent.
“Fuck,” he moaned in your ear. “F-fuck, I forgot how good your pussy is. Fuck.”
The feeling was mutual. For the past month, you’d be wondering what the hell about Matthew had you so stuck. So fixated on him. And this was it. He filled you up perfectly, could manhandle you however he wanted, and always, always made sure you came.
He fucked you harder when he noticed your orgasm nearing — your quickened breaths, frequent moans and whines, and your legs tightening against his torso. “Oh, my God,” you whimpered.
“Shit, are you gonna come?” He asked. “Good.”
Breathless, speechless, you stared into his eyes helplessly as your body began to crumble. All power left your body and you held onto his shirt for dear life. He gave you a small smile, and flipped his hair out of his face, looking down at his cock. He could pinpoint the exact stroke that did it. The one that sent you into a state of euphoria, sent your eyes rolling back, your body into intense shock.
You let out a long and weakened sigh as the wave washed over you, and Matthew continued to plow into you like nothing was happening.
“It’s so cool how your pussy tightens up when you come,” he chuckled. “It’s hot.”
You rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice, clawing at the back of his neck. His breathing became ragged and hoarse, and he had to pull out of you before he came. He jerked himself off until he exploded onto your clothing. And with you being dressed in all black, his stains stood out perfectly on your costume.
This time, he gave you a kiss on the cheek before he left.
The week after that was finals week. And neither of you could be bothered to reach out. Despite the not-so-subtle confession of bitterness and the very intense orgasms you shared, you and Matthew simply went back to not talking. Your friends thought it was strange, even commented that they missed the bickering. The two of you shrugged in response.
Most of your dorm room was in boxes by the time you finished your last final exam. Claire was slower to pack up than you were, considering she only lived an hour away, but she applauded you for your determination. The day Claire did start packing was the day before you left for the summer. The two of you spent the day getting everything cleared out, cleaned, squared away.
While the two of you sat on your bed, watching Netflix, a knock sounded from your door. Claire hopped up and headed towards the entrance, opening it with a grand smile. “Gube!” She shouted, instantly opening her arms for a hug. Matthew wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, carrying her into the room with a smile.
“Are you about to leave?” She asked him, holding onto his arms as he placed her feet back on the ground.
“Yeah, my mom’s here. So, I wanted to stop by and say goodbye,” he nodded.
“Aw, Gube, you softie,” she giggled. “[y/n], come say bye.”
“I can say bye from right here, Claire,” you replied. She gave you a look, and you felt compelled to get off the bed. So you did, you approached them, “Bye, Matthew.”
“Bye, shortcake,” he laughed. “Bye, Claire.” He pulled your roommate into another hug, while you stood there, crossing your arms in annoyance.
Matthew peeked at you over Claire’s shoulder. One hand rubbed her back and the other reached out to you, holding a small note.
Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, then the note, then Claire. You ripped the paper from his hand, and stuffed it into your pocket right away. He smirked at you, and turned his attention back to Claire.
“Hey,” he said to her. “Come back to my place, I want everyone there to show my mom I actually have friends.”
Claire chuckled and nodded, “Okay,” she shrugged. “Let’s go. [y/n], you coming?”
“Uh, no,” you shook your head. “I’m gonna keep packing, but I’ll text you later.”
“Okay,” Claire smiled, and she let Matthew whisk her away.
You sighed, and as soon as the door closed, you pulled the crumpled piece of paper from your pocket. You opened it up to reveal — not a meaningful message, not even a few words. Just one string of numbers, writing in his handwriting:
Hazbin Hotel's Double Plot: Charlie and Angel Dust - Or - Why Charlie and Angel Dust are Both Main Characters (And I love one more than the other)
By: Peggy Sue Wood | @peggyseditorial
Welcome to Storytelling Class, everyone. Now, who remembered to brush up on their Shakespeare? No one? Not to worry, Prof. Peggy (not official... yet) is going to explain it all anyway with a bunch of unnecessary questions she plans to answer for you. Ready?
Here's a question: What is a double plot?
It's a more common occurrence in storytelling than you may think and is sometimes mistaken for subplot though the two are not the same. Shakespeare used double plots in several of his works, though King Lear is the most common example. We generally call a double plot structure that which takes two stories with combined plotlines. The two stories could stand alone but are purposefully combined to depict complex situations mirroring each other, often to comment upon or reinterpret events that transpire in other dramatic situations. "Often this takes the form of relatively minor characters and plotlines doubling events and situations from the 'main' dramatic narrative" (Reinke 1, LINK). The main characters of the "second" plot are often supporting characters in the "main" story and vice-versa, meaning that the main characters in the "main" story may act as supporting characters in the "second" plot.
Subplots have entirely different focuses that ultimately guide the main plot, such as on a hero's quest, the hero's party must split into groups to find different items for a magical spell. Following the group that went away from the party in different chapters is an example of a subplot, as this is a subordinate "plots" that serve the progression of the main one. A good indicator of a double plot instead of a subplot is figuring out whether or not the two plots could stand alone.
John Lithgow, far left, with Clarke Peters in the Shakespeare in the Park production of "King Lear" at the Delacorte Theater. Credit: Sara Krulwich/The New York Times
Using King Lear as an example, our "main" plot features King Lear as the main character of his tragedy, and the "second" plot features Lord Gloucester in a tragedy mirroring King Lear's story. In both plots, the main characters suffer from their past choices. A more modern example would be that of Netflix's Russian Doll, in which we follow two distinctive main characters suffering from, and traversing, a similar path. We can define them as double plots because splitting the two stories in each work to create separate works with connected characters would still work. (Essentially, the two stories of each work can stand alone--we don't need to know what is happening to Lord Gloucester to get what is going on in King Lear's story. It helps to know that Lord Gloucester's story, but it is not required to understand Lear's story since what will be important to Lear’s plot will be revealed to Lear’s character later on.)
Another example of a double plot structure in a modern work would be that of Hazbin Hotel--let's discuss.
We often define a plot by three things. First, the main character; second, the question that said character needs to answer; and, third, the problem(s) that led them to seek an answer to the asked question. In a double plot, you have to answer the first and third questions twice, which we can easily do with Hazbin Hotel.
Let's start with Question 1. Who is/are the main character(s)? I've stated that it is Charlie and Angel Dust, but why? Two reasons. The first is how each character is introduced, and the second is that they are both asking the same question, though with different reasons behind it.
In the Prologue/Chapter 1 of the Hazbin Hotel comic, the first character we are introduced to is Angel Dust. He is our introduction into this fictional world, and his story follows the hero's journey narrative making him one of the main characters and defining his story as at least one, if not the main, plot in our double plot structure. Charlie is one of the two main characters for the same reasons. She also appears in that first chapter near the end (just like King Lear, who comes in after Lord Gloucester's introduction), and is beginning a hero's journey of her own. Both their stories ask the same question but have different reasons for seeking the answer.
Beginning with Angel Dust, we see that his story starts in a comfort zone--that zone being a criminal lifestyle shown with him trying to make a deal with some demonic mafioso-looking dudes. We soon find out that he's actually acting out despite appearing comfortable in this kind of situation because he what? Wants something, that's right (I knew you were a smart cookie).
When the deal with the mafia-demons doesn't go so well, we see him thrown into a familiar though much worse situation with his abuser and pimp, Valentino. This is our introduction to the main problems in Angel's current life, the issues that are making him want something outside of his comfort zone. To get what he wants, Angel must enter an unfamiliar, perhaps dangerous, territory and adapt to it until he achieves the goal or fails trying, and the person that provides the opportunity for entering the unfamiliar world, the Hazbin Hotel, is Charlie.
With Charlie's introduction at the end of chapter one, we begin seeing her hero's journey unfold. At present (her meeting Angel Dust), she is seen in her comfort zone. She's in a chauffeured limo with her bodyguard girlfriend, comfortably giving money to Angel Dust and acting as a somewhat naive and rather hopeful princess you might find in any fairytale story. She wants something but has yet to enter the unfamiliar situation (at least until episode 1, where Alistar steps in but that's not important right now). This closes the comic, but perfectly sets up the double plot narrative moving forward, thus helping to identify our two main characters.
What fully defines them as the main characters, my second reason for claiming both Angel Dust and Charlie to be one, is that second question we have for defining plot (the question that the main character needs to answer).
Charlie says that the goal, or question she seeks to answer, is whether or not a sinner can be redeemed once they find themselves in Hell; however, I would argue that the real question is whether or not salvation (preservation or deliverance from harm, ruin, or loss) is possible for Hell's population. Charlie's "redemption" is instead a method to seek the answer to the question rather than the question itself.
I argue this because that seems to be the end-goal Charlie is seeking for the citizens of Hell--salvation from being slaughtered on an annual basis. It is also the goal of Angel Dust, who seeks to be saved from his current life through his own hands or by someone else (though he doesn't seem to believe that someone else would help him without costing him something in return). For those of you wondering, Angel seems to be seeking an escape from many things, such as needing to trade sexual favors to his landlord because Valentino doesn't pay him well, an escape from hunger, and potentially other physical dangers.
The two are both seeking answers to this question but going about it in somewhat different ways.
In a recent video by Diregentleman, Why Angel Dust Should Be The Protagonist In Hazbin Hotel (it's brilliant, btw--a highly recommended watch if you have the time because most all his points are great), he argues that because Angel's story is more compelling and interesting, he should be the main character and while I agree that Angel's story is more compelling to myself as a viewer (just as I felt Lord Gloucester's story was far better than King Lear's parts), I still think Charlie's story worth the focus it is given in tandem with Angel Dust's.
WITH THAT CONCLUDED, I want to talk about my favorite character, Angel Dust! The lesson is over--let's nerd out.
I have been thinking about this A LOT since Episode 1 came out, and when "Addict" dropped, I was pumped. In October of last year, I uploaded the first draft for the review into the Google file our team shares but had been writing said draft for a long while already, and watching Diregentleman's video pushed me over the edge to scrap the planned post that should have gone up at 7 AM this morning and instead re-write and post this. Because as much as I loath spiders--I LOVE Angel Dust.
Gosh, where do I begin….
Angel has been beaten down to the point that his character is a tad bit all over the place. Is he the villain? Sort of? At least, he comes off as one since he's not working very hard to fulfill his end of the bargain with Charlie and since he is a demon--but he also has qualities that are very much fitting the "redemption" Charlie is aiming for without any prompting. In fact, it's what made him so likable to me before the music video release of "Addict"--which just made me love him more. What do I mean?
Well, in the first episode, we see him just coming back from prostituting himself--a job he appears to be forced to do by Valentino (one of the big-bads of Viziepop's Hell):
Valentino: Did you get my money, Angie Baby?
Angle: I'm wittha John now [sic]. I don't get why this needed to happen so soon after the extermination tho, Boss
Valentino: Just do it. No sass k sugar.
Angle: yes Val
He then buys drugs, which get stolen only to see a large piece of a building fall onto the would-be thief. Is he worried about the thief? No. Angel is only concerned with the drugs. Immediately after that, he joins a turf war with a friend of his, Cherri Bomb, and participates in wrecking what remains of the city from the previous night's purging (when Angels descend upon Hell and kill off a bunch of Hell's populous).
Cherri is his friend, and it is at this moment, we see his first redeeming quality in the animated pilot--a self-sacrificing protective nature for a friend. How? You may ask, well, Angel is shown saving Cherri. It happens when Angel sees a weapon pointed at them, something that Cherri doesn't notice. He pushes her out of the way, unsure of what may happen, thereby allowing himself to be captured (or potentially injured) instead of her.
That's self-sacrificing and is generally considered a "righteous" quality.
It's not like she could be killed--they're already dead and, from what we've learned, the already dead demons of Hell can only be killed by weapons the angels use or that which is made of the material angels use during the culling period that just ended the night before. The egg creature is not using one of these weapons at this moment, meaning that Cherri is not in danger of death, only injury.
Despite knowing that Cherri would ultimately be fine, Angel pushes her out of the way and takes the injury risk. (If he suspected that the weapon might kill her, then even more kudos to him here as that means he threw his life before his friend's.) This moment shows that Angel does value life outside of himself, which doesn't immediately come across when we meet him given the crushed thief moment we had prior.
This act of self-sacrificing, which is generally considered a virtue, shows that he has potential to change.
Expanding from this, we see him empathizing with Charlie and expressing a moment of guilt. The scene happens after Angel, Charlie, and Vaggy return to the hotel. Angel is presented with the opportunity to "change" (offer an apology to Charlie that he actually means), an opportunity he doesn't take, but the fact that he's considering it when he previously felt no guilt for his actions shows that he is capable of it.
Once Alistar comes into play, we see more of Angel's potential to change. For example, Angel is shown holding Vaggy back from attacking Alistar, which could be read in two ways. Either he holds her back because he doesn't want Alistar to leave (unlikely that Alistar would leave over Vaggy's attack), or Angel is preventing Vaggy from running at Alistar and potentially getting hurt, a very strong possibility that we learn through Vaggy's comment about how powerful the Radio Demon is and how he's grappled bigger demons on a larger scale to take over parts of the underworld.
If we're to believe the story elements pictured in the music video of "Addict," then Angel is in a horrible spot. He's being abused and treated like a working slave to Valentino with little hope of escape on his own and few options to reach out to for help (if one can even ask for help openly in Hell given the place and the people).
While Charlie is nice, shown by her giving Angel money and helping him avoid having to sell himself on the street that night for Valentino in the Prologue/Chapter 1 of the comic, she too has expectations for him or does it with an ulterior motive in mind. He's a big name in Hell, and she wants him for her program. While it may not be intentional, Charlie asking him to try the program in exchange for money sends the same message Angel points out during the offer: Nothing is free--even kindness, particularly from the Princess of Hell. No matter how cute and lovable she appears...
Charlie's story is less compelling, and it's not simply because she comes from a place of privilege, as I've heard some say. I mean, I love lots of stories with the rich and powerful, and if the many seasons of Dynasty can stand as an example--so do a lot of over people. Charlie's story is less compelling because we can't relate to her choices given the situation we see her in or the problems she's facing. For example, she has great political power that goes completely unused. She's a princess of hell, obviously not struggling too much since she's chauffeured around and seen atop a tall--safe--tower overlooking the purged city below in Episode 1. She isn't in a bad situation, from what we can tell, not the same way Angel Dust is, at least. Her problems are more like a passion project from what we've seen so far, and we don't know why she is motivated to make this redemption program work outside of wanting to help her people. But if she wants to help people, why the hotel?
She has power as a princess that she could use to help correct injustices in her kingdom, such as attempting to put an end to the turf-wards since it seems that the demons fighting for territory still follow and respect the royals and nobility to some degree. But, instead, she's created a program to change people into what she thinks is Heaven's ideal--a thing that may stop the culling by allowing demons to transition out into what? Angels? Spirits? Who knows. Regardless, it's a small-scale venture that doesn't attempt to use the influence she's been given to make sincere changes in the kingdom. Instead, she uses it to get publicity on a news station, and even that is a weak attempt. I mean, if she was doing this right, that new-caster shouldn't have been able to make a single nasty comment towards her during the whole process. I mean, I doubt the newscast would have said a thing had her parents been up there, which shows that she's walked all over and that she's let it happen.
My point is that Charlie's story doesn't yet make sense. It's harder for us, the audience, to put ourselves in her shoes than it is with Angel Dust, and that's why I love him more than other characters, and certainly more than his double plot counterpart, Charlie.
I look forward to seeing more of this series going forward and hope that Episode 2 comes out soon!
Little Wife - Chapter 6
Characters: Charles Blackwood x Reader
Fic Summary: Charles Blackwood finds he needs a wife and an heir, so he sets his eyes on you, an innocent waitress (DARK FIC)
Warnings: Charles’ gross little manipulations, mentions of death, dirty thoughts, innocence kink, breeding kink, typical mid 20th century sexism, generally things Shirley Jackson would hate me for, masturbation (female and male), period typical sexual repression, praise kink, non consensual voyeurism, I have a hand fetish and it shows, mentions of alcohol/ alcoholism, dub/ non con oral (male and female), spanking, something akin to choking (more to be added as story develops)
Author’s Notes: Happy 4 AM upload! This chapter hasn’t been beta’ed, I was to excited to remind everyone what a bastard Charles is post. Also we have new characters!
Everything Taglist: @itgetsdarksometimes35 @nsfwsebbie @xoxabs88xox @coconutqueen21 @villanellevi
Taglist:@hoseokchild @buckybarnesscrunchie @boinkybornes @perrythefrickinplatypus @taliarose12 @bonkybarnes107 @ariesmadness97 @e1e4n0r5 @lovelynerdytraveler @ok-buchanan @sweetlittlegingy @harleyandtula @oofjustanothermcufan @downheartedboi @jazztherebel @hurricanerin @pinkzsugar @shippers-heart @fangirl-library @secretlyactivated @sammyslonglostshoe @stupendousshepherdloverpony @blue-ishx @yoooitssalexx @hazel0clouds @nannies-dont-date @swapmeetsallyaz @quaint-constantine @widowsmaximoff @rayofdawnworld @missrandomista @dark-night-sky-99
You stared slack jawed at the fifty dollar bill Charles pressed into your hand. You’d tried to give it back at least three times, but he was too persistent.
“Charles please,” You insisted. “It really is too much. I can find a fine dress for far less.” You kept your voice down, not wanting to disturb anyone, especially this late at night.
“No sweetheart, it’s yours.” Charles put his foot down and forced your fingers to close around his money. “Every cent of it, even if you spend less than that on the dress. I won’t take any of it back.” He smiled and playfully wagged a finger in your face.
“Then what am I supposed to do with the rest?” You couldn’t help but return his easy grin. “I’d feel guilty if I kept it.” You bit your lip as you put the bill in your purse.
“Get something to wear for the wedding night.” He winked as his arms circled your waist. “Anything that would make you happy. It’s my job to take care of you now.” He kissed your temple as he held you.
