#and I am not in any position to judge

[badninken]

One Piece boys meeting a ninja and being fucking Weird about it:

When the ninja says no:

When the ninja gives up and says yes:

The boys are not being normal about the ninja

[mihai-florescu]

...are u a proshipper?

I post about my opinions on shipping culture every other week so im going to share one of the latest ones, but tldr is i find both terms of pro and antishipping reductive and meaningless in the grand scheme of media analysis outside fandom infighting, which in itself is not very meaningful either. Sorry if this is an annoying or pretentious take but it's been my opinion for a long time. I find it a fascinating topic how fiction can affect reality through the messages and ideas inbedded by the author but not only, also the power of the fans who can change the perception of the work. I'll try to get back on track to the original question... there can be patterns indicative of an individual's personality and morals through the media they frequently engage with and by extension ships they like, and if you mainly engage with loli incest because you consider it hot then like. Thats offputting and i will be avoiding that personally. But i dont agree with policing what type of media can exist and which relationships are okay to explore and push to get an interesting character or story, or what certain relationships can mean to individuals. I will never stop people from engaging with things in a way i dont personally agree with, so nowadays i subscribe to the age old "dont like dont look" mindset, but i also question why im uncomfortable with certain depictions when i encounter them to better understand myself and maybe even the other person.

I hope this made sense? It's a topic i think there can be a lot said and im afraid i cant give a yes/no answer when i find both sides are limiting compared to my actual beliefs about engaging with media (i hate calling it media, i wish to call it art, but i fear thatll make me sound more pretentious if i refer to the games or shows i like as art considering their reputation...) I end up making fun of the labels especially when theyre used as character descriptors when theyre very situational... i dont think someone in a fantasy world would have the same mental framework about relationships as an internet user engaged in shipping wars. Thats what my post was about, since i think this ask was a result of that tag, just poking fun at fandom culture as i tend to do^_^

[its-tea-time-darling]

my roommate has a girl he‘s started to date, and his room has a common wall with mine and i did hear them have sex on the first date they had at our place and now, tumblr fam, im gonna be honest im terrified of what the future will bring regarding sex noises 😭😭😭😭

[spotsupstuff]

ur grading people and if they get an f theyre blocked? my main you aint a kindergarten teacher this is a microblogging platform

yeah, that's why there's that function called blocking! :) cuz this is a microblogging site! that's what microblogging platforms have! :) so you don't have to put up with people's shit! :) interesting that kindergarten teachers where you live are capable of blocking people in real life, hope you had fun with that

[not-rome]

mom: i love the ending to this show :)

me, internally: this was the cheapest ending to a show. it could've been so much better

me: that's great! it's pretty cool.

[all-with-angel]

"Stop moving."

You groan, trying to sit up when you find yourself weighed down by two large arms wrapped around you. You trying to pry Sukuna's arms off of you, but to no avail. "S'kuna, let me go."

He doesn't even give you the privilege of an answer, simply tightening his grip around your middle. Sukunas lips find your neck, warm as he takes a bite of your throat.

"Ah, ah, no! 'm still sore!" You attempt to wriggle away tilting your head to hide your poor nape from any more of his marks. He doesn't relent, but he does release his mouth from you before slowly peppering kisses along your neck and shoulder blade. He does so with an annoyed huff, but hes noticeably more gentle. Unhurried.

"Your covered in marks, brat." He grumbles before giving a dark-colored hickey a slow lick. "Where else am I supposed to kiss you?"

"How about my lips?"

Sukunas eyes flicker up to you, raising his head from your neck.

"I mean- they are sore but not as much as the rest of m-" His lips are on your own before you could finish, and you couldn't do anything but sigh into his mouth. You close your eyes, gently wrapping your arms around his neck.

He seems satisfied at this, judging by how he nips at your lips without drawing blood this time, and pushes his tongue into your mouth.

You feel him shift his position, pulling you closer and laying some of his weight on you.

When he pulls away, theres a smirk on his face as he licks his lips. Crimson eyes full of want.

"We should go for another rou-"

"Absolutely not."

[cats-in-the-clouds]

my sister got engaged and we’re all really happy for her but my bitter rain cloud of a dad (who naturally she told last) is giving her a bit of passive aggressive grief about it despite her boyfriend being like the best man of our generation (presumably either because he’s not catholic or because my dad sees them as young dumb unemployed people who aren’t ready for marriage or because he’s mad he barely has any real love with his own wife or something). so like pray for us? i wish i knew what to do

[inbabylontheywept]

Memories of Grandpa Hank

I'm eating a bag of mormon gorp that tastes like gasoline while watching the rain run down the mountain. The taste doesn't even bother me anymore - all homemade gorp tastes like this. It's just a natural consequence of everyone keeping their prepper shit in their garages. 

My dad's out in the clearing, wandering around with his GPS. He's got some pieces of wire out on top of it to try and make the effective antennae bigger, but it just makes it look like he's dowsing. Another mormon tradition. I ask him if he's close to find water yet, and he looks up at me, little rivers flowing off him, and says yeah - he can feel it. 

I'm sure he can. I settle under my tree and watch the droplets roll down the needles. Awaiting the final judgement of Judge GPS. 

A few minutes later, it provides: 

Turns out my dad forgot to record the location of the car this morning. The GPS remembers where we parked yesterday, but by luck my dad knows how to get from there to our car. Downside is that it's a nine mile walk just to get to yesterday's position, then another five miles to backtrack. That's fourteen miles total. 

I'm only thirteen. 

Think you can make it? my dad asks. And it's a kindness that he's worried, but it's not like there's an alternative. What else would I do, sit down in the murk and cross my fingers he finds me again? Ask him to carry me 14 miles? 

I'll be pretty jelly legged, I say. But yeah. I'll make it. 

Attaboy, he says. He fishes a bag of poptarts out and offers me one as - I think - a peace offering. A, sorry you're gonna have to walk 14 miles in the rain because I goofed kind of gift. 

I take a bite and, despite being individually wrapped, it still manages to taste like diesel fumes. We start hiking our incredibly long distance in terrible weather for foolish reasons, and I joke to my dad that the only way to make this day any more mormon would be by pushing handcarts. 

He laughs. Neither of us laugh again until 11 pm, when we stumble like drunkards into camp. My grandpa has stayed up late to make sure we weren’t lost, but he only stays up long enough to see us arrive. We try to eat a dinner of sweet potato stew, but after falling asleep in the middle twice, we agree to just go to bed. 

I sleep in well past nine and wake up to nobody in camp but my grandpa. My dad left with my sister to keep hunting around 5 am. I know that everyone assumes that their dad is invincible when they're 13, but I'm 28 now and part of me still thinks he's gonna live forever. That God made exactly one perpetual motion machine, and it raised me in the desert. 

---

Around noon my grandpa suggests hunting again. If it was my dad, I'd probably tune him out, but I like my grandpa's style of hunting. My dad hikes and hikes and hikes until the elk get tired and just let him shoot them. My grandpa finds the sleepiest, sunniest, coziest field and takes a nap there, figuring if the elk have any decent taste they'll come there at some point.

Man's got a knack for knowing what elk like - he's right more often than not. I think he might've been an elk in a previous life. 

I go with him, and much as I hate to admit it, the hike is good for me. I start off walking like a pirate on two peg legs, so stiff I might as well not have knees, but by the end of the mile and a half walk I'm almost normal. We make it to the edge of the clearing, and my grandpa finds a patch of grass taller and softer than the beds inside the trailer, and he curls up to sleep there. I look across the grass and I watch the comings and goings of critters through the field. Sometimes I use the scope to get a magnified view, but I never do so with my hand on the trigger. The thought of accidentally looking a person through that glass is something that sends a chill up my spine. 

Some deer wander through the glen, but it'd take a fool to mistake one of them for an elk. A few hours later, my grandpa wakes up and asks if I want to wander around a little. It's a lovely day. Rain comes in bursts in Arizona, and the day after is almost always clear as can be. And for a short while, all the desert browns turn green and lush. Hard mosses turn squishy and cacti swell up like fresh baked muffins and for a while you can get why people settled in these god forsaken wastes. 

So I go with him, and we walk on, me with my gun, him just taking in the forest. He looks so peaceful that I get a little jealous, but it's not until my grandpa stops and looks at me that I even notice it myself. Takes a mirror, sometimes, to know yourself.

Being near my grandpa is always a strange thing for me. He's quiet, and he doesn't talk much, and I don't ever get the feeling that he's particularly emotionally intelligent - but it's like he's interacting with a reality more raw and real than mine. Like I'm watching symbols on a screen and he's counting atoms. And sometimes, just being near him gives me access to that raw matter. Just something about how he is breaks the illusions of the world.

He looks at the gun like a foreign object, like he doesn't recognize it, then he looks at me. He speaks and he doesn't mince words. 

What would you do if an elk came across the path and you shot it right now? he asks. 

Well, I'd start cleaning it, I say, and he waves the words away like cobwebs in his face. 

But would you celebrate? he presses.

And I look at him, and I don't actually see any judgement staring back. He knows the answer, and he's at peace with it. He’s asking so I can see it too. He’s being a mirror so I can see my own face.

I think I might actually cry, I admit. And he nods along in agreement before reaching forward to take the gun off my shoulder. 

Lets just walk today, he says. No chance of killing anything. No worrying about that. 

Right, I say. 

He pops the chamber open and tosses me back my bullet. I catch it, and the relief I feel is palpable. 

Can I change my mind? I ask, and he shrugs.

Whenever you want. Hunt or don’t. It’s not the hunting that I’m worried about. It’s seeing you ignore your conscience.

And for a moment, I'm there in the real world with him, and my gloves are off, and reality is a metal cube in my hand: Sharp and cold and heavy.

Or maybe that’s just the bullet.

---

We make it back to camp a bit later than my dad. We get there and he’s waiting for us. If he's tired, he doesn't show it. 

How'd it go? he asks. My grandpa looks at me, and I don't know how to respond. I don't know how to explain it, and I am scared. 

Great, he replies. It's a shame Babs only has a doe tag. We saw a five-point out there. Close enough to hit with a football. 

No, my dad says. If his grin was a half inch wider, both ends of his mouth would meet in the back of his head and everything above his tongue would slide off.

Tell him Babs, grandpa says. And, not for the first time, and especially not the last, I try my hand at spinning a yarn. 

It's pretty good. But at 13, I still have a lot to learn.

[thetriumphantpanda]

you'll just have to taste me | joel miller

Summary | He knows he's no good, knows it's a bad idea, you're out of bounds and should stay that way, but it's okay to test the waters, right?

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.7K

Warnings | this is literally 1.7k of utter filth, you've been warned, it's nasty, I told you, okay? Unspecified age gap, Joel is your dad's buddy and Sarah is your friend. Joel fights with his morals but the pussy is too good. Explicit smut, JUST THE TIP, unprotected PiV, cumshot, cum eating, spit play, dirty talk, Joel talks you through it. No outbreak au, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | I AM SO INCREDIBLY LATE TO POST THIS, but this is my entry to @hellishjoel's HOT DILF SUMMER CHALLENGE. I know it's September and this was not my original idea, but it came to me and I wrote this in less than an hour. It's filth and it's nasty and I beg you not to judge me okay? Written and edited on my phone so forgive any mistakes.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s going to hell. He’s always known it. Despite the years of his parents putting him in his Sunday best and taking him to church each week with his brother, despite his upbringing and the way he’s always tried to be the perfect southern gentleman, Joel Miller is going to hell, and the evidence in right in front of him.

You. His buddy’s daughter. His own daughter’s friend. The bane of his existence for the whole damn summer, with your short dresses and flirty eyes and the way you make him laugh and the way he’s wanted you since you waltzed back into town, masters degree under arm, with one purpose which seemed to be to turn him on at every possible opportunity.

It’s been bubbling for weeks. You’d caught him in the corridor during movie night with Sarah, whilst she was downstairs microwaving popcorn and he’d had no choice but to kiss you, your lips drenched in something that tasted like mango and made him dizzy. Then, at the annual neighbourhood cookout, when you’d dropped a fork and bent over to pick it up, flashing him those skimpy panties as you did, he’d had no choice then but to drag you upstairs and teach you a lesson, ten sharp slaps on your pert ass and strong words that you needed to stop. He doesn’t doubt you went home that night and shoved three fingers into your cunt and dreamt of him as you came.

But now, it’s all real. Sarah’s gone back to college, your parents back to work, and you have nothing lined up until you start getting invited to interview for positions that you’d applied to with a slew of applications about two weeks ago. It’s why you’re on his bed, it’s why he’s left Tommy on site on his own, and why you’re bare as the day you were born, legs spread obscenely, pussy on display as he stands at the foot of his bed and contemplates whether he really should do this.

“Y’scared, old man?” You tease, one hand trailing down your body, two fingers spreading the swollen lips of your cunt, middle finger dipping inside.

He can see the webbing of slick you drag from yourself, finger slow as it circles your clit. His eyes can’t miss the way your hole flutters as you touch yourself, like it’s begging to be filled, begging to be filled by his throbbing cock that he’s currently fisting in his hand.

“Ain’t scared,” He mutters, “Y’sure you wanna do this?”

You don’t speak in response, just dip two fingers back into your weeping cunt and start fucking yourself with them. He squeezes his cock a little tighter in his hand, feeling the weeping of pre-cum at his tip as he watches.

“Ain’t no comin’ back from this.” He muses, moving forward, knees on the mattress, your legs spreading wider to accommodate the width of his thighs.

“Want you,” Is all he hears from your mouth as his cock rests on your pussy, hot and heavy against your skin, “Want your cock, Joel.”

He thrusts his hips a little at that, dragging his length through the soaking folds of your cunt, head rubbing against the swollen bud of your clit.

“Y’sure?” He asks, continuing the rub of his cock, “It’s all over then, baby,” He coos, “I’ll ruin ya.”

“Good,” You groan out, hips shifting to try and catch his tip at your entrance, to try and get exactly what you want, “I want it, Joel, I want it bad.”

“Y’know what I think?” He asks, looking down at you, stopping his movements and opting to circle your clit with his thumb instead, “I reckon we need t’make sure.”

“I am-” You try and protest, but he’s shushing you.

“I reckon,” He says slowly, bringing the tip of his cock to press to your weeping core, “It don’t count if it’s just the tip,” He pushes his hips forward ever so slightly, not enough to sink inside, but enough that he’s already had a taste of what you’ll feel like around him, “Just the tip baby, and then we’ll know.”

He looks down at you and he can see your wild eyes, the way you nod your head against the mattress. You’re such a good girl for him, taking whatever he’ll give you, so he does just that. With three fingers on the base of his cock, he lets the tip of him push inside you, just enough that the head of his cock is nestled inside you, and he knows he’s fucked.

You’re tight and you’re warm and you’re breathing and whimpering for him, and those perfect walls are clenching around him so right and so good that it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove his cock all the way in and damn you both to hell.

“Jesus girl,” He breathes, one hand clutching at your hip to hold you still, “Fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?”

You don’t speak back to him, it’s all you can do to lie and try not to writhe too much as he starts his shallow thrusts. The head of his cock popping from your wet cunt and then being sucked back in so perfectly. He’s had his fair share of women since Sarah went to college and he knows he’s a lot to take, knows that he knows what he’s doing too, but when he looks down at you, your eyes tilted back in your skull, cunt squeezing him just right, he can’t help but think this is what he’s been missing.

“That good?” He asks, bringing his thumb back to your clit, swirling wetness across it as he continues the shallow thrusts of his hips.

“Want it all,” You grumble, “Can take it all, Joel.”

“Ain’t got a doubt,” He teases, but doesn’t relent, “But we gotta make sure.”

He wants to lean down, wants to cover your body with his own and suck one of your perfect nipples into his mouth, but he knows the minute he does you’ll beg him so nice and he’ll break, so he resists, swirling his thumb across your clit with more purpose now.

“M’gonna-” You choke out, and he knows, he can feel it, the way you’re fluttering and tightening around the head of his cock so perfectly, “Gonna come, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He asks ruefully, “Gonna come on my cock, pretty girl?” He smiling down at you as your mouth drops open, your cunt pulling painfully tight around him, “Go on, you can do it,” He babbles, trying to fight the tightening in his own stomach until you’ve come for him, “Come for me, baby.”

And you do, by God you do, and he thinks it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. You whine, a high-pitched kind of thing, eyes clamping shut as you arch your back. There’s more slick around his cock than he’s ever seen before, making it easy for the tip of his cock to ease you through it. The convulsing of your walls around him bring him to his own end, using his last braincell to drag the tip from your cunt and give himself three strokes before the thick ropes of his cum are splashing across your swollen pussy. He watches where they land, painting your skin as his own as his head tips back and breathes a sigh of relief.

He know’s he should stop, but there’s something mesmerising about the mix of his cum and your own, the way he’s dripping down you and onto his sheets. His shuffles down a little and leans forward, using his thumbs to spread your pussy open, before he uses his tongue to gather the mess down there. He’s slurping at you, tasting your cunt through his cum, gathering as much of the two of you as he can in his mouth.

You’re moaning for him when his tongue flicks a few times at your sensitive bud, but then his body is over yours, weight pressed against you as one of his hands takes your chin, squeezing at your jaw to get you to open your mouth, which you do, gladly.

