#i was like 'oh this is tamer than i remembered' then did the bad ends and went Aaaah

[myceliiumz]

i recently bought and played dmmd to complete a sort of prophecy that had been building up since i was like, 13 years old, and wow. this truly was the yaoi bible

#i was like 'oh this is tamer than i remembered' then did the bad ends and went Aaaah

[skzdarlings]

sharing a bed ; seungmin ; sequel

masterlist.

original one-shot.

pairing: kim seungmin/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers. sequel to sharing a bed one-shot linked above. morning afters. running from feelings. making reader jealous. confrontation with a creep and light violence. sexual content includes blow-jobs, hand jobs, strap-on blowjobs, 69ing, rimming, pegging, light choking. some brat seungmin and sort of brat tamer reader (kinda just likes the brat lol). word count: 7k.

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Kim Seungmin, the perpetual thorn in your side and ache in your head, is torturing you. 

Not the fun kind of torture, either.   You had your fill of that two nights ago when a silly scheme resulted in a horny happenstance and you let yourself get carried away.  Your careful control not only slipped, but fell right into the hands of someone you once disliked. 

It left you befuddled in the light of the day, when you woke to Seungmin curled around you, his cheek pressing into your bicep and his leg hooked around yours.  Not to mention his morning wood digging into your hip.  It surfaced memories of the pretty and unexpected piercing you found there, how your idea of this guy was so so wrong.  And it made you wonder what else you were wrong about, and all the ways this burgeoning something could go wrong in turn.   Your thoughts spiralled. 

You were no longer handcuffed, so you slipped out of bed and walked right out the front door.  You hoped a walk through the brisk winter morning would help clear your mind.  It did, but only momentarily.  When you got back to the vacation house and ran into Seungmin, you fumbled.  Badly.  You meant to be pragmatic but came across dismissive.  Something about how last night was the only night.  Something about how you were bad at commitments.  Something about being better off friends. 

Seungmin was silent the whole time, letting you ramble like an idiot.  Then his eyes narrowed and he laughed.  It was an airy, unpleasant, and derisive sound.    

“Trust me,” he said.  “We will never be friends.” 

“Well, fine,” you said, bristling despite the fact you were the one rejecting him.  What did you care if he hated you again?  You didn’t.  You shouldn’t.  “Good.”

It was not good.  Saying it left a sour taste in your mouth and a pit in your stomach. 

And despite it all, your stupid horny hindbrain did not relent, purring like a kitten when Seungmin gave you a judgemental once-over and scoffed.   You could not help but remember the very different noises he made last night, again and again, in your hands and mouth, from your actions and words. 

You will never look at him the same way again.  You have no idea how to move forward, but you know you can never go back.  Pretending nothing happened will not work for once.   

It freaks you out.  You are usually good at shucking attachments.  His cold acceptance should not have hurt.  What did you care?  This vacation would end and you would go back to your own lives, right?   So you let Seungmin shove past you.  He ignored you for the rest of the day.  When he started an argument later, causing everyone else to groan, you replied like always, but it was half-hearted at best.   

Oh god, you think now, rubbing the bridge of your nose, I can’t start thinking with my damn heart. 

Emotional attachments and long-term romantic liaisons never turn out well.  You cut a dashing figure but your many flaws eventually find their way to the surface.  It is not worth the inevitable heartbreak when someone sees under the charming mask to the real you.   

Rather than suffer later, you are suffering now, brooding over a beer while doing your damnest to not look across the bar.  You know you will not like what you see. 

You and your friends only have a couple more nights at the vacation lodge, so you all went down to the nearby resort to drink and dance and enjoy a fun night out. 

You are not having any fun, of course.  You are sitting on a bar stool, all alone at the counter, in your signature leather jacket as you hunch over your drink and glare at nothing in particular. 

Seungmin, on the other hand, is suddenly a dazzling socializer rather than an obnoxious stuck-up jerk like he used to be.  You expected him to sit in a corner, making snarky remarks all night, but instead he has been moving from person to person, flirting with anything that breathes. 

He is also wearing an obscene pair of jeans.  No one else in the friend group seemed to notice, not a single eye so much as twitching in his direction, but you noticed.  Oh, yeah, you fucking noticed.  The second he came bounding the stairs, swinging on a stupid baggy letterman jacket like the twerpy little prep he is.  His dark hair neatly combed, bangs swept off his forehead, brightening his gaze. 

The jeans.  The stupid fucking jeans.  Straight-cut denim that has absolutely no business cupping his ass the way it does.  And why does he have such a nice ass anyway?  It also has no business looking that way. 

Kim Seungmin.  What a nightmare. 

You take a swig of beer and glare at the wall.  You tell yourself not to look at him.  He is probably leaning over some equally prissy knob and offering to buy them a glass of milk or whatever people like them drink. 

So, no.  You will not give him the satisfaction.  It is no coincidence that in all the time you have known him, Seungmin has never  been flirtatious or promiscuous, but the second you turn him down he is slobbering all over anything that moves. 

You will not let him get to you.  You will not look at him.  You will not react. 

Except he is already getting to you.  So you look over.  You react. 

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumble, abandoning your beer and stomping down from your stool. 

Seungmin is huddled in a booth with some colossal bitch of a man.  You recognize him from the other night, remembering how much time he spent harassing the bar staff.  Seungmin doesn’t know that.  He might be your enemy – or whatever – but you are not gonna leave the guy with that kind of jerk.  And you are not secretly thrilled that you are justified in storming over there, drawing up to the table with all the aggression that has been building inside you. 

You slap a hand on the table, bringing their attention to you.  Seungmin gives you a once-over, then smiles that stupid smile of his, all boxy and puppyish, like you are the funniest punchline to the funniest joke in the world.  There was a time you used to fantasize about swiping that smile off his mouth.  You are still thinking about occupying his mouth, just not like that. 

“Move along,” you say to the creep. 

“Excuse me?” 

He is already drunk.  You can smell it as much as see it.  Seungmin is looking very smug and you start to feel like he picked this guy on purpose. 

Seungmin drives you crazy, he really does.  One second he is all good boy, the next he is purposefully throwing himself at a creep just to get a rise out of you.  You feel like he would take a running leap off the mountainside if he was inclined to a prove a point to someone.  He is fearless and ridiculous and you want to hate him.  You want him to be the boring two-dimensional snob you thought he was.  You have no idea what to do with the complicated man in front of you. 

That’s a lie, you think, meeting his gaze.  You know exactly what to do with him.

You swear his eyes are twinkling.  He slouches back comfortably, arms crossed. 

“I told you once,” you say, tearing your gaze from him to look at the creep.  “Now move along.” 

“Try me.” 

The guy was only bothering women and seems uninterested in Seungmin so you suspect he just wants to piss you off, but then he puts a hand on him anyway, grabbing Seungmin by the arm so suddenly that it surprises him. 

Before Seungmin can shake him off, you snatch the guy by his wrist and twist.  He yelps, struggling to wrestle his arm back from your iron grip.  You slam him against the back of the booth. 

“Touch him again,” you say, “and I will break your hand.  You wanna try me?”

He opens his mouth, no doubt to spew some smelly rejoinder, but you don’t stick around for it.  You grab Seungmin by the elbow and yank him out of the booth.  You drag him away. 

“Excuse me,” Seungmin says, not politely, ripping his arm back.  “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I think I’m saving your dumb ass from getting felt up by every creep on this mountain.” 

“Meh-meh-meh,” he mocks, dodging when you reach for him again.  “I’m having fun.  I don’t need you to do anything.  It’s not like you’d really care if something happened to me.  Bad,” he smirks, “or good.” 

He knows he has you cornered.  You might have the physicality over him, but he is holding this entire scene in his hands.  You can only rub your jaw and shake your head, trying and failing to remember how to act indifferent. 

He has the tiniest drop of cream on his upper lip, leftover from the sugary abomination someone bought him.    

You say nothing in reply to his deliberate antagonizing.  You plant one hand on your hip and reach for him with the other.   When he tries to dodge, you grab him by the shoulder, firmly putting him in place.  He does not move the second time, standing still while you wipe a thumb across the sugary residual. 

Then you push at his bottom lip, press down, flicking your thumb so it bounces back.  His stare is unwavering.  He is not the blushing type, but he noticeably swallows. 

“Come on,” you say, zipping up your jacket.  “We’re leaving.  Now.” 

“What if I don’t want to?” he asks. 

You grab the back of his neck and drag him right up against you. 

“I didn’t ask,” you say.   

“Friends don’t get to make demands, dumbass,” he says, sneering the word friends.  He does not wriggle away, but he does not fully surrender either.  He meets your stare head-on, unmoving and unintimidated. 

He is going to make you say it.  He is not going to let you act sexy and charm your way out of it.  He is going to stand in this bar with your hand uselessly holding his neck until you do.   

“Fine,” you say.  You exhale.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I said all that dumb shit.  I’m a moron.”

“Yes,” he says.  “You are.” 

“I didn’t think it would matter that much anyway.”

“Because you aren’t the romantic type,” he says dryly. 

“Because I didn’t think you’d care,” you admit.  “You don’t like me and we don’t get along anyway.  I just—”  You finally drop your hand, waving at nothing and looking away.  You can feel him glaring at you.  “Look, I suck, I get it.  Believe me, I know all the ways I suck.  I figured I’d spare us the mess when you figured that out so I just walked away while it was still good.”

“You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought,” he says.  He is still frowning at you.  “I already know how much you suck.  It was the first thing I noticed, you arrogant, womanizing ass.”

“Hey now…”     

“You’re vulgar and loud and, for someone without a dick, you think with it constantly.”  

 “I… don’t…”  You do.

“And for some reason even though you are the biggest idiot and the worst person I have ever met,” he says, still glaring, “I still like something about you.  Because even though you’re determined to not let anyone see your good side, unfortunately you have one.  Even though it’s buried so deep you have to walk into hell to find it.” 

It did not really occur to you that Seungmin has already seen your worst qualities.  Because you did not get along, you never felt a need to hide those attributes.  Inadvertently, you have been more open and honest with this annoyingly handsome brat than anyone else you have ever known.

You cannot help the smile tugging at your lips.  Seungmin rolls his eyes. 

“You’re hopeless,” he says, shaking his head as he shoves past you.  “Take me home, idiot, before I come to my senses.”   

You turn to follow him, only to get bopped on the nose when he shoves a pointed finger in your face. 

“If you even think about acting like a moron in the morning,” he says, “I will kill you and make it look like an accident.” 

You draw a cross over your heart and nod.  He huffs in aggravation, turning on his heel and stomping outside. 

“You’re the worst,” he says.  He swings open the door and stomps into the snowy night, seemingly unbothered by the fluffy bits of snow swirling around his face.  He just swings up his hood and marches through the downy white carpet.  “You better make this worth my while,” he says. 

Your eyes are on his ass in those jeans, thinking about how you very much will be making it worth his while.  You look up when he keeps grumbling to himself, a marked sign he is maybe more nervous than he is letting on.  You remember his stubbornness before his eventual acquiescence, the way he hid his face at his most vulnerable moments. 

You might be in the habit of ducking out the door, but he deflects just as much with his wit.

You hurry your pace, catching up to him.  He is still muttering to himself, head down, a soft layer of snow dusting his jacket and hood.  It must be all over your head but you hardly feel the cold.  Your mind is on warmth, that stupid heart of yours suddenly flooded with it. 

You want this to be good for him, even if he would never outright ask for you to be kind.  It is all the more reason to make sure you are.  You really were such an idiot. 

Your grip is firm but not rough, hand curling protectively over his shoulder.  This touch invites more than demands. 

He stops in place, looking at you with a wary glare.  It disappears when you swoop in.  His hood falls as you tug him close.  He goes without protest, lips parting under yours with a claiming so heated that the cold does not stand a chance against you. 

You try to keep it romantic, a rare act of restraint on your part, but the supposed good boy drags the zipper of your coat down, down, down, then grabs your belt and tugs.  You stumble, uncharacteristically shaky, gasping against his lips when he grinds his knuckles against the zip of your jeans. 

“Tsk,” he says, lips still brushing yours.  “Not prepared.” 

“I was planning on sitting around feeling sorry for myself,” you say, with a helpless laugh despite his teasing.  You grab his wandering hand, leading it away from your crotch.  You are eternally grateful your dick is the kind you can leave in your sock drawer, because resisting him right now would have been impossible otherwise.     

“Trust me,” you say.  “I’ll make up for it.”

“Fine,” he says.  “I will.  You better not let me down.”  He looks at you when he says this, as close to imploring as Seungmin ever does. 

You feel the weight of that trust.  You nod, swallowing, looking at his lips, full and pink from the hard press of your kiss.  You lean in for more when he abruptly zips your coat again, all the way up to your chin so he smacks your jaw. 

“Come on then,” he says with that mean little laugh as he scampers away, grinning at you.  “Are you gonna prove it or not?” 

It is a short drive back to the cabin, and a torturous one to boot.  Not because Seungmin touches you, but because he doesn’t, and he won’t let you touch him either.  You try to put a hand on his knee but every attempt is rebuffed.  All you get is that cheeky grin or a glare, then a mere flick of his wrist as he brushes you away like lint.

Somehow it is more maddening than a direct touch.  You can feel him everywhere just by his proximity.  He even jumps out of the car before you unbuckle your seatbelt.  He is inside the cabin before you reach the door. 

You are panting from the sprint up the driveway, trying to keep up, not entirely convinced he won’t play you for a sucker and run right out the back door.  It would be like Seungmin to make you chase him up the mountainside.  You wouldn’t blame him for making you prove yourself, considering what an ass you were. 

But he is waiting inside the cabin.  Everyone else is out for the night and should be gone for hours.  When you close the door, sealing out the cold and the world, this cabin feels flush with more heat than you know what to do with. 

You do not hesitate. The tantalizing promise of more is like a touch on its own, heightened by his stubborn refusal to give you anything easily.  It makes catching him that much more satisfying, that soft sound all the sweeter when you pull him into your arms and finally steal that kiss. 

His skin is cool from the weather but his mouth is warm, the kiss searing hot.  He digs his blunt nails into the arms of your jacket, pressing the whole length of his hard body against yours. 

You remember his unexpectedly tender places, how just a faint stroke behind his ear will have him curling into you, how looping some hair around your fingers and tugging will deepen the rumbling sound that spills past his lips.  

You unzip his coat while kissing, licking into him while he scrambles to help strip.  The coat hits the floor in a damp heap.  You separate for just a moment, giving him the chance to tug his hoodie up and off.  You toss your own jacket over the nearby couch, then hook your fingers into his belt loops and pull him close.  

His hair is in an endearing state of dishevelment and he looks flushed from the rush of warmth after the chill.  Just looking at him like this has you throbbing.  You try to imagine telling the old you that you would feel that way, that the annoying friend-of-a-friend who mutually hated your guts would be looking at you like he wants to devour you and let you return the favour. 

You can’t imagine believing it.  Now it feels completely natural, letting him walk you backwards until your back hits the wall and his chest is pressed to yours, rising and falling with the quickness of his breath. 

He is looking aside, contemplatively.  You cup his jaw and draw him back to you, unable to resist a breathless laugh when he nips at your fingers.  You do not shy away or let go, and that seems to placate him.  He practically melts against you, your hand curving around the shape of his cheek, lowering to curl gently around the side of his neck.

“We should go upstairs,” you say.  The stairs are right beside you, but somehow the bedroom seems too far.  

Impossibly, ridiculously far, when Seungmin flicks some hair out of his eyes and looks at you intensely. 

“Don’t you want me on my knees?”  he asks. 

Your response is not a real word, just a rough sound.  He smirks, but is still flushed and a little shaky as he sinks onto his knees.  He gets your belt open, tugs it free, and tosses it to the side.  The sight of him licking his lips has you seeing stars before he even leans in. 

You brush some of his hair back, looking down at his face as he focusses on unzipping your jeans.  He has the fly down when you catch your breath and your senses. 

You gather the hair at his nape in your fist and tug, firm and sharp.  His mouth falls open and his breath stutters, eyes so dark and lips so wet and plush that you are tempted to drive his face right between your legs, where is obviously offering to be. 

But that’s not how you want to do this, not yet.   You move from his hair to his neck, wrapping your hand around his throat and watching his eyelashes flutter with surprise.  There is always a breath of panic in that surprise, adrenaline fueling the flood of desire that follows.  He is visibly hard, straining in those sinful jeans, breathing harder as you none-too-nicely push him down onto the stairs. 

“What are you doing,” he says, though it sounds like less like a question than acceptance.  Continue, waving his hand like a prince on silk sheets even though he is sprawled on his back on the staircase.    

“Making it worth your while,” you say.  He is not wearing a belt because these jeans are made for his body, snug and perfect and fitted everywhere, so it is just a matter of unbuttoning—

Oof. 

He plants his foot on your chest like last time, pushing you back.  He blinks innocently.    

“Shoes first,” he says. 

You smile, though it less playful than predatory, a promise in the flash of your teeth.   You nonetheless obey his silly whim as you tug off one shoe than the other.  It leaves a damp patch on your shirt which he remarks on.   You roll your eyes but tug your shirt off, sports bra following. 

The second time you push him down, you are even less nice.  You gather his hands in yours and pin them above his head, holding him there when he squirms ineffectively. 

“You’re kind of a brat,” you say, yanking his zipper down.  “Anyone ever tell you that?”

“You,” he says, panting around the word.  “Jerk.” 

You laugh, then cover his mouth with yours, swallowing the moan that takes him by surprise.  His hips buck towards you when you reach into those jeans to take him in hand.  He wriggles in your hold, arms straining while his hips lift toward you for more, following the snapping rhythm of your hand.  You trace the dick piercings that caught you by surprise last time, the metal smooth under your rolling thumb. 

You only release him when you duck down, tasting for yourself, relishing in the sounds that spill out of him.  He claws at your bare shoulder, spreading his legs to make room for you to lay between them.  His head falls back, resting on the step above while you work him in your mouth. 

“I’m—I’m—”  His voice gets lighter, breathier, his orgasm hitting him all at once.  He throws an arm over his face instinctively, head thrown back, hips lifting.  It catches you by surprise, making you choke just a bit, but he is already coming so you ride it out.   

He is still twitching when he finishes, gasping behind his arm when you roll a thumb around his piercing again.  When he hisses, knees jerking, you let go. 

Knowing him better than you ever thought you would, you move, stretching out alongside him.  You tug him into your arms and he goes without hesitation, burying his face in your neck.  You snake a hand under his shirt, stroking his back affectionately. 

Once more, you are genuinely endeavouring to be sweet. 

Once more, he shoves his hand down your pants. 

“Hello—”  It is all you manage before he is touching you, finding all that wet desire and rubbing a little haphazardly.  It makes you laugh and you grab his wrist, slowing him down.  “Easy,” you say, showing him a better pace.  “Just like that is good.” 

He learns quickly.  It was the same last time.  Every idea you introduced, he contemplated, experimented, then excelled.  With just a nudge now, he skillfully obliges.  He is breathing hard against your throat, pressed so close to your whole body, his fingers finding all your secrets and working them out.  You slide a hand down his backside, squeezing a handful of his ass.  The sound he makes has you coming faster than usual.

He puts his hand on your thigh, then lifts his head and grins at you.  

“I’m still winning,” he says.

“It’s still not a contest,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow. 

“It is,” he says.  “And I’m winning.” 

“I see.”

You scoop him into your arms and cart him up the stairs.  He situates himself by the time you reach the bedroom, legs around your waist and arms around your shoulder.   

“Still winning?” you ask. 

“Obviously,” he replies. 

You shake your head and sigh but with no real animosity, just like his smirk is more playful than vicious.  You still whole-heartedly believe he is capable of catching you off guard, so you are prepared for the brat switch to flip at the slightest provocation. 

You drop him onto the bed with a gentle thump, then cross your arms and look down at him. 

“Can I leave you unsupervised for two minutes while I get my dick?” you ask. 

“I don’t know,” he says, blinking innocently.  “Can you?” 

“Probably not,” you say, but retreat nonetheless.   Your equipment is in your travel bag.  You left it behind when you went to the bar because you were not in the mood for a hook-up, which should have been the first sign you were hopeless.  You were already in waters far too deep when you tried reaching for that shitty life preserver.  Learning to swim is not easy but infinitely more rewarding. 

You change into packing boxers and tuck your toy into it, buttoning up the pocket.  You grab some lube and a towel, then walk back to his bedroom, certain that he has somehow caused trouble in the five minutes it took to do all that. 

He’d naked.  Of course he is.  Sitting where you left him, perched on the edge of the bed, but his clothes are folded in a pile on the dresser and he has nothing but a bedsheet pulled over his lap.  He is not wearing his usual cheeky expression, though, and you are about to ask if something is wrong.  Then he says, “I’ve never done this before.” 

“Oh,” you say.  “That’s fine.”  It is the unthinking response, automatic as the admission is not too surprising.  You live in a world where strap-ons and gender games are the norm, so sometimes you forget that most people consider it inherently kinky or an anomaly.  A lot of men are new to it.  Seungmin didn’t even know what was packing was when you first mentioned it. 

But then he says, “Any of it.” 

And you say, “Huh?” 

“I’ve never done,” he says slowly, “any of this.” 

“Any.”

“Any.”

It takes a long minute to compute.  You think about his clumsy touches and experiments followed by his quick learning.  Unabashed and unjudgmental regardless of what he encountered.  Testing and figuring himself out just as much as you. 

“Oh,” you say.  Then, “Oh.  Fucking shit.  I’m such an asshole.” 

Because that was his first time doing anything with someone, and you just walked out the door without a word the next morning. 

He does not look upset about it anymore.  In fact, he laughs, though he tries to hold it back.  It turns into a snort he barely catches, amused eyes gazing up at you. 

“Yeah,” he says.  “You are.  We already knew that.” 

“I really, I just—” 

“Can you shut up and come take my virginity before I get beatified for involuntary chastity?”

“But you’re so fucking hot,” you blurt. 

It is obviously not the retort he anticipated, because he blushes profusely, which is not the response you expected. 

He clears his throat and looks away, rolling his eyes to compensate for the obvious vulnerability. 

“Thanks,” he says.  “Stating the obvious.  I’m also picky.  And apparently I scare people.”

“Scare them?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow.  “Who’d be scared of you?”

“Evidently not you,” he says.  His tone is snarky but he looks at you, up and down, and the look is a thoughtful one.  “Not ever.” 

Agh.  There’s that heart again, pounding away.  Who knew that thing could race so fast. 

“Well,” you say, finally putting the bottle and towel on the bedside table.  “That is their loss.  Not everyone is built for chasing luxury, I guess.” 

“Luxury,” he says with another snort, grinning despite himself.  “I’m high-end,” he says it like a fact, not a question.

“Naturally,” you say, approaching where he is sitting. 

“I’m going to be honest,” he says, eyes wandering your body before landing on your face.  “I thought you were going to be weird and egotistical about being with a virgin.” 

It suddenly pings in your head that you are his first, that there is a certain responsibility that comes with that.  That the wrong person could make this terrible for him.  That you want to make sure it feels better than anything he could dream.  These thoughts are completely and truly unselfish. 

And there is one admittedly egotistical and selfish thought, of making him irrevocably yours with one really good fuck. 

He glares when he sees the look on your face, his lips pursed, though a breath of a laugh escapes nonetheless. 

“Wow!” he says.  “You’re a pig, go away.”

“No, no, I’m not, I swear!” you say, laughing. 

He laughs too but shakes his head, pushing you away when you reach for him.  “No way,” he says.  “You and your ego.  Gross.” 

“Please, I promise,” you say, getting on your knees and lacing your hands together like a praying supplicant.  “I’ll be so normal,” you say.  “I have no ego at all.”

“You’re the worst,” he says dryly. 

“Yeah, but…”  You wiggle your eyebrows at him.  “You kinda like me anyway, right?” 

It is a more vulnerable question than you thought it would be.  It prompts him to look at you, really look at you, before he huffs and rolls his eyes. 

“Unfortunately,” he says. 

You giggle and he swats your head. 

“Are we just going to sit here all night and look at each other?” he asks, crossing his arms. 

“No, no, of course not,” you say.  You get back on your feet, standing bedside so you are looming over him. 

“What are we doing then?” he asks.   

“Well, you know what we’re doing,” you say, laughing when he rolls his eyes and huffs again. 

You reach out, cupping his face in both your hands and guiding him to look up at you.  Your heartbeat hammers away not only in your chest but everywhere else, a rapid current of heat that thunders most prominently between your legs as shiny dark eyes gaze up at you amorously from such a suggestive vantage.  

“First, before anything else, this.”  You speak in a lower voice, watching his spine straighten as the sound.  You run your thumb across his bottom lip like you did earlier, except this time it is a bruised pink from kissing.  It really makes you feel like that extra weight in your boxers is coming to life, connected to you intimately, ready and wanting as you are.  Especially when you tug on that bottom lip, when he leans towards your hand like he needs it, needs you. 

“Now,” you say. “Now I want you on your knees.” 

There is a sharp intake of breath before he nods, subtly, then shifts.  The sheets falls away from his lap, revealing he is already half-hard again.  There are goosebumps along his skin, from his nudity and the chill or just anticipation. 

Last time, he needed almost no direction.  He followed his own instinct, logically deducing that the part of the toy you could feel was the part at the base, closest to your body.  He uses his usual deductions when unbuttoning your boxers, taking a second to first press the base of the toy against you before leaning back and opening his mouth. 

It is not easy to come like this, but you are so worked up that it might happen.  It does not matter if you do.  It is not always about chasing the perfect orgasm.  This time, it is touch and sensuality.  He lets you teach him, rather than stampeding like last time.  You wonder if his heart is pounding given how red the tips of his ears are, blood rushing everywhere in a hurry.  You hold his face and slide back and forth, taking your time getting wet, both yourself and the toy, pushing him a little further each time. 

When his mouth is full and he blinks slowly, contently, every bratty remark and combative tone far from his mind, you smile and tug his hair.  He moans and you push a little more, gliding back and forward again. 

“You’re a fast learner,” you say.  “Bet you could get used to this.” 

It is a testing tease, to great success if the returned moan is anything to go by.  He squeezes his eyes shut and starts touching himself, finally moving his head instead of letting you guide him.  Before he gets too lost in the rhythm, you ease him back.  You smile and rub your thumb across his shiny lips as he blinks up at you.    

“Come here,” you say, and kiss him. 

He falls into the kiss, arms wrapping around you as you lay down with him.  He is eager in the searching heat of the kiss, long and deep and hungry.   You get on your back and pull him on top of you, give him one more drawn-out kiss with a filthy wet lick into his mouth, then smile. 

“Turn around,” you say.  “Keep going.”

It takes him a second to work out what you mean, but he really is a fast learner.  Soon he is laying on top of you, face where it was before, mouth wrapping around the end of your dick and his fingers searching beneath it to stroke you directly. 

You snatch the lube off the table and wet your fingers then him, taking it slow and easy, using your mouth and spit then more lube until everything is slippery and he gives in so easily into you.  He is breathing hard down between your legs, resting his cheek on your thigh and no longer using his mouth on you.  His eyes are closed and his hips are rocking, focussed on the sensations that you are certain are overwhelming him. 

You move him around, at which point he comes to attention, looking back at you.  This is the quietest he has ever been, all the action in his heart as you expected; you can feel it racing when you touch his chest.  

You lay him down in front of you, sidling up behind him.  You lay a hand on the wildly fluttering race of his pulse, throat cupped in your palm.  You turn his face to kiss him, your wet hand stroking your wet dick.  You probably should have thrown that towel down before getting started.  The sheets are a mess already. 

“Ugh, hurry up,” he says, reaching back to smack your thigh.  “You’re the worst.  I hate you.” 

You laugh.  Oh well.  No time to worry about bedsheets.  You give his throat a gentle squeeze and smile at the noise he makes, strained and needy, his hips rearing back into you. 

“What?” you ask, sliding the toy down his backside.  “You want something?”

“I will bury you in the mountain pass,” he says.  “They’ll think it was a skiing accident.  And that you got mauled by a bear.  And eaten by wolves.  And—”

To be honest, having him distracted and rambling is for the best.  It means he is more relaxed, not so focussed when you finally start pushing in.  Of course, he feels it pretty fast, and instinctively rebels.  You stop clutching his throat and hold an arm across his chest instead, holding him protectively and kissing that sweet spot behind his ear.  His groaning turns into a whine. 

“Okay?” you ask. 

“Gonna kill you,” he says. 

“That a yes?”

“Yes.” 

“Thank you.”  You hook a hand under his leg and pull it up, giving yourself leverage, then fuck into him completely.  His whine turns to a sharp yelp, hand scrabbling against the arm on his chest.  You let him catch his breath and adjust.  “Still okay?” 

“It’s weird,” he says. 

“Bad weird?”

“No,” he says.  “It’s… it’s good.  It’s just…”  You move a little and his whole body clenches then loosens.  He makes a strangled noise but softens in your arms, though his nails have dug a pretty picture into your skin.  You are surprised he hasn’t drawn blood.  “Ugh,” he says.  “It’s so wet.  I feel like a river rafting ride.”

“Not… what most people usually say… but okay…” 

“I’m… not… most people.”