He was right. You’d just finished your last shift at the diner. You had breathed a sigh of relief as you’d stepped into the clean night air, but you knew a little part of you would miss it. You sighed again as you fit your head in the crook of Charles’ neck.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He questioned as he nuzzled the top of your head. “You’re mad at me for being too good of a provider?” He jested.
“No.” You laughed into the collar of his shirt. “It’s just that I’m not used to being taken care of like this. Being given money with nothing to offer in return.” You couldn’t help but feel like it was something you didn’t deserve.
“Hey,” He regarded you seriously as he lifted your chin. “I’m going to be your husband; I want to make sure all of your needs are met. And while I do love your modesty sweetheart, don’t let it make you feel like you’re a burden.” Besides, you’ll have plenty to offer me in the future. Charles thought as he pulled away from you to sit on your front step. “Come here.” He still held your hand, and guided you to sit beside him.
“Thank you, Charles.” You snuggled into his side as he put an arm around your shoulders. “You know what would make me happy?” You ventured with some trepidation.
“What’s that, baby?” He held you tighter and kissed the top of your head.
“I’d like to have a small wedding.” You nervously twirled your engagement ring around your finger, the weight of it being there still strange to you. “If you wouldn’t mind it, that is. It’s just that we don’t have a large family to accommodate, and it’d be easier on both of us to keep it simple.”
“If that’d make you happy, Y/N. I’ll take you to the courthouse tomorrow if it’s what you want.” Charles had to reign in his excitement as he held you closer.
“Well I don’t think I can be ready on that short of a notice.” You laughed as you considered his words. “But we may as well get married soon. If we don’t have much to plan, what’s the point in waiting?”
“I couldn’t agree more, sweetheart.” Your words threw Charles off guard. Once again, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to find you. So sweet, so complacent, and you were ready to be his as soon as possible. He’d have you swollen with his child before Christmas if his streak of luck continued.
You smiled at Charles and leaned in to kiss him, also wondering how in the world you’d been so fortunate.
Friday afternoon, you answered the door for a frazzled young mother with an adorable baby in her arms. You leaned in to hug her as soon as she had a free arm.
“Sorry I brought Junior along.” Your friend Margaret balanced the stirring infant as she sat next to you on the couch. “The girls were fine when I dropped them at my mother’s, but this little man’s still attached to my hip.”
“He’s no trouble at all.” You were just grateful to have your friends over to help plan your wedding. You smiled and waved at the baby, his pudgy little hand reaching out to grab your finger. “He’s gotten so big already!”
“Well believe me, he eats well.” Margaret sighed as she adjusted her son in her lap. “I don’t think I’ve slept through the night since high school.” She had gotten married practically the day after graduation.
“Shelly’s the same way.” Your other friend Jeanie added. “I’m glad we planned for her when we did. Now I get to stay up at night caring for a newborn, rather than lesson planning.”
“You only have about another month until you’re back in the classroom, and then where will she be?” Alice questioned. She was also married, but with no children of her own yet.
“My neighbor, Mrs. Spencer, offered to watch her while I’m at school. She’s never married, so she jumped at the chance to babysit.” Jeanie reached forward to pick up her tea. “You remember her, Y/N? She used to watch my brother and I when we were kids.”
You were about to respond when Alice cut you off.
“I don’t know, Shelly is such a young baby to be left with a sitter. Especially everyday while her mother works.” Alice replied coolly.
“We’ve managed just fine while her father’s been at work, I imagine we’ll continue to do so.” Jeanie rebutted as she adjusted her tweed skirt.
“I’m just so glad to see you all again.” You hoped to defuse the budding argument. “It feels like it’s been so long since we’ve all gotten together.”
“Yes it has.” Margaret concurred, also eager to shift the mood. The two of you always had to prevent Alice and Jeanie from going at it. They really were the best of friends, but had such conflicting ideas. “And I believe congratulations are in order.” Margaret smiled kindly and hugged around your shoulders. You returned the gesture the best you could; it was awkward with the baby squished between you.
“Yes of course.” Alice smoothed her perfectly styled raven waves, coming back to civility. “Congratulations Y/N, now let’s talk about the happy day.”
“You’re a perfect autumn bride!” Jeanie added, excitedly shifting in her seat. “Just think about how wonderful you’ll look with all the fall foliage around.”
“Well thank you, Jeanie. But Charles and I are actually planning to get married before the end of August.” You leaned over the tea tray to pour for Margaret.
“But that’s so soon!” Margaret interjected. She immediately went to soothe her son, who’d been disturbed by her sudden outburst.
“It is, but we don’t really have anything to wait for. The only family I have is my mom, and he doesn’t really have anyone on his side. It’ll be small anyway, none of the guests will need a travel notice.” You shrugged as you fiddled with the plate of small baked goods.
“Well you're lucky. No parents means you’ll have no mother in law to deal with.” Alice reached over the coffee table to pat your hand.
You were stunned at her casual, callous way of saying it. Charles loved his mother, had grieved for her at such a young age. You’d never consider getting a larger family a burden.
“Oh you’re right.” Jeanie surprised you even more by agreeing with Alice. “Bill’s mother acts like Shelly is her own. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to have the help, but whenever I’m around she has to undercut everything that I do.”
“Well she wouldn’t have a chance to if you didn’t work.” Alice snidely cut in.
“Does Charles want kids?” Margaret swiftly changed the subject and you couldn’t thank her enough.
“Oh yes, but we haven’t talked too much about that yet.” You flushed as you remembered the things he’d said, and done to you in his car. “That’ll have to wait until I go back to school though.”
“Why would you need to go to college?” Alice asked as she daintily picked up a lemon bar. “You are marrying a Blackwood, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?” You had no idea how Alice could know Charles’ family.
“You mean you don’t know?” Her brow lifted in genuine confusion. “The Blackwoods are old money. My husband used to have some sort of business with one of the deceased Blackwood men. I can’t believe you didn’t know, Y/N.”
“I guess I just never really thought about his money.” It’s not like it mattered to you. You loved Charles for who he was and how he treated you.
“Would you like to hold Junior, Y/N?” Margaret shifted the baby in her arms. “I have to excuse myself to the restroom.”
“Of course.” You took the precious bundle from his mother and settled him in your arms. Inquisitive eyes looked up to meet yours, stunning jade green just like his mom’s. You rocked him gently and cooed, brushing a hand lightly over his wispy brown hair. He giggled as you tickled under his chin.
“Y/N,” You looked over at Alice as she called your attention. “Is there any reason you and Charles are tying the knot so quickly?” You didn’t get her meaning until she looked pointedly at the baby in your arms.
“Oh no. Of course not!” You couldn’t believe what she’d insinuated.
“It’s alright if that is the case.” Jeanie added gently. “At least he’s doing the right thing. Look at Margaret and her husband, they’re very happy together.”
“What?” What did Margaret have to do with anything?
“Honey,” Alice looked like she was trying not to roll her eyes. “Her first was born only six months after her wedding. I swear, I don’t know how you can still be so innocent.”
“Well in any case, Charles and I have never... gone to bed together.” You stated as gracefully as you could. “We won’t until after we’re married. He knows how important that is to me.” And it’s not like the... things you did together really counted. It’s not like it could get you pregnant.
Although you couldn’t judge Margaret for her choices. It was her life and she was a wonderful mother to her three children. You just didn’t know how you’d been so naive.
Charles took you out to lunch the following day. It was Saturday, and he was intent on spending the whole day with you. You’d just left the restaurant and went for a drive, the top down and the breeze flowing in your hair.
“I wanna show you something, sweetheart.” Charles shouted to you over the sound of the wind.
“Where are we going?” Not that it really mattered; you were always happy just being in his company.
“It’s a surprise, baby.” Charles smiled to himself as you stared at the passing buildings.
The further he drove, the more the residential landscape changed. Gone were the cramped townhouses in the heart of the city. These properties were expansive, with wide lush green lawns denoting the owners’ wealth. Charles slowed in one particular neighborhood, before pulling into a driveway. It was a brick faced colonial with stately black shutters. It was beautiful, and probably wildly expensive.
“This is your house?” You asked as you stared up at the imposing residence.
“Our house soon, Y/N.” Charles took your hand and kissed it before guiding you out of the car.
He brought you up the front steps and unlocked the door. The interior of the house was just as beautiful, if a bit plain. He took you through the lower level, all done in elegant neutrals. You particularly liked the stone fireplace in the living room, which would be a blessing in the harsh New England winter.
I’m really gonna live here. You realized as led you to the kitchen.
“I’m thinking about having a dishwasher installed soon.” Charles circled his arms around your waist as he stood in front of you. “And of making some improvements throughout.”
“What could there be to improve? It’s exquisite.” You grinned against his lips as he gave you a chaste kiss.
“There’s always improvements to be made; I want you to be comfortable here, Y/N.” Charles massaged his hands over your hips as he kissed you again. “I want it to be perfect for us, baby.”
“It’s already perfect if it’s with you.” You laced your hands around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. “Although maybe it could use a little more color.”
“Maybe.” He laughed gently as he pulled you closer. “We’ll fill the house with color, and the smell of your wonderful cooking.”
“Wonderful, really?” You teased.
“Mm hmm.” Another quick peck. “And we’ll have your mother over for dinner every Sunday.”
“I’d like that.” You were happy he included your mother in his picture of domestic bliss.
“And soon it won’t just be the two of us.” One of his large hands smoothed over your stomach. “We’ll fill the empty bedrooms upstairs with our babies.”
His mouth met yours again, but he didn’t pull away. His lips crashed against yours, his tongue demanding access to your mouth. Greedily, ardently he owned you before suddenly pulling away.
“Let me show you our bedroom, baby.” His voice was rough as he brushed his fingers down the side of your face.
“O-okay.” You stuttered after gulping down a lungful of air.
There was a slight tremor in your body as you followed him up the stairs. Sure you had fooled around before, but this was different. You were truly alone together and you weren’t confident in your self control.
He brought you in the master bedroom; all thoughts of doubt cleared as he kissed you senseless. Charles untucked your blouse from your skirt before pushing you down to lay on the bed. He unbuttoned your shirt as he trailed kisses down your neck. You gasped as he pushed up your bra, exposing your breasts to the cool air. Your breath caught in your throat as he took one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. You were caught off guard by the new erotic sensation, and couldn’t decide if you wanted more. Charles slid both of his hands over your thighs to pull up your skirt.
“Charles wait.” You beseeched as he exposed your core. He seemed to not hear you, and reached down again to undo his pants. “Charles, please listen to me.”
“I just wanna show you something different, baby.” He assured as he freed his erection.
“No stop.” You pleaded as you wiggled underneath him. “Please, I told you I wasn’t ready for this.” You suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe.
He scoffed. “I’m not gonna-”
“Please just get off of me.” You reared back, unsure of exactly what he meant to show you.
Your protests were silenced by the grip on your throat. Charles’ hand grabbed you, not hard enough to hurt you, but hard enough to show you that he could. You caught the baleful look in his eyes, and wondered where your charming fiance went.
“You’re really starting to irritate me, baby.” His voice was steady as he kept himself from shouting. “I can’t believe my sweet girl is being so ungrateful of all that I have to offer.”
“Charles please,” You couldn’t help the quiver in your voice. “I’m not trying to be ungrateful, I just got a little uncomfortable, that’s all.”
“Uncomfortable?” He snorted derisively. “Why, you think I’m gonna hurt you? You think I’m a monster, like that’s my idea of taking care of you?”
“No Charles, I-”
“Maybe you aren’t mature enough to be a wife yet.” He cut off your argument. “Or a mother for that matter. You can’t see how much I love you, how much I want you to be good.”
“I’m sorry, Charles.” Your eyes brimmed with tears. Maybe he was right; maybe you were too green. Maybe you didn’t deserve him. “I love you so much.” You choked out.
“I love you too, sweetheart.” Charles exhaled a long held breath as he palmed his heavy cock. “Tell me you love me again.” He commanded as he rubbed his cock against your lower lips.
“I love you, Charles.” You gasped as his shaft bumped against your clit. You could already feel your arousal accumulating between your legs.
“Oh, say it again, baby.” He moaned as he covered himself in your slick.
“I love you.” And you meant it. You would say it as many times as he’d like, so long as he wouldn’t be angry with you anymore.
“You are my sweet girl... always so precious.” He rested his forehead against yours as he continued to rock his hips. His hand was still wrapped around your neck. “You gonna let me take care of you?”
“Yes sir.” You knew the effect the title would have on him. You knew how to make him happy, how to get him to be sweet again. You just had to be good.
You felt his cock twitch against you and he reached down to finish himself off. He drew back slightly as he stroked himself, your arousal lubing him up nicely. Charles moaned as he found his release as he aimed at your womanhood. Hot spurts of his come covered your pussy as you were left wanting.
“Come here, baby.” Charles finally took his hand off your throat and lied down beside you. He ran his fingers through the mess he’d made of you before circling your clit.
“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, sweetheart.” He kissed your temple as he played with you. “I know you’re delicate, and I’d hate to think that I frightened you.”
You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing. You were shocked at how loving he could be one moment, and how brutal the next.
You buried your face in the crook of Charles’ neck as two fingers breached your needy hole. You moaned at the pleasure he gave you as his thumb pressed against your clit. His fingers worked you faster, in and out of you as your hips moved in tandem.
Suddenly you were throbbing around him, mewling against his shoulder as he brought you to the other side of your orgasm. He cradled you in his arms as he slipped his fingers out of you. He brought the wet digits to your mouth, and you obediently sucked off the mixture of your fluids.
That got you thinking about the fact that his come was in you.
“Charles?” You got his attention as soon as his fingers slipped past your lips. “What happens if I’m pregnant now?”
“It’s okay, honey.” His use of your mother’s nickname disturbed you. His wet fingers trailed down between your breasts to come to a rest over your stomach. “No one will notice if our baby’s born a couple weeks shy of nine months.”
Fifteen minutes //Neferpitou x fem!reader.
Request: Pitou falling in love with a human like Meruem, in slow burn, pretty please?
Warnings: dark themes, self blame, and mainly very toxic.
so, if you’re going to read this, please go watch cute videos of pets so you don’t lose faith in humanity and life :)
I’m back! I will start uploading alot just like before ;) and Requests are open!
I researched alot to make sure I don’t write the wrong information or the wrong pronouns. I wasn’t sure to write he or she, but I decided to use they and them to be safer for Pitou.
with that being said, I hope you like it! <3
The minute your foot stepped inside the castle, you knew something was wrong. You could feel it down your bones and it pounded with the beat of your heart. It reached down to your stomach as it did few flips.
Komugi hand pressed on your arm, she asked, “something’s wrong?”. You didn’t want to concern the girl, your duty was to be her caretaker, and planting the seed of fear into her heart won’t do any good. It was enough if you panicked by yourself.
A strange sort of creature with blonde hair, and a cape, approached you slowly. His eyes examining you both as if you were going to be the next dinner. “which one of you is the champion?”, He asked sharply, his words coming to aim an arrow to your heart, out of fear.
“That’s me, sir!”, Komugi responded idiotically as ever, clueless like forever. At that minute, you felt your whole life flash before your eyes. And your heart slowed down, was this death coming to fetch you?
The creature turned his head slowly to you, this was death for sure. The look on your mother’s face this morning was more than enough for you. Death, come take me, you bid farewell to your soul. Life wasn’t a delicacy to you, you suffered each day to earn a few copper coins to feed your ill mother.
“Sir! (y/n) is my caretaker! I’m blind and I’m unable to do simple things infants can do!”, Komugi was lying, she wasn’t able to see but she was able to function perfectly by herself. Did she feel the terror grow in your heart as well?
He let a curious hum as if he was thinking it through. Then, he let a knowing smirk. As if he knew your fate already. Your fate and Komugi’s fate. “I see,” he said. Inspecting the situation before him deeper, his eyes sinking lower and lower inside your mind. And at that second, at that moment, you knew, that he was aware of your fright.
“I’m Shaiapouf, I’m a part of the royal guard, I will be taking you to the king. My king and Your king, you shall bow when you stand by his presence!”, his last words were growing with rage, was this the fault of being a human? You internally cursed your existence and this universe.
He walked elegantly, proudly, as if he owned this world as if he didn’t fear anything or anyone. If this was only a royal guard, how was the king? Fear was absorbed into your system, you felt like you were growing a decade per second.
Through your journey to the mysterious king, you were met with different kinds of creatures. They could speak, and walk just like Shaiapouf. However, they were mutations of humans and other living things.
The heavy feeling on your heart was squeezing and getting heavier, heavier, and heavier. Until you felt your breath stop in your throat. You knew you were approaching the king. You kept your gaze to the floor, out of terror more than respect.
“They’re here, your highness,”.
After a few explanations to the king, you were able to live. He was too confident that he would win, truthfully, you did believe he would win. Your life was between Komugi’s hands. When the king ordered her to shut her mouth, she did that.
Which caused her to faint from the deprivation of oxygen, you gathered all your confidence. And shook her back to life, offering her a handkerchief to blow her nose. You weren’t aware your simple action got the attention of the kings and Shaiapouf.
As if they finally knew your importance, you sighed relief, your soul wasn’t grasped tightly in the hands of death. Rather it was loosely tied to it, in the condition that Komugi loses.
“Get rid of it,” the kind demanded, his eyes glancing with disgust at the tissue. You scattered from the floor as you stood up and rushed outside the hall. Looking for the nearest window to throw it away.
You were certain it was the terror in your heart that made you do this, it occupied your mind so much that you forgot to memorize the way back to the grand hall. And, now, you were lost in the fold of this great palace.
Your feet dragged you everywhere. However, secretly you were glad that you didn’t have to sit facing the king that filled your heart with fright. So, hoping the excuse that you were lost would save your soul once again.
But, seeing how Komugi needs your assistance, they would let you off the hook once again. You were sure of that.