Joel opens his own mouth, letting his cum, your slick and his spit drop from his own into your waiting mouth. He doesn’t give you a minute to swallow anything, his tongue mixing with yours in a kiss that is messy and obscene. He can feel your hips against his own, your hot cunt pressing against him. If he was younger, he’d pin you down and fuck you again, this time for real, but all he can do is pull away.

“Swallow it,” He orders, closing your mouth and watching the bob of your throat as you do what he says, producing your tongue for him, “Good fuckin’ girl.”

He unceremoniously collapses onto the bed next to you, arm over his eyes as he tries to recover some semblance of composure. He can feel your body next to his, shuffling a little closer, and then he can hear you stifling a laugh and then before long, it’s not stifled, it’s full on laughter. He takes his arm from his eyes and looks at you, and can’t help but start laughing himself, until his ribs hurt and you’ve calmed down enough, your body draped across his in the mid-afternoon glow.

“This is bad, huh?” You whisper, fingers dancing through the smattering of hair across his chest.

“Terrible, really.” He responds.

“I’m sure though,” And he holds you a little tighter at that, “Next time, I want the whole thing.”

“Don’t worry baby,” He says quietly, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, “You can have whatever you want next time.”

[quantum1mmortality]

The crew & using toys on their S/O in bed please with a cherry on top??

First time writing the whole crew kinda nervous 🤭🤭 I'm not writing Swansea tho I will NOT be writing nsfw of a married man

Tw/cw; Afab!reader, winners love winning in Anyas hcs (use of the term pillow princess), jorkinit jumpscare

Not proofread

Curly

I'm actually not sure if he'd be into toys

I've literally only written for Curly so I'd say I'm a Curly expert, and I just don't think he'd be into toys

He'd use a vibrator on you every now and then, but he'd just use it to tease you and make you beg for him.

He'd probably use cock rings. I am a firm believer Curly would use cock rings. Not all the time, but if he's had a really stressful day at work, he's wanting an extra hard hitting orgasm.

Omg not a toy but APHRODISIACS!!! This man would go crazy for some aphrodisiacs, whether he's taking it or you are.

Now I wanna write a wedding night one shot with Curly and aphrodisiacs thanks a lot anon 😔😔😔 I've got enough shit to write already

Anya

I don't care what any of you say this woman is a pillow princess

YOU'D be using toys on HER

She'd also be a cryer but that's not the point

She'd have a drawer dedicated to sex toys. She's trying to get into med school, she's CONSTANTLY stressed, how else is she supposed to release some of that stress? Don't judge her.

She wouldn't be into straps or dildos, she'd be into shit that vibrates. Vibrators obviously, rose toys, anything that stimulates the clit honestly

I lied she is into dildos this woman is a sucker for a RABBIT!!! Like I said, if it vibrates, she wants it.

Her favorite combo is the rose toy/vibrator + pussy licking. She cums so fast, then gets embarrassed, then begs for more. Praise her a bunch and she'll be able to go a few more rounds

BONUS CONTENT!!; she has a Christina and Princess Albertina, no further comments

Daisuke

Oh yeah, he's using toys.

He has a tongue piercing and sometimes he'll swap it out for a bar that vibrates but y'all aren't ready for that convo

He's gonna use the basic toys, nothing we haven't gone over yet. Vibrators, rose toys, cock rings, ect. He's just trying to figure out what he likes for right now, and he likes all of them

In missionary, he'd hold either a vibrator or rose up to your clit while he fucks you. Kind of uncomfortable as a position, but if it gets you off, it's worth it to him.

Not sure if this is considered a toy but he'd be interested in sounding. He's definitely had you try it on him once or twice, and he never lasts for more than a minute 😭 poor boy

He's just trying new things out. He's new to having a committed relationship, so anything you'd be into, he'd be willing to try. He'd let you peg him if you wanted, but don't ask me to write that.

My pegging days are over

Jonathan

The kinkiest cunt that ever cursed this god forsaken ship

Toys are a must have for him. On you, not him. He only likes using them on you, because it gives him a sense of power over you.

He'd be one of those assholes that would put a bluetooth vibrator in your panties and wait till you're in public to turn it on the highest setting. Like an asshole

Jizzdaddy would have a lot of toys. He'd have one of those robotic dildo setups that like.. idk does the thrusting how the fuck do I explain this????

You guys get what I mean if you've ever been on a porn site you've seen one

Anyway, he'd have one of those setups and watch it fuck you. Ass up, head down, grasping at whatever you could since HIS sadistic ass turned it up to the highest speed.

Eventually hed get pissed off and fuck you himself, claiming that you love the toy more than you love him 😔 the allegations are true but he doesn't have to know that

He'd also use plugs on you. In public, too. He doesn't care. If you humiliate yourself, that's your fault, not his.

vibrators are used during sex, nothing new. But it's the same situation as before. Claiming you love the toy more than him, so he stops using it.

Sometimes he'll just give in though and decide he doesn't care, and wants to tease you more than anything. Highest speed it can go, or the slowest. No in-between. He'll have you begging one way or another.

Chat I hate writing rough characters someone request ooc soft Joshua hcs so I can write him like I do Curly 🙏🙏🙏

A/N; Anya makes me wanna kiss girls

[bvidzsoo]

The blue and pink of your skin

ᨒCherry Blossom, March Eventᨒ

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: sunshine!Jeong Yunho x grumpy!reader

ᨒ Warning: cursing ᨒ Word count: 7.3k ᨒ Rating: sfw ᨒ Genre: fluff, soulmates: a touch from your soulmate will leave an imprint there, road trip, stuck together/roommates, sunshine & grumpy, one friend group, slight enemies to lovers ᨒ Summary: If there's one person you never understood, and stopped trying to, it was Jeong Yunho. Upon your first meeting back in college, you just knew he'd be a pain in the ass...and you were right. His vibrant personality matched with the constant smile on his face and sickening positivity always made you stay away from him. But much to your dismay, your friend groups mashed quite well, and years after college, you were still going strong and hanging out at any given opportunity. Much to your horror, your best friend makes you share a room and a bed with Yunho for the weekend, and that's when things change...but not for the reasons you'd first think of.

A/N: Helloo, my loves! And so, we've reached the penultimate drabble of this event, it feels kind of bittersweet, but I am so glad I could share these stories with you, Mina and I had a blast planning this event and writing all the little stories. Posting this drabble today was strategic since I wanted it to be the closest to Yunho's birthday, hehe, so happy belated birthday to our Yunho! ^^ Out of all the stories, this was the first one I got an idea for, so I'm really excited to finally post it. It turned out shorter than I expected (and I'm glad for that ahahaha). I hope you enjoy, I'd like to thank everyone who have shared their thoughts on all of our stories, we appreciate your feedback lots! That being said, let me know what you thought of this one, and I hope to see you around for my other stories! ^^ divider @cromernet

ᨒ Join the taglist here! ᨒ

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@foxinnie8 @marvolos @licityvibes @amoryeonjun @nkryuki

@matchahintonagar @k1ttym0nkey @justconniez @ateezswonderland @lemonkait00

@youcanstayalways @cristy-101 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @wooyouz @cosmicrecs

@mizushimakumiko @awkward-fucking-thing @juicyjaxxy @jenluvzen @kang-ulzzang

@mintsugarr93

            You groaned as you stretched your numb muscles, massaging your calf as you waited for your best friend’s boyfriend to unload your luggage. The drive had taken you three hours, but the longer you stared at the visage, the more you realised it was worth being stuffed inside a car next to Jeong Yunho. You scowled to yourself as your eyes shifted onto the tall man, who was—unsurprisingly—laughing about something he was watching on his phone. His bony knee had been digging into your thigh the whole ride because the tallest and largest man had decided to take the middle seat for some obscure reason. You rolled your eyes and faced Seungcheol as he finally grabbed your duffel bag, hauling it out of the trunk of his car.

“Damn,” He muttered, one eyebrow raised teasingly, “Did you only pack dumbbells, or why is this so heavy?”

You were about to retort something just as Jeonghan slid up next to you, smirking mischievously, “Nah, this lovely lady wouldn’t leave the house without all that face paint she uses. Had to make sure everything was packed.”

“You assholes.” You snapped, shrugging off Jeonghan’s arm and ripping your duffle bag out of Seungcheol’s hands, flipping them off as you stormed off towards the lovely-looking beach house. It looked rather spacious, and judging based on the pictures your best friend had shown you of the interior, it had a Greek theme going on. You sighed as you walked up the front steps, still able to hear Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s amused cackles, making you shake your head. At times, you couldn’t believe you were friends with such idiots, and for such a long time, at that. Has it been five—no, maybe six years—since your friend group formed, all thanks to one drunken night when all of you just so happened to attend the same frat party, teaming up randomly for a game that you couldn’t even recall anymore? You remembered those days fondly, even called it the Golden Times since you’ve never had as much fun in your life as then. And now, with college over and everyone having busy lives, things were a lot calmer and more complicated. It was a miracle everyone was able to make it this weekend, your little get-together was much expected and welcomed.

The wood creaked under your feet as you took to the second floor, following your best friend’s instructions from this morning. The rooms had already been assigned to everyone, and who your roommate would be was still a mystery. You were just about to guess who it could be when you heard footsteps following after you on the stairs, making you turn your head back. Your heart dropped when your eyes fell on Jeong Yunho, who—once again—was unsurprisingly grinning and looking as happy as if he had won the lottery. He nodded at you in a small greeting as if you hadn’t already seen each other—hell, you were even forced to breathe the same air for three hours—and out of instinct, your feet carried you up the stairs faster. Yunho looked amused as he jogged up after you, and as if you were a little kid, you found yourself basically running for your assigned room, heart beating fast. Your duffle bag was getting in the way of your legs, forcing you to be a lot slower than you usually were, so you chanced a look back over your shoulder, only to see Yunho still following you. Your heart lurched in your chest as he laughed—as if this was amusing to him—and you finally made it inside your room, whirling around as you stared at Yunho wide-eyed. Why was he following you?! Wasn’t it enough you had to endure his laughter and stupid stories for two hours? And then, you had to sit there stiffly as his head lolled to the side, landing on your shoulder as soft snores left his mouth?! God, everything about Jeong Yunho was so damn irritating—you wanted to scream. Instead, you slammed the door in his face before he could reach the threshold of your assigned room, heart racing in your chest.

You’d be ashamed to admit your age if anyone were to see you right now, but as the doorknob started twisting, your hand shot out and grabbed it, keeping it from turning. Your eyebrows furrowed as the person on the other side wouldn’t give up—Yunho, the person was Yunho—and you yelped when the door started rattling. Your fingers flexed and your muscles tensed as you dropped your duffle bag, holding the door with both hands, cursing when even the doorframe started shaking.

“What the fuck,” You heard a confused mutter on the other side, “Is this stuck?”

God, why did your best friend hate you? There was no way in hell your best friend willingly made Yunho your roommate—she must’ve been held at gunpoint by Seungcheol when she made the arrangements.

“Hey, Y/N? You good in there?!” And God, you hated the slight concern lacing Yunho’s tone as your hands started aching from your vice-like grip on the doorknob, “The door’s stuck!”

“No, it’s not, you idiot.” You hissed under your breath, accepting your fate as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Then, on the next push, you twisted the doorknob suddenly and yanked it open, making Yunho stumble forward with an alarmed yelp. His eyes widened as he barrelled inside your shared room, hands out in front of himself to brace him in case he fell. He looked like a clown, a tall and idiotic one, as he found his footing—legs in a wide stance and mouth open in a silent scream. He slowly turned his body, ears burning red, an unsure smile on his lips.

“Oh my God, that was scary.” He muttered as he looked around the room, his eyes falling on you as he grabbed his backpack off his shoulder, “Well, hi there, roomie!”

And God, how much you hated that cheerful—full of life and happiness and the desire to live—smile on his handsome face, you wanted to both scream and punch him.

“Roomie, my ass.” You huffed before turning around and storming outside, leaving a confused Yunho looking after you. His head had tilted to the side as he rubbed his nape with an awkward chuckle leaving his lips, and he shrugged before he grabbed your duffle bag to place it on the left side of your shared queen bed since he knew you preferred sleeping on that side. Meanwhile, with your blood boiling and your cheeks red from both anger and embarrassment, you stormed out onto the back deck, instantly finding your best friend. She was already sipping a cocktail out of a fake coconut, and you wondered when she had made that since you had just arrived.

“Kang Seulgi!” You snapped, arms crossing over your chest as you blocked the sun from your best friend’s face. Yeosang, her brother, jumped in the seat next to her when he heard their surname being called, placing a hand over his heart.

“Lord, I’m still not used to you shouting at us.” He muttered under his breath, going back to his magazine when you threw him a dirty look, “And I’ve been listening to it for at least ten years.”

Seulgi’s laughter drowned out her brother’s muttering, and you tried to channel your anger into your issue with Seulgi only. Yeosang was a lovely man, and you sometimes preferred him over his twin sister, but his snarky comments could make you climb walls and hang upside down like a female Spiderman.

“What’s the matter, my dear—”

But Seulgi wasn’t even finished asking when you were already speaking, fast, and throwing an accusing finger in her face, “You made me and Yunho room together?! Are you insane?!”

You felt Yeosang look over his magazine, amusement dancing on his features as Seulgi and he shared a look. Oh, so this wasn’t just Seulgi’s idea—sometimes you wondered why you decided to be friends with such devils.

“Honey, I thought we were over this.” Seulgi raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her cocktail nonchalantly, “It’s only for two nights, for God’s sake. And it’s literally Yunho, the sweetest guy you could ever meet. Do you want me to switch him up with Jeonghan? Or Soonyoung?”

You shuddered hearing those two names and quickly shook your head, realizing that rooming with one evil person or one that would never shut up was perhaps worse than rooming with the guy who’s been getting on your nerves since the moment you met him. Which was…five or six years ago, at that college party that changed your lives for the better and an eternity.

“Don’t be mad at me, my dear,” Seulgi pouted, reaching out to hold your hand, “Only you and Yunho aren’t a couple; I think it was expected you two end up rooming together. And because I knew you’d hate me for it, as compensation, I gave you the only room with an ocean view.”

Your flare died out at the mention of being able to see the water from your room, and you pouted as you intertwined your fingers with Seulgi’s. She chuckled, shaking her head at you as she offered you her cocktail. Leaning down, you took a sip and instantly regretted it as the potent alcohol burned your throat, the taste of coconut almost making you gag. Yeosang chuckled as he hid behind his magazine, eyes peeking out when you shuddered.

“I hope yours isn’t as atrocious as hers.” You pointed at the cocktail sitting on the coffee table next to Yeosang, and he shook his head, grinning proudly.

“Jongho’s bartender days had paid off well.” Right, you forgot for a second that Jongho had flown into the country just to go on this get-together with the whole of you. You couldn’t wait to catch up with him, eager to hear all of his stories and the places he’s visited lately. As a rising opera singer, you could confidently say Jongho was the smartest one in your bunch when it came to building a good future for himself. You let go of Seulgi’s hand as you hummed, shuffling on your feet now that you had nothing else to say. You had to room with Yunho whether you liked it or not. Breaking up the couples would’ve been an asshole move, and it would’ve also made you feel uncomfortable—unless Yeri, bless her the angel she was—would end up fighting with Soonyoung over some game, their fight leading her to ditch Soonyoung and room with you instead. One could pray, and you did as you headed back to your room, wanting to unpack your things.

You dragged your feet as you entered the house, the smell of something delicious cooking making your stomach growl. Jeonghan and Seungcheol were already in the kitchen, seasoning the meat and boiling water for ramen, the caramelized onion promising a delicious lunch in just a few hours. As you went up the stairs, you weren’t even surprised to find Soonyoung blasting his music loudly, the door to his and Yeri’s room opened as he was doing push-ups, Yeri nowhere in sight.

“Have a little consideration for some of us, yeah?” You knew Jongho was probably trying to catch up on much-needed sleep, but Soonyoung just pouted before he pushed the door open in your face, not before sticking his tongue out. You rolled your eyes and headed for your room, dread filling your body. Yunho was in there, probably still happy as if he had no worries in this damn world, either smiling or laughing at something on his goddamn phone. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the next two days that were to come, then pushed the door open.

Somehow, you weren’t surprised to see Yunho perched up on the edge of the bed, shoes kicked off and his hoodie disregarded as he was playing on his PlayStation Portal, his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed. The guy was obsessed with gaming throughout college, and you see he hadn’t let go of the bad habit just yet. You didn’t understand what was so entertaining or even pleasurable about wasting your time and life away in front of a console, playing stupid games that either had you mad or screaming at your teammates. Yunho tsked quietly as you walked further inside, shutting the door behind you and stepping out of your shoes, not knowing what to do next. The curtains were undrawn and your eyes settled on the pretty visage for a second, taking in the brightness of the ocean, the waves that crashed against the golden sand not too far from your vacation house. You felt eyes on you, and you turned your head to see Yunho looking up at you with a smile on his lips, the game loading on his console. God, did he have to resemble a damn excited dog? You couldn’t even look at a dog anymore without remembering Yunho, he ruined everything for you.