“No,” you say, kissing that spot again and finally moving your hips.  “You’re not.” 

You are not sure if his little sound of submission is in response to your actions or your words, but with it he seems to all at once open to you.  You find a rhythm, holding his hand when his fingers search for yours on his chest.  He ends up biting your arm, which you should have seen coming, but it’s fine because you leave a visible bite mark on his neck in return. 

At that he gets into it, meeting the pace you set, altering it to what he wants.  It is a good thing the house is empty because you are not quiet at all.  If your fooling around was enough to send an aggravated Minho storming after you, then this probably would have led to him burning the cabin down. 

The thought makes you snicker, which makes Seungmin ask what is so funny, so you tell him then he laughs too. 

“Ugh, stop making me laugh,” he says. 

“You can laugh while making love,” you say, kissing his neck.  “It’s okay.” 

That does not make him laugh but it does make him sigh.  “Making love, huh,” he says dryly.  “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“It didn’t,” you say, finding another sweet spot that has his whole body rearing into yours.  “I guess I’m a fast learner too.”

“Ew, you’re so annoying,” he says, but squeezes your fingers in his hand. 

“I think you’re not getting fucked right if you’re still this bratty,” you say playfully, prompting him to roll his eyes. 

“What are you gonna do about it?  Make love at me?  Sap.” 

You laugh, kiss his neck, then move away to roll him onto his back.  He wriggles a bit, surprised with the change and sudden emptiness.  His legs part easily when you move between them, but you still snap, “Spread.  Good.”  Because it makes him swallow hard, his dark eyes sparkling and his mouth bruised, hair mussed and body flushed.  He is already a fucked out sight, but he wants more, and you give it. 

You snap your hips together and fuck into him.  This time you do hold his throat, gently, not repressing air but showing control.  He holds your forearm with both hands, his face scrunching up, eyes closed as he focusses in that intense way of his.  He breathes hard, makes sweet sounds, and not a single antagonistic or bratty word leaves his pretty mouth. 

“I think I’m finally winning,” you tease, to which he just makes a hiccupping sound of pleasure.  “Yeah, that’s right.” 

You hold his ridiculously pretty dick and give it the expert treatment it deserves.  The combination of sensations has him throwing his head back, clawing your arm as you work him in your head.  You cannot feel the end of the toy, but there is a magic in this kind of fucking, and when he comes and he clutches your arm and he screams your name, when the muscles in his abdomen clench and you know he is feeling sensation in every part of his body, you can feel him wrapped around you, wholly and completely, like you could feel him when he wasn’t even touching you at all. 

He writhes almost desperately as you keep touching him until he can’t take it anymore, then you ease him down and pull back. 

“Good?” you ask, sitting back, looking down at him, blissfully fucked out and dishevelled. 

“Yes,” he murmurs.  “I won. Again.” 

“Gonna need to supply me with that rubric one of these days,” you say. 

“Meh-meh-meh,” is the half-hearted retort, delving to a sleepy sigh. 

 “Gotta take care of yourself before you go to sleep,” you say, though you have a feeling it’s a losing battle, his eyelids already heavy. 

“That’s what you’re for,” he grumbles. 

That damn heart really does have a mind of its own.  It has clearly decided to make its presence known whenever it damn well pleases. 

You run your fingers through his messy hair, smiling when he blinks up at you. 

You tidy him up then scoop him into your arms to carry him to your bed, because that one is not a filthy sex nest.  He wakes a little on the journey.  And when you lay down and pull a sheet up, he rolls towards you and throws an arm and a leg around you, pinning you to the bed. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say.  “I promise.”

“Good,” he says.  “You’re too stupid to be out there on your own.” 

You laugh in spite of yourself, shaking your head, but you put an arm around him and nod. 

“You’re right,” you say. 

“Of course I am.”  He snuggles in close and sighs.  “Now go the fuck to sleep.  Your dick is in the sink so you have no excuse.  Good night.”  

“Good night,” you say with a laugh. 

I think I won too, you almost say, but decide let him believe he is the only winner for now, because he is already falling asleep with his head on your shoulder.   

You can tell him in the morning. 

#kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin smut #skz smut #skz x reader

[bl--ankhaeji]

Best Friends? (Doyoung)

Pairing~ Kim Doyoung x BestFriend!Reader

Genre~ Smut but with slight plot because it was supposed to be more than this

Warnings~ Unprotected sex, Creampie, Multiple orgasms, oral Fem!receiving, quite a bit of degredation from dom-ish Doie, oh extreme usage of the nickname Doie 😂, little bit of brat tamer Doyoung towards the end, that's all I can think of rn if you need more lmk

A.N~ been writing on this mf for literally most of this year this idea came around like mid February bro , just never was able to finish till now. I forced myself to keep going cause I haven't released something in ages and I was tired of this sitting it the drafts. Also told myself I wouldn't change my theme again till I released something new sooo.

W. Count~ 2,534

Your back was screaming at you from the position you were in draped over Doyoung but the feeling of his warmth kept you from even thinking about moving.

“AHHHHH, I’m bored. What’s something to talk about?” You whine completely forgetting about the movie on screen until you hear a breathy moan come from the actress’s mouth leading into a raunchy sex scene between the two leads. “Must be nice. I can’t remember the last time I got fucked. What about you Doie?” maneuvering your head to look at said male it’s safe to say you caught him off guard. You watch the expression on his face go from normal to flustered in a matter of milliseconds. So flustered that you could even see a little fog building on his glasses.

Of course, you already knew the answer to that question; you just liked getting him flustered. After a few seconds of him muttering incomprehensible sounds, you decide to put him out of his misery. “Awww you’re so cute.” You say in the same tone as if you were speaking to a small child whilst simultaneously pinching his cheeks, “It’s okay Doie you don’t have to answer, I already know that you don’t fuck unless you’re in a relationship with that person.”

Sitting up you watch his mouth close at your words and the look in his eyes made you feel like you just kicked a puppy. “No, Doie I didn’t mean it like that honestly. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be in a relationship with that person, I actually find it really commendable. Lord knows I wouldn’t be able to go without sex in between relationships.” You breathe out, “Sometimes you gotta cum so bad it hurts, and touching yourself doesn’t always cut it, y’know what I mean? Like now, I would love to be able to cum right now but I can't. It's a little frustrating but I can just find someone to handle it for me.”

You survey your friend’s face wanting to make sure you weren’t just making the situation worse from your ramblings. But the look you find instead shakes you to your core. Doyoung’s eyes now bore with an intensity you’ve never really seen there before. “Doie. Are you okay? Did I take it too far-?”

Pushing up his glasses he turns to look at you, “I can make you cum.” he says with the calmest and most serious expression you had probably ever seen on his face.

“I-” You get interrupted by another moan coming from the tv signifying that the couple had “finished”. How ironic. Turning the tv down you turn to Doyoung to see the expression still on his face and you couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. “Haha that’s funny Doie,” You raise your hand placing it on his shoulder, “but I don’t want you getting in over your head. I have the strong inkling that we both partake in two different ranges of sex.” You say with the strong feeling that he preferred more vanilla type sex and while you aren’t exactly a BDSM conosuier you did prefer a rougher type of sex.

“Plus I don’t really think you could make me cum anyways-” It all happens so fast and before you can finish your thought you’re on your back with your forearm caught in the gentle death grip of one Kim Doyoung. His eyes now more intense than ever never waver from your own as his jaw clenched tightly.

“You wanna bet.”

Doyoung’s unoccupied hand comes up to your waist going under your shirt, gripping it firmly leaving a trail of sparks against your skin. It didn’t help that all you had on at the moment were booty shorts and a big T-shirt. He lowers his head to your neck leaving barely there kisses, his hands roughly palming the expanse of your waist. You instinctively tilt your head back giving him more space as a low sigh leaves your lips and he starts to work his mouth towards the other side of your neck.

“Doie-”

“Shut up.” He spits curtly before you can properly finish your sentence. His hand moves lower to the waistband of your shorts lowering them as he starts to make his way down your body. Letting go of your wrist he slips your T-shirt up your body until it lays on top of your breasts and he splays wet kisses against your stomach. With your pants all the way off he positions himself in between your legs.

“D-doie, you don’t have to do this. I really didn’t mean anything by what I said. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings-”

He cuts you off once again, “Shhh, Let me eat.” His hands secure themselves to your groin, “You’re so damn wet for me baby just couldn’t control yourself could you?” he taunts as he pulls you directly onto his waiting mouth. His lips automatically latch onto your clit sucking before his tongue delivers small kitten licks to the bundle of nerves. Your body convulses out of sheer surprise as your legs try to close on his head.

“Ah Doie, shit.” What the fuck was happening? One second you and your best friend Doyoung were cuddling on the couch and now he’s knuckles deep inside you bringing you to the brink of orgasmic insanity for one of what you think may be many orgasms. His slender fingers curl inside you rubbing against the spongy walls of your tight hole and you couldn’t help but succumb to the pleasure.

A moan escapes his mouth as your juices flow directly into his awaiting mouth. You don’t notice Doyoung intently looking at you as you ride the wave of pure bliss. “Fuck you taste so damn good.” He raises up to meet you face to face, his fingers still working magic on your poor pussy bringing you close to the edge faster due to the sensitivity. “Look at me bunny, you’re so cute panting like a little whore for me.” he coos his unoccupied hand cradling your face.

He leans down pressing heated kisses to your neck, his hand moving to massage your breasts, “What was that about me not being able to make you cum baby.” A soft whine leaves your lips as he kisses your sweet spot, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. His fingers stop moving inside you and you can’t help but clench hopelessly around them. “Use your words bunny.”

Unable to form a coherent reply you start apologizing profusely, “Aww are you sorry baby?” His condescending tone should make you angry but instead, it just makes you want him more. His hand comes up wrapping itself tightly around your neck. “Well, maybe next time you’ll learn to think before you speak.” He punctuates his sentence by harshly pinching your clit giving it slight tugs causing you to yelp involuntarily. Your body convulses under his, the sudden onslaught of pleasure slowly becoming a lot to handle.

Not only that but the fact that you can’t help but start to look at your best friend who you thought you know the in’s and out’s of in a different light. It’s as if his whole person did a 180 and you don’t know if you can go back to looking at him as your cute best friend after this. As soon as that thought crosses your mind you find yourself cumming again, you let out a moan that was more scream than anything before you feel Doyoung’s lips land on yours.

You run your hands down Doyoung’s body grabbing at anything and everything you can feel on him. Making your way to his pants you start pulling them down reaching to grab his dick, a groan leaves Doyoung’s mouth when he picks up on what you’re doing. “Fuc-ah you can’t help but be a needy little whore can you?” He straightens up, pulling the rest of his clothes completely off before stroking his dick languidly. You move to sit up on your elbows in an effort to get a complete view of a sight you never thought you’d see. Doyoung starts moving back towards you, his body covering yours as you slowly lay back down. Though you think it’s dumb to even attempt considering at this point but even now you’re wondering if you guys could still be best friends after this.

“I’m telling you right now bunny, once I fuck you there’s no going back. Do you want this?” That question is one that surprisingly doesn’t take you long to answer because you find yourself saying yes before you can even comprehend it. In an instant Doyoung has your body cradled against his before he flips you both. Your body now sits atop his as his nimble fingers caress every part of it they can reach, “Ride me baby.”

You feel him twitch under you as you lift yourself above him. You feel your juices run down your hand when you connect his tip to your entrance. Lowering yourself the tip partially makes it in, you hear a harsh intake of breath leave Doyoung’s lips before you lift back up pulling him out again. Running the tip up and down your lips you make eye contact with Doyoung and you can see the irritation clear as day across his beautiful features, an impish grin takes over your face. “Stop.” He commands looking at you warningly.

You lift an eyebrow, “And if I don’t? What are you gonna do, huh?” you ask, challenging him.

You see his eyes light up at your statement, and you can feel your heart rate spike out of sheer excitement. His hands tighten on your sides and a breath of laughter leaves his lips as you do the same process over again. You slide the tip inside, but before you can think Doyoung’s hands that grip your waist forcefully pull you down while he thrusts up making you take all of him at once.

The quick action pulls a guttural sound from deep within as you can already feel how he fills you up completely. “You were so good for me earlier, bunny, then you had to go and be such a brat and I don’t tolerate brats.” he spits once again pulling you down on his while simultaneously thrusting up into you leaving you whining profusely. “I even gave you a chance to control the flow but since you want to be a little bitch I guess I have to show you how I deal with brats such as yourself.”

You feel your body lift slightly as Doyoung plants his feet on the bed and you know you’re in for it. That first thrust had you feeling as if liquid fire was pulsing through your veins. The sound of skin slapping increases as Doyoung plows into you harder and you have no choice but to take it. Your broken moans filled with incoherent curses fill the room as you can feel your peak nearing. Your lower hips start grinding unconsciously and you can feel your stomach tightening the closer you get.

You close your eyes reveling in the overwhelming pleasure before you feel burning heat on one of your ass cheeks. Doyoung delivers another powerful hit to your ass before you feel him grab your chin, “Eyes on me baby, don’t you dare look away.” All it takes is that final hit to your backside and you’re left a trembling mess above him. Your orgasm takes over your entire being, hands fisting the sheets in a futile effort to find some sort of grounding. You cry out Doyoung’s name considering it’s the only thing on your mind.

You feel his thrusts stop as he resituates himself against the bed frame. Grabbing your face Doyoung moves you to look at him, “You look so pretty all fucked out like this for me. I bet no-one can fuck you like I can, isn’t that right bunny?” You can’t help but moan in agreeance nodding your head because he’s right, no-one has ever fucked you like this and you don’t think anyone else ever will. “Mmh look at you, so strung that you can’t even speak. Too bad I want you to not even be able to think. I think you got one more in you don’t you sweetie?” he leaves no time for you to answer before he starts thrusting into you again, and while the overstimulation hurts you still find yourself well on your way to another orgasm.

Doyoung thrusts up into you slower yet more precisely than last time. It doesn’t take long for him to find your G-spot and it feels like your soul leaves your body when he does. His calculated powerful thrusts hit your spot every time and you can’t hold on any longer.

“Doie, cum-ah. I cum.”

“Just a little longer baby I’m right there.” His hands grab a fistful of your hair forcing your back to arch while he bites at your exposed neck. He speeds up his thrusts with any set rhythm thrown out the window as he chases your highs. You feel your eyes roll into the back of your head as your nails dig into his back. Doyoung's thrusts falter, “Go ahead and cum for me my sweet baby.” A scream that leaves the back of your throat feeling almost raw comes from your body and you cum for the last time. Doyoung brokenly moans into your ear as he fills you up with his cum. You lean tiredly against him as he rests against the headboard.

You can feel the mixture of your guy’s cum leaking out of your worn out hole as you fight sleep. After a little while Doyoung softly places you onto the bed as he walks into the bathroom. He comes back with a wet towel using it to clean you up as best as possible. Putting the towel away he comes back and lays behind you automatically encircling his arms around you.

“Doie,” You pause, not knowing how to ask what’s been on your mind this entire time. “Are we still gonna be friends after this?” At this moment you’re so glad that he can’t see your face, so he can’t see what you’re really feeling even though knowing him he can probably tell just by your voice.

He turns you around to face him, his eyes scanning for yours. “I thought I told you earlier. I said there was no going back after this.”

“I know and that’s why-”

“No, you don’t. I meant you’re gonna be mine and mine only, sexually, romantically, platonically, and any other way you can think of, my own personal little slut; no more sleeping around because I don’t like to share what’s mine, do you understand? You are mine just as I am yours, no if, ands, or buts about it.”

Your mind couldn’t formulate a proper response so you did the only thing you knew you could. Taking his face into your hands you bring your lips together. All of the things you couldn’t get across you put into the kiss hoping, praying he understood, and you know he did.

#nct #nct 127 #nct doyoung #kim doyoung #nct u #nct smut #doyoung smut #doyoung x reader #kim doyoung smut #kim doyoung x reader #MY STORIES #nct 127 doyoung

[dailytatsu]

Hello! I love your writing and I recently saw a post of yours about the reader being the God Of Chaos and I was wondering if you could make a part two with characters of your choice, if it’s not that much of a trouble! Remember to drink water and rest well <3

Tysm! I’m really happy to see that a lot of you enjoyed it, and being honest, chaos reader now have a special place in my heart lol

Then let’s write a second part! Hope everyone likes these as well! ( ✌︎'. ')✌︎

Thanks for the request!✨

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[II - HC] God of Chaos! Reader & Genshin Characters

Characters: Bennett, Tartaglia, Scaramouche, Ganyu, Chongyun

Gn! Reader

Sorry for any mistakes!

Request are open!

Genshin Masterlist

<- First part

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BENNETT

First of all, how dare u

This boy already has a chaotic life for you to arrive and making it worse.

But being honest, it wasn’t intentional, just like always.

Besides he’s a kid. The chaos of a kid + chaos of his bad luck, I mean- how were you not supposed to meet him?

That day was really strange, for the very first time the chaos wasn’t attracted by you, but you were attracted to chaos. Like a moth following a lantern on the street, something that you felt like you had to do, some kind of childish curiosity that guide your way to find Bennett in the middle of his adventure.

Poor boy was charging his pyro attack to max until a barrel exploded near him, he flew in the air waiting for a rough landing before his trajectory sent him where you were standing, still looking for the origin of that uneasy sensation of curiosity.

Luckily for him you could see his shadow just in time to react. You looked up because of the strange silhouette on the ground next to you and there he was, surrounded by a cloud of smoke and fire, with his screams getting louder and louder as he falls.

You trapped him in your arms, with the situation turning even more strange when the first thing he said was “nice catch!” with the bright smile of his.

Like if his hair on fire wasn’t a big deal.

It’s raining men ig

Before you could ask anything, a crowd of angry hilichurls appeared from the same direction where Bennett came at first.

The white haired boy jumped off from your arms and tried to grasp your hand to run away together, but instead you pulled him near and then behind you before rising your hand to the front, pointing the stampede of furious creatures about to reach you both.

Not even a leaf fell from a tree before the hilichurls stopped, all of them felt your presence immediately, the primitive sensation of danger that meant a silent threat. Following the message that another camp of them told long ago, ‘get away from that stranger’.

Bennett was surprised, kind of scared at least. He wasn’t sure about how to call that feeling.

Are you a beast tamer?! Maybe an adventurer that discovered a secret about hilichurl’s behavior! Wait- where are you going? Don’t leave him behind, the doubt won’t let him sleep tonight!

You explained to him that it was dangerous for both to be near each other (more dangerous for him than for you), still you needed to get away. To protect Bennett and the other adventurers that were exploring nearby.

But why? He was so excited about meeting someone who could react that fast and precise! Like the heroes in the legends!

Please show him your ways, he’s begging you, how can you be rude to Bennett? That literally illegal.

When he heard that there was a God of Chaos exploring all over Teyvat like an errant he connected two points (even if there wasn’t a single thing to connect in first place).

You’re like him!

Hello ?? You’re literally ?? the most qualified to be part of Benny’s Adventure Team ??

Negative plus negative is positive, isn’t it? Maybe if you roam near Bennett his bad luck can collide with your chaos to neutralize each other!

You told him that you were leaving after that short conversation, but in reality you just hide from his sights and followed him from behind.

That kid really put you on your nerves, running into danger without knowing. Was that what Zhongli have to deal with every time you visit Liyue?

The old man really deserves an apology.

You’re not doing this an habit, of course not! You’re the all mighty God of Chaos, the ultimate troublemaker! How was even possible to think about wanting to protect a human just because he has bad luck? That’s ridic-

“Watch out!” You had to abandoned your hiding spot to reach Bennett again, pulling him away from the place where a bunch of hunter’s traps were. “Barbatos, why all your children have to be like this?…” You whispered for yourself, actually waiting for a answer, maybe a little too much because you didn’t free Bennett. His feet were just barely touching the ground.

“Oh, it’s you! Hello again!”

Enough of babysitting, that’s it, both of you are heading back to Mondstadt. This boy is a danger for himself, who allowed him to be an adventurer in first place?

After abandoned him in front of the city’s bridge you turn back to the forest, believing that it was the end, even if in the process your chaos took the life of some pigeons nearby.

Next morning you were sleeping peacefully on the branches of a huge old tree, feeling the wind of your bard friend greeting you from the distance.

Then a storm started out of nowhere; your fault.

And almost immediately you heard a cheerful voice below you, calling your name like a lost child searching for their parents.

As Bennett climbs the tree to talk with you a lightning strikes near enough to make both of you jump because of the surprise, falling from the branch and meeting each other on the mud below.

“Sorry, my bad.” Bennett and you said at the same time, to later laugh because of that.

It seems that both are more alike than you would expect

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TARTAGLIA

How do I explain that this guy already knew about you-

As you may suspect, yes, his only reason of wanting to meet you was to fight you.

The first step for taking the thrones of gods is beating one of the youngest, isn’t it? It would be a good start, and you’d be also one of the best opponents he ever fought! The only thing still needed was a way to make you accept his challenge.

Tartaglia’s first try was by attacking you without hesitation, not even a warning, just shooting an arrow for behind and waiting for you to counter. And yes, that didn’t go as planned, the rope of his bow snapped even before aiming.

It wouldn’t be that easy, the distance is always boring for a fight, why not just attacking directly?

Because you learned from Morax that you must not hurt mortals; the reason of your trip was for appreciate the human’s life, to understand why you exist, to have a reason to not end with everything that crosses your path.

To convince yourself that you’re not only destruction.

But it was hard to stay calm if he constantly provokes you to fight back. Always dodging, always running away, always breaking his weapons.

Barely holding yourself to not to break his Vision at this point.

Dodging one of his attacks again you ended up on top of a nearby structure by the side of the road, watching him from above and begging for him to stop for once.

Tartaglia clicked his tongue in annoyance, you would escape again. He was as sick as you of that senseless hunt. Maybe was the stress what impede him to think wisely, because his next strategy was like a death wish.

The water blades disappeared from his hands and, for the first time, he had a casual talk with you. Smiling and waving his hands to look relaxed.

Then he mentioned the incident with Osial, a event that almost became a tragedy. And the only reason you knew about that was because Morax told you about it, about his contract and the reason why he left his position as an Archon the next time you visited him.

It was your fault, isn’t it?

“… what?”

"As you heard! The conditions for summoning Osial was ideal, bringing back a sealed god filled with hatred and hungry for destruction couldn't have been possible if you hadn't been around Liyue that day.” His hand lifted to pointing at you, also smiling as your expression turned into a concerned one. “Oh, our God of Chaos, you were successfully satiated as the catastrophe filled the ocean! Bring us back the destruction, because it's the only thing you ever knew!”

He was obviously just mocking you, but still Tartaglia managed to actually make you think about it.

Your fault. Your chaos.

And even with that, Rex Lapis didn’t seal you or tried to eradicated you like the burden that you are for every nation.

It’s just a matter of time before you destroy all humane existence when you get bored of your fantasy of not being a spirit of chaos.

An infinity of negative and dark thoughts began to fill your mind.

It was sad, it was so sad that the erosion already began to have an effect on you being so young. You were afraid, you were concerned, the stress ate you inside while you tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t like he said.

Your mind collapsed, and you left the wrath take the control for the first time in centuries.

A fight? That’s all he wanted? Easy, that’s easy, just kill him and everything will end. His annoying voice won’t torment you ever again, his words won’t hurt ever again.

It’s easy, so easy. Mortal life is so easy to end.

He’ll defeat the gods, he’ll take their thrones and will witness the world’s end in the final battle he planned since his first encounter with the traveler.

But that day Tartaglia noticed the difference between your strength, it wasn’t huge, neither significant enough. But you were stronger, and it’s well known that wrath and despair can provide extra energy when it’s needed.

The perception of time disappeared, the world did too. Nature, men creation, everything will succumb against chaos, existence itself will be reduce to ashes.

That’s why you exist, to make sure there’s not too much heroes trying to make the nations a boring place. You just need to accept it!

But…

‘There’s no other way?’

The question sparkle inside your mind, bringing you back out of nowhere. There’s a lot of irregularities in the ground nearby, the land was broke for something that impacted with an inhuman strength, even the structure where you step on top was gone, just the remain of a building was left.

And your hands were holding something bland and soft, the warm sensation on your palms and the strange movements caught your attention to look down. Your hands were strangling Tartaglia.

From the other side his hands were trying to remove yours, his strength was minimal, not even able of closing his fingers around your wrist.

A expression full of pain and regretting of his decisions, question by question filling his mind while the air became harder to get.

A broken bow, his Vision has been thrown away. Now it was a human versus a god.

You took a step back, afraid of what you were about to do. You have to stay calm and quiet forever? To prevent catastrophe, to bring peace to mortals? Who’s the one you have to blame for creating you? How you could think that coexisting with humans was possible? Even if you say that you don’t want to make any problems you would stay near them.

“Just… leave me alone.”

Was the last thing you said, a whisper that wanted to apologize for a whole eternity, a regret that couldn’t be forgot. And then you left that place, escaping one last time.

But wait for him, Tartaglia thought, he didn’t need your compassion.

Sooner or later he would have his revenge.

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

SCARAMOUCHE

Finally! With Shogun Raiden’s gnosis on his possession and the all mighty hero of Mondstadt weakened there’s no way things can go wrong for him!

A little delay in his plans, but still a smile remained on his face. Kunikuzushi couldn’t wish for anything else right now.

But you already know what is going to happen next.

In this world exist Murphy’s Law?, because anything that could go wrong went wrong after he claim for victory. Even being far away of the factory it seemed that the karma reached him immediately.

He just got his guard down for a couple seconds, and then, whoshh. Now you see it, now you don’t. The gnosis disappeared from his pocket, not here, not there. The annoyance filled his chest and then a irritated growl came from his throat.

What in the world happened?

Scaramouche looked to a huge tree in front of him, and there you were. On your favorite place to sit, above from everyone else in a branch. Holding the gnosis as the board piece it looks like, playing throwing it up a little and then catching it again and again.

Who you think you are to act that carefree on his presence? If you wanted to die so bad then you could just have asked for it.

Even if he called you and made a question first you counter it with another one, what was he doing with that thing?

You were sick of those who defy the gods thanks to his ‘workmate’.

Scaramouche ordered you to give him the gnosis back, threats and insults came out from his mouth as a distraction; in reality, he was just ready to set the first hit from behind.

But something made him stop just in time when you talked again.

“I don’t care what you are planning, but if it involves the ones who I’m in debt with, you will surely fail.”

“Another clairvoyant? Hah, your type are more words than an actual subject matter, but I have to admit it, they’re also very skill to escape.”

“It was a warning.” You said, throwing again the gnosis, this time to his direction.

Scaramouche reacted in time to rise his arms but in midair something caught the chess-like piece before his fingers. Surprising him again and making the irritation event more unbearable.

It was a tanuki. The same that looked behind a second before running even deeper in the forest.

The chaos isn’t necessary a huge disaster; a little accident, an inconvenient, a failure, it depends time and place to be considered like a catastrophe.

Scaramouche had a killer gaze just for you in his face, in respond you smiled at him, then covered your mouth with both hands to fake surprise.

“What a shame! Better luck next time, gods defier.” Your laugh could be heard all over the woods, like a spectral echo that chased him his way to get back the gnosis.

He got it back after a few minutes of a stressful walk through the forest, found the tanuki dancing on a stone before disappearing again. When he got closer he found that piece, making sure it was the real one and not just another trick.

The following days he received endless reports of Fatui soldiers and entire camps being reduced to rubble aside lost or destroyed materials; it was a higher level sabotage done by who they said was someone of relatively young appearance in strange clothes, the one that enjoyed staring at them until something goes wrong.

Nobody could defeat them, not even get closer. And with that, Scaramouche knew they were talking about you.

Was that what you meant with “warning”? Who are you exactly? Not even holding a Vision, how could you… ?

A quick order was enough to deliver him a book full of ancient legends, part of the Fatui private collection. Texts that were lost and the world had forgotten, his only hope was that you weren't exactly mortal, and if that was the case they could take advantage of your nature.

Hah, he found you.

God of Chaos, a body sculptured by the blood and bodies of the ones who died in middle of the wars. At first they were just a being full of anger and affinity for taking the life of every living being on earth, until the same hand that created them gave them a human heart of their own. Made without any prior basis, without being the remains of the deceased. Something one of a kind, the mortal heart of a god.

When human emotions filled the vessel they were released into the world, to mourn over the spilled blood and to know how everything of their existence originates. Born from the red that stained the fields and being the bud that seemed withered, the same that now has the deepest roots ever found.

Hmm, that brings back some memories…

But hey, that vital energy could be useful.

Don’t be surprised if one day you wake up chained and feeling dizzy as Scaramouche drains your life. You know what? Just wait for it! Running away as you did with that idiot won’t work this time.

Every possibility can be foreseen, every inconvenience can be solved. And if you think that you’re an exception then you’re stupider than you look.

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

GANYU

Bold of you assume that Zhongli didn’t introduce you to everyone the first time you travel to Liyue.

The difference between your meeting was that it had to be really short. Ganyu is always busy so you couldn’t know her better before her duty called for her again.

Obviously you heard a lot of stories of her childhood thanks to Cloud Retainer. The day she knew about it Ganyu avoided you, next week she apologized with you about it. It was very rude, please pardon her.