Your small joy was cut short as another creature, with the same terrifying aura and hue like Shaiapouf approached you. It was a cat humanoid. You weren’t sure if you should trust it. “You must be the caretaker of the Gungi Champion?”, they asked, voice mimicking a cat.
You nodded, they narrowed their eyes at you, tail moving as if you were a prey ready to play. “I’m Neferpitou, Pitou in short” they introduced themselves. You looked at them, forcing the trait of courage into your body, “I’m (y/n),”, you introduced yourself.
“They don’t need you right now, but, I sense that you will be a good opponent,” Neferpitou said. Their tail wagging left and right faster. You were glad that Komugi's need for you allowed you to stay alive, however, you were certain that Neferpitou would to torture you. Make you wish you were dead.
You preferred death over torture. And that little kitten you raised next to your cottage, it gave you some knowledge about what interests cats and what they hate, Neferpitou was a feline after all. With that simple, childish, and foolish analysis, you took a leap of faith.
“How about we do something better?”, you suggested, crossing your arms to ensure you had the upper hand in this situation. Shockingly, it worked perfectly. As Neferpitou's tail moved slower; you gained their interest.
You explained, “you want a duel, but I think that’s boring, I wouldn’t even put 10% in it, how about we play a game that requires using your brain and speed?”, with the right amount of changing your tone to fit your words, Neferpitou was hooked around your finger with curiosity.
“All we need is a feather, if you managed to take the feather off the rope, we can duel if you wanted,” you finally finished, the idea of playing the feather and string game with a potential killer was sending alarms to your head. But, you had to do to spare your life from torture.
With Neferpitou's silence, you were certain the idea appealed to them. It was stupid, foolish, but it worked. “all we need is a feather, a long robe, and a stick,”, you told them. Neferpitou disappeared within a second from your view, you wondered again if it was a good idea.
They were fast, you weren’t sure about their intellect. But you were certain of your critical thinking skills, as it saved you many times before. Neferpitou appeared before you once again, with enthusiasm pounding into their body language, they suggested, “Should we go to the top and play there?!”.
You didn’t know what they meant by the top, but the idea of it made you anxious. Neferpitou was a flexible feline that could go anywhere, you were a mere human that won’t be able to reach, even if you did, you would fall and kill yourself.
Neferpitou was fast as expected, but they slowed down to match your pace. You both reached towards the destination, it wasn’t hard to pinpoint if this was the destination. Especially with the long poles sitting solely slightly far from the castle. They were going to set you on the roof and they will wait from the poles, smart.
“I can’t reach there!”, you stopped Pitou, fear filling your depth once again. “Hold on to me,” They offered. Trusting someone that could potentially kill you in a game that will determine your fate? Brilliant, that’s what you needed to your emotions right this moment.
Hesitantly, you held onto Neferpitou shoulders and wrapped your legs around their waist. Whatever happens, if you fell. You weren’t falling alone, you would drag them with you and crumble with them into hell.
You slightly wondered how you were sure you would end up in hell, but then you remembered how much you hated your miserable life. Why weren’t you able to see the world in a rose-tinted glass? You asked the universe more than once. The string of thoughts was cut as Pitou climbed swiftly to the roof.
The cold air tangling your hair and your clothes, it felt new and it made your abdomen swirl with butterflies. You lived way too long in the low ground, you concluded.
Pitou set you down on the roof, as they sat next to you, “Ground rules, no cheating! You can’t hold on the rope, you only try to catch the feather, if you do then you win,” you said quickly. Pitou took in your words. Finally standing up to march to the nearest pole.
With their back facing you, you were quick to shorten the robe under your palm, you weren’t going to lose. You had to cheat, your life depended on it. And it was the first time in your life you didn’t feel guilty about cheating.
After long thirty minutes, Pitou didn’t manage to even touch the feather. Only chasing it as it flew around. Being on top was a drawback for them. As they had to go towards the poles near the roof. Again, your life depended on it and you didn’t feel a single drop of guilt about it.
Both of you stared at Shaiapouf that approached you, with his sparkling butterfly wings. They did look beautiful, and he did look pretty. But not as Pitou, an odd thought flowed into your system. But you didn’t deny their beauty.
“What?”, the cat-humanoid whined. From the tail that was moving uneasily, you could tell they were irritated. “How dare you play in this crucial time?! Did you forget we’re the servants of the mighty king?! The king of ALL?!”, he shouted, his arms moving enthusiastically with him.
“Fun-killer,” Pitou booed childishly, you hid the smile under your sleeve. Pitou noticed your reaction, and as if encouraged more, “The king didn’t even call for me! And, it’s Youpi turn to guard,” they protested.
Pouf looked surprised at this, he glanced at you. Giving you a nasty look, measuring you up and down, “what were you doing with this mere human?”.
Pitou hopped from the roof to the nearest pole to talk to him, “The king is playing with a human, and I’m playing with a human,”, this was all you heard from Pitou’s words.
Pouf ruined your small game, that you were continuously winning at. And Komugi seemed to win as well, as your lives were spared for the next day.
The next morning, you sat next to Komugi, making sure she was comfortable and her nose wasn’t stuffed. Again, you went to get rid of the fabric, this time memorizing the way a bit clearer. However, you met Neferpitou waiting for you next to the gates.
They grinned, with the movements of the tail, you knew they wanted to play again. And you agreed instantly, you would win for sure. Pitou took you to the same place, this time the sun was up, hiding behind a swarm of clouds.
You liked it, being closer to the sky felt better than looking at it from below. It was enough that your life didn’t mean that much in this world. Once, twice, three times, you won.
“Can we take a break?!”, you shouted to Pitou after you retreated the robe towards you, gathering it’s length closer to you. Pitou whined, “Why?!”.
“We have been playing for two hours now, my arms hurt me from flicking the heavy stick, we will play again in two minutes,” you explained, promising in the last part. Pitou marched to sit next to you.
In the meantime, the two of you kept looking at each other with curiosity. Both thinking the same thought, how was this creature made?
However, Pitou was braver, their hand coming to touch your hand. “Why do you have five fingers?”, they asked. Your eyes looked at their hand, they had four fingers. “I’m not sure…well, why do you have four fingers?”, you countered.
They shrugged their shoulders, silence flowed between you. The theory in your mind made you wonder if Pitou truly was a feline, they must love petting. “I had a cat back home, he liked it when I pet him here,” you pointed at your head.
Pitou gave you an odd look, before offering playfully, “Try!”, they lowered their head for you. Hesitantly, you touched their head with your fingertips. Gently spreading your hand to scratch behind their ear.
Pitou instantly laid on your legs. This was universal, you concluded. The purrs that Pitou let made you certain that all cats loved being pet, whether it was an actual cat or a cat-humanoid. The two-minute break turned into a three and it kept on increasing.
Secretly, you weren’t complaining. You tilted your head to look at Pitou, wondering if they were sleeping or not. Their bright red irises stared back at you, with slight surprise you said, “I thought you were sleeping,”.
Your hand stopping from petting them, assuming they have grown tired from it and wanted to resume playing. Shockingly, Pitou hand came to place yours on their head, “Do it again,”, they said. You pet them again. The thought of Komugi came to your mind, you had to go check on her.
With that, you stopped again and said, “I have to go check on Komugi,”. Neferpitou whined, “Is Komugi your priority or me?!”. You frowned as you answered sincerely, “Komugi, of course. Just like how the king is your priority,”.
“When will you be back?”, Pitou asked.
Standing up and resolving to jump from the roof to the balcony, it was a short distance and you would reach it safely. “in an hour, I promise,” you said.
Two days passed, while Komugi spent them playing Gungi with the king and defeating him, you spent those two days looking after her and spending time with a certain cat-humanoid.
Neferpitou was adorably clingy, when the two of you would play your game, every five minutes they would ask if you wanted a break. So, you could pet them. In the last hour of playing, as the darkness enveloped the sky. You two decided to stop playing and you would pet them just like how they liked.
And, you would tell them stories from your hometown. About your cottage isolated from the village, and that you lived with your ill mother. Pitou truly loved hearing you talk about your older days, and they would listen attentively.
You were aware of the flutter in your abdomen each time the two of you were together, and you were aware that you looked forward to meeting them each minute you weren’t with them. It worried you deeply, you tried to blame yourself that it was only because Pitou was the only soul that paid attention to you, listened to you and cared for you.
This was silly and foolish, how could you be excited to meet a creature that was a whole another species from you? You blamed yourself every time you grinned uncontrollably with them.
Other than that, you weren’t stupid. You could tell that Shaiapouf despised you and Komugi, especially since the king had neglected his duties to win at a game that a human won each time.
Pouf always stuck himself between you and Pitou, each time the two of you were laughing about something, you would see him fly towards you both at the roof. And order you to do something.
His hatred reached the peak that night when he sent a hawk to attack Komugi, “Komugi, we should scream for help, should I get Pitou to help us? They would, please let me call someone”, you pleaded the stubborn girl, as she tried to avoid the hawk sharp peak. “Don’t, we will be a burden towards them,” Komugi said.
When you threw a pillow towards the hawk, it left Komugi's head alone, you sighed in relief before it stopped in your throat. The hawk flew towards you, nipping into your scalp. “(y/n)? did it go? No way, I can hear it!”, Komugi said, her arms flailing around to grasp into anything. To make sure you were unharmed.
The hawk continued to drill into your scalp, blood trickled down your forehead. And, at that time, you were sure that this only happened because you were a mere extra in this life.
The bedroom door flunked to the back, the king appeared behind it. Wrath in his eyes as he looked around the room. “Who is it?!”, Komugi yelped. Pitou appeared behind the king, their eyes resting at you.
The king marched towards Komugi, this was the green light for Pitou to come to you. The hawk left the scene instantly. You looked at Pitou that kneeled towards your level, “Doctor Blythe,” they called. You knew this was the Nen ability that heals.
“What happened?”, Neferpitou whispered to you. Shaking your head, you didn’t have any power to respond.
“Pitou, heal Komugi first,” the king ordered.
The cat-humanoid looked anxious, “Pitou!”, the king screamed at them. “wait fifteen minutes, I will come back to you,” Pitou told you.
This was the only memory you could think of at this moment. With the Palace destroyed. Nen arrows flunked deep inside Komugi's stomach, you were too late to help her. Too late to do anything, too slow to move when that arrow aimed at you.
Was this the end? You asked your self.
Everything was happening so fast, the king holding Komugi's unconscious body. Two old men appeared behind the king, waiting patiently.
Everything was happening so fast when the king asked Pitou to heal Komugi first. “wait fifteen minutes, I will come back to you,” Pitou cried to you, pushing the hair away from your face. You knew you wouldn’t be able to wait for fifteen minutes.
Orders were orders, Pitou was healing Komugi. Their watery eyes looking at you with concern and anxiety. This was the end, you were to die in this palace.
You were to die here, in the folds of this palace. To marinate in your sorrow and tears that you will never be someone’s top priority. This was the end. You told yourself.
“(y/n)! please don’t close your eyes! Look at me!”, Pitou sobbed.
What are these tears? Tears of agony that they won’t be able to see you live?
You didn’t want to live anyways, but it was depressing that you had to say goodbye to this world with negative thoughts. With a dark heart that pounded into you that you won’t be remembered.
“wait fifteen minutes!”, you heard Pitou voice cry to you.
Yet, you already closed your eyes and saw the darkness envelope your world.
Insomnia (Bryce Lahela x F!MC)
Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F! MC (Eleanor Bloom)
Warnings: N.S.F.W. Cursing.
Prompt: Day 7. Booty Call | Sex Toys | Nipple Play (Sorrry I’m late!!!!)
A/N: Hello! Welcome to my second fic for Kinktober! It’s a lot more simplier than the first, because I had a lot of breakdowns writing it, probably because all the smut I have written between them has been kinda passionate, and here they are just horny 😂 but I decided to post it anyway.
I hope you enjoy it!
Eleanor woke up like she had slept ten hours, but it was too dark to be time to get up. She grabbed her phone from her nightstand and checked the time. 01.27 am. She sighed in frustration as she had four more hours to sleep. She locked the screen and closed her eyes trying to get back to sleep.
Five minutes after tossing and turning, she took her phone again and opened Pictragram. After a few minutes scrolling, she saw Bryce had liked a photo of a mutual account that was uploaded just a few minutes ago, so she went straight to his chat and typed:
Ellie 🌻: “Hey, why you up so late? 👀”
Bryce L. 👨🏽⚕️: “Back at you”
Ellie 🌻: “Can’t sleep. You?”
Bryce L. 👨🏽⚕️: “I have the best cure for sleep deprivation.”
Ellie 🌻: “Oh, yeah?”
Bryce L. 👨🏽⚕️: “Magic hands🤟🏽”
Ellie 🌻: “Where are you?”
Bryce L. 👨🏽⚕️: “At home”
Ellie 🌻: “Can I come over? 😏”
Bryce L. 👨🏽⚕️: “I was hoping you would say that 🤭”
Ellie 🌻: “I’ll be in twenty.”
She replied before getting up from her bed and take a quick shower.
Once she was back in her room, she took the bag with the lingerie she had shopped that afternoon on her trip to the mall with Sienna. She looked at the three lacey lingerie sets, trying to choose a color: navy blue, emerald green, and garnet red. She discarded the first one because she wasn’t really feeling the blue vibes that night, and the last one because even if she was already excited about meeting up with Bryce, that wasn’t an occasion to wear red, so she took the emerald lacey lingerie and put it on.
She looked at the mirror really pleased with herself. The color looked fantastic in her bronze skin, and it made her realize what was the perfect dress to complement her sexy attire for the night. A long blue floral wrap dress with a slit in the middle of her right thigh. It exposed the lacey in her cleavage the right amount and fitted so perfectly around her body, that it made her waist look thinner than it was.
Once all dressed up, she applied a bit of makeup, just red lipstick, and mascara, and then she requested a uber, which arrived in a few minutes.
Ellie 🌻: “On my way 👄”—She texted him from the car.
Bryce L. 👨🏽⚕️: “Finally 🥵”
After a ten-minute ride, she knocked on the door of his apartment with the anticipation about to come out of her mouth. She had been stressed for days since Dr. Ramsey had elected her as the number one in the competition for the Junior Fellow position, and a good bang was the only thing that could ease her from the frustration she had been feeling since that day.
“Hey”—Bryce greeted as he opened the door, grinning broadly at the very sight of her. He was wearing a blue and pink Hawaiian shirt and dark blue jeans. —"I didn’t see you today”
“I had 24 hours shift yesterday”—She replied getting inside.
“Oh, that explains a lot.”
“You missed me?”—She murmured in a sultry voice, leaning close to see him directly in his amber eyes.
Eleanor discarded her purse on the entry table at one side of the door.
“You were hoping you would find me scrolling at this time of the night, mmh?”
Bryce looked down her body. She was wearing a black leather jacket and under that, the reason his bulge grew painfully under his pants, making him groan.
Eleanor, completely aroused by the way he was inspecting her body, kissed him hard and wet. He pulled the jacket out in response, tossing it on the floor, and embraced her by the small of her back, his warm hands roaming over the fabric of her dress.
Her perfume intoxicated him all of a sudden. The musk, vanilla, and popcorn reached him like a hurricane of sensations that forced him to go down her neck and chest and obtain every bit of her smell and drink every inch of her sweetened skin, like a craving man.
“You smell so good, Elle”—He sighed.
Then, Eleanor took his hand and brought it to the tie of her dress, inviting him to undo it.
Bryce gave her an intense look, gulping at the very thought of what he would find under the fabric of her dress. She smirked, raising a brow at his hesitation… or contemplation? After a few moments, he pulled the tie down and the fabric slowly began to slide to each side of her body, exposing the emerald lingerie.
“Holy shit” —He breathed, chewing his lower lip as he roamed his eyes over the lacey and sating lingerie perfectly framing the curves of her waist, hips, and thighs.
“Like what you see?”
Bryce slid his hands over her shoulders, throwing her dress to the floor, leaving her body now only adorned with her lacey underwear.
“Like is an understatement.”
“I am not always?”
His soft hands traveled over her generous cleavage, and then he placed them over her breast, cupping them perfectly, earning a shiver and a whimper from her mouth.
“If this is my reward for every day I don’t have the chance to see you…”—She stopped him mid-sentence kissing him again and pushing him toward the wall, a sharp sigh coming out of his throat. He looked down at her unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his taut muscles with every button undone until she tugged it down to the floor, impatiently.
The moment his skin was exposed, she brought her lips to his collarbone, and went down to his chest, massaging his pecs with both hands and kissing him all over his skin. The firmness of his muscles turned her on even more, imagining his arms picking her up, her legs around his waist, his bulge pressing her core, his hands touching every sensitive spot of her body just as she liked.
Her folds were growing swollen between her legs, sensing how close she was to feel him inside of her again. His hands roamed her back until he reached her bum, taking it with both hands before sliding both under her underwear, now gripping it tightly.
Eleanor in the meantime started unfastening his pants, and Bryce growled against her mouth when she sank her hand under his boxers, and stroke his throbbing dick waiting for some kind of relief.
He slid his hand up, unclasping her bra, bending down to suck her nipples. Eleanor breathed heavily at the pleasant sensation of his soft hands and his hot breath against her sensitive skin, making her moan when his tongue started to lick her hard nipples.
After a few moments, she pulled his silky brown hair to make him face her. Bryce looked at her agape and confused, her lips plumped and wet.
“Fuck me. Fuck me now”—She demanded, almost out of breath.
“Fuck, yes, of course”
Eleanor took a step closer to the entry table, opened her purse, and grabbed a condom out of a box, and handed it to Bryce.
He received the condom and opened the wrapper instantly, while she was pulling out her panties. Once completely naked, she leaned against the table, lifting her butt so Bryce could take her from behind.
She felt his pulsing cock between her butt cheeks, and his hand gripping her hips. Then, one hand roamed towards her folds, checking how lubed she was before entering her.