Looking at your duffle bag on the left side of the bed, realizing that Yunho had already unpacked his things on the right side of the room, made something snap in your chest as your heart started racing again. And what better way than to take your frustration out on Yunho? You gritted your teeth and stormed towards the bed, making Yunho’s eyes widen as you were headed straight for him. He sat up a bit taller when you stopped inches away from him, hands on your hips as you frowned, gnawing on your bottom lip for a second. He opened his mouth, and before he could say something to piss you off even more, your loud voice was clear in the room, “We need rules.”

Yunho didn’t say anything as he looked at you confused, tilting his head as his eyebrows slightly furrowed, “Uhm, what for?”

“Did you think I would just let you in my personal space?” You raised your eyebrows at Yunho and he pouted, the game on his console dinging that it was about to start. He looked down to pause it, then faced you again.

“I mean, we are adults, so I just didn’t expect for us to have…rules.” For someone who was a philosophy professor, he sure as hell looked and sounded dumb right now. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest instead, tapping your foot against the floor impatiently.

“That’s exactly why we need rules.” You huffed, then cleared your throat to make yourself understood, “Don’t turn on the overhead lights once I’ve gone to bed; if you snore, you’re instantly out. Clean the sink and toilet after you use it, it’s literally not that hard to close the lid. If I find pubic hair in the shower, you’re never using our bathroom ever again. If you have to fart, fine, but if it’s loud and smelly—for the love of God, Yunho, just use the damn terrace, I don’t want to partake in it. Keep your things on your side of the room, don’t touch my stuff and don’t steal my charger. And most importantly, don’t touch me—not even accidentally—while we are in bed. The pillows I’ll put between us are not to be moved, yeah?!”

Yunho just blinked at you, mouth slightly open as he seemed to be processing the information. As you stared at each other, you realized his black hair had gotten a bit longer since the last time you’d seen him, getting in his eyes. Eyes which were round and a pretty brown colour, staring up at you innocently as if you had accused him of a murder he had never committed. A murder that you would commit if he didn’t respect your boundaries.

“I mean, okay.” His voice was unsure as he pouted, looking around the room, “Can I at least have a little section of the wardrobe for my clothes?”

Great, and now you were the tyrant. You huffed and went to grab your duffle bag, hauling it up on the bed to start unpacking, “You act as if I just stripped you of all of your rights.”

“Might as well have done that, would’ve felt less stingy.” You froze, eyebrows furrowing as you gave Yunho a questioning look. He was still watching you, his cheerful expression finally gone—and the triumph you had expected to feel at being the cause of it never came, leaving you confused. Before you could question what he had meant, Yunho looked down and pressed play on his console, a loud and long sigh leaving his lips as he scooted further up on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. You gave his body a longer glance than necessary, then went back to the task at hand while also trying to locate all the available pillows in the room to put between the two of you on the bed.

            It was as if no time had passed, as if you were all just naïve and unassuming young adults in your early twenties again, doing the stupidest things that came to mind, sharing stories that certainly were laced with white lies to make them sound cooler, and life felt good for now. As you had dinner this evening, you came to realise that your life had become too monotonous, too frigid. You did the same things daily, getting up and going to work, only to return tired in the afternoon to a household that was empty and bland, waiting for you to fill it with life…which rarely happened since you couldn’t be bothered to pour your time into insignificant things. Most people that you knew were already paired up with their soulmates, having long found them. Your friend group—something that still shocked anyone you told them about—was formed by couples who were soulmates. You knew the Universe had a plan for everyone, stringing them together in mysterious ways, but this one was downright bizarre. Nobody would’ve thought on the night of your first meeting that you’d end up so tight-knit and important to each other, slowly but gradually each one of you discovering their soulmates. Well, except for you and Yunho.

It's not that you weren’t trying to find them; it’s that you were mostly too busy to bother with that, and you also weren’t fond of physical closeness. In a world which requires a touch from your soulmate to leave a mark, thus discovering your match, the thought made you shudder as you rarely let anyone close enough to touch you. Seulgi and Yeosang were exceptions, as were Jeonghan and Seungcheol since they never listened and only did it to annoy you. Sometimes, you wondered if the Universe accidentally mismatched their soulmates for someone else instead of each other, but whenever you voiced that thought, Seulgi would whine, and Jihyo would threaten to beat you up if you repeated that sentence. You knew better than anyone else what it felt like to be surrounded by unconditional love and adoration-filled looks passed between soulmates, and yet you wondered if Yunho ever felt the envy you did as you watched him across the table, head tipped back as he laughed loudly at whatever story Soonyoung was animatedly telling him.

He had always seemed so content, so confident in his aloneness; it made you wonder whether Yunho simply didn’t care about the existence of soulmates. Maybe he had a partner he wasn’t telling you all about, not that you were interested enough to know. The dinner table had been loud as everyone talked over each other, conversations flying around the table without stopping, the friend group eager to catch up and be nostalgic over the past. It felt nice to step away and relax a little, to be surrounded by people who had known you at your lowest and highest. You were thankful for having them, even if you rarely showed it to them, and as your eyes got glassy, you forced yourself to blink the tears away and blame it on the wine. Listening to Jongho, watching the happiness and excitement on his face, made something coil in your stomach, so proud of him for achieving his dream. It was now that you realised you wouldn’t change anything if you were allowed to go back in time—even if that meant meeting Yunho, too.

You don’t know when this displeasure for him started, but you were suspicious it had something to do with the fact that he had laughed in your face after you started crying over a failed grade. You were a perfectionist and worked hard for everything in life; failing at something felt like you were the biggest failure, and you did not appreciate Yunho’s cheery disposition as he told you that the world wouldn’t end if you weren’t good at everything. He wouldn’t get it, he barely cared about anything, he was nonchalant and allowed life to take him to whatever places. You weren’t like that and you hated the envy that consumed your veins when you watched how carefree he was, with how much ease he navigated his life. Happiness was a feeling everyone chased—yearned to feel—and it had never sat well with you that Yunho just so easily achieved it. There was no way he could be that happy all the time, always smiling and laughing, joking with everyone and making others laugh—something wasn’t right about him, and you hated him for it. You sighed before you took another sip of your wine, looking at Yeri as she sneakily pushed her mushrooms filled with cheese on your plate. Soonyoung and her had been dating for the longest, and yet, Soonyoung still hadn’t memorized the fact that Yeri hated mushrooms and carrots.

Once you were done with dinner, you weren’t surprised to find the boys proposing ridiculous games to play as the girls tried to do damage control. You’ve had a long day and you were sure everyone would want to head to bed earlier today compared to yesterday. Your morning was quiet, much to your surprise, Yunho had respected all of your rules and even aired the bathroom after using it. By the time you had come back inside your shared room, he was gone, the scent of his cologne strong as the pleasant breeze brushed inside through the open terrace door. He had also kept to his side of the bed, and you had woken up during the night because you had to pee, finding him clutching a pillow to his chest as he intangibly muttered to himself, his cheeks puffy and hair mused up. Before you could stare at him and become creepy, you went to the bathroom and groaned as you realized Yunho looked adorable. You spent the rest of your day out on the beach, enjoying the warm weather and the refreshing water. Then you had gone to town and hit up pubs and some stores before you returned to your beach house, everyone prettying up so you’d head out at night to have some fun. Getting ready with Yunho was rather domestic and left you feeling weird as you shared a mirror in the bathroom, you doing your makeup and him shaving. No words were exchanged as you were both focused, but you couldn’t help but stare at Yunho from time to time. He’d smile at you softly before finishing up, even asking you questions about what moisturizer he should use to soothe his face after shaving.

It felt oddly normal, right, even, which messed with your head and heart since you hated Jeong Yunho more than anything on this Earth. And now, forced to partake in a game that made no sense, you could feel your heart racing as your arm brushed against Yunho’s, your naked skins hot against each other. Nobody wanted to do the dishes since there were many, so the boys had decided that the slowest couple that would reach the finish line with their ankles tied together would be the ones doing the dishes. It was stupid—and hilarious at the same time—but you refused to admit it when you realized just how excited Yunho was over this stupid idea. And even like that, you couldn’t hide your competitiveness as you focused on the red ribbon tied to a little stick Jongho had pressed into the sand. The moon was above the ocean, shining its calming light over the water and your friend group, as the porch light didn’t reach this far. Your flashlights from your phones helped with better lighting as you made sure you weren’t stepping on crabs, seashells, any small rocks or anything else that could cut your bare feet. You felt goosebumps erupt on your exposed arms due to the chilly breeze, having to grip your long skirt as you were afraid it would get in the way of your success. You raised it above your knees as you stared ahead, tsking when you felt Yunho tugging on your ankle.

“Sorry.” He muttered, looking down at you as Yeri screamed as she and Soonyoung finally passed the finish line. Jihyo was laughing loudly as she showed them the time, the slowest couple so far, and Jongho cheered with malice as he was draped over Yeosang’s back, the couple currently in first place. You chuckled as you watched the two men, their cheeks flushed from the cocktails they’d been having throughout the night, and you jumped when you felt Yunho tenderly pat your wrist, “We are up next.”

Right, it was your turn. You bit your lower lip and clumsily hopped to the start line, feeling perspiration break out on your forehead despite the colder weather. Your heart was racing in anticipation and adrenaline as you realized you and Yunho might not make it to the finish line without faceplanting since you both seemed to be klutzy about this.

“Ready?” Jongho asked, his words slightly slurred, and you wondered how he and Yeosang finished so quickly without tumbling even once, “Start!”

Jeonghan’s loud clap made you jump even though you knew it was coming, and your eyes widened when you felt your tied ankle being dragged by Yunho as he took twice the length of a footstep you would’ve called normal. You yelped as you realized Yunho was practically dragging you after himself, your left hand curling into his bicep as you felt him hold you by the waist to stabilize you when he felt you stagger.

“Come on!” Yunho called out, looking down at you with dark eyes, determined not to lose this. You huffed but had to agree with him; you were not going to wash the monstrous amount of dishes in the kitchen, so you locked in, “That’s it! One—two—three—”

And Yunho continued to count as your steps synched up, finding the perfect rhythm as you were suddenly power walking down the sand, headed for the finish line. You didn’t even realise it at first, but you had started laughing at some point, as did Yunho, who started giggling, jarred on by the booing and cheering of your friends. Jeonghan tried to sabotage you by throwing a pebble in front of you, making Jihyo chastise him for it, but thanks to the long strides Yunho was forcing you to take—not everyone had legs for days like him—you thankfully missed hurting your foot.

“Come on, Y/N, Yunho!” Yeosang cheered you on as he watched the timer in his hands. His face lit up with excitement as he started jumping up and down, “Oh my God! They are going to beat our time, Joong—”

“Bullshit!” Jongho called loudly just as you crossed the finish line, making you cheer loudly as your chest moved up and down quickly as you tried to catch your breath, your heart racing in your chest. Yunho seemed to be glowing under the moonlight, his hair tussled by the wind and the top buttons of his shirt undone and exposing his collarbones and a wink of his chest and—shit, Yunho was gorgeous, and you weren’t laughing anymore as you had stopped to stare at his breathtaking smile.

Someone screamed in delight and you flinched, turning your head in time to watch Jongho falling to the ground dramatically as Yeosang grinned, “You two beat our time! You are in the first place!”

A gasp left your lips, and forgetting your ankle was still tied to Yunho’s, you made to jump up, only to be violently brought back down to the earth by the rope. You gasped again, more in fright, as you felt your right leg give out underneath you, but before you could hit the sand or, worse, sprain your ankle, you felt a strong hand wrap around your left bicep, holding you up. Long fingers pressed into your skin as you found anchor in Yunho’s wrist with your right hand, your own fingers curling into his skin painfully. Your heart was racing as you stared up at Yunho, who looked concerned until his eyebrows furrowed. You winced as you felt your skin burning under his grip, and the two of you released each other at the same time. As Seulgi came to help you untie the rope around your ankles, you dared to glance at your bicep, only to find it bruising into a dark spot right where Yunho’s fingertips had dug into your skin. You gulped nervously, something like dread filling the pit of your stomach as you watched Yunho rub his wrist, chewing on his bottom lip as his skin was blooming with black bruise marks as well.

No, this couldn’t be it. He couldn’t be the one. Anyone but Jeong Yunho, please, Universe.

            The second your eyes flew open the next morning, you had one thought and one only in your mind. Check the bruising. If it was gone by now, you almost had a panic attack over nothing last night. If it was still there, then you’d never want to see Jeong Yunho ever again. You exhaled slowly as you gulped, turning your head to the left to check whether Yunho was still asleep or not. He was softly snoring, facing you as his arm was draped over the pillows you had placed between the two of you, and you came to the alarming realization that the hand which was resting over your stomach was brushing against Yunho’s warm skin. Your fingers seemed to be lazily intertwined and your cheeks burned in both shame and anger as you slowly pulled your hand back, staring up at the ceiling. You were leaving back home in just a few hours, and you hoped the moment you’d unlock your front door would come sooner. Sure, seeing your friends was everything you needed, but possibly being Jeong Yunho’s soulmate was everything you didn’t need.

Taking a quiet, deep breath, you slowly sat up, trying to keep the rustling of sheets minimal so as not to wake Yunho. Then, you said a quiet prayer and dared a peek at your left bicep—only for your world to come crashing down. Your body froze, your limbs going numb as you gaped at your pink and blueish skin, Yunho’s fingertips forever etched into your skin. It was there, nothing could take it away or modify it. The mark left by Yunho was permanent. And he was your soulmate, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Your heart started racing as you swiftly got out of bed, forgetting about Yunho’s presence as you felt tears gather in your eyes. Yunho was an amazing man, you’d be dumb to deny that fact, but you’ve spent your whole life hating him ever since you had gotten to know him. Why did it have to be him? And how come it took you two so long to figure it out? To find each other? You realized it was because you had never touched before, not like this, at least. Yunho knew you hated physical closeness, and unless a game or circumstance forced you together, you couldn’t remember a time when he willingly hovered over you or touched you.

You exhaled a shuddering breath as you continued pacing in your room, still dark inside since Yunho had drawn the blackout curtains together after you complained last morning about the sun falling on your face and waking you up unnecessarily early. You didn’t notice Yunho stirring awake as you bit through your nails, destroying the pretty manicure your friend had given you, and you could swear you still felt Yunho’s firm grip on your skin, his palm warm and smooth, gentle despite the way he held you up. Twisting your arm and looking down at the colourful bruise once again, you wished it would’ve stayed black…then your soul wouldn’t be tied to Jeong Yunho’s. Movement in your peripheral made you freeze again, body tense as you turned around to face Yunho. He had sat up in the bed, hair tousled in all directions, his cheeks chubby and flushed, his eyes puffy, and his lips swollen as he rubbed a large hand over his face, sighing loudly as he leaned against the headboard. It seemed like he hadn’t noticed your distress yet, and you chewed on your bottom lip, instinctively hiding the mark he had left on your bicep last night.

It took him a few more seconds of staring at you to notice the way your fingernails dug into your skin, and his eyes widened minusculely, gulping loudly as his eyes slowly travelled to his right wrist. You didn’t have to look at his skin to know, his quiet gasp was enough to tell you that, yes, this wasn’t a dream nor a sick joke. You and Yunho were soulmates.

“Y/N.” His voice was deep and laced with sleep as he scrambled forward on the bed, his legs getting tangled in the sheets, and something tugged at your heart. God, you hated this. You hated that Seulgi and Yeosang had been right about finding your soulmate…once they were yours, there was no going back, no blissful ignorance, no freedom whatsoever as all you wanted to do was curl up in Yunho’s lap and inhale his strong cologne, run your fingers through his hair and feel his bodily heat, “I’m—we are—”

“I’m hungry.” Was all you said as you grabbed your hoodie—it was Yunho’s, but in your haste to leave, you failed to notice. And then, you were out the door before Yunho could say anything else, his mouth open and his heart racing as he watched you slip away with thundering footsteps. Just how would he mend your already rocky bond?

            Going radio silent on all of your friends was nasty of you, but you needed space and peace. You needed air to clear your thoughts, and you certainly didn’t need a second person’s opinion trying to convince you that finding your soulmate was the best thing in the world. So, what if it was? What if you didn’t want to have a soulmate? Who were you kidding? You’ve always wondered who it’d be and what they’d be like, but now that you knew, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Despite the warm day you had ahead of yourself, you wore a long-sleeved blouse to work, getting curious glances from your co-workers. It was cold in the mornings, so you had grabbed the hoodie you had worn to sleep last night after wearing it the whole day, only to realise in horror that it was Yunho’s and that you had taken it at the vacation house right in front of him. Everything felt mortifying today, even brewing your coffee in the late afternoon, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the visceral reaction you had when someone knocked on your door, and you opened it without checking the peephole first.

Your hands trembled as your grip tightened around the door handle, eyes drinking in Yunho’s tall form as he stood outside your doorstep, smiling sheepishly. His shorts reached just below his knees, a white t-shirt tucked inside with a brown belt hooked around his hips, the colour matching his Vans. Your heart stopped beating when your eyes fell on the flowers in his right hand, the bruise bright and obvious against his pale skin. You gulped, nervous, angry, and unsure at the same time as you stepped back, opening the door wider to let Yunho inside.

“Hi.” His tone was tentative as if he didn’t know how to approach you, and you felt like an asshole that Yunho had to tiptoe around you. He had no idea what attitude you’d have towards him now, and you couldn’t blame him. You’ve always made it obvious that you didn’t like him, and despite his efforts to get on your good side, he only managed to piss you off more each time.