Such a big sister vibes ngl

An Adeptus working that hard to human’s matters. It was so cool to follow her from a significant distance to see how was her routine.

If you could only live that peacefully near humans without causing any problem! What a dream! The envy was killing you.

Ganyu didn’t mind about you stalking her, the feeling of a companion was always present and she also knew that you had to keep some distance from everybody to not cause any accident. She appreciated your consideration.

Until a soldier from the millelith arrested you for harassment, wait- you’re innocent! Don’t get closer, hold on! Hold on!

The handcuffs broke almost immediately, though.

When Ganyu resolved the misunderstanding she hold your hands to apologize again, it had to be really stressful to be aware of any chaos you could create accidentally.

What if you… wait for her on the surroundings of the city?

Please, she have a lot of work, don’t interrupt her, she’s begging you.

Ganyu thought you heard her request, but she knew that you were just hiding when a window opened out of nowhere and a lot of documents flew away in the room.

You appeared hanging upside down from the other side of the window, jumped down and entered to pick up the documents. You hand her over all the pages and then you leave through the space on the wall.

“… I’ll be in Huaguang Stone Forest… ”

“Thank you.”

Even though you both agreed that you would return to the stone forest, she couldn't help but feel guilty as the hours passed, did you feel like a nuisance? Maybe she should apologize. Again.

When another successful day at work ended, she realized that repeating the same words over and over was not the best way to show her regret. That’s why a better idea formed in his head as she approached the abode of the rest of Adeptus.

Ganyu found you being scolded by Mountain Shaper for unintentionally releasing the trespassing intruders along with other creatures from their amber prisons.

After rescuing you again, she was able to propose her idea to you. With a calm and charming voice she asked you if you would like to learn about Liyue's traditions from the human perspective.

Sure, Zhongli could tell you about the beginning of traditions and festivities, but the way to celebrate them and pay tribute to the Adeptus was something that only a person who had lived among mortals for years could explain to you.

Your eyes shone in gratitude but no words really came out of your lips, kind of embarrassed you said some nonsensical things and then another amber cracked when you brushed its surface.

Mountain Shaper kicked you out without thinking twice.

But hey! The next day your classes on Culture from the Mortal Perspective began! A quick but calm walk through Liyue that got spread when a bunch of kids recognized you.

How could they not remember the person who plays with them every time they get a chance?

Ganyu sat by the side of the road on an empty bench, watching you scamper the children who seemed happy at your mere presence. Like the occasional accidents of a child, the curious and outlandish nature cannot be controlled, only accepted.

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

CHONGYUN

Don’t move! The future best exorcist in the world, Chongyun, will put an end to your legacy of misdeeds and pranks! No evil specter that causes bad luck will survive to-!

Just by lightly tapping with your fingertips you were able to break the seal of the talismans that surrounded you out of nowhere. Pushing back the boy who was convinced that he had beaten his yang.

how dare u interrupt him.

Another of Xingqiu’s pranks? Isn’t this going a little to far? He hadn’t learn about not believing everything his friend says smh.

Let’s just mess with him a little.

‘Measure your words, human. In the presence of the God of Chaos, the first thought that should run through your mortal instinct is to beg for your life, since those who dare to defy them will be punished and displayed as a trophy in the infinity of the abyss from which the catastrophe came out.’

You took a few steps closer to him, while Chongyun kept backing away. The scene was so dramatic that you had to stop when the boy summoned his sword.

Haha jk, nice to meet u.

It's nice to know that there are still such dedicated exorcists out there.

But wait-, so you're not an evil spirit? A God? Why is there a god causing accidents all over Liyue!? That makes no sense! If you think you can deceive him by pretending to be a deity then he shall punish you severely for disrespecting them!

After a detailed explanation of your identity, Chongyun's mood plummeted again due to another failure as an exorcist.

He sat silently on a rock and remained silent, his expression showed so well his disappointed that it made you feel like it was your fault.

Ohno, a sad human child, your weakness-

At the end you sat next to him to listen to what he had to say.

Did he really want to see a spirit so badly? Those things are horrible, wearing strange clothes and yelling all the time, buagh! The thought of it gives you chills. But there's nothing you can do, after all they are drawn to your chaos.

When you finished talking so indifferently about what you lived through from day to day, you looked back at Chongyun, finding his expressive eyes filled with astonishment and disbelief.

Are you a magnet of evil? Chaos and destruction? Demons and spirits alike appear wherever you go?

Then you stopped him, it wasn't something to take so lightly; there’s also the chaos of the butterfly effect, natural disasters, unforeseen events, influencing the mood of evil people, losing your favorite pair of socks-

But you attract spirits, right!? You have to help him! How can you say ‘no’ to that face?

The next day he took you to one of his commissions as an exorcist, a house that had numerous reports from its previous tenants. He stayed outside and asked you to come in first, obviously you refused, if your chaos broke something inside you would have more problems besides the ghosts of the house.

He insisted a little more, it worked. Now you were waiting to feel the presence of some spirit trying to attack you. You could feel it, their energy was spread throughout the building, but still there was no movement. Neither hostility, neither terror, just the presence of a soul.

When it was Chongyun's turn to enter you explained this to him, his yang was also easy to perceive, you could describe it as a blizzard in the middle of the storm. But despite this, that presence didn’t react to his energy, nothing changed.

Then you understand it, your energies neutralized each other. Your chaos and his yang ended in a stalemate that went nowhere.

“I was really hoping to see an actual spirit and not only stay still in the middle of the entrance… “

“Well, I can still curse you. Want to try?” Chongyun crossed his arms, annoyed for your jokes.

“Maybe I should exorcize you instead… ”

“Ohh, so the little exorcist wants a deity to be his personal dummy? Let’s make a pact then. Promise me your soul.”

“I-I thought you said you weren’t actually a demon!”

When you stroked his hair he couldn't help but think about how much he still had to learn, so much so that even the gods were taking pity on him.

#people like what I write pEOPLE LIKE WHAT I WRITE !!! #CHAOS READER IS MY CHILD NOW #genshin fic #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #reader insert #genshin impact x y/n #genshin scenarios #tartagalia x reader #tartagila #Genshin scaramouche #bennett x you #bennett x y/n #chongyun #ganyu x y/n #ganyu fluff #chongyun x y/n #genshin x y/n #genshin x male reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x gn reader #mondstadt #genshin liyue #gi inazuma #scaramouche x y/n #gi x reader #bennett genshin impact #bennett x reader

[phoebe-delia]

Drarry Tag Game!

Thank you to an extremely talented and gracious human who happens to be my friend, @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm, for the tag!

✨  Drarry Tag Game! ✨ Answer any questions you’d like and ignore the rest!

When did you get into Drarry and why?: Long story short, I was a very lonely freshman in college and needed an escape and started reading HP fanfic as a joke/escape. I started with Dramione and found my way to Drarry and that was it.

Which Drarry fic hooked you?: I genuinely can't remember. I wish I could. I didn't have an AO3 account back then, and I used an incognito window, so I can't check my history. I only had a notes page on my laptop with the fics I enjoyed most but I have 0 memory of which one hooked me.

Top three four favorite Drarry fics: Pretty much everyone knows that my favorite fic is "Right Hand Red" by @lqtraintracks because I refuse to shut up about it like it a Healthy Amount. Two others I consider in my top are: "Operation: SMWLNTETHSP" by @xx-thedarklord-xx and "Fallaway" by @nerdherderette, which I really need to reread soon, tbh, because it's so fucking amazing. Also, Beautiful Madness/Jump Then Fall (Into Me) by @phd-mama because I love both and she wrote me the sequel for Owlpost because she's the greatest.

Why can’t you quit them? I feel like I owe a lot to them, interestingly. They, and fandom, have been there for me during my lowest moments, and one of the reasons I got into fic writing was to give back, in a way? I wanted to contribute to this thing that had provided me so much comfort and joy.

But more than that, they just represent a lot of hope for me. Watching them navigate life and work through their shit and discover what it means to be good—in every sense of the word—is so compelling and relatable for me. I love reading about them getting it together after the war because it teaches me that my best is enough, that I am enough. But also, if an orphan and a (forced/coerced/child) ex-Neo Nazi with PTSD and trauma can be happy, then maybe so can I.

Would you rather be friends with Harry or Draco?: I think Harry. I truly love Draco, but I am a very softhearted/nerdy Hufflepuff, and I don't think I could handle some of Draco's snark and insults, even if it's a joke. I can handle light teasing, of course, but I've learned I don't have patience for "friends" who consistently hurt my feelings and don't do anything to fix it after I approach them to talk about it, and frankly, I think Draco would put his guards up if confronted like that. I'm not saying that makes Draco an inherently bad person or friend, but it means he and I wouldn't necessarily be a good match. I think Harry, while oblivious, would be generally better about being kind.

Who breaks your heart more often?  Harry, my absolute darling. He's been through so much. I love when he's happy with Draco.

Ideal career for Harry? For Draco? Journalist!Draco has my entire heart and soul, as does lawyer!Draco. (Thus far I've only written him as a journalist, but lawyer!Draco is gonna happen one day, too.) But also I love him as a writer in general.

As for Harry, something I love to read and write is where he starts out as an Auror and then realizes he hates it and leaves. I think I wrote my favorite career for him at the end of "this is me trying," but you'll have to read to find out ;)

Also, I like him as a Cursebreaker or Unspeakable. But also as a craftsman. OH I love him as DADA professor so much. (OMG dragon tamer is so hot too). And, as Joy said in his post, AAAB, but auror partners can be fun sometimes.

Mostly, I want Harry's career to be happiness. That's his job. Being happy.

Harry and Draco are being sent to a desert island for a week with plenty of food and water. Each are allowed to bring three additional items (no wands). What do they bring?

Draco: hair potion, healing potion, and a deck of cards (so he can either play with Harry or play Solitaire to entertain himself if he gets mad at Harry lol)

Harry: Knife (or weapon of some sort. he'd want to protect himself and Draco if needed), and phone + headphones (even if he can't call/text anyone he'd be able to listen to downloaded music. Draco would 100% steal it, though, but he wouldn't know that phones die if they're not charged for a while so he listens to it for hours and it dies and Harry is so annoyed.)

Favorite non-Drarry HP character? Luna Lovegood (see: I am a softhearted/nerdy Hufflepuff). I ADORE her. She and I would be best friends. I'd go with her on all her adventures.

If you had to pick one, enemies to lovers or (enemies to) friends to lovers? It sorta depends on my mood, but I'd say I generally like past enemies to lovers. I love post-war fics where they don't really know what they are to each other but they can't stop watching and staring and their friends think they're both crazy but they can't help it.

Would you rather read a fic that made you laugh or one that made you cry? Laugh, I'd say. I mostly read short, fluffy fics, though sometimes I like the catharsis of hurt/comfort or a little angst with a happy ending. And I don't love fics where the main humor is a lot of embarrassment. But if there's a lot of funny banter or sarcasm, I love it.

Three Five songs that scream Drarry to you (feel free to include the Drarry-est lyrics!): Oh, this blog was fuckin born for this question. I know I've talked about some of these before, so if you want more in-depth analysis of these and more songs, see here, but I will do it again muahaha. (Also I'm sorry I couldn't just do 3 songs I am Very Passionate about this lol. The songs are not in order, and I have more...but these are the ones that SCREAM Drarry to me the most. I stg I'm gonna write songfics for the first two songs one day.)

1. "Dark Side" by Kelly Clarkson. ("Everybody’s got a dark side/Do you love me?/Can you love mine?/Nobody’s a picture perfect/But we’re worth it/You know that we’re worth it/Will you love me?/Even with my dark side?")

2. "The Thrill of First Love" from the musical Falsettos. (ALL OF THE LYRICS!!!!!! Seriously GO listen to this song. You don’t need the musical’s plot context. But I’ll give you this: “We ask for passion at all times/We stand for passion and drink this toast/Still it’s awfully trying/And we’re not denying/That of all the lesser passions/We like fighting most.”)

3. "The Way I Loved You" by Taylor Swift ("But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain/And it’s 2:00 a.m. and I’m cursing your name/So in love that you act insane/And that’s the way I loved you/Breakin’ down and coming undone/It’s a roller coaster kinda rush/And I never knew I could feel that much/And that’s the way I loved you" Read the fic I wrote for the song here!)

4. "Call It What You Want" by Taylor Swift ("My castle crumbled overnight/I brought a knife to a gunfight/They took the crown, but it’s alright/All the liars are calling me one/Nobody’s heard from me for months/I’m doing better than I ever was, 'cause/My baby’s fit like a daydream/Walking with his head down/I’m the one he’s walking to So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to." See the fic I wrote for the song here!!)

5. "peace" by Taylor Swift (I never had the courage of my convictions/As long as danger is near/And it’s just around the corner, darling/'Cause it lives in me/No, I could never give you peace/But I’m a fire, and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm/If your cascade ocean wave blues come/All these people think love’s for show/But I would die for you in secret/The devil’s in the details, but you got a friend in me/Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" Read the fic I wrote for this song here!)

Tagging: @written-in-ash, @romeoandmesittinginatree, @silver-de-vonne, @rockingrobin69, @m0srael, @geesenoises, @bubble-gumhead, @ronbinary and anyone else who hasn't been tagged yet and wants to play!

#for harry's desert island I *almost* said lube #so he and draco can have fun. but also for his own games of 'solitaire' #but i wanted to keep it SFW so #drarry #tag game #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #draco and harry #drarry squad #drarry fanfiction #harry and draco #hpdm #phoebe delia

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 14 - Sinking Deeper [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤ 

Ps: Special thanks to Bea for helping me!

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking.

Word Count: 4180

Summary: Not every night is for sleeping.

All things considered, you were sure that you were supposed to be more stressed out than you were right now. The FBI still had nothing on the copycat killer that had sent you flowers, or any of the others that were running wild all over the country. BAU was working nonstop because there was more and more pressure coming from the supervisors and higher ups, and Spencer had told you something about the profile evolving but hadn’t gotten into details.

Not that you would ever ask him to, what you heard was more than enough.

Despite all that, whenever you were with him, you managed to feel almost…peaceful. It was so unfamiliar to you that it had taken you a moment to acknowledge what it was.

Happiness. Pure happiness, enough to get rid of the mind-numbing panic and worries about the future.

Or, as your sister had so eloquently put it, you were so, so screwed.

You took a sip of your mimosa, texting Spencer under the table, barely aware of the conversation taking place but you had to look up when you heard your name being called.

“Would you want to, Y/N?” your mother asked and you frowned.

“Hm?” you asked, your eyes stopping on Lily playing with her dolls by the corner of the huge living room before you looked at Mina and Kenzie, “Sorry, what were we talking about?”

“There’s this opera—“

“Nope,” you shook your head fervently, “No way. It’s Mina’s turn.”

Mina let out a whine, “I hate you so much right now.”

“She has a point,” your mother pointed at Mina, “Your sister was the one who came to the charity ball, you can come to this one.”

Mina heaved a sigh while Kenzie reached out to hold her hand.

“Babe come on, it could be fun.”

“Exactly!” your mother said, “Thank you, Kenzie. Besides, Nolan is coming as well, so we will be two couples there. Y/N, of course if you want you can bring Spencer—“

“I’m not exaggerating when I say I’d rather spend an hour in my serial killer father’s cell with Spencer.”

Your mother rolled her eyes and Mina tilted her head.

“Nolan Yates is coming too?” she asked, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I’m spending a whole night with the boss of my boss?”

“You two should get to know each other!” Your mother said, “Besides, there’s no harm in telling your bosses that you should become a partner already—“

“Mom,” Mina cut her off, “We talked about this. I will earn that position by myself, not because of anyone’s influence. Including yours.”

Your mother sipped her drink, “It’s as if you like struggling, Mina.”

Kenzie looked between them and smiled brightly, trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m actually pretty curious about him,” she said, “Since you’re a couple now, I just need to see what kind of a person he is.”

“There’s nothing to see, babe.” Mina murmured, “The guy looks like he spends millions alone on his beard care and wears bowties to bed.”

“Yeah but bowties are cool,” you grinned and a silence fell upon the table.

“I will get back to you sleeping with my boss’ boss in a minute mom but—“ Mina cleared her throat and turned to you, “I’m sorry, was that a Doctor Who reference?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I started watching it because Spencer likes it so much. It’s actually pretty fun, he said we could go to Sonic-Con next year if I want.”

“Comic-Con.” Kenzie corrected you helpfully and Mina blinked a couple of times.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I don’t get it,” Kenzie said, “I told you to watch it with me and you said, and I quote It has like one billion episodes Kenz, I don’t have time for that.”

Mina stole a look at Lily to make sure she couldn’t hear you before she turned to Kenzie, “Yeah, the difference is that you weren’t dicking her down.”

“Nobody is dicking me down!” you whispered, and your mother gasped, putting her mimosa glass down.

“Girls, not at the breakfast table!” she insisted, “Not that this kind of language is acceptable anywhere…”

“Yeah Mina, leave her alone,” Kenzie said, “I think it’s sweet.”

“What’s next? You will want to get a doctorate as well because he likes them so much?”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” your mother mused out loud, “Y/N, I know the lovely dean of—“

“No!” you pointed at them, “No to both of you. And thank you Kenzie.”

Before your mother could say anything, Lily ran to you to climb into your lap.

“Hi there bug.”

“Can we play after brunch?” she looked up at you, making you smile at her before you pinched her chubby cheek, making her giggle.

“Of course,” you said, “Dibs on green unicorn.”

“I like pink better,” she nicked a piece of cheese from your plate, “Are you talking about your prince?”

Mina smiled into her glass, “Something like that sweetheart.”

“Lily, why don’t you ask auntie what you asked me the other day?” Kenzie told her and Lily nodded fervently.

“Can I wear pink on your wedding?”

“Whoa-“ you cleared your throat, “Lily, baby, there’s no wedding.”

Kenzie and your mother grinned at each other and turned to you and Lily but she looked as if she was confused.

“But if he’s your prince…” she trailed off and Kenzie cleared her throat.

“I would like to come up with a tamer version of that question,” she said, “When do we get to meet him?”

“Mom and Mina already have,” you said but your mother shook her head.

“That doesn’t count.”

“Because you treated him like you were going to hire him?”

“Oh you did the same to him as well?” Kenzie asked your mother, “I thought Mina would have a heart attack when you did that to me.”

“I honestly thought you would break up with me after that.”

You fixed the huge bow on top of Lily’s hair while she sat still in your lap, listening to the conversation.

“How about dinner?” your mother said, “It’d help us to get to know him better.”

“Nope,” you shook your head, “It’s too early.”

“Oh come on Y/N!”

“I will introduce him to you guys when I’m sure you can behave.”

“He has spent hours with dad, you do realize that?” Mina asked with a small laugh, “You think he behaves? The guy is a—“

“Mina.” Kenzie nodded at Lily and Mina stopped herself immediately but Lily had already heard it.

“I thought your dad was a bad man, mommy.”

“He is, baby,” she nodded, “That’s why he’s far away, remember?”

“Then why is auntie Y/N’s prince talking to him?”

“Because he catches bad people, bug.”

Lily gasped and looked up at you, her eyes shining with excitement, “Like a superhero?!”

“Mm hm, like a superhero,” you grinned at her and she fidgeted in your lap.

“When will I meet him?”

“Yeah Y/N, when will we meet him?” Kenzie batted her lashes and you pointed at her.

“That’s evil, you know that right?” you asked, ignoring Mina’s laughter, “Low blow.”

                                                 ***

Towards the evening, right before it was time to meet Spencer he had texted you, saying that they would be doing overtime at work. You were bummed, but you still texted back to tell him it was alright, that you would be going home and he could drop by whenever he was done.

After having dinner, you went to the couch with a bottle of wine and turned your laptop on to take a look at the files your assistant had sent you. Campbell wedding was almost done, Vincent had sent you a couple of new ideas to add into the theme, and you had to email back two pastry shops to confirm the wedding cake orders.

You were so lost in work that you had barely realized downing the half of the bottle and it was only when your phone started buzzing on the coffee table that you looked away from the screen of the laptop.

“Hi Lincoln,” you answered the phone, still typing your replies to your assistant and he took a deep breath.

“Hey,” he said, “Are you watching it?”

“Watching what?”

“TV. They’re talking about the copycat killers.”

“What?” you grabbed the remote to turn on the TV and of course, the first TV channel you found was already covering the story.

“The FBI has confirmed that the body that was found dead earlier today belonged to one of the copycat killers that has been—“

“What the fuck?” you murmured, keeping your eyes on the screen and he cleared his throat.

“Yeah,” he said, “I know it’s creepy but I mean…I don’t know, isn’t that a good thing?”

“Someone killed one of the copycat killers?” you asked, “That makes no sense at all.”

“Do you think it’s the same one?” he asked, “From the charity ball?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, “Jesus Christ.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, “I didn’t know if I should call, but…”

“No no, I’m glad you did.” You muted the TV, then filled your glass again, “What’re you doing?”

“Just leaving work,” he said and you raised your brows.

“Linc, it’s eleven p.m.”

“I had to attend a meeting overseas.”

“Workaholic.”

“I prefer the term hard working,” he chuckled, “How about you? You weren’t sleeping, right?”

“Nah, I was waiting for my boyfriend,” you said, making him pause for a moment, “And checking client files. And drinking.”

“You’re lucky you can deal with your job while drinking, these sharks would pounce on me if they ever saw me like that.”

You took a look at the TV and typed in the copycat killer’s name into the search bar, sipping your wine.

“You’re being safe, right?” he asked you, “I haven’t heard from you for like a week or so, you’re alright?”

You pressed your lips together, trying to decide whether to tell him about the flowers or not, but in the end you decided not to.

“Family drama,” you said, “I’ve been running everywhere, and what with work and everything…Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be silly,” he chuckled, “Just wanted to make sure you were alright, that’s all.”

“I’m alright—“ you started but then looked over your shoulder when you heard the doorbell ring, “Gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Sure thing, see you,” he said and hung up, so you jumped over the couch to rush to the door before you opened it to see Spencer standing there.

“Hey,” you smiled at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, “Long day?”

He nodded silently and wrapped his arms around you, pressing you closer to inhale your scent.

“Hi,” he muttered into your hair, “Yeah. Long day.”

“I have wine?” you said as you pulled back, and closed the door after he stepped in, “I also have a bathtub even you could lose yourself in.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” he said and hesitated for a moment, “On second thought, do you have coffee?”

“Are you sure you want to drink coffee at eleven at night?”

“I still have some reports to go over,” he said, stepping into the living room while you put the coffee on and his eyes stopped on the huge screen that was still giving details about the copycat killer.

“You saw that huh?”

“Mm hm,” you watched him as he dropped his satchel and you went to sit down next to him on the couch. “I was checking the other news. That’s why you had to work overtime?”

He rubbed at his eyes and ran a hand through his fluffy hair as if it would help, “We thought the profile was changing but this whole thing just proves someone is trying to keep it stable.”

You pulled your brows together, “What?”

“The victimology didn’t match with the last two victims, and now one of the copycats ended up dead, probably the one who went rogue.”

“How did it not match?” you blinked a couple of times, “They all left a flower in the crime scene, no?”

“Well yeah, but the rest—“ he stopped for a moment, staring at you, “You never actually checked his victimology?”

“I never watched any of those interviews he gave after he was imprisoned, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, and those interviews are the reason why we still don’t have a specific suspect because everyone knows everything about him, and most of your family life,” he heaved a sigh, “But you know what his victims had in common?”

“They all bled out while he watched,” you crossed your arms, leaning back to the arm of the couch, “I know that. He liked watching that.”

“Your father never killed anyone outside his social circle,” he reminded you, “They were all wealthy and overly successful people, remember? That’s why it took FBI so long to find him, because the previous profile was wrong. They thought it was someone who didn’t have access to the same resources, the same wealth and status, and it was for revenge.”

“Yeah but Spencer, he killed those people because he is evil.”

“He killed those people because in his mind, he was creating this…perfect business environment. Most of the people who got murdered were either failing business people or people who failed to meet his expectations. He was very successful, he expected the same from everyone. That’s his victimology. The flowers on the crime scene, they were just his signature. Well, his signature and his small offering to you.”

You thought for a moment, then went to the kitchen to pour him a cup of coffee before walking back to the couch.

“I still think this is a bad idea professor,” you muttered as you gave him the cup and he smiled at you, then took a sip while you lit up a cigarette.

“So then,” you crossed your legs, “His victims were the cream of society and that means something? Other than the fact that he was a psychopath?”

“That means a lot of things,” he said, “So far, most of the victims had a higher status in society, it means that the copycats actually wanted to continue his legacy from where he left off. Maybe not the people who disappointed them per se, but until these last two victims, they all had higher financial status, either family money or with their own successful companies but last month, someone first killed a bartender and then a social worker. The only thing that told us it was remotely connected was the flower in the crime scene.”

“That’s why the profile was changing,” you muttered to yourself, “Okay. Is that normal?”

“No, not at all,” he shook his head, “It’s very unfamiliar. It did prove our multiple copycat killers theory but other than that, it was going to make things incredibly harder until…” he nodded at the TV and you pulled your brows together.

“Hold on,” you sat up straighter, your mind working nonstop, “Multiple copycats who are trying to continue that monster’s legacy, and one happens to taint that legacy by going rogue…”

“And he gets killed,” he finished your sentence for you, “Exactly.”

“It was one of the copycats who killed him?”

“That’s my theory.”

“So they’re not actually working together then?” you asked, exhaling the smoke, “Or- or- wait, you said there could be one copycat that was controlling the others, maybe they did it?”

Spencer took a sip of his coffee, “It could also mean that the leader wouldn’t want to take chances like this again,” he said, “Someone tainted the legacy, he might begin to believe he cannot trust anyone with that again.”

You let out a breath, stubbing the cigarette, “What does that mean then? For…all of this?”

“It means that someone cares so much about your father’s legacy that they’re ready to kill anyone and everyone over it, even their partners,” he said, “It also means that their whole operation is starting to crack. It’s only a matter of time someone makes a mistake and ends up getting caught.”

You massaged your temples, “Well, at least one of us can see the light at the end of this psycho murder tunnel.”

“You can’t?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “It feels like it won’t stop,” you croaked out, “It’s like… It’s like I can’t wake up without dread filling me. It’s always there, at some corner of my mind. The more I think about it, the more I feel like—“ you stopped yourself and Spencer frowned, putting his coffee down.

“What?”

“You don’t want to hear that, trust me.”

“Try me.”

“The more I feel like it will go on until the day I die.”

“It’s impossible for this case to take that long, Y/N—“

“I didn’t say it’d take long,” you took a sip of your wine and heaved a sigh before you looked up at him, the expression on his face almost hurting your heart physically, “Told you that you didn’t want to hear it.”

“Don’t say that.”

You forced a small laugh and got up from the couch, suddenly restless.

“You said it yourself,” you said, pacing in the living room, “His victimology. He went after the people who disappointed him, right? Can you guess who’s disappointing him right now by not turning into the monster that he is?”

“That’s not what I—“ he shook his head fervently and stood up from the couch as well, “No. No way. It’s his victimology, but none of the psychiatric evaluations or anything on his file, including the list of his victims suggest that he would go after his family. There was a reason why he never tried to hurt you or Mina or your mother even back then—“

“No I’m sure they’re safe,” you said, “But Mina didn’t get flowers, professor. I have.”

“If our theory of him being in contact with the copycat is right, it means that your father is involved as well—hey,” he stopped you from pacing, reaching out to hold your hands in his, “Listen to me. Whoever it is, they will never, ever touch you. I’ll make sure of that.”

A painful smile pulled at your lips, “Spencer, that’s not your responsibility.”

“It is.”

“FBI can’t—“

“I’m not talking about the FBI, I’m talking about me.”

You took a shaky breath and wrapped your arms around his middle, burying your face into his chest as you swayed slightly.

“Is it okay if we stay like this for a moment?” you muttered, shifting your weight from one foot to another “I don’t— I can’t sit still, I don’t know why.”

“Do you want to hear the reason why?” he ran his fingertips over your spine up and down, as if trying to soothe you and you nodded.

“Yes please.”

“You feel threatened, so your brain is trying to understand where the danger is coming from. It’s telling you to either stand or run away, so it’s pumping adrenaline into your system. We call that nervous energy.”

“That could be my stripper name,” you mumbled, making a chuckle vibrate deeply in his chest, “Tell me more.”

“The nervous energy happens when you’re under stress,” he said, “Our primitive brain is used to physical threats and it created this system in order to protect us. The threat you’re afraid of is not here, not physical, but your brain is still sending that energy to your limbs so that you can attack that physical threat, or run away to somewhere safe. It’s all a part of your defense mechanism.”

You hmmed into his chest, still holding him tight as if someone would take him away from you before you sniffled and pulled back to look up at him.

“You know, I think I got something you can’t explain with science.”

He raised his brows, “Debatable.”

“Do you want to bet? If I win, you’ll tell me what you planned for the next date.”

“What if I win?”

You wiped at your nose, “Tell me your price, professor.”

“There’s this conference on smoking and its effects on health next week, if I win you will attend that with me.”

“That’s a very indirect way to say that you hate my smoking.”