“Holy shit, you’re almost dripping down there”
“That’s for you.”—She sighed—"Now, please.”
Bryce pushed himself against her in one swift and precise movement, stealing a yelp from her. He moved slowly at first, feeling her folds enveloping him, breathing in when he was entering, breathing out when he pulled out of her until he began to take speed gradually.
Bryce obeyed and started to move against her at a quick speed, the flesh colliding, his hands gripping in ass firmly.
“Yes… Come on.”
“You want harder?”
“Please”—She begged in a tiny voice, and she felt how Bryce buried his finger on her skin, almost pinching it as his thrusts reached a senseless speed.
Eleanor cried out the moment he picked up the speed she desired.
“Shit, Elle, you feel so fucking good”
“Fuck yes, keep it going, Bryce.”
Bryce focused on trying to delay his orgasm, but it was difficult with the speed and how much he loved hearing Eleanor crying out his name.
He took her by the shoulder and pressed her body to his, still rocking against her, but at a slow pace. His arms encircled her body, touching her breast with one hand, and fingering her clit the other.
“Oh god, fuck”
“You like it?”
“Please don’t stop”—Her begging whimper drove him crazy.
His fingers picked up speed until he heard her squealing in his ear as she arched her back against him, leaning the nape of her neck on his shoulder. Her legs were trembling and her moans erratic. Without waiting, he pushed her against the table, this time to thrust her until reaching his peak of pleasure and her second. Their bodies crashing invaded the room with obscene echoes, denoting the impossible pace he had picked up. Eleanor was out of breath, her raspy voice barely a groaning, her pleasure losing in her throat.
“You’re fucking amazing, yes. —She whispered until she found the last drop of energy to cry out the moment she reached her second climax.
Bryce kept moving until he let himself release, cumming inside her with a deep groan.
He leaned over her warm and sweaty back, while Eleanor was completely motionless over the table, gasping for air. After a few moments, he took her hand and drew her to the couch, where both laid with legs intertwined, her head resting over his chest, and Bryce wrapping her with her strong arms.
Even if the orgasm had killed a great part of her tension, the feeling of his warmth and skin against her seemed to do the rest.
“How’s that insomnia?”
“Worse, I can’t go to sleep if I know I can be fucked again the same way.”
“Better would mean not be able to walk tomorrow, and I’m not sure if I want that. Besides, you would mess with me for a week for that.”
“No way, a month, at least. And it wouldn’t be because I wanna mess with you, but because I want you to remember how good I did you tonight. Can you blame me?"
"Not at all. And you, ready to go to sleep?”
"Hell no, I didn't make you come over here just for one round."
“Good, because I know exactly what I want for the second round.”
Taglist: @romewritingshop @utterlyinevitable @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @kiteplayschoices @lahamseiroshoe @lucas-koh @fuseboxmusebox @princesslahela @mckenzie-bae @choicesficwriterscreations @lucy-268 @interobanginyourmom
Let me know if oyu wanna be added or removed from my Kinktober taglist!
The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 12: Final Home Exercise Program
Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Dawson)
Summary: Our lovers spend one last night together and the next morning have a serious discussion about their future after more new information comes to light about Sy’s upcoming training. Can the new relationship sustain the stress? Are Shane’s feelings justified, or can they overcome what lies before them?
Spoilers suck! Start from the top or wherever you left off HERE!
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: Language, mature themes, smut, angst…well, near angst. As angsty as I get.
Author’s Note: Sorry this has taken so long, my darling dears! I’m currently on vacation and although I was hoping to be inspired by new surroundings, it’s given me WICKED writer’s block! I have a pretty solid plan for more chapters, though, so, buckle up!
Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.
@misslaland (apparently deactivated, idk what’s up with that)
Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)
Sy's last two PT appointments could not have gone better. On paper, anyway. He was at full strength in his injured knee, his range of motion was better than it was in the so-called good knee, and he hadn't complained of pain above a 2/10 in the last five sessions. He'd even been using the treadmill properly the last two weeks, working up to his own goal of running again. Her goals for him were met…they could have probably stopped a session short, but she'd wanted to give him a few more handouts to finalize his HEP…and well, she'd be in major trouble for saying so, but…she couldn't stand the thought of cancelling that last visit. It felt like quitting, even though it would have been justified.
In practice, however, there was a tension between them that had never existed before. Something creating awkward energy that they couldn't seem to shake. They hadn't seen each other much outside of therapy this week, either. Not since the night of their argument. Sy had to do a lot of prep for his trip to Virginia, and Shane's caseload this week had been ridiculous. Dozens of evaluations and updates and calls to various companies on different kinds of splints and orthotics she was hoping to get for a few of her patients. A lot of time spent on the phone meant a lot of after-hours documentation. She needed a break. Even if it meant she'd have to do some work over the weekend. Sy was leaving tomorrow to get settled in Charlottesville before the big training course began. She didn't want them to be apart on his last night home for a month.
"Hey, as a celebration of your discharge from PT and your new career trajectory, how about dinner on me tonight?"
"But…you don't really want me to leave town…or to be done with therapy. Not that I, myself, won't miss you feeling me up in public." he smirked as she took his last set of range of motion measurements, her hands gently holding one arm of her goniometer to the side of his thigh…suddenly too aware of him.
"Not entirely true. I'm glad you're better, I'll just miss seeing you through the day. It breaks up the…" she sighed "the monotony of my daily life. Also, why would I want you to leave town? What would that say about me as your girlfriend?" she explained.
"S'pose you're right."
"In this case, yes. Yes I am." She winked at him.
They finished up and she gave him a few more exercises to keep in his arsenal to maintain strength and range in both knees.
"Okay, now, I won't be around to harass you about these, but keep doing them regularly, and just modify them as I've notated if they get too easy. Try to just do more reps, though. I wouldn't try to bulk it up just yet, and that's what you'll do with more weight added."
"Yes, ma'am." he said for old time's sake. She shook her head and smirked.
"And listen, please. This is your physical therapist talking right now. Be careful and mindful during … your cross country training." she wanted to call it "Survivor-Virginia," but refrained. She knew it would get his hackles up. And she was taking enough of a chance insisting that he be careful. "Nature has perils for the perfectly fit. The already injured are at a disadvantage from the gate. Mind your footing. And try not to run unless you have to. Uneven surfaces are not your friend just yet. You still need to work up to that. If you want, I'll help you with it when you get back. Just…don't undo all this work we've done together."
He seemed to see his woman peeking out from behind the mask of his therapist. Concern coloring the neutral and clinical advice she was giving him.
"I'll do my best, sunshine." he held her by the arms and kissed her forehead. It felt too intimate for the setting, but they had done worse. "I'll see ya tonight then?"
"Yeah, I'll bring some food by your place after work. What do you want?"
"Hmmm…I'll let you know." he kissed her cheek and left.
The next hour was her lunch, so she had time to contemplate what seeing him walk out for the last time had made her feel. She sighed, and started to well up, getting out her lunch bag to begin eating and documenting when a knock came at the door frame.
It was Sy, looking forlorn and manic and altogether a mess. Very unlike himself.
"I got out to the truck and something just felt wrong about the way I left today. As if it was any other day. Not our last session. You were trying to get that to land…I'm a little slow. But I finally got it." he walked to her, grabbing her up from her chair in a hug that mended all of the broken parts of her. Squeezed her back together when she'd been damn near falling apart. "Shane, you…you did more than just make me better. You've…made me better. Happier. Whole. I'll never be able to thank you properly for all of this, but…I intend to try for as long as you'll let me."
He held her while her tears fell softly onto his Def Leppard shirt. This was what she needed. For him to simply hold her, complete her, love her.
"Also, I think I'd like Chinese food tonight." she laughed into his neck.
"You still like me."
"I do. And you don't need to worry about thanking me, Sy. You return the favor daily by just…being you…and being mine." She pulled him in to a ferociously sexy kiss, her hands in his hair, still too short for her liking, but getting there.
He broke away, neither wanting it to end, but both knowing it must, all the same.
"I thought we couldn't do this at your work?" he inquired, slightly out of breath.
"We couldn't do this while you were a patient. You're officially discharged. Last appointment over. All I have to do is sign your note and it's a done deal. But now…if you wanted to drop by for lunch sometime when you get back from training for your fancy job…we could…make it a regular occurrence." she smiled up into his entrancing blue eyes, sparkling with promise.
"I like the sound of that, sunshine." he gave her one more chaste kiss before his official goodbye. "See ya tonight."
As she watched him leave, she remembered thinking to herself one day how he probably used to take very confident strides…that hardly did his walk justice.
She ordered their favorites, four entrees total, so they had options, crab rangoon, egg rolls, dumplings, the works. She would be happy to eat off the leftovers all weekend. She wasn't fussy. She loved leftover Chinese takeout.
He met her at the door, having advance warning of her arrival from the canine burglar alarm, Aika.
"You got her. Good girl." he said sweetly thanking the pup for sounding off the Twilight Bark throughout the neighborhood.
"Hello!" She handed off the food to Sy and scratched at the German Shepherd's ears the way she liked, her tail wagging with joyous speed.
"I thought we could set up a buffet on the coffee table downstairs while we watch TV?"
"Sounds great!" She said, with an enthusiasm that sounded almost forced. She wasn't able to fully shake this foreboding she felt saying goodbye to him, no matter how long they'd be apart.
Sy grabbed plates and silverware while Shane got them some beverages, and they headed downstairs, Aika knowing her boundaries did not extend to the basement except by invitation, whined at their descent. Sy wasn't having it.
"Oh, don't give us that sob story, ya brat." he rolled his eyes at Shane.
"Aww, can't she come down with us?"
"No way. I want you all to myself." a devilish smirk twitched up the corners of his mouth making him even more handsome.
"Aika has nothin' on you. You're the real dog." she teased.
"I make no excuses or arguments. I'm gonna be selfish with you tonight." they put the food and supplies on the coffee table and he caught her up into his arms. He seemed to want to inhale her into his lungs.
"Mmmm, as endearing as I've always found generosity, I really like the sound of that." She let out a huff of amusement.
They spent an uncharacteristically short amount of time choosing something to watch. They'd already started a miniseries together, and they wanted to finish it before Sy left. It was a British political thriller with a lot of intrigue and quite a bit of sex. They only had two hours left, so they finished it quickly as they ate.
They decided to put on something familiar afterward. Die Hard. Which they both quoted with ridiculous precision. They were cuddled into each other on the big sectional, lulled into comfort by the familiar security of the dialogue and the warmth of the other.
Soon, Sy's hand found its way to Shane's thigh. It inched its way inside and up. She felt like he could hear her heart rate quicken, just as she knew he could hear her breaths come with more effort due to his touch.
She looked at him, and despite her apprehension about his decision to leave her so early in their relationship, she wanted him. She'd known for so long now. It felt like forever, for longer than they'd even known one another. A ridiculous notion. But with that same gaze, she begged him to continue. The signal was not lost on the captain. His mouth punished hers in a kiss so deliciously violent and needy she thought there was no way he couldn't feel the same for her. She pushed to the back of her busy mind all of the negative emotions the kiss brought up, the confusion as to how and why he was going to leave her when he clearly needed her just as badly as she needed him, and just let this beautiful moment become what it would.
As hard as that was to do.
The way he touched her was a pretty effective distraction. One hand held her firmly against his mouth by the nape while the other built friction in her over her jeans. She felt her body's primal responses of the building pressure and her hands gripping at his shirt. His guttural moan at her answering touch only fueled the inferno in her. She needed more of him. She thrust up into his hand wantonly. He took himself away from her, cruelly, but to be so very kind, she would soon see. He undid her jeans and tugged them down, along with her panties. In the process, he repositioned her conveniently at the edge of the sofa. He scooted the coffee table out of the way enough to kneel before her. He tortured her with kisses from her knee up her inner thigh on both sides before continuing those kisses where she really needed them.
His warm breath hit her first and she arched, aching in anticipation for the corporeal. He looked up at her with his dervish's grin, seeing the desire on her face and feeling it course through her body, and although he was a better man than her previous lovers, and a better man than most, no man was so good that making his woman feel like this didn't make him feel like a god.
"Darlin', you're so gorgeous like this." he said as he teased her with his mouth. Her words failed. She had only unintelligible syllables for him. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed thoroughly amused by her speechlessness. Amused and encouraged. She'd never felt like this before. His lips and tongue worked over her trembling flesh, both as familiar paths and brand new territory. Discovering the new and remembering the familiar, all at once.
"Sy." she whispered, so close to her peak, and needing him to continue, but unable to do more than moan his name.
"I know, sugar. I know it won't be long. Whenever you're ready, sweetheart."
And she fell apart under his expert touch. He soothed her body down from the climax and asked her if she was ready for bed.
"I think not!" she replied. "The movie isn't over." and she pulled him up to her by the cheeks into another crushing kiss and guided him to the couch. She kicked her bottoms off her ankles to avoid tripping and repositioned herself between his legs as he'd done with her.
"You don't have to, sunshine." he caressed her jaw.
"I know, babe. I want to. Let me do this for you." He was always eager to taste her but she'd yet to return the favor at his own request. She was done letting him decline. She didn't want him leaving without giving him this small parting gift.
It wasn't as if she was unfamiliar with how big he was. She'd touched him, and had him inside her…but seeing him this close was different. She fully appreciated what a feat it was to take him.
She started in with her own tricks, which made him moan, just as planned. His hands laced gently and lovingly in her hair as she worked her mouth and hands over him. She looked up at him after a few moments to gauge his reaction and couldn't have been more pleased. His expression was one of pure, tortured bliss. She felt so powerful.
"Angel, I'm not gonna last much longer." she took that as her cue to get on top of him.
She joined their bodies with a groan of ecstasy that he echoed. She gripped his shoulders as she moved against him, slow and measured at first, but becoming more frantic and erratic as she chased her climax. One hand remaining on her hip, the other came to her chin and directed her gaze to him. Her eyes, blazing with desire, met his, full of tears. She fell against his lips, as she climbed higher, needing that final push to send her over. Which it did, tumbling into that familiar bliss, that she'd have to savor for…well, too long. She didn't want to think too hard about that. This would be their last night together for several weeks. And she wanted to make the most of it. She looked at him, nodded, and after a few more thrusts, he came to his own pinnacle with a shudder beneath her, clutching at her back, resting his head on her sternum. She held him there, and took a few cleansing breaths with her own cheek pressed against his lengthening hair. She stroked the ones at the back of his neck for a moment as they came down from their impossible high.
"Shall we continue this upstairs?" she asked as the cheery, festive, and entirely out-of-season notes of "Let It Snow" played on the TV with the rolling credits of Die Hard. He grinned.
"Yeah, if I still have bones in my legs." he kissed her neck, just above the collar of her tee. "And I'll come down later and clear all this up. We'll just have to close the door so Aika doesn't come down and have herself a party. She's a good dog, but I'm not about to tempt her."
Shane carefully slid off of Sy's lap, attempting not to make too much of a mess, grabbed her panties and slipped them on for the walk to Sy's room.
The musical chiming of Sy's phone alarm came too damned early. They'd barely slept, not wanting to waste a moment together. When they finally nodded off after their last round of fervent love-making, they wrapped themselves around one another and were both out like lights in no time. Now he was untangling himself from her to turn the noise off and presumably begin the process of getting ready to leave for the airport. He only snoozed it, though, and pulled her more tightly against his bare, hairy chest.
"What time is it?" She asked, bleary from lack of sleep and extreme fatigue. Not that she was complaining.
"Seven. But my flight doesn't leave until 10, and it's just from the base. There's a flight leaving there for Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport and I'm hitchin' a ride with them."
"Oh good. I had anticipated we'd have to drive to Springfield, or even St. Louis this morning." She would do it for Sy, of course, but she wasn't looking forward to a six hour minimum round trip, half of which she would have to make alone.
"Nah, and I'm hoping to work something out for the return trip, too, but I'll let you know about that, then. I've made those open ended, though, because I don't know about the return date."
"Sure. God, that's so…crazy. Not in a bad way, just, I can't imagine leaving home without a clear plan on when I'd be back. Of course, knowing it won't be more than a month helps, I guess."
"And really, a part of me has dreamed of living a sort of nomadic existence since I was very young, so I definitely see the romance in it."
"Totally agree. Hey, I'm hungry. How about we get ready and I'll buy ya breakfast?" He seemed evasive, but she was hungry, too, so she let it go.
They got up and showered together, keeping the sexy time to a minimum given the current time constraints they'd now placed upon themselves. If they didn't hurry, they'd never get out of Cracker Barrell in time to get him to the base.
He loaded his bag in her cargo space and they headed off to the restaurant, which was hopping with traffic on a Saturday morning, as was expected. But since there were only two of them, they got a table without waiting.
They ordered coffees, and Cokes, not super healthy, but hey, this wasn't a daily occurrence. It was a splurge.
Sy ordered some massive and meaty breakfast spread that sounded like a heart attack waiting to happen, while Shane kept it simple with biscuits and gravy and a side of fruit…also, she stole a strip of Sy's bacon. Again…she was a weak woman.
The conversation was light and friendly and lovey…until the time came to leave. Sy picked up the check and took it to the counter to pay and then led her out the double doors back to her vehicle.
"You'll be able to FaceTime me on evenings you haven't gone walkabout in the wilderness, right?"
"I'm not sure they call it that outside of Australia, or even the Crocodile Dundee movies, but yeah, we'll plan on that, for sure."
"Good. I'll miss you so much. But at least I have a pretty good idea of when you'll be back." she was spouting excitedly, but he was being rather cagey again. He piped up with three words that never start off a good sentence.
"Yeah, about that…" she looked at him as they closed the doors to her Explorer, waiting for him to continue…hoping for good news, but expecting bad.
"I got an email last night…late…that I…that the training…might take longer than they told me at first." he winced for the impact of her reception of the anticipated bad news.
"Longer…uh-huh. How much longer?" she asked, backing out of her parking space.