“Hi.” You greeted back, tone impassive as he followed you to your kitchen after he left his shoes in the doorway. He was nervously fidgeting with his fingers, rubbing his chin, and you could see the beginning of a stubble growing out. You faced Yunho, the counter between your bodies as you eyed the flowers in his hand, quirking an eyebrow. Yunho blushed, then chuckled awkwardly before he placed the flowers on the counter, pushing them tentatively towards you.

“These are for you.” He said quietly, avoiding eye contact as you reached your hand out to take the flowers. Your hands brushed together accidentally, and you felt electricity coursing through your fingers. Yunho’s head snapped up as his eyes widened, and you knew he had felt it, too. You sighed, leaning against the counter in defeat as you grabbed the flowers, looking down at them with a tired smile.

“Thank you, this is a sweet gesture.” You muttered, tracing the petals as you heard a surprised sound leaving Yunho’s mouth. You chuckled, looking up at him in defeat, “I’m sorry for the way I reacted yesterday. I was…in shock.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Yunho shrugged, pulling out a stool to sit on. You grabbed a vase and filled it with water as Yunho watched you tinker around in your kitchen, placing the pretty flowers in the vase, “How are you feeling now?”

You chuckled humourlessly, “I’m still shocked, but I’m not in denial anymore.”

“Yeah, that’s good.” Yunho averted his eyes, tracing the pattern of the marble of your countertop, “Is it…so horrible that I am your soulmate?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt a lump in your throat. Gone was the happy and assured Yunho, replaced with someone sad-sounding and sceptical, “What? No, I just—I’m a horrible person. I’m sorry for making you feel unwanted, Yunho. I just…I spent my whole life ignoring you and disliking you, and now we’re…supposed to spend our lives together, it’s just so weird.”

You could’ve worded that better, and you only realized that when Yunho flinched, avoiding eye contact, “Wait! I—fine, I might as well be honest now. I was put off by your confidence at first; I didn’t understand how one could smile so much, laugh all the time and have no hardships. Then, as our friend group grew closer together, I realized it’s just who you were. A happy, cheerful, positive person with a bright outlook on life, and I just—that was so foreign to me. I thought you were fake for never showing how you truly felt, for smiling even when you were sad or angry. I realise it sounds really shitty of me now that I’m saying it out loud, but I genuinely don’t hate you, Yunho. I just find you…enigmatic?”

You didn’t expect Yunho to smile, but then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised that it was his first reaction. He chuckled and lowered his head, eyebrows furrowed before he looked up into your eyes, “I hope you’ll learn to be less grumpy by my side, then, Y/N, I can’t have you chasing the sunshine away.”

“You are the sunshine.” You slapped a hand over your mouth in terror when you realized you had said that out loud, making Yunho’s head fall back as he started laughing loudly. God, this was so utterly embarrassing. Were you always so cringy?

“That was rather sweet of you, thank you.” He said once he had calmed down, a faint blush painting his cheeks, “It’s a little hilarious you literally hate me for being a cheerful person, but I get it…I suppose. We are different in many ways, but you know what they say…opposites attract.”

“Right, that.” You muttered under your breath, pursing your lips, “What now?”

“Well,” Yunho seemed to think for a second, his forehead lightly creasing as he hummed lowly, “I say we slowly get to know each other.”

“But we already know each other.” You quickly said, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Yes, but you have a prejudice over me, and I also have my own beliefs about your personality, so…I say we take it from zero and rediscover each other. If that’s alright with you.” As an afterthought, Yunho added with a mutter, “After all, there’s plenty of ways we don’t know each other yet.”

Your cheeks flushed as your mind conjured up an image of Yunho you’d rather not fantasize about while the man was right in front of you, so you cleared your throat and squared your shoulders, trying to look serious despite the knowing glint in Yunho’s eyes with which he was looking at you, “Right, sure. That sounds…okay, I can work with that.”

Yunho stood, grinning widely at you, “Can I hug you, then?”

You gnawed on your bottom lip for a second before you nodded, walking around the counter to approach Yunho. He was beaming at you as he opened his arms, and your heart lurched all the way up into your throat before it settled into a frenzied rhythm, making you almost stagger into your soulmate. Yunho’s t-shirt was soft as your cheek landed on his shoulder, nose faintly brushing against the warm skin of his neck, and your eyes fluttered closed when Yunho’s arms secured around you, pulling you flush against himself. You exhaled quietly and circled his waist, feeling your cheeks burn as Yunho hummed in contentment, nuzzling his nose against the top of your head. He held you firmly like he knew you had all the time in the world, and you’ve never felt as safe as in this moment. Your muscles were lax, your mind quiet as you lost yourself in Yunho’s warmth and familiar cologne, cheeks burning brighter when you remembered that you hadn’t stopped wearing his hoodie ever since you accidentally took it. Thank the Universe you had changed out of it when you got home, or else you’d be beyond embarrassed about it.

“Oh, I cannot wait to get used to this,” Yunho whispered into the crown of your head, and you swore you felt your legs turn into a puddle as you turned your head into his neck, trying to refrain from giggling as you bit your bottom lip. You didn’t fight the feeling and pressed a swift kiss against his pulse point, making Yunho’s arms tighten around your torso. You would’ve never thought you’d do a one-eighty when it came to Yunho, but as your soulmate mark buzzed with warmth and electricity, you realized you were safe and looking ahead to a bright future.

Quite literally, since your soulmate was like the sun.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY & BVIDZSOO 2025 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating our work is not allowed.

[goorgeousz]

hotch has feelings for you and decides to deal with it (going to a psychiatrist)

drabble

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader

content/tw: none i think?

a/n: a drabble no one asked for… yet, here i am. idek what is this… anyways… THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS 😭❤️ i’m soooo happy sending much love to each and every one of you MWAH MWAH MWAH

dividers by @uzmacchiato

masterlist

“What brings you here today, Mr. Hotchner?” the psychiatrist asks, adjusting her large glasses up on her nose.

Hotch shifts on his seat, a frown forming on his features. The first thing that comes to his mind at that question is you. Your laugh, your glistening eyes, your smart mouth, your legs…

“I’m having a… problem. And I need it fixed.” his mouth barely moved. The psychiatrist stifled a sigh. He’s that kind of patient. Those who want instant solutions to many-decades old problems without giving a hint of what it’s about. Every professional’s personal favorite.

“Okay, then.” she hoped she sounded more excited than she felt “Why don’t we start with symptoms?” he nodded – yes, he could do that – “Are you having trouble breathing?”

“Sometimes.” she nodded, writing it down. It was a start, since there was nothing on his physical exams – which he brought on a fold, all labeled and laminated.

“How is your sleep schedule?”

“Not ideal.”

“Is this a regular thing or do you think your… problem… is causing that?”

“Both.”

The woman nodded, pressing her lips together and scribbling harder on her paper. Aaron fought the urge to ask what she was writing.

“How are your eating habits?”

“Fine. I’m eating less. I'm getting nauseous often.”

“Really?” she leans in, trying to hold onto every piece of information. He scratched the back of his head, not enjoying the attention.

“Yes. It’s affecting my work.”

“Why do you feel that?” she tilts her head to her side, and it takes all of his strength not to snap at her.

“Because it is. I’m getting slower. She’s frequently on my way.”

“She?”

“My coworker. She’s the problem.”

The woman nodded, trying not to sound too relieved to finally get some advance.

“So you’re having problems with a coworker.”

“That’s what I said, yes.” he muttered, trying once again not to be rude.

“Do you feel threatened by her?”

“No.”

“Does she disrespect you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you feel angry at her?”

“I’m stressed.”

“Do you feel like getting violent towards her?”

“No, what do you think…” 

She raises a hand, interrupting him “Mr. Hotchner, I’m just trying to understand the root of the problem. I’m not her to judge you, I just need to get you diagnosed.”

He nodded, sighing loudly.

“So, you feel stressed, you don’t feel angry or violent. Can you specify the problem you’re having with her?”

“I’m having work-inappropriate problems.” he manages, his voice barely hearable.

“Mhm.” the psychiatrist hums “And she’s your subordinate?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think about being inappropriate with her?”

He keeps silent, looking everywhere but the woman before him “Yes.”

“Do you feel like using your position as her superior to get her to perform those inappropriate scenarios?”

Hotch frowns “Absolutely not. Everything we ever did was completely consensual.”

“Oh.” her eyes widened at that “So you have a relationship with your coworker. Are you having relationship problems?” “No. We’re not in a relationship, and I’m having problems.”

“You’re having problems with not being in a relationship with her?”

“No. We can’t have a relationship, that’s inappropriate.”

“So what happened between you…”

“It never happened in a work scenario.”

“It happened more than once?”

“Many times. Never in front of other people, especially at work.”

“So you have a casual relationship with her, and no one in your work knows.”

“Again, not a relationship,” he pointed out.

“Understood. So back to those problems you’re having. Trouble sleeping and eating, sometimes breathing. Do you get any other physical symptoms?”

“Sometimes trembling, heart palpitations and occasionally gastrointestinal distress.”

“And tell me, Mr. Hotchner, do any situations trigger those symptoms?”

His mind instantly flooded with images of you.

“She does.”

“She makes you feel like that? She’s causing all of those problems?”

“Exactly.”

The psychiatrist started to smile, her posture more easy going now, which didn’t sit right with Hotch.

“Do you feel stressed when she’s not around?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And nauseous when thinking about or seeing her interacting with any other men?”

“Yes.”

“Does the trouble sleeping have anything to do with you thinking about her?”

“Yes, doctor. That’s exactly what I said.” he sounded incredibly impatient.

She laughed, the sound making him want to stand up and walk out without looking back.

“Something funny?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner. Can we talk more about those feelings?”

“Doctor, with all due respect.” he started, buttoning up his suit as if he was ready to stand. “I’m not here to talk about my feelings. I’m currently under a lot of stress, which is leading to a mental disorientation and it’s causing me physical symptoms. And I came here because I need something to help me.”

“I’m afraid no medicine will help you with that, Mr. Hotchner.” and before his already blushed face could explode like a cartoon scene, the professional explained with a large smile and glistening eyes “You’re in love with her.”

[salthusiast]

Violent Love Language

No Goggles Mark x GDA Agent Female Reader

Summary: After being sent on a quick mission by Cecil, you catch the attention of one of the variants.

Word Count: 6.4k

Invincible Masterlist

Warnings: Violence and blood. Also death (nobody important don’t worry).

“What is going on?!” You hear Cecil’s voice appear behind you. He must really like that teleporter. 

“It appears that multiple versions of Invincible have entered our dimension.” You say, clearing your stack of papers. You know Cecil is going to make you work for that paycheck today.

“No shit, many are we talking?” He asks.

“Sixteen, sir.” You reply, attempting to pull up any cameras you can access on your computer. You pull up the ones from the prison and see some weird Mohawk version of Invincible.

“Huh, well, that’s not what I expected.” You blink, taken aback briefly by the difference.

“It doesn’t matter what he looks like. We need to figure out how to stop them. Get every superhero on the planet out there.” Cecil commands.

You nod, getting ready to notify all the teams Cecil has at his disposal, which is a lot.

“Donald, come with me,” Cecil says, walking toward the door before pausing at the door and calling your name. 

You whip your head toward him, confused if you heard him correctly, “Yes, you come too.” He snaps.

You don’t want to piss him off more than he already is. You can’t imagine that dealing with a crisis like this is very fun. You’re stressed out with your current position, so you can’t imagine being the GDA director. 

“Everybody else, make sure that at least some heroes are trying to stop every single Invincible,” Cecil calls out before turning back toward the door, you and Donald following suit.

“I called you for a special mission. I tried to keep it on the down low as much as possible. However, with current circumstances, I need a favor.” The three of you continue to walk down the hallway. 

You start to feel a little anxious, “Whatever you need, sir. Will it be dangerous?” You ask.

He doesn’t immediately respond, “Usually no, but right now potentially.” He sighs. “I am trusting you with this job. It could potentially save millions of lives if you’re successful.”

Geez, no pressure. You feel yourself start to sweat, “If it saves lives, it is worth it. What is it you need me to do, sir?” You ask.

Cecil brings you to a new room, “You’re going to be looking for a black suitcase. In that suitcase, there will be about twenty small devices in there. They’re experimental, but hypothetically, they should be useful in dealing with Viltrumites. They’re portable versions of the chips that we implanted into Mark. They have a working radius of around fifty miles out.” 

You gape at him; you can't help but feel bad for Mark. You don’t know him personally, but he seems to be a good person. Cecil had made these intending to stop this dimension’s Mark, not other ones.

“Judge all you want about it, but it’s our best hope,” Cecil says, grabbing a watch-looking device. You recognize it immediately.

“Sir, where exactly is this located?” You ask, putting on the device.

Cecil looks at you solemnly, “Guardians HQ. If you’re lucky, you can find it and be in and out in five minutes. However, realistically, you’re going to have to pass all the security checks, which require everybody here to approve.” He sighs.

“I won’t lie, kid. There’s a large chance one of these Invincible variants will be there. If that’s the case, we’ll try and get you out of there. We’ll be monitoring from here.” Cecil gestures between himself and Donald.

You nod, “Yeah,” You take a deep breath, “Okay. Wait, so I get to use the teleporter?” You ask, feeling a little excited.

“Yes, you should just be going there and back,” Cecil explains, motioning for Donald to get everything ready.

“This isn’t coming out of my paycheck right…” You admire the watch. It looks simple, but you know this is very expensive. Cecil stares at you unamused. 

“Uh, okay, I’m ready. How does this— OH MY GOODNESS-” You feel yourself stumble as you land in Guardians HQ.

“Woah…” You look around, you haven’t been here before, not being a superhero. “Damn, really wish he gave me some idea of where it could be.” You mumble to yourself.

You look around the vast room, noticing a large desk. “Guess I’ll start here.” You rummage around briefly, not seeing anything catch your eye.

You spend the next ten minutes just trying to find the suitcase. Was Cecil trying to get you killed? He could’ve at least pointed you in the right direction.

Eventually, you find a door; there isn’t anything special about it. You go to see if you can open it. You try to twist the handle, failing miserably. “Oh, come on.” You groan.

You look at the screen on the door handle’s keypad, which requires higher security access. 

You turn around the room, “Uhh, if you guys can hear me, could you maybe unlock the door?” You point at it, feeling stupid.

Suddenly, a loud crash resonates in the room. You immediately try to find cover, but you’re standing out in the open. 

“Ah damn, I thought they’d be here.” You hear Invincible say, but you know it’s not the one you know. 

You slowly try and inch away out of sight. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he won’t see you?

“Cecil, I know you’re watching.” Not Mark announces in a sing-song tone. “Here! Let me get rid of all these cameras for you.” 

You watch as this Mark variant destroys every camera. Damn, you were relying on those. 

You try and see if there are any differences between this Mark and the one you know. He seems to have the older costume. Other than that, there doesn’t appear to be any differences in it. 

You squint, trying to see. Oh, no goggles, that's a choice.

Just as you try and find a spot to cover, you hear him laugh loudly, “Oh, ho! Look who we have here!” He calls your name out. You stiffen. How does he know you?

“It really is you! Damn, I started to actually miss you. I killed you in my world, you were a reallll challenge.” He floats just above you. You feel a little pathetic crouched down beneath him.

“Is that so?” You counter, feigning confidence. Cecil, where are you? You take a quick glance at the watch, hoping it'll activate, but it doesn't.

“Oh yeah, for sure! I was so sad when I killed you. I got you to scream for hours. You lasted so long. It was soooo cool.” He gestures excitedly. You nod as if interested. Keep him busy, somebody’s gotta come eventually.

“How nice.” You reply sarcastically. Not Mark nods enthusiastically, not noticing the sarcasm.

I still remember what you sounded like. “God, I can’t believe I get a second opportunity to do it.” He lands right in front of you.

“Woah, uh, maybe take a step back.” You step back, creating distance. You feel unnerved by the wide grin on his face.

“Oooh, setting up the match, huh? We’re getting serious. Okay, okay, I’ll play along!” He gets into a fighting stance. You stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

“For somebody who seemed to enjoy torturing me so much, I’m surprised I’m only the second version to have the honor to fight you.” You can feel yourself start to sweat. You are running out of ways to stall him.

“I know. I mean, I wanted to conquer other dimensions,” He waves a hand casually, “but this is fun too.”

You see a shift in the lighting above. You subtly glance up, finally somebody’s here. You can’t tell who it is, but you can see it’s not an Invincible. 

“Hmm.. yes, fun.” You reply uninterested. “You know what else is fun?” You ask, moving closer.

He starts to grin wider, getting into a more serious position, “What?”

You push him down the stairs, catching him off guard. You got lucky there. If he wanted to resist that, he definitely could’ve. You see the Guardians descend from the ceiling, restraining him.

You look towards the open door, which was locked earlier. You run towards it.

“Hey! AGH!” You hear him get hit. “DUDE IT WAS A ONE V ONE! RESPECT THE MATCH!” You hear him yell across the room. Ha.

You grab the suitcase waiting in the room, watching as the Guardians attempt to knock him unconscious. 

You frown, “You guys need him alive or something?” You ask, watching them beat down on Not Mark.

“Yeah, Cecil thinks he’s our best shot at getting answers.” You hear Darkwing reply. You nod, “Alright then. Not my business.” You start to walk away, “Wait, before I leave, can I do something?"