“I mean, it’s better if you see the effects in that conference, I think it’ll be good for you. It has five sessions, so it’s around….7 hours, including breaks.”

You blinked a couple of times, then nodded. “7 hours? That’s— okay. Yeah, I’m sure— I’m sure it’ll be fun.”  

A smile pulled at his lips, “Okay,” he said, “What is it?”

“It’s just,” you nibbled on your lip, trying to find the right words, “I was thinking and I realized something. I— I think it’s instinctual somehow, you can’t really explain it with science but when you’re here…” you paused, “With me, I mean, this whole panic dissolves. I feel safe, and it’s so unfamiliar that I don’t—“ you let out a small laugh, “I don’t know how to deal with that. I normally don’t feel safe, ever.”

A small smile pulled at his lips and he tilted his head, his warm gaze focused on you. You scrunched up your nose.

“Don’t tell me science can explain that.”

“Oxytocin.”

“God damn it!” you exclaimed, making him laugh, “Oxytocin?”

“Yeah, oxytocin. It’s a hormone that ensures that you trust people along with everything else. Basically, your brain— when you’re attracted to someone, your brain releases dopamine, so your serotonin levels rise and it produces oxytocin. It’s a big part of romantic attachment, it’s released during sex as well.”

You arched a brow, a small smirk flashing over your face and he pressed his lips together, a look of mischief appearing on his face.

“It strengthens fidelity as well,” he explained, “Seeing your partner as more attractive than others, and preferring to interact more with your partner than strangers.”

You clicked your tongue, “7 hours of conference, here we come.”

“It’ll be fun, I heard they’re bringing a real lung.”

“Can’t wait,” you muttered and entwined your fingers with his, “Well for what it’s worth professor, I have a lot of oxytocin for you.”

He cleared his throat, “Scientifically, one of the most important aspects of it is reproduction, in females it triggers labor and in males it moves sperm so having a lot of oxytocin can be—“

“Spencer, I’m trying to talk dirty in a scientific way!” you groaned, a fire spreading over your face because of embarrassment and you took a step to walk away from him but he grabbed your hand to turn you around and tug you closer to him, making you let out a whine.

“I feel like an idiot,” you murmured and he shook his head fervently,

“No, of course not,” he said, pushing your hair behind your ear, “Hey. I don’t know anything about weddings. So we complete each other if you ask me.”

You scoffed a laugh and looked up at him, your brows furrowed together, “You really think that?”

He nodded and you heaved a sigh.

“Okay.”

“And…for your information,” he swallowed thickly, “I have a lot of oxytocin for you too.”

A giggle you couldn’t stop escaped from you as he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss, making your stomach do a pleasant flip. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lungs full of his scent, making you dizzy.

“They’ll take away your doctorates for that joke, professor,” you breathed out as he pulled back, resting his forehead on yours while you raked your nails over the back of his neck gently.

“Worth it,” he murmured to your lips, leaning in to kiss you again, this time pressing you closer to his body and your heart started beating in your throat, a whine climbing up to your throat, desire filling your system faster than any other drug.

“Would you like to stay the night?” you whispered, and his eyes shot up to yours, both of you aware what you were really asking. He looked almost hypnotized by the sight of you in his arms and he blinked a couple of times, as if trying to focus before he nodded.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice hoarse and you took a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, your whole being consumed by this moment. “Yeah, I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You could swear he could hear your heartbeat echoing through the room,

“No scientific explanation this time, professor?” you whispered against his lips and his fingers caressed the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a pleasant shiver from there to your whole body.

“No,” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, “Not this time. Not for the lady who imparadises my mind.”

The lady who imparadises my mind.

That was how Dante described Beatrice in Paradise.

You stood on your tiptoes to pull him into a kiss, then tugged at his hand to lead him into your bedroom.

Chapter 15

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds #spencer #reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #spencer imagine #reid imagines #cm #spencer imagines #reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #twisted

[drabbles-mc]

One of Them Girls

Angel Reyes x Reader

Request by @lakamaa12: I have a request.. if you don't want to do it, no worries (or it's been done by another blog and I missed it).I was wondering if you would consider writing something with Angel based around the song One of Them Girls by Lee Brice?

(Part 2 can be found Here)

Warnings: language, alcohol, Angel being the cutie we know he is

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: To the best of my knowledge, no one else has written an Angel fic for this song yet! If you have and I didn’t see it, my bad! But real talk I’ve been obsessed with this song lately and I wanted to write a fic for it so I’m super glad you sent this my way. Hope you enjoy! xo

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce @helli4nthus @angelreyesgirl @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @amandinesblogofstuff @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @encounterthepast @lilacyennefer @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ (If you want to be tagged let me know! xo)

Your roommate had been trying for months to get you to go to one of the MC parties with her. She knew them from working at Vicki’s and she swore that you would have a good time if you just came to the clubhouse with her.

“Just for a couple hours,” she pleaded as she stood in the doorway to your room, “and if you’re really not having a good time, we can leave and I’ll never bother you about it again. Promise.”

You sighed, leaning your head back against your headboard, “Fine. Just so you won’t bother me about it anymore.”

She beamed, “Yes! Oh this is gonna be so fun,” you could practically see the thoughts racing through her head, “Wear those skinny jeans that make your butt look good.”

You groaned, “You’re gonna dress me, too?”

She laughed, “It’s just a friendly suggestion.”

It was a suggestion that you begrudgingly took her up on. She really wasn’t that pushy about what to wear, but she knew that she was able to nudge you out of your comfort zone a little bit sometimes. You’d ended up with a simple, low-cut black tank top, the jeans she had suggested, and a pair of black boots. You weren’t going to risk snapping your ankle in a pair of heels when you didn’t know what you’d be walking into.

Elena may have been persistent, but she was a woman of her word. She stayed by you when you first arrived, knowing the scene was a little overwhelming when you first walk into it. You weren’t quite sure what you had been expecting, but this wasn’t quite what you had pictured in your mind. It was a little tamer, a little less chaotic than your brain had been telling you it would be.

“C’mon,” she tugged you towards the bar, “I’ll get you a beer.”

“Elena, who are all these people?” you asked quietly as you scanned the room.

She started pointing out the members of the MC one by one, telling you their names and a few fun facts about each. Some of the facts were a little more information than you cared to know, but she got you to laugh. Some of the girls you recognized because they’d come over and hang out at your apartment sometimes, and it was nice to know that you knew more than just one person at the party. They said there was power in numbers, right?

“Hey, querida,” a voice piped up from behind the two of you.

Elena turned, a smile instantly spreading across her face as she walked up to the man who had been speaking to her and letting him scoop her up in a hug, “Angel, hey!”

He set her down and his eyes found their way over to you. You felt small under the weight of his gaze but you tried not to let it show. He glanced back to Elena, “You brought a friend?”

She laughed, nodding, “Angel, this is my roommate, and best friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Angel, the biggest pain in the ass in the MC.”

He placed a hand over his chest, an exaggeratedly pained expression on his face, “Right to my heart.”

The three of you laughed and you shook your head slightly, the nerves beginning to dissipate a little bit. You weren’t expecting him to plop down on the stool next to yours, but he did. You looked over to Elena, as if to ask if you should be worried about anything. She flashed you a smile as she sat down on the other side of you, giving your arm a light, reassuring squeeze as she reached for her drink.

“So what questionable decisions led you here tonight?” he asked with a laugh as he took a swig of his beer.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Just throwing Elena a bone. She’s been wanting me to come here with her for a while.”

“Didn’t want to be hanging out with a bunch of degenerates?” there was a playful smirk on his face.

You smiled, “More like I didn’t want to be hanging out with a bunch of people in general,” you laughed, “I’m a bit of a homebody.”

“I’m working on that,” Elena piped in with a smile.

The three of you sat at the bar and talked for a little while. You could tell that Angel was trying to get a read on you, the new girl. You couldn’t be mad because you were doing the same thing to him. He was smooth, flirtatious, but not overbearingly so. That was a game you’d be willing to play for the night while you pacified your friend. If you were going to be forced to socialize, there were worse people to look at while doing it.

Elena must’ve gotten the vibe from you, because she politely excused herself from the conversation, letting you know that she wouldn’t be far if you decided that you wanted to bail and go home. You saw the smirk tugging at her lips as she walked away though, knowing that you were having a much better time there than you’d ever admit.

“So I gotta know,” Angel asked as he idly toyed with the beer bottle in his hands, “how does a homebody like you end up rooming with Miss “Life of the Party” Elena?”

You laughed, trying not to stare at the way his ringed fingers traced and curled around the neck of his beer bottle, “We actually had a few classes together our first year in college,” you shook your head, “Nothing bonds two people together like suffering through statistics classes together.”

He chuckled, “Fuck that.”

“That was exactly how we felt.”

The longer the two of you talked, the more he tested his boundaries. He wasn’t pushy, or inappropriate, but he was definitely trying to figure out what made you tick. You weren’t going to give him that kind of satisfaction so quickly, though. You bantered back and forth with him, and you couldn’t remember the last time a guy had you laughing so hard.

Angel was in the middle of an incredibly cheesy pickup line that he swore has worked for him before when the song coming through the speakers changed. You couldn’t help but to perk up a little bit at the familiar beat and Angel noticed the shift immediately. He watched you for a moment as he tried to feel out the situation.

“Wanna dance?”

You shook your head no with zero hesitation, “No thank you.”

He laughed, “C’mon, why not? Live a little.”

You smiled but didn’t move to get up from your stool, “I’m sure there are plenty of women here tonight that would love to dance with you, Angel.”

He didn’t push the topic any further. You were smiling but he could see the flash of emotion in your eyes and he knew that there was something there that you weren’t ready to tap into yet with him. So, instead, he got you another beer and delved back into his cheesy pickup line story. When you realized that he was going to move past what you just said and not make it awkward, the tension immediately melted out of your body. You gladly took the beer bottle from him as you listened him ramble into another story.

“Yo, Angel,” Coco called from the pool table, “get over here. Bring your friend, we need two more.”

“You play pool?” Angel asked you, curious to your answer.

You shrugged as you hopped off the stool, “I mean I know how to.”

He laughed as he followed you across the clubhouse, “That’s not a super reassuring answer, querida.”

“Man, fuck him. You can be on my team,” Coco said with a laugh, “He and Gilly can fend for themselves.”

There was something reassuring and welcoming about the way that Coco spoke to you—like he had known you for years. He handed you your pool stick, smile still plastered onto his face. This wasn’t how you had originally pictured your night going, but you weren’t upset about it.

About halfway through the game, Angel was pissed that he didn’t try to team up with you. You and Coco were on a hot-streak and he really didn’t expect that from you. He shook his head as you sank another shot, and you had to laugh at the way that Coco was able to effectively gloat with just a simple look thrown Angel’s way.

“I mean I know how to,” Angel mocked you with a laugh as he shook his head, watching you line up to take another shot, “Can’t believe you fuckin’ hustled me.”

You laughed, “I don’t think you can call it hustling if there’s no money involved. You’re just mad because we’re about to whoop your ass.”

He chuckled and glanced over at Coco, “Don’t look so smug, Coco. She’s fuckin’ carrying you right now.”

The game wrapped up quickly with you and Coco both doing so well. Gilly had been more than content to sit back and watch it all happen, reveling in the fact that someone, and someone new at that, was kicking Angel’s ass at pool. Angel was shaking his head as he set his stick aside, still trying to figure out how all of that just happened. For someone who claimed that they didn’t like going out and doing things, you seemed to be full of surprises.

“Since I am a gracious winner,” you said with a laugh as you let Coco put your stick away, “I’ll buy you all a drink.”

Angel went to protest, not wanting you to be buying anything for any of them, but Gilly slapped his chest to stop him. The look on Gilly’s face made it very evident that no matter how cute the girl was, none of them were about to be turning down free drinks. Angel laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

As the night wore on, slowly but surely people began to trickle out of the clubhouse. You hadn’t really talked to Elena since you got wrapped up playing pool with the guys, but the two of you kept an eye on one another. Every now and then she’d shoot you a look, one that asked if you needed to get out, and you would just shake your head. She’d smile, sometimes throw you a wink, before getting wrapped back up into whatever she was doing. You knew that she was just glad to get you out of the house and socializing with people.

You and Angel were sitting next to each other on the couch talking, keeping your conversation low in the midst of music and noise still filling the clubhouse. You were shaking your head at him as he told you about some of the scrapes he’d gotten into with his brother, someone that you knew you’d also love to sit and have a conversation with eventually.

Elena walked up and gave you a nudge, smiling when you turned to her, “Not trying to rush you, but I think a couple of the girls and I are gonna head out. You want me to bring you home before I go with them?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to leave. But she was your ride, so it wasn’t like you were going to have much of a choice. Just as you were about to speak up and say you’d get ready to leave, Angel interrupted, “I can take you home if you want.”

You glanced back at him, arching one eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Yea,” he shrugged, smiling, “I don’t mind.”

Elena bit at her bottom lip, trying to fight back a smile, “You good with that, Y/N?”

You nodded, “Yea, I think so,” you laughed, “Worst case scenario I have pepper spray in my bag.”

“Jesus,” Angel laughed.

Elena shook her head with a grin as she leaned down to kiss your cheek, “Text me when you’re home. Love you.”

“Love you too. Text when you get to wherever the hell you guys are all going,” you chuckled.

“Will do,” she turned and hugged Angel, “Get her home safe, or I’ll beat your ass.”

He nodded, trying hard not to laugh because he knew that she was serious, “Yes ma’am.”

When she was gone and it was just the two of you again, things felt a little different. You suddenly became very aware of the way that his arm was draped over the back of the couch, his fingers almost brushing against your shoulder. Despite the number of people that were still in the clubhouse, it felt like it was just you two left. Everything else felt farther away.

“Can I ask where you’re from?” he leaned in a little closer to you and took a sip of his beer, “Because I feel like you’re not from around here.”

You smiled, shaking your head, “I’m not. I’m from the East Coast—came out this way for college,” you laughed, “Very cliché, I know.”

“Ah, you’re one of them girls, huh?”

“Who are them girls?” you chuckled.

“Had to get the hell outta dodge?”

You smiled and nodded, not really wanting to get into the details of your decisions, “Something like that.”

“You musta broke a lot of hearts when you left,” there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

You laughed, “Wouldn’t know—haven’t been back to find out.”

Somewhere along the line of your conversation, the two of you had gotten very comfortable. You had your legs pulled up underneath you as you leaned into him, his hand resting lightly on the nape of your neck. Every now and then when you laughed your hand would come to rest on his thigh for a moment or two before you pulled it back to your own body. He wasn’t bold enough to say it but he wished that you’d leave it there.

There was a brief lull in the conversation and you looked around the clubhouse, seeing that the two of you were some of the last people there. You checked your phone, seeing that you had gotten the safety update from your roommate almost an hour before and hadn’t noticed from being so enthralled with Angel.

“You got that look on your face like you gotta get going,” Angel said knowingly.

You sighed, “Yea, unfortunately I still have to go and do life stuff tomorrow,” there was a hint of laughter to your voice.

His thumb traced idly along the exposed skin at the base of your neck, “We can take the bike, if you want.”

You pressed your lips together for a moment, “I’ve never ridden on one before.”

He chuckled as he rose to his feet, helping you to do the same, “Something tells me you’ll be fine.”

The two of you walked out of the clubhouse, Angel’s hand settling on the small of your back. The chilly night air hit your skin and sent a chill through you. Without a second thought, Angel peeled off his sweatshirt that he’d put on and handed it over to you. You started to shake your head no but he wordlessly pushed the hoodie into your hands. You gave in with a smile, pulling it down over your head. It was warm, and you were practically swimming in the fabric, but you didn’t mind.

He let you use his helmet, and you settled behind him after climbing onto the bike. Your hands were lightly resting on his waist and he pulled your arms tighter around him, causing you to press flush up against his back.

“Don’t be shy, querida,” he chuckled, “For your own safety as much as anything else.”

You laughed, thankful that he couldn’t see the sheepish smile on your face as you let your body rest against his. The bike came to life underneath you and you nervously wrapped your arms a little tighter around him, and you could feel him laughing despite the fact that you couldn’t hear him over the noise of the bike.

Slowly you eased into the ride, your nerves subsiding a little bit. Angel must’ve felt the tension dissipating because he picked up the speed a little bit, causing you to laugh and tighten your hold on him. You knew that Angel knew the way to yours and Elena’s apartment, so you knew that he was taking the long way there. As much as you wanted to call him out on it, you didn’t want him to think that you minded. It was a peaceful, freeing feeling to be riding with him.

He rolled to a stop in front of your apartment building. You hopped off the bike, handing him back his helmet. The two of you stood there and you knew that he could feel the same type of tension in the air that you felt. For a night that you really hadn’t been looking forward to, it was the best time that you’d had in a while.

You went to take his sweatshirt off to give back to him but he shook his head at you, “Nah, keep it.”

“You sure?”

He nodded with a smirk on his face, “Yea. Just give it back next time I see you.”

You smiled, “Next time? Who said I’m coming back to the clubhouse?”

He laughed and shook his head, “Damn, you and Elena are both out to keep my ego in check, huh?”

“It’s good for you,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the fact that you felt nervous, trying to figure out how to say goodnight.

“But really,” he stepped in a little closer to you, forcing you to tilt your head up slightly to look him in the eye, “I’d really like to be able to see you again.”

You managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds, just long enough to make him nervous. You could see him racing to try and come up with a follow-up statement to get himself out of being rejected, and you let yourself smile as you nodded, “I’d like that.”

He let out an audible sigh of relief, “Had me worried for a second,” he chuckled.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Can’t make it too easy for you.”

He smiled, “Can I have your number? Or do I gotta level up for that?”

You rolled your eyes as you held your hand out, “Give me your phone before I change my mind.”

He chuckled as he dug it out of his pocket and pressed it into the palm of your hand. He watched you intently as you plugged your number in, smiling as you handed it back to him, “This your real number? Or one of those rejection hotlines?”

You smirked, “Guess you’ll have to call me and find out. One time I gave some dude the number that would just play the John Cena theme song over and over again. That was…peak rejection.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring for me, you get that, right?” he laughed.

You smiled and shook your head, “It’s my real number, promise,” you stood up on your tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, “Thanks for bringing me home.”

He couldn’t hide that he was surprised by the gesture. A huge smile spread across his face as he nodded, “Yea, any time.”

“Get home safe.”

He nodded, “I will,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you crossed your arms over your chest, trapping the heat against your body as you watched him get back on his bike and strap his helmet on. He flashed you another smile and you waved him off.

You let out a small sigh of contentment as you turned around and made your way into your building. The walk up to your apartment seemed much shorter as you replayed the night over in your head. You turned the key in the lock and stepped in, glad to be home but simultaneously wishing that the night wasn’t over yet. You showered and threw your pajamas on, falling into your bed with a happy sigh. After shutting the light off and settling in underneath your blanket, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You reached over to see who it was, and smiled when you saw a message waiting for you from a new number.

“Home safe. Sweet dreams” after a few seconds a second text came in, “It’s Angel by the way”

You chuckled as you typed out your reply, ‘Thanks for the clarification. Got worried for a second”

“Just tryna be sweet and you can’t let me have it, can you?”

“Nope” you were laughing in the quiet darkness of your room.

“Alright. Sweet nightmares then. Goodnight”

You could picture his face and you couldn’t stop smiling, “Goodnight xo”

You set your phone off to the side again, settling back down underneath your covers. Your body wanted to sleep but your brain was too busy replaying the entire night over again and you couldn’t stop smiling.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[haechanniesunflowers]

y/n slaps yandere!Ateez during an argument

Warnings: this kind of behaviour is sick and you shouldn't take inspiration from it. I do not support it, none of us support it or should support it. It is wrong in every way.

Mentions of blood, rage, extreme violence, gore, brutality

Requested by @btsxgx

Hongjoong

He has one rule you must remember all the time, you are not allowed to touch him without his permission, he hates being touched

You want to hold his hand? Ask him. You want to wake him up from a nap? Call his name. But you do not touch him without his permission or else he will punish you and he's a masochistic psycho so you better keep your hands to yourself

Today was a bad day for him and he was taking it out on you. He was humiliating you for no good reason even though you were on your best behaviour for him. His words were getting unbearable and then you snapped and argued back

He was stunned because you never raise your voice at him so he got physical and started pushing you harshly

In an attempt to stop him your palm landed across his jaw and suddenly everything was quite, all you could hear was your heart thumping because you had just touched him

He grabbed you by your neck and shoved you to the ground on your back and stepped on you with one foot on your ribcage

He was putting too much pressure

Hongjoong made you look at him and "you want to hurt me? That's why you hit me? Your weak hands won't do it, let me do it for you" and he started hitting his face

You tried stopping him and apologized but he wasn't having it

You had touched him and now this was your punishment, he'd hurt himself and blame it on you

Seonghwa

He's a possessive yandere so don't even think about meeting your friends

But you still kinda wanted to meet your friends so you did that, without him knowing because he was busy at work

y/n's luck really ran out today huh? Because you just came back home after having the time of your life catching up with friends and umm... is that Seonghwa in the kitchen? yes honey and I'm so sorry

"you're home early" you started the conversation and back hugged him

"yeah my students finished with their vocal lessons early so I decided to come home to spend some time with you but I guess you were out whoring around with those pathetic sluts you call friends" he said in a sweet voice but you were taken aback by his words

You let him go and tried distancing yourself from him but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to his chest and kissed you

You resisted and accidentally hit his face and you could feel him staring to breathe heavily

He stopped kissing you and pushed you towards the counter and grabbed your hand and smashed it on it several times

You were screaming your head off so he chocked you with his other hand

By the time he was done, your hand was purple, yellow and blue and two of your fingers were bent the other way, the joints completely broken. You felt dizzy and threw up

"oh no sweetheart are you okay? you should go sit on the couch I'll make some soup for you maybe you'll feel better" he cooed as if he didn't just violently break your hand

You screamed and begged for him to take you to a hospital and he took your hand in his and squeezed it while staring at you lovingly and said "of course sweetheart, afterall your stupid friends hurt your beautiful hand and I'll tell the doctor about that, maybe he'll tell you not to see them again. And then I'll report them to the police, look at how brutal those bitches are, did they really have to break your hand?" he said and took you to the hospital (yikes)

Yunho

Remember that episode of powerpuff girls in which the girls time travel to the future and the whole town is ruined because they weren't there to save them and everyone's old and keeps saying "it's your fault". That's Yunho. Everything is your fault and he'll cry over it and if you deny or leave, he'll end up in the ER.

Please explain to him why you were excitedly thanking the cashier for the store restocking your favorite moisturiser because girl you were obviously cheating on him like that *rolls eyes*

You guys got in the car and drive off and suddenly Yunho inquires about the incident with tears in his eyes "you're going to leave me for him aren't you"

He starts whining and crying and you're scared because he's almost overspending so you slap him to bring him to his senses and ge stops the car

"y-you hit me? It's because you hate me now isn't it? You love that man and now you're going to hit me to make me feel worthless" he says but you answer with a wth because you're fed up of his jealousy and he presses the gas pedal and starts driving recklessly

You start apologizing and reassuring him that you aren't going to leave him and that you love him too much to do so, even though the relationship was exhausting but you had to say this to save your life right now

Yunho stopped the car again and hugged you and smirked to himself

"haha works every time" he thought to himself

Yeosang

His silence speaks volumes

He's the unpredictable kind

So when you slapped him for constantly scolding you for saying no to his stupid plan of going to Jongho's house to watch movies he left you alone and went on his own

But he didn't come back home for the next couple of days

You were ecstatic because "yes finally now I can have some time to myself" but days turned into weeks and now he hadn't contacted you or come home for a month and as much as you hate to admit it, you were worried so you called Jongho and asked him about your boyfriend but Jongho said he hasn't spoken to Yeosang for over a month and revealed that he didn't come to his home to watch movies the day you had the argument with him

You called all his friends but they all said they didn't know where he was

You were scared and guilty and cried

You went to the police station to file a missing report and a search for Kang Yeosang began

The police searched everywhere for him for a few weeks but there was no sign of him

Until one day, a month after the search began and you were starting to lose hope, he came back home

You asked him where he was and he told you he was home

You told him to stop playing with you and demanded to know where he went and why he left you alone

"I just told you I was home, I saw how worried you got and how you cried for me. I saw you sleeping on the couch and in our bed, waiting for any lead for me"

You were terrified of what he said because all of that was true but you knew for a fact that he wasn't home so how did he know all this

"what's going on Yeosang?" you ask him in fear

He just smiled and sat on the couch and turned the TV on

You came to sit next to him and there was silence for some time until he said "y/n? Next time try to hit me, there will be a search party for you"

San

The brutal sadist

You knew better than to get on his nerves because he switches from his usual sweet doting personality to a violent mad man

But you were on your period and everything was making you angry

San was feeling horny and wanted you but you didn't want him to come near you

You were beyond angry when he didn't stop and kept kissing you and trying to undress you, so you slapped him

San caressed his cheek and laughed a little and you knew you've done fucked up

You instantly start apologizing but San kept laughing with his hand still on his cheek

"kinky. do that again" he said

But you didn't want to do that again so you kept telling him how sorry you were and that you wanted him

He looked at you and smiled and said "I said, do. that. again." you were crying at this point

The next thing you knew, San was dragging you out the room by your arm and took you to the basement where he kept his tools. You were still apologizing in hopes of him going easy on you

He fixed your arm in one of the machines (the one which Ester uses to break her arm in the movie Orphan) and kept going until you heard the sound of your broken bones

San started slapping you and you were begging for mercy at this point

He was completely out of it and looked like he would kill you right then and there

You woke up in a hospital bed and heard the doctor telling San that "your girlfriend needs to see a psychiatrist because if she has hurt herself like that now, who knows what she would do to herself in the future"

The doctor came to check you and San held your hand "honey I was so scared! why did you hurt yourself like that. You didn't even think what I would go through, you know I can't see you in pain"

You felt tears escaping

Mingi

Mingi had just insulted your sister for visiting you and kicked her out of the house

You were furious and argued with him about it and he just said "I hate her, so she shouldn't come here where I can see her"

You said "well I hate your bitchass friends and family too, they shouldn't come here either where I can see them"

He started using slurs against your family and you slapped him out of anger

He quickly pushed you towards the wall and punched you

Your lips were bleeding but he wasn't done

He said he'd do the same to your sister she ever comes here again

You protested and called him out but he punched you again, this time drawing blood from your nose

You really didn't think Mingi would ever hit you like this but he just did and you wanted to run out of the house, away from him

But he grabbed your leg as soon as you tried to get out of the room and got on top of you

"you're really getting on my nerves today bitch"

He punched you one more time and you fainted

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is the brat tamer kind and that's what you were being right now, a brat

You wanted to leave the house and go shopping but he wasn't in the mood to go out and you weren't allowed to go without him

So you started whining

He was getting annoyed and warned you

But you had a death wish of some sort and kept whining

He had had enough and started being rough with you to stop you

You protested and accidentally slapped him

You really outdid yourself and now you were in for it

He dragged you to his room, tied your limbs and ripped your clothes off

"now I'm going to punish you for what you've done baby girl and you're going to count for me"

You tried to keep yourself composed

The whip stung your back and you screamed

"that isn't a number I hear, let's start again"

Jongho

Jongho didn't like to use his strength against you under any circumstances

He loved you too much and felt that he needed to protect you

You were happy with him but sometimes he was too much

He just told you that you are forbidden from seeing your male friend again because Jongho got the vibe that he was interested in you

You told him he was thinking too much and that your friend didn't really like you like that

But he said "no means no, you're not going to meet him again"

You were angry at him because you had to meet that friend in less than an hour "how am I going to explain this to him"?

"tell him you don't want to see him, if he's smart he'll get the message" Jongho replied

"Jongho you're being unreasonable and stupid" you said and he came to stand in front of you with his arms folded on his chest

You hated that he was challenging you right now so you slapped him

He didn't even budge because your slap was nothing compared to what he could do and he didn't want to slap you

But as payback, he forcefully took your phone and called your friend

"you make my girlfriend uncomfortable, don't ever try contacting her or meeting her again if you know what's good for you" he said on the phone

You were embarrassed and annoyed

#ateez yandere #yandere ateez #ateez #ateez hongjoong #yandere hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #yandere seonghwa #ateez yunho #yandere yunho #ateez yeosang #yandere yeosang #ateez san #yandere san #ateez mingi #yandere mingi #ateez wooyoung #yandere wooyoung #ateez jongho #yandere jongho #ateez reactions #ateez au #ateez yandere au

[harpyloon]

i’ll catch you

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x fem!Reader

Summary: "Up close, Y/N could see the familiar freckles splattered all over his nose and cheeks. He was towering over her like he always did. She used to be the little second year Hufflepuff always idling by the entrance to the Great Hall hoping to bump into the famous Charlie Weasley. Studying on the Quidditch pitch, watching him behind her textbook, captaining the Gryffindor team. Climbing the beech tree by the lake again and again, hoping Charlie Weasley would somehow walk by once more to offer her a hand..."

☞ Curse Breaker reader x Dragon-tamer Charlie Weasley

Warnings: Fluff, sprinkles of angst, dragons (duh), mentions of a dead animal, mentions of dragon eating dead animal (lol), post-war timeline (although not that important)

WC: 4.5k+ , Part 2 coming soon!