"Ya know if you back into these spaces you don't have to worry about--"
"Really? This is the moment you want to man-splain the concepts of parking to me, Sy? I'll save you the trouble. My dad couldn't get me to do it, and I don't see you having any success, either. Now, how much longer?"
"I don't…they didn't give a concrete--"
"Give me your best guess based on what you know. Give me a range. A ballpark, if you will."
"Uhh…two or three more…weeks…than planned." he winced as she drove toward Fort Leonard Wood Army Base from the peaceful breakfast joint. It was rather poetic, really, since the conversation had turned from relaxed to militant. And they were driving from civilian territory into a land of combatants. Not a war zone, but a zone of warriors, perhaps. And she was ready for battle, herself.
"Sy. That's more than six weeks."
"I know." he said, his eyes downcast in some combination of shame, fear, and sadness.
"And you're…fine with it?" she prodded, prompting him to consider her.
"Of course I don't like it. I'm gonna hate being away from my sunshine for even a week. But this is…it's about who I am. Who I'm meant to be from now on. I have to find my way from here, Shane."
"I guess my only question is…where do I fit into this…path. This life you're making for yourself? We're brand new. But we've worked really hard already to get where we are. And I've worked really hard to get to where I am, professionally. In my dream job. No, the circumstances aren't ideal, but the work makes me think, and gives me purpose. What am I suppose to do? Either I give that up, or I give up…the only man I've ever been with who's made me actually happy."
"I don't want that. I don't want to lose you, and I don't want you to give anything up for me, darlin.' That'll just lead to you resentin' me down the road, and I don't want that, neither." He stopped a moment and just looked at her, face holding back frustrated and angry tears…but also very sad ones. "What about this? Let's just, talk about all this moving forward stuff when I'm back from training. At that point, I'll know more about what to expect about jobs and assignments. And…if it would make you feel more comfortable…we can call ourselves…unexclusive. That way, if you meet someone while I'm gone--"
"Have you lost your mind?" She interrupted his ridiculous attempt to be selfless. She was secure enough in his feelings for her that he wasn't making the suggestion for himself.
"I'm serious. If you meet someone, and he sweeps you off your feet, don't resist. I want you to be happy, Shane."
"Then come back and teach gym at the local high school. Better yet, don't go, at all."
"You remember all that stuff you said about having your dream job and a purpose?" Shane nodded. "You want me to find all that too, don'tcha?"
"No. I'm a selfish bitch who wants you here with me no matter the cost. And I don't care if you resent me in the long run. At least I'll have you." she laughed at her sarcasm and only slightly true self-deprecation.
"You'll be fine. You managed so far without me." he reminded her as she pulled up to the gate, guarded by about four men, who's rank she couldn't tell, but one of whom Sy called a sergeant.
"I'll get out here and they'll take me to the hangar in a cart. No civilian vehicles allowed today. Apparently they're doing maneuvers." he shrugged and got out to grab his bag.
"I put the rest of the takeout in here too. It's in one of my nice coolers on ice."
"Thanks." she told her shoes as they stood under the shade of her rear access hatch. She couldn't look at him right now. He made her, though.
"This ain't quite like the airport, but I still don't have a lot of time, sunshine." he kissed her hard, and it really felt like a goodbye, which almost hurt more than his leaving. Almost. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and she knew she'd feel that embrace all evening. She hoped it would last for weeks.
"I love you, Sy." she sobbed to him. Trying like hell to keep it together.
"I love you, darlin.' Now don't you forget that when some other handsome fella gives you the eye. Make sure he's worth it, if you're gonna write me a dear john letter." he winked at her. She laughed and nodded, but didn't feel it was that funny, and didn't intend to adhere to his parameters of their relationship. He ducked under the arm that was preventing her from driving through. Although, legs as long as his, he almost could have stepped over it. She watched him walk away for as long as she could before she was given the signal that she must leave and let other traffic through…although, she resented this. There were two lanes, after all. Couldn't these men see what a mess she was? She'd just had to say goodbye to the love of her life…and she didn't know when…or indeed, if…she'd see him again. She had hope…but that didn't stop her from crying all the way home and the rest of the afternoon as the ghost of Sy's parting hug faded from her skin.
Up Next: Chapter 13: SNAFU
Care For Me (Steve Rogers au) SugarDaddy!Steve
An alternative universe where Steve isn’t an Avenger, but rather a CEO of one of the biggest companies in the US. His best friend and business partner Bucky secretly made him an account in an online dating site for sugar daddies and sugar babies, setting Steve up on a date with the only suitable sugar baby he thought was best for his best friend among the million others in his inbox.
It’s you. You’re the sugar baby.
Where reader is a med student who is badly in need of financial support and resorted to desperate measures by signing up to an online dating site with a little help from reader’s best friend, Nat.
Contains: natasha x reader moment (but platonic!)
A/N: thank you guys for the great reviews on the prologue! I hope you’ll enjoy this one as well! Tags are still open! x
Ps. I’m sorry it took so long for me to update, I’ve been really busy for finals and now that everything’s been put on hold, I can finally focus on this story!
Stay safe you guys! ❤️
“Thanks again for the help, Nat. I’d probably be in the streets by now if you weren’t around.” You thanked before bringing your mug of hot tea to your salty lips. Why, it was because of your crying.
“No need to thank me, (Y/N). You know I’m always one call away.” Natasha replied with a wink, her fit physique sprawled out on her queen-sized bed. You both spent the previous hour gathering your things and bringing it over to your best friend’s house with a little help from her parents. You were like family to them, so when Mr. and Mrs. Romanoff found out that you’ve been kicked out of your apartment they were rushing to your aid in a heartbeat.
“You know, I could work a few extra hours and do some chores around here and help your mom.” You announced and shrugged. “Just a little way of saying thank you to them.”
Nat scoffed. “(Y/N), you could barely even last a week in a job because of your busy schedule in school. Plus, mom wouldn’t let you do that. She’d probably kill me if I let you do house chores.”
“But Nat, this is too much!” You sighed, putting down your mug on the bedside table and joining your best friend on the bed with a little flop, your body bouncing a little as you did so.
Nat sat up and looked you dead in the eyes, her hand hovering above yours. “You’re never too much for mom and dad. They know how hard med school is and they’ve known you since seventh grade! You’re like a second daughter to them!”
You could feel tears prick the corners of your eyes but refused to let them fall. You were tired of crying and you wanted to show your best friend that you’re strong.
“Thank you, Nat. For the millionth time. I could never say it enough because you’ve done so much for me these past few years.” Your voice broke. “You’ve been saving my life ever since.”
As much as you refused, the tears fell. But you weren’t the only one this time. As Natasha pulled you in for a hug, tears welled up in her eyes as well. It hurt her seeing you struggle and try to hide it from her. She knew that you’re strong; you have been ever since. But to see you break down in front of her didn’t fail to ache her own heart, too.
And you both stayed like that for several minutes. You both enjoyed the comforting silence, your best friend’s arms wrapped around you while you calmed yourself as your eyelids began to feel heavy. Just as you were about to doze off Nat jolted upwards and you flinched.
“Holy shit, I have the stupidest but brilliant idea.” She gasped out, her eyes wide and filled with excitement. The emotional, melodramatic feel in the air was gone and was soon replaced by Nat’s excitement.
“Stupid and brilliant? Nat what—“
“You should sign up for an online dating site.” She grinned as she pointed at you, your brows drawn together in confusion as you processed the words that left her mouth.
“Natasha, no. Dating is already heavy work. I don’t need to worry for another human being when I’m struggling to take care of myself and my studies. So no, thank you.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to worry too much in this kind of relationship, (Y/N).”
Your confusion grew.
“Because he’s gonna take care of you.”
You watched as she took out her laptop and opened it enthusiastically, her fingers running smoothly across the keyboard with each letter she typed until she turned it around so the screen was facing you.
“Sweet as Sugar Online Dating Site.” You read. “Where you’ll find just the right amount of sweetness you look for in a sugar baby/sugar daddy/sugar mommy. Over 1,000,000+ users. Sign up now!”
“Sign up now!” Natasha repeated, an overanimated grin across her lips as she watched your shocked face.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“Oh, come on! I know what you’re thinking,” she giggled as she turned the laptop to her again and began typing. “Whenever you think of a sugar daddy, what comes to mind is an old, fat man with a boatload of cash. But! With this site, you can fill up a form asking what you want in a sugar daddy.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing right now.
“Come, I’ll show you!” She exclaimed as she patted the space next to her. You shook your head in disbelief as you made your way next to your best friend, watching her fill up your biodata in the pink and purple themed website.
“Nat you can’t be serious.” You tried to laugh, but it came out more of a whine. Natasha ignored you and continued to fill out the form, confident that she knew just what to fill in about yourself.
“Okay, display photo. I think I have a couple of good ones of you saved on my laptop.”
She then proceeded to scroll through her library, pictures of the both of you coming to view from past moments—birthdays, Christmas, school events, and just about everything you’ve shared with your best friend.
She finally decided on a portrait of you, a picture she took just last year when you both went on a vacation in Malibu. You were wearing a white off-shoulder dress, looking away from the camera as you laughed shyly, one hand holding on to your beach hat and the other holding down the hem of your dress to keep the wind from lifting the skirt up.
“Oooh, I like this one! It’s a subtle look, yet it shows your side-profile. Daddies would love to see more of you just from this picture!” She exclaimed, pressing on the photo and it only took several seconds before your portrait was uploaded on the site.
“Nat, this is ridiculous.” You groaned out, leaning back against the headboard as you imagined yourself dating someone ten years older than you, or someone twice your age. It’s not that you were against people in relationships that have big age gaps; you just couldn’t imagine yourself being in one, considering the fact that you were awkward and shy and downright busy.
“Not until you fill up this form.” She returned, putting the laptop on your lap and in front of you was a form asking you what you liked in a person, your preferred age, what type of relationship, the like.
“Dude, you could literally just put 5-years older as your preferred age and it would give you a shitload of results!” Natasha added. “Come on, please? If you can’t find someone you think is suitable for you, then it’s fine. We could delete your account and just drop it off. I just thought we’d give it a go, because you kinda need someone to fill your empty heart as well.”
The teasing grin on her lips made you roll your eyes. “One, my heart isn’t empty. I have you and your family in here. Two, your idea is weird and crazy. And three,”
You looked down on the screen and bit your lip, bracing yourself for what you were about to say next.
“I’m gonna sign up. For you.”
What do you look for in a sugar mommy/daddy?
Someone who can provide for me financially while I study in medical school.
How old is your preferred age?
5 years older than me. No more than that.
What are your hobbies?
Eating, cooking, reading books, watching movies, sleeping
What are your likes and dislikes?
I really love pizza. I like staying up at night, and I really really love stargazing. I also love books and coffee shops. They’re my favorite.
I don’t have many dislikes though, I just hate surprise tests and cramming for exams. I also don’t like being bothered with when I’m studying.
Please choose below what you would likely prefer in a relationship. You can tick off as many as you like.
🔘 Balanced relationship
🔘 Cohabitation/Domestic Partnership (living in the same household as your partner; no marriage required)
⚪️ Friends with Benefits
🔘 Long Distance Relationship
🔘 Monogamous (exclusive relationship; only dedicated to one partner)
⚪️ Nonmonogamous (open to more than one partner)
⚪️ Sexual Partner
🔘 Temporary Partnership/Relationship
Thank you! Your account will be set up in a few minutes. Please wait.
“Holy shit I’m really doing this Nat.” You gasped as you watched a buffering circle indicating that your account was currently being created.
Natasha cackled next to you. “So you’d like a live-in partner, huh?”
You rolled your eyes. “It could be helpful considering my situation right now.”
A ‘ping!’ sounded from the laptop and it notified that your account has been officially made. You were then directed to a new page. It was your very own profile page, showing your display photo and name at the top, and everything that you answered a while ago followed just below your name. Next to your display photo showed the number of followers and people you’re following, and the topmost right of the page was a white envelope, serving as your inbox.
“Wow,” you breathed out. “That was fast.”
“Okay!” Nat exclaimed enthusiastically. “Now all we have to do is wait!”
You groaned out as Nat took the laptop from your lap and you stretched your legs out, slightly tense from being curled in your recent position. You were starting to feel sleepy, so you decided to push yourself even lower on the bed until your head hit the soft pillow perfectly.
“I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll check on that tomorrow. I’m getting tired.” You announced as you yawned and stretched your arms out, one hand hitting your best friend on the cheek.
“Yeah, okay. We can check this out tomorrow. Tomorrow’s Sunday anyway.” Natasha agreed as she closed her laptop and put it on her bedside table, turning the lamp off in the process.
“Good night, Nat.”
“Good night sugar baby.”
Bucky arrived at his condominium, ignoring calls from his best friend. After he suddenly left lunch leaving Steve confused, the man wouldn’t stop calling him and sending him messages. He plopped down his velvet couch, grabbing his laptop that lay untouched on the coffee table, turning it on and became eager to open a website. He learned about this new website when he overheard a co-worker of his talking to another co-worker about some site for sugar babies. He instantly became curious, wanting to see how legit it was and before he knew it he found himself creating an account for his own.
He wants to help his best friend so bad. Steve has been too unyielding and bloody-minded. He doesn’t even try to put an effort when he’s been set up with dates, leaving women sad and disappointed. All Steve needed was the right woman to get him back in the game.
And this website just might help.
He began creating another account, filling in Steve’s biodata without hesitation. He chose a display picture that would surely catch girls’ attention. It was the one where he was invited to a grand opening of a new company owned by a few famous people and paparazzi were there, taking all Steve’s good angles and Bucky had saved one where he loved the most. He wore a suit and his hair was slicked back, his striking blue eyes gleaming in the light and a hint of pink lips protruding from his thick beard.
Once the account has been finally created and ready for matchmaking, Bucky began his search for eligible women that would be just right for his best friend.
...two hours later...
Hopeless. Bucky was beginning to feel so hopeless. Sure, he’s already come across countless of beautiful women but when he read their whole profile he began to hesitate. He wanted a girl that even he would certainly say yes to for his best friend, knowing that Steve Rogers was one picky man.
Just when he was in the verge of tears and about to give up, one girl caught his eye.
She was in the beach, laughing shyly and looking away from the camera, a hand holding on to her off-shoulder dress and the other keeping her beach hat from flying away.
She seemed shy and innocent and downright adorable; she’d be perfect for Steve’s dominant and stern facade.
Bucky was quick to send her a message.
Hi :) would you like to meet up sometime? I’m not much of a chatting-type of guy and I’d rather get to know you better in person. How about over a cup of coffee? x
That sounded a bit rushed. But Bucky just cannot wait any longer. He’s just going to hope that this girl knows the ever famous Steve Rogers and would instantly say yes.
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Tags: @heyiamthatbitch @little-dark-empress @verdonafrost @fallenoutofrose @janell-r @ctrl-alt-jeon @radi0active-thoughts @veronawrites @art-estrange @polarcrystall @emilypkuzu @arizonalovesher @connerkentx @kovuthebean @sweetlittlegingy @daahlias @astridsagevans @tazzi-baby @laneygthememequeen @spideys-wife @the-thighs-of-betrayal @wxstedhexrt @domolovee @selluequestrian @rootcrop @rororo06 @ashleybang @evansmess @clueless-333 @sp2900 @x-black-haired-emo-x @ashxmarvel @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @songbirdmia @pepitasab @brokenrogerz @holographic84 @imahoeforbucky @starstruckpersonearthquake @illbethethundertoyourlightning
I’m sorry for those who can’t be tagged, I couldn’t find your account :( hmu if there’s been a mistake! x
Scars to Your Beautiful
STRAY KIDS Extra Member AU
Summary: Ollie shows the boys her new song.
Taglist: @hyunmijung @galacticstxrdust @giant-puppy-yunho @kimonmars @soobinssmile
A/N: For the sake of my story, Ollie produced Blueprint, along with Can You See My Heart from Hotel Del Luna and Scars to Your Beautiful. Hope you enjoy!
Requests are open! Please let me know what you think.
Ollie sat down in between Jeongin and Jisung on the floor. The rest of the members were spread out on the floor or the couch. They had the day off and had planned to spend the day doing their own thing, but to all come back to the dorm for dinner and to watch Ollie’s new song.
The dancer had been working on a song the last few weeks, and asked both Chan and JYP if she could upload the song with a video to SKZ-PLAYER. JYP thought it was a good idea, a nice way to let Stays know that Ollie was doing okay after all that had happened.
To say that Ollie was excited was an understatement. Not only had she gotten the okay from both her doctor and JYP to participate in their upcoming comeback, but she was going to be able to show Stays one of her songs.
“Nervous?” Chan asked, chuckling. He was looking at the older, watching as she nervously tapped her knee.
Ollie looked up at him, and grinned, nodding vigorously. “So very nervous. What if Stays don’t like it?” she asked, shifting her gaze to the TV where Youtube was set up to play her video once it was uploaded.
“And why wouldn’t Stays like it, hm?” Jisung asked, leaning his back against the couch, arms folding over his chest.
Ollie shrugged. “I dunno. ‘Cause it won’t be good?” Ollie tried. She knew that there could be a million reasons for Stays not to like the song or the video. She worked hard on it and like any rational person who created anything, she was nervous for the reaction.
“You are aware that Stays have heard your other songs, and they love them, right?” Seungmin said, quirking a brow.
“Yeah, they loved Blueprint,” Jeongin said, taking Ollie’s hand into his. She looked at their hands then looked up at him and smiled sheepishly.
Ollie was even more nervous for that song. It was the first song that she’d made on her own that Chan had added on an album. Of course she had helped co-write or produce with 3Racha before, but that was her first song. Her song. And while she had written many in the past, that was the first one she had ever showcased as a member of Stray Kids.