All the Guardians look at each other, “Sorry, it’ll just take a moment.” You set the suitcase down, taking a heel off your foot. 

You throw it as hard as you can at Not Mark, hitting him dead in the eye. “Hey! What’d you do that for?!” He frowns pettishly.

You grab the suitcase, picking it up again. You adjust yourself before looking him dead in the eye with a straight face, “Fun.” 

You turn around to walk away from the Guardians, feeling the odd sensation of being teleported once again.

All the Guardians watch, flabbergasted. “She’s got guts.” Darkwing breaks it, amused. Immortal nods, “Let’s just knock this guy out. There’s still more out there.” 

Not Mark remains on the floor, awestruck. How did this human come in here, trick him into an ambush, and then have the audacity to hit him? His eyes linger on where you teleported away. 

It was at this moment that he decided he would meet you again.

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

“That was a bold move, kid.” You hear Cecil’s voice. You look up, still nauseous from the teleportation, and his arms are crossed.

“He killed another version of me.” You justify, handing him the suitcase. “Even if I don’t have super strength to beat him up, I wanted to at least hit him for what he did. I would’ve slapped him, but I’m not stupid enough to go into neck snapping range.”

“Whatever," He sighs, "it’s done now. We’ll try and send these out with some teams. They should at least reduce the damage that could be done.” Cecil says, opening the suitcases. He grabs one of the devices.

“What about Mark, sir?” Donald asks, frowning. 

“If you can get in contact with him, tell him to get off the planet. Otherwise, it’s a small price to pay for the greater good. He’ll recover, humanity may not.” Cecil replies. Donald nods and goes back to typing.

Cecil turns toward you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Good work, kid. Sorry that you had to deal with that.”

You shrug, “It’s okay, he didn’t actually get the chance to do anything.” You reply. “What are you planning on doing with him? Are you sure you can restrain him?” You ask, frowning.

“We’re planning on implanting the same chip that Mark had into him. Don’t worry, we have a plan for what to do with him. We might be able to extract some answers out of him eventually.” Cecil sighs. “I don’t even know if we’ll be able to rehabilitate him.” He shakes his head. 

You know this is what Cecil does. While you may find some moral issues in using villains, you know this is how he works. There’s nothing you can do to change that.

You nod, “It’s worth a shot, sir.” You reply. “If we can have two Invincibles out there, that’d be a huge advantage.” 

“Yeah, that’s if he will change. These variants seem pretty set in their ways.” Cecil watches Donald work. “One step at a time. We need to get answers out of him first.” 

You nod, “Probably a good idea.” 

Cecil turns back to you before dismissing you back to your desk, “Thank you for your help.”

You nod, “Of course, sir. Call me anytime.”

—

“You sure he won’t wake up?” Darkwing asks, looking nervously at the body of the unconscious Invincible slung over Immortal’s back.

Duplikate walks up next to them, “I doubt it. If he does, Cecil told us he has a backup. We can also knock him out again.”

“We were lucky. If he wasn’t caught off guard, then we would not have knocked him out. He would’ve killed us all.” Darkwing responds solemnly.

Immortal slides the variant into the special cell that Cecil told them to put him in.

“Thank you, Guardians.” A scientist comes up to them, locking the special prison cell. “You needn’t worry about him escaping. You are free to go.” He smiles. 

The Guardians nod before rushing out of the Pentagon. Cecil walks into the room. “Is he up yet?” He asks.

The scientist shakes his head, “No, sir. We expect he’ll wake up in the next few minutes, though.” He taps his pen on the clipboard. 

“Good, all safety measures have been checked, yes?” Cecil asks. The scientist nods, “Yes, sir. He will not be escaping.” He responds. The two watch as the Invincible starts to stir.

“Agh, my head… Hey, where am I?” He looks around before making eye contact with Cecil. “You seriously think that I can’t escape this?” He sounds amused. He slowly stands up, walking up to the front of his cell. 

“Perhaps, but you will regret your attempts,” Cecil replies, his voice betraying nothing. 

The Invincible variant laughs, taking off his mask. “You had me knocked out, why not kill me?” He puts his finger through the mask and spins it.

“You aren’t in a position to be asking questions.” Cecil narrows his eyes.

The variant suddenly slams into the front of the cell where Cecil and the scientist stand. The scientist flinches back, but Cecil remains still.

“You truly think. I can’t kill you right now?” He laughs. “All it takes is— ARGH!!” He immediately falls down onto the ground, gripping his head. 

Cecil presses the button once again, cutting out the noise playing in the Invincible’s ear. “Like I said, you’re not in a position to be asking questions.” The variant looks up at him, the amused smile gone from his face.

"Now tell me why you’re here,” Cecil demands. 

The variant wipes the blood from his suit, “I’m not tellin’ you shit.” He smears the blood on his fingers to the ground. Suddenly, he says your name, the smile returning to his face.

“What?” Cecil asks, confused. “How do you know her?” He asks.

“Does it matter?” The variant rolls his eyes. “Where is she? I want to talk to her.”

“Sorry to say, we can’t do that.” Cecil didn’t sound very sorry.

The variant clicks his tongue, “Damn, guess you’re not getting a word out of me then.” He leans against the wall smugly.

“You can rot in this cell then,” Cecil replies.

The variant snaps and then does finger guns, “Oooh, so you see, that won’t work.” He laughs loudly. “I mean you’ll die eventually. I have centuries to escape, and trust me...” 

He leans towards the wall, placing his hands against it, “It will not take me a century to escape. You’re lucky if you last a week.” He pushes away from the wall, pacing in his room.

“Now, if you want answers. Bring her. It’s a win-win. I get the girl, you get your answers!” He grins widely, as if that’s a very fair deal.

Cecil sighs.

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

“Uh, what is it you need, sir?” You ask your boss over the phone. 

“It appears that the Invincible variant we captured refuses to answer any questions,” Cecil responds, annoyed, looking over toward the variant, who is grinning with two giant thumbs up.

“Okay..?” You respond, not liking where this is headed.

“I hate to involve you again, kid, but he will only answer questions if you are there,” Cecil replies exasperated.

You are frozen for a moment; this monster almost killed you. Why on Earth could he possibly want to talk to you?

“..Which cell is he in?” You eventually concede. You can hear Cecil sigh in relief. 

“Thank you, he’s in cell two hundred forty-three,” Cecil informs you. 

“I’ll be there in a minute.” You tell him before you hang up. 

You grab all your stuff and begin your long trek to the special prison Cecil has. It’s supposed to be able to withstand anything, but after seeing Omni-Man take a nuke, you aren’t certain.

You eventually get down to that level, and the security asks for your identification. You scan your card before walking in. You see Cecil and Donald standing at the end of the row.

You slowly approach, “There she is! I was wondering if you were gonna show!” You hear Not Mark (at this point, that’s his new name) call. 

“How long do I need to be here for?” You whisper to Cecil. 

“Long enough to figure out why they’re here and who sent them,” Cecil responds, matching your volume.

“You got your wish, now can you answer our questions?” Cecil asks, crossing his arms.

“Mmmm, I don’t know.” He looks at you and frowns. “I thought it was just gonna be me and her.” He looks disappointedly at Cecil.

You and Cecil share a look, you nod at each other, before he looks down shaking his head. “Everybody out! You get ten minutes with her, nothing more.” He states before the area clears out.

You shift uncomfortably, he is just watching you. He seems content just to stare at you. 

“What?” You ask, feeling scrutinized by his stare. He looks up at you, “You’re amazing.” He replies breathless.

You raise an eyebrow, “I’m amazing. After you told me that the other version of me you tortured was one of the best things you’ve done? Hate to break it to you, but I am just a normal person.” You cross your arms, looking at him. “I think you’ve noticed that already.”

He nods, “Of course I have. She was strong, sure, but you. You played me like a fool. When you hit me with that shoe at the end? Way to leave a guy with a cliffhanger.” He mockingly swoons.

You look at him unimpressed. “Very funny. Now we don’t have much time, so please just cooperate and answer these questions. It saves us both trouble.”

He nods enthusiastically, “Of course. What do you want to know?” He sits on the ground, criss cross, looking up at you like you hung the moon.

You ignore his gaze, “Why are you here?” You ask.

“Well… You see, I got into a fight with the Guardians. Oooh, I was so looking forward to actually fighting them. Instead, I met you.” He rests his elbows on his knees, holding his face with his hands.

“I was so enraptured by your presence that I got caught off guard.” He holds his hands out. “Now, I’m in prison.”

You look at him, glaring. “You know what I meant.”

He frowns, “Not big on jokes? We were chatting perfectly fine earlier.” He says to himself. You exhale annoyed.

“Sheesh, just playing! Okay, so this guy, right? He promised me the most fun dimensions for me to take over.” He shifts his weight onto his side. 

“What was his name?” You ask. 

“Angstrom Levy.” He says, and you freeze. “Oh, you’ve met?” He asks.

“Not personally, but I’ve heard stories.” You look down. “What exactly did he ask you all to do?” You ask.

“Eh, something about making everyone here fear Invincible. It seemed like he just wanted chaos, which I didn’t mind one bit.” He holds his hands up in surrender.

“How long are you guys meant to do this for?” You ask.

He shrugs, “Until he says stop, I guess.” 

“And when would that be?” You walk up closer to his cell. He stands up, meeting your gaze. His eyes glance down at your lips.

“I…” He stares at your face, “have no idea.”

You frown, “Helpful.”

“I try to be.” He grins.

You shake your head, rubbing your temples. This is way above your paygrade. “So, let me get this straight: Angstrom Levy brought over a dozen different versions of yourself,” He nods, “and he just told you guys to ‘cause chaos.” 

“Sounds about right.” He starts spinning his mask with his fingers again.

“And in return, he’d give you dimensions to conquer?” You frown.

“Yeeep.” 

“So you have no idea why he wants you guys to cause chaos?” You lean up against the cell. He leans against his cell, too, mirroring your action.

“To be honest, I didn’t particularly care.” He taps his finger against the cell. “But, I do know the me of this dimension did something to piss him off.”

You think back to the whole incident with the Mauler Twins and the other incident where Mark almost killed him. “Oh.” You respond.

“‘Oh?’” He quotes. “You gonna share with the class?” 

“I thought I was the one asking questions.” You look at him.

“And I answered! Come on, throw me a bone here, will you?” He grins at you, looking far more innocent than you know him to be.

You look at him unimpressed. 

“Please?! Come on. There’s nothing fun around here. You’re my only source of entertainment right now.” He leans against the wall dramatically.

“Glad to know I’m contributing to your lack of entertainment.” You respond, detached.

“Aha! There she is! I was wondering if you left all your personality back where we met.” He snaps his fingers and does finger guns at you.

You look at him blankly. “Cecil will be back any moment now.” You begin to walk away.

“Wait, wait!” He calls out, and you pause.

“Will you come and visit me?” He asks, giving you false puppy dog eyes. You know if he wasn’t in that cell, he’d probably kill you.

You scoff but find yourself smiling, “Why, so I can be a source of entertainment for you?” You ask, walking back to his cell. He walks up to where you are, and you both stare each other down.

“Perhaps.” He grins.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t look like you’re getting answers out of him.” Cecil walks in. You immediately distance yourself from the cell, breaking eye contact with Not Mark. He doesn’t move from where you two had your little staring competition.

“Forgive me, sir.” You look away from him, slightly embarrassed. “I did get answers, though.” You consciously ignore Not Mark, who is waving at you both to try and get your attention.

“We heard,” Cecil responds dryly, he does sound a bit amused though. He puts his hand on your shoulder, “Thanks for your assistance. Sorry we had to bring you out again for.. him.” You both turn to look at Not Mark, who grins innocently.

“Yeah, no problem.” You say, feeling as if it were very much a problem.

“Wait, Cecil, is she allowed to visit me?” Not Mark asks, butting into your conversation.

“That’s up to her.” Cecil says, at the same time you say, “It’s prohibited.”

You look at Cecil, distressed. “What? It pays to be in his good graces.” Cecil whispers to you.

“Yeah? What’s his good graces? Not breaking out and killing everyone?” You respond frustrated. Cecil raises an eyebrow before looking over at Not Mark. “Fair enough.” You sigh despondently.

“I can hear you two.” Not Mark comments helpfully.

You look at Cecil, and he nods. “You can head back now.”

You nod, “Thank you, sir.” You start to walk away, ignoring Not Mark’s cries of “Wait!” and “Don’t go!”

You walk past the security, giving a nod of acknowledgement. You walk into the elevator.

Once you arrive on the floor, you were supposed to be on (before all of that happened). You sit down at your desk, grabbing your stack of papers you threw aside earlier. 

“How are the Guardians doing, or all the teams for that matter?” You ask your coworker, Bryan, casually.

He groans. “We’ve already seen at least three be eliminated or seriously injured.”

“Teams? Like they killed off entire teams?” You ask, shocked.

He nods, “Yep. Down and out.” He types frantically on his keyboard.

“…Have we managed to kill any of the Invincibles at all?” You ask hesitantly, unsure if you want to know the answer. 

“At the moment? Four.” He responds.

“Oh, that’s more than I expected.” You look around the panicked room. Every person around you is frantically working. Crazy to think that not even 10 minutes ago you were talking to one of those Invincibles while everybody up here was stressing.

“Did you find out any valuable info from the one we captured?” Bryan asks.

“Not much. Levy sent him.” You start to log in to your computer.

“Levy? As in Angstrom Levy?” He asks, flabbergasted.

“Yep.” You pop your lips. “Turns out Mark didn’t kill him.” 

“From what I heard, there was no way anybody could survive that.” 

“Well, apparently he did. He wants revenge on Mark, I think.” You respond.

“Great, so he brought sixteen different Invincibles in order to kill our Invincible.” He sighs, pausing in his typing.

“Eh, basically. Apparently, they won’t stop causing damage until told to by Levy himself.” You tell him. “The captured one didn’t even know when that’d be.”

“Oh, so they could go on until they destroy the world?” Bryan laughs humorlessly.

“Yeah. I have no idea when—”

A loud crash resounds in the room. You and Bryan whip your heads around, looking at the giant hole in the ceiling. You look and see an Invincible floating over the rubble. 

You quickly glance at Bryan before you both scurry out of the room. You start to run out when…

“HOLY SHIT!” You hear him yell. You turn around to look at him, narrowly missing the body that was flung inches in front of your face.

You stare in horror, watching as employee after employee is murdered. You begin to run again. 

“Ugh damn it…” You frantically yank your heels off your feet. You run off to the exit. You, Bryan, and a few other coworkers manage to escape that room, but you can still hear the screams from where the crash was.

“Where is Cecil?!” Somebody asks. You shake your head. “Probably dealing with the other one we captured.” You groan. This Invincible is probably here to break that one out of prison.

“Let’s go, it’s safer in the halls than it is here.” You look at the remaining people, who nod. You start to run out again before the wall on your left explodes. 

“Other way, other way!” You yell, panicked. You push back against the remaining people. They start to head in the other direction. 

“Are all of you guys okay?” You ask. Out of the thirty of you in that room, seven (including you) made it.

“We should’ve just let him go.” You hear a coworker mumble, and everybody turns to look at them. “What? Am I wrong? This never would have happened if we didn’t keep that other one hostage.” You hear some murmurs of agreement.

“We don’t know that. The Pentagon might’ve been a target regardless of the Invincible we kept.” You frown, shaking your head. 

“Yeah? Well, we can’t be too sure, can we? How about we find out, huh?” The worker pushes past you all, heading back into the original room.

“What are they doing?” Bryan asks. You all watch as they run to their death.

Suddenly, static cuts in from the PA speakers: “Cell two hundred and forty-three is open.”

You all sit in silence for a bit before some people in your group begin to sob. 

The door the worker ran into earlier opens, and you all watch as a head rolls through the door. It is the head of that worker.

You all look up in horror. The Invincible variant crushes the head of the worker before looking up. 

You, being in the back, turn in the opposite direction. You think you’ll take your chances with random exploding walls over that. Bryan notices, and you motion him to be quiet, and duck so that the variant doesn’t see you two escape.

You both crouch, walking in the other direction. The group is still back there facing off against that Invincible. Do you feel bad for leaving them there? Yes, but you can’t dwell on it. It’s either all of you die, or some of you die. 

You don’t even hear the screams of them, just the wet slap of their bodies hitting the blood-soaked floor. You flinch, knowing that you two are now in plain view.

“Bryan, Bryan, we have to ru—” You turn to look at your friend, but pause in horror. The variant stabbed his hand right through him. You cup your hands up to your mouth, holding back a sob. You look at the variant before attempting to sprint away. You feel yourself get slammed into the wall, and you let out a soft “Oof!”

You look up in fear, the Invincible’s goggles block you from seeing his eyes. You can feel the tears roll down your face at this point. You don’t say anything, just stare at him silently as he raises his hand to strike you down.

Suddenly, you’re thrown to the ground, out of the Invincible’s grip. You look up.

“Dude, what are you doing here? God, you ruined my whole plan.” Not Mark pouts petulantly.

“I wasn’t aware you were here.” The other Mark replies.

“Well?” He does jazz hands. “I am! Now get out.” 

“Sure, whatever, just let me kill the human first. Angstrom said kill as many as possible.