Read on AO3

Beautiful rays of golden sunlight were peaking through the blinders of Y/N's cabin. It was going to be a lovely day with the perfect weather to seek out a bit of adventure, and although she was sure she had countless other affairs to address before kicking off with her assignment the next day, a blathering Bill Weasley was not one of them.

"Are you even listening?" his tone was way beyond impatient. "You know what? Don't answer that. I know for a fact that you never pick up anything I say. Ever."

Y/N rolled her eyes as she busied herself with stuffing her socked feet inside a pair of brown chunky hiking boots. She didn't plan on going very far. Her colleagues were currently lounging in the dining hall about five cabins down, sipping piping hot ciorbă, munching on breakfast toast, and relishing their only foreseeable off day before the start of the big dig tomorrow. Some were even dozing off still, earning as much sleep as they could to compensate for the long nights to come.

It's true what they say about grumpy Curse Breakers. But nobody realized that they just spent too much time with their eyes wide open.

"You know, Bill," Y/N mused, "you always call me the drama queen. What does that make you then?"

The floating head over the fire scoffed, "A concerned superior."

"Well, there's nothing to be concerned about."

"Where are you headed?"

"I'm going for a walk."

"No walks," ordered Bill, his face stern.

"Everyone's out and about today!"

"No walks for you."

Y/N laughed. "Oh yeah?"

Bill sighed. He knew trying to be hard-nosed was futile. "No walks alone at least."

"Are you sure there's no bun in Fleur's oven yet?" Y/N teased. "You're sounding more like a papa bear with each passing day."

She heard a soft melodic laugh within the fire where Bill's head was when suddenly, another floating head appeared right beside his. This time, all blonde and very French

"There iz no bun yet, mon cher. But I think he az been practicing fatherhood with you." Fleur gave Y/N a wink. "I 'eard zer are many 'andsome men in Romania. With a leetle beet of exzploring yo—"

"There will be no exploring," barked Bill, sending his wife a warning glance, which she ignored.

"—you might find someone az adventurous az you are," Fleur beamed, "And very macho."

"Darling," Bill sighed, "is this necessary?"

With a flying kiss to Y/N, Fleur was gone.

Shrugging on a light parka, Y/N gave Bill a knowing look, "You see? Your wife said I could use a macho man."

"Oh please. You're in a Curse Breaker camp."

"Hey, there are loads of macho men here."

"Macho enough for you?"

Y/N wrinkled her nose but ignored the question.

"Well, William," she said, emphasizing Bill's full name, "I, am a Curse Breaker in the middle of the Southern Carpathians." Stuffing her wand through her belt loop, she looked at him with finality. "And I am not passing up this opportunity."

"Remember when they assigned you to Egypt with me and you went on exploring? Your exploring is bad luck, Y/N, and I did not assign you to Romania to bring bad luck."

"Excuse you, the Egypt Goblins loved me."

"Goblins don't love wizards," retorted Bill.

"I think they were particularly fond of me."

"You Reductored an entire bloody Pyramid!"

Y/N was losing her patience. She wanted to sift through the mountains in the morning sunlight. Discover hidden caves and wade through cold springs. She had her breakfast way earlier than everyone else for this sole purpose.

"I promise I'll be good."

"Take Weiss with you."

Y/N glared. "Absolutely not."

"Take someone."

"I'm walking out on you right now. Don't forget to put out my fire."

"Y/N."

"I'll see you later!"

"I have to tell you—"

Without looking back, she waved at Bill and stepped out into the crisp Romanian morning.

The skies were bright and cloudless, the sun slowly rising up east. The Curse Breaker camp in the middle of the Transylvanian Alps was in for a late morning. It was quiet, apart from the whispers of the forest beside them; chirping birds, singing crickets, and the distant sound of a nearby stream.

Trudging up the rough pavement towards the foot of the nearest hill, Y/N felt an ounce of guilt seep through as she marveled at the scenery before her. Bill was the reason she got the Romania assignment. She wasn't half bad a Curse Breaker. From an outsider's perspective, some would even call her brilliant. She's aced all her missions in her first year on the job—way ahead of all the others in her year, and was even able to crackdown a dark magic-infested tomb in an assignment she co-lead in Egypt. She was quick, smart, and as brave as the career entailed.

Only one thing stood between her and a good reputation in Gringotts. Her impulsiveness.

She couldn't help it. Y/N's successes partnered with tragedies—accidents; her brilliance came with sheer will and almost violent haste. The problem is you can't think twice Bill would always say. Not everything is done in a snap, Y/N.

Bill Weasley was the only senior Curse Breaker with enough patience to supervise her. It must have been fate or a miracle that had him in temporary assignment at the London Gringotts when she graduated Hogwarts. If she were received by anyone else, or if he were back in Egypt instead, she didn't think she'd ever make it out into the field. Or worse, last a few months.

"I'll be good," she mumbled to no one in particular. Or maybe she hoped that Bill would hear. She'd floo him again later.

Trekking up the slope with hands snuggled warm inside her faux-fur-lined pockets, Y/N inhaled the fresh earth surrounding her. This was her calling. Nature. Adventure. The unknown. She was fantastic with spells and jinxes and once thought of becoming an Auror—but Aurors spent too much time indoors, on desks, drowning in paperwork and tailing dark wizards. She knew in her heart she wasn't born to enforce the law.

On the opposite side of the hill was a deep gorge between two towering mountains and a long serpentine stream. Elated at the sight, she followed the gentle flow of water over the rocks. Without thinking (because when does she ever), she slipped off her boots and socks, and despite the chilly morning, prepared to wade the ice-cold water. She dipped one toe in for good measure—a pause.

That couldn't be right.

Submerging one whole foot into the water confirmed her confusion. Strange. Almost all waterways in Romania led to the Black Sea, if not the Adriatic. Why was it warm?

This isn't the bathing stream she thought. The senior Curse Breakers back at camp had instructed them of assigned fresher areas where warming charms would be cast. She didn't remember this gorge being part of last night's tour.

Ankles deep in the water, Y/N trailed the soft currents. It was deliciously warm. A deliberate contrast to the icy breeze left by the trail ends of winter. It was supposedly mid-spring, but the winds still gave her the chills.

She took no notice of how far she was going, the water neither rising nor falling. If she were to guess it must've almost been half an hour given by the direction of the sun. The warm water and small pebbles were therapeutic beneath her feet. The walk didn't tire her at all.

Finally, the chasm's end came to view. Heart beating with excitement, she hastened her pace, dampening the legs of her trousers that she attempted to roll up. But just as her feet crossed the lip between the two mountains flanking her, she felt the oddest sensation: it began at the top of her head, traveling down her arms to her toes—as if a big fat raindrop landed on her scalp and entered her body.

She glanced at the clear blue sky. There was no cloud in sight for miles.

And then, it was suddenly very humid.

"What the..." she glanced back through the gorge. Nothing was out of order and nobody was in sight. Looking down at her feet, her surroundings were now as warm as the water she stood on. Her parka felt too thick.

Again, strange.

Trying to shake away her curiousness, Y/N trudged on.

All is well she chanted inside her head. All is well and the wind just blows differently on this side of the alps.

But no matter what she told herself, ripples of unease still disturbed Y/N. She was beginning to sweat and it wasn't just her nerves. The wind didn't blow differently on this side of the mountains because there was no wind. It was dry, dank, and very very warm.

To rattle her nerves even further, the water she was wading on was getting hotter as she went on that she had to leap on land once again. But as soon as her bare soles made contact with the grass, she yelped in pain.

"Merlin—OW."

The earth was burning. As if it bathed in the sun for too long. As if she were in the middle of a dry desert. She knew the feeling, she's been to Egypt. But why the bloody hell would Romanian soil feel this hot? Moreso in the heart of the Southern Carpathians?

Locating a jutted-out slab of rock, Y/N hopped over to sit and gather her bearings, drying her damp feet and staring at her boots and socks. She didn't want to slip them back on. The heat was intense. But it was either the boots or the sizzling soil.

She shrugged off her parka after lacing up her boots and was grateful for her reckless choice of wardrobe this morning. She opted for a ribbed shirt under her jacket—instead of a sweater—in urgent intention to get away from a nagging Bill. Now it served her well. It wasn't as thin as she would have deemed appropriate for the current temperature, but at least her neck and arms could breathe.

Gazing over the expanse of the clearing she emerged in, she suddenly became aware of the lack of green in the area. The grass was almost a withering brown—crunchy and dry. Trees weren't scattered about like the thick oaks all over the Curse Breaker camp; instead, they were clumped, almost systematically, in relatively rectangular patch formations. As if deliberately rooted as such.

Muggles Y/N thought. It was only them who had the peculiar habit of reorganizing nature.

Tying her parka around her waist, she treaded the clearing, the grass crisp beneath her boots, and approached the nearest cluster of trees. She wondered if this were one of the areas they'd be digging up. Senior Curse Breaker Digby Youssif oriented them of specific crackdown areas to look forward to in the next few months. Although almost all wizarding families were well-accounted for in Romania, there were still trifling amounts of intel on hidden vaults under protective spells cast by untraceable ancient tribes.

Y/N loved digging assignments. She was particularly fond of discovery. And if Ancient Runes was Hogwarts' least-loved lesson, she rather enjoyed Professor Babbling's classes. Well, most of the time. It was her pride and joy to have snagged an 'Outstanding' for her O.W.Ls—

Crack!

A sudden gust of wind whipped through the trees ahead of her. On instinct, Y/N drew her wand from her belt loop. Nothing was so dangerous about the wind. But it felt so...

The sound came out of nowhere, she thought it was imagining it. A steady drumming beat. Powerful and humming. An engine? she thought. But that was impossible. They were told that the area was blocked off from muggles for the duration of their stay. She paused in front of a towering ashtree. The sound was growing louder and louder. Nearer. She didn't know why but she was compelled with the need to hide.

Climb.

She felt ridiculous, clambering up an ashtree and settling on its thickest branch. Her superiors back at camp were clear that the mountains were safe, its perimeters were secured for their dig. Curse Breakers always made sure missions wouldn't come across outside interference.

Then why was her heart beating so fast?

The drumming sound was growing nearer. Behind her—above.

Peering at the sky through the leaves, a massive dark figure swooped overhead and landed with an earth-shaking thud on the clearing right in front of her tree.

Y/N felt like she was going to choke on her own spit when a deafening, earsplitting roar echoed through the mountains.

Dragon.

Fully grown, enormous, and vicious-looking, the beast had emerald scales that glinted in the morning sun. Its body was bulky, way stockier compared to the common dragons in textbooks. It had a massive head that seemed even larger than its body, and on it sprouted two long glittering golden horns. Its claws had the same golden color, and it was rearing onto its hind legs, hunching over a figure... chewing...

All the breakfast Y/N had only hours before felt like rising up her throat. An enormous dragon only meters in front of her was chewing on a dead animal, clearly having his own meal. And there she was, perched on an ashtree, ready for dessert.

Don't panic she told herself, but feeling green. She's never faced a dragon on a mission before. They tackled them in her first year on the job—Curse Breakers didn't really need training, the task calling for hands-on work—but never in her life did she ever think she'd have to face a real dragon.

I don't have to face it Y/N thought, I just have to stay here until it flies away, and run back to camp.

Wiggling up to a squat, she eyed the neighboring branch a few feet to her right which was higher up and positioned behind a thicker cluster of leaves. It didn't require a jump, but more of a really careful split; hugging the trunk tightly, she stretched her right foot across, shifting her weight to her right leg, her arms choking the tree trunk in a death grip, legs spread wide midair—

"Scuzati-ma?"

Y/N didn't fall. Thank Merlin she didn't fall. But she lost her momentum in surprise and panic, her left foot sliding from the previous branch, making her push off the trunk in haste, throwing her weight across completely. She grabs a dangling thin branch above her at the last minute, her body tilted towards the forest floor.

A forest floor where a man now stood, peering up at her curiously.

She was breathing hard, her heart thumping erratically, both from the fear of falling and being heard by the dragon so close by.

"Er—esti bine?" the man asked. Y/N saw that he had his arms out as if braced to catch her if she fell. When she didn't answer, the man spoke again, "Ai nevoie de ajutor?"

She blinked down at him. "What?"

He chuckled. She hated it. It hurt her pride. "I said, do you need any help?"

He was loud. Too loud. She righted herself on the branch, pulling to lean back on the trunk behind her. Then risking a peek, she checked on the dragon who was still munching on the dead cow with gusto.

She looked back down to find the man with his eyebrows raised at her, his face painting amusement. It was impossible not to take note of his red mane pulled into a low bun. He looked awfully familiar... and he was going to get them killed.

"Could you," she whispered as loudly as she could, "keep your voice down?"

The man snickered once more, showing no effort of lowering his tone. "Why?"

"Are you blind?" she wanted to strangle him. "There's a bloody dragon!"

The redhead glanced at the scaly beast and heaved out a sigh. "Okay. Yeah, you're right. It's way past breakfast. He's missing nap time."

Y/N looked at him incredulously. He shrugged, "But what can I do? He slept in this morning. Lazy beast." Looking back up, he asked, "Want to meet him?"

He's mental she thought. That had to be it.

But the redhead only laughed. He keeps laughing. He must've noticed the stupefied expression on her face because he simmered. "Give him a minute and you can come down. It's already his fifth haul so he's bound to get dozy and fly back to the nest." He started walking towards the clearing when he paused and turned back, "Although, you can come down now. I promise he won't eat you."

Y/N watched as the man walked up to the feasting dragon—she was peering behind the thick tree trunk, using it as a shield. He's insane. Drawing a wand from a sheath attached to his calf, the man aimed a stunning spell right by the beast's tail.

"Alright, Darius, I think you've had enough," he called. He kept his distance, a good few meters away, but his gait was calm, almost lazy.

The dragon glanced at the man, its fangs bloody. Y/N wanted to grab the redhead and run. But it was a crazy thought, and she was rooted on her spot on the tree branch, frozen in fear.

The man gave a sharp whistle and the dragon grunted, smoke coming out of its nostrils. It ignored him and continued to munch on the cow.

Another stunning spell was aimed right by its claws and the dragon emitted a low growl. Y/N didn't know if she was imagining it but the creature seemed sluggish on its feet, swaying... almost drowsy.

"Off you go," said the man, "up." He sent one more stunning spell right in front of its snout. It was a clear miss, purely intentional.

The dragon heaved a loud angry roar. But instead of diving for the man like she expected, it started flapping its wings, gaining momentum. Y/N held onto the tree trunk tighter so as not to be swayed by the sudden rush of winds the creature was yielding. And then with a strong push off the ground, up it soared, growling low in its throat, and was out of sight.

Y/N's legs felt like jelly slugs, but her arms refused to let go of the tree trunk. What in Merlin's name just happened?

"Y/N."

She gave a short yelp, coughing on her next breath. "Excuse me?"

The man was back, now by the foot of the tree once again. "Come down."

"How do you know my name?" she demanded.

He had a really handsome smile. A really familiar, handsome smile...

"I should be offended," said the man. "Come down." There it was again, that smile. "I'll catch you."

I'll catch you.

I'll catch you....

 "Come on, Y/N, I'll catch you!"

"No you won't!" said Y/N. Her cheeks were wet with tears.

She was perched on the beech tree by the Black lake, her legs dangling above the shallow water. She had attempted to retrieve her Spellman's Syllabry textbook that Cassian Loxias chucked up the branches for fun.

"Yes I will, I promise," consoled Charlie. "I'm a prefect, remember?" he gestured to his badge, "I'll make sure you're safe."

Sniffing up snot that was escaping her nose, she hiccuped softly against the back of her hand. "Our prefect doesn't do that very much."

Charlie chuckled. "I'll make sure to have a word with Professor Sprout about her Hufflepuff prefects."

When he saw the horror on her face, he held up his hands, "It didn't come from you of course. Will you come down now? I swear I'll catch you."

Y/N looked into Charlie Weasley's eyes and saw nothing but pure candor. Biting her lip, she said, "Do cross your heart, or hope to die?"

He traced a cross right above his chest. "Cross my heart, or hope to die."

 "Y/N. Y/N?"

Y/N blinked.

Charlie Weasley. Charlie dragon-tamer Weasley. Charlie the hot brother Weasley—

"Are you still breathing? Do you need me up there?"

Trying to gather her bearings, Y/N extracted herself from her hold on the tree trunk, went down onto a squat, and leaped off, landing on the crunchy grass with a thump.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at her as she dusted her trousers, "I see you don't need catching anymore."

She took in the man before her. "Charlie Weasley."

His grin was dazzling."Caught on, have you?

From up close, Y/N could now see the familiar freckles splattered all over his nose and cheeks. He was towering over her like he always did. She used to be the little second year Hufflepuff always idling by the entrance to the Great Hall hoping to bump into the famous Charlie Weasley. Studying on the Quidditch pitch, watching him behind her textbook, captaining the Gryffindor team. Climbing the beech tree by the lake again and again, hoping Charlie Weasley would somehow walk by once more to offer her a hand...

There were so many things she could've done, seeing him again for the first time after all these years. He was gone as soon as he graduated Hogwarts, flying to Romania to study dragons. Everyone always thought Charlie would be going Quidditch pro, being captain and seeker. He had the build, the skills, and the charm. Hogwarts alone had fan clubs in his name and rumor had it that the Falmouth Falcons were just waiting for him to finish seventh year.

But others didn't see Charlie as Y/N did. They didn't see him hoarding books on care of magical creatures in the library. They didn't notice him sneaking off to Hagrid's on the weekends, taking Fang for walks or feeding the Blast Ended Skrewts in the garden. Nobody paid attention to the copy of Fantastic Beasts And Where to Find Them that Charlie practically glued to his side. Only Y/N did. And now that she thought about it, she didn't like that she knew so much. It made her feel like a creep.

So instead of hugging him in delight like she actually wanted, she took a swipe at his shoulder.

"You git," she hissed. "You scared me to death! How did you do that? I thought taming dragons was impossible."

"It is. Most of the time," Charlie shrugged. "Darius is a Romanian Longhorn. Mostly harmless compared to the others especially when he's full. Not that difficult to send him back to the nest when he can barely stand on his feet."

"Harmless? I could've been dessert!"

Charlie laughed. He was still always laughing. "You look delicious, yes, but I'm not letting Darius have you."

What the fu—Y/N inhaled slowly, cautiously. Then exhaled through her nose. She didn't know how to respond. Seeing him again after so long, without warning or preparation, was messing with her senses

"It's good to see you, Y/N," he said and walked closer. Close enough to tugged at her braid. She didn't know why he did it, but he looked like he just had to. "You look good."

Y/N's heart was beating rapidly once more, but this time, for all the wrong reasons. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Charlie gazed back into her eyes as if seeing her for the first time.

"Too long."

Again, she didn't know how long it took her to reply, but she cleared her throat, "How—did you know it was me? The first time?"

Charlie's eyes were still roaming all over her face. "No. Not until you spoke."

Y/N must've held a questioning look because he added, "I'll never forget that voice."

He was saying such strange things. Were they strange? Or was it just because he affected her so?

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

"Well, you wouldn't come down, would you? I see you still have a thing for trees."

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"I didn't know the dragon reservation was in the alps," she said. "Do you know we're camping nearby?"

"'Course I do. You lot are beside dragon territory for a reason."

Excitement and fear raised Y/N's nerves. "What are you talking about?"

Charlie bit his lip. "You'll see."

"Are we digging in the reservation?"

He was walking out into the clearing now, beelining back towards the opening of the gorge.

"Charlie!" Y/N jogged to keep up. "Are we?"

He only smiled, "Patience, darling."

Darling. He used to call her that all the time even when they were back in Hogwarts. She always tried to ignore the fluttering feeling her chest made when he used the endearment, reminding herself that he must've used it on everyone else, not just her.

"Why did no one back at camp tell us anything?"

"I probably should've kept my mouth shut," was his only reply. They were crossing the two mountains flanking the stream, and as soon as they cut through the border, Y/N felt the same sensation she did when she went through the clearing. But this time in reverse, it was as if the raindrop was sucked back up.

She glanced up at the mountains. "Did you feel that?"

"Shield spells," explained Charlie. "To keep the muggles out. Temperature charms as well to regulate the reservation climate. Although the dragons do enough of their warming on their own, it's for precaution."

They walked up the stream, tracing back Y/N's previous path.

"Are you bringing me back to camp?" she asked.

"That, and I have to see Digby. Iron out tomorrow's schedule."

"So we are digging inside the reservation," Y/N didn't know if she was more thrilled or afraid.

Charlie glanced at her, "You heard nothing from me."

Studying his features as they strolled, Y/N couldn't help but admire how much Charlie Weasley grew up to be. He's always been lean and strong, especially with being an athlete back at Hogwarts, but now he seemed so much larger than life. Red tendrils were escaping his low bun and framing his chiseled face, there were a few scars on his nose and one under his lip. She shouldn't have been able to see it but she couldn't stop staring. He was big. Stockier than she'd ever seen him; hands wrapped in gauze and rope slung over a hook on his hip.

Charlie Weasley, dragon-tamer.

And he was staring right back at her.

"You have to take me to see more dragons," Y/N breathed. She didn't know where her voice went. It was all airy and she didn't like it. She hoped he would assume it was because of their walk.

Charlie stopped, deep brown eyes boring into her own. He was panting slightly too. Maybe it was the walk.

"Okay," he exhaled. "Promise."

"Cross your heart?" she almost whispered. Almost.

Two fingers traced a cross over Charlie's chest, his gaze not leaving hers, "Cross my heart."

#by gabi #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley fluff #hp post war #charlie weasley x fem!reader #i have no idea where this idea came from but here it is #there will be a part 2! #part 2 coming soon

[hardskz]

bow down.

pairing — bang chan x genderneutral! reader

genre — modern royalty au, drama-ish, smut; sexual tension-ish, hand kink, brat tamer! chan, degradation, leg humping, humiliation

synopsis — you have eyes. prince bang chan is a whole snack. but you also have too high of an ego and can’t seem to accept that prince chan isn’t full of himself unlike the other dozen members of any royal family you’ve met before. alternatively, this is the disney channel movie ‘princess protection program’ but make it porn only.

note — this fic with a wc of 7k+ does not include any spoilers to the movie and you don’t even have to know what the movie is about you’ll get the gist as you read. ngl half of this is from one of my drafts from like 3 years ago and i never continued it so here i am turning it into filth hahahah (and i needed a fresh idea for brat tamer chan and hence why i think the sfw part is better written than the nsfw lmao) rip also pls accept this as the follower milestone gift and 1 year anniversary special :’)

“I’m pretty sure I asked for a puppy for my birthday — which was three months ago may I add — not for a new roommate?”

You look back and forth between Youngjae and the stranger sitting on the couch who is staring back at you with a curious expression. He looks around your age and you admit, his face isn’t the kind of face that makes you thank your parents that genetics did a decent job on you. It’s quite the opposite, actually.

His face is the type of face that makes you ask your parents why genetics didn’t do a better job on yours. Okay, you haven’t reached that stage of visual inferiority yet but that’s mainly because he is dressed in clothes that were trendy in the 15th century or something. The garments clinging to his skin look like a bad fusion of a suit (which college student wears a suit in their free time?) and the ridiculous costume the marching band at your former high school had worn whenever a football game was up. And those weird golden pins clipped on the blazer makes it seem as if he used to be in the marines or comes from a royal bloodline or—

Oh. 

“Don’t mind my cousin, your Highness. (y/n)’s humor has always been questionable.”  Youngjae sends you a glare before he puts on his sweetest smile — you know, the act he puts on whenever he tries to negotiate a bonus with his boss or woo his date — and opts to ignore your presence. “Anyway, since we are dealing with a more serious issue at hand than originally expected, we need to give you a makeover to—“

Before he gets to finish his sentence, you violently tug him away from the prince and despite Youngjae thrashing around and complaining, you manage to send the guest a forced smile and leave his vision. The moment you let go of Youngjae in the neighboring room, he readjusts his collar. “What? Couldn’t you have waited once I was done? Also, was it necessary to crinkle my collar this much?” he hisses but you get straight to the point.

“What is he doing here?”

“Uh, sitting on the couch?”

“That’s not what I mean.” you grit your teeth and land a punch on his arm. “What is he doing here?”

Youngjae looks over your shoulder, making sure that what he’s about to say next is only heard by you. “Prince Chan is,” he hesitates, unsure how to approach his topic. You know it’s taking up his last nerves to conclude a logical explanation as the tip of his tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips; a habit he has adapted ever since he stopped chewing on his bottom lip. “The predicament he’s in is worse than we expected. Well, his dad is partially at fault because he forgot to tell us this not-so-small critical detail that—“

“Youngjae, you’re rambling.”

“The point is.” he sighs and gives you a distressed look as if he already knows you’re not going to like the information at all. “We can’t send him to the family in Goyang, the place he was originally going to stay in. He’s one of the more extreme cases and the Board agreed that he had to live with one of the active combatants to ensure his safety.”

Silence engulfs the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for you to count two and two together.

“He’s going to live here,” you deadpan eventually and Youngjae nods in confirmation.

“I know you’re not very happy—“

“Not very happy is underwhelming.” You earn a flick against your forehead and yelp in pain as you over the spot he just hit. “Ow! I was just stating the truth!”

“Will you stop interrupting me? Geez. Yes, I know that you’re not happy at all. I know that you’re not a huge fan of the majority of our family working in this business. But please do me this one favor or so help me God— try to be nice to him for the next year.”

“He’s staying for a year?” you shriek and in the blink of an eye, Youngjae clamps your mouth shut.

“Can you keep it down?!” he whisper-yells, then retreats his hand and reverts to a conversational tone with a frown. “It’s just a year, okay? Y’know, just... say hi to him whenever you see him. Act civilized.”

You grimace as he stresses his last words like you didn’t know what human decency was. The longer you keep the petrified expression on your face, the more it turns into a staring contest between the two of you. Just as if you were each other’s reflection, you mimic his actions and vice versa. When Youngjae squints, you squint. When you shoot him a glare, he returns it. It all boils down to the final blink that Youngjae feints and you’re the first to look away.

“Okay fine! I’ll try to behave,” you mumble in defeat.

A satisfied smile makes its way on Youngjae’s lips. “It’s always nice negotiating with you.”

Being born into a family where the majority works for the royalty protection program (short: RPP or as you like to stylize it: argh-pee-pee), also known as the secret service for people with crowns on their heads, comes with many perks. In your eyes, this privilege comes with many, many downsides that aren’t worth the advantages. Sure, there is the one or other occasion where you can waltz around in fancy evening attire and attend an actual ball, but overall, it’s a pain in the ass.

Even though it’s prohibited to openly declare that you work for the RPP, the news always finds its way out. Usually, it takes approximately a week for pretty much half of the neighborhood to find out. And it certainly isn’t nice hearing whispers about your dad being that guy working for the program whenever you step out of your house, which is ultimately why you moved in with your cousin Youngjae. (Housing in your small town wasn’t really affordable for a dirt poor college student after all!)

Youngjae has always been your favorite cousin out of the... whatever number of cousins you have. But here’s the thing. He also works for the RPP.

However, somehow he managed to — and up to this day it still remains a mystery to you how on earth he did that — keep his job a secret. Especially with his tendency to dish out the worst kinds of secrets when he’s slightly tipsy. Frankly, you once considered printing out the image of a trophy for that remarkable feat.

With your dad and cousin both active in that business (because organization sounds too shady), it’s not the first time you meet a prince, so you already know how the entire thing works. The concept is quite simple; they get sent to a household but before they settle in and take on a fake identity until their circumstances have improved, they undergo a makeover. Most of the time, it ends up in the glow up you secretly crave but in Prince Chan’s case, you suppose he can’t get any more attractive.

Oh boy. You’re in for a ride.

You’re busy slicing bell peppers for the meal you were cooking when both your cousin and the prince enter the kitchen and Youngjae explicitly demands you to pay them attention. You don’t react immediately, but the moment he threatens to swipe the knife away from you, you perk up and set your desire to prepare your fried rice aside.

“(y/n), uh, hi? I’m Bang Chan and I’ll be your new housemate for a year. I hope we can get along.” Chan recites his introduction without any mistakes and earns a way too brotherly pat on the back from Youngjae, considering that they just met this morning. It’s truly amazing how fast Youngjae can get people to warm up to him. 

Chan is stripped out of his weird clothes and instead, looks like he threw on the next best thing lying around in his room. Nonetheless, despite the seemingly little effort that was put into the outfit, it looks oddly good. The stylists didn’t seem to do much to his hair and just parted his bangs a little, so one could catch a slight glimpse of his forehead. It’s just a small detail, but you find yourself liking his current appearance much more appealing than before, though you’re pretty sure his clothes played a major part in your previous distaste. 

“Remember Jihyo?” Youngjae interrupts your train of thought. “She’s Chan’s relative. And because I’m the genuine friend who loves to help her out, I decided to agree to this after she went down on her knees and begged me to let Chan live with us for a while—“

“I’m not interested in your blown up, fictional background stories, thank you very much.” you backtrack. “Wait. Did you say Jihyo? Seriously? Jihyo is his alibi?” Of course, you remember Jihyo. It’s quite difficult to forget her when Youngjae used to swoon about her at every hour of the day, back when they were a thing. Besides, she still stops by every few months.