“Let’s not forget that Ollie had also produced and sang Can You See My Heart,” Chan said, nodding. Ollie flushed at the mention of the song that she had made for Hotel Del Luna. She still couldn’t get over the fact that she was asked to not just sing an OST, but to also compose her own.
“You’re so right,” Minho agreed. “See Noona? It’s not like you’re new to this,” Minho ruffled her hair.
“This isn’t your first rodeo,” Felix added, smirking when Ollie caught his eye. She shook her head chuckling.
“I guess you’re right, but I still have the right to be nervous. Don’t tell me that you guys don't get nervous when you show Stays a new song.” Ollie turned to the members of 3Racha.
Chan smiled and Jisung nodded his head as Changbin said, “Of course we do. We’d be crazy not to.”
“See? Same thing,” Ollie grinned, pointing to them then to her.
“Point taken,” Jisung said, giving a curt nod. Ollie laughed.
“But if you really think about it, Stays have already heard two minutes of it,” Seungmin said, smirking when Ollie groaned.
“Don’t remind me,” Ollie dropped her face into her hands. Seungmin was referring to her last solo V Live, where she had accidentally played a bit of her song.
“I still can’t believe you did that,” Jisung laughed.
“And the reaction afterwards made the whole thing so much better,” Changbin added, snickering.
“I hate you both,” Ollie glared at the pair. They didn’t seem fazed, as they continued to laugh and reenact the last few seconds of her live.
“Have you seen the video yet?” Hyunjin asked Ollie, changing the subject.
She shook her head. “Not yet. I’ll be seeing it for the first time with you guys,” Ollie answered.
The music video was filmed in two nights. It was a simple video really. Ollie had mostly wanted the video to capture the Seoul nightlife, and the director said that he could easily do that. Ollie had even asked Parker to make a cameo in her video. The Aussie jumped on the offer so quickly, that Ollie couldn’t stop laughing at her excitement.
“Well, less than a minute left. Ready, Noona?” the maknae asked, squeezing her hand that was still in his.
Ollie took a big breath, then nodded her head. She watched as Chan refreshed the page and her video appeared.
“Here we go,” Chan said, then he pressed play. Her song Scars to Your Beautiful began to play.
The video started with Ollie stepping off an elevator and finding Parker waiting for her on the other side. Then the two began their night adventure in Seoul. Going to arcades, cafes, convenience stores. They walked along the Han River just messing around and down quiet streets.
The video had such a simple and chill vibe, and Ollie smiled at how the director was able to perfectly portray her feelings with the cinematography. All of it fitting well with the lyrics to her song– which was fully in English, but luckily the staff had added in Korean subtitles – and just tying together the theme of just living life as who one is. Ollie really hoped that the message of her song would come across to anyone who heard it. She hoped that Stays would be able to love themselves.
As the song came to an end, the screen still rolled. Ollie and Parker were walking down an empty road, linked at the elbows. The words ‘Never change who you are’ rolling in, then the screen went black.
A soft smile rested on Ollie’s lips as she took in everything. It came out so much better than she had expected it to. She needed to thank the staff for doing such a great job.
“Noona?” Ollie turned to Jeongin who was looking at her. “That was so good,” he said in awe.
Ollie's tiny smile grew. “Yeah?” she asked, biting her lip as she grinned wide.
“Olls, that was beautiful. The music, the lyrics, the whole video, I’m so proud,” Chan said with a found smile. A flush appeared on the girl’s cheeks as she looked away.
“Thank you. That means a lot, actually,” Ollie said, slowly turning back to look at the leader, smiling.
“I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but God damn, Noona,” Minho nodded in approval. Ollie laughed, turning to look at him.
“So good. Good job, Ollie,” Hyunjin smiled at her.
“Thanks, guys. Really,” Ollie grinned. She brought her knees to her chest and hid her face behind them. She heard a few of the boys chuckle.
“Stays really love it too,” Seungmin said. Ollie looked up to see the younger scrolling through his phone. He read a few comments out loud, all of them praising Ollie for the music, the lyrics, the message. Just hearing all this had Ollie feeling all warm inside.
“Told you Stays would like it,” Jisung said, smugly raising a brow at her.
She rolled her eyes then gently pushed him with her foot. “Shut up.”
“Can we watch it again?” Jeongin asked, though he was already reaching for the play button.
“I second that,” Felix added, turning to look back at the TV as the video began again.
Ollie took a quick glance at Chan who smiled at her, holding a thumbs up. Ollie beamed from her seat on the ground. She was so glad that she had done this.
His Princess - Chris Evans x Reader
Title: His Princess
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Prompt: Hello!! I’m so happy your requests are open again! Can you write Chris Evans going on set to his gf’s music video of "Beauty and the Beast" (w/ John Legend) and he’s so happy to date a «princess» please?
“Alright, one more for the net. Just stay like that, you look wonderful!”
You couldn't help but giggle at the enthusiasm of the young assistant. What with your manager being unable to show up any of the days of the filming the way she normally would and her always wanting you to have someone with you all the time besides bodyguards, make up artists and stylists that would be there more as a friend than anything else. And so her assistant was yours for the week as well, and you would be lying if you said you weren't already having great fun just by being around her. Not to mention the excitement of being on the set itself and living the dream quiet literally already had you grinning the whole day long as you skipped around the place.
“Alright, is this good?” you asked, resting your chin on your palm, nearly kneeling down on the floor so that the dress looked more like a flower that had enveloped you whole. The maroon color only a great contrast against the white walls of the small room and the lights shining over your diamonds jewellery.
“That's perfect, yes!” she nearly squealed, snapping another photo that made you laugh “Alright, I'm pretty sure we've got more than plenty of photos and videos now. I'm gonna get out of your hair now and see what little I can post to tease the fans. Oh and Eric left the gloves on the chair in the corner. He said it would be best if you wore them because they wanted to run a few tests with cameras and see if they will keep them or not in the end.”
“Alright, Coco, don't worry. I've got this.” you nodded your head, already picking up the fabric and slipping it through your fingers “See you in a couple minutes!”
It wasn't long before you were left in your own devices by the assistant and a calm silence fell in the room. You looked at your reflection, fixing your gloves and dress you hummed the tune of the song.
Taking your phone you scrolled through your feed, one last time before you went to work, only to soon take notice of the photos that had already been uploaded by Coco and grinned widely when you saw that some of your friends had already commented, earning a soft laugh from you as you went through them. Most of them already knew about the filming you were doing for the song of the new Beauty and The Beast movie. You had been overly excited both about the opportunity to sing the song itself – alongside none other than John Legend at that – and even more film the music video. You were so thrilled even before you got started, there was no stopping you from telling your friends everything about it even before you got started.
After so many years in the music industry, so many worldwide tours and music videos and albums later, and more than just a few in the movie industry as well you had seen and experienced so many things and yet you still got so excited over the most simple projects. Much like this one, there was not a single thing you didn't look forward to. At first you were sure it was going to be in a unique location but it was a totally different thing getting to actually see it, especially when you realized that most of it was real and not just a green screen. So with a beautiful set, dressed quiet literally like a princess it was impossible for it all to not feel like a fairytale and have you enticed even before you got started.
“Disney princess or the new Queen of Asgard? Easily both!” Chris Hemsworth had commented.
“Could have not said it better, Chris! What would a King be without her Queen after all?” Tessa comments made you grin.
“Safe to say, running Marvel and Disney has never looked more classy!” it was one from RDJ.
“And then they said not to believe in fairytales. Looking stunning as ever! If you wanna switch up a Captain, I'm always available!” your friend's comment made you laugh and you made a mental note to reply to Brie the second you got the chance to.
“Alright, so what petition do I need to sign to have them make this a live-action Disney movie now?” Liz Olsen with a great variety of emojis.
You couldn't help your smile all the while you scrolled down the comments, seeing many more not just from costars, friends or other celebrities and plenty from fans; but it was all the while a bit too tight. It didn't reach your eyes, certainly not the more you looked and found no comment from your boyfriend. You knew you shouldn't hold it against him but part of you couldn't help but feel the first waves of sadness wash over your soul. Mainly because he was the one that knew most about this song and video clip, how nervous and excited you had been from the first moment; it felt like he had been with you the whole way through all of it and therefore you wanted him to see this too, even if it was only part of what was to come.
On one hand the fact that he was such a big Disney fan was no secret either and it had always made your eagerness to see his reaction to this grow even more. And on the other, loving the man so much meant that his compliments always held a different, much more big, significance to you. Maybe, you realised slowly as you dwelled on it more, it also had a lot to do with the way he said everything. There was always so much emotion in them, such great love and admiration and adoration and every other beautiful feeling he felt for you, showing through not only his words but also his eyes, expression and touches that after all these years you had learned to picture even when he was not close to you.
You decided not to think any more of it, realising that he surely had work to do and it would be better if you focused on it. The fact that you missed said man because you had not seen him in over week due to said work completely put aside.
Setting your phone aside you started making some final checks on your dress and looks, getting the feel of it as you signed softly to yourself “Tale as old as time. True as it can be. Barely even friends, than somebody bends-”
“Unexpectedly.” the singing was soft in your ear, the breath fanning over your cheek and bare neck before a pair of arms sneaked around your waist and a pair of lips were pressed on your neck, making shivers run down your entire spine with such intensity you couldn't hold back a gasp. When a squeeze came next you didn't even have the time react because his one hand slid up to your arm and rested on your shoulders, drawing the familiar goosebumps you had so missed the past couple days.
You would have leaned back into the firm broad chest, the action as natural as blinking. Every curve and edge of your body always seemed to fit perfectly with his no matter the position and you would be a big liar if you said your body was already reacting to his touch. Your heart with its unruly heartbeat – one that easily matched his – and your lungs refusing to take in a deep breath as the pleasant warmth spread through hands around you were easily a sign of who it was, every cell in your recognizing the contact.
Your eyes widened and your vision nearly blurred as you turned around to face the man you had not even realized was there but could recognize even with your eyes completely closed. “Chris?”
“Your highness.” his smile got even bigger when you turned to lock eyes with his and oh wasn't that a sight to make your entire day worth it, if anything making all of your worries and fears disappear. His eyes were so soft, filled with so much adoration and almost sparkling in a way you had not seen before.
You stared at him for what felt like an eternity, unable to believe he was there, looking at you so lovingly. His hands were cupping your face and only when you heard him whisper “Hello, my love.” did reality dawn on you. Realizing it wasn't a dream you almost squealed before you jumped in his arms, wrapping yours around his shoulders. Earning a deep chuckle that made his chest ramble, you couldn't hold your own laughter when you felt it against your own chest.
“Oh my gosh.” you choked out, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to force yourself not to cry “Chris.” you pulled just slightly away to look into his eyes, cupping his face in both your hands. Your eyes roamed over his face, taking everything in as it felt nearly impossible to believe this was happening. You leaned in to press your lips to his in an urgent kiss that still earned a soft laugh from him. You let out a soft breath when you pulled away and as you rested your forehead against his you repeated “Chris.” and he smiled even more widely “You're here. How?”
“Do you really question that? I would travel from the other side of the world for you.” and his smile turned into a small smirk “Isn't that what a prince always does?”
“Why-” your smile turned more into a smirk as you slowly started pulling away, despite the small sound of protest that came from his lips “I didn't know you were officially my prince charming. That is a title that must be earned, is it not?”
“And it would be my greatest honor to...” he started with a small smirk of his own which eventually faded much like his words as he fully took in the sight of you in the beautiful gown, with the jewelry and gloves adorning the whole look, you realised he was completely at a loss for words.
“Well, seeing as you didn't see the photos posted on instagram yet, I'll ask now: How do I look?” you probably already looked confident enough but that didn't mean you didn't want to hear his opinion more than anybody else's.
“Dear” his eyes were wide as he took everything in “Marry me already.”
And as you expected it wasn't he words, or at least not only the words, which made your heart leap to your throat. It was the pure love and awe that filled his eyes, his smile brighter than you had ever seen it. It was the way his voice became low, almost hoarse as if his throat closed from the overwhelming emotion in his chest. It was the way he reached out for you again and slowly traced his fingers over yoru cheek, touch light as a feather, as if he feared to break you. In his eyes you saw you were more than just a fragile porcelain doll, way more important and precious to him than anything actually.
“I'm fairly sure I wouldn't mind the idea, however, should you not do something heroic to say the least to earn that right? To have the hand of a princess and even more her heart, that requires more effort, don't you think?” you said with a smirk and he chuckled before straightening his back.
“Why, your highness, had I known you'd be so open to the idea I'd have brought the ring with me. It has been tucked in the back of my drawer for too long, I fear.” he said it so casually and truthfully, without a hint of pretend for the sake of the small momentary fairytale you were living through, that it made you pause for a second to hold your breath and blink at him.
Too caught up with your own thoughts you didn't even have the chance to question anything when he spoke again. A soft laugh escaped his lips as he slowly took both your hands in his, the act slipping for the moment, as he whispered again “My gosh, you look stunning. How did I ever get so lucky in my life?”
“It's no big deal.” you felt bashful all of a sudden and you were well aware it was because of the way your heart had sped up at the thought of said ring which he had joked about a long time ago but not in this way, not with such underlacedhonesty and seriousness.
“No big deal?” his eyebrows raised “I'm standing in front of the most beautiful disney princess to ever exist, both on the inside and on the outside. And on top of it all she is my girl and only mine. I'd say I don't deserve this kind of love but who am I to judge? My ideal fairytale I coming to life, this is too good to be true and yet it is. I'll take whatever you have to give me and offer everything I can in return. Who knows-” he pulled away, you not having realized when his forehead had come to rest against yours “Maybe I'll do a job good enough or the ring will be impressive enough to make at least a bit something like a prince charming.”
The wink he sent your way earned a laugh from your own lips, easing some of the tense feeling in your chest. You realised there was no reason to dwell on it or overstress it, not at the moment, so you let your smile become more easy if not more teasing “I'm sure you'd have plenty to offer, my kind sir. But first, if only in order for a proper courtship, you must have to catch me, don't you?”
“I must wha-” he started but all words died on his lips. You were sure he had already caught up somehow, the glint in his eyes telling you as much, but didn't give him the chance to fully question it before you were already pulling away from him and with a wink, opening the door and sprinting down the long hallway.
You heard the deep laugh, filling the entire hallway and with only the smallest glance over your shoulder you saw the man start to follow you fast enough. Grinning you picked up your dress and with that, picked up your pace so that you were running. As if the feeling of the dress bouncing around like a soft cloud, the air warm inside the building but present nonetheless - not only because of the running but also because of the studio you were fast approaching and that you remembered had more than a few doors and windows – wasn't enough to make you laugh, hearing your boyfriend's laughter as he tried to catch you get louder made you feel as if you were flying more than running.
“(Y/n)? What are you-”
You recognised the voice immediately but didn't have the time to reply let alone stop for even a second when you heard Chris get closer “Can't talk now Chrissy, I gotta go! Ah!” you actually yelped – or perhaps it was her, though the laughter that came next were surely hers when your boyfriend nearly bumped into John's wife and his apologies were the proof because you didn't turn to see – before you quickly run around a corner and down some stairs.
It wasn't even a couple seconds later that you found yourself running inside the studio itself, the cameras all around as the crew was setting everything up for the filming. You almost got so carried away by the entire place, many things having been added since the morning when you first showed up, and in the middle of admiring the realistic set of a castle they had managed to build. You were sure if you had not been in any hurry, you could have easily spent hours wanderingaround the place and admiring the detailed work, getting lost in a daydream much like a fairytale. But, again, you were in a hurry and as you felt the first fingers slip over your waist, aside from earning a small yelp from you they managed to get you moving again, or more specifically running.
“You have to be faster than that, darling.” you grinned, rounding the piano so that you were on the one side and he on the other.
“Who says I am being nearly half as fast as I can really be? Who says that if I really wanted to I wouldn't already have my hands on you?” he smirked, raising an eyebrow at you that made you giggle “I am merely being your perfect prince charming.”
“Alright, first; I like the sound of that but it's not going to make me give in just yet. And second; we both know that you're just being a sore loser here. You haven't caught me yet not because you can't. You're also a sore looser, not a prince charming, dear.”
He groaned, placing a hand over his chest “Another wound, all within the span of only a couple minutes. How do I survive this? Oh yes, in fairytales, a kiss always always does wonders, doesn't I? If only my princess would be kind enough to not run away from me anymore and instead save my life?”
You had to admit that although he was being both dramatic and cheeky, and you had to keep serious, you couldn't hold back your wide smile as you spoke “For starters, you will have to earn it. And-” you paused, jumping away as he made a move to run around the piano but you were fast to get away so that you had now swapped places “If I may ask, what's the first one?”
“Wouldn't you know? As if you can't see my bleeding heart which has been struck worse today at seeing you like this. But-” another jump that got him dangerously close “I suppose if I can't get a kiss, I will make it my last wish that you wear a similar dress soon.” his words made you frown until he added “Only in total white. And really, the soonest possible so we should probably start making a guests list.”
“Chris” you caught yourself pausing, longer than expected and than should be right in this case but you felt like you had no control of your body at the moment “This is not a funny joke anymore.”
“Who said it was one in the first place?” he asked, and you could swear you heard Chrissy and John gasp softly in the background. At some point you had even seen them but now your entire mind was blank. You focused on Chris, his voice much softer than before, his posture having relaxed as if to let you know he wasn't playing any game of sorts “And maybe-” he took a slow tentative step towards you, eyes on you to judge your reaction all the time. When he saw you didn't move away from him, he took more steps closer to you “If you'd let me, I could show you real soon that I was serious from the first moment.”
“Wha-” but you stopped yourself because you knew that wasn't the answer you wanted so bad to ask, it wasn't the one your heart longed for to be answered so instead you whispered “How?”
Chris leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead, extending a hand which you took before he said another hing “First, I believe it's best if you get to job as fast as possible. And for that to happen, it would be right of me to stop playing around. So, what do you say we start things the way only in fairytales they do: a dance?”