Within an instant, Not Mark tackles the other one, sending a cloud of dust throughout the entire area. You cough, watching in both awe and horror. You attempt to stand up, but feel a sharp pain in your leg.

“Agh… shit.” You whimper, an action that seems to catch Not Mark’s attention. Within a millisecond, he’s in front of you, “Do you trust me?” He asks.

You blink at him, feeling the gust of wind from him speeding towards you. “Absolutely not!” You suck in air from the pain.

He grins, “Great.” He then grabs you bridal style before blasting into the air.

“OH MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You attempt to yell over the rushing wind. You feel yourself suffocating, unable to breathe with the high speed and rushing wind.

“Aw shit, forgot humans can’t breathe when I move this fast. You think you can last a little longer?” You hear him ask. You try and nod, but can barely move against the strong force. 

Eventually, you come to a stop, he places you down gently on the ground. “Do not move. Go inside that building, I’ll be back shortly.” He points to a relatively run down looking building.

“What?! Where did you drop me off-” You watch him speed off back into the sky. “Unbelievable!” You yell out to nobody. Who is going to believe this happened to you today? Nobody! 

“I’m not waiting here, asshole.” You grumble to yourself.

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

You sigh, waiting inside the building.

“How long is his definition of ‘shortly'? It’s been days.” You lean your elbows on your knees. 

Luckily, despite its run down appearance the place Not Mark dropped you off at has running water and food. 

It took you a while to actually try and consume any of it, but you decided that you didn’t want to die in the middle of nowhere. You’ll take your chances. Worst-case scenario, Cecil pays for your healthcare. He is the one who put you in this situation anyway.

Suddenly, the door gets thrown open. You jump back into the corner of the room you’re in. You hear Not Mark call your name.

“Hellooo? Anybody here?” You hear him approach you before looking directly at you. “There she is!” He walks up to you.

You grimace in disgust, looking at him. He’s covered from head to toe in blood. 

“What’s wrong?” He frowns. “Do I have something on my face?” He asks.

You look him up and down again, “Blood.” You respond disgustedly.

He blinks, confused, “You don’t like the blood? I thought you’d like it.” He looks at the ground as if trying to figure out a puzzle. “I’ll be right back.” He zooms out of the room, the door shutting itself behind him.

You look at the spot he was just at, unimpressed. Suddenly, the door opens again, and his suit is clean. You furrow your eyebrows, “How’d you clean it?” You ask.

“Flew to space and back. It comes off.” He mentions casually, as if that’s normal. “Anyway, ready to head home?” He grins, looking at you, holding his arms out ready to carry you. 

You look at him, suspicious.

He rolls his eyes, “Oh come onnnn. If I wanted to kill you, I could’ve done that way earlier.” He raises a hand and waves it back. At your horrified expression, he elaborates, “I mean like… You know what I mean. I don’t want you dead. I kinda went out of my way to make sure you didn’t die.” 

You nod, “Oh, yeah, okay… So I should just let you whisk me to who knows where.” You feign calmness.

“I mean, yeah.” He shrugs before grinning widely. “OOH, unless you want to give me your address.”

You stare at him, trying to discern whether he is serious. He stares back, smiling, looking like a dog begging for a treat. 

“No!”

“Worth a shot.” He sighs dejectedly. 

He carries you back, flying a lot slower this time, but still fast enough where you can’t bring yourself to talk in fear of choking on air or on a bug.

You feel him gaze at you a couple of times and pointedly ignore his stare. Suddenly, he pauses, slowing to a stop mid-air. “What’s wrong?” You ask, panic growing. 

You see him groan before throwing out some earpiece in his ear. “Oh, they didn’t take that out when you entered the Pentagon?”

“I don't know, I should be asking you that.” He leans down to your ear. “Hold on tight.” He whispers.

“What? OH MY—” You see him attack something. It explodes in the air. You both watch the debris fall onto the earth.

“What was that?” You ask, unsure if you want to know the answer. 

“Angstrom.” He says, pulling you closer before flying back where he was originally headed. 

You go the rest of the flight in silence. It wasn’t like you could talk if you wanted to. The wind made it difficult.

“Andddd we’re here. Wow, we really did a number on this place.” You look down, seeing half the Pentagon decimated. 

Out of nowhere, ReAnimen jump up into the sky. Not Mark drops you out of surprise. You feel yourself fall, closing your eyes and bracing for the impact. God, was this finally it? After everything you survived today?

A pair of arms catch you, and you open your eyes to see the singular red light of a ReAniman. You try to lean back away from the undead creature. You know they work for Cecil, but it doesn’t mean that you have to like them.

“Oh, good you’re alive. How’d you live?” Cecil asks. You feel yourself questioning for a moment if he is actually happy to see you alive. You turn toward Not Mark. He is fighting the ReAnimen. 

“Woahh, I never fought these guys in my world. They’re kinda fun.” He slams five of them using the body of one he already killed. “I killed you before you got the chance to create them, but man, Cecil. Good stuff.” He hovers over them.

“He saved me.” You tell Cecil, not exactly sounding enthusiastic.

He raises an eyebrow, “From the other one that came?” He asks, you nod.

“Hm…” He pauses, looking at the ground before pointing at you suddenly.

“What?” You whisper.

All the ReAnimen slowly turn their heads toward you. “Wait, Cecil, what are you doing?” You ask, panic growing. He looks at you coldly. “Cecil…” You try again.

Not Mark, noticing the lack of new opponents looks down. He spots you getting circled before he immediately dives in and lands right behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” He asks coldly. The grin on his face from the fight earlier is nowhere to be seen.

Cecil suddenly holds his hand up, and all the ReAnimen halt. “I see.” He says to himself. He says your name, “I apologize for my actions just now. I just had to…” He looks at Not Mark, “test something.” 

You look at Not Mark and then Cecil. “Please tell me you aren’t thinking what I’m thinking.” You look at Cecil in disbelief.

“What is it?” Not Mark asks right behind you. You step forward to create some distance between you two, and he steps forward to compensate.

“Say, how about you work for the GDA, Mark?” 

You and Not Mark both gape at Cecil before both of you simultaneously cry out:

“Are you SERIOUS?!”

“Oooh.” Not Mark laughs loudly. “Yeah, absolutely not. Why would I ever work for you?”

Cecil looks at you, his eyes seem sympathetic, yet unapologetic. “You can work with her.” 

So now here you are. Watching an evil version of Invincible shake hands with Cecil Stedman. The deciding factor? Getting to work with you. Truly, you’d feel flattered if it were anybody else.

“Soooo we’ll be in contact?” Not Mark grins at you, leaning into your personal space. You step away from him, but he follows.

“Kill yourself.” You deadpan. 

He smiles wider, and you know he heard it. “Now, is that how you talk to the person who saved your life? Oh, and your new coworker.” He removes his mask.

You feel your eye twitch. Is this seriously your life now?

“Why the long face?” He mocks your traumatized expression before breaking character and laughing loudly. “Come on, let’s get to work!” He floats up, flying in circles around you in the air like a hyperactive dog. 

“This is my life now.” You tell yourself, Not Mark nods because of course he heard you.

“Our life now.” He grins at you. 

You groan.

Quick A/N: Yes, yes, I'll get back to writing for Viltrumite Mark. Unless you guys want more of this. Either way Viltrumite Mark pt 3 is up next :D

[darkbluekies]

King Edmund, Jerry & Hedwig drabbles: darling feeling insecure in appearance

Yandere!king x fem reader, yandere!mafia x reader, yandere!richgirl x reader

Warnings: mentions of not liking how one looks, Edmund not saying nice things about other women

Silas & Dr Kry version

King Edmund:

You're the queen. You should be flawless, shouldn't you? Everyone wants Edmund, everyone wants to be in your position. Everyone's judging you, thinking that you're not worthy. The court gossip is always about you. Always your looks, your behaviour, your outfits. At some point, it's unavoidable.

You don't let anyone come into the bed chamber. You've barricated the door with an armchair, curled up in a corner to cry. Your dresses are ripped, your jewlery scattered all over the floor.

"This fucki—there we go", Edmund pants as he finally manages to force the door open. "What is going on in here? What have you done?"

The second he locates you and sees the tears on your cheeks, his face resets. Edmunnd runs over to your corner and sinks down in front of you. He takes your face in his hands.

"What's wrong?" he asks worriedly. "My jewel, what happened? Why are your dresses everywhere? And the diamonds?"

"I hate them", you sob through gritted teeth.

"The clothes? We can get new ones. Do you want new jewlery too?"

"Not those."

"Then what?"

"They ... they tell me I'm ugly."

His eyes narrow. "Who?"

"The ladies in court ..."

"Surely you don't listen to those hags?"

You break out into new sobs. Edmund stares at you, eyes full of fear. Fuck, you do. Not you. Not his darling. He holds your head in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

"I am King Edmund, right?" he asks. "Do you think I'd marry just anyone? Those bitches are idiots if they think I'd ever chose them. You, my beautiful girl, are all mine."

He holds you close to him, letting you cry.

"No one can even come close to you", he whispers. "i don't want you listening in on gossip, that's not what my girl does, right? My girl is perfect and doesn't listen to insecure bitches. Fuck, I love you so much, people like that rile me up."

He looks around at the room, at the ripped clothes.

"I will buy you a whole new wardrobe and new jewlery", he reassures you. "All the latest fashion from Paris. And you will show those sluts that you are the most beautiful girl in the entire world. They can shove their last year's fashion down their throats."

Jerry:

If you ever show any type of dislike towards your appearance, Jerry will be the first one to let you know that you're wrong.

"Listen to me", she says and sits you down on the bed. "If I hear you say that you're ugy one more time — and I mean just one more time — I will lose it. Do you know many times I look at your photos on my phone when I'm not home and wonder how in fuck's whole world I managed to get you?"

You shake your head. Jerry wipes your tears and hugs you tightly.

"There's nothing in this world that I like", she says. "Everyone I ever loved is gone. You are all I have left and do you know how happy I am that it is you that i have left? There are billions of people in this world, and yet it is you. I couldn't have asked for anyone else. You literally turn me on more than you can imagine. I am so fucking attracted to you I am embarrassed, it's pathetic. I have to force myself to keep my hands off of you, otherwise you'd never leave this bed."

You sob out a chuckle and she smiles sadly. Your sobs make her heart ache. She doesn't have the words to formulate just how badly she loves you, how perfects she finds you. Jerry grabs your jaw in her hand.

"Get those thoughts out of your head now, okay?" she says, caressing your cheeks and kissing you. "I don't want to hear you say that about yourself. That makes me sad."

"I'm sorry, Jerry."

She lays down in bed and pulls you to her, letting you rest on her chest. Her acrylic nails scratch at your scalp.

"Do you want to know a secret?" she whispers in your ear.

"What?" you whisper back.

"You should hear how much I talk about you during my job. My boss is sick of hearing about you all the time ... and so are all the others. But they don't dare say anything to me, do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because they see how happy you make me. They would protect you with their lives if they had to, just because of how important you are to me."

She wishes that you could see her the way she sees you, that way you would never doubt.

Hedwig:

Hedwig have invited her childhood friends over, all from wealthy families, for dinner. Most of them are aspiring models, just like her. You felt misplaced. They're beautiful. Hedwig should be with one of them, not with you.

She notices that you're no longer downstairs and goes looking for you, eventually finding you in her bedroom.

"Why are you crying?" she asks quickly, closing the door behind her before running over to you. "What happened, sweetheart?"

You don't answer at first, feeling ashamed. Was it jealousy? Insecurity?

"Please talk to me", she begs softly, putting her hands in your lap.

"Your friends ..."

"Did they say something mean to you?"

"No, they're nice, it's just ..."

Her voice is as soft as could be. "What?"

"They're very pretty."

"So are you."

You shake your head and look down. "Not like them."

Hedwig's shoulders fall. She takes your hands and leans in towards your ear.

"I think you're prettier than them", she whispers and pulls back to meet your eyes. "You are everything I dreamt of. When I was a child and played with my barbies, I dreamt of having a relationship like Barbie and Ken, and do you know what? I got something much better. I could never have imagined, not in my wildest dreams."

"You're so pretty, I'm scared someone would take you ..."

"Trust me, no one can take me from you. They'll have to kill me to get me to leave you, and then I'll come back as a ghost to still be with you. I will never, ever have anyone else. You are everything I could ever want. You are so unbelievably pretty, I have to pinch myself sometime to remind myself that this is real."

She kisses your lips and rests your head on her shoulder.

"How about we don't go downstairs anymore tonight?" she asks. "Let's call it a night and just stay here?"

"But your guests-"

"They know where the kitchen is and they can entertain themselves. You are more important to me."

[back2bluesidex]

We Need Practice - JJK (18+)

A Sequel to Novice.

Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Theme: Fluff, smut

Wordcount: 2.1k+

Summary: Jungkook wants you to ride him and you are too bad at that.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, messy cock riding, cumming all over body, they are down bad for each other, more fluff than I intended to have, confessions. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

Masterlist | Patreon

“Don’t judge a book by its cover” 

You have heard this phrase for thousands of times in your entire lifetime but you have hardly had any chance of actually implying the same in your life. 

But then you met Jungkook and you understood how true that one sentence can be. 

Jeon Jungkook is the text-book definition of what those cliched bad-boys or fuckboys would look like. 

With a hand full of tattoos, silver rings dangling from piercings, impressively structured body and a small waist that could rival female models, he really looks like someone who would be fucking people and putting on a show out of it. 

And that is exactly what he does. 

Pornstar Jeon Jungkook is actually very notorious. 

But Jeon Jungkook as a person is a completely different story. 

After that one encounter at that porn movie set, he asked for your number and you complied with his request thinking of he could give you some of the best fucks of your life (not that you have had many fucks to brag about in the first place). 

If you are being honest, then you never expected him to be the sweetheart that he actually is. Since the day you two exchanged numbers, he never once asked if he could come over during god-forbidden hours of night. He never once asked for your nude pictures, neither did he ever force you to meet him. 

Rather he sends you funny dog videos, funny tik tok clips and asks you how was your day. And you can’t lie about the fact that your heart has already started acting strange, like it flutters everytime Jungkook’s name glows on your dark phone screen. 

It’s been more than a month since you have been chatting regularly and now you are getting a little impatient. 

As much as you appreciate his good-boy vibes, you would like to see him again, touch him again. 

So you do what you have been thinking of doing for more than a week now. 

“Sleeping?” you hit send, praying to the universe that he doesn’t find you a desperate bitch for what you are going to do. 

The clock reads 2:15 am already, and just then his reply arrives, “nah. Can’t sleep. What about you?” 

“Me too. Can’t sleep.” 

You take a deep breath before typing the next message, “do you wanna hangout?” 

Just when you are about to add “at my place” to complete your proposition, his reply hits your screen, “Send me your address. And wear something warm before I ask you to come out.” 

Wait. is he? Taking you out? 

Even though you were trying to ask for sex but this option feels even better to be honest. 

So you send him your address and he texts you that he will be there within 10 minutes. Wearing your gray padding, you wait for him to arrive at your place. 

Another positive point about Jeon Jungkook is that he is punctual. You might even call him a green flag because your phone dings with a “I am here” text right on 2:27 am. 

The scene that unfolds in front of you once you come out of your apartment, almost leaves your jaw hanging mid air. 

Jungkook has arrived with a bike, dressed in complete black. If you drooled a little at the sight then you would never admit that. 

Once he sees you awkwardly walking towards him, he takes off his helmet and welcomes you with one of his infamous bunny smiles. 

Your heart does a little flip inside your chest. 

His big doe eyes shine amid the darkness as if those are made of some priceless stone. At this moment it’s really tough to believe that he is a pornstar, who fucks people on camera to earn a living. 

“Hey. you look beautiful.” he greets you with a compliment when you come close to him. 

“You look even more handsome today.” you return his compliment genuinely. And at that, the tip of his ears turn red. 

“Ah thanks.” he replies shyly as he hands you a helmet. And gestures to you to mount his fancy bike. 

You take the helmet, slip that on your head and hold him by his shoulders to climb on his bike. 

Once you have settled, he revves the engine. 

“Hold me tightly” he says briefly before setting the bike in motion. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold him just as he asked you to. 

The deserted road, the trees whooshing by, the buildings that look peaceful, everything feels so beautiful. 

Maybe it’s because of the hour or maybe it’s because you are with someone you like. 

The bike comes to a halt at a crossing and you slide up the windshield of your helmet, “where are we going?” 

He looks at you through the mirror, slides his own windshield up and gives you another sickening smile, but doesn’t say anything. 

5 more minutes later he parks the bike beside a huge lake. 

It looks like a secluded area. The lake is mostly hidden amid big trees and surrounded by fishing spots and some benches. 

Jungkook spreads his hand before you once you both are standing side by side. 

You take the cue and place your hand on his. He intertwines his fingers with yours and you start blushing. Thanks to the darkness, he wouldn’t be able to witness it. 

Once you are sitting on a bench, Jungkook starts, “I often come here to fish with my hyungs. This is my first time coming here with a woman.” 

When you look at him, you find him already staring at you, “Really? You look like the type to have a lot of girlfriends, you know?” 

“Is it because of my profession?” there is a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

So you press on his hand, which is still intertwined with yours and say, “no. not because of that. It’s just that you are generally very attractive and charming, Jungkook.” 