“C’mon, you have to admit there is a similar vibe between them!” 

You furrow your brows and inspect Chan a second time. Your gaze wanders back to Youngjae and then returns to Chan anew. It’s obvious that the latter is feeling as if he were up for auction and you can’t really blame him for feeling so uncomfortable. You’ve heard from a few friends that if looks could kill, you’d have the highest killing record. 

There’s no similar vibe in your view, but for the sake of entertaining Youngjae’s thoughts: “He does seem similar to Jihyo.”

“Told ya. But back to more important matters,” Youngjae coughs and wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, but it somehow seems as if he’s opting to strangle you. “My duties are calling, so I won’t be back until late. You look like you could need some help with cooking, by the way. I’m sure Chan right here is willing to help you!”

“I’m almost done though—“ you choke when he tightens his embrace. By now, his arm is no longer hugging your shoulder, but rather crushing your throat.

“You look like you could need some help,” he repeats, this time with added urgency. “It’d be a great opportunity for you to bond since you’ll also share pretty much all classes at uni. Did you know, he has the same major as you! Besides, it’d be a very useful life experience for him if he helped you with cooking.”

“Of course, how fun!” you hiss, voice going an octave higher from the lack of oxygen. “I already said that I’m painfully delighted about that, so you can let me go now, Youngjae!”

A sneer and a jab in his arm later, Youngjae finally takes his leave. That nasty liar, leaving an hour earlier than his schedule stated. You know that silently cursing at him isn’t going to make your problems dissolve because that’d be a dream come true.

“Listen, let me get things straight.” you sigh, picking up the knife to resume chopping your vegetables. Youngjae may have ordered you to act civilized, but having eye contact with Chan when you’ve been starving for the past hour isn’t your priority. Food doesn’t make itself. “I don’t have any intention of getting close to you and I expect the same from you. Don’t step a foot into my room, don’t talk to me unless absolutely necessary, and don’t think I’ll run around and do your chores or cook your meals like one of your little servants. Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you’ll be treated like one under this roof.”

“We live in the 21st century, not the renaissance. Your idea of royal families is very dated.” Chan chuckles dryly.

“Baron Yoon Jeonghan from the seven islands is a stuck-up prick and out of touch with the world. It took him several visits to the slums, multiple voluntary hours at the kindergarten, and stripping him off his bank card to make him see reason,” you deadpan. Fuck Baron Jeonghan. Just thinking about your first and last encounter with that entitled douchebag almost makes you slice your finger instead of the bell pepper. “Duchess Yoo Shiah threw a hissy fit when she found out her clothes weren’t dry cleaned and bought from Zara instead of fucking Dior. The one who takes the cake when it comes to privilege is Princess Kim Min—”

“Everyone knows they are problematic,” Chan interjects. True, he has a point. There’s nobody out there who doesn’t know about Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah but he’s also missing the entire point.

“And guess who gets stuck under the care of the RPP?” you raise a brow at him. He blanches at the realization as if he got struck with lightning. Perhaps you should give him more credit because he seems to own more brain cells than Baron Jeonghan. “Exactly. Everyone problematic.” 

Chan’s jaw is clenched as he racks his brain to come up with a smart comeback. The sight of him stumbling on his words is nothing but pitiful, so you turn back to the cutting board and grab an onion to slice in half. “I’m not interested in your sob story, your Highness. I don’t care why you’re under the protection of the RPP. The only thing I care about is that you stay out of my business.”

“Chan is fine. No need for the title,” he sighs with a strain. “Perhaps I should’ve been more considerate with my first comment. Youngjae already told me about your… negative attitude towards the entire setup. It wasn’t my intention to anger you. Sorry.”

Well, that’s new. Out of the dozens of aristocrats you’ve met (and sadly also shared a house with back when you were 16 years old and still living with your dad), he’s the first to drop his title within five minutes for the sake of the disguise and apologize. 

“We live under the same roof so we should get along with each other. If there’s something you need help with, just ask me, (y/n).”

“Thanks for the offer,” you reply nonchalantly because act civilized unless you want to suffer from a late-night sneak attack from Youngjae if he finds out. “But no thanks. I don’t need your help.”

You find yourself in need of help a few weeks later, right before the dreaded exam season.

“No. Forget it, Bam. I’m not going out clubbing with you tonight. In fact, I won’t do that anytime soon.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you try to break down to your friend that you prioritize your grades over his need of getting wasted.

“C’mon!” he whines so loudly that you have to put your phone farther away from your ear. “You’re not in that much stress yet! You have to make the most out of it before you drown in your exams.”

“Things are different for engineering students like, uh, me for example!” you hiss. “I fell behind and need to catch up. Ask Yugyeom or Changbin.”

“First of all, Yugyeom is always at the bar doing his job. And Changbin never picks up his phone. There’s nobody who’d dance with me!”

“You abandoned me at the bar for some chick the last time,” you deadpan. “I’m very sure you’ll find someone.”

Bambam finally gets the gist and gives up. “Fine then. Your loss. Have fun dying in numbers and variables instead of living in the moment. You’re going to regret it—”

You end the call and set your phone on mute before throwing it on the bed. Sometimes you wonder whether you were on drugs when you decided to major in engineering. The longer you stare at the jumble of numbers and letters — some of them in Greek too — the more you think your brain cells are decaying.

That’s how you find yourself in the kitchen, complaining at Youngjae’s expense and telling him how much you’d rather drown in bleach than subjecting yourself to Algebra II. 

“You know there’s someone you can ask for help and he’s right here,” Youngjae drawls before chugging down the rest of his beer. If he’s going to be a victim to your temper tantrum about a major that you chose yourself, he might as well get a drink so he won’t go insane from your monologue about numbers and graphs and formulas he’s forgotten since he graduated from high school.

You gawk at him. “You? Are you hearing yourself? You almost failed maths. Twice!”

“Because I didn’t mean myself, dipshit,” he says blankly and his eyes flit over your shoulder, “Speaking of the devil. There comes the man of honor.”

You whip your head back to the door to see Chan enter confusedly. “Uh, did I interrupt something?”

“Yes.”

“No, we were just talking about you!”

You send Youngjae a death glare which he casually shrugs off. “(y/n) here is bitching about her Statistics I class and needs a tutor!”

“It’s actually Algebra II if you bothered to pay attention—”

“(y/n) needs a tutor!” Youngjae exclaims and nearly trips on his feet when he gets up from his chair. “Channie, I heard you’re good with numbers. Didn’t you get accepted into all Ivy Leagues in the States for all engineering programs?”

“You didn’t have to word it like that,” Chan laughs it off and nervously rubs the back of his head. He’s not denying it though.

“Obviously he would. He’s loaded and lives in a castle,” you mutter under your breath, but everyone catches it.

“Hey,” Youngjae warns. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“It’s alright,” Chan says casually. “I just wanted to get myself a snack. But if you have some questions, don’t hesitate to knock on my door. The offer still stands, y’know.” He digs through the cabinet until he finds two packs of the strawberry flavored Pocky knockoff that is 1) apparently his favorite thing to eat and 2) half the price of the Pocky version. He gives Youngjae a thumbs up before he returns to his room.

The moment Chan is out of sight, Youngjae whips his head to you, nostrils flaring. All that’s missing is steam coming out of his ears and his face running red and then he looks like the impetuous brother in every kids cartoon ever. “Really? He’s been staying with us for how long now? Four weeks? Five? Yet you’re still acting as if he murdered you in your dreams or something.”

“I don’t like him,” you state coldly. Youngjae looks like he’s about to rip his hair out.

“Look, I get that you don’t like me being active in this field of work, and I get that you have some hatred against the royal families. But you know you signed up for this when you decided to move in with me.” Youngjae pauses to get a breather and pop a new beer bottle open. “Besides, Chan isn’t like Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah. I have eyes, (y/n), and I’ve seen you two avoiding each other as much as possible. And he doesn’t just laze around — he does the fucking chores and cooks dinner too! Chan is good, (y/n).”

The last words make you snap. “Good? Are you fucking serious? Because that’s why the press in his kingdom is depicting him as a tyrant who cares more about building his sick harem instead of helping the poor. And wasn’t he diagnosed for having anger management issues?!”

All the color leaves Youngjae’s face. This is obviously something you shouldn’t know. While he’s scrambling for words, you take the chance to add, “Dunno why you’re protecting him when he’s making headlines as a prince who can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

“Chan isn’t just a prince,” Youngjae says quietly. “He’s the crown prince.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “What? Isn’t that even worse with that reputation he has?”

“It’s all propaganda,” he sighs and takes a swig, “The ministers are doing everything they can to finish him off. You see, Chan is the only child of the current king of the seven islands, and if he’s wiped out, it’ll be utter chaos. Chan’s smart and I admit, he used to have anger issues, but he’s worked on them. Though I guess he’s resorted to bottling up his feelings when push comes to pull. The point is, all the higher-ups don’t want him as their future king because they know that Chan is very much capable of pulling through with his own ideas and that doesn’t sit well with them. And a supposedly impulsive future king is the last thing anyone wants, hence why his people are eating up the news.”

“Oh.” you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel an ounce of remorse. However, it’s not the first time you’ve heard such stories. 

“Yeah. Oh,” Youngjae mocks, “If that’s the main reason why you don’t want to talk to him, now you know better. He might have power, but he’s not a monster. And for the record, he got into all Ivy Leagues and elite schools all over the world through his intelligence, not his status.”

Although you can see it in his eyes that Youngjae is done with the heated discussion, he’s still waiting for you to say something. You frown. “So… you think he’s a good tutor?”

“He’s your only shot.” Youngjae says nonchalantly, then adds with a warning tone, “But remember: Act. Civilized. Oh, and don’t tell him I told you about his circumstances. It’s supposed to be confidential information.”

You roll your eyes. How the fuck hasn’t Youngjae been busted yet?

Nonetheless, you’re trudging to Chan’s door a few minutes later, your fat binder of incomprehensible math formulas and (Greek) letter heavy in your arm. Chan opens the door with surprise etched on his face after you knocked, but it settles to warmth when you begrudgingly ask him to help you understand Algebra II. 

“Sorry, it’s a little messy here,” he chuckles airily once he lets you in. It’s not messy per se, just a few clothes piled up in a corner of the room and some books and messily written notes lying on his bed. Still, it’s by far cleaner than the pig stall that is Youngjae’s room (and yours when you’re having a very bad day).

Chan clears his desk and drags his other chair to the table before plopping down on it. “So, what’s the problem?” Instead of answering, you just shove a sheet of paper up his face. “Y’know, you can talk to me. If this is about earlier, it’s really alright. I’m not mad or anything,” he says with the same friendly tone you’ve been hearing ever since he moved in, yet he still takes the sheet from you. You watch his brows scrunch together the more he reads on, and you can already see the question forming in his mind.

“(y/n), you do know this is the basis to understand—”

“I was absent when the professor covered it and everyone I asked couldn’t quite explain it to me,” you respond before he can finish speaking out his thoughts. “All my friends were like—” you gesture with your hands, “—you just do this and that and then hope your hunch is right. Before you say it, yes I know that I don’t get the material of one entire unit and the exam is two weeks away.”

“Then let’s not waste any time,” Chan says before grabbing his iPad. You stare at him blankly as he writes something on his tablet. The last thing you expected from him was to accept it and try to hammer as much of missing information as he can into your brain, but then again, you’ve never seen him backtrack whenever Youngjae asks him something. Speaking of Youngjae, perhaps he is right. Chan does seem to know what he’s talking about.

“You have to subtract X first, then replace it with Y,” he explains as he circles said letters in different colors. By now, you’ve leaned closer to him to get a better view on what he’s writing (his handwriting isn’t the worst you’ve ever had to decode; refer to Youngjae who you’ve internally awarded with the worst handwriting of the decade). 

Chan is exceptionally good at explaining. You feel like you’ve figured out a secret of the world that not even Pythagoras found out as you slowly understand what on Earth you are supposed to calculate with the formula. Chan is patient, always asking if you got it or if you needed another clarification, and takes the time to draw colorful graphs to visualize the jumble of numbers. His voice is pleasing to the ear too, soft and gentle to the point where you’ve blurred everything out except Chan. Chan’s voice. Chan’s hand.

You didn’t mean to stare, but with him always adding something new every five seconds as he goes on with his monologue, you can’t help but do so. His fingers aren’t long — that’ll always be courtesy of Hyunjin from Subway and yes, his very pretty hands might be the sole reason you only insist on going to that one specific Subway at the intersection next to KFC — but just one glance at Chan’s hand and you know that he’s strong. 

He’s barely applying pressure to the pen, but you can see the veins slightly protruding. Chan’s sleeves are pushed back and if you move your head a bit, you’re more than certain that veins are bulging out from his forearms too. However, you don’t muster up the courage to do that because Chan will definitely notice and the last thing you want on your platter is to tell him that you were too busy checking out his arms instead of listening to him talk about Algebra II.

Eventually, Chan sets the pen down to stretch his hand. He says something, but you don’t pick up what exactly. Not that it’d matter much anyway since you’re too busy admiring his hand—

“(y/n), you there? I called out your name several times but you didn’t react.” Chan’s breath hitches and surprise flashes in his eyes for a split second when his gaze meets yours. You don’t understand his hesitation, but then horror bubbles in you once you realize that his hand is firmly gripping your chin and keeping your head pointed at his direction. The very same hand you’ve been staring at for God knows how long. 

“I’m good. Just a little tired, but I’m good,” you stutter, though it comes out very breathlessly as if you just finished a marathon.

“Tired?” Chan echoes, concern settling into his features. “You should’ve said so, then I would’ve stopped talking. You need something?”

Now that you think about it, you’ve never got a close look at Chan. Sure, he’s handsome, the countless pictures of Google prove that he’s also too photogenic for his own good (goddamnit, why didn’t your parents make you just as photogenic?) but in person, he’s something else. His lips are plush and look very inviting to kiss, and the lower your eyes wander, the more you see a toned chest hidden underneath that damn shit that hugs him in all the right places.

Fine, his hands aren’t the only attractive thing about him. Then again, he’s a prince.

“I said I’m good.” you snap out of your thoughts and finally gather enough control over your nerves to tear his hand away. “And I caught everything you said.” Of course, you know that’s a blatant lie and he knows so too from the way he’s looking at you. That is until he quirks a brow.

“Okay, then what did I say before I called you?”

Your mouth feels dry. It’s almost as if he knew the reason for your distress. “I caught everything relevant to this,” you mutter, suddenly finding his curtains much more interesting. What an interesting design, maybe you should get yourself new curtains too—

“Then you wouldn’t mind solving these questions, right? Just so I can make sure that you got everything down.”

“Sure,” you reply because that’s the only thing you could say without hurting your ego and straining your vocal cords. Chan doesn’t comment any further and looks for some practice questions before sliding the iPad to you. Already the first question makes your head spin in disdain. Numbers? Variables? Never heard of them.

Chan is watching you like a hawk as you fiddle with the pen, unable to write down anything that makes remote sense. Feeling his eyes on you makes you feel helpless and you shift around in your seat. “What are you staring at?” you glare at him once you give up for good, and you just hope that your look is as intimidating as you pictured in your head.

“You’re definitely exhausted. You’re shaking,” Chan points out. Your eyes widen as you stare down and realize that your thighs are shaking, and it’s then and there when you realize that you’re feeling hot. Seems like Chan doesn’t realize that because the worry written on his face is genuine. “You say the exam’s in two weeks right? We can stop for today and work on this tomorrow. That is if you still want my help.”

You nod and add in a tiny voice, “Yes, please.”

You’re too busy ignoring the heat building between your thighs to notice the borderline feral sound that leaves Chan.

“And here I thought you had quality bonding time.” Youngjae gives a disappointed look. “You’re acting even colder towards him than before your exam meltdown. Your prick level can only stoop down so low.”

You ended up getting tutor lessons from Chan every day before the dreaded day of judgment: the exam in Algebra II. You spent more hours in his room than on your own if you were completely honest, and the results were fruitful. While you did manage to pass the exam with a fairly high score, the price you had to pay was hell.

It’s almost as if Chan caught up on your hand fixation. Sometimes he twirled the pen in his fingers, sometimes it was the simple bracelet dangling on his wrist. Just when you thought he had you figured out, he asks you if you’re alright, visibly oblivious to his effect on you. Such duality in a person should be illegal, you conclude. If you die from whiplash, you know who the perpetrator is.

“You were the one who pretty much pressured me into asking him for help,” you drawl.

“I had good intentions only! You can’t keep up the I-hate-royal-families-blah-blah mentality the entire time!” Youngjae wails before stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth.

“Watch me.” You internally cringe at the loud crunching sounds he’s making and add vigorously, “And stop chewing so loudly.”

“You’ll get around or so help me God—” he groans when his phone buzzes. He doesn’t spare a glance at the caller ID because there’s only one person who has set his ringtone to the baby shark song specifically for when he’s calling. “I gotta go, Jinyoung’s being a bitch again. Don’t murder somebody. Thanks.” You only watch him shuffle for his bag and grab a handful of chips before he’s out the door. Groaning, you clean up the mess he’s made on the table. 

Just as you’re done wiping the crumbs off the surface, Chan pads into the room. 

“Hey, can we talk?”

“I established right at the beginning that you should only talk to me when absolutely necessary.” you scowl, trying to walk past him.

“Well, this is important,” he urges and blocks the doorway, effectively stopping you from fleeing. “And I do deserve one conversation with you after I helped you out.”

“You offered on your own. That’s not the same as asking for a favor.” You successfully push your way past him, but in the next moment, he spins you around and pins you against the wall. 

“We’re going to talk, whether you like it or not.” The sudden coldness of his tone has shivers running down your spine. Chan holds your wrist in an iron grip and if he clutched on any tighter, you wouldn’t put it past him to break your bones. Out of options, you comply and give him a curt nod before he lets go and takes a step back. 

“I don’t understand you, (y/n). I genuinely thought you would put your prejudices aside but instead, all I get are mixed signals from you.”

It’s your turn to gawk. “Me? Mixed signals? What are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about how you keep looking at me as if you want me to fuck your brains out.” If the color hasn’t drained from your face yet, it has now. Chan smiles wickedly at your horrified reaction but doesn’t stop there. “I’m talking about how you talk like you don’t want anything to do with me but act as if you’re begging for my attention.” He takes a step closer to you, and you wish you could morph with the wall. “I’m talking about how you keep staring at my hands and think I don’t notice it.” You wince when he rests his hands against the wall on each side of your face, leaning closer so that you can feel his breath on your lips. “So, you have a thing for my hands?” Bullseye.

“You’re so full of yourself. No wonder your ministers want to get rid of you,” you snap because you’d rather suffer from food poisoning than admitting that you want Chan’s fingers in you.

Something shifts within Chan. He gapes at you, clearly not expecting you to even know about the ministers. His demeanor darkens in a blink of an eye, and you feel like your legs are about to give up on you when you meet his eyes, black and feral.

“You’re playing with fire. Don’t anger me,” he warns, voice low and rough.

“So it’s true that you resorted to bottling up your feelings, your Highness?” you cock your head to the side. Chan clenches his jaw at the mention of his title, struggling to keep his anger in check. You laugh through your nose, then grab one of his hands and force it away from the wall. If he already knows that you’re thirsting after him, might as well go for it. “It’s funny how your ministers aren’t able to string you around like a puppet yet here you are, unable to do anything against a commoner. You know you have nice hands and you know my weakness and yet, you’re not using them on me.” He gulps when you fumble with his fingers. 

And then he understands.

“Unless I misread the situation,” he says darkly, though you distinguish the slight tremor his voice carries. “Do you really want this? I’m not going to go easy on you.” Chan is dead serious, judging by the way he’s looking at you expectantly. 

“The safe word is petunia.” You don’t take your eyes off him and add in a louder tone, “Now try me, do your worst.”

“You’re going to regret wanting me at my worst,” Chan growls and before you know it, he crashes his lips against yours. The kiss is anything but sweet, more of a clash of teeth and tongues and saliva dribbling down your chins, yet it leaves you boiling hot and wobbly on your feet. He presses you up against the wall and forces his leg between yours, the sudden contact making you hunch forward. You moan against his mouth when he tugs harshly on your hair, the sting making your nerves go haywire. In the meantime, your hands roam his upper body, blunt nails digging into his shoulders as you try to buck your hips against his leg. While he doesn’t budge, you manage to elicit a groan out of him.

When you pull away, you’re both gasping for air. Chan’s hair is disheveled from the way you’ve been pulling on them, lips pink and glossy. One look in his eyes is enough to make your heart stop beating. They’re dark and animalistic and set ablaze with unfiltered lust. You’re such in a daze from a simple kiss that you nearly stumble when Chan drags you to his room.

He manhandles you on his bed with ease before his lips latch on yours once more. You nearly sob when he rids you off your pants, putting pressure in all the right places to have you losing your mind. As you’re about to gain back some dominance in the kiss, he breaks it off. His fingers that were once ghosting over your underwear are now tracing patterns all over the material, making you spasm. “You’re such a brat, all bark but no bite. All it takes is one kiss and you’ve lost all your fight. Can you get any more pathetic?” he mocks as he focuses his fingertips directly on the wet patch of your underwear. Your eyes roll back as he rubs on the same spot, the broken moans leaving you eerily similar to cries. “Don’t tell me you’re about to come like this. How sensitive are you?”

“Am n-not—” you cut yourself off with a whimper when he lets the waistband snap against your skin.

“Yeah, you sure about that?” he grins and that’s when you break, feeling your high approaching at lightning speed. 

“Don’t wanna come like this—” 

“But I thought you’re not sensitive?” the satisfied grin just widens with every syllable that leaves his lips. “If you don’t want to come like this, all over your underwear, beg.” 

Chan applies even more force to your sensitive spots, and you struggle to have a clear thought. The smirk he delivers is lethal, and you couldn’t be any more convinced that he’s the devil’s incarnate.

“I’ll do anything, please. Don’t let me come like this, that’s all I’m a-aah-asking for,” you weep, your blood nearly boiling at its climax, “I’ll even take a punishment!”

“Say my name,” he orders, fingers still drawing circles.

“Your—”

“My name, not my title.”

Your breath hitches as you finally realize what he’s aiming for. He wants you to remember that it’s him who’s reducing you into this illiterate mess. Him, the one you’ve been despising since before you even met. If you still had any ounce of dignity left, you’d try to fix the power imbalance until you’re left with no choice but to obey, but now you’re so close and the last thing you want to do is come with your pants on.

“Please, Chan,” your voice breaks towards the end and in an instant, he pulls away. As you’re letting you’re basking in the break from his brutal tempo, not too affected by how your upcoming orgasm is fading away, Chan observes you.

And then out of nowhere, he flips you on your stomach and delivers a hard smack to your ass that has you screaming into the pillows.

“You said you’d take any punishment too, right?” You twitch as he rubs the small of your back. You can already imagine the handprints on your ass he continued to slap you with such force that has you moving up the bed. The pain that’s going to haunt you for days. Before you know it, you try to arch your back to lift your ass, but then the bed shifts. “But if you really think I’m going to spank you as a punishment, then you’re really fucking dumb. As if I’ll use my hands on you when we both know you love my hands.”

With that, he drops himself on his chair, spreading his legs that you can see the prominent tent forming in his pants. He orders you over with a flick of his finger, and just as you get up from the bed, a new wave of horror flushes over you.

“Crawl.”

The look you send him is priceless. There’s no fucking way you can do it. It’s just a few meters, nothing you can’t handle, but he’s there sitting on his Ikea swivel chair as if it’s his throne made of gold, watching your every movement like a predator. And then there’s you, only in a shirt and underwear, being forced to go on all fours as if you were his fucking dog—

The difference in power display couldn’t get any more visible. He really is the fucking worst.

“You’d really do anything, huh…” he muses as you drop on your hands and knees and crawl to him, never looking up. It’s only when he beckons you to stand up that you look at him with nothing but rage and shame in your eyes. Chan has always been slightly terrified with your death stare but right now, he can’t take it seriously and it shows. It shows in the way he smiles lopsidedly, in the way his brows quirk in amusement. “Now hump my leg.”

Humiliation runs through your body all over. Your fists are clenched as he waits for you to act, even pats his thigh in case you didn’t get the memo. But oh you do, and his thigh does look inviting.

“Hump my leg like the brainless bitch you are. If you want my hands or my cock, you earn it first. Especially since you treated me like shit ever since I moved in.” The last sentence burns you badly because he has a point. But then there’s the prospect of his hands and dick that’s bulging out of his pants. 

Pushing all thoughts away, you settle on his leg. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you tell yourself it’s all good and then you move. The first thrust knocks all air out of your lungs and you grab onto his shoulders for support. You didn’t even move that much, but Chan’s looking at you as if he’s about to fucking devour you and knowing that he is very much capable of moving you around, you’re starting to become overwhelmed.

Eventually, you lose yourself in the feeling of his rough jeans against your drenched underwear, humping on his thigh as your orgasm builds up. It’s silent, save for your pants, and the countless whimpers flying past your lips as your movements gradually become sloppier. You’re almost there and you know it. But so does Chan, and the moment he’s got it figured out, he lunges from your hips and forces you to pick up the pace. 

“Oh no, you’re going to come,” he growls, ignoring your pleas and sobs. Adrenaline courses in your blood and you know it isn’t long until you fall apart. You try to make him stop, even put your hands on his, but you don’t have the energy to actively push him away.

“Chan, please— I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna come? Then fucking come on my thigh, (y/n),” he snaps, and then adds, “You hear that? You’re about to come from humping my thigh.”

Maybe it’s the realization that he’s right, maybe it’s the way he’s worded it. Either way, it’s the last straw to make you spasm as you come, soaking your underwear and even managing to make a mess out of his pants. Chan makes sure you ride through your orgasm, only stopping to move your hips once you’re all spent and resting your head on his shoulder. Your eyes are glassy, vision foggy, but the only thing you can envision clearly is Chan.

Chan jolts when your hand grazes over his bulge. You’re about to undo his pants, but he’s quick to stop you and restrict your hands behind your back.

“You think you deserve my cock? Dream on. As if I would fuck any commoner, especially those who don’t respect me,” he spits, and you flinch at his choice of words, clearly recalling that you used the exact same terms and he’s now using it against you. “You said you’d take any punishment. Well, guess what? This was just punishment number one.”

#yes the ending is rushed oops sue me #may consider part 2 so heads up #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #smut.mine #dom!chan #sub!reader #crispy.txt

[mavda]

Beast Tamers

Ch.1 |  Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4(1) | Ch.4(2) | Ch.5(1) | Ch.5(2) | Ch.5(3) | Ch.5(4) | Ch.6(1) | Ch.6(2) | Ch.6(3) | Ch.7(1) | Ch.7(2) | Ch.7(3) | Ch.7(4) | Ch.7(5) | Ch.8(1) | Ch.8(2) | Ch.8(3) | Ch.9(1) | Ch.9(2) | Ch.9(3) |

Ch.9: No lies (4)

"Ah, you f-felt that?" 

Naruto stares at Hinata's round belly, where his hand covers her whole abdomen. 

"I did," he whispers. Still amazed at the movement going inside Hinata's body, at their baby moving. 

Hinata covers his hand with hers, moves it to the side of her stomach. "I think next is h-here." 

And she is correct. Naruto feels a kick in his hand a few seconds after, and he can feel in his chest something he can't explain yet. He crouches down and presses his lips to Hinata's pregnant belly. "Hello, baby."

She giggles and rests her hand on his hair. In love with him and the way he loves their child already. 

"So, dizziness and nosebleeds, is that all?" 

Naruto rests his ear on her stomach and Hinata ends up resting her hands on his arms. “N-nosebleeds sometimes, yes.” 

Naruto nods and hears her heartbeat against his ear. Her hand on his hair, her fingers sometimes tracing his whiskers. He closes his eyes and lets silence reign for a few seconds, before remembering something he wanted to talk to her about. “I’ve seen you taking your walks with Neji a lot these past few days.”

Her fingers stop for less than a second, and Naruto makes it as if nothing happened. 

“I h-have asked him t-to accompany me on my s-strolls.”

Which Naruto knows, because Sai has shared as much, but the question remains, “I thought you didn’t have that great of a relationship with him.” He remains on the floor, with his head on her, doing his best not to overwhelm her.

Hinata keeps quiet a second, but Naruto knows it is her putting her thoughts in order as her fingers trace absent-minded patterns across his cheek. 

“I… we have b-been talking about a lot of th-things. It’s been f-fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Uhm, we d-didn’t have the best ch-childhoods, I think.” Her voice gets lower, her breathing more controlled, “I… always wanted a r-relationship with him, I b-believe. He was the only one who… he w-was the only one who didn’t seem to h-hate me back then.”

Naruto raises his head, sits with his legs crossed facing her. Hinata looks at her hands, and doesn’t seem to want to look Naruto in the eyes. “He would do th-things that s-seemed to be for me, but then h-have the perfect excuse as to w-why do it for my f-father, so I thought… I w-wondered, you know, am I just a n-nuisance to him as w-well?”