“It doesn't necessarily happen in this order but-” you smiled, glancing over his shoulder to see John and his wife do the same, the music having only second now starting to play “I think we've already found the perfect song, so why not?”
“Think of it... as practice.”
So I have a question about how weight gain/loss works and I can't find any studies that don't seem reductionist or oversimplifying.
So, I assume you guys and I both agree: weight gain and loss is way more complex than calories in - calories out. It HAS to be. For instance, I was underweight until I started taking certain medications which made me gain upwards of 70lbs in the span of a few years. My diet and activity levels have not changed. My mom eats worse than I do (legit she sometimes only eats sugary cereals and ice cream some days, I try to only eat whole grains in contrast because I like their taste better and they're more nutritious) and she's not nearly as fat as I am. I also exercised a lot for a good year or two and while I gained plenty of muscle weight my total amount of body fat didn't change.
Meanwhile a friend of mine is chronically underweight and we eat very similarly and have the same activity levels, and he actively LOSES weight if he doesn't eat upwards of 2000+ calories a day.
I know that's anecdotal evidence, but I hear very similar stories from many people and simplifying weight down to just calories seems like it's missing a whole big picture somewhere. The body obviously has some very complex systems in place regarding the storage of body fat and when it chooses to use it vs keep it.
Seeing as you guys are skeptical of reductionist science when it comes to body fat and weight, I was wondering if you had any studies or research on hand about how weight gain and loss actually works. It seems like a fascinating topic ripe for plenty of research and experiments regarding the biological pathways of how energy is stored and used, and why it uses fat stores sometimes and not others, and why it differs so greatly between people! It feels like if it were any other field people would be pouring grants and work into figuring out this really cool mystery but because it's about fat people nobody wants to bother.
So, we have posted a lot about this.
I recommend spending some time on @bigfatscience, since this is their actual area of expertise.
I’m also interested in this in a sciency way, but as a fat person I worry about ppl focusing too much on this and not on radical fat acceptance. It shouldn’t matter if someone is fat because they choose to eat a lot and do no exercise. That’s their right as a human.
I posted this graph [cw: o word] a while back. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start in thinking about weight systematically and in a more complex way.
last time the embedded link didn’t work so I’m just putting it here in case that happens again.
I’m going to throw my tuppence-haypenny in here. Mod Siarl already gave an excellent answer, I just have my spleen to vent also 😎 engage RANT:
The calories-in/calories-out thing bugs me a LOT because it’s so simple for people to throw out, and takes FOREVER to debunk. It’s like a Gish-gallop debating tactic: make the other side look daft by casually dropping it into a discussion and watch the other side have to faff about with a big answer.
I don’t know if this comes up much in US education, but there’s an old adage:
“Physics can’t explain how a bumblebee is able to fly.”
It’s patent nonsense. Of course Physics can explain it. The problem is mis-stated: Physics, as taught to 15 year olds, is too simplistic to explain how a bumblebee is able to fly.
Physics, as taught to post-16 year olds and in higher education, is perfectly able to explain it.
Calories is EXACTLY like that, IMO.
“Just expand more calories than you take in and you’ll lose weight. SIMPLE.”
It’s an oversimplification of biological process that, yes as stated is technically correct but it bears no resemblance to reality. It’s mis-stated.
When you restrict calories, your body will react. The reaction varies on person, circumstance, metabolism, genetics and societal conditioning. It may include, but is not limited to:
‘Starvation’ mode: your body chemistry adapts to lower calorific intake and preps for a famine. Fat is one of the last things to go, because it’s your body’s last line of defence against starving to death. (https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/starvation-mode#metabolism)
Depression/mental health. Not only are you depriving yourself of something that may make you happy (tasty food you like), you’re interfering with the societal use of food (social eating, with all its positive connotations for interaction), changing your body chemistry AND setting yourself up with a “I can’t have X otherwise I’m a bad person” mentality. (https://www.consumerhealthdigest.com/general-health/dieting-mental-health.html - refs at bottom)
Decreased activity. Fewer calories == less energy. Body stays the same shape (https://www.livestrong.com/article/454212-fatigue-while-on-a-calorie-restricted-diet/).
Reduction in muscles. Fat’s your last line of defence against starving (https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/calorie-restriction-risks#TOC_TITLE_HDR_7).
Fat loss. Yep, it might happen 🤷♀️ depends on all the factors above.
Weight gain. Guess what happens when the calorie counting ends? Your body tries to get back to its previous weight ASAP (https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/smart-people-don-t-diet/201501/5-lies-the-diet-industry).
Yes, there are also studies that show calorie restriction makes you smarter, live longer, able to jump tall buildings in a single bound and blah blah blah, all of which rely on self-reporting from subjects (which is laughably unreliable), small sample sizes (womp womp) and significant differences in the baseline stats of the participants (eg this gushing report https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/caloric-restriction-intelligence/ which buries these huge methodological faults in the ‘further questions’ section. FFS.)
Why the disparity? Why is slim evidence given SO much credence rather than correctly being interpreted as ‘hm, interesting. More research needed’?
Being fat is just taken as fact to be a problem. Any study showing otherwise is immediately analysed until someone can explain that the study was flawed (see the obesity paradox for this in action - what if we just discount any thin person with cancer? Job done. Now fatties look bad again. And there was much rejoicing.)
The reverse is true for any study on calorie restriction: any methodological flaws are buried in the footnotes, because it fits the narrative.
Whether being fat is healthy or not doesn’t matter. Your body, and changing it, take a long time and concerted effort for slow changes. You’re under no obligations to any of that and deserve to be allowed to live in peace with respect. Maybe you like being fat. Maybe you like your lifestyle. Maybe there are factors more important in your life than your weight. Maybe you accept you will die at the end regardless, so to an extent your just choosing between cancer, heart disease or Alzheimers (sorry for being flippant - that’s a big topic right there).
(Why is this ‘the narrative’? If I had to guess, I’d follow the money: public health is expensive, so any excuse to turn it into a problem of will power/individual deviancy is embraced by people who want their taxes lower rather than paying for healthcare for the masses.)
So yes. Calories-in/calories-out is twaddle is the take-away from my TED talk/rant 🤣
NOTE: I’m not a biologist, nutritionist, doctor or anything else. Always go to the study source, check the methodology, check the conclusions (which regularly get utterly misquoted when reported) and make up your own mind. Don’t take what I say as fact, because I might be completely backwards.
-- Mod K
Precious 🌸 [M]
Pairing: Namjoon x Reader
Gender of the reader: female
Word Count: 4.8k
Genre: purest Fluff and so fluffy Smut it's literally Fluff!
AU: Etablished Relationship AU
Warnings: FLUFF (yeah, this here should be a real warning!) !Some Mature Content! Nipple Play, Body-Worshipping, Praising, Fingering, Soft (dirty) Talk, Mentions of Sextoys and Tears of Joy
This all here is just freaking tooth rotting fluff and it's really freaking cute!
A/N: Hello my Sweeties!
Here we go again, I got something for you! I wrote this fic also for a wonderful friend of mine for her birthday (yes, my friends are really spoiled by me!) and I got her permission to upload it. And to be honest, I'm really proud of myself that I could write such cute fluffy Smut with a great Story because usually I know myself as really kinky Shit (*cough* My Kink-Scenario *cough*) and I really hope you guys enjoy this story as much as my friend and I do!
Info: Link to the Masterlist can be found at the End of the Fanfic!
Summary: Today is your birthday and because your last few weeks have been terribly stressful, you want nothing more than to be able to sleep in on your day off. However, Namjoon has to go to practice all day long, that's why he has found a very gentle method of waking you up to unpack your presents with you together...
This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!
I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!
That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.
"Hey Baby ...", Namjoon whispers and gives you a little kiss on the temple before he kisses his way down to your collarbone. You sigh sleepily, only an incomprehensible mumbling leaves your lips. You don't want to get up yet, today is your birthday after all and you took some extra time off from work just for today to get some really good and long sleep. You know, Namjoon has to go to practice early in the morning again, but you told him last Night, before you two went to bed, to let you sleep in.
"What's up, Joonie ...", you mumble tormented, you wanting nothing more than your well-deserved sleep, which you almost gave yourself as a present for your own birthday.
"I told you to let me sleep ...", you complain and want to pull the blanket over your head again. However, Namjoon sits in the way and gently treats your neck with soft butterfly kisses. You are still too sleepy to resist these caresses and let your arms slide back onto the soft mattress.
"I know, I know, Babygirl. I should let you sleep in peace, but today is your birthday and I wouldn't see you all day otherwise, Darling. But I made something up for you in my mind, how I could wake you up in a soft and gentle way... I hope you're not mad at me anymore then."
Curious what this announcement could mean, you crook one of your eyes open to a small slit and look at him questioningly, but he just smiles softly and whispers: "Just close your eyes and let yourself be surprised... is your birthday today!"
When he starts to call you by your (secretly loved) petnames in such a loving way, it couldn't be that bad.
"Okay ...", you say quietly and finally give in, let yourself sink back into the pillows and close your eyes again.
Namjoon laughs briefly, looks at you with pure affection and love. Carefully, he pushes the blanket a bit away from your upper body, although he has just recently turned on the heating again, just as a precaution. The last thing he wants you to start freezing and shaking in what's coming next. Well ... you may like to begin trembling... but definitely not from a cool breeze!
Before proceeding with his actual plan, Namjoon looks at you again.
Your beautiful face, glad, he saw your furrowed eyebrows and knitted forehead way too often. Now everything is smooth and flawless again, without this one, always noticeable stress crease. Your eyes are closed, your breath is calm and even. Hopefully, that will not stay that way for much longer.
Carefully, Namjoon pushes a loose strap of your slightly too-large top off your shoulder and leans forward to caress the now exposed skin gently and calmly. He takes his time, a lot more time than usual. He hates himself for that all over again, as he has been able to allow so often in the recent times, not to pay your body the attention he deserves.
The last weeks, if not months, have been a nightmare. He loves his work, really! Nevertheless, the comeback drove him to the edge of despair. He spent most of his time either in the studio, in meetings, on the filming set for the new MV, or at least a few hours more than anyone else in the dance studio to perfect his Part in the choreography.
You took a new job that put the icing on the cake. Your working hours overlap with his few breaks, so you both have seen each other at the same time in your shared apartment only every two or three days. And mostly, you just gave each other the doorknob in the hand, because when one of you came home, the other Person headed directly to his work. Time was often only for a little peck and nothing more.
However, every now and then, as if by a miracle, when you both spent one or two hours together, most of the time you were like animals in heat and you just fucked each other senseless for some stress relief or just only to feel close to each other again.
Too much frustration and stress had accumulated in the time when you couldn't see each other. Sometimes you both felt more like two Singles instead of a Couple living together.
Some nights, when Namjoon came home late and you already slept, he wondered how much longer you could stand it.
How long you still want to join him, his turbulent life. When the time has come, when it becomes too unbearable, not only to have a long-distance relationship with your boyfriend when they are on Tour, but also to lead a kind of non-existent relationship. Your shared chat and perhaps the together signed rental contract still hinted at your relationship.
Namjoon has the feeling that he has to make it up again, just to get along with his own conscience. He has to show you how much he loves you, that he needs you not "just only" as a sexual stress reliever, because he loves you above all else and doesn't know how to withstand all this stress when you weren't by his side anymore.
You build him up again when he's close to a mental breakdown because too many people are demanding his attention all at the same time. You reassure him when he thinks he's a big disappointment for his members and when he thinks he's driving Hoseok insane when he can't learn the choreography so quickly like the other members. These times when he thinks he isn't enough for Armys. At least when he has the opinion he's not good enough for your patience and kindness.
That's why he wants to try to give something of this attention back to you.
A soft sigh leaves your lips as Namjoon moves lower with his kisses, pushing your top barely noticeable down, until the other strap slips off your shoulder too and finally exposes your breasts.
Namjoon raises his head slightly to look at your beautiful, perfectly imperfect breasts. Your left breast is a little bit larger than your right one. A detail that made you feel ashamed because you had to make some uncomfortable experiences with this unique feature. Your previous partners liked it to make a bad joke here and there about them, didn't even realize what they had done to you with such comments.
"Baby, I hope you know how beautiful you are, how beautiful your whole body is, with every little special detail. How beautiful your breasts are, their shape and how differently they react to my caresses, how perfect your left breast fits in my hands and how sensitive your right nipple is, all these details just makes it more interesting to play with your body..."
You giggle softly, full of embarrassment and hide your blushing face behind your hands. But Namjoon grabs your wrists and pulls them aside with gentle force.
"Hey, Babygirl, don't be ashamed, please don't be embarrassed of your body or what I'm saying, I'm absolutely serious, okay?"
He strokes your cheek before he gives you a long, sensual kiss. It's about time that you remember how much you are loved and Namjoon is eager to give you the attention you deserve. Otherwise, you only were so embarrassed at the beginning of your relationship with his compliments.
"I love you, and I want you to know that too, verbally and with touches as well. I want you to feel attractive and wanted, just like you are, with that damn hot body and your dirty mind, Darling. Just relax, I'll take care of you."
You nod lightly, throw a grateful smile full of love to your boyfriend that he cares so patiently for your insecurities and makes you feel so good again. With a smile, Namjoon kisses your lips one last time before returning his full attention to your chest and closing his lips around the nipple of your right breast.
A small moan escapes your lips and a heated shudder runs down your spine. Namjoon knows your body very well, knows where to touch you to elicit such reactions right away.
Joonie starts to grin, more than satisfied with these reactions he gets out of you. His left hand wanders to your other breast, begins to gently massaging it, rubbing his palm over your nipple, before he tease it with his thumb a little bit.
You bite your lower lip, try to hold back these sinful sounds in your throat, don't try to give Namjoon the satisfaction of having made you completely weak already. The tiredness that had previously been in your bones fades away more and more with every second.
Instead, heat spreads through your body, seizing every nerve cell of your body like a raging bushfire, especially the area between your thighs begin to burn with lustful heat. You might get used to being woken up like this some more often.
"You love it how I play with your nipples, don't you, Baby? I think you're already wet between those beautiful legs of yours...", mumbles Namjoon with his hot breath against your nipple, makes you shudder even more.
Like before he take his time for all parts of the body, so he did with your breasts. So long that you start getting impatient and a soft "Please ..." slip out of you. You want more, you need more, this heat in your abdomen is hardly bearable anymore.
"What do you want, Honey?"
"More, please give me more...", you whimper.
Your arousal has already soaked your panties completely, it sticks umcomfortable to you. All you want right now is to get rid of it and hope that Namjoon doesn't make you wait too long until he gives you some relief.
"As you wish, Birthday Girl"
He repositions himself next to you, now sitting on his calves at the level of your hip, carefully pushing the rest of the blanket off your body. When he sees this thin, white cotton panties with small blue dots, he finds it on the one hand unbelievably cute but on the other hand also really sexy.
You spread your legs a bit more to give Namjoon the hint that you really need him down there. Joonie can already see it, the fabric between your thighs has turned dark from arousal.
He lets his index finger stroke over the damp fabric, makes you flinch.
"Already so wet, baby ... just for me ...", he wispers more to himself, amazed how wonderful your body reacts to his touches.
"Don't tease me ...", you whimper and move restlessly back and forth. You need him, his fingers, his tongue, whatever he wants to give you between your legs. Without this damn panties.
Namjoon realizes how you grown impatient and helps you to get rid of this annoying piece of cloth. And now, you're lying there in front of him, showing him your bare and beautiful body, allowing him to see you so vulnerable and naked. Show him with so much devotion and love, you don't want anything more than your release from this hell of lust with his help.
"Baby, I know... I've said it countless times, but you're so beautiful, I love you, so freaking much, I'll give you what you need the most now."
Without hesitating unnecessarily, he let his right hand glides between your thighs, grabs your hand with his left hand, interlocks his fingers with your own. You begin to smile at this small but significant gesture, but close your eyes the next moment again and your lips parts to let out a moan.
Namjoon's fingers caress your wet folds, divide slowly with two fingers and rub your clit. Electric shocks shoot through your body, driving you crazy.
Between moaning and gasping for breath, you mumble some incomprehensible words, repeating your boyfriend's name over and over again like a luck bringing mantra. Like a salvation bringing mantra.
After coating his fingers with enough arousal, he let his fingers sinks lower, gently sliding the second finger into you after the first one and placing his thumb on your clit.
You push your back in the air, snapping gasped for breath, a soft, whimpered "Please" stumbles over your open lips. Begging for more, you roll your pelvis towards him, trying to ride his fingers, which so far remain still in you.
"Whatever you want, Princess...", gasps Namjoon, fucking turned on by this scenery in front of his eyes. But you are the only important priority now.
He guides your interwined hands to his lips and begins to place countless little kisses on your knuckles and the back of your Hand as his other fingers begin to move inside of you.
Namjoon gently starts to bend his fingers inside of you, knowing exactly where to find that sweet spot in you that makes you float into the sky.
"Oh God... Oh God... N-Namjoon...", you babble softly. Feel, how the heat within you becomes unbearable and that knot in your abdomen is not far from bursting.
"Yes Babygirl, I know you're close. I'm here baby. I'm here and gonna hold you when you're tumbles over the edge and begin to fall."
Your eyebrows are kitted together, your eyes are squeezed shut and your mouth is open, ready to let your silent moan ecape into the room.
Namjoon accelerates its rhythm, draws small circles over your clit, feels how your walls are tightening. Your legs starts to shake and your throat will flow over with small whimpers.
"I'm gonna... I-I'm gonna...", you wisper breathless.
"Come, Princess. Come for me, Babygirl. You're doing it so well, get your well deserved orgasm." Namjoon encourages you with his breathless voice.
Placing a last kiss on the back of your hand before the fireball bursts in you and you will be carried away in waves of lust for a few moments.
Seeing you reaching your High is a very personal gift for Namjoon.
You look so beautiful, so careless and peaceful. As you recover from your orgasm, Namjoon leans forward and presses a tender kiss on your lips.