His face brightens up with a beautiful smile, “Too bad, I was about to say the same about you. But you snatched my words.” 

Your eyes widen at his compliment, “You find me attractive?” 

“Why? Why are you so surprised? Is it wrong to find someone attractive?” he giggles, staring deep into your eyes. 

“No. Th-that’s not what I meant. I mean, you know, you work with far more attractive women than me. So.. it’s kind of unlikely actually.” you fumble with your words. 

Jungkook chuckles at your explanation, “they are just colleagues, Y/N. Just like any other profession, we have a strict business relationship. And honestly, they are not even my type. You, on the other hand, fit perfectly into the category of women I would love to date.” 

Your eyes go even wider at his confession, “you.. You want to date me?” 

“If you let me. If you trust me despite the nature of my profession… I would love to make you mine.” Jungkook breathes slowly, his eyes drop down to your lips. 

Before you can voice your answer, your intrusive thoughts win and you reach up, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“I think I would love it too.” 

And then you find yourself being pulled by the back of your neck as Jungkook crashes his lips on yours. It’s passionate, it’s overwhelming, it’s so beautiful and you never felt anything close to this. 

He licks the seam of your lower lip asking you to grant him permission, you let him inside your mouth. 

His tongue probes into your mouth testing each corner, you moan into his mouth. His other hand wraps around your waist pulling you even closer. 

And then you feel one, two, three and then multiple drops of rain falling on you two. 

He detaches his lips from yours, “fuck. It’s raining.” 

“Let’s go back to my place.” you reply, trying to cover your heads with your hands. 

It’s been one of your bucket list wishes to ride a bike in the rain with the person you love and probably it’s going to come true today. 

You hold him tightly, pressing your chest on his back, not in a sexual, but in a loving manner. It starts raining heavily within a few minutes, and Jungkook quickens his speed to reach your destination as soon as possible. 

“Where are you going?” you place your question, seeing Jungkook putting on his helmet again after dropping in front of your apartment entrance. 

Even though the rain has turned into drizzle now, it still can be quite dangerous to drive a bike in this weather.  

“Home. Where else?” he adds a little sheepishly. 

“Jungkook, it’s still raining. I don’t think it’s any wiser to go home now, you’re drenched on top of that. Come inside. You can leave after the sunrise. If you want.. I mean.” you propose, he seems to think for a bit. 

“I don’t think I should go inside, Y/N.” Jungkook looks at the ground as if it’s more interesting than your face. 

“Why? What’s wrong?” you are truly confused now. 

“I might not be able to control myself…” his voice fades by the time he manages to end the sentence. 

“Did I say I want you to control?” you bite your lip, hoping that you don’t appear to be too desperate to him. 

His eyes go wider inside his bulky helmet. 

Jungkook pushes your naked body on the mattress. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you felt that day.” He groans while biting down on the skin of your neck. 

Your hands roam around the smooth skin of his back. Everytime you scratch his back, he moans a little. 

“So pretty, so delicate, so perfect for me.” Jungkook groans again. 

One of his hands reaches down, finding your clit within a moment. It’s as if he has studied the map of your body with earnest interest. 

Drawing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, he pulls out melodic moans out of your throat. 

“Jun-jungkook mmm..” you moan again. 

“Yes baby. Say my name again.” he urges you while entering your heat with his middle finger. His digit plunges inside you, making you see stars indoors. 

“Jungko- I’m close” you manage to voice somehow. And as soon as those words fly out of your mouth, he empties you. 

You look at him being dumbfounded. He smirks at you, knowing what exactly he has done. 

“I want you to cum on my cock. I am hard as hell, baby.” he confesses blatantly. 

Just when you are about to hold him, he flips you around. So, now you are sitting on his thighs.  

“I want you to ride me.” he adds a little breathlessly. And you almost choke on your own spit. 

“What? I-I don’t..” 

“I will guide you, Y/N.” he cuts you off. 

He helps you in taking off his slacks along with his underwear. Once he is naked, he holds you by your waist and lines your entrance along with his cock. 

“Are you ready?” he asks briefly. You nod in affirmation. And then he is sliding you down his length. 

At first his length is overwhelming but you adjust fast. 

“You should move now.” Jungkook’s voice is laced with lust, his eyes are hazy, making him look even more attractive than he already is. 

You honestly have no idea how to move. So you try to implement your visual experience. However, it’s tough once you start bouncing on his cock. Even though Jungkook is guiding you well, you are messy regardless. 

Your moves and Jungkook’s thrusts don’t match at all and the experience is nothing like that day. 

You really are a novice. 

Even though the friction is delicious for you, Jungkook’s expression tells that he is very underwhelmed. So, you start trying your best. With a few more bounces, you cum all over his cock, creaming it perfectly. 

As soon as you are done, Jungkook flips you around again. He slips out of you and starts playing himself. 

Even though you are in your post-orgasm haze, it’s embarrassing for you. You couldn’t help him finish and he had to take the charge himself. 

With a few more pumps, he cums all over your body. Starting from your face, to your stomach, everything gets creamed in his white hot seed. 

And it’s hot. He is hot. And you are pathetic. 

“I-I’m sorry. I know it was bad.” you manage to voice once Jungkook is done with himself. 

“You are not bad, baby. We just need more practice together.” and then he is sealing his lips with yours again. 

You certainly need more practice with him. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 1

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Koschei the Deathless Sorcerer was killed by the Spymaster of the Night Court. 

It was less dramatic than it sounded. At least Azriel thought so. 

And if Lucien hadn’t been a fucking idiot and put himself into a position to be kidnapped by the very same deathless sorcerer…then they wouldn’t even have been in that kind of situation. 

But he had been and so it ended with Azriel so magically exhausted that he collapsed the very same moment Truthteller stroke true once more. 

At least Koschei was slayn. 

And the only reason Azriel had gone to rescue the red-headed male in the first place was the fact that  Lucien was Elaine’s mate. Lucien was the male Elain loved. Azriel couldn’t let him die. 

Couldn’t let Elain feel the devastation of a mating bond broken by death…so his decision making had been quick. Either he would manage to get Lucien free…or he would die trying.  There wasn’t many things that he wouldn’t do for the female he loved. Even when he knew it shouldn’t be. 

Azriel had never been very good at knowing when enough was enough after all, wasn’t he?

No price was high enough to pay when it was about Elain’s happiness, as far as Azriel was concerned.  

He hadn't expected to wake up, and yet… there he was. Alive and whole.

*I hope it was worth it, Master,* the shadows sniped at him.

He blinked, taking in the dim light of the room, taking in the familiar surroundings. His room in the House of Wind.

“You are a fucking idiot, you know?” Cassian hissed at him from his place at his bedside and Azriel blinked at him.

"Lucien?" he brought out hoarsely.

"Not as much as a fucking scratch on him. Thanks to you," Cassian responded. "You on the other hand...Madja thought you were going to fucking die from pure magical exhaustion!"

Even Azriel he had...it would have been worth it. Lucien had made it out alive - and that was all that mattered in the end. Elain would be happy. That was all he cared about.

He didn't say that aloud though. 

He took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. "How long was I out?" he asked.

"Three days," Cassian growled. "Three. Days."

Azriel sat up slowly, wincing at the ache in his muscles. It felt like his entire body was one giant bruise, every inch of him pained and sore.

"Lay back down," Cassian snapped.

Azriel shot him a glare, but sank back onto the bed nonetheless. "I'm fine," he grumbled. "Just tired."

"Yeah, well, we'll let Madja be the judge of that," Cassian snapped. "And when you are feeling better, I am going to kill you for going off on your own!"

Azriel just gave him a weary look. "Better me than you," he said dryly. He closed his eyes, feeling a deep exhaustion settle over him. Cassian had Nesta to think about. Azriel didn't. Azriel just had himself.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Cassian demanded.

Azriel didn't have the energy to answer

He dosed off, feeling the shadows twine around him. They were muttering, words he could c quite understand, bitching under their breath but for once it was comforting.

He woke up, feeling groggy and disoriented. His eyes felt like sandpaper, and his limbs were heavy. He groggily blinked at the room, feeling like he was in a haze.

It took him a moment to realize he wasn't alone. Cassian was still there, as was Madja.

Azriel groaned, pushing himself up into a sitting position. His head was throbbing, and his vision was a little blurred. He rubbed his face, trying to clear the fog from his mind. "Hey," he said, his voice rough and gravelly.

Cassian and Madja both looked at him, their expressions relieved. "How are you feeling?" Madja asked him, moving closer to the bed and waving a hand in front of his face.

"Like I was hit by a wagon," Azriel admitted. His muscles felt tight and sore, his body heavy with fatigue. His wings felt like they were made of lead, and every movement took a huge effort.

"That's unsurprising considering you nearly magicked yourself to death," Madja said gruffly. "Your body had a tremendous amount of stress and strain put on it. You're lucky to be alive."

He gritted his teeth. "Yeah, well, I didn't have a lot of other options," he pointed out.

Madja just let out a huff and began prodding and poking at his body, running her hands over his wings and checking his pulse. Cassian watched anxiously from the side, his arms crossed over his chest.

Azriel bore her ministrations in silence, trying not to wince as she poked and prodded at him. He knew she was just trying to help, but it didn't make the ordeal any more pleasant.

After what felt like forever, she finally stepped back, nodding to herself. "You're lucky, shadowsinger," she said gruffly. "You're lucky you're so damn resilient," she said, and he couldn't tell if it was a compliment or just an observation.

He looked at her blearily. "I guess I can add that to my list of things to be proud of," he muttered sarcastically.

Cassian barked out a laugh, but Madja just rolled her eyes. The door opened at that moment. "How's he doing?" Rhys demanded.

Azriel wanted to let out a sigh at the sight of Rhys. He loved his brother, but he didn't have the energy for a lecture right now.

Madja turned to Rhys. "He's weak and he's stupid," she snapped. "But he's alive."

Rhys let out a sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. "Thank you, Madja," he said. "Would you...give us a moment?"

Madja nodded, patting Azriel's leg as she got up to leave. "Rest," she ordered. "And no strenuous activity for at least a week."

As soon as the door closed behind her, Rhys turned to Azriel. "What were you thinking?" he demanded, his eyes blazing.

"I was thinking that I was saving Lucien's life," Azriel replied evenly, meeting his brother's gaze. "I couldn't let him die, Rhys."

"Wouldn't that have made it easier for you?* Rhys demanded sharply mentally. *You are the one that fancies himself in love with Elain.*

Maybe it shouldn't hurt him as much as it did. He didn't fancy himself in love with her. He was in love with her. Had been in love with her and Rhys had been the one to order him away from her, which had given Lucien the opportunity to swoop in and Elain had...Elain had given in. Given in to that Siren Song of the Mating Bond and was very much in love with her mate now. 

It hurt to hear Rhys say it like that, like it was just some passing infatuation that he'd gotten over.

*Lucien is her mate,* he responded simply. He didn't say what he really thought. He didn't say that he would rather have Elain be happy and never talk with him again than to have her wilt like one of her flowers because her mate had died and the mating bond would be broken… He didn't say that he loved Elain enough, that her happiness was more important to him than anything else. He didn't say any of that.

*At least you are recognising that now,* Rhys said with a snort.  Azriel didn't flinch. Didn't react.

He hid away in that little corner of his brain he went to when everything became too much. Where he could just shut up all his feelings, all these pesky emotions, and just be...nothing. Nothing. That's the only thing he still had left.

He just shrugged, schooling his face into a careless expression. "I did what I had to do, Rhys," he repeated stubbornly. "Lucien is a good male. He didn't deserve to die."

"Elain wants to thank you," Rhys said suddenly.

Azriel's stomach twisted as Rhys mentioned Elain. He felt a pang of longing in his chest, a desperate ache to see her, to touch her, to hear her voice. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't subject himself to the torture of seeing her with her mate, seeing her happy in Lucien's arms.

So his answer was definite: "There is no need for that," he said simply.

Rhys gave him a sharp look. "Don't be an idiot," he said gruffly. "She's been worried sick about you."

But Azriel just shook his head, even as his heart thudded in his chest.

*You can keep it together for 5 minutes,* Rhys snapped into his mind.

"Rhys," Cassian said carefully. "If he doesn't want to, just let it..."

"He's being ridiculous," Rhys snapped, interrupting Cassian. "Elain is family.”

Azriel grit his teeth but didn't respond. He didn't have the energy for an argument right now. He just wanted to sleep.

*See her for 5 minute snad then you can sulk like a spoiled child until you feel better about yourself,* Rhys bargained drily.

Azriel hesitated. He knew he should see her, knew that it would make things easier for everyone if he did. But the thought of seeing her, seeing her happy with Lucien when he was so miserable, was like a knife to the gut.

"Does it even matter what I want?" he asked, his voice flat.

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, looking at him with exasperation. "Az, stop being so damned stubborn. Elain has been worried sick about you - the least you can do is let her see that you are alive."

Azriel didn't say anything. Didn't respond. He just stared at Rhys, feeling like every fiber of his being was being pulled apart. He wanted to see her. Wanted to see her more than anything. But he knew that once he saw her, he wouldn't be able to hold himself together. He would break. He would shatter into a thousand pieces.

"Just...come on, Az," Rhys said finally. "Let her see you. She needs to know you're alright."

Azriel knew he couldn't say no. Knew he couldn't hurt her like that. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Fine," he said softly. "But just for five minutes."

Five minutes. He could do five minutes. He had to. For her…

She was still as achingly beautiful as she always had been. These devasting brown eyes, the caramel curls...

Azriel's breath hitched at the sight of her, and he felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over him. Love, longing, sadness, and that bittersweet pang of being so close to something he could never have.

Behave, Rhys warned him sharply.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Trying to push back that wave of feelings that threatened to drown him. It was just five minutes, he reminded himself. Five minutes. He could do this.

The shadows swirled around him, welling up with intensity, shrouding much of his body in inky blackness and Elain flinched back from them.

She had never quite warmed up to them. Azriel was just thankful for that display, for keeping her away from him as she entered the room, Lucien on her heels.

"How...How are you feeling?" she asked him, her voice soft.

He could tell that she was worried, that she was concerned for him. It warmed something inside him, and he hated himself for it. 

"I'm fine," Azriel answered hoarsely.  "Just tired.

"I...thank you," Elain said softly, binting her lip. "If you hadn't...if you hadn't killed Koschei and freed Lucien...I...Thank you, Azriel."

Hearing her say his name again was like a punch to the gut. It was both a comfort and a torture, to be so close to her and yet so far away. He swallowed hard, biting back the words that threatened to spill out.

"You don't owe me any thanks," he said quietly. "I just did what had to be done."

"I do owe you my life," Lucien disagreed. "Thank you. Without your interference...I wouln't have survived, " he said flatly.

Azriel just shrugged, feeling a wave of bitterness wash over him. He had saved Lucien, had risked his life to save the male who was mated to the female he loved. It was a strange sort of irony.

"It's fine," he said roughly. "I'm just glad I got there in time."

He couldn't look at her. Couldn't look at Lucien. It hurt too much. So he stared at the floor, willing the shadows to consume him entirely.

"We are all just happy you are feeling alright," Elain said softly. "I...I was worried about you. Everyone was."

Azriel forced himself to look up at her, his heart clenching at the sincerity in her eyes. She really had been worried about him. "I'm alright," he promised her, his voice rough. "Really. I just need some rest."

Elain hesitated, taking a step forward. He could hear her heartbeat, could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. It was torture to be so close to her and yet so far away. It was torture to know that she was so close and yet so unattainable. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to hold her, but he knew he couldn't. He held onto that last shred of reason he had.

She tugged a piece of hair behind one delicately arched ear...and that was the moment he saw the gold and pearl ring that decorated her ring finger.

"Congratulations." He wasn't sure how he even brought out these words...how he managed to make them sound...appropriately happy for her.

It took a herculean effort to say those words, to offer a smile that barely reached his eyes. Every fibre of his being was screaming in protest, yelling that he should have been the one giving her that ring, that he should have been the one by her side. But he pushed back those feelings, burying them deep down inside of himself. He couldn't let her see how he truly felt. He couldn't let her know how much it was tearing him apart to stand there and look at her. Look at her with her mate, with the male she loved, the one she had chosen. 

"Congratulation," he repeated, his voice a little rougher than before.

"It wouldn't have been possible without you," Elain said, with a smile.

Azriel just nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. He couldn't find the words to respond, couldn't find the words to express the tangle of emotions swirling inside of him. He just sat there, feeling more alone and isolated than he had in a long time.

Elain took another step in his direction, seemingly ready to reach out, but Cassian intercepted her. placing a gentle hand on Elain's shoulder. "He needs his rest," he said softly. "Let's leave him be for now."

Azriel felt a pang of gratitude towards Cassian. Elain hesitated, looking torn.

"I wish you every happiness," Azriel brought out his voice hoarsely. Not even a lie.  It was the frank truth in these words and Elain gave him a smile, before Lucien's hand came to rest at her lower back, guiding her out of the room.

Thank the cauldron. They were gone. 

He slumped back into the pillow.  He was falling apart. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically. He just wanted to be left alone, to lick his wounds in peace.

"Az..." Cassian said carefully, but he cut him off.

“I am tired,” Azriel said, his voice hoarse. “I need to sleep.”

The shadows swirled around him tighter. 

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a look, before Cassian nodded, "Alright," he said. "Get some rest."