Her voice is quiet, “I n-never knew… I couldn’t k-know, he barely talked b-back then,” she chuckles. Naruto offers his hand, touches hers with the softest of touches, and Hinata reciprocates, grabs his hand between hers. She is not crying. “It’s b-been good, talking to h-him. S-Sharing stories… having- h-having a relationship.”

Hinata fears tears will follow next, so she bites her lip. She knew she wanted to have a relationship with her cousin for a long time. For longer than a long time. He was the only thing keeping her from losing herself in screams and self-pity, he showed her the barest of kindness, the barest of encouragement and yet she treasured them, because that’s what they were in that house. Treasures. Tiny and yet important. 

She would have loved to receive more. 

And so she followed him. Bothered him. Looked for him for the things no one else would give her. And he did sometimes, and then he didn’t most times. And she still wonders whether it was duty or love or pity or a sense of at least being better off than her…

They still have yet to talk about the harsh stuff. They still have to talk about their actual relationship. Hinata yearns and fears that moment, but at least now… at least now she has a relationship with a person she holds so dear -against all odds-, a person she is ashamed to hold in such regards, and yet… 

She is so happy she can walk with Neji and talk about the weather without worrying about what’s gonna appear as they turn the next corner, about the people walking around them, about what’s going to be reported back to her father, about the disgusted face her father would give her as she came ba-

“I’m glad, then.” Naruto’s warm hand brings her out of her trance, as he gets closer and searches for her eyes, as his hands move up and down her arms, as he brings her in for a hug. She feels herself relax, lays her head on his shoulder and lets him pamper her. 

“Thanks, for… for t-taking care of him, t-too.”

Naruto remembers Neji’s silent work, as he asked for his help when Hiashi’s letter first came. The way he read the letter, explained what he thought all of this meant without even asking for them to be alone, his excellent work and his disposition. Never questioning Naruto, asking for permission to voice his opinions. 

Nothing like the rude man who had faced him that first time. 

Naruto tries to connect the rude man with the eager cousin. The cold asshole with the warm family member. But maybe none of that is important, because what he cares about is that his wife was able to make it this far with his… help. 

And thanks to that she is with him now, and Neji has shown nothing but his best behavior. So Naruto puts his worries to the side, “I love you.”

Hinata chuckles as she buries her face in Naruto’s shoulder. Nothing matters. Nothing matters because Naruto is here. 

Naruto wonders whether he should share with her his godfather’s news before his father arrives. But what would he say? And what would she say, too?

No answer is enough to let him relax, so he does the next best thing. He peppers kisses all over his wife’s face, filling the room with their laughs. And he remains quiet.

⁂⁂⁂

Minato arrives at the compound with Mito in tow and they stop in their tracks as they watch Jiraiya taking a stroll through the gardens with Naruto and Hinata. 

    Minato bolts towards his master, with a flustered Mito following behind. 

“Master!”

    “Oh, calm down, calm down, I’m not going anywhere!”

    Jiraiya is the one to bring the excitement down, with laughs and pats in the back that make Minato’s high come down in an instant. There are anxious looks coming and going between Minato and Mito that Hinata catches but knows not how to feel about. 

    Naruto remains impassive and he is the one to offer they go and find a private room in which to talk. 

    Hinata feels her chest tighten slightly, and although in any other time Naruto’s tranquil attitude would help her calm herself, this time, she grows nervous. 

    Jiraiya starts to tell of his travels -as he did before with Naruto and Hinata-, and it is with a mixture of interest and obvious haste that Minato asks questions. He wants to know, but he also doesn’t care about anything at all but whatever information can help Naruto. And yet he fears to hear no new information at all, or anything worthwhile. 

    Lady Mito remains quiet, staring at Jiraiya with her eyes shining in anticipation. Jiraiya is stuck between a rock and a hard place. He tries to gauge the room’s ambience, tries to control the emotions that reach him and he ends up anchoring himself in Naruto.

    Naruto and his tight smile. 

    Naruto and his resigned attitude. Out of anyone in this room, he knows what will follow. It’s what always follows whenever Jiraiya comes back, pleas and requests he never answers.

    He can never answer them.

    And now, although Jiraiya should feel accomplished and happy, although his travels have at long last brought forth an answer, he dreads talking about it.

    He knows what comes next. And Naruto stares at him, without blinking. Waiting to remain quiet and bear the sure goading that will follow.

    “What?” Minato catches on, and his eyes travel from his son to his master. “What’s going on?” 

    “So,” Jiraiya starts, “good news first, I learned of a technique that allows one to… uh, gather energy from the environment and replenish the user’s.”

    He looks around, with a face that asks for some smiles or positive feedback. Hinata gives him a faint smile and Jiraiya smiles back. She doesn’t know what this is about.

    “And?” Minato urges, and whatever ambience Jiraiya had been able to bring into the room disappears in a second. 

    “You know, that means that the Beast will take less of a toll on Naruto’s body.”

    “Good, then why aren’t you as excited?”

    “It’s… you gather energy from the environment but it asks for the user to become one with nature, so it entails extreme meditation and barely moving a muscle-”

    “I could do that,” chimes in Naruto. 

    Jiraiya nods to him, “Good, good, it will help. But, uh, I’m not as excited because from what I could tell from the quick check I did on Naruto, well…”

    “It took a toll, right?” Minato hates the idea, but Naruto just came out of a forced tearing of the seal. For him to come out of it unscathed is just, idealistic. “The forced tearing of the seal took a toll on Naruto’s body that you can’t fix, right?”

    “Good news is, it can be fixed, in fact, I think it will be fixed if he adds this new technique. Bad news is just-”

    “We’re back on square one,” Naruto finishes. 

    Lady Mito makes fist of her hands. Naruto’s life could have been extended… if none of this would have happened. But it did. 

At least… at least they’re on square one…

    At least they are back where they were before. 

Lady Mito feels her emotions going unchecked and raises her head to compose herself. But then sees Jiraiya’s eyes locked on Naruto’s and her heart squeezes. “What is it?”

Naruto’s eyes flash to her, almost ashamed, and she fears, anguishes over what’s to come. 

“Well,” Jiraiya starts again. Minato keeps his eyes glued to the floor. “Do you remember what we talked about, long ago?” 

Lady Mito tilts her head. They have talked about so many a thing regarding Naruto’s seal. Each time with a little more urgency. “Would you mind refreshing my memory?” 

Jiraiya lets out a heavy sigh and then blurts out everything all at once, “Back then we surmised that the Beast’s chakra seeping out of Naruto for so long meant we could in turn add something to the seal that could, you know, help with that, and if Naruto’s body didn’t have to worry about that, then, in turn, it may send resources to keep himself alive instead of sealing the Beast.”

Lady Mito doesn’t ask. Fears the answer.

“Do you remember?”

“Yes.”

“It’s done.”

Naruto doesn’t move a muscle and the euphoria of having something so tangible in front of her is enough to send Lady Mito in a spiral of anger towards the stubbornness of her grandson. 

“Does that,” she tempers her exhilaration, “does that mean that Naruto would have a normal… normal lifespan?”

“If he undergoes the procedure then he will have a longer life compared to what we expected before, yes.”

All eyes fall on Naruto. His eyes fixed on his godfather. 

“If I undergo the procedure, will I be able to use the Beast’s chakra as usual?”

“No.”

Naruto evades everyone’s eyes, stares to the floor for a second and then answers, “then it’s not an option.”

Jiraiya is the only one who seems to accept this answer. As Minato and Lady Mito open their mouths trying to find anything to say, but keeping quiet in hopes that the other would talk first.

HInata looks at everyone in turns, her last glance at Naruto's profile, whose jaw is tight. And then she stares at the floor. Quiet. 

“Why not?” says Minato, and Lady Mito seems to want to drill a hole in Naruto’s mind in search of an answer.

“We have just been attacked by a clan that was thought to be dead, we are now under unprecedented times with a truce between Beast Tamers and- hell, even if we were under normal circumstances it doesn’t make sense for us to give away our best card against enemies.”

“We can fight without your Beast. We can put up a fight.”

“Putting up a fight doesn’t sound that promising, dad, sorry.”

“We can fight without your Beast, Naruto.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“We have better guards and patrols and people on our side, and Shikamaru-”

“I remember an attack happening and reaching the inner compound a year and a half ago.”

“Even without the Beast you could have handled it.”

“But what if I couldn’t?”

“If you’re going to go down that way, then what, are you going to keep that damned Beast to protect us from even the weakest of enemies? You’d rather obliterate whoever comes than to try to keep yourself-”

“Listen,” Naruto presses his hand forward, stares his father down, “I am in charge of protecting this clan, and I will do that. If that means keeping this damned Beast inside of me then I will.”

“Naruto-”

“Dad. Even you can’t be sure of what’s to come now. Who would have thought an Uchiha would appear? How long till a clan breaks the truce between Beast Tamers? How long till a bunch of clans come together and try an attack?”

Hinata feels her chest being pressed down, but does her best not to lose her composure. She wishes Naruto’s answers weren’t so obvious, weren’t so factual, she wishes he were more selfish or weaker. But he remains unfazed, unflinching, and so Hinata bites down whatever tries to come out of her. 

“Maybe further down the road, dad… maybe, when we can be more sure of what’s to come.”

Lies, though. Because Naruto knows enemies won’t stop appearing, and not even Shikamaru is able to come down with predictions for the future that are without a surprise. But Naruto knows the people in this room worry for him, so his tough persona crumbles down a little. Just a little, just a second. 

“Further down the road won’t give you as much time, son…”

“I know… I know.”

Jiraiya believes some ripples will turn up regarding this matter, but the thick of it is now dealt with. He believes that if Minato can’t change Naruto’s opinion, then it’s not even worth it for him to try. He believes everyone in the room thinks that Minato is their last resort, maybe Naruto’s wife, but seeing her biting her lip and looking like talking is the harshest of tasks is enough to realize she won’t add on the issue.

But then Lady Mito speaks.

“If we could talk with our people and improve our security?”

“Grandma Mito…”

“If we could get all of this approved by Shikamaru? I know how much you trust him, we would get his approval first, and then-”

“Grandma Mito.” 

The room is silent, and then Naruto closes his eyes in pain, “Please, just, not now.”

Lady Mito is shaken, “We have the chance to recover so much time, Naruto.”

“I know.”

“You could live till- till you’re 50, 52 maybe. Naruto, this is such a gift.”

“We can’t now. If we are under attack and I can’t use my powers as usual it could mean-”

“We would protect the clan!”

“So what? You know how much the Nine-Tails chakra means in a fight, jeez, you know why whole ass clans try to get their hands on the Beasts, it’s because we win wars.”

“We are not under war.”

“We are not under war now, yes. Am I really the only one worried about the Uchiha’s going around? The same ones that were able to knock me out by looking at my eyes?”

“Now everyone is preparing countermeasures, you are ready to fight them again-”

“Am I, though? What if I’m not?” 

Lady Mito snarls, “Then we would step up.”

“And then a bunch of my people die. No, thanks.”

“Because now only you would die, right?”

Lady Mito feels white hot rage filling her. Because all of this could have been dealt with if she had been here when her daughter was attacked. And then she could have spared her grandson from this. All of this. But she wasn’t here. She is never here. And she hates it, and she hates it, and she hates it. She is desperate. She is guilty. She wants to cling to Naruto’s robes and beg and plead and cry and whine and never let go until he decides he is more important than them. 

She wants him to want to stay here. 

She lays eyes on Hinata, and Naruto puts his arm in front of her, his other hand pointing at her, “Don’t you dare.”

She is hurt. She is hurt and she is trying to come up with any kind of excuse that can shake her grandson’s resolve even a little. Enough to make his dumb stubborness crumble. She means to bring Hinata into the discussion, but Naruto shows his fangs too, and now Lady Mito wants to bawl. 

See? See how much you care? So her brain focuses on this tiny little bit of hope, and doesn’t think too much about it. It’s a fear of hers, too. It’s something she would never say out loud, because it’s a low blow. Something she regrets the moment it comes out of her mouth.

“Don’t you want to see your child grow?”

She freezes the second after, and she can feel Minato’s eyes on her. 

Naruto’s blue eyes open wide, impossibly so. He’s hurt and ashamed and his resolve does crumble. She can see that. He stares a second and she thinks he is going to cry. 

But he whips his head the other way, and leaves the room in haste. 

Nobody moves a muscle and Lady Mito whispers after a few seconds, “I’m sorry.”

But nobody blames her. They can’t.

It’s Hinata that stands then, with her hand on her belly.

“Hinata…,” starts Lady Mito, but Hinata looks at her with empathy in her eyes.

“It’s o-okay.” 

She follows after Naruto and finds him near a flower patch, under a tree. He stands there, but doesn’t let his weight rest on the trunk.

He feels her before she can say anything.

“Just give me a minute, love.”

But she can’t. Not now. So she keeps on walking and stops just behind him. Her hand to his back. 

“Please.”

“N-Naruto.”

He doesn’t move. 

“Naruto.”

He turns to her, and his eyes shine. His hair looks blonder than ever under the sunlight and he’s close to tears. He opens his mouth, trying to justify his actions, lest Hinata think he doesn’t actually care about her, about their child.

But he doesn’t get to say anything, because Hinata brings her hand to his face, to his whisker marks. She drags her fingers along, “I-It’s okay,” she whispers.

And Naruto breaks. 

His tears fall and his lip trembles, and it’s not until Hinata brings him into her that he buries his face on her shoulder and shudders as he gasps for air.

“It’s okay.” 

#naruto #naruhina #Naruto Uzumaki #Hinata Hyuga #uzumaki naruto #hyuga hinata #fanfiction #fanfic #beast tamers #ch.9 #part 4 #Mito just says things sometimes out of desperation you know #ಥ_ಥ #she just cares too much #and feels super guilty about everything all the time #have a great one!! #see you next week #(❁´◡`❁)

[thecagedsong]

Forgotten Light: Chapter 1: The Key of Forgetting

“Seth, I need to be the one to do it,” Kendra said. “Let’s be honest, your abilities are way more useful in managing Wyrmroost. I have the feeling that…that everyone else wants you to be the one to lose your memories. We’re being played by someone, even now.”

           “Kens, I’m not a dragon tamer, without you, I can’t do anything here,” Seth said, gripping the key in his pocket. “When the statues wake up, we’re probably going to need some of that good old diplomacy you can do to explain what happened here. I just irritate everyone. We need to think bigger.”

           “I am thinking bigger,” Kendra said, pulling him short before they were in unlocking distance of the door, “The fairy queen has my back. The fairies won’t lead me astray, not really, but without your memories, you won’t know how to keep your head around demons and the undead. One of them already offered to teach you, back in the Path of Dreams, and you would have said yes without your memories. You just felt what it was like to have your memories wiped, you’ll be able to help me figure things out better than I could help you.”

           Seth’s eyes went to the pouch at her waist, “You’d forget Bracken, I’m not going to let you throw away the best boyfriend you’ll probably ever have. You have terrible taste.”

           “Shut up,” she said, flushing. 

She held out the bag of gales, Bracken’s first horn, and the caretaker’s medallion from around her neck. Kendra shoved the items at him, letting them drop, and Seth fumbled to catch them. While he did that, she took the key from his pocket. “Bracken isn’t really my boyfriend, and he’s immortal. If anyone can figure out how to make me like him again, he has the time. And it’s not like it took me forever to fall for him in the first place.”

           “You can’t do that, that’s my trick!” Seth complained. He looked like he was contemplating the success of doing the exact same thing to her.

           “Ronodin wants Bracken’s horn, don’t let him have it. I won’t be a good keeper without my memories.” She searched her brain for other important information. “A demon put a mark on me, if the demons Talizar, Batoosa, or Vez Radim approach you and offer help, I have it on another demon’s word that they hate the dragons enough to make sure you succeed. Don’t do it, unless there are literally no other options. You don’t need more demon friends.”

           Seth quickly tucked the items into his emergency kit, “We don’t have time to wrestle over this, give me the key, Celebrant is on his way.”

           “I love you Seth,” she said, “We’re trying to save the world. It’s my turn to pay the price. I’ve gotten out of this pretty well so far, people like to give me things.”

           “I’m supposed to pay the price,” he said, his eyes looking teary, “I’m your stupid younger brother.”

           “And I’m your protective older sister,” she trumped. His shoulders slumped in resignation, and she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. By the time she relearned when to do that, he’d be taller than her. “Find a way to fix me if you can, don’t let me abandon you or the preserve. I’ll still be me, and I’ll still want to help people. Sorry to leave you alone for the last bit. Tell everyone I love them, and don’t let Mom or Dad flip out too badly.”

           “At least if we did make a huge mistake somewhere,” Seth said, “You won’t remember it. Less guilt that way.”

           “I’m choosing to do this,” Kendra asserted, “The Wizenstone sounds pretty beefed, it might be able to bring my memories back. I could be gone for only a couple of minutes if we do this right. Oh, the rod. If you get it, stretch it out to something, say ‘begone’, and the thing you’re pointing at goes far away. There’s a scary demon guarding the stone, it probably needs to be used on that.”

           “I do everything wrong,” he protested weakly, one last shot, making a lame grab for the key. She held it out of his reach.

           “No, you don’t. I don’t say it nearly enough, but you’ve done amazing things, you make me proud, and when we’re up against the end of the world, I want you up front. I love you most,” she promised, her voice breaking, “even if I forget about it for a little while.”

           There was a clattering from the stairwell, and Seth turned to look while she went for the keyhole. It slid in on the second try, and she had just a moment to wonder if it would hurt before it clicked home.

              She slumped against the door in front of her, the room spinning. It passed and she got back on her feet, muscles sore for some reason.

           She looked down, but she wasn’t in exercise clothes, though she seemed to be sweaty and dirty. She didn’t recognize the clothes she was wearing. Or the body she was wearing, which seemed to be teenage girl. What had she been doing? She looked around, saw a concerned boy in what appeared to be an old and groady castle. Where was she?

           She tried to remember how she got here. Then she tried to remember anything at all. She was a teenager, but who was her family? Her parents? Everyone had parents. But not her.

           She didn’t even have a name.

           “Kendra? Are you okay?” the boy asked. He seemed worried about her, had one arm outstretched, but nothing seemed familiar. Maybe he saw how bad she looked, saw her collapse against the door, and decided to help her out.

           Or maybe she did know him, clearly her memory was having problems right now. Was her name Kendra? He seemed a little young to walk in the same social circles as her.

           Who was she? And who was the man coming up behind him?

  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

A/N: thanks to everyone who liked this idea and wanted me to post. It’s always nerve racking posting a new story, but I’m pretty proud of this one. I started this fic at the beginning of the pandemic, and I hope to finish this one before the fifth book comes out. Have fun reading! EDIT: Shortened it and added the title!

#Fablehaven #dragon watch #Forgotten Light #Kendra Sorenson #Seth Sorenson #If anyone who follows me doesn't want to see these posts #block Forgotten Light #Yes #you are supposed to dislike Ronodin manipulating Kendra

[votederpycausemufins]

Surprisingly Familiar Ch 1

The first chapter of the sequel to Summoning Family. I'm going to be working on my scattered au fic more, but you might still see some chapters of this scattered around

@petrichormeraki made the hermit!Tommy au, and @helleborusangel did amazing rambles for the chapters of Summoning Family.

Now, Let's see how things have gone since the ending of Summoning Family.

It had been eleven days since Grum’s birthday and now it was Jrum’s. He was excited by the party, playing games and trying to scam people of their diamonds. Cake was nice, his mask getting a special cake of his own with diamonds since Grum had gotten the same. And then it came to presents.

Jrum was especially happy at any toys he got and glad if he was just getting diamonds. Kokatori had also managed to get another ribbon around its neck and try to be a present again. Jrum wasn’t the most pleased about that since he was still coping with everything that happened with the egg, but he still took the present before handing them off to Grum.

Just as the presents were just about all gone, two more were placed on the table, each one with a different label. Jrum went to grab the last present when he saw the new ones being placed, so he looked up at who was putting them down, surprised to see an unfamiliar face. “Um, who are you?”

The question made everyone look over, most people looking confused, but three people had different reactions. Phil looked surprised, recognizing the man. Grian was also surprised, but also awestruck. Lastly, in Grum’s arms, Kokatori hissed.

“What the heck are you doing here? Who even let you in?” Phil asked, walking over to the man.

“I let myself in. I mean, I sort of already had permission to be here, just never used it. Building big was never really my thing.”

“Who are you then?” It was Scar who spoke up. The person looked at a few of the hermits who seemed to also look as confused as Scar sounded.

“I think the beard is messing with them.” Phil said, elbowing the man, who then ran a hand through his beard.

“Right, spend a month on an abandoned island and then get captured by pirates and you can’t really do much for that. Anyone got a raz...or…” he trailed off as Jrum pulled out some special shears. He was stunned by the bot having such a thing, but took them with a thank you and stepped out of the room.

After a few minutes, he stepped back in, and immediately some of the hermits were no longer confused. “Oh my god, it’s been so long!” Bdubs was the first to say, going over to the man. “What have you been up to!”

“Eh, mainly family. You’ve been working with someone named Scar?” Bdubs nodded and gestured to the mayor. “Got it. Nice to meet you.” He moved over to Doc. “And how about you? How’s the family life?”

“Eh, some days are always better than others, I haven’t been around here as often because of it. What about you?”

“Well, the kids are all grown up at this point, I’ve got more time on my hands so I’ve gone back to filming.”

Doc nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’ve got to tell you more about what we did last season.”

“I’m sure you do.” The man chuckled, moving over to Keralis. “Hey, can’t wait to see your city. The pictures seemed crazy enough. I can’t believe you built all that.”

“Why spank you, but I have had help with designs.”

“Yeah. And you said you own it with someone named Cleo now?”

“Yes, in fact, she’s got a relative that is in Bub’s troop last I checked.”

Cleo spoke up at this point. “Yep! Got an order in for popcorn just the other day.”

“Nice to hear. By the way, Etho’s behind me, isn’t he?” The hermits unfamiliar with the man were surprised by that comment, as Etho was indeed behind him. Pretty much no one could tell when Etho was sneaking around, so this new person doing it was very shocking. “I’ll be asking everyone about your shops so I can stay awake from them.”

“Oh come on, some of them would be fun for a survivor like you. In fact we could get Tango to open up decked out for a session for you.”

“Right, sure Etho. Now is Beef around?”

“No actually. He had something really important come up.” Etho answered, another hermit nodding to agree with the statement.

“Ah, that’s too bad. Well, I guess the only person left to greet is ol’ rap battle over here.”

Wels suddenly looked embarrassed. “Oh that’s why you look familiar. You’re the OBP leader.”

“Yeah.” The man nodded. “You know green wasn’t really your c-”

“Please don’t bring that up again.”

The man laughed. “Alright, I won’t.” He then looked at the rest of the hermits. “Well, I think I know a few of you from the letters I’ve gotten from these guys.” And he gestured to the hermits he had been talking to. “Like I know Scar and Cleo now, then TFC and Xisuma I’m familiar with, also Zedaph.”

“Yeah, so who are you exactly?” Mumbo spoke up. “While I’m glad you’ve come to celebrate Jrum’s birthday, I’m not familiar with you.”

“Right, forgot to give my name I guess.” The man started to say. “I’m-”

Grian cut him off. “You’re the Soarvivor Paul! I remember watching your shows when I was in highschool! I had some friends at my school in England who went to an event of yours!”

“Wait, this is Paul?” Scar spoke up. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about him from Doc and Bdubs.”

Paul smiled at that. “Yep, that would be me.”

Grian took over the conversation again. “So wait, you said you were recording again, are you making MvM again?”

Instead of answering happily like Paul had to everyone else, he just gave Grian a bit of a nod before giving him the cold shoulder.

“Wait, are you that uncle Phil’s always talking about?” Tommy asked. He had stayed out of the conversation when he had no clue what was going on, but now that he recognized the name, he had some things to say. “The one he always complains always uses letters instead of a phone call or texting.”

Paul nodded. “Yeah, that would be me. Letters are the most reliable when you’ve got a job like mine.”

“Then stick to a comm then Paul.” Doc said, resting his arm on Paul's shoulder. “I’ve offered to make you a special one who knows how many times. I’m sure your kids wouldn’t mind it either.”

“Why do I feel like I’m still missing something?” Tommy spoke up again, Doc explaining for him.

“A number of us hung out with Paul in the past. Most of us he knows from the old Minecrack worlds, but he met Keralis on some other worlds.”

“Yeah, and met Wels when we were dealing with an apocalypse world. Beef was there too.” Paul sighed. “So Phil, what’s your family been getting up to other than the obvious?”

“Well, Tommy’s actually living in hermitcraft now.” Phil answered. “Wilbur’s getting through some things, and Techno’s trying to keep up his hardened warrior mask, but Grian’s kid is making that hard.”

“Well, this group seems to have that effect on people.” Paul nodded. “And how’ve they been doing with Xelqua?” Paul jabbed a finger on Grian’s direction.

“Right, shit, forgot to say that part. Grian is Xelqua.” Phil quickly explained, Paul’s mouth turning to a small ‘o’.

“Ah, I guess that explains that war and the hippies I heard about in letters. At least It’s a little tamer in a world like this.” Most of the people in the room were confused, and at first Grian was one of them, but then he made a connection and his legs were suddenly struggling to keep him up. “He has told you about Tokyo, right?”

Before anyone could answer, Kokatori was hissing in Grum’s arms again, drawing Paul’s attention. He pulled out a stone sword and immediately the hermits that knew Paul were holding him back. “No! Hey! Paul, that is a kid’s pet!” Bdubs said. “I know you don’t like them but that’s like the one chicken you’re not allowed to kill!”

“Just get him a pet other than a chicken! You can’t trust a chicken! They’re spies, killers and thieves.”

“Killer chickens?” Wels, who wasn’t holding Paul back, asked.

“Oh no, he’s telling the truth about that.” Doc answered. “I saw it for myself.”

“How do you get killed by a fucking chicken?” Tommy asked.

“You forget to kill it first.” Paul answered, finally putting his sword away. “Well, you said that kid’s one of Xel’s.”

“One of Grian’s.” Phil corrected. “And yes. That’s Grumbot, or Grum, the older of the two. His birthday was a week and a half ago.”

“Well, figures they’d just try causing more problems.”

Phil rolled his eyes and then grabbed Paul’s arm. “Alright, you and I. Talk. Now.”

When Phil and Paul had left the room, Grian finally allowed himself to go to the floor. The hermits that knew Paul were immediately apologizing for him, not sure why he was acting that way. But Grian knew. And Mumbo helped Grian up, pretty sure he knew too. “I’m going to help Grian lie down. Grum, maybe I should take Kokatori with me so they don’t cause more problems.”

Grum nodded and handed the chicken over, it being very upset about being moved and pecking at Mumbo’s arms. But he was too worried about Grian to let that stop him. So soon they had left the room too.

For a while, everything was silent. But then Jrum spoke up. “Well, for my birthday, I want to eavesdrop! And no one can stop me!” And he ran off to listen into Phil and Paul’s conversation, leaving the rest of the party members confused on what to do.

#hc x dsmp #hermit!tommy au #jrumbot #grian #grumbot #mumbo jumbo #philza minecraft #bdubs #3rd life smp #tommyinnit #docm77 #Keralis #Zombiecleo #ethoslab #welsknight #paul soares jr

[wrestling0neshots]

Old Times - Chris Jericho

Miz TV never cracked up to be all that much, at least it never compared to the Highlight Reel. And it never will, not for you.

Originally posted on Archive Of Our Own ------------------------ You sigh, resting your head in your hands. You've never liked having to do these segments, not with The Miz anyway.

Once upon a time you enjoyed doing these things, you enjoyed coming out to the ring and being interviewed by a fellow wrestler. Perhaps you were biased with The Highlight Reel, perhaps now moreso then ever.

There was just something that made The Highlight Reel what it was, something that made it fun. Again, maybe you're biased, but it always seemed so much more fun.

Instead you're out here talking to Miz.. or rather you wish you were. He's just been talking to himself for almost 3 minutes. Then again, maybe it would be worse if you were involved in the conversation.

"So, Y/n," it looks like you're about to find out, "how does it feel to be on Miz TV?" Oh great. More talking about Miz. "It's.. okay I guess. I've had better experiences with this type of show." You shrug. Miz looks offended, so he should be.

"There's nothing wrong with my show." He states, nostrils flaring in anger. "I mean.. there's the décor, the fact it's a bad knockoff of the highlight reel, you."

If looks could kill the whole arena would have witnessed a murder. Miz is not happy, something that you find quite amusing. You don't want to be here, why not have a little fun?

"How dare you compare my show to the highlight reel, there was nothing tasteful about how it was presented." Miz snaps. You raise your eyebrow, smirking. "The host was certainly tasteful."

Miz's face turns to one of disgust, the direct mention of Chris angering him more. Chris and Miz have never gotten along, Chris has told Miz on several occasion what he thinks of him and his in ring show and, as expected, Miz did not take any of those things well.

If it wasn't bad enough that you were down here on Miz TV to begin with it was made bad, or so much worse, by you bringing up your boyfriend. Not that it's an issue for you of course.

With a huff Miz decides to continue the segment, "so, Y/n, tell me. Last week you were 'robbed' of a match for a title shot. I-"

"Woah, listen. It's not being 'robbed' if your opponent is unfit to face you and a replacement cannot be found. Although I'm flattered."