"Happy Birthday, Babygirl~"
Namjoon comes back from the bathroom with a soft, wet towel to clean the little mess between your legs up (what he caused!). Then he goes to your dresser and gets you a new pair of panties from the drawer in that you store your underwear. This time it's pair of white panties with red dots on them.
You watch him the whole time with sleepy eyes and a smile full of affection. After such a wonderful orgasm, you could immediately go back to sleep, completely satisfied and there is still the will to sleep through the whole morning.
"Hey darling ... you have to stay awake for a bit longer, but then you can sleep through the rest of the day," says Namjoon softly and tries his best to keep you awake in a gentle way.
"How about a latte macchiato and your favorite croissants from "La petit réve de Florence" ? Before I woke you up I got breakfast for you. There was too much danger that I would break something in the kitchen... again.", he says quietly with a small self-ironic laugh.
Just the thought of a wonderful latte macchiato and these fluffy croissants from the french boulangerie of your trust elicits a sigh of pleasure out of you and actually makes you sit up in bed with a hearty yawn and lean against the headboard.
Namjoon takes your new position as an approval that a french breakfast is the best thing to start in the day of your birthday and disappears into the kitchen.
Namjoon comes back with a richly laid bed tray to eat comfortably in bed. He places it carefully over your lap on the mattress so that you can eat in peace. The latte has already cooled down a bit and is now at the perfect temperature to drink and the croissants smell wonderful. Namjoon also filled jam in tiny bowls, in which you dip the ends of your croissants.
"You can already start to eat, I have to get some more things", says your boyfriend, who is already walking through the door frame of your bedroom and disappeared again.
You look after him with your mouth full of croissant, but only shrug with your shoulders and dedicate your full attention now to the delicious breakfast in front of you.
Namjoon returns to the room with a second tray, tries to balance the wrapped presents and the various boxes as best he can to your side of the bed. When he has placed everything safely on the dressing chair next to your nightstand, he gives you his typical, irresistible smile again with his damn cute dimples in his cheeks.
"Happy Birthday, my Love!"
You almost choke when you realize how many gifts are there and your eyes are almost the size of a plate.
"Those... are they all for me?"
"Does anyone else in this household have birthday today? Of course they are for you, Jagi!", says Namjoon with a big smile.
"B-But at first, let me eat my croissants before I unwrap the presents! I don't want to spread crumbs all over the bed," you answer your overexited boyfriend.
Namjoon nods and tries his absolute best to stay calm, but he is too excited to gives his presents to you, so that he can hardly sit calmly next to you, always rocks nervously back and forth.
"Which gift do you want to unpack first?", he asks immediately when you wipe the last puff pastry crumbs from the corner of your mouth with a napkin.
A little bit overwhelmed, you let your gaze wander over the presents until you shrug your shoulders undecided.
"I have no idea, everything has such nice wrapping paper, so I don't want to tear it apart in general..."
Namjoon rolls his eyes playfully, he can't do anything with such a pointless answer. That's why he ultimately decides to give you the biggest gift of all of them.
A wide band of white silk is tied around the oval box, so that a perfect large bow sits on the lid of the box. You pull carefully the bow open and remove the lid from the stable and high-quality box.
You gasp when you see the pastel pink rabbit vibrator. You carefully take it out of the preformed indentation and look at it with fascination from all sides. It's not a big surprise that Namjoon gives you a sex toy as a present, you have given each other toys for the bedroom from time to time already before today.
However, this little exemplar is a completely different level, this here is no longer a "normal" sex toy, this is a real luxury item.
"The worldtour starts soon and we won't be able to see each other for months again and I thought... this one here could serve you well, when I unfortunately couldn't satisfy your needs by myself, even if I would like to do it for you when certain desires are no longer bearable... anyway, according to the reviews, it should have an excellent vibration, which should also be very powerful if you can trust these comments...", Namjoon explained his motives for this gift and winked at you with a cheeky grin.
You playfully hit Namjoon against the upper arm, who groans overdramatically "from the unbearable pain" and complacently observes how the pink blush rises on your cheeks. Especially when you consider that Namjoon spoiled you with his fingers just around twenty minutes ago and gave you a breathtaking orgasm.
As carefully as you unwrapped this gift, you gently put it back in his box and place it behind you on Namjoon's bedside. As soon as you have turned to the front again, Joonie has three other gifts ready. They reminds you of books in terms of their shape and size, what allows you to look forward in a certain anticipation. You're right with your guess and with every book that you unpack, your joy about these carefully selected gifts only increases more and more. All three books were written by your favorite authors, are the first edition and are bound in a beautiful hardcover.
In that moment you just want to hug your boyfriend and squeak full of joy, however, he stops you with a loving gesture, indicating the last book you unpacked.
"Baby, have a look...", he says and makes promising gestures on the book cover. You open the book curiously and put your hand over your mouth, can't believe what you'll find there.
The recently published book by your absolute favorite author is personally signed by her and the small text she wrote in the book is addressed to you!
You would love to have a book signed by her by hand... and now you have one that is also personalized just for you!
Dear Mrs. Y/N Kim
I am very pleased to hear that you read my books so diligently and sometimes even late into the night that your husband has to take my writings away from you and hide it so that you can still grab some sleep. I am deeply honored by this, but please make sure you have a healthy sleep rhythm! I only speak from own experiences...
I also wish you a wonderful birthday and all the best! Have fun with my new book!
Yours sincerely Y/F/A
(P.S .: I know you two are not married, but I think you're the perfect couple and I wish you the best for your hopefully shared future!)
"Oh my god, Namjoon... that's... that's... I have no words! She already calls me Mrs. Kim! Namjoon! How did you do it!?"
"Well,Y/N, there must be some advantages to being famous and everyone knows you... I called her publishing company and asked if anything like this could be arranged. The next day I was called back and suddenly I had her on the phone personally and we had a little small talk... she is really nice and I already had back then the feeling during the phone call that she lowkey ship us... ", explains Namjoon and laughs at the end a little bit and shakes his head amused.
Without realizing it, tears running down your cheeks and you throw yourself around your darling's neck. Now you're really start to sob.
"Thank you, Namjoon! Thank you, thank you, thank you for these wonderful birthday presents and this wonderful morning! I love you so much, I don't know how I can thank you for it! I-"
"Wait, wait baby! We're not done yet! The best alyways comes at the end, right?", he says and shush you gently.
"Wait, what? More? A-And even better?... Namjoon, you've gone completely crazy!", you sniff, giggling and trying to wipe the tears of joy out of your eyes.
He picks up the tray again and pulls out a plain, white envelope with your name on it in his handwriting.
With shaky fingers, you pull out a single ticket and scan with your eyes over the informations. It's a ticket from Seoul to your hometown, on a date where you already booked a ticket for yourself because your parents celebrated their silver wedding anniversary that specific weekend, but unfortunately Namjoon had to cancel because... wait-
He gently takes the ticket out of your hands, puts it on your nightstand and then looks straight into your eyes and takes your hands in his.
A smile full of love is on his lips and his eyes starts to shine in a dangerous way too, as if tears are forming in the corners of his eyes.
"Do you remember last week, when I came home all stressed and edgy and that for days? Partially I didn't want to tell you what's going on? That was because I had some arguments with Sejin and Si-hyuk, because I wanted to have three days off so that I could fly with you to your parents and accompany you to their silver wedding anniversary. After a few clarifying discussions I was finally able to arrange it and got their 'Okay'. So I got yesterday finally the chance to book my ticket. I'll come with you and we'll fly to your parents together!"
"Namjoon! You really went completely crazy! I'm the reason you've been having all this trouble?! You can't be serious!"
You almost shout at him and throw yourself at him, crying and sobbing. Nothing holds your tears anymore, they just run down your cheeks and you are so overwhelmed with all this joy and love you feel for him that you can't calm down right now.
Namjoon gently caresses your back, talks you into comfort, but also gives you the time you need to process all of this in your head and slowly come down.
"N-Namjoon! Please explain to me how I deserve all of...", you are making an extravagant gesture around you two where all the presents are scattered all over the bed "... this here?"
"You know, Y/N... I ask myself the same question every day when I wake up next to you and have the possibility to look into your beautiful face. What I deserved to have met you. A person who takes me the way I am, without wanting to change me. A person who supports me as I need it at this specific moment. A person who is patient with me when I'm impatient with myself and sometimes have unbearable phases. A person who loves me when I can't love myself in dark days. And all these things you've done for me, even when I don't have the time for you that I would like to have. I just wanted to return the favor."
You open your trembling lips, try to respond to his wonderful words, but no sound comes out of your throat. You simply cannot find any words for this literally breathtaking declaration of love.
Namjoon smiles at you softly and yet a bit nervously, almost looks like a shy schoolboy who confess his love to his crush. Then he takes the floor again.
"But please believe me, Y/N, I don't want to buy your love with these gifts here and also all these small souvenirs from these different countries and even when I just want to give you a little gift, I only want you to know that I always think of you. And somehow want to show myself recognizable, even if I have a lack of goddamn time for it. This time that I would like to spend with you. Therefore I would like to thank you again and again, that you give me the chance to realize my dream job and at the same time I am lucky enough to be able to complete this dream with you. Thank you. I love you so much and maybe you can understand now how much I love and appreciate you."
Namjoon's voice begins to tremble towards the end and when you look up at him you see tears running down from the corner of his eyes. Your heart feels as if it can no longer withstand this love in your chest and wants to burst into thousand pieces.
"I love you too, Namjoon. So, so much! And now, right now, I know exactly how much you love me, that sometimes it just steals my voice...", you sob.
You lie in the arms of each other a few more moments, enjoy being allowed to be so close to the other person, at least for a tiny moment. Until Namjoon's timer rings, which should remind him that he should go for practice now. A frustrated sigh escapes Namjoon.
"Hey Baby, it's time to continue working on your dream and make it come true... right? And I want to go back to sleep anyway until my girls storms our apartment to celebrate my birthday too. Come on, hop hop, out of the bed! Hobi doesn't like to wait! ",you giggle and shoo him out of bed.
At the door, Namjoon turns around to you the last time.
"I love you, my Queen."
"I love you too, my King."
You start to laugh together before the front door closes and you sink back into the pillows with a slight smile in your lips.
Games, Jokes, and Other Things That Get You in Trouble with Your RWB (Rival With Benefits)
Also on AO3!
Tags: Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, Ratchet/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime, Ratchet (Transformers), Rodimus | Rodimus Prime, Alcohol, nebulous time and place, drinking game gone serious, ending up in a feelings talk bc your communication sucks
“Okay, okay, my turn,” Rodimus hiccupped as he lowered the half-empty cube, catching it on the edge of the table and splattering the floor with Carpacian Blue.
“No, you’re done,” Ratchet said, taking the cube and setting it aside. He was just overcharged enough that he had to think the movements through, keeping an optic on his hand until he was sure there was no more danger of him making a bigger mess.
“Oh, come on, Ratch,” Rodimus said, leaning forward to try to grab his cube back. “Won’t even drink this time. Just like playing with you.”
Ratchet dropped his arm between Rodimus’ hand and the last drops of engex.
“You’re going to be miserable in the morning,” he warned.
“Aw, you gonna take care of me like a good sparkmate?”
“I’m hardly going to be doing any better.”
Rodimus got his hand on Ratchet’s elbow and tried to pull them closer together. Ratchet, though, refused to budge, so Rodimus had to content himself with scooting over and leaning heavily against his shoulder.
“You’ve barely had anything,” he said. “You’re too good at these games.”
“I’ve been playing a lot longer than you, and with much more competitive bots. You know how many petroleum shots Thunderclash can take if you tell him it’s a competition?” That earned him an amused snort and he smirked in response, adjusting himself so he could wrap an arm around Rodimus’ waist. “Regardless, I’m more worried about recharge. You volunteered to cover during Megatron’s psyche eval, remember?”
“Yeah…? Oh frag, what time is—” Rodimus groaned as he checked his chronometer. “This shift’s gonna suck.”
“Come here.” Ratchet took Rodimus’ hand and popped open his carpal access panel with practiced ease. “I’ll get the pain patch set up now. Run it when you come online, if you remember it’s there.”
“You’ll remind me, won’t you?”
“If you wake me up before gamma, I will personally oversee your processor melted down in the nearest smelter.” He plugged himself in and started to upload the patch, letting a few spare processing threads leak through to make it clear he was kidding.
“Ratchet!” Rodimus yelped anyway, rolling onto his back so he could stare up pathetically while dragging Ratchet’s hand across his chest. It might have been tempting, were they not both overcharged and exhausted. “You only love me for my processor?”
“There are some valuable materials in there,” Ratchet said, tapping Rodimus’ helm with one finger. “The amount of *** alone could trade for a decent crate of high grade.” He felt his smile grow gentle as the hand he had connected to Rodimus spread across his chest. “Your spark, though… I’m afraid I couldn’t get much for that. I’d just keep it for myself, I think.”
“Aw, you do care.”
“Yep.” The upload finished, so Ratchet unplugged himself and respooled his cable. “Finally, you’re starting to get it.”
“You hid it, for a while,” Rodimus said. He must have been overcharged, if he was willing to talk so freely about his insecurities. Normally it took some vulnerability on Ratchet’s part and a good cry before he was willing to divulge whatever was bothering him.
“No, I’ve never hid how I felt about you,” he said, moving his hand up to Rodimus’ neck and stroking the cables. “Was just wrong for a while.”
“You can’t be wrong about a feeling.”
“I was.” Ratchet saw the way Rodimus’ optics started to flicker and knew where this was headed. Rather than risk falling into recharge at the table, he got his hands under Rodimus and heaved him up, pushing until the other bot had no choice but to continue sitting up under his own power.
“Ratchet,” he whined.
“Berth,” he replied, in a tone that brooked no argument. Rodimus recognized it and relented, getting his pedes under him as he wobbled upward. Ratchet rose to his side, wrapping an arm under his shoulders to steady him, and counted down the steps to the berth.
Four steps. Three steps. Two.
“Let’s play one more round,” he said.
“Ratch—? Why?” Rodimus looked at him, his nose brushing Ratchet’s jaw.
“Because I want to,” he said as Rodimus leaned over the berth and crawled on, rolling over so he could watch Ratchet sit down with a degree more dignity. He did not settle yet, reaching out to cup Rodimus’ helm and stroke a thumb across his finial, his cheek. Their optics met, Rodimus’ wide and brighter than they had been moments before.
“Okay,” he said. “Shoot.”
“Do you consider me your sparkmate?” Ratchet asked.
Rodimus’ lips pulled into something thin and uncomfortable.
“Do you?” he asked.
“That’s not how the game works.”
“Yeah, but—but this isn’t fun.”
“It was just supposed to be fun,” he said, thumb still but hand in place.
“Wait—okay, wait hold up,” Rodimus said, leveraging himself back upright. His momentum was too much for his engex-ridden processor and he almost pitched himself forward before he caught himself. “Frag, I’m too sloshed for this. Give me a…” He blinked, and when his optics came back online, the glow was steadier, his wavering posture tensing into something more controlled. He made to grab Ratchet’s hovering hand, hesitated, then went for it anyway.
“Do you want to stop? Is it not fun anymore?” he asked.
“I want to make sure we’re on the same page,” Ratchet said. He was resisting the urge to pull Rodimus to his side again. “What you’re talking about is a relationship, Rodimus. A commitment.”
“What I’m talking about?” Rodimus repeated, his expression pinching into confusion. “I was just making a joke, Ratch. Didn’t expect you to think anything of it.”
“And why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you don’t—okay, no, you do care,” he admitted, before they could get into another argument over whether Rodimus was worth being cared for. Ratchet always inevitably won that one. “But not like that. You said yourself, it’s a commitment, and there’s no reason for you to want something like that with me.”
“Don’t you think that’s my decision to make?” Ratchet asked. His hand squeezed around Rodimus’. “Is that what you want?”
Rodimus hesitated. He bit his lip while his optics traveled up to the ceiling before slamming back down onto Ratchet.
“Yeah,” he said, voice quiet and tight.
“Okay,” Ratchet said with a nod. Now he did pull Rodimus closer, freeing his hand so he could wrap around the lithe bot in a hug. He pressed a kiss to Rodimus’ temple. “We can try it.”
“We can?” Rodimus asked.
“I’d like to,” Ratchet said, his spark warming as nervous hands came up to return the embrace. “I do love you. Whether that translates to a workable partnership is something we can only learn through experience.” Like all new relationships, it was a risk, but one that Rodimus made worthwhile.
“Love you too, Ratch,” Rodimus said as he tucked his face against Ratchet’s neck, pressing what might have been a kiss against the delicate cables. “I’m scared of hurting you, and I feel like that’s way more likely if you go and start trusting me like this.”
“I already trust you,” Ratchet said. “We do need to get better at communicating, though.”
“I guess we could start by talking through exactly what we mean by sparkmates,” Rodimus said. He pulled back and Ratchet finally saw his shy, hopeful smile. “In the morning. After you wake me up to remind me about the pain patch.”
“I already told you, I’m not—“
“Aw, but Ratch,” Rodimus said, flopping backward onto the berth with his arms outstretched in invitation. “Isn’t that what a good gentlemech would do for his poor, hungover sparkmate?”
Ratchet pulled himself the rest of the way onto the berth and settled in Rodimus’ arms, grumbling the whole way.
“Don’t expect to make a habit of this,” he warned.
“Course,” Rodimus said as the lights in the room dimmed and he snuggled close, the warmth of his engine bleeding out through his plating.
Ratchet pulled their frames close together and sighed. His spark had been thrumming with nervous energy, but it settled as he felt Rodimus’ frame relax against his own. They fit well together, he thought. Not perfectly, not at first, but close enough that with a bit of thought they had made it work.
It was hardly a perfect analogy for a relationship, but he took it as a comfort as he settled into recharge, Rodimus at his side.