He laid down properly, closing his eyes, calling the shadows to him wordlessly. They swamred around him immediately. Damn Near suffocating him.  It was the only thing that kept him from starting to sob.

The shadows embraced him, wrapping him in their inky blackness, shielding him from the outside world. They were his only comfort, just like they had been for centuries. 

*We are there, Master.* They promised him softly. *It will be fine, Master.*

He didn’t believe a fucking word they said. 

*We are not willing to lose you, Master. We aren’t interested in finding a new master,* they told him seriously. He choked out a laugh that turned into a sob. 

*Sleep, Master. We'll keep watch,* they promised him.

And they did. 

Bone deep exhaustion meant that at least his sleep was dreamless. At least that was given to him. It was a small mercy. 

When he woke up again, Nesta was there, sitting in an armchair reading.

Azriel blinked, feeling disoriented and groggy. He sat up slowly, wincing as his wounds protested the movement. Nesta looked up from her book, her expression neutral.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him quietly.

"Fine," he answered, his voice hoarse. He was fine. He would be fine. 

"Thank you," Nesta said suddenly.

Azriel looked up at her, surprised. He wasn't even sure what she was thanking him for.

"For what?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep.

“You nearly got yourself killed to save my sister’s mate. I think Thank you is the least I owe you," Nesta said drily.

She mustered him with grey eyes and he knew that she knew. Knew that she knew or at the very least could guess about his feelings for Elain and probably be right. She wouldn't say anything, but she knew.

He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. It was over with. Done. 

Lucien and Elain could be happy and Azriel…Azriel would hide away somewhere. 

"You don't owe me anything," he waved Nesta off weakly, but she didn’t seem to want to take the hint, sticking out her chin. 

"Yes, I do," Nesta disagreed. "You are the reason why my little sister is happy right now," she told him fiercely. He swallowed down the unkind words at the tip of her tongue...didn't say anything. Didn't.... He didn’t want to think about this. He didn’t…

"Is there anything I can do?" Nesta asked him, her voice soft. "Anything at all, Az?" H knew that he could ask for anything and Nesta would do her level best to give it to him. She was stubborn like that. He had half a mind to ask her to use her silver flames to put him on fire and put him out of his misery. 

He didn’t. 

Even that wouldn’t fix it. 

There was nothing. There was absolutely nothing to make it any better. There was nothing that could...that could fix the ache in his chest.

"Porridge," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Porridge?" Nesta repeated incrediously.

"Porridge with honey. I am hungry," he repeated, meeting her gaze. Food. Food. More Sleep. More Work. He could fill his waking hours with useless things and everybody would be happy. 

Nesta just looked at him for a moment, then inclined her head.

"Porridge with honey. Alright," she agreed. Just a moment later a massive bowl of Porridge with honey drizzled on top, appeared on his bedside table, so hot it was steaming. Seemed like the house was in a mood to spoil him. He even got a whiff of cinnamon from it.

"Thank you," he thanked Nesta's creature aloud as the shadows fetched the bowl and held it up for him to eat a spoonful. "What are you reading?" he asked Nesta, changing the topic. 

She was polite enough not to say anything about it. 

Nesta held up her book. “The newest Sellyn Drake novel,” she replied.

"Is it any good?" he inquired, stirring his porridge gently.

“It’s brilliant," Nesta gushed, her eyes devoured the pages as soon as she looked down to continue reading.

"You seem to really like it," he pointed out, taking another bite of his porridge. "It is brilliant," Nesta agreed readily. “The plot is so intricate and twists and turns and the characters are so deep and complex and their emotions are so real and the romance is so...” she trailed off, blushing slightly.

He opened his mouth to respond...but then he heard her.

Mor. Of course.

He couldn’t deal with Mor. Not right now. But there she was, Rhys hot on her heels.

Nesta heard her too, rolling her eyes, curling back up on her chair, making it very clear that while she was going nowhere, she was letting him deal with it on her own. 

And he didn’t want to deal with Mor. 

But there she was. 

Mor came strolling into the room, her usual confident smile firmly in place. Rhys just looked at Azriel, his expression unreadable.

He didn't say it.  But Azriel knew. Behave. That’s all Rhys was telling him these days.  Either it was about Elain and Lucien...or about Mor and Emerie. Like Azriel would ever do anything to put that in jeopardy. Like Azriel was a jealous child that wouldn't allow Mor to be happy on her own terms. Like...

Azriel ignored the sharp pang of hurt that shot through him at Rhys's look.

Still it was better than looking at Mor…he couldn’t bear to look at Mor. 

 Didn't want to look at Mor, in her usual bright red, skin baring dress, that clung to all her curves...didn't want to look at the female he had spent centuries in love with even when he had known that she was never going to return his affections...it hadn't helped him. He had still been in love with her.

And he had still hoped...hoped against all hope that maybe...maybe there would be a time where she would return his affection...that maybe there would be a time where...

But there wouldn't. He knew. He knew. And he had still been in love with her.

Would have given damn near anything for her attention, for that broad smile on her face to be directed in his direction...would have given anything for her to bound over to his bedside and envelope him in her arms...to feel her soft skin against his as she hugged him fiercely, cinnamon and citrus enveloping him.

Now...now it felt like somebody was pouring salt into a gaping wound. Now it felt as painful as the fire and oil on his hands had. She was flaying him alive and she wasn’t even aware that she was hurting him. 

"How are you feeling, Az?" Mor's voice was gentle, concerned. He knew it was genuine, knew that Mor really cared about him. But he couldn't bring himself to look at her. Not when his heart was bleeding out just from the sound of her voice.

"Fine," he answered, his voice flat. "Nothing that sleep won't fix," he promised her, even as her hands fluttered around him as she sat down on his bedside...

She was so close. He could reach out and touch her, could feel the soft fabric of her dress against his fingertips. He clenched his fists, willing himself to keep his hands to himself.

But he couldn't help it. He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. He could see the concern there, the worry. He felt a pang of guilt for putting that look on her face. He didn't want to cause her any distress. 

"I'm just glad you are feeling better," Mor sighed, gently patting his arm. "You had us all worried for a moment there," she admitted softly.

Even just the touch of her hand felt like she was branding him. He wanted to flinch away and forced himself no to.

It was like a bittersweet poison, the way she touched him. It was so familiar, so comforting. But it was also so painful, a reminder of what he could never have.

He looked away, staring down at his hands. They were shaking, just a little. He clasped them together, the monstrous scars that covered them, standing out starkly.

The shadows trembled around him, pulling nearer, growing darker and Mor watched them with a raised eyebrow. "Worried, are they?" she teased him slightly.

*You are fine, Master,* the shadows promised him. *No more fire,* they promised him fiercely. But it didn’t help. He didn’t trust himself to speak without his voice cracking.

Mor seemed to sense his discomfort and stood up, her hand slipping from his arm. "Just rest and get better soon, alright?" she said softly, taking a step back.

"Thank you," he thanked her, his voice hoarse.

He risked a glance up at her, just a quick look. Her face was soft, her eyes filled with warmth. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest and he had to look away again. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

"We should let him rest, Mor," Rhys said, giving Azriel another look.

"Right, right," Mor agreed, already turning towards the door. "Rest up, Az," she said again, giving him one last smile as she disappeared out the door.

Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as she left the room. 

Gone. Thank the cauldron. He couldn't take much more of her presence, not right now. 

He didn't even want to know why Rhys had accompanied her. Probably because he was worried that Azriel wasn't going to behave.

What was he supposed to do instead? Tell Mor about how much she had hurt him over the centuries? How she had given him jut enough scraps of her affection to make him yearn for more but never telling him that she didn’t love him like that? 

He wasn’t going to do that. 

He didn't want to look at Rhys right now, didn't want to face the scrutiny of his high lord's gaze. He just wanted to be left alone.

He knew that Rhys was watching him, that the male wanted to say something. But Azriel didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear the lecture, the warning. He just wanted to be left alone.

The room fell silent, except for the sound of his own breathing. He closed his eyes and sank deeper into the mattress. Maybe if he just pretended to sleep, Rhys would leave him alone.

"He's tired. You should let him sleep," Nesta said flatly.

Leave it to Nesta to tell Rhys to stuff it, he reflected weakly. He heard Rhys sigh, but he kept his eyes closed. And after a moment, he heard the sound of footsteps leaving the room.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. 

Alone. Safe. Mostly at least. 

Life went on. It always did.

The exhaustion went away after a few days... he caught up on Paperwork in the meantime. He sent the shadows off to find him one information or other and they didn't even bitch to him that badly, which told him that even they felt bad for him.

Behave. That’s all Rhys was telling him these days.

So he did. He behaved.

He did his job. He did everything Rhys could possibly want from his spymaster. 

He didn’t argue. He didn’t fight. He did his job and he trained and he did everyhting that was expected off him. 

And then he hadn’t tortured himself enough… and he went to visit Rosehall.

Where his mother lived.

Under the Mountains had it’s own kind consequences. This was one of them: His mother didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. 

50 years without him...and his mother had made herself a new family. A family that he wasn’t welcome in. A family that she wanted him nowhere near. He couldn’t fault her for it. Not at all.

She had been half a child when she had had him and it hadn’t been by choice.

So who could blame her for making a new family with people that weren’t as fucked up in the head as he was? Not Azriel.

Azriel didn’t blame her at all. Azriel left her in peace. He didn't reach out. He made sure that she was fine, that she had enough money to never worry about it and otherwise dissappeared from her life. 

His shadows kept an eye on her…He shored up the wards around Rosehall and caught a glimpse of her. And then he left it at that. She looked happy. That’s all he cared about.

Happy and safe and…she didn’t need him. She didn’t want him around her either, and he could understand that too.

And still, it hurt. It hurt so fucking much. 

But 

*You know the rules,* he told the shadows quietly. *You don’t need to report to me about her anymore. Keep an eye on her and only tell me if she is in danger or hurt.*

*Yes, Master,* they agreed readily. 

So he went back to the House of Wind. Back to Velaris…Back to work. 

He went back to his routine, back to his duties, back to his mask of indifference. He hid the pain behind his usual stoic facade, only letting his shadows know how much it hurt. He threw himself into his work, using it as a way to distract himself from his own loneliness.

And when he wasn't working, he would spend hours and hours in the training ring in the House of Wind, working himself to exhaustion. Anything to try and drown out the ache in his heart.

For gods sake, he even attended Elain and Lucien’s mating ceremony. And gifted them an appropriate gift. He behaved just like Rhys wanted him too.

He even summoned up a smile for them on their special day, hiding his own pain behind a mask of false happiness. He congratulated them both, feeling a pang in his chest at the sight of Elain's beaming face. But he didn’t let it show. He behaved. Like Rhys wanted him too.

He stayed for the whole thing. Stayed for the dancing, stayed for the feast. Stayed until he could physically take it no more. And then he had retreated to that training ring again, beating his pain and loneliness out on whatever dummy he could find.

He was so tired. Tired of hiding, tired of pretending. Tired of pretending like nothing was wrong. He wanted nothing more than to just scream and rage and shout and cry. But he didn’t. He held it all in. Bottled it up like he was so good at doing.

He was in the bathtub, sluicing off the sweat he was drenched in…shaking off his wings just because he could move them however he wanted to

*You should go out, Master,* the shadows suggested seriously. *Go out and find a female.*

He just snorted. *Not interested,* he sniped back harshly. *I am not getting my heart broken again.*

Everybody could just fuck off and leave him alone. Even when he was aching…aching for somebody in his life that loved him. For whom he could be everything. Somebody he could dote on. Somebody that wanted his attention, that wanted his love…that would like his ruined hands on their body and wasn’t paid to simply acccept it. 

*You could let us pick her!* the shadows suggested brightly.

His eyes snapped back open and he glared at the shadows swirling around the room. *Absolutely not,* he said firmly. *I mean it, you stay out of it.*

*We can’t do a worse job than you do,* they sniped at him. *Neither The Seer nor The Morrigan would have suited you at all.*

*Excuse me?!* 

*You heard us, Master,* the shadows said, sounding far too smug for their own good. *And you know it.*

Azriel just glared at them, feeling his temper start to rise. *I know I wasn’t good enough for them,* he snapped. *You don’t need to tell me that.*

*You think you weren’t good enough for them?!* The shadows asked him incredulously.

*They deserve better. So much better than me,* he said quietly. "I'm not good enough for either of them. Never was.*

What was he, after all? An Illyrian bastard? A monster? Either? Both? 

He had never said it out loud before, not even to himself. But in that moment, lying in the water, his heart so raw and exposed, he couldn't help but speak the truth that he had always known but never admitted to himself. "I'm not good enough for either of them," he repeated softly, the weight of his words settling heavily on his chest.

He knew it was true. Mor was a golden ray of light, the embodiment of beauty and grace. Elain was sweet and gentle and kind, a pure soul in a sea of darkness. 

And what was he? Damaged. Broken. Scarred. Inside and out.

He had done unspeakable things, things that would haunt his nightmares for centuries to come. He was nothing compared to them. He was darkness, they were light. And they deserved better than him, far better than him.

Even if he had loved Mor with every fiber of his being, even if he had yearned for her with every beat of his heart, even if he had dreamed of her every night, it didn't matter. It had never mattered. Because he wasn't good enough for her. And he never would be.

He wasn’t good enough for Elain. The mother hadn’t thought it to be prudent to make them mates. Both of his brother had been gifted with a mating bond, but not him. That should tell him everything he needed to know abotu the state of his own soul. 

So why…why should he even try anymore. 

Why shouldn’t he just stew in his own misery, alone and heartbroken and a monster and expect everybody to just leave him alone? There was no point of putting himself out there again. There was nothing out there for him. Nothing but more pain.​​

So he closed his eyes again, sinking lower into the water, letting the warmth soothe his aching muscles. He let out a long sigh, his mind already racing with thoughts of his next missions, his next assignments. Because that was all that really mattered now. His job. His duties. His responsibilities. That was all he had left.

Behave. That’s all he was good for. 

*Alright, that’s fucking enough,* the shadows snapped. *You are not letting The High Lord talk to you like that any longer, Master.*

Azriel was so surprised by their fucking vehemence that he could just stare at them. 

*The Morrigan used you for centuries to make herself feel better about herself,* the shadows snapped. *She used the feelings you had for her and that she was very much aware of to strangle you and keep you in line.*

Azriel swallowed. He knew they were right. He knew that Mor had used his feelings for her for a long time. She had led him on, given him false hope, only to yank it away time and time again. It had been a painful cycle, one that had left him feeling used and broken and worthless.

*She could have stopped at any time but she never did,* the shadows hissed. *But instead she hurt you on purpose. Instead of turning you down, she slept with other males to show you that you would never have her!*

Azriel felt bile rise in the back of his throat. Mor had flaunted her other lovers in front of him, making it clear that he would never be enough for her. She had used his devotion to her as a weapon against him, wielding it whenever it suited her needs. And he had let her. He had been foolish, desperate enough to cling onto any scrap of affection she might throw his way.

*And The Seer?! Granted she has never done that, but her feelings for you weren’t particular deep when she replaced you on her affections with The Fox as soon as you weren’t available anymore! If she had cared, truly cared, she would have thought about what happened during Winter Solstice,* the shadows snapped.

*And The High Lord? Don’t even let us get started on him,* the shadows snapped. *You haven’t even done anything since that Winter Solstice, and he keeps behaving like some kind of despotic Overlord, worried that his orders won’t be followed. If you wanted to punch him in the face, you probably had every right to it,* they mumbled.

Azriel couldn’t help but snort. 

*You deserve better, Master,* The shadows told him fiercely. *You deserve somebody that loves you.* 

. He wanted to believe the shadows. He wanted to believe that he was good enough, that he deserved more. But the scars on his body and the memories in his mind told him otherwise. He had done terrible things, things that he could never undo. How could someone like that be good enough for anyone?

*Alright,* he finally agreed weakly. *Find me a house,* he told the shadows, as he closed his eyes.

*A house? What kind of house?* the shadows gave back, sounding surprised.

*A house,* he repeated. *A home. Somewhere in Velaris. Find me a home.* Something that could just be his.

A home. The idea sent a flutter through his stomach. He had never…never truly had a home. Had something that could just be his and nobody else’s. Just…a place that was his, where he could be whoever he wanted, where he was accepted and loved...it was appealing. Maybe even more than just appealing.

He closed his eyes, picturing it in his mind. A cozy little house, just large enough for himself. Warm and cozy and filled with light.

*That’s what a male needs to take a wife after all, right?* He asked, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. Was that what he should want? What he was supposed to want? He had never really thought about getting married before. But now, at the mention of it, he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. A wife...a family...love and companionship. It all sounded so…so nice.

*You want to get married, Master?* the shadows asked curioulsy. *To whom?*

*You pick,* he told the shadows. They swarmed out in pure excitment. Azriel couldn’t even remmeebr the last time they had been so excited. 

He couldn't help but chuckle at their reaction. Maybe they would do a better job than him. At least they could probably sieve out females that were in a romantic relationship or preferred females themselves. 

*Find me somebody that I could make happy. Somebody that….Somebody that could want me.* Some long-suffering female for whom Azriel could maybe try to be enough. Somebody that would love him.

*What should she look like?* they asked seriously.

*I don’t care. Find me somebody that loves me and she’ll be the most beautiful female to me anyway.*