Miz already looked angry, although now he seems to be angrier. He clearly meant his words to come off mean and to disappoint you. Oh well.

Miz opens his mouth to continue, but you weren't done and so you continue first. "I'll get my shot, I've made it clear that I only want to face the best. If that means I have to wait two weeks for her to recover then I'll wait two weeks. If it's four it's four."

"Don't interrupt me." He growls. "I didn't. You hadn't started." You turn your face away from him, grinning into a camera before turning back with your face straight.

"I-" he stops, resting his microphone free hand on his face. His frustration is clear, and very amusing. You hope Chris is watching.

"You know, Y/n, you and that good for nothing boyfriend of yours really know how to get on my nerves." Miz mumbles, taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly. You say nothing, just watching with a straight face. Although you imagine everyone can still clearly see the amusement you hold. You're pretty sure the whole world can sense it.

"Y/n." Miz begins. Again. "Next time you face-" This time Miz isn't interrupted by you. It's the music that cuts him off. The theme belonging to your partner.

Chris cockily makes his way down to the ring, the biggest shit eating grin plastered on his face. You try not to react, but you can't help the small grin that makes it's way onto your face. Your attention is drawn away from Chris as you hear a yell from Miz, turning to see him kick over the small table between the two of you. It just makes you want to grin more.

"You know what?" Miz shouts as Chris' theme song stops. He turns and looks you dead in the eyes, pointing at your chest. "I'm done. I'm done with you, I'm done with this interview. I can't do this anymore. You're never coming on Miz TV again." He snaps. "Okay." You shrug.

Miz leaves the ring, glaring at you. "Don't forget your set!" Chris shouts, throwing the knocked over table out of the ring and in the direction of the ramp. Miz stomps the rest of the way up the ramp and out of sight, leaving you and Chris alone in the ring.

The lion-tamer turns to look at you. "This takes me back." He states, referencing the many times you appeared on his in ring show. "That it does, what are you doing down here anyway?" You ask him. The crowd cheers, clearly wanting to know as well.

"I thought I'd come and reminisce old times, remember the things that happened." You know immediately what he's talking about.

The highlight reel held a special place for the two of you, mainly because it's what brought you together. The highlight reel is the reason for your relationship. The first time Chris had kissed you was on the highlight reel.

"I actually, I thought we could reminisce on them together." He says, gesturing toward the titantron. A video begins to play, showing the journey you and Chris had on the highlight reel.

You watch as small snippets of the show play, your chemistry with Chris growing with every clip. You became a permanent part of the show once your relationship began, creative deciding the two of you worked far too well together to be apart.

It's nice, yet odd, to watch back all these moments. It's been years since you and Chris did the highlight reel. Your relationship has only grown, the two of you have only become closer.

The video ends, the crowd cheering loudly. You smile, turning to face Chris. Except he's not where you thought he would be. Instead he's down on one knee, holding a small blue box open.

The ring inside sparkles more than anything you've ever seen, your smile growing. "Y/n the highlight reel ended many years ago. I don't want my time with you to ever end. Marry me?" The words don't come out of your mouth for a second, before you finally manage to get out the "yes" nodding as you do.

He takes the ring from the box, sliding it on your finger before standing. The crowd's cheers are almost deafening as you and Chris face one another.

His hands hold yours, you barely hear him say "I love you" without his microphone. "I love you too Chris." You say just before his lips meet yours, reminiscent of that first kiss on the highlight reel. Who knew that one show you enjoyed so much would come to this.

#chris jericho #the miz #miz tv #wwe #wwe oneshots #established relationship #engagement #old times #highlight reel

[cosmiclatte28]

Catboy (Reader, catboy! Yuta and Taeyong)

warning : catboy! Taeyong and Yuta , fluff :D

"Hey, want to grab lunch?" Baekhyun's joyful invitation got you tearing away your eyes from the screen. You smile and hit the save button, quickly nodding and picking up your wallet, phone, and ID.

"Slow down, I will wait." Baekhyun leans over the wall. There's no one else in the room, everyone has gone out once the bell rings, but something is wrong with you being the last person sitting down.

"Okay, I am ready where do we go for lunch?" You grab your coat and Baekhyun follows your steps to take the elevator.

"There's a new Subway restaurant by the end of the junction and they serve sandwiches. Quite fast and filling for lunch right?" Baekhyun presses the elevator button down and off you go to the basement.

"What makes you stay back huh, did you not hear the bell?" Baekhyun let out the one question he found really bothering his mind.

You chuckled, "Ah! that, I have to finish my work today. I don't want to take extra hours, because you know," you paused and try to find the right words.

"What? Just tell me, we've been friends since forever. I basically know everything about you." Baekhyun opened the door for you to step in.

You thanked him and both of you queue behind the line.

"You know Taeyong and Yuta are somewhat in a cold war. I don't know what's wrong."

"Oh the boys? Maybe they fight when you're not home. Have you tried talking to them one by one?" Baekhyun suggested a solution.

"Yeah I haven't gotten the chance. It's from this morning. I hope they're okay once I am back. What about Chanyeol? How is he?" You divert the attention elsewhere.

Baekhyun pats your shoulder, telling you to order since the cashier is waiting already.

You quickly made your order and Baekhyun's then with the tray you both take a sit on the corner of the room.

The two of you start eating, while having the light conversation going on.

"Chanyeol? He's a good boy. He even knows how to cook! I come home to a table full of foods." Baekhyun pops up a thumbs up.

Your eyes widen, "Oh yeah? Taeyong is also good in cooking. Not to mention Yuta always help with washing the mess."

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, "That' unfair. Yeol doesn't really like cleaning, so I have to clean up the dishes, but I got a good dinner and he made a nice friend, so yeah no big deal."

"You should get a partner." you teased your friend here. Baekhyun taunted at you, "Said the girl who also lives alone without a partner but two catboys."

"Well you also live with a puppy-hybrid. Chanyeol is a nice breed though, he sounds like he can do anything. I wonder why he was in the shelter."

Yes, you and Baekhyun adopted some hybrid from the shelter. The visit was some kind of joke and you were not even planning to own hybrid. 

Not until the two of you walked passed by a shelter and saw how their eyes glimmer with hopes when you peeked from the window. Baekhyun decided to check it out and once you stepped in, your heart ached from seeing two cat-boys curled on the corner, sharing warmth with each other. When you walked closer to the, they squirmed and woke up. Only to shot you a pitiful look, and when the owner explained where he found those two cats, you decided you need to give them new home.

So, Baekhhyun went home with a new tall, sweet smile, energetic puppy hybrid and you brought home two cat-boys. One was a bit tamer than the other one, but both were sweet.

You named them Taeyong and Yuta, the first one was the softie, while the later was the guardian.

Lunch break was over and you walked back to the office to continue your shift. Your salary is enough to have you raise two cat boys, they don't demand much. They can entertain themselves when you're away with the things you have in the house.

Nine to five work was over and you silently bid good bye to the other workers who have to stay behind; Baek is one of them.

You walked calmly home, pondering if you need to buy dinner or not and you believed Taeyong would have prepared something already.

Your beeping alerted the two cats in the house. Yuta's ears twitched when your footstep echoing in the living room.

When Taeyong took a break to shower and pamper himself, you and Yuta are in the kitchen, washing the dishes and storing the left over foods.

"Hey Yuta," you give him your greeting, patting his head and ruffling his hair. He leans into your hand, wanting more. You chuckle and stay for a while, just to move to the other cat boy busy preparing foods.

"Taeyongie," you hug him, and he yelped from the surprise.

"I'm here now. Let's have dinner!" You happily wash your hands and take a seat on the table full of foods. Yuta and Taeyong are already seated on their chair and both of them looked fine. You guessed their fight from the morning was over. Maybe they just accidentally stepped on each other's tail and thus having a small war when you left home earlier.

Other than that, things were fine and you happily dive into dinner with two of your new best friends.

“How’s work?” Yuta asks the regular question he always propose to you.

You nod your head, “It was fine, how are you and Taeyong? I kind of see you two fighting in the morning, mind to share why?”

Yuta smiles when he remembers and realizes how stupid they were.

“I accidentally stepped on Taeyong’s tail and he was a bit cranky this morning. He kind of doesn’t want you to go work. I mean yeah the last week end you’re pampering us with lots of love and attention and when Taeyong remembers today is Monday, he was kind of sad. Then I did not see his tail and I stepped on it. He was mad and he scratched me.” Yuta tuck his shirt up and you can see a sliver of the nice scar on his abdomen.

“Oh no, I will take care of the wound after this.” You look into the red mark with sadness.

“Don’t scold Taeyong, I get it he’s a bit emotional this morning. That’s why I asked sorry, but he did not say a word.”

“It’s so nice of you, but I need to talk and tell Yongie it is not good to ignore an apology.” You bring your hand to touch Yuta’s chin and he purrs when you lightly scratch it.

“Thank you for being understanding Yuta, you really understand Taeyong.” You open your hands and he takes the code to hug you. He is taller than you, but he can always manage to fit into your smaller body whenever you engulf him in a hug.

“Have you resolved it with him?” you whisper

Yuta nods, “Yes, I mean in the afternoon he got bored keeping quiet and playing by himself. So, he slowly approached me and I knew he was not so good in saying his feelings out loud, so I use the chance to say sorry again.”

Your eyes water from the sweet action Yuta made. “He accepted my apology and asked me sorry too for acting that bad.”

The toilet door twisted open and you quickly separate yourself from Yuta. Taeyong is a jealous type of cat, and he smiles when he just finish his good shower.

“Enjoyed your shower Tae?” You walk to him and his fresh soap scent brings a grin to your face.

“Yeah, I need that shower after a long day.” He chuckles and sits on the sofa.

Yuta goes into the shower now, so you have a time alone with him.

“How is your tail?” You open the conversation while looking into his tail. It looks fine and he forces a sad smile.

“I messed up this morning and scratched Yuta.” He admits.

You sigh in relief; he did the confession and this will be easier for you.

“It’s okay, I know you both have talked and solved it. I just want to remind you what you did was not so good. Don’t do that again okay? You are lucky Yuta loves you so much, he did not want me to scold you.”

His soft eyes go teary, you quickly bring Taeyong into a hug and he buries himself into your embrace. “I am sorry too…”

You smile and kiss his forehead, he emits the softest purr and you run your hand lovingly on his back.

“I’ll shower and can you please check Yuta’s scar? Give him the ointment and later we will jump to bed and watch film.”

Taeyong nods like the good boy he always is, “I’ll take care of Yuta, you go shower. Oh and can we cuddle? Please?” his cat eyes show up. “Pretty please with a cherry on top.” He blinks and you lost your control.

“Yes Taeyong! Of course!” You dishevel his hair and go to the shower when Yuta left.

“Yuta, Taeyong will check your scar. I’ll see later if there’s anything else we must do.” You disappear behind the door and Yuta calmly walks to Taeyong.

He opens his shirt and Taeyong sadly looks at the big scar he made this morning.

Taeyong traces his finger over the scar to apply a salph and Yuta winces at the pain.

“Sorry Yuta, I won’t repeat this.” Taeyong rambles as he medicates his brother’s nasty scar.

Yuta only smile and kiss Taeyong’s head, “I get it, it’s okay Taeyong. Stop blaming yourself, this wound is nothing okay. Now stop over thinking and take a good sleep, you need it.”

Taeyong throws Yuta back his tee shirt and the boy quickly wears it back. The two of them are already cuddling under your blanket when you return from the fresh steam.

“What should we watch today?” You jump into the bed and the two cat boys quickly find their way to lean into you.

You giggle and hug the two of them, “Boys, I love you equally okay. Don’t fight over silly things like that again.”

The two cats look into you with adoration and love in their eyes, they’re lucky you decided to bring them home that day, and they’re lucky you still love them with all your heart until today.

END! 

Well, this isn’t what I had in mind when I say i want to make a catboy domestic one shot... but here is the result, might make another one someday. 

#yuta x reader #taeyong x reader #yuta x taeyong #nct hybrid au #yuta x you #taeyong x yuta #taeyong x you #nct au #nct hybrid

[spookysweet-heart]

Freak Show

Request: No

Parings: Circus!Egos x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Youtube Egos (Mark, Jack, Nate)

Warning: Dream manipulation, Nightmares.

A/N: Here’s Part Two of The Circus of Souls series. Part one can be found here! This is directly after the first one so please read it if you haven’t yet! The lovely aesthetic I’ll be using is by the very talented @huffle-princess​! The songs that I use in this part are FreakShow by The Nearly Deads and Enjoy The Show by NateWantsToBattle. Edited by @semiproeagle23​!

     Immediately after getting home, you tossed the book and tickets on your desk. Sitting on your bed, you felt your heart pounding in your chest. “What the fuck was that…?” 

Deciding not to go through with your original plan, you ended up running home. Glancing at the tickets, you felt off. There was a reason you knew you couldn’t leave just yet. 

Shaking your head, you sighed in frustration. Standing up and running a hand through your hair, you started to head out to the bathroom down the hall to get ready for bed.

Getting back into your room, you threw yourself on your bed and rolled over to pull the covers up so you could get underneath them. After getting comfortable, you looked over at the book one more time. It still didn’t feel right. Turning around, you turned off your bedside lamp, letting sleep take over.

It didn’t take long before you were drifting off. The room fell into a silence that didn’t feel inviting at all, but you brushed it off, thinking it was just your imagination from your interaction with the Ringleader.

Your breathing started to even out when you finally fell asleep, not noticing when the book on your desk opened on its own as a breeze passed through, making the pages turn. The book stopped on the third page with the man who was on a stage surrounded by smoke. The golden light that shined earlier in the day appeared again as purple smoke emerged from the page.

The smoke made its way above you, as if making sure you were asleep. When it was positive that you were, it made its way inside, phasing through your body.

Walking through a dark abandoned building, the only light source that you could see was from the moon shining through the windows. Your bare feet on the cold white tile made a shiver run down your spine.

When you looked around the open space, you noticed shadows on the walls were moving while you walked. It took a second to realize that they were children’s shadows. 

Stopping in the middle of the huge room, you closed your eyes, telling yourself it was just a dream, that nothing could hurt you. “C’mon, it’s just a dream...you can change it. Please change, I don’t want to be here.” 

Feeling a breeze pass by, you opened your eyes, seeing you were still in the building, but the shadows were now surrounding you. Looking at them, you asked, “What do you want? What is this place?” 

You started to hear whispers and giggles of children all around. “Help me…”, “Please save us...”, “Don’t let him trick you…” Taking a step forward, the kids moved, letting you walk away from them. Each step you took became quicker than the last until you started to run away, but the voices and giggles still rang in your ears.

Turning a corner, you saw there was an open room. Peeking inside, you saw there was an almost empty table. Hesitantly stepping inside, you noticed that the voices stopped when your eyes landed on a small toy carousel sitting in the middle of the table. 

Just as you were about to touch it, the tiny lights turned on, making the horses move around as a circus jingle started to play. Standing there, you were too preoccupied to notice a taller shadow move behind you across the hall.

The small breeze that passed by was what caught your attention to turn away. Walking back out into the hallway, you heard faint music coming from the end of it. It sounded just like the one coming from the carousel.

Following the echoing music, you felt uneasy again as you were getting closer. Hearing a crowd of people cheer gave you a little bit of hope that maybe this dream was turning into something good after all. Unfortunately, right as you entered the room, all you saw was a stage at the far end. 

The music got louder as the invisible cheers did. Looking around, you saw purple smoke make its way to the stage. 

As the stage lights came on, the smoke disappeared, leaving a man in a black and purple outfit in its place center stage.

He smiled, hearing the crowd cheer as he raised his mic to his lips. “You wanna take a look inside my head, you wanna analyze the things I’ve said. Well here we go again, I know what you’re gonna find. I know I’ve sought revenge, that I’ve cheated, and I’ve lied.” 

Jumping down, he started to make his way to you, leaving a trail of purple smoke with each step he took. “I’ve been selfish, and unkind, and reckless and unwise. There’s nothing you can say to change me. I need to save myself. But you asked, so here we go.” 

Lifting up his hand, a spotlight shined on him as the rest of the room turned black. “Welcome to the FreakShow, all my friends are here.” Gesturing to the crowd, you looked around seeing the children from before. “Jealousy and love, envy, lust, corruption, fear. Welcome to the headache I wake up with every day.” 

The man grinned as he stood right in front of you. He gently grabbed your chin with his free hand, making you look up at him. “Be careful what you wish for, or you’ll end up just like me…” Purple smoke started to surround you both as he continued to sing. “You’ll end just like me...just like me…” 

Feeling your chest tighten when it got harder to breathe, you started to panic, trying to escape, but you couldn't move a muscle. The man leaned down as he whispered in your ear. “Be careful, (Y/n). You don’t want the fate we suffer everyday…” 

You wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he only placed a hand above your chest. You closed your eyes and the next thing you knew, you were shoved back with a sharp pain hitting your chest.

Feeling as if you were falling, you woke up startled, sitting up in bed. Frantically looking around, you took everything in, realizing you were back in your room. Looking at your desk, you saw the book was still closed, just how you left it. 

Laying back in bed, you turned your head towards your window, seeing it was morning. 

Breathing a bit heavily, you stretched out your arms when you reluctantly got up from your bed. 

Trying to calm yourself down, you placed a hand where his hand was before. Slowing down your breathing, you felt your chest become less heavy by the second.

Picking up your phone, you saw you had a few missed texts from your group chat.

“Do you guys wanna go to the Circus?”

“It’s the opening night, isn’t it?”

“Yeah! I asked my mom if she’d give me a few extra dollars for a ticket.”

“I’m up for it! But I don’t have much money for a ticket.“

“Same here…”

“Sneak in?”

Walking over to your desk, you picked up one of the tickets. “The Circus of Souls….I don’t like this...but there has to be a reason. I know that nightmare wasn’t by chance.” Looking at your phone when it vibrated, you saw it was a new message in the chat.

“Hey, (Y/n)! You’re awake! You wanna go to the Circus?”

You felt a bit nervous when you replied.

“Yeah! And don’t worry about the tickets, guys. I was able to get some for all of us. Free for the whole week.”

“Free?! How’d you get that?!”

“That’s a secret! Meet me by the entrance around 5. Okay?”

Tossing your phone on your bed, you started to get ready for later.

Adjusting the strap on your bookbag, tickets in hand, you looked over at the crowd when you heard someone yell out your name. 

Seeing Stretch wave, you smiled and waved to her, making your way to the group. “Hey!”

“Hey, are those the tickets?” Meer looked over at your hand, seeing four tickets.

“Oh! Yeah! These are it! They’re valid for the whole week!” You gave her a smile and handed each of them a ticket. “Before we go in, can I talk to you guys real quick?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Sam smiled, putting the ticket in her pocket.

“Before we go in there, you have to promise me that you guys won’t break away from the group?”

“Sure, but why?” Stretch raised an eyebrow, looking at you confused.

“Because...uh…” Looking between the three girls, your eyes landed on Meer. “Because Meer’s afraid of crowds remember! It’s better if we all stick together so she feels comfortable right?”

“That would actually help a lot, honestly…” Meer’s cheeks became a light pink, feeling sheepish as she looked around at the group.

“Hey, don’t feel bad, we’re all afraid of something, right?” Sam wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulders. “I mean, you can stay with me when these guys go on the rides that take off the ground. I’m not a fan of heights.”

“Okay...sure thing!” Meer smiled again and followed your lead as the group made its way to the ticket booth.

Showing the man at the booth your tickets, he smiled at you as he took it. “Don’t worry about bringing these back, you can just hand them over. The boss man said you and your friends would be coming tonight.”

“Thanks?” You shrugged your shoulders, acting like you had no idea what he was talking about. “Let’s go!” Smiling and leading the group further into the Circus, you were all immediately hit with the smells of fresh popcorn, cotton candy, and fried dough.

Stretch was the first one to suggest you play some games first before going on any rides. Throughout the night, you all challenged each other to the various games and silly dares you four could do. Time flew by, and you almost forgot the real reason you were here tonight.

“We haven’t gotten on any of the rides…” Stretch pouted, grabbing her bag of popcorn from the lady at the stand.

“I wanted to see the animal tamer! Did you see the tiger she’s working with, holy shit!” Meer almost dropped her bag of popcorn in excitement.

“There’s a Fortune Teller booth I kinda wanted to check out too..”  Sam slightly pouted as she turned to the group, handing you your bag of popcorn.

Taking the bag, you giggled a bit. “Okay, okay, I know you all wanted to do things, but we have all week, right? We still have time to do all of it.” 

Just as Stretch was about to speak up, a loud voice over the speakers ran through the area. “Attention! Attention! The Circus of Souls would like to invite you all to the main tent for a spectacular music performance!” 

The mention of a music performance made your blood run cold as you stood there. There was no way it could be the same man you saw in your dreams, could it?

“(Y/n)? Hey, (Y/n)!” Stretch waved a hand in front of your face, trying to snap you out of it.

You blinked and took a step back. “Whoa, what the fuck, dude?”

“You were spacing out there, dork. We asked you if you wanted to go see the performance?”

“Oh,” Looking at your group, you nodded. “Yeah, sure! It’ll be a fun end to the first night, wouldn’t it?”

Walking into the huge red tent made you feel on edge, to say the least. What made you stop in your tracks was seeing Phantom greeting guests. “Welcome! Oh, well I see you made it  my dear. Come in, come in! You three must be (Y/n)’s friends. Thank you tagging along. Please, take a seat at the front. There’s four spots waiting for you all.”

Nodding, you silently made your way to the front where the empty seats were, ignoring the looks your friends were giving you.

As the four of you sat down, Stretch beat everyone to the point. “What the hell was that, (Y/n)? You made friends with the Ringleader himself?”

“No! We're not friends…I went exploring the tracks yesterday to clear my head and I sorta bumped into him...”

Before any of you could continue the conversation, the lights went out and a single spot light shined center stage. Only this time, there stood a man in red. His tophat was slightly slanting to one side as he leaned the slightest amount of his weight on his cane for a second before lifting it and greeting everyone.

“Hello, boys and girls. Welcome to The Circus of Souls! I hope you all are enjoying our opening night here in your cozy little town. Thank you for being here and trusting us to entertain you for the evening.” 

He glanced over at you before he smiled and continued to address the crowd. “Now, the show you are about to see may be harmful to some since we’ll be using bright lights, flashing lights, and....a bit of disturbing imagery. I know I just greeted you all in, but if there are those of you who are sensitive to these types of things, I suggest you leave the tent immediately for your own safety."

A few groups of people started to leave the tent, only taking a few moments. Making sure everyone was out of harm's way, Phantom grinned as he waved his hand, bowing to the audience. “With that out of the way, I wish you all a fun and safe night here.”

As the spotlight disappeared, the red undertone turned to purple. You felt the same pain in your chest seeing the purple smoke cover the stage. The music started as your eyes scanned the stage before they landed on a familiar silhouette.

A voice over the speakers rang out, startling you. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls! Gather 'Round, Gather 'Round. Sit Back, Relax, and please, stay in your seats.”

You gripped the strap of your book bag, listening and looking right at the silhouette. “Kick your feet up, and grab some popcorn. Oh, and of course! Lest we not forget!” Feeling warmth by the left side of your face, the next phrase made the hair on your neck stand up, hearing it closer than you expected. “Enjoy The Show”

The stage lights came on, making your eyes widen, seeing him standing there center stage like in your nightmare.

“Come One, Come All! And Behold we have a Sight Immeasurable, A Spectacle, Of Innocence and Fright. Oh Maybe 2, 3, 4 or even five long nights. Now you're crawling, ever stalling. With no end in sight. Up all night to see if you can make it. All new friends to see if you can take it! Be still, be quiet. They still know you haven't left yet!”

White and purple lights started to flash throughout the tent. The purple smoke still covered the bottom of the stage. The man soon encouraged the crowd to  come up to the stage while the band continued to play.

“And We'll Pretend. We'll just pretend, pretend that day would never end. I'll make believe that you can see. Everything they did to me. Nowhere to hide and now we're through but if we were just like you. I'll be your friend, I'll be your friend. You can trust me 'till the end.”

Stretch pulled you and the others to the front of the stage, grinning in excitement as everyone started to make their way too.

He smiled down at everyone as he waved to the crowd, making his way across the stage to see everyone else. “There's something bad inside me, I'm broken beyond fixing. Save me! I know that we've all been here. It only hurts a second, there's nothing to fear!”

Making his way further from the crowd, the purple smoke covered the audience so they weren't able to see the stage.

“I have you hidden way too well. It's time to let you out, put on a mask to hide yourself. That made you one of us now!”

The smoke subsided in a flash of white light. Looking back up, you noticed he had purple streaks running down his cheeks now. “And we'll pretend, we'll Just pretend. Pretend that day would never end. I'll make believe that you can see everything they did to me. Nowhere to hide, and now we're through. But if we were just like you. I'll be your friend, I'll be your friend. You can trust me 'till the end.”

He reached out his free hand to you, pulling you up on stage with him. You looked down at your friends, and they were only cheering, seeing you up on stage. The man got your attention by grabbing your chin like he'd done before. Looking into his eyes, you saw they were black with swirls of bright purple.

“We need you, so we can escape. If they find you, it'll be too late, We need you, so we can escape.” Glancing around, you saw the children you saw in your nightmare. They were pale and thin, as if they were ghosts. “If they find you, it'll be too late.”  Turning you around so you were facing the crowd, he wrapped his free arm around your waist, holding you against his chest and swaying with you, singing out to the crowd. You looked around and saw the children come closer.

“And we'll pretend, we'll just pretend, pretend that day would never end. I'll make believe that you can see everything they did to me. Nowhere to hide and now we're through. But if we were just like you.” The man let you go when one of the kids almost touched you. Helping you down, he smiled as he let go of your hand. He looked at you through the end of the song. Your friends took notice, only smiling for now. “I'll be your friend, I'll be your friend. You can trust me 'till the end. Now we're afraid, we're all afraid. Afraid that it might be too late! They never learn to wait their turn. Now we get to watch them burn.”

The lights started to slowly fade. The smoke disappeared from the crowd and slowly rose around the band. “Nowhere to hide and now we're through. But if we were just like you, I'll be your friend, I'll be your friend. You can trust me 'till the end….Trust me till the end!” The last thing you saw were his eyes shining bright purple before the smoke covered them.

The lights went out for a second and when they came back on, the stage was empty, save for the Ringleader again. “Well, wasn’t that entertaining! What did you all think?”

The crowd cheered enthusiastically, making the small orb on his cane light up. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed the little show our incredible singer, Natemare, performed. He’s known to have a flair for the dramatics, if you couldn’t tell already.” The crowd roared in laughter. 

In a matter of seconds, the laughs turned to clapping and cheers when Natemare walked out, standing next to Phantom. He had a grin on his face he bowed, soaking in all the enthusiasm. “Thank you! Though, I couldn’t have done it without the brave soul that let me bring them up here with me.” He looked down at you, smiling, and gave you a wink. 

“I’ll be here all week, so if you’d like to see another performance, my time stamps should be on display just outside this tent.”

Phantom wrapped an arm around Natemare’s shoulders, waving to the crowd. “Goodnight everyone! Thank you for making our opening night one we won’t forget! Be safe traveling home, now!”

As the crowds filed out of the Circus, Meer grabbed your arm. You looked around, seeing them all looking at you and giggling. 

“What is it?” Taking your arm back, you turned around and faced them.

“Oh, c’mon, (Y/n), you don’t have to hide it.”

“Hide what?”

“You have to tell us! Was he as cute up close?” Sam squealed in excitement, remembering the scene.

“I bet he was! Please tell us!” Stretch grinned, grabbing your hand.

“More like he was terrifying…”

“Huh?” All three girls look at you confused.

“I….I had a nightmare last night and he was in it. I don’t know how to explain this, but I feel like there’s a reason we happened to see him perform today and the fact he picked me out of everyone?”

“Uh oh, I think (Y/n) has a crush on him. Aww, that's so cute! He’s like your dream boy or something.” Sam giggled as she poked your cheek.

You moved her hand away and pouted at the three of them.”It’s not like that at all! Guys, please listen to me, there's something going on here. Didn’t you see those kids up there?!”

“Yeah, but the Ringleader said there would be disturbing imagery, they were probably holograms or something.” Meer adjusted her bag a bit.

“...I know they weren’t holograms. I know I’m sounding crazy right now, but can you three just listen to what I have to say first and then you can say whatever the hell you want after?”

The three girls looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. “Alright, we’ll listen.”

“Thank you. Can we meet up at the park by my house tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, not too early though.” Meer looked around when she noticed everyone was staring at her. “What? I don’t like waking up super early…”

“Yeah, sure, we’ll meet around eleven. Does that work for everyone?”

Nodding in agreement, the four of you headed home. After a long, and sort of fun night, you just wanted to go to sleep.

Dropping your bag by your bed, you immediately fell onto your bed, not caring about changing or properly laying on your bed. Almost instantly falling asleep, the purple smoke emerged from your bag as Natemare took form. He looked at you for a moment before using his smoke to get you under your blankets without waking you. “I’ll give you a break tonight. You need it, kid…”

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